WARNING; this is a crossover of Thumbelina and a Midsummer Night's Dream. Many events are out of order and POVs may switch. The 1st chapter is kinda blah but bare with me. I will also be hinting at some of my characters from my 1st OUAT Fic that be found on Deviantart . starting with episode 1 season 1

It was a fair mid spring night when Queen Hipolyta's cries of pain pierced the Athenian night air. The long awaited heir was to enter the world. Hipolyta was a fair lady of raven hair and haunting eyes the color of brown earth. Once a warrior princess and won in battle by Doke Theseus.

"One more push milady!" Hermia the handmaiden to Hipolyta coaxed, nodding to her friend Helena to prepare herself for more hand squeezing from her majesty.

Helena returned the gesture, taking the shoulder of Hiipolyta as an extra comfort to the lady in agony. "You are doing so well my lady! So very well."

Hipolyta managed a small grin before another and final scream escaped her lips; curling up into almost a ball she bared herself into Helena until...

"tis a boy! Tis a boy!" Hermia cried with the whaling new arrival in her arms. Helena quickly gave her queen a congratulating embrace as Hermia cleaned the babe and brought him to his mother's outstretched arms.

"Angelo!" Hipolyta cooed stroking the raven locks of her son, as her friends and attendants went to clean the aftermath of the birth. A small sound of a secondary infant reached Hermia's ears, so faint. Hermia began to squint at the crimson sheet, only to squeal and jump back. She grasped Helena's wrist and pointed at the unimaginable sight.

"What is it?" asked Hipolyta in concern. Hesitantly Helena scooped the little creature up delicately in one hand and brought it before her queen's curious eyes. "Another babe, no bigger than a Rosemary leaf."

Hipolyta's eyes widened but then softened again. "Then that will be her name, Rosemary." she sighed taking the miniaturized child in her palm, despite the confused glances between Hermia and Helena. "Ah me, I had thought that Oberon king of the fairies had left me with child, yet I had planned it to be easy to pass off as Theseus'."

Then crystalline tears filled the eyes of the once Amazon princess. "Take my little Rosemary hence to the wood, call upon sweet Puck to present her to her father. Tell him I cannot keep her for sake of size and fear of Theseus.'

Without any questioning Hermia took the babe in her hand and with Helens awayed while queen Hipolyta wept for her lost daughter. In the wood Hermia made a shell with her hands as to keep the little princess warm as Helena called upon the fey.

After a while two small lights floated before their eyes. "How-now mortal." asked one. "Why call you upon Puck or Robin Goodfellow by his birth name."

"are you he?" asked Helena.

"Nay, I am Jaren Goodfellow father of that Robin Goodfellow. This with me is Cobweb."

Hermia stepped forth and held the babe up to the two fairies. "We are ladies to the queen; whom was once mistress to your king. This babe is his along with another of mortal size. Milady prays that you take Rosemary, for that is the child's name Rosemary to her father Oberon so that he may care for her."

The good fairy Cobweb took the child up in her arms and smiled at her elder companion. "Bless it be! Oberon has brought us forth a fair princess!" Cobweb then spun happily. "Oh Princess Rosemary welcome you! Oh my sweet princess! What joy this will bring the court!" then addressing the mortals. "Tell your queen to not fret for we take this blessing gladly!"

Then with final farewells and reassurances they were off.

It did not take the fey king long to fall head over heels in love with his first and only child. Apart from size she was more mortal than fey, but he cared not. Oberon just sat in his throne holding his daughter; listening to her coo, stroking her flaming red tuffs of hair and gazing into those pale eyes that matched his own. His lean jester at his side.

"Ah Puck!" he mused proudly. "I have never in my life taken to falling in love so quickly, so deeply as this night with my daughter."

Puck nodded. "Nor I seen you this happy. But if I may milord, let her come to her jester and I will make my fair Princess Rosemary smile!"

Oberon gladly passed her on to his henchman who bounced and held the babe tenderly; making silly noises until she did indeed laugh and reached her tiny arms up to Puck. The hobgoblin smiled and hugged the infant to him, cradling her head against his shoulder. Oberon let out a throaty chuckle. "Seems as if I am not the only one who has fallen in love this night."

