TWENTY-NINE: MARGARITAVILLE
(In which Graham and Bo Peep have a problem with Civil Forfeiture and the Bail System, and Charming's a bigger douche than you thought.)
April was a miserable month. It rained every day and Emma's hours were spent at the Station doing paperwork. By the time May rolled around with Mother's Day looming, Emma just wanted a break from the monotony, the weather, and two more lawsuits - one filed by the man Cora killed to use his body to impersonate Archie and another by a fisherman that she'd turned into a fish... who was then caught by another fisherman and eaten for dinner and with his death lost his boat to an auction where Hook had purchased it with a bag of doubloons and then gave it to Smee after regaining the Jolly Roger for a cut of his catch; at least Smee had been happy to give the man back his ship in exchange for getting his former captain's vessel, but lack of a investigation into the missing persons reports in both cases left the Sheriff's Department liable for negligence.
Another deposition was not something Emma was looking forward to.
Nor the absence of - or worse, getting the cold shoulder from - Neal at Granny's. Which had left her buying overpriced coffee in cups with shitty lids that didn't stay on at the coffee shop down the street. Hence the coffee stain on her shirt as she answered a call from Miss Ginger - the old woman found standing on her front stoop and shouting "Quick catch that cat. It stole my wallet" - by chasing after a tabby cat, through backyards and allies, rather certain the cat had not stolen anything short of maybe the "reformed cannibal" witch's sanity.
This was not the sort of police work Emma would normally stoop too, but it was a distraction from the feeling of rejection, a gnawing sensation she suspected Neal had experienced both after Neverland and after his return. What she'd felt after discovering his fiancée, and his "I need her" paled next to the feeling now that wouldn't ease up and was probably giving her an ulcer. The sad truth: she was desperate just to run into him and to exchange a simple 'hello' - while craving more. And not even sex more.
With Killian, when he was avoiding her because of the kiss-curse thing or any other issue during their relationship, it was about the all-consuming distraction of his physicality that inevitably lead to make-up sex. With Neal... she just wanted her friend. She didn't have Elsa or Lily anymore, at least not without complicated inter-dimensional communication that conflicted with her attempt to cut back on powerful magic, and August... well... he was a pervert. Regina... they were always going to be frenemies more than anything else, particularly after the whole her murdering Graham thing, and sometimes it felt now like her step-grandmother was rubbing it in her face that she had the passionate romance.
Lately, though, Emma no longer actually thought Regina and Robin were anything to emulate and made her a bit regretful that she'd risked her soul and sanity for that marriage of a hot mess and a trainwreck. Actually, she was also regretting helping Ashley keep her baby, considering Ella turned out to have the IQ of a Teen Mom reality star and somehow ended up in charge of Mommy & Me even though she accidentally let her kid eat some magic mushrooms which caused Alexandra to turn into a boy and not age for over a year, but apparently that and psycho witches trying to use newborns as a human magical sacrifice was just the usual parenting problems for fairy tale characters.
That, or being stupid was a requirement of being a fairy tale princess, Emma considered, because she had sure made lot of dumb choices herself, culminating with some weirdly codependent, self-destructive gratitude fueled by pixie dust, spirochetes, and a hell of a lot of denial.
What rankled Emma the most was that no matter what, Killian Jones was always going to be someone who'd played a significant role in her life. It was a fact that she couldn't escape, and one that seemed to be an immovable obstacle between her and Neal. She understood why he felt the way he did. But understanding didn't equal acceptance, because if she accepted that he would never get over it, then there was no hope of ever finding Tallahassee.
On that morose thought, Emma turned into another alley, this one with no outlet, and a honed in on a rustling sound in the stacked boxes next to a smelly dumpster.
What followed was not her most graceful moment as Sheriff, but Emma managed to grab the cat without having to use magic or getting scratched - the latter which couldn't be said for her leather jacket. The cat was a mangy thing with patches of fur that looked burnt to go with clearly melted whiskers.
Grimacing, Emma darkly mused that it wasn't really a surprise to find someone was torturing animals in Storybrooke. She sometimes wondered if the Enchanted Forest had a higher percentage of homicidal sociopaths than this world... or maybe it was just that Regina had targeted all of her enemies who just happened to be, by percentage, those more prone to sociopathy and sadism.
...
