Okay so I am still flying high about all the cuteness that is Colin and JMo at SDCC. But I wanted to get another chapter up for all the wonderful people who have commented, followed, faved, liked, or given this story kudos. I am so in love with the ideas I have for it that I can't wait to work on it each day.

There isn't much Captain Swan in this chapter, but the plot moves forward and an important scene happens. The scene between Mary Margaret and Emma was one of my favorites to write. I hope you enjoy!

"I've got a favor to ask," Emma said as Robin and John left the station to meet David at the courthouse with a few files a judge had requested. Graham and Emma had been left alone with a small call volume and as far as the blonde deputy was concerned, a lot of dead ends in her search for Anna.

"I suppose I owe you as much," Graham said, leaning back in his chair so far that the hinges groaned. "What can I do?"

Biting her lip, Emma looked at the files on her desk and the hand truck of four more boxes that had been brought in that day. "I need a sounding board on this case. I'm going in circles. It's nuts."

"Ahhh," he said, as if he didn't know what she had been working on for days. "I suppose I could take a look. But you and David are a bit better at the missing persons cases. I do more good with some of the criminals and talking them down." He was right, as his experience was more in terms of negotiation than it was in finding the lost. "Give me one of the files."

Her top teeth dented her bottom lip. "We shouldn't…"

He looked toward the empty and dark office that was assigned to David. "You don't want anyone to know you asked for help."

"I'm awful?"

"No, you're concerned about your career. And frankly with good reason. I don't need David saying how I take control of other people's responsibilities. No big one. Why don't you come over this evening and we'll have go at these files. I'll even spring for a beer or two."

She knew that he had been living at Granny's lately, his latest relationship having gone bad and leaving him without a home for the moment after she had commandeered it and destroyed most of his belongings. "Sounds good." She looked up at the clock and smiled with a hopeful glint. "One more favor?"

Running a hand over the lower part of his face, Graham widened his eyes to ask her what she wanted now.

"I kind of have lunch plans? Could you watch things here until…"

"If I want to be in charge, I suppose I should be comfortable enough being the lone deputy for an hour or so. Go have lunch with that man you're seeing."

***AAA***

"You don't even like the chili cheese fries," Emma said, stealing one off of his plate and wagging it in front of him before biting off a bit.

"But you do," he answered, taken aback by her reaction to his simple statement. She scooted closer to him on the shared bench in the corner of the diner, having shocked him when she passed over the empty one across from him and huddling in next to him with her head on his shoulder as they had waited on the food.

She knew that Granny was probably rolling her eyes when he lifted another of the sloppy fried potatoes and lifted it to her mouth to feed her. She would have rolled her eyes at such a display from any other couple, but he made those kinds of gestures feel real and normal.

"I thought you had a meeting this morning," she said, confused by his laid back attire on a day when he was supposed to schmooze clients.

"Aye, earlier I was to meet with the sheriff and mayor, but it was postponed," he shrugged. "Allowed me to sleep in a bit."

"Lucky," she said, running her cheek along the sharpness of his shoulder. "I wouldn't mind a late morning." She stilled for a moment, thinking about the idea and realizing that she still had not asked him why he had been looking as though he had not slept a wink. Lifting her head off of his shoulder, she reached up to smooth her hand over his face, feeling the contrast of the smooth skin with the prickle of his stubble. "You need more sleep."

"Just some pressure at work keeping me up," he admitted in what he hoped sounded like a casual tone. He rolled his lips over his teeth and gave a tight smile. "My company and bosses would very much like me to close the sale to the city on the rescue vessels and equipment. It's a substantial profit to them, but with the investigation into the funds that have essentially disappeared and the idea that others have been misappropriated…well, the mayor and sheriff are a bit more reluctant now to make such a purchase."

Emma shifted uncomfortably. "So you're under pressure to get that sale complete?" She knew that she had not been all that supportive of the sale that would make life easier for him, as it would take money away from her own ideas for better needed equipment. However, she was aware of David's priorities and how that equipment would help the residents and visitors.

"Aye, but I would never jeopardize anyone's standing or reputation over a commission," His arm that farthest from her reached for his coffee and he sipped from the cup. "The sale is not the end for my superiors. If I was to close it today, they would be after me about something else tomorrow. Another client, another upgrade, another sale. It is a never ending cycle, love." Rolling his neck in a slight stretch, he sighed. "I imagine it is a bit like law enforcement. No matter how much you work toward your goal, there is always another case that needs your attention. It is never just over and done."