"Rosemary will be as smart and kind as she is beautiful, I just know it."

But their joy was cut short by the heavy double doors being flung open by the jealous fairy queen, Titania. "Where is it?" she roared. Puck drew back with the little princess still in his arms. Titania stormed towards her Oberon; laying a burning slap across his tanned cheek.

"I was fine with your affair with Hipolyta because of mine with Theseus; but to mock my abilities as a woman not to bare children and claim a half-breed bastard as heir to MY throne!"

Oberon clasped a hand to his cheek and breathily replied, trying to maintain his anger. "Wife, I do not mock you, Rosemary just happened. I thought we may raise her as our own."

"I will call nothing that is not from my womb my child! Be rid of the abomination; I want it not in my sight! For it mocks my lack of fertileness by its mere presents and I will not be made a mockery of in my own kingdom."

Oberon began to raise his voice. "Spit at me, shun me, beat me, BUT AS GOD AS MY WITTNESS I WILL NOT BE RID OF MY OWN CHILD!"

Then and only then did Titania summon up a dark mist filled with evil sprites to pull and push at Puck to drop the babe from his steadfast grip. Though Oberon tried to fight his wife it was fruitless. "Either you away with her in peace or I take her by force!"

Oberon relented, falling to his knees. "Alright! You win. I will away with her." the cloud of dark magic fell away and Oberon panted from the earlier strain it caused. Panicked Robin Goodfellow stepped forth. "No milord let her stay, I will raise her!"

"I want that thing nowhere near me!"

"Obey her Puck." Oberon ordered hopelessly. "No harm will come to Rosemary if you obey her."

Puck stared into the pained eyes of his king and flew off into the night. The hobgoblin traveled to a faraway village and into a window of a good witch who told him that she would plant the babe in a flowerpot and there under a spell the child would stay for sixteen years and bloom within a flower full grown and healthy.

With her index finger the witch made a whole within some soil where Puck laid the child. Once in the soil he pressed his forehead to hers as his heart broke looking into her sweet, innocent eyes. "Fare thee well my sweet Princess." He whispered. "We will meet again my Rosemary."

-Storybrooke-

Rosemary Piccolo looked out the window her knees bent as she sat upon the window seat absentmindedly stroking the head of her pet Swallow with her thumb. A sigh came from her lush parted lips, as red tendrils fell in her pale emerald eyes.

"Its going to be another long day Jacquimo, I can feel it." She drearily mused to the bird snuggled happily against her chest. She then drew her eyes to the little creature. "I wonder how Tammy will torture me today."

There was a sudden slamming of the door followed by the loud bark of a dog and the sound of plastic bags. Rosemary stood from the sun bathed window seat and went to the hall to see her mother with their dog Hero bouncing around. "Oh Rosemary! I thought you'd be gone by now." Said her mother.

"Just about to leave." Smiled the redhead. "Thank you again for keeping Jacquimo and Hero here." A twinge of sadness entered her otherwise enchanting voice as she put her swallow back in its cage. "I thought Corey would be more of an animal lover when I married him."

Her mother shook her head as Rosemary kissed her cheek in a fond farewell. "Well that's what you get for getting married at 19. Goodbye dear, have a nice day."

"Bye mom."

-Maleficent's palace-

Queen Titania landed before the drawbridge taking on the appearance of a full sized mortal. The rain seemed to repel off of her violet cloak. She approached the castle with a heir of determination echoing in her leather clad step.

With a gust of magic the heavy double doors of the corridor flew opened. With exchanged glances from the two wicked enchantresses inside Titania made her entrance. "Oh how sweet, a tea party." The fairy queen mused with false honey dripping from her voice.

She summoned an extravagant chair to her side, sat upon it and let her main of gold curls free from the hood of her cloak. "Shame I wasn't invited." She added closing her legs.

Maleficent spoke first. "We are doing business Tatania."

The fey queen smirked, rubbing her long nails against the bodus of her golden gown as if to give them luster. "Yes. I know quite well of your and Regina's business. You seek revenge upon too otherwise innocent girls. I can help you."

Regina stood and strode to stand before the blonde sprite, nearly pressing their noses together. "Snow White is not innocent."

