Just a car crash away

The night was dark and Emma was struggling to see anything in the thin beam of her bug's headlights, as they barely illuminated the fog swathed road ahead of her. She scanned the edges of the road as she drove, searching for any signs of Mary-Margaret, only managing to see the darkened trees, fog, rain and asphalt around her. She knew that she had to find her friend, and soon, if she stood any chance of getting her back to the station before Regina, or someone else, discovered her escape. She didn't think that Mary-Margaret could have gotten very far, and couldn't imagine where she would be running to - from what she had heard from Henry and the school-teacher herself, she had never even left Storybrooke.

Emma shook her head to refocus herself and looked back to the road. Suddenly she saw that there was a figure on the fringe of the road ahead of her, she swore loudly and swerved, just missing clipping the man as she slammed on the brakes, screeching to a sliding halt on the edge of the road. Emma unbuckled her seat-belt and leapt from the car, running to the edge of the road where she had seen the man roll down the steep slope. To her relief, the man was already clambering back up the incline and appeared to be uninjured, just dusty, and somewhat battered from his fall.

The Sheriff ran forward to help him up the last part of the incline and back onto the road. The man was tall, dressed in a long dark coat and scarf, and was undeniably handsome – despite the obvious look of a man who knew it – his dark hair was slicked back, and he had a rather cocky air to the way he held himself. Though there was a dark, slightly haunted look deep behind his piercing cobalt blue eyes. It was the same sort of look that Emma recognised time and time again – the look of someone who had lost much; of someone who had experienced pain and removed themselves from others because of it. Growing up in the foster system and being bounced from one lonely, childless couple to the next, she had grown accustomed to recognising the look of loss. Emma was taken aback by the familiarity of the aura she felt emanating from this man, but was quick to offer her apologies for nearly running the man down due to her own distraction.

"I'm so sorry! Are you okay? I didn't see you there..." Emma stared at his face anxiously, searching for any signs that he might be injured in a way that she had not yet noticed.

"I-I think so..." the man stammered, looking slightly shell shocked.

"Are you sure?" Emma probed further, unconvinced by the man's brush-off remark.

"I'm fine. I'm just not used to sharing the road with cars so late." He looked at her sideways, with a slight smile pulling at the edge of his lips. There was now a slightly off look that unnerved Emma in a way she couldn't quite describe. "You're the Sherriff aren't you?"

"Yeah..." Emma nodded, still somewhat unused to the title, and also the feeling of everyone seeming to know who she was – just one of the quirks of living in a small town she guessed, although she couldn't remember ever seeing this man before; he was quite a smart dresser, what with the dress coat and polished shoes, plus he had a rather memorable face. She was pretty sure that she would have remembered meeting such a distinguishable man as this.

"What brings you out here in the middle of the night?" the man asked, eyes flickering around their surroundings – probably looking for any other potential threats.

"Oh, nothing to worry about, I'm just looking for a... lost dog." Emma hurriedly improvised, not wanting to admit the escape of someone who was officially a murder suspect. Even if this man might have actually seen Mary-Margaret or something that could help to find her – it was difficult to know who to trust in this town, what with Regina seemingly having eyes and ears everywhere. The man's lips twitched slightly at that, and something in Emma recoiled at the movement, she put it off as the man simply finding it funny that she had nearly run him over while searching for a lost dog.

"Well, I hope you find it." He smiled at her and began to walk away, limping rather heavily on his right leg.

"Oh you are hurt!" Emma moved after him, concerned, despite the fact that this man was a stranger, she didn't want to leave him alone, and injured, in the middle of the woods, at night – especially with what she'd experienced already in her short time in Storybrooke, this town seemed to attract more trouble than any other she'd ever been to, despite its size and seemingly charming exterior.

"No, I just twisted my ankle, I think. I live just a mile down the road, I'll make it okay."

"No, let me drive you. I insist." Though Emma knew she was on a timer to find Mary Margaret before anyone found out she was gone, she felt obligated to help this man that she could have easily killed.

The man flashed a grateful smile at her that was laced with something akin to relief, his eyes seeming to lighten to a china blue shade. "Thank you." He paused for a moment before continuing "I'm Jefferson." He offered her a gloved hand, which she took, shaking it and then offering him an awkward smile in return.

"Emma."

They both got into Emma's yellow bug and she started it up before continuing back along the road, still keeping an eye on the trees at the edge of the highway, just in case. The ride was uneventful until Jefferson pointed to the turning to his house; she turned up into a long driveway that led up to a large, rather Gothic, yet still beautiful mansion. The size and grandeur of the place astounded her, as she hadn't seen a place quite like it before – even the mayor's house didn't have quite the same regal quality that this house did. The rest of the houses on this street were much duller and normal in appearance, shying away from Jefferson's house, the trees surrounding it in an isolating manner.

