Disclaimer: I don't own Once Upon a Time or its characters, but I love making them do as I wish ;)

Rating: T for mild language and innuendo (ala one sexy pirate captain!)

It shouldn't have surprised Emma that she didn't get a minute of proper sleep last night. After confirming which police station they were holding Jones in, she decided to bail him out in the morning.

Henry had texted her on her cab ride home last night, asking if she could pick him up at his friends' house later than they had originally planned, so that he and his friend could sleep in. Relieved as she was that her son didn't have to see her in such a cationic state, being alone in her apartment had forced Emma to think about everything she had learned yesterday.

Stepping into the shower, she allowed the hot water to cascade around her body, the steam fogging up the sliding glass door. The mango scent in her shampoo filled the air as Emma lathered her hair into a foamy mound, while her mind reeled.

Beyond the vision and dreams she's had over the past year, Emma now had more concrete evidence to prove there was something beyond just images in her head. There was no reasonable explanation for the mysterious message that appeared on that slip of paper, but Josef had seen it as plainly as she had.

Josef. After everything he had done for her, she felt so guilty for pushing him away last night. After watching her leave in the cab, and hadn't even texted Emma to see if she had reached home safely. Not that she could blame the guy, after the way she had blown him off.

Turning off the water, Emma grabbed a towel to dry herself, the beads of water running down her toned arms and legs. She walked to the closet and picked out an outfit that would portray confidence and determination, with a just hint of flirtation. Something told her it wouldn't take much for a man like Jones to get comfortable with her. If his previous actions, looks, and even tone of voice were any indication, Emma would bet he had a special talent for wooing the opposite sex.

Shivering at the thought, she pulled on a pair of dark leggings, smoothing them over her thighs and up to her waist. The black skirt she chose was cotton, but it fell about six inches above her knees. Her shirt was plaid, which reminded her of a school uniform, and gave her a sense of authority (which she needed.)

Emma grabbed the library book she had to return and threw on her favorite red leather jacket, the one she wore for days she needed a bit of good luck. She decided to skip breakfast, even though it was well past the morning and grabbed her keys while heading for the front door.

Jones might be used to getting what he wanted with his good looks and charm, but it was her time to get what she needed- answers.

In the interior of the police station reminded Emma of her time in Arizona, right down to the strong smell of bleach they used on the linens for the inmates. She had somehow avoided having to visit any correctional facility since she was seventeen, even in the line of work she was in.

Helping other children and young adults find a better future sometimes required Emma to visit foster homes, after school centers, and even hospitals. Detention centers, however, she did her best to stay away from.

Of course, this was just a small facility, primarily filled with drunks and petty burglars who needed to stay off the streets for a few nights. At the moment, Emma was only looking for one drunken burglar in particular.

An annoyingly attractive and charming burglar, at that.

She walked past the large, rotund lobby, her boots echoing around her until she reached a middle-aged man sitting at a glass incased desk. Clearing her throat, she waited for him to notice her as he worked at a computer.

"Excuse me, sir. They told me to come to you. Are you the booking officer?"

The man glanced up at Emma over his glasses, still typing, and stopped when he saw her. She could read the name Sleary on his name plate and realized this was the same guy she spoke to on the phone last night in the cab.

He was giving Emma a twice over, and seemed to be enjoying the view. Smiling inwardly, Emma decided she must have chosen the right outfit for today's venture. She quirked an eyebrow expectantly and it seemed to rouse the officer from his trance.

"Can I help you, Miss…?"

"Swan. Emma Swan. I believe I spoke to you last night in regards to a man you are holding here."

His previous look of curiosity and amusement was gone in an instant and replaced by a frown that Emma noticed clearly, even with a glass wall between them. "Oh yes, I remember," he murmured as he reached for the phone. "It's about time you showed up."

Emma found the comment to be a bit on the rude side, but decided not to make any trouble. She never bailed anyone out of jail before, but assumed this wasn't the time to get mouthy.

Sleary pursed his lips and Emma noticed the ends of his mustache twitch in annoyance. It was odd how quickly his demeanor had changed in an instant.

"Hey, I need you to bring the new guy Jones out for booking." He hesitated a moment, then raised his voice, making Emma jump a bit. "I don't care Gaines. Just do it!"

