Okay, first off I just want to say how much fun it was writing this fic. It was originally going to be Clay and Emma bonding over horses, but then my friend introduced me to Once Upon a Time. I'm kind of hooked right now. Thank Science for Hulu. The main character in which is a badass named Emma. Needless to say, armed with an idea, a plucky main character, and an incredibly snarky fairy godmother, I got straight to work. (Quick warning though, I'm trying to kick the caffeine habit, so if anything seems incredibly weird, just let me know.) I apologize in advance if Emma is incredibly OOC. I tried, but I get the sneaking suspicion that I screwed up a couple of places here and there. Anywho, Spady, I hope you like this. :)

Disclaimer: I'm not even sure what time it is here. Late enough that I don't feel like making a House or CSI joke.

Cinderemma

Once upon a time, in a land far away, there was a city. Like most cities back then it was populated with crooked merchants selling "magic beans" to foolish farm boys, plucky orphans getting dragged into adventure by some long lost relative, jerk noblemen getting turned into frogs to teach them a lesson, and widowers with children. There were so many of the latter, in fact, that there was an Evil Stepmothers' Guild that met every Thursday to play polo.

There was one such widower with a daughter making use of the guild. They, however, chose not to participate in the bimonthly stepfamily polo picnic. He was otherwise a fairly nondescript man, so we'll not bother with him. All you really need to know is that he died in an accident involving the family butler, a Pembroke Welsh Corgi, and a potato. As was traditional, his daughter Emma was quickly converted into the family maid by the stepmother and her stepsisters.

The girl was by far more interesting than her father, so she does deserve some describing. She was an intelligent girl, nice enough, and rather pretty in her own way. She could at times be a bit random and seemed to occasionally be lost in her own world (for example, she kept insisting that said stepfamily was copying something called "Harry Potter" by having her live in a cupboard under the stair and then later said that the cupboard was laziness on the part of the author. Whatever that means.) She wasn't exactly happy with her lot in life, but so long as her stepfamily left her more or less alone, then things were kept under control.

Now, every year there was a ball at the palace and every family with the slightest hint of noble blood was invited. The year Emma turned seventeen, the ball was held not only as an annual celebration, but as a way to find a girl for the prince to marry. Naturally, that sent her stepsisters into a frenzy, trying on all the latest fashions in the theory that boys actually notice clothes. She was never allowed to go anyway so she didn't bother facing the crowds at the dress makers.

Preparations for the ball are generally just shopping lists, so it would probably be best to just skip them. So, to make a long story short, the Evil Stepmother and the stepsisters went off to the ball while Emma stayed home to theoretically clean the upstairs bedrooms. In reality, she was happy to have the house to herself for the night and was planning to spend a relaxing night at home.

She went down to the kitchen, made herself a cup of hot chocolate and settled down on a sofa with her book. She had gotten about twenty pages in when she heard a quiet "tisk-tisk" noise. She jumped up and slammed her book shut, her hair standing on end, afraid that her stepfamily had come back and caught her not cleaning the upstairs bedroom. However, when she looked up, the strangest sight met her eyes.

Standing in the doorway, looking positively bored with herself, was an olive skinned woman wearing a storm gray dress. Her blue-gray eyes swept across the sitting room, taking in every detail.

"You know, the guidebook said that you were supposed to be moping about missing the ball," she said, taking a couple steps forwards with the easy grace of a large cat.

"Who are you?" she asked, standing up and locking eyes with the strange woman.

"Isn't it obvious?" she said, clearly expecting an answer.

"Well I never got that letter from Hogwarts, so I'm going to say you're not Professor McGonagall," she said. The woman facepalmed.

"Don't kids these days know anything? I'm your fairy godmother, here to rescue you from a night of boredom and whisk you away to the ball to meet your prince," she said, making a very good attempt to hide the notecard she was reading off of.

"And I'm the Queen of Sheba," she said. It seemed slightly more likely that she was a burglar than a fairy. She didn't look like any fairy godmother she'd seen in a book.

"That's my line," she said.

"Whose line is it anyway?" she replied.

"Never mind that Ella…"

"Emma."

"Whatever. I'm your fairy godmother and you are going to the ball and you are going to meet the prince," she said.

"I don't believe you. Fairy godmothers are supposed to be little old ladies with wands and wings, you don't exactly look like a little old lady. Besides, you probably got in through an open window or something," she said, an idea forming in her head.

