Disclaimer: I own an extensive collection of digital Buffy comics (Thanks Dark Horse!), but not Once Upon a Time or any of these characters.
A/N: I tried to get this up before the premiere, but alas, ear wax. Dumbledore jokes aside, I'm really going to try to update on a regular schedule. How regular the schedule ends up being, is still up in the air. However, gentle reader, take solace in the fact that this is an Emma POV chapter! YAY! See end of chapter notes for info on what's coming up in future updates. Also I gave Gold a first name. Just because.
Something inspires the only cow of late
To make no more of a wall than an open gate,
And think no more of wall-builders than fools.
Her face is flecked with pomace and she drools
A cider syrup. Having tasted fruit,
She scorns a pasture withering to the root.
She runs from tree to tree where lie and sweeten
The windfalls spiked with stubble and worm-eaten.
She leaves them bitten when she has to fly.
She bellows on a knoll against the sky.
Her udder shrivels and the milk goes dry.
-Robert Frost
Emma
Tuesday October 25th 6:12am
This was the part that Emma hated. The waking up part, with the inevitable day-after regret (and nausea) that accompanied a night spent indulging in way too much alcohol.
She burped.
"Urgh."
Her eyes remained tightly shut, as she waited for the mattress underneath her to stop moving. She was exhausted, and unsurprisingly, she felt like shit. Her neck was stiff, her back was sore, and her mouth tasted like she'd licked an ashtray. She groaned with that realization, because it meant that she'd probably finished off the last of her 'emergency' pack. Again. She really needed to quit for good. It was getting too expensive to keep the habit, especially now that Boston upped the cost to nine bucks a pack.
Another wave of nausea hit her hard, making her wonder exact what she'd been drinking. And with whom? There were only a few possible suspects, Ben and Tiffany from across the hall making up two-thirds of the list. Maybe the duo had finally made good on their promise to drag her out, against her will. They'd practically been stalking her.
She really did hated her neighbors.
The sound of retching broke through the silence of her bedroom.
Emma frowned into her pillow, trying to piece together why either Ben or Tiff would have stayed the night. They must have had a fight, dragging her in the middle of it. Then one or both of them probably got completely plastered and was now puking his/her guts out all over her bathroom.
They better fucking clean that up.
Thankfully, the vomiting stopped fairly quickly.
Emma stretched against the mattress, wincing at the squeaking of old springs. She hated that noise. It was so grating, like that sound made when the button on your jeans scrapped against the inside of the dryer. Literally the worst noise ever. When she'd moved back to Boston, she'd immediately chucked the old spring mattress that came with her place and bought a brand new Tempur Pedic. It was the only thing she'd splurged on during the move and it had definitely been worth it. She loved her bed.
Which begged the question...
Where the hell's my mattress?
She carefully opened her eyes, expecting pain from the morning light. None came. The room was mostly dark, only lit by a sliver of fluorescent lighting that came from a crack in the bathroom door.
Emma blinked a few times. She was facing a wall and could barely make out a floral print wallpaper that must have gone out of style thirty years ago.
Better question. Where the hell am I?
She closed her eyes again, searching for her memory. Work had consumed all of her time recently, the last few weeks having been spent tracking down some douchebag embezzler who skipped out on his family. She'd found the dick by using an online dating site, agreeing to meet him at an upscale downtown restaurant. It wasn't the best date she'd ever been on, but it had ended well, with her pounding his face into the steering wheel of his rented Porsche. All in all, it not the worst birthday she'd ever had.
So why than, was she now lying in the bedroom that time forgot? Hadn't she gone right home after her 'date?' Had Ben and Tiff cornered her when she got there?
No it wasn't them.
She struggled to remember. Someone else had come to her door. It was...
Oh shit.
She wasn't in Boston anymore. She had followed her so-
Henry.
She had followed Henry to some podunk town in coastal Maine, dropped him off at his castle of a house, and then had the pleasure of being interrogated by his overbearing mother. After that, came three failed attempts at leaving town, culminating with a boozy night of Tequila shots with Henry's teacher, Ruby the waitress, and some Aussie librarian.
What the fuck was I thinking?
Clearly she hadn't been.
Emma curled up on her side, covering her eyes with her forearm. There was absolutely no reason for her to have stayed past that first night, and certainly no reason to go out drinking with a group of people she'd just met. Sure, they had been nice enough, Mary Margaret especially, but no. Just no. She wasn't that person.
