After dropping Henry off at school, Emma swung by Granny's for coffee and donuts. She knew how David took his coffee (cream, no sugar), but she didn't know what the mysterious deputy preferred, and even if she did, it would have been a little creepy for her to "guess" the coffee orders of two strangers. So she settled for ordering hers with sugar and a little milk, and then she asked for a bunch of sugar and sweetener packets, and some little half-and-half containers.
Donuts were easier. Baker's dozen, enough bear claws for everyone, and no jelly-filled. She knew how to make a good impression with donuts.
She was nervous as she pulled into the lot at the station. What was there to be really nervous about, though? David would be there, whoever the deputy was would be there, and they would probably hire her. Then she could get to work, figuring out how to break the curse.
When she walked in, the bullpen was empty, as were the cells, and David was in his office on the phone, looking very concerned. When he spotted her, he smiled a bit and raised his hand in greeting, and then pointed at the phone. That was fine—she could wait. She placed the coffee and donuts on her old desk—back when she was briefly Graham's deputy—and took a sip of her beverage.
"Well, well, well," said a familiar voice from the hallway. "If you've committed a crime, I would be more than happy to take your confession."
It was Hook. She looked up, and her mouth gaped slightly.
He had that same old insufferable grin on his face, and judging by the way he was looking at her, his type hadn't changed a bit. But he was dressed in modern attire—jeans, button-down shirt, (actual, normal person) leather jacket, no jewelry—and he had his prosthetic on instead of his hook.
"I'm here to talk to David," she said, choosing not to address his ridiculous comment.
"And just who are you?" he asked, as though it were any of his business.
She was tempted to reply the way she had in Neverland (wouldn't you like to know), but the last thing she wanted to do was engage Hook in witty banter. That always ended with him pushing her boundaries just a little more—just enough that she would end up feeling lost and confused and uncomfortable and unsure—and she wasn't in the mood. She already felt that way, with the curse erasing everyone's memories.
"I'm Emma Swan," she replied. She held out her hand to shake; there was no point in alienating this guy who (as far as he knew) had never met her before. "I just moved to town with my son."
"Well, welcome to Storybrooke, Emma Swan," he said warmly, shaking her hand. "I'm Dylan Smith." She almost snorted at the cursed name.
"Oh good, you've met," David said, finally done with his phone call. "Dylan, this is the woman I told you about over the phone."
"Oh, excellent," Hook said. "Ah, and I see she brought us refreshments. Wonderful."
"Bear claws?" David asked. "I knew you'd fit right in, Emma."
"Wha—wait," she said, still trying to process what was going on. "Dylan's your deputy?"
"No need to sound so critical of my skills," Hook said around a mouthful of cinnamon donut. "You've hardly met me."
"I, uh, sorry," she said, trying to cover for her astonishment. "Anyway, I can give you my employment history, if you need to check it out."
"To be honest," David said, adding half-and-half to a cup of coffee, "you seem pretty trustworthy. And we can use the help even if you're not very good at being a cop."
"I'm sure I'll be fine at it," she said drily.
"Don't worry, lass," Hook said. "Davey here isn't known for his tact."
David pulled a deputy badge from the drawer of the desk. "Here, why don't you put this on?" He continued talking as she did so. "So, Deputy Swan, let's fill you in. Over the past few days, we've had several residents disappear. Making matters worse, some of the people who've gone looking for them have also gone missing."
"We've also had some unknown animal sightings," Hook interjected. "People are starting to avoid going outside unless absolutely necessary. The forest along the edge of the town is typically teeming with hikers and nature lovers, but not lately."
"I talked with Dylan last night," David said, "and we agreed that the two of you will be in charge of patrol together, and I'd like for you both to focus on these strange occurrences. In the meantime, I'll handle office work and phone calls, and the more mundane issues, like arresting people for brawling at the Rabbit Hole or something." He sipped his coffee. "Does that sound like something that works for you, Emma?"
"Yes," she replied. "I'm ready to get started."
He nodded. "All right!" He grabbed a set of keys from the wall. "These are for your squad car. We only have two, so you and Dylan will have to share, but you're always welcome to drive your own vehicle if you'd like. Or you can patrol together—whatever works. It's going to take another couple days before I can issue a weapon."
"I've got my own I can use in the meantime," she offered, and he nodded in approval.
"Well, after I've had another pastry, I'll be ready to start my patrol," Hook said. "Perhaps our newest deputy should come with me for the first week or two; I could show her around our lovely little town."
"Sounds good," David said. "I'm going to fill out the necessary paperwork; Emma, when you guys are back for lunch, you can fill out your info and sign some forms."
"Okay," she said. "Let me just run to the bathroom, and I'll be ready."
Once in the ladies' room, she frantically texted Henry. She knew she said she wouldn't, but it was just too absurd. It's HOOK. The pirate is a DEPUTY. I CAN'T.
Hook was a deputy. Tasked with upholding the law! Friends—it seemed—with David! He was wearing normal clothes!
