I Own This Town, Chapter 2- Getting To Know You.

Disclaimers: Oops, forgot to add this. I obviously don't own this, it is the property of the American Broadcasting Company and its subsidiaries. Cause if I did own it? HELLO. Swan Queen = Canon.


Since Emma's hire and arrival in the quaint little Maine town of Storybrooke, she had been met with almost embarrassingly open arms. Her urban legend grew in the sleepy tourist town, arising from her origins of regional war hero turned New Hampshire State Police officer to her current position as head of Storybrooke's only law enforcement office.

She practically had the job the second she applied.

Her reputation preceeded her. Emma had been dubbed by the press as Sargent "Savior" Swan, the name her troopies had inexplicably called her, for unknown reasons. She was famous from her time serving in a Marine ground infantry unit, one of the first females to do so, at the time, and the first in a hazardous duty zone. The press followed her exploits closely, as closely as the Military Press Office would let them, anyway. She was a journalists dream; photogenic and always ready with a good quip. The Navy higher ups loved it, and positioned her thusly, for several reasons. First and foremost, Swan was a "good kid." She kept her nose clean, wasn't fucking around indiscriminately, and could actually do the job. She had even managed to get a college degree during her first enlistment, in between deployments. However, it was far more likely the latter reason, as to why the press was given access, which was an undeniable fact: Emma Swan was easy on the eyes.

She made everyone look good, as a result.

As the ground conflict continued, It became evident to the public that her fellow solders loved her, respected her, and the press would later report that three of them owed their lives to her. She had always had the nickname "Savior," in her unit; no one really asked where it came from.

So it was to much consternation that she opted not to "re-up," instead joining her home state's Police Department in New Hampshire, after receiving her honorable discharge and never once looked back.

Again, she excelled, but after her commitment period ended, Emma Swan had the ability to keep observers guessing. She responded to a direct solicitation for her services, and applied to be the Sheriff of the obscenely tiny coastal town of Storybrooke, Maine. A town so small it could barely be found on Google Maps.

Emma loved to keep 'em guessing. Her career decisions made perfect sense to her. However, for someone else to understand them, one would have to understand the complicated and often tragic story of who Emma Swan had been to appreciate the logic of her decisions.

It would be very unlikely that anyone would ever glean that insight. Those files had been sealed, and before Emma left the NH law enforcement offices, she made sure those files ...disappeared. Disappeared, just like the laughing blonde herself, as she exited the New Hampshire state border; driving at least 25 miles over the speed limit, and thinking how much she hated New Hampshire's speed trap 55 mph posted on the line.


She sensed her, even before she physically saw her.

When she physically arrived into Emma's sight line, and the Sheriff saw Mayor Regina Mills, she let a low whistle of approval escape her lips.

If Sheriff Emma Swan had a type, a big neon arrow would be flashing above the sultry brunette's head, heels clicking, as she sashayed towards her desk, saying "This." Emma had always had a thing for ridiculously attractive brunettes, ones that simmered with danger, underneath.

Always.

It did not change the fact, however, that the woman bugged the ever living fuck out of the Sheriff.

What's more, Mayor Mills knew it, and relished that fact. Why she would want to antagonize a leader so vital to the successful day to day operation of her town, was beyond Emma; but she had seen this kind of workplace crap, all her life.

"Hello, Mayor." Emma sighed. "To what do I owe your happy visit?"

The brunette smirked, stopping several feet away from Emma, and quickly surveying her desk and office. "Now, now, Sheriff Swan!" She smiled, her lips covered in their perfect application of deep red lipstick, and said in a layered voice, "one might think you're less than... happy , to see me…!"

Emma leaned back in her chair, and put her hands behind her head. She took the woman in, the one standing before her, for a good thirty seconds, before speaking.

"Well…." Emma mused, after her reflection.

Mayor Mills smirked.

"…it's like this, see. I will never complain about entertaining hot ladies, especially ones in pencil skirts and fuck-me heels. It bears mentioning, of course, you have met that criteria…"

Emma amused herself with the shocked look, that suddenly appeared on the Mayor's face.

