A/N: So I am back after nearly a day and a half. I apologize for my lateness, but my drum core and vocal prep schedules had been absolutely mad! Either way, here is the sixth installment to this story, in which I hope to break even and make it up to two thousand words, but I'm not so sure that is going to happen, seeing as it is two in the morning and I still have to write my English Essay, study for my Bio AP and Spanish AP finals and on top of everything else, I'm planning on dolling out another chapter of my The Vampire Diaries story, as well as my Pan Am one. Whew, I'm am just booked this morning. Anyway, I hope my scattered train of thought doesn't deter anyone from reading this chapter! As always, review, review, review!
"So, how was he?" Mary Margaret asked, excitement in her tone, as we both charged down the hall of the elementary school. It was Mary Margaret's lunch break, so I had come by to pick her up for the second official Operation Cobra meeting. Of course the first thing she had asked would be about Graham.
She had seemed to have gotten in her head that our leaving her apartment had implied that we had gone back to his place to do…things. When in all actuality, we had really gone to see Ruby. She was always the one to go to for under-the-table liquor sales. Plus we all know from experience that she was quite good at keeping secrets. So, we had sat out by the dumpsters and had gotten completely wasted. Of course, I wasn't about to let Sister Mary Margaret know that.
"We didn't do anything." I whispered, as a flock of screaming children ran past, on their way to the cafeteria, or recess no doubt, "We just…talked…"
"Sure you did." She chuckled, as she stepped into the passenger side of my car, "Well," she began, her impish little grin back in place, "When you're ready to talk for real, I am more than prepared to listen." With one final giggle, she faced forward, and we were off once more, on the way back to Mary Margaret's small abode.
"Okay, so first thing is first," I started, clasping my hands, collapsing on the end of the couch, far enough away from Graham that Mary Margaret wouldn't feel obligated to interrogate him as well, but close enough to where when he stretched his arm out on the head of the couch behind me, his arm just barely brushed my back, making me shiver, "The mayor still thinks you're dead." I told Graham, not even turning entirely turning in his direction. He knew I was talking to him, and out of the corner of my eye, I could see his hand clench into a tight fist, "Let's keep it that way."
A thought popped into my head then. Sitting with the closeness between the two of us, I suddenly realized that I wasn't so opposed to the things that Mary Margaret had been implying. I realized I would've actually been okay with it if we had just skipped out on the cheap liquor, and had just gone back to his place. That would've made it real though. Thus far, this was my part of the fairy tale. This was where I got to have some time in content blissfulness. That would have sealed the deal, though. It wasn't exactly a secret that I was notorious for one night stands. That wasn't what I wanted this to be though. I just wanted this thing that Graham and I had going to be my shameless little endeavor into the unknown.
"What do you think she's going to say when she doesn't hear anything about a funeral? Eventually she's going to figure it out, Emma." Graham asked, craning his neck to give me one of his most cocky of grins. This one was a bit out of place, though.
"Look, soon enough, she's going to figure out you're alive, and when she does, she's going to manage to squeeze your whereabouts out of Mr. Gold. She's going to try to come after you the old fashioned way."
"It isn't like I'm a vampire, Emma. Keep in mind I am- was- the Sheriff of this town. I know how to work a gun. She'll sooner be killed then kill me." His grin was gone. He had a determined glint in his eye.
Mary Margaret brought us back to the present with a slight cough, which seemed uncharacteristically Henry-esque. That seemed like it was typically his job from the get go. I had had to walk past Henry in the school that day without mentioning a word about Operation Cobra. This was less of an Operation Cobra deal anyway and more of a 'saving Graham's hide' meeting.
"Any ideas, Mary Margaret?" I ask, figuring she wouldn't have interrupted unless she'd had something dead important to say.
"There are some caves down by the town's entry. If push comes to shove, and Madame Mayor ends of finding out about Graham, I could take him to the caves, and we could hide out there for a couple days. Just until we can get some real progress done on the whole end of Storybrooke thing." She added, falling into silence. Some small talk and banter followed by a longer, more monotonous and awkward silence.
"Caves you say?" Graham finally asks, "As in caves that used to be mined? As in- the seven dwarves?" Really? The first thing he thinks of is those creepy little midgets?
Of course, I guess it makes sense, though. He wanted to get out of Storybrooke as fast as humanly possibly, because the longer he stood here, the lesser chance he had of making it back into the Kingdom in one piece. So really, the only chance he had was with Henry's book. And he was going to honor that. And if that meant look for little mining midgets; and if that meant that he had to hide out from the rest of the human population, by God it was going to happen.
I couldn't exactly put my finger on why, though. He had been the Sheriff for as long as Storybrooke had existed. And I knew as well as anyone, anyone who joined the police force was trained to put everyone before themselves. Graham seemed to be making an adjustment to that rule. I knew wholeheartedly that when it came to me, Henry, and most likely Mary Margaret, he would travel hell and high water to make sure we were safe, but everybody else fell by the wayside. I had to think it was because of the near loss of his life that this change had occurred.
That was when I knew, through that one comment; he wasn't going to kill Regina. He was going to make her life a living hell.
A/N: So here is the sixth chapter. Not my best writing. I tried to dig further in to Emma's Bounty Hunter and Bails Bonds person background. I think over-analogy is one of their strong suits, so I figured my best bet was very little dialogue and a whole lot of thinking. Like? Dislike? Let me know.
Songs I listened to while writing this chapter: We're Not Gonna Take It by Twisted Sister, Come By the Hills in the styling of Damian McGinty, Back to December by Taylor Swift, Candles by Hey Monday. Has my song choice been affecting my writing style? Leave a comment and let me know. This is an experiment I'm doing to my Bio AP class.
I am still loving all my reviewers! xMags
