An Apple vs. A Bear Claw
For the next few days, Emma was extremely busy. She arrived at work an hour before her shift started and left very late afterwards. But, she remained grateful, for she learned many new things about the town and residents, as well as her own staff.
The first thing she had learned was that she didn't like the Medium Roast coffee pod for the one cup machine. It did nothing in terms of waking her up and feeling more alert, and it tasted too light. She was the kind of person who, apparently, needed the Italian Dark Roast to give her that much needed kick. Give her a cup of coffee that was so strong it could remove paint from the walls, then add some milk and sugar. Granny's Diner, which was a short walking distance away, had the best plain black coffee in town. It was even better than at the local cafés, and Emma had found herself eating there quite a bit already.
Getting to know the people who worked for her was a constant amusement, and she had made sure to walk around and talk to the officers as much as she could. Assistant Sheriff Neal Cassidy, who had been the Interim Sheriff in her absence was a reserved sort of man. He was in his 30s, brown hair, medium build, good physique, and had a thin mustache. Additionally, while he gave her no reason to think he wasn't nice, there was something that she couldn't quite put her finger on that she distrusted; like he was hiding something. She wondered whether she might be reading him wrong, but called herself silly when she noted that he did his work well, and seemed to have run the department efficiently without a sheriff. So why didn't they give Neal the job?
Around him, Emma's super power—her ability to tell when people were lying to her—always pinged, even though he wasn't telling outright lies at the time. Suspicion lightly hovered. She'd thought about doing her own background check. But Lloyd, the IT-guy, mentioned that searches on the higher up officers were monitored, so they would get a warning if anyone tried to peek into their background. She had looked at his personnel record but didn't find any red flags. Still, he was polite and spoke formally, only when spoken to, so Emma thought she'd let a sleeping dog lie.
A small smile graced her face when she thought about the next officer in her command. Chuckling, she crossed her ankles under her desk, grabbed a cold fry from her styrofoam to-go container and recollected how they met.
It was Emma's first day on the job, and she decided to go back to Granny's to pick up one of the delicious homemade bear claws that sat under the glass cloche on the counter. They tended to disappear fast during the morning hours. In her mind, she was thinking about all that the new day would bring.
She was already wearing her uniform underneath a dark leather jacket. She thought she'd feel uncomfortable in the uniform because she had not worn one in years, being a plain clothed officer in Boston. Surprisingly, she felt good. And she had to admit, she looked smoking hot in the uniform, if she said so herself. Her blonde hair was twisted in a french braid at the back of her head.
Just about to grab the door handle, she recoiled in surprise as the door swung open and out came one of her Sheriff's Deputies, another female officer. Not looking ahead to where she was going, she bumped into Emma and slightly bobbled the takeaway coffee cup she was toting. Luckily, the cup was topped with a plastic lid so she only suffered a burnt thumb and not a splotch on her pressed uniform.
"Dagnabbit! I am so sor…" When her eyes met Emma's, her green eyes rounded right away and she stood soldier straight, allowing the door to close. She donned a look of utmost respect and apology. "Sheriff Swan!"
Emma recognized military when she saw it. Her aunts, who she had been raised by, owned a restaurant in Virginia Beach, and they served a lot of Military men and women. Aunt Ingrid, Aunt Helga, and Aunt Gerdie were known for their fruit pies and passion fruit & peach iced tea. Of course, they also made a mean bowl of chili and block of golden corn bread, if an appetite so moved in that direction.
The way this woman stood in front of her had the bearing of a soldier through and through.
"At ease," Emma kidded, inspecting the short cropped dark hair and held out her hand. "And, who might you be?"
"Ma'am, yes ma'am. Deputy Sheriff Lieutenant Mary Margaret Blanchard, Ma'am."
"That's a mouthful, isn't it?"
"Ma'am?" The woman switched her cup from one hand to the other and thought seriously about Emma's question. "Though, I suppose in a department the size of ours, I'm a step below the Assistant Sheriff. So, I guess you could call me Assistant, Assistant Sheriff. Though in some departments the Assistant Sheriff is called the Under Sheriff, so maybe the Under, Under Sheriff. Or the Under Sheriff Assistant? But never the Assistant Under Sheriff, because that just sounds inappropriate ma'am. If you get my meaning."
