So one more chapter before the week begins. I feel like I have said this a lot lately, but I'm not sure when the next update will occur. My family and I have found ourselves living in the worst apartment we could imagine. It's horrible. So we have decided to move for the second time in a month. That means I have less than six days to pack our stuff back up, schedule movers, get utilities turned on, and get us settled into a very nice house. Needless to say, I'm feeling the stress of motherhood, working, being a wife, being a daughter to two aging parents, and moving. AGGGGHHHHH!

With that said, thank you for your comments. They truly do make me smile when the day pretty much sucks. In this chapter you will notice I gave Albert Spencer the last name of Nolan. I realize the show didn't do that, but I needed to for the plot.

Emma told him that he didn't have to stay as she puttered around her apartment upon the dismissal of everyone else. Ruby and Mary Margaret had stayed until Regina arrived and left, neither saying much other than holding her hands as the mayor lashed out or Ruby telling Henry to seek her out the next time he was in the diner for a free piece of apple pie on her. Regina had seemed hurt by Henry's interest in his biological mother, but most of that had been expressed in a silent rage that flared behind her eyes.

"Perhaps we best get the boy home," Robin had said to her before she could say anything too harsh. Even Emma, who was shaking with nervous energy, had seen his gentle way of touching Regina's shoulder and the familiar look of recognition from Henry. Clearly the rumors of their involvement were true.

David had arrived with the mayor too, reminding her that Henry had sought Emma out on his own and that did not necessitate either an investigation or any charges. He had smiled sympathetically at the young blonde woman, said something quietly to Killian, and led Mary Margaret away with the reminder that the next day was a school day.

Emma had disappeared into her bathroom where she had removed makeup and brushed her teeth, emerging fresh faced with her hair pushed back from her eyes. Killian wasn't sure if she was truly surprised to see him or if it was simply a surprise that she was not alone.

"I thought you left," she said, dropping her earrings into a silvery tray on her dresser. "I'm fine."

He didn't think she should be alone, but that would probably have made her think he considered her weak. So he didn't say that. "I wanted to stay." He pulled his sweater up over his head and began to unbutton his shirt, aware that her eyes were on him as if he were performing a strip tease rather than a simple act of undressing. He turned his head to catch her eyes, but she had disappeared into the bathroom again. Seconds later she emerged with a new toothbrush in her hand.

"A toothbrush?" he asked in a bit of surprise when she handed it to him.

Her teeth barely showed in the tight grin of her mouth. "You probably didn't bring one," she said nonchalantly as if she had dozens stashed away for overnight guests. "And you know, morning breath and all."

His hand was curled over hers and both wrapped around the plastic and paper casing. "He seems like a good lad," he told her, bravely broaching the subject. He knew at once that was a mistake from the flash of pain across her eyes and the part of her lips as she blew out a rush of air.

"I didn't have anything to do with that," she bitterly reminded him. "If you want to compliment something under my control…compliment the shape of his mouth or that his earlobes are detached. All I can take credit for is the DNA. Though from looking at him, that's mostly Neal." She wrenched her hand back and passed him on her way to the other side of the bed. The room was small and most of it was taken up by the bed, creating small paths that were serviceable for one person and harder for two.

He dropped his head a bit, following her lead and cleaning up a bit before he joined her in the bedroom again. He slid in as quietly and carefully as he could, not wanting to jostle her if she was asleep so quickly. "You don't have to stay," she said, her voice small and almost shaking. "I'm fine."

"Perhaps I feel like staying," he said, his hands not reaching out to her but folding on his chest as he laid on his back with eyes toward the ceiling. His desire to hold her was tempered with the realization that she was probably going to pull away. He could tell that the inner struggle was ready boil out. She didn't want anyone, including him, to see it.

She grunted a reply that he assumed meant she did not agree with his assessment. "I have to tell him, don't I?" she asked, rolling to her back and then to face him. "I can't just ignore this."

Her nose buried into his shoulder and her hand lay across his folded ones. "Aye, I can't see a way around it, love," he agreed. "Hardly fair to either Neal or the lad to hold the information back at this point."

She moved up, kissing that spot where his t-shirt met his neck. "I was hoping you'd argue with me on that one."

He felt her lift his arm over her and snuggle into his side, not waiting for him to offer her the comfort. Again, he was taken aback that she was willingly letting him see the more vulnerable side of herself. While he had not known her too long, he could make an educated guess that she was not the type of woman who did that sort of thing.

"He seemed okay, didn't he?" she asked. The change of subject harsh and jarring to him. "Henry, I mean. He seemed okay here. He didn't seem too scarred by my placing him for adoption." Her body was curled into a little ball at his side, knees drawn up and her head resting just over his heart. "I don't want him to feel abandoned. I know that feeling and it sucks."

