The Wooden Swan Cuckoo Clock

By Schroederplayspiano

Eight pm: You're Down The Driveway

Believe it or not, the jail in Storybrooke is nicer than the one at home. My previous statement is a compliment to my fellow dwarfs I'll admit it, but what the point of having talents if you can't use them to help people?

Even if the term 'helping people' really means making their prison experience horrible.

My prison experience is not horrible. It is quite the opposite, actually. How can I complain at all when, at this very second, the Sheriff is picking up a warm dinner for me and I have my favorite medical journal open beside me? I would never admit my enjoyment to anyone; despite what some people think, the dwarfs and I do not share all our secrets with each other.

Yet, the fact we know some of our fellow dwarfs' deepest secrets is how I ended up here in the first place.

"Doc." Princess Emma enters the room with her hands full. I automatically stand. I would stand if any lady entered a room or addressed me, but when it's Princess Emma, when it's the savior, I have no choice; and I wouldn't want it any other way.

"Your Highness," I greet her politely. She sighs. Her keys clunk on a desk after she places her bags of food down.

Bags of food? Why did she bring so much food into the police station? It is too much food, even for two, if she did bring dinner for herself.

Princess Emma takes a deep breath when she turns to me. Her right hand goes to her forehead to move some of her curls out of her view.

"Emma, Doc." She corrects me for the thirty-second time. "It's just Emma."

I feel like Bashful when heat creeps into my cheeks and I push my glasses further up my nose.

There is a twinkle in her eye and a warm smile breaks on her face.

"I'm sorry, Princess." I start. She approaches me, her boots tapping on the floor, with my dinner in hand. As it is eight o'clock, I won't deny I have been looking forward to dinner for two hours. Oh. No, no. It's not like that. Princess Emma was called off to an emergency just as she was taking my dinner order. "But, I could never call you by your given name."

"I don't see why not," Princess Emma hands me my dinner through the bars. "It only took twenty times of correcting them, but your other dwarfs call me by my given name, I don't why you can't."

"I'm a traditionalist." I smile at her. "I'm more proper than the rest of them."

"Ah," The Princess plays along. "So you're the gentleman of the group."

My warm smile widens at her words. She is charming, even more so than her father. I can't imagine the joy it would have been to watch her grow up.

Pushing the medical journal down my cot, I sit on the mattress and spread my food out on it. The greasy smell makes my stomach rumble as I pull out the burger, fries, and milkshake from Granny's. I take a napkin from the bottom of the paper bag. Unfolding it, I pick an edge of the square and push it down my shirt, ensuring ketchup-dripping protection.

It pays off to be close to the Sheriff's family; they give you good food in jail.

"Somebody had to be the role model for them," I say and then take my first bite of burger.

"I thought that was my Mom's job," the Princess retorts.

Her words make me choke on my burger bun. Once I've recovered, I look up to see the Princess shaking her head at me.

It's a tad humiliating.

"Wow. Something smells wonderful." My gaze darts to the station's doorway to find the Princess' fiancée, Pinocchio hanging on the vertical door molding.

"Hey!" Princess Emma stands to greet him. He uses the molding to rotate around her and pin the Princess against the wall with his body. He gives her a quick kiss and brushes a curl behind her ear. "I don't know if burgers and fries classify under a wonderful smell, but I'm glad you're hungry." The princess kisses the former puppet again before he lets her escape his entrapment.

"Ah," Pinocchio nods his head at me, acknowledging my presence. "If it isn't Storybrooke's newest thief," he says with a smile. I am not sure if he is kidding around or if he actual has resentment for the act I am doing time for. "Hello Doc," he says with a wink.

I raise my hand, showing him my palm in greeting. Pinocchio lets out a laugh; I am not sure if it is at my style of greeting or at my paper bib. Either way, I'm glad he doesn't seem to be upset. I wouldn't blame him if he was - realizing that the person basically we stole from is the closest person he has to a mother.

I close my eyes and shake my head. I can't add any more guilt to my conscious right now.

Pinocchio takes his seat across the desk from the Princess. It is strange that they picked the desk closest to my cell to have their dinner. I know Princess Snow probably asked her daughter to include me, but I am not sure that meant being me on as third wheel on her date.

Once Pinocchio is settled, finding a comfortable position in a cushioned chair and taking a sip of his soda, he says, "Henry did great today."

Princess Emma lights up at her son's name. "He did?"

"Uh-huh." Pinocchio says in between bites. "I don't know why you were so worried about it."

"I'm his mother. It's my job to worry."

"Emma." he says her name in a more demeaning tone than I think necessary. "My Father and I are sailors. Jiminy was with us. Nothing was ever going to happen to him."

"Pinocchio." Princess Emma mimics his tone of her name. "In your last sailing voyage you and your Father got eaten by a whale."

Smiling, Pinocchio levels the Princess with her eyes. "That was a just a good old boat, not a sailboat."

