As he hung up the phone, Killian leaned back in his desk chair and groaned loudly. He covered his face with his hand that still clasped the cell phone, his prosthetic resting on the arm rest.
"Nine-forty," came a voice from across the room. "I believe that's a record for Alice."
Peaking between his fingers at his partner, Killian said, "I can't believe you actually keep track, Weaver."
Detective Weaver shrugged his shoulders. "It's off season. Got to keep myself entertained somehow."
Their work did always slow down as fall began to feel like winter in Rockland and the tourists stopped coming up, but Killian still thought it was a poor justification for keeping track of the amount of times that the high school called about his daughter. "Might I recommend an app," said Killian getting to his feet and picking up his heavy winter jacket. "I've heard Angry Birds is still fun. Good way to pass the time. No longer have to rely on Tetris or Minesweeper to keep yourself busy."
His partner let out a laugh. "I'd rather kiss the Captain," he said.
"Speaking of," said Killian as he pulled on his hat, "if she comes by, cover for me." He wrapped his red scarf around his neck.
Going back to his paperwork, Weaver said, "I'll consider it."
Killian let out a sigh. With Weaver, it was next to impossible to know just what to expect. Even after a few years of working with the man, Killian was still frequently surprised and sometimes even shocked by what his partner did and said. When he had joined the force, Killian had heard tales of the eccentric and often erratic detective of the Rockland Police Department. Killian hadn't believed half the stories he had heard back then, especially not after seeing the detective with Alice, but now he put nothing past Detective M. R. Weaver.
"Well, I would sincerely appreciate it if you did," he said. He zipped up his jacket. "Last time she was none too pleased I had to miss over an hour." It was over an hour of nothing, time that he would have spent doing paperwork, but Captain Mills rarely took such matters into consideration.
"I think you can handle her," remarked Weaver.
Only offering his partner a parting wave, Killian left the detectives' office and hurried through the building, out through the front doors and to the back parking lot.
The thirty minute drive from the Rockland to Storybrooke was one that Killian could do in his sleep. For the past twelve years since he had moved to Storybrooke from Portland, he had made the drive almost every single day from the town to the tiny city of Rockland, Maine. Since Alice had started high school, however, and she had started getting in trouble, Killian had found himself making too many unplanned trips from the police department to his hometown high school for his liking.
***
"Needless to say," said Killian as the emerged from the principal's office, "in addition to suspended, you're grounded."
Even though her back was to him, Killian knew that Alice was rolling her eyes as they started walking towards the main doors. "Naturally," she said. "These days, that's how everything ends up." She zipped up her olive green jacket and pulled the hood over her blonde curls.
"Yes, and I wonder just why that is." Sarcasm dripped off the father's voice. He pushed the front doors of the high school open and started down the salted sidewalk, scattering the large crystals of blue salt with each step.
"Not my fault that all the fun stuff is against the rules," she said, shoving her hands in her pockets. She turned around to face her father, walking backwards. "And that no one at the school has any sense of humor whatsoever!" She held out her hands in a shrug through her jacket.
Killian Jones ran his fingers through his hair and shook his head. "No," he said, "no. Funny is a well told joke or witticism. Funny is standing behind someone and miming like you used to do in elementary school. That was adorable." Very disrespectful in a lot of cases, yes, but it had been cute to see his daughter standing behind someone and making silly faces and gestures, making it close to impossible to keep a straight face. "What you're doing is going to wind you up in juvie." They reached his unmarked police car, and Killian opened up the door.
"Well, I thought it was funny," said Alice opening the passenger door and sitting down. "And I wasn't the only person who thought that!"
"Doesn't matter what you or your classmates think," sighed Killian. He got in and buckled his own seat belt. "Trying to steal the DARE officer's handcuffs and then calling him a 'pig' when he caught you…" He shook his head, still unable to fathom just what had possessed his daughter to do such a rude thing. She had always been respectful when it came to police officers and other law enforcement personnel. When she was little, she had even been heard to say that she wanted to be a police officer just like her papa. This, therefore, was a complete departure from what he had come to expect from his daughter. But then again, ever since September, she had been surprising him in less than pleasant ways.
Before he continued, Killian started the car and backed-up. As he pulled out of the high school parking lot, he said, "You're really lucky that he decided to just let the school and I handle your punishment, since he 'knows what it's like to have a rebellious teenager.'" Killian doubted that Officer Flynn had quite the same problems with quiet, nerdy Owen as he was having with Alice, he had been relieved that the Storybrooke police officer hadn't thought it necessary for the law to get involved. He supposed that that was one of the perks of living in a very small town. "Why did you even try to steal the handcuffs?" he asked finally.
Alice leaned back in her seat, looking up at the ceiling. "Wanted to show someone the trick I know to get out of them," she mumbled.
Killian shook his head, remembering how he had let Alice play with his handcuffs back when she was younger and how she had even figured out a way to escape them. "You can't just take a policeman's cuffs, Alice."
"He was standing there. Complete serendipity. How could I not!"
