A/N: Once again, I apologize for the delay. For me, writing is definitely a labor of love – sometimes more labor than love (as is the case with this chapter.) If you recall, we left off with Killian and Emma discovering a very confused Smee lurking in the cannery. Just what does Mr. Smee know, I wonder?

Huge thanks to Yettoseeyoufail for your unwavering support!

Chapter 19

Gathering Force

The recognizable clicking of metal cuffs locking into place was a sound I'd grown far too used to over the past decade, though the feeling it inspired depended on the application. When used on one of my marks, the sound was accompanied by the sweet taste of vindication. When used on me, it just pissed me off. Neither emotion suited our current situation. Too much uncertainty lingered. "There we go. These should keep you nice and comfortable while you decide on your story," David said as he tucked a key away in his pocket and stepped away from the smaller man.

"They're a bit tight," Smee groused as he twisted his wrists, both of which were now secured to either arm of my desk chair.

"Perhaps we'll loosen your bonds when you decide to loosen your tongue," Killian muttered, his eyes fixed firmly on his hook while his thumb pricked over the tip, inspecting its sharpness.

His little display did not go unnoticed by our suspect. David and I may have been the ones with badges, but Killian commanded Smee's full attention. Killian's demeanor had advertised 'pissed off and lethal' loud and clear from the moment we found Smee in the cannery. He'd managed to remain somewhat calm until Mary Margaret drove off with Henry, but his inner emotions were nearly biting with agitation, and his remarks and physical taunts had only grown more cutting as the minutes passed. While I had a hard time taking his threats seriously, I had to wonder what bouts of violence his one-time shipmate had witnessed at the hand of his captain. Smee watched Killian like a frightened animal awaiting his demise; a foreboding sense of dread casting a sheen of sweat upon his forehead.

"I think you're scaring him," I commented lightly to Killian's mind. "Maybe tone down the old persona just a tad?"

Killian's eyes swept to mine, his usual expressive blue somewhat shuttered by his extreme irritation. "At the moment, it is not a persona. This is who I am to him…to anyone who would threaten you or anyone I care for."

I bit down on my lower lip to keep my sudden urge to smile at bay, strangely pleased by his protectiveness. Apparently, being in love with him negated my usual aversion to male posturing. "We don't know how he's involved in any of this. Innocent until proven guilty," I thought, but I knew he'd pick up on my hint of approval despite my words.

Oblivious to the silent conversation surrounding him, David loomed over the seated man, leveling him with a heavy stare before speaking; "So Mr. Smee, do you know why we've brought you in?"

Keeping his focus on Killian, Smee answered, "I can only assume you're seeking information." He tested the handcuffs again before finally dragging his gaze to David. "Though I don't know why you felt the need to shackle me. Do you think I've committed some sort of crime?"

"Come, come, Mr. Smee; coyness has never suited you," Killian jeered, his voice positively drenched with sarcasm. He crossed his arms over his chest, making sure the shiny metal was still prominently displayed. "Best not to try our patience."

"Why were you following us this morning?" I asked, beyond ready to cut to the chase.

Smee shifted his attention to me slowly, allowing a lengthy pause to pass before answering. "It's like I already said; I was hoping to speak with the Captain, but when I saw him with you, I wasn't sure how best to proceed. You weren't on the friendliest terms as I recall." Noting Killian's defensive stance by my side he added, "Seems quite a lot has changed."

I felt my lips turn up in a version of a smile, though anyone who knew me also knew I was anything but pleased. My voice was quiet and deliberate as I addressed him; "You expect us to believe you don't remember anything since before we left for Neverland?"

His face scrunched. "I remember being a rat."

Killian scoffed. Loudly. "Try again, mate."

Smee's gaze swung to his captain. Swallowing thickly and tilting his chin up by several notches he spat, "He cursed me! The Dark One. And he took my hat."

"You mean this one?" Killian taunted, producing the familiar red cap from one of the inner pockets of his coat. "And just how the blazes did it end up in my quarters?"

Smee looked truly puzzled. His eyes squinted in deep concentration. "I…I…don't remember."

"He doesn't remember," Killian mocked, his eyes rolling toward the ceiling.

"Well you've got our attention now. So what was it you wanted to speak to him about?" I asked, nodding toward Killian.

Smee licked his lips nervously. "I was hoping you had some information about what was going on? One moment I'm a rat, the next I'm standing in the middle of the docks without any idea of how I got there."

David hummed lightly. "And when was that exactly?" He stepped nearer to Smee. "You were found at an active crime scene, not the docks."

