A/N: Thank you, thank you, thank you for the awesome response to the last chapter. I was so touched by all the support! Your theorizing is spectacular; some of you are getting fairly close, though I feel certain I may still surprise you yet! As always, a thousand thanks to Yettoseeyoufail; seriously guys, if not for her, you'd be waiting months for these chapters. She also contributed some really great lines of dialogue! Without further ado, our plot begins to unravel… (oh, and just in case, there is an M warning in play).
Chapter 15
Heartfelt Conversations
The sun shone on my face so brightly that a dozen shades of orange blazed behind my eyelids. Killian's firm body pressed against mine from shoulder to hip; his calloused fingertips brushing teasing strokes along my jaw. "Emma, love…" he whispered. His breath was as gentle as a warm summer breeze against my face.
I sighed and snuggled closer against him, the wooden deck of the Jolly Roger more comfortable than I would've imagined. The feather-light touches continued, tracing my pulse from my neck to right above my heart. Killian's leg shifted to lie between my thighs and I couldn't resist flexing my hips to feel his hard muscle against my groin. He chuckled lightly, sending another puff of air against my cheek. "Wake up, love." His teeth replaced his words at my ear.
"Mmmm…so nice here with you," I mumbled against his throat. I could feel him swallow as I pressed my lips lightly against his salty skin. His fingers trailed along the exposed skin at the collar of my shirt, sending tiny bolts of excitement throughout my body. I sighed and let my hand curve along his arm and then down his toned back.
"Emma," he called again, biting playfully at my earlobe. His hand moved to slide beneath the hem of my shirt, brushing against my lower abdomen so softly it almost tickled. "You're dreaming…" I felt his smile against my cheek a moment before his delicious mouth covered mine.
My eyes snapped open, meeting his sparkling blue gaze. He pulled back by only a few inches, positively beaming. "Good morning, love." I felt his fingers tease under the edge of my underwear, making my stomach and much lower parts clench.
"Good morning," I murmured sleepily. With a quick flick of my eyes, I confirmed that I was currently in my bedroom – in bed…with a very adorable and very awake Killian – and not lounging on the deck of his ship.
His hand slid further beneath the fabric of my panties, fingers barely grazing the soft curls. Testing rather than teasing. "Pleasant dreams?" He grinned, his eyes shining with some unnamed satisfaction.
Realization of why Killian was next to me funneled back into my brain. My hand lifted to his brow. "How are you?" I asked as I turned my head marginally to check the time; I should have woken him hours ago.
"I'm fine, love." He spoke tenderly, his face lowering to mine again. I stopped him with my fingers over his lips. He nipped at them playfully. "Darling, I am perfectly capable of giving you pleasure without jostling my brain." His tongue licked his lower lip, catching my eyes in a sort of trance. My mind exploded with images of what he could do with that mouth, what he'd already teased me about. His lips curved into his most devilish type of smirk, eyes darkening. His voice lowered to a lover's whisper. "Oh love, don't fret; I shall have my mouth settled on your quim one day soon enough."
My pulse sped as I felt desire pool between my legs. Sensing my momentary shock, he leaned in to kiss me. He sucked my lower lip between his, catching it with his teeth before he used his tongue to soothe the sting. I gasped, my hand curling around his shoulder as my back arched. My body wanted nothing more than to completely surrender to his every demand, but I couldn't entirely dismiss that shred of doubt which questioned the wisdom of our actions. "Killian…wait," I breathed. "We shouldn't…your concussion…"
His fingers slipped further, spreading my lower lips and teasing at my entrance. His breath was hot and heavy as he spoke; "We definitively should." His eyes faded into a quiet desperation. "Please, Emma, I need to see you falling apart by my touch." He circled the shell of my ear with his tongue. "I promise not to raise my head from this pillow."
I'd like to say I gave it a lot of thought and was able to put him off, but as he smoothed his lips back along my jaw and his finger circled lightly over that aching spot below, I knew I didn't stand a chance. Wordlessly, I ground my hips against his questing fingers and sealed my mouth over his.
We kissed almost lazily but with amazing effects, neither of us moving anything but our lips and tongues. A thought formed in my mind of Killian's scruff burning against the sensitive skin of my thighs as his talented mouth recreated the motions against another part of me. I could've sworn I felt his tongue teasing my lower lips before slowly entering me and I cried weakly, pulling my head back to stare into his open eyes. "What…what was that?"
