Once...And Forever Ch 3 A New Hobby...Gold-Watching
Emma trudged sleepily over to the Locke residence stifling yawns and blinking rapidly to keep her self awake. The sun was making a rare appearance and she was hoping she'd get to enjoy it a bit that day. If she could get this done quickly without a lot of drama from Ms. Locke then there was hope.
A gleaming silver car was parked in front of the house when she arrived. A woman was in it watching her approach, and stepped out of it. She was short, and a little dumpy, but she carried herself as if she were a six foot tall supermodel. Emma smiled at her. Her hair was short, silver, and wavy. She wore thin granny-glasses on the bridge of her nose.
"Sheriff Swan, a pleasure to see you at last. Wanda Coachman," she said. Her tone was kind, but to the point. She was making it clear she was there on business.
"Hi, it's nice to meet you. Mr Gold told me about you. He said you're the best," she replied. Ms. Coachman smiled.
"He did, did he? That boy is such a charmer," she said with a chuckle. Emma was taken aback by her calling the formidable Mr Gold 'boy'. But she recovered quickly.
"You two must go way back," Emma said. She nodded.
"Further than I'd care to admit. Now lets go see about this little girl," she said turning her face coolly to the front door and walked on ahead. Emma followed at a distance, letting her do her thing. She was the back-up singer here, and she was more than happy to let Ms. Coachman hit the high notes.
Ms. Locke opened the front door and blanched when she saw Wanda standing there holding all that paperwork, and looking stern. She moved back and let them in. Ms Coachman tucked her bag under her arm, and marched inside.
"Good morning Ms. Locke, I'm Wanda Coachman of Storybrooke's child protective services division. I'm here to discuss the questionable parenting that has been going on in this household of late," she said, walking across the living room and setting her papers down on the coffee table. Ms. Locke looked offended.
"I can assure you," she began, but was headed off. Wanda's eyes snapped from sky blue, to steely gray.
"I wasn't finished speaking. You realize that although you daughter is a minor, and for the time being under your care, that she has reached the age of legal liability, which in this state is sixteen. That means that decisions she makes about her own personal body are hers to make. She's already exercised that right in the making of the child within her, and it is not yours to take away, Ms Locke. Carrie is within her rights to take her high school tests, and from what I have seen of her transcripts she will undoubtedly pass them. Then she can do as she pleases about furthering her education," she said firmly, sitting without an invitation, and spreading the papers out in front of her. Ms. Locke looked like a fish out of water, as she stood there with her mouth hanging open. Emma grinned, but said nothing. She wanted to applaud.
"Now," Ms. Coachman continued. "I am, at this time, only warning you. Things must improve, not only for Carrie, but your other child as well. Carrie must receive medical care for her pregnancy, and I will be checking on it. I recommend she see Doctor Underwood, as he is the most experienced OBGYN there is in town. You are not to make anymore threats regarding her child, what's more, your grandchild," she added. "If she would decide to give the baby up for adoption, then an agreement can be reached at that time, but until she makes that decision, the child should be treated like a member of the family. It appalls me that you have such disregard for your own flesh and blood, and makes me wonder if you are fit to raise children if they are so disposable to you!" she snapped. Ms. Locke's lip quivered, and she looked as though she may cry. "I will be coming back to check on the state of things once a week, and you will be given a half an hour notice to my visit. If I return here and things are not as they should be, then you may lose your children Ms. Locke. Think well on that, won't you? How does it feel to have the threat of losing you children looming over your head?" she demanded. Ms Locke gulped, and cleared her throat.
"I was only doing what I thought as best," she said half-heartedly. Ms. Coachman rolled her eyes.
"Best for whom? For you, I think," the older woman replied. "I know how it goes. You are too wrapped up in them winning a title to even notice that it isn't exactly fun for them anymore. I swear, I hate those fairest of them all pageants! Thinly veiled abuse, if you ask me," she sniffed. "Now, I need you to sign these. You don't have to do it now. These copies are yours, if you want an attorney to look over them first. My attorney already has copies, and is awaiting your phone call," she laid a business card on top of the papers. Emma didn't have to look to know who her attorney was. "I will return to see how things are progressing, and I am very thorough, so don't think of fooling me dearie," she said in a hard tone, her eyes piercing Ms. Locke's. Ms. Lock nodded, swallowing her fear, and looked like she may burst into tears any moment. Ms. Coachman turned to Carrie. "You will meet with Doctor Hopper to discuss your mental state when you committed the crimes you did. Hormones, no doubt, had a lot to do with it. I'm sure Miss Swan will have your court date set as soon as possible," she glanced over at Emma, who nodded.
