Disclaimer: I do not own the Once Upon a Time franchise.

Chapter Three

Four Years Later

Emma pulled the straps of her red dress up and held her breath and she tugged on the zipper. "Momma. . ." She sat on the edge of the bed to put on her heels as Henry toddled into the room.

"Hey, baby!" She opened her arms, grinning when he pummeled into her legs. Reaching down, she pulled him onto her lap. He was getting so big. The last four years had flown by far too quickly for her liking, but they'd been good. She and Henry had stayed with August for a year, then they got their own apartment in his building. Since then, she and August had managed to move to a better part of town and they had their own bail bonds business. They were a great team and they managed to work their schedules out so someone was always with Henry.

"Uncle Auggie?" Henry asked, his brown eyes blinking up at her as he yawned. He'd taken to calling August "Uncle Auggie" early on and Emma thought it was sweet that August seemed to love it. He probably loved it because it came from Henry.

Chuckling, Emma nodded, "Uncle Auggie will be here in a minute with pizza. Momma has to work tonight." Henry's brown furrowed adorably at that, but the slamming of the front door distracted him.

Pushing off of her lap, he tripped over his own feet and his blue blanket screaming, "Uncle Auggie!" Emma heard August's deep voice reply and she smelled the pizza wafting through the apartment. It made her stomach rumble and she hoped he brought enough for her to eat later. She didn't usually get to eat on these honey trap dates she set.

As she was tugging on her heels, August appeared in her bedroom doorway with Henry, "Hey, Momma, you ready for work?" He let out a whistle as she stood, "Dang, you look good, Ems." August looked over at Henry, "Doesn't Momma look good?"

Henry tried for his own whistle, but failed before trying to repeat what August said, "Dan, you wook good, Wms." He repeated proudly.

Crossing the room, Emma caught his little hand in hers and pressed a kiss to the sticky palm. "Thank you, baby." She murmured, "And thank you, Uncle Auggie." She pressed a kiss to August's cheek. "I shouldn't be too late." She promised as she picked up her small purse, checking to make sure she had her cell phone and cuffs. "Momma loves you both very much." She gently ran her hand through Henry's hair. "I'll come check on you when I get home."

Reaching out, August tugged a curl of her hair around his finger, "You know what, Ems, I think I like the brown." She'd recently dyed her hair brown for a change. She'd always been a blonde, but it was kind of fun to do something different.

"Wove you, Momma." Henry murmured.

"Oh, I love you too, Kid." She couldn't keep the smile off of her face as she moved toward the front door. "Save me some pizza." She called out absently.

Emma left the keys to the bug with the valet, who eyed the red car with some disdain, before waltzing into the Binkley's Restaurant. She was a few minutes late, but that usually worked in her favor. It seemed to catch them off guard when she was a bit frazzled coming into a bar or restaurant a few minutes behind schedule.

Moving past the hostess stand, Emma made a show of looking around the room quickly and then glancing down at the delicate watch August had given her for her birthday, she secretly thought it was a way for her to look at watches in a better light. Looking up again, she noticed a nice-looking dark-haired man half rise out of his chair uncertainly. Gotcha.

With a little bit of practiced hesitation, Emma approached the table, "Greg?" She asked, allowing her voice to shake a bit.

He nodded and moved to pull her chair out. "Emma?"

Emma nodded and gave a light chuckle, "You look relieved." She pointed out.

"Well, you know it is the internet, pictures can be – "

"Fake, outdated, stolen from a Victoria's Secret catalogue?" She finished.

The man nodded and motioned to a waiter so she could order a glass of wine. Once it was in front of her, she took a sip and looked at her date expectantly, "So, Emma, tell me about yourself." Greg requested with an easy smile.

Emma set her glass down and pushed it back a bit, "Well, today is my birthday." It wasn't really, yesterday had been her birthday, but it was a great line to use on guys. In fact, she was going to use a very practiced spiel that at one point in her life would've been true, but now wasn't. Now she had Henry and August. Her life was very full at the moment, as was her heart.

"And you're spending it with me?" He looked at her questioningly as she nodded almost shyly, "What about your friends?"

Emma shrugged, "Kind of a loner."

"And you don't like your family?" He asked

"No family to like." She answered.

"Oh, come on," he gave her a charming grin, "everyone has family."

"True," Emma let the word drag out a bit, "but not everyone knows who they are. Ready to run yet?" She challenged.