Emma was too busy blinking blankly at the woman, trying to remember what the hell she had just said at 6:30 in the morning before having her coffee. "Uh… yeaaaah." Emma scratched the middle of her head with one finger. "Why don't we start from the top, Lieutenant Blanchard." She extended her hand again to her officer. "Good morning, Mary Margaret. Pleasure to meet you."
Her hand was immediately squeezed in a death grip and pumped. "It is certainly a pleasure to meet you, Sheriff Swan. I've read all about you in the Boston Herald, online, and I saw you on the news clips. You cracked one of the biggest drug and sex trafficking rings in history! And before that, your performance record, especially with arrests, has been impeccable."
Slightly taken aback, Emma flushed slightly and looked around to see if anyone else had witnessed the outrageous exchange. She wasn't aware that she had a fan club. On the contrary, Emma was sure there were people out there who wanted to kill her.
"Well… thank you?"
"I am so honored to be able to serve under you, Sheriff Swan. Gosh, I am looking forward to learning so much from you." The young deputy looked about ready to burst from excitement, and though she was coming off a little strong, there was something about the woman that Emma admired. A tenacity. Enthusiasm. Positivity. Evaluating the woman while she spoke, Emma pulled the door open and entered the diner, followed by the praising officer. "I mean, consider me a sponge, ma'am."
"Well, let me teach you your first lesson." Emma waved to Granny and pointed to her favorite pastry. "Nothing comes between me and a good bear claw, got it?"
"Yes ma'am." Mary Margaret abruptly set her coffee cup down and tried to reach into her breast pocket until Emma held up a halting hand.
"You don't need to take notes, Blanchard."
"Of course, ma'am. Sorry. You must think I'm deranged." They sat at the counter while Granny packed Emma a bag. "It's just, I admire you so much for your contribution to society and law enforcement. I really do consider it an honor to have you heading our department in Storybrooke. True, we're not as big or busy as Boston, but we need order and discipline just the same to provide a good quality of life for our citizens. So, I think anything we learn from you can help."
Emma hadn't expected to be touched by the young brunette's compliment, but she was.
"Well, I promise to do my job." Emma made a little gesture at the bear claws and tilted her head toward the Deputy. When Granny came over and handed them both white paper bags, Lieutenant Blanchard spoke up.
"What's this?" The lieutenant looked in the bag and quizzically back at Emma.
"That is lesson number 2!"
"Ma'am?"
"A bear claw a day helps the law operate more smoothly and efficiently."
"It does?"
"Yep. Eat up! And use your fingers. No need to be dainty about it. We are rough, tough badass cops. You got that?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"We're badass."
"Bad… ass…"
"And stop calling me ma'am."
"Yes, ma…" Mary Margaret froze and rolled her eyes at herself. "I mean, Sheriff Swan."
"Eat up, Blanchard. You do like pastries, right?" That won Emma a genuine smile and she was pleased that the officer was cracking just a bit. Good. Mary Margaret seemed like she needed to relax.
Both women reached into the bags, took a bite and tilted their eyes upward at the flaky, sweet, frosted dough, catching a few almond slices as well. They both hummed in deep satisfaction before dropping the bear claws back in the bag, only Emma saw something else.
"Hey, Granny? What's this in my bag? I only ordered a claw but there's an APPLE in here."
"Yeeep," nodded the old restaurant owner. Granny wasn't just a nickname. She was an honest to goodness grandmother, who was probably close to 75. "Don't look at me, I didn't put it there."
"Who did then?"
In confusion, Emma searched her surroundings, but no one seemed likely the culprit. Blanchard speaking up beside her was a surprise.
"Regina did."
Excitedly, Emma looked around the dining room. "Regina Mills?"
"Yeah, she and Henry have apple trees in their backyard."
"And what, she carries samples around with her wherever she goes?" Emma was for certain she would have seen that beauty, hefting around a basket of apples, dressed to the NINES and showing off those damn ankles in those leg breaking heels of hers.
"It's not unheard of that she brings some in for Granny. It's actually really sweet of her."
Sweet, yeah… real sweet. I should thank her.
"Is she still…"
"No, she left. I saw her go out the back with Henry."
Emma sighed, then searched her bag and found a small napkin with handwriting. A note that said, "Sheriff Swan… PopTarts, root beer and bear claws? You need better nutrition in your life." That wasn't all she needed, Emma thought with a smile.
