Beneath the cloak of night and under the darkness of an arching bridge, Jefferson could see that Regina was troubled. The clicking of her pacing heels against the pavement was a dead giveaway. Jefferson silently fumed. He didn't care about the young Queen's troubles. He had troubles of his own, such as: why he was called upon in secret in the dead of night as if he were a pauper, or some other unstylish person. Jefferson pursed his lips as he approached the path that Regina was currently wearing into the ground.
"I don't think you quite grasp the concept of a Royal Passport," he commented with no small amount of sass, "Sneaking into your kingdom at night isn't what I had in mind."
Regina's pacing halted and she fixed him with an impatient look.
"Well, this isn't my kingdom, is it?" she snapped back at him.
Jefferson tugged uncomfortably at his cravat, and then switched into business-man mode, sporting a dashing smile.
"So, I take it you're in the market for a new kingdom. Well—"
"No. I want this kingdom," Regina interrupted, "And you're going to help me. That's why I've called upon you, my dear Jefferson. I need you to find something for me."
A proud smile curved-up Jefferson's lips.
"And find it I shall, but it will come at a price," he warned and his smile quickly turned into a scowl, "A price higher than your ineffective Royal Passport."
Regina ignored his mocking tone and waved-off his mention of payment all together.
"Whatever the price—it's yours. Now tell me," she said as she batted her eyes up at him, "What do you know of Agrabah?"
