Author's Notes:
There are some original characters in this chapter as we enter Storybrooke. There is a reason for this. I repeat- there is a reason why Granny's in not run by Granny. There was not a curse and thus our favorite fairy tale characters never came to Storybrooke. But that doesn't mean they don't have a connection to it..and why a certain Sheriff and his Deputy are the only familiar faces.
In less than two days' time, Lacey found herself standing at the Storybrooke bus stop, an idling bus door sliding shut behind her with a hiss. The bus creaked and groaned as it pulled away, back down the road, heading towards civilization and abandoning her in Small Town, USA.
She tore her eyes from the departing bus, biting the inside of her cheek hard enough to draw blood before she finally tore her gaze away to look around.
Old wooden buildings were nestled in with newer bricks buildings, pastel whites and creams, greens and yellows covered the storefronts with various mom and pop shops mixed with what appeared to be a post office and the occasional other government building. Hand painted signs, curtained windows and old blue mailboxes completed the picture.
It was simple, a few stores with their doors propped open to invite stragglers inside, the occasional car driving slowly down the street. The fall colors had already begun to fall off the trees, but all were carefully swept in piles off the sidewalk.
It was quaint, endearing and wholly unbearable.
Lacey closed her eyes and counted to five, reminding herself it was only for two months- when a large ringing reverberated down the street.
Opening her eyes, Lacey turned towards the noise, registering a large building, just visible over the top of the bus station gazebo where she was standing. A clock tower was nestled in its heights, its face glowing slightly in the morning sun. It was announcing noon, the chimes slowly fading out of the air as it finished its solemn duty.
As if to echo the clock, her stomach rumbled noisily, reminding her she hadn't eaten much since her lunch with Greg. She glanced around to see if there was a place she could sit down, maybe grab a bite to eat.
As it happened, across the street, a small local diner seemed to be already bustling for lunch. Lacey headed towards the light gray old house, going up the low porch steps before swinging open the glass door to enter.
It was one large room with a white lunch counter where a few people were sitting and talking animatedly with the chef while a few others read their newspapers quietly, chewing on a fry in afterthought.
A sign over the kitchen window read 'Welcome to Granny's' with fanciful lettering complete with woodsy printed wallpaper, hand drawn evergreens and oaks stenciled on the cream paper. Seating was readily available despite the crowd with the 50's vinyl booths along the wall with checkered tablecloths and metal aluminum tables on the floor with vinyl padded matching chairs skidding across the checkered tile floor.
Cute as Granny's was, it didn't take long for Lacey to discover the little town wasn't nearly as welcoming as she had at first anticipated it might be.
Upon her arrival, the closest server had pointed her hesitatingly over to a booth in the corner, a few diners turning around in their seats to watch her as she walked past. She avoided eye contact, keeping her eyes fixed on the menu, fighting off the itch to look up and glare at the gapers.
When her waitress finally come over, she stared openly at the suitcase before starting, "Welcome to Granny's, my name is Paige and I'll be serving you today- what can I get ya?"
"Actually, some coffee if you have it," Lacey said, rubbing her temple with her fingers. "Just got in town and I'm half asleep."
"Heading up to Canada?" Paige asked, flicking her eyes back to the suitcase. "We get a lot of people who like to take the scenic route."
"Stopping here actually," Lacey corrected, watching as Paige's eyes slide back to hers in curiosity before she averted them. "You wouldn't happen to know where I might find a realtor or someone, would you?"
"Small town like this," her waitress responded, cracking her gum as she aggressively started to tap her pen against her pad. "Don't have a lot of need for realtors - word of mouth usually serves us fine. Now, did you want to order something for lunch or-?"
Tampering down her rising annoyance, Lacey glanced down at the menu to buy herself a minute. Paige huffed, "Okay, let me get your coffee, I'll be right back."
Before Lacey could stop her, Paige had hustled off towards the bar area, a few customers glancing back at Lacey before leaning forward to Paige, talking in low voices obviously about her. She could see Paige bent down in conversation, her promise of coffee ignored in the face of all the undivided attention.
