Pete and Myka ran though the umbilicus, passing Lena, who annoyedly dodged Pete's high-five. Pete reached the car first and took the driver's seat. As he turned the key in the ignition, Myka took the seat next to him. Pete began shifted the car into drive and Myka hoisted the spectrometer, which took up far more of her seat than she did, so it was pointing out the front window. The remnants of Todd's getaway vehicle shimmered into existence and began to more forward alarmingly fast. Pete floored the gas pedal in chase of the image.

"Where is she..." he murmured.

"What?"

"Claud isn't shotgun."

"Is she on the floor in back? Can you se- ah! Eyes on the road, I'll take this one!"

Myka squirmed around the spectrometer, opened her window, and stuck her head out. It was then obvious how fast they were going and she said a quick thank you to whoever up there didn't send policemen to middle-of-nowhere land. Maneuvering her neck around, she caught a glimpse of taut rope lying on the back floor.

"Yeah, she's there." Myka pulled her head back in and smoothed her hair down habitually.

"That's not helpful."

"What do you mean that's not helpful. Of course it's helpful, that's something we have to know-what are you saying?"

"Jees, Myks, I know this is very stressful, but I wasn't talking about Claudia, I was talking about your trying to fix your hair after sticking it out the window at 90 miles per hour."

"Oh. Well don't talk about that. Claudia could be in serious trouble."

"And we're going to get her out. She's cool, Myka. She'll probably find us before we know it," Pete soothed.

Myka sighed as Pete drove faster.

Lena rushed over to the piles of cards listing the Warehouse Artefacts, took a deep breath, and dug in.
Flexing her fingers amidst the yellowing paper, she felt around for the right gard. A minute later, she emerged, victorious.
"The Witch's Scissors," she read quietly. "Cut Rumplestilstkin's thread, sliced a poison apple, cut Rapunzel's hair. Effect: Traps mind. Side effect: Grows hair."

The woman flipped open her Farnsworth.

"Myka?"

"Yes?"

"The card says the scissors trap your mind. Not the user - the one who gets the haircut."

"Scissors? What scissors? Pete, did you do this?"

"No no," Lena interrupted, "The witch's scissors. You know, from Rapunzel?"

"You don't say!" Myka heard Helena exclaim in the background.

"Yes," Lena addressed Myka, then turned behind her. "And yes, Helena."

Pete leaned over. "What are we looking for? Big, small...green with glitter?"

"We never had it in our possession, so we have no real record," Lena answered. "Assumably, they're about the size of your han-Pete's hand. Metal, most likely. Probably not tarnished, so silver or gold."

"Thanks, Lena. Pete! Eyes. On. The. Road."

Lena shut her Farnsworth.

"Pete," Myka started. "Do you have any idea where we're going?"

"Nowhere I've been. We've been going in the same direction for forever. And we haven't passed any towns. And I'm kind of hungry."

"I promise you I'll bake you a cake when we have Claudia home safe. We'll have a party."

"With balloons?"

"And streamers."

"And chocolate ice cream?"

"And whipped cream and sprinkles."

Pete smirked.

"What was that?" Myka demanded exasperatedly.

"Nothing..."

They kept driving.