Feeling the need to blame someone else for her current state, Emma thought of the one who had set all this in motion. The real culprit of her alcohol induced misery.
Regina Mills.
Henry's adoptive mother.
And the Queen bitch of Storybrooke.
This was all her fault.
The woman might as well have driven her to that bar and bought the first round, after sauntering into Granny's and monologing like she was auditioning to be the next Bond villain. And the worst part? Her hurtful words had been completely right.
Henry expected Emma to be someone she wasn't - a mother or a savior or whatever it was that he needed - and the longer she stayed in town, the sooner he would realize that she could never fill that roll for him. She couldn't be his hero. She would only disappoint him. And that... that would hurt more than any of Regina's cruel words. That would hurt more than anything.
Henry.
He had hugged her yesterday. And it was-
No wonder I went out drinking.
She groaned again.
Regina may have been right, but Emma still found solace in blaming her for the inevitable hangover she'd be facing in a few hours. She smiled, thinking of how frustrated the Mayor would be to learn she was still in town.
And she would.
The Bug was still parked on Main street, right in front of that old pawn shop. That's to it's paint job, the car was impossible to miss and given Emma's current inebriated state, there was no chance she was getting out of town before the Mayor passed it on her way into work. She was going to be so pissed.
Emma found that thought extremely satisfying. It was rare that someone got under her skin so quickly, but Regina Mills had managed it at their first meeting. And in the day and half since, Emma's opinion of her had not improved.
It wasn't just one thing either, it was everything about the woman. The way she dressed. The way she moved. The way she spoke. Like some goddamn nobility, lording over the peasants. Emma knew the type. She'd known them her whole life. They were the ones that would visit the group homes she lived in between foster families, shopping for children like they were picking out a puppy. Yuppies, who would flock to her, the cute little blonde princess.
Emma hated them. All of them. But, she had to pretend. To be perfect for them, because maybe they would like her. Maybe they would take her away. They never did, though. They always left her. No one wanted to adopt a six year old. They only ever wanted to babies. The innocent ones. The one's not tainted by the system.
Yes, Emma knew exactly who Regina Mill was; a rich thirty-something who spent a ton of money to adopt a baby.
Her baby.
To build the perfect family. The kind that Emma always wanted as a child, but could never have.
Henry might not see it, but he was one of the lucky ones. He'd always had a home and a mother who would never give him up or send him away. She loved hi-
"Mmmm," someone moaned next to her.
Emma froze as the bed shifted with a grating squeak. Her eyes went wide as a bare foot brushed against her equally bare leg, rubbing along her calf.
What. The. Fuck.
The moaning continued.
Emma could tell it was a woman.
On her bed.
A woman was on her bed, moaning.
...and she seemed to have misplaced her pants.
Oh God. What did I do?
Emma slowly rolled onto her back, nearly colliding with the warm body. They were so close. Too close. She could barely make out the woman, the light from the bathroom just illuminating a pile of messy brown hair on the pillow next to her.
Is that?
"No," she said in a scratchy tone. "R-Regina?"
Her guess really made no sense, but the hair was the right color and the woman had just been on her mind.
The body next to her froze... then started to laugh.
"Try again," the mystery brunette replied, with an equally raspy tone.
Emma recognized the voice immediately: Ruby.
She felt like an idiot. Of course it was Ruby. They'd been drinking together all night. When the bar closed, they probably stumbled back to her room because it was so close.
"Sorry Ruby," Emma replied as she sat up, too fast. The room went back to spinning.
"No worries," the Ruby replied, as she and her leather clad backside rolled off the mattress.
Good, she's still dressed.
"We didn't... uh..." Emma couldn't vocalize the rest of her thought. She looked around, trying to find her jeans.
Ruby laughed again, tossing the missing pants onto the bed. "Afraid not babe. Trust me, if we did, you'd remember." Emma watched her move about the room, collecting her possessions. "You're not really my type anyway," the brunette added as she sat down on the edge of the bed to zip up her boots. "But maybe I'm yours," she said, waggling her eyebrows. "You were flirting with me all night."
"Sorry," Emma said as she stood to put on her jeans. The room hadn't stopped spinning and her balance was... bad. "It's something I do when I get really drunk."
Ruby's boots clicked a path to the bathroom. "No worries," she called behind her. "Though piece of advice. It's probably not a good idea to try that with Mayor Mills. I realize she's smokin' hot, but I got the impression she hates your guts."