Lacey used the time to watch out the window beside her. People were walking about, a few running errands with bags at their sides but others just strolled, waving to each other from across the street, stopping and talking to each other. It seemed everyone more or less knew each other.
It was a very friendly town, she noted, knowing her usual city slicker persona would stick out like a sore thumb here. Glancing back around the diner, she watched as a few people left, waving goodbye to the rest of the lunch crowd and greeting those arriving. Lacey toyed with the silverware, worrying her lip in thought.
By the time, Paige came back, her stomach was loudly protesting. Smiling up at Paige the best she could through her foggy exhaustion, Lacey sweetened her tone before proceeding, "Sorry about earlier, I didn't mean to offend, I just, well I guess, -" Pausing, Lacey glanced down at her hands, before continuing in a low voice,"Could I just get the lunch special please?"
"Sure thing, hon," Paige replied, thawing slightly. She hurried away, but this time she went straight to the counter to put the order in, dropping off a few packets of creamer for the coffee moments later.
Lacey sat sipping her coffee and watching as the diner picked up swiftly, a few families coming in and a few blue collar guys taking over the lunch counter, all shouting their hellos and fighting about what to put on the lone TV perched in the corner. Paige dropped off the turkey club sandwich special before hurrying off to her other tables and Lacey sat forgotten, watching and occasionally toying with her phone, looking up the weather back home and desperately wishing she could check her now inactive e-mail.
So, it surprised Lacey when Paige came back, dropping off a small brochure on the table.
"You could always try the Inn," the waitress suggested, scooping up the empty plate as she dropped the bill off. "Eddie over there," she gestured towards a man who was sitting at the counter. "He works up there, probably could give you a ride so you don't have to hoof it."
As the waitress hurried away with her card, Lacey picked up the brochure. It was thin, a single one sided slip of paper that had a picture of two dark russet doors, cracked open to reveal a large chestnut staircase, sweeping upwards and out of the focus of the photo. The words "Storybrooke Inn" were stamped on the bottom of the paper in elegant calligraphy with a telephone number below it in block letters. Lacey flipped it over to see the backside was cream paper, noticing there was no address.
Luckily, Eddie, a middle aged balding man with a baseball cap pulled low over his protruding ears had been heading back up to the Inn after lunch. He agreed to give her a lift. He seemed incredibly shy, looking fixedly at his shoes the whole time, the tips of his ears turning red as they stuck out from under his cap.
Thanking Paige for the help, Lacey hurried back out into the sun, fumbling with her suitcase on the sidewalk cracks. Eddie was parked right out front, an old red ford pickup with Storybrooke Inn painted n fading green letters along the side. Eddie took the suitcase from her, tossing it in the back before swinging the passenger door open for her.
Fed and slightly warmed, Lacey felt much more herself as they headed up towards the coast where the Storybrooke Inn stood high on a cliff overlooking the otherwise flat city of Storybrooke. The town itself was laid out in a curved semi-circle, Main Street curving in an open parenthesis shape. The town surrounded the coast bay with woods flanking it on other sides, a nest of tranquility in between two forces of nature.
During the drive, Eddie pointed out a few landmarks, old buildings and the road to the docks but kept his eyes on the road the whole trip, stammering awkwardly whenever his eyes accidently met hers. Lacey took note of the bustling dock and the small stores that lined the streets, not recognizing any chain names.
Nearing the Inn's drive, she realized they had been going fairly uphill for the last few blocks, already over the valley where the diner had been.
As they drove through the large gated entrance of the Inn's drive, Lacey noticed the old antique iron wrought detailing around the opening. She turned in her seat to get a better look as they drove through, noticing the fence itself wrapped as far as she could see around the property itself. It appeared to switch from iron to solid brick before it disappeared along the hill crest leading towards the woods. The opposing side drifted towards the cliffs of the beach, waves roaring faintly over the wind.
