The blonde frowns as her somewhat fitful dreaming is interrupted by the soft slamming of a door. She tries to place the sound in her mind; not recognizing the metallic quality of the noise for the usual soft thumps heard coming from downstairs at Mary Margaret's. Opening a sleep-blurred eye, she takes in her surroundings with drowsy bewilderment until the previous evening comes back to her in a rapid blur of emotion.
Well, it's about fucking time...
But the light skip of the oncoming footsteps make them impossible to be those belonging to the Mayor; a stiletto beat so steady the darker woman surely has an internal metronome nothing like these scurrying little taps. She racks her brain as to who else might possibly have any business coming to the Station to pay her a visit and comes to one, horrifically obvious answer.
"Henry..."
Her mouth opens in shock as she feels her stomach flip nauseatingly. With the steps rapidly approaching, she does the only thing she can think of; she hides. Pulling the threadbare blankets up over her head, she holds her breath- as if this is the key to eliminating one's physical presence- and waits.
"Hey, Emma, I... Emma?"
She pulls the corner of the blanket slowly away from her eyes and peeks out as a familiar face regards her quizzically through the bars.
"Oh... Hey, Ruby..."
"Umm..."
The young brunette offers her a curious smile before turning around and taking in the rest of her surroundings. She deduces that they are alone- odd, as the cell door is clearly locked- and halts her observations when her eyes drop to the damning evidence that is one of the Sheriff's muddy boots lying forlorn beside the desk. She regards this item quizzically, before spotting a small swatch of blue hidden behind the bulky wooden table that can belong to nothing else but the cuff of the blonde's customary skin-tight jeans. She raises an eyebrow and turns her attention back to the blushing Sheriff with a smirk.
"Fun night?"
"Debatable."
Emma's cheeks glow positively scarlet as she attempts to sit up and simultaneously wrap the blanket around her scantily clad frame. Her heart is still beating much too fast after its scare of being found in her current state by her son, but she can feel it gradually beginning to regain at least some sort of regular rhythm. She drops her eyes from the waitress's, feeling disgustingly uncomfortable. Still, she doesn't know the younger woman particularly well, but she is on some level aware that the brunette is possibly favorable company if such a thing exists in this situation.
"So... Who is he?"
White teeth flash at her in a wolfish grin and the blonde is slightly taken aback by Ruby's brazenness. She glares up at the waitress, causing the young brunette to smile apologetically and lower her eyes sheepishly. Emma sighs and gets up to walk over to the cell door; wincing slightly at the ache in her thighs while pulling the scratchy throw around her like a robe.
"Can we not...My keys are on the desk there, do you think you could..."
Ruby glances over to where the Sheriff points and nods amiably, trotting over to the messy desk and snatching up the silver set of keys lying amongst the piles of paperwork. She bounces back and selects the smallest one; wrestling it into the lock and letting the door swing open. Emma hurries ungracefully past her and snatches her discarded clothes from the floor; bundling them into her arms and making her way quickly for the door.
Ten hours is a hell of a long time with no bathroom break.
The Sheriff wrinkles her nose as she studies herself in the murky bathroom mirror. Her hair falls about her face in a cornsilk nightmare while her eyes peer back at her pinkly from darkened sockets. She can make out a livid bite-mark on the pale skin of her throat, and upon letting the blanket she hides beneath fall to the floor, she discovers several more.
"Bitch."
She inspects the damage caused by the Mayor, and comes across a series of small bruises dappling her right thigh. She spreads her fingers and mimics their shape, finding her hand to fit the brunette's grip-mark perfectly. Sighing, she pulls on her slightly chill-dampened jeans and buttons them up fiercely. She pulls on her ratty tank top and shucks on her jacket before splashing a generous helping of icy water onto her face and rinsing a scooped handful of it around her mouth. Regarding the finished product, she sighs and pads defeatedly back to her office.
Ruby perches in the visitor's chair, eyes flickering about the room with burning curiosity. She looks up shyly as the Sheriff reenters, and watches with growing interest as the blonde lowers herself somewhat gingerly into the seat opposite her. Green eyes regard her with what is a pitiful attempt at nonchalance and she offers Emma her warmest smile in return.
She is no stranger to the awkwardness of morning afters.
Never had the Sheriff pegged for jail kink, though... Although I guess if that news article Sydney wrote was true and she picked up a liking for it then maybe I could believe it... Either way... Who knew?.. The little minx...
