Chapter 4: The Sheriff

Belle was sitting comfortably behind the counter of the library, sipping some tea and enjoying a book when she heard the door open. She lifted her head up and found Will staring nervously at her. He was standing by the door, hesitant to step in, one of his hands hidden behind his back.

"Hi, Will, come in," she said smiling.

"Hi, Belle, I hope this is not a bad time…" he trailed off, taking a few steps in her direction.

"Not at all. What can I do for you?" Belle asked.

"I - I brought you these," Will said as he removed his hand from his back and presented her with a bouquet of gardenias. "I wanted to thank you for the books."

"You didn't have to," Belle said, taking the flowers. "They are beautiful, thank you." Her fingers carefully touched one of the petals. "There - there's a special meaning to gardenias…do you know what it is?"

"Aye… your father told me," Will said, scratching behind his ear.

Belle blushed and averted her gaze. Will took one more step towards her.

"Belle," he said softly, and she lifted her head, her blue eyes meeting his. "Lass, I know I have next to nothing to offer, other than a troubled past. You - you definitely deserve better and it's a crazy thing to come here and hope that you'd give a poor sod like meself a chance." He took a deep breath. "But you have to know one thing for certain: if I ever get lucky enough to have you give me a chance, I'll fight for you everyday."

His brown eyes bored into hers before his hand reached out to hers, caressing her fingers. "I'll fight everyday to deserve you , to- to never let you down," he said before blushing deeply and turning around and leaving her speechless.

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Granny had been trying to convince Killian to go out on his day off, encouraging him to take a walk and clear his head, get to know the town a little. He'd been throwing himself into work, not only waiting tables but helping out with supplies, carrying boxes and even going around fixing stuff. He also started to deal with suppliers and managing the staff schedules, much to Granny's satisfaction. After all was done, he'd hole up in his room, a glass of rum and a book for the remainder of the evening.

"Go out! Live a little!" she encouraged him.

"It was me taking the concept of living a little a little too far what landed me in jail, Mrs. Lucas," Killian replied.

Granny scoffed at him, "I am kicking you out of here, Killian!" She pointed her finger at him to prevent his interjection. "And I don't want to see you back here until at least late this afternoon."

"What does one do in this wretched town?" Killian murmured annoyed, seriously contemplating spending the entire afternoon holed up in the local bar with a bottle of rum.

Granny cleared her throat. "I happened to notice that Emma hasn't come by in a few days. I heard she's been very busy looking into some shady business." She smiled to herself when Killian perked his head up attentively. "I worry that she's not eating enough."

Killian scratched behind his ear, feigning nonchalance. "If I am heading out, I could - you know - swing by the station and bring the lass something to eat."

"That would be very nice of you, dear," Granny said.

"It can be considered my civic duty towards the town safety, right?" Killian smirked.

"Most definitely."

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Emma had been buried so deep in paperwork that she didn't noticed anything until she heard a soft knock on the doorframe. She lifted her head to find Killian standing there, smiling shyly at her. He was wearing jeans and plain black t-shirt, a red hoodie and a leather jacket. His hair had grown a little in the past few weeks and was spiking in all different directions. He was carrying a takeout cup and a paper bag.

"Hello, Swan. I've come to deliver your lunch."

"I didn't know Granny was doing deliveries," she said as she gestured with her hand for him to come closer.

"She's worried that you're not eating properly and it was my day off, so - I volunteered," he said as he placed the bag and the cup on her desk, and reached to scratch behind his ear. "You haven't been around the diner much these days..." he trailed off hesitantly.

"It's been a little hectic around here." She reached for the bag and opened it, the smell of the grilled cheese and the onion rings filling her senses. She moved her hands towards her purse."Let me grab my wallet and I'll -"

He cut her off, his hand on hers, his calloused fingers grazing her knuckles, setting her skin ablaze. "On me," he whispered in a strained voice and she lifted her head, her eyes meeting his and she could see him being affected by their touch in the same way that she was.

The phone on her desk started ringing and they pulled apart, Emma reaching to answer the call.

"Emma Swan." She listened attentively and sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose with her fingers. "I'll be right there." She hung up and looked at Killian. "Well, that's it for lunch break," she said sadly as she took a longing look at the brown bag.

"What was it?" Killian asked.

"Call from the docks. There's been some shady activity there lately, but I can't pinpoint the source. Someone saw movement in a warehouse that is supposed to be vacant. I need to go check it out."

"I'll go with you," Killian offered.

"I can take care of myself," Emma replied, slightly annoyed. "I'm the sheriff."

Killian raised his eyebrows. "I have no doubt that you are capable, Emma. And you are the sheriff; but humor me, love. You know very well it's not wise to venture on such adventures without a back up."

She hesitated, but he tilted his head and gave her a lopsided grin, "Come on, Swan. I'll drive and you can eat. You were drooling over the food less than a minute ago."

Emma scoffed but grabbed the patrol keys from the desk and tossed them in his direction. He caught the keys and smiled broadly at her. "But you'll do as I say," she warned him.