She was surprised to find the Inn itself was a mammoth old manor with cobbled stones and dark accents with turrets and curved stone walls spreading out on the lawn and overlooking the city like a feudal castle of old. It reached up at least five stories tall, blockish with shorter wings on either side of it. It would have looked at home anywhere in England but it's color scheme and odd distorted shape lent itself to the land in a way that made it look like it had been built over the years to fit the ever-changing landscape of the seacoast.
"It's beautiful," she marveled, watching as the sunlight winked off the various windows of the top floors. "How old is it?"
"About a hundred years," Eddie answered, smiling slightly to himself at her genuine interest. "Old harbor town like this had to have a nice place for folks to gather."
"Do you all still get a lot of tourists?" She asked, turning to look at him. He had shaken his head fitfully at the attention, twitching his nose in embarrassment.
"That's a shame," Lacey murmured, craning her head as they pulled up to the front of the Inn. How do they afford to upkeep this place? She mused, noticing all the ground floor windows were sparkling clean, a few open to let in the fall sea breeze. Must cost a fortune.
Getting out of the truck, she made sure to thank Eddie, who nodded shyly, ducking his head down in his collared shirt before he had pointed her up the main stairs, handing her the suitcase from the bed of the truck.
As he got back in the driver's seat to move the truck, a woman opened the door, watching as Lacey started to struggle up the polished stone stairs with her suitcase. The woman watched Eddie drive around the building before she looked back down at Lacey, eyeing her suitcase with interest.
"Checking in?" The woman inquired. Lacey managed to bite back the scathing reply that rose to mind, instead smiling as best she could as she had dragged her suitcase up another step.
"New to town," she chirped; wincing as her curls flew into her face from the high winds off the coast, clawing them out of her eyes the best she could without tipping backwards down the stairs. "Someone told me you might have some vacancies?"
"Oh, dear," the woman sighed, pulling the door open wider to let her in. "You really aren't from around here, are you?"
"Just off the bus," Lacey replied, wheezing slightly as she finally topped the large stairs. "Eddie was kind enough to give me a lift from Granny's."
"Well, best come on in," the woman advised, shooing her in before walking in behind her. "What did you say your name was?"
Lacey turned from taking in the large entry way, double stairs curling upwards to the second floor landing, hunter green striped wallpaper faded from the years but still pressed neatly o the wall, an old heater humming merrily in the bowels of the building. "It's Belle, Belle Ives," she said, holding out her hand.
"Alice Aiken," her host supplied, gripping her hand for a moment before dropping it and continuing past the staircase to a small room off the main hall. "How many nights will you be staying with us, Ms. Ives?"
"Not sure, actually," Lacey answered honestly, putting down her suitcase. "I'm new to town so-"
Alice looked up at that, a look of hesitation flittering across the previously unreadable face. "Do you plan on staying in Storybrooke?"
"Fresh start," Lacey had murmured, glancing around at the old room with its dark colors and bookshelves. "Picked a direction and just rode the bus until I felt like stopping."
Alice looked back down at her computer, clicking a few things as she silently digested the information. Lacey busied herself looking around the room which appeared to be an old study, wood paneling along the windows was worn with time and sun but were carefully dusted and polished. A few newer pieces were scattered around the room including a Wi-Fi modem and router ducked on a nearby desk.
"It seems nice here," she continued through Alice's silence. "And I just really need a place to stop and catch my breath for a bit." Lacey paused, watching Alice out of the corner of her eye.
"Well then, you should probably head down to the Sheriff's office," Alice finally replied. "People usually post the odd housing notice or job opening down on the town bulletin board there. Sheriff Graham or Deputy Swann should be able to help. Eddie can take you down there on his way home this afternoon and one of the sheriffs can drop you bring you back up here on their rounds."
"I don't want to be any trouble-," Lacey started quietly but Alice cut her off with a shake of her head.
