In my Fanfic “Friendly Shores” (which was written loooong before a season 4 finale, I might add), I dealt with role reversals all over Storybrooke and the Enchanted Forest, and sometimes with really interesting results.

In this scene, Pirate Emma and Prince Killian wander into a very changed Storybrooke, looking for a magical compass that might help them set things right.

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Killian kept walking, obviously not going to expand on that point. Emma made a hmmphing sound and walked alongside him. A few moments later, Killian came to an abrupt stop, staring up at the glowing sign over one of the establishments.

“Smee’s,” Emma read. “It looks like a tavern. There are tables and chairs.”

“Aye, it is. Let’s go in and see what we can discover.”

Emma cocked her head to one side. “You buying?”

“Why? Because I’m a prince?”

“And a gentleman. Either that or you prefer gentlemen,” she added in a grumble.

“What?” He looked at her incredulously. “What would give you that idea?”

“Your buddy Robin is awfully pretty. And I’ve never known a man to resist what I’m offering.”

Killian’s jaw tightened. “Maybe some of us find it unappealing that you offer it so freely.”

Emma made a childish pouty face. “Awwww…is your little princess holding out on you? You got a thing for virtuous women?”

He cracked a reluctant smile. “Not virtuous. Just selective.”

“And she hasn’t selected you?”

He didn’t meet her eyes as he held the door for her. “Not yet.”

“What a shame,” she said over her shoulder as she entered the restaurant. “I’d’ve been all over you. And under. And in front of, and on my – ”

“Enough.” He prodded her forward. “Now sit down and put some food in that mouth.”

She took a seat in a nearby booth. “Sheesh. I was discussing stuffing my mouth. You just didn’t like it,” she smirked.

Killian raised a brow, refusing to be baited. Emma rolled her eyes and turned to address the waiter, who had just approached the table.

“Well, hello…” she said, eyeing the man with clear interest. “What’s your name?”

“Will,” he replied, giving her an answering grin. “Will Scarlet.” He leaned in, putting his hands down on the table, no doubt knowing that in the tight red tank top he was wearing, his muscular arms were shown to their best advantage. “And who might you be?”

“She’s with me.” Killian answered, in an icy tone. “We’ll have two of the day’s special.”

Will gave Killian an appraising look, then turned to smile at Emma again. “And what are you drinking, love?”

“Don’t call her that.” Killian’s eyes flashed a warning now, and Will was smart enough to back off. He slowly straightened up.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “Just making conversation.”

“Make it elsewhere,” Killian suggested with a good deal of menace. “And we’ll both have rum.”

“Rum it is,” Will replied, hurrying off to the back. Emma leaned her chin on her hand and smiled widely.

“See?” she remarked. “Possessive. I knew it.”

“We’re not here to flirt,” he reminded her.

“If you say so,” she conceded with a sigh. “But I do like the way his pants cling to his -”

“Emma.” He crooked a brow and stared her down.

“So now what?” she finally asked. “Do we just start asking door to door for a compass?”

“If you can keep your hands and your words in check, I believe I should be able to question our server and get some information.”

Emma leaned back in her chair, spreading her hands. “He’s all yours…unless you two would like to share me.”

He gave her a dark look, refusing to answer that one, and Will re-entered through the swinging door with plates of food, a bottle of rum and two glasses. He set it all down on the table.

“Just a moment,” Killian interrupted him as he turned to go. “Perhaps you can help us. We’ve only just arrived in Storybrooke and we’re looking for someplace where we can purchase interesting and hard-to-find items. Is there such a shop in town?”

“Oh, you mean the pawnbroker and antiques dealer?”

“Yes, that would be the place,” Killian answered.

Will looked surprised, and he glanced around, leaning in. “You need to be careful there, mate,” Will warned in a low voice. “The owner has a fondness for making deals that don’t always turn out to your advantage, if you get my meaning.”

Killian’s hand tightened into a fist. “Indeed I do.”

“I’m sure he’ll be no problem,” Emma said confidently.

“I doubt anyone would give you a problem,” Will said, grinning.

“Is Mr. Smee about?” Killian broke in. “He and I are old friends.”

“He’s in the back. I can bring him round if you’d like,” Will offered.

“Please do.” Killian’s tone was dismissive, and Emma smiled tauntingly at his open hostility.

“Possessive…” she murmured under her breath as Will hurried off to the back again. She reached down and picked up a french fry. “What exactly are these?”

“They’re a sort of potato, I believe.” He reached over, picking up the bottle of ketchup on the table. “Try dipping them in this.”

Emma poured a pool of ketchup onto her plate, and swirled a fry around in it. She sniffed it cautiously, then put it in her mouth.

“Mmmmmm…” she moaned. “These are delicious.” She swirled another fry in ketchup, then held Killian’s eyes as she slowly licked the ketchup off. “You should try,” she said with a smirk. Killian opened his mouth to reprimand her again and was interrupted by Mr. Smee, resplendant in a white, frilly apron, emerging from the back. Sweat was beading on his forehead and it took a moment for Killian to realize why he looked so odd.

“Where’s your hat?”

“Excuse me?” He looked a little baffled. “I don’t usually wear a chef’s hat. We’re not much on pomp and circumstance in Storybrooke.”

“I see,” Killian replied. “I believe we may have previously met.”

“Sorry…no,” Smee replied blankly. “Or, if we did, I don’t remember it. Although things have been kind of jumbled these last few weeks.”

“Here, too?” Emma asked. “Did you guys get hit like we did?”

“If you mean, did we all wake up on the opposite side of town and totally confused, then yes, we got hit.”

Killian’s eyes met Emma’s and she gave a tiny shrug.

“Where are you headed after this?” Mr. Smee asked. “If you’re staying the night, I have rooms around the back for let.”

“We have to go see the antique dealer,” Emma said. She gave Killian a cheeky glance. “Then we’ll talk about a room.”

Mr. Smee’s eyes went wide and he audibly gulped. “You – you’re going to see…him?”

“Him?” Emma said, around the fry she shoved in her mouth.

“The Dark One.” Smee glanced around nervously. “Be careful there. Don’t make a deal with him, whatever you do.”

Emma’s eyes narrowed. “So this is where he is.”

Killian reached out, grabbing her arm as she tried to stand. “Wait – that’s your agenda? The Dark One?”

“My agenda is none of your business,” she said coldly. “Now let me go.”

“We’ll go together,” Killian replied. “We need his help, whether you like it or not.”

Emma gave him a fuming look and Killian turned to Smee again. “Is he there now?”

Smee nodded shakily. “He should be. Just make a left out the door and follow main street down. His shop is at the end on the left.”

“Thank you.” Killian stood, keeping his hand on Emma’s arm as he walked with her to the door. Mr. Smee called out to them as they stepped outside.

“Be careful!” he warned again. “Mr. Charming is not a man to be trifled with.”

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You can read more of this mayhem at Fanfiction.net or Archive of Our Own.

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