Author's Notes: I'm in good company, with there being a lot of crossover between OUAT fans, and Charmed fans. Not that that's a big surprise Charmed made it clear that fairy tales were real, even stating that every of fairy tale book: "Every copy is a manifestation of an original, an original that was entrusted to the Keeper of the fairy tales". Sound like someone in Storybrooke?

I'll be shooting for equal time split between OUAT & Charmed characters, as well as providing some context for their powers/history, etc, so those not familiar with Charmed should still be able to enjoy the ride.

Finally, I'm not a fan of FFN's crossover stories system, as it makes them harder for readers to find, so yes, this is cross-posted on purpose.


Chapter 1: Opening Moves

Henry sat at the counter in Granny's, swinging his dangling feet back and forth as he waited for Emma. She had said they could go for a walk in the woods to find a spot to rebuild their spot – this time where Regina couldn't send someone to follow them without them knowing. He especially liked the idea because it reminded him of Snow White and Red's adventures in the woods, hiding from the Queen.

He sipped at his chocolate milk, it was too hot for cocoa as summer had just arrived, as Red walked by. "You want me to top you off?" she asked, seeing his glass was half drained.

"Sure!"

"One Rapunzel's Tower, coming right up." Red pulled out a can of whipped cream, upended it, and filled the cup, creating a fluffy tower. She reached into her apron and pulled out a cinnamon shaker, dusting the top with a thick layered way that evoked a wooden roof. The final touch was a golden line of caramel down one side of the whipped cream tower. "No book today?" she asked. "Don't tell me you're giving it up for Harry Potter or something. You ask me, you stick with the classics. Besides, they're way more hardcore than some magical prep school!" She knew the other adults in his life weren't exactly fond of his fairy tale obsession, but the way she saw it, he'd grow out of it eventually. It wasn't like Storybrooke offered much in the way of adventure. Besides, she'd always pictured herself as making a great cool Aunt, but the closest thing she had to siblings were Mary Margaret, and recently, Emma. And somebody had to be the cool grownup for him.

Henry shook his head. "Emma wanted to borrow it for a while."

"How about the funny pages?" asked a male voice. August Booth sat down next to Henry, placing a folded up copy of a Boston newspaper on the counter. "Sunday edition," he added with a smile. "Full color."

Henry studied Booth's face for a moment before shrugging and taking the paper. "There any superhero comics in this?" He still didn't know what to make of the man, but he didn't get a bad feeling from him.

"They've got Spiderman, but I think 'Prince Valiant' may be more your kinda thing," replied Booth. August ordered a coffee, reading over Henry's shoulder.

Being an avid reader, Henry was done with the comics in short order, but it would still be ten minutes before Emma said she'd be there, so he started flipping through the pages, looking for something interesting. He was two thirds of the way through, still finding nothing, when a headline caught his eye. 'Finding the Magic in Life'. It was the main title for an advice column, 'Ask Phoebe'.

He read on, and as he finished the article he heard Booth read a portion aloud. "'You have to believe in the magic before you can find it in your life'. Hm. Words to live by, eh, kid?"

Henry nodded. "Too bad magic isn't real 'cept for in Storybrooke. I bet she'd have some good ideas on how to save everyone."

"Yeah," replied Booth. "Too bad…" He gaze dropped back down to the newspaper and to the photo accompanying 'Ask Phoebe'. His line of work kept him in better touch with his inner child than most adults, but sometimes you needed a real one to open your eyes to the world's possibilities. He stood up and threw a couple dollars onto the counter. "Hey, Henry, I gotta go," he said quickly, making his way to the door.

"Don't you want your newspaper?" Henry called after him.

"Nah, you keep it, kid," he replied, his answer punctuated by the jingle of the diner door shutting behind him.


Sidney Glass yawned before taking another sip from his lukewarm coffee. The whites of his caramel-brown eyes were shot through with red streaks of fatigue. It was too late, or too early, depending on how you looked at it, for any sane human being to be working. But thanks to Regina, he hadn't felt very sane for a long time. Come to think of it, he couldn't remember the last time he'd felt fully in control of his own actions. The thought faded as quickly as it had surfaced, even as something in the back of his head told him he should care more about that then he did.

