A/N: Just finished these 2 chapters, so I'm double updating. Hope ya like em'.

;)


Chapter 8: Coming out of the Woodwork

Snow White—or Emma's mother, or Mary Margaret, or whatever she was supposed to be called—pulled the front door open before Emma could even reach for the knob. She grabbed hold of Emma's arm and yanked her inside before poking her head out the door, looking to see if the unwanted house-guest was coming-up the sidewalk.

"Are you alright? Did he hurt you in any way?" Snow asked as she shut the door behind herself and then pulled Emma into a tight hug.

Emma's eyes widened at the forcefulness of the hug, and from over Snow's shoulder, the prince—or her father, or David, or whatever he was supposed to be called—smiled at the two hugging women.

"I don't see him anywhere," the prince remarked as Emma pulled away from Snow White, "Did you hit him over the head with something again?"

Emma rolled her eyes.

"No. He's fine and I'm fine," she replied, "Jefferson is not the scariest person in this town—trust me on that. So, how has everything been here?"

Emma glanced around the kitchen and into the other spaces she could see, looking for Henry and Grace.

"It's been nuts! Your phone's been ringing non-stop," Snow informed her, "We've had everything from a call from Paige's parents...to calls from various townsfolk, wanting to know when you plan to come back to work. And—"

"You've also had a visitor."

Emma glanced up at the sound of the new voice and her jaw fell at what she saw. Entering the kitchen was a wooden man—a walking, talking wooden man. With every step he took towards her his wooden shoes clapped flatly against the floor and his joints creaked with each movement.

"August?" she breathed-out his name, and then she thought she might fall to the floor at the sight of a living puppet—a living puppet she had thought was dead!

Her legs wobbled underneath her then, and two hands from behind were quick to move to her waist, steadying her. It drew her attention away from August and over her shoulder. Jefferson—sneaky as ever—had slipped in the door behind her and was standing at her back. His eyes didn't meet hers. Instead, they were fixed on the wooden man.

"Emma thought you were dead," Jefferson told him, "We went looking for you at the inn."

The sound of little feet pounding the floor came running towards them, then.

"Papa!" Grace called as she ran out of Emma's bedroom and into the kitchen

A smile that bloomed from Jefferson's heart and then spread across his face was met by the equally happy smile of his daughter. Emma stepped out of the way as the two embraced, and for a moment, she forgot all about the wooden puppet standing in the kitchen. Her eyes were fixed on Jefferson as he lifted his daughter from the floor and hugged her, placing a kiss on her forehead. Emma felt a fluttery ache of longing inside her chest as she stared at him. There were very few things more attractive than a loving father and there was no question that Jefferson loved Grace. In a flash, his eyes met hers, and he examined her curiously, noticing the awe that was on her face as she stared at him. It amazed Jefferson that—somehow—he held her attention over the boy that was standing in front of her.

"Emma!"

Emma blinked and her head lowered as she followed the sound of the familiar voice. Henry stood before her, giving her a weird look and Emma wondered how long he'd been there.

"Hey kid." she greeted him as her hand ruffled his hair.

The boy looked annoyed and shook his head, attempting to fix what Emma's hand had ruffled.

"Did you hear me? I said we have to help August become real again!" Henry exclaimed.

Emma looked up at the wooden man standing in the kitchen and she took a deep breath before blowing it out in frustration.

"Right." she said as she walked over to the kitchen table where Snow White and the prince were sitting and she took a seat.

Jefferson watched as Emma drug a hand across her forehead, expressing fatigue. She had helped enough for one day and she had already made agreements to help-out even more. Jefferson shot a look at the string-less puppet as he set Grace down on her feet.

"Maybe you could earn the right to be real by filling-in for Emma at the Sheriff Department," Jefferson suggested and August stiffly raised a wooden eyebrow at his words, "Answering phones, responding to disturbances, looking-out for the common good. That should get you back "in-the-flesh" in no time."

August narrowed his eyes at Jefferson and the action made an audible sound.

"Remind me—who are you supposed to be again?"

The man who was not made out of wood, but who often drank tea, narrowed his eyes, knowing that the puppet wanted him to admit to being the "Mad Hatter".

"My name's Jefferson."

Emma looked between the two men, sensing a little tension, and she stood-up from her chair.

"Filling-in for me at the station—That's actually a good idea," she added as she looked at August, "Watching-out for this guy," Emma threw a thumb at Jefferson, "Is a full-time job. I really could use a stand-in. Would you mind?"