"Won't be a problem," she said. "Not a lot around here for those two to do, least they can do is give a girl a lift. Now, as you happen to be our only current guest, you have your pick of a view. Ocean or wood?"
Choosing a woods view, the fall foliage still beautiful despite the dropping temperatures, Lacey followed Alice up the stairs towards her room. "Is this your down season?" Belle asked, trailing her fingers along the balustrade.
"Our only real busy time is wedding season during the spring and our annual Gala, which is actually coming up in December."
"A Gala?" Lacey repeated, pausing to glance at an old gilded mirror which reflected her wind tossed hair and chapped lips back at her. The pale girl before her looked pathetic- red rimmed eyes from exhaustion and tense shoulders hunched forward. Lacey ignored her injured vanity, knowing her ragged appearance had probably helped more than hurt her today.
As Alice walked her to her room, she continued to explain that every year the town got together at the Inn, an old tradition from the town's first days as a trade outpost.
"Everyone comes- from the newborns to the elderly- celebrating fall's end with a huge dinner and a night of dancing before everyone goes upstairs to their room to sleep it off. It started as the harvest feast but over time, it just slowly transformed to a Christmas celebration, the town's way of bringing the community together out of the darkness."
"Sounds wonderful," Lacey quipped, trying to picture the population of a whole town under one roof.
"And we have the usual meetings and club gatherings in our ball rooms downstairs, we really only keep the second floor open for guests year long, all the other floors are closed off typically."
"Is the Inn on any historical marker list?" Lacey had asked, eyeing the old wood paneling of the individual doors.
"Sure is, but its' mostly just a local treasure and we honestly prefer it that way. Now, your room is just down this hall," Alice had replied, effectively ending the conversation.
Later that afternoon, Eddie drove her back down to town, dropping her off at a small building, tucked slightly off Main Street across the way from what appeared to be a coffee shop, Chip's Cup.
After a few moments of internally prepping herself, mostly just finalizing her backstory- new to town, bad break up, looking for a fresh start, Lacey gathered the character of Belle Ives around her like armor before striding forward to push the door open.
She stepped into the entryway, bell jangling merrily overhead and directly into unmitigated chaos.
A tall, lanky man who appeared to be the sheriff and a woman who appeared to be his deputy had both been standing at their respective desks. There was phones ringing, one on top of the other with loose paper scattered over every surface imaginable including the floor. A bullet ridden file cabinet was propping a jail cell door open, the cell's blankets were draped like a tent from the hanging water pipe overhead and a Dalmatian sat panting happily in the corner, his red collar askew.
Lacey's eyes wandered over the confused mess as she stood awkwardly in the doorway. The two harried sheriffs remained unaware of their new arrival, both too busy on the phone, wearily explaining in monotonous tones "The reason the main traffic light hadn't been fixed yet" and "No- the city isn't responsible for damages in the interim-"
Lacey was momentarily taken aback, glancing between the two young officers, both oblivious to her entrance and continuing to answer their respective phones, shoulders hunched in weary resignation. For a brief moment, Lacey considered leaving, overwhelmed with the sheer ludicrousness of the scene before her.
She resisted the urge to flee, finally managing to catch the Sheriff's attention by toying noisily with the zipper of her jacket. He looked up, rubbed the scruff on his face absently as he tried to place her before nodding in polite but tentative greeting. He motioned to a chair nearby just as another phone at the empty desk jingled to life.
That's when Lacey did something that surprised them all.
Stepping to the loudly ringing telephone, she picked it up with a sweet, "Sheriff's Office, this is Belle, how can I help you?" and managed to get the name, number and complaint of the townsperson, promised to have someone call them back by the end of business day and hang up without issue.
She was unofficially hired within an hour and by the second week, Sheriff Graham Hunt had agreed to a full time job with benefits. Her new position at the station gave her unrestricted access to old police files and potential leads. She couldn't have done better if she had actually tried.
However, working closely with law enforcement professionals while undercover proved to be more challenging than she anticipated.
