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[notinthebook]

 There's a certain point in the workday where everything just slows down -- as long as there haven't been any emergencies.  It's a very specific, drowsy, four-forty-five in the afternoon sort of feeling, when the sun's started to head westwards and the office feels as dead as a graveyard.

She hasn't worked a nine-to-five in...ever, really, and it isn't hard to tell: she's been fidgeting since four.

Now, she's got a little pile of balled up pieces of paper on her desk, and she's tossing them, one by one, at an empty coffee mug on the floor, under the mugshot measurements.

So far, she's gotten one in.

There are five more scattered around the mug.

Pressing her lips together in concentration, she pauses, moves: the little white ball arcs through the air.

Misses.

(That's number six.)

"Aw, man!"

Comments

[ahuntsman]

"I can't think of better company," Graham says, all sincerity.

It's impossible to explain - to himself or anyone else, try though he might - but spending time with and around Emma has become something Graham looks forward to.

Regina brushed it off as a 'boyhood crush' but it's ... more than that.

He hadn't even paused to take his jacket off or anything before coming in with the coffees, so he finishes locking up and waits for her by the entrance.

[notinthebook]

It surprises a bemused but genuine little smile from her, something instinctive that makes her feel about sixteen years old.

She's not good company, but he is, keeping her on her toes and surprising laughs out of her when she least expects it.

It's nice.

She zips her jacket halfway up against the cool fall weather, and tosses a sidelong grin at him as she heads out through the glass door.

Granny's is probably a better place to go than Milliways right now, anyway. Milliways is...confusing.

Or maybe that's mostly the people there.

"How's it working out for you, having a deputy around? You must've gotten pretty used to just doing your own thing."

[ahuntsman]

"You know, I wasn't sure what it was going to be like, having a deputy," Graham admits, following her out. "Because, you're right, it was just me for the longest time."

He shrugs.

"But it was a good idea. Storybrooke's never seen this much excitement since you arrived and you do a good job. You care about this place and its people, I can tell."

He pauses by the edge of the parking lot.

"And it was another reason for you to stay."

[notinthebook]

She shrugs, thumbs digging into her back pockets as they saunter on out into the late afternoon sun. "Well...for the first time, I've got people who care if I'm around or not. That's something worth sticking around for, you know?"

Mary Margaret and Henry have given her something she never thought would exist for her: a reason to stay. Friendship. Affection, even.

She's been starved of it her whole life, but as soon as she got here, those two have been offering it without any holds barred or worries that she might not be worth it.

[ahuntsman]

Graham nods; he's strangely able to relate a lot more than he thought he would.

"Right.

"I'm glad Henry came looking for you," he says. "You're important to him, and he's clearly very important to you."

Even putting genetics aside.

"Granny's isn't too far from here, and it's kind of a nice day. Do you want to walk?"

[notinthebook]

"A walk sounds good after sitting on my ass most of the day."

She snorts out a breath of laughter, lifting an eyebrow. "I don't think his mother would agree with you, but you know what? I'm glad, too."

There's a pause, for a moment: she'd told Regina this before she knew what an unbelievable bitch the woman was, but Graham might understand what she means by it.

"You want to know something funny? It was my birthday, when I first got here. I'd gotten this stupid little cupcake in Boston and stuck a candle in it, and when I blew it out, I wished I wouldn't have to be alone on my birthday. And Henry showed up right then."

Showed up, dragged her away; she realizes after a second that she's smiling to herself, and shakes it away with a rueful glance at him. "He's a good kid."

[ahuntsman]

Graham doesn't make any show of noticing Emma's smile as she talks about Henry.

It almost feels like a private moment, something he has no real right to sharing. (Though he appreciates her telling him about her birthday.)

"It almost sounds like something from a story.

"Or fate, if you believe in that sort of thing."

[notinthebook]

"You sound like Henry."

The early fall air here is crisp and clean and she takes a deep breath of it, tilting her head back to watch a cloud float lazily across the sky. "I've never really believed in fate." Casting a glance at him, she shrugs.

"What about you? Figure destiny's got us all tied up in some kind of crazy, invisible web?"

[ahuntsman]

"I don't know."