The corners of Emma's eyes wrinkled now, in the same manner as they did then, thinking about Regina's surprise. She'd thought several times about thanking her, but always got distracted with work. The crimes committed in Storybrooke were very different from Boston. There were still a lot of calls: petty theft, larceny, vandalism, the normal teenager hijinks, and domestic disturbance, to name a few. Also, cats in this town loved getting stuck in trees. Some calls she had gotten also bordered on the ridiculous. A werewolf sighting was called in a few nights ago as a prank, but some of the older residents still believed that a mystical creature lived among them. Even Eugenia Lucas' granddaughter, Ruby, had been accused of being a shapeshifting wolf by Walter, the hospital janitor. Only, Emma found out that he was just bitter because he had asked the beautiful long-haired brunette out, and she had turned him down.
Looking at the watch on her wrist, Emma found herself with a free moment. It took no time at all to get Regina's information for she had saved it onto her phone. The woman had no priors, not even a speeding ticket, and she lived on Mifflin Street, where some of the wealthier residents lived. And sure enough, Marital Status: Single.
Tapping the corner of her phone against her lips, Emma strategically thought of what her next move might be. She launched the message app and simpered as her fingertips made clicking sounds on her screen keyboard.
[- ]
"Thank you for my apple," the SMS message had read.
Regina stared at the phone on her dresser. Because she was still uncertain what to respond back with, she spun on her heel, turned to the burgundy business suit that hung on the outside of her closet door and ran fingers down the blazer's pristinely pressed lapel.
Every evening, since she was seven, Regina prepared the next day's outfit, complete with accessories. She was not obsessive about it, she just liked being ready the next morning. Of course, Zelena had often teased her about it when they were children. Regina had never let it get to her. She had always taken satisfaction in their mother chastising her sister every morning for being late to the breakfast table.
Glancing over her shoulder, she eyed the white-faced iPhone and chewed the inside of her lip, hoping-no-wondering whether it would go off with another message. Wondering. Yes, that's right. Regina thought to herself that she couldn't care less whether the Swan woman, er, Emma, would send her another SMS.
She blew out the breath she was holding, in puffed cheeks deflating, and collected the black, thin ankle-strap heels that she would wear. They were her favorite pair and would match perfectly with the jacket's black leather lapels and three-quarter sleeve cuffs.
Henry had done nothing but talk about Emma Swan for the past few days.
"Do you think Emma got our apple, mom? Do you think she even likes apples? Maybe she's more of a peach person."
"Do you think Emma knows Jujitsu, mom?"
"Maybe Emma can help us with the fallen tree in our backyard, Mom. Ask her. I'm sure she wouldn't mind spending lots of time to help us move it."
"I bet Emma doesn't eat yucky brussel sprouts."
"Wow! Emma's got a pickup truck, mom! Do you think it would fit in our garage?" Regina had thought that was an odd question and when she pegged him with a quizzical look, he said, "You know, for Friday… when she comes. On Friday."
There was suspicion of a sneaky motive behind a few of his questions, but Regina didn't want to fully acknowledge that because she did not want to think about what that might mean. She was much more comfortable with the idea that Henry may be forming a small crush on the town's new sheriff than wishing for a possible relationship between Emma and herself.
He wouldn't hope for that, would he? We've only just met!
Regina turned in exasperation, grabbed her phone off the furniture's top, and stared at the message again; the words swimming in the grey of the text message's bubble.
"Thank you for my apple."
What did that mean? The skin above her nose was caught between two heavy eyebrows. "Jesus, Regina. She's thanking you for her apple. It's nothing serious," she said scolded herself. Letting her arm drop, she used her free hand to palm her forehead.
Emma Swan was very attractive, to be sure. There was something fascinating and thrilling about that woman. Against her better judgement, Regina found herself completely captivated. She tried not to let on so when she was relaying Henry's heroic antics to Zelena and Cora the evening of Mal's party. Zelena could not stop laughing. There were actual mirthful tears that her sister had wiped away, wishing she had been there to see it. Cora and Zelena met Emma after Regina had left and were impressed with Storybrooke's latest resident. Of course, Regina had remained silent on the Sheriff's visit to her house this Friday.
The phone in her hand suddenly vibrated with a reminder notification and she nearly dropped it before activating it, hating the eager tremor that passed through her system, anticipating the message from Emma. She really needed to get a handle on herself before she did something embarrassing. Principal Regina Mills, daughter of Cora Mills, rarely did anything to embarrass herself.
