A/N: Thank you guy so much for reviewing! I really appreciate it, and many thanks to: pinktulip, Raconteur, littleweb, partin, and DeborahJ. You guys are the coolest.

Chapter Five - The Jolly Roger

The one nice thing about Storybrooke was the lack of catastrophic disasters. Maybe it was because Emma had spent the past twelve years living in New York City, but Storybrooke was tame by comparison. Although, one problem with the lack of imminent disaster and exciting news was that things stayed relevant a lot longer. It didn't really become apparent until Saturday morning when Emma and Henry headed down to Granny's for breakfast.

They slid into a booth and Emma felt the first eyes on her. A quick look showed Leroy, one of the town's handymen, staring at her. He was sharing a table with their receptionist from the station, Astrid, and as soon as Astrid caught him staring at Emma and Henry, she pulled him away.

"What are we going to do this weekend?" Henry asked.

"That depends," Emma said, ordering pancakes from Ruby and a cup of coffee. "What do you want to do?"

Henry considered and inhaled the whipped cream from the top of his hot chocolate. "What are my options?"

"Whatever you want," Emma said, wondering as she said it if those words were about to get her into a situation she really didn't want any part of.

"How about-"

Henry's suggestion was cut off by a gasp.

"Emma?" the woman asked. She had brown curls piled on top of her head and bright turquoise eyes, only slightly marred by purple shadows from a lack of sleep. Emma was ready to attribute the lack of rest to the three year old holding her hand and the pram in front of her.

"Belle," Emma said, standing up. As she and Belle embraced with only the smallest trace of awkwardness, she realised Henry was staring at them. "Uh, Henry, this is one of my friends from high school, Belle."

"It's lovely to meet you, Henry," Belle said, smiling at him. "Are you two just in for breakfast?"

"Yeah," Emma agreed, counting on all her luck that Mr Gold wasn't going to be joining his wife. "Is it just the three of you eating?"

"Oh, no," Belle said. "My father's joining us in a few minutes, actually. We should go get a table. It was nice to see you again. We should get together at some point, catch up."

"Sure," Emma said, managing to smile albeit weakly. "Enjoy your breakfast."

"You too," Belle said, beaming at her and Henry before taking her small children off to their own booth.

Emma let out a sigh of relief that Mr Gold wasn't joining them and realised Henry was watching her with suspicious eyes.

"If you guys were friends then why do you look like that?" Henry asked, slurping more whipped cream off his cocoa.

"What do I look like?" Emma asked.

Henry pulled a face, his eyes wide and his teeth bared.

"I don't look like that," Emma said, shaking her head at him. Henry shrugged as if to say he knew better since he could actually see her face. "I don't get along very well with Belle's husband."

"Why not?" Henry asked.

"It's complicated," Emma said, grateful that Ruby appeared with their breakfast at that moment. "So what were you going to say we do today?"

"Either…go exploring in the woods, or go exploring the Jolly Roger," Henry suggested.

"I thought Ruby already took you to see the ship," Emma said.

"Yeah, but I didn't get to go on it," Henry replied. "And what's the fun of a pirate ship if you can't go on the pirate ship?"

Emma conceded the point, since she had once stowed away on it as a child. Well, no, she was fourteen not a child, but whatever.

"Alright, which would you rather do?" Emma asked.

Henry considered and decided on the Jolly Roger. Emma agreed and they spent the rest of breakfast discussing Henry's favourite classes at school. The obvious choice was Mary-Margaret's social studies class, since they got to read in it, and he didn't really like science or math very much.

The walk down to the docks was blustery and cold and Emma found herself hoping the ship was going to be closed for the day due to inclement weather. She didn't have that much luck, she discovered, when they walked up to find the crew swarming the deck.

"Ahoy!" a voice shouted from the main deck of the ship as they approached. Before Emma could try to figure out who it was, Killian Jones swung over the side on a rope and landed on the dock. To Emma's surprise, he wasn't dressed in full pirate's gear. Rather he was in civilian clothes from this, the twenty-first century.

