A/N: Wow ok it's been awhile. Apparently, I have a major problem with consistency, sorry!

Also, it appears that I have a fascination with parent-child relationships because I'm here with another one of those stories. Maybe it's because my relationship with my own parents is so unconventional, I don't know. But I lost all of my muse for Suddenly, my Grey's Anatomy story. I've pretty much lost all interest in the fandom in general. I might update at some point, whenever my muse feels like acting up, but if I do, it probably won't be for awhile. Sorry!

However, that being said, I have a HUGE muse for Bates Motel. Little known fact, but this is my favorite series of all time. I really don't want to lose the spark for this story like I did with my other one, so there will be a lot of storylines and events that don't happen in the show. Most of it will probably not be canon. It would be boring for you to read, and for me, as a writer to write.

I don't have an update schedule established, but I already have some chapters pre written, so my schedule should be somewhat more regular! I'm starting freshman year so I'll probably be a little busy, but I will always find time to write. That's a promise.

So, I present to you, Little Sheriff. If you have any questions, comments, whatever, please leave a review. Those mean the most to me. Thank you for reading! -Mya

Little Sheriff: Chapter One

Her fingers traced along the pale blue walls, carefully avoiding knocking down all the pictures that lined them. A first dance recital, a wedding, a little boy's birthday party, and a three year old Charlie wearing a sunhat, sitting on the beach, smiling up at her father who was cradling her in his arms. This house was filled with so many memories, some good, some bad, but none of which she wanted to forget.

Yesterday had been the last day she would ever walk the halls of her high school, and the last time she would see any of her friends, for a while at least. Her goodbyes with her best friends, Isla and Rose, were sad, but it was her goodbye to Finn that really hit her the hardest.

Finn was her boyfriend of seven months. He'd nervously asked her to prom at the end of her sophomore year, and his junior year, the proposal complete with a bouquet of roses and a giant cardboard cutout of Leonardo DiCaprio to win her over. Finn knew that he was her biggest crush. She'd said yes, and they went to prom only as friends, but slowly it evolved into more than a friendship. They had the sweet, teenage romance that everyone envied. The throwing-rocks-at-windows, kissing on the front porch, teddy bear buying type of love. They rarely fought, which may or may not have been a bad thing, and were each other's safe place. That's why it was so devastating when her mother announced that she was moving to White Pine Bay. Begrudgingly, she'd kissed him goodbye, and looked into his honey colored eyes one last time.

It was very apparent that Charlie didn't want to leave. She didn't want to abandon all of her friends, her family, everything that she had established in the past sixteen years. More than anything, she wanted to stay. But it was time to go, and her mother wasn't known for being patient.

The car was all loaded up with her things, and various people. Her stepfather sat in the driver's seat, looking smug as ever. He had tried to convince her mom to ship her off to live with her dad for a while now. It appeared he had finally won. Next was her mother, Julia Emerson; she made casseroles, wore pearls, and vacuumed like it was going out of style. The woman had never made one mistake in her entire life. At least, not until now. Then there was her little brother, who, simply stated, was a brat.

"Come on, Charlie," The woman impatiently rolled down her car window, and motioned for her daughter to come to the car so they could leave. Charlie was standing in the front yard, trying to memorize every detail. The tree with the tire swing. The specific spot on the grass where her parents would have "picnics" with her, back when her father still lived here. He'd moved from White Pine Bay to Portland for her mother, only to move back to his hometown just a few years later. Her mom was a lot more fun back then.

The raven haired girl sighed and shuffled towards the car. "Coming." She set her backpack on the floor of the vehicle and climbed in next to Gabe.

༺ ༻

The car ride was long and boring, just what Charlie had expected. They lived about 2 and a half hours away from "White Pine Bay," wherever the hell that was located. She'd been there a few times, a few weeks a year, for nine years to be exact, but still had no idea where it was.

Charlie drowned out the sounds of her stepfather making down-putting, slightly sexist comments by listening to the deepest indie music she could find. This was her life now. She was going to become an angsty, repressed teenager. She was honestly surprised that it hadn't happened before now. They'd stopped once for a bathroom break, because Gabriel, being the dumb-ass he usually was, drank an entire super-sized gas station slushie before they left, and decided against going to the bathroom when they were still at home. But then it was back on the road. They'd gone in and out of rain a few times, which was typical in Oregon. Apparently, it rained more in White Pine Bay than it did in Portland. Charlie didn't mind. She liked the rain.