Shaking his head, Greg reached across the table to give her hand a gentle squeeze as he replied, "Not a chance, you, Emma, are by far the sexiest, friendless, orphan I've ever met."

Emma let out a rehearsed shaky breath and took another sip of her wine. "So, tell me about you. Oh no, wait let me guess!" She held up her hands excitedly. When Greg nodded for her to continue, she did, "Let's see you're handsome, charming, successful – "

"Go on." He encouraged her, his eyes sparkling.

Emma nodded, "Now, stop me if I'm wrong, you're the kind of guy who embezzles from your employer and then skips town before they were able to throw your ass in jail. And the saddest thing is that your wife loves you so much she bailed you out once you were caught, and how do you repay her? You're on a date with me."

Greg swallowed hard and looked around quickly at her words, "Who are you?"

Leaning in slightly, Emma answered, "The chick who put up the rest of the money."

"You're a bail bondsman?" He asked incredulously.

"Bail bondsperson." Emma corrected. Before Emma could react, Greg stood up, flipping the table, causing both glasses of red wine to spill on her dress. "Really?" She asked no one in particular with a sigh. Moving swiftly through the tables, she caught up to him trying to get his keys from the valet. Rookie move. Without a thought, she grabbed the collar of his shirt and threw him up against the column by the valet station. The young valet was watching them slightly stupefied that the small brunette in the beat-up red car had a tall man who'd pulled up in a Porsche pinned to a column.

"Look, I've got money. I can pay you." He tried to bargain.

"No, you don't, and if you did you should give it to your wife to pay for your family." Emma snapped back.

"And what the hell do you even know about family?" He tried to take a dig at her, but it didn't work. She knew plenty about family.

Keeping a hand on him, Emma turned to the valet and tossed him her purse, "Go through the contacts and find Jeremy Harris. Call him and tell him I've got his bail jumper. And hand me the cuffs." She referred to the officer who she and August usually handed their cases off to. The valet fumbled with her bag as he moved to comply with her orders.

"That was nicely done." Emma's head jerked to the side as she snapped the cuffs on Greg.

"Excuse me?" She asked.

A tall and lean man with a mop of brown hair and a bright smile motioned to Greg, "Catching him. It was nicely done." The man moved towards her and held out a hand. "I'm Walsh West."

Emma looked down at the hand and then up at the man in a perfectly tailored suit with a nice smile and shining eyes. She felt her stomach flip a bit and she wasn't sure if it was entirely from butterflies. She was more inclined to believe that it had to do with guys with nice eyes and smiles being trouble. The last one certainly had been. "Thanks." She didn't introduce herself, instead she just pushed Greg down on a bench by the valet stand and accepted her purse back from the young valet before moving to stand in front of Greg, waiting on Jeremy to come get him.

"I don't get a name?" Walsh sauntered over to where she stood hovering over her mark.

"You didn't ask for one, and I'm not in the business of handing out my personal information to strangers." She snapped defensively. This guy was definitely trouble.

Digging into his pocket, Walsh pulled out his wallet and held out a business card. "I'm in town for a few more days on business. I live in Scottsdale." He told her, "I'd love to buy you a drink."

Reluctantly, Emma accepted the card from him, shoving it into her purse. "Not likely." She yanked on Greg's arm, "Cops are here. I'm handing him off and going home. Good night, Mr. West."

Emma closed her apartment door quietly, not wanting to wake Henry if he was already asleep.

"He went down about thirty minutes ago." Emma's eyes moved to the sofa where August was writing in a journal. He'd started writing a bit, she thought that he'd be brilliant at it and should be focusing on that instead of chasing down bad guys.

Taking off her heels, Emma set them by the door before moving into her son's bedroom to check on him. He was breathing soundly in his bed, sleeping deeply with a blue blanket August had given him when he'd taken Henry home from the prison infirmary clutched between his fingers and his latest fairytale book from the library between his legs. Reaching down, Emma picked up the book and set it on the nightstand and tugged the blanket up to his chin. She ran her hand lightly over his forehead and pressed a kiss there before turning and cracking the door shut.

"He's out." Emma chuckled softly as she went to change. "I'm going to put on something comfy and then I have to tell you about tonight."

August finally looked over at her and noted her stained dress, "I'm making a dry-cleaning run on Friday, you can just put that in the pile."

