Disclaimer: I don't own Enchanted or any of the characters that you recognize in this story. Anyone you don't recognize, well, they're mine.

Summary: When your father falls in love with a fairytale, how can you not believe?

AN: I've seen Enchanted twice so far, and I couldn't help but wonder - how would Morgan view the relationship between Giselle and her father, and how would that impact her views on love growing up? I got to wondering, and this story poured out.

AN2: The sections in italics are flashbacks. And I apologize for any errors - I don't have a beta.

Morgan believed in fairytales. At the ripe old age of 21, you'd think she'd known better, especially after having dealt with the boys that had populated her high school and college campuses. Still though, fairytales were real.

She hadn't always believed so adamantly that someone could live happily ever after. Oh, she had hoped and dreamed, but she hadn't actually known. Fifteen years ago, B.G. (or Before Giselle) she'd been like any other six-year-old, playing with her dolls and wishing that one day her prince would come.

She didn't think of the times BG very often. Not because they were so awful, but just because once Giselle had twirled herself into their hearts, things were just that much better. Morgan knew her real mom had left her and her dad. He'd never really come out and said so, but she knew. The whispered phone conversations that he'd tried to hide from her as she got older, the offhand comments about "that woman" from her Gran, they'd all been obvious once she'd been more aware that she only had her daddy there with her. Not that she minded much. She barely remembered her mother other than faint impressions of cold hugs and smiles, impersonal hands taking care of her. Her dad had more than made up for that missing presence in her life.

He'd tried to be everything for her, a playmate, a confident, and if he hadn't been very good at brushing out her hair and putting in braids and ponytails, he'd learned. She'd had her Gran and sometimes Sam from her dad's office when he'd brought her in with her, and then there'd been Nancy, of course, but she counted on her dad the most. Even if he did try to give her stupid books about great women of the world instead of the fairytale books she'd wanted for weeks.

Morgan grinned a bit at that. She still had that book her dad had given her the night that Giselle had almost literally dropped into their lives. He'd been so determined for so long about shielding her from being hurt, trying to dispel any foolish fantasies that he thought would only tear her heart in two. She'd realized later, from talking with Giselle, that he'd really been trying to protect himself as well, not wanting his daughter to ever feel the pain he'd had when his first supposed love had left him.

And then they'd met Giselle, and despite everything, she'd managed to get them to see that fairytales could exist and that true love was a possibility. She'd made them believers. So what if everyone thought the events of the 2007 King and Queen's Ball had been a gas leak that had made everyone hallucinate a 20-foot long dragon. The Philips knew better. The dragon, and the apple, and the true love's kiss (it was the most powerful thing in the world, after all) were what had really happened that night.

Giselle and her dad hadn't told her the full story for a few years after that night. She thought it had something to do with not wanting to scare her. She hadn't really cared at the time. All she'd known was that Giselle was staying, her dad wasn't marrying Nancy, and that her dad was happy. Oh, she knew he'd been happy BG. But he was so different with Giselle in his life. He smiled all the time, and had no qualms about sneaking up on her or Giselle in their apartment and pulling them into an impromptu dance.

Life with Giselle was, to be clichéd, a fairytale. That's not to say it had all been easy – her dad had to help Giselle establish herself as U.S. citizen, and they had both helped her navigate the new world she lived in – but they'd been happy. When her dad was at work, she was at school, or karate class, or hanging around Giselle's new (Nancy's old) design studio. When they were all together they played games, or went to the park and movies and dinner. Her dad, who had taken five years to get to a point where he was comfortable proposing to Nancy, had taken less than five weeks to propose to Giselle.

Now that had been interesting. He'd been so nervous! Even though he knew that Giselle was his true love, he still hadn't been sure that she would say yes. When he had told her of his plans to propose, asking for her help, she'd giggled and shook her head at the thought that Giselle would ever say no to him.

"Giselle?" The redhead looked up from the pattern in front of her, an intense look of concentration on her face. For a moment, Morgan almost regretted interrupting her – while Giselle was good at her dressmaking, it was a little harder for her to transfer her creations to a pattern for her employers to work with. But she really needed to know. "Are you and my dad going to get married?"

Giselle's eyes widened. "I don't know Morgan. Why do you want to know?"

Morgan shrugged. "I don't know. You love him, don't you?"

Giselle's gaze had softened, and the pencil in her hand clattered to the table and rolled unnoticed onto the floor. Morgan kicked her feet against the legs of the chair she was perched on and kept her eyes trained on the ground. A few seconds passed, and the Giselle was there, kneeling in front of her. "I do love him, very much."

