Preface: I saw the fic by StrykrWolf of the same premise and wanted to try my hand with this AU using one of my favorite movies.

AU: Loosely based on the 2013 movie The Heat (An uptight FBI Special Agent is paired with a foul-mouthed Boston cop to take down a ruthless drug lord.)

Characters:

Regina - Special Agent Sarah Ashburn

Emma - Detective Shannon Mullins

Maleficent - Hale

Graham - Levy

David - Captain Frank Woods

Hook - Julian

Gold - Adam

August - Jason Mullins

Granny - Mrs. Mullins

Ruby, Lily, Kristoff - Misc. Mullins siblings

Neal - Rojas

Belle - Tatiana

Robin - LeSoire

CHAPTER ONE

Regina couldn't wait to get in the office. The night before she had received a company-wide email about a promotion opening up in her division and she wanted it. She got in early and made a bee line for her boss's door, knocking once before entering as she heard Maleficent wrapping up a phone call.

Maleficent looked up from her desk at the knock knowing exactly why Regina was in her office but in no way going to make it easy for her.

"What do you want?"

"Just letting you know that I have been observing the agents. Overseeing what they've been up to," her hand moved in a circular motion while she danced vaguely around the subject, "you know... Keeping an eye on them."

"Oh, yeah?" Maleficent asked aloofly. "Supervising?"

"Supervising," Regina laughed. "Exactly. Yes ma'am."

"Look, Mills. I haven't made any decisions yet and honestly I don't know if you're the right person for this position."

"I'm sorry, what? I'm confused. I've closed more cases than any agent here. Should I not have done that?"

Maleficent sighed.

"You are a solid agent, but there are many other solid agents."

Regina scowled.

"None of them closed the Fairy Tale Killer case."

"Regina, it's no secret that none of the other agents like you. I've gotten countless complaints of arrogance and competitiveness, showmanship... Just give it a rest and take a seat as long as I have you here." She picked up a file and handed it to Regina who sank into a chair with a pout. "Chatter was picked up on a guy moving in, goes by the name Rumpelstiltskin. We don't know what he looks like, where he comes from, nothing. We believe this guy," she says, pointing at a picture in the folder, "is doing the legwork for him. Killian Jones, goes by Hook. Nasty son of a bitch. Torture, murder, extortion. This is his M.O.," she thumbs through several pages before stopping at some graphic crime scene photos. "Hangs his victims from hooks then flays them alive for information before chopping them up and scattering the pieces to the winds."

"Hooks," Regina grimaces, looking at the pictures. "I see where he got the name."

"Yeah, well as you can assume the problem with guys like that is everyone's too scared to talk. Pack your bags. I'm sending you to Boston. You know how to get inside people's heads. You want to find Rumple, get to Hook. If you do well with this, we can talk about the promotion."

xxxxx

Emma was technically on her lunch break but it had been a month since she last made contact with this regular collar and she was in the neighborhood. Driving around the corner she could see him sitting on the stoop outside his house and as she pulled to the curb in front of it she rolled down the driver window of her yellow Volkswagen Beetle and yelled out to him.

"Hey, it's Neal! My favorite asshole."

"What are you doing here, Emma? Do you secretely want me back?"

His eyebrows wiggled flirtatiously and Emma scoffed.

"We dated for about a month. In high school. Over a decade ago," Emma snarked with a roll of her eyes.

"Well then, why don't you go down the road," he motioned away from his house with the cigarette in his hand, "and take a little vacation, okay? Go get your groove back, Em. It's time to move on."

He was smiling at her in a dopey way and Emma's lips started to turn up at the ends in a smile as well when she realized it wasn't a cigarette he was holding.

Got him.

"What is that?" she snapped, pointing at the joint between his fingers.

He hesitated for a moment, realized he was caught, then dropped it and ran.

"That's what I thought!" she yelled at his retreating figure. "I got that motherfucker now."

She slammed her car into reverse and peeled away from his curb, slipping quickly into a higher gear and speeding down the nearby alley, cutting off Neal's escape route and hitting him with the hood and front bumper of her car.

"I got him! I got him!" she yelled to no one in particular, excited to have stunned and hopefully slowed Neal down.

Coming to a quick stop and pulling up the emergency break, Emma pushed the door to her car open and bolted after him. His legs might be longer and he might be stronger but she had stunned him with the tag from her car and she was gaining on him quickly. As he leapt up and tried to pull himself over a chain link fence Emma caught the leg he hadn't swung over yet and yanked him down hard.

"You piece of shit," she screamed at him, still pulling on his leg. "I said stop!"

"Get off me, Emma!"

