Disclaimer: All OUAT characters are not mine. Obviously.

A/N: This is an original story of mine that I intended publish, but decided to fic for SwanQueen. Let me know what you think?

IMPORTANT A/N, PLEASE READ THIS! It has just been brought to my attention that there might possibly be some confusion about my story. My username on here used to be "SwanMills815". A username under which I had originally posted several original stories. I reached a point in my life where I basically just gave up on writing. I lost faith in myself and the words just quit coming to me. This story in particular was written all the way up to the last chapter, but I only ever finished half the chapter and it never had a conclusion. Recently a couple very good friends have given me the courage to start posting my work again. If anyone has any questions, I have multiple dear friends who I know are willing to vouch for me. The new username I am now posting under is the name of an original character in a 'crackfic' that I began writing in order to try to get myself back in the game! I truly am sorry for any and all confusion!

CHAPTER 1

The sun was setting as Emma Swan drove her motorcycle out of the city, headed down a long stretch of highway she knew well. Travelers were few and far between and the ride always gave her time to think. Time to clear her mind after a stressful day on the job. Some days were worse than others. Some days were just long. Tonight she was taking off just in time to watch the sun disappear on the horizon. The last hours of light were closing in fast, but she didn't mind. It's what she looked forward to. There was something about the sunset that soothed her soul. Even on days when she didn't think that was possible.

Though she sometimes found herself driving aimlessly until the sun was coming up once again, the rides were never long enough. It was easy to lose track of time when she never slept and all she had was herself, her iPod and the open road. When Emma first decided to purchase her motorcycle, her girlfriend Amanda had not been happy. Always the reasonable one, she was. And she always pitched a good argument that made it tough for Emma to resist. But the motorcycle was the one thing she wouldn't compromise on. While Amanda hadn't liked it, she could deny Emma nothing.

Emma accelerated well past the speed limit attempting to wash the thoughts of Amanda away. She was gone now and it didn't do Emma any good to think about her. She wouldn't be getting her back.

Right after high school Emma had attended the University of Maryland with her best friend who she'd known since junior high. Both graduated with a BS in Criminal Justice and after working for the Baltimore Police Department for two years she made the decision to apply for the Federal Bureau of Investigation. Ever so faithful, Emma's best friend Neal Cassidy decided that he wouldn't be outdone and couldn't let her apply to the FBI alone. After spending 20 weeks at the FBI Academy in Quantico, Virginia they were officially Special Agents for the FBI. Jobs they'd held since they were 25. Starting on the low end of the totem pole they eventually worked their way into the Organized Crime Unit. They'd been partners for nine years now. Having done everything together since the day they met, it only made sense.

The last light of the day was slowly fading from orange to pink with a hint of purple. Emma took a deep breath and wondered to herself how far she would drive before giving in and heading home. The late July air was warm, but Emma knew that it didn't matter whether or not it was summer time, when the sun went down it would take the warmth with it and she would be left with the cool summer wind. She mumbled to herself about nothing in particular even though there was no one to hear it. Emma did that a lot while she was driving. When thinking wasn't getting the job done, she found it best to just say it out loud. And sometimes when she couldn't find the words…she would sing along with the music, for only herself to hear. And though Emma's voice wasn't all that bad, she didn't sing much. Rarely when she was alone and never in front of anyone. Not even for Amanda.

It was a little after ten when she decided to turn around and head back to civilization. She didn't ride as far as she had anticipated. Her heart just wasn't in it and for a moment Emma considered stopping off at a little bar she had come to know well. She hadn't always been a loner but lately Emma found that keeping her own company was best. Best for her. Best for everyone. Her intentions were usually just to have a beer or two and- Who was she kidding? Those were never her intentions and going home with a different girl every time was nothing new to her.

Emma wanted to pretend she didn't know when she'd started acting the way she did, but knew she'd only be lying to herself. It had started the day Amanda left. Emma fell apart and shut out the rest of the world. Except her best friend; the only person she still kept close. After all, Neal had been there a lot longer than Amanda had and he still hadn't left her. He would never leave her. Would he?

