Chapter Text
“I sent him an email posing as a student asking about his office hours and if I could meet with him to discuss a paper I'm working on.” Mulan looks very smug as she recounts every detail of the plan to Emma; and rightly so, because meeting at Killian Jones' office on campus is the perfect rendez-vous. Not only is he guaranteed to be there if he thinks he has to meet with a student, but it will be private and will make it easy to take control over the situation, should any possible hitch occur. Emma raises her eyebrows, impressed with the simplicity of it. “Just in case there is anyone listening in, I found an audio jammer for you. It's small, and you can slip it into your pocket.” Handing it over, she looks at her watch. “We settled upon 4:50, which is after his final class, so you have plenty of time to get over there and check out the location. Are you sure you want to go through with this, Emma?”
The worry does nothing to change Emma's decision. At this point, she thinks that trusting Killian Jones could benefit the both of them; it would be nice to have some more help out “in the field” as well as with intel-gathering. Killian might be a bit determined and hot-headed at times, but most of the time he listens to her and genuinely seems to care about her opinions. It's risky, but there's a reckless sense of desperation too; he is a part of her world the way the others aren't, not even Mulan. The sense of loss and purpose she can identify with, and despite everything he seems to be...lost; doesn't know what he's doing, if he'll ever accomplish his goal, overwhelmed. That's something she can identify with, too, and she feels as though she owes it to Hunter to repay his kindness by helping Killian find his footing just as Hunter helped her on the island. Mulan might be able to see that it's important to Emma, but not why.
“Yes. Thank you.” Holding up the audio jammer for a moment before placing it into the pocket of her red leather jacket, she draws a deep breath. “If all goes well, I'll bring him here in a few days.” It earns a dubious expression in response, but she doesn't have time to try and argue Mulan over to her side; it's time to go, and at least this time there's no need for a wardrobe change.
By the time her watch reads 4:45, Emma has already circled the building perimeter twice, walked the halls inside the building thrice, and come up with at least three concrete escape plans, should anything go awry. There are a few more forming a bit hazily in her mind, but they're only contingencies. Walking slowly up the three flights of stairs in the history building eats up some of her time, taking the slow pace to actually really appreciate her surroundings. Emma doesn't often have the luxury of just looking at times like this, and it makes her wonder just how much she's missed out on seeing. The architecture outside is simple but classic, and inside is full of cheaper imitations of luxury; marble and ornate molding along the ceiling, painted pillars and beautiful artwork hanging on the wall (donated by the Art Department) depicting various scenes from history. The staircase itself spirals up and out on two sides, with iron handrails with a curling tendril motif. There are muffled voices coming from each floor she passes until she reaches the fourth floor. The silence is almost unsettling after the bustling activity from the campus and the lower three floors, but then she realizes it's more tranquility than anything else. Behind each door is a possible maelstrom of papers to be graded, books to be read, notes for the creation of a lecture, and coffee stains on the rug.
Hook's office, room 402, is obvious when she sees it. It's not the little plaque that bears his name in stark white lettering, but the pictures of pirates pasted all over a cork-board that give it away. Rolling her eyes up to the ceiling and wondering what kind of idiot she's really dealing with, she raps her knuckles on a grizzled face. Given permission to enter, she pushes through and looks around her at his office. This is the only part of her plan that she can't have accounted for, having never seen his office in person. She did break into someone else's office on the floor, but there was no guaranteeing that his looked exactly the same. It was cleaner, if anything, which surprised her. The amount of organization in here was rather impressive, and she locked the door behind her, hiding her actions from him as she stole a hand into her pocket to activate the audio jammer device, wanting to take no chances that anyone could listen in on them.
“So, Miss--ah, Emma. Did you bring the notes you wished to discuss? Please, take a seat.”
He gestures toward a chair placed before his desk, but she ignores him and instead makes a bit of a show of wandering by and inspecting the books on the shelf behind him. “This is a nice place you got, Captain.”
“I beg your pardon?”
The offended incredulity in his voice makes her want to laugh. She had surely known just how entertaining this would be for her, and with the knowledge that if she changes her mind, she can keep her own secret safe by not telling him how she knows about his more interesting extracurricular activities. “Sorry, Professor Jones.”
“Yes. It's not the correct title, either. I was never captain in Her Majesty's navy, merely a lieutenant. Now, I am rather busy, so if you please,” He gestures again to the chair placed before him with some impatience.
“No, I don't please. And I didn't mean that you were a captain, merely that it was another...name. One that you've earned on land rather than on sea.”
“I'm afraid I've no idea what you mean,” He replies stiffly. “If you're only here to waste my time, I'd kindly ask you to make yourself scarce.”
Huffing out her nose in laughter at the petulant tone, Emma leans her hands flat on his desk, capturing his wary gaze knowing that the glee in hers is probably aggravating him even more. “You know, without your hook, you're much less threatening. Captain.”
“Who are you?” Killian glares up at her defiantly.
“A friend, if you play your cards right.”
“Are you blackmailing me?”