Ten minutes later, Emma was pulling up outside the Pet Shelter. It was her luck that Graham was behind the counter handing over a hedgehog (named "Sonic" of course) to a woman with a small child wearing oven mitts. As the pair headed off, his gaze found hers and Emma crushed the uneasy feeling in her stomach. It wasn't an in love flutter, and had never really gotten past attraction back then, but it was a deep abiding affection and respect. And it was a lot of guilt. If she'd believed, she could have saved him. And then maybe they would have fallen in love... and she wouldn't have with Hook... but probably not Neal either... but she would have been better off with any alternative to Hook. She definitely would have been a different, kinder, better person these past years if she'd had a partner who cared about her well-being unselfishly and who wanted the best for Henry - and didn't have Enchanted Forest VD.
"Sheriff Swan," Graham greeted.
"You don't have to call me that," she retorted.
"I was under the assumption you'd dropped the 'Jones'."
"I never legally took it, actually," Emma admitted, something she'd not told Killian or her parents who were enamored of that patriarchal crap. She might have only taken 'Swan' because it was the first and only name she had and in spite of the pain attached to it, but it was hers, and if nothing else, the Dark One's dagger had proven how deeply she'd become tied to it.
Yowling from the box forestalled further awkward conversation and Emma set it on the counter, explaining, "Cat behind Miss Ginger's house. Looks abused."
Graham opened the box, revealing the pitiful creature and his genuine look of anger and compassion for the ally cat made Emma feel even worse. Sometimes if felt like she'd lost her capacity for empathy even before she became the Dark One, and it was only since the accident that it had been jarred back into working order... though it often seemed quite rusty from disuse.
As Graham handed the cat off to the veterinarian, she blurted out, "The Department offer still stands."
He sighed. "Emma, much as I enjoyed the work, I don't think-"
"I know it's weird, that you were Sheriff, but we don't even really do the deputy designation thing you, know, and-"
"It's not the title or pay grade or dental plan," Graham interrupted. "Those last moments we shared..."
"Oh... right," Emma uttered, wincing. "I'm... I'm sorry that I couldn't... that we... you have to know if you hadn't died, Graham, we might have... and to be honest, things between me and Neal right now... I'm not sure we even have a shot at a second chance, but I'm trying to focus on getting my own shit together, and I thought you were happy with Ruby-"
"That's not what I meant," he cut her off.
"Oh." Emma flushed, embarrassed, then furrowed her brow in confusion. "Then what?"
Graham grimaced and placed his palms flat on the counter. "I was attracted to you, Emma, I won't deny that, but it wasn't a physical attraction as much as it was to your dedication to justice, to not taking Regina's or anyone's crap. And it was a huge disappointment to return only to discover that you'd completely sold out, become as much Regina's lackey as I ever was. I spent twenty-eight years doing the dirty work of a corrupt institution that favored intimidation and evidence tampering over justice, Emma, and, quite frankly, given what's become of the Storybrooke Sheriff's Department under your tenure, I regret giving you that badge to fight against Regina's corruption. Because all you've done is emulate it."
Emma faltered. "You... you think I'm corrupt?"
"You have willingly let murderers run free, worked with murderers as your allies, arrested people for such criminal offenses as spilling wine on your dress during dates, violated Miranda Rights on a regular basis just because you were channeling Regina's holier-than-thou bitchiness, and until recently you were fornicating with an unrepentant rapist-murderer," Graham argued. "I thought you'd care enough to avenge my death, but instead you became best friends with the woman who raped me for three decades and then crushed my heart - and on top of that, you appointed your lover, who'd probably forced himself on hundreds of women in his lifetime, a reserve deputy, never mind that knighthood bullshit. And if all of that isn't offensive enough, you let your father run roughshod like some arrogant cowboy all over town, acting like he's above the law. You could replace Prince Charming with his twin brother, and the only difference would be James letting the villains drunk drive instead of the heroes, and charging slutty lingerie for his mistress to the Department account instead of diapers and Pottery Barn."
The bell on the door jangled before Emma could respond, and in walked the town's butcher who immediately gave Emma a glaring look and sneered, "Sheriff."
Graham nodded at Bo Peep, "I'll see if Fluffy is ready."
More kindly, the middle-aged auburn-haired woman addressed Graham, "Thank you, Mr. Humbert. I just don't feel safe without him."
Uncertain if she should leave or not after Graham had ducked into the back, Emma loitered just long enough for the butcher and former Enchanted Forest "rent collector" to set her surly gaze back upon her. The older woman had become a staple at City Council Meetings, when open to the public, as well as Town Hall Meetings, many of which she'd been dragged out of after being disruptive.