Emma hadn't consciously decided to move on. But move on she did. Or so it seemed to everyone around her. She was searching for something now and though she didn't know what it was, she continued to look for it in the arms of willing women. And there were more than plenty of them. But Emma had yet to find that thing. That thing that was going to fill the void left in the wake of Amanda's absence.

But she wouldn't go to the bar tonight. No. Emma had work to do. Case files to look over. Plans to make. If she went to the bar Emma knew that she'd sit in the corner, have a few drinks and go home with someone she didn't know despite her better judgment. That wasn't such a good idea tonight. She just wasn't in the mood to deal with anyone else. At least once she made it home her files would keep her busy for a while.

. . .

When she finally arrived home some time later, Emma stopped off in her kitchen for a bottle of water and headed back to the living room. Having changed and gotten comfortable, she pulled her legs up and under her as she sat on the couch. Several files and manila envelopes were spread out next to her. Emma didn't feel like dealing with this case right now either. But it was going to be a toss-up between work and staring blankly at the ceiling in attempt to sleep. But sleep wasn't going to happen any time soon. It wasn't even one in the morning.

Finally she put forth the effort to pick up and open one of the envelopes that contained several photos that would eventually help build a strong case against Luis Mills. A man who supposedly had his hands in a lot of bad business around the city. Currently it was too hard to tell exactly who the man had in his pocket. Low-life thugs? Supposed upstanding citizens and government officials? The possibilities were endless.

At this point it was nearly impossible to know who could and could not be trusted. Emma flipped through the photos of men who appeared to be making deals. Handing off envelopes. Envelopes that presumably contained cash, in exchange for packages that contained drugs or who knew what else. There were too many different possibilities to choose from. Flipping to the next photograph, she paused in her effort, taking in the image in front of her. Emma had seen this photo a million times just as she had the others. But there was always something about this one that drew her in and there were so many more like it. The same people in all of the photos, doing various business transactions in broad daylight. But this photo…this one held something more.

Emma stared at the brunette woman in the picture accepting an envelope and handing off a large cylinder. The slight smile on her face always kept Emma's focus. It was the same smile that had caught her attention one night several weeks ago when she'd been sitting in the dark corner of the bar that she'd been frequenting lately. Emma had been surprised at the sheer coincidence of seeing the other woman there that night and many nights since.

All the times Emma had looked at the photos of her, she'd never actually approached her. Emma let the photo rest on her leg and reached for her bottle of water. Her mouth suddenly felt dry as she couldn't help but reflect on the times that followed after the first night she'd spotted Regina Mills across the room of that dark hole-in-the-wall the owners referred to as a bar.

Too many nights after, Emma had spotted the brunette across the room and she would watch as she talked to one person or another. Occasionally some of which seemed to be friends she had shown up with. Others not so much. But Emma never made any attempt to approach the other woman, content to just blend in and watch. Though, sometimes her vigil would be interrupted by another female openly wanting something from her. And Emma was always hard-pressed to refuse them as they served for a perfect distraction. The petite brunette was not on the list of options

Maybe she would talk to Neal tomorrow and see if he felt like going out with her. If Neal was there, Emma knew she would be less likely to give in to any wanton female seeking out her attention and after the long week they'd been having, she knew they could both use a drink. Or two. After all, tomorrow was Friday and they had the weekend off. And of course she wouldn't mind catching a glimpse of the one and only Regina Mills, either. Option or not, how much could it hurt to look?

. . .

The bar was located on Mt. Pleasant Avenue northwest, just twelve minutes from FBI headquarters. Emma and Neal liked to go there because it wasn't like most of the bars in DC which seemed to be marketed towards businessmen and the upper class society of DC. The bar remained the same though so many others seemed to change with the times and that's what many locals liked about it. The atmosphere was laid back, you could still get a beer for less than five dollars and there weren't any fancy fifteen dollar drinks to be found. And there weren't any fifty inch televisions showing sports. But therewas still an old jukebox in one corner of the dance floor and a makeshift stage for local unknown bands and impromptu jam sessions. For some it was just a hangout. A place to kill time. For others, a place to go and not feel alone. For Emma Swan, it was a stepping stone. A means to an end. Tonight she was there for one reason and that reason was currently on the dance floor getting more attention than she probably realized. But that attention was well deserved and Emma found herself thinking things she knew should be far from her mind.