"Son of a bitch, stop moving!"

"Leave me alone! Get off me!"

"Get down!"

"You're crushing my balls!"

"Good, I hope they fucking rupture!"

He kicked and flailed but she managed to tear him down to the ground before taking a hard, heavy knee to his back. He groaned, the fight worn out of him, no longer flailing around while she pulled his arms behind his back and cuffed him.

"Oh, look at this!" she yelled during the pat down, pulling a bag of marijuana and another, smaller bag of cocaine out of his pocket. "It's not even my birthday, Neal. That's great."

"You planted that shit on me! I'm innocent!"

"Shut up before I kick you for denting my hood."

xxxxx

Regina arrived at the Boston field office intent on getting the necessary documents and leaving as quickly as possible. She roamed the floor looking for her point of contact, Junior Agent Graham Humbert. Noticing his cubicle she knocked on the partition wall and he stood quickly, offering his hand for her to shake.

"Special Agent Regina Mills?"

"Yes, I'm from the New York field office. I need all your files on all known drug dealers of the area."

Straight to business.

Graham smiled, "Right. We heard you were coming."

Handing her a large box full of folders and important documents he offered to show her to her temporary desk.

"That won't be necessary, I'm not staying long."

"Fair enough," Graham chuckled at her over and out tone. "Well, this just came in," he said, adding a new folder to the top of the box. "Low-end dealer just got brought into the East Boston precinct. Name's Neal Cassidy."

"Okay, good. Thank you."

xxxxx

Emma had taken Neal into the station and left him in holding before going out to grab a quick cup of coffee and a bear claw as a half-assed attempt at finishing her lunch. Pulling up to the station she saw her usual spot wide open. Pulling ahead of it in order to parallel park and back into the space, she was immediately cut off by a Mercedes that swung wide and pulled neatly into her spot. Her spot was stolen right out from under her.

"Hey!" She screamed at the brunette walking away from it. "Get back in your car! Hey, asshole! God damn it!"

The brunette in question walked authoritatively into the police department past the sign in desk.

"Hey," the dispatcher posted at the desk flagged her down. "You need to sign in."

"FBI," Regina said, disregarding his need for her to sign anything and flashing her credentials. "I'm looking for Captain Nolan."

The dispatcher pointed her towards a man with a wrinkled button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up and a tie loosened around his collar. Between his disheveled appearance and his hair which had probably been neatly combed and parted to the side at some point early that morning, the dark bags under his eyes, the spit up on his shoulder, and the generous amount of coffee he was currently pouring into a large mug Regina could tell the captain was a tired and stressed new parent.

Pitying him but having a job to do Regina marched up to him, tapping his shoulder.

"Captain Nolan?"

"Yes," he looked at her puzzled, "how can I help you?"

"Special Agent Regina Mills," she introduced herself, offering her hand to shake. "We got intel recently that you brought in a dealer by the name of Neal Cassidy."

"Yeah," David sighed, "but Detective Swan isn't back from lunch yet."

"I'm sure he won't mind," Regina tried to assure him.

David just shook his head.

"Swan is a she, and we're not allowed to go near her collars."

"Let me tell you what I think," Regina tried to reason with him, "every second we're standing here is interfering with the federal investigation. So, if you would be so kind as to show Mr. Cassidy to an interrogation room. Thank you."

xxxxx

Neal sat across from Regina at the table in the interrogation room.

"You are looking at possession with intent, which is a Class-D drug charge, Chapter 94C, Section 32A."

"I had a joint, some weed, and a little bit of coke. Since when is that shit illegal?"

"The answer to your question is always, and with your priors you are looking at 25 years and some pretty stiff fines."

"Who the hell cares about fines? That's 25 years!"

"Right, so let's see what you make of these," she said, dropping some of the crime scene photos on the table in front of him. "What I make of them... is that somebody doesn't want somebody else selling on their turf. But you're still here... and, you're alive. Why is that?" She sat back in her chair studying him, "Who are you working for?"

"Nobody," he lied, immediately clamming up.

She raised an eyebrow, unimpressed and unbelieving.

"Who are you working for?"

"Nobody!" he cried out. Realizing she wouldn't drop the question he pointed to the pictures and added, "If I tell you, that's my ass chopped up into a million motherfucking pieces."

Regina allowed her features to soften and a soft sigh to escape her lips.

"I don't want you to do time and I don't want you to get chopped up into tiny, little mother-effing pieces. I can protect you. I can. But you've got to help me."

"I can help you."

"You'll help me?"

He nodded, "Yeah."

"Where can I find Killian Jones?"