"More than Prince Edward?"

Pale fingers fluttered for a moment before settling on top of hers, the cool fingers somehow warm and reassuring on hers. "Oh Morgan, yes."

"But wasn't he your true love? What made you stay here? Why didn't you go back to Andalasia?"

Fingers tightened around hers, before Giselle pulled her into her arms and slowly stood. Morgan wrapped her arms and legs around Giselle, clinging to her, not caring that it made her seem younger than six years. Giselle moved quickly to her office just off the main floor, and settled her onto the loveseat that was miraculously empty of fabric for once. Giselle settled beside her, pulling her against her side. "Morgan, do you remember what I said to you the morning after the ball?"

Morgan furrowed her brows, thinking back. "You said that Prince Edward had gone home and that you were staying."

"Do you remember what else I said?"

"Something about paths?"

"That's right. I thought that Prince Edward was my true love, but that he was really the path leading me to you and your father. At the ball, that night? I was very confused about everything that was happening and upset about leaving with Edward – although I didn't know why at the time. And I was so upset that I let this old woman convince me to take a bite of an apple that she had poisoned."

Morgan gasped at that. Her dad may not let her read very many fairytales, but she knew what had happened to Snow White! "What happened?"

Giselle looked at her softly. "Well, I fell into a very deep sleep. I don't remember much, but then suddenly, I woke up, like I'd had a very long nap."

"How'd you wake up?"

"I was kissed by my one true love." Giselle's voice lowered as if she were telling a secret. "Always remember this Morgan – anything can happen with true love's kiss. It's the most powerful thing in the world."

Morgan nodded solemnly. "Did Prince Edward save you?"

"No, Morgan. Your father did."

"My dad?!"

Giselle nodded. "Your dad did. Do you know why?"

"Because he's your true love?"

"He is. And I couldn't go back to Andalasia if my true love was here in New York. So I'm here, and I'm staying Morgan."

"But then why don't you know if you are going to get married?"

"Well," Giselle paused and bit her lip, her fingers fluttering a bit again as they did when she got nervous or excited. "I suppose because he hasn't asked me."

"Do you want to marry him?" Morgan's gaze were steady, the confusion over the events that had kept Giselle in their lives finally abating.

"I do, but we've only been on a few dates Morgan. I know your father loves me, but I don't know if that's what he has in mind."

Morgan nodded. "He'll ask. I hope. I think I'd like it if you were my step-mom."

It had been two weeks later when her father had taken her to a jewelry store to help pick out a ring for Giselle. He'd asked her that morning, after dropping Giselle off at her office, if she would help him pick out a ring for her. She didn't think he was expecting quite the reaction he got – especially after her rather non-reaction to his announcement about planning on proposing to Nancy. Needless to say, he'd laughed and returned her hug, telling her as the cab pulled up in front of her school for the last day of class for the summer that he'd pick her up after school let out and they'd go to the jewelry district.

Morgan shook her head and tapped a finger on the table, checking her watch with a disinterested air. She had dinner plans with the family tonight, and since she'd been in town already for class, she said she'd just meet them at the restaurant instead of traveling home and back.

She'd been there for the proposal. Her dad had said that since she was the one to first see Giselle and bring her into their lives that she deserved to be there when he asked Giselle to make it permanent.

"Dad?"

Her dad looked at her from his seat beside her in the cab. "Yes, Morgan?"

"Do you love Giselle?"

"Of course I do Morgan, would I be proposing tonight if I didn't?"

"But you said you were going to propose to Nancy." He nodded, his gaze serious, but he didn't say anything. "So did you love Nancy?"

"I did, but not the way that I love Giselle."

"What's do you mean?"

"Well…I suppose I thought I loved Nancy because I'd been with her so long, but when I met Giselle, I realized what love really was."

"Did you love my mom?"

"I loved Sarah very much, Morgan. Doubly so because she gave me you, but what I feel for Giselle, I've never felt before." One of his hands reached out to brush her cheek.

She nodded solemnly. "But if you loved my mom, and you loved Nancy, and you love Giselle, what's the difference? What makes Giselle so different?"

Her dad was long for a very long time, so long that she worried that she'd made him second-guess his proposal for that night. Finally he spoke, his blue eyes steady on hers. "Giselle told me she'd let you know about the ball and true love's kiss."

Morgan nodded again. "She said to remember that anything could happen with true love's kiss. That it was…"

Her dad finished her thought. "The most powerful thing in the world." She nodded. "Giselle was right, Morgan. It's hard to explain now, but when you're older, you'll understand."