"It took you long enough to…" She paused her typing, reconsidering for a moment while puckering her lips off to the side. "No. That sounds like Cora," she said to herself and backspaced.
"I take it you enjoyed it?" The blue vertical line cursor in her text box flashed back at her like a ticking clock. Did it sound a bit too eager? Like she was fishing for a compliment? "Don't be silly," Regina said to herself, and she sent the txt, waiting for a reply.
A long minute later, she set her phone back on the dresser, only to sweep it up quickly when it vibrated and dinged.
EMMA: I did. It was the best apple I have ever eaten. The juice to crunch ratio was PERFECT and far better than the average apple.
She was grinning from ear to ear. Despite the rather prim and firm exterior she displayed to the students, and sometimes the parents of the school, Regina plopped down on her bed with a bounce in the cotton 2-piece pajama set that Henry, and Zelena—she knew they were her son's choice but that her sister had paid for them—had given her for her birthday last year. It was black with golden Wonder Woman logos all over. She had thought it was a bit ridiculous but Henry was so excited to give it to her and had adorably told her that she was like a Super hero to him. How could she not wear them after that?
REGINA: I am an above average kind of woman.
Her head falling to the pillow, she frowned deeply at that. An above average kind of woman? Are you flirting, being insane, what? One thing was conclusive. She was losing her mind.
Regina was confident about all things except when it came to matters of the heart. She knew she was beautiful and appealing to others. If it was one thing that Cora Mills took pride in, it was that her daughters were stunning. Often, in their rearing, their mother had instilled the idea that a woman could attain anything if she had a sharp intellect, charm and good looks.
EMMA: Absolutely no argument from me.
Heat crept into her face, cheeks hurting from her wide smile.
REGINA: Would this be a rare occasion then?
EMMA: Well, that all depends… Will we have many exchanges in the future? Got to admit that I'm a bit hopeful here.
Well, there was no mistaking the intention in Emma's message. It brought an uncharacteristic girlish, titter from her lips.
REGINA: Hopeful is good. It's good to want things.
Immediately after sending, Regina sensed that she left a door open for a suggestive reply and was hesitant when her phone received the next message.
EMMA: Yes. Getting to know more about you, and Henry, is something that I WANT very much.
Oh goodness!
Though the statement was entirely truthful, Regina caught on to an interest of a something more in it, and she was conflicted. Her mind said "no", her heart said, "careful" and her body was screaming "hell yes!", a reaction she had never had. Not even with Mal had she experienced such a brazen reaction.
In the past few days, she had seen Emma from afar. Storybrooke was such a small town, and the Sheriff's station was in the central part of it. She spotted her crossing the street one evening and walking along the sidewalk with a coffee in her hand on a morning before work. It afforded Regina an opportunity to check out the town's newest law officer discreetly and she very much liked what she saw.
But was it too soon? She had just broken up with Mal, who had not stopped calling her in the evenings; which Regina deemed a bad sign. She suspected that Mal wanted to get back together and Regina was adamant to steer clear of that.
Snapping her out of her daze was another SMS from Emma.
EMMA: I'm looking forward to Friday. I haven't socially shared a pizza in a long time, so it'll be nice to sit down and have one with you and Henry.
REGINA: Yes.
Really? That's all you're going to message her back with?
She chewed on the side of her top lip as the phone made clicking sounds as she typed.
REGINA: We'll see you at 7. For dinner that is.
Ugh.
REGINA: Good night.
She had not wanted to end their conversation. Far from it, but she was feeling suddenly inept, which is never how she felt. Her Vice Principal and friend, David Nolan, called her an "ass-kicker who feared nothing!" She dealt with children for several reasons, varying from the very mild to the most serious of misdeeds, and confronted the manipulative parent daily! Yet here she was, feeling slightly scared because of a powerful, uncontrollable attraction to a stranger.
However, that would be rectified soon. Come Friday's end, Sheriff Swan would no longer be a stranger.
EMMA: Sleep tight, Regina. And pleasant dreams.
That night, as she pulled her bed covers back and slipped through them, Regina thought about how sweetly Emma had ended the conversation with pleasant dreams. If Regina had to make a bet, her dreams were going to be filled with a pretty blonde, complete with flashing dimples, green eyes and an unforgettable laugh.
