A/N: I know, it's been forever, I'm so sorry! Thank you so much for your continued reviews and your inquires. Hope you like this chapter!

Summary: Captain Swan meets True Blood, starring Killian and Graham as vampires and Emma as the small town sheriff that gets sucked into their crazy world.

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Chapter 7

She walked down the stairs, the normally creaking steps remarkably silent. It was pitch black, but there was a glow from the basement that lit her way, and when she finally landed at the bottom, she saw that it was him. Killian stood motionless in the center of the room glowing dimly as all the vampires Emma had met did, and Emma crossed towards him, her bare feet not registering the coolness of the concrete floor.

He said nothing as she walked towards him, but his blue eyes followed her every movement intently. Emma stopped right in front of him, scant inches separating their bodies. She tore her eyes away from him and down to his bare chest. Her fingers came up to trace across the healed gashes, now only faint, white lines on his already pale skin. Her eyelids felt heavy as she peered up at him, hands resting on his chest. He smoldered down at her, using one hand to cup her cheek, and she leaned into it.

Their faces moved closer and closer until finally their lips touched, and Emma's eyes fell closed as she rose on her tiptoes to deepen the kiss. He tilted his head, slanting his mouth over hers almost possessively, the pace of their kiss quickening. His fangs slid down, and Emma ran her tongue along the point of the nearest one, reveling in his groan of pleasure. Her hands moved up his chest, one locking itself around his neck, the other gripping tightly to the hair on the back of his head.

He drew away from her, and Emma followed, lips seeking out his, but opening her eyes when she was met with nothing but air. His eyes searched hers, unfiltered desire swirling in them, and whatever he found must have satisfied him because in the next second he was hauling her up and setting her on top of the washing machine. He parted her thighs and stepped into the space as if he belonged there, and her legs curled around him like maybe he did.

His gaze ran over her, and Emma felt a lick of heat run down her spine, her core pulsing as he rolled his hips into hers. She moaned at the sensation of him thrusting right where she wanted him, and he pulled her closer, swallowing her moans with his lips, one hand gripping her waist and the other in her hair. She sighed into his mouth, eyes falling closed again, letting herself get lost in his touch.

Killian's lips fell away from hers and she whimpered, practically clawing at his back in an effort to erase any space between them. He chuckled against her skin as he dragged his lips across her jaw and down her neck, suckling the skin along her pulse point. He breathed in deeply and practically purred, and Emma could feel the restraint he was exerting to keep himself from doing what he wanted most. She ground her center into his erection shamelessly, feeling the tension rise in her as well.

"Do it," she breathed, cocking her head to the side. "Do it, I want you to."

He pressed a chaste kiss to her neck before plunging his fangs into her. Emma cried out in both pleasure and pain as her orgasm ripped through her. The pulls of blood leaving her body only heightened her ecstasy as her core pulsated as he continued to suck. He thrusted his hips into hers until his thrusts became more sporadic and he finally came with a groan, retracting his fangs from her skin and pressing his face into her shoulder.

Emma ran her hands soothingly through his dark hair, holding him to her. He raised his head after a few moment, licking her wounds to heal them before kissing a path up to her lips. She could taste her blood on his lips as he placed an almost reverent kiss on her mouth.

"Thank you."

Emma awoke with a gasp. She was alone in her bed, and a quick glance at her windows told her it was early, the sun only just risen. Her hand rose to her lips. A phantom touch lingered as if Killian's lips had been there only moments ago like in her dream.

Emma groaned, head landing on her pillow. The dream had felt even more real than the previous one. She supposed she only had herself to blame for that. Giving Killian her blood had indeed deepened their bond it seemed. Maybe she should have heeded Graham's warning.

Her cheeks warmed as she thought of Graham; kissing Graham on the couch, kissing Graham up against the door to her bedroom, kissing Graham on top of the very bed she was laying in. They hadn't gone any further than that, not that Emma hadn't wanted to, but she could hardly keep her eyes open after the day she'd had. And she was also only too aware of her son sleeping down the hall. Graham understood though, pulling away with one last toe curling kiss.

"I owe you a date when this is all over," he'd said, sitting up on the edge of the bed, and she'd heard a soft click as he retracted his fangs.

