One Day at a Time

by CuteMcBeauty

CS AU. Miss Swan's a single mom who holds two shifts since her son's father left them. Mr. Jones is an unemployed widower and father who finds it hard to hold a job because of a handicap. Both broken families trying to run from painful pasts. Maybe they can work through it together... one day at a time. (Rated T for now, will eventually change to M )

4. Tic Toc

HEY ALL!

THIS IS MY VERY FIRST AU, AND I AM ACTUALLY REALLY LIKING WHERE THIS STORY'S GOING; THE EMOTIONAL AND PSYCHOLOGICAL IMPLICATIONS ARE SO INTENSE AND BEAUTIFUL... I REALLY AM ENJOYING THIS AND I HOPE YOU GUYS ARE TOO! COMMENTS AND REVIEWS ARE FOOD FOR A WRITER'S SOUL, SO PLEASE FEED ME! THANK YOU FOR FOLLOWING! HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS CHAPTER AS WELL!

Dr. Liam Jones arrived in Storybrooke no later than nine in the morning the following day. He had only visited Killian once, but it seemed that the town had changed a bit in the past six months; not that he'd ever leave Boston, or any larger city. Small towns in his mind were akin to small minds, and he was a big thinker.

So was Killian, as a matter of fact.

The younger Jones waited for him at the bus stop and as soon as he saw his older brother approach him down the tarmac, he smiled. Megan ran to him. "Uncle Liam!"

"Hey, my little dumpling!" Liam smiled as he deposited his bag on the floor to pick up the little girl, spinning her in a circle. "Oh, lords, you are truly a beauty, let me look at you." he frowned as Megan giggled happily. "Blimey… You're not Megan, Megan was a wee little girl, now, who are you and what did you do to my niece?"

"It's me, uncle Liam!" she smiled back.

"Oh… so it is! You have the Jones eyes, right there. My oh my, how time has flown, darling!" He slid her down to the floor and she turned back to her father, who was now only a meter away, holding his arms open.

"Brother!" He embraced Liam and patted his back.

"Killian, how are you?" Liam smiled.

Killian pulled away and pressed his lips in somewhat of a smile. "I'm… trying."

"It's better than nothing, although you should get rid of that beard, brother, doesn't do much in your favor…"

"Actually, uncle Liam, I have a friend called Billy Turner, and he says his mom says that my dad is a bearded beauty, like an old pirate."

Liam laughed aloud while Killian turned a shocked face to his daughter. "Wh… did Billy tell you that, darling?"

"Yeah. " She shrugged. "Actually, I don't think she's a very nice lady at all. Billy also told me she wanted to tie you down and spank you. Why would she want to hurt you, daddy?"

Liam had to literally turn around to laugh aloud in the opposite direction while Killian blushed insanely, trying to conceal his embarrassment with a smile. "I… suppose some people are just a bit barmy, cupcake." He smiled back at his daughter.

Megan seemed satisfied; Childhood innocence, a bonus and score one in favor of living in a small town. Had she been in Boston, she would have probably punched Billy in the mouth.

Once Megan had been dropped off at school, Killian and Liam settled for coffee at Granny's. Just as they were seated, a familiar face approached them. "Good morning and welcome to… Oh… Killian!" Emma smiled.

"Morning, love." He smiled. "I expected to get that call from you any moment, I'd forgotten that…" he shook his head, his goofy smile maybe saying more than what he even thought it would. "But where are my manners? Emma, this is Liam, my brother. Liam? This is Emma Swan, the woman I spoke of to you over the phone."

Liam stood up and Emma was astounded to find herself dwarfed by a handsome man at least six feet in height. "Miss Swan, a pleasure…" He held his hand out and Emma shook it with a wry grin as she stared into his face, astounded.

He was kind of handsome. No, he was really handsome.

Killian gulped.

"Wow…" she laughed a gushy giggle. "Well, welcome to Storybrooke, Dr. Jones." He sat back down. "Coffee?"

"Wouldn't mind."

"And for me, love, please." Killian grinned at her pleasantly.

Emma sighed with a smile as she poured the two cups, before once again turning to Liam. "I can't begin to tell you how much I appreciate what you're doing for us, Dr."

"Please call me Liam."