The sheriff continued. "…but, in my experience, your visits have decidedly not enough…reward, for lack of a better term, to make them enjoyable."

Emma leaned forward, looking the mayor directly in the face. "In fact, your visits usually result in some inane, made-up fucking bullshit, that you force our department to do. Subsequently, this results in the following: my staff falls into in a foul mood for the rest of the day, a fuckload of paperwork and other bullshit for me has to get done, and my deputy and I, almost universally, end up having to leave early, forced to drink, and inevitably swearing women off, altogether in a drunken stupor. "

Regina looked at her, flabbergasted.

Emma smiled, having achieved the desired effect she was going for.

"So, if you're asking me, am I happy you're here? I would say yes, because against my better instincts, I do enjoy seeing you. But…no, is also the answer. No, because you will inevitably open your mouth, and the spell will be broken. Then, I will say, 'Oh, fuck' because I will be reminded you aren't some ridiculously hot woman, here to take me to lunch. Instead, you are that evil woman that makes me and my staff unnecessarily grouchy, all day."

"Sheriff Swan…." The Mayor began, obviously collecting her thoughts. "You…"

Emma grinned, and leaned forward, resting on her elbows, on her desk. "Yes?"

"You….your... utter lack of professionalism, and your lack of any type of personal filter... frankly astounds me." The mayor said.

"Thank you." Emma grinned.

The infuriated Mayor then dropped the armful of papers she had been carrying in to Emma's office. They were the end of fiscal year budgets files, decidedly large and ornery, and the Mayor had slammed them, angrily, on the top of Emma's desk. "And these were due, today, by the way."

Emma gestured towards the Mayor. "See? You make my point."

The mayor looked incredulous. "And I'm supposed to ignore the fact you haven't turned in the reports...is that what you propose?"

Emma shrugged, watching her shrug enrage the Mayor further. Emma thought gleefully about repeating it, for effect. The standing woman put her hand on her hip, the one adorned by a tailored Armani suit with pencil skirt. The Sheriff smiled to herself. Emma loved that outfit on Regina; you could not have fit it better, if you had painted it on…

"Sheriff Swan!"

The mayors' loud interruption broke her from her daydream. "What?" She answered, annoyed.

"What do you mean, what? What do you recommend I do, with these budgets that I have not seen come across my desk?"

Emma stood up, walking towards her red leather coat, brushing shoulders with the Mayor as she did. As she put on her jacket, the one she knew the Mayor detested, she answered.

"Well, Madame Mayor, I would recommend two things. First," Emma held up a finger, indicating the number one. "I would get my head out of my ass, and boot up my computer once in awhile."

"What?" They mayor asked, confused.

"Yes! I sent them to you, as a digitized file, through the encrypted town email, two days ago." Emma reached over, grabbing her clutch out of the desk, and pulling her Baretta 9 Mil out, turning on the safety, and putting it in her chest-holster, under her jacket.

"I…I didn't see them. No-one has ever…"

"Digitized the budget? No shit, Madame Mayor! It was a bitch for me to set up, trust me! But, should make it much easier to amortize payments in future fiscal years, being able to cull the data, going forward. Shoulda been done, years ago." Emma said, smugly, as she walked towards the door. She turned, facing the mayor, and raised a second finger. "And, number two…"

"Number two?" The mayor asked briskly. She was silently contemplating how to save face, until she actually checked the little used government email server to confirm Emma wasn't lying and had actually sent the budgets.

"Yes, number two. The second thing, to finish your earlier line of questioning, Madame mayor, is this: you turn your fine ass around, walk out of my office, and get in your Mercedes, in which you will drive us to someplace very expensive to eat lunch, because you're buying. So, my recommendation for the second thing I think you should do is…make sure you have your credit card, with you, because I'm hungry."

Emma held the door open, expectantly.

She gave the dumbstruck mayor a look. "Well? Are you coming? My arm is getting' stiff, here."

Regina Mills shook her head, and walked out the Sheriff's office, a displeased scowl on her face, and a very satisfied looking blonde, following her, close behind.

To Be Continued...