"I didn't see him for long," Killian answered a bit hesitantly. "But he seemed fine. He is obviously a smart child to seek you out. And he handled Regina like a pro. Quite impressive."

"I thought he might hate me." She turned so her chin rested on him. In the dark it was hard to see the blue of his eyes that she had come to use to read his expressions. His fear, his adoration, his insecurity, his bravado all mirrored back at her there. "I think I would hate my parents if I met them now. At least dislike them for all that…"

"Different situations," Killian answered. "Love, you didn't abandon the lad. He was given a home, shelter, food, a parent who obviously loves him. You did not leave him on the side of the road. You didn't promise him so much and then disappear one morning without a single word or note of explanation."

She had forgotten his vague references to a father who abandoned him. But she could tell from his voice that he still had shards of that young boy inside him. The sharp edges dulled by time and perhaps understanding, but they still remained. "I know that and you know that, but he's young. Children see the world in much simpler terms."

"Yes," he agreed. "But I sense that you have been given a chance with the boy to prevent such bitterness in his life. Perhaps it will do us all some good."

***AAA***

David's shirt was ironed and smelled of the starch spray that he had used. It always reminded him of his mother, as she had ironed his shirts before school only for him to try to crumple them so he did not look as though he was trying so hard. However, the scent of that spray always gave him away.

Mary Margaret had offered to come with him, claiming that her planning period was something she could skip to be with him. But he had refused, wanting to deal with his father on his own without having to worry about her reaction to the cruel things the man would say.

The office building was not that impressive, but anything involving his father always seemed to be more formal than familial. The building where the district attorney offices were house had been a former boarding house back in the early days Maine. His father had paid his own money to have it restored and outfitted with antiques that now held modern computer equipment. Thick and plush rugs covered sections of the original hardwood floors that had been polished to a brilliant shine. Each of the former bedrooms housed offices, file rooms or conference areas with transom windows and ledges where assistants watered thriving plants. In the foyer area, just in front of a double staircase, sat an oak reception desk. An older woman with her hair in a tight bun sat there and greeted each visitor with the same stern yet grandmotherly look.

"Sheriff Nolan," she said, eying the man over the rims of her glasses. "I don't have you down to see your father today." The woman was a stickler for her schedules, something she had picked up from years at working there. His father hated surprises and more than that, hated to be taken off guard.

"I was hoping he might have a moment," David said, ignoring her gesture to sit in one of the Queen Anne chairs of the waiting area. "I really need to see him." His father's office was at the top of the stairs, door open to indicate he was not in a meeting and probably listening to the exchange. David was already up a few steps by the time the woman called to alert her boss.

Albert Spencer Nolan was halfway between sitting and standing as his son entered the room. His thin lips were even tighter in a firm line of dissatisfaction. The few hairs on his head were shock white. "You should have called," he told his son. "I would have met you some place."

"Not a social visit," David told him, throwing himself into one of the brown leather chairs. "I want to know something. And you summoned me two days ago."

"And you ignored the summons." The district attorney waved his hands in a gesture to indicate he would answer anything. As usual David was struck by the neatness of the office. Nothing was out of place. A single notepad sat in the center of the desk with perfectly lettered notes on the lined sheets. Law books in leather covers sat behind glass doors with photographs of the man with various political officials and dignitaries. There were no family photos or child made gifts from the boys' youth.

"The investigation, this case of the missing people, and even…" David frowned with the question forming in his head. "I've noticed that you seem very involved in them."

David paused as his father grimaced, pulling a white mint out of a cut crystal dish. "The polls are not looking good, David." The man's hands rested loosely on the arms of his chair. "This town, people in general, want leadership. They want a man in charge of law enforcement who takes charge, doesn't delegate, and wins." The older man searched his son's eyes for something, not finding it, he returned to his cold expression. "You are good at passing the buck, David. You want everyone who works for you to be successful. Do you know what would happen if I did that. One of these junior district attorneys asked for a bigger case the other day. He's capable, quite smart actually. But if I give him a case that big, it doesn't do me any good. People remember the person in the fight, not the man who trained them. Give too many of those away and I'm toast in the next election. People will assume I can't handle it. Or they will assume I don't want it."

"I can't take every case, father," he answered severely. "I have a life. I can't work 24 hours a day."

"Yes, you must be exhausted after spending time with your new fiancé, that teacher." Mr. Nolan's voice was forceful and full of disdain upon revealing that he was aware of the engagement. Never mind that David wasn't hiding the information. "I thought we discussed this. You and I both thought that it might enhance your image to make such a gesture a bit more public."

"My engagement isn't a public relations tactic," David reminded him. "So what did you summon me about?"

The man smiled, almost a sickeningly sweet look on his normally grim face. "The missing person's case. It is getting a fair amount of attention, isn't it?"

"You read the papers," David said noncommittedly. "Along with dragging my reputation and Emma's through the mud, I would say the other stories are typically about Anna and her fiancé."

