Jefferson glanced lovingly, but nervously, over at where Grace sat in the passenger seat beside him as they pulled into the drive of his monstrous house.

"Papa, this is your house?"

Jefferson took a deep breath and nodded.

"Yeah. Our house." A smile took over his face, a real, geniuine smile, not one of the delirious, lunatic grins he was known for.

Grace smiled sweetly back up at him as she took his hand and walked up the big steps to the humongous double front doors. He unbolted the door, took a good, long look at Grace, then swung the doors open.

"Your palace, my princess."

Her eyes creasing into a joyful smile, Grace wandered about the house. Jefferson watched her as he stood by the fireplace, a frown taking over his face.

There were so many questions.

Hard questions.

There were questions lingering on his tongue that he hated, questions that unsettled his mind and troubled him.

How had Grace felt toward her fake family?

Did she cherish those memories?

Did she still feel like Paige, instead of his Grace?

Was she angry with him in any way?

He sighed, sunk down onto a sofa and took his face in his hands.

"Papa?"

He looked up to see her standing there in front of him, her brows furrowed slightly. She took his hands in hers.

"Grace," he said. The name felt like cool silk on his tongue, lingered like angels' whispers in the air.

"Papa, don't worry! We're together again. We're going to be okay."

She smiled another one of her sweet smiles, and Jefferson took her in his lap.

"Yes, my dear Grace, we're going to be okay."

Grace studied his face.

"But there's something else, Papa. You're worried about something."

Jefferson tried to relax the frown dimples on his face as he asked, "And why do you say that?"

Grace bit her lip. "Because you're acting the same way you did before you left, Papa."

Jefferson stared at her for a moment, then looked away as tears welled up in his eyes.

Grace turned his face gently back to hers. "Papa," she said seriously. "Is it the Queen? The last time you were like this, it was about the Queen."

Jefferson nodded. "Grace, she kept me away from you in our world, and she kept me away from you in this one. She made a deal with me, and she broke it. I'm not going to just let her get away with it," he said, his voice rising, anger bubbling up inside of him.

"No," Grace said firmly. "No, Papa. We're together. We're happy. We don't need any more trouble!"

Jefferson shook his head and looked away, muttering something and brushing her words off.

"Papa, please." Her tone of voice changed and she looked her father in the eyes. "Please."

Jefferson sighed and studied his hands. Then he raised his eyes back up to hers and smiled.

"All right, my dear Grace."

Grace's face broke out into a sunny grin.

"Now, Papa, we have so much to talk about!"

"Yes, yes, twenty-eight years!"

And the two embarked in long, contented discussion. A discussion full of hard questions and tears, joy and sweet memories.