A/N: Just a head's up: This story is a slower burn than I normally write. It's going to take a little while to get our girls together given the circumstances of the story. Hang in there, it will happen: And it will be worth the wait, I promise. The pacing of the first few chapters may seem slow, but there's a lot of ground work to lay. If you're finding it a bit light on SQ, it will pick up quickly.
"Mornin', Chief."
Emma walked into the police station, momentarily confused by the greeting. Oh, yeah, that's me.
"Hi, Martha. How's it goin'?"
Emma remembered the department's daytime – and best - dispatcher from her interview. The older woman was a little crotchety with her coworkers – and occasionally a lot with the public - but she was professional and never got rattled under pressure. Martha had a voice that reflected decades of Camels and coffee, but skills that could help her talk through any panicking caller. Over her 21 years with Storybrooke Police, she had helped deliver four babies and saved a man from choking – all over the phone.
"I met Martha when her husband Ed damn near cut off his hand with a chainsaw," retiring Chief Edgar Burroughs told his soon-to-be successor. "There was blood everywhere and Ed was screamin' like a banshee. But Martha, she was calm, cool and collected. Didn't say a word, just kept putting pressure on the hand to slow the bleeding and keep it from fallin' off the bone. I knew right there, she'd make a great dispatcher."
"Ah'm good, Chief," Martha replied. "Your dress uniform's in your office. Try it on and let me know if it fits. If it doesn't, I can have David run it up to Gunny and get it set for tonight."
Emma looked confused. "Gunny?"
"Gunnerson. The tailor," Martha huffed, as if Emma should have known who the town tailor was on Day 1. "Hold on— Storybrooke Police, you're being recorded…"
The blonde nodded and headed across the threshold of her new office, the frosted window of which bore lettering in bold, block letters:
POLICE CHIEF EMMA SWAN
If she ever got 30 seconds alone and away from Martha's reportedly ever-watchful eyes, she'd snap a pic and text it to Robert.
She dropped her gear bag on her desk and spied the least-fashionable, most-formal uniform she'd ever wear hanging off a hook to the right of the door. A standard police chief's dress uniform was black and boxy: blazer with shiny, brass buttons, white dress shirt, pants and a tie. Four brass stars on each shoulder loop signified her rank, and it was literally topped off with a standard police peaked cap, a far cry from the dramatic campaign hat she wore as a trooper. In fact, the whole ensemble made her state trooper uniform look downright fashionable.
Emma dressed – it fit, at least – and leaned her head out of the office door: "Uniform fits fine."
"Come out here, lemme see."
The new chief walked out and stood still as Martha walked around inspecting, tugging her jacket taut and straightening her tie.
"It'll do."
Turning on a heel, Emma spied a glint of metal under the dispatcher's desk and was about to question it when Lt. David Nolan walked in. "Hey, Nolan." Emma walked across the bullpen to shake hands with the man she met weeks earlier.
"Chief, glad you're here." Storybrooke wasn't big enough to merit a deputy chief, but Nolan fit nicely as an unofficial second-in-command. He was the highest-ranking officer aside from Emma and, according to his jacket, a good one at that.
The All-American-looking man enlisted in the Army right out of Camden Regional and spent 10 years deployed, including a heavy tour in the Middle East. Offered an honorable discharge as part of the troop draw-down, he returned to enter the police academy, grabbing the next open spot on his hometown force.
"Come see me when you have a sec."
"Got one now," he replied, following the Chief into her office, closing the door and taking a seat.
"So, I work for Martha now, right? She runs things?"
The lieutenant laughed heartily. "You got that already? You're going to do well here."
"About tonight, spread the word: Don't feel like you guys have to stay for the whole thing. We'll take our pictures for the paper and then you can head out whenever you like."
"Ah, it's OK. I like those things, plus my girlfriend wants to go." The man grinned mischievously. "You met her yesterday…Mary-Margaret."
"Get out!" Emma exclaimed, mouth open in surprise. "Why didn't she say anything? Was she scouting me out for you?"
"Heh, nah. She's a little shy and was worried it might make things weird if you knew before you met her."
"Well, you tell Mary-Margaret Blanchard I like her just fine on her own." The recent peek under Martha's desk resurfaced to the front of her brain. "Oh, hey, is it me or is there a sawed-off shotgun under the dispatcher's desk?"
"There is a sawed-off shotgun under the desk," he confirmed with a grin. "It's Martha's."
