Sorry this update was a little late. My family and I are on vacation this week, so rest and relaxation came first, lol. Hope you enjoy the chapter!

Chapter Three:

The metal door screeched on its hinges as Emma made her way into the warehouse after entering the code Killian had sent her in his text. She'd been instructed to meet Will and a few others at the docks that afternoon. Apparently some sort of shipment was coming in, and he thought seeing the inner workings of their import/export operation might help her gain some insight, considering it had been mismanaged cargo here at the docks that had first tipped him off to a potential problem within his ranks.

She hadn't spoken to Killian since the night he'd driven her home, only communicating with him through text in an effort to keep things a little less personal between them. With each cold and detached reply he gave through minimal characters, she had to remind herself that this was best, for both of them. Regardless of the way her thoughts were constantly consumed by him, or the way her body responded to such stimuli, Emma couldn't afford to forget her place in all this.

She was on a razor's edge with the Jones family, with the threat of death having been issued from Killian's own lips on more than one occasion. Although, she felt certain he would never make good on such a threat - she had no intentions of double-crossing him, thereby giving him no reason to - could she really risk being wrong about him? She'd been wrong in such a situation before. Besides, it wasn't just him she had to concern herself with. Despite what her gut told her about Killian, she'd be a fool to fall into bed with a man whose family may yet decide it in their best interest to get rid of her.

Especially if they ever found out about David.

Emma batted that thought away. With luck, she'd track down this rat and collect her pay before any of them looked deeper into those missing years she knew had to exist in her file. She had to keep her head on straight and focus on the case, which meant no more indulgences with the all-too-tempting mobster. She would keep things strictly business as she'd insisted, starting with today's cargo assignment.

"Mornin', luv," Will called out, waving her over. "No hard feelings about the other night?"

A dry smirk pulled at her lips. "I suppose, seeing as we all play for the same team now, a truce might be in order."

"Me delicates will be happy to hear that."

Emma rolled her eyes and took in the other players milling about. Besides Scarlet, there was also the man who'd been with him and Killian the night Emma had been… recruited, as well as an additional young man; a tall, lanky fellow she hadn't seen yet.

"Right," Will said in an authoritative tone Emma never would have expected of him. "Allow me to introduce you to a couple of the lads. This here is Felix," Will gestured to the lanky young man who gave her a curt nod and a smothered sneer, "and this here is Rufio. You might remember him from the other night."

Crossing her arms over her chest, Emma gave the man a withering look to let him know she certainly remembered his comment about keeping her occupied in the backseat. Rufio shuffled forward nervously and offered her an apologetic smile.

"I didn't mean nothin' the other night," he whispered at her, cautiously glancing at the others over his shoulder to see if they were listening in. "That was my first time to be invited along by one of the bosses, and I thought…"

His discomfort was palatable, and though he had clearly led a hard life, aging him a bit around the eyes, Emma could see he was actually more a contemporary to Felix than Will or Killian. If that had been the first time he'd been tasked to join one of the Jones men, then he'd most likely been eager to impress and thought such a comment would achieve a positive result. He'd probably been as surprised as she had been by Killian's response, and was now licking his wounded pride after slipping back down several rungs of the hierarchical ladder.

"Whatever," Emma waved him off, knowing his non-apology was as close to one as she was likely to get since he needed to save face. "Let's just get to whatever it is we're meant to do here." Moving closer to the crates Will and Felix were opening, Emma asked, "What are we doing, anyway?"

"The Storybrooke docks are our territory," Will explained. "Some of those we do business with pay us to use them for their own enterprises. The bosses have strict rules about what they'll allow to be smuggled through here, though, so we check the cargo to make sure no funny business is going on. Then we take a portion of the goods for ourselves as added compensation."

"What sort of things don't they allow?" Emma inquired, not sure if she wanted to have a peek inside the freshly-opened crate.

"You ask a lot of questions, don't you?" Felix commented snidely.

"I'm just trying to learn the ropes. That's what Killian sent me down here for."

"You mean, Mr. Jones," Felix snapped. "Show some respect."