"Dave's caught on to something. His story doesn't align with the few facts we know," Killian silently mused. "Perhaps a little more…encouragement is warranted?"

I felt the air by my side shift as Killian made to move forward. "Wait," I cautioned, "Let me try a different angle." Approaching Smee somewhat leisurely, I dragged a second chair over and sat with my elbows braced against my knees. Softening my expression I started, "You're right. You're here because we do need information." I glanced back at Killian and my father. David caught on immediately to my tactic. Killian? He looked and felt wary, but at the same time I sensed his underlying faith in me.

Smee straightened in his chair. "I'm not sure how much help I can be, but I'll tell you whatever I know."

I smiled tightly. "Great. That's really great." I cleared my throat. "Someone recently attacked Hook very near to where we found you."

Smee's eyes widened. At the same time, Killian cursed in his thoughts. "Is it really wise to reveal your hand?"

"Haven't you heard the expression give him some rope and let him hang himself? Trust me." I urged.

"And you suspect me?" Smee cried incredulously.

"It is quite a coincidence," David remarked. "And given how little you seem to remember, it's a natural conclusion you're involved."

"I couldn't be….could I?" Smee looked at the three of us in turn. The wheels turning feverishly in his brain were painfully visible across his features. That feeling I got when we first picked him up returned, that he really was clueless. I peered over at Killian, taking in the sharpness of his eyes as he studied Smee's every reaction. "Well? You know him best. What's your take?" I asked silently.

He met my gaze briefly, but before he could answer we were interrupted by the sudden arrival of Tinker Bell pushing through the door, two small vials clutched in her hand. "I've got it," she called out a bit breathlessly, her face a flush of enthusiasm and eagerness. Her steps halted abruptly as she noted our interrogation. "You!" She exclaimed, her delicate features quickly transformed by her recognition of Smee.

"It's nice to see you, too," Smee commented wryly before confusion clouded his face once more. "Though, I must say it's surprising to see you here."

"I wish I could say the same," she muttered. Her eyes narrowed. I wonder what that's all about? I mused.

"Don't ask, love," Killian replied. I hadn't realized I'd shared that particular thought with him.

Tink lifted her face in the universal symbol of an affronted woman. "Well, I guess this is no longer needed," she said as she indicated the potions in her hand.

Standing and pushing my chair aside I asked, "What's with the second one?"

Tink looked to her hand as if suddenly remembering the additional vial. "Oh, this one is for the prince." She held it out to David. "It's the antidote to the Dreamshade. Rumpelstiltskin finished it earlier today, and Belle sent it along with the tracking potion."

David accepted the vial with the slightest trace of apprehension. Given all our swirling suspicions surrounding its maker I could hardly blame him. But then, what choice did he really have? He met my gaze with the steely resolve Prince Charming was known for. "Bottoms up," he saluted then tipped the contents into his mouth. His face wrinkled in disgust. Holding his hands before him, he waited for several counts for any further reactions before sighing loudly and nodding once. "I guess that's that."

My brow arched. "Shouldn't you have waited to try that when Mary Margaret was around?"

"That's precisely why I did it now," he replied calmly as he set the vial on the desk.

"It's as if he learned nothing in Neverland!" I mentally chastised.

"Can't blame a man for wanting to protect those he loves," Killian commented softly.

I shook my head, choosing to let the remark slide. "How do you know it even worked?"

David shrugged. "I guess I'll just have to wait and see. But I do feel better…more like myself."

A small pang of pained jealousy swept across my bond with Killian, though it was gone just as quickly as it appeared. I didn't even need to guess to know what or rather who he was thinking about. Had the antidote existed when his brother was cursed, his life would have been very different.

But then he wouldn't be here with you.

"I suppose I owe you my thanks once more," David spoke to Killian.

"Oh? And how's that, mate?" Killian inquired.

David grinned, enjoying some sort of private irony. "If you hadn't tried to poison Gold with Dreamshade, he would never have been motivated to find a cure."

Killian matched David's smirk, the strange tension of the entire situation momentarily halted in light of one of fate's more interesting jokes. "Happy to oblige."

Tink moved to stand beside me, gesturing toward Smee. "What shall we do with him, then?"

"He claims ignorance to the entire episode," Killian growled, all the lightness from just a moment ago stripped from his countenance.

"Ignorance? As in not involved? I find that hard to believe," Tink commented.