"I get my shit from one of Hook's hookers, a chick named Belle French, I don't deal with him direct."

Regina pulled out her notepad and pen, "Can you describe her?"

"Brown hair..."

"Okay." Looking up and realizing that was the extent of his description she waved her hand in the air impatiently, "Can you maybe be a little bit more specific? I have brown hair."

"French accent but I don't think her real name's French."

"Great," Regina rolled her eyes. "That was very helpful. Thank you."

xxxxx

Emma was beyond pissed. Because that bitch in the Mercedes had stolen her parking spot she'd had to cruise back and forth, up and down the aisles in the parking lot looking for an opening. Finally finding a tight spot between two cruisers Emma parked her car but when she tried to open her door it hit the passenger door of the patrol unit to her left. Shoving the door open and closed had only managed to ding her car and the patrol unit. Screaming in frustration and shaking her steering wheel Emma realized she would have to look for another spot or say 'fuck it' and make the best of this shitty space. Rolling down her window she climbed out and slammed her car door a few more times for good measure.

Storming into the station the main entrance doors slammed too when she flung them open and yelled at the officers in her path who were doing nothing other than laughing and joking with each other, enjoying their day.

"Oh! Ha-ha! Oh, yeah! We're at a comedy party! Move the fuck out of my way," she pushed past them towards holding. "Get a room. Jesus. And don't think I forgot you owe me $40 you fucker," she pointed at one of the patrol officers, "and tomorrow it's $60. Fucking dickweed." Rounding the corner she noticed a janitor was mopping the empty holding cell. Turning her attention and rage on the short officer assigned to guard prisoners in holding she barked out at him, "Leroy, why the shit is the cage empty? What did I tell you about moving my prisoners?"

"Sorry sister," he said, sounding genuinely sorry. "He's in interrogation."

Emma closed her eyes and took a deep, calming breath feeling her blood boiling.

"And why would he be in interrogation when I'm standing right here?"

"Th-they..." he stuttered, "They came and got him."

Emma leaned over his desk menacingly, "'They' who? It better be two of me. Is it two of me?"

"It was a lady," he said with a shrug like that was explanation itself.

"I'm a lady!" She scowled at him when he scoffed. "Was it me? Was I the lady? Did I come and get him?"

"No, it was a different lady. She was nice."

"I'm fucking nice! Why was she nice to you?"

"She made me give her the keys."

"I'm gonna make you fucking bend over and I'm gonna reach up your ass into your pocket and get the keys to your house..." she mimed how she would reach up and grab the keys, "then I'm gonna drive there, come in your front fucking door, and kill you in your sleep. I'm gonna stab you to death with your own fucking badge, how does that sound?"

xxxxx

"Okay," Regina said, gathering up the papers from the table and ending the interview. "I think I have a clear idea of what we're looking for, and I appreciate your time."

The interrogation room door was yanked open causing Neal to flinch and Regina to glance up with a quirk of her eyebrow as Emma came barging in.

"Wow, lady," she chuckled mirthlessly. "You're on a real fucking roll."

"Excuse me?"

"No, I won't excuse you. I just spent the last 30 minutes thinking of ways to kill you."

"I'm sorry," Regina pushed her chair back and stood up, "when did we meet?"

Emma ignored her and turned to Neal, "Is this your lawyer?" Her attention shifted back to Regina after a second though. "Are you an insurance salesman? Do you sell those shitty suits?"

Regina chose to ignore the wildly inaccurate fighting words and move forward as an adult.

"I'm Special Agent Regina Mills. How can I help you?"

"You can get all of that," Emma motioned to Regina's entire body in a wide sweeping hand gesture, "and get it the fuck out of here. This is my room."

Regina glanced behind Emma thinking this wild-haired woman in skin tight jeans and a hideous red leather jacket was another suspect waiting to be interrogated.

"Were you about to be questioned by a detective?"

"I am a detective," Emma scoffed, pushing her jacket back to reveal the badge worn on her hip before pointing at Neal, "and that's my perp."

"Ah," Regina nodded her head in understanding. "Well, Detective, Mr. Cassidy will be continuing on with me..."

"No," Emma interrupted immediately, crossing her arms.

"...it's a jurisdictional issue..."

"Not gonna happen."

"...your efforts are duly noted..."

"Oh, great."

"...so could you just," Regina waved her hand dismissively, "close the door on your way out, dear?"

Emma's jaw clenched and she glared at Regina defiantly.

"I'll shut the door on you," she snarked back. "Will you lay down here and put your head in the door?" She pointed to the doorway, "I'll slam it about 157,000 times."