"As soon as I can, I promise," she replied, and Carrie smiled and muttered "thanks" to Emma, she smiled back at the girl, who reminded her all too much of herself at eighteen.
"Wait, if we are going to be keeping the child, then what about the boy who did this to her? Will he be made to take responsibility?" Ms. Locke asked meekly.
"He didn't 'do' anything to me mom. I was there too, very willingly," Ms. Coachman gave an admonishing look at Carrie, but it was tinged with pride as well. She glanced back at Ms. Locke.
"That is not my arena. Family law, would be the place to start that fight. But I hear the boy is denying that there was ever anything between them?" she looked at Carrie, and she nodded. "You must speak to an attorney first," she replied in a clipped tone to Ms. Locke. " And get a paternity test. Now, I must be going. I have a dozen other cases going on right now, and no help from my fellow workers,:" she said bitterly. "You think on what I've said, and think on it hard Ms. Locke. I'll be back," she stated and stood to leave. "Take care of yourself dear," she said to Carrie as she headed for the door. The girl nodded, and smiled at Emma Emma looked back at the woman, and almost felt sorry for her. Ms. Coachman was cut-throat, she nodded to them, and followed her out the door.
"Well, that went a lot better than I expected," Emma commented as she fell into step beside Ms Coachman. The old woman turned her face and smiled a knowing smile.
"Bullies don't like it much when you get the drop on them. That's all she is, a puffed up windbag. She'll be lucky if she doesn't lose those girls," she said, and shook her head. "I could never abide anyone being cruel to a child," she said more to herself than anyone. She looked up at Emma with a knowing expression. There was something innately familiar about her in that moment. Emma shook her head to clear it, and Ms. Coachman smiled.
"Everything will make sense soon dear one. You keep fighting the good fight," she said, smiling encouragingly at Emma and patting her arm. "Have a lovely day. Oh, and when you see him tell him to come by my office when he can. I have a deal to discuss," she said warmly, and turned to get into her car. Emma was stuck in place for a minute. It seemed the woman could read her mind. How else could she know she was going to pay Gold a visit? She turned and headed for the center of town.
Gold was organizing a stack of old books when the little bell above the door tinkled signaling a customer. He smiled and put the books down. He didn't have to turn around to know who it was. He could practically feel her presence.
"Good morning Miss Swan," he said without turning around. Emma wondered how he did that. When he did turn her wore a smile that made her heart do a somersault.
"Hi, uh I just wanted to thank you again. Oh and to pass on a message," she stammered. He looked at her mildly. "Ms Coachman wants to see you. Something about a deal?" she hedged, wondering what business he had with the woman. He smiled knowingly.
"Yes, I know what she wants. I'll pop by sometime today. Thank you for telling me. She is a very busy woman, hard to get a hold of," he said, sidling around the counter and leaning on it in front of her. She backed up one step, and looked at him carefully.
"You were right about her. She had Ms, Locke over a barrel. I almost felt bad for her. Almost," she said, and he chuckled.
"I don't doubt it. She didn't intimidate you though, did she?" he asked proudly. Emma shook her head. If anything Emma had found the woman's presence to be comforting, almost motherly.
"She was really nice to me. I like her," she replied, and leaned on the counter as well, looking at him side-long, wondering what he was doing getting so cozy.
"So tell me, did you mention our little reel to Miss Blanchard this morning?" he asked her, his eyes twinkling with mischief. Emma giggled, recalling the look on her roommate's face when she'd mentioned it.
"Yes I did, and you should have seen her face when I told her you frolicked my brains out. It was priceless!" she said, he laughed softly, crossing his arms and smirking.
"I'll bet it was," he said, and Emma nudged him with her elbow.
