Author's Note: Thank you everyone for reviewing and reading! The story is coming to its head and I hope you enjoy it.

"Hey, kid." Emma greeted Henry who rode by her on his bike, too much in a panicked hurry to say hello back to her. She had been waiting for him to show up at his castle, not surprised that it took him a few days to get away from his mother. Emma knew that this is where Henry would come first, even if he hadn't sent a quick message that morning using the walkie talkies. The castle meant to much to him, to them. "Nice to see you, too," she told his back.

"The storm!"

The storm had not been kind to the castle, bringing all but the main support structure down. "It's okay–we can fix it. I'll talk to Marco."

Henry threw his bike to the ground and started frantically digging around in the sand. "Do you think it's still here?"

"Do I think what is here?"

"My book."

"Why'd you bury it here?"

"So my mom didn't find it." Emma did not understand his logic, but she tried to roll with it anyway.

Emma knelt in the sand next to him and started digging, "Henry, I appreciate the pirate mentality but I don't think that was the best laid plan."

"I couldn't let the Evil Queen find it." As he spoke, his hands revealed a bright red metal box hidden in the sand.

"What about leaving it with me?"

"She'll look there."

"She can't look where she doesn't have a key."

He couldn't hear her through his relief. "I'm so glad it's safe."

Emma smiled at his relief. "Henry, does your mom know about the castle?"

He shook his head, "No. It's our secret." Henry put a finger to his lips in a hush-hush gesture.

Emma put on her most serious face, trying to mask her amusement, and mimicked his finger-to-lips movement.

They both broke out into grins.

"Henry! Henry!" Henry slammed the box shut and rushed to rebury it as Regina stormed towards them. "I've been looking everywhere for you. You know you have a session with Archie this morning." Turning towards Emma with a sneer, "I should have known he was with you. Henry– car. Now."

Emma spoke as Henry ran towards the mayor's car, "Good afternoon, Madam Mayor."

"You let him play here?"

She shrugged and ignored Regina's accusation, "The storm hit it hard, but it can be rebuilt."

Regina did not appreciate her nonchalant demeanor. "Well, can you fix a cracked cranium? Because that's what you'll have on your hands if one of these boards collapse under his weight. You don't think of Henry or his safety. Just ways around me. Miss Swan, don't let your feelings cloud your judgement. People can get hurt."

Look at the pot calling the kettle black, Emma thought. This lady literally cursed an entire country out of revenge against a single person who made a mistake when they were ten years old. Further, it is ironic to think that Regina blamed a ten year olds actions when it directly affected her, but refuses to acknowledge that Henry, a ten year old himself, has any kind of agency over his actions."I think people are getting hurt, but it's not because of me."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"That you're the mayor– take responsibility for your actions."

Regina narrowed her eyes into a glare at Emma, "I don't know to what you are referring sheriff, but unlike you I have work to do." That was all the goodbye she gave Emma before marching away.

Emma made sure to take the red metal box with her when she left.

"Don't let my feelings cloud my judgement? That's all Regina ever does." Emma complained to James, who could only nod in agreement as he was busy shoving a hamburger into his mouth.

His gluttonous demeanor didn't bother Emma, but the nineteen year old Killian Jones she had known was all manners and decorum, while she ate like a shit pig after a long day on deployment. She wondered if Killian could see himself now what he would say. Would he be disgusted with his cursed self?

After their talk during the storm she had been afraid that James would pull away, that she had pushed too much. That she would lose him again. Instead he had been sad, and reflecting on his behavior the next day Emma thought he looked almost heartbroken.

She can relate.

In the end, something in James melted towards her and he became more comfortable.

After he scarfed down his burger he told Emma, "Well, Regina has never been great about taking criticism or responsibility for herself. Besides, that castle was fine before the storm. It just needs rebuilt now."

"How did she even find out about the castle?"

"She's the mayor love, she knows everything." Right.

"Yeah, well, how do you stay ahead of a person who knows everything?"

A voice interrupted them, "I think I can help with that."

Emma and James looked up at Sidney Glass pushing his way into the booth next to Emma. She and James exchanged a warning and uncomfortable glance before focusing on Sidney.

"Woah. Sidney. You want a side of bacon with that whiskey?" Emma didn't like unfamiliar people sitting next to her, and she certainly didn't like drunk men sitting next to her.

"You want to show the town who the mayor really is? I can help."