She'd followed, smoothing her hair down from where he'd had his fingers knotted in it. "Looks like you do," she'd replied with a smile.

Maybe that was why she'd had the dream, Emma thought. She'd already been pretty keyed up before she'd fallen asleep. That didn't explain how real the dream felt though, and she touched her lips again.

With a groan of frustration, she pushed the covers back and slid out of bed. In the living room, she turned on the light and surveyed the room. It was exactly the way she'd left it, and she straightened up the rumpled pillows on the couch before tiptoeing over to the basement door. She cringed as the door squeaked, but pressed on, flicking on the overhead light. As she descended the stairs, she felt a flutter of anticipation in her stomach, but it disappeared the minute she stepped onto the basement floor.

Killian was gone.

Her eyes darted to all four corners of the room, as if he were hiding behind her boxes of Christmas decorations. The tarp he'd been lying on was folded neatly on top of the washer and dryer, but other than that, there was no trace of him.

Something akin to disappointment ran through her, but she did her best to stifle it. Killian was gone; that was a good thing. It meant he was well enough to leave, and honestly, having him around would have probably been more trouble than anything.

Emma sighed and started back up the stairs, turning the lights off. She returned to bed, figuring she could do with more sleep, hopefully without the dreams this time. As she drifted off to sleep though, her lips tingled, and she thought not of Graham, but of Killian and his phantom kiss.

"Mom! Mom, wake up!"

Emma's eyes popped open, suddenly alert. "Henry?" she asked, throwing back the covers and jumping out of bed.

"Finally," her son said, standing in her doorway, looking no worse for wear, which eased her rapidly beating heart. He held out the house phone to her. "Aunt Ruby needs to talk to you."

Emma grabbed the phone from him, rubbing sleep away from her eyes with her free hand. "Ruby, what's up?"

"Emma, turn on your TV," came her friend's anxious voice.

Emma's stomach seized up with dread, but she hurried into the living room, Henry hot on her heels. The TV came to life with a push of a button.

"Put on Channel 4."

Emma did as she said, and her jaw dropped.

"Is that our house?" Henry asked, incredulity colouring his voice. He made to go over to the windows and pull back the curtains, but Emma took a firm hold of his wrist, keeping him with her.

"If you're just tuning in," the newscaster said over the Live feed, "We're following the developing story of the death of prominent Bon Temps citizen Robert French at the hands of Bon Temps Sheriff, Emma Swan. Here is the location where he was shot and killed yesterday at the Sheriff's very own home. He is alleged to have attacked the Sheriff and her young son at their home after the funeral of a family friend. Sheriff Swan hasn't yet spoken to the media about the incident, but Mr. French's wife reached out to Channel 4 earlier this morning."

Emma and Henry watched in amazement as the footage cut to a tearful Belle outside of her and Mr. French's house.

"My husband would never hurt a fly," Belle told the reporter. "He was a good man, a community man. This was cold-blooded murder, and I won't rest until Emma Swan is stripped of her badge and locked up behind the bars of her own Sheriff's station!"

The video cut back to the Channel 4 newsroom. "Strong words from Belle French. We'll have the whole story for you coming up at 9 o'clock. First, here's Terry Thornton with this week's forecast."

Emma's hands shook as she muted the TV. How had this all blown out of proportion so fast? And to hear Belle, one of her closest friends, spit such vitriol almost made her want to curl up in a ball and cry.

"Emma, you still there?"

"Yeah—" Emma cleared her throat. "Yeah, I'm here."

"What're you doing to do?" Ruby asked in a small voice.

Emma exhaled deeply, exchanging a look with Henry. There was really only one thing she could do. "I'm going to make a statement."

A couple hours later, Emma found herself standing at her front door in her brown sheriff's uniform, adjusting her tie nervously. She hardly ever wore the uniform, preferring her red leather jacket for everyday use, but she wanted to look as official as possible when she made her statement to the press.

"Ready, Mom?" Henry asked, and she turned her head to look down at him. He gave her a confident smile. "You got this."

A noise escaped her that was halfway through a laugh and a sigh. "What would I do without you, kid?" she asked, smoothing down his hair. Emma snuck a glance at her watch. "Showtime."