His eyes looked from Jefferson to Emma and the creaking sound of his eyes moving inside his wooden eye-sockets could be heard throughout the room.

"If you think I'm right for the job—Sure." he shrugged.

Emma rolled her eyes.

"Of course you're right for the job! Look at you," she said, noting his wooden physique, "You won't even need a bulletproof vest!"

August didn't laugh at her joke—he only gave her a bored look.

"Funny," he said, "I guess there's no escaping the wood jokes from now on."

Emma smiled.

"Sorry," she apologized, "I'm just glad you're alive."

August put his wooden hands against his chest, checking that he was, indeed, alive as he glanced down at himself.

"Yeah," he agreed as he looked-up to meet Emma's gaze, "I'm glad I'm alive too."

Jefferson looked between the two of them as they stared at each other for a moment longer. They definitely had a connection. He could see it in their faces—even in a wooden face he could see it! They had history together, and it set a small fire inside of him that made him hate August just a little. It was jealousy. Jefferson smirked as he recognized the emotion. In neither of his lives—in none of the worlds he'd lived in—had he ever been jealous of the attentions a woman gave to another man. Never had he been jealous over a woman. Not until now.

"I'll give you my badge and the keys to the station to make this legit." Emma told August and Jefferson watched as she walked out of the kitchen.

The two men eyed each other with distaste while Emma was gone, and when she returned they looked away nonchalantly.

"Here you go!" Emma said as she walked back into the kitchen and handed August the badge and keys.

Her hand brushed the smooth wood of his and it made her cringe a little. August tried to ignore it.

"Alright," he said as his wooden fingers closed around the items, "I guess I'm officially sworn-in as town sheriff."

"For now." Emma was quick to reply as she crossed her arms over her chest and gave him a playful look.

August smiled and even that action caused his wooden face to make an audible sound.

"Guess I'll see you later then," he told Emma with a wink before he walked towards the door, "Goodnight, everyone."

They all wished him a "goodnight" except for Jefferson. August shot the other man a look before he exited the apartment. It was a look filled with suspicion and just plain distrust. When their guest was finally gone, Snow White and the prince began asking Emma questions about her day. Emma told them everything. She told them about her ability to find people, about Rumpelstiltskin's mystery girl and about his missing son. Inevitably, all of her storytelling only made Emma curious to read Henry's storybook and she went to her bedroom to find it. She missed dinner and Jefferson's card tricks. She missed seeing Snow White lend Jefferson some of "David's" clothes. She nearly missed hugging Henry goodnight as she got so wrapped-up in the storybook that she forgot about everything else.

"Goodnight," Snow whispered from Emma's doorway and she glanced up from the book that was laying open in her lap.

Emma responded with a smile as she watched Snow White and the Prince retire to the bedroom. She went back to reading then, and she read the book all the way through, learning many things, but still there were so many things she didn't know. It was the "things she didn't know" that kept her from sleeping. She tossed. She turned. Her thoughts ran wild. Eventually, she got out of bed in search of a glass of water.

Emma was very quiet as she tip-toed into the kitchen, making sure not to wake-up the two who were sleeping in the living-room. It was well passed midnight and she and Jefferson had plans to be at Regina's at noon, so she didn't want to wake him. Never-the-less, with a glass of water in her hand, Emma couldn't help but get closer. She walked into the living room where the couch was and she saw Jefferson and Grace laying there. Emma noted how he laid on his side with an arm under his pillow as Grace was curled into his chest. It seemed very natural and comfortable for the two of them as if they had often had to share a bed.

"How was your book?"

Emma jumped at the sound of his voice and it caused some of her water to splash onto her hand. A smile formed on Jefferson's face when she didn't immediately answer and then he opened his eyes to see her. Emma scowled.

"It was...informative," she whispered as she cautiously eyed Grace, not wanting to wake her.

Jefferson noticed.

"Don't worry about Grace," he whispered back as he smoothed a hand over the girl's hair, "She's a heavy sleeper like her mother was."

Emma curiously tilted her head to the side at the mention of Grace's mother. There was nothing about Jefferson's wife in Henry's book. There were a lot things the book hadn't told her about Jefferson, and though she'd never admit it out-loud, she wanted to know more.

"Who was she?" Emma asked, "Was she another famous fairytale character?"

Jefferson's eyebrows knitted together at her question and he shifted uncomfortably on the couch.

