AN: Hello again! New chapter, finally! I'm sorry it took so long, but I've been dealing with iritis (I couldn't read with my left - and best - eye for about two weeks and felt like a cyclop), there was Easter, and I had a lot of inspiration flowing for my "side fics" (one Cambrano and one kind of Swan Queen, both planned to be fairly short). Then my beta had a lot on her plate when I was finally finished with the chapter.

I'll try not to keep you waiting this long again but, as usual, I can't make any promises. However, I WILL finish it. I've made a pact with myself :p This story is like a dear friend to me.

Anyway, here's the chapter! ^^


Birdhouse

With part of the office – among them the mayor – out of town for the day, the week started out quietly. However, as my shift was nearing it's end, my phone rang, and the name on the display had me staring in astonishment for a moment before picking up.

"Hello, Madame Mayor. To what do I owe this honour?"

"Don't try to be smart," she snarled in a hushed voice. "I need to ask you a... A favour."

Very reluctantly, it seemed.

"What kind of favour?" I asked curiously, intrigued and perplexed by the thought of the mayor needing something from me.

"Were you serious when you offered to watch Henry?"

My heart started to beat faster. Was this for real? Was she really asking me this?

"Of course," I replied, gripping my phone tighter in anticipation. "I didn't think you'd, uh, consider it."

"I'm not considering it," she asserted, only to contradict herself the next moment. "Henry has lost his keys and I'm in the middle of an important meeting, in Bangor. I was wondering if maybe you could pick him up from school and keep him company for a couple of hours? I'll be back in Storybrooke by five, hopefully."

"Sure, I can do that," I agreed, still baffled over being given this prestige filled assignment. "But, um-"

"Yes, I know he has a second family," she cut me off defensively, "but since this is my week I'd rather not involve them."

"No, that's not..." I faltered. "I was just gonna say my shift isn't over yet."

There was a brief silence.

"Well, that's irrelevant. Grumpy is there, isn't he?"

"If you mean Leroy, then yes, he's here," I said, throwing a glance in the presumed direction of the ill-tempered, stocky man.

He was hardworking, but not very punctual, and a rather unpleasant person to be around. It was no surprise that he and Killian got along well, although the latter was actively pestering people while Leroy mostly kept to himself.

"You better get going, then, or else I will arrive before you and this call will have been completely pointless. I assume your idea of a car isn't at work?"

"Right, no, it isn't," I confirmed, hurriedly gathering my equipment. "Don't worry, I'll be there in no time."

"No speeding, I hope," the mayor commented dryly. "I'll send you his teacher's number, she can guide you to the school and tell you everything you need to know. And finally, do not call me unless it's of highest importance."

"Yes, Boss. Understood."

"Don't make me regret this."

Such faith she was putting in me, ey? The kid had seemed to enjoy the time we spent in each other's company during Easter, so there shouldn't be a problem with that. Judging by the mayor's reluctance her meeting must be very important, otherwise I was sure she would've skipped it in favour of helping her son.

"I won't," I assured her. "You won't. He'll be fine."

"He better be," she said threateningly, and I made a mental note to not touch a single hair on the boy's head.

What had I gotten myself into?

I was in for more surprises. The teacher, Miss Blanchard, turned out to be Ruby's friend Margaret, and we spent the first half minute of my call to her sorting out our identities. She was clearly surprised to hear me, too.

"Honestly, I was expecting Marian to show up anyway," she confessed. "I didn't think the mayor would ever find anyone good enough to look after her son, who would actually agree to do it. No offense, though, but since you're close to her I'm sure you know what I'm talking about."

"Err, we're not...we're not close," I corrected, thrown off by the ridiculous idea that we would be. "Definitely not, and this is just a one time thing."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Margaret apologized. "I just assumed..."

"No problem," I assured her, although her assumption did make me wonder.

How well did Margaret know the mayor herself? She seemed to have some insight, but that was only natural since she was the teacher of her son. Why would she automatically think I was close to the mayor just because I was gonna look after her kid for a couple of hours? Granted, Mayor Mills entrusted few people with this responsibility, but that Marian – the new wife of Henry's father, I presumed – was hardly close to her. Close to Henry, perhaps.

"Anyway," I said as the yellow Bug – sorry, pug – came into view, "I'll be at my car any minute. How do I get to the school?"

"It's really easy to find. You know where Granny's Diner is, right?"

"Yeah."

"From Main Street, if the diner is to your right, choose left. The school is at the end of the road, you can't miss it."

"Alright, thank you! I'll be there soon."

I hoped.

Like any – especially old – car, the Bug needed to be used in order to run smoothly and I had been driving it very sporadically during the past month. I wasn't too ashamed of the state of it but it did look pretty sad, and the one time I had taken it to work – because of a particularly heavy downpour – the mayor had lectured me for minutes. Nothing I'd like to repeat unless necessary.

