Synopsis: "When I win your heart…and I will win it…it will not be because of any trickery. It will be because you want me." Falling through the time portal alone, Emma must find a way back home without disrupting the course of her future. Despite her intentions of avoiding the past versions of all her Storybrooke acquaintances, a chance encounter with a persistent pirate captain may prove that true love really is timeless. Canon Divergence/Captain Swan/First Person POV

Disclaimer: I make no profit from the writing and sharing of this work. All characters are property of ABC and Once Upon a Time. I am merely borrowing them. ;)

A/N: This story was born from reading fandom musings that perhaps Killian DID remember meeting Emma as a bar wench. If that's the case, then it certainly brings new meaning to many of his lines: "I was hoping it would be you…" "It's about time…" "It's called trust…" "When I win your heart…" and the list goes on, and on, and on. So I decided to give life to the theory by altering the events of the finale (for fun; I agree it was pretty perfect as it was) and present you with this Canon Divergence version of Emma and past!Killian establishing a future timeline which would explain some of present!Killian's most memorable lines. It starts out quite angsty, but will become romantic. Rated M for some violence, language, and sexual content.

Chapter 1

Running Without Direction

"One of these days I'm going to stop chasing this woman."

I pushed aside a low-hanging branch and winced as I caught my foot on a fallen log, my ankle tender from the fall through the portal and the hours of hiking I'd done since. The soft purple haze of twilight had begun to blot out the golden hue of the day. Through the pillars of evergreens, I could just make out the telltale blaze of torches in the distance. At least, I hoped that was what they were. I'd been using their glow as a heading for what seemed like hours; moving nonstop since I'd barely evaded a legion of black-clad knights while confronting the truth about my current whereabouts. Staring at the face of my mother emblazoned on a wanted poster had quickly cleared up the where and when of my location.

"One of these days I'm going to stop chasing this woman."

Bending at the waist, I rubbed my sore ankle and drew in several long breaths, willing my mind to focus on nothing but the task of finding shelter and food. At least for tonight. Tomorrow…tomorrow would be an entirely different endeavor. I was stuck in the past with no clue how to get back. My pulse pounded wildly in my veins, both from the exertion of the hike and…more. But I had no time to dwell on emotional pain, not when my actual safety could very well be threatened. I'd spent most of my life alone; this should be no different. Standing straight, I pushed forward through the brush, committed to keep moving physically even if my brain continued to root itself in things I couldn't change.

"One of these days I'm going to stop chasing this woman."

The words played through my mind like a badly scratched record left neglected in a neighboring room. No matter how I tried to ignore them, they were there, insisting that I acknowledge them and adding to the immense ache lodged in my chest. Forsaking my permission, faces appeared in my thoughts: Henry, Mary Margaret and David, and him…Hook.

I could still feel the smooth leather of his sleeve against my fingertips, reliving the moment my grip had slipped and sent me careening into the time portal. For a fleeting second, I'd expected to see him falling with me. Somehow, even without realizing it, I'd come to expect Hook to follow me to the ends of the world. Or time, as it were. But I'd hit the ground alone, gifted with only the echo of his parting words as the swirling void closed above my head.

"One of these days I'm going to stop chasing this woman."

Apparently that day had arrived. Not that I blamed him; I'd done little to nothing to encourage his devotion. I didn't believe in leading people on, and I'd been serious about going back to New York City. But you expected him to follow you there, admit it. A swell of disappointment and guilt lodged itself in my throat, making it difficult to swallow. It didn't matter what I expected; not anymore.

"Focus, Emma!" I chastised myself. The torches grew nearer as the trees thinned. I could make out the shape of cobblestone buildings and hear the clamor of people. Oddly enough, the scent of saltwater and seaweed tinged the air. Or perhaps my mind's refusal to leave his memory behind was playing tricks on me. I eased forward cautiously, using the few trees as cover until I reached a large bush several feet before the forest gave way to civilization.

I'd apparently come upon a small town. Men and women attired in muted shades of rough-hewn cloth scattered along the promenade, engaged in the expected tasks of closing up shop. I smoothed my hands along my own attire, conscious of how very different my modern clothes were to those of the Enchanted Forest. I doubted that red leather – no matter the shade – and denim ever came into fashion here. Scanning the closest building, I noticed a variety of garments left to dry on a clothesline. Making the decision to wait until the street cleared a bit more before 'borrowing' a new outfit, I moved to settle behind a nearby tree and continued watching the quaint scene before me.

