A/N: This fic was originally a multi-chapter fic that I started last year but I lost motivation to finish it mid-way into writing the second chapter. Thanks to Meg
(keepcalmwearetimeless) on tumblr and the others who came up with CS AU Week on tumblr, I've decided to post the finished and edited first chapter as a oneshot! There is an open possibility I could continue this fic, but it's very unlikely so don't get your hopes up. Hope you enjoy! :)

"Come along, Swan."

Emma's head jerked up at the sudden unfamiliar voice, her blonde curly hair framing her face, and looked outside of her car window to find herself staring into a pair of bright blue eyes. Taken aback, she quickly scanned the leather-clad (seriously? what kind of outfit was that?) figure who was leaning his shoulder on her car while peering through the window. It was night, so Emma could barely make out some of the person's features under the faint glow of the streetlight, but she knew she had never met this person before. She narrowed her eyes.

"How do you know my name?" she demanded.

The corners of the man's mouth quirked up, a hint of a smile just peeking out. "I didn't, actually."

Emma raised a skeptic eyebrow but the man nodded at the necklace she was wearing – her swan necklace. Oh. She instinctively grabbed the pendant defensively, as if the man was going to snatch it right in front of her. Her assessment of the stranger had told her that this man wasn't exactly innocent in terms of honesty and Emma didn't doubt it for a second. Throughout the few years of working as a bail bondswoman, she had developed a "superpower" for detecting lies and along with it, the ability to judge whether or not a person was sincere - for the most part - at first glance.

He grinned with mysterious satisfaction, giving her an unsettlingly familiar feeling. "Well? Are you coming or not?"

"Coming? Where?" The words were out of her mouth before she could stop herself.

The man was full on grinning at her now, tongue in cheek. "Darling, I think my bed would be the most obvious choice for that, but unfortunately for both of us, that's not what I meant."

Emma rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, pointedly staring at him for an answer. He responded to her annoyed look with an air of confidence. "Anywhere you'd like."

She pretended to think for a moment and said slowly, "How about –" he leaned into the car window a little, eager to hear her answer "- as far away from you as possible?" Emma flashed him a fake smile.

He let out a short amused laugh. "What's your name, love?"

"It's Swan, remember?" She pointed to the necklace that represented her namesake. She was most definitely not giving this guy her name.

"Yes, yes, lovely name, but I was hoping to hear your given name," he said with a subtle tone of impatience, shifting his weight to his left leg. Good. She was finally getting on his nerves. A little bit more and maybe he'd finally leave her alone. (Like she's always been.)

Emma leaned in closer to the man, like he had done earlier, her eyes unconsciously flickering to his lips for a split second before meeting his intense gaze, only a few inches away from her. In a low voice, she said, "Listen buddy, I'm not so happy giving out my name to random strangers I meet at night and I'm not in the mood for making friends right now. So if you could just be on your way…"

"I'm the Captain," he said after a few short moments of silence.

Emma blinked, caught off guard, and leaned back. "Excuse me?"

"I'm the Captain. At your service, milady," he said with a mock bow and a smug smile.

She rolled her eyes at his gesture before she asked confusedly, "Captain who?"

"Just the Captain."

Hypocrite. You want my name but you won't even tell me your own. She sighed inwardly and Emma couldn't help but notice the recurring strange feeling she had since he first approached her.

No, she told herself sternly, trying to ignore the feeling in her gut. You can't trust him. He's lying.

"I'm gonna let you in on a little secret, Captain." She paused for a second. "I'm pretty good at knowing when someone is lying to me."

He was watching her intently, a small frown pulling at his mouth, his eyes unreadable. "I'm telling you the truth. Try something new, darling. It's called trust."

Trust. As if it were that easy. Emma hadn't trusted anyone in years. Eleven years, to be more precise. God, it seemed so long ago since she had been happy with him. A long time since she had been thrown into jail because of him and… no. She pushed that memory away before she could even think about it anymore. She wasn't going to trust him, not now, not ever.

Emma scoffed. "Sure. I just met you five minutes ago and now you're asking me to trust you? That ain't happening, buddy. Have a good night." She faked another smile at him before rolling up the window and turning to face forwards in her seat.

"You know," he said quietly, causing Emma to stop what she was doing in order to hear him (out of curiosity, of course, not because she was actually interested in this man in the slightest bit), "your walls can be quite tiresome to the average human but luckily for you, love, I'm not average." He winked at her, clearly suggesting the innuendo hidden in his statement. The man's tone became less playful as he said, "Now, I'll ask you again: what is your name?"

"Well, with all the pet names you keep giving me, I'd think I'm having a sort of identity crisis like you right now," she muttered sarcastically.

He chuckled at her remark. "You're a stubborn one, aren't you?"

Emma threw him a glare. "Seems like you're pretty stubborn yourself. Look, if I tell you my name, will you leave me alone?" she asked, exasperated. She was so tired and stressed and she really didn't want to deal with anything tonight.

"No, because I think you don't want to be alone, especially on a day like this," he murmured softly, gesturing at the cupcake she held in her lap, topped with a candle that seemed to have already been lit and blown out.

She stiffened at his words. "And what makes you say that?"

"You're somewhat of an open book. It's the look in your eyes. I spent many years in Neverland, home of the lost boys, and they all shared the same look in their eyes – the look you get when you've been abandoned. And you - you've been left alone one too many times," he said, watching her solemnly.

