A/N: Slightly longer chapter, beginning with a little POV by Regina, followed by Emma's, then Killian's, and lastly Emma's again. This is definitely a very different writing style I am going for and I have to say, I am loving every minute of it. And the fact that you guys are equally enjoying it just warms my little writer's heart. :) Thank you all for being so awesome, and I hope you enjoy this chapter. I really love my portrayal of Emma in this story, she is definitely fun to write. And don't fret- her and Regina will meet soon. This is a SQ story after all.
God, why did investigations have to take so damn long? Here I was sitting in a police station with the same black skirt, white buttoned up shirt that was now stained with a few specks of Sidney's blood. And the same black heels which were now killing my feet.
I was just able to get home and I received a call from the police saying they wanted me to come in for questioning. God, what I wouldn't give to leave this town.
Here I am on my third cup of water offered by the detective assigned to babysit me as if I were some kind of child, and all that accomplished was my sensation to urinate become stronger.
Finally, I see another one of these agents in suit's showed up, walking toward the desk where I patiently waited for almost two hours. His hand unbuttoning the last button of his navy blue blazer jacket, revealing his matching tie before taking a seat before me.
"Ms. Mills," he glanced down at the report he dropped before his desk. "I'm special Agent Killian Jones, violent crimes and robbery. I'm sorry to have kept you waiting."
My sight looked toward a man dressed in khaki pants and a tucked in black polo shirt. He laid out a flat case which he then parted open, exposing more black padding inside of it. Must be for fingerprints.
"Derek here is going to take some elimination prints," I could hear him release a heavy sigh as he said this. He was obviously tired. So why not let me go home and call it a day?
Super. That'll make me feel less under pressure about the whole incident, I thought as Agent Jones instructed me, while he flipped through a few pages of the report.
"I see you've given a preliminary statement." I see him flip through more pages, which frankly was making me more and more nervous. You would even think that I had something to do with the crime that was committed at my job.
"I know this is hard, Ms. Mills," Oh, do you, officer? I restrained a chuckle from escaping my throat as he said these words to me. Because unless he was in the same situation I was in, left barefooted at the beach with his eyes blindfolded- he couldn't possibly know how hard it was. "But," his eyes, which I find out under the lights of the police station, that they were as blue as the beach I stood before. "I want to talk to you about your abduction."
This time his voice was soft as he used the word abduction. I was grateful for that.
"Okay," I nodded, seeing that was the only thing I could do. My head turned to the man- Frank- grabbing a hold of my hand, forcing my thumb out to take my print. I was still jumpy after the incident, and by the looks of it the detective here took notice of it.
"I understand they threatened you." He stated, looking over my earlier statement.
"Yes, that's right," I gave another nod. "One of them took my license." My eyes glared up at Frank as he pressed down on my index finger next, pretty roughly onto the page.
"Did you try to escape at any point?" He asked me, his blue sea eyes on me again.
"No." I stated matter-of-factly. My eyes turned to Frank again as he worked on my pinky next.
"Is there anything you can identify about these men? Anything you'd testify to?"
Was he serious? My mind was a complete blank. And even if I did remember anything, I wasn't stupid enough to say anything just so whichever one took my licence can find me and kill me.
"I didn't try to escape because they had guns." This time, my eyes glared directly at him as my tone was filled with what very little sarcasm I could muster.
"Of course, I understand." He slightly cringed, clearing his throat before quickly moving onto his next question. "So… They just… Let you go?" Once again his eyes fell on me.
"Yes," I nodded. "Should I have a lawyer here?" I ask, seeing the accusation in his eyes toward me.
For the first time since his questioning, I heard a chuckle escape him.
"This isn't a very civil libertarian things for me to say, but anyone who lawyers up is guilty." A single brow lifted off of him. "I think you're alright."
I couldn't stop my hands from shaking. They've been doing that ever since I was taken from the bank and shoved into the back of the vehicle those men drove. Detective Jones even seemed to take notice, his eyes glancing down at my trembling hands before him.
"When someone endures a traumatic experience like this, there are very often residual effects. It's going to be okay." He assured me, his eyes as soft as his voice, which in that moment, I wished for it to give me the comfort I needed.
"I know it's hard to remember everything right now, Ms. Mills," his voice was soft again. "But, do you remember anything else they might've said to you? Anything before dropping you off along the beach?"
I swallowed the lump in my throat, because I did remember.
"I- if you go to the FBI, we'll come to your house and we'll fucking kill you." I could feel my breath hitch as I could still hear a male's voice whisper those exact words to me before dropping me off at the beach.
Charlestown Flower Shop. You wouldn't think money was being washed down in the basement of the place just by looking at it.
"Hey, Maurice!" Robin smirked, walking through the flower shop's glass door. The bell hanging above alerting the man of our presence just as him and I entered.
The shop was small, covered in different types of flowers, which surprisingly- not a lot of people stopped to buy anything. I guess you could say no one had any fucking romance left in this stinking town.
