Before you start reading, I'd like to give a quick shout-out to HogwartsDreamer113 for agreeing to be my beta reader. Thanks for giving me feedback, and putting up with my questions and such. :) I really appreciate it.

Quick note: There is a section of this chapter that is in the past.. You'll all be able to figure out which one, I think. :)

Thoughts are italicized.

No, this is not AU. I'll be following along with the UOAT main plot.

And, finally, NO, I do not own Once Upon A Time, Ruby Red, Granny, Emma, Henry, or anyone associated with Once Upon A Time. I do, however, own my OC. Well.. Part of her, anyway. :)


ONE

"Good morning, Rebecca!" Ruby smirked, eyeing the medium-sized woman hunched over the diner's counter, dark blue-gray eyes focused intently on the book in her lithe fingers. The waitress found her like this every morning, sitting on the third stool in from the entrance, nose buried deep within the aged pages of whatever book she'd picked out for her entertainment that day.. Or hour. The woman went through books like Ruby went through eyeliner. Every other morning, she'd order an iced mocha, a blueberry muffin, and ask for a glass of water before falling silent as people went in an out, eating breakfast or ordering it 'to-go' on their way to work. Ruby rather liked Rebecca's company. Granted, Rebecca was quiet, but only when submerged in a good book, or thinking. Ruby thought she was entertaining when she did decide to use those vocal cords of hers.

"Morning." The woman murmured out of habit, not really listening as the tall, sky-scraper legged waitress leaned over the counter and asked her how she was. Her eyes flitted from one word to another, her thumbnail caught between her teeth as she forced herself not to react outwardly to what was happening in her novel. Only when something hard slapped against the bare skin of her arm did she look up.

"Hey!" She cried out, her voice soft as she brought her hand up to rub the reddening skin. "Ruby, that really hurt."

"You weren't paying attention." The waitress quipped, picking up her empty water-glass so she could fill it. "Now, answer my question."

"What question?" Her fingers brushed a piece of her long, ash blonde hair behind her ear as she continued massaging the abused flesh.

"How did your date with Sean go?"

She did not miss how the woman visibly tensed. Her back straightened, her gaze dropping back to the item in her hands. Ruby frowned slightly. So, it hadn't gone well..

"It didn't." Rebecca replied, opening her book again as she continued in an 'oh-well' tone. "He didn't show up." The other woman had known her long enough to know that the voice was a façade. Her dark brown eyes took in her now slouching form.

"Oh, Beck.. I'm sorry." She offered, genuine.

"Don't be." She shrugged, her hair falling back over her ear. "I knew he was only doing it because his father wanted him to. After what happened between him and Ashley.." She trailed off, shaking her head. "I'm glad he didn't show. It's obvious that he still cares a great deal for her. Besides.." She perked up a bit, smiling. "I don't really need a relationship, at the moment. I have these." She lifted the sack that sat on the ground below her, filled to the brim with novels of all different shapes and sizes.

One pair of heavily made-up dark brown eyes rolled in their sockets, eliciting a scowl from the blonde.

"Oh, don't even start Rubes." She scoffed, setting the bag down. But that didn't stop Ruby. She'd known it wouldn't.

"You're twenty-nine years old, Beck. Almost thirty!" She brought her hand forward, her palm up. "What kind of almost twenty-nine year old doesn't want a boyfriend?"

"The kind that has a strong affinity for novels, I imagine." Came an elegant voice behind them. Both women stiffened, recognizing it immediately. There was only one reason he would be in here at this time of the morning. Rebecca made it a point to sit up straight and smile at the man, but, in the process of turning on her stool, lost grip of her book, which tumbled from her lap onto the expensive leather shoes of Mr. Gold.

"Oh!" Rebecca dropped to the floor, more concerned about her old copy of Through the Looking Glass than the shoes of the wicked man in front of her. Her hands brushed over the front cover, the spine, before resting on the back. No torn pages, no broken bindings. Realizing what had just happened, she paused, an apology forming on her tongue. She wouldn't want him cross with her.