The statement of fact was so bizarre, surprising and insanely dangerous, Emma could barely form a response.
"She watches a lot of cop shows. I think she wants protection in case the Taliban or whatever storm in here and try to overthrow the station," he laughed. It was insane, but it'd been a fact of life for so long, everyone accepted it as normal. "If it helps, she has a license to carry."
"Did Burroughs know about it?"
"Know about it? I'm pretty sure he sawed it off for her."
Emma couldn't help but shake her head. "OK, I'll deal with that later."
Static from Nolan's radio interrupted the conversation, followed by a female voice. "Alpha-1, what's your 20?"
"Station."
"10-4, Alpha-1, 10-54, Fowler Road, requesting assistance."
"10-4, Alpha-2, on my way."
Emma thought she knew every 10 code, but that one escaped her.
"I don't want to sound stupid on the first day, but 10-54?"
Nolan grinned as he stood and made his way out the door.
"'Livestock on road.' Get used to it."
XXXX
Emma spent the rest of her day getting settled and equipped with her radio, firearm and the chief's car, which smelled like fast food. She left the windows open and made a quick trip to the drugstore to grab a hanging pine tree air freshener; it seemed fitting. On her way to the counter, she passed a small display of toys, including several Matchbox cars. No yellow Mustang, but it gave her an idea.
Storybrooke PD had 10 officers and each day was split into three shifts: Alpha, 7 a.m.-3 p.m.; Bravo, 3 p.m. to 11 p.m.; and Charlie, 11 p.m. to 7 a.m. Two officers were on duty for Alpha and Bravo shifts, one for Charlie ("Edgar always said two would be a waste of money," Nolan explained. "Nothin' goes on past midnight. If Charlie-1 gets in a jam, he can call one of us in."). Each officer had their own call sign according to the shift they were working; the chief was always Delta-1.
Emma was in the middle of reviewing personnel files and performance reports when Shannon Bell, Alpha-2, knocked on the door. "Got a minute, Chief?"
"I have several, c'mon in." Emma stood up, shook Bell's hand and then gestured to the empty chair.
"I just wanted to come in and say hey, see how you're settling in."
"So far, so good. I'm just going to do whatever Martha says and I think I'll be OK."
"You are good."
Emma examined the woman critically. If you saw the petite blonde on the street, she looked more like a retired gymnast than a police officer. But those who underestimated her did so at their own peril. While she may have looked sweet and unassuming, in reality she was a lethal weapon. In her spare time Bell taught kickboxing three times a week at the local gym and was a second-level black belt in Krav Maga, as well as the reigning New England Women's Champion in her belt class. She was an expert at taking down drunks and belligerents if need be; Nolan termed it "getting your Bell rung."
"You ready for tonight?"
"Yup, got my glad rags, practicing my smile for the camera, you know all the tricks."
The young officer smiled, she was really going to like working for what seemed like a kindred spirit. She was this close to applying for a job in Augusta when she heard Edgar was leaving.
The conversation was interrupted by a knock on the door, followed by Nolan's head peeking through. "Tink, are you taking that detail this weekend at the festival or am I?"
Bell grabbed a pencil off Emma's desk and whipped it at him, missing by an inch as he ducked. "Don't call me that, you jackass!" She paled a shade when she realized what she just did and where she was. "Oh, damn, sorry, Chief, I—."
"Nah, it's alright," Emma laughed. "If someone's being a jackass, you're free to call them out on it. See you tonight."
Emma went back to file-reading, but couldn't stop a chuckle when she heard what sounded like Nolan's voice croaking out a muffled "Ow!" from the bullpen about 1 minute after the blonde left.
After lunch at her desk and a visit from IT to ensure her laptop and town-issued cell were configured, up and running, Emma entertained another guest, this one scheduled: Sidney Glass of The Storybrooke Daily Mirror.
"Chief, paperman's here!" Marta bellowed by way of introduction.
Emma stood and extended her hand. "Sidney, nice to meet you." Chuckling she added, "Sorry" nodding her head toward the dispatch desk.
"Heh, I know Martha well. Thanks for taking the time on what must be a busy day. I know we'll get pictures tonight and we have all your background, but we have a big piece planned and I'd like to get most of it written up before the ceremony."