"Liam." She grinned, the apples of her cheeks reddening in a way that made the hair in the back of Killian's head rise ever so softly.

Emma giggled mawkishly again, and Killian cleared his throat. "Actually, Emma? I've news for you. A good development." Emma turned to him expectantly. "I had a word with headmaster McIntyre yesterday afternoon; he erhm…" he scratched the back of his ear. "Well, as long as Henry improves his behavior, he is willing to admit him back in school."

Emma dropped the coffee pot, gawking at Killian. She then immediately went down on the floor, trying to clean up. "I'm sorry, I …"

Granny Lucas approached. "Ok, what happened here?"

Emma bolted up and Killian saw tears in her eyes. "I… I'm sorry, I dropped the kettle, I…"

The older woman shook her head. "When will you come back down from the clouds, Emma?" she grinned kindly as she summoned the busboy over to clean up the mess on the floor. She then turned to Emma. "You need a few minutes?"

Emma nodded silently as Granny tilted her head amicably. "You can use the lobby. Henry?"

The boy emerged from behind the bar, smiling as he soaped the dishes with Ruby. As soon as his eyes met his mother's, his smile disappeared. "I believe your mom wants to have a word with you, kiddo, get over here."

Ruby said something to the kid with a friendly smile as he dried his hands and sourly followed his mom and the two men back into the lobby.

Once they all settled, Emma removed her apron and sat down, tears finally rolling down her eyes. "Ok, I just… want to make sure I heard right. You said that… Principal McIntyre is willing to… admit Henry again?"

Henry's eyes shot straight up at her, and then at Killian.

Killian huffed as he twirled the fingers of his good hand. "Aye. He says that as long as the boy is getting some help and he doesn't act out, he is willing to go on a little faith with him." He turned his eyes to Henry, who looked equally stunned. "Actually, we rather… made a deal." He shrugged.

"A deal?" Emma frowned, "What kind of deal?"

"That's quite irrelevant; but it's a good deal. I couldn't refuse."

Henry leaned forward. "You made a deal with the headmaster?" Killian nodded. "Just so I could…?"

"You deserve a chance, lad."

Liam drew a deep breath and exhaled through the teeth of a broad smile. This was fine, fine sailing indeed.

Henry looked utterly confused. "But… I hit Megan! You don't… hate me?"

Killian shook his head. "No, Henry, I don't hate you and neither does she." He grinned. "Let's just say we… rather know how you feel right now. Few people do." He sighed and raised his brows. "Anyways, I've Leroy's ship to fix today; he's rather mouthy for one his size, I'd sooner go and see to it."

Killian grinned again, nodded farewell, stood up and walked to the door.

"Wait, Killian?" Emma stood up and followed him to the door. "I… I really don't know what to say…"

The man smiled softly and glanced beneath his brow to where Liam had started chatting young Henry up. "Then don't. I'm just glad the lad got a second chance." He looked at her. "Sometimes people need a bit of a helping hand to find their footing." He swallowed. "Some of us aren't quite as fortunate, so…"

"Hey…" She placed a hand on his arm with a sympathetic little smirk on her lips; Killian eerily felt the skin beneath her touch and his shirt rise in goose bumps. "It's ok."

Thank god for the cotton fabric that concealed his arm.

Emma closed her eyes tight. "Listen, maybe… you and your brother can come to the loft, tonight?" She shrugged. "For dinner. I just… I have to do something to repay you."

He smiled fully. He didn't notice he had until she smiled back.

"No need to pay. The look on the boy's face was enough." He shrugged and tucked his hands in his pockets. "Besides this night I think my brother, daughter and I might dine and… catch up."

Emma felt herself blush. "Yeah, of course. Silly of me…"

"But perhaps later this week?" He raised his eyebrows, wondering if perhaps his words might have been having a life of their own. "And only if you allow me to do the cooking."

Emma smiled fully and nodded with a certain modicum of enthusiasm. "Yeah, yeah sure, that would be great!"

The two shuffled their feet awkwardly as they stood by the door for a few seconds.

"Anyway, I'd… better see to that dwarf's boat." He chuckled as he scratched the back of his ear. "And I've a few other things to do before tomorrow…"

"Tomorrow?" Emma frowned.

Killian nodded, hands in his pockets. "The deal. I have to talk to Paul again."