Slamming down the phone, Sleary looked at Emma again and gave her a tight smile. "I assume you'll be paying the full bail amount in cash."

She cringed slightly, fighting the urge to roll her eyes.

Yeah, don't remind me.

"That's what you said on the phone, right? I've got it here." Emma placed her purse and library book on the counter and pulled out a stack of bills.

He appeared slightly taken aback for a moment, almost as if he expected her to complain, but then started counting the money immediately after she slid them under the glass.

Sleary was almost finished when he mumbled something under his breath. "Personally, I'd pay this much money just to avoid the guy," he shook his head. "Must be the accent…"

Emma opened her mouth to reply, but never got the chance.

"You were most certainly the highlight of my visit here, Officer Gaines" a familiar voice came from down the hall and Emma swung her head around.

Jones was accompanied by a stout, female officer holding his left arm and escorting him toward her and Sleary.

God, how does this guy still pull off looking good after a night in the slammer?

He had the air of a man who knew he was about to win a hand at poker, not yet noticing Emma standing only feet away. As he inched closer to Gaines, Emma was sure she could see the woman redden slightly.

"Be sure to hold on to these manacles, my dear, in case any other devilishly striking men get out of hand." Jones grinned widely at her, waving his one good hand in an attempt to make her laugh.

She bit back a smile and shook her head as she unlocked the odd looking cuffs that wrapped tightly around his forearm, just above both wrists in order to account for his missing hand.

Rubbing his arm after being released, Jones finally noticed Emma watching him and their eyes met. He seemed almost surprised at first, but quickly recovered with a lazy grin appearing on his face as Jones made his way over to her.

"It's about bloody time, luv."

Emma heard Sleary huff behind her and she narrowed her eyes at Jones. He merely shrugged at her in amusement, and then raised a brow in question. "How did you even know where to find me, if I may ask?"

"The patch on the officer's uniform yesterday had "35th PCT" and somehow I remembered seeing it." A humorless laugh left her lips. "You're lucky I even showed up here at all."

Jones turned back to Gaines and gave her a quick wink. "What did I tell you, eh? My Swan couldn't stay away for long."

Emma rolled her eyes and looked back to Sleary, sighing. "Do I get a receipt or something?"

The booking officer crinkled his face in disgust toward Jones, as Gaines handed him his belongings.

"Yeah, but there is a very strict no-return policy. Don't bring him back again. Sign here."

Jones' body was pressed up closely beside hers, making it difficult to focus on the paper work. His breath was on her neck, bring goose bumps to her flesh. "How about my hook, mate? It should be returned to me, no?"

Sleary let out a huff, his nostrils flaring in annoyance. "It was considered a weapon when they confiscated it. You'll need to provide the proper paperwork if you want it back."

"Oi mate," Jones spat, clearly appalled, "you have no bloody right to-"

Doing her best to avoid the situation worsening, Emma scribbled her signature and grabbed the receipt before she pulled Jones toward the exit. "Let's go."

She ignored his angry mumbling, rushing out the door and down the steps of the building, where a few officers stood outside. Emma could hear them all whispering and making jokes about pirates.

Great, an audience of cops; that's all they needed right now.

Jones started to speak, but Emma cut him off by placing her gloved hand over his mouth. "We will get your hook back at some point, but right now I need you."

Two of the officers started to laugh, before Emma shot them a glare, her hand still over Jones' face. After a few moments of silence, Emma uncovered his mouth, the man's eyebrow raising in question. Maybe there was a chance Jones would cooperate after all.

"Very well milady. I'm at your service, of course." His eyes crawled over her body slowly, and Emma felt heat simmering in her chest, despite the chilly, autumn air.

So much for cooperation.

She took a breath through her nose, lips shut tightly. "Do you ever come out of character, or does the charade provide the attention you need?"

Jones appeared to be briefly confused by her question, but took it in stride, stepping closer to her.

"The only attention I require is from you, Darling," he whispered, his face inches from hers.

Emma was ready for this kind of response and she took a step back from Jones, her hands moving to her hips in frustration.

"My patience is running thin, here. I want some answers, Jones, and you better not lie to me."

The same look of hurt that she had seen on his face yesterday was there again and Emma couldn't understand how a roguish guy like him could be flustered by her words.