"Easily. You exercise self-control. You ask yourself, 'is this a good idea? Will I get into trouble? Does this break any rules or laws?' It's what most people do on a daily basis." And she used to be fairly good at it for a willful child. Killian turned onto the highway to head back to Rockland.
Alice pointed out the window. "We're not going home?"
"I can't take the rest of the day off just because you've lost your better judgement," Killian said. And he certainly couldn't afford to take off of the rest of the week that she would be required to stay out of school. Taking her home after the other times she had gotten in trouble hadn't worked, so he knew he needed a new approach. "Besides, it seems a fitting punishment that you should spend the week at the police station." He grinned a little at the before now unrealized appropriateness of an impromptu 'bring your daughter to work' week.
This was hardly the first time he had brought his daughter to the Rockland Police Station. It was hardly the best place for an overly curious little girl and later on an adventurous preteen, but for times when he couldn't find a sitter or couldn't afford to send her to day camp for the whole summer, he had little choice but to bring her to work with him. Between himself, his fellow officers, and the other support staff keeping an eye on the station's 'mascot', Alice had definitely been safe. The issue had always been the mischief she could get up to. Killian knew that this week, he was going to have to keep an extra sharp eye on the fourteen-year-old.
The only response Killian got was a huff and cold stare from his daughter. Killian had never enjoyed being the bad guy when it came to parenting, whether it was telling her in the grocery store that he wasn't going to buy her the sugary cereal she had had at a friend's house or if it was punishing her when she misbehaved. But, he had never had the choice of picking whether or not he would be the good cop or the bad cop this time around. It had always just been him and Alice, which left him to fill in all the roles that normally were shared between two parents. It was hardly the ideal state, but Killian preferred it over all the alternatives.
As he parked the car in the police station parking lot, Killian said, "I know you're not thrilled about this but I'm not thrilled about this…" He waved his hand in the air. "This… thing you're doing. I don't like getting calls at work because you're misbehaving. I don't like seeing you get suspended. I don't like worrying that maybe this time they'll float the idea of you going to another school." He truly hoped it never came to that, but Alice had years to go at Storybrooke High School. At the rate she was going, there was no way she was going to get to senior year attending the school.
Alice unbuckled her belt and turned so she was facing her father, propping herself up from the seat with an elbow. "Is M.R. working today?" she asked, running her fingers through her hair. "I'm gonna need his help for my social studies paper. He was there in Vietnam, so he probably has some stories that can help me pull my word count up. I'm five hundred short."
"Alice," sighed Killian. He wasn't sure if he should comment on how she shouldn't change the subject, or if he ought to tell her not to bring up a subject that he had only ever heard Weaver mention twice in their years of working together, since it was clearly a touchy subject.
"What? Don't tell me you want me to neglect my studies," she said, pretending to sound shocked and appalled.
With a shake of his head, Killian opened the car door. "Let's go inside," he said. He had spent enough time away from work, and there was no way of knowing whether or not Weaver had actually decided to cover for him. Killian glanced of the shoulder to see Alice emerging from the car, pulling her backpack along with her.
Getting through the police station all the way to his office proved trickier than he had thought. It seemed like everyone he and Alice encountered wanted to cheerfully greet the girl and ask just what she was doing here on a school day, wondering if she had a holiday or if she was feeling alright. Killian had had to sigh and interrupt before Alice could say anything to explain that this wasn't a vacation day or that they were waiting for a doctor's appointment later - no, this was a punishment, because yet again, Alice had gotten into trouble. That had stopped a few folks short, surprised that the little girl they had seen grow up was actually a rebellious teen now. Leroy the janitor had started laughing, which had only made Alice grin and join in.
"Come on," he said, taking her hand and leading her the rest of the way to his and Weaver's office. "Remember, you're being punished. So that means I have your phone for the rest of the day. And if you use my computer its for school."
"But what if I want to use my phone for school?" said Alice.
He gave his daughter a sidelong look before pushing the door to the office open.
"M.R.!" exclaimed Alice, pushing past her father. She hurried over to the older detective's desk. Killian wasn't surprised to see Weaver smiling at Alice.
"Alice," Weaver said, moving a box off the chair beside his desk so she could sit, "heard you got in trouble at school, again."
Alice shrugged her shoulders and set her backpack down on the floor. "It happens." She flopped down into the chair and picked up the rubber band ball she had made for the detective when she was eight from his desk.
"Normally I'm all for giving your father a headache-"
"Thanks, Weaver," shot Killian sarcastically, hanging up his coat. "Good to know you've got my back always."
The old man smirked. "But really, dearie, you've picked a particularly terrible time."
Killian froze. "What happened?" He hadn't been gone for too long, and he had had the radio and his phone on during the drive. Could he have missed something big? Very few big things ever happened up here this time of year, but still, they did happen.
Weaver waved his hand. "Nothing catastrophic, Jones. Just that the Captain is going to be coming around with a guest."
Killian sat down at his desk and woke up his computer. "Who?"
