Chapter One:
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.
Emma Swan let out a ragged sigh and ran a hand through her unruly golden curls as she began the short walk home. It was a route she was familiar with. After nearly 7 years of living in New York and working for the same Bail-Bonds agency, she knew it like the back of her hand. Usually she walked home with her co-worker Rosie Taylor but unfortunately, Rosie was sick so she hadn't shown up for work today. So, Emma walked home alone. But it was okay, she was used to being alone, in fact she'd always done better on her own. Because though Emma thought Rosie was pleasant company, they weren't friends. Friends, was just not something Emma did. She was kind of a loner. She always had been, always would be. No friends, no family.
Her loving adoptive parents had been brutally murdered when she was 6. She hadn't been home at the time, she'd gotten into a fight with her mother and in turn ran off in a common toddlers temper tantrum. When she'd eventually returned home, her house was lit up in flames. Her home was burned to the ground, and along with it, her parents. After further investigation, proof was found that her parents were in fact dead before the fire was lit.
That day Emma vowed to find the scumbags that did this, that tore her family apart, the wretched people that caused her so much unnecessary and incessant pain. Needless to say, Emma missed out on a regular childhood, her early years consumed with an anger that no little girl should ever have to endure. Shame, she didn't even have a tombstone to visit.
Unfortunately, Emma was unable to escape the terrible torment of foster homes, for she was 6 and not nearly old enough to fend for herself, and no one wanted to adopt her again. After all, who would want to adopt an angry 6 year old? Regardless, she was never quite the same after that particular incident, second adoption or no.
As Emma grew up, moving from foster home to foster home, she quickly and understandably she lost all of her few friends. Because really, what sensible mother would let their child play with the foster child? Eventually one day she realized there was nothing keeping her, so when she was 16, she left, ran away from her abusive foster home and moved to Philadelphia and became a waitress at a cheap roadside diner.
That was about the same time she met him. When he left her 2 years later, she stayed only as long as necessary to do her time, and do a couple other things that she was never too proud of, before she worked up enough money to move to New York and into her current apartment.
(Emma's hands balled up into white-knuckled fists at the recollection of what that bastard did to her. Bars clicking shut and the wailing of sirens echoed in her mind at the thought.)
She applied at the first law enforcement agency she found, which just so happened to be a Bail-Bonds agency, and when she got in she set to work. After 2 years of digging up records, interviewing witnesses, and following suspects, she finally found her parents murders, (a pair of dirty thugs, obviously a hired hit and run) and put them up for a lifetime behind bars.
Her deep emerald eyes darkened and filled with tears at the thought of her parents untimely death at the hands of a pair of low lives straight from the street. Though they weren't her real parents, she'd loved them dearly and they loved her right back; that was real enough for her.
Suddenly her ears perked up at the sound of footfalls behind her. She had a strange feeling that this person was following her so she paused and pretended to dig through her purse. She grabbed her cell phone, better safe than sorry. Maybe, but who would you even call in an emergency? A voice taunted hauntingly in the back of her head. She merely shook her head as if to get rid of those thoughts and kept up her façade. The footfalls stopped mere seconds after hers and as soon as she began walking they started up again. Emma smirked to herself and continued her act of false ignorance.
Suddenly she took a sharp, unexpected turn into an alley that shortened the already short walk to her apartment. She heard the footsteps falter for a moment before resuming their steady pace. She tried her best to stifle her chuckle.
Once she reached her building she opened the door and walked up to her apartment. She noted with slight surprise that her stalker didn't follow her into the building. She stepped inside her apartment and quietly kicked off her heels. She didn't turn on her lights to maintain the illusion that she hadn't reached her apartment yet, she tip-toed over to her window, resembling a thief in her own apartment, (she anxiously swallowed down the bile that came up at the memories 'thief' brought up in her mind) and slowly pulled her curtains apart just a crack.
She glanced down and noticed that a man, illuminated by a street light, in a pair of dark wash jeans and a black hoodie was in fact watching for signs of life in all the visible windows of her building. She flicked the switch next to her and light flooded the room. She watched as the man's head turned abruptly to her window. His eyes jumped rapidly from window to window, counting until they reached he's once again, before counting once again in the other direction. Probably trying to get my apartment number she thought to herself.
Emma watched as he fumbled in his satchel and took out a black spiral notebook, resting it on his gloved hand that seemed strangely stiff, then wrote down what she supposed was her address and then he turned on his heel and walked away. She quickly slipped on a more comfortable and significantly quieter pair of shoes as opposed to her previous heels and slipped out her door, intent of finding out the identity of her mysterious and potentially dangerous stalker.
Emma followed the strange man for a few blocks, watching for any signs of a man knowing he's being followed. So far she'd only picked up on his casual glances to the right and the slightest upward quirk of his lips when he did so. He knows Emma thought he knows he's being followed and he's… happy? Amused maybe?