Charlestown may be my home and where I grew up, but after a while it weighed on your shoulders.
Then again, I've never really been in love either, so- there's that.
"Hey, Robbie, how you doing, huh?" The older man smiled, setting aside the old broom in his hand to shake Robin's hand and pull him in for a hug.
"Ain't nothing's changed but the weather, you know," Robin smirked, clapping the man on the back.
"Hey, Emma," Maurice shook my hand next, to which I returned the gesture. "Come on in."
"Nah, we gotta run, but we came to drop off a little something," Robin flashed a wad of bills, wrapped up in a newspaper. A smirk stretching off to the side of his lip.
Who didn't love money, am I right? Just before we used any of it, we had to clean it first. That's where Robin's dad and Maurice came in.
"Hey, Frank! Your kid's here!" Maurice shouted, looking over his shoulder.
An older slender man stepped out from behind the attic door, moving around the counter with a proud smile to his face. Frank Locksley. Robin always went around saying what a piece of shit his father used to be, until Robin joined the family trait. Yeah- I'd have to agree. Frank was a piece of shit. In fact, if it wasn't for my father working for him for years, and Robin being his kid; there's no way I would ever trust him with a single bill.
"Hey, how's it going, son?" He smiled, the palm of his hand lightly smacking Robin's cheek in affection. I always thought that other than affection- he just missed smacking him around.
"Hey, pop," Robin's hand grabbed the man's wrist, his feet moving back. "It's going good," he said with pride in his voice. "We had a good day."
"Robin, we gotta go," I reminded him, my feet ready to get the hell out of there.
"We got this," he held out the wrapped up stack of bills toward his father, a proud smirk to him.
I see Frank's hand cup Robin's cheek once again, delivering two more light smacks against his face. Like I said, he missed getting to smack him around.
"Don't forget to pass it under the sink, huh?" Robin winked, and I could see an almost cynical smirk tilt up against the corner of his father's lip.
"I got it," Frank's voice was low, his eyes looked over to me. "Trust me," he told me.
He was no stranger to my feelings toward him. He knew I didn't trust his judgement, let alone his calls when it came to money. But what was I to do? He was Robin's father and the man knew his shit when it came to cleaning money.
Lastly, I provided him with a nod before walking out of the glass door with Robin, heading out into the night. The bell above the shop door ringing once again.
"Where are they? What are they doing right now?" My eyes looked at every agent in the room staring up at me. White boards with my own writing and papers taped onto it following the information on this case that we gathered in very little time flashing behind me. "They have the money, now they have to clean it. Right? That means, what? They'll probably go out to celebrate another victorious heist. That means bars, track races, strip clubs- you name it."
I could see heads nodding to my given instructions.
"BPD, DEA, I want tips, names, witnesses, anything," I swing my hand across the air just at my belt level. "I want us knocking on some doors, see who wants to help us out. Any questions? No? Great-" I clap my hands. "Let's get to work."
I turn my back on the group of scattering agents just behind me, releasing a heavy sigh. Thanks to whoever these professional robbers were, that meant that all my mornings from here on out was looking to be buried in a pile of endless paperwork. Followed by interrogating anyone I could get my hands on, who might know someone that might've been involved in this robbery. Or that might give us some type of hint as to who was involved.
And the fact that I only had more witness statements than anything else on whoever these deadbeats were- was just another headache added to my pile-of-shit list.
"Hey, Leroy," I clapped the smaller man against his back as I passed him sitting by the bar. He nodded his head at me and smirked. And by the lazy look in his eye, I could tell he was already three sheets to the wind.
The Black Tavern. We met here every once in a while, my boys and I. It was near our home. That's right. I never strayed farther than this part of town. Would I like to? Fuck yes.
But there was no time for that now.
"Hey," I near my boys sitting along one of the back tables, pulling out a chair for myself with its back to me so I could straddle it.
"Hey, Swan," Graham greeted me, raising his drink before taking a swig. August patted my shoulder while Robin nodded.
"Glad you finally got here," said Robin.
"Yeah, Robin here was just telling us the tale about your father." August said.
I glare at him with a slightly raised brow. "'Tale?'" I look over to Robin who was taking a drink of his beer, "What, is he fucking prince charming, now?"
Everyone joined me in a group laugh while I punched Robin's arm in a brotherly manner.
"Hey, all I'm saying is there was no one who could have pulled that heist job like David Nolan could," he held up a single digit. "No one. Am I right or am I right, Em?" He turned to me.
I nod quietly. I could feel a small smile coming on, but it wasn't quite there. I didn't mind talking about my father. Hell, I missed him. And the fact that he was now sitting in a jail cell with forty years added to his sentence was a heavy weight to carry over my shoulders every time his name came up.
You can always tell when people are looking at you with sympathy and that shit didn't fly with me.
