If you are looking for detailed sexual descriptions, this story is not for you. I wanted to go more for the romance, the grand gestures, the funny and memorable moments in life. There are a few hints of what's going on under the sheets, but nothing graphic. Also, I pretty much have the story finished except for my obsessive tweaking, so if you do like it, I will have it up in it's entirety before the end of the month. I deeply appreciate comments so please let me know what you think!

chapter 1

"All right, move along, don't block the sidewalk," Lt. Emma Swan called to the crowd milling around the sidewalk as she marched towards the apartment building, where Robin Locksley stood waiting for her and her partner Killian Jones to arrive. Her badge was clipped to her belt and the sun hitting it gave off a flash of light on an otherwise dreary day. "What do you have, detective?" she asked the larger man as they met on the steps. "A meth lab, Lieutenant," Robin answered gravely, as he led them up to the door, "and one of the biggest we've found—professional grade. The lab boys are dismantling it right now, and packaging up evidence." The three of them ducked inside the building. "A lot of fingerprints, so it's a good start," he added.

When they walked back outside a half hour later, the afternoon sidewalk was still filled with the curious; passersby, the neighbors, and 4 or 5 men who looked like they might have been customers at the now-closed drug house. Ragged and dirty, they were the ones who caught Emma's eye, and she led Killian and Robin over to the men, who were flopped on a stairwell that led to an empty basement apartment. "Hello, boys," she called as she eyed them. Many were either asleep or stoned—she wondered if any were dead- but a few glared up at her.

"Piss off!" one of them spat on the ground near her foot. She turned her attention to him. He was scrawny, and looked like a homeless, drugged out vagrant, wearing a battered knit hat, a plain gray jacket with rips in both sleeves, and a ratty sweat-stained shirt underneath. His jeans were also ripped and tattered, and his shoes were falling apart. His face looked gray and pasty and covered with stubble, and she would have been hard pressed to guess his age.

"Okay, we'll start with you." She answered him with a slight grimace, her hands on her hips. She could smell the stale odor of alcohol rising from the entire group. She glared down at him, and he rolled his eyes at her, and rubbed his nose with the back of his filthy hand.

"Start wif me what?" He demanded, and the other men around him snickered. He grinned at them, encouraged, and swung back around to her. "You see anything?" she continued, her hands on her hips. "I didn't see nuffing!" he shot back, swaying to his feet. The others laughed out loud, and a couple more stood up with him, leering at the detectives. "Nuffing," he continued, grinning at his friends, "except some dumbass cops askin' dumbass questions!" He and the other two leaned against each other, laughing until one of them fell down the steps with a thump.

"What's your name?" Robin spat out, pulling himself up to his full height and stepping right into the shorter man's face. "None o' your damn business, pig!" The man stepped away from his pal and leaned into Robin's face, swaying a little. "Even if I did know anythin', I wouldn't tell shit like you!" He spat again, narrowly missing Robin's face. One of his friends behind him laughed louder, while the other sat down suddenly on the first step and looked like he might vomit any minute.

"Okay, that's enough." Robin grabbed the man, and spun him around. "Drunk and disorderly, for starters." "Lemme go!" The man cursed and struggled against the larger detective, who pulled his arms firmly behind his back and handcuffed him. Robin grabbed the man's filthy coat collar and jerked his head back, twisting his arms up. "And believe me, you'll tell us anything we want to know." "'Ey, yer breakin' my arm!" He yelped, and tried vainly to escape. One of the men in the stairwell backed off, not in the least interested in spending a night in a holding cell. But two others stumbled up the steps and grabbed for Robin, drunkenly hoping to free their friend. Killian and Emma jumped into the fray, and were immediately joined by uniformed cops who had been standing watch at the crime scene.

Kicking and shouting, the first man continued to struggle against Robin, but the big detective had an iron grip, and threw him roughly into the back seat of the squad car. Soon two more bums joined him, all three jeering, cursing, and kicking. A uniformed cop slid behind the wheel, and Emma leaned into the driver's side window. "Take them down to HQ," she instructed, "I want to question all three of them."

As the car drove off, Emma called to her fellow detectives. "Let's go," she told them, "we can process all this back at the station." Killian slid behind the wheel of their unmarked car, and Emma jumped into the passenger seat, while Robin headed back to his own vehicle.

Upon arrival at the station, the three bums were brought up from the holding cell and handcuffed to chairs in the main precinct office, chairs that faced three desks in a row. Killian began to question one, Robin took the second, and Emma sat down at the desk next to the scrawny man Robin had first arrested, and eyed him sternly. "Name," she ordered.

"Kiss off, bitch," he replied, and glared at her. She heard a snicker from the bum in the next seat.

Her eyes widened. "Really? You want to do this the hard way, you say?" she kept her composure as she lay her pen down on the desk.

The chief's secretary, Ruby Lucas, happened at that moment to walk past them, and the bum rolled his eyes at her. Her long auburn hair trailed down her shoulders like a waterfall in the sunlight, and her dress fit her curves like her own skin. Her legs looked even longer with the stiletto heels she glided in. She moved like royalty and she knew it.