"Trust me, agent," Neal said, hoping to diffuse the situation, "you better go."

"Shut your mouth!" Emma snapped. Turning back to Regina she pointed over her shoulder with her thumb, "Get up and we'll settle this outside."

Regina almost laughed.

"I won't be going outside."

"You're gonna get up," Emma started walking backwards herself, heading out the open door, "and come outside."

This time Regina did chuckle.

"No, dear. I don't think I am."

"Fine," Emma closed the door instead, "we'll just do this inside then."

Regina looked over Neal's shoulder, not really sure if anyone was watching on the other side of the glass in the observation room, but raising her voice anyway, "Can somebody remove this person from the interrogation room, please?" Looking back to Emma then with a condescending glance she added, "Mental illness is nothing to be ashamed of. It runs in many families."

Emma slipped her jacket off and dropped it to the floor.

"I'm gonna hit you."

Regina rolled her eyes, "You're not."

"I am," she started walking closer. "I'm gonna hit you, and knock all your little buttons off," she said with a poke to Regina's chest.

Regina pushed her back and Emma launched at her. The fight was barely that and was broken up before it could escalate to anything serious by Captain Nolan bursting through the door and separating them.

"Enough! Both of you," he pointed between them, his voice booming, "my office! Now!"

xxxxx

Emma sifted through some papers on his desk, knocked a couple books off his bookcase, shook his coat on the coat rack.

"Nope. Not in there."

Regina had sat back and silently observed Emma wander around her captain's office rummaging through his belongings searching for something and coming up empty handed for a few minutes before curiosity got the better of her.

"What is she looking for?"

David sighed, "My balls."

Emma continued batting around his things.

"It was bad enough you married that softy defense attorney Mary Margaret, but did you really need to knock her up too? This never would have happened a year ago."

David took a wet paper towel to the spit up stain on his shoulder.

"The FBI has jurisdiction, Swan. There's nothing I can do."

She picked up his travel mug and shook it, "Maybe they're in here." Putting her ear close to listen she shook again, "Nope. Not there." She opened the door to the bull pen then addressing the officers milling around, "Hey, if anyone sees the Captain's balls, let me know. They're about this big," she yelled, holding up her thumb and index finger pressed together in a non-existent gap, "but a lot tinier. Like a pea, or like a ball bearing. Or if you've ever seen a mouse ball... About half that size. Incredibly tiny," she added before she slammed the door shut.

"Knock it off, Emma."

She huffed and slumped into the chair next to Regina, her feet sprawling out and kicking Regina's bag that had been propped up on the leg of her chair.

"Well that's professional," Regina sighed.

Emma held her hand up to her chest and gasped.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Was that not professional? Here, let me be professional." She picked the bag up and shook it upside down, spilling all the contents on the floor. "Is that better?"

Regina rolled her eyes, "very mature."

"Wait, hold on." Emma stooped down then, knocking around Regina's things this time. "Let me just straighten this shit up. Oh, hey!" She stood up then, holding a small plastic container with a few Tic-Tacs rolling around in it. "Good news, guys!" She walked back to the door and yanked it open, yelling out at the pen again, "Good news, I found his balls!" She shook the container around making the mints knock around loudly and slammed the door shut again. "Perfect. In a clear sack," she threw them at his head, the container bouncing off, "enjoy that. Shove those back up there for Mary Margaret. Cop of the year!"

"Keep it up!" he yelled and that finally seemed to get her attention and she flipped him off before storming out of the office altogether.

He sat back in his chair and sighed.

"So, anyway, sir..." Regina tried to just push through the awkwardness, "if you could just, you know, keep her away from me," she bent down and started to put her things back in her bag, "that would be... very helpful." Stilling her hands she noticed something very important was missing and she frowned.

"She stole your keys, didn't she?"

"Yes, she did." Regina could feel her own murderous rage working its way to the surface now. "Do you know where I can find her?"

"She's probably at Lucas's. It's a hotel down the street, little diner and dive bar out back."

xxxxx

Emma quickly knocked back her first beer, knowing the special agent would find her soon, and waved to Ruby for a second glass. By the time Ruby replaced her glass with the new drink Regina came bursting in the door, removing her sunglasses and squinting in the dim light looking for Emma.

The blonde swiveled on her chair and smiled at Regina with a shit-eating-grin that might have come from the lifted mood the beer she'd already downed had left her in. It might have come from how tickled it made her to rile up the special agent. It might have come from knowing she had managed to get under the skin of an FBI agent. Or it simply might have been the way the other woman's face looked so god damned attractive when she was angry.

Spinning Regina's keys around her index finger she called out to her, "Drop something?"

