Here's a little one-shot based on a Headcanon list I made on Tumblr about the Smee Twins, although they are not actually in this fic XD. Enjoy!

Harry ran as fast as he could, taking sharp turns down each new alleyway. His breathing was rapid, and his heart pounded in his chest. Regardless, he didn't slow his pace. He had to make sure he lost them.

The fifteen-year-old son of Captain Hook knew this part of the Isle like he knew the back of his own hand. This was the Wharf. He'd lived among the ships his whole life. It should have been easy to lose his pursuers. However, they knew the Wharf almost as well as he did.

Almost.

Harry finally made it to his sanctuary: Ursula's Fish and Chips. He burst through the doors and hastily threw his sheathed cutlass into the sword check. None of the customers paid him any attention as he stumbled around tables towards the kitchen. He pushed through the door leading to the kitchen and ran inside. Once he was sure that he was hidden, he crouched down under the window and peered over the edge. His blue eyes watched the entrance like a hawk, fearing the arrival of double trouble any second. After a few moments of stillness from the saloon-style doors, Harry let out a deep breath. His heart rate steadied, and he wiped a hand across his sweaty forehead. He finally felt safe.

"A little jumpy, are we?" Harry sprung up like a kangaroo at the sound of a voice beside him. The same voice let out an amused little laugh at his startled reaction, and Harry was relieved to find his good friend, Uma, crouching next to him. Her withering teal dress was covered by an old apron that was in desperate need of a wash. Her sleeves were rolled up, and a few stay drops of water gleamed on her hands. Her black-and-teal hair was pulled back in a frizzy low ponytail. As always, Harry caught himself looking at her longer than necessary, but he snapped out of it. Her melodic chuckle eased his nerves, but it also bruised his pride.

"Yeah yeah, laugh all ye want," Harry retorted dryly, rolling his eyes. It was unusual for Harry to use that kind of tone with Uma, and she noticed. Something must've been wrong.

"Damn, what's got you in such a sour mood?" Uma asked, leaving his side and crossing back over to the sink. She was on break from waitressing, which meant she was doing dishes. She plunged her hands back into the murky water, occasionally glancing up at Harry.

"I'm just tryin' to get these guys off my back," Harry groaned in frustration.

Uma sighed, "Who did you try to hook this time?" She was no stranger to Harry's violent tendencies, nor was she totally opposed to them. They were villain kids after all. However, if he was dragging trouble into her mother's store, Uma was going to be the one who has to clean up the mess.

"No–nobody," Harry sputtered, still looking out of the kitchen window. "I didn't try to hook anybody."

"That's a first," Uma remarked, grabbing some plate and scraping off what little food remained on it. "Did you piss off some upperclassmen again?"

"What? No!" Harry shouted, his frustration and adrenaline finally getting the better of him. "I didn't do anything!"

Uma stopped what she was doing and looked over at Harry, her eyes wide in annoyance and astonishment. He didn't look back at her, for he was too busy monitoring the doors of the Shoppe. In all their years of friendship, Harry rarely ever raised his voice at her. If he did, he usually acknowledged it immediately after and took back whatever he said, but this time was different. Uma didn't take well to disrespect. She was generally more tolerant with Harry because he was her only friend, but that didn't mean she was afraid to put him in his place.

"Hey Cook," Uma said to the redheaded woman at the other side of the kitchen. Her voice was even, but she carried some level of restraint in her tone. "Could you go outside and start my shift for me?"

"Alright," Cook agreed, taking off her cooking apron and reaching for a waitressing one. "But you'll owe me later."

Uma nodded her head, but she turned her eyes back to Harry, who remained focused on what was going on outside the window. After Cook was gone, Harry and Uma were alone in the kitchen. To get Harry's attention and to make sure no one watched them through the kitchen windows, Uma pulled the string that set loose the blinds. They gracelessly fell over the openings that gave view to the restaurant and effectively cut off Harry's sight to the doors. Harry took the message and turned his head to look at Uma, who was beside him once again.

"Look, I get that something's got you on edge right now," she stated sternly. Her tone was chastising yet steady, and that's what made Harry a little nervous. There were times when she was upset, but she hid it so well that he had no idea if she was mad or not. "But if you ran in here to take it out on me, then you can just leave."

