Clara was almost afraid to turn. She considered her day for a moment. Waking up fully clothed in bed, having to rush through a shower to get to school, getting through her courses with her eyes half closed and a twinge of a headache poking just behind her eyes, having a pirate stroll up to her on campus, with whom she'd just walked through the city for over two hours, and maybe, just maybe, there was a pirate ship to her left. Hadn't her mother told her not to run off with strange men?

Strange men, it turned out, had pirate ships.

The man in front of her was chuckling now easily, and she shifted ever so slightly, eyes narrowing, as if she wanted to close them and surprise herself. And she half expected to look over and see a dinghy just floating in the water, but what she found when she turned was a full-fledged ship. Large sails wrapped tightly around their masts, asleep and readying themselves for a journey and she pointed, somewhat embarrassed, at the vessel just as she felt his forefinger tap her chin, closing her mouth.

"It's impressive," she managed with a cough as she turned and glanced up at him.

"You should see her sail," he replied before waving an arm, "Come on, I'll give you a tour."

He moved forward, but Clara remained glued to the spot, giving his back a small shake of her head and when he turned, she gestured, "That's a pirate ship; you're a proper pirate."

"Thought we'd established this, love," he laughed.

"But you're a pirate," she repeated.

He moved back to her and raised a hand, "And you're a princess, from a land I am unfamiliar with, who has offered kindness and I am inviting you aboard – it would be bad form to decline."

Glancing back down the street that had lead through a fish market and warehousing that she hadn't noticed on their walk in, Clara picked her phone out of her pocket and raised a finger as Killian stood, hand still in mid-air, confused. "Texting Nina."

"Ah, the communication box," he nodded. "Those would come in handy aboard the ship."

Clara pocketed the phone and then looked over his shoulder, "Do you have crew? Don't pirate ships have crews? Will it not bother them that a lady is on board? Should a lady board? Isn't that bad luck? To have a lady on board?"

The questions came rapid fire and Killian found himself laughing before shaking his head, "Superstitious nonsense, Clara. And no, at the moment, the crew is dispensed."

"How do you mean, dispensed?"

With a frown, Killian explained, "Did I mention I just came from Neverland? Not exactly the best place. A boy called Pan rules the island and he's not keen on strangers docking his shores."

Laughing, Clara nodded, "I'm fairly sure you've got your fairy tales a bit mixed." Then she straightened, "Are you saying your crew's been killed?"

"Dispensed," he replied sadly.

They've been killed, she understood. Swallowing hard, she slowly raised her hand and placed it in his, watching him look back up at her in surprise before his fingers curled around hers and he lead her towards the ramp that took her aboard. The water in the dock rocked the boat slightly and she reached out to take hold of the railing, but found his coat instead, hand wrapping itself around its edge as she stumbled into him with a small gasp.

"No sea legs, I take it," he teased.

"Not one for ocean travel."

He glanced skyward and declared, "Ah, yes, I've seen the metal birds in your sky – presumed as much."

Clara smiled and shook her head, "Usually I just use the tube."

Killian's eyes darted aside and then back and she smiled.

"It's what we call underground transport."

He pointed downward and raised his brow, asking quickly, "You have transport… underground?"

She nodded, "Like a car – like a barrel, on wheels, getting pulled through… a tube."

Smirking, Killian offered, "This land has become such a strange place."

Clara glanced around, "This land's always been a bit strange."

He tilted his head in agreement and then lead her up to the helm, leaning against it as she ran a hand over the wheel and held it, turning to offer a quick giggle before asking, "What's the life of a pirate really like?" Clara brought a hand to her mouth, then shook her head, "Sorry, you don't – you don't have to answer that."

But he laughed and nodded, "Pirate's life…"

She laughed aloud and then whispered, "Yo ho."

He eyed her curiously, but offered, "It's not easy."

"Is there rum?"

Cocking his head, he told her coyly, "There's always rum."

"Isn't that dangerous? Rum aboard a ship with explosives? I mean," she gestured, "You have canons."

"Only dangerous if you let a fool run your canons," he teased.

"Won't be running the canons then," she nodded.

Killian straightened and pointed, "I reckon you'd be an excellent gunner, always mindful of the rum."

"Now you're just teasing," she smiled.

With a laugh, he nodded, "Since you've probably never handled a canon, you'd probably put a hole in the hull, sink the ship and that," he pointed, "Is why you'll remain on the top deck."

"No rummaging below?" She growled, surprising even herself. Then she paused, straightening and shifting, "Are we moving?"

Killian smiled, but then he felt it too. A slight drift to their movements and he rushed towards the edge of the ship, glancing down at the rope that hung slack, cut away from the portion tied to the dock and he shouted for her to join him, but they were swiftly being pulled backwards towards the open ocean. Towards a crackling whirlpool of red smoke that Clara turned slowly towards upon seeing the terrified look on his face.

"What is that?" She screamed, back pressing painfully into the wheel behind her.

"That," Killian told her, rushing to her side, "Is a portal."

"To what?" She asked pointedly.

Grabbing hold of the wheel, he tried to turn it, finding it frozen as he admitted, "I don't know!"