"Mr. Gold, I am so-"

"It's quite all right, dear. It happens to the best of us." He stated plainly, watching as she rose. She was almost as tall as him, but she felt as if she were a foot shorter, the way he was scrutinizing her. The man practically reeked of intimidation. "I've gone through some paperwork the past few hours, and discovered that you are late on your rent bill. I came here to ask you when you would have it. Hopefully, today. That studio apartment of yours has caught the eyes of a few people." His lips curled up slightly. "But, I'm a generous man, so I came to you first, to hear your side of it, before evicting you."

Rebecca felt her heart stop. She turned her head to the left, glancing at the calendar.

October 23rd.

The rent.. Shit. The rent!

"Oh, right.." She forced herself to meet his gaze. "The rent was due yesterday.." She rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly. "It must have skipped my mind."

Mr. Gold lifted an eyebrow, an incredulous look on his face.

"Surely, you cannot be serious."

"I am. But I have the money, if you would like it." She offered, hoping desperately that he would. He watched her for a few long moments, before giving her a small, fake smile. She could almost feel his eyes raking over her features, slimy and cold. They paused briefly over the scar marring her left cheek, just below her eye, before a grin broke over his face.

"I'll take what you have."

Rebecca knelt, pushing her hair over one of her shoulders as she pulled her wallet out of her bag. Inside the cloth folds sat her rent money, which she'd meant to give to him the previous day. She wasn't normally the kind of girl to carry $625 around town.

"Here." She pulled out twelve fifty-dollar bills, counting it in front of him so he saw it all. "Six hundred. It's all there."

"Ah, but you've forgotten about the late fee." He gave her another fake smile as he snatched the bills from her hand, counting them once, twice, then a third time before sliding them into the inner pocket of his suit jacket. Rebecca tilted her head slightly.

"Late-fee?"

"You were 24 hours late on your bill. The late-fee is $23." He informed her, his hands coming together on the top of his cane. His fingertips drummed across the veined skin of his hand.

Rebecca's mouth twitched into a frown as her fingers skimmed over the remaining twenty-five dollars in her wallet. She mulled over the idea of trying to talk him out of it, to charm her way out of that damn late fee, but this was Mr. Gold. If you made a deal with him, you would deal with the drawbacks. That didn't mean she wasn't going to try, though.

".. But-"

"-Is there a problem?" He questioned, eyes narrowing slightly. Rebecca swallowed her pride, not at all surprised by his reaction. So much for that plan. Pulling out her remaining cash - cash meant to be spent on the horrendously minuscule amount of groceries she needed for the next two weeks -, she placed it in his waiting palm.

"No, sir. Keep the change." It's not like you carry around ones, anyway..

"Good girl." Mr. Gold grinned, counting the bills three times, before stowing them away with the others. "Thank you, Ms. Ericsson. Good day."

She bit her tongue, her argument dying in her throat. "Good-bye, Mr. Gold." She muttered, waiting for the door to close and his form to disappear down the street before relaxing. She plopped down into her chair, clutching her book to her chest. A hand fell on her shoulder.

"Rebecca?"

"I'm fine, Rubes." Rebecca assured her, smiling gently. "Really."

"I thought you were going to pass out." Ruby whispered. "You were, like.. Deathly pale."

"I was just thinking." Thinking about how I'm going to starve these next two weeks.. I need a better job.

Ruby's hand left her shoulder, returning to her person as she backed away from the counter. When Rebecca looked over, she found her friend watching her, a motherly expression on her face.

"..What?"

"That was your entire paycheck, wasn't it?" Her reaction was Ruby's answer. She cringed, before shaking her head like nothing happened.