The tattered man immediately took notice. "Hey, sweetheart, you wanna ask me a question?" he called to her, "Cause I got an answer for you," he leered as he leaned over backwards to watch her disappear. Both of the other vagrants laughed at him. Ruby pursed her lips, her crimson lipstick gleaming, and kept walking, although she seemed to slow down just a bit, as if to show the entire room something no one there would ever get to touch.

Emma reached over and grabbed his collar. "Okay, we're going to continue this in private." She unlocked the cuff that held him to the chair and reattached it to his wrist. "Sgt. Jones, you're with me," she called as she jerked the man out of the chair and half dragged him back to the detective's office in the rear. Although he struggled and cursed even more, she held him tightly, shoved him into the room, and Killian slammed the door behind them.

Once inside, Emma quickly uncuffed him, and the man sat down in one of the chairs, taking a deep breath. Emma grabbed another chair, and Killian pulled a third one up to the desk. "What do you have for us, Will?" she asked him.

The bum took off his hat and stuffed it in his pocket. "First, let me say I don't appreciate getting roughed up like that," he complained good naturedly. Killian smiled, "You don't want the neighborhood to know you're an undercover cop, do you?" Will sighed, "Yeah, but I think Rob enjoyed cuffing me and stuffing me into the squad car just a little too much."

"He's YOUR partner, you can complain about it to him later, "Emma interrupted, "but right now I need your report."

Detective William Scarlet sat up straighter, all business. "Two guys were regulars in the apartment, Greg Mandel and Tam Peters. They carried a lot of boxes and equipment inside over a two week period. Then they pretty much had a steady stream of people going in and out." "Buyers?" Emma asked. "More like sellers," Will replied. "They were taking out more than they could have used themselves, and I followed them a few times. They headed uptown, then split up, covering a lot of ground. They had to be doin' some distributing in different neighborhoods." Killian had been busy at the computer. "Mandel and Peters both have rap sheets," he confirmed. "But the last time we nailed them, they were working for Andre Gold."

They all sat in silence for a few seconds as that name took root in their minds. Gold was a big fish in town, and had beaten the rap so many times people half-believed he was magical.

Emma stared hard at the young detective sitting in front of her. She knew he was reckless, and took chances others on her staff, older and more cautious, would not necessarily take. "You followed them? You sure they didn't make you?" Will grinned. "Hey," he replied casually, "I'm a shadow on the street." "Yeah, well if Gold's involved," Killian advised, "you better be less than a shadow."

Emma looked at Killian. "Gold's the one I want, he's the one who's behind this. I'd bet my pension on it." Her voice was controlled anger. Will slid down in his chair and stared at the ceiling. "Well," he answered, "You ain't gonna strike Gold at the dump you were at this morning, cuz he wouldn't be caught dead in that crummy part of town." "So we'll move our operation to him," Emma decided. "I'll talk to Captain Nolan right away." She went out the door they had all come in.

Killian looked up from his computer screen. "David will definitely approve this, so I guess you'll be going back to the streets," he commented. Will pulled his hat out from his pocket and flicked away an imaginary speck of dust. "I guess so," he confirmed with a grin, "You know how I love rollin' around in the gutter." Killian shot him a severe look. "Just make sure you aren't rollin' around with a slug in you," Killian returned.

Will stood up. "Aw, don't worry about me," he laughed. "I'm havin' too much fun out there!" He tossed his hat in the air a few times, catching it on one finger and flipping it back up. Killian rose and walked over to him. "Too much fun," he answered, "means too many risks." He reached out suddenly and grabbed the hat in midair and slapped it gently into Will's chest for effect. "You know what she would say if she realized you didn't have your armored vest on."

Will shook his head, "Yeah, and the minute some punk realizes I'm wearing police issue, I'm done—on a slab." He tossed his hat up again. "If you want to catch the bad guys, you gotta take some risks." He looked slyly up at Killian, "Besides, you and Robin were the ones who taught me how to take risks in the first place." Killian didn't rise to the bait. "Robin and I," he emphasized as his finger pushed against Will's shoulder, "knew when to take risks, and when to avoid them. Make sure you do the same."

Emma returned. "I caught David just as he was leaving," she grinned. "He was in a hurry to get home to Mary Margaret. You know how those two are. Anyway, he approved everything, and we've got the okay to move the operation north." She collected the paperwork spread on the desk in front of them, and looked up at her undercover officer. "I'll let Robin know about this, so you two can keep in touch. And Will," she gestured at his clothes, "you'll need something different," "New rags, got it," he grinned at her. "I want to get started on this immediately," she continued. "Then I'll be on my way," Will stood up and stretched, "see you later." "And touch base with your partner," she called as he headed towards a door on the opposite side of the room.

"I worry about him," Emma remarked to Killian as they watched Will slip out a rear door. Killian shook his head, "Were we ever that young?" Emma laughed humorlessly; she knew they'd both skated on the same thin ice that Will Scarlet seemed to enjoy so much. "He gets into this too deeply," she sighed. "Yeah," Killian agreed, "he needs to have a life-get laid once in a while." Emma laughed. "I think he's the only one on the squad not getting any," Killian added with a smirk, and as the door closed, he pulled Emma to him and kissed her. "Ooooh," she moaned softly into his open mouth, "I may need my handcuffs tonight."