"You're right on that," she admitted, her head falling back to his shoulder as she glanced at the glowing clock above the counter. "I should probably be getting back. I've got a ton of background to finish on this missing persons case." She exhaled sharply through her nose, pulling away from him and reaching to grab her bag at the same time.

He stopped her, grabbing her wrist and puling slightly until she looked back at him. He brushed his lips against hers in a chaste kiss that would not send Granny after them for an inappropriate display in her diner. "If you need my assistance, love, I'd be happy to lend a hand. I may not be as skilled as you in this field, but I've watched a few episodes of Law & Order."

She giggled, a sound he could appreciate since she let herself be carefree so rarely. "I think I'll stick to the professionals on this one. You go sell a boat and I'll find this girl and her fiancé. We'll compare notes later?"

He grinned. "Perhaps tonight? We could watch some of those crime show reruns and you could tell me how wrong they are?"

She looked genuinely apologetic, reaching out to smooth the lines near his eyes that appeared as he smiled. "I'm afraid I've got some work to do on the case this evening, but maybe a raincheck?"

***AAA***

"I've got nothing in these files," Emma admitted reluctantly as she pushed the dust and water stained box across the table. "I swear that woman and her fiancé just disappeared. It's like they haven't even existed."

Graham nodded, his eyes scanning another set of photographs from the art gallery event. "Are you sure that Elsa said they were at this event? This newspaper ran two whole pages of photos of every important person you can imagine. No sign of anyone named Anna or Kris. I mean look at this." He tossed her the pages. "There is Mr. Nolan, Mr. Gold, Belle, even Regina. All the movers and shakers in Storybrooke are in these photos, but there is no sign of this Anna woman."

Emma frowned deeply at the black and white images of beautiful people dressed to the nines and posing with champagne in hand. Her eyes lingered on one shot in particular with a bit of sadness that she tried to mask with a look of concentration. "I didn't sense that she was lying," Emma said slowly, her finger coming to rest on the text below the photograph she was studying so hard. "Maybe Anna and Kris weren't there at the same time as this photographer?"

Huffing at the suggestion, Graham rolled his eyes. "You know these society types. They can sniff out a publicity opportunity a mile away. If they were there with the photographer, I have no doubt that Anna and her fiancé were jumping in front of the camera with the rest of them."

"I just don't get the sense that Elsa was lying," Emma repeated distractedly.

"Oh right, your super power. You can't give us the lottery numbers, but you can tell when someone lies." It had been a joke around the station for as long as Emma had been there, but if any of them stopped to think, her ability to discern truth from lie was quite adept. She had developed that talent at an early age, determining that most people lied to her when other would assume their innocence.

"Let's look at the list again. That list of attendees. I feel like we're missing something." She pushed aside the newspaper pictures, just out of Graham's reach so that she could reference it again.

Graham's mouth opened a bit and then shut again as he realized the sincere desire for her to find this information. "Have you considered the romantic rivalry angle on this?" he asked, resting his chin on a hand and supporting himself on his elbow. "I'm not sure of this Anna or Kris's past, but it is likely they may have had some relationship, tryst, or liaison that might have not ended well?"

Emma leaned back in her chair, one of the wooden deathtraps that Granny used to furnish each of the rooms. The heels of her hands were pressed into her eyes. "I'll see if I can find out. I know these two were together for a while."

Graham stood from his seat and pulled another beer from the cardboard container on the dresser. "Another?"

"Should we really be having beers while we're working on this case?" she asked, holding her hand out for one that he placed there. "But thank you."

"You just asked that because it is the proper thing to ask. As for a drink? I think they can be helpful at times. Perhaps it might help us to see from a different perspective."

She sipped from the lukewarm bottle and continued digging through the files with him. They made a few notes and observations, but there were no breakthrough moments or discoveries. Two of the boxes had been completely searched, cataloged, and deciphered with the third one mostly complete when Graham let out a loud yawn. It was his third in the last 20 minutes. Guiltily, Emma stood and dropped the lid on the box. "I should let you get some sleep. You've got work tomorrow too. And the debate…"

Exhaling sharply, he lifted his tired eyes up to see her standing there. "I don't mind helping you with this, Emma. It's what friends do." His fingers laced behind his neck. "Though I wouldn't object to a little sleep. Are you alright to drive? Should I call a cab for you? That boyfriend of yours?"

"I'm fine," Emma assured, him, throwing on her leather jacket that seemed to be a permanent fixture of her wardrobe during this time of year. "I'll see you tomorrow, okay?" She circled the table to where the boxes were stacked and began to shuffle them back into place.