"Nope! I'm fine." She opened her book and began reading again. Ruby continued watching her, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. She'd seen the state of her kitchen the last time they had their weekly movie night. Her cupboards and pantry had been bare, save for some Ramen and popcorn. Her refrigerator contained apple juice, milk, and eggs that were well past their expiration date. She usually had plenty of fruit and vegetables (she practically lived in Storybrooke's Community Garden during the spring and summer), but this year had been harsh, so she'd let the families with children have what the garden produced. Ruby knew that she wouldn't ask people for help. Rebecca was always there to offer assistance, but she turned it away when she needed it. Ruby sighed. Her friend was too kind. She decided then that she would help her whether she wanted it or not.

"How about you drop by after work? I need to go shopping, and Granny wants me to stop by to help clean up a few rooms in the Inn. You know, in case someone actually shows up and decides to stay." She teased. Rebecca fought the smirk itching its way to her lips.

"I can't, Rubes. I told Mr. French that I'd work overtime tonight.. I need the money."

"C'mon, Beck.." Ruby clasped her hands in front of her, bending forward as if she were praying. "Pleeeaassee...?"

"The puppy-dog face isn't going to work, Rubes. I've seen it hundreds of times." She told her, flipping the page, avoiding the brunette's gaze. Ruby smirked slightly, before putting on the saddest, most longing-filled face she could.

"Rebecca..." She drawled. "Please?"

Rebecca shook her head.

"No."

"Look at me."

"No, Ruby." She would not give in. Ruby thought she would always win. Not this time.

"Beeccckkk.." Ruby's voice trembled.

Rebecca glanced up. Instantly, her resolve crumbled.

"Well.. I.." Ruby's bottom lip quivered, and Rebecca could've sworn she saw tears welling in her eyes. She drooped her head, defeated, unable to peer upon her saddened features any longer. ".. Okay."

"Woo!" Ruby shot up, grinning. "I'll see you at six then, yeah?"

Rebecca managed another smile, nodding.

"All right." She glanced at the clock. "Oh, shit! I'm late!" She downed the last of her iced mocha, shoveled the muffin into her mouth, then gulped down her water, all while shoving her book in her bag and slinging it over her shoulder. "Bu-bye, Ooby!" She managed to get out through chews.

"Hey!" Ruby called out. Rebecca stopped, whirling around to see Ruby holding up a paper bag. "Granny packed you a lunch. You don't have time to argue, so just take it and get your butt over to the flower shop!"

Rebecca rolled her eyes and took it from her.

"Thanks, Rubes." She peered into the kitchen, waving when she saw the old woman. "Thanks, Granny!"

"You're welcome, dearie! Have a good day!"


Morose gray eyes followed fingers as they roamed over the black and white keys, applying the faintest amount of pressure when needed. The notes hung heavy in the air, soft and somber. A sigh escaped her parted lips as she leaned backwards, away from the piano, in an attempt to peek outside. Green trees swayed in the gentle breeze, the flowers bending with them. She wished so desperately to go outside, to run and play, but she was a lady. A lady had no time for such nonsense.

The sound of someone's hand coming down sharply on the keys startled the girl, who jumped as the ugly notes shot out of the instrument. Her blonde ringlets whipped around as she turned her head, staring up at the irritated woman standing before her.

"What do you think you are doing, young lady?" Her question came out in a hiss, her blue eyes bearing lividly down on her.

"I am taking a break." She swallowed, not wanting to upset her further. "I've finished with all of my etiquette today. Madam Luisa says-"

"-I care not for the words of Madam Luisa, they obviously mean nothing. You sit here, slouched over this useless waste of space attempting to play something, when you should be studying your French. Monsieur Emile is expecting you to be prepared for your exam tomorrow afternoon."

"I am prepared, mother." She replied politely, folding her hands and setting them gently in her lap. She eyed the light blue fabric, seeking the courage to ask for the one thing she'd longed for since the summer's bright orange sun appeared the month before.

To go outside, even if just for a minute or two.

"Oh? Well, then, how about we go ask him to examine you now, hmm?"

"Mother, I'm sure Monsieur Emile has more important things to do, at the moment. He surely would not appreciate us dropping in; He would not be prepared. It would be quite rude."

