Disclaimer: Reluctantly I have to admit that I don't own these characters. They are property of others far luckier than myself.
I must give my beta her due. Thank you Lori2279 for all your hard work.
Thank you for to everyone else reading and reviewing. I appreciate the feedback.
On with the show ~ Enjoy.
"Can I help you find something, Sweetheart?" a sailor looked Emma up and down with a leering gaze as she wandered the docks looking for her pirate, "Perhaps where to get a drink? I'd be happy to buy your first."
"You're a long ways from the first to make that offer, Buddy," Emma rolled her eyes, "But perhaps you could help with something. I'm looking for a friend of mine. He came to town looking to barter for a sailboat. Do you know of anyone in the market to sell?"
"I think Old Man Hallstrom was looking to unload his dump of a boat," the young sailor responded after a moment of thought, "The man is a relic, if you ask me. Still uses one of those old fashioned sailboat. Slows a man way down."
"Where can I find this Mister Hallstrom?" Emma asked eagerly. This sailor sounded just like the man she would be looking for.
"Try Slip 43," the sailor responded, "If he's not there, he's probably at The Rusty Anchor or passed out drunk in the alley behind it."
"Okay, thanks," Emma nodded as she tried to get the lay of the land before setting off on her mission. There was a boat docked at Slip 43, but it couldn't have been the ship she was looking for. Fortunately the boat's owner told her that he'd just rented the slip when it became vacant the previous day. He also suggested that she'd be able to locate the previous tenant in the bar the first sailor mentioned.
"Can I help you?" the bartender of the seedy dive bar Emma stepped into greeted her.
"Yes, I'm looking for this man," Emma pulled out her phone and showed him her most recent picture of Killian, "Has he come in here?"
"You a cop?" the bartender looked her up and down.
"I'm a friend," Emma figured the best course of action was to not get on this guy's bad side. Lawmen didn't seem welcome in this current establishment. "He came to town a few days ago, and I haven't heard from him since. I'm worried about him."
"You his lady?" the bartender inquired.
"Yes, I'm his lady," Emma confirmed, "Like I said, I'm worried about him."
"Haven't seen him," the bartender glanced at the photo again and then responded.
"If you do see him, here's my number," Emma quickly wrote down her cell number, "Either call me or tell him to call Emma." She quickly tossed the bartender a few dollars for the little information he had and hopes that the promise of more money to come would loosen his tongue before she turned to leave. "Wait, do you know Old Man Hallstrom?"
"What you want with him, Sweetheart?" a man on one of the stools inquired.
"I think my friend came to town to negotiate terms on a sailboat with him," Emma responded as she held up Killian's photo to this new man, "Do you know where I can find this Hallstrom?"
"I'm Old Man Hallstrom," the red-faced pudgy man offered her his hand.
"Do you recognize this man?" Emma's heart began to hammer in anticipation. She hoped she was on the right track. She didn't want to waste time, especially if something had happened to Killian.
"Aye," the man nodded, "That's the fellow I sold my ship to two days ago. Bartered something fierce. Haven't negotiating that hard since I was a young lad just starting out, but the terms were fair."
"Do you know where he is or where he went?"
"He wanted everything done real official," Old Man Hallstrom responded, "We went to the registry office and changed the title and port of registry. We then had a few drinks and a meal in which we talked over my Mabel's quirks."
"Mabel is the name of your ship?" Emma asked.
"Was the name of my ship," Old Man Hallstrom amended, "He wanted the name changed straight away. He gave it some floffy name, said it was after his lady. He seemed quite attached to her. Talked about her with a twinkle in his eye. If you're that lady like you say, you're a lucky woman."
"After your meal, do you know where he went?" Emma tried to hide the blush that flushed her cheek.
"Well, I had a few too many so things are a bit fuzzy," Old Man Hallstrom scratched at his temple, "I remember getting into a bit of a tussle with a few of the younger fellas on the docks. Think your fella's phone ended up broken or in the water. He wasn't happy about it. Pinned one of the guys against the wall fer it. The young lad almost pissed himself in fear as that hook of your fella's came under his chin. Your fella 'as a bit of a temper."