The disgraced newsman rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand before settling back and refocusing on the security recording playing on his laptop. As editor in chief, this was the kind of job that should've been far beneath him, but of course, he was no longer with the Mirror. And no one else could be trusted with this delicate an operation. Regina had entrusted him with this assignment, and he would do it, even if he didn't know what this was all leading to. If his friends and colleagues knew what he was up to, he was sure they'd think him a pathetic lap dog, but he knew something they didn't. Which was everything that Regina knew, he was sure of it. Aside from her ultimate plan. And knowledge was power, especially in politics, and as long as he was her right hand man, he had the power to bring down the mayor at any time. What he wouldn't admit to himself was that he would never be able to bring himself to act against her. He loved her too much. Those feelings, in turn, brought self-loathing bubbling to the surface for reasons he could not put a finger on. There was no way she knew how he felt, because he had never let on. And knowledge was power. He may have been under her spell, but as long as she didn't know it, she couldn't use it to manipulate him, even if she wanted to.

Any further half-lucid musing were interrupted when a figure appeared on screen. The recording was from a camera mounted on a tree on the outskirts of town, facing one of the roads out of town. He hit a key to take the playback speed down from 3x to normal and watched as a helmeted man sat on his motorcycle, which he'd just wheeled to a stop onscreen, waiting beside the Welcome to Storybrooke sign. Sidney leaned forward. "And what are you up to, Mr. Booth?" The stranger had only been in town for a few weeks, but it was the longest any newcomer visitor had ever stayed in Storybrooke, to his memory, outside of Emma Swan. Unlike Ms. Swan, though, he had stayed almost entirely to himself, and certainly didn't seem to have any real purpose in the village. And that made him far more suspicious in Sidney's mind than anything Emma had done.

Not more than a minute later a single bright light appeared in woods and made its way to the roadside. It was soon apparent that it was another person on a motorcycle. Both Booth an the unknown figure glanced about, seeming to make sure they were alone before gesturing in such a way that suggested a conversation was taking place, although neither party removed his helmet. It was times like this that Sidney wished there was a way to wire a sound feed, but wind and weather made getting a quality sound recording nigh on impossible while remaining inconspicuous. Normally, he could follow at least half a conversation by reading lips, but the helmets made this an impossibility. August was apparently not one for pleasantries, as just 30 seconds in, Booth pulled an envelope from a pocket inside the lining of his leather jacket and handed it to the other fellow. Whatever was in that envelop, he obviously didn't want it going through Storybrooke's post office. With little more than an exchange of nods, the two kick-started their bikes and cruised off in opposite directions.

Sidney digitally bookmarked this section of the video. He didn't know what it was, but it was the first evidence that this writer was in Storybrooke for more than just inspiration. He printed off a couple screen captures; Regina would want to see this.


Phoebe Halliwell glanced at the clock on her office wall and groaned. 'It's only 10:30?' she thought, grumpily. It was one of those days that made her consider taking another sabbatical – or at least writing a strongly worded letter to the Muse's guild. If Cupids had one, why not Muses, she reasoned. She'd felt like she was in a bit of a rut lately, and felt like she hadn't read a question she hadn't seen before in months.

"Uh, Phoebe?" a young female voice asked from her office door. It was one of the newly hired interns, a shy, baby-faced college student who reminded Phoebe of Piper at that age. Sometimes it was hard to believe she and her sisters had been that young when they'd taken up their Charmed destiny.

"Come on in, Lindsey. What do you need?" answered Phoebe.

"Oh, nothing, I just, uh, this came for you," she held out a plain white envelope, handing it to Phoebe.

Phoebe turn the envelope face up, but it was completely unmarked, except for the words 'Phoebe Halliwell' typed with what appeared to be a typewriter. "No postage?" she asked, examining the package once more before carefully opening the side with a letter opener. It was too small to be a Unibomber kind of device, and didn't seem to contain anything but a piece of paper with a hard coin-sized knob at the center.

Lindsey shrugged. "A bike messenger just dropped it off."

