#aloneswan

‘Call me.’ 

The voicemail shouldn’t have bothered him. It was from Emma. When had she ever bothered to call him even before the curse began? Especially with an invitation to call her back with no explanation of why he should.

But he had asked for her help with this fake adoption mess and she had agreed to help. Perhaps it had something to do with that. Otherwise, he couldn’t imagine what she could possibly have to say to him. They weren’t exactly on friendly terms.

And with Grace declaring he stay away from her - even if she showed up during his shift and had been assigned to shadow him - he couldn’t begin to expect Grace would want him to continue down the custody path. Not that he would give up. She’s his kid no matter what a curse dictates or whether she hates him or not.

So the words ‘Call me’ continued to bother Jefferson after he dismissed Grace from her internship. He remained at the hospital, however. He was technically still on shift even if Grace’s shenanigans in the basement might end up getting him terminated. Finding a place to remain out of sight of any administrators, Jefferson hit the Call button on the phone, deciding not to wait for Emma to respond to his reply text.

Zelena’s quest for discovery within the town brought her, logically, to the only place, and the only person left, thatcould offer any sort of insight into what was happening in this cursed town. The Saviour. 

If anyone was familiar with breaking curses, it was Emma Swan. She’d accomplished many, even aiding in the one that Zelena dipped her toe into many years ago. But now that was in the past, and though Zelena’s relationship with Emma swan was rocky, at least it was awful. That is, if The Saviour even remembered who Zelena was. 

Zelena went into the sheriff's office, the one place she figured she could at least get a clue as to where Emma was. And even if Emma wasn’t the sheriff after all, it was worth knowing who was calling the shots around town. 

When she first walked into the office, she walked slowly and began speaking softly. “Hello...? Em--...um...sheriff? Is there anybody here...?

@aloneswan

@pickyourpoisonflorist

As per Sheriff Swan instructions (which to her mind was a glorified way of stating the obvious) Mallory moved swiftly back to her french doors and locked them, spying out the window that he was still cleaning up his mess. She allowed herself a private smirk and quickly moved up the stairs. With the Sheriff soon to arrive she didn’t care to be caught in her sleepwear, she'd used it on Killian to unnerve him, it would be wasted on Ms Swan, unless she wished to see how a sophisticated woman dressed for bed.

@aloneswan

For all of the places Thomas drags him to, Aesop’s probably the one he has the least problems with. Sure, in most ways the bar’s not any different from anywhere else his foster dad has friends; it’s still loud, reeks of spilled old booze, and Henry always manages to stick his shoe in something he’d rather not think about. 

But there’s single table in a darkened corner back behind the pool table that’s easy for him to hide himself away in until Thomas is done, and the Vikings’, a local pool team, practices are kind of funny, he guesses, though he still thinks they take the team name a little too far when they show up already half to Valhalla. Plus, Aesop’s serves food — which means that, more than Henry getting a chance at a half-decent burger, he also’s got a better chance of blending in with the rest of the crowd. Maybe eighteen’s still a far way off from fourteen, but the distance to twenty-one is harder to fake and, so long as he keeps to his corner, he doesn’t risk the chance of getting kicked out.

And one of Thomas’ friends is a bartender here with some pull, anyway, so if all else fails Henry guesses there’s that.

His foster dad’s hanging out with that exact friend at the moment, and Henry glances up at a particularly loud guffaw, eyes narrowed more from the confused, frustrated squint he’d been giving his homework than any real annoyance with Thomas and his version of a Casual-Friday-on-a-Tuesday. Thomas might be...a lot of things, but he’s also harmless — even when he does have half his neck down a bottle. Confirming that the loudness is just the result of Thomas’ friend’s joke, and not the sheer level of drunk that’ll end with Henry having to figure out how to get the man back to their place without catching all the wrong kinds of attention, Henry turns his sour glare back to the notebook in front of him. The numbers and letters of his algebra homework keep switching around the longer he stares at them, and it’s not like he can tell them to cut it out; how’s he supposed to get any of this done if it doesn’t just work with him? 

@aloneswan

Money. It was all that Mallory’s life revolved around, collecting it, spending it, investing it and deciding who to lend it out too. There were also deliveries of fresh notes and coinage to the bank on a regular basis which demanded her attention. The forms and other paperwork behind organising the damn delivery were demanding enough, but the pomp of the delivery itself did little to keep her temper in check. 

Of course there was also the need for extra security on the off chance any illegal actions were attempted. The thought alone was enough to cause her to sigh, honestly it was Storybrooke. People didn’t rob banks here. People didn’t seem to really do anything here, aside from herself and possible Regina. Either way the need was there and Mallory wasn’t going to leave things to chance.

So she organised with the sheriff’s office and demanded that woman be in attendance for the delivery; if she had to suffer through it with a few employee’s then that woman could too. She was standing, sentinel-like by the banks back door waiting for the other to arrive, only uncrossing her arms and walking down to meet the Sheriff as she did.

“Sheriff Swan, how lovely of you to grace us with your presence.” she smiled, managing to be both polite and sarcastic at the same time.

@aloneswan

Mallory moved further into her house and grabbed her rarely used landline phone. She dialled in a number and waited until a rather drowsy voice asked her what the emergency was. “This is Mallory Drake, connect me to the Sheriff, now.” she said, less of a request, more of an order, and the person on the other end of the line jerked slightly and almost dropped the phone, ‘O-Oh course Ma’am, please hold.’

While the phone started ringing once more she leaned against the wall, see how Mr. Jones liked this. He had no idea who he was messing with. When she heard it connect once more Mallory spoke.

Granny’s is near empty as Brie sets up the table by the front window. Sunlight is filtering through the large window and she cannot keep the large smile off her face as she sets out her legal pad and little sign announcing The Recover Fiona Organization. The name needed work, that she would wholly admit as she settled in the silver and red chair. It had since she’d typed up the flyers inviting anyone interested in attending the planning sessions to come to Granny’s this morning. So far, no one is there, but she knows that people will come. Or at least she hopes so. She’s fiddling with her pen when the door opens, a burst of cold air announcing the arrival of someone. “Hi!,” she says brightly, the smile on her face growing as she looks up, “I’m so glad you could make it!”

Occurring after Awake Again 2

As the truck pulled out of the parallel parking spot in front of Pick Your Poison Florist, David could not help keeping his eye on the building in the rear view mirror for a moment. There was so much more they could have said to Killian. They could have tried waking him from the curse just like they hoped to do for Emma. 

But, they really had needed someone to watch Neal. Someone they trusted. And if David knew Killian, if they had been successful in waking him, he might want to go along in their attempt to wake Emma. Most certainly.

David’s eyes moved from the rear view mirror back to the road as the truck carried them past several shops and past others they knew carrying out their jobs as if in a daze. These were all their people and they would find a way to free them.

“Like I told you earlier, I met Emma a few days ago. She’s still the Sheriff. I’d imagine she’d be at the station at this time of day.” That was where he was headed now. Not her home. And if she wasn’t at the station, they’d keep looking until they found her.

He glanced over to Snow to see how she was taking this separation from Neal so far and the impending meet with Emma who wouldn’t know them. Or at least not past the brief meeting in the street with the run away dog and the strange picture that neither had recognized. He cracked a smile. “She had that picture of us in hand. It was that one from the cork board, the one of us wearing badges leaning against the deputy car.”

His laugh felt good to let out. Sort of a stress-reliever. “Neither of us recognized it, but we figured it had slipped our minds. But it seemed to have gone well, so I don’t think us showing up at the station now would be too surprising.”