"No excursions today?" Emma asked as Henry ran for the side of the ship, peering eagerly through the portholes.

"Maintenance and repair," Killian replied. "Is this your son?"

"Yeah," Emma said.

"Are you the captain?" Henry asked, running back towards them and staring up at Killian with wide eyes.

"Aye, lad," Killian replied.

"You don't look like a pirate," Henry said, the barest hint of disappointment in his voice.

"Well, see, I've got to pretend to be one of these normal landlubbers sometimes," Killian replied. "What about you? Do you have sea legs?"

"I don't know, I've never been on a boat," Henry said.

"Never been on a-" Killian started, aghast. "That's a tragedy, that. Care to come aboard?"

"Can I?" Henry asked. His whole face lit up and Killian nodded, pointing him the way of the gangplank. Henry was gone before Emma could say anything.

"Robin!" Killian called, and Robin's head appeared above the gunwale. "Look after young Mr Swan, would you?"

Robin nodded and disappeared from view.

"Thank you," Emma said. "For letting him aboard. He's eleven, so he's big into pirates."

"And I don't look quite enough like Captain Jack Sparrow for his tastes?" Killian guessed, grinning at her. His smile was unsettlingly bright.

"Not quite," Emma agreed.

"He'll have to come back when we're doing one of our pirate cruises," Killian said. "Next Friday afternoon."

"Maybe for a Christmas present," Emma said. Killian shrugged.

"Would you like a tour, Deputy Swan?" he asked.

"I've seen it, Captain Jones," Emma replied.

"Have you?" Killian asked, sounding curious. "When?"

"David and I stowed away when we were in high school," Emma said. "Your brother made us work in the galley."

"That's hardly a tour," Killian replied, and Emma found herself walking up the gangplank with him. On deck, she found Henry coiling thick ropes with the help of Will Scarlet, a floppy red kit cap on his head and a scabbard hanging from his belt.

"Please tell me that's not a real knife," Emma said.

"Mom, look!" Henry exclaimed, pulling out a thankfully wooden dagger from the scabbard. "Isn't it cool?"

"It's awesome," Emma replied. From elsewhere on the deck, a tiny child no older than five wriggled out of his minder's grasp and ran for the captain's legs.

"Uncle Killi – Smee-" the boy gasped, hiding behind Killian's knees while a short, portly man ran towards them.

"Mr Smee," Killian said, effectively stopping the man in his tracks.

"Seriously?" Emma asked. "You go by Captain Hook and you've got a guy named Mr Smee on the ship?"

"Morning, Deputy," Mr Smee replied, reaching up like he meant to doff a hat to her. He wasn't wearing one. "Killian, Roland took my hat."

"Nonsense, Smee," Killian said. "Clearly, young Mr Swan has your hat, and I'm relatively sure our young Mr Locksley doesn't know how to steal yet."

Mr Smee turned to stare at Henry and glared at the red hat on his head.

"Scarlet!" Mr Smee exclaimed, charging at Will and making to grab him. Before he could get there, Will scrambled up the rigging and disappeared onto one of the crossbeams of the mast. Emma had to appreciate his climbing and balance skills, and definitely understood why David had felt compelled to put him in handcuffs inside his cell.

"Henry, give Mr Smee his hat back," Emma said.

Henry looked disappointed, but handed the contested garment back to its rightful owner.

"Now, I believe I offered you a tour," Killian said as Mr Smee pulled his hat on with a disturbing amount of enthusiasm.

The Jolly Roger was exactly as Emma remembered it. Granted, she'd only seen the cargo hold, the galley, and the route between the two, but the rest was exactly as she would've pictured it. The cabins were furnished alternately with bunks and hammocks, for use depending on whether one was sailing for the sake of piracy or eighteenth century splendour.

"So when it's one of the high society voyages, you don't still dress up like a pirate do you?" Emma asked as Killian showed them the galley. He offered Emma a job heating up spiced rum and she rolled her eyes.

"No, then we're gentlemen sailors from Her Majesty's navy," Killian replied.