A surge of love mixed with excitement and…pride?…poured into my heart. "I was imagining the things I wish I could do to you, love, were it not for my promise to behave myself." He twisted his fingers, the tip of one pushing shallowly into me. My body curled.
"I felt it…saw it…" I replied, astonishment clear in my voice.
His eyes widened and his perfect white teeth flashed as he grinned. "Did you? Well, I wonder what else I can make you feel." He settled his forehead against mine – blue eyes staring as deeply into my soul as anyone ever had – and focused his efforts below.
Fingers slid deftly over slickened skin before plunging deep…again and again. He curled those fingers upward, grazing over that spot inside me that sent my pulse thundering out of control and my hips gyrating helplessly, seeking relief. My mind was torn between simultaneously feeling his motions and the projection of graphic images he was imagining. As his thumb pressed down on that swollen bundle of nerves, my mind saw his lips sucking intently on it. I tried to hold back a whimper – completely ravaged by both my own reactions and the intense wave of emotion he was sending across the bond.
"Don't hold back, love. Let me hear it…let me feel what I do to you," He rasped. His eyes burned like midnight blue flames, his face almost slack with need. He added a third finger and twisted.
A deep moan sounded from my chest before his name escaped my lips almost as a chant. My breath was ragged, adding to the light-headed sensation in my overwhelmed mind. I threaded my fingers into his hair and forced myself to keep my eyes fixated on his. "I love you, I love you, I love you," my mind cried into his. A soft veil of white magic surrounded his head like a halo. Where before I would've feared it, now it made me smile. I let my feelings of love fill us both, wrapping around us with all the comfort of a fleece blanket.
"Emma," he sighed in pleasure. He captured my mouth, his tongue thrusting forward to entwine with mine just as his fingers tipped me over the edge. Ripping my face away, I cried his name as waves of pleasure pulsed throughout my body.
With a few more gentle caresses, he lifted his hand from my lower body, bringing it up between us. Keeping our eyes locked, he slowly swirled his tongue around his fingers, sucking them into his mouth and cleaning them of me while moaning as if he'd just tasted a delicious treat. Heat flash boiled across my skin from the tips of my ears to the bottom of my toes. His smug satiation radiating across our bond did nothing to help. He chuckled as I nestled against his side, content to let my fingertips roam through the dark hair covering his upper body.
I ghosted over the marks on his chest, just trying to regain my composure. This close, it was obvious they were bruises. My thoughts slammed against my skull, all the warmth draining from my face. Bruises. Over his heart... I stilled my motions, aligning my thumb and middle finger over the fingerprint-sized marks. The sudden swell of awareness latched onto my conscience with painful, jagged teeth. Someone had tried to take Killian's heart.
"Love?" Killian asked softly.
I met his concerned gaze and swallowed, trying to mash down the bitter taste welling upwards from my stomach. "Your heart. These bruises – they're from someone's fingers. Someone tried to take your heart."
His eyes squinted before he blinked several times. "It's never caused bruising before."
"Before? What do you mean…before?" I felt my brow furrowing with a mix of concern and accusation.
"Aye, love. Twice I've been treated to that particular brand of pain; luckily neither thief ever took permanent hold. But as I've said, there were never any lingering marks."
A faint, but beautiful realization crept over my anxiety. "It's because it didn't work," I asserted, somehow knowing perfectly – without any concrete evidence – that whatever attempt had been made on Killian had failed. "Whoever it was couldn't do it."
Confusion presided over his features. He opened his mouth to speak but I cut him off. "No, think about it…" I sat up fully and placed my hand back over his chest. "When we bonded, I used my magic to connect us. My heart can't be taken. What if I transferred that protection to you?"
"Or, it could very well be that the miscreant was interrupted…" He smirked slightly. "…or had their own change of heart?"
"Maybe," I allowed, "but that brings us back to the bruises." I sorted through what little we knew about Killian's attack. "Who tried to take your heart before?"
His lips curled in a version of a very unimpressed sneer. "The crocodile," he began. Why was I not surprised? "And the Queen of Hearts herself."
Well, looks like we have yet another thing in common, I thought. "We can eliminate Cora. Gold is still a prime suspect. Other than that, Pan and Regina have the magic necessary to take a heart, though Pan is assumedly still trapped in Pandora's Box." I made a mental note to look into that.