Emma rolled out rehearsed – but sincere – statements about her vision for Storybrooke's force and its role in helping the town grow safely. She answered the obvious questions, making sure to refute what becoming a tall tale regarding her role in the Boston Marathon bombing aftermath. Apparently folks around town were already proud of their new chief and an innocent town-wide game of Telephone was turning her into some sort of superhero. The last thing she wanted was to be mistakenly portrayed as a Black Widow-like lone wolf who single-handedly defeated all the bad guys.
"So, last question: What do you like to do in your spare time?"
"To be honest, I've never really had any. I like to go to the gym and I like to run, but otherwise I haven't had the time to cultivate any hobbies. I'm sure I'll find some in Storybrooke."
XXXX
Emma walked into the town's auditorium exuding confidence in her sharp dress blues, but inside she was more nervous than she'd been in a long time. If the swearing-in were an event, it would have been sold-out; she had to park around the block to get a spot. Although it was heartwarming to see a community value its law enforcement, she had to wonder: Don't these people have anything better to do on a Monday night?
Despite the fact she knew very few people in the hall, Emma was nearly swallowed up upon entrance by well-wishers and concerned citizens, who offered everything from introductions to complaints about a neighbor's loud rooster. She was just about to break away with a polite excuse when rescue came in the form of a satiny voice over her shoulder.
"Good evening, Chief."
Emma internally sighed in relief, made a polite good-bye to the rooster-bitcher and turned to find the Mayor, poured into a short-sleeved, belted grey dress that displayed her curves wonderfully.
"Mayor Mills."
"Chief!" squeaked a high voice somewhere around her thigh.
"Henry." Emma smiled warmly in surprise. "You came to see me get my badge?"
The boy grinned wide. "Yup! All dressed up," he noted, tugging on his Polo shirt and checked Bermuda shorts.
"I'm afraid I couldn't keep him away. He's quite a fan."
"Well, he is my first friend in town. I'm really glad you're here," she stage-whispered to the boy, crouching down to his level.
"I like your jacket, it's shiny." Henry rubbed his fingers over the bright, brass buttons.
"Uniform, dear."
"Pretty cool, huh?"
Regina cleared her throat, trying to regain Emma's attention, which was lost to her son. "Chief, do you have any family or friends here tonight?"
The blonde stood to her full height, green eyes swimming with confusion.
"Was I supposed to?"
Now it was Regina's turn to be flummoxed. Who wouldn't invite their family and friends to such an achievement?
The women stared at each other in mutual bewilderment, until Emma broke first, trying to supply some clarity. "I, uh…I don't have any family," she noted, surprisingly shy. "My friends are all down in Mass. working."
Regina's eyes softened, embarrassed she put the woman in a position that necessitated such a personal revelation. "I apologize, I truly didn't mean to pry. I was wondering whom you wanted to pin your badge."
"Oh, right, the ceremony." Emma had been to a few before; an officer's spouse or parents usually did the honors, hooking the badge on the breast pocket of the blazer. "Well, um, you'll be swearing me in, right? Would you mind?"
Emma's voice was so soft, so uncertain, it threw Regina for a few seconds. In the very short professional time she had known the woman, Regina had only met confident, accomplished State Police Captain Emma Swan, and new Storybrooke resident Emma Swan. Here, Regina realized, she had just met Emma Swan, the person.
"I would be honored." Regina smiled, confident enough for the both of them. Casting a glance at the clock on the wall, she gestured toward the stage: "Shall we?"
The pair made their way to the stage, while Henry plopped in the front row, talking to an adult woman animatedly. Emma looked on. Family friend? Aunt? Girlfr—nah.
"Good evening, ladies and gentleman. Thank you for joining us. Tonight we will swear in Storybrooke's 10th police chief, Emma Swan. I will administer the oath, Chief Swan will share a few words and then we can all enjoy refreshments, courtesy of the Lions Club."
Emma was just about to place her hand on the Bible proffered by Regina when a loud "Momma!" rang out. A faint blush covered Regina's cheeks as she squatted down at the edge of the stage with a forced polite smile to see what the boy needed. She seemed to sigh, smirked, then nodded, using one arm to hoist him onstage.
Regina looked at Emma as she spoke into the mic: "If you wouldn't mind, my son would like to join us. He's quite a fan of the chief's already." Henry bounded over and stood in between Emma and Regina, beaming. The crowd practically cooed in approval.
Regina stated the lines of the oath, Emma following, wondering if they never sounded as good coming from another human being. The brunette's voice was practically hypnotic. Focus! Emma ordered herself. Henry looked up at both women, excited by the intermittent explosions of bright light from the flash of Sidney's photographer.