Harry swallowed hard and stood up straight. He turned to face her a placed a hand on the counter, leaning some of his weight on it. He avoided looking at Uma's expectant glower as she waited for an apology. As a boy raised by pirates, moral courtesies like apologies were foreign to Harry. They should have been foreign to all villain kids, but Uma was a different breed. While upstarts like Mal rule their territory with fear, Uma commanded her followers–at this time, it was just Harry–through respect. It may have been unorthodox for the Isle, but she didn't have the advantage of fear. Very few people feared Shrimpy, the waitress at Ursula's Fish and Chips. She had to be different.

Harry fell into doing Uma's bidding as a kid, so he had nothing but respect for her (and maybe something else, but he won't figure that out for a while). Still, sticking to her code of conduct proved a challenge when it meant going against everything the Jolly Roger Crew taught him. He gnawed on the inside of his cheek until the feeling of her dark eyes boring into his face became too much for him. He met her gaze and conceded, "I'm sorry."

Uma's expression softened, and she patted his hand on the counter. At the contact, Harry felt the adrenaline from his run fade. She gave his hand a gentle squeeze before turning away and walking off. Any onlooker wouldn't know what to make of their silent exchange, but Harry and Uma were a unique pair. When words didn't cover what they wanted to convey, the smallest of contact sent the message loud and clear. What Harry felt just then was some combination of "Thank you" and "Calm down" and "I'm not going to throw you out."

"So, now that you've cooled down," Uma began as she approached the stove and pulled a tray off of the counter. The tray carried a meal that Uma prepared in advance every day: Harry's lunch. "Are you going to tell me what you're running from?"

Harry sighed, took his hat off, and set it down on the table in the center of the room. He grabbed two stools and pulled them up to the table before settling onto one of them. He kept his eye on the kitchen door, still paranoid over whether or not he was tracked down. "It's those damn twins," he answered forcefully.

"The Gaston Twins?" Uma queried with a quirk of her eyebrow. She set the tray of food in front of Harry before reaching behind her back and untying the apron. She pulled the garment up and over her head, threw it on the table, and sat on the stool next to Harry.

"Nah, the Smee Twins," Harry corrected with a roll of his eyes. He reached for a fry, but Uma also reached for one at the same time. Harry pulled his hand back and let her have the first pick while we went on. "Those little buggers won't leave me alone."

"The Smee Twins? Seriously?" Uma asked, a chuckle playing at her voice. She tried not to laugh at him out of their mutual pact of respect, but it was hard not to be amused. "Harry, aren't they, like, four years old?"

"They're five!" Harry exclaimed, dread eminent in his voice as he held up his hand and showed Uma four fingers. Her brows knit together, and she pressed her lips into a firm line. She reached up to his hand and uncurled his thumb, making the number of fingers match the age of the twins. Harry briefly looked at his hand in confusion before shaking his head and going back to the current matter. "My dad's been forcing me to babysit them since they were born! And now that they're old enough to leave the shipyard and go to school, they want to follow me everywhere."

"So what's the big problem?" Uma pointed out, "You're always going off about how you want your own crew."

"Yeah, of pirates," Harry asserted as he shoved a piece of fish fillet into his mouth and tried not to gag on what was most likely spoiled and polluted meat. He managed to force the food down and finish his thought. "Not snot-nosed little kids!"

Uma snickered at his predicament, but her grin soon fell into a solemn frown. She leaned her elbows on the table and looked down at her twiddling thumbs, something clearly eating at her mind. Harry looked over at her while he washed out the taste of bad fish with burnt coffee. She sighed and said, "It's not right. Little kids growing up in a place a like this."

Harry knew how Uma felt on this topic. She of all people knew when a deal wasn't fair. The villain children did nothing, so what gave King Adam the right to forsake them and leave them stranded on this water-locked Hell? It's beyond unfair! Uma argues it's less fair than her mother's deals, which is saying something.

"Yeah, well," Harry mused and cleared his throat to pull Uma's attention to him. He was set on cheering her up after inadvertently bringing them into a depressing subject. "We turned out fine."