Titania simply laughed at the challenge shown in Regina's eyes.

"Whats in it for you." Asked Maleficent.

Titania stood, a glass of sweet red wine appearing in her hand as she began stalking about the room. "Simple, as most of you know my Oberon brought into the world a bastard some 15 years ago. I require a spell to make my court forget the thing was ever born, less the half-breed monster comes and tries to overthrow me."

Regina chuckled snidely. "That's it? What are the chances of that even happening? Of this thumb-sized mortal finding out who she is and going all the way to Athens to overthrow you."

Titania gave a curt frown. "What were the chances of a ten year old brat killing your love? Besides one of my court could seek her out and bring her."

"Why not just kill her then?"

"No Oberon would sense her murder."

Regina pouted her scarlet lips and crossed her arms in spite. "Are you not a fairy? You have magic, why ask for our help?"

"Even my magic has restriction Regina."

For the longest moment the crackling fireplace was the only sound in the room. Each stood at a post some ways apart from the other, contemplating; ally or enemy?

"What do you offer in return?" questioned Maleficent breaking the silence.

Mischief lit the grey eyes of Titania and a smirk graced her full lips. "A sleeping spell."

- Storybrooke; Midsummer Café-
Rosemary quickly let a small whimper escape her strawberry lips; for they were strawberry due to her standard Maybelline lip-gloss. The rain fell in such a gust that she knew even that small distance from the curb to the café door would leave her drenched. She should have left earlier; she knew that. It was sunny only minutes ago! But then again this was Maine after all.
Bracing herself she ran with a newspaper held over her head. Once inside she let her hands fall to her side, looking at her dripping floral sundress. "Drenched." She sighed hopelessly before going to the kitchen; unaware of the mischievous deep green eyes studying her disappointed face and committing the childlike sweetness of it to memory.
In the kitchen she found all eyes upon her; a blush crossed the apples of her cheeks. Even Paige Bloom, beautiful, vain Paige Bloom the head waitress gave her a look of distain. Rosemary caught glimpse of herself in Paige's compact mirror. She wasn't pretty, she knew that. She was cute; that was all. Her eyes were too large and to light a green, -her nose too pert and her hair too much of a flaming red. She had been called ugly before, she knew the awkward redhead looking back at her would never be considered any type of beauty, not like Tammy's other waitress and busgirls who were prefect like models. But Rosemary had come to terms with the fact she just didn't fit in.
"You're late." Said the familiar voice of Ashley Boyd who had snuck back to the kitchen to see her. Rosemary managed a small smile. "Did Robert do his first performance?" she asked. Ashley nodded and saw that the little redhead kicked herself mentally. "He seemed disappointed not to see you." The teen mother to be added, before getting a smug smile. "He like-likes you, you know."
Rosemary giggled tying on her apron. "Like-like? You make it sound like its 7th grade Ash."
Ashley rested herself up against one of the counters. "Why don't you talk to him?"
Rosemary shook her head. "No, no. hey I need to get to work or Tammy will have my butt." She hugged her friend goodbye. "Love you."

-the bar-

Robert Fey sat at the bar, red tie hanging loosely around his neck. The Brandy in his hand seemed refreshing, a good antidote for the club's failed accountant/standup comedian. He studied one of the strands of twinkling lights above the bar and huffed to himself as he listened to his best bud Owen who was the owner of the restaurant argue with his overbearing wife Tammy over their adopted son Raja. "Give it up Owen," Robert muttered to himself taking another sip of the alcohol. "The queen of the bitches is going to win as usual."

The young comedian then spun on the barstool to face the restaurant part of the establishment. His eyes instantly found those pale emeralds that were cast downward in concentration as a delicate hand moved n rhythmic circles with a washrag, cleaning a table. She looked up and gave him her standard soft smile. He gave her a small wave and her smile widened, a few strands of ginger curls brushing her cheeks. Robert smiled back at the pretty busgirl before him, Rosemary Piccolo. He had been silently flirting with the redhead (who in his mind was incredibly beautiful and sexy, especially when she laughed) for as long as he could recall. Rosemary was always the one who would stand in the doorway of the bar when he would perform his routine and laugh at all his cheesy jokes that she had without a doubt had heard over a thousand times or more and at one o'clock everyday they would smile at each other from across the bar. Robert got a huge lump in his throat whenever he thought to stop dicking around and finally talk to Rosemary.