The next thing she knew they pulling into the somewhat familiar driveway of a somewhat familiar house, so she could go see a somewhat familiar man. It wasn't that Charlie and her dad didn't get along; when they were together they had a pretty good system, actually. He didn't ask any questions, she didn't give any answers. Alex Romero was a pretty simple man, and Charlotte Romero was his pretty simple daughter.

The house looked the same as when she had been here last year. A nice front porch with a swing, some brightly colored flowers that were surprisingly well-kept, and a recently mowed yard. The paint on the fence surrounding the house was chipping a little, and the staple giant oak tree was covered with leaves that were all different shades of orange, red, and yellow.

Charlie opened her car door begrudgingly and heaved her heavy backpack out. It was filled almost entirely with books and journals.

"Goodbye, Charlotte, I love you!" Her mother got out of the car as well and hugged her tightly while she cringed, and pretended to hate that this interaction was happening. But the truth was, she was trying to snapshot it all. The way her Chanel perfume smelt, the exact color of her sweater, how soft her blonde curls were, and the look of real sadness in her eyes when she handed her daughter over to her father.

"Mom, I thought we agreed to not use 'Charlotte,'" She scoffed. She hated the name with a passion, insisting that it sounded like something an old lady with twenty cats would be named. She started forcing everyone to call her Charlie at the beginning of second grade on.

"Shut up, and for one minute, just be my Charlotte," She said, pulling Charlie tighter to her chest. Usually, she wasn't sappy like this. It was a little weird, but she wasn't going to complain any more than she already had.

Julia Emerson had, at one point, been a free spirit, and a kind, loving mother. Her jeans were constantly stained from all the painting she did, she'd blast music in the living room and spin around a young Charlie, and was a force to be reckoned with. This had all changed when she divorced Alex and married David. Somehow, he'd found a way to put the light in her out. Now, she had been reduced to nothing more than a simple housewife. When Charlie asked her mother why she chose to divorce her father, her response was they had simply fallen out of love. But even as a child, Charlie knew that wasn't true. People didn't just fall out of love.

Then Charlie said goodbye to her stepfather, which was basically just a nod of recognition, and to her brother, Gabe, which involved a little more embracing, but barely. They waited in the driveway until they saw that she had gotten in the house okay, and then they sped off. Charlie rolled her eyes at how eager they seemed to get away.

The front door was locked, but luckily she remembered where the spare key was. Sure enough, when she lifted up one of the flower pots that was holding a bright patch of marigolds, there it was, glinting happily in the sun's rays. She picked it up, fumbled with a little, and pushed the door open. It smelt like pine trees and cologne and was seemingly empty. "Hello?" Charlie called, not expecting anyone to reply. She dropped her bags in the living room, and just as expected when she went into the kitchen, there was a little blue Post-It note stuck to the fridge.

Charlie,

There's food in the fridge, or you can go into town and get something. I left $50 on the dining room table. Won't be home until late. I'm glad you're here, kid.

—Dad

She opened the fridge and was not at all surprised by what was staring back at her. A newly bought six-pack of beer, steak, some fruits and veggies, a questionable looking block of cheddar cheese, and a half eaten salad. For a man who somehow kept his garden nice and tidy, grocery shopping was not at all one of his strong suits.

༺ ༻

People in White Pine Bay had always seen Charlie as just the sheriff's little girl. It wasn't as though they had a lot of other things to associate her with. It wasn't like she was here a lot. A few weeks a year was nothing, especially when it was during the summer. But now that she would be going to school here, she realized that she would have to attempt to make friends and small talk with the boring adults that always tried to compare her to her father.

Charlie entered the best diner in town, Georgia's, and seated herself in one of the booths. It might not actually be the best diner in town, as she was sort of biased. Georgia and Henry, the owners, were her godparents. But she liked to think that everyone appreciated the blue booths and old school vibes as much as she did. Charlie hadn't been sitting there two minutes when she felt a tap on her shoulder. Her eyes flitted up to see an ecstatic looking Georgia, whose mouth was open slightly in surprise.

"Well, I'll be damned. Charlotte Romero? You grew out of the pigtails!" She held her arms out. Charlie stood up and warmly embraced the woman. A smile graced her face.

"Hi, Georgia."

The pair pulled away after a few seconds, but Georgia kept her hands in the younger girl's and looked her over. If anyone else did this she would have definitely felt weird, but this was Georgia's thing. Every time she saw her she had to make some comment about how big Charlie had gotten, and then she'd do her routine inspection of her goddaughter, to see how much she'd changed. "It's been too long, honey."

