I'm sorry for the long update. I was immersed with writing the Once Upon In Neverland FF. And it ate all my brains, as a matter of fact. I may have to write the next chapter when I can and I know it's not that soonest because of Once Upon in Neverland. So blame it on that fic. haha.. Anyway here's a lot of emma and killian. This is the longest chapter I've written so far. So here you go. I hope you'll like it. Reviews are pretty much appreciated for my low-esteem. The next three acts are inspired with Snow White Theme. Ok I'm done ranting.


CHAPTER 2: Act 1: Someday, My Prince Will Come

He opened the door to his room, unbutton his coat and slouched on the fainting couch. Years of stay here at London has proved to be futile. He doesn't belong here. He has his own life mission, the core reason of his existence. Yet, he was exiled and he was far from his own vengeance. Suddenly, a knock was heard by his room. It was demanding and he knew better who disturbed his peace.

That brat, he thought sourly.

"Killian, are you back yet?" Her voice resounding the hallway on the second floor of the mansion.

He wanted to feign himself but knowing how persistent that lass is, he would end up taking another magic pill for his head.

"What do you want?" He boredly answered still laying at rest on the couch.

"Uncle wants a word with you." She said from the other side of the door.

He sighed. How he follows orders from that man beats him.

"That can wait till the morrow." Now wouldn't the time to had a row with him again, he had enough for a day. "Goodnight, Moira."

"But Killian, uncle said he wants it now." She yelled insisting on his uncle's demand.

"Lass, I'm not going for it. You go back to your dream as I would have mine." He said and clicked the lamp shut. He knew, the lady was contemplating whether to ruin his moment or let him be. Finally, he heard footsteps died down the hallway, he knew he can have the night all along to himself. He paced to his room, opened the french door on his balcony and climbed atop the roof.

Since he was a prison of this land, of this people, he came every night here at the top. He was lying on his back and watched the moon, sometimes, he mutters to himself how failure his past years were, recalling the bitter past of his one true love, angering himself to fuel his revenge on his crocodile and sometimes, he regrets all of it when he made a fool of himself for that treacherous little boy. Yet all of these wouldn't made up Killian Jones on who he is today nor the Captain Hook living inside him. And now he is here, on the third year of sitting idly on this place doing nothing while his own crocodile bares his fangs and ready to snap again.

The face of her one true love appeared over the skies. He could hear the jolly laughter of her or her witty remarks.

Witty remarks... He smiled at the thought of it.

Well, someone just happens to made him laugh heartily. That swan girl. Aye, she's a conundrum and a piece of a puzzle. Yet, he admit she was one of the few people who bested him. And he liked the look of her face when she thought it was him whom sherlock had her to work with. And he went with the flow. Her perplexed expression rather turned gruesome each time words flail from his mouth. And if shit-lock didn't stopped her, she would've had hit him. Not that he wants it but he liked the way her face betrays her.

"Killian, enough." Sherlock intervenes rather the fascinating comments he would have given her again. The lass was suppressing her anger. She restrained herself trying not to lose a job she was working hard with. Her jaw was tensed and her fist clenched on her side.

He cocked his eyebrow and turned to Sherlock, "I've come for the payment, Lock. And I think I knew what it is."

Sherlock hesitated, maybe trying to remember the words of vow he just made with him. Killian knew he wouldn't turn it down. He withdraw his breathe and turned to the woman.

"Emma, this is Killian Jones. Killian, this is Emma Swan." Then, he turned to him. "I don't want to see both of you strangling each other's necks. And you, Jones, behave like you would always say, a true gentleman else, you know the consequences of this."

"Wait, is this some kind of a sick joke?" She looked from Sherlock to him. "I'm not a compensation for something you owe to this man."

"You're not and fret not. I know you prefer working alone, so the other job I was referring you with? It's all yours alone. And besides, after helping Jones, it's done." He said, adjusting the eyeglass he was wearing.

"Done deal?" He turned to her.

"As if I had any choice." She glared at him.

Emma Swan. That puts him all at ease. The ugly duckling blooms perfectly to be a beautiful swan now. He watched the hazy dark sky, and the twinkling stars above him. Has it been long enough? It's more than twenty years.


"No, Ruby, listen to me. I had enough of his innuendos. His shenanigans who happens to be foul and rather... rather vile?" She clutched the phone on her shoulders and head while tossing the green salads.

"Come on, Emma. That wasnt what I heard. You're reading too much of his lines and you're over reacting."

"I. am. not." She insisted. She knew better her schemes. All those years, she still hadn't dropped being aphrodite's son. "And what's with you? You should've side with me. I'm your friend."