"Alright. Everyone relax," Will interjected. "Felix, you and Rufio finish up here while I take Emma on a tour."

Reluctantly, Emma let Will lead her away from the crates. "Taking a tour isn't a euphemism for something else, is it?"

Will's laugh echoed around them, putting her a little at ease. "No. But it is an excuse to introduce you to someone the boss wanted me to have you meet while you're here."

He opened a door that led to a hallway of offices at the center of the building. Tucked away inside one of the rooms was a portly man in a red knit cap, who Emma recognized from the files Killian had given her.

"Mr. Smee," Will announced. "I'd like to introduce you to Emma Swan."

The pronouncement startled Smee for a moment, but then a warm smile broke over his face as he rushed forward to shake Emma's hand. "Of course! Miss Swan. It is a pleasure to meet you in person!"

"In person? You two already know each other?"

"Only over the phone," Emma told Will, extricating her hand from the overly enthusiastic man. "I was looking for someone, and the case led me to Mr. Smee." Turning her attention back to the stout fellow, Emma said, "Thanks for the intel, by the way."

"So, you caught him then?"

"No," she lamented. "Owen Flynn is still out there, somewhere."

"Flynn?" Will mused. "Why do I know that name?"

"Because he used to do business at The Brig," Smee told him, snapping Emma's attention back to him.

"You never told me that!"

Smee's chagrined expression contrasted with his unapologetic explanation, "Sorry, lass. But I have my loyalties, and never divulge anything that might come back to the Captain, or any of his businesses."

"The Captain?"

"That's what some of our associates call the younger Mr. Jones," Will supplied. "On account he got his start runnin' the shippin' side o' the business."

"However," Smee leaned in conspiratorially, "I can tell you, the reason you likely didn't find Owen Flynn, is because he is now using an alias. Greg Mendell."

Emma cocked her head to one side and narrowed her eyes at the little man. "And you can tell me this now, because…?"

"Word is, he snitched," Smee informed her. "Rolled on a business partner to the cops in order to evade a charge for fencing stolen goods. That's why he's got that bounty on his head. No one, especially the Jones family, is going to do business with him, nor is he allowed back at The Brig."

"And after I told Killian that you and I had interacted before, he asked you what it was about and gave you the green light to tell me everything you know about Flynn. Am I right?"

Smee shrugged. "Something like that."

A scoff left Emma's lips, and she shook her head. Before she could reply further to Smee's confirmation, another man came strolling into the offices.

"Afternoon, all," the man greeted, jovially. His eyes landed on Emma, and he uncannily deduced, "You must be Miss Swan."

"How did you-"

"Your bug's outside," the man said, thumbing over his shoulder towards the front of the warehouse.

"Billy here owns a towing company we work with," Will explained. "He's the one who removed your bug from the alleyway and fixed the window the other night before dropping it off at the marina."

"Were you responsible for removing it from The Brig the other night on Liam Jones' order, too?" she groused at the man.

"Guilty," Billy said, not appearing the least bit.

"Then, perhaps you'd like to account for the burner cell, about six dollars in change, and a bodice-ripper romance novel I had stashed away in my glove compartment that all went missing."

Billy held his hands up, conveying a sense of innocence. "Hey. I like a good bodice ripper novel as well as the next guy, but I don't know anything about your missing property."

"The boss will wanna know about it," Will said to Billy, who solemnly nodded his head.

"Yeah, I'll let him know."

"Don't trouble yourself," Emma waved off. "I needed to replace that burner anyway, and the book was garbage even by trashy romance standards."

The men shared a look between them, and Emma knew her words would go unheeded. Whatever code it was that mandated they keep Killian informed about shenanigans happening within the ranks, it would be upheld no matter how petty the grievance felt to Emma.

Once more, the office door swung open, and Rufio and Felix filed in.

"All done," Rufio said, his easy going smile a vast contrast to the scowl affixed to Felix's features. "Felix and I are off to The Brig. See you guys there?"

"Yeah. See you there in a bit," Will said, excusing them from their duty for the day. "You wanna come along, luv?" he asked Emma. "We usually gather at The Brig for a pint after a job. You're one of us now, and welcome to join."