I stared long and hard at Smee. He'd remained quiet throughout the entire exchange between Killian, Tink and David. The nervousness had cleared from his eyes, replaced by exhaustion and an almost sad resolution. I'd detained enough truly guilty people in the past to predict patterns of behavior. Not to mention my penchant for detecting liars. Smee was undoubtedly involved, but he honestly had no memory of how. "He doesn't remember," I stated.

Something in his expression shifted and a slight trembling played around his mouth. "You believe me?" He said, astonishment prevailing in his tone. Relief washed his features. "Truly you are as merciful as you are beautiful."

Killian's carefully controlled anger pulled against its leash. His thoughts projected an image of his hook pressed against Smee's windpipe. The sudden flash of danger sent an inexplicable thrill coiling in my stomach. I blinked slowly and bit down on my lip again as Killian stepped directly behind me, the heat of his jealousy a welcome presence against my back.

Cocking my head to the side, I graced Smee with another of my patented smiles, this one almost pitying. "I believe that you don't remember. That doesn't make you innocent."

"You could try a revival spell," Tink suggested. "I've seen them work to restore memories in the past."

"What does that involve?" David asked.

"Emma needs to channel her magic into his mind and push past whatever barrier is preventing the memories to surface," she explained. Her blue eyes met mine with optimism. "Just place your palms on either side of his head."

"Not bloody likely," Killian interjected gruffly. "She'll not have any contact with him."

I glanced at him curiously. "You can't seriously be jealous?" I thought.

His tongue prodded his cheek as he scratched behind his ear before motioning to Smee. Voice strained, he remarked aloud, "Clearly he's under some sort of enchantment. There's no telling what effects Smee has suffered let alone what might transfer to someone else."

Despite his attempt to explain his reaction, Killian's thoughts revealed his baser nature. I saw myself slung into his arms as he crossed the gangplank of the Jolly Roger and commandeered me to the captain's quarters, warning off his crew from any interruptions with his trademark glare. In his imagining, I was garbed in a ridiculously low-cut corset, my hair loose and tumbling over my shoulders and an exaggerated come-hither expression on my face. While not thinking any particular words, a distinctive feeling of underlying possessiveness transferred across our link. He may have been genuinely worried about my safety, but he also hated the idea of me touching another man, no matter the reason.

"So that's what you fantasize about?" I teased.

His eyes flickered to mine. "You weren't meant to see that, love."

"Well, I have my helm so why not have your bar wench? My brow arched. "But now is not the time. Later, maybe?"

The lines of tension around his eyes eased minutely as his lips twitched into a slight smirk. "Aye. Later."

"Is it dangerous for her to try?" David directed to Tink, effectively ending my tangent and routing my thoughts back on track.

"It shouldn't be," she replied. Facing me she continued, "You'll just need to focus your magic outward, push into his mind as if reading a book."

"I'm not sure I like the sound of this," Smee commented.

"And when did we solicit your opinion on the matter?" Killian snapped. "You've already agreed to help in any way we deem necessary. Isn't that right?"

I placed my hand on Killian's left arm, silently pushing his hook down before stepping closer to Smee. His attention vacillated between my face and the pirate behind my shoulder, and frankly, it was starting to piss me off. Killian may be his captain – respect for him was no doubt ingrained at this point – but I was no wilting flower. Channeling my energy to the center of my palm, I felt the telltale warmth of my magic contained in a shimmering, white sphere. The ease at which it followed my command was momentarily astounding, but then, I'd been inadvertently practicing all week.

Smee's eyes filled with panic as they trained on the power in my hand, Captain Hook seemingly forgotten. His face turned ashen and he struggled against his bonds once more. "P-please, I told you everything I know."

"Exactly. Everything you know. But we need more." I reached out toward Smee, pausing as he flinched as far from me as possible. "I'm not going to hurt you," I soothed. At least, I didn't think I was. "Don't move."

"Be careful, Swan," Killian urged. His mind struggled to keep his arm from pulling me back.

Tentatively, I covered Smee's temples with my hands and closed my eyes. Clearing my mind was easier said than done given my acute awareness of Killian, but after a moment, I felt my thoughts sweep to the side of my conscience while my magic probed the memories within my grasp. Smee's thoughts came to me as easily as flipping the channels on the television, but I had no idea what I was looking for. Through his eyes, I saw myself framed by fading sunlight in the door of the cannery, Killian a dark shadow behind me. I could smell the musty dampness of his sleeping bag and the acrid tang of chemicals and smoke filling my nostrils, though confusion prevented me from understanding the why and how of my whereabouts. Several other innocuous images flashed: rifling through the dumpster outside of Granny's; a thundering heartbeat as my feet slapped against the pavement, running through a sleepy neighborhood; the light of a lamp glinting off Killian's hook.