Her mother paused, her heavily made-up face loosing its anger for a moment. Her eyes softened a bit when they met her daughter's again.

"... You are quite right, dearest." She smiled gently. It didn't reach her eyes, but the girl knew she was trying. "I apologize. Mummy's a bit on edge today."

"S'alright."

"'It Is All-Right'." She corrected, though her lips were still in a slight smirk. ".. Run along, Love. I'll call you for tea."

She stared up at her, shocked.

".. I'm able to do what I want for the next few hours?"

Her mother nodded.

"Of course, Darling, just be careful."

She leapt off the piano bench, about to break into a sprint, when the woman snatched her by her collar.

"Ladies do not run. I suggest you walk, lest you make a fool of yourself in front of the help."

"Yes, mother.." She gave a half-hearted curtsey, then turned on her heel and began speed walking down the hall. Her little heels clicked against the floor, steadily gaining speed. The door was there, it was so close. Her heart lurched excitedly when the doors opened, and a gust of warm summer air hit her small frame, lifting the dark smog over her heart.

"Sweet Heart?"

As quickly as it had risen, it fell, crashing into her stomach, leaving it churning, upset. She turned slowly, seeing her mother hurry down the hall towards her.

"Please don't dirty up your dress, Sweet heart, we're having Lord Reed over for tea later."

She grinned, nodding.

"Yes, mother! May I go now?"

"Yes." As soon as her mother spoke, she turned, heading for the open doors, only to be stopped again. "Wait, dear?"

She fought the strong, almost overwhelming urge to groan. But she was a lady. And a lady that groaned in public or otherwise was uncouth, and a poor excuse of a lady. She twisted again to face her creator.

"Be careful by the trees, dearest. The gardener said there was a massive rabbit hole by one of the old oaks. We wouldn't want you tripping down it and soiling your dress, now, would we?"

"No, mummy.

"Good girl. Run along."


"Good night, Mr. French!"

"Night, Rebecca. Drive safe!"

Rebecca closed the door of the flower shop behind her, mindful of her feet as she went down the steps. The bitter autumn wind nipped at her exposed flesh, and she shuddered, tugging her scarf free from her bag to wrap around her neck as she went down the street.

Because the diner wasn't really all that far from the shop, she decided to walk. She was very low on money, and her car was getting dangerously close to 'E'. She didn't mind walking, not really. Ever since she was a little girl, she'd loved being outside. The sky, the clouds, the breezes, the smells; She loved everything about the outdoors, even if the weather was bad. Another small gust of wind brought with it the delicious scents of autumn: The crisp leaves, the moist earth, with a twist of wet dog.

She paused in her stride. Crisp leaves, moist earth, and.. Wet dog?

"Pongo!"

Rebecca whirled around just in time to see a large black and white Dalmatian hurtling towards her. He was sopping wet, and being pursued by a very distressed Archie Hopper, the town's psychologist.

"Ms. Ericsson, Look out!"

Rebecca froze, before making a last-minute decision. She dove out of the way, turning as she did so, and began watching the dog run. Her eyes zoned in on the clear bubbles floating up and away in his midst. Oh, no.. She fought her smile as Archie stopped at her side, sucking in air.

"I need to start jogging." He announced between breaths. Rebecca offered him a sympathetic smile.

"I'm surprised, Dr. Hopper. I thought Dalmatians had an affinity for water. Haven't you bathed Pongo before?"

"Of course I have." He said, a slight defensive edge to his voice, before he sighed. "Just.. Not outside."

"Oh, no." She brought her hand up to cover her mouth as she smiled. "I take it he didn't enjoy that."

"No, no.. Not really.." He sounded tired.. Exhausted really. Rebecca let her eyes wander from his face. He had what she assumed were dog soap bubbles all over his nice sweater vest, and his white shirt dripped with water, clinging to his arms. His gray slacks were covered in soap and dog hair, and his shoes looked like they'd seen better days.