"It really has been. I've missed you guys."

"We've missed you too, Charlie."

And Charlie really had missed them. Probably more than anything or anyone else, actually. She felt bad. She hadn't visited them the last few times she'd come here. But now that she was seeing her, it was like they'd never been apart. Georgia, despite not living in the deep South for years, still had the heavy Southern accent, slightly greying blonde hair, and vibrant pink lipstick, her signature. Henry probably still had the age spots on his cheeks and the booming laugh.

Georgia looked behind Charlie, in the booth where she had been sitting, and raised an eyebrow. "Where's your dad?"

The teenager shrugged. "I don't know. Out doing cop things, I guess."

Georgia waved a hand in the air and scoffed. She'd always been very opinionated and had told Alex Romero on many occasions, most of which were over a slice of pie, that he needed to spend more time with his daughter. "Well, tell him hi for me. And come visit! We still live in the same house on Cherry Street. Henry will be thrilled to hear that you're back." She smiled and gave Charlie a kiss on the forehead, before going off to help another customer. She sat with what had just happened for a few seconds before wiping the lipstick off with a napkin and going back to looking at the menu.

"I didn't know Sheriff Romero had a daughter."

Charlie looked up to see a blonde woman and a dark-haired boy standing next to her table. They were presumably mother and son. The woman was smiling down at her, and her son was standing awkwardly behind her, his hands shoved in his pockets. He was cute but looked nothing like the blonde, who was a classic kind of beauty. A pleasant change from most of the Barbie Dolls that lived in White Pine Bay.

"Well, you seem to be the only one." Charlie chuckled a little and set the menu down.

"I'm Norma Bates, and this is my son, Norman." The woman, now identified as Norma, pointed behind her and held out her hand. The girl shook it and then shook Norman's. "Charlie." She introduced herself. Norma and Norman was a little... strange. But who was she to judge? Charlie was pretty sure her mother had named her after the Sex and the City character.

"We just moved into the old Seafairer a couple of days ago. You two look to be about the same age?"

The Seafairer. Her father's childhood friend, Keith Summers, and his family had owned it before it got taken by the bank. She was glad that it finally had new owners. Maggie was okay, but she'd always thought Keith was a real asshole.

"I'm a junior, you?" Charlie asked, directing her attention towards Norman.

"Me too. I haven't seen you at school, though," Norman pointed out. Charlie made a mental note that she had to keep her language in check around him. He seemed like a prim and proper kid.

"Actually, I just moved here, too," She explained. "I used to live with my mom, but I guess she wanted to swap. I start school tomorrow."

Norma offered a sympathetic smile and pointed to a booth nearby where two jackets and a purse were sitting. "Well, Charlie, if you want to come sit with us and give us a briefing of White Pine Bay, I'd be happy to buy you dinner," The blonde woman looked hopeful.

"Mrs. Bates, you really don't have to do that-" She quickly tried to discourage Norma, but was instantly pushed back.

"-Call me Norma, please. And I insist! We're from Arizona, and we don't really know how anything works around here." Blue eyes met green, and for a few seconds, the two women just studied each other.

Charlie gave up on the staring contest they were currently engaged in and sighed. "Okay, if you're sure. I don't want to intrude."

Instantly, Norma's eyes lit up with excitement, and she flashed a smile. "It's no intrusion at all."

Charlie picked up the small bag she'd brought with her, and her jacket she'd strewn next to her, and followed the Bates clan back to their table. Norman and Norma had been sitting across from each other, and neither looked like they were going to make an effort to change the setup. "Scoot over, Norman," Norma looked her son squarely in the eyes. He did as he was told, and readjusted as the girl sat down.

Norma was the first to try and provoke conversation. "So you said you just moved here? Where did you live before?"

"Portland, actually. But I've been visiting White Pine Bay practically my whole life. That's why everyone knows who I am," Charlie glanced around the room briefly, surveying everyone in there. Just from a quick glance, she could spot fifteen people whose names, and kids names she knew.

"Portland, huh? I've never been, but I've always wanted to plan a trip there. You said you lived there with your mom?"

Charlie quickly ushered a "Thanks," as one of the waitresses came over and set down three glasses of water for them. The girl must have been somewhat new. Charlie didn't recognize her, but her nameplate said that her name was Malia. "Yeah. My parents are divorced, I see my dad for a few weeks in the summer."

"Why the sudden change? Why move here?"