"You're pretty light on your feet, you know. Were you ever a dancer?" she asked him. He shook his head.
"Other than the occasional thrill like I gave you last night I don't dance much," he quipped, and she snickered.
"A thrill huh?" she asked. He shrugged.
"The look of exuberance on your face last night makes that a safe assumption," he said, She looked annoyed, but pushed that feeling aside.
"Yeah yeah, I don't get out much," she retorted. He grinned.
"And were you able to get any sleep?" he asked, and she glowered at him.
"None to speak of," she said tersely. If anything the dreams I had last night were worse," she complained. She was not about to tell him about her little revelation regarding the strange man. He clucked his tongue in sympathy.
"In what way?" he asked. She shrugged.
"Just way more vivid, and weird. If that's possible. I'll be sleep-walking next," she replied. "I don't know what I'm going to do. I have to sleep," she complained. He pushed off the counter and made his way back over to the book shelf. He reached up and took down a green covered volume, and brought it over to her.
"Dreams, and their Mysteries Revealed," she read aloud. "Why are you showing me this?" she asked him. He handed it to her.
"Read it. Maybe it will shed some light on the meanings behind them. Mind you, I'm in the business of selling, not lending my books, so treat it with care. If you don't, I know where you live," he said in a teasing threat. She took the book and smiled.
"Oohh, I'm trembling, you dark and sinister man you," she replied dryly. He chuckled.
"You should be," he teased. She smirked, and in truth, she probably should be at least a bit intimidated, but she wasn't.
"I have my cuffs, if you try anything funny, remember that Gold," she teased back. He flicked his eyebrows upward in a way that made her want to hit him, or...yes hit him, just hit him.
"Oh now, that's an open invitation to try something funny, now isn't it?" he answered in that lilting Scottish brogue that made her knees turn to jello.
"You make it sound like you like being cuffed Gold," she said coolly. He smirked wickedly.
"And how do you know that I don't like being cuffed Sheriff? Did you see me putting up a struggle when you cuffed me that night you arrested me?" he teased. Emma eyes flared wide.
"Oh God! I'm so not having this conversation with you!" she cried, and he laughed.
"You are the one that brought up the cuffs sheriff, not me," he reminded her. "I see where your pretty little mind had wondered this morning," he quipped. She blushed.
"Leaving now! Thanks for the book, I'll take good care of it," she said turning to leave. He chuckled once more.
"Have a pleasant day, Emma," he said, inclining his head to her. She looked back over her shoulder and he was watching her walk away with interest. She picked up her pace and exited the shop quickly. Gold sighed, and turned back his shelves. Emma Swan would be the death of him. If not with her wit, and fearlessness, then with the graceful hip-swaying gait he observed her using each time she exited his shop. It wouldn't surprise him at all to find out that the little minx knew exactly what watching her walk away did to him. He had no idea why he kept flirting with the woman, but he really needed to stop it. Romantic entanglements always breed trouble, and he knew that better than anyone.
Emma read through the book, and tried to analyze her dreams. None of the meanings made any sense at all. She sighed and lay it down on her desk. She needed to give up the ghost and talk to Archie. Maybe he could help her find a way to get some sleep. She headed over to his office, and asked to speak to him. He was happy to listen while she told him what she'd been dreaming about. When she was done he had made some notes on his legal lad, and looked up at her.
"It sounds to me like you are overwhelmed Emma. The jumping dream is contingent with looking for an escape, and the being yelled at by someone, like Mr French for example, is fear that you aren't doing your job, and you are being ridiculed by those you serve, and protect. The mayor comes into play because of the issues you have with her in waking life," he said to her.
"And the strange man?" she asked. He sighed.
"I think you are lonely Emma, and you have created this 'dream guy' to play out things you wish would really happen. It's just a guess, I can't really delve too deeply into the meanings without knowing more background to help with the analysis. I suggest taking a break from stressful situations, maybe a hobby would help?" he recommended. She nodded.
"Maybe, I don't know Archie, these felt so real! It was like I was really there living it!" she said, biting on her lip. "He felt the most real of all, and so familiar. Like I'd known him for years," she shrugged helplessly. Archie sighed.