"I have never lied to you, luv." He had a slightly subjugated look, but moved his hand to lift her chin and raise her eyes to him. "And I wouldn't try that on you, of all people."

Emma frowned and pushed away his hand, releasing her chin. "What are you talking about?"

"You have a special gift, as I recall you telling me; one that allows you to detect dishonesty."

She froze, looking into his eyes as she used the very "gift" he was referring to on him now. How did he know? Neal could have told him, she supposed. Yes, and that's why she was here in the first place.

"Tell me about Neal. Why are you working with him, and how did you get that slip to me in the restaurant? What does that message even mean? You really freaked me out last night, I…"

Suddenly his arms were around her, putting an end to Emma's rambling and enveloping her in warmth. Her first reaction was to knee him again and take him back to the jailhouse. In spite of herself, though, she remained still, letting her hands awkwardly rest on his back.

"I never meant to cause you any additional distress, Emma. I understand that this is a great deal to take on all at once."

There was a comfort there and Emma could tell he wanted to make her feel at ease, which only confused her more.

Who the hell is this guy?

His rough stubble rubbed against the side of her head, and she heard him sigh in content. He still had the same musk as before, a mixture of liquor and salty leather. Emma slowly pulled away, looking into his eyes with discretion.

"Why are you really here? I want to know the entire truth right now."

She kept her words firm but calm, despite the hundred questions assaulting her brain.

Jones took a deep breath, his face still serious, and he looked around to see he wasn't being watched. He pulled out something from his boot and she realized it was the vial of whatever liquid he tried to hand her yesterday.

"Where is your boy?"

She didn't expect him to ask that, of all things, but he was really trying her patience.

"That's none of your concern, now answer my damn questions!"

"Please luv, come with me to Storybrooke and all will be answered." He held the vial out to her slowly.

Emma narrowed her eyes at him, but took the vial carefully in her hand. She uncorked it and took a whiff, not surprised to find that it was odorless.

It probably allowed him to drug his victims easier.

He moved his hand over hers, taking the vial and corking it once more. "Not now, my dear. First I need you to understand."

Emma shook her head in frustration and ran fingers through her hair, hoping to bring some clarity to her mind. Looking down the block a ways, she made a decision that they couldn't have this conversation publically and grabbed the vial from Jones, stuffing it in her pocket.

"Follow me. I need a drink."

She felt him coming up to walk beside her immediately, muttering under his breath. "It appears that some things never change."

Second Star Pub on Bleeker was the ideal place to meet someone under discrete circumstances. Though not dirty, this dive bar was dimly lit, small, and was only occupied by a few regulars, Emma occasionally being one of them.

She didn't have many girlfriends, but would occasionally drop by here on nights when Henry had a sleepover to grab a quiet drink without a dozen guys coming up to hit on her.

It was barely past lunch time, but she needed something to help ease the tension if she was going to persuade Jones to tell her what she wanted.

The smell of cooking oil and cedar wood filled her nose as some kid played pinball in the back corner, the machine clinking noisily in the quiet bar. She couldn't help but feel bad for the boy, who was now attempting to catch the attention of his drunken father sitting nearby.

Emma didn't recognize the bartender: a slim, young, red head who had a tattoo on the small of her back where the shirt rode up from her jeans. She noticed her name tag said "Brittany," and tried to remember if she had seen her there before.

"How ya'll doin' today?" Brittany drawled out lazily, catching Jones' stare and smiling wide.

Emma felt a twinge of annoyance she couldn't understand and ordered a whiskey sour. Rubbing at a worn hole in the wooden counter, she inwardly guessed Jones' order before the words left his mouth.

"Rum please, luv." He leaned over the bar and caught her hand with his good one. "And make it a double."

Her hair was pulled up into a messy bun, and when she swung around to meet his eyes, some of the pieces fell out loosely. Giggling at his touch, Brittany pulled a loose piece and tucked it behind her ear.

"Comin' right up, Darlin'."

God, it's already starting. It just had to be a female bartender.

Jones' rough voice was suddenly in her ears.

"I must thank you for releasing me from prison, Emma." Jones bit lightly into his lower lip and Emma felt her stomach flutter as he continued.

"I must confess, however, that I assumed you would have shown up much sooner. As much as I enjoyed being courted by a hefty, spiky-haired gentleman by the name of Bo-Bo, I was hoping to see your lovely face again before now."