Emma nearly fell over, one leg still out of her pants. "What about the Mayor?"
Ruby's head came into view from inside the bathroom. "You're not into her?"
"No!" Emma nearly shouted.
"Then why'd were you complaining about her all night."
"Because she's the devil!"
"Uh huh," Ruby said in an infuriating tone. "Is that why you said her name a minute ago like you expected her to be lying next to you?"
Emma's eyes grew wide. "I'm still drunk. I don't know what I'm saying."
"Whatever you say." Ruby ducked out of sight, into the bathroom.
Emma nearly fell back onto the bed as she finished pulling on her jeans. She stumbled after Ruby intent on telling the girl off for daring to assume she could be interested in Regina Mills.
"Ruby, I'm no-" She stopped when she reached the entrance to the bathroom and spotted Ruby kneeling over something, someone. It was the librarian. What was her name? Lacey? The girl was lying in the bathtub with one arm draped over the side, completely passed out.
"I've got good news and bad news," Ruby said as she folded a towel several times, making a neat rectangle.
"Bad news first," Emma said closing her eyes and praying there wasn't a dead librarian in her bathtub.
"Well, unfortunately, she missed the toilet," Ruby said, indicating a pile of sick near Emma's foot. She pushed the towel behind Lacey's head.
The blonde looked down and frowned. "What's the good news?"
"Granny just hired a maid, so neither of us have to deal with that."
"Isn't she still going to charge me a cleaning fee or something?"
The brunette thought for a moment. "Probably." She grabbed another towel and covered the mess. "Maybe, don't mention it to her when you check out."
"So noted," Emma said, leaving the bathroom, suddenly exhausted with this whole situation. She collapsed back onto the bed and looked at the ancient alarm clock on the nightstand. It was just after six o'clock. She wondered how Ruby was even functioning.
"I've got to get ready for work," the girl-in-question said, running her fingers through her hair. "Can you make sure Lacey doesn't puke all over herself?"
"No promises," Emma mumbled into her pillow.
What she really wanted to do was kick them both out and sleep until noon.
She heard Ruby grab her purse and open the door. "Later Emma. Stop by the diner before you leave town, 'kay."
The blonde was asleep before Ruby closed the door.
When she woke again, the sun had completely risen. Emma shielded her eyes against the late morning light and rolled off of her stomach. Her nausea was gone, replaced by the predicted throbbing pain around her temples. "Never again," she groaned glancing at the alarm clock. It was just after eleven o'clock. Doing some quick math, Emma guessed she wouldn't be able to make it back to Boston until a half past four that evening; five if she wanted to take a shower beforehand. She ran her fingers through her hair.
Definitely need to shower.
Grabbing her phone off the nightstand, she checked to see if she had any new messages. There were no calls, but there was a text message from Mary Margaret.
Emma frowned. The school teacher's contact information had been added to her phone. Someone must have commandeered her cell at the bar. She guessed there were probably several embarrassing photos on the device as well. She sighed and clicked on the text, which read: 'Hope you had fun last night. I know you'll be heading back today, but keep my cell phone number. I would love to stay in touch.'
Emma looked at the ceiling, unsure what to think about Henry's teacher. She was very nice. Too nice, really, though not necessarily in a bad way. She was the kind of person that was only content when everyone else around her was happy. Completely empathetic. A wonderful listener. And very caring. The perfect friend, really.
Emma hesitated for a few seconds and then deleted both the text and Mary Margaret's contact info from her phone. She felt mildly bad about it, but she didn't do friendships. Relationships like that got too messy. And, besides, she didn't plan on returning to town. Henry had a nice, safe home here in Storybrooke. The fairy tale thing was weird, but then most kids his age were still talking to imaginary friends. He just had an active imagination. And he had a therapist to help him through it. If she stayed, it would just make things worse.
He'll be fine.
Emma got off the bed and looked around the room. It wasn't a complete disaster. She hadn't brought any extra clothing with her so there wasn't anything to pack. Her jacket was hanging on the back a of chair.
She walked into the bathroom, thanking God almighty that the tub was empty; Lacey must have left while she was still sleeping. Emma started the shower and let the tub rinse while she filled a glass of water at the sink and downed it in three gulps. Her head was still pounding, but she didn't have an aspirin. She hoped the water would be enough.
Just as she was searching the cabinets for a spare toothbrush, a loud knock sounded through the small room. Emma turned off the shower and re-entered the bedroom.