Phoebe carefully slid a single piece of heavy grade paper out of the envelope. The letter was folded in threes and sealed with wax. A triquetra was stamped into the wax. "Lindsey!" Phoebe called as the small brunette turned to leave Phoebe to her business.

"Yes, Mrs. Halliwell?"

"This bike messenger… was there anything unusual about him? Did he leave a message?" asked Phoebe.

The girl shook her head. "Nothing unusual that I noticed. And he just said to give this to you immediately. But then Neil told me he needed more coffee, so I got that for him before I brought you the letter. Did I do something wrong?" she asked worriedly. "I'm sorry – it won't happen again!"

Phoebe held up a hand. "No. No. Don't worry about it." She glanced back down at her family's symbol. "It's nothing you need to concern yourself with."

"Are you sure?" she asked, nervously rubbing her right hand along her left arm.

Phoebe nodded. "Really. Don't. It's fine – I promise."

Lindsey nodded uncertainly. "Can I get you anything? Coffee, or tea, or something?"

"How about, just get back to your job, okay?" she said with a reassuring smile. "Okay?"

"If you say so…" She turned to leave but stopped to add a "Ma'am" before making her way out.

"I told, just 'Phoebe!'" she called after the young woman.

"Yes, Ma'am –er, Phoebe!"

Phoebe smiled, but quickly sighed when she looked back down at the letter. Whatever it was, she had a feeling she was about to step out of work early today. Thankfully, in the years since the vanquishing the Triad, her family emergencies had been reduced to an almost normal rate of frequency. She gripped the letter opener firmly and slid it under the wax seal. But the moment the wax popped off she was hit with five megaton sized vision.

A quaint road sign read Welcome to Storybrooke, Maine. A young boy, no older than 11, flipped through a large gilded book with colorful, life-like illustrations. The boy, sitting on a wooden play castle with a blonde woman. 'They're fairytale characters, cursed to live here?' He smiles at her.'You're going to break the curse, Emma,' he says. There's a sadness and love in the blonde woman's eyes. Vengence, anger, and carefully veiled pain flash from another set of eyes – those of an olive-skinned brunette. 'He's my son,' she practically growls. 'He's my son too,' answers the blonde.

The pages of the boy's book flip past – a drawing of a porcelain-skinned princess with black locks morphs into a real women, who looks quite the same, but a short boy cut. A handsome prince becomes an equally dashing man. A woman in a red cloak with a basket of muffins becomes a hip waitress setting down a stack of pancakes. A genie becomes a reporter. A twisted, gremlin-like man becomes a devious shopkeep. And so it goes, faster and faster, until almost a blur, until the barrage quite suddenly stops on a scene of a gorgeously decorated ballroom, the dark woman standing at the center. The painted scene comes to life and the woman, queen, vows to punish them all with dark magic. The kingdom is swallowed by a storm of what can only be the darkest of magic. The princess and prince huddle together in bed with a newborn, weeping. The prince fights his way to a wooden wardrobe, and places the baby inside, wrapped only in a blanket which read 'Emma'. The dark storm engulfs the entire kingdom.

The storm parts, and the village of Storybrooke reappears as a man on a motorcycle rolls into town. 'I'm August W. Booth.' The blonde and Booth are at a well. 'Say what you want about me – I always tell the truth.' The blonde scoffs. 'Magic? You sound like Henry.' 'Smart kid. So, this legend says that if you drink from the well, something that you've lost will return to you.' The young boy sits at a counter with the man.'I'm a writer.' The boy looks at skeptically. 'What are you really doing here?''Stuff. Good luck with your stories.'

Phoebe inhaled sharply as she came back to reality. 'What the hell was that?' she thought. Usually her visions were clearer, or at least more succinct. But for all she saw, she wasn't quite sure was it was all about. But it was something big. And evil. She looked back down at the letter and slowly opened it. It was a short note, which seemed to have been written with an old typewriter.