David Nolan taught me all he could before he landed his ass back in jail again, I have to say I'm grateful for that. I think I'm able to fend for myself just fine on my own.
"Anyway," Robin raised his almost empty beer bottle, followed by August and Graham. "Here's to David Nolan- who, instead of giving up his friends said to the cop, 'Go fuck yourself.' And decided to do his time like a man."
"To David," Graham said, clinking his bottle with Robin and August's.
"To David," August toasted, repeating the same action.
"I'm dry- you want to bring us a couple beers back, Em?" Robin sat down the empty bottle before him.
I got up from my chair. They weren't asking me because of the fact that I was a girl, but hell, I needed a beer, too. Or maybe something stronger. So I figured, why not?
"Hey, bring an umbrella for my drink," Robin teased, a smirk to him.
"Yeah, bring me a shirley temple with a cherry, please." August laughed.
I smirk, shaking my head listening to their voice grow farther and farther as I make my way through the crowd and up at the bar.
"Three beers, Jimmy," I held up three fingers at the bartender.
"And for you?" He asked me.
"Nah, I'll have something strong tonight. Thanks." I shake my head as he nods knowingly at me.
He served my drink first. Jack Daniel's, straight up before placing one beer after the other in front of me. And while I was sitting by the bar, taking in the rich dark color of my father's favorite drink, I could see a silhouette out of the corner of my eye walking toward me. I didn't bother to look.
"Jack Daniel's?" I heard the familiar voice, taking a seat right beside me. I nod at her. "And here I thought you preferred the company of a good woman." She teased me now.
Did I ever. Everyone knew this about me- hell it wasn't a secret. Why hide it? I loved and craved the touch of a good woman.
"Would you like something else with that drink?" She leaned into me, lightly tapping her cigarette over my drink, and I caught a few ashes falling inside the liquid.
"Hey- what the fuck are you doing?" I move my drink away, my eyes glaring at her.
"What?" She smirks.
"Not in my drink." I take a smaller sip than the one before. You never want to go mixing cigarette ash inside your drink. Trust me. It's guaranteed to get you so fucked up, you won't wake up until tomorrow night.
"I'm just kidding, Em," she chuckled. "How's Robin?"
"Robin's, Robin." I shrug, taking in another sip.
Lily was not a bad looker. Yeah, we fucked around every once in a while, but that's it. She wanted more- I didn't. Like I said, I've never been in love before.
"What's this I hear about you…?" I place my index finger against one of my nostrils, inhale and I know Lily knows what I mean by the smirk forming across her lips.
"What, don't you miss it?" She asked me, her smirk growing.
"Come on," I can't resist rolling my eyes, nudging her hand away as she wanted to touch my hair. She had this thing with my hair, said it was soft or something.
"What?" Lily chuckled, flicking a strand of my loose hair with her perfectly manicured finger. "You think you're better now, is that it?"
My eyebrow raised, my eyes locking into her own.
"Don't forget where you come from, Em. What you are." Her voice was low.
Once born in Charlestown, you never forget where you came from. I was no stranger to blow, sure I tried it. Once. But never again after that. I was lucky my father was in jail at the time, or even he would have used his belt on me for even going near to what he always referred to as, 'that shit will rot your brain.' Followed by my personal favorite, 'You're my daughter. You're better than that. You always have to have a clear head.'
"I never forget, Lily," I turn back to give my attention to the last remaining liquor I had, gulping it down in one go.
"Good. And just remember, you aren't my daddy, although…" She chuckled, and I could feel her hand caress its way up my thigh. Slowly. "I can remember you loving that, too. I know I miss it. Don't you?" Her voice was a purr.
Our eyes met, her face was only inches away from mine. And I know- what she wants. Shit. Who am I to say no? Not when she's traveling her hand up my leg the way she was, ending in my most eager of places. If I were a guy, the evidence of how aroused I was could be clearly seen and felt right now. I'd be hard as a fucking rock.
Now, if you ask me, I personally love the feel of a woman wrapped around my fingers as I give her all I got. Lily? She loved the use of toys. But, that was more than fine with me. I don't know who else she's fucked that hasn't been me and frankly, I didn't care. Safer for me if I didn't use my hands for anything but grabbing onto her thighs and waist as she rode me. Or rather, the fucking strap on that I wore in between my legs at that moment.
Shit still felt good, and I loved the thought of giving a woman pleasure, even if it was just for a quick minute. Because that's how long it took her to come around me. Her hips rode me so fast, I could feel the stimulation between my own throbbing sex more and more to the point where our lips brushed against each other while our hot breaths mixed. The scent of whiskey lingering around us.
Our moans went from panting breaths, to low moans, to louder ones as we both came. My head threw itself back against my couch, my eyes rolling to the back of my head.
"Shit," I breathed out, drawing in a sharp intake of breath once Lily was off my lap, pulling her panties and jeans back up again.
"I'll see you around, Em," she murmured, zipping up her jeans as she walked out of my apartment.