Chapter Three: Scratching the Surface

Despite herself, Emma finds that she wants to hear what Killian Jones has to say. She wants to listen to that lulling voice as it rises and falls, calming her inside, even with the rough start they got off to. There is no way she can actively be in contention with him if she is going to have to trust Jones and his partner with her own – and more importantly, Henry's – life.

She lets herself float in those gorgeous cerulean orbs when he turns them on her, earnest now instead of condescending. It isn't so much that she is being taken in romantically, as that she is allowing to herself see the man's obvious good qualities, where before she had been trying to steel herself against every one of them that came to her notice. It's easy to smile at him encouragingly, now that her anger and adrenaline have waned and he is not trying to provoke her.

His voice is soft and low when he finally asks her, "You didn't even know he was an informant, did you?" The look is kind and understanding now, so different from how she had found him to be earlier that day, and though Emma doesn't know how he can seemingly understand so easily, she can't help feeling relieved.

She shakes her head sadly, not sure how else to sum up the loss but to swallow the tears rising in her throat and burning the back of her eyes and answer simply. "No, I didn't. I knew he wanted out of his job at the casino. He felt we should have Henry in a more stable environment…I agreed with him, but – idiot that I am – I was proud of my position. I liked being respected in my job. It was the first time I had ever been financially stable, supporting myself well… I didn't realize he had round another way with telling me... I was completely in the dark. I keep asking myself how….how I could have been so blind." She blinks rapidly, swiping a hand under her eyes and averting her glance from his searching eyes.

Agent Jones lets his face truly soften for a moment. Reaching out, he looks as if he intends to touch her chin and raise her face to his, but then thinks better of it and pulls back again. Instead, he speaks gently, in a voice barely audible. "He must have thought he was taking his best chance, Swan," Jones murmurs, making her lean closer so as not to miss his words. "Surely he believed he was protecting both you and Henry."

"But not himself." Emma shakes her head, her voice sadly bitter. "I would rather have him alive and still with us than his being heroic, knowing he didn't trust me with his secrets."

Agent Jones matches her stare, making sure she takes in every word his says next. "Listen to me, Lass. He was right to keep you out of it. These people are ruthless. They must be stopped. For all the suffering, pain, and villainy they have committed for years." Here he pauses, drawing in a ragged breath and swallowing hard in a way that immediately causes Emma to suspect some emotion she doesn't yet understand. "Believe me, I know…more than you think. I am sorry for your loss. However, I cannot regret the courage your love showed. Were more people to stand up to them as he did, we could finally put a stop to their tyranny."

Emma sucks in a breath in pained surprise. She doesn't doubt suddenly that he has lost someone or something he loved to these monsters too. Strains of curiosity stir within her, but the weary sadness still holds most sway. "I'm glad you appreciate his bravery," she finally manages, bringing the conversation to a stop as the pilot announces their impending arrival, "but it doesn't make him any less dead. Because he tried to stop them alone, he's gone."

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Once the plane taxies down the runway, comes to a stop, and they disembark, their little foursome is met by Ruby and Killian's superior, Supervisory Special Agent David Nolan. The sandy haired man greets Emma and Henry with a paternal air, thanking her sincerely for her aid and cooperation in the case and assuring her that she is in the best of hands with his two most trusted agents. Emma doesn't know why – it's usually difficult for her to feel at ease or trust new people – but this man somehow seems both familiar and likable from the first moment. Henry grins up at him widely, missing teeth and adorable dimples on display, and immediately asks Agent Nolan if he can see his badge, if he can sit in front with him, and several other questions all in one long, uninterrupted stream.

Emma is a bit nonplussed for a second, wondering why her son is so guilelessly unafraid of strangers all of a sudden. Then, she realizes with a start that everyone Henry has met today has been there to help him and become utterly entranced by him. Her kid is definitely smart enough to see that Agent Nolan is no exception. Plus, Henry is good with people – much better than she's ever been. He probably feels the same safe ease around this man that she does, strange as it seems.

It flashes painfully into Emma's thoughts once more that Henry's sensitivity, his intuitive understanding of others, is something she has often attributed to Graham's influence. Though the caring, doting man Henry quickly took to calling Papa was not his biological father, Henry had been glued to her chosen man from the moment Graham had entered his life at about two years old. She shakes that thought from her head, resuming her pace as their little group crosses the tarmac to a dark Bureau SUV with tinted windows. Henry babbles excitedly to his new friends all the while.