"That's going to be a little hard to do from inside her pocket, mate." James told him as he stood up.

"The mayor and I are done."

"Sure you are." Emma said, leaning back into the corner of the booth, trying to put some sort of distance between them. He smelled like Jack and a trap.

"She got me fired from the paper. She made a fool of me in the election. So I started working on an exposé on the mayor's office, and I found something she didn't want found."

He laid out his line, but the fish weren't biting. "I'm sorry to inform you Sidney, but if the evidence you claim to have has been illegally obtained it is completely useless to us." Emma told him through gritted teeth.

Jones loomed over him, he looked as though he was ready to tear Sidney from the booth at a moment's notice, cautiously watching Emma squeezed in the corner. "But we'll tell you what, publish your exposé first and then we'll decide if we need to pursue it."

Sidney felt that his allotted time had run out and became flustered, "Yes, well. That does sound like the more responsible approach for you all. I guess I– uh– better go work on that exposé then. Have a good day, Sheriff Swan, Sheriff Jones."

They both nodded their goodbyes.

"You alright, love?" James asked, his eyes not focusing onto her until Sidney was out of view.

"I'm fine."

Jones turned to Emma then, reading her like a book, and he found within her pages that she wanted the topic dropped. So with a smile he asked, "So Swan, what's the other news for today?" When he sat down to eat his fries he interrupted Emma before she answer with a, "Blast him! My fries got cold."

Emma smirked, "Bad luck, Jones. But I've got an idea that might cheer you up."

"And what is that?" He asked, sitting up to pay attention.

Emma fiddled with her napkin. The station situation hurt, but in the end it felt like a step forward. She wanted to risk another step. "Valentine's Day is only a few days away." James' eyebrows shot up, "I don't have a date. You don't have a date– or I don't think you have a date. Do you have a date?" Fuck, she was nervous. He was gorgeous. Of course he already has a date. Why the fuck did she think this was a good idea again?

James leaned back, his tongue licking the corner of his mouth with a scandalously raised eyebrow, "No, Emma. I do not have a date." His flirtatious appearance quickly shifted to uncomfortable with his hand coming up to scratch his ear. "I've never seen you go on a date. What am I supposed to top?"

"There's no topping of anything. I just wanted to have a nice night and I thought you would too." In all honesty, Emma wanted to spend an evening with him. With it being only the two of them working at the station they haven't had much chance to spend time with each other outside of work. When Killian left her ten years ago a cavity had formed in her chest that ached with his absence. With him here, right in front of her but not knowing who she is, that cavity only widened. The few and far between chances they had to just be them, without work pressing down on them was the only balm for her pain. In those moments, Emma felt closer to Killian than she had in ten years.

"Why, love, are you just trying to downplay how irresistible you find me?"

Emma tried to smile, to laugh at his ridiculousness, to enjoy his more open and flirtatious demeanor, but the grief for Killian had consumed her thoughts and brought her down. "No," she told him, her voice soft and sad, "I just really miss you."

James dropped his roguish attitude in place for a gentle look, reaching his hand across the table for Emma's. "I'd love nothing more than to spend an evening with you." He told her, eyes wide and honest.

Killian was so close in that moment, Emma felt the ghost of his forehead resting against hers.

"But I have one question." He looked so open, so scared, his blue eyes wide and vulnerable, "If your Killian is here in Storybrooke, why are you asking me?"

Words would not come from Emma, and before she could form them James read the answer on her face. I just did.

"Am I interrupting something?" Ruby's voice intruded on them.

Emma and James jumped apart, his hand jerked away, leaving her skin burning cold.

"What is it, Ruby?" James asked.

Ruby grinned wide, "Sorry to disappoint you, but really I just need to talk to Emma." Turning towards Emma, "Ashley, Mary Margaret, and I are having a girls night on Valentine's Day. You wanna join?" Suspiciously glancing back at James she said, "There will be tons of cute guys at the bar. That cute guy–what was his name? Heath! You know, he's asked about you a few times."

Emma narrowed her eyes at Ruby. There was no Heath and she had never been to the bars in Storybrooke other than to make arrests.

Across from her, James was glaring at the empty space next to him, jaw tense.

Ruby was trying to be helpful, but she didn't realize that she was also being cruel.

"Funny Ruby, but I don't remember a Heath or ever getting drinks at a local bar." Ruby's face fell. "Guess you have me mixed with someone else." Picking up her jacket, Emma made to leave. "Thanks for the invitation, but I have other plans." She told her as she placed money on the table. "Have fun though."