"That newly elected Sheriff," said Weaver. "Evidently she's got some ideas as to how the Sheriff's station and the Police Department can collaborate… or something to that effect. Ruby wasn't exactly sure on the details, but the point is that the Captain is going to be showing her around soon. You're lucky you got back so quickly. I'm sure Captain Mills would be thrilled to show the Sheriff her station only to find that one of her detectives had gone AWOL."
Realizing how close he had come to getting on the sore side of one of the least understanding persons around, Killian ran his fingers through his hair. He looked down at his desk littered with paperwork and pictures of Alice. Hearing the snap of a rubber band, he looked up at his daughter, still playing with the rubber band ball.
"Good thing we made it back in time then," she said brightly.
Shaking his head, Killian logged back into his computer and pulled up the paperwork that he had been filling out when he had gotten the call from the school. He knew that he had lost some valuable time in the day and it would be hard to make it up, but if he at least tried to catch up, it wouldn't be so bad.
He heard the door open before he could finish his first report. Though he couldn't see the door from where his desk was, due to the shape of the room, Killian looked up, knowing that after only a few steps whoever had come in would appear. He didn't need to wait that long even.
"And here we have our two detectives," said the familiarly disdainful voice of the Captain.
"Hello, Regina!" said Alice, smirking a little at such casual disrespect towards authority through inappropriate familiarity.
The middle aged woman pursed her lips, an expression that Killian had seen on his boss's face countless times since she had been promoted. She looked back over her shoulder to speak to the Sheriff still standing out of Killian's sightlines. "And their progeny," Regina amended. Turning her attention back to Alice, Regina said, "I don't recall what holiday it is today, but there must be one, unless there's another reason you're here."
"Suspension Day?" joked Alice.
Regina shook her head and turned to Killian. As he met her coal-like eyes, Killian could see that there was some snide insult that would be phrased as a joke on the tip of her tongue. Watching her lip twitch, Killian wished that she would just let out whatever had come to her mind, whether it be a quip about his ability to raise Alice as a single father or whether she would express fake concern over just what sorts of things Alice could be getting up to following in his footsteps.
Instead, Regina's companion spoke. "A holiday I remember well." The voice was light, as if the woman was smiling.
Finally the Sheriff stepped into view.
"Detective Weaver, Detective Jones," said Regina, smoothing over her expression, "allow me to introduce Sheriff Swan."
"Really, there's no need for introductions," said Weaver, getting to his feet. "We are all familiar with Sheriff Swan from her campaign." He looked over at the blonde woman. "A well fought campaign. I didn't vote for you myself, but I don't vote."
"I won't take it personally, then," the Sheriff said, folding her arms.
Considering the final vote tallies, Killian was pretty sure that even if Weaver and fifty of his friends had decided to vote for Sydney Glass, Swan still would have the sheriff's badge pinned to her chest.
"It's good to be meeting the both of you," said the Sheriff, green eyes sweeping from Detective Weaver to Killian. "I know that traditionally our departments have worked separately, but I think that our community will be best served by everyone working together, rather than apart."
Killian saw the Sheriff's eyes flick down to where his left hand should have been. Reflexively, Killian put his black hand in his lap, the back of his ears beginning to turn pink.
The woman paused, clearly flustered. Her gaze shifted quickly back to Weaver. "I have a few projects that I am very interested in getting started that I believe you both will be able to help with." She reached into her pocket and pulled out a crisp business card. She walked over to Weaver's desk, but before she could hand it to the man, Alice reached up to grab it. "That is my number and email," she said, hesitating.
Weaver took the ivory card from Alice and placed it on his desk. "One of us will give you a call when time permits," he said smoothly, as if he actually meant it.
Sheriff Swan slowly nodded before wordlessly heading back to the corridor.
After one last final disapproving glance around the office, Regina too walked away. Out of sight, the door clicked firmly shut.
"She's cute," said Alice with a grin. When met with the silence and disapproving stares of the two detectives, Alice quickly added, "What? I can't be the only one who noticed?"
Killian had certainly noticed. He had noticed the first time he had seen her face in the article in newspaper saying that Sheriff Graham's recently appointed deputy would be campaigning to replace him after his sudden death. He had noticed her sharp chin and graceful curls. It had hardly been a picture that had done her justice, he had later realized when he had attended the debate between Sydney Glass and Emma Swan. No, that picture had failed to capture so much about her. The life in her eyes, the determination in her voice, the sheer stubbornness of will that had come through and won his vote. Now as he sat at his desk, he couldn't help but feel a little bit disappointed in Sheriff Swan.
"She's an outsider with a project," said Weaver, crumpling up the business card. "In my experience that always means trouble." He shook his head. "What she looks like is irrelevant."
"We were outsiders once," said Alice defensively.
Weaver gave one of his weak, hollow laughs that only managed to raise the corners of one side of his mouth. "You were a toddler with a teenage father who let you eat marmalade out of the jar. No, Sheriff Swan is an entirely different entity." He tossed the balled up cardstock into the trash bin by his desk.
"That was only a couple of times," mumbled Killian from his desk.