Killian propped himself up, moving much easier this morning than he had last night. "I hate to further complicate the matter, but it really doesn't require magic to take a heart. After all, I've done it myself," he averted his eyes. Mine had widened enough for the both of us.
"Aurora?" He didn't answer; merely tilted his head slightly. I waited for a swift reaction of disgust or disappointment to wash over me, surprised when I merely felt pity. Through our link I knew he was remorseful for his actions in the Enchanted Forest, and from our conversation last night I knew it would take a long while before he moved past the 'waiting for the other shoe to drop' phase of our relationship. Now was not the time to reexamine past wrongs; not in the harsh light of day.
I covered the stump of his left arm with my hand, waiting for him to turn back to face me. His eyes were cautious, but loving. "If what you say is true than we haven't narrowed our list at all. You need to lie low until we know what's going on."
He brought his hand close to my cheek to brush a strand of hair away from my eyes. "As my lady wishes."
"Emma? Hook?" Mary Margaret's voice unexpectedly called from the hallway. The sound of her steps grew dangerously close to my bedroom. She wouldn't just open the door, would she? "Are you two still in bed?" She asked, as the handle on my door began turning.
"Just a minute!" I yelled, hastily scrambling for my pants. I found Killian's shirt first and tossed it to him. Waiting until we were both fully dressed, I smoothed my hair back and casually opened the door. "What's up?"
Mary Margaret's eyes took a slow lap around my room, pausing on the rumpled sheets and my slightly breathless form. For once, she was tactful enough not to comment. "I just wanted to let you know we're back so we can head over to Hook's ship whenever you're ready."
"Let me just get changed and I'll be right down," I said, waiting for her to leave before closing the door. Turning back to Killian I asked, "Is there anything in particular you want, or should I just grab you some clothes?"
"You don't need to grab anything, love," he replied.
I smiled, a bit puzzled by his statement. "You can't possibly want to keep borrowing clothes from David."
He snorted. "Hardly. I just meant that I can gather my own things."
My smile vanished. "You're not going anywhere. You're still recovering, and didn't you hear what I just said about staying out of sight?"
"While it pleases me immensely to have your concern, darling, with all due respect, no one touches my things but me."
"Is that so?" I asked, stepping nearer to his personal space.
"Aye, love." He said seriously before his face broke into a stunning smile. His tongue traced his bottom lip as he ran his hand from my shoulder down along my side, curling it around my hip. "Of which you're included."
Mine. I remembered. I held back a delicious shiver, remembering back to when he made that declaration before fully claiming me. His smirk widened, flames returning to his shining eyes. Someone is certainly feeling better, I noted.
"Well then, Captain, I suppose we'd best be on our way." I eyed his very uncharacteristic attire and grinned. "Though, you might want to change first."
E&K&E&K&E&K
We arrived to the Jolly Roger ahead of my parents even though they'd left before us. They were dropping a load of boxes off to their new place before meeting us at the docks. I really wasn't sure why they felt it necessary to join us in the first place – Killian didn't have that many clothes – but with a look as unwavering as his moral compass, David made it plain that he intended to accompany us with or without a formal request.
"Someone's aboard my ship," Killian exclaimed with all the menace of his alter-ego as we approached the antiquated vessel. He quickened his steps, his body radiating the gathering of fury as I reached to grab his arm.
"Wait, you're not supposed to-"
It was a futile attempt. He was already halfway across the gangplank. I picked up my pace and hurried after him. Of all the hot-tempered, health-forsaking, brain-addling, ridiculous pirates!
The scene on deck was ripped from the pages of a mixed-up fairy-tale. Killian stood – hook at the ready – facing Leroy and his band of dwarves. "What's going on?" I asked, switching into my Sheriff's role.
"I'd bloody well like to know the same thing," Killian growled.
Leroy looked between us. "We're just here for the harp."
"What?" I stated; shifting my stance so that I was slightly between the dwarf and the angry pirate captain.
"Anton told us about the harp. How it can be used to put someone under a love enchantment," Leroy began. "It's obvious he's got you under some kind of spell," he pointed at Killian. I had to give Leroy credit; he didn't even waver under Killian's withering glare. Stepping over to me, he continued, "He's even got Snow wrapped around his finger! There's got to be some kind of magic involved."