"Look, try some de-stressing, especially before bed. Find your happy place, and go there," he said kindly. "And maybe, try going on a date," he suggested finally. Emma nodded, but she was doubtful de-stresssing would work. And a date, not frigging likely
"Thanks for listening Archie," she said standing up. He smiled.
"Sure Emma, anytime. It's what I'm here for after all," he gestured to the door. "If you don't mind, My eleven o-clock is here," she nodded.
"Yeah, I'm leaving. See ya round," she nodded in his direction.
"See ya Emma," he replied.
Emma was about to go crazy. She'd hoped to catch some rays on her lunch hour, but didn't happen. She had a traffic thing to deal with, and happy day Mr. French to deal with as well. She wasn't too pleased with him anyway. It had only been a dream, but it had really upset her. Jefferson walked up the street as she was finishing up the report.
"Let me explain this clearly, and I'll use small words," she snarled. "This is a white zone. You can't park this green monstrosity here. This is the third time, so you get a ticket," she told him.
"This is stupid place for a white zone! There's no parking anywhere!" he complained, taking the ticket from her outstretched hand.
"Tell it to the mayor. Then she can approve funding to make more parking," she told him. " Park here again and you'll find this thing at the impound. Have a nice day," she said, and he blew out an exasperated breath, and got back in his van mumbling. Emma turned around to see Jefferson standing there smirking. She made a face at him, he made a more exaggerated one back, making her snicker.
"Hey sweetie. You look like you are having fun," he said as Mr. French sped away. Emma rolled her eyes and sighed.
"Oh yeah. I can't take all this fun. Stupid oaf! On a lighter note, I have some good news for you," she said reaching into her bag and taking out a paper. "Congrats, it's a girl!" she said in her best radio announcer voice. Jefferson grinned. Emma had run a DNA test on him and Paige, no Grace. Her name was Grace.
"I told you so," he said, with mock snideness. Emma backhanded him playfully on the chest.
"Yeah yeah," she looked at him sheepishly. "I'm sorry I didn't believe you, but can ya really blame me?" she asked him. He looped his arm around her shoulders and one-arm hugged her.
"I guess not, although you still don't believe me about..." he began, but she cut him off.
"I believe you are the good kind of crazy, that's what I believe," she said. He chuckled.
"As opposed to what? The bad kind of crazy?" he asked.
"As opposed to being crazy and stupid enough to lay your hands on a trained bounty hunter in a manner she doesn't want to you to," she said recalling August's version of crazy with a grimace.
"Fair enough. So, do you still need a deputy sheriff?" he asked her. She shrugged.
"I'd love to have you, but are you sure you're up for it, what, with the...?" she stopped and gestured at him in a you are more than slightly bent way. He nodded.
"I can contain the crazy. And if I can't pass the metal evaluation well enough to serve in an official capacity, then I'll help out when I can, I mean really, what else am I going to do for the rest of my sentence?" he asked her ironically. Emma sighed.
"I appreciate it Jeff," Emma said and he let go of her.
"Don't mention it Em. See you later," he said with a little wave.
Emma headed back to the station for a while, but the rest of the day was dull, so she got out of there just as fast as she could, and headed over to Granny's to pick up some dinner. Ruby was there, and greeted her with a wave.
"Hey there girl! Food, or drink?" she said leaning on the counter and smiling.
"Both, I'm not driving. Roast beef, and chili cheese fries, sounds good, and gimme the usual while I wait," she rattled off. Ruby winked, and pulled out a tumbler, filling it with amber liquid. Emma smiled and lifted her glass to Ruby. You are a good woman, here's to you," she said and downed it in one swallow.
"Another one?" Ruby asked her. Emma nodded.
"I'll try to savor this one a little longer," she said with a grin. Ruby winked.
"One of those kinda days eh? I'll leave it here in case you need more," she said and flounced off to get Emma's food. Emma sipped at the drink, and sighed. Maybe if she got drunk enough she could pass out in a stupor and get some sleep that way.
She heard the door open, followed by the step-tap sound that Mister Gold made when he walked. She put her head down so that her hair would fall across her face, and she wouldn't have to speak to the man. He shuffled over to a booth and sat down. Ruby brought him a cup of coffee and and took his order, then walked away quickly. She didn't hover over him like she did every other male customer.