After ripping them out of her hand, Regina started lecturing her.

"You are so concerned about taking down a guy like Cassidy, wasting all this time when I could have stopped a drug lord who is far more dangerous and supplies to people like Cassidy."

The smile fell off her face, "Bullshit. Who?"

"You want to see some bull feces?" Regina asked, rummaging around in the bag that had been organized prior to Emma's previous act of immaturity.

"I think I said 'bullshit'."

"Here's some bull poo-poo," Regina announced, pulling out the same crime scene photos she had shown Neal and handing them to Emma. "How does that look?"

Emma frowned, noticing some notes in the margins.

"Why do I not know who Rumpelstiltskin is?"

"That would probably be because the FBI knows more than you do."

Regina thought that was a perfectly reasonable explanation but Emma looked beyond offended.

"Anything happening in my neighborhood I have a right to know."

"No," Regina shook her head condescendingly, "you actually don't. You want to know, dear. And you do not have the clearance that would allow you to read everything that is in this file," she said with a tap to the folder sticking out of her bag.

Emma softened, handing Regina back the photos and watching her tuck them back into the folder before setting it on the surface of the bar.

"Yeah," she nodded glumly. "You're right. It's just that, when bad things happen in my neighborhood... I get a little passionate about it. I grew up here, ya know? I was a foster kid so I got bounced around from home to home until Ruby," she nodded to the woman at the other end of the bar who was pouring another patron a beer, "her grandmother took me and a couple other kids in. Gave us some place to go. It was home. But, you're right. I shouldn't have read your files. I went too far. I'm sorry."

Regina eyed her skeptically.

That was easy.

"Well, I accept your apology." She was still skeptical but she had bigger fish to fry and needed to get out of this dump and away from this idiot detective so she wasn't willing to push it. "You need to understand that this is a highly important case and the information is highly, highly sensitive. That's why we have these clearances."

Emma took a sip of her beer, nodding along.

"Right. I don't have the clearances," she said with a 'what can you do' shrug. "I mean you're a... You are, wow, FBI. You are a goddamn angel of the law..."

Regina shook her head, "Well, that's a little..."

"...I want you to spread those wings and just soar!"

Ruby finally noticed the odd conversation and the stranger Emma was talking to and tapped the bar in front of Regina.

"Can I get you anything, hon?"

With Regina momentarily distracted by Ruby Emma siezed the opportunity and swiped the folder that had been left on the bar, stuffing it into the waist band of her jeans under her leather coat behind her back.

Turning back to Emma, Regina took her relaxed beer sipping as a good sign.

"So, are we good?"

Emma smiled at her charmingly, "Absolutely."

"Okay," Regina stepped off the bar stool and brushed off her slacks, not thinking to be suspicious of Emma anymore, her bright smile and eyes blinding her and those adorable dimples distracting her. "Well, thank you."

"Thank you," Emma offered back with a wink. "America thanks you."

"And I it," Regina replied back awkwardly, starting to walk backwards out of the bar.

"And it you. Good work out there."

"Thank you," Regina said again, stumbling over a bar stool.

"Whoa," Emma chuckled and this time it came with a genuine smile. "Careful there, special agent."

Regina waved nervously at the blonde before exiting the bar, so embarassed at herself she hit her own forehead with the palm of her hand, muttering "idiot."

Emma rolled her eyes watching the door close behind the brunette, a little smirk still on her face as she swiveled on the barstool, lifting her butt an inch off the seat and reaching behind her jacket to pull the folder out and start looking through those "highly sensitive" files.

xxxxx

After looking through the paperwork Emma immediately drove out to the prison to visit her oldest sibling from the foster home, August Booth. Granny had raised all of them; Ruby, August, Emma, Lily, and Kristoff. As the oldest, August spent the most time in the system before Granny took him in, so he was arguably the most screwed up. Being the most screwed up also meant he was the one in trouble the most, which one day led to Emma having to arrest him in a narcotics bust which he was now nearing the end of his time for.

They sat across from each other at a table in visitation for a few silent, awkward moments before Emma spoke up.

"So," she drawled out. "How you been, Auggie?"

"Cut the shit, Em," he laughed.

"You want to talk about Rumplestiltskin?"

"Nope. Never heard of him."

"Don't lie to me," she demanded in a firm whisper. "You're my brother, I know when you're lying."

He shrugged, trying to convince her.

"I'm just a low-level guy. I've heard of him, but never met the guy."

Slapping her open palm down on the surface of the table in front of him, Emma made August jump.

"He's a goddamn animal and I'm trying to keep him from meeting you," she said, her eyes boring into him with a silent plea for the truth.