"So help me God," Emma finished. Regina leaned in close as she slowly slid the back of the shiny, gold badge into the breast pocket of Emma's blazer. The blonde checked out for a few heartbeats, overcome by the gorgeous woman's proximity and the smell of her light perfume, but was brought back quickly when Henry led the audience in clapping.
Regina's voice was as warm and soft as the hand she offered in congratulations. "Welcome to Storybrooke, Chief." She took a seat off to the side of the podium with the City Council, Henry on her lap, while Emma stepped up to address the crowd.
"Thank you, Mayor Mills," she began, looking over her shoulder, "and Henry, he's my first friend here in town." Emma grinned as she heard several women "awwww" in the audience. "I'd like to keep this brief, because I don't know about you, but I'm hungry and that food looks amazing." The crowd laughed in approval. Regina nodded admiringly. This woman is smooth.
"I am extremely proud and grateful to be your new chief of police. I look forward to continuing the fine tradition of securing the safety of my new home and community. While I am proud of my work with the Massachusetts State Police—"
"Boston Strong!" shouted an exuberant voice from the back of the room, followed by a raucous round of applause. A small smile curled Emma's lips at the corners, a tiny nod acknowledging their support. Mainers had no love for Massholes, other than the money they spent in their state on vacation. But that didn't mean they wouldn't support them when they needed it.
"While I am proud of my work in the Commonwealth, I look forward to helping you build a strong, bright and safe future for Storybrooke. Thank you."
The crowded headed for the refreshments while Emma, her officers, Regina and the City Council posed for pictures. Henry requested one of him and his new BFF, as well as one with Henry, his mother and the chief.
Emma dug her personal phone out of her pocket and handed it to the photographer. "Get one for me? I'd like to send it to some of my friends." The trio duplicated their smiles, then Regina took off after Henry who wanted a brownie – now.
Mary-Margaret quickly sidled up, Nolan in tow.
"Youuuuu," Emma admonished with a grin. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"I…." she stammered, "…uh…"
"Eh, I'm kidding, I understand. My officer explained things," she smiled. "This is quite the party. Most chiefs are sworn in at the station or a City Council meeting."
"It's a big deal in town," the brunette explained. "Edgar was chief for 27 years."
"Where'd he end up?"
The lieutenant rolled his eyes. "Huge house on Sebago. On the lake."
Raising her eyebrows in surprise, Emma could only sputter, "Wow." Sebago Lake was one of the state's most popular vacation spots; houses on the water easily went north of $1 million. "Well done, Edgar."
Emma took a bite of a brownie, swallowed and grinned at her new friends. "I think I got low-balled on my salary."
XXXX
Emma texted the picture of her, Regina and Henry to Robert without a message. A replied followed less than 2 minutes later:
SHIT, GRL, YOU ALREADY HAD A KID W HER?!
Ha ha
Go get it
How do you know she's not married?
Emma figured she wasn't. She didn't spy a ring on the woman's finger and Regina Mills looked like a woman who would wear one. She made a mental note to find out more about her new boss through back channels.
She's not, widow. Checked records for you. Now step to.
Widow. Emma filed another mental note.
Yeah, gr8 idea, sleeping with the boss. Who has a kid. In this tiny-ass town where you can't fart without someone knowing.
Just means you gotta be stealth and I know you're trained for that
10-8? Shouldn't be texting
10-7, lunch
Ending this stupid convo. Be safe.
You know I'm right. Srsly u look good w/ all those stars. WTG
Emma smiled and undressed, laying out her litany of tech on her nightstand: personal cell, town cell, police radio. She fell asleep to the gravely tones of Bravo-2 calling a wrecker for a motorist with a flat.
XXXX
The following afternoon, Regina was shutting down her laptop and packing her work bag with files for the evening when her secretary knocked and walked in bearing an interoffice envelope.
"It's from the Chief. I thought you might want to see it before you head out."
"Thank you, Laura. Have a good night."
Curious, Regina immediately uncurled the red twine holding the flap closed and pulled out a sheet of paper – a photocopy of a 2013 certificate from the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration declaring Captain Emma Swan a certified child car seat technician. Regina couldn't help but smirk at the accompanying yellow Post-it note :
FYI – E.S.
TBC
Reviews sincerely appreciated!