Idly, I wondered how many of these people would wind up in Storybrooke when Regina enacted the curse. Had we passed one another in town before? Made polite conversation? Dined at Granny's at the same time? It seemed likely we had. There were plenty of people in Storybrooke that I'd yet to really meet. Not to mention, some faces were just harder to remember than others.

The sudden cracking of a branch beneath nearby footsteps drew my attention back to the forest. A small figure swathed under a bulky cloak emerged from the tree line, a bow strapped to his or her back. I crouched lower to the ground to stay hidden, cringing when my own movements snapped a twig under my boot heel. The figure glanced in my direction and I gasped. There, not ten paces from me stood my mother. Snow White.

I opened my mouth to call out to her before the loud whinnying of a horse jolted my thoughts back to the present. Or rather the past. This woman was not my mother. Not yet. To speak with her could have detrimental effects on the future, not to mention my own existence. Drawing back into the shadows, I held my breath until she continued on her way. I watched as she crept along the row of buildings before rounding a corner and disappearing out of sight.

An overwhelming surge of loneliness overtook me. I'd grown used to doing things on my own and relying solely on myself, but it wasn't until that moment that I realized how much I had let others into my heart since Henry knocked on my door two years ago. Even with my walls firmly in place, I'd come to accept my family as a fixture in my life, no matter where we called home. It was like I'd recently admitted to Killian…Hook; I did care about them. All of them. But I didn't think I needed them. Though, seeing my own mother as a stranger hurt. I really was alone now.

I waited nearly an hour longer before crossing the dirt road and pulling down the first recognizable set of women's clothes from the drying line. The stealing of the clothes turned out to be easier than the donning of them. The peasant blouse and billowing skirt were simple enough, but as I twisted the corset into place and adjusted the lacing, I couldn't help but wish for an extra hand. How the hell does Killian manage to dress himself in these fairy tale get-ups with only one hand? My thoughts silently mused before I shoved them aside. Thinking about him would get me nowhere.

Covering myself with a cloak similar to the one my mother was wearing, I tucked my hair under the hood and gathered my modern clothing in a burlap sack. Who knew when or how I'd manage to find a way home? In the meantime, it seemed prudent not to leave anything behind. Like you were, my conscience remarked.

"One of these days I'm going to stop chasing this woman."

I exhaled sharply and forced my feet to move. My first steps into the town were hesitant before I realized how ridiculous I was acting. No one in this time knew me. As long as I didn't make a memorable impression on anyone, I was free to move about and mind my own business. If anything, acting paranoid and stealthy would just call more attention to me. 'Fake it 'til you make it' was a common expression in my time. I was an experienced con and a professional bounty hunter; surely I could blend in at least for a little while. I'd been to the Renaissance Faire before. Once.

I unconsciously traced the path I'd seen Snow White follow. Really, in a town this small, there were few places to explore. As I rounded the buildings, the street descended down a steep hill toward a busy marina. "That explains the smell of the ocean," I mumbled to myself as I carefully dodged piles of manure and other unidentifiable hazards. I'd apparently discovered the main thoroughfare of the town, which was surprisingly lively given the time of night. Though, judging by the costumed women and the drunken men I passed as I walked, I wasn't sure I wanted any part of the action surrounding me. One building in particular seemed to be the focal point. Raucous laughter and cheerful music spilled out into the street. I would've bypassed it entirely if not for the accompanying scent of roasting meat and ale. My stomach rumbled painfully as my mouth watered. I paused to peer in through the filthy windows, noting the crowd feasting within.

And just what do you think you're going to pay with? It's not like the men in there will buy you a drink for free.

Ignorant as I was to this land, I imagined any man willing to buy my dinner would expect some kind of payment in return. I somehow doubted offering to wash dishes would get me very far, either. "Stealing it is," I whispered, less than impressed at how quickly I seemed to revert to my criminal past. Though perhaps for once it was justified.

I slipped through the doorway and lost myself in the mesh of people crowded near the small band. The lively music was nearly dwarfed by the thick press of drunken revelry and the sound of dice dancing across wooden tabletops. I felt my eyes widen as I took in the scene, all of my senses on full attack in this compressed microcosm of medieval society. Ladies of the night sat in the laps of men who were more than three sheets to the wind while less comely faces looked on in envy. Several dogs lay slumbering at the feet of their masters, and across the room, a brawl was well on its way to becoming a fight to the death. I shook my head and took a deep breath, trying to focus my composure amidst all the distraction.