The Princess rolls her eyes at him and says, "Same difference."

"Very big difference, actually." Pinocchio takes another bite of burger, reminding me to do the same. "Whales don't like sailboats," He winks at her. "The mast is horrible to swallow. So, actually, you had no reason to worry."

"Just so you know," She tells him. "If I had actually been worried, my son would not have gone out sailing with your family."

I watch thoughts pass through Pinocchio's head, his eyebrows furrowing. "So, wait, let me get this straight: You don't trust your fiancée with your son."

Emma's lights up again, amused by his words. "That's not exactly what I said."

Pinocchio places his burger back on its paper bag. "So, then, what did you mean, Princess?"

A small laugh escapes her lips. "I had faith in you keeping my son safe despite your track record with water vessels."

Pinocchio crosses his arms, his eyebrows furrowing further. "That doesn't sound much better."

The Princess giggles a very un-princess like giggle and places her palm on Pinocchio's cheek. "I love you."

"Uh-huh," Pinocchio lets out, clearly annoyed. He tilts his head out of her touch and redirects his attention to his food.

There is silence in the police station again. Finally. It surprises how much I appreciate silence each time it falls upon my ears. It is like a breath of fresh air, like a sound of relief.

Noise of alleviation.

Breath of fresh air.

Yes, even if they are horrible, doctors can make jokes too.

It takes both the Princess and Pinocchio looking up at me from their food for me to realize I am laughing aloud.

Blood flows into my cheeks and I remind myself of Bashful again. I pick up my medical journal to cover my face. Touching my nose and too close to my glasses is an article entitled, "The Degrees of the Spectrum: Understanding Today's Biggest Medical Mystery." I'm grateful the journal covers my face, because now I am laughing and blushing at the same time – and that is simply the worst.

I hear Pinocchio's voice, "What's so funny, Doc?"

Then the Princess', "I know it can't be that boring medical journal, so whatever it is, spit it out."

My medical journal is not boring. Thank you very much.

I slam the journal flat on the mattress, which does not have the effect I was hoping for. My gaze falls on the Princess' and she holds it there; examining me as if laughing was some sort of crime.

The Princess breaks our contact to look at Pinocchio. They silently communicate – emulating the same posture and expression as they stand from their dinners to approach me at the same time.

Princess Emma starts, "I didn't know Doc, of the Seven Dwarfs, was known for keeping secrets."

Pinocchio follows her, "It must be a strain on you, keeping all these secrets: The funny jokes, the person you were stealing for, why you stole magic fairy dust in the first place," Pinocchio shrugs. "Why you're a doctor without a doctor's office."

Even though they are making fun of me, I know they are just kids having fun. They are making me uncomfortable, however. Standing, I push my glasses further up my nose and cross my arms, preparing myself for their further interrogation.

"Doc," Princess Emma says seriously. "I just want to help you. The sooner you tell me what happened, who you were stealing the mining dust, fairy dust, whatever, for, the sooner you can go."

"Technically," I remind her. "I am released in two days, so I don't have to tell you anything."

"That's true." The Princess confirms. "Or you could tell me what happened now and you could enjoy the rest of your night as a free man."

I remain silent.

"Huh." She smirks and turns to Pinocchio. "Dwarf loyalty. Who knew?"

I feel blood boiling under my skin. I step closer to the bars. "What makes you think I'm covering for another dwarf?"

Pinocchio points to Princess Emma, which is very rude. "She can tell when anyone is lying."

I look from half of the couple to the other. "Suddenly I understand why you two are together," I say and then hate myself. How dare I be rude to royalty? My heart drops. "I am so sorry."

The Princess does not acknowledge my apology. "I know you are covering for another dwarf because you were caught at midnight in a unlit driveway handing off a bag of dust to someone else. Dwarfs are the only creatures that find fairy dust. I asked you if you stole the dust and you lied."

"I told you I did not steal the dust and I didn't." I defend my actions. "We mined for the dust so it is technically ours."

Princess Emma crosses her arms. "You sure like your technicalities."

"Technicalities are everything to doctors." I tell her.

"Doc, magic dust is in short supply right now." Princess Emma states. "We can't have the dwarfs mining for the stuff giving it away."

"I understand that." I tell her simply.

She raises her eyebrows. "That's all you have to say?"

We stare at each other for a moment. The part of me begging me to please authority screams inside my head, but I can't make it happy.

Not this time.

With a short nod to the couple, I turn towards my cot, careful not to have my back fully towards a royal.

Sitting on my cot, I pick up my medical journal to cover my face again. Instead of its words screaming out to me, my eyes automatically shut. When they do, Grumpy's image suddenly appears.

If it weren't for him, him and his novice fairy, none of this would have happened.

A/N: I never thought I would write this but right now, Doc is definitely my favorite dwarf :)! Readers will be "enlightened" about Anna's condition in very special way next vignette (There might be a hint about it from Doc above, can you find it?). I'm so excited!