Morgan pouted. "Everyone is always saying that."

Her dad laughed and tugged on one of her braided pigtails. "I suppose they are. All right, I guess I don't really know what makes Giselle so different, other than to say, I feel different in my heart."

"Different how?"

He laughed and shrugged. "I don't know. Before Giselle I wouldn't have believed in any of this." He bent his head closer to her, a smile playing at the corners of his lips. "When its true love, sweetheart, you just know."

She smiled at the memory, and would have been perfectly content to stay there remembering for the rest of the night, but a glimpse of her watch out of the corner of her eye had her up and out of her seat. If she didn't hurry, she was going to be late for dinner. Finishing her drink quickly, she grabbed her bag from the floor by her feet, and rushed outside, merging expertly with the early evening crowd flooding the sidewalks of New York.

A few minutes later, Morgan paused outside the window of the restaurant, peeking inside to see if her family had made it there before her. A quick glance found Giselle's vibrant auburn hair, a little shorter than when she'd first come to New York, but still longer than most women her age wore it. Not that Giselle looked at all her age. For that matter, the only clue that her father was a day older than forty was the hint of grey that was clustered at his temples. They made a striking pair sitting next to each other and they looked just as in love as they did on they day that they were married. As she watched, her dad said something with a smile on his face, and Giselle laughed, pulling him to her for a quick kiss.

Her brother and sister were there as well, she saw. Cameron was 15 now and was looking more and more like their dad every day. Elisabeth, or Beth as she preferred to be called, had the gorgeous hair of their mom and the blue eyes of both their parents. Even at 11, you could tell she would be a heartbreaker when she grew up.

Giselle looked up then and saw her through the window, a bright smile on her face as she waved. Morgan grinned and waved back, making her way over to the entrance. Her focus still on her family inside, she didn't pay enough attention to where she was going and was startled as a bike messenger jumped the curb and sped past on his bike. She barely jumped out of the way in time, but still felt herself begin to fall backwards and she braced herself for impact with the concrete of the sidewalk.

Suddenly, masculine arms came around her waist, supporting her, and she wasn't falling anymore. She allowed herself to catch her breath, her heart racing from the near collision, and she turned her head to look up at her savior. Tousled blonde hair and brown eyes were her first impression as the stranger helped her back to her feet. "Oh my goodness!" She steadied herself and brushed her long hair out of her eyes. "Thank you!"

Her rescuer flashed a quick grin at her and shrugged. "I couldn't just let you fall." He turned a glare in the direction of the bike messenger. "I hope that guy doesn't drive a car."

Morgan grinned in return and, after peeking at his left hand to make sure he wasn't wearing a ring on a very important finger, took a moment to assess him. He was tall, about her dad's height and seemed fit enough. Her roommate in college would have said he had a swimmer's body – wide shoulders, trim waist and narrow hips. He was dressed in dark jeans and a dark green sweater, and after a quick glance down she happily found that he was wearing actual shoes and not sneakers. "In this city? He probably drives a cab."

"You're probably right about that one. You're okay though?"

Morgan nodded and took a breath. "Yup, thanks to you. Could I buy you a drink some time to thank you?" She paused and bit her lip. "I'd offer to go now, but I'm meeting my family for dinner tonight." She waved a hand in the direction of the restaurant behind them.

His chocolate brown eyes widened fractionally, before a smile crossed his features. "I suppose I can't say no to a drink with a pretty lady, now can I?"

"Well, I'd advise against it," she laughed.

He laughed as well. "I'm Kevin by the way."

"Morgan." She held out her hand, and he grasped it in his. At the first touch of his hand to hers, she found herself staring into his eyes, lost in the moment as her heart stopped beating for one infinitesimal moment.

Kevin blinked, slowly withdrawing his hand before flashing a grin at her. "So, can I get your number then? I don't want to keep you from your family."

"Do you have a cell?" He nodded, pulling it from a back pocket and handing it to her. She arched an eyebrow and wondered if he'd meant to trail his fingers over the palm of her hand as he did so, and then decided that she really didn't care. With the practice borne of someone who'd had a cell phone since age eight, she punched in her phone number, allowing it to ring through to her phone before handing it back. "I guess I'll talk to you soon?"

"Count on it." He smiled. "Have a good night, Morgan."

"You too, Kevin." She turned toward the restaurant before pausing and taking a half step back to him. He hadn't moved. "Maybe next time you won't need to rescue me."

She left Kevin laughing on the sidewalk as she disappeared into the restaurant, a wide smile on her face. Yeah, she believed in fairytales.

The End.