"Dr. Hopper, you're soaked to the bone." She started unwrapping the plaid scarf from her neck.

"I have Pongo to thank for that.." He said sheepishly, running his hand over his face. "I apologize, Ms. Ericsson, I wasn't planning on him running away. It's my fault he almost hit you."

"It's fine, Dr. Hopper, things happen. Please, Ms. Ericsson is way too formal for my taste." She held out her hand. "Call me Rebecca."

Archie Hopper turned and, for the first time that night, looked her in the eyes.

"Then, please, by all means, call me Archie." He offered his hand, then paused. "I'd shake your hand, but.. Well.." He wrinkled his nose at the dog hair and soap coating his palm, before shaking his head. "You seem to be on your way to something, so I'll let you get to it."

"Would you like any help getting Pongo back?" She inquired. He shook his head.

"No, no, I'm fine. Don't worry about me! It's cold outside, and you look frozen. Go inside somewhere before you freeze."

"Says the one drenched from head to toe." She shot back playfully, chuckling as she lifted the scarf from her shoulders. "Here." She held it out to him. His ultramarine eyes widened in shock at the gesture.

"Oh, no, I'll get it wet."

Rebecca fought the urge to roll her eyes.

"It's completely fine, I'm offering. Take it, I've got at least ten more at home."

Archie shook his head.

"I can't, I'll make it smell like wet dog." He looked almost nervous, worried that she'd snap at him for getting her scarf wet, or smelly.

"Archie, come on. It's fifty degrees outside, and you're wet. Please, just take it, I don't want you getting sick." Her tone was firm.

He eyed her, wary, then took it.

"..Thank you, Ms. Ericsson."

"Rebecca." She corrected with a grin. "Good luck getting Pongo. I'm rooting for you!"

"Thank you, Ms-" He stopped when she shot him a glare, relaxing when he realized it lacked any real heat. ".. Rebecca."

"You're quite welcome, Archie. Have a great night!"

"You too, thanks."

They parted, walking (or in Archie's case, jogging) their separate ways.


Emma Swan was having a bad day. Well, two bad days, actually. First, she went on a date that she knew wasn't going to go well (because it wasn't really a date at all. She'd known that going in, but the dude had surprised her by flipping a table and its contents onto her, and stunned her with the jab about family. Not that he'd known. Well.. Yeah, okay, he knew, she'd told him that she was an orphan, but that was beside the point). Then she got home to have a few drinks and eat her sad little birthday cupcake (28 years of absolute bliss. Hoo-rah), and some kid appears on her doorstep claiming to be her friggin' son. Turns out, the little bastard (literally.. Oh, she was mean. Shit, who was she talking, her parents probably weren't married, either) is, so she takes him back (it's the right thing to do. She'd been to jail before, she wasn't doing it again). Turns out he's crazy. She should have known. Just her luck. Her crazy ten-year old comes looking for her, wielding the biggest book of fairy tales she'd ever seen, and claims that they're all real (she really could see his mom being the evil queen, though. That chick was a stone-cold bitch). Then she's in jail, because a wolf (WOLF!) was standing in the middle of the goddamn road, and she veered off. Wakes up in jail. JAIL. Then she's accused of being drunk and swerving off (which she didn't, there was a goddamn wolf), and no one believes her. Then, the kid goes missing again. So she helps Queen Bitch and Sheriff Doofus find him, which leads to another wonderful conversation with Queen Bitch, who said, in a very rude and blunt manner, that she wasn't Henry's mom.

Which, she wasn't, she reminded herself. Biologically, yes, but not spiritually (Was that the right word? She didn't raise him, that's what she was getting at). But that mayor, Regina.. Something was up with her. Emma was many things, but stupid was not one of them. While she may not be Henry's 'mom', she still had a right to know that he was safe.

So, she was going to stay until she knew if he was or not. It was a bad idea, she knew it. But she couldn't help it.

'You're doing it for yourself, for closure.'

She clenched her fists, staring up at the sign of 'Granny's Bed and Breakfast'.