There's a note of amusement to his words mixed with the disbelief, and she laughs this time, disposing herself in the chair, she regards him with a knowing smile. “No, of course not. Or...well, yes, in a way, I suppose. If you want to look at it like that. I have a sort of...proposition to put to you, Captain Hook.” A narrowing of his eyes makes her hope that perhaps he finally has some sort of suspicion as to her alter-identity. “I think that we can help each other out. I think I can trust you; my friend disagrees, but I'm hoping you'll prove her wrong. The name's Charming, by the way. Yes, that Emma Charming.”
Killian's gaze sweeps her up and down a few times before he gets up and approaches, peering closer at her face with suspicion. “Have we met before? How do you know about...that?”
“How else could I know about it?”
There's a moment of disappointment at his inability to at least make a guess before his expression relaxes in what she can only call a moment of clarity. “Swan? That is you, isn't it? I'll be damned!”
“Probably,” Emma smirks as she stands up and holds out a hand, which he shakes a bit absently.
Killian is laughing at a particularly scathing quip Emma has just sent his way as they descend the stairs of her hideout, and it causes Mulan to turn around to watch them. There is no greeting smile, which Emma supposes she should have expected, and instead of acknowledging Emma, Mulan has a warning scowl on her face as she watches Killian, posture holding that strained appearance as though she's poised and ready to attack should he make one false step.
“Killian, this is my friend, Mulan.”
Stretching forward a hand paired with a grin, the frosty impassiveness that he meets causes him to flex his hand as it drops to his side.
“If you do anything to jeopardize either Emma's safety or my own, I won't hesitate to take you down.” There's not a flicker of emotion marring the steady expression on Mulan's face, and Emma bites a lip as she watches Killian adopt what she can identify as a rather forced smile.
“Wouldn't dream of it, mate.” As soon as Mulan's back is turned, he directs a look of inquiry at Emma before he notices the displayed array of weapons behind her. “Now that is certainly an impressive collection you have there, Swan.”
As he goes to investigate the trove of weapons she has at her disposal, along with the training course she has set up, Emma takes the chance to talk with Mulan. “Well that could have gone better.”
“I told you that I don't like this plan. How do you know you can trust him?”
“I just...you'll have to trust me, I guess. Besides, we know his secret, and I have much more money and power backing me up than he does. There's any number of ways to spin it that he's just trying to stir up trouble if he tries to out me to the press or anything.”
“That's not really what I'm worried about, Emma. What if he tells an enemy? What if he's working for the Evil Queen?”
It's something that has crossed her mind, and she looks over her shoulder at Killian as he's inspecting one of her arrows. “Then he'll wish he never met us.”
“What about Henry? Does he know about you and Captain Hook?”
“There is no me and Captain Hook, Mulan. It's not like that.”
“Don't deflect.”
“Yes, he knows about Captain Hook, but no, I don't think they should meet. That's the last thing I need.”
It's almost painful, sitting behind the computers as she keeps an eye on those two, but Mulan can't stop staring. Emma and Killian are practicing their hand-to-hand combat, and the scene before her is so unprofessional that it just hurts to watch. There's a stupid crooked grin on Killian's face as Emma takes him out, and to Mulan it's obvious that it's admiration written across his features. Emma lets out a peal of laughter as he brings her down beside him that rattles Mulan like nothing else; in all the time she's known Emma, any real display of emotions are few and far between and usually run toward the negative side. She's good at putting up a false, forced smile to others, but Mulan has come to know when the mask is up. The smile that Emma turns on Killian is bright and true, from the relaxed muscles of her mouth to the crinkling of her eyes. It's not just this one time thing; that would be startling enough, but it's worse. Her eccentric friend has been unusually...cheerful of late. Cheerful, but less focused.
Sometimes, Mulan isn't sure what to think; she definitely doesn't trust Killian Jones. Never has, maybe she never will. He's changed the dynamic of their situation, and his past and present purposes are known fully to him alone. As he's relatively new to the city, it's difficult to back up anything he says with actual evidence. It's possible that he's a spy working for the Evil Queen, they don't always keep tabs on what he does and where he goes when he's not with them. Emma and Mulan have done a very good job of thwarting a lot of the Evil Queen's enterprises, and have aided the Storybrooke police department in taking down one of her drug rings and uncovered the corrupt dealings of two businesses that Mulan had suspected were being used by the Queen to launder money. They've been careful, so careful, to keep everything a secret, but that's the trouble: a secret is hard to hold onto. If the Queen wanted to infiltrate the Savior's ranks, what better way than to present a possible ally? Especially one as charming as the image Hook presented. It's what Mulan would have done, and the Queen must be a brilliant woman to control such an extensive web of criminal activity.
That being said...as she tilts her head and glances up at them for the umpteenth time, Killian bears all the marks of someone who is being open and honest. She knows about Emma's weird talent for being able to tell when people are lying, and she wants to believe that it always works without fault, but what are the chances that there isn't a single person in the world who can trick her? Maybe a part of Emma just wants to believe in him, and that alone can be disastrous, misleading the way she reads every situation where he is involved. It's a flirtation she's watching unfold before her, unable to stop it from progressing, and Mulan feels more nervous than she has since she first joined up with the Charming scion. Their moods seem to have an inverse relationship; the higher the sparring pair's seem to get, the more dour Mulan becomes. There's only one thing to do, and that's to make sure that she just sits down with Emma and voices her concerns—after all, that is part of the reason why Emma brought her into the enterprise in the first place; because she speaks her mind.