Graham shrugs, returning the glance with one of his own as he answers.

"Sometimes I feel like I'm being strung along a path, like I have no control over what I do.

"But other times ... there's a lot we choose and can choose for ourselves. You know?"

[notinthebook]

"You chose to hire me, right? That was all you."

She kicks at a pebble that's on the sidewalk, sending it scattering onto a lawn.

"To tell you the truth, it is a little weird how Henry found me and things kind of fell into place for me to stay here. Sometimes I don't know what to think."

Most of the time she just lets it go as something good. "I think people should be free to make their own choices. Look at Ashley: you could say she was fated to give up her baby, but she managed to change her life."

[ahuntsman]

"Yes. With a little help," Graham adds, lips quirked into a smile. "But you're right. People should be free to make their own choices."

(Even if they don't always have the opportunity or option to.)

[notinthebook]

"She's the one who made the choice to try. That's the most important part."

It's a choice she's had to make, herself, to try and live a better life, to change herself, if she can't change the world.

"I mean, look at you. What made you want to be Sheriff?"

[ahuntsman]

They're coming up the street to Granny's, which doesn't give Graham a whole lot of time to answer Emma's question.

It's ... strange. He's never thought about it. Never really had to think about how he became Sheriff or why.

Frowning, Graham lets out a breath.

"I don't know," he answers. "It just ... sort of happened."

He's been Sheriff ever since he can remember. The only thing he is aware of is the fact that Regina gave him the job.

[notinthebook]

Her brow wrinkles up as she looks at him. "You just happened to become Sheriff?"

That seems unlikely. Graham's pretty easy-going, but even he would notice just suddenly being given a job out of the blue, wouldn't he?

The little walk that leads up to Granny's is too narrow to walk next to him, so she goes ahead and holds the door open for him as she heads through.

"I would've thought you were the kind of kid who grew up wanting to serve and protect."

[ahuntsman]

Graham shakes his head, looking momentarily ... well, confused.

It's a little like trying to remember a dream in every detail, only the harder you think about it, the further the images fade away.

"No one's ever asked me about it before," he admits. "The jobs we have, it's just ... what we do."

He shrugs.

"But I like my work and I'm good at it. I suppose that's really all that matters."

[notinthebook]

"I guess so."

He seems pretty content to just leave it at that, shrugging, all the uncertainty falling away from his face, leaving him as good-natured and easy-going as ever.

It's weird.

She remembers every single detail that took her from where she'd started out in the system to living on her own and deciding to become a bail bondsperson: each decision and mistake is burned into her brain.

There was never a time when it was just something she did.

"May as well play to your strengths," she agrees, though she looks at him closely for a moment. "Not a lot of people can say they've got the same kind of job satisfaction."

[ahuntsman]

"'Suppose I'm just lucky, then."

Graham smiles a little before gesturing for her to choose any of the seats in Granny's.

Maybe it should bother him that he can't remember ... anything, really, about how he got to the place he's in now. But it's hard to hold onto that, and it's much easier to let things be.

People passing them by smile and nod, some offering greetings, which Graham returns with equal politeness.

"Did you ever think you'd end up being a sheriff's deputy?"

[notinthebook]

"You and Storybrooke."

Whatever else might be true, Graham's good at what he does; she wouldn't have taken the job if he weren't.

She laughs as they head towards one of the booths, and she's still grinning at him as they sit down.

"You're kidding, right? That was never even on my radar. I'm used to working on my own and doing things my way. I'm not exactly the first person people think of when they want teamwork. I never really thought I'd have a steady job, just kinda...keep going wherever there was something to do."

[ahuntsman]

"Doing things your own way, imagine that," Graham teases, shrugging out of his jacket and loosening his tie a bit.

It's after work, after all. There's no need to be too formal.

"What'll you have? It's on me."

[notinthebook]

Her own jacket gets slipped off her shoulders and tossed at the end of the booth, and she gives him a crinkly-eyed smile. "You are not as funny as you think you are," she points out, before considering his other question.

"A beer'll work. As long as it doesn't screw with any employer-employee regulations."

What? If he gets to tease, so does she.

[ahuntsman]

"At this point, the regulations are really more like 'guidelines'," Graham says, amused.