I crept into a corner near a table laden with half-full platters. Its occupants – two greasy looking elderly men who'd clearly seen better days – were busily recounting a story about a bet gone wrong. I only half listened until I heard a name I recognized.

"I'm tellin' ya it woz 'im; the Dark One. He turned 'im inta a shrew for not payin' the 'greed upon price," the first man explained before taking a large bite out of the turkey leg he held in his fist.

"Its rubbish! The Dark One has nae been seen in these parts for years," the second one replied.

As they argued, I reached behind them and grabbed a slice of thick brown bread, hiding it in the folds of my cloak. Their mention of Rumpelstiltskin sparked an idea: would he know a way to travel back to the future? Before Regina's curse?

"Well then I'm guessin' he's back. No doubt he'll be just as nasty as the last time," the first man spoke through a mouthful of food before reaching over and picking up a tankard of ale, sloshing half the contents onto his shirt as he washed down his dinner.

"I still say he's holed up in that castle. Heard he stole some nobleman's lass to keep as a slave," the second man continued.

My lips twitched as I recognized the story they were telling. Belle. They were talking about Belle. She'd told me this tale herself one morning over breakfast as we planned how to get Gold back from Zelena. Well, at least I now had a lead on where to start. True, I had no idea where Rumpelstiltskin's castle was, but no matter what time period I was in, there would always be someone around with loose lips.

I crept my hand forward again, intent on stealing one of the untouched turkey legs just as the tavern door crashed against the stone wall. A group of men ambled in, somehow louder than the combined noise of all the people already gathered.

"Make way for the most blood-thirsty, feared band of pirates to ever set sail!" Exclaimed an all-too-familiar voice.

"Oh shit!" I cried as my heartbeat thundered in my chest. Leading the aforementioned band of pirates was none other than him…Captain Hook.

I felt the blood drain from my head, causing me to sway where I stood. No. My thoughts screamed. No, no, no! Forcing my feet to move, I did the only thing I could in that moment: I fled, knocking over a chair as I lunged from the corner toward the open door.

"Thief!" A shrill voice cut over the din of the room. "Stop her!"

I shoved past the crowd of bodies out into the cool night, intending to race back to my hiding spot in the woods. But as I ran, I realized I'd turned the wrong way, heading toward the dark water of the open ocean rather than the comfort of the thick forest. The towering masts of ships grew taller as I ran, and I cursed my ignorance as I recognized the familiar sails of the Jolly Roger. How had I missed it before?

He's not supposed to be here, I thought angrily. Though who I was angry at in that moment was yet to be determined. He's supposed to be in Neverland! Or was he? I'd only assumed he stayed in Neverland until meeting up with Cora, seeing as he hadn't aged, but what was it they said about people who assumed? Call me an ass, I guess.

I kept my pace until I literally ran out of space to run. Cobblestones and dirt turned into wooden planks stretching out into the murky water. My eyes scanned the array of ships a bit frantically, seeking a temporary hiding place. I refused to even consider his ship. What a shit storm that would create! Barrels and crates waiting to be loaded decorated the boardwalk, though I quickly discarded them as suitable hiding places. I crept further along the edge of the water as my mind rallied for a solution.

The approaching sound of hurried footsteps and stirred voices sent a wave of anxiety rioting in my veins. I turned my head wildly before deciding to take my chances further down the boardwalk. The line of buildings ended abruptly about ten yards away. If I could just reach the corner, I could duck out of sight and make my way back to the forest. My boots made loud clapping noises against the aged wooden boards as I ran, all the while peering over my shoulder to track the progress of my pursuers. But just as I neared the corner of the last building, my foot caught in my ridiculously long skirt. I threw my hands out to brace myself for the painful impact I knew was coming. Only, it never did.

A set of strong arms wrapped around my waist and pulled me against a solid chest. Looking up, I met a pair of sapphire blue eyes I never expected to see up close again.

"Hello, love. Might I offer you a hand?"

A/N: So, should I keep going? Are you intrigued?

Thank you for reading. I would love to know your thoughts. Review? Please?