The heavy humidity hangs in the air, heat almost so alive as to waver in visible lines before her eyes, making Emma wonder where they have landed. An almost sweet, floral scent perfumes the air, and as they pull out of the airport onto a main road, Emma sees flowering trees and bushes, and water further out. She guesses they are somewhere in the southern part of the East Coast, but can't pick a city. She is too desirous for control over some part of her situation not to ask. "So, now that we're here, can you tell us where you've picked for our new home?" She tries to ask the question brightly and make the best of completely losing all say, more unnerved than she would like to admit.

Agent Nolan chuckles good naturedly from the driver's seat in front of her and answers her honestly. "We're in Georgia," he fills her in. "Right now, we're leaving downtown Savannah, but eventually we'll be settling you in a nice little Southern town called Vidalia, a little farther into the state from the coast. We'll have you in hotels here and there for a few days, making sure nothing seems fishy and that we haven't picked up any tails. Then we'll get you to your final destination. We also have to wait on your new id cards, license, and the like, and work out some new particulars of appearance just to be sure you aren't immediately recognizable to those who are be looking." He meets Emma's gaze head on for just a second in the rearview mirror, sparing her a fleeting smile that is both decisive and apologetic – an odd balance to master.

More questions and protests run through her head at the knowledge. Changes in appearance? Georgia? But she sees no need to argue at this point. It won't do any good; it's was too late to turn back, and if nothing else, she can't help being a bit grateful to find she is now on the opposite side of the country from the man who took Graham's life.

By the time they reach the Hampton Inn the Bureau is putting the four of them up in for the night, Emma finds that she's almost beyond coherent thought and worry. She has so much to process, is so off balance, and more than anything exhausted from lack of sleep and long-drained adrenaline, that her head is spinning and her vision is blurry. As they pull into the valet parking, their sparse belongings are gathered by Killian and Ruby, and Emma moves to take Henry from the front seat and lets them escort her in. Agent Nolan reaches across to place a supportive hand on her shoulder. "Things look bleak now," he says in a warm, caring voice, "but they will get better. Hang in there."

She merely nods in response, biting her lip to hold the reaction in check. Then she lifts Henry into her arms and heads into the building between her two appointed protectors.

As they walk through the entryway, Emma stumbles sleepily, her toe catching on the doorframe that rises slightly from the floor. A startled gasp barely escapes, her reflexes slow and Henry throwing her off balance, when two firm hands grip her upper arms, bracing and steadying her before she can fall. She lets out a quick exhalation of relief and brings her eyes up to meet the concerned blues of Killian Jones.

He studies her carefully, the intention in his grip almost seeming to pull her closer instead of let go. "Alright there, Swan?" he asks gently, obviously intending to make sure she has her bearings.

"Yeah, thanks for the catch," she responds with a fleeting smile, feeling more than a bit breathless all-in-all.

"Glad I was there," he shrugs simply, as if he hasn't done anything much.

Emma is surprised to feel a blush growing across her cheeks and down her neck at both her clumsiness and her startling reaction to his proximity. On first meeting, she hated him, but all her reactions and emotions have been so up and down since then that she is gradually realizing she judged him too quickly. She smiles again sheepishly before ducking her head and following after Ruby, letting Killian hold the door for them.

They enter the elevators discreetly and ride up to a secure floor with limited access. By the time they find their adjoining rooms – Killian will take one, and Emma, Ruby, and Henry will be in the other – Emma is nearly asleep on her feet, the room swimming in front of her eyes dizzily.

"Tell you what," Ruby says brightly, taking Henry from her before she can protest. "Why don't you go in the bathroom, wash up, get out your pajamas and change, while I go through Henry's bag, find his things, and get him ready? You look about half-conscious – no offense."

Emma simply agrees with the arrangement, too tired to do anything else and takes her leave, smiling fondly as Ruby playfully asks Henry questions and Henry answers her between yawns, beaming up at his new buddy adoringly. She is in the bathroom for only a few minutes, slipping into a silky tank and shorts combo, pulling her hair back loosely and washing her face. The shadows under her eyes remind her just how desperately she needs to get some rest.

Stepping back into the main room, she's startled to nearly walk right into Jones's half-bare chest. Catching her by the shoulders, he holds her out at arm's length, cheekily adding "We must stop meeting this way."

His words coax a laugh from her, small but still hopeful, and she tries not to let it be cut off by her mouth going dry at the enticing sight before her of him in sweats and a V-neck white undershirt showing off coarse, thick dark hair disappearing into the collar and a well-muscled chest. She berates herself for even noticing, but it doesn't make the awareness go away.