Hand in hand, she and Henry walked out onto their front porch amid the snapping of cameras and the murmur of reporters gathered. There had to be about 25 people in her front yard. Most looked to be with some sort of newschannel, but Emma recognized some faces from around the town, most notably her own deputies who she'd called in to help crowd control. A few of the cameras displayed red lights, which meant they were live. Giving Henry's hand a squeeze, she let go, moving to the forefront, somewhat shielding him from view of the cameras.

Emma addressed the cameras. "My name is Sheriff Emma Swan. Yesterday, at approximately 12:10pm, I accepted a ride home for myself and my son by Robert French. During that ride, I became alerted via voicemail that Mr. French's real name was Rupert Gold, a suspect in a series of murders in Eunice, Louisiana in 1989; murders identical to the ones that have occurred here in Bon Temps."

"Before I had the chance to apprehend him, Mr. Gold had already gotten his hands on my son." Emma's throat threatened to close up at the fresh memory of Henry in that monster's clutches. "I was forced to give up my gun to him, which he then pointed at Henry. A scuffle ensued shortly thereafter where Henry was able to break free from Gold, and I ordered him to run to safety. I struggled with Gold and was able to get my gun back. I shot him in the leg to incapacitate him before I went to look for my son and call in backup."

Emma tried to focus on the sequence of events and ignore the flashing lights of cameras around her as she trudged on. "I found him in the woods on our property, but Gold attacked us again. He announced his intentions to kill me, and I had no choice but to defend myself and my son. I shot him three times in the face and pronounced him dead at the scene."

She swallowed, her throat dry from speaking for so long. "I don't take this lightly, but I don't regret taking action to make sure this man who deceived and killed so many people, could never hurt anyone again. I did my job to ensure the safety of this town and the safety of my family. I'd like to ask the press to be respectful of my family during this difficult time as well as Mrs. French. I won't be taking any questions at this time, thank you."

Emma nodded before quickly turning and ushering Henry back into the house amid questions being hurled at them. She shut the door behind them in relief, and they both sagged against it.

"Do you think it gets better or worse from here?" Henry asked.

Emma just shook her head, steering him towards the kitchen. "I think that it's going to be a long day and some breakfast is in order."

She quickly cooked up a simple meal of scrambled eggs and toast for them, and they sat at the kitchen table together with two mugs of hot cocoa with cinnamon.

"How are you doing with all of this, Henry?" Emma asked hesitantly. "You're not scarred for life, are you?"

Henry shrugged. "I'm alright," he said nonchalantly, mouth half full. He swallowed. "Besides, I bet none of the other kids at school have had a vampire sleep over in their basement."

Emma leveled him with a series look. "Henry, you can't tell anyone at school about Killian," she told him. "I purposely left him out of my statement."

"To protect him," her son said matter-a-factly.

"I—" Emma began to protest but stopped. What he said was true. When had he become so wise? "Yeah, I guess so." There was something she she needed to discuss with Henry, and it wasn't going to be easy. "Listen, kid, Mr. French said a lot of horrible things yesterday, about me in particular, and I just want you to know—"

"Mom, it's okay," Henry interrupted her knowingly. "I didn't listen to anything he said."

"Oh," Emma said, taking a relieved sip from her mug. "Good, then."

Henry smiled suddenly, a mischievous quirk of his lips. "But are you dating Killian?"

Emma nearly choked on her cocoa. "What?" she sputtered. "No, absolutely—no. No."

"Graham, then?" he asked innocently.

Emma hesitated, mind flashing back to the passionate embraces they'd shared the night before. "Ahh, it's complicated," she said hastily. "And you know what, we're not talking about this anymore. Come on, you're coming to the station with me."

"I am?" Henry perked up, interrogation forgotten. "What about school?"

She snorted, standing up. "You think I'm letting you out of my sight after yesterday?" she asked, bringing his and her plates over to the sink. "Come on, hopefully by the time we're ready to go, all the news crews will be gone."

Their yard was thankfully empty when they left the house, and Emma made a mental note to thank her deputies for clearing the media out. The ride to the station in her police cruiser was uneventful, though they did pass Emma's bug on the way. In all the drama yesterday, she hadn't had a chance to call for a tow truck, something that would have to wait until later. Right now, she had more important business to take care of.