"Paul?"

"Principal McIntyre."

Emma bit her lower lip. "You didn't… pull Megan out, or anything like that, did you?"

Killian laughed a healthy cackle and Emma was astounded to discover she actually could get used to the sound of it. "Heavens, no, not at all." He simmered down and rolled his eyes. "All right, I'll tell you. I was offered a position as a teacher there; they're quite understaffed and needed someone to teach their art class." He shrugged. "So I accepted the position."

Emma's eyes seemed to glow, a mild grin making her cheeks bulge like two tiny apples.

"No one has ever done anything like that for me… for us." She stood on the balls of her feet and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek before hugging him suddenly. "Thank you…" She whispered.

It was almost an automatic motion that made Killian's arms respond to the hug. The truth was no woman had embraced him since Milah, in any way or form. Not like this, at least: Face to face, willingly… with any form of affection, even gratitude.

"So, what was it this time?" Liam shook his head as he looked at his younger brother's shattered, bloody face. "Bookies?"

"A pimp." Killian swallowed. "Forgot to get to the ATM for cash."

Liam sneered and turned away. "Killian, for Pete's sake, are you whoring now? It's been only two months since Mil…"

"I bloody well know how long it's been Liam, no need to remind me, all right?" He yelled back.

"Killian… You are going off the bend, mate. I fully understand your grief, brother, I do, but… hookers?" He shook his head. "How much do you owe the tart?"

Killian swallowed a hard gulp as he looked down to the floor. Even from a young age, Liam had always had a straight and narrow line of thought, a path of good form Killian could only ever dream of; he, on the other hand, was the 'artist', flaky most of the times, hyperactive, creative and never able to settle. Not until he had found a nice set of crayons and paper. In the end, Liam had become a true man of science, the first in his class, one college scholarship after the other, while Killian had to find his own path. He had succeeded… and then lost, the family failure yet once more. Unbarred and unabated shame glazed the younger Jones's eyes as he searched the floor for a hole where he might jump in.

"Three hundred quid."

"What?" Liam turned around swiftly. "Three hun…? Who the fuck did you bonk, Killian, Princess Kate?"

"It was one hundred originally; but her panderer raised the bar for my delay. If I don't pay him now, he'll raise it again to six hundred." He looked up at Liam and had actual tears in his eyes. "…they know where I live, brother. Megan's home alone with the nanny, I…"

Liam huffed hard and shook his head as he reached for his wallet. "Bloody hell, Killian." He looked in and found only one hundred and fifty pounds. "Look, we'll have to go to the cash machine, love."

Killian now looked terrified. "No! He's… he's downstairs now, he followed me! I've no money with me, Liam!"

"So you bloody led him to where my wife and I live? Bloody brilliant!" Liam swung his arms up in exasperation. "Ok… I've but one way out of this." He reached for his wrist and removed a watch he wore. Killian paled.

"Liam no…"

"I'm open to suggestions, brother."

"That watch has been in our family for six generations! It's worth much more than what I owe the bloody mack!"

"All the more reason he'll leave us alone, won't he?" He paced downstairs and Killian heard as the towering figure that was Liam David Jones shouted at the pimp. Soon there was silence.

Liam walked back up again and found Killian curled on the corner. "There. It's done. They won't bother you or us again."

Killian raised his eyes over at his brother, torn, distraught and ashamed. "Wh… what did you tell him?"

"I happen to know Lord Mayor of Westminster Town, Killian; His boy is a patient of mine, with overwhelming results of improvement. He's always told me out of gratitude that should I ever need a string or two pulled, not to hesitate and give him a holler." He shrugged. "So I gave that hustler dad's watch, told him it's worth at least a couple thousand quid, and that should he ever bother you, your daughter or ever show up at this doorstep again…" He shrugged, "I'd make sure he'd wind up having a cheery tête-à-tête with the river sediment."

Killian swallowed hard and hung his head low. "Liam, I…"

"Look, Killian, go home to your daughter. And take a bloody bath, for Christ sake."

"I am… so sorry…"

"Aye, you should be." Liam swallowed. "I'm sure that, had Father been alive today and he been in my shoes, he would have done the same for you. Nevertheless, he's not alive anymore, and that watch was the one thing he had passed down on us that meant something. You have seriously buggered up this time, Killian."

