[Disclaimer] I don't anything OUAT
[A/N] Big thanks to everyone who followed. I am so happy some of you like my first Swanqueen fic.
Today's update is dedicated to tlc125 and LyzzSQ
Chapter 4
"Are you good at French?"
Emma shrugged her shoulders at Ruby's question. She hadn't spoken a single word of the foreign language since she had dropped out of school over ten years ago. This was going to turn into a problem for her now. Not, that it did matter whether she passed Monsieur Gaston's class or not. Once this awkward role play would be over, she would never have any use of what she was learning here anyway.
"Emma?"
"I suck at French."
"So do I!"
Ruby granted her new friend a smile and moved her table a bit closer to Emma's. She pulled out a salve with an ointment and applied it carefully over a fresh tattoo on her left wrist.
"I can't stand him. Gaston has it big for Belle French but she doesn't give him the light of day."
"Is that another teacher?"
Emma was getting a headache from meeting so many people in one day. At least that would be one good thing about the microphone. If she wanted she could replay every scene of the day over and over again.
She felt warmth stream into her face when she remembered how Ms. Mills legs had looked like from her unwanted close-up view. Emma had a very vivid memory of how smooth they had felt like against her fingertips.
"Are you warm, Emma? You're looking a bit flushed."
"I am a bit hot."
"Wait until it gets summer and we all melt away in this crappy place without AC."
Ruby folded a sheet of paper into a makeshift fan. She waved around with it in front of Emma's face.
"Thanks. So, Ms. French is another teacher? What class does she hold?"
"Belle runs the school library. She's always nice and so pretty."
Ruby's face light up.
"And Mr. Gaston is into her?" Emma asked.
"Yes! It's so gross. You should see him; how his slimy little pig eyes get bigger when she walks by in a short skirt."
Speak of the devil and he shall appear. Gaston walked in. He was a chubby guy who pushed his chest out while he walked. Emma didn't understand any what he said, because he prattled a five minute monolog in French. He had left Quebec and his shrewish first wife behind him over twenty years ago. He still had it in him, that special charm, women of all ages found hard to resist. Gaston noticed a new admirer in the back row of his senior class. A cute blonde with nice firm tits squeezed into a tight top.
He wiped a bit of perspiration from his forehead and smiled self-satisfied at himself as he walked towards Emma's desk.
"Mademoiselle, do you need any help?"
Emma swallowed down stomach acid in her mouth. What a disgusting sleaze ball, she thought while her lips morphed into a fake smile. She had given into her hunger before class and had eaten a candy bar. Most of the caramel was still stuck into the brackets of her braces.
"I am not very good at French."
She pulled her ponytail over her shoulder and twisted a thick curl of it around her fingers. Some men are idiots and Gaston wasn't the brightest light around. It had taken Emma two seconds to figure that out.
"Maybe you can be patient with me?"
Gaston felt like he was about to jizz his pants just a tiny bit this very moment. He lifted his tissue to his face again and wiped away more sweat. "No problem, Mademoiselle."
He went back to his desk and scrawled down something on a post it. "These books may help you catch up. Mademoiselle French will help you pick them out."
After class Emma felt more like going home straight, instead she was forced to head for the school library.
With a sigh, she pulled down the handle. The scent of tea filled her nose as she entered the room. A woman with mahogany colored hair was sitting on a chair, legs on top of the table in front of her while she nipped on a cup of Earl Grey. When the woman saw Emma she quickly dropped the book she was reading and turned it around so the cover was against the desk. Always these interruptions when she was at an interesting, naughty part in the book.
"Can I help you?"
"Are you Ms. French? My name's Emma Swan. Mr. Gaston sent me here."
French munched on a piece of bagel before she turned her attention to Emma. "I'm just Belle to everyone. You don't have to be so formal with me. I am not one of your teachers."
"Good," Emma stated. "The teachers I met here so far aren't that great."
"Oh, you get used to it. Most of them aren't that bad if you get to know them better. Mr. Gaston is a bit…special though. To be honest, I can't stand that man."
Belle took the post-it note from the girl's hand and read through it. "You are in Mr. Gaston's class. Does that mean you like learning languages?"
"Not really." Emma wondered if she could discuss her schedule with Nolan and Blanchard again. They needed to give her more information about what she was supposed to watch out for.
"You shouldn't have picked French class then. Or do you need it for college? What do you want to do after school?"
The question was inconvenient for Emma. It wasn't like she ever had a true choice. She felt that whenever she talked about her after school life, it sounded like a failure. If only she had tried harder. The main priority in Emma's life was her son and with a kid it was hard to go back to school. She wasn't stupid. Emma knew, she was smart, even if it wasn't in the academic sense. Life taught you more than any class room could ever do.
"I didn't think about it too much, might just try to get a job."