Bon Temps being on the smaller end of small towns had five full time members of their police force. Besides Emma, there was her deputy sheriff, Lance Lotts, her assistant deputy, Leroy, and two officers, Mulan, who she and Ruby had gone to school with, and Freddy, who was married to Abigail, eldest daughter of one of the oldest families in town. She stood before them all in the station's bullpen, one eye on Henry reading his storybook in her office.

"Alright, what've you got for me?"

Mulan and Lance exchanged a look, and Leroy crossed his arms, avoiding her stare. Emma let out a noise of exasperation.

"Come on," Emma said. "I know you all searched Belle's house last night. What did you find?"

"Everything," Lance said finally. "The gold flecks we found on each of the victim's bodies matches the gold from the cane we found with his body yesterday. The lab in Monroe also matched it to the same cane used on the victims in Eunice."

"Good, what else?" she asked, looking at the rest of them.

"We confiscated Gold's landlord keys," Lance spoke up again. "There were keys to each of the crime scenes, both Ariel and Aurora's condos and Granny's diner."

"My house, too, I expect?" Emma asked, and he nodded solemnly. "Okay, gimme more."

Freddy glanced away while Mulan stared straight ahead, and it became obvious that they were hiding something from her. She prompted Leroy with a look.

"Guy was a sicko, Sheriff," he said with some reluctance. "We found some...pictures."

"What kind of pictures?" Emma asked, a growing feeling of dread in her stomach.

"Pictures of the victims from before," Mulan faltered, and Emma was reminded of the fact that she wasn't the only person in the room that had lost someone they'd loved to Gold. Mulan and Aurora had been very close. "From before Gold killed them."

Judging by all of their expressions, there were pictures of her in there.

"Show me."

"Sheriff—"

"I want to see them," Emma said firmly, cutting Freddy off.

Lance and Mulan exchanged another look that made Emma want to bash their heads together, before Mulan finally handed her a plain manila envelope. She slid her fingers under the seal and tipped it so the photos fell into her hand. She tossed the envelope away and began thumbing through the pictures.

There were a couple of Ariel first; her at the town community center where she taught swim lessons, and then a few with a dark haired vampire Emma had never seen before. The next several were of Aurora at her beauty parlor, which was open 24 hours and catered to both humans and vampires alike. Mulan was in a couple of them, and Emma's eyes flickered over to her involuntarily. The last were of Aurora and her boyfriend Phillip, a vampire, outside of her condo.

Emma flipped to the next set, her heart stopping as she came across pictures of Granny through the blinds of the diner; Granny with Graham in the doorway of the inn; Granny walking with Ruby in town. Her stomach clenched up when she thumbed to the next picture and saw herself with Granny. The next few were of her around the town: at the grocery store; leaving the station; picking up Henry from school. It made her blood boil to see him in a couple of the pictures.

She paused on the next picture, one of the last. Her and Graham in the parking lot of the diner. They were close together, and when she flipped to the next one, they were locked in an embrace, her lips on his. Emma stared at the photo before roughly shoving the pile back inside the envelope.

"Do we have any idea who took these?" Emma asked through clenched teeth. "Was it Gold himself?"

"There's another set of prints on 'em besides Gold's," Leroy told her. Her gestured back towards their database room with his thumb. "I'm runnin' them through the computer now."

"Good, let me know the minute anything matches," she ordered, and he gave her a firm nod and headed off to comply.

She turned to the rest of them. "What else?"

Freddy stepped up. "It might have been no incident that you got a flat tire yesterday, Sheriff."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"We spoke to a few of the funeral attendees, and one said they saw Gold loitering by your car right before it started," Freddy explained.

"You think he planted something," Emma surmised. "It's definitely possible. I'll have that checked out. Next? Who questioned Belle?"

"I did," Mulan said. She shook her head. "I didn't get much out of her, though. She wouldn't talk to us without her lawyer present and he wouldn't let her answer any questions."

"What?" Emma asked. "Who's her lawyer?"

"Albert Spencer," she said, her tone dripping with disdain.

Emma groaned. Albert Spencer was up there on her list of people she wouldn't spit on if they were on fire. He was a hotshot lawyer in Shreveport and probably the biggest asshole she'd ever had the displeasure of meeting.