Graham had been a simple nut to crack: hardworking, young with a lot to prove and a deep dedication to his hometown and community. He was welcoming and warm but deeply private about his own personal life; his only noticeable in professionalism was his obvious interest in his deputy sheriff.
The woman in question, Emma Swann, was an entirely different puzzle. A loner by nature, Emma was polite but curt with most people. She had an unusual manner that made Lacey feel uncomfortable without really knowing why. For the first few days, Lacey had avoided her as much as possible.
Unfortunately, Emma seemed unusually bothered by Belle, often asking pointed questions about her past and her family while avoiding any personal questions Lacey asked in return. Emma's constant attention hindered Lacey's initial attempts to glance through any old files. For a while, it looked like her luck at getting a job at the Sheriff's office was going to prove worthless.
As it happened, two weeks after her arrival, the seniors over at the school played their annual senior's prank during exams which involved fireworks, helium filled blow up dolls and a very angry goat in the air vents.
Before Graham returned from his early morning fishing trip, Lacey managed to help Emma safely put out the fires, wrangle all the floating sex toys from the gymnasium rafters, as well as return the goat to his home before he was missed.
Somewhere during the goat's near successful attempt to break down the patrol car's back window with his rear hooves, she and Emma became friends.
Over the weeks working with Emma and Graham, her constant searching through outdates and misfiled old cases kept her busy, writing notes on scraps of papers and snapping photos with cell phone camera. The real challenge was keeping the sweet natured Belle in character instead of reverting back to her usual skeptical and sharp tongued persona.
Which some days was harder than others.
One early December morning as she was trudging towards the sheriff's office for the day shift, the next large gust of wind surprised her and nearly knocked her sideways. She instinctively cursed, grabbing at a nearby street lamp as her feet started to slip out from under her on the ice.
"Language, Belle!" snorted a voice from behind her. She turned her head back to see Emma, holding two cups of coffee, heading back towards the Sheriff's office from Chip's Cup. "You kiss your mother with that mouth?"
"I'm sorry, I must have just panicked," Lacey confessed, trying to brush off her slip as she tentatively released the lamp pole.
"You know, I don't think I ever heard you swear before," Emma said as she approached. "Must be hanging around me too much. What's with all the padding?"
"It's cold out here! What are you, crazy?" Lacey shivered, gesturing towards Emma's only layer, her signature red leather jacket. "You don't even have any gloves on!"
"I was going ten feet across the street, you wimp," Emma pointed out, joining her on the sidewalk and handing her one of the cups. Lacey curled her gloved fingers around it lovingly, raising it to her face and feeling the steam wafting through the lid. She paused before she took a sip of it, looking over at Emma with a grin.
"Now, is this for me or Sheriff Skinnypants?" Lacey teased, watching Emma redden slightly.
"No," Emma growled, frowning at her over the rim of her cup. "Graham's off today. I was just trying to perk up your morning, but if this is the thanks I get-" Emma pulled the door to the Sheriff's office open, Lacey rushing ahead of her to get out of the cold. "I'll take it back over there and tell them I work with an ingrate."
"No, no!" Lacey laughed, setting her cup down on her desk and shaking out of her parka. "It was really very sweet of you to think of me. Thank you, Emma."
"You are very welcome," Emma answered, waving her hand in a sarcastic sweep before bending her knee in a faux curtsey dip.
"You know, you are way too good at that," Lacey noted, sitting down and flipping her hair out from her scarf.
"Had practice," Emma muttered, plopping down at her desk and kicking her feet up.
"Beauty pageants?" Lacey asked distractedly, combing through the service calls from the night shift. She recognized most of the usual suspects- locals with too much time on their hands, neighbors with decade old vendettas, the town drunk and some fish pond-
"If only," Emma pulled out her cell phone and started punching at it in her usual direct way. "I hate this thing; I don't understand why I have to have a work cell phone on me at all times when this desk phone works just fine."