If only he knew, I thought.
"I'll give you to the count of three to get the blazes off my ship before I handily remove you and your brethren myself." Killian threatened.
Looking back at Killian, I sent a silent message urging him to wait. He sighed audibly but stood back. "So your grand plan was to what…sneak aboard Captain Hook's ship, rifle through his things and hope he didn't notice?"
"He wasn't supposed to be here!" Doc chimed in. At least, I think it was Doc.
"Oh really?" Killian commented, his expression and posture adjusting to that of the rogue; a false sense of disinterest masking the sharp edge of his intellect. "And how's that?"
"You're supposed to be recovering," Doc continued. Leroy shushed him and waved his hand. Not at all subtle.
My eyes narrowed and I moved closer to Leroy. "Wait a minute; where were you yesterday when he was attacked?"
"Whoa, whoa! Now we had nothing to do with that, sister! We just want him to back off. He's bad news."
He was telling the truth, at least about not being involved with Killian's attack. I was beyond tired of justifying my feelings, though. "Listen. You don't have to like that we're together…I really don't give a crap…but you'd better get used to it. I am not under any kind of spell!" I looked back to Killian. Something like admiration shone in his eyes, which in turn softened my heart.
Mary Margaret and David stepped aboard just as I finished my tirade. "Leroy? What's going on?" Mary Margaret inquired.
"Seems the dwarves believe I've ensorcelled you and your lovely daughter by way of an enchanted harp." Killian replied as he tucked his thumb into his belt loop. An expression of smug irritation swept across his face. "It's absurd, really; as if I'd need more than my stunning looks and dashing personality to capture a maiden's heart."
"Laying it on a bit thick," I mentally commented.
"Sorry, love," his voice whispered in my mind. My eyes widened. I would never get used to that particular quirk of our bond.
My mother's face darkened, her eyes like lasers honed on Leroy and the dwarves. What Captain Hook had been unable to do, Snow White achieved in less than five seconds. Leroy cowered. "Is that true?"
"You've gotta see this from our perspective. Last we knew he was the villain who stole the magical bean that was going to save our town. Then you show up home from Neverland and its all happy family?"
"He came back!" Mary Margaret threw her arms up. "Not to mention everything I already told you about Neverland!"
"He saved my life," David added, his hands firmly planted on his hips.
"How do we know he didn't use it on you, too?" Leroy shouted.
"It doesn't work on men!" David responded emphatically before suddenly turning to Killian and lowering his voice; "Right, Hook?"
Killian rolled his eyes. "Excellent show of faith, mate."
Perhaps realizing his theory was quickly sinking, Leroy backpedalled. "Anton can't find it. He swears he always carries his most valued treasures with him."
Killian huffed and straightened to his full height. His eyes burned with indignation and somehow I knew whatever was going to come out of his mouth would be anything but polite. "Why would I have need of a magical harp, Master Dwarf, when I had you to enlighten me to the effectiveness of sensual 'text-ting?'"
I'd never seen a dwarf blush. Until now. He turned toward Mary Margaret, contrition painted on his face and palms in the air. "I was only joking!"
"Look. This has got to stop," David said, directing his statement to all seven dwarves. "Whatever his past crimes, Hook is not the villain anymore."
"So he can just break the law and get away with it?" Leroy exclaimed, clearly not willing to let it go; at least not yet.
"You do realize you're the ones breaking the law now, right? Breaking and entering…" I turned to Killian. "Do you want to press charges?"
A smirk tilted his lips as he pretended to give it lengthy consideration. "I've often been told a quiet respite in the brig can do wonders for one's repentance, but as it appears no real harm was done, I suppose I can be generous." His eyes imparted a silent message to Leroy. "After all, I admit I may have committed several…transgressions…in the past. If they are willing to overlook my faults, than so shall I."
"Thank you, Hook," Mary Margaret said before eyeing Leroy and the dwarves rather intently. Six out of seven muttered an apology almost immediately. "We aren't going to have any more trouble, are we?" She asked Leroy.
"Sorry, sister," he conceded, his tone a bit grumpy.
"It's not me you should be apologizing to."
With the slightest sulk, he nodded his head once toward Killian. "No hard feelings?"
"Apology accepted, mate." Killian sassed. His face retained that somewhat unimpressed appearance, but our bond was beginning to pound with his fatigue, more than I think even he realized.
