To the end of the ocean and back ~Captain Swan~

Ch 1

A/N: the picture after the video is funny because Killian(Hook) cared so much that he called Emma twelve times.
The song I just really liked and I thought of Emma so...yeah.
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When she sang the Siren's Song to save a pirate from the wrath of a man with a horrid black beard a year or two ago, she didn't expect to see gratitude reflect in those blue eyes of him when the sea tossed him back up there to kill the man. Most men, unlike the one she saved, stared back with lust in their eyes as they reached out for something that was just an illusion. A fever dream they call it.
An illusion.
Was that what she was? To him? To everyone else she tried to save?
She hadn't meant to see him again at least.
Her own head was messed up as it is. Memories coming this way and that and leaving quickly without a trace.
She didn't have time to ponder.
The land called Storybrooke called out to her.
But the pirate, he kept crawling back into her head like a minnow that wouldn't quit.
He was different, she knew.
So when she reached the land that gave her legs and the man at the bar asked for her name,  she confidently said,"Emma Swan."
He nodded and gave her a glass of rum. When she tried to pay(with money she had stolen) he politely stopped her, saying that "a pretty woman no one has seen before deserves a drink."
Emma bid him her thanks and moved to a table near the door, running a hand over the smooth texture of the fish scales that still remained on her leg, starting at her knee and ending at the ankle. When she transformed, loosing her tail, she was quite shocked. Waiting out a couple ol' days to see if it would change back.
They didn't.
Well they did.
Only near water.
Emma had always been proud of her tail. She was the lucky one. Tales had been said of strong women of the sea being bred from sharks.
Whoever wrote that down wasn't wrong.
Mermaids, or as the females of her bloodline called themselves, Sharkmaids, were a dime a dozen. In the water a sharp dorsal fin protruded from her back, the same shiny grey color as her tail. And of course her teeth were sharp and always being replaced. Her bloodline stems from sharks. But as the tales upon tales kept piling up, Emma and the rest of the Sharkmaids were forgotten by history and replaced with their weaker, less talented cousins. She was really a Shark Siren,  but for now, calling her a Sharkmaid in her own head was fine.

But just the feel of those rough, yet smooth, scales sent her in a trace, into a memory of her history. Her ancestors history. Emma couldn't remember her own.
Which was why she was here. Her 'son', Henry, one of the few half human half shark people, found her one night when she saved him. He reminded her of Neal, the human she first fell in love with, and for all she knew, it was quite possible Henry was her son. But after tracking his sent(boy did the kid swim fast) to Storybrooke and finding out she had legs, Emma really needed a drink.
"Leg itchy Princess? You seem very intent on rubbing it," a deep voice sounded next to her.
"Hmm?" she replied, looking up at the stranger who sat next to her.
He wore a dark mask, which was being covered by the mop of dark, unkept hair on his head. The man had a hook for a hand and a grin on his face.
Emma was used to these looks. She was a siren after all.
"Do I look like a Princess to you, Mr. Hook for a hand?" she asked him, barring a part of her mouth with the deadly shark teeth on view.
"Impressive chompers you got there, but sorry Princess, I'm not scared," the stranger said, taking a sip of his own drink.
Emma sipped her own. "That didn't answer my question."
He chuckled and set the glass down. "You're too, fancy lookin' to be down here. Gotta name? I have to call you something else Lass since you don't like Princess." His more, European accent was definitely noted by Emma to be his more, likable qualities. He seemed  more curious of her then afraid or lusting. She needed to live life on the edge once more anyway.
"Swan; Emma Swan," she told him, rubbing a hand to cover the little nub of a dorsal fin that poked out of her back with she leaned forward or twisted.
"Swan," he mused, leaning close to her face and taking a strand of hair in his fingers. He started to twirl it and continued talking. "I like it. A fine name for a fancy Lass like you."
"You forgot something," she reminded him.
"Oh, I did?" the stranger replied, trying to sound innocent.
"And your name is?"
"Captain Hook."
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A/N: I planned this for Saturday, but I settled for Friday. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the first chapter!

        H̶a̶p̶p̶y̶ R̶e̶a̶d̶i̶n̶g̶!
          ~F̶o̶r̶e̶v̶e̶r̶ R̶e̶d̶W̶i̶n̶d̶