"Still undressing Ms. Piccolo with your eyes Mr. Fey."

Robert twisted his lips at the abrupt Scottish accent at his right ear. "Mr. Gold. To what do I owe the displeasure." Robert hissed as the pawnbroker sat beside him. "A drink among friends." Gold then lifted his glass of scotch in the air. "To Rosemary and her husband Corey."

Robert Fey set down his glass in defiance and shook his head. "I'll drink to Rosemary and her health, but thats it! There is no way in hell I'm drinking to Corey. Pansy ass, greenhouse owning bastard." He took another drink

The pawnbroker smirked. "Ah yes, her health. The health you paid for. Tell me, what is it like to pay for a surgery for someone, without anything in return?"

The comedian glared.

"what made it worth your while Fey?" questioned Gold.

"you've never cared for anyone, have you?"

"How can you say you care for a woman you've never talked to? How do you know she's worth it?"

Robert stared into his glass and spoke softly. "Sometimes, you just... Know"

-toy shop 16 years later-

The toymaker smiled at the thumb-sized girl who was so thoughtfully talking and playing with his son. He shook his head wondering how such a sweet girl was fated to be so little. Geppetto withdrew the stack of miniaturized china from the cabinet and brought them over to where Thumbelina was. "The paint may still be wet." He cautioned. She took one of the elegant plates in her hands, studying the delicate roses and vibrant leaves on the rim. She looked up at the old toymaker and smiled with mist hinting at the corners of her green orbs. "I did not expect them to be this beautiful! The time it must have- they are just so lovely! How can I ever thank you?"

Geppetto only smiled and offered the girl his palm to walk her to the door. "Your tiny smile is payment enough my dear. And if you ever need me to build you anything else please ask." He knew she would not. She had never liked asking anyone, for anything for fear of inconveniencing them. He had been surprised that she had even asked him to make her something as simple as "real" china plates. She cherished them already, he could tell.

He sat the girl down, asking her one final time if he could walk her home. she refused and was on her way, plates resting in her arms. The sun seemed to warm her skin and spur her smile become even wider until dimples graced the apples of her cheeks. The citizens of her village where mindful of their step and bid her good morning pleasantly with a tip of their heads, all but one that is.

"Well look what we have here Lefou!" sneered Gaston, blocking Thumbelina's path with his boot, eclipsing the sun with his bulk. "It's the little cockroach Thumbelina." Her pale eyes enlarged in horror as she searched for the means to escape only to become trapped by the other boot. The troll-like man name Lefou knelt down and tried to flick her with his sausage fingers. "Ugly little bug isn't she!" his breath was fowl of stale alcohol and garlic. Thumbelina cleared her throat and spoke with flat bravery.

"Please Gaston not today. I just want to get home."

The hunter gave a curt laugh; sliding his leather boot back along the gravel. "Why didn't you say so little roach." With a swift kick of his boot the girl was sent flying in a cloud of dust and gravel only to land among the shattered pieces of her china plates and with it,…her heart shattered too. "That should teach her!" Gaston mocked in between his laughter.

Her lips parted in soft shaky breaths as she took some of the broken pieces in her hand, trying fruitlessly to put the pieces back together despite the crimson cuts it left on her delicate fingers. Hot tears began to roll down her cheeks, letting her sliced up hands fall to her lap.

"Now, now." A soft masculine voice cooed. "This isnt so bad."

She didn't care to look up at her visitor, all though the voice was unfamiliar. "Isnt so bad?" she whispered. "They're ruined! And Geppetto worked so hard on them, and its my own stupid fault because I was too proud to have him walk me home."

The voice spoke again, only it seemed closer to her now. "I can fix this, you know." Then from nowhere hand-small hands- hands her size encircled her wrist gently, slowly she lifted her eyes to meet the most vibrant moss green eyes she had ever seen with a devilish smile to accompany it. Softly she was lifted to her feet. Her male companion turned her wrists over and with a green light her cuts were healed and she gasped before meeting his eyes again. "See, I told you I could fix this Rosemary."