I cleared my throat. "As touching as this conversation has been, we've got places to be." I wasn't going to call attention to Killian's injury – not in front of the dwarves – but we really did need to focus on our original task. It was bad enough that he came along in the first place; this little confrontation couldn't have helped his recovery.
I wordlessly looked to David and Mary Margaret, gesturing with a quick jerk of my head for them to escort the uninvited guests back to land. Killian watched the troop of dwarves exit before heading below deck. I followed him to his cabin in silence, trying to keep the memories of what had happened in the small room just two nights ago in check. Now was not the time. Everything from his tense movements to the barely-restrained emotions in our connection broadcast his total annoyance at the situation as he surveyed his belongings. And I got it. The Jolly Roger was his home. It had been his only haven for three centuries. Having virtual strangers trespassing in his personal space must've been akin to an invasive medical exam; which he'd unfortunately also had to endure recently.
"One of those cretins sneezed all over my maps! I won't be able to tell if I'm looking at an island or the contents of his bulbous nose!" He complained, holding said map between his thumb and fingers.
I approached him from behind and rubbed my hands up his back then over his shoulders in a circular path. "Hey. I know you're mad; you have every right to be. But it could've been worse."
"Oh? And how's that?"
I pressed my front against his back and tucked my cheek against his shoulder blade, letting my hands wind around to his chest. "If you hadn't got your head knocked around we could have been doing that 'helm' thing when they got here."
His hand closed over one of mine and he turned so I somehow ended up in his embrace. "Is that right, Swan?" He nipped at my lips. "And tell me, in this fantasy of yours, do I successfully steer us to our heading?" He pulled me tightly to his body and flexed his hips, making me aware of his growing interest in our current topic of conversation.
"As if you need to ask," I grinned, secretly pleased at his insatiable libido and my success in distracting him from his anger. Gently, I ran my fingers through his thick hair – more to soothe than to inspire – but was halted as my eyes noticed a scrap of red fabric peeking out from beneath Killian's bed. Crouching down, I pulled it out to examine in the light.
"What is that?" Killian's voice was saturated with unease, and no small wonder.
Holding Smee's red stocking cap tightly in my fist, I replied. "It was under your bed. I didn't see it there the other night."
"Nor I." He concurred. Any levity I had gained with my flirtations sank underneath his sudden anger. "That scheming little rat! What the bloody hell was he doing aboard my ship?"
I winced in sympathy at his booming tone, imagining it would not be helpful to his concussion. "Killian," I soothed, "please calm down." Apparently it was the wrong thing to say.
"I will not be calm about this, love. You've no idea the lengths that man will go to get what he wants. And to think he was here, on my ship, where you and I…" he cut himself off, a hand going to his head. His chest rose quickly as he dragged in air. I felt his anger, definitely, but the driving force behind his reaction was fear. My brave, pirate-turned-hero was worried about me.
I approached him wordlessly, once again laying my palm against his broad back. "We don't know what he was doing here. That's not a comforting thought, I get that, but it seems to me he got interrupted." I held the hat up again as evidence. "He wouldn't have left this behind on purpose, right?"
"I suppose not," Killian replied, the anger leeching from his voice to be replaced with genuine weariness.
I nodded firmly. "Which means he made a mistake. We might not know what exactly he's up to, but we can assume that he's after something to do with you, at least for now."
"As crafty as he is – and it pains me to admit that – I don't envision him the sort to start collecting hearts."
"No. You're right. But this isn't a coincidence." The criminal justice part of my brain was already trying to string together all the clues we'd amassed into some sensible order. Only an hour or so ago, I'd believed whoever attacked Killian was the same who had tried to take his heart. But with the possible emergence of a past adversary in Smee, I had to allow there might be multiple players involved. It seemed the dwarves did have an issue with Killian, but were not responsible for yesterday. Yet they'd been on the ship at the same time we found evidence of another intruder. How was it possible they hadn't seen anything? And furthermore, I had to consider that just because we found Smee's hat did not mean he, himself, dropped it.
Killian appeared in my periphery. He tilted his head so that our eyes met. "The thoughts are flying across your face, love. Care to enlighten me?"
"I was just thinking that we keep getting new clues, but they're not doing much to lead us to what's going on. It seems too much of a coincidence for Smee to turn back up – or at least someone is making us think he did – without him being involved in your attack. But as you said, it's unlikely he was the one who caused your bruises."