Dear Phoebe,

If I know my stuff, and if anyone does, I do, then once you broke the seal, you should have seen why I'm writing you. I apologize for the crypticness, but I can't risk writing any details down. There are eyes and ears everywhere in this little village, but what I'm here to do is too important to risk trying to leave. I know I'm a stranger to you (of course, I could say that of everyone, but I'll tell you about that later), and you have no reason to trust me, but I'm hoping I can count on your help. I know who you and your sisters are, what you can do, and what you stand for. If you care for your children's futures, and I know you do, you'll come as quickly as possible.

I must should warn you, though, this won't be an afternoon soiree. I don't know exactly how long this will take, but this won't be finished in just a day or two. I must also ask three things of you, if we're to succeed: arrive just outside the town's limits, or risk being detected; bring your book, and you and your sisters must come alone. You can find me at Granny's . I'll explain everything there.

And please, hurry, there's no time to waste.

August Booth

Phoebe sighed. It looked like she'd be taking that sabbatical after all. Who knew? Maybe it would be just what she needed. She leaned over and hit intercom button on her desk's landline phone. "Lindsey? Get me Elise on the line."


An hour later, she and her sisters were in the attic, like so many times before, gathered around the family book of magic, the Book of Shadows. Phoebe had just gotten through explaining what she'd seen in her vision, and letting them go over the letter.

Piper crossed her arms. "And you're certain this isn't some kind of a trap? I mean, he explicitly states to leave our family behind, and bring the book."

Phoebe shrugged. "Pretty sure. I mean, I didn't get a bad vibe from the guy in my vision."

"But he obviously did something the guarantee that you received that vision. And we all know it's possible to plant a purposely misleading one. We've done it before," replied Piper.

"Either way, something bad is going down. Something big," said Paige.

"And bad," added Phoebe. "Like, tip the balance of good and evil kind of bad. I know what I felt. And one hell of an evil witch at the center of it."

Piper threw up her hands. "Ok, okay. But if I end up in some ridiculous Renaissance Faire outfit, you're owing me a year of on-demand babysitting duty."

"And what do I get if there are no silly costumes?"

"You'll still only owe me that month of babysitting duty you still owe me for the gnome fiasco!" replied Piper.

"Alright! Well, I'm afraid this cosmic taxi will need to check in with her husband and let him know what's going on, and tell the Elders I'll be off incommunicado, before I can take us to Maine," said Paige.

"Right," said Piper with a nod. "Phoebe and I will get our affairs in order, and we can leave this afternoon, after lunch. Agreed?" Her sisters nodded in affirmation and the three went their separate ways to get things situated so that they could be gone for a few days without coming home to a complete disaster.

A late lunch finished, and goodbyes said to the children, the Charmed Ones gathered once more in the attic, this time with their husbands. Piper gave Leo a quick peck. "You promise you're not letting the kids leave magic school until we're back?"

"Of course, honey."

She narrowed her eyes as his. "Even if Wyatt throws a fit about missing his karate class?"

Leo chuckled and made a cross over his heart. "I promise. Now don't worry. That's my job." He had been a powerless mortal for almost six years now, but staying behind while they went off into danger still wasn't any easier. He wasn't looking forward to the day his own children were the ones riding off into battle, either, but took comfort in the fact that, for now, he could still protect them.

"I promise, not matter what, that if any of the kids are in danger I'll come to get you girls immediately," said Coop, Phoebe's cupid husband. He was the only adult in the family, outside the sisters, that had any powers, and could sense his wife's whereabouts no matter the distance. It had come in handy for than once over the years, and made him a valuable asset when the mortals in the family had to hide for their own protection.

"Now, get out of here," added Paige's husband Henry. "The sooner you leave, the sooner we get you all back, right?" As the husband to the only sister still engaged in magical happenstances every day, providing guidance and protection to the forces of good magic, he'd gotten used to her putting herself in danger. He figured it was like being married to a cop. It didn't mean he wasn't scared she'd get hurt, but he'd learned how to not dwell on the worry.

"We'll try and check in," said Piper.

"But no promises," added Paige.

"Coop will be able to sense if anything is wrong with Phoebe, or if she needs anything. You guys just trust your magical instincts, and concentrate of getting home safe, okay?" said Leo. The three women nodded and joined hands. "And good luck," he added.