I concentrated on one particular glimpse – a two-by-four propped against a brick wall – pushing against the seams of Smee's memory for some sort of explanation, but I encountered a vast nothingness. Where the image had been sharp and clear one second, the next it was distorted into jagged lines before being engulfed by blackness. Choosing a different thread, this time returning to the strange smell Smee remembered in the cannery, I again tried to expand the view, but was met with the same juxtaposition. Not only had someone tampered with his memory; they'd completely removed key details.

I exhaled sharply and let my arms drop. A wave of exhaustion stole across my senses. "His memory's been wiped," I confirmed. "At least anything recent."

"Are you absolutely certain?" Killian questioned, his mounting frustration evident across his face and within his tone. Narrowing his eyes at Smee he continued, "He always was a crafty liar."

"A trait which you valued at one point, if I'm not mistaken," Smee countered. Shifting in his chair, he met Killian's eyes with a bit of hesitance. "You must know that if I had anything useful to share I would, Captain. My allegiance still lies with you."

Studying Smee's face as he spoke, I noticed a misplaced sense of relief gliding across his expression. For someone still cuffed to a chair with several distrusting interrogators still nearby, he was a bit quick to grasp any bit of reprieve. My built-in bullshit alarm began chiming. "There was one thing," I started. "Just a quick flash that had me wondering…"

Smee's features tightened. "What was it?"

"You remembered something about a large piece of wood. It was a memory all by itself. Seems strange."

He shrugged, his gaze drifting across the floor. "I have no idea what that was."

A tight coil of intuition settled in my stomach. Killian stiffened in reaction. Glaring at Smee I stated, "You're lying. You do know something."

Smee fidgeted again as an expression of practiced ignorance settled on his features. "I don't know what you mean. You said yourself that my memory was erased."

"No. I said anything recent…" I let my stare harden as I waited for Smee's tell to reveal itself. "But you were returned to your human state quite a few days ago. If I had to guess, I'd say it was around the same time the cannery was first vandalized." My thoughts pinpointed on clues David had mentioned somewhat in passing: broken bottles and a fire in a trash can.

Seeing my suspicions, Killian stepped closer to the increasingly uncomfortable man, his look predatory. "Just how did you break that curse?"

Smee gulped. "I don't remember."

"Lie," I replied. A hint of a smile appeared on my lips, one born from pity rather than pleasure. "You had help, didn't you?"

Smee opened his mouth to speak, but just as his mouth formed the word, his voice strangled into silence. Naked panic caused his eyes to slightly bulge in his too-round face as his throat strained to make a sound. He thrashed in his seat before gulping in air.

"What the bloody hell is going on?" Killian growled while watching Smee's torment.

"Is he choking?" David asked.

"On what?" I remarked. "No. This is something else." Focusing back on Smee I demanded, "Who are you working for?" Once more, Smee tried to reply, but whatever had taken hold of his memories had seemingly done such a thorough job that even attempting to access the information was blocked. I exhaled loudly. "It's no use. Whoever did this to him must've expected him to be caught. There's nothing more I can do."

"Perhaps if you joined your magic?" Tink suggested, glancing hopefully between Killian and me. "Emma's alone may not have been strong enough, but together you might be able to see more of the memories?"

"What do you mean…join their magic?" David asked. He looked at Killian with genuine disbelief. "You've got magic now, too?"

Killian scratched behind his ear again before making a vague gesture with his hand. "Surprise?"

"It's part of the bond," I muttered quickly, not wanting to share too many details given our current audience.

David hesitated before nodding stiffly. Mumbling under his breath, I could just make out him saying, "This should be interesting."

"If only he knew, eh love?" Killian thought before offering me his open hand. "Shall we give it a go, then?"

Tinker Bell smiled with encouragement. "Just link your power and do the exact same thing you did before."

I tried not to let doubt reign. Honestly, hadn't I witnessed enough feats of the fantastical to at least give it a try? Killian had healed me with his magic, after all. Searching his open expression and his feelings, I was greeted with the same support and conviction Killian always showed me. Even when I didn't believe in myself, he somehow did. Unfailingly. With only a hint of reservation, I placed my palm in his.

A low thrum spread down my arm, radiating from our point of contact. His magic felt familiar, yet foreign all at the same time. I sensed my own white magic surrounding a core that was uniquely him, growing stronger with every passing second and filling a part of me I didn't realize was empty. "Are you doing that?" I questioned.