Uma nodded in agreement and offered him a small smile. Her overall mood didn't seem to improve any, and she went back to looking at the wall ahead of her. Harry knew that face. She was planning scheming or plotting some way to get off the Isle and take all the poor, unfortunate, undeserving souls with her. It was times like these when Harry wished she would lighten up. He wanted to get off the Isle just as much as the next pirate, but he hated seeing Uma so distraught.

Harry took a different approach to change the mood, a sly smile creeping onto his face. He moved his food aside and leaned an elbow on the table, placing himself in Uma's peripheral vision. He puffed his chest slightly and looked her up and down, knowing she'd see him checking her out. "Some of us," he added, his brogue low and suggestive. "Turned out more fine than others."

Uma closed her eyes, but an undeniable smile slipped onto her lips. On any other witch, a smooth line from Harry would lead to weak knees and heart palpitations. Uma was one of the few who differed. She looked over at him, but she wasn't admiring his every move. She was silently judging him with a cross of amusement and annoyance, but that didn't deter him. Harry only pushed further, biting lip and flicking his eyebrows. Uma rolled her eyes, and her smile widened. Harry felt rather smug. He knew a little round of question-and-rejection would lift her spirits.

"Oh yeah?" She asked innocently, and Harry prepared himself for the rejection. He embraced it at this point. He still got a kick out of seeing her flustered for the split second before she shut him down. However, Uma surprised him when she stood up from her stool and moved closer to him. Harry kept his appearance confident, but he started to get excited when Uma placed her hand on his chest. She was leaning in close to him, and with him on the stool and her standing, it put her face right in front of his. Behind Harry's half-lidded eyes, his mind was spinning. He was wondering if this moment could finally be it. After flirting with her for the more recent years of their friendship, was Uma finally going to answer back?

Uma tilted her head and smirked, "And some of us run away from preschoolers."

There it was. The Rejection.

Uma patted his cheek and walked around the table, leaving Harry to snicker at his own misfortune. Try as he might, he'd never get Uma to respond to his playful advances. On the other hand, Uma could never hurt his feelings even if she tried.

"I'm tellin' ya," Harry whined as he turned on his stool to keep his eyes on her. "They're like wee devils."

"What's so bad about them?" Uma inquired while she continued to work around the kitchen.

"Well, like I said earlier," Harry said through gritted teeth. "They follow me everywhere! I can never get a second to meself."

"Then how come I've never met them?" Uma asked, tossing a rusty pan into the sink. Harry quirked an eyebrow at her question. Uma shrugged. "Just curious."

"I don't want you to meet them," Harry stressed, and now it was Uma's turn to give him a weird look. He put up a hand to show he meant no offense before he stood up and walked over to her place beside the sink. He lowered his voice to make sure there was no possibility of anyone outside hearing him. "I sneak away from them so they don't interrupt my time with you."

Uma sighed, thinking it was just another line, and said admonishingly, "Harry–"

"You're my closest friend, Uma," Harry interjected, using a term that was almost good enough to be taboo from the Isle. Neither of them cared. They knew they weren't just partners-in-crime like their Dragon Hall counterparts, Mal and Jay. They genuinely enjoyed being in each other's company, and they didn't have to be stealing to have a good time. Harry scratched his head sheepishly before admitting, "I cherish our time together, and I know for a fact that those runts will ruin it and embarrass me."

Uma smirked and narrowed her eyes at him. "You wouldn't need to worry about being embarrassed unless you had something to hide."

"Uh, n–no," Harry stuttered, thrown off guard. His shoulders tensed at the accusation. He didn't share everything with Uma, but there was little of any real significance that he actually kept from her. "I'm not hiding anything," he said, his eyes darting to the side and back.

"Relax, Harry," Uma told him before slapping a hand on his shoulder. "I'm just teasing." She moved back to the table and walked around it, finding little things to pick up so her mother wouldn't yell at her later for leaving the kitchen a mess. Harry had noticed a pattern of them getting close before Uma would back away and put distance between them under the pretense of continuing kitchen duty. Then again, he did barge in on her while she was working, so he realized he wasn't her top priority at the moment. Some kids had the luxury of disobeying their parents and being applauded for it. Ursula, however, was orthodox in her ways. She ruled her household with fear.

Harry sat back down at the table and watched Uma work. After a moment of silence, she looked up at him and said, "What're their names?"

"What?" Harry asked.

