Portland, Oregon, Oct 20, 2000

A lone figure was sitting on a dock, feet dangling over the water as she stared at the shiny object in her hand. She got the whistle a few years ago in her sex education class. She laughed at the reminder to only blow it during emergencies. She found the darn thing earlier in the day when she was digging in her backpack for a disposable fork to eat her food. It was one of the few reminders of her time in foster care before everything turned to shit. After her near death experience with that psycho Ingrid, she decided to escape the system, quit high school altogether, and live on her own.

Here she was, seventeen years old, sitting in a dock and watching the sky become dark in Portland, Oregon. This weather was supposed to accompany some windstorm within the next week with winds from 90 -100 mph. Of course, some of the residents went to panic and raided all of the convenience stores because the news hyped up the impending weather. Emma didn't mind because the cars were easy targets to filch some necessities, since some people made it a habit to raid multiple stores.

Emma survived on her own without anyone's help thus far. She could be on her own for the rest of her life. Nope, she didn't need anyone. With a heavy sigh, she absently blew on the whistle.

Suddenly, a heavy wind picked up and her hair started flying in all directions. She hurriedly stood upright and tried running along the docks to make it back to the mainland. Eventually, her momentum slowed to a crawl due to the resistance she met by the wind's speed. The dock's platform behind her started to splinter and bend downward, forming a ramp descending towards the water. She didn't think it possible for her situation to become worse as the wind knocked her down, causing her to slide down the deck. Her hand reached out and she managed to grab a bracket protruding from the deck, preventing her descent into the roaring waters. Her fingers were losing their grip from her body's strain. I didn't plan on dying this way, she thought, seeing the swirling whirlpool below ready to welcome her when she fell.

The wind continued its relentless assault on the dock, and with a final snap the wooden plank, forming the last support to the intact deck, finally broke in half. The last thing she heard was her scream as her body plunged into the cold ocean before everything went black.

She woke up with a start, gasping for air. Her eyes darted everywhere as she took in her surroundings. She was on a bed in a small room. She swore she heard a creak of old wood. The room was tilting as though it was rocking. Where the hell was she?

Her thoughts were interrupted with a knock at the door.

"Come in," she said. She winced as soon as she registered how weak her voice sounded-a clear indicator of her racing heart.

Two men with differently styled, black hair entered the room. They were wearing naval uniforms, which would be considered antiques in her society. Under normal circumstances, she would've taken the time to ogle their handsome faces. In her situation, all she wanted was answers.

"Where am I?" She asked, her tone implied that she wasn't having small talk with these men. If she appeared unapproachable, they wouldn't ask about her well-being. Small talk would give them an opportunity to pretend to be her friend.

"You're on the Jewel of the Realm," the one with the tame, black hair answered. He had a certain lilt to his voice that was akin to British and Irish. She inwardly screamed as she fought to keep her face stoic to hide her surprise. The man had to have an accent.

"The fastest ship in all of the realms," the other man added. Looking at the ceiling, she cursed her luck because of fucking course, he had an accent too.

"Realms?" Who even talks like that anymore? She thought tiredly, rubbing her eyes in frustration. All she wanted to do was go home and not deal with her current situation. If she was on a ship, why did everything seem old fashion?

Her heart sank when she saw the two men exchange confused looks before looking at her concerned. They thought she was crazy.

Clearly, these men weren't going to answer her. There was no sense of letting them waste her time. She got up from the bed slowly, her eyes darting frantically like a scared animal. The tame haired man slowly walked forward, brows furrowed in concern.

"Are you alright, miss." No, she was not all right. Her life was always planned and she avoided any situations that were out of her control. Hence, she always had an escape plan before she decided to do things. Her personal rule was to always know her surroundings. .

She ignored the man who addressed her and ran outside. The smell of salt assaulted her nose when she opened the cabin door. Sure enough, ocean surrounded the entire boat, spanning miles across. The sound of a loose, wooden floorboard brought her back to the present. Holy shit. The fucking ship was made of solid wood, and all the men had freaking swords.

What the hell was going on? She thought, crouching her knees down on the ground and hands cradling the back of her head. This had to be a sick joke. Kevin must be fucking with her. This was the only possible explanation for her being on a boat from Regency, England filled with sailors with British accents. Despite the handsomely, attractive man with the bluest eyes that matched the ocean, hovering over her, pretending that he actually gave a damn. She had to stop this farce before it continued.