He chuckled, "You gonna storm through Boston and take down a drug lord?"

Emma shrugged, "Yeah, I might. Have you met me?"

"Yeah, unfortunately," he said with a laugh. He studied her for a moment, smiling at her affectionately. "I get out tomorrow, you know. I'm coming home. I'm gonna be fine." Taking her hand in his as comfortably as he could with the shackles still in place he tried to reassure her, "I promise, all right?"

xxxxx

As Regina neared the apartment building listed as Belle French's address she was not surprised to see Emma's yellow Volkswagen already parked out front. Getting out of her Mercedes she approached Emma's window and knocked on the glass which was already partially rolled down. Emma startled at the sound, aiming her gun on whoever dared to disturb her from cleaning it.

"Never approach me if I'm not expecting you!" she yelled at the brunette who had jumped out of the line of fire.

Standing back to her full height and brushing imaginary debris off her slacks in a show of nerves Regina snarked back at Emma, "What are you, an animal?" Sighing, she noticed the file on Emma's passenger seat and pointed at it, "You said you would stay off my case and now I find you outside of Miss French's apartment."

"I live here."

"Oh, that's hilarious. You know what's not funny? That you stole a confidential FBI case file."

Emma shrugged, "I don't remember any of that."

"I'm going to say it one more time," Regina pointed at her, "stand down, officer."

Emma pointed right back at her, "Fuck off, officer."

"Okay, now you've really done it," Regina reached in her coat pocket, removing her cell phone. "I'm going to call my boss."

Walking several feet from Emma's car Regina could still hear her yelling back, "Yeah, you do that, tattle tits! Fucking narc!"

After a handful of rings Maleficent finally picked up.

"Mal, I need authorization to suspend a police officer from my investigation."

Looking back Regina saw Emma flipping her off.

"Regina, why is working with local authorities such a problem for you?"

"Ma'am, it's not. I understand how this might sound coming from me... But I think this individual might actually be mentally unstable."

"Her captain says she grew up on those streets and knows them better than anyone. That seems like an asset to our investigation."

"Ma'am, I..."

"I don't want to hear it, Mills. Just work with her. Show me you can do this or forget the promotion."

With that, Maleficent ended the call and Regina was left with dead air. Knowing she had no other choice Regina wandered closer, holding the phone to her ear still and pretending Maleficent was still on the line.

"Well, ma'am, no need to take someone's badge... I think I can, umm... I think I can work something out, ma'am. Okay. Thank you. Yes. Okay, goodbye." Pulling the phone away quickly so Emma wouldn't see the screen had long since been blacked out she turned to her then trying to free her tone of hostility. "I just... I think you and I got off on the wrong foot."

"Oh!' Emma gasped in faux surprise.

"I don't know Boston and you obviously have... a lot of resources and a lot of knowledge about the area that could be... you know, useful."

Emma nodded in mock agreement, "Probably very."

"So, umm... Maybe we can work together on this."

Emma scoffed, "I don't need your help to take down Rumpelstiltskin."

"You wouldn't have even known about him if not for me, so obviously the FBI can get information you can't. And there's a lot more where that comes from," she said, pointing to the file still on Emma's passenger seat. "A lot!"

"Maybe I just need to hear a little, 'I need your help, Emma,'" the blonde teased with a smug look on her face.

Regina shook her head, "I won't be doing that."

"Okay," Emma said, starting to roll her car window up. "Then get your ass back in your car."

"This is ridiculous," Regina huffed. "I'm an FBI agent."

Emma held her hand to her mouth, miming yelling while saying, "I need your help, Emma," in a goofy voice.

Regina rolled her eyes and softly mumbled, "I need your help, Emma."

Now Emma rolled her eyes.

"What is this, a whisper party? I want that third floor to hear it. 'I need your help, Emma.' Then give me a little echo on the 'Emma.' Come on. 'I need your help, Emma-Emma-Emma.'"

Squaring her shoulders, straightening her spine, and swallowing her pride Regina did as requested and Emma immediately jumped out of her car.

"Move," she ordered her as she pushed past her, headed for the apartment building. "Move! God, even doing what I ask you're annoying." When they reached the complex's doors she turned back to Regina, "I will work with you as long as we're clear that this is my case."

Regina frowned, "That's actually wildly incorrect."

Emma just flashed her that disarming, charming grin she had flashed at her in the bar.

"Awesome. Glad you see it my way."

Following Emma inside the building and up the stairs to the seventh floor they were soon standing in front of Belle French's apartment. As Emma's hand rose to knock on the door Regina reached out and touched her wrist, stilling the fist before it could make contact.