Piper smirked. " Back at ya. I just remembered – Chris has a dentist's appointment tomorrow. You're gonna need all the luck you can get."

Leo grimaced. "Paige, you don't remember the recipe to that body switching spell you made was, do?"

The group laughed. "Sorry, Leo," said Paige.

He shrugged. "Hey, worth a shot, right?"

"I don't envy you heading into yet another death-defying battle," said Henry. "Or the sister's duties either," he finished with a twinkle in his eye, to which everyone laughed.

"Alright everybody, time to go! This witch ain't vanquishing herself!" announced Piper as she took Paige's hand. Phoebe tucked the Book of Shadows under one arm and took Paige's other hand. The men waved goodbye as the three sisters dissolved into a million tiny orbs of light, which quickly disappeared themselves.

Moments later, on the other side of the continent, a duplicate set of glowing lights appeared in the trees, just aside from the road, in Maine. Not ten feet away stood the 'Welcome to Storybrooke' sign. Paige had looked up their destination before leaving, having never been there before, and no charge to focus on. When the sisters had reformed, they glanced about, taking in their surroundings. "Who put out the lights?" asked Paige, aloud. The sky was a dark blue, and the red haze of sunset still glowed in the sky, but it especially dark under the forest's coverage.

"They're three hours ahead of us on the east coast, remember," replied Phoebe. "So the sun has already set."

Paige rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah. I do have charges I protect all across the globe, remember? Besides, I have just the thing." With a wave of her hand of light appeared, floating above the women's heads. "There. All better."

"Paige!" exclaimed Piper. "Are you crazy? Put those out before someone sees us!"

"Who's gonna see us? We're in the middle of the woods."

"Yeah, outside of a town that we were specifically told to be discreet about entering," said Piper.

"It's not like we're in real public, with like, security cameras and stuff. Hell, there probably aren't any people within miles of us."

At this a woman's voice echoed through the trees. "HENRY!"

Paige cocked her head and the orbs of light disappeared immediately. "Henry?"

"No one for miles, huh?" said Piper in a teasing tone.

"Can we save the 'I told you so's' for later?" replied Paige.

Another frantic cry rang out in the forest, this time that of a young boy. "EMMA!" At this, the three sisters took off in the direction of the screaming.

They heard three gunshots ring out. "Henry! Henry?" called the woman's voice. "I scared it away! Where are you?"

"Over here," cried Henry, and the sisters came skidding to a halt as they pinpointed the voice as coming from the trees overhead. "I'm alri-" he was interrupted by a thunderous snapping of wood and Paige suddenly saw a boy falling from the sky, plummeting like a rock to the ground below, head first.

"Kid!" she cried, and he dematerialized in orbs, only to reappear in her arms. A moment later there was the sound of splintering wood, shattering glass, and the metallic thump of denting steel. Piper and Phoebe spun around towards the noise, to see Paige gently placing the boy on his feet, and a VW bug that looked like it had gotten on the bad side of a very angry Tree Ent.

Moments later a woman with long blonde hair, dressed in a leather coat, jeans, and black leather boots arrived, halting for only a moment as she saw the unexpected strangers before she was tackled by a relieved Henry. She dropped to one knee and wrapped her arms around the boy "Jesus, Henry, you scared the hell out of me!" She ended the embrace and moved her hands to his shoulders, looking him in the eye. "Are you alright?"

Henry nodded. "Oh, yeah, I'm fine! They saved me!" he pointed at the three women standing next to Emma's destroyed vehicle.

Emma's eyes widened at the sight, but she only let herself be distracted for a second before turning her attention back to the women. "Thank you – I mean, really. I don't know what would've happened if you hadn't been here…"

"No problem," replied Paige, used to hearing such utterances thanks to her whitelighter duties. "Glad we could help."

"Right. And I don't mean to be rude, because I truly am grateful, but who are you people, and why are you out in the middle of the woods?" said Emma. She may not have believed Henry's stories, but lately it had become clear that something was rotten in Storybrooke, and it didn't pay to trust blindly.

Piper raised an eyebrow. "We could ask you the same thing," she replied sarcastically.

