storybrooke_savior | Sheriff & Sheriff, Episode 1: Strange Magic

Working nights was probably always going to suck, but working with Al made it a little more bearable. Al, and coffee. Mostly coffee. Sweet, sweet bean juice, heavenly ambrosia, coffee.

Since it was a slow night, Al swung by one of their go-to late night snack stops and parked so that Emma could run in for coffee and bagels (or what passed for bagels anywhere outside of New York, which weren't bagels at all, they were lies). With Al on a health kick and Emma at least attempting to pick up some better eating habits, they'd unanimously decided to avoid the donut cliche, so. Bagels and coffee it was.

Bakery bag and drink trey in hand, Emma hurried out into the chilly night and jogged lightly across the parking lot. Warm days were hanging on but at night the cooler air carried that crisp hint to it that insisted autumn was coming. In her cursed memories October had been one of her favorite months, because of Henry's birthday, because of her memories of celebrating her birthday with Henry, of dressing him up in adorable costumes--none of which had actually happened, saved for the cupcake binge of their last, wonderful year together. The real Emma Swan--the one that'd given her son up for adoption, that'd grown up friendless, unloved, unwanted--hated the entire month. Having two sets of dueling memories meant her feelings now were very...mixed.

Especially being here, and speaking of which...

"Just out of curiosity, were you here last Halloween?" Emma asked as she climbed into the cruiser (she hadn't managed to talk her partner into taking her Beetle out on patrol--yet) and passed Al a large cup of coffee. "I was just thinking, this place doesn't need a special holiday to conjure up something horrific, imagine what it'll do on a day that's centered around being as scary as possible."

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"Last Halloween? Nooooo." Al replied with a shake of his head, saluting her with his cup as she passed him his coffee. "I've only been here since...oh, maybe February?" Christ, had it really been that long already? Seemed like just last week Stiles was ransacking his duffel bag, looking for his envelope...

Shrugging it off with a fond smile, he glanced at Emma before focusing on setting his coffee in the cup holder so he could motion for the bag of bagels. "I've heard stories, though...not about Halloween specifically, but the rest of the damn year. Anyone told you the tale of the ice bees? Or the fire bees we had just a few months ago? I don't remember, were you around for that whole mess? Fire bees, people getting stuck with other people's superpowers...my girlfriend turned into Jack Frost for about a week. Now that was interesting..."

Emma hummed and nodded rather than answer right away, as she'd just taken her first sip of sweet, heavenly coffee. "That was going on when I got here," she replied, passing him the bakery bag. "The powers thing. Some friends of mine got hit by it, and then the fire bees showed up." She shifted her coffee cup to her left hand, used her right to start ticking off all of the crap that'd happened just since her arrival. "And then after that, it was the freaky carnival, and then the Fisher and all the visions of dead people. Basically what I'm saying is, I'll be glad when this month's behind us."

She shot him a teasing smile and took the bakery bag once he'd dug out a suitable bagel. "And how is Nurse McCall doing these days, huh?" she drawled, considering her options and plucking a sesame seed bagel from the bag.

Grabbing a pumpernickel for himself, he handed the bagels back with a raised eyebrow and a twinkle in his eye.

"Fine, you got me beat in the Weird Crap Lottery...and as for Nurse McCall, a gentleman doesn't kiss and tell." he informed her bluntly. "So if I don't kiss her, I'll tell you all about it...but if a day comes when I'm not kissing Melissa McCall, please use your sidearm to put me outta my misery."

Melting into a smile, he paused for a sip of his own coffee. "Suffice to say, we're doing okay. And the boys are doing okay with...us. It's a good thing, a very good thing." He paused to peer at her curiously, reaching for the bag again to see if she'd gotten any cream cheese.

"What about you? Didn't I see you around the station a few days ago with a guy dressed like a pirate?"

