#reply to Regina and answer more pending asks and tags

[academicgangster]

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[shireness-says]

Election Day

Summary: This is, arguably, the stupidest thing her best friend has ever done. So how in the hell did Charlie Jones get dragged into it? A 5B Divergence 'verse future snippet. ~1.8K. Rated T for language. Also on AO3.

A/N: @snidgetsafan and I plotted this out a couple of months ago, and it remains an absolutely ridiculous idea. Hopefully in a good way. I love the dynamic of these two idiots.

Tagging: @thejollyroger-writer, @profdanglaisstuff, @captainsjedi, @ultraluckycatnd, @superchocovian, @snowbellewells, @killianjones4ever82, @ohmakemeahercules, @let-it-raines, @lifeinahole27, @kmomof4, @scientificapricot, @spartanguard, @courtorderedcake, @justanotherwannabeclassic, @teamhook, @thisonesatellite

Enjoy, and let me know what you think!

~~~~~~

“This is the stupidest thing we’ve ever done,” Charlie grumbles to her best friend - former best friend? That may depend on the next two weeks - from their table in front of the town gazebo. Their campaign table. For the mayoral campaign that Vera decided to stage.

You can’t make this shit up.

Honestly, it fucking figures that this is how Vera Mills-Locksley would stage a bout of teenage rebellion. Vera had inherited none of the malevolence but all of the attitude of her mothers - biological and adopted. Generally, that means she’s more bark than bite, more prone to mouthing off than actually doing anything (or at least doing anything genuinely shitty - Charlie’s found herself helping with more than her share of insane ideas over the years). There had been an incident last month about curfew, though, after they and Gideon French had got home a little late from a bit of post-football celebrating. Okay, an hour late. Charlie kind of understands why Aunt Regina had blown her top - this was Storybrooke, after all, where anything could happen. It definitely didn’t help that they hadn’t called or texted. It was probably a small miracle that Fitz or Dorothy hadn’t stopped them in the cruiser.

Still. Vera was… well, Vera, and even if the town agrees that she’s generally a good kid, Charlie knows from long experience that she doesn’t like being told what to do. The really unfortunate moment had come when the redhead had realized that she’d turn 18 only two days before the mayoral election - the election that, until then, Aunt Regina was running unopposed in. For an office that would allow Vera to change the curfew time. 

And when you phrase it like that, it’s almost too easy for a teenager with an attitude and an interesting concept of justice to decide that she’s going to run for mayor and drag her best friend along with her.

The Demon Teen in question (title patent pending, and possibly subject to change if it turns out that Charlie can achieve a new level of frustration before the actual election) hums skeptically. “Is it though? What about the time we borrowed your dad’s boat for that party?”

“Ship,” Charlie answers automatically after years spent in the Jones household. Unfortunately, Vera has a point; it definitely wasn’t one of their brighter moments, though in Charlie’s defense, Christian Erikson was just as good a kisser as he was cute. Still, she’d ended up grounded for a month and scraping barnacles, plus treated to a great safe sex refresher course after her dad had discovered Vera and Gideon trying to get things going in one of the crew cabins. All in all, a goddamn shit show. “But fine, second stupidest thing we’ve ever done. You do admit this is stupid, though?”

“Oh, undeniably,” Vera scoffs. “It’s only stupid if we don’t win though.”

“Ok, that is not how it works.”

“Hey, it’s my plan, it works however I want it to. Jeez, it’s almost like you don’t want to be my vice-mayor.”

“Gee, I wonder why,” Charlie mutters under her breath, before continuing less subtly. “That’s not even a thing.”

“Again, my plan, so I say it is.” As some poor unsuspecting townsperson walks by, she quickly plasters on a grin. “Would you like a campaign button?” she calls. “Vote Mills-Locksley for Mayor on November 4th!”

“Okay, so if it’s a thing, what does a ‘vice-mayor’ even do?” Charlie continues once Mr. Harris is out of earshot. 

“Fuck if I know,” Vera admits flippantly. “Look, it’s a good campaign decision. You’re a Jones, and a Charming for that matter. That means something in this town. I may be more charismatic and better suited —” Charlie squawks in protest at that - no one would ever claim that Vera is well suited to be mayor in any reality - but her best friend plows on ahead “— but you’re more…”

“Trustworthy?”

“That’s the one.” You had to give Vera that - she was always fully aware of how people might see her, considering her bloodline, and somehow still managed not to punch people for it. That was more Charlie’s job, anyways. “Now try to look happy, someone’s coming.”

Charlie squints into the distance, only to recognize the familiar gait. “That’s just Dad.”

At least he comes bearing coffee cups from Granny’s. “There’s my favorite candidates!” he calls as he approaches.

“You know I can’t actually serve any office, right?” Charlie questions wryly (not snaps or snarks or any other adjective the look on her father’s face suggests - just questions). “I won’t be eighteen until May. I am literally just a campaign tactic, and a pretty obvious one at that.”

“Play nice, Bean,” her dad murmurs as passes Charlie a travel cup before changing back to a normal volume. “Now, that’s a hot chocolate for you, sweetheart, with cinnamon of course. And Vera, a s’mores mocha for you.”