"Ms. Swan?" Ruby's grandmother called through the door. "Are you awake?"
Emma ran her fingers through her hair, straightening it as best she could, and then pulled open the door. "Hey Mrs. Lucas. I was about to come down. I just wanted to grab a shower before I checked out."
The elderly woman looked very uncomfortable. "I'm afraid I need you to check out now."
"Right now? I can't wait a half hour?"
The woman shook her head. "I just received a call from the Mayor's office..."
"Oh, really." Emma leaned against the door frame.
"Some legislators from the state assembly are coming for a week of meetings with the Mayor," Mrs. Lucas explained. "They'll be arriving in town at two o'clock and I need to have all the rooms ready by then."
Emma wondered if Ruby's grandmother knew just how ridiculous that sounded. "The state assembly, huh? That's what she's going with?" Emma could only laugh. She grabbed her jacket and slid it over her shoulders. "You realize no one's coming, right?
"I'm sorry about this." The older woman looked genuinely sad as she took the key from Emma.
"It's fine," the blonde assured her. "I should have left that first night."
Emma was done with Storybrooke.
"Do you have all your belongings?" Mrs. Lucas asked as they stepped into the hall.
Emma did a quick inventory of her pockets (she never liked to carry a purse as they were too easy to lose or have stolen). She checked off each item in her head. She had her phone, car keys, drivers license, and the small wallet she carried for travel. Positive that nothing was missing, she shut the door and followed Ms. Lucas downstairs.
"I hope you enjoyed your stay in Storybrooke," Mrs. Lucas said as they reached the front desk.
"Sure," Emma said, not even attempting to disguise her displeasure with the town. "I had a blast." She opened her wallet and pulled out her Visa card.
"I'm sorry, it's cash only," Ruby's grandmother said.
"Of course it is," the blonde sighed, going back to her wallet. She extracted a lonely five dollar bill.
What the hell?
Emma emptied the contents of her wallet onto the counter, then added her jacket's, and then her jeans'. It was all gone. All her cash. She was missing close to three hundred dollars; a small portion of the emergency fund she kept well hidden in her apartment back in Boston. The events of the previous night were still hazy, but Emma distinctly remembered paying for her drinks. And she definitely hadn't spent all that money on tequila. She wracked her brain, trying to understand what could have happened. The wallet hadn't moved from her jacket after she left the bar. It had been locked in the room upstairs where no one could have-
"Shit," Emma breathed.
"Is there a problem?" Mrs. Lucas asked, frowning at the obscenity.
Yeah. Your granddaughter and her friend ripped me off.
"Is there an ATM in town?"
"At the bank. It's just behind the post office. You can't miss it."
"Then I'll be right back," Emma said stepping away from the counter.
"Ms. Swan!" Mrs. Lucas stopped her. "You'll need to leave your car keys."
Emma didn't question it. She just tossed her keys on the counter and left without another word.
The trip to and from the bank didn't take long and Ruby's grandmother was nice enough to cut her a break, only charging her half price for the second night due to the hasty eviction. Once the bill was settled and her car keys were back in hand, Emma headed toward Main Street to pick up the Bug. She'd briefly considered confronting Ruby about the missing money, but doubted the girl would know much about it. Something told her it was Lacey who had the sticky fingers, and Emma didn't want to deal with that hot mess. At this point she just wanted to get the hell out of town.
She cut through the alley that ran along the side of Granny's, avoiding goodbyes from any familiar face who might be lurking inside the diner. Laying eyes on Main street, Emma stopped abruptly. She looked up and down the street, but her yellow bug was nowhere in sight. It had been parked in front of the pawn shop, but now...
That's just fucking perfect.
Emma took a deep and calming breath, that did jack shit. She wanted to break something. It had been years since fate had decided to rain this much shit down on her head in such a short span of time. Two days ago she was content with her life in Boston. And now? Now she was stuck in an episode of the X-Files. In less than forty-eight hours the son she'd given up for adoption had found her, cast her as the hero of his fairy tale fantasy, introduced her to her long lost mother (who was only two years older than her), and charged her with fixing his life and/or replacing his evil witch of a mother. Probably both.
Then, to top it all off, she's been robbed by a librarian and now her fucking car was gone – the irony of which was not lost on her.
She kicked the wooden specials board sitting in front of the Granny's diner, knocking it over.
"Hey!" called the only member of the local law enforcement. He approached her quickly. "Emma are you alright?"