"Belle doesn't even like Albert Spencer," Emma said, exasperated. "She couldn't stop talking about how horrible he was for representing that sex offender over in Red Hook last year."

Mulan shrugged. "Well, she didn't seem to mind him there with her."

"Yeah, well, Belle hasn't exactly been herself since yesterday," Emma said, more to herself than to them, but she didn't miss another bout of exchanged glances between her deputy and Mulan. "Okay, can you two stop doing that?" she asked, wiggling her finger between them. "Whatever it is, just tell me. I'm a big girl, I can handle it."

Lance sighed. "You need to prepare yourself."

"For what?"

"Hey, Mom?" Emma's head whipped around to see Henry waving her into her office. "You should probably see this."

Emma and the rest crowded into her office to find Henry focused on the TV there. On the screen, Albert Spencer was standing at a news conference podium erected in front of the town hall, Belle next to him.

"What happened to Robert French yesterday at the hands of Sheriff Emma Swan is a gross misconduct," Spencer was saying, a hard look on his face as he spoke into the camera. "According to the coroner's report, and by her own admission, Mr. French was shot three times in the head, an unnecessary show of force, especially for an unarmed man of his age. We cannot and will not stand for this injustice, which is why Mrs. French intends to sue Sheriff Swan for wrongful death."

"What?" Emma exclaimed, staring agape at the TV. If Henry hadn't have been there, she might have let out a few choice curses. She swiveled her head to look at Mulan and Lance. "Is this what you were trying to tell me?"

"Yeah," Mulan said, wincing slightly. "Spencer might have said something similar before he kicked me out of Belle's house."

Emma closed her eyes briefly before turning her attention back towards the screen. Spencer was fielding questions from reporters now.

"All signs point to French as the perpetrator behind the recent string of murders here in Bon Temps as well as in Eunice back in 1989," one journalist said. "What would you say to those who believe Sheriff Swan was simply doing her job?"

"Well, to them I say, since when did our local sheriffs become judge, jury, and executioner?" Spencer answered, the self-righteous tone making Emma's hackles rise. "Matters like this are the reason we have a judicial system. To me it reeks of an abuse of power. Next question."

Emma snatched the remote off her desk and jabbed the power button. She didn't need to listen to this bullshit anymore, and the last thing Henry needed was to hear it and start worrying. "Keep the TV off, kid," she said, putting her hand on the top of his head. He looked up at her solemnly and nodded, turning his attention back to his book.

Freddy, Mulan, and Lance followed her back out to bullpen with a quick gesture of her head. Emma paced in front of them for a moment, thinking. This had to be some sort of sick joke. She knew Belle was distraught, but to sue her? They'd been friends for years! There was no one she was closer with besides Ruby. She just didn't understand why Belle would do this. She wasn't listening to reason! Her behavior the last two days borderlined on completely nonsensical. This had to be Spencer's fault. He had to be the one behind this. Belle never would have come up with something like this by herself. If Emma could just talk to her, maybe she could—

"Emma, maybe you should go home," came her deputy's voice suddenly. Emma's head whipped around to look at Lance, and, she had to hand it to him, he didn't back down from her glare. "You're too close to this. Let us collect all the evidence and present it to the press or else they'll accuse you of tampering with it."

She sighed, crossing her arms. Though she hated to admit it, Lance was right. Her emotions were getting the better of her, and her team was more than capable of handling this case. Emma would take Henry and go home, and they would relax for the rest of the day.

"Got a match, Sheriff!" Leroy said, excitedly, waving a sheet of paper as he came back into the room.

Yup, she would go home...right after she ripped this bastard apart.

"Let me see," Emma said, and Leroy handed over the sheet. Her eyes scanned the results, narrowing in recognition at the name. Passing the paper to Lance, she said to Leroy, "Go pick him up."

Her assistant deputy smiled beneath his bushy beard. "With pleasure."

Sidney Glass was the editor of the local newspaper, The Bon Temps Bulletin, and could always be found skulking around the town when trouble hit, camera in hand, lips curled into a smirk as if he'd just hit gold. He wasn't smirking now, however, as Emma entered the interrogation room. Far from it if the sweat forming on his upper brow was any indication, though he tried his best to hide his unease.

"Your deputy was a bit rough with me, Sheriff," he quipped, straightening out the collar of his shirt.