“Thanks, Captain Jones,” Vera smiles with that politician smile she’s perfected in the past few weeks. Honestly, for a girl who’s never shown a lick of interest in politics in her life - and Charlie’s been there for the vast majority of it, she would know - the redhead sure has adapted quickly.

“I believe that’s more respect than you’ve ever showed me in your life, Miss Mills-Locksley,” the pirate replies with that same wry tone Charlie uses. She had to learn it somewhere, after all. “It would have been much more appreciated when I found you and Gideon French trying to defile my ship, but beggars can’t be choosers, as the saying goes.”

“I think they also say ‘better late than never’,” Vera points out. “Also, ‘what’s done is done’.”

Charlie turns to look at her friend in disbelief. “Really helping your cause, aren’t you?” 

“Out of necessity, diplomacy has become my greatest strength.” God, Charlie hopes she’s kidding. Or being sarcastic. Or literally anything but meaning that sincerely, because the truth of the matter is that there’s only so much a human being can believe and a diplomatic Vera Mills-Locksley isn’t one of those things. 

“Yeah, sure it has,” Charlie settles for mumbling under her breath. Mutinously seems like a good descriptor, here, if she’s looking to become even more like her dad than everyone already claims she is.

(It’s the hair and the ears and maybe a bit of the face, honestly. The eyes and the attitude are all from her mom.)

Vera shoots her a bit of a dirty look, but the plastered-on smile is back only a moment later to schmooze Charlie’s dad. “What can we do for you today, Captain?” she makes sure to emphasize, probably to throw them both off. It would be totally in character, honestly. 

“I was hoping to procure some more buttons please, future Madam Mayor.” 

“Oh my God,” Charlie groans. “How could you have possibly gotten rid of all of those so quickly? We gave you, like, 50 a couple of days ago.” Her dad is arguably - hell, definitely the biggest supporter of this poorly planned campaign. Mom had just kind of rolled her eyes, though Charlie could spot a smile too; Uncle Robin mostly seemed conflicted between pride at Vera’s ambition and disappointment at her effort to spite her mother. And Aunt Regina was flat out pissed, and trying not to show it so that Vera couldn’t accuse her of undermining the sanctity of the election (they were cut from the same cloth, nurture over nature, and Vera totally would). Dad, though… Dad clearly thought that this unexpected campaign was the best and funniest thing to happen in Storybrooke in ages, a callback to his chaos pirate days or something. He handed out buttons at the docks, and at the Sheriff’s station, and at Granny’s - especially if Aunt Regina was there to see it. 

“I’m just here to support the cause,” he says smoothly. Not that Charlie believes that for a second; even though she’s sure he is proud, in his own weird way, it’s definitely for his own entertainment too. She halfway remembers him running for mayor one year when she was a kid just to piss Aunt Regina off. Maybe she’s carrying on the world’s stupidest family tradition or something. 

“Now tell me, Madam Mayor,” he continues, deftly ignoring Charlie’s irritation and general foul mood - seriously, you’d think he’d be more considerate of his daughter - “what will you do first, once you’re elected?”

“Oh, we’re so not winning the election,” Vera snorts.

“Now lass, I wouldn’t be so sure of that. I’m told that the democratic system is full of surprises - ”

Despite Dad’s best attempts at encouragement, Vera just keeps laughing. “Oh no. I won’t. I’m a friggin’ teenager running for mayor, it’s not going to happen. And even if it does, I’ll resign after a week at most. I’ve still got high school and college and drama club, I don’t have time to be mayor.”

“So this is just to get back at your mother, then?” Dad asks. “On the one hand, I’m always happy to see Regina sweat a bit, but as a parent I feel like I shouldn’t encourage this kind of mutiny, lass.”

Charlie takes a sip of her hot chocolate, leaning back to watch the show. Frankly, this looks like it will be the most entertaining part of this whole idiotic affair.

The half a grimace that Vera pulls in response sure is a look, at least. “I mean, kind of? But mostly I’m hoping to get some bargaining power. I figure, if I concede - or at least resign and give the office back to Mom… maybe we can negotiate an extended curfew.”

It’s diabolical, truly. Charlie’s kind of impressed, not that she’ll ever admit it. Her dad clearly is, too, as he barks out a laugh and grins back at Vera. “That’s quite the plan you’ve concocted, Miss Mills-Locksley. A pirate after my own heart. You have my vote.”

“Thanks, Uncle Kil; I’ll be counting on that the Tuesday after next.”

——— 

They do lose, of course; they’re a couple of teenagers running for office, one more willingly than the other. It was inevitable, no matter how many campaign buttons Killian Jones hands out everywhere in town.

There is a negotiation, however, where Vera agrees to give a concession speech supporting her mother’s re-election in return for a revised curfew. The extra hour on Friday and Saturday nights isn’t much, but it feels like a big victory now that all is said and done. Charlie’s just glad it’s over; she certain won’t be pursuing a career in politics. 

(The button, however, stays on her dad’s desk in a special little frame Mom bought just for him. She’s never going to outrun the whole fiasco, but as far as Dad’s concerned, maybe that’s not all bad.)