Killian releases her and takes a step back, gives a nervous chuckle before raking a hand haphazardly through his shock of thick, black hair. It's a tell of uncertainty and doubt that she can't help but find endearing. When he meets her curious gaze, all he says is, "I just wanted to remind you that I am right next door. Ruby is more than capable, but still…if you hear anything, see anything, if anything seems at all amiss or strange…let us know." He reaches out hesitantly, tucking one escaped strand of hair out of her face and back over her shoulder. "We'll take care of you and your boy, Swan. I swear it."

She holds his gaze, seeing the truth in the depths of his blue eyes and wanting to thank him but not finding the right words. She finally settles on, "I believe you…and as you get to know me, you'll find that means a lot."

He slips back out the door and into his own room, Emma pads barefoot to her bed, smiling fondly at Henry already asleep on his side of their shared mattress. She crawls in beneath the covers next to him and hears Ruby mumble "goodnight" softly from the other side of the room. Returning the wish, Emma thinks confusedly before long-overdue rest claims her that though horrible things have swept her up in the last 24 hours, this night has not ended as terribly as she feared.

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Agent Killian Jones lies awake for hours that night, tossing fitfully and punching the pillows, blinking into the darkness, but unable to get comfortable or find any rest. Emma Swan and her boy, and their whole awful situation, bring ghosts floating to the surface from the depths of his painful memories. Things he does not wish to dwell on anymore. These criminals – monsters, more accurately – have already stolen what little joy, what few connections he had in this world years ago. He had made the decision not to wallow in self-pity or let himself become crippled by grief, but as time had worn on and the syndicate had continued to slip through their hands, it sometimes felt as though all that was left inside him was the unflagging desire for justice and, if he were honest with himself, the all-consuming need for vengeance. It was a lonely road he had chosen; he knew that he kept others from knowing him well, held them at arm's length. If it were not for Ruby and Dave, he wouldn't have anyone close to him at all beyond casual acquaintances and interchangeable co-workers. He put on a fairly good show of being outgoing, jovial and flirtatious (when it served his purpose), but beneath the surface he had been a hard, aching void for far too long.

Something long forgotten, something achingly human had sparked to life in his numbed soul when he and Ruby had walked into that empty room in the Vegas P.D. and Emma Swan's head of golden hair snapped up to stare back at them, vivid green eyes flashing and ready for a fight. It had almost stolen his breath, that first glimpse of her, and he'd had to steal himself against the visceral reaction as if he were a green lad seeing his first pretty lass.

Killian had been angry with himself for letting a beautiful face distract him – even for a moment – from what really mattered. Emma Swan was giving them their first solid, traceable lead in nearly a year. They would be able to go after the Gold-Mills ring again in earnest. The fact that she had balked, had been hesitant to help them, the very idea of this chance dissolving, had made the tension in him snap, and he had shown utterly poor form taking his anger out of the woman. Clearly, she only wanted to do right by her little boy, and she had just seen her lover murdered in cold blood – the empathy he felt at that was a red hot lance through his chest. Of course she had doubts. That he had pushed her, purposefully frightened her more to gain her cooperation, made heat bloom across his face in shame. Even now in the privacy of his darkened hotel room, Killian could still feel the need to hide the incriminating flush of his skin.

He was lucky Ruby had been there to smooth things over, lucky that Dave had not been, or he might have been yanked from the case by now. Mostly though, he was lucky that this Emma Swan had accepted his honest apology, agreed to be their witness, and let the two of them start over. Unbidden, her face appeared behind his eyes, the ramrod straightness of what must be a steel spine beneath her weary, troubled exterior as she had finally agreed to testify and accept their protection. There was a resigned melancholy to her face as well, which he knew from her file came from the crummy hand life had already dealt her even before this latest blow. Yet, there was an indomitable sparkle to her eyes in fleeting moments, an enchanting dimple in her cheeks when she smiled as she had after he'd righted her and kept her from falling in the lobby this evening.

This woman elicits feelings he can't afford to acknowledge or explore, that he believed himself incapable of ever holding again. Turning with a frustrated sigh, he buries his head once more in the pillow, seeking sleep, but Killian Jones knows one thing for sure. This time they are going to catch Robert Gold, his shadowy accomplice known only as the "Queen of Hearts", and the rest of their lackeys. He will fight through hell and high water to see their horrible reign finally ended. Emma Swan and her boy will not go the way of past victims. He will protect them and see that they survive to gain a new life after this nightmare. It is his job, his duty, but more than that too. He wants to finally have a life of his own – something to hold onto besides the phantoms of the past, all he has lost, and the empty quest for absolution. After all, as Liam had often said to him and he repeats to himself now whenever his strength flags, a man unwilling to fight for what he wants, deserves what he gets. He deserves more than he has been living with all these years, and he is done settling for half a life.