A/n: Thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed/alerted/favorited this. The positive response has been overwhelming and I can say nothing except thank you so, so much. This chapter is a bit of a filler chapter; I split it into two parts because it was getting too long. The second part should be along shortly, but with finals looming... Anywho, please leave me a review with your comments/questions - it's much appreciated!

Enjoy!

Killian felt his lips twitch upwards into a grin; it became all too apparent, all too quickly, which parent Emma took after. Prince Charming came down the stairs cautiously but quickly, crossing his arms over his chest. Killian had been in enough brawls to know when a man was sizing him up, and found himself quite keen to test this man. The stories of this man's skill with a sword were legendary, even among thieves, and Killian was nothing if not curious.

"I would think that would be fairly obvious, your majesty," Killian said, knowing better than to try and charm his way out of this conflict.

Charming looked at him, his eyes piercing Killian perceptively before coming to rest on the hook on Killian's left hand for a moment. His eyes traveled back up to meet Killian's own, his stance becoming nonchalant. "Captain Killian Jones, also known as Hook, and thirty-two other pseudonyms. Self-proclaimed Pirate King out for revenge against Rumpelstiltskin for the death of your lover. The man who nearly separated me from my wife and daughter for eternity," Charming's tone grew colder the longer he spoke.

"I did what I had to do," Killian defended himself, shaking his head. "I'm sure your delightful wife has already filled you in on the particular circumstances."

"Like how you tried to kill my daughter?" Charming's tone, if it had been cold before, seemed to be three octaves lower.

Killian scoffed. "Come now, I'm a pirate with over three hundred years worth of fighting expertise. If I wanted her dead, she'd be dead. As it stands..." Killian trailed off, wisely choosing not to finish his thought aloud. 'As it stands I want her in an entirely different fashion,'

"See, that's what I said - and then she told me that it was your arrogance that was your downfall. Now I think I understand what she meant," Charming's lip curled into a sneer, and Killian could clearly see which parent Emma took after.

It was at this moment that Killian knew what it was he would have to do to achieve the means to his end. He'd initially planned on taking her red leather jacket, something she would notice immediately, but now Killian couldn't help but think of how quickly she would come running when she arrived home to find her home in disarray, and her father injured. She would be furious. He smirked. Well, subtle wasn't quite his style anyway. He drew his sword slowly, making his intentions quite clear to the Prince.

The Prince straightened, nodding, and unsheathed his sword, discarding the scabbard immediately. Killian identified the fighting style as one used by the Royal Guard - unsurprising as he was a Prince - but noted the position of his shoulders, a deviation from the technique. He was going to enjoy this.
Killian grinned. "Shall we, my liege?"

Emma grunted in annoyance, crossing and uncrossing her legs every five minutes. She tried to focus on her paperwork. Fingertips ghosted over her skin, searing the flesh of her ankle and the warm weight of his palm against her neck. She groaned, rolling her eyes towards the clock. Noon. She packed up her desk and tried to shoulder off the strange sensations. She was just going to have to avoid him until these...feelings went away. Emma stopped outside the station and reluctantly walked to her car; normally she'd eat at Granny's for lunch, but now that Hook had seen her there... No, she would eat lunch at home today.

Thankfully, the drive to her apartment was a short one; every time she sat down, Emma could feel his hand gently squeezing her thigh. She felt frustrated, in more ways than one. Even as a teenager her hormones hadn't been this bad! She jogged up the stairs, hoping the three flights of stairs would help her burn some pent up energy. Whether by her job as Sheriff, or perhaps her past as a criminal, Emma knew something was off before she got to the top of the stairs. The hair on the back of her neck began to prickle keenly, in a pleasant sort of way. She attempted to disregard it as pent up nerves, attempted to ignore the fact that the last time she had felt this was when Hook showed up in her hotel room.

'Please no, please no, please no,' She chanted in her head, climbing the stairs slowly. She reached the top and walked to the end of the hallway, her eyes drawn to the door of her apartment, which was ajar. She sighed, her eyelids fluttering closed briefly. 'It couldn't have happened after I got a full night's rest and had time to readjust to this world?'

Emma approached the door quietly, pulling the gun out of the back of her jeans. She heard the quiet noise of the tv, some reality tv show playing softly in the background. Not one to beat around the bush, Emma decided to take her element of surprise; she kicked the door open and entered quickly, her gun raised. The entire apartment was destroyed; rips and tears in every couch cushion, shattered glass from a vase, broken dishes. David was lying on the floor, no life-threatening, visible damage apart from a nasty gash he'd taken to the head.

Emma surged forward and checked his pulse, noting his steady breathing pattern, and checked the rest of the apartment to make sure the assailant wasn't still around. She called the hospital first, asking them to send an ambulance, before calling her mother and informing her of the attack. Emma sat down next to him, cradling his head in her lap. She barely knew this man, and what she did know of him - the Storybrooke him, that is - she didn't like. Yet, she felt fiercely protective of him, much in the same way she felt protective of Mary-Margaret. He was her father, and though she had only known him for a short while, she was startled to realize that it meant something. She cared about him, as more than just a citizen in the town she had sworn to protect.