She could imagine the Hook she knew reacting to the situation. Swan, what the bloody hell am I wearing? Why does your father want to get drinks with me? This is absurd! What have you done with my hook?
Her phone beeped. Pics or it didn't happen, Mom.
She exited the bathroom to find Hook leaning against the wall immediately outside the door. "Ready, Deputy Swan?" he asked with a smile.
"Yes," she replied. "Although if you don't mind, I'd like to stop by my apartment to get my gun."
"Of course," he said. "After you." He gestured down the hallway.
Hook was surprisingly good company as they drove around Storybrooke, mostly keeping his innuendo to a minimum as he pointed out various landmarks and side streets. "I must admit that I've no children of my own, nor do I know that many children," he said as they drove. "So I'm not exactly the best person to tell you about what in this town might interest your boy. How old is he?"
"He's twelve," she answered, and she glanced at him to see his reaction.
"Then I certainly have no idea," he replied, not batting an eye. "The only child I've spent any time with is young Alex—Mark Green's son—and he's only four years old. So I'm reasonably sure that he and your son have different interests."
"What's their story?" she asked. "I mean, it's called Gold's Pawn Shop. Green said he died?"
"Well, disappeared, more specifically," Hook clarified. "We investigated, of course, and found no sign of him. If it weren't for his shop, and the fact that he owned just about every property in this town, it would have been as if he hadn't even existed. This was a long time ago," he clarified. "That is, his disappearance isn't part of the most recent spate."
"Good to know. So, how did Green come into the shop?"
He frowned. "To be honest, lass, I've no real clue. Davey might have some idea. I just recall that he just sort of took up the mantle, so to speak. I thought that Madam Mayor—that's Regina Mills—might have had something to do with it, but that's just a theory of mine."
"You spend time with him and his son?"
He chuckled. "It's your first day on the job, and you're already working on your interrogation skills. Is that right?"
"I'm just trying to get an idea of what the town is like," she said quickly. "You know, getting to know people. Might as well start with the guy sitting next to me."
"I'm quite pleased that you'd like to get to know me, Swan," he said, flashing her a quick smile before setting his eyes back on the road. "Mark's my landlord—of course, he's everyone's landlord—so I know the man. I've been known to strike up a conversation with him when I run into him. His son, for the moment, has decided he's to become a lawman when he grows up, so Mark's brought him to the station a few times."
"I see."
"What about you, Swan?"
"I thought you were supposed to be showing me around and helping me get to know the town."
"That doesn't mean I can't get to know you. Davey said you were a bail bondsperson?"
"Yep," she answered.
"Whereabouts?" he asked, ignoring the brevity of her initial answer.
"Boston for a while, and then New York. So how many disappearances have there been?"
"Seven so far," he said. "The first one was five days ago. Three more people disappeared four days ago, one more three days ago, and two more two days ago."
"Who's missing?"
He laughed. "No one you'd know?" he said, but he phrased it like question. "They were all people who've lived here for years; I doubt they'd been to Boston or New York any time recently. You wouldn't know them."
"Maybe when we get back to the station, you can show me some files," she suggested. "I might notice a pattern that you guys missed."
"What, you think they're being kidnapped?"
"I honestly don't know what to think." She stared at the window; they were driving slowly past Regina's house.
"That's the mayor's house," Hook said.
"I know," she replied.
"How do you know?" he asked.
Whoops. "She welcomed us to town." That was, at least, partially true.
Her phone beeped. Break between classes, where are those pics?!
"Boyfriend?" Hook asked, referring to her text.
"My son," she replied. Haven't had a chance yet, on patrol.
"So no boyfriend?"
Was there a version of Hook, cursed or not, who wouldn't pursue her relentlessly? "You're a sheriff's deputy," she pointed out, irritated that he was bugging her about her relationship status. "So you should be able to think critically. It's all part of investigating, right? Do you think I have a boyfriend?"
"Well," he said slowly, as if he were excited for the opportunity to discuss the subject, "you are unbelievably attractive, which tells me that you are likely highly sought after romantically. You've made it clear that your son comes first in your life. He's twelve, and you can't be older than …" he stole a glance at her, "thirty, which means you were very young when you had him. And it means that you likely raised him alone, and that you are very proud of your abilities as a mother. I'd guess that you've spent a long time trying to find a person whom you could deem worthy of joining your own little family."
She swallowed—why was her mouth so dry all of a sudden? Hook could read her just as well as he could before this new curse. "So, do you think I have a boyfriend?" she asked again, more quietly.
"I think you did. Things were probably getting serious, and then I'd hazard a guess that something happened. I'm not sure what—perhaps he proposed? Or became violent? Either way, you took your son and decided to make a fresh start somewhere else."
"Well," she said bitterly, her fingers shaking as she held her phone. She hoped she wouldn't have to use her gun today, if she couldn't stop trembling. "I suppose you are quite the observant deputy after all."
He pulled over. She wasn't sure why; they were on a random street in the heart of a residential part of town. Had she been truly new to Storybrooke, she'd wonder if there was some sort of den of crime that was well hidden, but she wasn't really new. She knew there was nothing here. So why had they pulled over?