"Graham still hasn't texted you back?" Lacey asked, looking over just in time to see Emma's mouth tighten in a thin line.
"Seriously, Belle," Emma grumbled, avoiding her eye. "I'm seriously considering replacing you with a robot. Stop it with the whole Graham thing."
"Well then you two stop being so awkward around each other. The kid we were holding in here last week for skipping school was practically begging me to call his mom by the time I got back from my lunch break, told me he couldn't take Days of Our Lives anymore."
Emma looked over with a raised eyebrow, "Days of what now?"
"It's a soap opera," Lacey waved it off. Apparently, Emma had grown up with her grandparents who didn't believe in cable or VCRs. She often completely missed pop culture references others, shooting others a bewildered, confrontational glare when she didn't understand a joke.
Lacey reached for last night's call log which she had printed out from their voicemail system. "Hey, looks like Mrs. Silverton called again just a minute ago."
"That the lady from Tennessee looking for her son?" Emma asked, sipping her coffee and continuing to toy with her phone.
"Yea," Lacey mumbled, rereading the details. "She's been calling pretty regularly lately, hasn't she?"
"Graham mentioned families often pick up calling around the anniversary, it's on their minds more." Emma shrugged, keeping her eyes on her phone screen. Lacey started to memorize the information, careful to note the number and name so she could double check it against her files when she got back to her apartment.
"The kid was supposed to be in Canada at the time, how could he possibly have been outside Storybrooke?" Emma continued, flipping on her desk lamp.
"I don't know," Lacey murmured distractedly, trying to remember the last missing person case information she had unearthed while "helping file" the other day. Greg's father's case was over twenty years old and had been buried in the back under wildlife accident but a few others in the interim years had disappeared or had been reported missing in the winter months, fitting with the winter solstice timeline.
Lacey pulled the file up on her old computer. No one had heard from Joshua Silverton since his last text to his girlfriend before he stopped for gas on the main highway north. The filed report noted the office had informed Mrs. Joanne Silverton her son had never been to town, had no record of him driving through and no explanation on why his cell phone tracker showed his last location as being within twenty miles of the small town.
Emma grumbled some more before stretching slightly, hands reached out as she said, "Just give it to me and I'll file it."
Lacey nodded, careful not to show any outward sign of interest as she wordlessly handed it over. Emma was sharp and had keen observation skills. She often liked to unnerve people by telling them she could always tell if they were lying.
In Lacey's experience, it took a liar to spot one.
Casually elbowing her notepad, Lacey knocked her pen to the floor, leaning down nonchalantly to pick it up. She let her hair fall into her face as she bent down. She watched through her curtain of curls as Emma quickly folded the paper and stuck it in her jacket pocket, continuing to flick through her cell phone.
Lacey straightened, tucking her hair behind her ear, turning back to her work with a frown. She doubted that call would ever be logged and she glanced back at Emma, eyeing her doubtfully.
Working together often could be tense at times. Both women felt deep down that the other one wasn't being completely honest. A few probing conversations had finally led Lacey to drop that Belle may not be her real name, but a possible cover from an old abusive flame. Emma had seemed satisfied, dropping the subject completely.
On the other hand, Emma's story about being raised by her grandparents out in the boonies of northern New York never felt quite true either- and she tended to avoid the topic whenever it came up.
Lacey didn't want to think Emma had anything to do with the disappearances but...
Emma was relatively new to town as well. Most of the town didn't trust her yet. She also had a tendency to be a bit of a lone wolf. Often doing what she felt best instead of following the rules and procedures the Sheriff's office had in place to deal with small town problems.
Of course, Lacey had toyed with the idea that Emma was here for the same reason she was- but Emma never seemed curious about the things that seemed odd to Lacey.
Phone calls from a worried mother were handled perfunctory while Lacey kept hoping for a chance to talk to the woman- find out what her son was doing around here and why he may have ended so far off course. Other missing cases that Lacey dragged out or "discovered misfiled" were often ignored, both Graham and Emma shrugging them off before they changed the subject to a more recent issue at hand.