He hummed once in agreement as he retrieved a large satchel from his wardrobe. "You're thinking this was a team effort," he concluded rather efficiently. His eyes met mine seriously. "I do have a fair bit of experience in the revenge business, love."
Right. "Do you notice anything else out of place?"
"No. Nothing is missing, either." His gaze swept the small room before settling back on my face. "There's nothing more for us to learn here. Shall we return to your apartment?"
I helped Killian gather a few of his belongings and the bulk of his clothes before he secured the lower decks with several padlocks. Mary Margaret and David were waiting near their truck when we stepped over the gangplank and followed the short pier to the parking lot. There was no trace of the dwarves or anyone else for that matter.
"Leroy asked us to apologize again on his behalf. There was some talk of him owing you a beer the next time we're all at Granny's," Mary Margaret stated.
"How thoughtful of him," Killian remarked as he settled his bag in the back of my Beetle.
I scanned the open lot cautiously before looking to David. "Did you see anyone else around aside from the dwarves?"
"No one," he answered. "Why, did you find something?"
I showed him the hat. "It seems we may have another suspect for our list."
David's eyes narrowed before he, too checked the area. "Come on. Let's get you both home." He waited until Killian and I were both buckled in my car before he and Mary Margaret settled in their truck and followed us back to the apartment. The ride home was silent. I think both of us were jointly processing everything that had occurred while keeping an eye on our surroundings.
Stepping into the apartment, it was obvious to me that the weight of our midday encounter had visibly taken a toll on Killian, though he'd be too proud to admit it. For someone just getting over a concussion he was doing remarkably well – swearing he had no further symptoms – though I had woken him frequently during the night. It was no wonder he was exhausted. I was too, for that matter, but I had further work to do before I would rest.
"You should go lie down for awhile." He started to protest and I raised my hand. "I know you're feeling better, but you are still recovering. Besides, there's not a hell of a lot we can do at the moment. Please, Killian; for me?"
His rigid stance deflated as he sighed. "What about you, love? You hardly slept last night."
"I'm okay. If I get too tired I'll come lay down with you," I promised. It wasn't technically a lie. He stared at me long and hard. I could almost detect his side of the connection probing against mine, seeking the truth, or the very least what I was hiding. I focused on projecting assurance both in my expression and in my mind. It wasn't that I wanted to trick him; I just knew he would never stay back if he suspected what I was planning to do. And while we did make an excellent team most of the time, he was too irrational when it came to dealing with his former nemesis. Noticing he still hadn't budged, I laughed. "I'm just going to help Mary Margaret and David load some of their stuff into their truck. I wouldn't let you help with that anyways, at least not today, so you may as well listen to me."
"Alright, love. If you insist." He popped the 't' in that teasing way of his.
"I do," I affirmed. "We'll check on you in a little while."
"Yes, mum." If he were aware of the custom of sticking out one's tongue, I suspected he would've done it in that moment. Instead, he stepped into my space and gently clasped the back of my head in his hand, bringing our lips together in a lingering kiss. "Something to inspire my dreams," he winked before heading up the stairs and into the bedroom.
I actually did carry several boxes down the stairs, lending some accuracy to what I'd told Killian, but after about twenty minutes I made my excuses to Mary Margaret and David before setting off to find the one person to which all my inner theorizing kept leading back to: Gold.
The bell above the pawn shop door rang merrily as I stepped across the threshold. My eyes immediately found Gold fiddling with some of his collected oddities behind the main counter. "Ah. Sheriff Swan. To what do I owe the great pleasure?"
I smoothed some of my hair away from my face as I approached him. "I'm surprised you're here; figured you'd spend the weekend with Belle," I remarked.
"Money doesn't care what day it is, Dearie," he responded as he set a crystal orb onto a stand within the glass case. "But I doubt you're here to discuss the economy."
"I'm here about Hook's accident," I stated bluntly. No use beating around the bush.
He smiled with false sincerity. "Ah yes; I was sorry to hear about our dear Captain's unfortunate accident."
"Were you," I commented, waiting to see how much more of a lie I could catch him in. My brow arched toward the ceiling.
"You're not suggesting I was involved?" He paused, his expression bordering on condescension. "If I wanted the pirate dead, he would be." Truth. "Might I suggest that your new beau has made a fair few enemies in this town, some with far less…flair than I?"
