Hi guys! So, this story is focused more on modern setting, and sort of stemmed from the idea of Emma starting out in the Bail Bonds world after Neal had left her in jail, and her life with a certain Pirate being introduced a whole lot sooner ;) Rated M to be on the safe side (and for later scenes! ;) ) and mild language.

Hope you like!

She squirmed restlessly in the heavy wool blanket, closed eyes rolling about, laden with a pained anxiety.

"No…don't," she moaned in her sleep, the words reaching empty walls and spitting her fear back in her face.

With a strained cry, her eyes blinked suddenly open. Soft, dull beams of pale morning light drifted in from her cell window.

She took a deep, steadying breath and brought her knees to her chest, huddling in the dingy bed.

A moment later, her ears perked up to the rusty grated sound of a key turning in the lock of her cell door, and an expressionless, uniformed woman stepped inside.

"Term's up, Swan," she said, in a monotonous drone that sounded bored and dissatisfied. "You're free to go."

Emma took a quick intake of breath, staring back dazedly at the official for one frozen moment. The woman started to narrow her eyes in annoyance, when Emma took another deep breath and rose to her feet.

"Thank you," she mumbled, starting to walk past the woman into the hallway, but the latter caught her arm.

"It's your life, Swan," she murmured gravely. "Try to make it a better one this time."

Then she released her, and they were walking down the long, grey corridor.

-i-.-i-

Emma's hand quivered ever so slightly as she reached for the knob and opened the dark wooden door. A brilliant blue sky blasted back at her, the sun winking merrily off of lampposts and cars. It felt—foreign, garishly too bright.

She clenched her hands lightly and, with a labored breath, took a step forward into her new freedom.

-i-.-i-

She looked from the scrap of notepaper in her hand to the dingy blue sign above her head: DEREK M'KEETER'S BAIL BONDS in large block letters. Shoving the paper in her back pocket, she opened the storefront door and stepped in.

The little office building was a shabby two-room unit with a monotone beige color scheme that was just a little too heavily air-conditioned and reeked of stale cologne.

A big-busted red-head in an all-too-revealing blue top looked up from the desk in the corner as the jingle of the overhead bell rang out Emma's arrival.

"Can I help ya?" she questioned disinterestedly.

"I'm looking for Derek M'Keeter?" Emma replied, stepping towards the desk.

"Little Emma Swan!" A hearty voice rang out, clouded in a thick Boston accent. Emma turned to see the 6'2" muscled young man with the usual disheveled brown hair and toothy, dimpled grin stride towards her from the back office. The corner of her mouth lifted slightly. Derek M'Keeter had resided with her during many of her years of differing foster parents, and had often taken up the role of older brother before he'd reached the age of independence and left the system.

"Hi Derek," she murmured, a little embarrassed.

"What can I do for ya, Emmy?" he inquired jovially as he reached her.

"I was looking to see if you had any opportunities open? Trying to start fresh."

Derek cocked an eyebrow.

"Here to join the side of the angels, babe?"

Emma felt a pang in her stomach. She didn't want to think about what had made her decide to stop being on the side of the criminals and start chasing them, or, more specifically, who had brought about that decision….

"Eight months in a cell'll do that to you," she mumbled. "And I'd hardly call you an angel, 'Keeter." Her mouth turned up in the vague semblance of a smile, and Derek grinned back at her as he pulled both hands to his chest.

"You wouldn't want to dent a poor man's reputation, surely?" he said in a mock affronted tone. "Although I'm not ashamed to say I was your original tutor, just not loud enough for the cops to hear a'course."

A chuckle gurgled from the back of Emma's throat, and Derek threw her a wink.

"I'm sure we have somethin' for ya, babe," he said, straightening. "Margery, what are we lookin' at with cases?"

The red-headed 'Margery' gave a displeased sniff from the corner, clearly unimpressed with Emma Swan.

"You're pretty well off, Derek," she said, and then turned to Emma. "Sorry, don't think we have anything for you right now, hon."

Emma cocked her head to one side as she assessed the red-head.

"…I'm not really sure I believe that," she said slowly, her eyebrows knitting together, and Derek gave out a hearty laugh.

"No good tryin' to pull the wool over on this one, doll," he said to his assistant, shaking his head. "She's got a special superpower; human lie-detector. Woulda' made a good cop." He froze for a moment and then turned back to Emma. "Say, Emmy, thats a good idea. I think I know how we can put those powers a' yours to good use."

Derek moved into his own office and emerged a moment later with a manilla folder.

"This should be right up your alley, Em," he said, handing her the folder. "We can start ya as a recovery agent, reco'nizin' and chasin' down perps."

"You mean like a bounty hunter?" Emma asked, thumbing through the files, the snapshots of the bail-skippers moving by like a flip book of angry caricatures. Derek grinned again.

"Yeah, sorta," he agreed. "I even gotta' gun and a pair'a 'cuffs I could letcha borrow, if you promise to be good a' course."

The vision of satisfyingly slapping a pair of silver handcuffs on Neal's gruff wrists and hauling his ass into custody flashed into her mind. She blinked it away, but the resolve remained.

"I'll take it," she stated.

"Atta' girl." Derek winked.

-i-.-i-

Half an hour later, they sat in his little beige office, facing one-another across the wide desk. The gun was holstered securely at her hip beneath the faded vest she wore, and the handcuffs tucked safely in her abdomen pocket.

Derek took a paper-clipped stack of files out of the manilla folder, and slid the top one across the table to Emma. Attached at the top was the picture of a strikingly beautiful woman in her middle-to-late 30's, scowling at the camera with a black block sign in her hands.

"Coraline Mills," Derek said as Emma picked up the file. "Known to the darker side a' town as the 'Queen a' Hearts.' Whether that's cause a'her fancy of the male gender or relates to some a' the darker stuff she does in the criminal world I don't know and I don't ask."

Emma nodded solemnly, her eyes skimming the page.

"This is the top case right now, biggest priority," Derek said, pointing to the file. "The cops were after her fa' years, for some pretty hefty crimes; never able ta' find any proof, though. It looked pretty bleak until they were finally able to catch her on a flimsy truspassin' charge." Here he paused his dialogue to pull out another file, this time with no photograph.

"But she had a partner. This here's her current boy toy; likes to go by the colloquial a' 'Hook.' He bailed her out, but she never showed up for the court date. That's where you come in. You go after her, we get our cut. 10%."

Emma nodded slowly, showing her understanding.

"Any idea where I should start?" she asked, green eyes looking up inquiringly.

"I'd start at the bar she used ta' frequent," Derek said, pulling out the last file. "The Jolly Roger."

And who do we possibly know what could be at The Jolly Roger :) Next part up soon!

Lemme' know what you guys think in the review section below!