"I know."

"I'll call you a taxi."

"No… I'll walk…" Killian stood up, wiping the still dripping-blood off his nose.

Liam sneered. "You can't be serious, what with that bloody wanker still marauding?"

Killian shook his head. "Like I told you, Liam, I've no money on me, and I dare not take another penny from you. Not tonight." He whispered.

Liam sighed deep and ran a hand down his face. "So your haughty pride might just cost you your bloody life, then? Can you possibly be any more selfish?" Liam shouted.

"IT'S NOT PRIDE, IT'S SHAME! I'M ASHAMED, ALL RIGHT?" Killian hollered as he stampeded out of the room. He stopped just as he reached the door and held his breath, before turning around. "I needed a woman tonight…"

"Killian..:"

"Just… hear me, all right? I just wanted a shag. Nothing else, if only to feel the thrill of a good fuck. And that's as far as I dare wish for, Liam." He turned his face to his brother, his eyes glazed, but tears unshed as they gazed blankly into the wall. "I had love once. A wife. And …Just… seeing her wind down slowly, day in and day out, until she decided that I wasn't enough, that she'd rather pack it all in… I failed her, Liam. It was I who couldn't steer the helm, it was I who didn't swim fast enough to grab my boy and pull him from the propellers." He made eye contact. "It was I that couldn't make my own wife happy any more. As if I had pushed her into the river myself. I wasn't enough…" His eyes dropped to the floor. "I wasn't enough." A tear finally strayed down his cheek. "Why would I not go whoring, mate? I truly shouldn't hope for more than some knee-trembler in an alleyway or an occasional wank in a pub loo, since I certainly do not… deserve love any more. Not after what I've done."

Liam stared at his younger brother, once proud, happy, and carefree… now a shadow. He ached deeply; Killian may have been a mess, but he was, after all, his 'little brother', and his only family. It hurt his own heart to learn that such a bright, spirited soul was spiraling so swiftly into terrible, unyielding darkness. He walked to him and hugged him hard. "Killian… brother…"

For a few seconds, Killian closed his eyes and allowed his brother to hug him hard. But he broke away, eyes closed. "I have to go. I am so sorry, brother."

"Killian…"

"Goodnight Liam. Thank you."

Liam was helpless and wept as he looked out the window five minutes later, hearing the pained, tearful hollers that stemmed from two alleyways down. "Milah! Patrick! MILAH!"

When Emma pulled away, Killian had a healthy flush on his cheekbones. He grinned and nodded and quickly took a step back as he cleared his throat. "I will call you." He grinned, winked, and moved out.

Emma glanced in the direction of his departure and was suddenly caught by a chuckle coming from henry. She turned and found that the boy was actually exchanging smiles with Liam and that their chat, whatever it was, was amicable.

She sighed deep and closed her eyes with a smile as she went back to work.

Her later shift at "Tony's" was always a proper nightmare.

"Emma! What did you do? Look at the time! Where are the ravioli for table six? You are so slow! I might deduct your tips tonight for that broken glass! You should lose weight, the dress looks too tight on you!" And, like every night, as she visited Mr. Dinapoli to collect her tips (he rarely ever didn't give them), she was met with the usual suggestive banter: "When will you accept my offers, Miss Swan, hm? You are a beautiful woman. I ask but for one night. No? Well, here's your tips and no raise, no nothing ok?" And sick, sweaty cheeks were licked and asses were grabbed and people were manhandled, threats were uttered and an angry young mother emerged from the restaurant once the night had fallen, hoping and praying to find her boy still at home.

As the keys rustled, Emma peeked inside, to find Henry laying a videogame. "Hey kid…" She smiled, relief flooding her as it always did when she came home at night, to find him still indoors.

"Hi." He replied, his full attention focused on the screen.

She kicked off her shoes and as always, relished in the feeling of the cold floor on her searing feet. She paced towards Henry. "Halo 5?"

"No, this is online, I don't know what it is…"

Emma grinned. "Can I join in?"

Henry paused the game and reached into the box under the coffee table for another controller. "Here. You get to be the big dude."

"Big dude it is…"

They started playing. "So? How was your day?"

Emma huffed. "Thanks for asking, wow… Same as always, you know Mr. Dinapoli."