"I'm a sorceress on probation. Fairy godparenting is the only job I can get right now. Wands are last century and wings clash with my dress," the woman said. She quirked an eyebrow and didn't respond. "Fine. Let's see…proving that I am your fairy godmother…" She thought for a moment, before changing into a short, pink haired woman with wings and a little crown. "Happy?"

"I don't believe you. You said yourself you're an out of work sorceress. Transformations should go with the territory," she replied. She was a little afraid of the fairy across the room from her, but if she succeeded, she would be in the clear for tonight.

"Fine. How do I prove this so I can get my paycheck?" she said, shifting back into human form.

"There are a couple of rooms upstairs…but no. I don't think you can do that. It'd be far too much work," she said.

"Too much work?" the woman said, a dangerous light coming into her blue eyes. "Too much work? I'm lazy, but not that much." She snapped her fingers and gave a smug grin. "There. Clean." Then the grin left her face. "Well played."

"Well sorceresses are notoriously vain," she said. "So, if you're my fairy godmother, do I get wishes or something?"

"No. That's genies. I give you a makeover and send you to the ball and you meet the prince. As per the fairy godmother guidebook." She pulled a champagne colored book out of thin air. The title said "Fairy Godmothering for Amoral Sorceresses."

"Well, I'm kind of happy to have the first night to myself in like forever. I wanted the time to read and draw and stuff," she explained. It would have been nice to go the ball, but it just seemed like another over the top party. Kind of like those silly polo picnics she always heard her stepmother talking about.

The sorceress sighed. "The guidebook never covered this situation. Tell you what Ella…"

"Emma"

"Whatever. You go to the ball tonight, and I will make sure your chores are done for the next week and that you get another night to yourself next weekend." A lucrative offer. A very lucrative offer. The sorceress held out a contract and a pen, it didn't take very long for her to decide what to do with it.

"That's settled then. Now, the guidebook says that you're supposed to have singing mice that help with your chores, but that's just ridiculous so we're going to have to get you horses and footmen some other way. I think I saw some spider webs on my way in…" she trailed off, walking towards the door and snagging a couple of webs from the corners that Emma couldn't quite reach.

She followed the woman into the garden, still slightly unsure of what she was doing. "Now, what do you have for vegetables?"

"There's gotta be a better way to do this," she muttered under her breath. The whole "Fairy Godmother Handbook" thing was getting out of hand. "Wouldn't something less, I don't know, fragile and easily bruised as vegetables work better? I think we have a pony cart somewhere. You could fix it up, make it look pretty, and stuff."

"I never could stand getting the pumpkin guts out of the carriage anyway," she said with an expression on her face that could only be described as slightly less apathetic. With a wave of her hand, the pony cart appeared before them for a split second before transforming into a beautiful green and cream carriage. Another wave of the hands and the spiders became four fine light brown and white paint horses. "And a driver…" she pulled a lizard off of a tree and with a snap of her fingers he became a coachman dressed in silk livery.

"Come on! There was a whole bag of cookies in top of the tree," he said, reluctantly climbing up to the driver's seat. She was wondering where she left the cookies the other day.

"They'll be plenty of cookies where you're going," she said, rolling her eyes. "And now for you…" She turned to Emma now, there was something she decidedly disliked about having no input as to her outfit. "Let's see, I think I saw something the other day that would look good on you…" Another wave of her hands and Emma's clothes turned from rags into an emerald silk gown.

She looked at herself in the mirror the sorceress summoned, her short, brown hair was held out of her face with some jade shamrock clips, and while there was a little makeup applied, it was nothing drastic. While it was certainly weird, she sort of liked the way she looked.

"Now, I could do so much more with your hair if you would only let me lengthen it," the sorceress said. She bit her lip. She liked her hair just fine the way it was. "But I get the sneaking suspicion that you won't be happy with me if I do. Now, to explain the rules. Unless you want me to mess with you face, no talking to the step family. Pinkie out when sipping tea. Do not, I repeat, do not, use the oyster fork for mussels should they be served. Laugh at the prince's jokes, even though every one of them will be terrible. And what am I forgetting…Right! Curfew's at midnight so be back by then or there will be consequences. Of the unpleasant, magic getting reversed sort of variety."

She was about to agree when she noticed there was something missing. "You're still forgetting something."