Crossing her arms, Emma challenged. "If you have something to say, Peep, just say it."
"Why should I bother?" the woman scoffed. "You've never answered a single one of my complaints."
"Well, I'm listening now, all right?"
Peep scoffed again. "All right, fine. My staff. I want it back. It's mine by right. Just because it possesses magic your daddy dearest needed years ago does not give your family the right to keep it, never mind for him to have taken it in the first place by breaking into my shop, laying in wait, and having your family's pet pirate physically assault me while he stood their smirking and making threats against my life and property should I fail to hand over my family heirloom. All of which I have on video and have repeatedly tried to submit at town meetings while trying to get signatures for a petition to reform this town's Curse-created despicable Civil Forfeiture law in order to put an end to the Sheriff Department's repeated abuses of power. Only, someone keeps threatening the victims to keep their mouths shut, and I wouldn't be surprised if this is just the latest threat."
"Ah... this?" asked Emma, bewildered, while vaguely remembering something about a magic staff they used to locate Anna.
"Someone poisoned my dog," snapped Peep, "by throwing a box of chocolates into my yard. Which I didn't even bother to report, considering I've received nothing but harassment since your got your stupid 'savior' ass trapped in that ice cave. Which is why I had to get Fluffy for protection in the first place, since I no longer have any magic and made the great mistake of going to your father to request he return what he took. But apparently, since I'm a villain who screwed over his family, and lack the right anatomy or by-marriage and adoption connection to excuse my horrible crime of adding a protection tax to the rent on your father's farm that he owed to King George, his brother's kingdom-bankrupting, homicidal father, I'm an irredeemable bitch.
"It wasn't enough that your father literally killed my business partners on the advice of some foreign teenage cunt in braids he knew for a day, and declared himself the provincial hero for freeing everyone of my tax-collection tyranny. And you know how that worked out? King George sent his own lackeys from the capital to raise the rent and collect the taxes, and because of my failure to keep up with our agreement, the one that meant our village didn't get plowed under for a summer castle, my sister and her husband were executed as examples of what happens when you break a deal with a tyrant. And did your shepherd dad even offer an apology for his incompetence and ignorance of the feudal economic system resulting in my niece watching her parents get murdered? No. He got to go play Prince and the great big hero didn't even have the balls to come out with his real peasant identity because he didn't want to trade down from Heir to the Throne to Consort to a Deposed Princess who orchestrated a illegal coupe for deciding he wanted out of the marriage contract he signed by throwing a bankrupt kingdom into a two front war. The stupid fool got his own mother killed, apparently ruined some other kid's life, and shipped you though a magical closet to Maine under, I guess, the assumption that some random hobo would miraculously show up so you didn't die of exposure, dehydration, and starvation in a tree stump in the middle of a fucking forest. But even with all of that, I'm the evil whore for being a tax collector and any property of mine your family needs, I'd better hand over without protest."
"I..." Emma sputtered out, "I had no idea he stole your staff and didn't return it, and I don't know about any harassment-"
"No, of course you don't," Peep scoffed. "You were too busy spreading your legs for your pirate, swooning like some debutante over a thug, which is exactly what Hook was. And when you weren't laying on your back like a good little princess, you got your kicks running your department like a reality show competition for unregulated vigilantes to take down arbitrarily-labeled villains in a world where people with guns and swords chasing humans for sport, punching them just to look tough, threatening their families and livelihoods, is what justice looks like!" she railed.
"Well, I can understand how your father thinks this is still the Enchanted Forest and it should be policed that way," continued the Butcher, "but after you took on Regina to replace Graham, I thought you'd be different. That if you brought an enlightened outsider's perspective after toppling the tyrannical Queen Mayor, there wouldn't be a need for the service I provided back in that world just to keep the people in my province from losing their homes. But I clearly overestimated how far nurture - or lack there of - would offset your family's selfish nature, because you're just the worst kind of cliché bounty hunter either world has to offer. Instead of justice, the moment you broke the Curse, you went about destroying the all-too-brief concept this town glimpsed before your holier-than-thou parents decided to screw the peasants and forget about people being held accountable for their crimes - which includes King George who ax murdered a man - by reinstalling the same fucking dictator into office so they could focus on making babies, teaching bullshit pseudoscience and revisionist history to our children, and scheming to get everyone back 'home' without actually giving anyone else a say in the matter. Just like when they cursed us all again so they could find you to save their next kid that they habitually neglected before the kid could even hold his head up and got busy trying to make another little brat they don't really care two shits about, like a five a year old bored with the guinea pig they got for Christmas by New Years, begging to replace it with a puppy."
