Killian POV
The lass looked at him as though he was a god. The tears in her eyes merely confirmed it for him, and she stood there, open-mouthed, in awe of him. Killian thought it was the oddest thing, but he let it pass for the moment. He assumed that her shock was due to his exceptional good looks, and he took the opportunity to really look at her.
She wore blood red leather breeches with knee-high leather boots. Her shirt was black, and over it she wore a black leather jacket with the same color blood red stripes running up and down the sides. Her piercing blue eyes stood out against her black hair and pale skin, but it was her chin that drew his attention. There was something about it…
The next instant, her body straightened suddenly, and she was released from her daze. Here eyes flashed rapidly to his and widened. She was nervous, and he could understand why. He would have been nervous, as well, if someone had a sword to his throat.
"I was just looking, sir. Pardon if I upset you. It was bad form," she said with more confidence than she appeared to have.
He became abruptly aware of a feeling of familiarity. He squinted his eyes at her, taking a closer look. "Do I know you?" Hook asked.
"No, you would remember this face it you had," she answered smoothly.
He titled his head to the side and nodded. "Yes, I suppose you're right," he said, but he could not shake the feeling.
His response must have given her reassurance because she continued. "I've been on a ship, similar to this one, and I was curious," she said as a means of explanation. "I noticed that your foremast is the same height as your mainmast."
"Aye. That it is," he confirmed suspiciously. This lass had some knowledge about ships, and she was anxious to let him know. That only increased the unrest churning in his stomach. His instincts were telling him that something was off about her.
He watched as her gaze lifted to the mast she had just spoke of, and then, it followed the sails until she was looking at the sky. The moment was brief, but he caught the sudden terror in her eyes as she stared at the sunset and swung her head to look at the mountain behind her.
"It's almost dusk," she stated, worried, and looked back at him. "We must go," she commanded and pushed away from his sword.
Although he felt her alarm to be true, he could not risk it being a trick. He brought his sword back to her neck, this time pressing the hard steel into the vein. "Not so fast."
The look that she gave him almost made him regret the decision. In her eyes, he saw pain and betrayal, as if she could not believe what he was doing. It was enough to make him reconsider his actions but not enough to delineate. He pressed the steel harder until he saw a trickle of blood run down her neck.
"Who are you?" he asked, approaching her and tilting her chin up with his hook.
She swallowed nervously and repeated her previous sentiment. "We must go." Her attention returned to the sun. "It's coming any moment now."
"Tell me who you are," he demanded, ignoring her frightened expression.
"Hook!" a voice called out behind him.
He rolled his eyes, immediately recognizing the disapproving tone. "Swan. I'm in the middle of something, love."
"Let her go," Emma replied, disregarding his half-assed attempt at dismissing her.
He sighed and released the girl from his grasp, slowly and pointedly removing the sword from her neck.
She blinked a few times and hesitated before stepping away from him, unsure if he was actually releasing her. He arched his eyebrow at her and spread his arms, gesturing his honesty.
The girl gave him a disappointed glare and grabbed her neck, feeling her wound. At the same time, he heard Emma's boots approach where they were standing. The girl peeked around him, and he saw the same shocked expression on her face as when she first saw him. She hid her reaction just as quickly, though, with pursed lips and a determined stare. Her head turned back to the sunset and to the mountain, and she tried breaking for a run.
Emma caught her before she had even gone a foot. The two struggled, the girl more hysterical than before, claiming that they had to get to shelter before the monster came. It took a few moments, but when the sun finally set, the girl stopped struggling. Emma pushed her back a few steps, away from the ramp, and looked furious.
"What the hell was that about?" she shouted at the girl.
She looked confused and stunned that whatever she thought was going to happen, did not. "It- it- it was supposed to come. It's dusk. I don't understand," she babbled, staring at the mountain again.
"Look, kid. I don't know whatever monster you think is coming, but I can assure you, it's not." Emma said.
"But it's supposed to come out at night. From the mountain over there," she insisted and pointed toward said mountain.
Emma looked to him for support.
Killian caught his cue and continued Emma's stand. "Swan's right. No such creature exists here, lass. Are you sure you know where you are?"
"Yes," she spat impatiently. "Storybrooke. I'm supposed to be here."
He and Emma exchanged glances. "Why are you supposed to be here in Storybrooke?" Emma asked.
"Because I have to-" the girl began before realizing what she was saying and closed her mouth immediately.
"Did someone send you here?" Emma continued her line of questioning. "Does it have to do with this monster? What are you supposed to do?"
The girl shook her head. "I have to go," she announced and tried to stride away.
Emma grabbed her arm. "Oh, no you don't. First, you have to get that neck checked out, and then you're going to explain to me what's going on."
"I don't have to do anything Mo-" she paused, "Ma'am. I didn't do anything wrong, and you don't control me. Nobody does."
Killian had to give the girl credit. She had defiance in her and a sense of purpose that he was surprised to see in someone her age. Unfortunately, he was not going to let that admiration cloud his judgment. "Actually, Sherriff, she did break the law. She trespassed on my ship."
"And you stuck me with your sword," the girl countered. "I could sue you for assault and the intentional infliction of emotional distress," she replied smartly.
"Okay, enough!" Emma ordered. "Neither one of you is suing the other." She sighed. "What's your name?"
The girl crossed her arms and shook her head in a very childish fashion, not saying a word.
"She didn't answer when I asked either!" Killian chimed, glad that someone else was privy to her stubbornness.
Emma scowled at him and diverted her attention back to the girl. "It's just a name. I'm not asking for much."
"Look, as much as I'd love to tell you, I can't. So unless you're going to arrest me, I have somewhere to be," she answered.
He watched as Emma glanced over her face, trying to pick up a nervous tick or a tense jaw, anything to uncover a lie. She must not have found one because a moment later, she stepped aside to let the girl pass.
"You're just going to let her go?" he asked Emma incredulously after the girl had stepped off the boat.
Emma nodded. "Yes, I am letting her go," she smirked and turned around, "So I can follow her."
Killian followed Emma's lead as she trailed the girl. He could not see her face, but he could imagine the determined look on her face to figure out the girl's intentions. Emma was very good at that, he noticed. She saw the panic in the girl's eyes and let her go, only to follow her after. It was brilliant.
As he thought about the girl, that odd feeling of familiarity crept back into him. There was something about her that he could not put his finger on.
"Swan," he whispered to get her attention.
"Sh!"
"I have a striking notion that this girl reminds me of someone," he suggested. "Does she remind you of anyone?" When Emma didn't answer, he proceeded to talk. "There's something about her demeanor, what she says, or more of a way of being. It's as if she's-"
"You," Emma interjected.
"I what, love?"
"It's as if she's you," Emma replied and turned to look at him pointedly.
"Me?" he asked, genuinely confused. "What would give you that idea?"
"She looks like you. She dresses like you. What more proof do you need?" He watched as Emma's jaw clenched, and she turned back to observe the girl. "Are you sure you don't have a long lost daughter?" she asked quite sourly.
Her jealousy put a big smile on his face. "If I did, I fancy she would take after me." He looked at Emma's shoulders tense, and his grin became wider. "However, I can say with certainty that I don't have a daughter."
Emma glanced back around at him before motioning him to keep moving. He supposed that she was finished with the conversation.
They followed the girl to the corner of the library and watched her turn to continue down the side street. They were about a hundred paces behind, so when they approached the corner and turned, they expected to see her at the end of the building.
She was gone.