"The twins," Uma clarified. "It's weird enough that I've never met them, but I don't even know their names."

"Oh, right," Harry affirmed as he sent back to poking at his lunch. "Squeaky and Squirmy," he answered without looking up.

"Mr. Smee named his sons Squeaky and Squirmy?" Uma asked doubtfully.

"Nah, we just call 'em that," Harry said dismissively.

There were a few seconds of hesitation before Uma asked, "How come?

"My dad never bothered to learn their real names, so he just called them whatever before they could even talk, and then the rest of the crew picked up on it," Harry explained casually. He noticed Uma approaching him out of the corner of his eye. She must've found his explanation more intriguing than her need to work. He took a quick sip of his drink before he continued in a scunnered tone, "Squirmy's really jumpy and twitchy, and Squeaky's voice'll make ya want to hack your ears off."

"Oh," Uma said in a peculiar voice. "Okay then."

Before Harry knew what was happening, Uma had reached under Harry's arm, pulled a knife from the tray, and swiftly speared it into the table beside Harry's arm. Harry tried to jerk his arm away, but the knife caught the edge of his red leather gauntlet.

"Woah, Uma–" Harry exclaimed, but Uma interjected.

"You know, it's crazy how wrong you can be about how this world works," Uma said with a kind of hysteric wonder. Harry tried reaching for his hook–not that he was actually planning on using it against her–but Uma pushed it away, not once taking her eyes off of Harry. Despite her forced smile, her eyes had the spirit to kill behind them. Harry was genuinely afraid. He couldn't tug his gauntlet from its place under the knife, so he started working to unbutton the leather accessory. "You think that you're situation is unique, that no one else has to suffer what you've suffered, but it turns out history will only repeat itself," she continued before her wicked grin fell and her tone dropped. "Except this time, someone else has to take the blow."

Harry managed to undo his gauntlet, but Uma pulled the knife up in the same instant. As opposed to freeing himself, Uma let Harry go, meaning he was still at her mercy. She tossed the knife onto the table before reaching under the table and pulling a whole cutlass out. She pointed the tip at Harry's chest. He hastily stood from his stool and put his hands up in an attempt to diffuse the situation. "Hey Uma," Harry stammered, moving backward as the sword moved nearer and nearer. She snorted in disbelief but didn't reply. "C'mon, what'd I say?" he begged.

"And you think you found someone who actually understands your pain," Uma continued her rant, ignoring Harry's question. Her menacing glare sent a chill down Harry's spine. "But they don't actually get your trauma. They just make a special case, and it turns out they're just like everyone else."

"What are you even talking about?" Harry pleaded, and he felt his back hit the wall.

"I mean, how could I forget one of the Isle's most basic rules?" Uma sneered, shrugging her shoulders like the idea was foolish. Harry would've been less worried if she wasn't smiling like the hangman behind the mask. "Anyone can take their place if they just push someone else down."

Uma speared her sword in the wall, missing Harry's neck by inches. He stayed as still as possible, fearing the slightest twitch might make her even more angry. At least she stopped smiling, though an angry scowl took its place. Harry took a gamble and cleared his throat. "Uma," he said, trying to sound undaunted. "Uma, listen–"

"No, you listen to me Harry!" Uma roared right at him. Her eyes bore into his, but she wasn't really seeing him. Her vision was both clouded and cleared. Clouded by anger, cleared by realization. "If it were an enemy that wronged you, I'd be all for it, but I don't care how evil you're trying to be. Don't you dare use a defacing nickname on someone based on something that wasn't their fault. Something they can't control. Something. They don't. Deserve!"

She yanked the sword from the crack she made in the wall and, with a ferocious cry, slashed at a vase sitting atop a nearby shelf. The pottery broke on contact and shattered more when it hit the ground, filling the air with its unpleasant noise. Harry held his breath, still processing what just happened with a slow and observant mind. Not once had he ever correlated Squeaky and Squirmy's crew-given aliases to Uma's ongoing gag, courtesy of her ex-partner-in-petty-crime. Now that Uma explained it as she did, he saw the stark similarities. So why was he so willing to call the Smee twins Squeaky and Squirmy while he'd happily hook anyone who uttered the word Shrimpy?