"Right! It's going to be chilly tonight. You need a coat. How silly of me to have forgotten," she said, another hand wave and a warm coat enveloped her body despite the fact that it wasn't a cool night to begin with. It did have deep pockets though. Just perfect for storing the book she'd carried with her outside.

"Erm…not exactly," she said, showing her fairy godmother her still bare feet. "The stories always have glass slippers."

"That's just ridiculous. Glass isn't a good material for shoes. Just think about how easily they'd shatter and that would hurt your feet. And that's terrible," she said, leafing through the handbook yet again. "Are you kidding me! What ingrate put this in the handbook? Really. A pair of green satin pumps would work so much better."

"Green satin pumps?" she said, slightly confused.

"Okay fine. Have it your way," she said, flicking her hands and making the said shoes appear on her feet. "Here's your invitation, don't forget, curfew's at midnight, and have fun Ella."

"Emma."

"The handbook says your name is either Ella or Timmy. You look like more of an Ella." With that, the fairy vanished and left her to go to the ball. The ride was boring, but it gave her an opportunity to get a few more pages into her book before arriving at the palace.

She entered the party, no one really made a fuss. She waited in line to greet the prince, standing next to the one girl who looked as uncomfortable here as she did. She introduced herself as Kimiko and they found that they got along well enough. She evidently knew the prince from just being friends and she felt weird about standing in line to meet him.

"Let's see, short, reddish hair, shamrocks…you're a leprechaun right? Does that mean I get three wishes for meeting you?" the prince said upon meeting her. Both Kimiko and the blond boy next to the prince facepalmed upon hearing this. From the way his bright green eyes shone with good natured humor, this was one of the bad jokes her fairy godmother mentioned.

She gave a slight laugh and replied, "I think genies grant wishes. The author picked out the wrong fairytale for that." The prince gave her a funny look, but the boy next to him giggled a little. He was kind of cute in his own way, slightly shaggy blond hair flopping over blue eyes, and looking just slightly awkward in a suit. The other boy, this one looking vaguely like a cheese snack, just looked confused.

"Pleasure to meet you Miss…"

"Emma." If only she had a nickel for each time she said her name tonight. She would have four nickels.

"Charmed," he said, only half paying attention. He was busy making puppy dog eyes at Kimiko. "I'm sure you know who I am and these are my friends Clay and Omi. On the behalf of my family I welcome you to the palace this evening." Introductions are always boring and awkward, and quite frankly rather repetitive, so it would probably be best to skip ahead.

So, Emma sat on the terrace with a hot chocolate, reading her book, and listening to the music. She'd hung around with Kimiko and her friend Keiko for a while, but Keiko had gotten dragged away by her mother because apparently she was still grounded and Kimiko had gotten pulled onto the dance floor by the prince and they hadn't let go of each other since. She was about to get to the really good part when she heard someone sit down on the railing next to her.

"What 'cha doin' out here?" The asker was more curious than accusatory.

"Probably peeving my fairy godmother," she said, folding the corner of the page down and closing the book. Clay gave her a look that said "I can't decide if that's cute or slightly weird."

"Not your scene huh?" he said, reaching up as if to fiddle with a non-existent hat brim. "Not mine either. It's always so stuffy and boring. Kinda just here to keep Rai from causing a repeat of the Zebra Incident. And I thought Bibitus Bobitus Booious was a naturally peaceful and kind species."

"That's what I thought. Turns out it's a job rather than a species," she said. "And mine conveniently loves red tape and sarcasm."

"That's unfortunate," he said. "Kinda reminds me of this one time when my cousin Skeeter tried to wrestle a honey badger. They are not as sweet as their name implies."

"But they're so cute."

"Until you see them swallow a rattle snake whole."

"Especially when you see them swallow a rattle snake whole." They both laughed a bit at the last part because, as everyone knows, honey badgers are infinitely cuter when getting released in a basement karaoke party, leading the ensuing of unfortunate events.

"So, what are you readin'?" he asked, looking at the book.

"Professor Terrible's Chant-Along Novel," she said, pointing out the title. Upon hearing and seeing this, his eyes lit up.

"You like Professor Terrible? Well I'll be a donkey's knee!"

"Coolest thing since sliceable bread. Which really makes me think about what people thought was cool before they could slice their bread," she said, trailing off on a bread related tangent.

"Personally, I just like bread. Especially with some cheese and a little bacon. Amazing. Have ya ever tried it?"

