Eyes on Fire (Mad Swan) 3/?
Title: Eyes on Fire
Author: shewho_rambles
Fandom: Once Upon A Time
Summary: Takes place during “Hat Trick” but Mary Margaret was not abducted. Emma was driving to a crime scene when she hit Jefferson. Also Alice is not Grace’s mother. After the failed attempt of escape, Emma has to answer to Jefferson, and the consequences.
Type / Pairings: Jefferson/Emma
Rating: M
Warnings: Eventual bondage, smut, mad hatter being all psychotic, the usual.
Spoilers: Spoilers for Season 1, specifically 1x17 “Hat Trick”
Beta: gilove2dance
Disclaimer: Don’t own any of the characters, just having my wicked way with them.
Smirking at her reaction, just the response he was hoping to stir from her, Jefferson offers his hand while waiting patiently for Emma to take it. "You must be hungry. I'd be a terrible host if I didn't feed you, now wouldn't I?"
Emma blushes once he explains himself. Her dirty mind getting the better of her, she tries as humanly possible, not to look directly in front of her. "How about you let me go instead?" Her hopeful eyes peer up at him, wishing to appeal to a saner side of the man before her.
"Not a chance," Jefferson smirks, clearly enjoying the exchange.
Emma doesn't move.
Jefferson however, insistently keeps his hand outstretched. Emma keeps her eyes on his without moving.
"I'm not going to harm you Emma… unless you make me." His tone drops an octave or two, Emma shudders in response. "Now just take it." He sounds tired, almost pleading if she could dare believe it with her own ears.
Begrudgingly taking his offered hand, Emma slowly gets out of bed, realizing once her feet touches the floor that she isn't wearing her boots anymore. Spotting them at the foot of the bed, she concludes that Jefferson had taken them off while she was sleeping. This only made Emma question what else Jefferson took the liberty of doing while she was passed out. Forcing back unwelcome images, Emma follows Jefferson out of the bedroom, his hand resting on her back, leading her throughout his home to their destination - the kitchen.
The kitchen is huge, not that she was expecting anything less. Everything looked state of the art and contemporary, fitting the image of a reclusive rich guy. Leading her to the isle in the centre of the room, Jefferson gestures to one of the stools. Taking the offered seat, Emma discreetly scans the nearby area for any possible weapons. As she searches, she forgets to keep a close eye on her 'host', allowing him to come up from behind her and rest his hands on her shoulders. She immediately tenses, cursing, for being caught off guard.
"Hmm I bet you're a pancake and eggs kinda girl, over-easy right?"
Oh course he was right, he had been watching her for god knows how long. She hated to think what he had seen, what he knew. She tries to stay calm, trying not to give anything away as Jefferson chuckles in her ear.
"When was the last time someone cooked you breakfast?" He whispers, moving from behind her to grab something out of a nearby drawer. She eyes him, knowing he knows, "You know who."
"But she doesn't count does she?"
"Why not?" She asks, genuinely curious and confused by his answer.
"Mary-Margaret tries and tries, but you never eat it am I right?" He pauses, before answering the question for her, "of course I am."
"That's none of your business. Besides, you can't have seen all of that from your telescope?"
Jefferson stops what he's doing to turn to look at her. "Avoiding the question are we?"
"You're avoiding too." Emma snaps back, sighing at her childish response.
"I do leave this house on occasion…" He turns to rummage through another drawer.
"Could've fooled me, I've never seen you around town." Emma crosses her arms, leaning back to scan a nearby door that could lead to freedom. But she couldn't tell if the door was locked or not. It was going to be a risk, that's for sure.
Jefferson looks back up; closing the drawer while placing his hands, with the object to rest behind his back on the side counter. Leaning back, he watches Emma as she quickly sits up right, failing in her not so stealthy recognisance.
"I don't like being around other people…even if they can't remember who I am." He looks off in to the distance, lost in thought before he whispers, "I couldn't bear it if Grace ever saw me like this." Emma's shocked by his honesty. She's unsure on how to react to this new piece of information about him and the feelings that have stirred in response. Grace is not his, she repeats over in her head like a mantra, hoping that she wasn't falling for the delusion, no matter how real it seemed to be to him.
"Now, its you're turn."
He came back up behind her again, something hidden behind his back, Emma senses something amiss, she quickly spins on her seat while pushing Jefferson away, jumping off the stool as she backs away from him.
"I'm ending this now." She vows, keeping a close eye on Jefferson while scanning the immediate area for anything to aid in her attempt to escape. "You've had your sick fun, now its time for you to let me go or else I'll find a way." Afraid of what's going to come next, Emma knows she needs to distract him for as long as possible. There was no way she was going to sit there and let him tie her up again.
Jefferson doesn't move. His lips curl into an evil sneer, his eyes looking a couple shades darker then before. Emma gulps in fear, not knowing what this mad man was capable of doing, or what he was currently thinking. "You think after all this time I'm just going to let you walk out?" Placing the rope on the isle beside him, he produces a gun from his back pocket. Instead of aiming it at her, he slowly rubs it along his jaw line, resting the tip of it against his head.
"Listen Jefferson, I know you're a good person, you don't want to do this." Emma tries to reason, knowing it's pointless but she has to try. Jefferson chuckles darkly in response, his eyes widen; his expression one of madness. "You know nothing about me. So stop presuming and listen…"
He walks slowly towards her; deliberate steps, like an animal stalking its prey. Emma, in turn, walks backwards, mirroring each step he takes towards her until her back hits against the wall, trapping her. "It's up to me when you leave, not you. Once you come to your senses, and think beyond the limited capacity you possess, then… and only then Emma…"
He stops, right in front of her. He places his hands on each side of her head, trapping her, the gun still held in his hand with a tight grip.
"….will I let you go."