Note to the readers: Wow, I'm thrilled at all the feedback everyone, thank you so much! To answer the question about Hook's Storybrooke name…Well, it is not a coincidence x] There was also a question about Jefferson asked to which I say...you bet his story is being involved, if the show won't give us a scene of the Hatter and Hook together than I'll do my best to make it as epic as it ought to be haha
Emma was seeing a lot more of Peter than she had in all the time she'd spent in Storybrooke. Mary Margaret assured her it was not all that unusual to see him around town and pointed out innocently that maybe Emma was just keeping her eye out specifically for the man. The look Emma shot her way kept her roommate from ever suggesting such a thing again. No, of course Emma was looking for him, why would she?
She pinned the sheriff's badge to its proper place, the weight of it still threw her off, as if the extra burden of responsibility had become tangible in the new badge. She sighed and grabbed her coat, leaving the apartment and heading over to Granny's. She ordered a coffee and slid into a booth, rubbing her hands together. Winter was fast approaching; the air had a bite to it that hadn't been there even a few weeks ago. She frowned; Emma tried to avoid thinking about a few weeks ago because she inevitably thought about Graham. Sighing into her mug of steaming coffee and closing her eyes as she inhaled the familiar scent, she did not hear someone joining her at her booth until that someone nudged her foot with his own. Her eyes snapped open, fingers gripping the mug more tightly ready to throw it at the intruder before she relaxed when she realized it was Peter.
"Good morning, love."
She frowned at the term of endearment. "Good morning yourself," she replied. "You know, the diner is pretty open right about now."
"Oh I'm well aware."
"So you just want to irritate me?"
Peter laughed. "You are a piece of work, is it so wrong of me to be friendly?"
"I just find it strange that you did not bother to be friendly whatsoever when I first came here. In fact," and she paused to smirk. "You only showed interest since I made sheriff."
He leaned in closer; his blue eyes boring into hers and honestly, the look he was giving her now out to be outlawed. It wasn't fair for a man to be this…sensual with the simplest of gestures and looks. What the hell was she even thinking? Emma forced her mind to focus. Obviously the lack of caffeine was the problem here and nothing else.
"Maybe I like the idea of a girl with some authority," he all but purred. "And one with handcuffs readily available at all times."
Emma's jaw actually dropped a bit and she could feel heat rushing to her face. She regained her composure as quickly possible, narrowing her eyes at him. "Got a few kinks to work out, McGurn?"
He shrugged. "Just like a little fun, is that a crime, Sheriff? Bad enough to merit some time in Storybrooke's fine jail?" He laughed and Emma assumed it must have been by her expression; a mixture of amusement, bewilderment and exasperation.
"It's too early for this," she complained, ignoring him for a moment to drink more of her coffee.
"I jest of course. I didn't see you when you first came in because I was working; I often go out on the boat and help with shipments. Storybrooke's port is too small for the larger vessels to get close. There, are you less offended by my absence now?"
"I wasn't offended, I just thought it was strange and now you've explained yourself and it's not strange and we're moving past it," Emma stated. Her phone rang and she glanced at who was calling and frowned. "Ugh, Madam Mayor calls."
"You have a good day, Emma," Peter said.
She wasn't aware of when they had reached the first-name basis and she rolled her eyes. "Have a good day yourself, Peter," she replied.
He waited until she left the diner before he got up himself. He caught Ruby's eye as he was leaving and dropped her a wink, earning a sultry little grin from the pretty girl before he stepped outside. He took a deep breath and headed back in the direction of the Pawn Shop. Normally he'd be fuming as his steps took him closer and closer to the shop, but today he was indifferent, at least in the matter of Mr. Gold. No, today his mind was on the sheriff. Peter wasn't sure what it was about Emma Swan that had him so curious and though he hadn't had proper time to get to know her, he would like to. Naturally her beauty drew him to her, she was a new mark to be certain and he was going to try and get a bull's eye as far as he was concerned, it was why he initially approached her when he got back from his work at the harbor but now he was finding her more amusing. Emma had a no-nonsense attitude that was refreshing, she was a challenge and it had been too long since Peter had a challenge. She made him feel like a kid again, bringing out his more devious antics and it had been so long since he'd felt this light-hearted, in fact, he couldn't remember ever feeling this light-hearted.
Peter let the door to the pawn shop slam shut behind him and was met with Gold's annoyed glare. "If you break the bell you buy me a new one," he chastised.
"Right, right," Peter replied, uninterested. He slipped his hand into his coat pocket and dug out the item his benefactor needed. It was a simple thing, really and Peter wasn't sure why he wanted a small order of sheep wool but it hadn't been available in Storybrooke and so the order had been placed and it was shipped. He tossed the spool of wool to Mr. Gold who caught it deftly and set it down carefully on the desk.