All in all, life in Storybrooke stayed calm, easy going and pleasant…if one liked small towns.
So, her first few weeks had mostly been full of research, getting to know owners of shops, talk to people who came to the station, build herself up as someone you could talk to, confide in- but small town people had a different view of outsiders. While they found Belle warm and inviting often stopping to talk with her, they still tended to keep to themselves about their own business.
Graham, who had been born and raised here, had told her one night not to worry so much about it.
"People will warm up to you over time," he said, bumping down the secondary main road as he took her home after a late shift. "Just give them some time to get to really know you. Hell, most of them still don't care for Emma and she's been here almost a year now."
She dismissed the odd feeling, chalking it up to Emma's disdain for paperwork. She returned to her usual morning routine. It was a slow day, a few calls came in but the winter weather seemed to be keeping most people inside and out of trouble. Graham called around five to tell them to go ahead and close the office for the night, an early Christmas present.
"God, I can't believe it's almost Christmas," Lacey said, following Emma out the door, flicking off the lights as they left. "I swear it was just summer yesterday."
"I like it," Emma replied, blinking up at the night sky. Lacey stopped besides her, gazing up as well.
The stars were out, clear and bright this evening rivaling for attention with the Christmas lights strung along every roof and store front as far as the eye could see. The two women stared up for a bit, both adrift in their own thoughts when a loud honking startled them out of their reverie.
Down the road, a couple was waving goodbye to their friends, driving away in an old pickup, the back of the truck filled with logs.
"Are they chopping down trees for firewood?" Emma started forward, her authority face firmly set before Lacey held her arm out to stop her. "I didn't see a permit for-"
"Relax, Emma!" Lacey quietened, lowering her arm. "It's just the Jones. Some trees fell down on their farm last week during the storm. They're giving the excess wood away; they stopped by the station earlier this week to see if we needed any."
Emma nodded, twisting her hands in her jacket, staring off at the disappearing truck bed. Lacey bit her cheek, knowing what was really bothering the blonde.
"I'm sure they stopped at your place, Em," Lacey assured. "You probably were just working late when they did."
"Yea, sure," Emma consented but it lacked conviction. "You' know, you've only been here a month and everyone's already half in love with you. 'That nice Belle girl is such a doll- can't understand why she's not settled down yet' while most people cross the street to avoid talking to me…"
"Yes, Emma, because you know I just I love it when people I barely know discuss me and my life choices," Lacey deadpanned, causing Emma to crack a grin. "Besides Graham likes you just fine. And so do I. The others will get there; you just… take some adjusting to, is all."
Emma looked far away for a moment, glancing back up at the sky before back at her shoes.
"Yea, I get that a lot."
Lacey nudged her with her elbow, trying to break her out of her bad mood. She considered what to do with the night as they wandered down the road, the temperature dropping fast.
She had hit a low point in her research and while the disappearance of the young man last year was a credible lead, she still wasn't sure what she was going to tell Reese when he called in four days. She was eager to get home, back to an actual career and an apartment with a dishwasher.
Back to a life where she was Lacey French, investigative reporter for The Looking Glass instead of Belle Ives, Storybrooke Sheriff's Secretary.
"Let me buy you a hamburger," Lacey decided suddenly, heading off towards the diner without waiting for a response.
"Oh, twist my arm a little harder, "Emma groaned laughingly, trudging along.
"What are friends for?" Lacey retorted, picking up the pace.
The two walked side by side down the path, a few flurries dusting the lawn outside the diner. The promise of more snowfall that evening made them hurry inside, shaking their boots off at the door.
"Hey, what did you say you were doing Saturday night?" Lacey asked, noticing a local ad for the big Christmas Gala. She recalled talking about it when she had checked into her room. Even Graham had brought it up the other day, showing excitement about something other than guns and hunting for a change.
"It's an annual town tradition," Graham had said, eyeing Emma across the room. "Everyone goes."