"Okay, who put you up to this?" She asked nervously, pleading with the man to stop the prank.

Her body started to shiver from her damp clothes from the night before. The man tentatively took a step forward and reached out before retracting his hand again. He probably wanted to comfort her, since she was standoffish he decided against the action. His tame hair became disheveled as he ran his fingers through it, showing his distress. Emma thought that he wanted to help her but didn't know how because she wouldn't let him. If he was of that opinion, then it was better for him to hold onto his belief. She didn't trust him. Trusting meant that she would've to care for him-give her the opportunity to be vulnerable. Damn it, why did he hover over her as if she was going to break at any minute?

"Okay, tell me." His eyes softened when she spoke. Emma wanted to laugh when she knocked that look from his face. "How much did you get paid to act like sailors? I get the joke. You are reenacting that Jim Carey movie, except period edition."

"What's a movie, lass?" His eyebrow lifted in confusion.

She pinched the bridge of her nose at the way she was being addressed. Of course, he had to be in character and play dumb.

"Milady, we picked you up in the middle of the ocean, and you coughed up a bit of water. Now, we need to get you changed," he said, reaching out his hand for her to take. She wanted to tell him to fuck off and quit looking at her with pity because she wasn't some charity case until she realized she was at a complete disadvantage. She must have stared at his hand way to long because it immediately dropped to his side, fist clenching.

"If you would follow me, " he said, forcing a polite smile. Emma could tell that he was being frustrated with her, due to being less receptive to his gentleman gestures. She wasn't fooled; she knew this was all a trick or a dream. It didn't matter what this guy thought of her.

As they walked, she noticed that the other man was missing-the curly haired one.

"Where is the other guy I saw earlier?"

"Do you mean the captain? He felt that…" He caught himself, looking at her guiltily. Her eyes narrowed at the implication that the captain was missing because of her. In other words, the captain wasn't there because he thought that she was going to run away like a bat out of hell again. "He had something to attend to, but I can fetch him if you like." He finished respectfully, stopping in front of a wooden door.

After following him inside, Emma recognized the room as the one she woke up in earlier that day. She let her eyes wander around the room as he rummaged through the dressers. The room was laced with bookshelves. A desk was in the far corner. Maps were neatly stacked on top of each other. Whoever owned the room was neat.

"Here you go." His voice stopped her from further analyzing the room. She looked in his direction and saw him approaching her with clothes. "It's not going to be a perfect fit, but at least you will be out of those clothes." He smiled at her apologetically.

"Thank you. I suddenly feel tired, do you mind if I rest?" She requested with a tired sigh, taking the offered garments.

"You can sleep there." The man gestured to the bed and nodded in her direction before leaving. She looked up when she expected to hear the door shut. The man was hovering by the door, looking at her nervously.

"If you need anything... ask for Lieutenant Jones." He finished with a hesitant smile.

As soon as the door shut, she fell back on the bed ungracefully, staring at the ceiling. She would get answers and get out of this mess soon. With this goal in mind, she fell into a restful sleep.

Her no nonsense attitude only lasted until the next day. That was when she became hysterical. All she wanted to do was use the toilet and they pointed her to the "head" of the ship, which was a tiny hole to do her business. She was already reaching the point where she was missing toilet paper -not that excuse called frayed rope, this world's version of toilet paper. She never thought she would miss her toothbrush until she had to clean her teeth with salt, chalk, and a herb, smelling twig.

All she wanted was some normalcy or something familiar to cling onto. Hell, she was missing her whistle that was once hung around her neck. She looked to the sky and she couldn't take it anymore. She ran to the side of the boat.

"Haha, you got me, Kevin! You can stop with the prank. What must I do to get out of here?!" She yelled out over the ocean, begging for the crewmen to stop their charade. Wetness lined her face. Reaching up to her cheek, she felt the dampness. Great, she was crying.

If this was under normal circumstances, she would have laughed at the bewildered looks that the crewmen were throwing her. The whole day the soldiers seemed to tip toe around her and giving her looks of concern or hesitance. She was starting to come into the realization that she was royally screwed.

"Are you all right, lass?" A voice asked, filled with concern. Emma looked up to see the familiar face of the man who would not leave her side. Oh, right, the lieutenant, she remembered. She was glad he was respectfully keeping his distance.

"What happened?" He asked after observing her lack of silence. She realized that he was expecting her to finally open up.