As they got out of the car she couldn't contain her astonishment "Wow, this is your house? It looks more like a hotel! You must have a huge family." The last part slipped out of her mouth before she could stop it, she supposed it was a somewhat bitter assumption left over from the lost little girl who wished for all of what this man appeared to have.

Jefferson looked down embarrassedly, the cocky air seeming to slip away from his posture, before he admitted quietly "Nope. It's just me." And there it was again, that surge of the feeling that this man had lost just as much as she had, if not more, she felt the need to apologise before she noticed Jefferson's limping attempt to start up the steps to his home.

"Here. Wait." Emma went to turn off the ignition of her car, leaving the keys in the car, and then went to help Jefferson ascend the steps to the house, at which he smiled gratefully. Once they were inside, Jefferson led her up another short flight of steps and into a quirkily furnished sitting room; he left with a mumbling about drinks.

Emma leant up against the wall, resting her head on the wall above the fireplace, mostly ignoring her well-decorated surroundings until Jefferson returned to the room, still limping, but now carrying a teapot and two cups on a tray, which he then placed down upon the coffee table.

"Here we go. Thought you might want to warm up for your search. It's cold out there." He said, pouring the tea into both cups.

"That's kind of you, but I think I should get back to it." She replied as he offered her a cup of tea, though it did smell good – like nuts and cinnamon - she knew she was on the clock, and shouldn't waste anymore time here than she already had.

"I know." Jefferson said, handing her the cup, which she took more out of reflex than anything. "That's why I brought this." He unrolled a map onto the surface of the grand piano as Emma took an absentminded sip of the tea, it was as good as it smelled and had distinctly herbal taste to it; she approached the table to view the map and stood beside Jefferson.

"I'm a bit of an amateur cartographer; mapping the area is a hobby. Maybe this will help you track down your dog."

Emma nodded absently, still sipping her tea, though the room was beginning to feel a little too warm around her, must be due to the fire roaring in the hearth. "Wow." She muttered; examining the highly detailed, hand drawn map laid out in front of her.

Emma became aware of Jefferson standing close to her as he asked "What's his name?"

It took Emma a moment to realize he was referring to the non-existent dog and she blurted the first dog's name that came to her mind "Spot."

Jefferson smiled tightly, slightly patronisingly at her, his eyes seeming to darken in the orange firelight. "Cute."

The Sheriff glanced at him briefly, slightly uneasy before returning her attention to the map, maybe it was lucky that she had nearly run over an amateur cartographer after all.

"Well, route 6 runs the boundary of the forest, so..." she took another sip of her tea, trying to abate the growing feeling of heat and nausea that was rising in her. "So if I just follow that I should...be able to..." The feeling of nausea was now followed by an overwhelming wave of dizziness and she faltered, leaning hard on the piano as the empty cup loosened in her fingers.

"Something wrong?"

Jefferson's voice came from a seemingly long way away, though she could feel him still standing close to her, the teacup clattered against the piano's surface in her hands as she muttered "I'm just feeling a little... dizzy"

"Oh. Let me help you." Emma felt Jefferson's hands around her waist as she collapsed backwards, her legs feeling like jelly. "Let's just lie you down here." He half-dragged her across the carpet and gently laid her down on the couch, she sunk into the cushions, her head and body feeling like they were filled with sand.

"There you go. Let me get you some air." He said as he strode back across the room, with not even the slightest trace of a limp in his step now. Despite her foggy brain, alarm bells rung loudly in head as she tried to push herself up, she had to leave – there was clearly something wrong going on here. Her eyes zeroed in on Jefferson's un-drunk cup of tea still sitting on the tea-tray – he must have put something into her drink, the pieces clicking together in her mind as she realized he had been faking the limp this whole time.

"Your limp..."

"Oh. That." Jefferson turned back to her, smirking from ear to ear, even as Emma's vision dimmed "Guess you caught me."

The teacup fell from her numb fingers and her vision began to black out as she whispered "Who are you?" The last thing she knew before the darkness claimed her entirely was the soothing hushes of Jefferson as he stroked her hair away from her face

"Hush... just sleep my dear."

Chapters 1 and 2 are mostly going to be establishing the canon episode details, but with interweaving bits of the future plot - I plan for this to be quite a long fic. I feel like there aren't enough good Mad Hatter Fanfictions out there - especially MadSwan ones. Please R&R - feedback is craved.