She felt the warmth of his grip somehow raise all the way to her cheeks, the feeling within her made her somehow soft spoken. "My name is Thumbelina."

The stranger gave her another smile. "My mistake." His smile widened making his tanned face more impish. "Thumbelina."

All at once she felt her own smile; from ear to ear; but it was a different kind of smile, different from any smile that had crossed her lips before. She felt feverish and jittery; and yet she felt too good and too comfortable to be sick. This stranger-this stranger like her, didn't feel like a stranger at all. She felt a sudden beguiling safety that she couldn't believe… but seeing is believing, and she saw him perfectly.

The man began to walk away with a proud stride, his earthy garments seemed to flow with his movements and with the wind. Thumbelina quickly scrambled for words before stepping fourth lunging a hand out. "Wait! I have so many questions!" the man seemed to ignore the desperation in her voice. "Where are you going? I don't even know your name!"

Oh if only his back was not turned the girl would see the cocky, arrogant enjoyment he was getting from this. she hesitated, ringing her hands. "Will I ever see you again?" she called after him, in one final attempt.

The stranger stopped in mid step, glancing over his shoulder. "Do you want to see me again?" he inquired with teasing superiority.

Thumbelina nodded. "Yes."

He chuckled. "Then, milady, you will see me again."

Thumbelina sighed in relief. "When?"

The stranger turning meeting her eyes. "I will come for you by moonlight. Be ready for me then."

She pondered this. "By moonlight? What day? How will you find me?"

He gave a swift bow. "You need not know how I will find you, just that I will find you. Robin Goodfellow always finds what he is looking for, even if it means putting a girdle around the world in 40 minutes." This made her laugh softly, tucking strands of windblown red behind her ear. "Now off you go Thumbelina; get yourself home."

A glint of green light caught her eye and she turned to see that her plates were no longer shattered, but stacked neatly in one piece. She turned back only to see her companion was gone. But she smiled to the sun and whispered to the breeze.

"Robin Goodfellow."

-Storybrooke-

Her nimble, delicate fingers tying knots binding two flowers together. Each peddle, each sent differed from its companion making it almost seem like a garden instead of her small apartment. The room smelled of the sweet white carnations and made Rosemary smile faintly. Flowers somehow made her nostalgic over something- a memory she never could quite grasp.

The door suddenly creaked open and shut almost as instantly. "Hey pretty lady." Came a silken voice as another body joined her on the plush carpet. "Mind if I join you?"

The redhead couldn't help but smile at her best friend who sat Indian or crisscross-applesauce style beside her, chipping right in. Heather Smith was a dazzling brunette; her eyes and teeth and bubbly, witty, no-nonsense personality just seemed to sparkle.

"Sooo." She began. "Did you talk to Rob or what?"

Rosemary rolled her eyes. "No, and I'm not going to. You know how jealous Corey gets."

Heather crinkled her nose. "You are married, not dead!" seeing that her friend was not paying her any never mind she continued only with mockery in her tone. "I would talk to him if I were you, guys make the best of friends you know. Cute face too…cute little butt!"

Rosemary stifled a laugh. "I'm going to pretend that you didn't just say that." Her fingers worked attentively to place each flower in a vase. Heather wanted one more smart remark to get her friend going.

"Maybe he's your true love."

In a flash Rosemary's head snapped up before gazing fondly at her emerald wedding ring. "Corey Piccolo is my true love. No one else."

-Hippolyta castle- Hippolyta's pov-

For the longest time I stood studying the dark oak stains of the door. My hand shook reaching for the handle only to fall against the lavender gossamer of my gown. Taking in a gulp of air and light confidence and I swung open the door.

The bursts of green and purple illuminated the balcony and the petite form who sat upon the white railing with her knees hugged to her chest. Her chest heaved in a sigh, straining against the lace of her nightgown, one arm hanging limply at her side with a daisy lazily dangling from her elegant fingers. My eyes traveled down to the marvel flooring of the balcony that mirrored the bursting fireworks in the sky; upon it were a burst of flower peddles, then I looked up to see the sadness marring the face of my daughter.