They reached a strangely empty clearing and he came to a stop. She stopped as well a few paces behind him. After a few moments, during which she had stared suspiciously at the dark man as he fiddled with what she could now see was a prosthetic hand, a puff of purple smoke appeared and from the strange woman stepped out. She was wearing a dark blue ball gown with black lace trimmings.
"Cora." The dark man acknowledged.
"Hook. Is the object secure? Do you have the information I require?" she inquired in a light yet stern tone.
"Lass, have you ever known me to fail?" he asked with a slightly bitter chuckle.
As soon as his lips parted, and that sinfully sexy accent made itself known, Emma's heart fluttered to say the least. No Emma! Don't think like that, remember what he did to you. All the pain his abandonment caused. Do you really want to have to relive that? Now please, knock it off! Emma's expression hardened as she internally scolding herself over her treacherous thoughts, his face flashing through her mind.
Cora chuckled lightly and said, "Of course not Captain. That's why I chose you to do the job."
He smirked at the special emphasis that she put on what could only be his title. Then he turned and produced what a dark notebook, which Emma quickly recognized as the one he wrote her address in, then moved hand said notebook over to the middle aged woman. Just as she reached for it, he quickly, almost as an afterthought, moved it above his head and just out of her reach saying, "Ah ah ah Cora. You know what I want."
With a frustrated sigh, Cora stretched her hand out and lightly touched his forehead. He was quickly engulfed in black smoke. It collapsed on itself before growing bigger than before. When the strange fog finally cleared up, his prosthetic hand had fallen to the floor with a thunk and in its place was a wickedly sharp hook. I must be dreaming Emma thought dimly. The mans clothing was replaced as well, he was dressed in a pair of tight leather slacks and a blood red velvet vest. He had neglected to put on a shirt underneath said vest, so its plunging neckline revealed a tantalizing glimpse of his chest hair. Over top of it all he had a heavy, knee length leather coat with clasps going down the front.
"That's not what I meant." He growled out, then in almost as an afterthought he added, "Though at least you did me one favor," he smiled tightly "I'm devilishly handsome again." His tight smile quirked up to one side, morphing into a cocksure smirk.
Meanwhile, standing in the shadows, Emma stared bewilderedly at the scene as it played out before her very eyes, desperately trying to piece together the situation that she had walked into. In the last 5 minutes she had seen a flamboyantly dressed woman appear out of thin air, then she saw that same woman completely change a man's appearance with a mere flick of her wrist. She was baffled to say the least.
Is this why the man was amused when he saw her following him? What did any of this have to do with her? Why did he have to follow her in the first place? Why were they bickering over a notebook that evidently held information about her? So many unanswered questions.
"You know just as much as I do that the dagger is irretrievable at the moment." At her scolding tone, he snarled "But don't worry Captain, you'll get your revenge, all in due time." She smiled thinly, "All in due time. Now," she said, snapping back to attention, "the information I require." She held her hand out expectantly.
The man whom she referred to as Hook begrudgingly handed over the notebook. Hook, hmm funny nickname. Wait she'd also referred to him as captain! Captain Hook!? Yup- I'm definitely dreaming.
"And this contains everything I need to know?" Cora asked curtly.
"Yes of course, Majesty." He spat between clenched teeth. "Her occupation and its location, her current residence and other excess information that maybe of your use."
Majesty? Like royalty!? This dream just gets more and more confusing.
"Good, then we can get started." She smiled a crocodile-like grin. And with that they were both engulfed in a swirling mass of black and purple smoke. The smoke then collapsed on itself then disappeared with a loud pop.
Emma stared blankly at the spot where they had been standing a few seconds ago, her mind racing a mile a minute. Slowly Emma moved out of her hiding spot and walked over to said spot and crouched down, inspecting for any signs of trickery.
After a few minutes of inspection, she came up empty. If this is really a dream then I shouldn't be worrying so much about something that I probably won't even remember in the morning, Emma thought, consoling herself half heartedly. Emma walked back to her apartment in a zombielike state all the while her mind wandered from the wildly out of place outfits to the strange names, references and titles.
When she finally reached her apartment, she toed off her shoes and padded to her room, shutting the door behind her. Her mind was hazy with confusion as she absentmindedly changed and collapsed onto her large bed. She stared at the ceiling for a few moments while she pondered the strange dream within a dream she appeared to have found herself in. Slowly her eyes drifted shut, and the last thing she remembered was a pair of deep cerulean eyes filled with mischief.
A/N: Chapter 1 is up! Once again it's pretty short, but it's necessary to get it started. So in turn the first few chapters will be about this length but as we get further into the fic, the chapters will lengthen! So worry not my wonderful readers! I'm really hoping that you guys are understanding were I'm heading with this fic, but if you aren't, please feel free to ask any questions and I'll try my best to clear anything up and make sure to be not so vague in future chapters! Review please!