His eyes opened slowly, and Emma smiled gently. "Hey,"

He was disoriented, the confusion apparent. "Emma..." He rasped, shaking his head as though to clear his thoughts. "Hook..."

"Hook?" She asked, her tone biting. She felt the blood run cold. "Hook did this?" She asked, clarifying.

David nodded weakly, coughing as he tried to sit up. "Pirate...cheated..."

"Easy," Emma murmured, helping him. On the outside, she was calm. On the inside, she was boiling. The paramedics arrived and carted him away, even despite his many protests and desperate pleas to Emma to not let them take him. Emma refused, telling him that he needed to see a doctor - and that his wife would be waiting for him at the hospital.

"Miss, are you coming?" A paramedic asked, ready to close the door behind him.
Emma considered it, knowing that this was probably one of those 'family' moments that was supposed to bring everyone together; she shook her head. She didn't feel like bonding with her family just then. She felt like killing someone. No, not someone. Him. He needed to be taught a lesson, and it looked like she was going to be the one handing out the punishment.

"No," She said aloud, her jaw clenched. "No, I'm not." The paramedic nodded and left, shutting the door behind him.

Emma saw the sword, her father's sword, lying haphazardly on the floor - undoubtedly where it was sent when Killian disarmed him. She picked it up, felt the familiar weight in her hands. Gold must have retrieved it from the Library basement at some point, returned it to her father. She could go to him, duel him, make him pay for the injury he had caused. But she didn't have the skill. She would have lost their duel back in the Enchanted Forest too, had she not been desperate enough to distract him. And, if Killian could best Prince Charming, Emma had more than enough cause to be wary.
Emma found the sword scabbard, sheathing the blade and attaching it to her hip. She was going to arrest Killian for breaking and entering, and assault, because that was her job. She was not going after him for revenge, but for justice. The sword was just coming because she hadn't replaced her gun yet. The words sounded hollow, even to her own mind. She left the apartment as it was, too angry to really consider what she was doing.

In hindsight, she really should have.

Henry sat on the school steps, pulling his jacket more tightly around himself. It was colder now that the sun was setting. The clock tower chimed five, and he sighed, frowning. He wasn't exactly sure what he'd been expecting with Emma and Mary-Margaret's return, but it wasn't this. Mary-Margaret never came back from lunch; the substitute didn't explain why. No one came to pick him up from school. He knew something must have happened, they wouldn't have forgotten him otherwise. That didn't stop it from hurting.

He would have walked back to the apartment by himself, had it not been for the overbearing gaze of the substitute teacher. She had called his mom when no one came to pick him up, and then 'graciously' waited with him while Regina came to pick him up. He saw the car pull up to the curb and stood, giving the substitute a half smile, before pulling open the car door.

"Hey," Regina greeted him with a soft smile. "How was school?"

"It was fine," Henry said, frowning. "But Mary-Margaret went to lunch and didn't come back. What's going on?"

Regina put the car in drive, looking pointedly at the seat belt until Henry took the hint. Henry buckled it, rolling his eyes, and waited impatiently for his mother to tell him what was going on.

Regina pursed her lips. "Cora is here,"

"And Captain Hook." Henry supplied with a grin, thinking of their conversation this morning.

"How do you know that?" Regina inquired, frowning; that man was the last person she wanted around her son.

"I talked to him this morning at Granny's before school,"

"I thought you were meeting Emma for hot cocoa?"

"I was, but all the seats were taken and there was someone new sitting in our regular booth. I was curious." Henry admitted, shrugging. "He was nice."

"And what did Emma have to say about this?"

"She didn't really say much to him; they just kind of argued. I wasn't really paying attention," Henry replied, reluctant to admit that he saw more than he let on. "But what's going on? Why didn't Emma pick me up, or Charming, and why did Mary-Margaret leave?"

"David was attacked. He's not seriously injured," She rushed to assure him, seeing the concerned expression. They pulled into the driveway of their home, and Henry exited the car quickly. "We can go to the hospital to visit him after I changed my clothes," Regina said, gesturing to her outfit; Henry then notice the paint splatters and ratty t-shirt she was wearing. His lips twitched upwards into a smile, never having seen his mother look anything but put together; it was when he saw the red paint in her hair that the laughter started.
"What is so funny?" She asked, an amused but confused expression on her face.

"You might want a shower too," Henry said, grinning. He reached up pulled a paint chip out of her hair, showing her. She reached up and tried to finger-comb through her hair, only to be met with resistance; the paint had already dried. She laughed too, putting an arm around his shoulders.

"After I shower, and change, we'll go visit David in the hospital and try and come up with a plan," Henry hugged her around the waist, and Regina felt her resolve grow; the Charming family was a part of his life now, and she would have to accept them if she wanted her relationship with Henry to flourish.

She unlocked the door and set her keys on the end table by the door, shrugging off her coat to hang on the hook by the door. Henry came in behind her and shut the door, setting his backpack down. He sniffed the air, and looked up at her curiously.

"Were you baking?"

Regina shook her head and frowned, smelling it too. Apple pie. The pair wandered through the dining room into the kitchen; Regina shoved Henry behind her.

"Welcome home dear!" Cora said, smiling as she took the pie out of the oven. "I hope you're hungry."

"Hello, mother," Regina greeted her, venom seeping into her tone.