There was a simple reason Peter hated Gold. The man was responsible for his wife's death…he just couldn't piece it together, the how of it anyway. All he knew was that he did something and that was why Wendy died. As much as he ranted and screamed at Mr. Gold and no matter what complaints he brought to the mayor about it, there was no evidence at all that he had anything to do with Wendy's death and why would he? What would push Gold into an act so atrocious against a woman he had no history with? Peter couldn't answer that either, but he would find out. Even if the means damned his soul just a little bit more every day. He'd suggested it thinking Gold would be so off-put or disgusted that he would admit his wrongs, amend them and make Peter promise to never be seen near his shop again. But instead he had agreed and now Peter was in an awkward position. You don't break deals with Mr. Gold after all.
"How much longer?" he asked.
Mr. Gold looked up again, looking puzzled that Peter was still in the shop, but Peter knew it was an act. Gold often treated people like a nuisance rather than anything else. He was giving the other his full attention now though.
"Soon, I imagine, things are changing here after all," he replied vaguely. Peter could feel his temper rising and Mr. Gold narrowed his eyes. "Let's not start this again; I'll use the gun rather than the cane this time."
Peter swallowed his anger…for now. "What time then?"
"Same as last week."
Emma felt as if the air was only now returning to her at a regular pace. Today had been trying, to put it lightly. Regina called her to take care of twins caught shop lifting and when Emma learned they were homeless and parentless her heart had gone out to them. They reminded her so much of herself and she would not…could not let them go into the system as Regina wanted. It was painfully clear they needed each other, even without them saying it. Of course, it wasn't so easy as just calling up their father, who Henry assured her was in the town, because when she found him he didn't want to take them. Emma had been desperate when she pulled the car over and called for Michael, hoping that if he just saw Ava and Nicholas he would love them. And he did, Emma's heart soared when Michael agreed to take his children, to raise them as best he could and provide them a loving home. But it wasn't the only heartache she suffered.
For one, Ava and Nicholas reminded her once again of the fact that she still didn't know her parents, that they seemed to have done everything they could to avoid being found and it troubled her. She was twenty eight and was no closer to finding them as she was when she started. And then there was Henry, Henry getting curious about his own father and how could Emma tell him the truth? Talking about Neal would hurt, would crack the sturdy defensive walls she built and she wanted Henry to believe his father was a hero, not a thief, not someone willing to let her go to prison for a crime she didn't even commit…unless loving Neal was a crime, which it turned out may have been true. She couldn't sleep, her joy at Ava and Nicholas's safety battling her sorrow over her own lost family made it impossible to relax so she snuck quietly from the apartment to go for a walk through town.
She wasn't walking long when she saw a familiar face. "Oh you've got to be kidding me," she muttered as the person in question lifted his hand to give her a wave.
Peter McGurn looked a little worse for wear but he was covering whatever troubled him swiftly enough as they neared each other. Emma crossed her arms, pausing in front of him, smiling lightly despite herself. "You can't sleep either?"
"You know despite the lack of a night life in this town, not everyone goes to bed before ten o'clock, love," Peter countered. "Though, your question leads me to believe that you're having trouble shutting down that mind of yours. What's troubling you?"
"Ohh that is not open for discussion," Emma laughed. "Besides it's nothing simple…in fact, it's nothing at all so there's nothing to discuss."
Peter lofted a brow in question, clearly not convinced. "I think you're under the impression that you're hard to read, the whole tough attitude, might be off putting to some, I find it quite invigorating myself. You're a bit of an open book, love, hate to break it to you."
"Am I?" she hid the curiosity in her tone.
"You are," Peter answered, sounding amused. "But it's all right, I won't spoil the surprise of how much I already know about you already, but, if I were to guess I'm sure I'd be right on. Let's figure it out over a drink sometime."
"You're pretty confident that I'll even agree to having that drink," Emma pointed out.
"Oh you'll agree," Peter replied. "Because now you're wondering if I am right and if I am how much I did surmise without even one word from you. So yes, soon as I ask to collect on the offer you'll agree."
Emma hated that he was right but she wouldn't let it show. "Collect? Now this is starting to sound like one of Mr. Gold's deals." She got him on that one, his cheerful demeanor changed to one far darker and Emma decided she did not like that expression one bit. It promised danger. "But sure, you're right, I'll go get a drink with you sometime," she added quickly. It solved the problem, he brightened up again. "Where are you coming from anyway? And don't say the docks, you use that excuse far too much."
Peter considered her for a moment. "Settling a deal," he finally replied and that danger still colored his tone, it suggested that she would put herself at risk if she dared to ask for more details. As curious as she was, Emma didn't know Peter well enough to take that risk and though she was armed and more than confident in her abilities, she didn't want needless violence if it could be avoided. "Shall I walk you home?" he asked.
She saw how tired he looked, hidden under the mischievous visage and she smiled. "I'm coming from home, so no, I don't want to be led back there quite yet. You look exhausted, Peter, you should be the one going home."
Peter smirked. "Good night, Sheriff."
He continued onward, passing by her and Emma frowned. Maybe they weren't on a first name basis then, or maybe comparing him to Mr. Gold had offended him more than she initially figured. She wasn't sure, but it bothered her that he went back to her title. Get a damn grip on yourself she thought savagely before storming off down the street. One thing was for certain, she wasn't going to be sleeping at all tonight.