"I am and I'm telling you, you're too uptight. Loosen up a bit, will 'ya? Perhaps, he would've serve you as your equal."

She groaned inwardly at ruby's remarks. She couldn't believe her at all. "Goodbye ruby." She needed her not to remind of it.

She heard a laugh from the other line. "You really choose your battle well, Emma."

And with that, she clicked the phone off. That was also when she heard the door opened and her son's voice.

"Mom! Mom!"

She took the plates in her hand while the salads on the other. "Slow down kid. Something's matter?" She asked as his son's face somehow flushed. She made her way back to the

"Mom you're not gonna believe what I just read." Henry put down his bag and slammed a brown satchel on the table.

"All, right. Wash your hands now, dinner's ready." She called from the sink and took a peek "Seriously, Henry, garb isn't best on my table."

"That's not a garb, Mom. It's a book." He called from the sink.

Her brow furrowed as Henry sat down for dinner.

"Where did you get that book?" She asked suspiciously. The book wasn't a simple and ordinary one. It was leather bound and gold stamped intricately, 'Once Upon A Time'

"The queen gave it to me." He replied reaching for the soup across him.

Now, what's he up to? "Henry?" Her brows raised.

"No, mom, I swear. The queen mary, she came to our school and I met her and she gave me this."

Well, she did know the visit from the queen. Parents were informed and some of her colleagues were in the protocols. But seeing Henry with a book of some well-written fairytales, she couldn't imagine what good might come up for him. It's delusional. They're not even real. No magic and not even fairy godmothers in this world. Nada.

"I know you're not gonna believe me. I'm still finding out everything. And when I did, you'll gonna believe me." He said stopping between munching his meals.

The things delusions create for people. See? She sighed. But then, she doesn't even have a heart to take Henry from the book. She'll gonna take cold treatments again and it's painful for her, being cast aside by the only person she has in this world. But neither would she encourage him to stick his nose on it.

"What's the book all about?" She asked. She took a bite of chicken turnover pie.

"Fairy tales. But it's not just tales. It's your tale, mom. And its true."


She was torn between talking to that man or sticking to her own desk. She had no time to splayed another row with him. But seeing her situation wouldn't resolved, she had to start it out, ease it out and be done with it.

Resigned, Emma went to his desk.

"Ah, so you've missed me." He greeted her when she stepped in. He was on the window staring at the busy cityscape and slowly turned to her.

"It's been a day and you haven't given much details about your problem. I'm not fond of being idle." She answered him

"What's the rush, love?" He walked towards his desk and took a parchments of paper.

Here we go again, she thought. "My peace depends on the basis of accomplishing your own agendas. I want it back and that's my rush."

He stared at her with a broad grin. She crossed her arms and walked towards him. "Sherlock told me you're looking for someone."

"Aye, indeed. I am looking for two people. A father-son tandem." He said as he sat on his chair.

Her eyes met his. That was no good. His stares are penetrating. It's like one look he could barely know you deeper. She hated looking at him but something pulls her to gaze at those cerulean blue eyes.

"You got names?" Her eyes averted away from him.

He shook his head. "Well, in my place, they're known as Baelfire and Rumplestiltskin. Here, that, I didn't know."

She closed her eyes trying to ward off his answers. She'd had enough for a night with her son and now, this man appear from nowhere and was splaying her with fictional characters. "Oh, you're kidding me."

His brows furrowed. "What?"

"Nothing, you better ask the mirror mirror on the wall" She snapped at him. Why she came for him, beats her. She shouldn't have come. She won't gain any sane conversation with him. Like right now.

"That exists here?" He jumped to his feet and before she knew it, he was there beside her.

What is wrong with him? Does everyone around her feigned surprises like this? "Okay, I don't know what you've been drinking, but you've got to stop this. You're not being funny and I don't want anymore loony around."

"See, that's the reason I shouldn't have told you but alas, I only speak for the truth." He stared at her, lips pressed in a line.

No lies, no deceptions. That's what he wanted to say to her. But she couldn't just accept it, could she? "Ugh." Resigned, she stalked towards the door.

But before she could be out, she heard him spoke again."So, you give up."

"No, I don't. Only if you are telling the truth and telling me factual based person." She hissed at his tease.

"They do." His face was hard and gone was his teasing smile.

"Then, it's not me you'll need. Go and bury yourself on books."And she left without a word.


Killian watched her go. Well, she was a few people who bested him and probably one whom he could be truthful enough.

He stood up and walked towards her office. He watched her with fascination. He liked the way her expression change in a snap of his fingers.

"Come, lass. There's a chocolate shop who brews best near here."

"How do you..."