"Leave them," he said. "I'll try and have another go at them in the morning."

She headed down the dimly lit stairs toward the side door that would take her to where her car was parked. The older wallpaper needed changing, but it was solidly glued in place and Ruby joked that someday it would probably circle back to being in style, though by then it would probably have faded too much to see the pattern. Not wearing gloves, she shoved her hands into her pockets, feeling the cool of her cell phone there and toying briefly with the idea of texting Killian.

He'd ask her over or offer to come over himself, she realized as she dug into the other pocket for her keys. While the idea wasn't all that bad, she was not sure she wanted to do that. It was becoming familiar and comforting to be with him. And while it did not scare her as it used to, it was not something that came naturally to her. She hated that it now felt out of place for the other side of her bed to be cool or that his scent still lingered on her sheets and she supposed hers on his. She enjoyed their time together, but the time apart was becoming increasingly absent of her once fierce solitude that she had equated with normal. Part of her wanted to see if that side of her existed under the romance and softness that Killian provided her.

She was in her car before she remembered the folded newspaper in her bag with the photo that she wanted to look at better by herself. Using the streetlamp was not a good idea, so she drove the few blocks toward her apartment and resisted unfolding it until she was sitting there in her living room. She was sure she recognized the dark haired male standing next to the mayor. His features were familiar, especially the crooked smile and the shape of his eyes.

Swallowing hard, she traced the shape of his face with her finger. If she stared long enough, she knew that time would go backwards to a day when she was still a teenager and those eyes had seemed so safe and warm. The sobs that she wanted to hold back burned in her throat as she pulled out her phone and called the only person she knew who could answer the questions for her.

A groggy voice answered with concern and little annoyance for the late hour of the call. "Mary Margaret?" Emma asked, as if someone else might have picked up the teacher's cell phone. "I need to talk to you. Could you come over? Or I could…"

There was a muttered conversation in the background between the brunette and David before she returned to the line. "I'll be right there."

***AAA***

Emma closed the flap on the envelope and fastened the metal prongs to secure it tightly. She knew that nobody she invited into her home would bother to look at the scraps of paper and photographs held inside there, but she felt a bit better with the closure secure and her secrets hidden inside. Secrets, she thought with a wry laugh. She had very few of those left after Killian had seemed to open her up and accept her for just who she was now.

"You've never looked at them before?" Mary Margaret asked. Her voice was gentle and rolling as she cocked her head to the side and waited patiently for an answer.

"I knew that Regina is his adoptive mother. We've never talked about it per se, but she sends me updates and photos of him once a year. I just never…"

"Opened them? He's going to have questions someday," Mary Margaret said, her right hand curling around a warm mug of tea. "I mean you have questions about your own parents. I have questions about my mother and I at least knew her for part of my childhood."

Emma had held this debate with herself for years. Someday it was possible that her son would want to know about her or at least why she had chosen to not raise him. She could not blame him for that. It was one of the reasons that when her son's adoptive mother had suggested keeping at least some of the communication open that she had agreed, albeit reluctantly. That communication was limited. A letter and photographs once a year from her and Emma wrote letters to him every birthday and special occasion that were boxed away for when and if he was ready to see them.

"I wonder if all this was the right decision," Emma admitted, the tips of her fingers tapping on the brown paper casing. "Not the adoption, but this idea that I can be in communication with him. It's hard. The older he gets, the more I wonder…"

The teacher looked sympathetically at her friend, knowing that she had few answers for her. The adoption had not been an easy process. And living in the town where the boy was growing up made it even harder to ignore that any of this had taken place.

"I know you have never asked me what I know," Mary Margaret said, her spine straight and her legs curled to the side of her as she continued to sip on the tea. "He's in my class this year." She paused as she let Emma process that news.

"You didn't tell me that," Emma answered quietly. "I thought…"

"You have a stack of these envelopes that you aren't even opening. You won't even say his name. I don't think that I was wrong to not tell you that the boy is in my class."

Emma nodded, knowing that her denial of things had helped her get through more than one tough moment. "What's he like?" she asked. "What's Henry like?"

"Smart," she said quickly. "He's funny, cute, and very smart. He has a great imagination. He loves to read. And his writing is above grade level. I could see him…I could see him doing something with that talent someday." She reached her freehand out to touch Emma's forearm. "Are you okay with this?"

Emma nodded, worrying her lip between her teeth. "He sounds like Neal."

"And you," the teacher said softly. "He's a lot like you."