"Wouldn't dream of doing anything else, Swan."

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Looking back, he could kick himself over his stupidity. Their stupidity, but mostly his. He should have known better, bloody hell, he knew better than going the both of them to inspect the warehouse without any type of survey of the surroundings or a clear sense of the possible exit routes. But this was Storybrooke, and he'd been distracted by the way her eyes closed as she enjoyed her meal in the car, and the way her hair flew with the wind. Or the way her green eyes looked at him with appreciation when she thanked him for the food.

So here he was, bested by some local small-time crook as he found himself locked with Emma within the warehouse. She had cursed too, quite colorfully, and he imagined she was feeling the same way he did.

He stood by the door, tilting his head as he contemplated the lock. It shouldn't be too hard…. He turned around, searching for some possible elements on the floor of the warehouse to use. He found some wires that might do the trick.

"What are you doing?" Emma asked, as he got on his knees and examined the lock.

"Trying to help," Killian said as he tried to insert the wire into the lock. He lifted his head for a second and his eyes met hers. She was looking at him with an indecipherable expression. "Well, we have to get out of here, lass."

Emma smirked at him, her hand reaching for the back pocket of her jeans and removing something. "I got it." She smirked at him as her leg softly bumped him to the side. He watched in awe as she picked the lock with a dexterity that seemed unreal for a law enforcement member.

"You're bloody brilliant, Swan," he said in a strained voice.

She smiled softly at him, "Come on, let's get some coffee and take a walk."

They sat on a bench by the docks, both of them looking at the sea as they sipped their coffees. She looked at the open sea before speaking. "I called David."

He sighed sadly. "The town sheriff called my probation officer. This surely won't help me plead that I'm staying on the good side of the law."

"It's not like that," she said softly.

He turned to face her, his blue eyes looking at her questioningly. "And how is it, Swan?"

"He and I are good friends," Emma said before she looked directly at Killian, her green eyes searching his face. "He mentioned you still have family back in England, a brother you could have called but you refused to. You decided to come here instead."

Killian averted his gaze, his eyes focusing on the waves of the ocean. "I haven't spoken to Liam in a decade, Emma. I left England against his advice, chasing what soon became a mistake. After that, I just got stuck in this life and by the time I realized my mistakes, it was too late." His scarred hand fidgeted on the cup he was holding. "I can't just call him out of the blue ten years later and let him see what I've become. I - I'm ashamed," he confessed in a broken whisper.

They sat there silently for a few moments, and Emma felt the sound of the sea luring her into sharing her story with him.

"The reason Henry asked everything he asked the other day," she started hesitantly, "is because he's used to it."

"Too many felons living at Granny's over the years and causing you troubles around town?" Killian asked jokingly.

"No," Emma said in a firm tone and Killian lifted his eyes to meet hers. "Because he was raised under that roof for the first six years of his life."

His eyes widened in surprise but he remained silent, giving her time to decide if she wanted to continue. She took a deep breath, and averted her gaze. "I grew up in the foster system and I made a lot of bad choices when I was young. I fell in love with the wrong person, I trusted the wrong person and I ended up in jail with a 2-year sentence and a pregnancy." Her hand moved to the center of the bench, almost reaching for his, but stopping a few centimeters away, "I got out when Henry was born, partly because of my good behavior and partly because my probation officer, David, pleaded my case relentlessly."

His hand reached out to cover hers and she could feel the warmth of his calloused fingers. "I had no money, no place to live and a baby that was a few weeks old. That is when David called Granny. They had been toying with ideas for a program and he thought I was a good candidate to test if it could work out." She turned around to look at him, a soft smile on her face. "If you got the room with the view of the ocean, you'll see Henry's height marks by the door," she said. "I - we lived there for six years. I started waiting tables while Granny and others helped out with Henry. I finished school, took some local classes on law enforcement and started as a secretary at the station until one day Graham, the previous sheriff, offered me a job as deputy. Henry was three and a half and I still stayed at Granny's for a few more years before I ventured to move out on my own. It was the only home I knew." She tilted her head, smiling fondly at the memories. "A year ago, Graham moved to Boston to become a detective and the mayor offered me the job. That is how former thief and convicted felon Emma Swan became the Sheriff of Storybrooke, Maine."

His hand squeezed hers softly, their fingers almost interlacing. "Why are you telling me all this Swan? Are you looking for a deputy and want to offer me the job?"

She looked at him, her green eyes filled with sincerity. "No. I wanted you to know that I do think people can change." Her eyes focused on their intertwined hands. "I could have stayed feeling sorry for myself and thinking that my past defined my future. But at some point, you get tired of living in the past. And you move on."

Later that night, he sat on the floor of his room, his fingers grazing over the marks on the doorframe, a soft smile coming to his face. He punched the numbers on his phone and silently waited as he heard the ringing on the other side. His heart beat a faster tempo when the call connected.

"Hey, it's me. Killian," he said in a whisper. "Please don't hang up."