On Valentine's Day both Emma and James were buzzing with excitement. He had insisted on doing the planning for the evening.

"What? You think I don't know how to plan a date?"

He stepped forward, his face inches from hers, "You know how to catch criminals and fight bad guys. I know how to plan an evening out."

Emma didn't fight him, curious about what he'd come up with and if it would bring her closer to Killian. She had taken extra care when getting ready that morning.

Mary Margaret began to get suspicious about James Jones and who he was, but Emma deflected her questions with ones of her own about David. Mary Margaret was much more willing to answer questions than Emma.

Depressed, she told Emma, "David doesn't want to do anything for Valentine's Day. He said that he needs to invest time in himself and figure out who he is before he could throw himself in a new relationship. I understand that, but…"

"There's an ache in your chest that he heals?"

"Yeah, exactly. Is that what James does for you? Who is he, Emma?"

She ignored the question, "You've started David on the right path, or what we hope the right path is. We're mostly bumbling around in the dark, but it can only be a matter of time before the curse is broken. Just… don't lose contact with him."

At mid-morning Emma and James answered a call about a break-in at Gold's house. The door was left wide open, but they did not notice anything to be out of place aside from the front door with its bashed lock.

Gold greeted them with a gun not too long after they arrived. "Sheriff Swan. Sheriff Jones."

"Put your gun down. Your neighbor saw your front door open and called it in."

"It appears I've been robbed."

"I wonder why." James told him, very much in a tone that conveyed that he was not surprised at all.

"Yeah, well, I'm a difficult man to love. Sheriffs, you can go now. I know exactly what was taken and who did it. I've got it from here."

James gave Gold a stern look, eyebrows furrowed. "No, you don't."

Emma joined him, "This was a robbery– a public menace. And if you don't tell us what you know, I'll have to arrest you for obstruction of justice. I have a feeling that you don't want to be behind bars."

"Indeed not." Defeatedly he told them, "His names' Moe French. He sells flowers. He recently defaulted on a loan. A short time ago, we had a little disagreement over collateral."

Looking at Jones Emma said, "Okay. We'll go get him– check him out."

"I'm sure you will– assuming I don't find him… Let's just say, bad things tend to happen to bad people."

"Is that a threat?" James asked.

"Observation. Good luck." Emma and James watched Gold with wary eyes for a moment before leaving, both certain that they had to find Moe French before he did.

Their first stop was at the home of the man himself. It was unlocked, with everything laid out neatly on his dining room table. The only thing missing was Moe French.

"Why lie everything out only to leave it behind?" Emma wondered out loud.

"Maybe he's planning on coming back?" James suggested.

Emma shook her head, "No, he'd be an idiot to do that. He left Gold's door wide open and his unlocked. He wanted someone to know he'd been there, and he wanted someone to find all of this."

"For what purpose?"

"So we'd stop looking." Emma inspected an antique intricately designed copper tea cup.

"But he's still missing."

"Yes, but a thief missing with no goods is much lower on the totem pole than a thief with goods."

James nodded, understanding her meaning. "He stole nice, expensive items in order to steal something smaller, probably something more personal that only Gold would notice is missing."

"Exactly, it was a personal problem between them and he reacted by taking something personal from Gold".

"The next question is what did he take?"

Looking at the copper cup gave her an idea. "That is something we'll have to ask Gold."

A call came in with a lead on Moe's location, which left Emma alone at the station to deal with Gold as James went out to look around. She wasn't upset by the situation, Emma thought it was time to stop dancing around Gold.

She had laid everything out on her desk and covered it until Gold arrived. Holding onto a corner of the cloth she told the anxious pawnbroker, "We went to his house. He left his door unlocked and everything inside. But I suspect to you we've recovered nothing." Unveiling what lie beneath the sheet, what Emma found on his face confirmed her suspicions.

He was full of rage. "You're right. You've recovered nothing."

He began to storm out but Emma's words stopped him, "What's missing? A chipped cup?"

Gold whirled on her, "What do you know, dearie?"

"Exactly what I needed to. If what's missing is something you'll murder for. I was right."

His face twisted into a vicious sneer, "Let's hope you get to him first, then."

When he was gone, Emma called James to tell him what was missing. "It's a chipped tea cup and he'll murder Moe for it. We have to find him first, Jones."