"You smell of cinnamon and honey. Plus, your mug betrays you." He glanced at her mug half-full of untouched cold chocolate.

"No, I won't." She answered and goes back to the stack of papers she was burrying herself into since she came in the morning.

"Quite a stubborn lass, I see. Then, I was right enough. It had dawn on me that you want to keep me far long enough." He smirked at her. He found himself liking to tease her. In fact, he doesn't even understand himself why there was an urge to do that.

"What's that supposed to mean?" She looked at him in irritation.

"Help me find those people and bloody get rid of me, sooner than you would expect me to." He answered.


Their ride wasn't far enough stretching downtown. Emma remembered too well this place. It was just near the orphanage she grew up with. And the mansion she always cleaned up with. She marveled at the years long gone. It has been two decades and the memory was still alive. And there it is, the cafe nearby who sells pastries and breads of different kinds and the warm chocolate she tasted best.

"Here you go, sweetling." He pushed the mug of hot cinnamon chocolate in front of her.

Her eyes fluttered for a while. "You've got quite a taste for sweets now."

"I knew someone who loves their artisan so much." He pulled his own mug playing the rim of it.

"Oh, that you do." She eyed at him suspiciously. Somehow, he doesn't give away that much.

"What's that supposed to mean?" He asked.

"Well, thought you only cared for yourself." She leaned in on the couch.

"Oh, that I am. Spent all my life alone, so I guess you're probably right." He took a sip and settle it like before.

"So, about those two people you're looking for. Give me their factual names and I assure you, I can find them."

He groaned inwardly. "And how bloody times do I need to repeat myself? Those were the names I had."

This time, she rolled her eyes on annoyance. She took the mug and sip from it. Any way it's gonna be a teasing game with this man. And she's not into it.

She heard his mug clinked on the glass table. He adjusted his scarf and stood up.

"Where are you going?" She asked.

"I'll leave you to finish your own mug. I'll stretch some legs." She watched him go from the shop, crossed the streets and went to towards the big manse.

That got her attention. She took a gulp and traced him towards the place. What could he be doing in that manse? Does he even knew the people living there? She hurriedly crossed the street not noticing the cars going to and fro. The street was filled with honking horns and curses running on her. she was catching her breathe when she got through the front door.

So much for defying traffic laws, she thought. The door suddenly opened and Killian came surging through it. His chest was heaving and his face flushed red.

"What the hell, Emma Swan?" His shout already confirmed that he was furious.

"Excuse me?" She asked unaware of what she did to earn a yell from him.

"Do you really bloody wants to be shipped in a coffin?" He yelled rather infuriatingly. If looks could kill her, she would have been.

"Whoa, what the hell are you talkin' about?" She doesn't even know what caused him to bellow her noot that it frightened her.

"Cut the crap, Emma. Those mobiles wouldn't leave you alive had it crossed you." He hissed at her, eyes burning in rage.

"I'm still a piece, don't I? And why the hell are you in this place?" This wasn't a place for him. He shouldn't be. He shouldn't be here in the first place.

"Back at me now, huh?" His lips were pressed in a thin line.

"I won't apologize, if that's what you're been seizing up for."

"Really? Then try to kill yourself away from me. I wouldn't want another one for the matter." And with that he walked towards the foyer.

"Wait! Jones." She called him. And it was wrong for her to call him out. But she had to see something of bitter-sweet memories. "Where are you going? This is trespassing!" She yelled at him still not moving where she stood off.

"Really, love? So, trespassing is what you call when you enter your own house?" He answered still unmoving.

She pressed her eyes shut. Somehow she' picking her words the wrong way and she hate to admit that she shouldn't care whether this was Jones' house or not. Clearly, because the memories came back to her, alive like it seems from yesterday. "This isn't your house."

He studies her before words flail from his lips again. "You have a point but, I live here." He said turning himself around and starts to walk away.

"No, you're not. This place belongs to the Darlings."

"Can't someone possess another property?" He have a point there.

That leaves her in utter silence.

"If you want to stay you can but I have to get some things before heading back to the station." Killian started to walk inside leaving Emma hesitatingly whether she would follow him or remain where she stood.

"Wait." She called him. And she knew for the fact that there's no turning back. After all, she was going to rundown through bitter-sweet memories. "Can I see the backyard?" She said.

He paused and took a step toward her. "Tell me one good reason why should I let you in?"

"A memory from my childhood past."


Killian Jones smiled lovingly at her answer then nodded. He would have let another butler to show her in the place she wanted to see but he didn't. Somehow he was expectant to turn tides in favor of him.