"I'm well aware," Emma rolled her eyes. At least now she knew why he hadn't checked in with her or returned any of her calls.
"Think he checked into one of the motels," Hallstrom stated after a few moments of thought, "Said it was too late to sail out in an unfamiliar vessel…he talked weird. We sailors are used to accents, but he seemed from a different place altogether."
"Buddy, you don't know the half of it," Emma snorted, "Is there anything else you can tell me? The name of the motel, perhaps?"
"Most of the out of town sailors usually bunk up at the Mermaid's Inn," the bartender stated, "You might want to start there."
"Thanks," Emma nodded as she pocketed her phone and set more money on the counter, "I want to buy Mister Hallstrom a few rounds."
"Thank you kindly," Old Man Hallstrom tipped his cap to her, "Hope you find your fella."
Emma nodded in gratitude and then left. It took her a few minutes to get her bearings, but she found the Mermaid's Inn with little trouble. It looked as if the inn had seen better days, but she figured that the sailors that frequented the establishment weren't too particular about their surroundings, considering the accommodations onboard most ships were likely worse.
"Can I help you?" the matronly woman at the desk inquired.
"Yes," Emma replied as she pulled out her phone, "I'm looking for some information. Has this man checked in recently? Say within the past two days?"
"You a cop?" the woman asked.
"I am, but I'm not here on any official business," Emma replied.
"Too bad," the woman responded, "I need to know what to do with his belongings. He just left them here. I was hoping to return them. He was such a pleasant man, very easy on the eyes, if you catch my drift."
"He is that," Emma conceded, "So he was here?"
"Yeah, two days ago," the woman nodded, "Paid for one night, brought his stuff up to the room and then set out for the docks. Said he was buying himself a ship. Seemed real excited about it. Never came back. Figured he hooked up with one of the local barmaids as we call them. You know the type."
"I'm familiar with type," Emma confirmed.
"You his lady?" the woman asked.
"Yeah," Emma nodded, "You said his belongings are still here, could I take a look through them?"
"I'll do ya one better," the woman stated, "I'll let you have them, since you're his lady, I'll trust you to get the stuff back to him."
The woman disappeared into the back room to gather the rucksack that was filled with Killian's belongings. Emma recognized the bag immediately. She'd given him the bag a few months earlier.
"I'll make sure he gets it," Emma nodded as she grabbed his bag and slung it over her shoulder, "Is there anything else you can remember?"
"Sorry, that's really all there was," the woman gave a sympathetic smile.
"Okay, thanks," Emma nodded as she pulled one of her cards from her pocket, "If he comes back or if there is anything else you remember, my number is on the card. Please give me a call."
"Absolutely," the woman nodded as she accepted the card, "Hope you find him."
"Thanks, me too," Emma replied as she left feeling a little defeated. She didn't have anything else to go on. Near as she could figure, she'd spoken with everyone that he'd interacted with while in port. Then she remembered when Old Man Hallstrom mentioned the registry office. It was worth a shot.
"Can I help you, Missy?" the man at the registry office greeted her immediately. The name on his desk read, William Cooper.
"Yes," Emma nodded as she immediately went into the spiel that was becoming routine as she showed the official Killian's picture.
"Is he in trouble with the law?" Mister Cooper inquired.
"No," Emma responded quickly, "He's been out of touch for two days, and his friends are concerned about him. Old Man Hallstrom said that they'd transferred the title two days ago. Did they talk about anything while they were in the office that might lead to his current whereabouts?"
"Well, they talked about the ship mostly and how it navigated," Mister Cooper responded as he pulled the records from his file cabinet, "Mister Jones wanted the vessel renamed. He chose Emma's Swan and changed the port of registry to Storybrooke, Maine. Since this is no longer the port of registry, he was required to move it to a visitor's slip immediately. He paid for one night's rent as he intended to sail the next day. The ship is still in the harbor, so we'll have to charge him for an additional two days or however long it continues to stay in port."
"It's still here?" Emma's heart skipped a beat.