Especially considering the move he made in hiring Emma, despite Regina's very clear opinion of the woman. Graham more or less tossed the rulebook out the window at that point.

"Anyway, we're both off-duty. This is more like having a drink with a friend."

[notinthebook]

"I guess you're the one who'd enforce them, anyway."

And really, how many rules can a two-person Sheriff's office need?

Ruby comes over to take their order, which is good, because it means she doesn't have to answer his other comment right away. Not that it's difficult, not that it should, by any stretch of the imagination, be a weird thing to say, but...

Well, between the mine and Miami and Mary Margaret's casual little questions regarding the guy sitting across from her, it's not unreasonable for her to cling to the simplicity of that statement, right? After all, they are friends.

The fact that she gets an irrepressible little smile every time she makes him laugh is completely beside the point. "See, that is something the lone wolf lifestyle doesn't exactly provide. I have to say, it's a definite plus."

[ahuntsman]

"One of many pluses, I've found."

Graham shrugs.

"Maybe it's just the small-town-ness of Storybrooke, and the fact that it's really quite hard to walk down the street without recognizing at least one or two people - but there aren't terribly many lone wolves here."

Or wolves at all, but that's another story.

"Think you could get used to that?"

[notinthebook]

"Yeah, I'm getting that."

She can't go anywhere without people stopping her to say hi, or waving from across the street: people know who she is and where she lives and that Henry's her son (technically) and that she'd moved from Boston to be around him, and it's weird but also kind of nice?

Their drinks arrive, along with a smile from Ruby, and she tilts the bottle a little, tipping it in a thoughtful circle around the flat cardboard coaster.

"I think I'm warming up to it," she says, eyes on him.

The truth is, Graham's been almost as instrumental as Mary Margaret in getting her to stay. He'd offered her a job, he'd kept extending a friendly hand, and now they're hanging out just like it really is two friends out for a beer.

She just ignores that little fluttering sensation tucked below her ribcage, the one that appears when she looks up and sees him smiling.

"Not that I see you out and around the town all that much. Not with anyone else, at least."

[ahuntsman]

Graham shrugs, a small coiled feeling of guilt tightening somewhere in his stomach in response to Emma's last comment.

He attempts to ignore it and takes a sip of his beer to recompose himself.

He knows it was nothing more than a passing statement, but lately the company he keeps has been ... making him question a few things.

One of which involves the woman sitting across from him.

"I've been accused of being a little ... overly involved in my work," he starts, eyes focused on the rim of his beer bottle.

"Once or twice, anyway.

"But it's possible another reason is that I just haven't found the right people to be 'out and around with'."

[notinthebook]

"Well," she says, feeling pleased without precisely knowing why, "I'm glad I came along and gave you an excuse to do something other than work."

For all he teases her about being a loner, it sure doesn't seem like he's exactly in a position to throw stones, but hell, she knows what it feels like to not have people to go out and do things with.

That's pretty much the story of her life.

But now...well, maybe they can hang out. Maybe something like this, a drink after work, could start being a norm. Maybe this is something they can both have, that wasn't there before.

Maybe.

(If Michael's the wrong person to spend time with, does that make Graham more of a right one? Is it even that black and white?)

"I could get used to it."

[ahuntsman]

"Good," Graham says, smile widening. And, as though reading her thoughts, he adds, "Because I'd like to think this won't be the only time we share a drink after work."

He tips his bottle towards her.

(It's not as though he can't spend time with Emma if he wants to.

[Because he wants to.]

Regina doesn't own him.)

[notinthebook]

It's weird, how your body betrays you even when you think there's nothing there to betray, but there it is: a tightening in her stomach, faint, but there, just like her smile comes involuntary in a brief flash.

It's meaningless, really. A drink with a coworker, the simplest thing in the world.

Except that Graham is, in his own way, as confusing as Michael, as confusing as Henry, as confusing as Milliways. Sometimes he seems detached -- friendly, but distanced -- and then sometimes he smiles at her like he's doing now and there's absolutely jack shit she can do to stop herself from smiling back.

Tipping her own bottle, she clinks it lightly against his.


"I'd like that, too."