Emma drew herself back to her feet and pushed aside he part of her coat obscuring her badge. "Sheriff of Storybrooke."

"Emma," said Phoebe suddenly, as she realized these were the woman and small boy from her vision.

"Emma? You mean the one from your…?" asked Paige.

Phoebe nodded. "Yep. That's the one."

Emma narrowed her eyes at the three strange women. "The one from your what? And who are you people?"

"Ask Phoebe!" exclaimed Henry as he recognized the middle sister.

"Who's Phoebe?" Emma asked Henry.

"That would be me."

"Should that mean something?" asked Emma.

"It means, she's here to help! Look!" He pulled a folded up square of newspaper from his pocket. "See? It says so right there. 'She has all the answers!' You're here to help break the curse, right?"

Emma took the clipping and immediately knew why Henry had fixated on it. Magic, right there in the headline. But clearly metaphorical, she concluded as she scanned the text. She suppressed a sigh, hoping that these women weren't here because Henry had asked them for help. At the very least, she could rest assured that they weren't crazy people simply wandering the woods.

Phoebe nodded and smiled. "That we are!"

'Or not…' thought Emma. 'Aren't licensed psychologists supposed to be sane?' She crossed her arms, making sure it was clear there would be no funny business. "Look, I don't know what Henry told you, but if we could speak in private, and I could explain some things to you…"

"Henry didn't contact us," replied Phoebe.

"Then why are you out here?" asked Emma, skeptically. "And who did?"

"We were told to start here," replied Piper. "By an August Booth."

'Booth?' she thought. 'Why in the hell would he be inviting an advice columnist to Storybrooke? And who does he think he is, involving my kid?'

Phoebe raised her hands in supplication. "Hey, look, I can sense you're confused and a little pissed off here, but we probably know as much about what's going on as you do! Or why he's involving your son!"

Emma studied the woman's face. She wasn't lying, that much she could tell – so whatever was going on she believed in what she was saying. "Ok, look, I don't think you people really know what you're getting into, but this town is-" A realization struck her. "How did you know he's my son?"

"Would you believe… magic?" said Paige.

"Paige…" warned Piper.

"What? Obviously the kid knows it's real – why wouldn't she?" shot back Paige.

That was it. Whatever was going on here, these women really believed in magic, and whether they were dangerous or not, Henry didn't need another adult feeding into his fantasies. She'd entertained them for a few days after the psycho Jefferson had disappeared, but came to her senses. After all, if magic was real, then that would mean Regina was really an evil witch in the literal sense. She was certainly that in the figurative way. And that meant everything else that Henry said was true. That she'd found her family. That she was a princess. That Graham's death was her fault. That If she'd simply helped him find – 'NO.' That was too much. Too ridiculous. Too painful. She swallowed hard. "Look ladies. I don't care if you're famous, or whatever. I don't care what you believe – magic crystals, chakras, past lives, the Easter Bunny, whatever. But you don't take my kid down the rabbit hole with you. Magic isn't real. Thank you for saving him, but I need to call a tow truck, and you need to go. Now."

"But-" began Phoebe.

"I said, now." They all recognized that momma bear growl, having heard it in their sister's voices before, but only Piper had been on the other side of the conversation enough times to know how to get her say. Steamroll over it.

"Ok, look," began Piper forcefully." I'm a mom too, and believe you me, I know what it's like to worry about your kid and bad influences. And there's nothing I want more than to get back to my own children, but magic is real, and the first step toward getting rid of us is you realizing that. So how's about you give us one chance to prove that it's all real. Right here. Right now. We win, you help us. If we fail, we leave Storybrooke, never to return! Deal?" She put her hands on her hips.

"Piper!" hissed Phoebe. She knew from personal experience that people often needed more than one demonstration before they believed. And the consequence of keep up their end of the deal, should Piper lose, had dire, if unknown, circumstances.

Emma extended a hand, confident that she'd already won. "Deal. " She and Piper shook hands, sealing the genlewoman's agreement. "So, what, you gonna pull a rabbit out of a hat?"