"What's in there?" Henry asked, grabbing a doorknob and opening it before Killian could stop him. Emma tried to call him back, but it was too late and Henry was inside the cabin. Tall windows showed a view over the harbour. The desk was scattered with nautical charts and a collection of old maps. A double bed was built into the side of the wall like the berths in the passengers' quarters, except this bed looked very slept in.

"Do you live here?" Henry asked, staring at Killian in awe.

"I do," Killian replied. "Say, I know your aunt Mary-Margaret is the one who teaches the archery summer camps, but if you're interested, I bet Robin would give you a few lessons up on deck right now."

"Mom can I?" Henry asked, giving her the biggest pleading eyes Emma had ever seen.

"Sure," she said. "Please be very safe."

Henry thanked both of them profusely and sprinted out of Killian's home. Emma let Killian usher her out of the cabin and back into the hallway.

"Sorry about him," she said. "He gets very excited about things."

"Don't apologise for a child's curiosity," Killian replied, shutting the door to his cabin and locking it. "I meant to lock it. It's not really common knowledge that I sleep here, so-"

"Your secret's safe with me," Emma said. "Is Henry going to be safe with Robin teaching him how to shoot arrows?"

"Absolutely," Killian replied. "He's great with his own son, so I imagine he won't be too terrible with yours."

Emma cringed, which Killian mistook for concern over the fact Robin was a father.

"He's a good father," Killian assured her, looking ready to defend his friend.

"No, it's not that," Emma said, following him back to the deck. "It's just that no one can mention Robin without bringing up how ugly his divorce is, and if there's a kid involved-"

"Ah," Killian said. "Yes, it's…not pretty."

They reached the deck then and saw Robin teaching Henry how to string a bow, how to hold his arm up correctly, how to hold the arrow. Henry's grin stretched across his entire face. Emma wasn't sure she'd ever seen him quite as happy as he was here in Storybrooke.

"Thanks," she said.

"For what?" Killian asked.

"Your ship was closed for the day but you let Henry see it," Emma said. "So thank you."

"It's no trouble," Killian said. "Besides, you're the sheriff. I dread to think what you'd have done to me if I'd told you to bugger off."

Emma turned to scold him, insist that she would never abuse her position as deputy simply because a pirate had refused her access to his ship, but she realised he was grinning. She shook her head and turned back to watch Henry have the time of his life.

OOooOOooOOooOO

Regina glanced at the clock in dismay while she ran from the bathroom to her closet. She was late, she was so very late. She hadn't been late for anything since…actually, she couldn't remember the last time she'd been late. She'd been too late to do things – fix her marriage, prevent her wayward little sister from running away, make amends with her parents – but she'd always been punctual.

She smoothed her shirt and tucked it into her skirt, grabbing her boots and pulling them back into the bedroom. There was a convenient bench at the foot of her bed that made putting shoes on easy, and as long as she didn't stare at the absolute mess that was the bedclothes, she'd be able to get to the office before she was officially late. She stepped into one boot and set her foot up on the bench to zip it, but a hand wrapped around the top of her calf and lips pressed against the top of her leg.

"I'm going to be late," she said, zipping her boot and trying to pull her leg out of his grasp.

"So be late," Robin replied. "Better yet, call in sick. Stay here."

"I'm the mayor," Regina said, just the faintest hint of admonishment in her tone. "I don't get to play hooky."

She tugged her leg out of Robin's hand and put her other foot on the bench to zip up her second boot. Robin pouted at her with absolutely devastating puppy-dog eyes and Regina had to look away.

"I have to go," she said, avoiding her boyfriend's gaze. She also avoided remembering that he was naked beneath the sheets. "Are you going to be here tonight?"

"If it's alright with you," Robin replied. "Roland's gone back to his mum's, so I'm free."

"Right," Regina said, ignoring the stabbing sensation under her ribcage at the mention of Robin's adorable son and his legally separated, soon to be ex-wife. More importantly, she had to ignore the various threats Marian Locksley had made regarding Robin and Roland. If she'd made up with Ingrid and Leonard before they died, she might have been able to get Leonard to use his influence on the local judges, but now David was sheriff, and even if he'd certainly help Robin, he also didn't have the same sort of influential power that Regina's father had possessed.