"Thanks, but I've got another job to see to tonight," she told him, turning back to Smee and opening the notes app on her phone. "How is Flynn spelling his new name?"

~/~

The burn of alcohol against the back of Killian's throat was a welcomed balm, fortifying him for the evening to come. Setting the heavy glass down on the bar, he poured himself another generous portion then swirled the contents around the tumbler while he surveyed the empty pub.

Well, not entirely empty. Although closed to patrons, so the Jones men could discuss business in relative privacy, a few of their men were on site seeing to their own matters. A number of guards were also stationed around the building, ensuring no one other than those within the inner circle were permitted entry. Which was why the sound of the front door opening, when the only person they were waiting on was his father, and he tended to use the back entrance, grabbed Killian's attention. To say he was stunned to see Emma step over the threshold, was an understatement.

"Swan?" Placing his drink back on the bar, he sauntered around it and approached her. Stopping just short of her personal space, he thrust his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Actually, um…" Her head swiveled as her eyes, obscured by a pair of large sunglasses she hadn't removed yet, scanned the pub. "I was summoned here by your brother."

"Liam?"

"Do you have another brother I don't know about?" she quipped with a sassy tilt of her head.

Replying with an amused huff, he raised his brows, conceding to her point.

"I take it your surprise at my presence means you have no idea why I've been called here."

"Afraid not," he told her before calling out to one of his men. "Rufio. Go inform my brother that Swan has arrived to see him."

The young man jumped up and rushed off to do his captain's bidding. The others who remained, knowing their boss well enough to sense his demand for privacy by simply gauging his countenance, made themselves scarce, leaving them alone as they waited for the second Jones brother to make an appearance.

"Can I offer you a drink?" Killian asked, making his way to the bar.

"Not tonight," Emma declined. Her tone was courteous, but Killian could hear the hint of trepidation beneath. Whether it was from being in his presence again, the first time since their shared moment, or the uncertainty of not knowing what Liam wanted from her, he couldn't really say. It hadn't escaped his notice, however, that she hadn't made it any further past the door than when she'd first entered, nor had she removed her coat or sunglasses; both acting as a type of protective armour.

Killian didn't much care for the idea that she felt the need to guard herself like that around him, so he attempted to diffuse the situation with a bit of flirtation.

"Afraid you'll find me even more irresistible after a few libations, love?"

Though her eyes remained covered, he could detect her eye roll all the same, his victory evident in the twitch at the corner of her lips as she tried to suppress a smile.

"No, actually," she countered, finally making her way towards the bar. Towards him. "I have a job to get back to after I leave, and I need all my faculties in working order."

"Anything I should know about?" he inquired over the rim of his glass. Something in the way she shook her head felt off to him, but his brother's impeccable timing meant he couldn't press her further.

"So long as it isn't another take down at our establishment, and doesn't impede your ability to be here Friday night, then I don't much care what you do in that little side job of yours," Liam announced, draping a garment bag over the bar.

"What's this?" Emma asked, eyeing the bag. "And what's Friday night?"

"Our weekly poker game," Liam told her with a tone of impatience. "One of our regular dealers is unable to be there. You're going to fill in for her. This," he said, indicating the bag Swan was now unzipping, "is your uniform."

Killian took another sip of his drink, awaiting the indignant response he knew would be forthcoming from the fiery blonde.

She did not disappoint.

"You have got to be kidding me!" she exasperated. "You call this a uniform? Where the hell is the rest of it?"

"Come now, Swan," Killian interjected with a heavy measure of cheek. "It's not so bad. I've seen you dress in far less in the line of duty, after all."

"The line of duty?" Plucking the skimpy bustier from inside the garment bag, she held it out before her and challenged, "I'm not setting a honey trap in this, I'm eye candy for your clientele. How is that, in any way, my duty?"

"Because you work for us now," Liam reminded her with a sharp, menacing edge to his tone. "You'll be here Friday night promptly at 9, dressed accordingly, and ready to serve the interests of this family in whatever role we see fit to assign to you. Do I make myself clear?"

