"I thought I would find you here."
Killian's head jerked up in surprise. Apparently, he had been so lost in his thoughts that he hadn't even noticed Emma was walking towards him until she was actually sitting on the bench next to him.
"Sorry, didn't mean to startle you," she said, nervously tucking a piece of hair behind her ear.
Killian gave her a reassuring smile - "It's OK." - and turned back to stare at a fisherman on the dock. He was tall and tanned, likely a result of spending day after day on the deck of a fishing vessel. But on this particular day he was in port, taking lobster traps off his boat to get them ready for the next outing and patching spots in his nets that were unraveling. Killian had watched him earlier actually get in the water to scrub the algae off the side of his boat.
It all felt a little strange for him because it felt so familiar. It was like deja vu - as if he had seen this man do these things before. He just couldn't remember where. Of course, that could all be explained by Henry's theory, but there was no way the lad could be right about a curse.
"Jones?" Emma asked.
"Oh, sorry," he replied. "I got lost in my thoughts."
Emma gave him a strange sideways glance. "Are you alright?"
"Yea, yea, I'm fine," Killian said, trying to reassure her as well as himself. "Um, do you know who that guy is? The fisherman down there with the prosthetic hand?"
Emma turned towards the dock and did this little squint thing that Killian always found so endearing. "Eddie Morgan," she said. "You can tell what he was fishing for on a given day based on the special at this seafood restaurant on Main St."
Killian smiled at her. "Really?"
"Yea. I had lobster there last week when Mary Margaret and I went out on a girls' night. Little butter, baked potato, a bottle of wine."
"A bottle of wine?" he asked. "Between the two of you?"
Emma laughed at him. "It was a Friday night! That makes it totally acceptable."
"It does?"
She smiled before starting to fidget with her hands in her lap. "I'll take you there sometime," she said quietly. "You would like it."
He looked at her with a small but genuine smile. "Perhaps I would."
Killian took a deep breath, trying to control himself. He wanted so much to just touch her hands and tell her how much he wished they could start over. But of course, it was easier said than done. For them, starting over would take much more than holding hands on a park bench. There was just too much that had happened, for better or worse, in their decade apart.
Emma cleared her throat to break the uncomfortable silence that was falling between them. "So, what's with your interest in Eddie?"
Now it was Killian's turn to fidget and try to deflect. "I'm just sizing up the competition," he said sarcastically.
Emma gave him an inquisitive look. "You're lying."
This woman and her lie detection abilities helped them out of many tight spots before, but it was always better when it was directed at someone else. "You know, I never liked when you were able to turn that power of yours on me."
"And now you're avoiding the question."
"Bloody hell, Swan!" he said flippantly, eliciting a laugh from his park bench companion.
"Spill it, Jones!" she said teasingly.
Killian gave her a smile, but when he turned to look at her, he couldn't help but feel it fall off his face. Here was Emma. She was Henry's mother. She would understand, right? She probably had similar thoughts about their son and his book of fairy tales. Maybe?
Of course, asking about the curse would bring up other issues about his love for her, but that conversation was not one he wanted to have less than 24 hours after seeing her in a decade and finding out they had a son.
"It's just …" He didn't know where to begin or how to explain all of this to her because he was having trouble understanding it himself. He looked back over at Eddie baiting the lobster traps on the dock, too afraid to see Emma's face. "Do you think Henry is telling the truth about the curse? I mean, do you believe it could be real?"
He turned to see Emma giving him a surprised look. "I think our son is going through a weird time right now and has found some comfort in fairy tales. You know, kids and their imagination."
"Yea," he replied, a small scoff falling from his lips.
"Do you believe him?" she asked.
If Killian was being honest, he wanted so desperately to have the lad be right. Emma would be his true love and he would have his son and his father and everything would be good. He would be happy. But he was hanging his happiness on a 10-year-old kid he met yesterday and a crazy idea.
"You do believe him, don't you?" Emma asked bluntly.
"I don't know. It would be kind of brilliant, you know?" He took a deep breath, hoping that he wouldn't sound as crazy as the kid. "I mean, Henry thinks my father is Captain Hook."
He could hear Emma begin to laugh next to him. "Captain Hook?" she said with amusement her voice. "He wasn't even a fairy tale character!" She shrugged and tucked her hair behind her ear again. "So he thinks you're the son of a pirate who enjoyed stealing? Well, I guess like father, like son."
"I guess," he replied, not meaning to have his answer sound so serious. "It's just a crazy idea from a kid. But I've been sitting here watching people walk around all day and then I spotted that guy," he said, pointing to Eddie the fisherman. He took a deep breath as he continued to stare at the dock and the man standing there. "He'll do this thing and then this doubt will creep into my mind. Like earlier, he turned around quickly and for a second, I thought he looked a little like Liam. Or I'll see him look up and think his eyes look like mine." Killian scratched behind his ear nervously. "And he did that too!"
"What?"
"Scratched his ear like I do!" Killian took a breath to compose himself. "You know how it is, Swan. When you grow up after being abandoned, you still have those moments when you let yourself hope."
Emma put her hand on his arm and gave it a squeeze. "I know," she said quietly, taking a deep breath. "But that doesn't mean your father is Captain Hook," she added teasingly.
He smiled, enjoying the mocking tone she was taking with him. It was definitely better than what he expected from her at this point given all that had transpired in the past 24 hours. It felt so normal and natural, as if they were falling back into who they were a decade ago. It was just too bad they couldn't be those people again.
"So listen," she said, pulling her hand away from his arm. "Henry gets out of school at three o'clock and I'm meeting him there. We were going to get some ice cream before he has to head back to Regina's for the night. Uh…" He could tell Emma was trying to choose her next words carefully before they came rushing out of her mouth in one quick sentence. "Would you like to come with us?"
He tried to steady his breathing, his heart simultaneously breaking for what they could've had and swelling with the idea that they could be together - if only for a brief moment on an early September afternoon. "I would like that," he replied, a tight but hopeful smile teasing at his lips.
"Good," she said, matching her smile with his. "It'll be good." He nodded and watched as she stood up and stared back down at him. "Just be careful out here, OK?"
"I will," he replied earnestly.
"I'm serious," she chided. "I don't want to have to fill out all that paperwork when Eddie files a restraining order against the stranger in town who keeps staring at him."
"I'll keep my distance, Swan."
"And promise me you won't get your heart broken when you find out Captain Hook isn't your dad."
"Only if you promise to bring me an eye patch and a peg leg for comfort."
She gave him a skeptical look. "Captain Hook had neither of those," she said, turning to walk back to her sheriff's cruiser. "And I'm not getting you a hook for your hand!" she yelled over her shoulder.
"I'll see you at three!" he yelled back at her. "You better have my eye patch!"
He could hear her laugh as she walked away and watched her climb into her car, giving her a polite wave before she closed the door.
Then he turned back to stare at the fisherman on the dock some more. If he just stayed here, practically out of the way on the bench, the fisherman would have no idea that Killian was continuing to stare at him for just a brief glance, a brief hope that perhaps his father hadn't really abandoned him. Perhaps he just forgot who he truly was and had never intended to leave Killian and his brother alone.
Or perhaps Emma was right and he was going to get his heart broken pinning his hopes on a curse and some random fisherman in Maine.