She had been plucking away the peddles; a schoolgirl fancy, to leave an ever burning question up to fate to answer. I smiled faintly and approached the balcony. Though her very light green eyes were looking upward at the fireworks I knew somehow she was looking beyond them and into a whole different word entirely- her own world. I picked up one of the fallen peddles and cleared my throat, getting her attention. "What is the verdict?" I ask.

She only looks away again, this time at her toes. "He loves me." there was heartache in her tone. I laughed, puzzled. "Is that not a good thing?"

"His actions say otherwise." She offers quietly. "His actions say; he loves me not." She purses her lips harshly, her eyes glistening with liquid crystals and I take my place next to her, cupping her chin in my hand. She speaks again. "I swore if he loved me enough he would find me again and fight for me." Her lips part and a shake of a breathe escapes her lips as her eyes fall away from mine. "But, he isnt coming, I know that now." A droplet escapes. "I am such a fool."

It only took but a moment for me to realize that two other persons had joined us. Her mother- her adopted mother and longtime friend to both of us Morgana Le Fey. I pass them both a glance before returning to my daughter. Her gown shown a pure glowing white under the moon's glow, and it made her herself made to look of porcelain even as a full sized mortal. "You are not a fool Thumbelina Rosemary. Following in my footsteps maybe, but not a fool- never a fool."

I then helped her to her feet and pointed towards the forest. "There!" I said in a hush. "There is Avalon my precious girl. And there lives the man I cried over 18 years ago on this very balcony. And you know who that man was?"

She shook her head.

"Your father, Oberon."

She smiles weakly addressing all of us. "We do not seem to have much luck with men, do we?"

her adopted mother laughs, Morgana only nodding and stepping forth. "If it pleases the princess, perhaps she would like to accompany me on a stroll before she retires?"

My daughter nods. "Yes Morgana, I think I would like that very much."

-Storybrooke-

The door swings open again and in enters the schoolteacher Mary-Margret. "Hey." She greets the two women packing up the flowers in boxes. "Ready to go deliver these to the patients?".

Rosemary nods. "More than ever."

He leaned against the hot brick of the deli, cigarette dangling from his lips, his vibrant green eyes trained on the Cadillac rolling up the road. Robert snickered at the over-dressed Scotsman who was hobbling towards him with that false displeasure marring his acute features. "Didn't I just see you Fey?" the pawnbroker quizzed, taking in the comedian's new attire of jeans and leather jacket with a raised eyebrow. "Yeah you did." Robert replied smugly. "But I figured its been awhile since we've celebrated something."

The deli was small and overprised owned by two immigrant brothers from Italy Tony and Joe Mazietti; but both men were welcomed there without any false niceties. Tony and Joe were one of the blessed few who didn't owe Gold anything and could put up with Robert's quirks.

The pawnbroker sniffed the air in disapproval. "I don't see why we need to lunch together Fey."

"Maybe if you get that bug out of your ass and act like you like me, I will explain to you what we are celebrating."

Gold didn't bat an eye at the remark. Despite the misleading signs the pawnbroker liked the man. He liked his cockiness and all together bold arrogance. He knew that deep down, behind the façade of wise cracks and smugness that Robert Fey was a force to be reckoned with, especially over one subject in particular.

The pawnbroker opened his menu. "If you use that kind of charm with Ms. Piccolo no wonder she hasn't paid you any never mind."

Robert inhaled a sharp breath opening his own menu, preparing for a battle of silver tongued wits. "Have you heard from Arabella Winters lately? Oh wait, no one has."

Slamming down the menu the pawnbroker met the comedian's eyes in a battle of glares; both remaining calm.

"Don't bring up Arabella."

"Don't bring up Rosemary." His tone was flat; the compromise lacing it was infuriating to Gold. Naturally Gold's irritability only heightened when the man took his dear sweet time ordering a salad instead of getting to the point. If the pair had to be described in a word, opposites would be the prime choice. Where Gold was a no-nonsense man, Fey was an all-nonsense man; both had different means of getting what they wanted; one by directness the other by playing off of the "when is the other shoe going to drop" mind game.