"I'm not sure; I've no idea what I'm supposed to do," he answered honestly.

"Well, whatever it is, I think it's working."

I lifted my free hand toward Smee, ignoring the terror-stricken look on his face. Touching his temple, I forced myself not to flinch away from the feeling of his damp hair and sweaty skin. I closed my eyes, preparing to enter his thoughts again, but was stopped by Killian tugging my hand.

"Last time you had to encase his worthless head between both your lovely hands," Killian said.

I quirked my brow. "That's where you come in." Obviously.

He smirked before lifting his hook. I mentally kicked myself as flames of embarrassment licked at my cheeks. How had I forgotten? Maybe because he's able to satisfy you better than any man with two hands ever has?

"I'm flattered, Swan. Truly."

"You would be." I had to get better at controlling my thoughts around him. Rolling my eyes, I let go of his hand, but as soon as the connection broke, so did the flow of his magic. Looking between him and Tinker Bell I questioned; "Any bright ideas?"

Killian stepped behind me and wrapped his arm around my waist. He slipped his hand beneath my shirt, laying it gently over my bare skin, and that warm current reappeared. His voice was a whisper in my ear; "Will this work, love?"

"I think so," I answered, my own voice shakier than it should've been.

David cleared his throat but didn't offer a comment. At this point, what could he really say?

I took Smee's head between my hands and closed my eyes. His thoughts came quickly, racing to the surface as if drawn by a magnet. Apparently, the boost in power from Killian did make a big difference. I focused once more on the image of the wooden beam, pushing against the altered edges. The frayed strands of the missing memory twisted and tangled, trying to refit into a recognizable form. I saw a thick-fingered hand grab the two-by-four and lift it into the air. "Are you seeing this?" I asked Killian.

"Aye." The gravel in his voice was joined by his renewed fury. Distantly, I felt his fingertips dig into my skin.

The beam swung in an arc before connecting with a head full of dark hair. The image of Killian falling to the ground – eyes closed and face slackened – touched my heart painfully, but also validated my suspicions. Smee was the one to attack Killian. But why?

I dropped my hands and leaned back against my pirate, sensing the tightness of his frame as he struggled to contain his anger. "Why?" I asked Smee. Such a simple word, but filled with heavy implications.

Smee whimpered. "I don't know. I don't know. I swear! I don't remember any of that."

Killian stepped to my side, keeping his hand anchored on my hip even as he leaned toward the increasingly agitated man. "And my heart? Of what use could that be to one such as you?"

"It's of no use to him," I answered. "That wasn't your purpose though, was it?"

Smee gulped, his face starting to turn red again. "You'll just have to look for yourself," he murmured as he bowed his head.

Killian's fingers flexed against my side. "He's given up," he commented. "Perhaps he has been telling the truth all along?"

"You can tell that by his giving in?"

"I've known this man for centuries. Never has he conceded unless there really was no other course." Killian shifted so that his front pressed along my back once more. His fingers crept beneath the hem of my shirt, lightly stroking along my lower abdomen before settling just below my navel. My breath caught as his lips brushed against the shell of my ear. "Try again, love."

I blinked slowly before reaching forward. For the third time I held Smee's mind within my power. Now that I knew what I was doing, it was pathetically easy to call the images I desired. However, no amount of magic could easily fill-in the holes of Smee's Swiss cheese-like memories. I prodded along the border of Killian's assault, trying to find a clue about who tried to take his heart. But had that happened before Killian was knocked out or after? Did Smee do it on behalf of someone else or for another reason entirely?

Wading further into his thoughts, I searched for other abnormalities, lingering over anything resembling the cannery. Smee remembered being puzzled over a particular smell, but not the cause of it. I focused our magic on an odd image of what looked like a view from a warehouse floor: dirt and debris covered a concrete slab only an inch or so from whatever perspective I was viewing the scene through. A bitter odor caused my nostrils to flare, but the scene darkened before I could make sense of it. I pushed against the dark curtain, willing it to reveal its secrets, only to be met with further wisps of nothingness.

My head started to throb as my pulse increased. "I can't get past it…If only we had more power," I thought.

Killian's soft lips grazed my ear again and a swell of that perfect hope and love I was swiftly associating with him soothed my rising tension. The memory in Smee's mind rippled, hazy images appearing within the shadows. "Do that again; harder this time," I directed to Killian.