Emma tried not to flinch at the accuracy of his words. It was the first time she met someone who actually understood her. And it was scary as hell. Taking a silent deep breath and masking her face with indifference, she replied coolly, "Yeah, well, my world ain't Neverland. And Neverland doesn't even exist; it's just a place from a story." She cocked her head to the side, an are-you-serious look written all over her face.

"Ah, but it might as well be," he said knowingly, "It most definitely exists, love. Just because it's in a story doesn't mean it's not real."

"Oh, come on! You expect me to believe that there's actually a land full of fairies and mermaids and pirates and – and Peter Pan?" she uttered incredulously. She had always dreamed of Peter Pan taking her away from the real world as a kid, away from the foster system and the crap life she had had. Staying up at night sometimes and waiting by the window, hoping he would just fly by and take her to Neverland, where she could forget about all her troubles and not have anyone tell her what she could or couldn't do. Of course, as she grew up, those dreams were crushed by reality, but a part of Emma still clung onto the fantasy of running away from all of her problems and living in paradise. And now this man had come along, seen through her walls in a matter of minutes, and claimed that the place she had always dreamed about as a child was real? What the hell?

"Aye. I can prove it to you, but only if you come with me." He raised his eyebrows, prompting her to change her mind. To trust him and follow him to who knows where.

Emma crossed her arms over her chest. "Okay, let's say that in some - I don't know - parallel universe, there is a Neverland. What makes you think I'll just jump out of my car and follow you to some other land? And why me?"

"Why not? Take a leap of faith. You look like you need some adventure in your life and I doubt you're getting it with whatever you're doing now. You're quite special, lass. I think you deserve more than this."

She opened her mouth, instinctively ready to brush off his compliments and retaliate, and then realized that she didn't know what to say. She closed her mouth in slight embarrassment, searching his face for any sign of deceit - and to her surprise, didn't find one. Nothing that told her he was just saying all of that to appeal to her or to get on her nerves. Nothing. Just because he believes in something doesn't make it true, a voice whispered in her head.

But that irrational side of Emma, the one that still believed in a place that could take away all her troubles and help her run away, fought. Take a leap of faith. You deserve more than this. Was this really going to be her life? Chasing down guys who skipped bail (alone), drinks at the local bar every Friday night (alone), and 'celebrating' her birthday (alone) on a day she picked herself because how the hell would an orphan know when they were born.

Her life sucked. She was spending yet another banner year alone with no parents, no friends, nothing, nothing but a stupid cupcake and some weird hot guy wearing leather in the middle of the night.

Which is why she unlocked the car door and stepped out.

The man took a few steps back to move out of the way, a little surprised at her sudden change of mind.

After locking the Volkswagen, she turned to face the man. Before he could say anything, Emma stated in a clear voice, "One trip. No funny business or I swear I'll kick your ass. I want to be back here in one piece. Got it?"

His smirk twitched, still amused, as if he was sharing an inside joke with himself. He replied, "Alright. Shall we?" he gestured his right hand down one of the streets.

Curiosity killed the cat, that voice in her head said.

But satisfaction brought it back, she thought.

She tilted her head in the direction of their destination. "After you."

—-

They walked in silence for a minute or two but it seemed so much longer than that. With every step, Emma started having second doubts and wondered if she really should do this. As for the Captain (she thought she might as well start calling him that since he didn't seem to be willing to give his name), he looked like he was thinking about something as he led the way. She was just about to speak up and break the silence when the smell of the ocean hit her.

Eventually realizing they had ended up at the local docks, Emma stopped in her tracks to take in her surroundings and breathe in the familiar scent. Ever since she had moved to Boston, she had always had a habit of coming here to watch the calming movement of water whenever she needed to relax and relieve some stress. Recently though, she found herself driving to the docks even more often than usual, life taking a huge toll on her during the last few weeks. The sea was the closest she could get to her Neverland. And now? Watching the Captain walk towards a magnificent ship painted with a mix of yellow, black, red, and blue, it dawned on her that they were going to travel by sea.

Weird. And ironic, she thought wryly. Her favorite place that had always helped her run from reality was going to actually take her away from everything. She almost laughed out loud at that.

The Captain stopped at the end of the pier, standing next to the platform that led up to the entrance of the ship, and turned back, his long black coat billowing around his legs and his left hand hidden in one of the pockets. He finally noticed that she had stopped following him. He called out, "Swan, don't tell me you're changing your mind already?"

He sounds disappointed. Emma shook her head, pushing away that thought and answering him at the same time as she approached him and the ship. Without saying a word or looking at him (smug bastard's probably proud of himself right now), she started to walk up the platform.

"Ah-ah, not so fast, love," he said, gently grabbing her wrist to stop her from boarding the ship and make her face him. "Before I let you on my ship, you must tell me your name."

She made eye contact with him and wrenched her hand away, trying to ignore the burning feeling from where he touched her. I've already gone this far – can't turn back now. She reluctantly muttered, "Emma."

The Captain tilted his head to the side and a genuine grin slowly appeared on his face. "Emma," he repeated. His grin widened, his pearly white teeth showing and his sea-blue eyes twinkling in excitement. "Well, Emma, welcome aboard the Jolly Roger. It's a pirate's life for you."