Piper huffed smugly. "How about I just save you the cost of a tow truck?" Phoebe and Paige exchanged glancing as they realized what she was up to.

"You're gonna have to pull a lot of quarters from behind my ears before you can pay for that!" Henry watched on excitedly awaiting his first real look at magic.

"Not exactly what I had in mind. Now, I don't need you smoke and mirrors or something, so just touch the car. Inspect the inside, yadda yadda yadda."

Emma stepped up to the vehicle, finding it solid. It looked like her car. The upholstery was worn in the right spots. And a photo booth strip of pictures of her and Henry lay impaled on a twig. She wasn't one for material things, usually, but this was different. She began to reach in to retrieve the one of a kind object.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Don't take anything out!" warned Piper.

"It's a pictures of me and the kid. I don't need you damaged them even more with some parlor trick," replied Emma.

"Trust me," said Piper.

Emma gave her a sardonic look. "Wasn't the whole point here that I could verify that this is really my vehicle and not just some set up?"

Piper nodded. "Right. Ok, fine, check it, but put it back when you're done. But really, I promise, you'll be glad you left it in the car."

Emma closely examined the photo. She didn't know what she was looking for, but she examined it thoroughly before placing it back in the vehicle. "You better not make me regret this."

"You won't" replied Paige lightly. "You should probably step back now, though. Don't wanna get caught it the magical crossfire, so to speak."

Emma stepped back, next to Henry. "Well?"

Piper looked at her youngest sister. "Paige?"

Paige nodded and cried out, "tree branch!" and the offending wooden limb disappeared like something out of Star Trek.

Piper turned back to the car. "Let the object of objection become but a dream, as I cause this sight be unseen." With that, the car was engulfed in sparkling lights for just a moment, and when the lights cleared there was her VW, good as new, and the giant tree branch gone.

"Awesome!" exclaimed Henry.

Emma stepped cautiously back up to the car. Supposedly, her car. All the tell-tale natural wear and tear where present in all the right places but I true con artist could recreate almost anything. Why they'd want to recreate her VW she couldn't say. But then there was the picture. She picked up the rectangular strip of photos from it's dashboard mounting place. It couldn't be possible. At least she didn't think so. She suddenly noticed hand trembling and she flipped it over. There, the same message, in Henry's unmistakable chicken scratch, also smudged in all the same places from him not having enough patience to let the ink dry before handling it again. "What… what did you…?" She was at a loss for words as she found herself, for the second time in a week, confronted with something she couldn't explain.

"We told you," replied Paige. "Magic."

"There has to be another explanation…" said Emma, her mind still following itself into a pretzel trying to rationalize what she just saw. "Magic?" The sisters nodded and all Emma could think was that the Occam's Razor method of deduction seem so ludicrous as right then.

"Magic," replied Piper simply. "Now, how about a lift into town. You did agree to help us."

Emma ran a hand through her hair, still dumbfounded, and fumbled in her pants pocket for her keys. The four adults, and Henry, soon squeezed themselves into the compact vehicle. Emma turned the key, starting the vehicle up and they took off down the road into Storybrooke at a leisurely pace that was unusual for Emma. But her brain was still sorting itself, adjusting to her whole world being turned on its ear, and anything faster seemed positively breakneck to her at the moment.

She glanced up at her rearview mirror and saw Henry happily conversing with that Phoebe woman while flipping through the heavy tome the other sister had been carrying, but not a word of it was getting through her overloaded senses. Was it another book of fairytales, or was it a book of spells? "Henry?" she asked, finally. "I guess you were right about the whole magic thing after all… I guess that means I owe you Sundae, huh, kid?" to which he nodded. Her tone was more pulled together and lighter than she felt, which was no small feat. She knew she still wasn't ready to believe in the fairy tales, and everything that went with it, but there was no use denying it. Magic was real.

'Shit'.


Regina snapped upright suddenly, pen still poised mid-signature on some official document. She sat, still as a statue, except for her eyes darting about. She sensed something. Something magical. Something magical and not of Storybrooke. It was magic that reeked of two things: goodness, and this world – a world that was supposed to not have magic. It was in her kingdom. And it was powerful.