"This is hardly the time or place, love…" he teased, his fingertips dancing across my sensitive skin again.

"Shh, it was working," I chided. "It made the magic stronger."

"Of course it did," he replied, a hint of the smug bastard I'd first met ripe in his tone. For once, I didn't mind.

I heard him mutter, "Sorry, Dave," before his mouth returned to my neck. He trailed kisses beneath my jaw before pressing his lips firmly to my cheek.

Whatever magic we'd harnessed between the two of us flared brightly, illuminating the shadowed memory like a sudden ray of sunlight. From this perspective, the cannery loomed overhead; the industrial lights swinging perilously from what seemed like a hundred feet above. A strange, viscous liquid coated me, or rather Smee, smelling of herbs and something sharper like astringent. Phantom pain distorted our shared vision before the ceiling was suddenly much closer. Smee held his two hands before him with extreme confusion. A sudden tapping sound from behind him drew his attention, but he tripped as he turned – unsteady in his returned human form. As he fell, he knocked into a nearby barrel and the scene darkened again.

Exhaustion descended upon me and I sagged against Killian, dropping my hands from Smee's head. For his part, Smee looked simultaneously wiped out and strangely on edge. I met his eyes knowingly. He'd seen what I had. As his memory came to a close, just before his body would've slammed against the concrete, he'd identified what had made the sudden sound: a manicured hand wrapped around an ornate, gold cane handle, tapping it impatiently.

"Emma, are you alright?" David asked.

I straightened from Killian's arms and turned. Tink and David wore matching expressions of anxious concern. Killian, on the other hand, was absolutely livid – his feelings pulsating like a giant raw nerve.

"I'll kill him," he threatened softly.

"Who?" Tink asked.

"Gold," I replied. "He's the cause of the mess in the cannery."

David sighed. "Why am I'm not surprised? I take it he also returned Mr. Smee's humanity?" I nodded, still trying to process the little I'd seen. "And he's behind Hook's attack?"

"We can only assume –" I started to say, but Killian cut me off.

"Of course he bloody well is. He's been trying to kill me for centuries."

"But that's just it," I started. Since the very moment Killian had been hurt, I'd blamed Gold. Something about his interest in our bond had never sat right with me; having it confirmed that he was somehow involved, even if only indirectly, was no big surprise. But it still didn't make any sense. As Killian pointed out, Gold could've killed him any number of times in the past, but he didn't. So why now? Why help me save his life only to take his heart a few days later? "Gold is involved. I don't think any of us are surprised by that. But why go through all this trouble? Why save your life one day just to kill you the next? Why turn Smee back into a man?"

"Does it matter?" Tink inquired. "He's the Dark One; there's no telling what he's up to."

"Exactly," I affirmed. "We're no better off now than we were before."

"Belle." Smee suddenly uttered. Our four pairs of eyes swung down on the restrained man.

"What about Belle?" David demanded.

"Those memories…I still don't know what all happened…but I remember something about Belle."

Killian and I held each others' gaze meaningfully before he spoke, "It was because of your attempt against Belle that you were cursed into a rat to begin with."

Smee bobbed his head. "That I do remember, Captain. But this was later…" He shrugged and twisted his wrists again.

"It's something," David suggested. "Maybe another visit to Gold's shop is in order?"

"Aye," Killian agreed. "And you'll not be going alone," he added just for me.

"I just don't understand," Tinker Bell commented. "I was just with Belle. She was just as anxious to discover what's going on as you all are."

I surveyed our small gathering wearily. Interrogations were notorious for causing fatigue, both for the perp and the interviewers, but this was more. Another day of worrying over my loved ones was drawing to a close without the promise of peace. The soft glow of encroaching twilight cast hues of purple and orange through the station windows, calling forth a strange resolve in my chest. Enough was enough.

I caught Killian's eyes again, momentarily struck by the gift shining in them. It was exactly one week since I bound his life force to mine…approximately one hundred sixty eight hours since I struggled to claim him for fear of what it revealed about my own feelings. And yet, I now felt like I'd loved him forever. I couldn't imagine – didn't want to even try to imagine – a day without him. And I was so very tired of waiting for that other shoe to drop. I wanted my time of peace, of hope…of love. I deserved it. And so did he.

Facing David I said, "We'll have to hold Smee for now. Would you please process him and then check in with Mary Margaret and Henry?" Turning back to Killian and Tink I added, "We've got a pawn shop to visit. This ends tonight."

A/N: Thank you for reading! (And reviewing, favoriting, following!)

More soon!