"I'm trying, love. Several leads just came in." He gave the details to Emma, splitting them fifty-fifty. Before they hung up he told her, "And Emma? If this ruins tonight I might murder Moe French."

Emma grinned into the phone, "Then we better get moving, Jones. We've got a murder to prevent."

A lead had come in to Emma about the North Woods, a rather vacant side of town that was full of large houses spread far apart. She thought that this one might be it because someone could easily come and go without ever being seen here.

She was right, but it didn't lead her to Moe French.

Instead, it took her right into a man named Jefferson who barely escaped the hood of her car by jumping over an incline.

Emma slammed on the brakes and jumped out of her car, "I'm so sorry! Are you okay?"

He stood up and checked himself for injuries, "Uh, I think so."

"Are you sure?" Instinctively she started to check over him herself for injuries, but he grabbed a hold of her hands to stop her.

"I'm fine. I'm not used to sharing the road with cars so late. You're the sheriff, aren't you?"

"Yeah." She answered, her brain though was somewhere else, running through military medic protocols.

"What brings you out here in the middle of the night?"

Emma took a deep breath and stepped back, trying to bring herself back to the present. "I'm out looking for a man named Moe French. Have you seen or heard anything suspicious?"

"Can't say that I have. I hope you find him."

"Thank you."

Jefferson began to walk away, but Emma saw the obvious limp he was trying to hide.

"Oh, you're hurt." God damnit, Emma.

"No, I just twisted my ankle, I think. I live just a mile down the road. I'll make it okay." He insisted. In the back of her mind something tingled at his words, but she ignored it.

"No, let me drive you. I insist."

He didn't fight her, "Thank you. I'm Jefferson."

She held out her hand, "Emma."

As they got into Emma's car James called her.

She sent it to voicemail.

They spent the afternoon chasing leads, both continually coming up empty. More and more calls came in. None brought answers until night fell when James got a lead that took him to Gold's cabin on the outskirts of town.

Gold found Moe first and time was running out.

Tick tock.

James tried to call Emma, but was sent to voicemail.

He talked to her voicemail when it was over and Gold was under arrest and Moe French was in an ambulance. "Where are you, love? Gold found Moe first, but he's alive and Gold's in a cell."

He talked to her voicemail again after he booked Gold at the station. "Emma? I've booked Gold. I'm going to go home and get ready. Please call me and let me know you're alright."

Voicemail again when he went home to clean up and get dressed. "I'm on my way to the loft, love."

Voicemail when she wasn't at her apartment. "Emma? Emma, please pick up. Where are you?"

Voicemail when he learned that it had been six hours since anyone had contact with her. "Emma? Emma, honey, it's Mary Margaret. We haven't heard from you in hours. Are you okay?"

Voicemail when the fear set in. "Emma, dear god, love. We're looking for you. Mary Margaret, David, Ruby, Granny, Marco. Everyone. We're all looking now." His voice caught in his throat, "I swear, I won't stop until I find you."

Emma Swan was missing and James Jones didn't realize how terrified that would make him.

He called Mary Margaret Blanchard and David Nolan. He told Granny and Ruby, Archie and Marco. It wasn't long before a small army was looking for her in the predawn light.

The worst part of her missing was telling Henry, who cried and accused his mother of orchestrating the disappearance.

No trace could be found.

Given their history, James considered Regina a likely suspect and wanted to take Henry from her. Mary Margaret would have taken him in, where she and David Nolan could take turns looking after him while James worked tirelessly to find Emma. But Regina refused on the grounds that he didn't have enough evidence to make an arrest.

And she was right, damnit.

James knew Mary Margaret would be afraid, but hadn't expected the strength of David Nolan's reaction. He dropped everything from work and divorce proceedings to join them. The loft became their headquarters.

James felt like he was losing the ground he had been standing on. The edges of his life blurred, mixing with another.

As he worked flashes of another life played behind his eyelids. Images of a youthful and grinning Emma Swan in a military uniform. Grasslands he had never seen. Ships he was never on. A brother he didn't have. Swords he didn't know how to use. Echoes of dances, laughter, and love bounced around his heart, making it ache with a need that somehow felt so familiar, and yet so distant.

All of this bombarded him, and all of it made him more and more determined to find Emma Swan.

He was terrified.

They all were.

Emma Swan, the orphan who never had any one that wanted her around, now had a family that was desperate to have her back.

And she didn't even know.