Emma called out a vague thank you before shutting her room door and stripping out her dress. When she came back into the living room wearing leggings and one of August's old t-shirts she found a beer and two slices of pepperoni pizza waiting on her coffee table, "Thanks." She picked up her beer and tapped it against his that was sitting on the table, "What are you working on?" She asked after she took a sip.

August looked up from his leather-bound journal, the one she'd given him for his birthday two months earlier, and grinned, "It's a piece on the revitalization work they're doing in our old neighborhood." Emma quirked a brow at him. "The Phoenix Harold is looking for a new free-lancer. I submitted some stuff I'd written and they said they'd like to see a piece on the work they're doing for the 'Community Section.'" He grinned widely at her, "My deadline is Wednesday."

Emma all but lunged at him, "August this is fantastic!" She gave a small squeal and left a smacking kiss on his cheek. "I'm so proud of you!"

He squeezed her back, "Thanks, Ems. It's just a start though. Who knows where it will lead." He set his pen and journal on the coffee table, "So, tell me about tonight."

Emma took a big bite out of the pizza and swallowed before rising to pick up her clutch that she'd left by her shoes. Opening it up, she tossed the business card at him, "This guy saw me cuff the mark and wants to take me out for a drink. Expensive suit. Winning smile. Probably trouble." She surmised.

August turned the card over in his hand before reaching for his laptop and typing in Walsh's name. After a few minutes, August turned the computer to face her, "This him?" At her nod he told her, "He's a real estate investor in Scottsdale. Looks like he's a big deal." He studied Emma's face as he asked, "Are you going to go?"

Emma picked up the card and ran her nail over the embossed name, "I don't know." She admitted. "I haven't been on an actual date since Neal." She tried not to cringe at his name, but she couldn't help it. Neal was still an open wound, though it was starting to scab over a little bit at a time.

August shrugged and set his laptop back down, picking up his beer, "I think you should go. You never know, he could be your very own Prince Charming." Emma snorted at the words, but considered them.

Two Days Later

Walsh smiled across from Emma at the Four Seasons restaurant. "I'm glad you called." He admitted.

Emma ran her finger around the rim of her wine glass, unsure as to why she was really there. "I'm still trying to figure out why I called." She finally admitted.

Walsh shrugged and took a sip of his scotch, "How about you tell me something about yourself and then I'll tell you something and we'll just have a drink, maybe two and then you can go home? No dinner, no bad intentions, just see if we like one another." He suggested.

Emma's brow furrowed at him. It couldn't be that easy. It was never that easy. "Alright," Emma finally conceded. "I'll start. I have a four-year old son. His name is Henry. I'm a bail bondsperson. I'm twenty-two years old and I'm originally from Boston."

Walsh seemed to process the information to provided him for a moment before giving her a disarming smile, "Well, Emma, I don't have any kids, I've never been married. I'm in real estate investment and I'm thirty-two years old. I was born and raised in Scottsdale and still live there. My granddaddy started the firm, then my daddy ran it, and now I'm running it."

Emma shifted a bit at that. This man was old money and she was no money. She wasn't sure what he wanted from her, but she was sure she couldn't give it to him. She couldn't even afford to bring the same air as him. She decided to opt for the full truth up front and let him walk out of the door and out of her life. "Well, I was an orphan. My parents left me on a highway outside of Boston and a boy found me. He'd been left behind by his parents. We spent a lot of time together in the system. His name is August, he's watching Henry tonight."

Walsh studied her for a moment, "Is he Henry's father?"

Emma shook her head, "No, he's not. Henry's father is someone else. He doesn't know about Henry. I don't even know where he is. He left me and I went to jail. August took care of Henry until I got out." She took a sip of her wine, "I'm not from your kind of life, Walsh." She murmured honestly. "And I'm honestly not looking to be a part of your world. I have a nice life, a good life."

He was hesitant, but he reached across the high-top they were seated at and lightly wrapped his hand around her wrist. He could feel her pulse speed up at the contact. "Hey, Emma, I'm not looking for anything in particular. And nothing you said scares me. I know we come from different worlds, but I think you're fascinating and incredibly strong and beautiful." He admitted quietly. "And I hope this isn't the last drink we ever have."

Emma was shaking slightly when she turned her hand over, letting their fingers lace together. She was surprised by how well he'd taken her confession. "Who knows?" She replied, "Maybe it won't be."