"Not a good time, Sheriff," she seethed walking away from him, a new purpose burning inside her.
"What's wrong?" he asked, trailing after her like a lost puppy.
"Go away." She increased her pace.
He hurried to catch up to her, grabbing her arm. "Not when you look ready to do some damage."
Emma pulled her arm free. "Unless you plan on arresting me for assaulting a couple of planks of wood, your services aren't needed here."
She continued on her way, speeding up a bit. She didn't even entertain the thought of asking the Sheriff for help. She knew exactly why her car was missing. It was the same reason she'd been so unceremoniously thrown out of Granny's Bed and Breakfast. The same reason Henry had shown up on her doorstep. The same reason she'd agreed to do shots with a bunch of strangers. It all came down to one person.
"Where are you going?" He asked, still trailing her.
"To lodge a complaint with the local government."
The journey to City Hall was quick. Emma didn't say a word to the Sheriff, who continued to try to talk her out of doing anything rash... like punching the Mayor in the face.
She didn't listen to his appeals to her good sense. Her good sense was on holiday. She officially no longer gave a shit. She could remember only one other time in her life when she had been this angry at another human being and at the time she'd been incarcerated, unable to take out her angry on the source of her rage. But now? Now, the only thing in her way was Sheriff skinny jeans, and there was no way he was going to stop her from going to war.
"She's in a meeting! You can't just go in!" The Mayor's secretary said in near panic, as Emma stormed through the small waiting room. "Ms. Swan, please!"
Breezing past the girl, Emma pushed open the Mayor's door and entered the office, not once breaking her stride.
The Mayor rose from her chair immediately, her eyes wide with shock. "Ms Swan? What do you think you're doing?" She remained safely behind the desk, protected against face punches.
"You're a real peace of work. You know that?" Emma commented, placing both palms on the Mayor's desk.
The brunette's eyes looked past Emma's shoulder. "Graham, what is this?"
"I'm not sure," he said. "Emma's a bit upset."
"Yes, I can see that." Her gaze swept over Emma. "Is she armed?"
"Where is it?" Emma demanded, ignoring the comment.
"Where's what dear?"
"I don't get you." She shook her head at the infuriating woman. "I'm trying to leave town. Isn't that what you want?"
"By all means, go. No one is stopping you."
"Where's my car?"
The Mayor's eye's flashed with confusion. "How would I know where you keep that eye sore?"
"Because you had it towed," Emma supplied. "Or impounded. Or crushed into a cube."
"I did no such thing," the Mayor snarled. "I have no interest if you or your time in this town."
Emma snorted, "Bull shit. You just had me thrown out of Granny's."
"Mrs. Lucas is an independent business owner. If she's overbooked her rooms, that's hardly any concern of mine."
"I'm not an idiot Regina."
"All evidence to the contrary."
"WHERE'S MY CAR?"
"I. DON'T. KNOW."
"Ladies," called a calm, male voice to Emma's left. "Perhaps I can settle this."
Emma turned to see a thin, middle aged man with an expensive looking cane and an even more expensive looking suit, seated in one of the chairs that faced the Mayor's desk. She hadn't noticed him when she barged in, but...
She knew him from somewhere. He had been at the diner the day before. Hadn't he said her name? Is that why he looked so familiar? No, she knew him from somewhere else.
"How do I know you?" Emma asked, her anger dissipating as quickly as it had arrived, replaced by confusion and curiosity. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught the Mayor and Sheriff exchanging a look.
The man stood up, his right hand firmly clutching his cane. "You don't. Aedon Gold." He did not move to shake her hand.
Emma stared at him. "You own the pawn shop." She recognized his name from the sign. "The one I parked my car in front of..."
Shit.
"Yes, I do. And I'm sorry to say, I had to have your car removed." He didn't look particularly sorry. "I'm sure you understand. It was there for over a day and I have limited customer parking."
Emma noticed the Mayor sit back down, crossing her arms over her chest. She shot the blonde a look that screamed, 'What else you got?'
When Emma didn't say anything, the Sheriff stepped forward, addressing Mr. Gold. "Did Michael tow the car?" He was clearly trying to help what had quickly snowballed into one of the most embarrassing moments of Emma's life.
Mr. Gold nodded.
"I can show you where to pick it up Emma." Graham placed a hand on her arm.
Emma took a deep breath. The Mayor was still staring at her, which really was not helping. She faced the woman and gritted her teeth. "I'm sorry."