Brittany had returned with their drinks and Emma asked to start a tab before diving into her drink immediately. Letting the fire of the whiskey burn away her senses, Emma finally relaxed.

"Can I get your ID?"

Emma looked at her in surprise, not used to being carded, but the bartender just smiled. "I'll need your ID if you're paying with cash or you can leave a credit card."

Shrugging, Emma reached into her wallet and took out the ID, then handed it across the counter.

"Hey, Hap-"

Emma noticed the look on Brittany's face and immediately stopped her before she could continue, waving it off. Emma turned back to Jones with a frown.

"After you kissing me and then breaking into my car, what did you expect?"

He shook his head in agreement, surprising her for a moment before responding. "Well, I admit it wasn't the most ideal first impression. Although, this was technically our second first impression."

Looking back over to Jones, Emma gave him a tight smile. "Oh yes, I forgot, you're still trying to convince me that we've met before."

Jones' gaze was on her now, his face impassive for the first time, and he didn't respond. The New York Giants game was on a TV above their heads and the announcer was clamoring away about a recent play.

Emma felt awkward under his stare and broke the tension by asking for a menu. It was nearly two, and she hadn't eaten anything today.

"You appear to be exhausted, lass. Are you alright?"

Glancing over the menu, Emma decided that she didn't want to admit to Jones that she hadn't slept, so she changed the subject to the very thing they came here for.

"How do you know, Neal?"

Jones blinked at her without responding and the downed the rest of his rum like it was water. Keeping his eyes straight ahead as if he was searching for the courage, he answered her.

"He's a friend. We've known each other a very long time."

Emma carefully watched his expressions for any sign of deceit. He waved the bartender over, this time without a smile, and continued.

"This isn't a ploy to take Henry away from you, Emma. This is about getting you back to where you belong."

"Ok and where is this "Storybrooke" you keep talking about? I've never even heard of it, let alone been there." She watched as Brittany walked over to refill his glass.

Jones smiled gratefully to the bartender and she interrupted the silence. "Did either of you want something to eat?"

Emma had almost forgotten the menu, but glanced over it quickly and made an easy choice.

"Grilled cheese, please."

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jones furrow his brow in confusion at her order. When Brittany turned to him with an expectant look, though, he had already recovered.

"I'll have the same thank you," he mumbled to her.

The young bartender seemed to understand that there was tension in the air, merely nodding in the affirmative as she grabbed the menus and walked away.

Emma didn't waste any time and decided to take a new approach. Leaning over to him, her blonde curls falling forward over her shoulder, she forced Jones to meet her eyes.

"Just tell me everything."

He hesitated a moment, but then sighed deeply, curling his fingers gently around a lock of her hair. Jones finally met her eyes with an intensity she wasn't ready for and Emma involuntarily shivered.

"It's going to be difficult to understand, and even more so to believe, but you must listen to me."

Emma was relieved that he was ready to open up, even if what he had to say was nonsense. Much of what this guy has done and said to her over the past 24 hours was ridiculous, but somehow it felt right. That's what scared her most of all.

Taking one last drink from his glass, Jones began, his words tumbling out like an avalanche.

"You have been living a lie for almost a year now, you and Henry. The world you believe is a fairytale fantasy is actually real and you're a part of it. Your parents were forced to give you up as a babe for the safety of their kingdom, because you are the savior who was meant to deliver them; a product of true love."

The unblinking stare that Emma gave him must have portrayed her disbelief, because he sighed and took another drink. She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

"I know that doesn't make sense, lass. I wouldn't believe it either, if my memory was taken from me and a madman showed up with such a tale. But Emma," his hand came to rest on hers, his calloused fingers wrapping around hers warmly, "I swear to you it's the truth."

Much of what he had said was a blur once she heard the part about a fairytale. Her parents lived in a kingdom and she was a product of true love? It was even more outrageous than she imagined, and nothing had prepared her for it.

More than anything else he had said, though, the part about her being a "savior" resounded the most. That's the same word that had been on the slip of paper from the restaurant, before her name had appeared shortly thereafter.

"So it was you," she mused out loud. "You sent that waiter to give me a slip of paper. Did Neal tell you to do it? How the hell did you even get the words to appear like that? What did the message mean?"