"It hasn't moved since he'd docked it," Mister Cooper confirmed, "Was mighty impressed with his competency with navigating the ship, especially with only one hand. Seems like a natural."
"He has a lot of experience," Emma replied, "What slip is he docked at?"
"That will be V-18," the man read off the records in front of him.
"Thank you for the information," Emma stated as she turned to leave.
"When you see him, will you inform him that he needs to settle up with the harbormaster before he sails off?" Mister Cooper requested.
"I'll deliver the message," Emma nodded as she thanked him for the information.
Doubling back to the harbor she easily found the slip and ship in question. The ship's name had yet to be changed, so it read Mabel's Rose. Just as Emma was about to step onboard she noticed several spots of blood on the ship's planks.
Emma pulled her gun from the holster behind her back and carefully boarded the ship, searching every crevice of the deck before moving below as she called out for Killian. There was a faint groan, barely audible from her location, coming from one of the cabins as she followed the trail of blood.
Though she wanted to immediately rush towards the blood, she didn't want to be surprised, so she checked each cabin as she went before stopping in front of the last room. She opened it slowly.
"Killian!" she gasped as found him laying on the bed, his face split open in numerous place, but the most horrific site was the deep red blood stain that colored his linen shirt. "Oh my god, what happened?"
"Emma," Killian moaned in recognition of the voice, but the swollenness of his eyes didn't allow him to see her face.
"I'm here," she tucked her gun away and rushed to his side immediately. His forehead was drenched with sweat. He clearly had a fever. "What happened?"
"I was jumped by two guys on the docks on my way back to the inn," he groaned, "One wanker pulled a knife and tried to gut me like a fish, nearly succeeded, but it was a dull blade, lucky for me. I knew I couldn't make it to the inn on my own. The Swan was closer, so I staggered here. The old man's medicinal supplies were adequate enough."
"How bad is it?" she lifted his shirt carefully. It looked as if he'd attempted to treat himself. There were horrific stitches zigzagging the wound and a crude dressing had been used to cover it.
"Bleeding has stopped, finally," he responded slowly as she carefully examined him, "The world spins when I try to stand."
"Did you stitch this?" Emma asked.
"Did my best," he nodded, "Not my first time with a needle and thread."
"You need a doctor," her hand went to his forehead to gauge the level of his fever.
"I don't need to be poked and prodded by another doctor," he groaned, "Once was quite enough."
"Of course you're going to be stubborn about this," she sighed, "Will you at least let me dress it properly?"
"What's wrong with how I dressed it?" he inquired.
"First off, you have a fever so it's probably infected. We need to disinfect it and then dress it so that any potential germs can't float in," she explained.
"How is it that you know these things?" he asked.
"I'm not fond of doctors either," she replied, "Have you had anything to eat or drink?"
"Does rum count?" he held up the flask he kept with him at all times.
"No, it does not," she replied, "But we might be able to use it to disinfect the wound."
"You're not bloody wasting my rum," he growled.
"Big baby," she muttered under her breath, "Don't move. I'm going to see what's available in the galley. You need something to eat."
Emma searched through drawers and cabinets. She didn't find much more than crackers and a jug of water, but it was a start. Killian was still moaning when she returned to the captain's quarters.
"Eat these and drink as much water as you can while I'm gone," Emma thrust the crackers into his hand, "I need to retrieve some medical supplies and rations."
"Could you pick up some more rum?" he requested, "Nearly out and it helps dull the pain."
"I'll get you something for the pain, but not rum," she responded, "Eat, drink and don't move."
"As you wish, Love," Killian nodded his head slightly.
A wave of slight relief and affection hit her all at once as she pressed her lips to his forehead before she rained kissed along his face, being careful to avoid his wounds. While he was clearly injured, she was relieved that he was at least alive. She'd had more than a few thoughts throughout the day that had told her otherwise.
"Be careful, Love," Killian cautioned her before she left, "Docks can be a mighty dangerous place, especially for lovely lasses like yourself."
"I can take care of myself," she whispered in his ear. She kissed him once more before she left.
TBC…