"So, umm... How can I help you, Ruby?"
The waitress quickly pulls herself from her pensive reverie and grins guiltily as Emma pulls her long hair around to cover the purple graze at her neck where she hadn't previously realised she'd been staring.
"Mary Margaret called and asked me to come check on you. She said she looked in on you just before she left as she didn't hear you come in last night, and got worried when you weren't there. She had to get to class, or she'd have come herself. Your phone's off so she called to ask if I'd mind popping round to see if you were ok... Three times."
Emma groans inwardly and pulls her cell from the pocket of her jeans. She presses several of the buttons defiantly, but the battery is well and truly dead. She sighs, and supposes she is peculiarly grateful that the schoolteacher hadn't been the one to find her in her sorry state; something about the thought of Mary Margaret knowing about her less than innocent escapade making her insides crawl.
"Damn. Well I suppose it's a good thing for me you let her pester you into checking anyway!"
Ruby grins companionably; glad to hear the Sheriff make a touching reference to the situation so that she knows where they stand.
"Oh, it's no problem, it's always nice to get an excuse to get out of the Diner for a little while. I told her you'd probably just fallen asleep at your desk, what with all the work the storm must have created."
She sweeps a hand towards the papers that litter the desk between them to emphasize her point. Emma smiles back shyly before fanning her fingers out on the desk, appearing suddenly engrossed in them as she avoids eye contact.
"Maybe, uh, you could still tell her that?"
The blonde looks up, startled, as a red-nailed hand folds warmly over her own; still not quite accustomed to the waitress's touchy-feely tendencies. The brunette offers her a winning flash of bright white teeth and uses her free hand to mime zipping her painted lips shut.
"Your secret's safe with me, Sheriff!"
Emma finally breaks into a more genuine smile and the younger woman returns it with another of her own, giving her a nod in farewell and rising to leave. When she reaches the door she halts suddenly and presses a palm to her forehead.
"Oh damn! I was going to bring you coffee and I completely forgot!"
"I think I may owe you enough gratitude to overlook it, Ruby, even with the onset of caffeine withdrawal."
She widens her eyes seriously at the last part and Ruby giggles pleasantly and promises to stop by in the afternoon with lunch and an extra large cup of mocha.
"Later, Emma"
"See you... Oh, and Ruby... Thanks for...You know..."
She casts her gaze pointedly over towards the recently vacated cell and the brunette shrugs her shoulders; pulling her impossibly tight midi-top even higher.
"It's no big deal... Now try not to fall asleep at your desk again!"
She throws the blonde a wink and offers a small wave of her fingers as she disappears through the door. Emma briefly ponders just how anybody can be so overtly chirpy and harmlessly flirty at what must surely still be relatively early on in the morning and decides she will simply accept the fact. Gratefully.
She also makes a mental note to leave a handsomely generous tip the next time she stops by Granny's for hot chocolate.
Emma balls up the grease-blotted wrapper from her finished toasted cheese- delivered by Ruby a short while ago, as promised- and throws it into the wastepaper basket in the corner with expert precision. She gives a small tip of an imaginary hat to no one in particular in response to this feat of exquisite athleticism, before returning to the property-damage report in front of her.
She sighs theatrically when the phone rings, hoping it will be Mary Margaret simply calling to chat- and possibly to sneakily check that she's alive and breathing for herself- but knowing it is more likely to be Miss Ginger chasing her up on what she plans to do about the damage to her kitchen window. Again.
"Sheriff's station, Swan speaking?"
She waits impatiently as the line remains silent, before a telling click lets her know the call has been disconnected.
"Well, fuck you too then!"
The Mayor places the phone delicately back in its cradle and returns to the floury dough she has been kneading ruthlessly with what can now, finally, be called her full attention.
She refuses to believe that her first two attempts at baking this morning ending in disaster- despite the recipes being almost second nature- while the third now finally seems to be taking shape is anything but pure coincidence.
Her dark eyes fall irritably down to her coat and bag which sit patiently on the table as if in preparation to go somewhere. As if she was perhaps thinking of making her way down to the Sheriff's station to make sure the young blonde had found her way out of the jail cell.
True, she is mildly curious how Emma has managed to pull this off.
True, she supposes she had been mulling over who would save the Savior.
She had been curious, yes. But concerned?
No, not concerned. Surely not.