At loss for any sort of defense, Emma was stood gaping like the goldfish in the bowl on the counter until the vet came out with a very large Rottweiler to end the excruciatingly scene.
"Fluffy's good to go," the man said. "He's very lucky."
"Thank you, Doctor."
Peep then gave Emma sneering look, telling her, "If you really aren't like your parents now that your brain VD has cleared up, maybe you should spend a little more time thinking about your stint in jail when you couldn't make bail and overcrowding and a fucked up court system gave you eleven months as a minor for a misdemeanor in prison and a little less on how good it feels to polish that badge and treat the shoplifters and petty crooks you pick up like the same worthless shit you were labeled - before getting that 'I'm better than all of you' tiara plunked on your head, Princess."
That said, Bo Peep shepherded the big dog out the front door, leaving Emma standing with the vet. And Graham watching from the hallway to the kennels, just to add to her humiliation.
The man in the lab coat cleared his throat awkwardly and gave Emma a nod and a, "I do hope you catch the culprit, Sheriff. Between Fluffy and that poor cat... I don't know if they're connected or if this was just some dumb kids with left over Valentine's Day candy, but they need to be held accountable."
Emma could only nod before metaphorical tale between her legs, she bid an uncomfortable retreat to her car and slumped behind the steering wheel, watching Bo Peep walking her dog back to her shop down the block and feeling well and truly scolded, like a dog that had chewed up the couch and peed on the carpet.
The truth was, while Henry, as a little kid, had thought her past occupation was cool, and Graham had seen it as qualification for a deputy job, Emma had never been proud of being a bail bonds person or bounty hunter. Oh, she'd enjoyed taking down scumbags who screwed over their spouses and kids - the reason she'd gotten into it while living in Florida - but there was a lot of unsavory stuff she hadn't anticipated, stuff she had to do that she didn't feel good about and regretted, but by then she'd had a job, built up connections, and settled into her next city and bail bonds business before discovering that just because Florida had Pre-Trail Services that kept the bail system from bankrupting the poor didn't mean the rest of the country did. Most states didn't, in fact, but they did make it easy to be a bounty hunter without any qualifications and with pretty much any criminal record, which given her lack of a high school diploma and bail bonds companies having all the necessary connections to get a sealed juvenile record, had worked in her favor. Plus, a lot of her job was actually getting paid to do absolutely nothing, a nice 10-15% chunk of the bail owed, whether the person was guilty or not, which had really helped with establishing credit and getting herself a place to live and car insurance.
What it boiled down to, was that she'd helped bankrupt a lot of poor people, quite a few who pled guilty to crimes they didn't even commit, just to get out of jail so they wouldn't lose their job, their car, their house, their kids while sitting in jail for weeks or even months waiting for a trail. She'd tried to offset that by only hunting down the bail jumpers who were guilty, but you could never really make up for helping to destroy someone's life so you could have a house, a car, a job... and bury the guilt of giving up your own kid while you were sitting in jail.
Angry as Emma had been at her parents for what they did to Lily, and even though she would probably never understand how they framed their self-centered motivations as in her and their family's best interest, she did understand making a choice that hurt good people so you'd hurt less. She also understood that her choices as a teenager had set her on a path that closed a great many better ones to her. Becoming a bounty hunter had been easy and portable, what with it being legal in all but four states to do pretty anything to bring in bail jumpers, including breaking-and-entering, shooting them, and dragging them back to the state where they'd skipped bail in the first place.
It was a job, a past, Emma had struggled with morally and hoped to leave behind when she became Sheriff - when Henry was still too young to think of her old job as anything but superhero type exciting. Reflecting on her time here, though, both Graham and Peep were right, Emma realized; she'd fallen all too easily back into the pattern of bail bonds and bounty hunter style "law enforcement". She had mistreated people she'd arrested, often without probable cause, just because they did something that ticked her off or she didn't like them and wanted them to stew for a bit. She'd done the sorts of things to people here that she'd posted bail for people out there to spare them enduring at the hands of jailers in institutions often notorious for abuse and neglect of prisoners awaiting trial.
Emma wanted to believe it was the brain damage - and the day drinking. She didn't want to think that she could really be that big of a hypocrite after the years of already feeling crummy about the system she'd tried to do some good in. Maybe it was. But she couldn't deny that part of it wasn't also the power trip, which she knew was part of some twisted sexual high that came with Killian and her father's Wild West approach to the job that made it so easy to feel like they were two Marshals up against a gang of murderous cattle rustlers and stage coach robbers in the days when the law was really more like guidelines. It wasn't, though, and it shouldn't be, not even in a town of fairy tale characters.