For now, she tries to concentrate on tracking the communications of a potential lead on a problematic mob boss named Mr. Gold. Word has it that he's in league with the Queen, and this is the closest they've been in ages. To Mulan, it speaks volumes that instead of being over here taking in all the information and going out and pursuing the lead in person, Emma is play fighting with her English boy toy, and when a text message pops up on her phone from Belle, she decides that she'll take a break herself and doesn't bother to interrupt the couple when she slips out and heads off to the diner.
When Henry finds out that they've taken Hook on as an ally, it's all he can talk about. Emma supposes that it's only natural, after all; there's something irresistible about a pirate vigilante character, especially if you're a young boy who reads too many comic books. She tells him as much, but it makes no difference. Knowing what will happen with how determined he can be, she concedes.
She and Killian are working on her sword-fighting; turns out that he's more than proficient despite her belief that he was merely boasting, and as she's never really learned how to wield one with finesse it works out well. They're taking a break when they realize they have an audience and Killian walks over, sheathing his sword at his hip, to introduce himself to Henry. “Hello, lad. I've heard much about you. You've a fencer's look to you, and that happens to be my specialty. If you've an interest, Henry, perhaps sometime after school you could join your sister in her lessons.”
Emma swallows a smile and shoves him out of the way. “Don't listen to him. You're not allowed to touch any weapons until you're at least eighteen.” Henry rolls his eyes and she grabs him by the shoulders and turns him back toward a chair, throwing a wide eyed warning look in Killian's direction. Ducking out of her hands, Henry moves around her and goes back over to Hook. Emma is about to join them when she feels a firm touch at her shoulder. Turning to frown questioningly back at Mulan, her open expression falls at the serious, anxious look in Mulan's. “Oh no, don't tell me that the lead from last night didn't pan out. I'm not sure I could take Mr. Gold's men by surprise again.” Mulan shakes her head and draws her off to the side. “Well...there's something bothering you?” It's phrased as a question, but it's really more of an observation. Emma doesn't like that look, it means that Mulan has something to say that she knows Emma won't want to hear. There's a stubbornness to Emma that rears up preemptively, and she tries to remain open to whatever Mulan has to say.
“You know, you've been smiling. A lot.”
That's a surprise and a half, Emma's brow furrows as she glances upward, processing and attempting to figure out where this is going. “Uh...” She flings a hand out as though asking for Mulan to elaborate.
“It's weird. It's more than weird, it's...unusual. Ever since I've met you, you've genuinely smiled no more than three times in my presence. Five days ago, you actually laughed. What's changed?”
It really means nothing, Emma will swear up and down that she only glances over to Hook and Henry to make sure they're not listening. When her gaze flicks back, Mulan is looking at them as well. The expression on her face can be described as nothing other than pinched, and when she turns her accusatory stare back onto Emma, it makes her feel a little guilty. “If you're going to tell me that's a bad thing, I'm not really sure you understand the way life works.”
“It's not that you're feeling less...reserved or restrained or whatever. If you feel that you have more reasons to smile, then I'm glad Emma, I really am. I want you to be happy, what kind of person would I be if I didn't? I just...” Mulan glances once more at Hook, displaying his dramatic flair in the one-man show of swordsmanship he's putting on for Henry's entertainment. “I'm worried that you're putting your faith with someone that we don't know yet. I won't bring it up again after this unless you want to, but I can't just sit by and keep quiet. I won't. Your neck isn't the only one that's being stuck out there, and although I'm willing to risk my own well-being to protect people, I'm not going to just trust some guy who waltzes in and--” Mulan breaks off, looking as though she's just realized that it's beginning to turn into a rant. Drawing a deep breath, she shrugs and completes her thought. “I'm just questioning whether or not it's a good idea to trust him so much, so soon. Obviously you know more about him than I do, and I'm not asking for you to tell me his every secret. I just want to make sure that you're approaching him from as objective a stance as you can, because lately I'm not sure it's really much of a joke about you being sweet on him anymore.”
Emma's jaw is clenched, and as Mulan finishes she realizes that her fists are clenched as well. She tried to be calm, but she can't help but be offended that Mulan doesn't have faith in her and her ability to analyze the situation. As though she would just trust any random person who came up to her! It has taken a lot of thought for her to trust Hook this much, even, and Mulan doesn't even know the entire situation, she doesn't have all the facts. Emma considers turning the conversation back on Mulan and accusing her of being obstinately untrusting despite the lack of evidence against Killian, but she has enough restraint to merely raise her eyebrows and shrug in annoyance. “Thank you for your opinion, I'll certainly take it into account.” Her voice is stiff, and Mulan's nostrils flare, but there's no further interaction between them. They stare at each other for a moment before breaking apart, both continuing about their business in disappointment, mumbling irritated words in breathy tones to themselves.