"Awww," Emma cooed, nudging the bag back towards him when he shifted to peer inside (because of course she'd gotten cream cheese, what was she, a heathen?). "You guys are so cute."

She smiled a little as he went a little more into detail, knew exactly what he meant being so happy that their boys were good with the direction they were taking. Emma still wasn't sure how Henry would feel about her dating again. For him Neal had died so recently, and even though they hadn't been together, she didn't want to make losing his dad harder on him...

She nearly burned her tongue on coffee when Al brought up the very person her thoughts had just been drifting towards. "I've really gotta get him an updated wardrobe," she muttered, cleared her throat and picked another bite off of her bagel with her fingers. "That would be Killian, he's a friend from home. He's...a little eccentric." That sounded better than He's a fairytale pirate, you may have heard of him, Captain Hook? "I'm not actually sure what we are, yet, it's...complicated."

Al rolled his eyes at being called 'cute,' but let it go as he located a small packet of cream cheese with a triumphant grunt, followed by a plastic knife.

He began fixing his bagel cheerfully, his smile growing when Emma stopped short of inhaling her own coffee. He resisted the urge to laugh, though, and eyeballed her when she tried to explain her boyfriend. Eccentric, complicated...they were buzzwords for him, but usually they were coming out of the mouth of his son or one of his friends.

"Complicated...I can understand that." he mused. "But, uh...just between you, me, and the bagels, just how complicated is the eccentricity...and just how eccentric is the complication? 'Cause I hear those two words used about the same person, and I get that feeling on the back of my neck. You know the one: the same feeling you get when you just know your kid's about to do something really stupid?"

Emma ducked her head and picked up her coffee cup, occupying her hands by opening another tiny container of cream and adding it to the strong, bitter brew. "Henry so rarely does anything stupid," she remarked with a wry smile, using the quip to stall for time. After spending such a long time meaning nothing to no one, having people tell her in whatever way that she meant something to them was...weird. It touched her, but it made her even more uncomfortable keeping secrets.

She just didn't know how to explain to Al that the last guy she'd been in love with had turned out to be a flying monkey, and the guy before that had died in her arms, and oh yeah, so had the guy before that, and by the way her current suitor was a real-deal pirate with a past even messier than hers.

Before she could reply properly, however, their scanner clicked to life, the steady but rushed voice of the dispatcher calling for a car to respond to a location less than three blocks away. Without hesitating, Emma set her coffee down and grabbed the radio to respond. Her dispatch lingo wasn't quite as solid as Al's yet, but she was getting there. "Punch it, sheriff," she said simply after the short conversation with dispatch was done.

"On it, sheriff." Al replied reflexively, but with a smile as he put the cruiser in drive and pulled out onto the street...all with a sidelong look at Emma until she caught his eye and caught his meaning.

She'd been saved by the bell. They both knew it, and he was definitely going to follow up on it later.

Flicking on lights, but no sirens, Al got them to the location in about five minutes...city traffic wasn't terrible on a bad day, and it was late enough that three blocks was easily covered. Once they arrived, Al made sure he was first out, hand on his weapon to unfasten his holster, but he didn't draw his gun.

"I know this sandwich shop." he explained quietly. "Dispatch says possible burglary? I say possible case of Signora Marchelli waving her empty shotgun around at her husband again. Keeps it for protection, this close to Lobos territory...still, just in case I'm wrong and dispatch is right..."

He patted his sidearm again, laying his hand securely over the exposed grip as he led the way towards the half-lit shopfront.

Emma thought it likely that Al was right; most of their calls to date had been public disturbances (drunks, basically, getting too rowdy in a bar and the rowdy spilling into the streets) with a sprinkle of domestics. But as she laid a hand on the holster of her Glock and fell into step beside Al, she couldn't help but feel apprehensive.

"Sheriff, I hate it when people say this in movies, but I've got a bad feeling about this," she murmured in an undertone.

Sheriff & Sheriff, Episode 1: Strange Magic

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