"Hey." A pair of snapping fingers appeared in front of her face, bringing Emma back to the present. "Have you heard anything I've said?"

"Yeah. Sure." She mumbled, nursing her beer. Tearing her eyes away from the dance floor, Emma turned to look at the person sitting across the table from her.

"Whatever, Swan. You haven't heard a word I've said in the past ten minutes." The guy said, shaking his head. "I could've left and you wouldn't have even realized it."

"I'm sorry, Neal. What were you saying?"

Neal, Emma's best friend and partner stared at her in disbelief. "What's going on in that head of yours?"

"Yeah." She said absently, not even realizing her response was completely irrelevant as her eyes drifted back to the dance floor. Back to her. "I'll be back."

"What are you doin', Swan?" Neal yelled after her, but Emma ignored him.

She was on a mission. Neal hated when she got like this. When she did, there was no stopping her until she got what she wanted. He watched as she walked away, beer in hand, towards the dance floor. Towards the woman with the dark hair that fell just around her shoulders and looks that definitely drew attention. Emma wasn't too bad herself, but Neal never looked at her that way. To him she was just his best friend. One of the guys. To anyone else who saw her, she was tall and gorgeous, with a very well maintained physique.

Neal often joked that she must have been a street fighter in a past life. She had brilliant green eyes and a full head of wavy blonde hair that fell to the middle of her back. When they were younger, her hair had been much darker. But as they'd gotten older, her hair had lightened and her facial features had become much more chiseled and defined.

Emma could have been a Goddess and Neal would have never noticed. He hadn't thought about her that way since their senior year in High School when she'd confessed to him one day that she was pretty sure she liked girls, effectively crushing any schoolboy fantasies he might have had about her, despite their being best friends. When he had questioned the validity of her statement, she'd promptly shut him up with more details than he expected to hear of an encounter between herself and a girl she had messed around with the summer before.

"What are you saying, Em?" Neal just didn't get it. His best friend had to be joking. They'd known each other since grade school and never once had the thought occurred to him that his best friend might be gay. Emma stared at Neal blankly, waiting for him to catch up and for everything to sink in. The reality of the situation had left his teenage brows furrowed and a questioning look in his eyes. Finally he turned to her, prepared to speak again. "What do you mean when you say 'gay'?"

"You really are thick, aren't you!?" Emma said with a laugh. She'd given more thought than she cared to admit about this moment and the confession she had just made. But Neal was her best friend and she knew that he would never reject her. For any reason. And this reason would be no different. It was only the matter of actually saying it out loud and admitting it to herself. "Gay, Neal. Gay. I think- no, I know I like girls."

"Em, you're only seventeen. How could you know something like that? Are you sure?"

He turned to face the brick of the gymnasium wall, where they were standing behind the building. More times than either could remember, they had skipped gym to sit behind the building and kill time before they knew they would eventually have to get back to their day. Both of them were athletic enough and enjoyed sports and the other usual extra-curricular activities, but there was something about the idea of forced physical education that neither of them particularly enjoyed. Neal propped against the wall with one hand, the other in his front pocket. He watched as Emma shook her head and proceeded to sit down and lean back against the building. Neal followed suit and both of them remained silent for some time.

"I don't know how else to explain it." Emma finally broke the silence.

"Well I mean, I know you've never dated anyone. But I just figured it was because you weren't interested yet." Neal found himself digging for excuses. "Or maybe even because we've always hung out together and you just never made time for it."

"Neal, you've had plenty of girlfriends." Emma laughed softly and gave his leg a friendly punch. "I've just never been interested in guys and now I know why."