"I was sitting on a dock." She began and almost cringed at the sign of her voice breaking. She didn't want to look weak in front of this stranger. " I don't understand. One minute, the sky was clear, and the next, a freak storm happened. I heard that we were expecting a windstorm, but that was in a matter of days.

"Maybe you were caught up in that storm that happened yesterday. We were leaving town and were miles off the coast until a storm brewed. We found you among the destruction. Where are you from?" He probed, scratching behind his left ear.

"Portland, Oregon in America." She watched his reaction, looking for a sign to show she was not crazy. After seeing no recognition in his eyes, she wanted to throw up.

"I havn't heard of that realm, nor do I think it's a town in the Enchanted Forest. We-"

"The Enchanted Forest?" She rudely cut him off. She was stuck in fairy tale land. Clearly, this must be a dream. Some horrible fucking nightmare she was going to wake up from.

He could tell that she was going to refute him again because he said, "I am afraid I am telling you the truth."

"You're joking right?" She questioned, panicked. Suddenly, she became queasy. She ran and placed both her hands on the side of the deck. Her body was leaning on the wall of the deck, head hovering over the ocean. All of the stress, anxiety, and seasickness within the last two days took their toll. She almost stiffened when she felt pressure on her back but relaxed as the hand continued to rub soothing circles in a comforting manner.

This man beside her was real and the taste currently in her mouth was real as well. She was beginning to realize that this wasn't a dream.

"In my land, the Enchanted Forest is only in the stories. Magic was a myth... I don't belong here. I don't know if I can return..." She trailed off, staring at the calm ocean. The ocean was a stark contrast to her inner turmoil she was feeling.

"I assure you. This is all very real. Nothing, is going to happen to you while you are here. You can have my bed in the meantime," he vowed, looking at her seriously. She wanted to tell him that he was full of himself, but the sincerity of his gaze stopped her.

"I get that you rescued me and all, but I don't think we are close enough for that to happen. " She snorted, trying to relieve the tension.

His cheeks burned red from embarrassment. "You misunderstand me. You can have my room until we find you a way home. Besides, you're already familiar with my quarters," he added sheepishly.

"You mean this entire time I was sleeping in your bed?!" Emma was taken aback. No one had given up anything for her before, except this stranger.

He scratched behind his ear again, eyes looking everywhere except at her. Emma was starting to figure out that was a nervous tick of his.

"Aye," he answered, gauging her reaction.

Emma decided that finding a friend in this man wouldn't hurt. He already had stuck with her throughout this entire ordeal. She had to be the better person. "I apologize for my behavior. I'm guessing it has been off-putting. The name is Emma." She held out her hand to him.

He stared at her offered hand and looked back at her in confusion. Emma guessed he was gauging whether she was being genuine. He took her offered hand, and her heart almost stopped at the brilliant smile he gave her.

"Killian Jones at your service," he introduced, eyes twinkling. He brought her hand to his mouth, placing a gentle kiss upon it. "I hope you call my name if you need anything, Emma."

Weeks had passed. Eventually, all of Emma's crying in solitude ceased. She realized being emotional about her situation wouldn't get her home. The best she could do was make the most out of her situation while she looked for a solution-if there was a solution. Luckily, the captain allowed her to do some work on the ship as long as it wasn't too strenuous.

Using her forearm, she wiped the sweat from her brow. The day was particularly hot as she scrubbed the deck with a hand-sized brush. A shadow loomed over her. Looking up, she was greeted with a smirking Killian. He seemed to follow her around the ship, watching over her well-being. Seeing him while she worked was no surprise. She huffed as she continued her work, earning a laugh from the lieutenant.

"The crew said you've been helping with the chores," he observed, leaning against the mast as she continued her scrubbing.

"I have to occupy my time. Otherwise, I'll go crazy." She grunted in confirmation, scrubbing extra hard on a stubborn spot. I'm not used to having so much time at my disposal." She finished, putting the brush down in defeat. It was probably best that she took a break since she had been cleaning for hours. She approached him and sat down on the spot beside him, massaging the strain of her right arm with her left hand.

He sat down quietly next to her. The silence was not unbearable. His reason for why he was keeping her company was his own. She shrugged at the thought, bringing a cup of water to her mouth. " How do you usually occupy your time?"

Emma almost choked on her water. What kind of question was that?