I grimaced as I poked the dented metal, then made my way to the driver's seat. Except from that broken bulb I'd had to change, there was nothing wrong with it, mechanically. To be honest, it didn't actually look like a pug, either. The front wasn't flat enough. More like...a Boston terrier. I had wanted one as a kid, after my grandma's collie Lassie had passed away of old age, but my parents had said no. My argument that they needed a dog for herding the sheep had been invalidatedimmediately, since Boston terriers didn't herd. Besides, the farm was no longer big enough to really demand a working dog, and even Lassie had been kept more out of habit than need.

The faithful collie had been the family's last dog. My parents hadn't wanted a new one, at eleven years I hadn't been nearly old enough to take full responsibility for a pet, and Grandma's health had been quickly declining. The cancer had gotten the better of her the next year and my family had suddenly felt very small.

So now, the Bug was like the dog I'd never had, and it was hurt and rowdy for being crashed and then forgotten about. I was lucky, though, that it decided to cooperate with me today, and Margaret hadn't lied when she had said the school was easy to find.

From my apartment the diner was to my left, so I turned right, and just like promised, the road ended with a set of old-fashioned buildings and a schoolyard. It was rather empty, though, so I figured most students had either left or were attending class. I found a free space where I parked, and then hesitantly looked between the different buildings as I got out of my car. Which one was it? As if hearing my silent question, someone opened the door to the closest building, and Henry poked his head out with a bright smile on his face.

"Hi, Emma!"

"Hey, kid!" I called back and made my way over to him, up a bunch of stone steps.

His eyes narrowed slightly as he peered up at me, not moving to let me inside. Well, this is starting out great, I thought, with a sudden twinge of anxiety in my gut. I couldn't mess up. I had made a promise!

"You don't remember my name," he said, giving me an accusing look.

"Why, of course I do, Henry," I said earnestly, putting emphasis on his name. "And I'm glad that you remembered mine."

His face lit up again and one of his small hands tugged at my sleeve, like there had never been a problem.

"Come on, I want to show you something!"

"Alright," I agreed and let myself be led through a corridor and into the second classroom on the left, which Margaret was just about to exit.

"Oh, hi," she greeted with a friendly smile. "I was just wondering when you'd show up. Not that hard to find, was it?"

"Can't say it was, no," I grinned.

"Look what I've done!" Henry called from the other side of the room, holding up... "A birdhouse!"

Well, wasn't he adorable. Smiling, Margaret and I walked over to him and the table he was standing by. There were several birdhouses and other creations sitting on it, all in different stages of completion, but the one in Henry's hands seemed to be finished.

"Wow, have you built that all by yourself?"

"No, we're not allowed to use all of the tools. They think we're gonna hurt ourselves," he explained with an almost perfect imitation of his mother's eye rolls. "But I've done most of the work!"

"You've done a great job, it looks really nice," I said appreciatively, giving him an encouraging smile.

One wouldn't think a nine-year-old had built it and I was honestly impressed. Not very surprised, though. He shared fifty percent of his DNA with the mayor, after all, and everything about her just seemed so...well, perfect. Except maybe her attitude toward other people.

"I finished it today and was thinking about how difficult it would be to carry on my bike. It doesn't fit in my backpack. But now we can just put it in your car!"

"Yes, we can," I told the enthusiastic boy and shared a brief knowing glance with his teacher before focusing on Henry again. "Are you ready to go?"

He nodded and clutched the birdhouse to his chest, then ran off to get his backpack.

"So, how do you know the mayor?" Margaret suddenly asked in a lowered voice, so Henry wouldn't hear.

"I said-"

"I know what you said, but you've clearly spent time with Henry before. And lived to tell about it."

All these jokes, always depicting the mayor as some kind of tyrant. They were exaggerated. But I bit back my comment and simply answered the question. I had no reason to defend her.

"Yeah, I have. Once."

Henry scurried past me and Margaret and we slowly followed him out to the hall, where his jacket was the only one left in its particular section.

"Just once?" Margaret questioned, surprised. "You must've made quite an impression on him, he seems to really like you."

"Yeah, I guess," I said. "I don't know what I did, really, we just talked some over dinner."

Margaret's eyes widened.

"You had dinner with him? And the mayor?"

Ah, shit, I was sharing too many details.

"Well, not exactly," I tried to clarify. "It wasn't planned or anything. I kinda just joined their table at Granny's because there weren't any other available seats."

"And she didn't throw you out with your head first?"

"I'm as surprised as you are," I said with a smirk, because this was actually true. "I think she made an effort to behave in front of Henry."

"Please, can we go now?" Henry called impatiently from the door.

"Absolutely!" I declared, taking the opportunity to escape the unwanted conversation with Margaret. "Let's go."


"Mom doesn't like birds. I don't think she wants to put it up in her garden."

We were driving back toward Main Street and my brows furrowed at the boy's words.

"What about your dad?"

"Nah, his garden is smaller and we already have a birdhouse there. I wanted to make this for my mom. I was hoping she might change her mind, but I don't think she has."

How heartbreakingly cute. And a bit sad. Who didn't like small, chirping birdhouse birds?

"But now that you're here I don't need her help to put it up," Henry continued mischievously. "You can put it on one of the tall trees, real high, so she can't reach it."