"Liam, relax," Killian sighed.

"She needs to understand her place in all this, little brother."

"She does. I assure you," Killian clipped back. "And it's younger brother."

Liam continued to give Swan a hard stare, waiting for her acknowledgement that she would comply with his demands. Killian bristled at his brother's behavior, and his lack of faith that Killian could manage their newest asset. If he'd wished for Swan to fill in as one of the dealers, then he should have had Killian issue the order. They'd all agreed she was his to oversee, after all.

"Fine," Emma grit out, shoving the uniform back into the bag.

Killian's irritation at his brother began to slowly ebb away when he noted the scrapes along the back of Swan's hand. Barely cognizant of his brother's reminder to come upstairs as soon as their father arrived, and his subsequent exit, Killian continued to catalogue a few other minor injuries he could now make out on her person. When his assessment led him back to Swan's face, the reason for her persistently adorned sunglasses suddenly became clear.

Tossing a section of her hair over her shoulder, she snatched up the garment bag. "I guess I'll be seeing you Friday," she grumbled.

"Before you go," he said in a hard tone, already attempting to rein in control over his temper. "Take off the sunglasses, Swan."

"What? Why?"

"Because I think you're hiding something from me, and I want to know what it is."

"I'm not hiding any-"

"No secrets, Swan," Killian murmured, keeping his voice low. "If our partnership is to work, then there can't be any secrets between us. Now," he set his jaw and fixed her with a determined look, "are you going to remove the sunglasses, or shall I?"

Emma's shoulders sagged in relenting defeat as she draped the garment bag once more over the bar. Hesitantly, she reached up and took off the sunglasses, revealing a swollen black eye. She flinched slightly when he stepped forward, taking her face in his hands as he examined the damage done. Wings of fury unfurled within his gut, and rage threatened to boil over in his veins. Each wince that marred her features from the gentle pressure he was applying with his fingertips had him assembling an arsenal of retribution in his mind.

"Who did this?" he demanded softly. "I want a name."

She jerked her head out of his grasp and backed away. "It's fine," she told him. "I've got it handled. I don't need you interfere—"

"Woah!" Scarlet exclaimed, making his way into the pub from the back hallway. "What happened to you, Dirty Harry?"

Killian and Emma both gave Will a perplexed look, making the man shrug. "The guys and I thought it would be a good idea to come up with a pseudonym for her. You know, since she doesn't want the cops tipped off about her connection with the family."

"Well, come up with something else," Emma sniped before turning her attention back on Killian. "And seriously, I can handle this myself."

Killian opened his mouth to stop her leaving when Will inquired, "Oi? Was it that bloke you and Smee were talking about yesterday at the docks who done that to your eye?"

"What bloke?" Killian demanded.

"No one."

"Owen Flynn," answered Will over the top of Emma's protestations. "He's a fence that used to do some business here at The Brig. Cuffs here was after him a few weeks ago, but didn't know he'd changed his name after turning snitch. Smee set her back on the guy's track."

"Was it him, Swan?" Killian persisted. "Did this Flynn character do this to you?"

"I said, I'll handle it," she stated again. "The guy may have gotten the better of me last night, but I won't let him get away so easy next time."

"Next time? As in tonight?" Killian questioned. "Is he the job you were referring to before?"

"You know what?" Emma said, throwing her hands up. "I'm not doing this with you. We agreed that I would keep running down skips and bounties to keep up appearances with the SBP, and that's what I'm going to do. Alone. Like I always have." Grabbing the garment bag from where she'd sat it down moments before, Emma placed the sunglasses back over her eyes and said, "This is nothing, believe me. I've had a lot worse, and I know how to take care of myself. I don't need you getting involved. It's my business."

Killian stood seething, watching her disappear through the front door. The muscle in his jaw flickered madly, and his hands balled into fists.

"Orders, boss?" Will asked knowingly.

From between clenched teeth, Killian said, "I want Owen Flynn in the basement of The Brig by week's end. Spread the word."

"Aye aye, Captain."