"Douchebag."

"Yep."

"I really don't get why you can't get another job and just dump that asshole."

"Hey, I won't have you talking smut in my home, thank you very much."

"It's the truth."

Emma sighed and nodded, her lips pressed. "Yeah, that it is." She raised her eyebrows.

Henry suddenly paused the game and turned to look at his mother. "So? Did you find out?"

"Find what out?" Emma frowned softly.

"Mr. Jones. The deal he struck with the principal to take me back..:"

Emma grinned happily. "Yeah. He's going to be an art teacher there." She shrugged. "I had no idea a guy that fixed boats would be qualified but… I guess he must be."

Henry looked thoughtful. "Maybe he wants to get into your pants."

"HENRY!" Emma squeaked.

"Well, what if he does?"

Emma chuckled and slumped her head back. "I'm pretty sure he does NOT want to get into my pants, and where do you come off suddenly talking like a pirate on shore leave?"

The boy shrugged. "It just seems like he's just going out of his way to help us. He doesn't even know me and he just got me back in school." He groaned. "Ugh… I have to take my uniform back out, don't I?"

"Yeah, you do." Emma licked her lips. "You want anything for dinner?"

"Mom, it's ten. Dinner?"

Emma nodded sadly. "Yeah. You're right. So…" She smiled at him suddenly. "Liam. You guys hit it off well."

"I guess…"

"What did you talk about?"

Henry looked down. "He just asked me a bunch of questions and took notes. Like… what's my full name, who I live with, what I like…" He grinned. "He's kind of funny, actually. He said that he will meet me there again, after school, tomorrow."

Emma tried to hide her excitement. For the first time in a whole year, things seemed to be rolling along. This was the first actual friendly conversation she had had with her son in a long time.

"That's great, kid."

Henry stared at his mom long and hard and actually managed to muster up a grin. "Well, I'd better get to bed. Night."

Emma secretly hoped for a kiss. She did 't get one.

Nevertheless, she smiled as soon as Henry had brushed his teeth and closed her bedroom door.

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"Children, listen up!" Paul McIntyre's assistant Dolly spoke to the class amassed in the art workshop. "This is Mr. Jones. He will be your art teacher now. Make sure he feels welcome in class." She turned her face to a sheepish-looking Killian as she handed him a piece of chalk. "They're all yours."

"Thank you." He smiled at her as she walked out, before turning to the class, who looked at him amidst the chuckles of some suddenly star-struck preteen girls who kind of swooned, and the hustle of sounds he expected form a class of young children aged between ten and eleven. His eyes zeroed on his daughter (whom he had kindly instructed not to call him daddy in class) and henry, who looked keen to be back in school, albeit a typical and visible barrier of gravitas plastered on his young, freckled face.

"Right." He spoke. "So… Bear with me, lads and lasses, this will be fun for all if we make it so. So…" He paced back and forth. "We will begin by me explaining to you how I came to this position. It just so happens that I not only fixed your parents' ships or blenders… I happen to have a rather good hand at drawing and your headmaster through it wise that I may pass that knowledge on to you. My name is Killian Jones. You may call me Killian, or Mr. Jones if you so prefer, I don't mind. Now I need to know your names. Who wants to start?"

One by one, the kids stood and spoke their names (Megan felt incredibly silly) and Killian placed dots on his list.

"Right, you lot, if you will excuse me for just one minute, I need to ask your headmaster a question, and then we can get started." Killian stood from his chair and went to his locker. He looked to either side and ever so discreetly, took a swig out of a rum flask before returning it swiftly into his new locker, turning the combination lock and stopping for a breath. "Just for the nerves, is all…" He said, in an attempt to swage himself from the guilt of the fact that he was actually imbibing simply because he felt like a drink. He woofed out some air, took a deep breath and headed back down the hall and into the classroom. He was amused to hear the typical sound of children making a racket, and remembered he and Lima had probably been the same in their school years back home.

As soon as he opened the door, silence suddenly struck the class; he turned to the blackboard and was greeted by a very large cartoon of himself, with a hook where his missing hand should be, labeled as "Professor Captain Hook". Some children were still cackling.