Emma gave him a tight lipped smile. "My fault I'm afraid," she said. "I told him there was no need to be gentle."

Sidney made a derisive noise. "Careful," he warned her. "You wouldn't want the press to get wind of another 'abuse of power,' and don't forget, I am the press."

Emma's smile faded at his barely veiled threat. Time to get down to business. She opened the manila folder on the table and started taking out the pictures, placing them one-by-one on the table facing Sidney, observing the way his face paled.

"What are these?"

"These are photos," Emma told him. "Photos with your fingerprints on them, found at the French's house."

Sidney remained still as stone, except for a slight tick in his jaw.

"Did you take these, Sidney?" she asked point-blank.

"I don't see why that's any concern of yours whether I did or not," Sidney practically stuttered.

"You don't see why it's a concern of mine?" Emma repeated. "You don't see why it would concern me to see pictures of all of Mr. French's victims before their deaths? You don't see why it would concern me to see myself and my son in those pictures after what happened yesterday?"

"P-purely co-coincidental," Sidney sputtered, tugging on the side of his collar anxiously.

"Cut the bullshit, Sidney," she said. "Right now, you're looking at a possible accomplice to murder charge."

"No, no, it wasn't like that," Sidney said, finally breaking. "I had nothing to do with the murders."

"Then explain to me, Sidney, how your photos came to be in Mr. French's possession," Emma said, leaning over the table. "And don't even think about lying to me because I'll know, and then the only gossip you'll be getting is whatever Leroy deems fit when he brings food to your cell."

"Okay, okay," he said hastily. "This is how it happened, I swear. A month or so ago, Mr. French came to me with a story for the paper. A few women in town were getting friendly with some fangers and he said he thought the town was in danger. I told him I would look into it." Sidney shrugged. "I did what I do best, I snooped. Caught Ariel a few times going to that vamp bar in Shreveport, snapped a few shots of Aurora with her boyfriend, and well, you know…" he trailed off, gesturing vaguely to a shot of her and Graham.

"So, you invaded everyone's privacy for a story," Emma summarized sardonically. "Why am I not surprised? How did French get his hands on the photos?"

"That, I had nothing to do with," Sidney said instantly. "One day, I came into my office and I couldn't find the photos. I thought I had just misplaced them. And then a few days later, Ariel turned up dead, so I figured it was probably better that way."

Emma studied him closely. He was telling her the truth; she could feel it. Sighing, she stood up. Sidney jumped out of his chair as well, a hopeful look on his face, and she paused.

"Where do you think you're going?"

He faltered, his brow furrowing in confusion. "I thought we were done here?"

Emma put a hand to her chest. "I'm done," she told him. Behind her, the door to the interrogation room opened. "You on the other hand? Freddy, why don't you show our guest to his cell."

"Cell?" Sidney echoed, looking incredulously between her and her officer. "But I haven't done anything! I told you everything!"

Emma pretended to consider it. "Yeah, but we gotta make sure your story checks out and all," she said, doing nothing to contain her glee. "So, you're gonna stay with us with a bit."

"This is outrageous!" he exclaimed. "I want, no, I demand, my phone call. I want my lawyer. You have no right to keep me here."

"You'll find, I do actually," Emma reminded him, pointing to her badge. "But don't worry, I'll make sure you get your phone call. Eventually. Freddy?"

"On it, Sheriff," he said. Emma smiled and waved at an agape Sidney before leaving interrogation. As she walked into the bullpen, she heard Freddy say, "Come on Sidney, let's take a nice little trip to booking, and then I'll show you to our penthouse suite."

Lance and Mulan were at their desks and stood when she came in.

"We had your bug towed here, Sheriff," Mulan reported. "There was a large piece of glass shrapnel lodged in your tire. I tested it for prints, and they're a match for Gold's."

A noise akin to a growl escaped Emma. "Sonuva bitch," she said, glad Henry had the door closed to her office. "Okay, put the shrapnel with the rest of the evidence. Then, you and Leroy go on patrol. I want to make sure the media's not bothering people in town."

Mulan nodded and left the room, leaving just her and Lance.