"Let me take the lead on this," she asked politely. "I'm a trained interviewer."

"Interviewer? What are you, Barbara Walters? I thought we'd go in there and bring in some heat on her."

"I'm sorry," Regina looked genuinely confused. "What does that even mean?"

"Me and you," Emma pointed back and forth between them. "We're the heat. We go in there, interrogate her, scare the shit out of her..."

Regina cocked her head to the side and smiled condescendingly, "We don't say 'interrogation,' it's too aggressive. Rule number one, catch more with sugar than with a stick."

Emma frowned, "That's a horrible fucking saying."

Regina went on explaining, unphased by Emma's negativity.

"We like to create a genuine personal interest in the subject, allowing them to open up. Then I'll perform instant personality assessments based on the Myers-Briggs theory..." she was rambling now despite Emma's dramatic drop of her head and mimed snoring, "Thematic Apperception Tests and a few others I won't bore you with."

Emma's head perked back up then, a sarcastic look on her face.

"I gotta tell you, I am balls deep in boredom right now." Sighing and nodding in defeat she relents though, "Okay, as long as you don't do that whole long explanation thing again... We'll try it your way first." When she sees Regina smiling at her win she mutters under her breath, "Only because you're older," earning herself a glare.

Regina knocks on the door and just to be a brat Emma raises her hand and starts knocking as well. Soon her and Regina are pushing each others hands back and forth, a steady stream of knocks never ceasing since the first one started the obnoxious sign they were at the door.

"Oh my god," a voice with a French accent behind the door is heard, then the locks being slid back allowing the female occupant to pull it open and reveal who on earth is making all that noise. "What do you want?"

Regina pushes herself a little bit more in front of Emma before addressing the woman in front of them.

"Miss French, I am Special Agent Regina Mills and this is Detective Swan," she jerks her thumb over her shoulder, pointing at Emma who simply nods her head in greeting, "and we would like to ask you a few questions if you could give us a moment."

"Oh, shoot. You know, now is bad." The french woman pouts out her lower lip pretending to be sorry. "I'm making butter. How about other time?" she offers with a broken accent before trying to close the door in their faces.

"How about right fucking now?" Emma asks as she suddenly pushes past Regina and knocks the door open, barreling inside. "Right fucking now sounds good."

Belle throws her hands up in the air in frustration but takes a seat on the couch, Regina and Emma sitting on chairs across from her. Regina quickly thanks their host for allowing them inside while Emma shoots her a quick frown because she's the real reason they're in there.

"So," Regina takes the notepad and pen from her coat pocket, starting the interview. "How long have you lived here?"

Belle picks a cigarette up and lights it, humming in a non-commital way, "I've lived here..." she takes a deep inhale on the cigarette, "Since I moved in."

Regina nods and writes on her notepad while Emma sighs and bends over, squeezing her knees and rocking lightly on the chair in frustration, biting her tongue to keep herself from saying anything.

"Okay," Regina drawls out, trying to coax additional information out, "that's... very helpful. Why don't we get a little more specific? What do you do for a living?"

Belle takes another deep drag and Emma knows she's not going to willingly say shit.

"I know what this asshole does for a living," she says, challenging her to fight back.

Belle frowns, "What you know, asshole?"

"Sugar, no stick," Regina mutters quietly on her right and Emma sits back in her seat, quietly fuming. "Miss French, would I be correct in assuming you speak French?" Belle nods at her like she's a moron and Regina caps her pen. "Voulez-vous aller en prison?"

"I don't understand what you say."

"Nice bullshit French," Emma snarks.

"That was perfect French."

"I mean, I don't understand," Belle clarifies. "What you are talking about? Why I go to jail when I don't do shit?!"

"Ah!" Regina gloats. "So she did understand what I was saying, just not the context."

"Oh, sweet god," Emma grumbles as she stands up. She passes Regina and mutters, "Okay, Rosetta Stone. You're done." Plopping down on the pleather couch next to Belle, Emma squirms tyring to make herself comfortable. "How many porns have been made on this thing?"

Belle simply exhales another lung-full of smoke, "Oh, this couch not of your satisfaction? You're not comfy?"

Emma glares at her, "Let's just get real here. We both know you've been blowing shit up your nose all day. Man," she takes a deep, calming breath, "I get it. There's nothing more I'd love to do than slip out of these skinny jeans and boots, put my feet up, have a little smack. Real good time. Maybe knock back a couple cold ones, a bowl of Cocoa Pebbles, watch some cartoons. I'd get a bowl of coke," she mimes holding a bowl and shaking her head in it, "put my face right in there, cut it with a little Ritalin... Heaven on fucking earth, right?"