And if her father was really playing so loose with the never-rewritten laws Regina had made that people were getting hurt and taken advantage of, then Emma couldn't sit idly by and let it continue. She didn't want to believe it, and she probably wouldn't coming from just Bo Peep, but if Graham had somehow uncovered corruption... well, he was probably the only person she would trust at his word other than Archie. Which meant that, just maybe, she had to take the Butcher seriously.
With a sigh, Emma got out of the patrol car and headed to the Butcher Shop where Peep was dumping some raw meat into a dog bowl for a salivating Fluffy. The dog eyed her a moment, until Peep set the bowl down, then took that to mean Emma wasn't a threat and began to chow down.
"What do you want?" Peep demanded.
"You said you had a video," replied Emma. "Can I see it?"
Peep narrowed her eyes. "I've made copies."
"I'm not going to destroy it. I really do want justice."
...
Uncounted hours later, Emma sat at the video surveillance terminal in the cubical outside the interrogation room with her laptop and a strong cup of coffee. After Peep's video, she'd gone around to the businesses of other known fairy tale villains that Peep claimed were also harassed by David and Killian. Often they were there to collect information or items relating to the current magical crisis, and never in the manner of a professional sheriff and reserve deputy. No, it was always with breaking in (usually with Regina's skeleton keys) and unprovoked physical violence stemming from old grudges, even if the people had committed no crimes in Storybrooke and had been hoping the "clean slate/second chance" philosophy given to Regina, Hook, and (to a lesser degree) Rumplestiltskin applied to them. Both magical items and just any old thing that her father and late husband wanted were fair game for the pickings, including cash right out of registers.
When Emma added in old dash-cam videos, it just got worse with illegal traffic stops. More than seventy-five percent of her father's police reports contradicted or left out information on the videos that he'd downloaded to his computer after shift and thought he'd erased, if not for her disk recovery tool and the shitty old computers that were never upgraded until Neal had stopped in... which probably explained how Graham got word of the corruption. Because, of course, it got worse.
When David wasn't stopping fairy tale villains for fake tail light outages and turn signal violations to search their trunks and glove compartments for anything of interest, he was open-containers-of-alcohol joyriding with Killian or letting Mary Margaret use the siren while laughing over "scarring the crap" out of the cars they were behind. And, of course, if he ever pulled over any of his friends - the drunk and sleep driving Dwarfs in particular - he never did a sobriety test, and usually just asked if they were going to show up to 'Boys Night' at the Library.
Where, apparently, David had racked up a tremendous amount of gambling debt.
A review of the Department's budget and expense reports revealed that David had been giving himself raises and bonuses, since Killian's death collecting his part-time salary, and charging non-work expenses to the Office of the Sheriff, tacking on everything from leather jackets to diapers whenever they needed more office supplies or ammunition. The level of unrestrained corruption and thuggery that her father had been employing for years was astonishing. Graham had been right: James couldn't have done it better, and it was clearly the fact that David was Prince Charming, married to Snow White, the father of The Savior, and in a position of respect and authority amongst the people he treated well (overly well, in some cases), that no one had taken a stand to speak out about the injustice. Well, that and having a known murder/rapist psychopath who wasn't above handing over kids to a known child abuser/killer as his muscle.
Emma felt particularly ill over the video currently paused on the screen. It was one of those motion-activated nature cameras that Storybrooke's one-man Park Service had installed in the wildlife persevere to monitor various animals that passed by. On the video from last fall, Graham was seen getting out of a car only to be accosted by David first, up in his face, clearly trying to look intimidating while brandishing his badge, and then Killian had joined him, punched Graham the stomach, and kneed him in the groin for good measure. Considering the date stamp, and that just the day before Emma had offered Graham a position back in the department, the message delivered was pretty clear, even without audio: David didn't want any competition on the job and Killian didn't want a former suitor getting any ideas.
"I'm surrounded by chauvinist pigs," Emma sighed, a headache throbbing at her temples.
Finally shutting off the monitor and gathering her laptop, Emma headed for her office -
Where she found her father sitting at her desk, muddy boots up, eating the bear claw she'd been saving for later.
That the last straw.