"Sidney took the pictures, but I don't believe he had anything to do with the murders," Emma told him, beginning to pace. "I still want to make sure everything checks out. See if any of those keys Gold had match the offices at The Bulletin and get a copy of their surveillance tapes from the whole week before Ariel was killed. And then, we should—"

"Emma."

She stopped at his deep, grave voice. He was looking at her with a mix of affection, exasperation, and concern, and she sighed.

"I have to do something, Lance, or I'll go crazy."

"What you need to do is go home and relax," her deputy told her, laying a comforting hand on her shoulder. "We've got this. Our case couldn't be more solid, and the evidence grows by the minute. I'll have Mulan draft a statement to the press outlining what we've got so far. That should keep the media occupied for a day or so." Emma opened her mouth to speak, but he beat her to it. "And I will call you if anything big comes in."

Emma mustered a small smile. "I honestly don't know whether to write you up for insubordination or give you a commendation," she joked. "Seriously, though, keep me updated."

Lance nodded. "We will."

He turned to head into the evidence room.

"Hey, Lance," she said, and he stopped to look back at her. "Thanks."

He nodded again, a small smile on his face, before disappearing down the hallway.

Emma sighed and opened the door to her office. "Come on, kid," she said to Henry. "We're getting out of here."

After spending an idle afternoon back at the house with Henry, mostly spent playing video games, they headed to Granny's for dinner, which proved to be not the smartest decision. Though Ruby was more than happy to see them, giving them both fierce hugs, they did not receive the warmest of welcomes from the rest of the diner's patrons. As they sat down in their usual booth, Emma could feel eyes on her from every direction, and when she tried to meet their stares, they either looked away shiftily or glared back openly at her, sometimes shaking their heads.

The grilled cheese on Emma's plate lost its appeal as the lady she got her dry cleaning from ignored her greeting as she passed by, instead turning her nose up and ushering her husband to a table clear across the room. Luckily, Henry seemed blissfully ignorant as he stuffed his face with cheeseburger, occasionally reaching across the table to steal one of her uneaten onion rings.

"What is with everyone?" Emma complained to Ruby when she came over to check on them. "It's not like Mr. French was the most popular person in town."

Ruby shrugged. "Well, yeah, he wasn't, but Belle may as well be." The tinkling bell above the front door caught her attention, and Emma watched her eyes widen in shock. "Speaking off…"

Emma followed her gaze to find Belle standing in the doorway. A hushed silence settled over the diner, the tension kicking up a few notches as Belle noticed Emma. Her face hardened with anger and she immediately whirled around and left the way she came. Emma knew it was better if she stayed put, but she couldn't help herself.

"Stay here, Henry," she said, sliding out of the booth. Everyone's eyes were on her again as she ran out the door after her (former?) friend. She spied her walking down the sidewalk on the other side of the street and raced after her. "Belle, wait!"

Luckily for Emma, the dark haired beauty was wearing her usual high heels, and she was able to catch up to her easily. Belle didn't slow down, however, forcing Emma to keep walking besides her.

"How you can have the gall to speak to me," Belle hissed, head determinedly faced forward, "After everything you've done—"

"Belle, please, just listen to me," Emma begged her. "I never meant to hurt you, but he left me no choice! He made it clear that I wasn't going to be leaving there alive and that he was going to cover it up. I couldn't let him kill anyone else."

"He was my husband!" Belle screeched, finally turning towards her, and Emma took a step back. Belle's eyes were completely pitch black, no white at all. "And a good man. I loved him, and you'll pay for this, Emma Swan!"

Her eyes flared bright red before fading to their normal color. Belle glared at her one last time before striding off. Emma didn't follow this time, her heart beating wildly in her chest.

Back at the diner, a worried Ruby met her outside on the patio walkway.

"Are you okay?" she asked immediately. Her friend studied her face more intently after a moment. "Emma, what's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost."

Emma took a deep breath. Belle's behavior the past two days had been, at best, out of character and, at worst, completely insane. It went beyond grief and anger; truthfully it went beyond all logic and sense. There really was only one explanation for what she'd seen.

"I think Belle might be possessed."

TBC

A/N: I seriously am so sorry it's been so long! I got writer's block halfway through this chapter, but finally was able to power through it the last couple of weeks. Please let me know if you're still out there enjoying this story! I love all or your guys' review and every single one of them is a delight to read, so please please leave a comment! :)