She stuck her straw in her cup, took a drink, and then pushed it away before looking at Norma. "Well, in all honesty, my step-dad has tried to convince my mom of this for a while. He doesn't like me very much, for whatever reason. Anyways, I guess he finally said something that won her over, and now I'm here." She shrugged her shoulders carelessly. It wasn't that big of a deal anymore, now that she was actually in White Pine Bay, and the cruel man was out of her sight. Now she wouldn't have to make painful small talk with him at the breakfast table. It was no big deal to Charlie, that's why she was so surprised when Norma grabbed her hand.

"Aw, honey, I'm sorry." Norma's eyes were filled with real empathy, and even a little bit of pity, which Charlie loathed. But she could see that this woman genuinely cared. Maybe White Pine Bay wouldn't be that bad after all. Maybe she should give all of the people here a second chance.

༺ ༻

"Hey, Dad," Charlie called behind her when she heard the front door open a few hours after she'd gotten back from the diner. The trio had talked for two hours after getting their food. Actually, Norma and Charlie did most of the talking. They had really taken a liking to each other. She was friendly and had a wicked sense of humor. But Norman was a little strange. Not rude or anything, just strange. He didn't really say much and was always looking around the room like he was trying to observe everyone and everything. But after that, they exchanged phone numbers, and Norma assured her that she was welcome to stop by anytime.

The walk home wasn't very long; ten minutes, give or take. The second she'd stepped foot in the door, Charlie's phone started to ring. It was Isla calling, so of course, she answered. They talked for a good hour. After that Charlie picked up a book and had been reading ever since.

"Hey, Charlie," Alex said, ruffling his daughter's hair. Most dads that only got to see their kid once a year would be ecstatic about them coming to live with them, but not her dad. He seemed pretty mellow about the situation. It was part of the Alex Romero allure, she guessed.

He went to the kitchen and got a beer out of the fridge. Must have been a boring day at work. Usually, he reached for the hard liquor. He wasn't a drunk or anything, but definitely wasn't the type of guy to have one simple beer and call it a night.

"Did you make dinner?" Alex asked while coming back into the living room. He took a seat in his recliner in the corner of the room and looked in the direction of Charlie.

She looked up from her book briefly. "Nope, I went to the diner. Georgia says hi. I wasn't exactly going to eat a tomato or half of a salad."

"I was wondering when I'd hear from her, again." He laughed, and lifted his beer up and took a sip. Afterwards, he set the bottle down on one of the coasters on the side table next to him. "Let's just say I haven't had a lot of time to go grocery shopping lately. I've been working on a tough case."

"Well, today must have been an exceptionally easy day at work. Usually, you go for whiskey or bourbon." Charlie raised an eyebrow cautiously. Her father was acting weird. It was impossible for him to not be acting a little off, though. He'd spent the entire day digging deep into the Keith Summers' murder case. He had finally come to the conclusion of who killed his childhood friend. Alex had a strange feeling that it was Norma Bates, the new owner of The Seafairer, the very woman that, unbeknownst to him, his daughter had eaten dinner with that night. He'd met her a few nights ago at the motel, where she was doing some "re-carpeting" at two in the morning. That was when he'd gotten the inkling that Keith was dead, and she had something to do with it.

"It was.. an interesting day."

Charlie scoffed and set her book face-down in front of her. "That's all I get? It was an 'interesting day?'"

"Shouldn't you be in bed? You have school in the morning," He expeditiously evaded the question.

"You picked an interesting time to play the parent card," Charlie rolled her eyes. and leaned forward in her chair. It was a little harsh, but she was definitely not in the mood for this right now.

Alex furrowed his brow and blinked a few times, clearly not expecting that reply. "Excuse me?"

Charlie stood up from the chair, and picked her book up, marking her spot with her index finger. She gave her father a small smile, before starting on her way to her bedroom. "Goodnight, Dad."

Her eyes were met with a bright stream of light as she flicked the switch on. The room was the same as the last time she saw it, but different from the time before that, and the time before that, and the time before that. Alex insisted on letting her redo it every time she came to visit. The offer would probably be coming soon. She was okay with how it was now, though. Pale yellow walls, white comforter, some accent pillows here and there. Nothing fancy. If he offered, which he would, Charlie would turn him down.

She'd unpacked most of her things already, she was just having a hard time figuring out where to store all of her books. But rather than figuring it out at this very moment, she opted to go to bed. Truth be told, she really was tired. Today had been.. a lot, and she was ready to forget about it all for a good six and a half hours, until tomorrow, when she'd begin her first day in hell.