"Ah!" he smiled and turned to the class. "Well, this is quite a surprise, as it turns out, there is indeed a hidden artist here somewhere!" He paced around. "Come on, who are you?"

Silence.

"Oh, I see you lot are a team. That's a good thing, teamwork. Now, let's just say I AM indeed, Captain Hook. That would make me your leader and you lot, are my crew. So… whomever did this, kindly stand and come to the front of the class please…" Obviously, nobody did. "Come now, such a skilled artist wouldn't want to miss out on an extra point for today! I swear, mates, none will walk the plank for this." The children began to exchange looks. "Tough crew… hm." Killian clucked his tongue. "I'll double my offer: A point for the mate that confesses and another point for the one who rats him or her out, although according to the pirate code, ratting out is… well, bad form. So… where are you, my dear talented bilge rat?" He smiled around and some of the children giggled.

A shy hand was held up at the back.

"There we go, nothing a proper booty can't buy! So, trespasser or ratting out? Come over here, come along…"

The small figure of a short, dark-haired girl, with freckles and huge brown eyes walked, sullen, to the front.

"Very well, lass." Killian smiled from his chair. "Do you have a name?"

The girl mumbled something.

"What? Can't make out what you said there, love."

"Nikki Martin!" the girl spoke loudly.

Killian smiled. "Miss Nikki Martin! Well, are you going to inform the captain about the identity of the creator of this… magnificent sketch of my persona?"

Nikki shrugged fearfully. "I did it."

"Ah! Well…" He stood up and walked her to the blackboard. "Might I say you have quite a gift there, Nikki my love! The wit is uncanny, not to mention your sense of proportion. Although I'd like to think my nose isn't quite as large as this fellow's. Might you… trim it up a tad?" he held the chalk out to her and the class sniggered again. "Go on, fix it!"

With an embarrassed sigh, the girl mended the caricaturesque nose to something a little less… offensive. "Ah, jolly good! That's better, wouldn't you agree?" he turned a cheery face to the group, who were by now, also smiling. "Now, Nikki, darling, might I enquire… why exactly you are comparing me to Captain Hook?"

The girl gulped and blushed.

"Go on, don't be afraid to say it…" The girl didn't respond and Killian spoke in a high-pitched voice out of the corner of his lip. "Because you are one handed like he is, sir! AHHH there we go, thank you lass, here… I will give you the promised extra point for your keen and enthusiastic allotment to today's class. Off you go, back to your post, sailor Martin…"

The class smiled as Nikki returned to her seat, slightly embarrassed but relieved not to be getting sent to the principal's office.

Killian again turned to the blackboard with a smile. "Quite clever, quite indeed." He turned back to them. "So… Since we are on board a pirate ship today, my dearest crew, might you want to tell me, anyone, where captain Hook comes from?" There was a stunned and bewildered, albeit amused, silence. "Eaton College. He was the son of wealthy parents. Turns out, Captain Hook wasn't ALWAYS a pirate." He paced. "Anyone know the story where Captain Hook was depicted, anyone?"

Two hands rose. He picked the one close to the wall. "Your name, wee sailor?"

"Miranda…"

"Please, Miss Miranda…"

"Mmhhh… Peter Pan?"

"Aye, brilliant. Peter…. Pan…" He jotted on the blackboard. "Nice, now…" he darted his ever-blue eyes to the class. "Who here has actually, really read this book? The original play by J.M. Barrie?" Two or three hands were held up. Killian winced. "Oh that's no good. I'll have to have a word with your literature professor. This is not just a story about children who can fly, or fairies that sprinkle fairy dust, or even pirates, for that matter. There's something of the utmost importance to this tale, a massively a very consequential and meaningful element." He turned and drew a circle around the hook Nikki had given him in his drawing. "Can anyone here tell me exactly why Captain Hook has a hook and NOT a hand?"

Five hands flew up and Killian picked one. "You, sailor. Name?"

"Allistair!"

"Thank you Allistair, now can you tell me the answer? Please stand up so the class will hear you…"

The boy stood up. "He lost his hand in a battle with Peter Pan; the Pan then fed it to a crocodile."

"Indeed, very good, Alistair, thank you! Now, this is a fairly ruthless captain, but there are two things he fears more than anything. What are they?"

More hands shot up. He pointed at one. "You, love!… your name?"

"Shanique."