Jones lowered his voice to calm her and she could hear the two guys sitting next to them cheering over the game.

"What slip of paper? To what message are you referring?" His hand was now grasping her hand, the cold, brass rings on his fingers contrasting to the heat between them.

Emma's breath was ragged and she barely noticed the bartender coming over with their food. This guy actually had the audacity to lie to her after she gave him a chance to explain. Emma's back went rigged and she shoved his hand away.

"Don't lie to me, Jones. I know you sent that message. Who else would it be after what you just told me?"

Brittany appeared at their side and Emma peered over to her, slightly embarrassed at the outburst. The bartender looked between her and Jones, setting down their plates.

"Do either of you need anything else?"

Emma was already moving to get her purse and coat. "Yes a check, if you could. I'm going to take this sandwich to go also."

She wasn't positive, but Emma thought she saw the waitress bite back a smile. It didn't matter, though, because she was livid. This guy was not only stalking her, but had lied to her face more than once.

"Emma-"She had gotten to her feet in an instant and her hand was up in front of his face, cutting him off.

"Listen, Jones…if that's even your name. I don't know what you and Neal are planning; whether you're trying to make me lose my mind or what, but I don't need some drunken Disney drop-out telling me lies and wasting my time. You can tell him that I'll get a restraining order if I have to."

"Whoa, whoa, easy Darling. Calm your nerves."

"Don't call me 'Darling'," she snarled at him, pointing his finger on his chest. "I don't know what he's paying you, but I promise that it won't be worth it after I get the law on your ass."

Brittany had returned with their food and check, hesitating on whether to pass her or Jones the bill. Emma saw him pull a few gold coins out of his pocket and she quirked an eyebrow.

"Do you take Doubloons, lass? I've been having such a difficult time paying for anything in this wretched land."

The bartender sniggered and placed a hand on his, shaking her head in amusement. Emma wasn't impressed, frowning at him and pulling out her wallet. To her surprise, Brittany put her hand up and gave Emma a smile.

"This one's on the house, folks."

"Thanks," she muttered back, still throwing a ten on the counter for a tip. "I'm out of here, Jones."

Before reaching the door, he caught her arm.

"Emma, I told you before, I'm not working with Baelfire against you. He's in danger like the rest of your family. Besides, after what I did to him all those years in Neverland, I need to ensure he survives this."

An alarm went off in her mind, and Emma stopped trying to struggle out of his grasp.

"What did you say?"

He quirked an eyebrow at her question, then nodded his head. "Indeed, I did say 'Neverland.' I know that's just another bit of rubbish you won't understand, but-"

"No, what did you just call Neal?"

Jones looked at her in surprise, but then she saw understanding appear on his features.

"Baelfire. That was his name in another land, his birth name. Although, his parents called him 'Bae.'"

Everything seemed to stop, and Emma felt herself stumble back in disbelief. Bae. That was what that man Gold had called Neal in her vision.

No one could have possibly known that. She hadn't mentioned that part to anyone.

My God.

"Emma?" His hand slowly rubbed up her arm, and it created a tingle that she wasn't sure whether it was from his touch or her revelation.

"Emma, luv, do you remember something?"

The time had come for her to accept that there was some truth to what this man was saying. Emma could no longer deny there were things happening that she couldn't explain. Somewhere and at some point they had met, and there was much more to her life than she knew.

She slowly looked from his hand holding her arm to his eyes and the words were out of her mouth before she could stop them.

"Meet me at my apartment in an hour. Henry and I will be ready to go. We're going to Storybrooke."

The elated smile on his face almost brought one to her own as Jones looked like he just hung the moon.

"That's the right decision, lass. You will not regret it; I'm truly in your debt."

Shaking her head and prying herself from his grasp, Emma heading for the exit again, this time mumbling over her shoulder.

"Yeah, well you already owe me $600 for bailing your sorry ass out of jail."

Emma heard his dark chuckle behind her and as the door shut, she could hear the teasing in his voice, causing her to roll her eyes.

"I'm quite certain I can find a way to make it up to you, luv."

"I can't believe we're from a fairytale world! Oh man, I knew I had it in me to be a knight. The way I can ride my bike without holding the handlebars; I'll be jousting in no time."