"Henry," I gently chided him. "We shouldn't do something she doesn't want us to. That's not nice."

And, more importantly, would most certainly get me into trouble. Henry pouted.

"Besides, if I can put it up, she surely can reach to take it down again," I pointed out. "I'm not that tall."

This immediately earned me a look that suggested I was tremendously stupid.

"Does she look like the type who would climb a ladder?" Henry questioned. "Have you seen her shoes?"

I had to laugh a little at that.

"I can hardly imagine that she does gardening in tight dresses and high heels."

Which, on another note, was an uncomfortably arousing thought. Best not to think of that while on the road. With her son in the passenger seat, no less.

"No, she has her gardener for that. The only things he isn't allowed to touch are the apple trees. But he's mostly there during the summer, so the birdhouse should be safe for a while."

He could certainly argue his case but there was no way I would risk upsetting the mayor like that. A trifle, it might seem, but only if you didn't know her. Surely Henry was aware of that.

"I won't put it up without your mother's permission," I firmly declared. "But, I will try to help you convince her to let me do it once she comes to pick you up. How does that sound?"

Henry narrowed his eyes critically at me but then nodded.

"Okay. What are we going to do now, then?"

"Whatever you want, kiddo," I said, earning a pointed look from him. "Sorry. Henry."

The boy giggled unexpectedly and I looked at him, confused. What had I missed?

"You can call me 'kiddo' if you like," he explained, "but I don't think you really meant what you said. I don't think you would approve of all the things I want to do."

"Oh," I said with sudden comprehension, revising my answer. "Whatever you want, within reason."

"I thought so. Is ice cream on a Monday within reason?" he asked hopefully.

"Well, your mom didn't say anything about that..."

We stopped for ice cream and then decided to take a walk in the park because of the beautiful, sunny weather. Henry told me stories about his dog, Mudbud, and animatedly demonstrated what he had done and where. Apparently, he had once ate a whole pigeon before anyone could stop him.

"What happened to your car, exactly?" Henry asked innocently, when we were on our way back and was nearing the dented Bug.

"Ah, well, actually," I began, a little embarrassed. "I kinda drove into your mom."

Hazel eyes grew wide.

"That was you?"

"Unfortunately. But her car merely got scratched, did you see it?"

He quietly shook his little head, still looking amazed.

"I was with Marian and Roland that day. I just remember Mom being upset when checking in with me before bedtime. Usually, she just texts me goodnight, because neither of my parents like the other to intrude on their time with me, but this time she called. When I asked her if something was wrong she didn't want to say at first, but then she admitted that someone had driven into her and that she was still pretty mad. She told me not to worry, though, and the car was already repaired the next weekend when I stayed with her."

I listened intently to his lengthy answer. It was a lot to take in. I had understood that his parents didn't get along but this was worse than I had imagined. It seemed troubling for everyone involved and I felt extra sorry for Henry. He was just nine years old, far too young to have this much tension in his home. Homes. No one should.

"She's been weird ever since that day. She doesn't think that I notice, but I do."

We were right next to the car now and Henry was looking me deeply in the eyes with a serious expression on his face. Everyone seemed to have noticed the mayor's change that day, and my old doubts reawakened. Maybe it had to do with me, after all? The evidence was overwhelming. What else could it be? Perhaps...perhaps Henry would know something.

"Do you think it's because I hit her car?" I asked carefully, but the boy immediately shook his head.

"I don't think so," he said with a frown. "She wouldn't let you drive me if it was."

I almost heaved a sigh of relief. Of course, that made sense. Great, then that was settled, once and for all.

"Dad's been different, too, so I just figured they had a big fight or something," Henry continued, a sad kind of acceptance in his eyes. "I remember when they were breaking up and deciding who I was gonna live with. Then when Marian moved in. And when Roland was born. It was bad."

I acted completely on impulse and before I knew it I had embraced the kid in a bone crushing hug.

"I'm so sorry, Henry," I said earnestly, my heart swelling a little when the small form in my arms hugged me back. "I know that we don't know each other very well but I'm glad that you felt like you could tell me these things."

I loosened my grip and Henry took a step back, nodding and looking brave despite the wetness in his eyes.

"Do you feel like you have someone you can talk to about this?" I asked, bending down to his level.

He hesitated for a moment, staring at the ground and shuffling his feet.

"Not really... Mom made me see a counsellor a few times but I never had much to tell him. There isn't a lot to talk about, you know. I just wish things were different."

I offered a sympathetic smile and thought about what it must be to grow up under such circumstances. To be so torn...

"Do you wish your parents could still be together?"

"No," he quickly replied, to my surprise. "My dad is happy with his new family, and I am, too. It's great there. We're a family. But Mom..."

He seemed to search for the right words but then worry suddenly entered his features.

"You can't tell Mom I said that! She'll... She'll..."

"Of course I won't," I said and put my hand reassuringly on his shoulder to calm him down. "Anything you tell me stays between the two of us. I promise."

He relaxed notably and gave me a resolute smile.

"I like both my parents equally," he declared. "But they're better apart than together."