".. I can't believe I'm doing this."

Emma reached forward and gently pushed the door open, her eyes falling on an older woman as she argued with a tall, leggy brunette that had red in her hair and WAY too much make-up on. A woman with ash blonde hair and steely blue eyes stood to the side, her arms crossed as she watched the scene in front of her with an almost amused look on her face.

"..You're out all night, and now you're going out again!" The old woman spat, causing the brunette to scoff.

"I should've just moved to Boston!"

The old woman didn't like that very much. She glared at the younger one.

"Well, I'm sorry that my heart attack interfered with your plans to sleep your way down the eastern seaboard!"

The blonde made eye contact with Emma, eyes widening in shock. She immediately cleared her throat, drawing the two women out of their enraged stupor. Emma took her chance.

"Excuse me? I'd like a room.."

The old woman stopped, staring at her like she was a ghost or something for a few good moments, before giving her the widest smile she'd ever seen.

"Really?" She moved over, standing behind the counter. "Would you like a forest view or a square view? Normally, there's an upgrade fee for the square, but, as friends do, I'll wave it."

"Square is fine." She replied, honestly wanting nothing more than to collapse on a bed.

The old woman smiled at her again.

"All right, now, what's the name?"

"Swan. Emma Swan."

"Emma.." Sounded someone behind her. She turned, coming face to face with a man dressed in finely tailored attired. He had a hooked nose, his teeth crooked. "What a lovely name."

"Thanks." She replied politely, albeit uneasily after noticing the tense postures of the women behind him. Even the blonde was rigid.

"Ladies.." He greeted, before turning his attention to the old woman as she handed him a roll of bills.

"It's all here." She spoke fast.

"Yes, yes.. Of course it is, dear. Thank you." He looked at Emma again, eyes dark. She could not tell what emotions lay within them, besides curiosity. "You enjoy your stay.." He went to walk away, pausing before to say: "Emma." Then, he made his way out, without so much as a word in the two girls' direction. As soon as he was gone, she spoke.

"Who was that?"

"Mr. Gold. He owns the place." The brunette with too much make-up on answered.

"The inn?"

"No, the Town." The blonde said disdainfully, though Emma knew she was not the source of it.

"So, how long will you be staying?" The old woman asked, grabbing Emma's attention again.

"A week. Just a week." Not a day longer, you aren't his mom. She reminded herself again.

"Great." She reached behind her, plucking a key from the wall. "Rebecca, be a doll and take her to her room, if you'd be so kind?"

"Of course, Granny." The blonde one said, stepping forward to take the key. Emma watched as she turned to her, a gentle, welcoming grin on her pretty face. "Right this way."

They went up a flight of stairs, and Emma was gracious for the girl's silence. She really wasn't in the mood for talking. She watched the blonde's curly ponytail bob as they walked down a hall, paused behind her when she stopped in front of a door. Emma noted their slight height difference, a good two inches separating the tops of their heads.

"Here's your room." She turned and smiled softly, handing her the key. "Welcome to Storybrooke, Emma Swan."

Emma returned her smile, only a bit half-heartedly.

"Thanks." She took the key from her hand, unlocked the door, and went inside.

Rebecca waited down the hall until she heard the door close before moving back downstairs. As she rounded the railing at the bottom, her eyes fell upon a quaint sight: Ruby and Granny were standing by the window, staring outside with confused expressions on their faces.

"Are you seeing what I'm seeing?" Ruby questioned, her voice quiet. Granny nodded.

"It's been broken for so long.. Maybe Regina paid to have it fixed?"

"What?" Rebecca stood beside her, glancing from her to the town. "Ruby, what is it?"

"The clock, Beck.." Ruby's eyes returned to the town's clock. "It's moving again."

Rebecca moved her gaze to the clock tower, a small gasp escaping her as she watched the hand tick forward. She took a step forward, her hand resting against the window pane as a small smile graced her lips.

".. Well, would you look at that?"