Henry jumped off the bed, the springs creaking in protest, and pumped his fist for good measure. Emma threw another sweater into her luggage bag and shook her head in mild amusement.

"Now, remember what I said. A lot of what Jones has told us is completely ridiculous, so don't get your hopes up." Henry was half way to his room before he turned around.

"Yeah Mom, but how can you deny he's telling us the truth after what you saw in the apartment?"

Emma had told Henry about her vision and the part about Neal being called "Bae," but omitted telling him of the odd piece of paper she got in the restaurant. Jones claimed he didn't know anything about it, but she wasn't convinced and didn't want her son to be scared by the cryptic message.

"We're only going to this town in Maine to find out more on Neal."

Emma knew that wasn't the complete truth, but still wasn't ready to admit that she believed in magic or fairytales being real.

Zipping up her suitcase, she yelled into the other room. "You better get a move on, Kiddo. Jones should be here in about fifteen minutes."

On cue, the doorbell rang and Emma made her way to the front door. "Hurry up, Henry."

She opened the door and wasn't surprised to see a giant smirk on the man's face. Emma noticed Jones was still wearing what he had on yesterday and she quirked an eyebrow, but decided not to comment.

"You're early."

He was leaning against the door frame and she noticed the gold pendants dangling from his neck, glittering in the hallway light. Jones suddenly closed the distance between them, his smirk fading and voice husky.

"Well no need to worry, Sweetheart. Coming early is not something I'm generally known for."

As much as it irritated her, Emma felt her heart pick up its pace at the statement. Emma regained her composure, though, and crossed her arms over her chest with a frown.

"Alright, let's get something straight. If you're going to ride in a car with my son for seven hours, then you better cool it on the innuendos."

Jones appeared unfazed, but only gave her a courteous bow in response.

Before she could say anything else, Henry was dragging his gym bag into the living room.

"Hey Killian! Are you excited about our road trip? Don't worry, I packed plenty of snacks."

Emma saw the sincere smile appear on Jones' face and she was taken aback.

"Brilliant plan, lad. According to your mother, this is going to be a lengthy journey indeed."

Henry didn't waste any time, grabbing them both into the hall enthusiastically. "What are we waiting for then? Let's hit the road!"

Emma heard Jones laugh softly as they made their way to the elevator.

This was going to be interesting.

Making their way out of the lobby, Emma pulled her luggage toward the main entrance, but was stopped by Jones.

"Allow me, my lady."

She shot him a disdainful look. "Acting the gentleman now?"

His hand brushed lightly over hers as he grabbed the handle of her suitcase. "I'm always a gentleman, luv."

There was a brief feeling of déjà vu, similar to how she felt when he had kissed her, but she shrugged it away as Henry yelled back at them.

"Come on, guys! The car is parked in a tow-away zone."

By the time she and Jones reached the street, Henry was already opening the trunk to pack his bag. He left the trunk open for them, as her son leapt into the back seat.

Emma looked back over to Jones who was slamming the trunk door shut with a clunk. "Didn't you pack anything to take?"

A flash of gloominess crossed his face as moved to get into the car. "It's all on my ship, I'm afraid."

Of course it is.

Jones pulled at the door and went to sit with Henry, but she stopped him. "Oh no, I want you in the front seat in case you try anything. And don't think I'm taking my eyes off of you for a second."

She felt another wave of familiarity hit her and she noticed Jones swerve his head slowly in her direction as if he had felt it too. There was an odd look on his face, like he was trying to figure out the meaning of a painting.

"Are you quite certain you don't remember anything, lass?"

Emma held his gaze for a moment and then looked away as she started the car. "No," she half lied.

He shook his head and muttered softly, although Emma heard him clear as day. "For one who can spot a liar, you certainly are terrible at deceiving another yourself."

Emma opted not to answer and noticed Jones struggling with his seat belt. He watched as she fastened hers and tried his own again, cursing under his breath.

Frowning at his confusion, she leaned over and clicked his into place, earning a wink from him in return. Emma tried not to think about what was going through his mind as she caught another whiff of the scent that was driving her as crazy as the man from which it came.

"Are you quite prepared for another adventure, luv?" Jones flashed her a dazzling smile and Emma's breathing faltered slightly as he lowered his voice. "It seems we were meant for this life, you and I."

She was so in over her head here.