She wasn't sure how to take that, as she had always imagined her son with the traits that she lacked. She had wished for him a better life and a stronger family. She wanted him to have a good life that was filled with friends and love. She wanted him to have adventures and knowledge. But the ideas of him had always been nebulous. She had avoided those pictures of him because she preferred her vision of him in her mind's eye, not the reality. "Thank you," she muttered to her friend, knowing that Mary Margaret had been holding this in too. She had held it in to protect Emma, a fact not lost on the blonde.

"I'm so sorry that you have to go through this," she said, "but I do think you've made the right decisions. Emma, he's happy. He's healthy. He has a good life."

"That's all I can ask for, right?" She leaned his head to the side against the back cushion of the couch as Mary Margaret shifted closer, holding her arm over her friend's shoulders. They didn't say anything more about her son or the picture staring back at them.

***AAA***

Emma was later than usual the next morning when she left to go to work. Her hair dryer had not worked. She'd had to change her shirt after an incident with the travel coffee mug and the lid that didn't close. And she had tried for 10 minutes to find the back of her earring only to find it on the coffee table. Harried and hurrying, she had run out to her car without realizing that she had gotten no good morning text from Killian, though it had become their custom. He even sent them if she was in one room and he was in another, telling her that she brought out his cheeky side.

She was answering a call about graffiti when she realized she had not heard from him. Stranger still was the way the woman who had made the call was staring at her. There was a knowing look about her, a sense of condescension when Emma mentioned calling one of the other deputies to see if he might have answered a similar call recently.

Her entire morning seemed to go that way, but she tried to ignore it. Pulling into her spot in front of Elsa's large house, she checked her hair in the mirror and rushed up the steps to try out the questions about past relationships as Graham had suggested. She wasn't sure why the thought had not occurred to her before, but she was glad for the idea now. It made sense, which meant she had to follow through.

The housekeeper led her not to the formal living room from before but a wood paneled office that had clearly belonged to the girls' father prior to his death. There were few touches from Elsa, as most of the photos were of the man himself with various celebrities and politicians. Emma sat there in one of the red leather guest chairs, her hands folded in her lap.

"Sorry to keep you waiting," Elsa said, entering the room. She wore a severely tailored suit, but its light blue color seemed to soften it a bit. Her long hair was almost white with its blondeness and was braided tightly into a bun at the base of her neck. "I had something to take care of."

"That's alright," Emma said, offering a cautious smile. "I had hoped to ask you a few questions about Anna's relationships. I know that she is engaged to Kris, but prior to that? Were there any previous boyfriends or lovers?"

Elsa's brow furrowed as she considered that possibly someone her sister knew and had loved could have done something to her. "My sister had previous relationships, but she was…she was on good terms with most all of them." She motioned to an older woman to place that same silver tea service from before. The older woman moved with efficiency and care, pouring them both a cup and only speaking to ask Emma about her preference for sugar and lemon.

She waited for the woman to leave them alone again before she spoke. "Most but not all?" she asked, picking up on the other woman's wording. "There is someone who…"

"Emma," Elsa said, her voice sharp on the familiar name. "My sister is a loving and caring woman. She is neither frivolous nor cold in her dealings with people. Everyone loves and adores her. I can assure you that none of her past relationships would result in anything sinister. She has good tastes."

"Of course," Emma said, reminding herself that insulting the missing to the family was not a good move. "Can I ask about the event at the art gallery? I have been looking at the news coverage and didn't see any photos of your sister or her fiancé. That struck me as a bit strange." She chewed on the inside of her mouth as she waited for Elsa to answer. The woman before her seemed to never answer without careful thought and consideration. She wasn't so much calculating as careful.

"Emma, I wish you wouldn't pretend that your attention is focused on my sister. I know it isn't. You must realize that today's article certainly wasn't flattering to you or to Deputy Graham."

Emma shook her head. "Article?"

Looking a bit annoyed at Emma's unwillingness to defend herself, Elsa reached into a basket on the corner of the desk. Pulling a newspaper out, she unfolded it and laid it on the desk with precision. "This one," she said.

Emma felt her throat constrict as she saw the picture of herself and Graham from some work function the year before on the front page. Next to it was her own mugshot. Her eyes skimmed the words, seeing allegations that she was having a relationship with him and that the two were involved. It did not directly accuse her of stealing the money, but insinuated that she had opportunity and a history of such things.

"Should I be worried?" Elsa asked calmly. "I need a professional to help me find Anna and Kris. I don't need someone who is going to be distracted about saving her own skin."

Thoughts?