Silence filled the room with the exception of Uma's heaving panting. She threw her sword on the ground, and the metal blade clanged against the smooth concrete. With a deep, stabilizing sigh, Uma closed her eyes, pinched the bridge of her nose, and tucked her other hand under her elbow. Harry didn't know what to do. He didn't know what he could do. He just watched.

The thick silence was washed away by the dull sound of sloshing water. Uma didn't pay it any attention, but Harry's head snapped towards the back door, which connected the kitchen to Ursula's house. Harry scrambled away from the wall and over to the door as the splashing grew louder. Harry slammed the door shut as soon as he could get his hands on it, and he twisted the lock before pressing his back against the door, bracing for impact. Not even a second later, a strong force beat against the door. Harry almost fell over, but he held his balance as bitter grumbling sounded from behind the door.

"Kill the ruckus in there!" Ursula growled after she gave up on beating down the door, "Or you'll be working the night shift for the next two weeks!"

"I already am!" Uma barked back, throwing her hands down and whirling around to glare at the empty space above Harry's head. Harry felt another wave thumps against the door push into his back.

"You better watch your mouth, child!" Ursula threatened before the sound of water slowly faded. Harry figured she was going back to watching her soap operas and stepped away from the door. He crouched down to inspect the pottery debris on the ground, whistling in amazement as he picked up a chunk with his forefinger and his thumb. He set his eyes on Uma, who had turned away from the door and gripped the edge of the center table. Harry stood up straight and crossed over to where she was.

"You okay?" Harry whispered delicately, but he already knew what kind of answer he was going to get.

"No, I'm not," Uma confessed, staring down at the table. She didn't say another word, but Harry didn't want them to just forget what just happened. Uma raised a sword to him while he was defenseless, and the reason for it still left his mind spinning. Harry wanted to fix the problem instead of letting it ferment and fester their friendship with hatred.

"I'm sorry about the twins thing," Harry ventured, trying his luck with another apology. "I didn't think it would hurt you so much."

Uma pursed her lips together and slowly nodded her head, still refusing to look at Harry. "Don't worry about it," she told him, but Harry didn't take her tone as forgiveness. "I shouldn't've expected you to understand."

Harry sighed and leaned on the table. Uma still stared straight ahead, not giving him direct attention. Harry became mildly annoyed. He wanted to understand, but she hated talking about her feelings. She was as stubborn as she was fierce. However, Harry was just as stubborn, and he needed an explanation this time.

"Can I ask why you care?" Harry asked, and Uma's inquisitive glare finally looked at him. Harry shrugged his shoulders and frowned. "I mean, you said it yourself. You've never even met them. And we're supposed to be villains–" he emphasized those words, and Uma rolled her eyes "–so why do you care about some kids?"

Uma took a long time to answer, debating whether or not she was actually going to tell him. She glanced over at the locked door that led to her house and then over to the obstructed windows. She was making sure there was no chance of anyone watching. Harry took notice and did the only thing he could think of doing to calm her down. He placed his hand on top of hers, a mutually calming action that eased the tension in Uma's shoulders and brought her focus back to him. Harry gave Uma a pleading look. "Please Uma, it's just me here."

Uma's resolve to lock up her feelings withered, and she turned to face him. Harry kept himself against the table to remain at a height lower than Uma. She hesitated before speaking in a quiet, sincere tone. "It's been five years since the whole Shrimpy thing started," she began, punching her forced nickname with distaste. "And I still can't go anywhere without hearing someone calling me that behind my back or to my face."

"It's just a name, Uma," Harry claimed, only to earn a shove in the shoulder.

"It's more than that," she went on. "It's a daily reminder that I trusted someone and got betrayed. Mal got praised as an evil prodigy while I was cast off to the side. Now, nobody knows me as anything else but Shrimpy. There's power in a name Harry, and Mal took that from me."

She took a deep breath, and her voice softened. "Ya know, the idea of being evil is fun and all, but I've been the victim. It's not fun. What happened seems small, but it's a feeling I've been stuck with for years, and it sucks. I just don't want someone else to have to go through that."

Harry was taken aback, not only by how calmly she expressed herself but by how shamelessly she implied sympathy for other people. What she was feeling was controversial to everything they were taught. "That sounds kinda…" He didn't want to straight up call her good because that'd be equivalent to calling her weak in their world. "…not evil."