"Fairytale character?" he uttered the words as he shot her a dark look, "She was real. Just as real as you are."

Emma swallowed under his dark stare, realizing that his wife was a sensitive subject.

"I'm sorry," Emma apologized, "But, you know what I meant."

Jefferson sighed, and his jaw clenched as he stared up at the blonde woman who suddenly wanted him to bare his soul to her.

"She was Alice," he admitted, "The Alice. Didn't Henry's book mention her?"

Emma shook her head.

"Henry's book didn't mention a lot of things, like: How you meet Rumpelstiltskin, for example."

Jefferson gave a dry laugh.

"It's no wonder," he replied, "That's a long, boring story that you shouldn't even worry about. But since we were talking about the parents of our children—Where's Henry's father?"

Emma huffed-out a breath and defensively crossed her arms over her chest at the question.

"He's—I don't know where he is. I haven't seen him since—"

Emma couldn't bring herself to finish the sentence as her eyes met Jefferson's. He smirked as he realized that Henry's father was an unfavorable subject.

"I take it that the two of you weren't in-love."

Emma rolled her eyes, and with a deep breath she placed her glass of water down on a nearby coffee table.

"Jefferson. I don't know if I want to be having this conversation with you," her voice was a harsh whisper, "I still haven't figured you out, yet," she confessed, "Are you a friend? Are you a foe? Are you the good guy or the bad guy? I don't know."

Jefferson's jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed as he looked her over. Emma still didn't trust him and it set a fire inside of him that fueled him to move. Emma took a step back as Jefferson slowly moved off the couch, causing a sleeping Grace to slip further into the spot where her father had been. Emma took another step back as Jefferson stood to his feet.

"Emma," he breathed her name as he walked towards her, "What do I have to do to earn your trust?"

Emma's lips parted to speak but the words failed to come from her mouth as Jefferson stopped in front of her. She lifted her chin up so she could look into his blue-gray eyes, and even in the darkness of the living room she could see the desperation in them. Jefferson loomed even closer, until Emma could feel the heat of his body, and her chest heaved with accelerated breaths.

"Change the past," she told him while his eyes longingly focused on her lips, "Go back in time and un-kidnap us! Come introduce yourself to me at Granny's, instead."

The corners of Jefferson's mouth pulled up into a smile as he admiringly examined Emma's face.

"I can't do that." his voice was low and raspy as he slowly and tentatively lifted a hand towards her.

Emma took-in a sharp breath as his finger tips slide across her cheek and then behind her neck, causing her to shiver at his touch. Jefferson thirstily swallowed at the thought of kissing her. He had wanted to kiss her many times before. At first, it had been out of loneliness, but now he just wanted to get closer to Emma—to know her that much better. He just wanted her.

"We can't change the past, Emma," he said as his thumb brushed over her cheek, "But maybe I could make it up to you if you let me into your future."

Emma's eyes grew heavy-lidded as she stared at the inviting fullness of his mouth. Her hand passionately fisted in his t-shirt then, and Jefferson's jaw clenched from the restraint it took not to pull her up against him. Slowly he leaned-in, tilting his head towards her until he could feel her breath on his face and it made his blood pump with desire. Emma Swan, the sheriff, "the savior" and a princess by right of birth wanted his kiss. Jefferson gripped the back of her neck as he pulled her lips against his own.

"Papa, please!"

A jolt shot through him at the sound of Grace's voice and he turned around to see his daughter. She was still asleep on the couch, but she fidgeted under her blanket in the midst of a dream. Jefferson sighed as his pulse slowed, but behind him, Emma's pulse only seemed to quicken.

"Goodnight." she spoke quickly as she spun around to walk away, feeling ashamed of herself.

"Emma—" Jefferson pleaded as he stepped forward to go after her.

"Goodnight!" her voice was cold and stern as she went into her bedroom, alone.

In the living room, Jefferson pinched the bridge of his nose as he closed his eyes tight in frustration. He doubted it very much that he would be able to sleep. His mouth was still watering in anticipation of kissing Emma and his skin was still buzzing with the excitement of touching her. In the bedroom, Emma crawled underneath her covers and shut her eyes, trying to block-out what had just happened. Her mind told her it was wrong. It kept picking at her like it was her own personal Jiminy Cricket, but her heart and her body disagreed. She didn't know which to listen to. Behind their shut eyelids, Emma and Jefferson saw each others faces. They gave heavy sighs knowing that they'd have to face one another in the morning, and it was both exciting and dreadful...