[open] broken truck, broken dreams

Graham was out on patrol like usual. Sometimes he would be in the office, but he liked cruising around and seeing what was up around town. It help break the monotony. Not that Graham minded not having a whole bunch to do (other than deal with Oliver and attempt to stop him from doing anything rash when considering his target was Mr. Gold, who one did not want on their bad side). Still it was nice to have something other than sit around all day eating peanut butter and jelly sandwiches that he couldn’t really taste.

So here he was, driving around when he saw a guy on the side of the road, seeming that his truck had broken down. Oh, that really sucked. Graham wished that he knew how to work with cars. Oh wait. He did. That was weird that he had forgotten for a split second. Well, he was no expert, but he could at least take a look and offer a ride to the guy if he needed it. After all, if he turned out to be a creep who was trying to kill him, Graham had a gun and he never missed if the worst came to worst. But he doubted it.

In his police car, Graham pulled up behind the truck and got out of the truck. Getting a closer look of the guy, Graham couldn’t help but feel (and yes, it was odd to feel anything for Graham, which made this a profound moment for him) like he knew him from somewhere, even though the face didn’t feel familiar, it was just his… presence that seemed familiar. Storybrooke was small, and Graham figured he probably walked by this guy on the street at some point.

“Do you need help?” Graham placed his hands on his hips, thus lifting his jacket slightly, unintentionally showing his gun to prevent any sort of resistance, because well, one could never be too safe.