"Sure," Belle nods.

"I'd camp out all week for tickets to that show," Emma laughs.

Regina can't believe what she's hearing.

"What is this, Training Day?"

"All fucking week I'd camp out for that! But you," she points her finger at Belle, "you piece of shit, you've been rolling deep for a long time, and now it's time you open up that goddamn mouth and tell us what we want to know."

"You got good point," Belle shakes her head like she's seriously considering what Emma said. "I tell you what, I open my mouth... You get fuck out my house now! How's that for open mouth? Fuck out! You get fuck out!"

"Yeah, yeah. I'll get the fuck out." Emma grumbles and puts her hand on the coffee table to help her stand up, pushing the ash tray on the coffee table towards Regina in the process. "You should really stop smoking though because it's an awfully bad habit. You're leaving half your lipstick in the ashtray," Emma says in an off-handed way that makes Regina notice that all the cigarette butts have red around the rim except one. "I had a great aunt that lost most of her teeth to smoking," Emma rambles, wandering around the apartment to draw Belle's attention away from Regina and the ash tray. "A lot of fistfights too, but mostly smoking. Well we're gonna get out of your hair."

Reaching a closed door Emma acts like she's going to turn the handle.

"That is not front door!" Belle yells at her as Emma lifts her leg and kicks the door in, revealing an old man sitting on the toilet in the bathroom.

"Put your hands where I can see them! Don't fucking move! Is this your drug mule?"

"Oh my god!" Belle screams, "That is my father!"

Emma points her gun towards the toilet bowl, "Do you have balloons of horse up your ass? Are you trying to shit them out now?"

Belle is livid and Regina has managed to bag the lone cigarette butt with an evidence bag and pocket it.

"You break my fucking door!"

Standing up and moving between Belle and Emma, Regina places her hand on Emma's forearm instructing her to stand down.

"Who closes the door to take a shit?"

"Get out, bull in china shop! Out my house!"

"Wow," Regina laughs as the door is slammed behind them. "You are just all stick and no sugar."

Emma frowns at her, "Did you get the cigarette or not?"

"Uh, yeah..." Regina's suddenly struck by how well Emma executed that diversion. Shaking her head she adds, "Of course I did."

Emma heads back down the stairs leaving Regina to follow her.

"I snagged these matches too," Emma calls out, waving them over her shoulder to Regina who immediately bags them as well. "I think our guy likes to go to The Gold Club."

"Let's find out, shall we?" Regina asks, eager to get out of the run down building.

"Hang on," Emma stops suddenly on the second floor, walking two doors down from the stairwell. "That couch was disgusting. I need to wash my hands."

Pulling her keys from her pocket she unlocks the door in front of them.

"Wait a minute," Regina is confused but follows Emma inside. "You actually live here?"

"That's what I said," Emma huffs, standing in front of the sink and scrubbing up to her elbows like a surgeon prepping for surgery.

"Wow," Regina says taking in her surroundings. "Your windows are all boarded up."

"Yeah," Emma shrugs, "I've got the glass, I just don't have the... you know, window blankets."

"The curtains?" Regina offers with a condescending tone and a roll of her eyes.

"Yeah, curtains. Whatever." She notices Regina looking at the picture from many Christmasses ago of her, Granny, Ruby, August, Lily, and Kristoff. "That's just my family," she mumbles.

Regina jumps, embarassed she was caught snooping.

"It's sweet."

Emma looks around nervously, eager for a subject change.

"You hungry? Want something to eat? I didn't finish my sub sandwich the other day," she offers, mostly kidding.

"No, thank you," Regina declines and looks sick at just the thought.

Emma crosses her arms defensively, "Sorry I don't have poached eggs in rubies for you."

"No," Regina backtracks, "I don't mean to be rude, but... one could catch a MRSA infeciton in here, that's all."

Emma glares at her, "Which part of that wasn't rude?"

"Just for your own well-being. For example, that," she points to the front door, "has no extra lock installed. You have no additional methods of security in your own home and as a police officer you should know better. Someone could barge in at any moment, it's not safe."

"No one's coming in here because they know I keep this fully stocked."

Pulling open the fridge reveals a complete arsenal.

"Oh my god."

"Yeah, I know."

"You keep all this in your house?"

Regina reaches a hand out to touch a grenade she sees rolling around loose in the freezer door when Emma barks at her, "Don't touch that! It occassionally ticks. I got it on eBay. It was supposed to be bigger and... Different. It doesn't matter. I'm gonna 'Bad Feedback' his ass, though."