In Marvel, the System Put Me to Work.
Bang!
Claire strode out of the chief's office and slammed the door.
Bang!
She stormed out of the police station.
The corners of Claire's mouth immediately curled upward. Everything had gone smoothly.
As she left the station, she saw dispatchers, clerks, detectives, and officers either on the phone or about to make a call.
Life in a small town was boring. There was only so much gossip to go around, and the early birds got it first.
The town was tiny, with little to do for entertainment. The news would spread through Storybrooke in an hour or so.
Claire returned to the Three Little Pigs Inn.
Geralt opened the door.
"Done?"
"Of course!" Claire patted the bunny on her chest, and her two big white bunnies bounced excitedly at their owner's encouragement.
"This is Storybrooke. It's Claire's turf!"
"Uh-huh, sure." Geralt nodded absently. "Where's Simmons?"
Claire had come in alone.
"Him..." Claire said irritably. "He doesn't believe we can catch the real killer. No, he thinks Thompson is the real killer... Forget it. Let's not talk about him."
Claire tossed a backpack to Nancy.
"What's this?" Nancy asked.
"A change of clothes."
"I don't need one."
Nancy hadn't planned to spend the night in Storybrooke. Black Pine Town wasn't far by car, after all. But when she thought of her father, once an elite lawyer and now slowly turning into a disheveled drunk, her heart sank. He probably wouldn't even notice if his daughter stayed out all night.
Nancy unzipped the backpack. Her cheeks flushed, and she glared at Claire.
There were clothes inside, all right—but they were black stockings, white stockings, sheer gauze, and even a few adult toys.
Claire grinned shamelessly and gave Nancy an encouraging gesture. "Go for it!"