"How can you be sure if you've never went out with anyone?" Neal said, exasperated. He wasn't uncomfortable with the idea. He was just confused. How could Emma be his best friend for so long, without him noticing something? His hesitation to really grasp the idea of his best friend being gay, he realized, had more to do with how blind he'd been than whether or not it was true. "Pick someone… Anyone. And I'll get you a date. That way you'll know for sure."

Emma laughed again. But this time it was much heartier than the moment before.

"Why are you laughin' at me?" Neal asked, even though he knew that he was about to start laughing right along with her. The entire situation being so surreal to him that he figured laughing was the best way to get past it.

"Look, we're best friends Neal." Emma paused as she caught her breath and turned to him with a serious look. "And I know we tell each other a lot of things. And sometimes you give me more details than I need. But I really didn't want to have to tell you-"

"You didn't want to tell me? Why?" Suddenly Neal's voice took on a hurt tone as he interrupted.

"Shut up and let me finish!" Emma bumped his shoulder with hers. "I was just hoping I wouldn't have to draw you a crayon portrait of what happened last year."

"Last year!?"

"The end of the last school year. At the beginning of summer break." Emma clarified. "Do you remember that first day we went to that pool party and there was a girl there from that other school? Kate."

"There were a lot of girls there that day, Em. I'm a seventeen year old guy. How do you expect me to remember one girl?"

"She was the one with the long blonde hair, wearing the neon yellow bikini." Emma supplied and the look on her best friends face told her that it was coming back to him. "Remember? She was the one that kept sitting at the edge of the pool and refused to get in because she didn't want to mess up her hair!"

"Ohhh yeah! That girl!" Neal laughed. "Yeah, she was hot." He paused, the smile leaving his face. "Wait… What about her?"

Emma smiled to herself, remembering.

"I saw you talking to her. But I figured you were exchanging make-up tips or something equally girly." Neal was still confused. His best friend had never been girly and he knew it, so he wasn't quite sure why he kept making up excuses.

"What have you done with my best friend?" Emma waved her hand in front of his face. "I have never been girly and I've never worn make up. I was flirting with her."

"What do you mean 'flirting' with her? How do you 'flirt' with another girl?"

"Well I didn't use one of your cheesy-ass pick-up lines, that's for damn sure!"

"Hey, I don't have any cheesy pick-up lines." Neal huffed, acting offended. "My pick-up lines are great."

"Yeah. Anyway." Emma continued. "I mean, I didn't realize that I was doing it then. I was just making conversation with her. But apparently I was laying it on thick and one thing led to another and we ended up making plans to go see a movie."

"Oh, I remember. It was like the first time you went to the movies without me!" Neal said in a pointed tone. "So you went to the movies. It's not like hanging out constitutes as a date, Em. People go to the movies together all the time and it's definitely not a date unless the guy pays for all-"

"We fooled around Neal!" Emma blurted out, tired of skirting around the issue. Her confession shut him up, though his mouth remained open. "And I don't mean at the movie theater, either! And I didn't realize it at the time, but I paid for everything. Our food before. Our tickets. Our drinks. I just thought I was being nice. I didn't realize what it was leading up to."

"Oh."

"We were really hitting it off so she asked if I wanted to come over to her house, because she lives just a couple blocks from the theater." Emma continued. "And there we were, hanging out in her room and one thing led to another."

"How does this 'one thing leads to another' thing work, exactly?" Neal asked. "For two girls, I mean."

Emma sighed loudly and threw her head back. She knew Neal wasn't being a typical guy and fishing for details. But he was genuinely interested in what Emma was going through, so she answered. "Neal. It's the same as when it's a guy and a girl. Only, we were play-fighting. She hit me with a pillow for teasing her about something and when I went back at her, we fell off of her bed and I landed on top of her. There was like this weird moment between us and then we kissed. And some other stuff."

"Well." Neal nodded. "Okay then." He paused. "So did you get in her pants?"

Emma's eyes grew round and when she turned to look at Neal in disbelief, the huge smile on his face and the laugh he was biting back made her slug him in the arm as hard as she could.

"Shit, Swan!" Neal laughed, grabbing his arm. "Why'd you do that!?"