"Don't you want to get into College first?"
"I can't afford to do that. It's too much money."
"There are scholarships. I can give you information on it. Are your grades good? That helps."
Emma shook her head. This was frustrating. It was stupid that this was making her feel bad. Her life was good the way it was. She and Henry were managing just fine. Yes, they could need more money, but hey, life's not a picnic, right? She was doing what she could.
If only she had not let her being talked into helping with the break-in. Emma would never forgive herself for this mistake.
"I am not a very good student. I have not paid much attention to my education in the last years."
It was strange for Emma how the truth melted so perfectly together with the lie. Since Henry's birth she had thrown all her energy into making ends meet and building a home for herself and the boy. She wanted her son to have what Emma had never experienced in her own youth; a happy childhood.
Henry was happy. Even if they never had much money to afford a lot of luxuries nothings like flat screen tv's.
"It's never too late to start, you know?"
Belle gave Emma an encouraging smile. "You could start with taking night time classes at the community college. That gives you enough time to get a part-time job during the day."
"I don't think I am smart enough for college."
"That's nonsense. A good education is important."
The words stuck with Emma during her way to the little one-bedroom apartment the FBI had rented for Emma to stay at. When she opened the door, Blanchard jumped up from the pull-out sofa.
"You are late. I was afraid you'd run off or something stupid like that."
Behind her Nolan chuckled.
"Did you get detention for ruining Mills shoes?"
"Don't remind me. That was freaking embarrassing."
"You're fine, Emma." Blanchard smiled kindly. "Why did you take so long to come here?"
"I had to get something from the library."
She placed the pile of books on the small table.
"I'd rather have you meet me in a public place next time. I'd like some privacy if that is possible."
Nolan grinned. He leaned back against the red brick wall and coughed.
"For the next weeks, Blanchard and I will be your Mommy and Daddy. You better get used to us being around."
Blanchard's red doll mouth morphed into a half-smile. It was important that Emma stayed calm. They needed her help.
"Give us the microphone, so we can see what you have so far."
"No!"
Emma took two steps backwards. She folded her leather jacket together and held it against her chest.
"First you will remove this dreadful thing in my mouth. Then you can have the microphone. There is nothing interesting on there, anyway."
Nolan pointed to a chair next to Blanchard. It was then that Emma noticed the Dentist equipment on the table. They weren't going to remove the braces here? Without a real doctor?
Crap.
"Sit down. We have you freed from your braces in no time. I am sorry if they were uncomfortable to wear for you. This equipment is quite new. We don't have much experience with it."
Emma didn't feel comfortable in her skin. She held onto the jacket in her arms as she slowly lowered herself on the chair. Her lips parted. Blanchard had to tell her several times to open her mouth wider. Had she even done this before?
Getting the braces removed hurt. Emma's jaw throbbed as Blanchard fumbled around on her front teeth. Eventually, it was over. She swiped her tongue over the inside of her dry lips.
Instead of throwing the spit-covered braces away, Blanchard handed the metal pieces to her partner.
"We can check the chip on this microphone first."
"You put a microphone in my mouth? Are you two fucking insane?"
Nolan's left eyebrow twitched. He opened a briefcase and placed the braces into a plastic box in it before closing it up again.
"It's better when you know as little as possible, Emma. That's safer for you."
Emma rubbed her aching jaw and massaged her throbbing cheeks. It still stung.
"All I care is that Henry is safe. Where is my son? I want to speak to him."
"You have my word the boy is safe."
Nolan placed his hand against his chest. Emma was asking too many questions. Maybe they should have better picked someone else for this mission.
"Unfortunately, your word means crap to me. I want proof. Henry has never been away from me. He must be so frightened."
Blanchard sat down next to Emma and took her hand.
"You need to trust us."
"Do you trust me? You put a fucking microphone into my mouth. That's not trust."
"We figure out something else. You aren't going to keep your jacket on all the time. We need something that stays attached to you all the time."
"Maybe some nice earrings," Nolan suggested.
"I don't put holes in my body." Emma exposed her unpierced earlobe to the FBI agents.
"Here," Blanchard fumbled for something in her purse. Finally she revealed a charm bracelet. "Maybe we can try this." She wrapped the dangling bracelet around Emma's left wrist.
"One of the charms has a hidden microphone in it."
"Better than those braces, I guess."
Emma touched each of the seven charms with her fingertips. It was a pretty piece of jewelry. The little charms dangled in several colors against the silver bracelet.
"Now, can I speak to Henry please? I need to make sure, he's okay."
Nolan and Blanchard exchanged a look. He nodded his head. She smiled.
"Fine, we will call his foster family. But first, don't you want to eat a bite? I'm sure you must be hungry."
Agent Blanchard was taking her role as a mommy more serious than she should do.