The food came and went, Fey all the while going on about his business in his la-de-da "skipping around the issue" way. Not saying a word as to why in the blazes he had dragged the Scotsmen clear to the other side of Storybrooke. Gold tried to remain level-headed, as not to blow his temper at the comedian because he knew that was exactly what Fey wanted from him.

Yet when Fey decided to fish in the ketchup bottle with a knife for that last few droplets Gold blew, snatching the bottle with a snarl. "Oh what the hell Robert!" he slammed the bottle down, ketchup spurting out and landing on the "mischief managed" patch upon the sleeve of the comedian's leather jacket. Fey wiped the splatters from the patch with a smirk. "Oh so now its Robert? Must mean I'm in trouble."

"I am losing my patients Fey!"

"Well that's obvious."

"Will you just tell me why in the name of god we are here? Instead of skirting around the issue! I don't have time for this!"

Fey smirked swirling his whine in his glass. "Really, I always make time for a good game of mind screw. What else can I do when I'm not being your eyes and ears."

The pawnbroker having enough slammed his fist against the table. "Get to the point Robin!"

Robert blinked, before rolling his eyes and leaning forward. "We are celebrating the fact that I just put a certain Henry Mills on a bus to Boston to find one Emma Swan….You're welcome."

Unlocking the door to their apartment above the Storybrooke fire station she flipped on the lights. It was small but it was home. She idly kicked off her flats; passing by her wedding picture; taken after the big Storybrooke Knights game when her then quarter back boyfriend Corey Piccolo made the winning pass. It was a spur of the moment wedding and all together a spur of the moment relationship, but she loved him. He was the crème de le crème of Storybrooke high and she Rosemary Smalls was a nobody back in those days.

She went to her blinking message machine, pressing the button; the first two messages were unimportant; a lower your credit card debt automated thing and a reminder from Dr. Whale that she had an appointment Tuesday 3:00. The next message was Corey saying he was going out with the boys and not to wait up. The last was her other best friend Ana checking in on her.

With that she put on her pajamas, heated a Marie Calendars' pot-pie and ate by the moonlit window that faced the town clock. Every night was the same; Corey was gone and she was alone. But it was a different kind of loneliness; it was the kind that sot no comfort or relaxation,…only overwhelming sadness.

She would call Ana, Heather or even Ash sometimes; but the phone calls never lasted long enough. She would text Colin her other friend but still she felt alone. She ate alone, she fell asleep alone and she woke up alone. Only 22 and she was just alone.

She went to text her husband an "I love you" only to see his phone charging on the counter. Rosemary rested her head back against the wall. "Beautiful night." She says solemnly turning her face towards the clock tower and as if in response the once ever frozen hand of the minute hand inches forth from the Roman numeral to reveal the time to be 8:16.

-the village tavern-

Timing the swing of the door was no easy feet; yet, she managed it. Locks of the most delicate shade of auburn peaked over the edge of the velvet green of her cloak hood, popping against it. She smiled in devious triumph stepping more in to the smoke-hazed room.

It was bursting with merriment just as the good witch Morgana had told her it would. She had told her that she would find what she was looking for in the merriest of places and here she was two years later, a blooming young woman of 18. Adventurous, curious and ready.

She had to be careful; mindful of the drunken dancing feet and mindful not to make her presents known, else to be swept up in a sweaty palm and returned home to a scornful mother.

She took in her surroundings, scanning every inch of the pub. When from out of nowhere a man shrilled spilling his drink down his neck, wildly claiming that there was something that bobbed against his lips. She was close. He was here!

"Looking for me, milady?" she jumped wheeling around on her heel at the sudden voice behind her. He met her eyes with a smirk crossing his arms snidely. "It was foolish to come seek me out, I said I would find you-"

"I have been waiting for you for two years." She dropped the hood of her cloak and matched his gaze. "I thought it was high time I come and find you. Robin Goodfellow. Are not you he, that frights the maidens of the village, Skim milk, and sometimes labor in the quern and bootless make the breathless housewife churn." Her smile was that of pride of her knowledge

He chuckled and gave a bow. "You did your research. Good girl." Their eyes filled with challenge.

"Keeping a girl waiting for two years gives her a lot of time to do research on the one she is waiting for."