"Lovely name, Shanique! So, what does the captain fear?"

"The crocodile … annnnd…"

"And?"

"Ticking clocks."

"TICKING CLOCKS!" Killian spoke up with a smile. "Thank you my dear, that's accurate!" He wrote down the word 'clocks'.

"So here's the key to that thing I told you lot about, lads and lasses. Let's see if anyone can guess what that is. The one thing that moves the entire story of Peter Pan…. Or stops it altogether. Can anyone guess?"

He had the class's attention, for sure. All the kids stared at him in bewilderment.

"Let me give you all a hint… tic… toc… tic…. toc…"

"TIME!" Hollered the class.

Killian laughed. "Time, indeed!" He wrote it down. "The clock that Hook hears scares him because, as the crocodile comes closer, he fears his own demise…. Time is running out." His smile disappeared as he faced the word time on the blackboard. "Neverland; The place where time never, ever moves. Ironic the captain should meet his fate… in a place where one never grows old. One minute, he was the captain of the…" He gulped. "The Jolly…. The Jolly Roger. Next minute, he became fishfood." He composed himself and turned back to the class. "Everyone wants more time, my dear bilge rats. Alas… Neverland is but a fairy tale. Hence, we need clocks and watches, to look at it, to see it pass… to never forget to live today, because we never know…" He smiled sadly. "We never know about tomorrow." He sighed and tilted his head in the direction of a large box at the back of the room. "Over in that box at the back, you will find wooden cutouts, round ones. On the box next to it, you will find little clock engines and the hands. Each one of you take one, and bring them to your work stations. You may decorate your clock whichever way you see fit…" He paced around circling his hand. "Time is a skittish thing, mates. Must make use of it. Make that clock your very own Neverland, so that when you take it home and you look at it on your walls, you can make time stop in your minds, at least, for a moment… and be there." All the children stared at him with grins. Killian widened his eyes. "Well, go on, you lot! Tic Toc!"

All the kids stood and went for their materials.

Killian grinned and sat down to enjoy watching them all as they drew, painted and crafted their clocks.

Nikki Martin stood and approached him.

"Sir?"

"Miss Martin, won't you address me as Captain?"

The girl laughed. "Sorry… Captain."

"What is it, sailor Martin?"

The girl shuffled her foot on the floor. "I… wanted to tell you that I'm… sorry, for trying to make fun of you."

Killian cackled. "No harm done, love. Matter of fact, you gave me exactly what I needed to start off the class with the necessary verve." He grinned. "Now off you go, make your clock."

"Aye, aye, Captain, sir!" The girl nodded and went back to her labors.

From her seat, Megan raised her face and smiled with pride at her father before settling back to her work. Killian's heart soared at the look of lofty respect in his little girl's face and he sighed with a deep sense of satisfaction as he looked at the drawing Nikki had made.

"Captain James Hook…" Killian bit his lip. "The Jolly…" he chuckled. "Never made that connection."

That afternoon, as he was rummaging through his locker, he came across his flask, and found the will to simply shove it into his knapsack.

He wouldn't drink in school again, not even a sip.

"Mr. Jones?"

Killian closed the locker door and found Henry. "Hello, m'boy, how are you today?"

Henry grinned. "That was a hell of a class."

Killian gasped and slouched slightly, whispering. "Was it? I've never given one before…˝

Henry smiled at him. "Here… I made this just now, during math. I gotta say, it bores me to death… but I had the time to do this."

He handed a piece of paper over to Killian. The man was stunned to find a near perfect rendition of himself, teaching class, the drawing of Captain Hook behind him.

The boy was a natural.

His smile disappeared as he studied the sketch. "Henry, this is… this is quite exquisite. You really did this?"

The boy shrugged. "Yeah. I guess … I want to thank you."

Killian's blue eyes achingly met Henry's. He grinned and ruffled his auburn head. "You're quite welcome lad. Now… don't go wasting the chances you're given. We've but one life. Must get it right the first time." He winked at the boy.

Henry smiled and went off to his next class.

Killian's heart was beating hard.

He went to the bathroom and took another swig from his bottle… two more… and then turned to the sink, pouring the contents of the bottle into it.

"Don't go wasting the changes you're given…" He sighed. "Hear hear, captain…"