Rumbelle One-shots

Take Me Home

AU of very first OUAT episode when Henry showed up at Emma's front door. Instead, Rumbelled.

"So, what about you? How does such a silver fox such as yourself remain single for so long? How has no girl snatched you up yet?"

Weaver almost rolled his eyes. This undercover job was the worst assignment he'd had in a while and the undercover date he was currently on was sure to be the death of him.

"I work too much," he sighed. "Married to the job, I suppose."

"Well, maybe it's time for a divorce," she drawled. The blonde across the table watched him over the rim of her wine glass as she sipped from it. "Why don't we get out of here?"

"Excuse me for being frank, but I've barely begun my meal. Perhaps once we've finished here, we could-" 

"Explore a different hunger?"

Weaver nearly choked on his food. He knew this was how the woman worked - lure men in and keep them under her heel. She controlled men, exploited them, and then killed them. And right now, he was her target.

"Miss Horvath, I'm a bit more old fashioned than that."

"Then why are you blushing?" She studied him closely. "What exactly do you do for a living, Mr. Weaver?"

"I run a pawnshop."

"I am disinclined to believe you." Miss Horvath raised an eyebrow at him. "Why haven't you touched your drink?"

"I like to savor such things."

"I think," she started,leaning in close, "that you won't drink because you're working right now. Isn't that right, detective?"

Before Weaver could answer, Horvath was lunging across the table, one hand outstretched towards him, the other brandishing the steak knife from the table. With one swift move, Weaver caught her open hand, directing her attack away from his body. Her lithe body tumbled to the ground and Weaver quickly kicked the knife from her grasp. 

"Miss Horvath, you are under arrest for assaulting a police officer and the murders of Alex Palmer, Rob Wilde, and Gus Porter. You have the right to remain silent..." Weaver rattled off her rights as he led her from the restaurant. Dozens of eyes watched the incident, clapping slowly as he led he away.

Weaver made sure he did the minimal amount of paperwork in order to keep her for the night. He dropped with a sigh at his desk, rifling through the paperwork he intended to bring home with him.

"You can take a day off if you need it, Weaver."

The detective looked up to see his boss standing next to his desk.

"No, sir, I was just going over the paperwork."

"That bullshit about being married to the job? I know that bothered you."

"Of course it fucking bothered me. I've been married before -twice! My first wife left, and my second wife died, just like both of my sons. That does not make me incapable of doing my job. So, with all due respect, Captain, I will be here tomorrow. And every day after. Because this fucking job is all I have left," Weaver seethed. "Now if you'll excuse me, I am leaving for the night. I have a very big day tomorrow with Miss Horvath."

Weaver didn't even remember driving home, only the echo of his apartment door closing behind him. Tonight, the loneliness of the apartment weighed heavily on him. Flinging his denim jacket onto the kitchen counter, he rummaged through the cabinets until he found his favorite whiskey. He hadn't even unscrewed the cap when someone knocked on his front door.

Weaver held his breath, hoping whoever it was would just go away. But the knock came again. With a sigh, he swung open the door and was met by a young boy.

"Hi, are you Detective Weaver?" 

"Yes, I am," Weaver eyed the child warily. "And who are you?"

"My name is Gideon. I'm your son."

Yes it's short, it was never meant to be a full fic. But I might be convinced to write more based on the responses I get. Comments and suggestions are welcome!