"Oh, don't worry about it, dear. We all make mistakes." The Mayor smiled. "And now that that mystery has been solved, perhaps I can help." She turned to the Sheriff. "Graham, have Michael wave the towing fee for Ms. Swan's car. Tell him it's a personal favor to me."
"You don't have to do that."
"I insist."
Emma looked down at the desk, unable to take anymore of the woman's smug expression. "Fine. Thank you."
She turned to leave but stopped. Her gaze found a pile of files on the Mayor's desk. Eye's wide, she stared at her own name handwritten across the surface of a closed manila folder. She recognized the seal of the Arizona Department of Corrections. Was that her prison record?
What the fuck?
"Is that-"
"Graham, would you please show Ms. Swan to Michael's garage?" the Mayor cut her off, causally sliding the stack of folders off her desk and into a drawer.
Emma wasn't particularly happy with the dismissal. "What the hell was that Regina? How did you get that? Those records are sealed."
The Mayor ignored her, continuing her commands to the Sheriff, "And once she's obtained her car, then please escort her to the town line."
"I asked you a question." Emma demanded.
"Graham," the Mayor insisted. "I have a busy schedule."
The Sheriff looked at Emma sadly. "I'm sorry Emma. It's time to go."
[5]
Michael hadn't been thrilled about waving the towing fee, but the Sheriff had insisted. Thankfully, Emma had been able to get her car back with only a few scratches to the drivers side door. It looked like the auto mechanic had used a coat hanger to unlock the door.
She sighed as she drove the Bug past the Storybrooke sign. In the rear view mirror she could still see the police cruiser that had escorted her. She watched as the Sheriff turned the vehicle around, and headed back into town.
Once he was out of sight, Emma took out her phone and dialed a familiar number.
After two rings Joe picked up, which surprised Emma. Her boss had a habit of letting his personal cellphone calls go to voice mail while he was at work.
"Emma?" He sounded worried. "Where have you been?"
"Hello to you too Joseph." When he didn't reply she added, "I'm in Maine."
Pause.
"What the hell for?"
She sighed. "It's a long story, but I'm driving back to Boston now." He didn't need anymore details than that.
"You moonlighting?"
"No. I'm not working at the moment. Actually, I might need to take some time off in the next few weeks."
Another pause.
"Everything okay?"
"Yes. No. I don't know yet, but I'm going to find out." She pulled onto route 22. "Look Joe, I need a favor." When he didn't inquire further, she went on. "I need to you look into someone for me."
She heard him sigh. "Emma, I like you, but you know I don't take personal stuff. And even if I did, I got too much going on right now to spare anyone. Especially if you're taking time off."
"I was actually hoping you could do this one for me, Joe. Off the books."
The longest pause yet.
"Are you in trouble?"
"No. I promise I'm not."
She heard a tapping sound and smiled. Joe had a habit of banging his pencil against his desk when he was about to cave to one of her requests.
"Who is this person?"
Knowing that her boss had two kids he didn't see all that much, she opted for the truth. "It's the woman that adopted my kid."
"Emma, that's not a good idea."
"I know how it sounds Joe, but I just need to make sure that he'll be okay with her."
It wasn't the whole truth, exactly, but Joe didn't need to know that. Emma wanted ammunition because the if Mayor had sealed prison records, then she was well behind the eight ball.
Since Emma was only seventeen when she was arrested, her public defender pushed the DA not to charge her as an adult. He argued that she was only an accomplice, after the fact, and that an adult conviction would greatly hinder her future job prospects. The district attorney had acquiesced and her juvenile record was sealed when she got out, just after her eighteenth birthday.
Emma didn't know how Regina got her hands on that file, but just knowing that the woman had it really pissed her off. A lot. For that reason, she felt no qualms about asking Joe (who really was the best at this type of thing) to go on a little scavenger hunt. If he didn't find anything then she'd leave it alone, content with the knowledge that Henry was in good hands.
But if he found something... well she'd cross that bridge when she came to it.
The tapping stopped. "I may not get to this for a few weeks."
"That's fine. I figured that would be the case." She hesitated. "I'd do it myself, but you and I both know your the best in the business."
He sighed, "Yeah, yeah. Alright, what's her name?"
"Regina Mills," Emma scowled into her phone. "She's the Mayor of a town called Storybrooke."
[to be continued]
Next Up: Henry and Halloween. Of note, I've mapped out the next ten or so chapters and Regina's first POV will be coming up shortly. Probably chapter nine.