"Nope. But that does sound kinda awesome. Much better than the tossed salads and scrambled eggs over there," she said, gesturing to the food table.

"Yeah, I don't know what to do with those tossed salads and scrambled eggs," he said.

"I don't either, but I think that this author needs to stop using that joke," she said. It was getting rather boring.

"What?" he said, again giving her the "I can't decide if that's cute or weird" look.

"Never mind," she said. "The view from up here is fantastic." The terrace overlooked the gardens, the glass lamps casting pools of light over the flower beds and hedges. Pale gray cobblestone paths wound around crystal clear fountains and marble statues of long forgotten gods. You could see bits of the city beyond over the castle ramparts, the lights in the buildings glittering like stars beneath a blue velvet sky.

"Yeah. You'll like it even more when they light off the fireworks." He made like he was going to fiddle with a hat again.

"You have no idea how much that makes me want to have brought my sketch book," she said, already planning to draw it on one of her promised free nights. "I keep seeing them every year, but never from up close."

"Well Emma, this year's your chance," he said.

"How did you remember my name?" As nice as it would have been to earn another nickel, making for a total of five nickels, it was better still to know that someone remembered her.

"You were the first person all night to give a good comeback to one of Rai's stupid jokes," he said. Was it just her, or did he look like he was blushing a bit?

"Are they all like that?" she said, before really thinking about it. It generally didn't pay to offend a prince. "Don't tell him I said that."

"Believe me, Kimiko, Omi, and I have been tellin' him that for years. He listens about as much as a deaf cactus," he said, reassuring her.

"Aren't all cactus's deaf?" she said.

"Not in the Kingdom of Nowhere. And they're nasty to boot," he replied, looking vaguely displeased by the memory of the incident.

"That sounds cool in the worst possible way," she said.

"Aside from the filthy mouths, wonderful specimens of prickly pear cacti. It was real pretty out there. I think you'd have liked it," he said. Now, there was no question about it. He was blushing. "Um, Kimiko was planning for a group hang out in the town center tomorrow. Would you like to join in?"

Now it was her turn to turn bright red. It took her a few moments of forgetting exactly how to those sounds went together to form a word to squeak out, "Yeah. Totally," she said, grinning like an idiot. Just as she said that, the clock struck eleven thirty.

The oddly specific chimes reminded her of her fairy godmother's words, "Do not, I repeat, do not use an oyster fork for mussels should they be served." Which made her remember her midnight curfew.

"Shit. I've got to go. I'll meet you guys at the fountain tomorrow," she said, bolting out of there. She didn't notice that in her rush she left her book on the railing. Even with all the rushing, she barely made it home before the magic wore off.

The next morning, she was prevented from going off and meeting Clay and the rest of those wacky palace people by her chores. She had tried once or twice to get out of cleaning the fireplace, but her stepmother would be having none of that. Apparently she didn't believe that she had plans and was saying that she was going out to meet friends as an excuse to get out of dusting cinders.

Then she got an idea. It would take soap to finish cleaning the fireplace properly, and should the soap mysteriously go missing she would have to go to the market for more. The said soap quickly found itself shoved into her cupboard under the stairs and she found herself on her way to the market.

Although her quest to find soap was stopped at the door. Which she opened into the face of one Clay Bailey.

"Oh my god. I'm so sorry. I didn't see you and I was in a rush to get to the fountain and…" she trailed off apologizing for the door to the face maneuver she performed.

"Not a problem. Accidents happen," he said, picking up his hat and replacing it on his head.

"Still," she said. Obviously his face was a bit tougher than she'd expected. "How did you know where I live anyway? You just go around the neighborhood running into doors?"

"You left your book at the palace. You wrote, "If lost, please return to Emma O'Reiley" and your address. I was goin' to give it back to you at the fountain, but you never showed up so I figured that I'd do it in person," he said. "Riding around between houses is for lost shoes anyway."

"I was on my way right now," she said, attempting to rub some of the cinders off her face. "Chores and all ya know." Chores which were now the problem of her Bibitus Bobitus Booious as per their contract.

"Ya need any help finishing up?" he asked.

"Thanks, but I think I'm all set here," she said. "Now, let's get going while the going's good." Now, while I can't promise that everybody lived perfectly happily ever after, I have it on rather good authority that these two odd ducks were quite happy with the ending.

Okay, so...what did you think? Just how badly did I screw up? Minerva will be your fairy godmother for a day if you review...