I pulled the red hat out of my coat pocket and set it on the counter in front of Gold. "What can you tell me about this?"
"A crocheted cap. How mysterious," he flared his eyes.
"It belongs to Smee. He's been missing since before we left for Neverland. You were one of the last people seen with him."
"Was I?" He tilted his head ever so slightly. "How very interesting. Last I was aware he was being a bit of a pest toward Belle. I've no idea where he is now." His statement was the kind of truth chased by a shade of bitterness. Killian called him a crocodile; I preferred eel. He was certainly slippery enough.
"I found this on the Jolly Roger. It wasn't there yesterday."
"Well, there you have it! It seems you've got your suspect. I'll be sure to let you know if I come across the unfortunate fellow."
"Not good enough."
He assessed me seriously, his brown eyes cool and calculating. "What is it you want from me exactly?"
I wanted him to explain the bruises on Killian's chest. I wanted him to admit he tried to take his heart, and then tell me why. But until I knew for sure how he was involved, I was reluctant to fully tip my hand. "I want the truth. You know something," I accused.
"As I said; there are plenty of people who wouldn't mind seeing the pirate six feet under, and not knowing about your…bond, well, that would be positively tragic. You should have been more careful who you hitched yourself to."
A block of ice lodged itself in my heart, creeping slowly through my veins.
Perhaps noticing the effect his words were having, he hit one final mark. "Do be more vigilant, Sheriff. The pirate, too for that matter. It would be an absolute shame if your boy lost his mother…again."
"Is that a threat?" I asked through gritted teeth.
"Now why would I threaten you – the mother of my grandchild?" He retorted, a bit exasperated. That innocent little smile which I'd always found to be more sinister than pleasing settled on his lips.
Our eyes locked in silent challenge. For my part, I was never sure to what depravity Gold would allow his magic to drive him. He was anything but the stereotypical grandfather, and his Storybrooke persona did almost too good of a job hiding his dark interior. I also hadn't fully pieced together what would motivate him to take Killian's heart, if in fact he was involved. Aside from pressuring me to be honest with Neal, he'd been oddly interested in seeing my bond with Killian succeed. That alone had been enough to rouse my suspicion, but the why of it all was still annoyingly elusive.
My cell sounded from my back pocket. I answered it without looking. "Emma?" Killian's voice sounded strange.
"Killian?"
There was a bit of a pause on the other end which did nothing to ease the anxiety Gold had already stirred. Just as I was about to say hello again, he spoke louder, "Can you hear me, love?"
"Yeah, what's wrong?" I shifted the phone to my other ear and stepped toward the front window of the shop, as far from Gold as possible without actually leaving.
"I wanted to ask you the same thing. Are you alright?"
Noticing Gold's interest, I lowered my voice to a whisper. "I'm fine."
"You were frightened," Killian stressed.
"You felt that?"
"It woke me…And you were gone." I could hardly ignore the hurt and disappointment in his tone.
"I had some Sheriff business to deal with."
He sighed, the sound seemingly amplified by the technology between us. "Where are you?"
I considered stretching the truth again, knowing he wouldn't be pleased to know I'd come here without him and even less so that I hadn't even told him about it. But there was no way of talking around it. He'd know it was an outright lie if I claimed to be somewhere I wasn't. My earlier decision had been born from wanting to protect him. Lying now would be an outright betrayal. "Gold's shop."
The silence returned, only this time I could guess why. "I see," he finally commented. His voice lacked any emotion, which was almost as telling as if he'd shouted. "Are you alright?" He repeated.
"Yes." I closed my eyes and my hand moved to cover my heart. His outpouring of concern nearly chased away the unease I'd felt.
"Is it a productive meeting?"
I considered what I'd learned since walking into the shop. While I didn't have any tangible evidence, my superpower was fairly certain Gold was somehow involved. "Yes and no. I can't really say."
His voice was a bit strained when he spoke again. "I should be there with you."
"Killian…" I sighed. "I'm sorry, it's just…we'll talk about it when I get home." The 'please' was heavily implied in my tone.
"Aye, love," he agreed. "We will." There was a slight shuffling across the line before the call was disconnected. Apparently, I needed to teach him about saying goodbye before hanging up.
"Problem, Dearie?" Gold asked. Turning back, I noticed Belle had joined him.