"Swan, I'm sorry." Oh—that's why he had pulled over. "That was entirely uncalled for on my part. I can be quite good at reading people—it's why I'm a deputy in the first place—but that gives me no right to use that ability to embarrass or hurt you. I am so sorry."
"Thank you," she said softly, surprised at how quickly he'd apologized. She knew he meant it; he wasn't lying. "It's okay. We should probably keep going."
"It's nearly lunchtime," he said. He was still staring at her, and he hadn't shifted the car out of park. "Seeing as it is your first day today, and because I've made quite the ass of myself, I must insist that you allow me to treat you to lunch."
"Sure," she said, not willing to argue. He smiled and pulled away from the curb; even before it became clear from the route he was taking, she figured he was driving to Granny's.
The thought of sitting across a table or booth from Hook, and having him read her like an open book, both terrified her and soothed her. On the one hand, she wasn't ready to spring the truth behind her arrival in Storybrooke on anyone, and she was anxious that he'd be able to figure it out just from spending time with her. He'd already figured out part of the reason she'd left New York; it was only a matter of time before the rest followed.
But on the other hand, she felt desperately lonely. It had been less than a week since she and Henry had arrived in Storybrooke, and already the lack of recognition from the townsfolk was becoming unbearable. It was hard enough that she and Henry had to figure out why Storybrooke was back, and it was hard enough that they had to break another curse. But to do it without the companionship of their loved ones was excruciating. Every day that went by with Regina not recognizing Henry, or David (and Mary Margaret, whom she still hadn't run into) not recognizing her, they would only grow sadder.
Having Hook figure her out so easily made her feel like he knew her. It was an unexpected benefit of how well he read her thoughts and emotions.
When they arrived at Granny's, Emma automatically slid into a booth, and Hook excused himself to talk to Granny for a moment. Emma used the opportunity to surreptitiously snap a photo of him as he turned to walk back to the table.
"Like what you see?" he asked, grinning wickedly.
She continued to hold her phone up awkwardly as she typed. "I'm texting my son, and the glare is awkward in this seat," she lied. He raised an eyebrow but didn't call her out. She quickly tapped out some text. Jeans and everything!
A waitress Emma didn't recognize came over and took their orders. She almost asked where Ruby was, but remembered as she opened her mouth to speak that she wasn't supposed to know who Ruby was in the first place.
"Something on your mind?" He'd noticed that she had almost said something.
"I realized it wasn't any of my business," she said, hoping he wouldn't press the issue.
"What wasn't?" Nope—she wasn't so fortunate.
"What you were speaking to Granny about."
His face darkened. "Mrs. Lucas? Her granddaughter Ruby went missing on Sunday."
"I'm sorry," she said. She felt cold; it had been one thing to know that people were missing, but it was an entirely different situation knowing that it was someone she knew and cared about. It also explained why Granny had been so unfriendly that evening; she'd been worried about where Ruby was. It seemed as if her concern hadn't been unwarranted.
"Don't be. You're a deputy now, so it's your business." The waitress brought over water and coffee for both of them, and he took a sip of each. Emma did as well, after reaching for a handful of sugar packets.
"Car accident," he said suddenly. She had been sipping her coffee, testing its sweetness, and almost choked in surprise when he spoke.
"What?"
He waved his left arm. "Lost it in a car accident."
"I didn't ask," she reminded him.
"But you might have," he suggested.
"No, I wouldn't have." She thought back to their conversation in the Enchanted Forest, when she'd been trapped in Rumplestiltskin's cell.
He was quiet after that, and their food arrived soon after. After busying themselves with lunch for several minutes, he spoke again. "I was suspected in Gold's disappearance."
"Why?" If there had been no new curse, she would have known why. But while she would have suspected Hook, she wouldn't have suspected Dylan Smith.
"He blamed me for his wife's death," he said sadly. "She died in the same accident." He briefly lifted his left arm again.
She took a sip of water. "Was it your fault?"
"No," he said. "But it should have been."
"I don't understand."
He shook his head. "I mean, it wasn't my fault. She ran a stop sign. I had the right of way and couldn't stop in time. Gold … he believed I was driving drunk and that the only reason I hadn't been arrested and charged was that I was a deputy. He made life very difficult for me afterwards—I couldn't find an apartment because he owned them all, so I was sleeping in one of the cells in the station for a while."
That would explain why he'd been a suspect. But it didn't explain something else. "Why are you telling me all this?" she asked as their food arrived.
He pressed his lips together before answering. "I learned some very personal, private things about you today—things that were not meant for me to know. I thought it was only fair that you know some similar information about me." He ate a French fry, and then shrugged at her.
"Well," she said after a moment, as she tried to find the right words to say. "I'd consider that to be good form." She flicked her eyes onto his face to catch his reaction to one of his favorite terms.
He chuckled. "'Good form?'" he asked. "Who are you, Captain James Hook?"
She shrugged and began to focus on her food again. At least he got the reference.
YAY, it's Hook!