Mr. Nolan nodded tightly at that. "The investigation into the money is over now. Even that ugly little matter with the authorization to purchase that rescue equipment has shown you to be capable and a great leader."

"It could have ruined a man's career, not to mention mine and Regina's," he pointed out to his father who was already chalking up the news coverage that did not skewer his son as a victory. "Regina and I both should have been more careful with that. Her advisor even admitted as much."

"Her advisor has a name," Mr. Nolan spat out. "Katheryn. You know, the woman who would have made an excellent match for you had you not gotten it into your head to become involved with that teacher."

David wanted to remind his father that the teacher had a name too, but it seemed juvenile to argue such things. He instead focused his attention on his father's insistence that he regain the lead status in the missing persons' investigation. "Emma is doing a fine job," he insisted. "She's the best deputy for it with her experience looking for lost people."

"If she is so good, she would have found them by now." The older man continued to disparage the deputy's clout and reputation. "I said nothing when you hired her though I knew that it wouldn't be long before that past of hers came back to haunt all of us. She's a criminal. She has never even apologized to the jewelry store owner for the theft of those watches."

"You said nothing?" David asked, incredulous to the man who had lectured for hours upon learning of David's hiring the blonde woman. "You said plenty and all of it was insulting and horrible. Emma is a good person, practically family to me. She deserves respect for the wonderful job that she does, not veiled insults and threats from you."

It was an old argument between the two, one that was repeated when Ruth was still alive. Upon Emma's initial return after her stint in jail, Mr. Nolan had made a big show of consulting attorneys and declaring that she won't inherit a dime of the family money. David had always assumed that it was Emma's lack of caring about such things and insistence that she would not defend herself to anyone who didn't truly matter that really goads the elder Nolan. He was used to people fighting with him, trying to prove that his assessment of them was wrong. It was a tactic that he used quite well in the courtroom. Emma did not play that game, simply moving on and avoiding him instead.

"Are you accusing me of something?" the man asked, sarcasm dripping from the harsh edge to the voice.

"I was trying to figure it out," David said, gauging his father's reaction. "I couldn't figure out who or why Emma's record was released to the press. Few people knew of it. Me, Mary Margaret, Ruby, Regina, and you. None of those people had anything to gain from it so it didn't make sense to me. So then I thought that maybe Sidney was just being cruel, but it still didn't explain how he got access to a juvenile record that was sealed."

The older man again asked his son if he was being accused of anything.

"You are the one who tipped off Sidney. For whatever reason, you wanted to hurt Emma and her reputation. You wanted people to think she had taken the money instead of me being accused of mismanaging it." David's face cleared, realizing that Emma's distrust for the man was not unfounded in the least. "You didn't believe that I could actually be innocent. So you set her up. The same as…You set her up."

"She is a thief working in a high powered position. Money went missing. It is not that far of a leap."

***AAA***

The coffee that she had made and poured that morning upon arriving at work is now more of a cold sludge, but she had not managed to throw it out yet and replace it with new. A few times she even caught herself trying to drink it despite knowing that it is inedible now. The map and data provided by the cell phone carrier is both overwhelming and helpful as she and Robin had spent at least three hours going over the data.

The phone that Anna had used, one of those throw away varieties that can be hard to trace, pinged off a cell tower on an island close to the coast of Maine. The island itself was small and not home to anything more than the tower, rocks, and a smattering of trees. There wasn't even a beach or a shoreline. Still, the state police were on their way there to take a look around just in case.

"It is just as likely she was on a boat that traveled close to it," Robin said, measuring off coordinates on the map and tracking likely routes given the time of the call, tidal charts and the like.

"Still doesn't answer whose boat or what she is doing on it." Emma reached for the cup again and pulled her hand back sharply. "I need to get rid of that."

"State police said something about a man's boat," Robin said. "What of that? Have you checked into the situation?"

"They don't know his name for sure," Emma said, shuffling through to where she had notes on the matter. "Edward Black, age 38, and had a boat named Anne docked here in Storybrooke for more than 18 months. Two days before Anna and Kristof disappeared, the boat is gone."

"So we need to find this Edward person, right?" Robin asked the obvious question. His lips quirked up in a smile. "However, if it was that easy I suspect you would have done it by now."

"Edward Black doesn't seem to exist. We can't find any trace of him other than this boat. State police think they might have a capture from a surveillance camera the day the boat was moved, but no luck yet. Their men are working on it." She had been woken that morning by a gruff sounding police chief who had barked orders in her ear and then talked to his granddaughter in a totally different voice.

"So it is obviously an alias," piped in John. Emma had learned long ago that John's words were never given that freely. He preferred to remain quietly observant and hold back for just the right moment. "The picture could help though."