I offered her a tight smile before answering him. "Everything's fine."
"Rumpel told me about Hook's attack. I hope he'll be alright?" Belle asked with genuine care. For the hundredth time, I wondered how someone as sweet and accepting as Belle found her match in the Dark One.
"Uh yeah…he's fine."
"Good. I hope you catch the one who hurt him."
"Thanks," I said.
Belle's eyes noticed Smee's cap. She picked it up, frowning deeply as if it had bitten her. "Where did this come from?"
Rumpel's hand closed over Belle's, gently taking the hat from her and handing it over to me. "You needn't worry over him. He'll never get near you again." She turned to him and all the worry on her face melted away. I had wondered over their unique relationship only moments ago, but here was a very visible reminder of just how much she loved him. Watching him handle her – his fingertips gentle on her skin, the softness in his eyes, and the genuine lift of a smile – it was clear as glass that he loved her, too. Desperately so.
"If that's all, Sheriff?" Gold asked, effectively dismissing me.
"For now. You'll be sure to let me know if you hear anything?"
"Of course," he grinned again. Not liking the way his eyes flickered to my chest then back to my face, I returned the favor with my own closed-lip smile. Neither reached our eyes.
Heading toward the door, I was surprised to find Belle just a step behind. "I'm off to the library. Are you headed that way?" I wasn't – not really – but I agreed to join her to see what else she might tell me about her significant other. We walked in awkward silence at first before she settled on small talk. "So what did you think of Lumiere's?"
My steps faltered slightly, not prepared to be reminded of that night. "Oh. It's nice?" It really shouldn't have sounded like a question, but aside from the décor, I didn't have much to comment on.
She laughed. "It's alright. Honestly, I was a bit surprised that he brought you there."
I smiled, whole-heartedly agreeing. "Not really our scene." I felt myself relax a bit in Belle's comforting presence. I was only partly familiar with her real story, but what I did know of it was riddled with tragedy. Yet despite everything, she maintained an optimism that exceeded even my mother's.
"I really am happy for you both. Pardon me if I'm being too forward, but I think it's wonderful that you found each other at last."
She touched on something I'd wondered about for awhile. Belle was by nature an extremely forgiving person, but forgiving someone and blessing them were entirely different things. "You're very generous, given your past with Hook."
"I've just never seen the use in dwelling on the past. Granted, I don't know him well, but from our previous encounters it seemed clear that Hook was unhappy. Like Rumpel, he didn't make the best choices, but that doesn't make him bad. There is good in everyone if only you are willing to look for it. Willing to fight for it. And now that Hook's found his happiness, it's easy for his goodness to shine."
We reached the library entrance just as she finished speaking. Her words struck a deep chord in me, and I truly felt like I finally understood Belle. Finally understood her unusual relationship with Gold, and I was glad for her...for both of them. "Thank you," I said softly.
"I'll talk to Rumpel again later; see if there isn't anything else I can find out about Hook's attack." I smiled and nodded before heading back toward the apartment.
My thoughts were swimming with the trail of clues and suspects, as well as what Belle had said about love and happiness. But no matter how I tried to wade through them, all my thoughts kept coming back to Killian's heart. I had restarted his heart in the Dark Hollow, and then bound it to mine in order to save his life. Someone – my money was on Gold – wanted to take it, but had failed. No matter what Killian said about the person just getting interrupted, I believed my magic had fundamentally changed him. I just wasn't sure how.
An idea took root; just a fragile seed that wasn't quite ready to fully sprout. Not without a clearer path. Considering everything that I'd learned and all that remained a mystery, it seemed I should be working toward establishing a plausible motive – one that involved possessing a heart – in order to sow the final conclusion. Making a split second decision, I changed the course of my footsteps and headed toward the home of the one person in Storybrooke who knew more about the reasons for taking a heart than possibly anyone save Rumpelstiltskin himself.
A/N: I hope you enjoyed the read! I've never fancied myself much of a mystery writer, but I promise I've put A LOT of thought into which clues to leave when. Additionally, I just wanted to comment that I've never been one to frivolously write adult situations. If they're in my story, they are they to move the plot or character development along in some way. Sure, they may be a bit more…intimate…than they need to be, but this is Emma and Hook we're talking about. (And as they are a new couple, things get a little intense at times.)
Review? Theory? (Thanks in advance!)