"You are smarter than when I left you last." he complimented. "Prettier too. Your eyes suit you; delicate but impish. A reflection on your personality."

She laughed. "I am far from delicate Mr. Goodfellow."

He frowned, was quite a sight. Tan, tall with a glint of trouble in his eyes, standing upon one high heeled shoe and a male boot, a kilt made of cut up ties and a bowler hat like a crown atop his dark tresses. All doll clothes of course. He would have been laughable be it not for the bulk of his strength and reputation. "Apparently you did not do enough research or you would know that I prefer Puck as apposed to Robin Goodfellow."

"Why did you keep me waiting?" she asked.

He then appeared behind and all around her. "How do you know I did not plan this? that I did not summon up some invisible force to call you to me?" he was before her again, her wrist captured in his hand gently, voice a heated whisper near her ear . "After all, we are well met by moonlight proud Thumbelina."

She softly gasp at the touch; remembering how he had healed her.

After a moment he lifted her to one of the ceiling beams and sat with his knees crocked a few feet away watching the auburn-hair girl clutch one of the beams, resting her pinked cheek upon the dark oak. Her pale skin seemed to have almost a golden glow from the candlelit tavern below. He seemed to be searching those sea foam green orbs; for mortal-born her profile seemed paradoxically mystical; soft, playful and enchanting. With a smile she could capture a room and with a flash of those large doe-eyes bring a man to his knees and leave him begging for mercy or for love; and the mischief searing behind that innocent greenness. "A hellcat waiting to be freed." He thought sitting back on his heels. How deliciously amusing it would be to strip her of human morals and instead give her magic. Away with that pretty green-eyed innocence and bring hence the beauteous mischief to make her and him kindred and smiling.

He chuckled inwardly at the thought. Yet his imaginary knavery was brought to a halt when he suddenly found that her profile was no longer a profile and those orbs were now boring into his questioningly. "Robin?" she said softly. "What are you looking at?" he discovered himself momentarily in awe of the lullaby-like quality of her voice and then snapped himself back into his trickster mannerisms. "I told you." He started with falsified annoyance. "Call me Puck, and I was looking at you! Is it a crime to look at you?" he raised an eyebrow in challenge.

Faintly, she smiled. "No." she replied; heat rising to the apples of her cheeks. "But… why were you looking at me?" it was his turn to have heat rise to his cheeks and ears. He looked away, playing with his fingernails. "Because your hair is a funny color,… red,…. Its unusual."

She frowned slightly and returned her cheek to the beam; looking out upon the sea of lazy drunks and their slurred actions. They were tranquil now; no longing dancing and shouting. He studied her pixie-like profile again and noted longing glimmering in her eyes. He stood going to her side. "What are you doing Thumbelina?" he asked.

"Sometimes I just look at people and make up stories." She then pointed towards an attractive dark-haired man conversing with a barmaid. "He thinks she's beautiful." She explained to the hobgoblin. "He is older than her and has loved her most of her life but does not know how to tell her. She then smiled widely. "You see a witch cast a spell on him so all words of love are lost to him and if he tries he will grow the hands of a chimp and fish gills!" she laughed at her own fantastical story before seeing the smile on the face of her companion. She drew back in embarrassment. "Forgive me." she looked away. "I-I do not usually share my stories with anyone."

"It is a wonderful story!" he assured. "Tell me more Thumbelina." He coaxed her to do so; he too even told her the story of a traveling player who had once the head of an ass. They conversed sweetly in fantastical intellect until under the moonlight of her windowsill saying goodbye.

"Thank you." She whispered; eyes meeting eyes.

"I did nothing." Said he.

"You listened to my stories." She said softly walking a few feet away before facing him again. She seemed so different from the little red-headed ball of fire that had intrigued him earlier. So dossal, so delicate, so tamed. She sat down before him, hands folded on her lap. He found that this side of her too pleased him.

"You know I have a lot of friends-big friends of course like Ella and Beauty and Snow; yet, somehow, I always feel so lonely in there presents. Probably because they are not my size." She looked up and smiled at him. "But this night, I did not feel alone anymore,…I think that is why I told you some of my stories."

With that he stepped just before her and touched her hand with gentle fingers. "May you never have to feel alone again."