"Wouldn't you like to know?" She almost winced when she realized that she was flirting with him. She hoped he didn't notice.

"I want to know all about you, Emma," he answered sincerely, if he noticed her flirting he didn't show. He was leaning too close for comfort and the smolder in his gaze was unsettling her. Emma tore her gaze from him and swallowed nervously. She never was in this sort of situation before.

"The captain and you seem close." Emma changed the subject, not missing the disappointment in his eyes.

"He is my brother." He revealed with pride. Emma could tell that he loved his brother deeply and could talk about him for days if she asked.

"What are the odds that you both ended up on the same ship?" Emma observed.

"The circumstances weren't happy." She noticed he was as guarded with his emotions as she was.

"Have you…"He began, trying to find the right words. She could tell he was hesitating in asking the question, and he almost looked tense. "thought about going back?" He finished, gauging her reaction. He always stared into her eyes when he talked to her as though he was trying to read her. She wasn't sure what he was expecting by asking her the question.

She looked at the sky and sighed. She already accepted the fact that she might not go home. There was nothing really waiting for her back home anyway. Not that she minded. The crew grew on her and Killian was starting to as well. "I can tell I am stuck in the past. I even asked Liam about it. Since this year is in the 1700's, I am three hundred years in the past. I think I need to give you your room back since you will be stuck with me for a while," she teased, earning a genuine smile from her companion.

"If you stay in this realm, I promise you I will stay with you always." Her superpower didn't pick up on the lie. Still, she had to put him in his place.

"Don't make promises you can't keep," she warned. If she was going to interact with Killian in the near future, she wanted to let him know that he better be straight with her. She hated being disappointed. It was only fair to let him know.

"Why are you so distrustful?" Emma had to turn away from the look of hurt in his eyes. She didn't know why he was taking her statement personally. He honestly looked offended.

"I had a life of awfully bad experiences…" She wanted to end there, but she managed to blurt out her resentment that she carried with her for years. "It all started when my parents abandoned me on the side of the road."

She didn't know why she was bearing her soul out to a total stranger. There was something about Killian that made her able to open up to him-to trust him.

"We're alike. You asked about the circumstance that I became a lieutenant. Our father abandoned us. Liam came back and raised me."

"You look up to him don't you?" She asked with interest. She could see how much he looked up to his brother.

"Aye." His lips were upturned slightly as he continued. "Without him, I would be lost." He stared at the sky wistfully. Emma was sure he was reminiscing about his life and the role Liam played.

"It seems like even though time orphans exist. I don't know what to do with my life," she mused. What would she do in this time? She knew nothing about this world and how it operated.

"It took the right person to help guide me. Maybe, the same will go for you." He threw her a knowing look. She was almost taken aback from his words. His optimism was so strong that he believed he could change her viewpoint of the world and find her purpose. Was this man serious?

"Let me guess, you?" She scoffed at this man's audacity.

"I hope so," he answered, lacing his fingers in-between hers. She watched as his thumb traced soothing circles on the back of her hand. The question was: did she want this and did she trust him enough?

"Wow, you are direct. Guys in my realm chicken out and expect me to figure out what goes on in their heads," she joked,feeling slightly uncomfortably. This whole conversation was veering into uncomfortable territory.

"The men in your realm appear to be fools. They don't know real beauty, nor do they appreciate the warmth of your smile." She could feel her face flushing at his compliment.

"Please," She snorted, looking at him lazily." I had to worry about myself before I got courted. There was no one worth my time. Sorry, I sound shallow but I don't hold anything back." She answered honestly, earning a smile of appreciation from Killian.

"I appreciate your honesty. This is one less potential wall I have to break down," he said, looking at her with warmth.

"You aren't going to let this go," she said under her breath. Never in her life had she met anyone willing to get to know her or fight for her. She was reeling from the revelation.

"I would be a fool to let you go." His words made her speechless. His unwavering gaze showed her he was dead serious. Then she remembered that in Regency, England the men were quick to court. The question was: did she want to trust him enough to let him in?

"Keep dreaming, buddy." She laughed, blowing the hair away from her eyes with her mouth.

"One day,"-Killian began, curling the strand of loose hair that kept on getting in her eyes with his index finger. Her breath hitched at the gesture- "I hope you will trust me enough to protect your heart." After his declaration, he tucked the lock of hair behind her ear.

"Maybe," She said, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. Perhaps, one day she will trust him enough to protect her heart.