Emma realized she didn't have to worry about him noticing her. He was off in his own world, lazily tracing the rim of his coffee cup with his finger. She watched him for a moment through her hair. He fidgeted a lot, seeming to need something to do with his hands. She could think of a few things she'd like him to do with them, {bad brain, very bad brain!} Emma took another sip of her drink and resumed Gold-watching. Archie had told her to get a hobby after all.
She noticed an odd movement he kept doing. He'd run the pad of his finger around the rim of the cup, and lift it off in the same spot, as if avoiding touching that one spot. She thought maybe that he was a tad OCD, and that was the spot he planned on drinking from, but when he picked it up and put it to his lips it was the opposite side of the cup he kept avoiding. She watched him drink from the cup and then set it back down again, before resuming the tracing motion. It was oddly mesmerizing.
Man it was getting warm in there. It must have been the whiskey, because Emma was about to break into a sweat. She slipped her jacket off and lay it on the stool next to her., and fluffed her hair away from her face. When she glanced back over he was staring out the window, and though he'd abandoned the cup for the moment, he was now running his thumb back and forth over the handle of his cane. Emma's mouth went dry as she watched him languidly stroking the brass end.
Without halting his movements he reached for his coffee cup and raised it to his lips again. Emma moistened her own and found herself thinking about his lips, the lips that were so often curled up in a wicked smirk when she was around. She wondered what they'd feel like moving against hers. Were they as soft and sensual as they looked? She swallowed hard when he moved the cup away and his tongue darted out to sweep away the drops of liquid left behind, smacking his lips softly. Emma bit her bottom lip hard to suppress the small sound that had almost escaped her. It had gone past warm to downright hot in there. Emma knew that she had to look away from him, or risk making an ass out of herself.
But he was so, well.. what was he really? Handsome, oh yeah, he was handsome alright. Sexy, yes he was that too, she had to admit it to herself. He could melt butter with one of those gazes of his. And that voice, that sultry voice that made her tingle. Speaking of tingling, the was he was absently caressing his cane was making her do just that. She could imagine him paying that kind of attention to her, his lips running over her heated skin, his hands stroking, and caressing her in places that made her blush.
"Hey, earth to Emma!" Ruby said loudly, making her almost jump out of her skin.
"What!" Emma cried even louder, and tearing her gaze away from Mister Gold before he caught her staring, as Ruby's outburst had startled him as well.
" I said your name like three times girl!Where were you, and who were you there with?" Ruby asked with a nudge setting her food in front of her. Emma swallowed hard again and cleared her throat.
"No, nowhere, with no one. I was just lost in thought," she trailed off. Ruby sniggered.
"Ah don't be ashamed. I know that look well. You were having a psychic quickie with someone weren't ya," she said with a wink. Emma flushed with color.
"Ruby! I was not!" she lied. "I was just thinking," she began...
"About, polishing a cane maybe?" Ruby supplied, and then laughed at the killing glance Emma sent her way.
Ruby really needed to learn to keep her voice down! There was no way he hadn't heard that, and he was the only guy in the room with a cane! She pulled out her money and tossed it on the counter, and grabbed her jacket, and her bag of food. She knew she shouldn't but she spared a glance over at Mister Gold, and the infuriating man met her gaze with interest, sexy smirk in place. He nodded to her, and then he did that incredibly sexy eyebrow flirty thing. Emma turned and exited the diner as if wolves were at her heels, and right now, at this moment, she'd have welcomed the wolves. To bad there were no wolves in Storybrooke.
A/N *fans self* Whew! Love me some Gold...Anyways, what do we think of Ms. Coachman? If you want a voice to put to her think Julie Walters, aka Mrs. Weasley from HP. That's the voice I keep hearing in my head when I write her. Yes she is a fairy godmother, as if the name didn't give it away. I decided to not make her a nun. CPS is a good place for a fairy godmother to work after all. Why does Mister Gold not mind dealing with this particular fairy godmother? All shall be revealed in time. Oh and I plotted this story out before 'Dreamy' aired, so I'm gonna take some liberties with fairy godmothers in the course of my little tale. Hope it's makin sense to y'all! Reviews! Please! :)