He led her to the back garden and left her. From the distance, he saw her went to the well. The Darlings did procured the estate again, rebuilt it but retained the garden and the well. He was about to go to his room when he heard footsteps rushing in.

"Killian! Is everything alright? I've heard yelling down." The little lass descending from the stairs. He took a sigh and shook his head. Another lass to dealt with.

"Bloody yes. Get inside. Don't come out until I've told you so." The lass will pry him to the core and it bloody well made him the subject of conversation or worse, she would have to indulge herself with the swan girl and he didn't want either of the two.

Her brows shot up as she slowly walked in front of him. "And why would I follow orders from you."

He had a wry smile at his face as he remembered the little tricks the lass just got into. "Because I know a secret you're hiding from you're father."

Moira's face flushed red. She bloody remembered it too well, how he caught her unguard and the heated conversations thereafter. Without a word, she stalked back.

Meanwhile, he walked past the bar counter, took a brandy glass and poured himself half-full of rum. He let a sigh as his mind drifted off at the little stunt pulled by the woman.

Damn that woman. She could have been his death. When he saw her running down the streets, chasing against those boxed carriages or what those people called cars, he was mad and worried as hell. How can someone be so foolishly idiotic and stupidly careless? He drank the rum in one shot. Hell, he never had been drinking at such an hour like this since he got himself in this place. He settled the glass and decided to go find the swan lass. She might have drowned herself on the waterless well.

He found her standing on the well, her mind wandering without direction again.

"How'd you know the darlings?" She asked when he came near her.

"Long history, lass."

"You're not really giving away, are you?" She asked still her gaze far from him.

He suppressed a smile, "Perhaps."

Silence followed after. He stood there watching her as she gaze intently at the hard and cold stone well. "You said, you wanted to come here, for a memory."

"That's not a question."

Quite a brain she has and he has to give her a credit for that. "Right. What memory could that be?"

"Why would I tell you?" She turned to him.

"Call it curiosity."

"Curiosity kills the cat."

"I'm not a cat, love."

She glared at him. "Do you believe in ghost?"

He cocked his eyebrows.

"See. I won't tell you." Se turned away and started to walk away.

"Will-o-wisp?" He said. Ghost? Why would this place name it as ghost? They're spirits, lost and finds their way back to their home. Ghost is more likely morbid to call them.

She stopped in her tracks and furrowed her brows.

"In our place, its called like that." She didn't even budged as he spoke. Well, it takes two to play this game, he thought. "Fine, you're an open book, love. Let's see. You came here because the place triggered something from your past."

"Didn't I told you firsthand?" She glared at him.

"Someone from your past, with promises never kept, but you still hoped he'd come back"

"How'd you?"Her mouth gaped open as she stared at him in bewilderment.

He smiled at his triumph. "As I said, love, open book."

"No. I don't buy your crap, Jones." She started walking back at him with flushed face.

"I didn't expect you to be." He answered wittingly. He inched in front of her. "I know one thing, he will come."

"What?" He expected her to be deaf by his revelation after all, she would always deny truth. As sweet lies are better to be believed than painful truths.

He drew himself closer to her as his lips found itself near her ears and whispered softly. "Your prince. He will come."


At the back of her mind, Emma remembered a vivid memory.

She lighted a candle and settled it on the well. It was already twilight. Had she found out about it earlier she wouldn't have quarreled against him, she would have be kind at him. And now, he would be gone. She will never see him gain or ever. He will be her sweet memory, a profound hope when she was alone and a hopeless cause. She sniffed trying to pull back the tears stinging on her eyes. She would not cry but it hurts. She will be left alone again like before with no parents nor siblings and friends to remain by her side.

"Someday, I will come." He said as she wiped her tears with the back of her hand. Promises again. Promises that are meant to be broken.

"You're not a prince." Remembering the fairytales the nuns used to tell her. She suppressed a cry but it didn't do better. She outpoured all the tears she could muster. There was no way she could make him stay. He wasn't from there.

I'm a wisp. Loud and clear she remembered his words. It was a poison to her ears.

"I may not be, but I will come. I promise you, I will come back." The boy said as the sun sets down the vast horizon, she could see him fading. And as darkness paints the sky, so was the tiny sparks starts to light the night. She looked at him and the smug smile on his face was etched on his fading face.


Everyone's gonna kill me. I've tried my very best to stay on my focus for the story I've mentioned on my summary but I don't know why my brain's gone berserk and hauling me to write whatever it wants. I'm soo done. As of now, I envisioned it to be incorporated with Killi-pan theory.. *soooobs*

Reviews please and if you have some time, check out Once upon in Neverland FF written by me. I'll see you in a bit guys. I will work of OUIN.