Emma nodded. "Elsa said she didn't know of anyone named Edward, nor does she know anyone who owns a boat matching that description. I just hope this isn't a dead end." There had been far too many of those. She'd already questioned every party guest. The catering crew, the band, and cleaning staff had been next. It was all coming up empty.

"That Hans guy sounds guilty," Robin chimed in, his finger tracing out a line on the map. "Any word on his alibi?"

Emma explained that Hans and his brothers seemed to have that covered. It wasn't for lack of trying, but she was beginning to see few avenues to pursue with the man. He was clearly not going to budge, despite the fact that he was the only one with motive. His lawyer had him clamming up. That was never a good sign.

The trio continued their work for a while, ignoring the bad mood of David and the absence of Graham, who had been sent on some errand or another. John was the first to take a break, agreeing to do to the routine patrol of the city that was done every few hours. Emma was about to suggest breaking for lunch when her phone chirped.

Killian: Care for a bite of lunch? I'm in the area and thought I might ask.

Emma: I can't really leave. Can you bring something here?

She managed to convince him to bring sandwiches and various sides for both her and Robin, as well as a special order for David who was in his office clearly sulking. When Killian arrived, he and Emma both had to laugh at the childlike way that Robin dove for the bag before even acknowledging the other man's presence.

"Glad to offer you some nourishment, mate," Killian said with a laugh as Robin thanked him between bites.

"Being a deputy isn't as glamorous as television makes it look," Emma had laughingly said. "We're usually reduced to vending machines and convenience stores. "Hardly nutritious fare."

Emma and Robin tried to entertain him with a few funny stories of their time in the department. Stakeouts that went awry or arresting Leroy after he and six of his friends decided serenade Mary Margaret for some unknown reason. "We weren't planning to arrest them, mind you," Robin said, sharing a laughing glance at Emma. "But when we got there half of them stripped down and jumped into the fountain near her apartment. Started screaming that they didn't match the description of who we were looking for."

Emma shook her head, remembering it as her second week on the job. "It was a mess. I saw more of Leroy than I ever wanted to see. Made me think about changing careers."

"You have that thought every day," Robin said, waving a chip in her direction. "We all do."

Killian had managed to gulp down a few bites himself when David emerged from the office with his face an emotionless mask. He nodded at Killian and Robin before handing Emma a print out. "State sent that a few minutes ago. It's a picture of the man from the docks. Kind of blurry, but it's the best we've got."

Emma studied the black and white screen capture, discerning any detail she could from the pixelated image. "I don't recognize him." She could Robin chewing and crunching as he leaned over her shoulder to stare at the picture himself.

"Is that a beard or did he eat something furry for lunch?" When Emma scoffed at his off color remark, he shrugged. "I don't recognize him either. I guess we could take it down to the docks to see what we can turn up. Maybe someone saw him. I mean if you did, he'd be hard to miss."

Killian swallowed his last bite, leaning forward slightly as he looked at the image upside down. "Looks like Edward Teach," he said, tilting his head to the side to look at it more carefully. "Yeah, just like him."

David rolled his eyes, snatching the paper back from Emma. "You mean like the pirate who died long before any of us was born." He expected the two deputies to laugh with him. "You can't be serious."

"I'm aware of the legend of Blackbeard," Killian said. "But there was a man down in our sales department who had a bit of an obsession with him. I dare say it was borderline psychotic. Horrible fellow. I had a few run ins with him where he tried to steal a commission account or two. Last I heard he was working in the area."

"Well if his parents named him after Blackbeard, I guess it makes sense he might have a bit of an obsession," Robin said, staring back at the picture again. "I once had an obsession with Robin Hood myself for the very same reason. Even tried to teach myself archery, but after I nearly hit the cat with an arrow I quit that."

"He was born Edward Black or something like that," Killian said with a snicker at the mental image of Robin shooting arrows and wearing green tights. "Changed it to the pirate's name a few years ago."

Emma yanked the page back, practically tearing it. "Do you know where he lives?" Emma asked Killian, ignoring the sputtering from David.

"Aye," Killian offered. "At least I used to know. I can find it." He cast a look at all three in turn. "Is this about this case you've been working on?"

Emma smiled brightly at Killian. "You got it," she said, lifting herself on her toes and gifting him with a kiss to his cheek. "David's going to call Eric to tell him you're going to be out this afternoon. We've got a pirate to find."

David agreed with a grumble, reminding her unnecessarily to check in with him as often as she could. Before Killian could even realize it, Emma was bundling herself up and grabbing one of the sets of keys to a patrol car. Grabbing his scarf, she tossed it over his shoulders and pulled him back for another kiss, thanking him as she did.

"You don't thank me like that when I give you tips," Robin grumbled, throwing on his own coat to follow with them.

"Regina wouldn't like it," Emma said over her shoulder. "And I try to stay on her good side."

Not too much romance in this chapter, but I needed to move the mystery plot along some.