"Hey!" David began in a chipper voice, "were you here the whole time? I thought you were on foot patrol again. Listen, do you think you could watch your brother and sister tonight so I could take your mother on a stakeout, if you know what I-"
0"You're fired."
She hadn't meant it to quite come out like that, but she was about to burst and throw some shit with magic.
"I... what?" David asked, bewildered.
"Hand over your badge and your gun," Emma stated evenly, "that you were never rightfully given in the first place. I joined this department to clean it up. You're supposed to be a hero. And instead I find out you're letting your friends get away with drunk driving, used Hook to beat up people so you could take anything you couldn't steal during traffic stops, and for everyone else you needed, you used Department funds. This is not your personal expense account for Timberland, Baby Gap, and paying off your cockfighting gambling debts!"
"I... Emma... it's not like that," David sputtered, standing, and looking a bit nervous.
"So, you're going to tell me that margarita machine in the break room was really a gift from Don Juan, and not from the money you took out of his glove compartment that you wrote up in a report he was taking to buy drugs, even though he told you on tape that it was to buy a car, and he had the online receipt to verify that before you took his phone and deleted it? And then you just happened to show up the next day with the very margarita machine Mom said you were not going to spend diaper money on?"
"I... um... you see, there's a very good explanation, Emma-"
"That we have a family history of alcoholism that requires coffee break margaritas?" Emma snapped. "Don't bullshit me, David. I've seen the business security tapes. I recovered all the dash cam videos you thought you deleted. And the personal videos you didn't of attending those gambling parties. And don't even try to pretend it was your twin brother, because they are date stamped! I know all of the personal property you've taken, the evidence you've planted, and the people you had Hook physically assault from Peep to Graham! You are Prince Charming and that's how you want to run things? Well, I may have lost sight of my job here thanks to heaping loads of family bullshit and brain-eating venereal diseases, but unless you've bribed Whale to falsify your last physical, you don't have an excuse for being a dirtier day drinking cop than Nottingham. I don't know if all of that shit was your idea, or if Hook blackmailed you with the massive gambling debt you've clearly been hiding from my mother, but you're not going to keep hiding it by siphoning money from this department. You are done here."
"Emma-"
"Don't make me melt your margarita machine, David!" she threatened, the lights flickering as she did so.
Looking mildly alarmed for the safety of his midday boozed-up slushy fix, Charming set his badge and gun on the desk and then hurried out, stopping only to grab his illicitly purchased leather jacket and Ray-Bans on the way out. As the lights ceased fizzling, Emma slumped into her chair, wondering what hellish backlash she had just brought upon herself by firing her own father. When George fired him as prince, he started a war. And that was all over a position he didn't even like... apart from the fancy weapons, the fancy clothes, the fancy carriages, and that everyone called him "Your Highness".
Yeah, she'd just emasculated Prince Charming and took away all his toys.
Emma was in some deep shit.
AN: Poor kitty and Fluffy. Who would do such a thing? I don't know; sadly, the pets were just a plot device, which is troubling, really, because, dude, someone is torturing cats and poisoning dogs in Storybrooke and I'll probably never address it again! If you're wondering why a Rottweiler, it's just the first big dog that came to mind, and then I Googled how to spell it, and wouldn't you know it, but Rottweilers were known as "Rottweil butchers' dogs" because they were used to herd livestock and pull carts laden with butchered meat and other products to market; now that is a cool coincidence! On the character front, I almost put Cora in this chapter to confront Emma, but a review inquiring about Peep made me decide to give all the good lines to her, instead. Ashley's kid bothers me immensely. Since the Once Upon A Time in Wonderland pilot had Ashley closing up Granny's right before Will broke in, I'm going with that she returned after the storm, found the mysterious rabbit hole and some Wonderland mushrooms scattered on the floor, which she took home and Alexandra decided to teeth on, because Ella is a terribly inattentive mother; as a result, Alex's growth was retarded and she changed gender. The law & order stuff was inspired by Last Week Tonight with John Oliver's pieces on Civil Forfeiture watch?v=3kEpZWGgJks and Bail watch?v=IS5mwymTIJU. Yes, Emma, you really should be ashamed of the system you perpetuated, just because it requires zero qualifications and let's you beat up the occasional actual douchebag. Who will think of the peasants in The Land Without Magic? Not Emma Swan. In between booting the cars of deadbeat dads, she was helping poor people lose their livelihoods to finance her high-rise apartments.
Next up: What do you do after firing your dad while guilt-tripping over your own lawless hypocrisy? Make like Rumplestiltskin and run for it, that's what!