"Yeah, I know," Uma noted sadly. "But do you get my point? You're condemning those kids to be laughing stocks before they're even old enough to know any better."

Harry scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. The only person who could ever change his ideology is Uma. "I guess you're right."

"Sorry about the sword," Uma said, flicking her head towards her discarded weapon. "I got a little mad and forgot for a second that you're my friend."

Harry was surprised that he felt significantly better after she apologized and said he was her friend. It wasn't the first time she ever called him that, but the occasional reminder gave him a peculiar feeling. It showed that she would have cared if he got hurt, even if she was the one who did it. The issue was he didn't know how to respond to someone apologizing for attacking him, so he just awkwardly nodded and looked off to the side.

God, he hated this feelings thing so far.

"What're their real names?" Uma asked all of the sudden. It took Harry a second to realize she was referring to the Smee Twins. He opened his mouth to answer, but then he found he actually had to think about it to remember. He squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed his forehead, trying to grasp at the memory of what their actual names were. The longer he remained silent, the more irked Uma became. "You seriously don't know?" She asked incredulously.

"I know them, I know them," Harry hastily stated, making sure she didn't get mad again. Uma drummed her fingers on the table impatiently while Harry mumbled to himself, "Squeaky…Squeaky's is uh–" He snapped his fingers "–Skipper!"

Uma looked less annoyed, but Harry was only half safe now. At least remembering Skipper's name gave him the confidence he needed to remember the other twin. He kept sounding out the nickname in hopes of finding the real name in there. "Squirmy…Squirmy…squirm–squir…stir–Sterling!" He declared triumphantly, "Squirmy's real name is Sterling."

"Skipper and Sterling, eh," Uma repeated, smirking to herself. They were very powerful names indeed. It was a shame for them to be discarded and replaced out of mockery. "Bring them here tomorrow," she told Harry with finality.

"What? Why?" Harry whined. Maybe he'd reconsider calling them Squeaky and Squirmy from now on, but he still didn't like them following him around.

"Because I'm gonna teach them the power behind a name," Uma boasted confidently. "I'm gonna make sure they know they don't have to stay under your father's silly nicknames."

"But why do I–"

"Harry," Uma said as a warning. She was determined, and Harry could see it. He wasn't going to win if he decided to fight her one this now.

"Okay, fine," he drawled, already dreading bringing the whiny kids to his best friend. He pulled a fry from his forgotten lunch and threw it into his mouth.

Uma heard the objection in his voice, and she didn't like it. She tilted her head to the side and narrowed her eyes. "Harry," she inquired of him. "What's my name?"

Harry nearly choked when he forced himself to swallow his food. No matter what he was doing, if she said that, he had to oblige. He brushed his hair out of his eyes and bent down to one knee, not once tearing his gaze away from hers. The force behind her dark eyes evoked a sense of reverence from him, and, like the moon pulling the tides, he was drawn to her energy. As he whispered her name, he finally understood what she said earlier about power.

"Uma."

Looking satisfied with it, Uma bent down to be closer to him. "There's power in a name, Harry," she reminded him, tapping his chin with her finger. "Don't forget that."

She stood up straight and walked over to the door that led to the restaurant. She grabbed a waitressing apron from a hook on the wall and tied it around her waist. Harry didn't move an inch. How could he? He was in the presence of raw power.

"I'm starting my shift," she informed him casually as if he wasn't still paralyzed in awe. "You can stay in here, but don't eat anything in the cabinets. You might die."

With that, she left, and Harry let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. He stood up and immediately sat back down on the stool. For a moment, he just stared at the blank space, unable to render all the emotion and information he just took in. After finally recollecting his bearing, he grabbed his mug, chugged the rest of the coffee, and tossed the grounds onto the floor.

There was power in a name, alright. He knew that first hand.

He just needed to be reminded of just how powerful a name can be.

Hey guys, hope you enjoyed that little one-shot! I really like the idea of Uma taking the Smee twins under her wing. I also think that Squeak and Squirmy are really bizarre names, so I headcanon them as nicknames for Skipper and Sterling. Lemme know what you guys thought. Maybe I'll write a continuation to this, and hopefully, I'll update my other works soon. Love you guys! -Jojo, who's gonna go watch Thor Ragnarok