"This Saturday?" Emma asked looking over the menu, despite the fact she got the hamburger every single time.
"Yea," Lacey confirmed, finding her usual sandwich on the menu. "Just thinking about sharing a room for the Gala- unless you already made room reservations with someone else?"
"Uh, I think I already have plans," Emma mumbled, keeping her gaze fixed on the menu. "I'll have to see- maybe we could do something Sunday instead?"
Lacey unlocked her phone, going to check the weekend's dates. She noticed the diner had a calendar perched on the windowsill, a merry and bright countdown to Christmas. She leaned forward to check the dates and froze.
That upcoming Saturday was the 21st.
Marked clearly as this year's Winter Solstice.
She sat back down heavily, looking at the calendar, mouth slightly open and brow furrowed. Emma glanced up from her menu, noticing her expression.
"Belle, what is it? You look like you've just seen a ghost," Emma grew concerned, peering out the window as if looking for someone.
"Oh no, I'm fine," Lacey promised, reaching for her sweet tea and waving her hand to dispel Emma's panic. "Just warmed up too fast- got woozy for a second."
"Oh," Emma replied, cocking her head in concern. She looked like she was considering pressing the issue but Lacey offered a shaky smile, forcing herself to relax. Emma finally nodded in begrudging acceptance before asking, "What were you saying before?"
"I was wondering what you were doing Saturday night," Lacey repeated, trying for nonchalant as she picked up her menu again. Her heart was beating oddly, thumping loudly enough she was sure Emma could hear it across the table.
"Just something-," Emma was saying, pushing at the salt shaker absently. "It's my one year anniversary here- thought I'd stay in with a glass of wine and toast my small accomplishments, watch some movie I've never seen before, get drunk out of self-pity and stay out of everyone's way- can't we just do something Friday instead? I won't be any fun Saturday and besides I hate getting all dressed up."
Lacey nodded along in forced agreement, trying not to look at Emma.
She knew the other woman was lying. Emma wasn't really the type to host a pity party for one, much less admit to it. The deputy hated anything resembling weakness especially when it came to herself.
Now, avoiding a social event where everyone in town would be attending- that did sound like Emma.
The whole town knew Emma but only four or so of them actually went out of their way to speak to her. Most townspeople including the serving staff at the diner and coffee shop kept a careful almost cautious distance from her.
Even now, Lacey noticed a family sitting nearby looking over nervously, the young mother catching Lacey's eye and looking guiltily away.
This was strange in Lacey's opinion. Graham's excuses aside, they had all warmed to Belle after a few days. Lacey had marked that up to her small skills at being able to read people but now, sitting at a booth across from her colleague- now she wasn't so sure.
It definitely was an odd coincidence the Winter Solstice just happened to also be Emma's one year anniversary in Storybrooke. But as she looked outside, watching a man stumbling along as his dog pulled against his leash in the cold night, she had to admit that if Greg hadn't pointed out the winter solstice pattern, Emma's reluctance probably wouldn't seem odd at all.
Most people didn't like authority figures, Lacey considered, especially a small town community where a practical stranger to the town was second in command to the Sheriff himself. A young woman at that.
She looked up catching Emma's eye. Both sat for a moment, the awkward feeling of uncertainty hanging between them.
"So, are you getting the chicken?" Lacey managed to joke, knowing full well Emma would order her usual- a rare hamburger with extra pickles and hot sauce.
Emma rolled her eyes with a groan as she kicked at Lacey's shins under the table causing them both to start chuckling dispelling the tension.
Lacey decided put it the whole mess of her head for the night, noting she could always see if she could get any more information about Emma from Graham if it still bothered her in the morning.
Author's Notes:
If you are interested in what the Inn looks like, and it will be featured more in the next chapter- I based the initial look and feel on the Norumbega Inn. My version is much larger since I had to fit a whole town in there but I loved the look of the old place.
Again, please DM me with any notices on spelling/grammar errors- working without a beta is a dangerous business.