"I'll see you tonight," Robin said, catching her wrist on her way out of the room. He pulled her back for a kiss that stopped being appropriate several milliseconds after it started, and then let go of her.

"Tonight," Regina agreed, trying to suppress the flush spreading under her collar while she walked out of her room and down the stairs.

She made it to the office with seconds to spare before Town Hall was officially open to the public. Technically, she was under no contractual obligation to have the office open on a Sunday, but she was in the middle of developing a new playground near the school and the budget needed a serious going over with a fine toothed comb, and City Council was useless, so she had resorted to having office hours on Sundays. After all, there were seven days in the week and it didn't make sense not to use them. It wasn't like she had hobbies or friends, or even a social life until recently. But that had been true since she was little, starting around the moment Mary-Margaret was born and became the apple of their parents' eyes. Regina had tried, had done everything she could to stand out and make them proud, but in the process she'd also turned into a chronic workaholic and hadn't figured out how to recover from that yet. She hadn't even considered it to be a flaw to overcome until she met Robin. That was around the same time she realised her work schedule probably contributed more to the end of her marriage to Daniel than their differences about children had.

She was halfway through processing the morning's emails and memos when someone knocked on the office door.

"Come in," she called without looking up, assuming it was going to be her secretary.

"Mayor Swan?" a child asked.

Regina frowned for a second and then looked up from her computer with a smile on her face. The boy standing in her office was around eleven, holding a pie, and Regina didn't recognise him at all.

"Yes? How can I help you?" she asked.

"My aunt baked this," he said, setting the pie down on her desk. "I thought you might like a piece."

"Well that was very nice of you," Regina said, wondering what in God's name had possessed this small stranger to bring her pie. "Can I help you with anything else?"

The kid shrugged and invited himself to one of the chairs in her office. Regina glanced at the last email she'd been working on and then turned her attention to the boy. After all, the Maine Tourism Board could wait until Monday.

"Do your parents know where you are?" Regina asked.

"No," the kid said. "But I don't really have a dad."

"Your mother doesn't know where you are?" Regina asked. The kid shook his head. "Shouldn't you be at home?"

"Probably," he replied. "But she had to go to work so she's not there anyway."

"Where does your mother work?" Regina asked, getting ready to call the woman and inform her that her child had taken himself on a walk to Regina's office apparently with the sole intent of giving her pie.

"She's the deputy sheriff," the kid replied.

Regina paused with her finger over the keypad. "Excuse me?"

"My mom," the kid said. "She's the new deputy. David hired her the day we got here."

"Your mother is-" Regina started, scanning the boy's face for familiar features. The closest she got were green eyes that looked particularly like Emma and Mary-Margaret's.

"Emma Swan," the boy replied. "You're kind of my aunt."

Regina blinked and then glanced down at the pie on her desk. If Henry's aunt had baked it, that meant he knew Mary-Margaret. Emma had let Mary-Margaret meet Henry, but she hadn't even contacted Regina since returning to Storybrooke. Regina inhaled through her nose and exhaled through her mouth. Nothing good would come of blowing up in front of her nephew.

"The last time I saw you, your mother was still pregnant with you," Regina said, joining him in one of the chairs.

"I know," he replied. "And don't worry about my mom. She wasn't going to introduce me to Mary-Margaret either, but she's my teacher at school."

"Oh," Regina said, some of the pressure leaving her chest. She searched Henry's face again. This child had been the dividing factor between her and Emma. It hadn't been the years of childish feuds over things like Emma borrowing Regina's makeup without asking, it had been one single day, one massive fight, and twelve years of silence.

"Do you want to get hot chocolate?" Henry asked, smiling up at her.

Regina smiled softly at him. "I'd like that a lot."

Fun Fact: Pirates of the Caribbean is definitely fictional (aside from the obvious reasons) because of Barbossa's apple choices. The green apples the captain is so fond of are Granny Smith apples, which were first grown in 1868. The series takes place sometime in the eighteenth century.