The Disclaimer: I don't own this. Don't own Once Upon A Time, nor any of its characters: I just play with them. Which is a pity, because I would have tried to direct the series in other direction. The idea on itself is quite great, though, and I wish I had developed it before. If any characters in this story do not appear in the series, it's because they are mine.

Chapter 8

Uncomfortable Wooden Hats

The sun hits his eyes, slowly waking him from his slumber. It is a rather nice feeling, especially when combined with the fact that Emma Swan is in his embrace, her back to his front, how her hair tickles his chest, and how soft her skin is to his hands.

And when adding the great sensations her stirring as the sun also awakens her cause in him, well, he cannot say it is bad.

"Hmm," Emma moans, which he loves, and knows is the sound she makes when she does not want to wake up. "Can you turn off the sun, Graham?" she asks, still asleep.

"I can't, my Princess," he replies softly, as his right hand traces circles over her abdomen. "If I could, I'd make sure that you could sleep as much as you want."

"How can you be so chipper at this hour of the morning?" she complains.

"Because I'm used to this. And I also know that, the sooner we awake, the more things we can accomplish today." He kisses her in the base of her neck, one of those points in her body that practice has taught him can drive Emma wild.

"No, no, no, don't kiss me like that," she half moans, half begs him. He chuckles.

"Why?"

"Because then I'll need to take care of my needs, and I'll have sex with you until I get my needs sorted, and then I won't be able to claim to be asleep."

"Well, we can't have that, right?" he asks, taking the covers off the bed. He sees the goosebumps are starting to appear on Emma's skin, and she shudders a bit. "Was that too cold?"

"Yes," she replies, trying to feign irritation, but he knows she does not mean it.

"Well, if you feel really cold, there's a hot shower waiting for you."

"Oh, not only for me. For both of us. Because you, mister, really need to fix what you have just done."

"Me? What have I done?"

"You know it all too well, Graham Humbert. Your hands and your lips are the ones that woke me up, and the only way I'll be able to concentrate this morning is if they, or the rest of your body, finish the job."

"Oh, that's nice. No pressure at all," he jokes.

"Well, if you don't want to, I can always try to finish the job myself."

"You sure you won't be calling my name when you do?"

"Who knows? It will probably depend on how good you are right now." She then grabs him, he has to softly bite into her shoulder to avoid going off, especially as her hand begins to move, and now he is so turned on that he really needs to be buried into her or he will explode. His own hands start working, and they soon bring Emma to the same level of excitement he is in now.

"That's... better," Emma moans.

"Yes, it is," he growls.

"Then... make it better. You... me... shower..."

He needs no further orders from the woman he loves, and he jumps off the bed and he grabs Emma who hooks her legs around his waist and arches her neck back so that he can have total access to it because he loves kissing it and he knows it drives her wild so he does it as he carries her to the bathroom and into the shower and then he turns on the hot water and it falls all over them while he puts Emma against the wall and gives her everything she wants right now and Emma responds in kind it is a miracle he has not slipped and fallen to the floor because he wants to stay like this forever it is so intense and everything goes white andtheonlythinghecandoistofeelisblissandhappinessandsomethingelsethatismagicalandsouniquelyEmmathatheneedslikeheneedsbreathingandeatinganddrinkingwaterbecausethatiswhatheisdoingdrinkingherveryessence...

Some time later, he can feel returning back to normal time, and he can see Emma is completely flushed, heavily breathing in the air, now full of the vapor forming as the hot water touches the floor. He needs to breath the same way, try to get some oxygen into his lungs, as he attempts to recover from what he might as well say is almost a religious experience, but here the Goddess is Emma, and he is the only one that is allowed to worship her this way.

"Graham," she says, and he is a bit surprised, because she sounds really exhausted right now, even more than before.

"What?" he asks her, and he sounds just as exhausted as her. Because they have had sex in the shower, and it was so intense that he is surprised that he managed to stay on his feet while doing it.

"I love you. I love you so much," she replies, and he kisses her softly, grateful for having such a wonderful woman at his side.

"I love you too," he manages to reply.

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"For everything." She kisses him again. "Now, can you help me? We do need to shower, after all."

"You were the one that insisted on having sex in the shower," he replies, laughing, as he helps her to disentangle from his body.

"Well, you were the one that got me all hot and bothered while we were on the bed," she counters, grabbing the shampoo bottle. He takes it from her, opens it, and drops some of the shampoo on his hand.

"If you weren't so beautiful, sexy and attractive, maybe I wouldn't have decided to get you all hot and bothered." As he speaks, he starts to wash Emma's hair with the shampoo, massaging her scalp and soaping her long blonde locks, combing all of them with his fingers to take all the knots out. Seeing Emma is really relaxed, he then grabs the soap bar and lathers her body up. He kisses her body as the water cleans the away the soap, and soon he is kissing her legs as her feet are now clean.

She crouches and kisses him, bringing him up.

"My turn," she says, smiling, and he smiles down to her, letting her work her way down his body.

-OUAT-

He is very glad about having free reign in Mary Margaret's apartment for the afternoon, because what he is planning for tonight is going to be important.

His first dinner-date with Mary Margaret.

Yesterday, he interrogated Emma and Ruby on Mary's favorite dishes when they met at the diner, and then convinced Ruby to get Mary out of the apartment for a few hours and Emma to stay at Graham's for the night. He has used that time well, commandeering the kitchen, and setting up the table. Two candles, the elegant plates, two cups, a bottle of wine... he is going to make sure Mary gets the best date of her life. Which, if what he has heard from Ruby is right, should not be too hard. But he is going to make sure Mary will enjoy everything that happens tonight.

Just as he finishes preparing the last things, he hears the door getting opened, and he turns around with a smile.

"David?" she asks. She is stunned, he can see that. And her eyes show a spark, which might be a good signal.

"Hello, Mary," he replies, stepping forward and taking one of her hands with his. "I was thinking about what we could do in our first official date, and I thought that maybe we could have dinner together here. So, I worked hard, and made you some of your favorite things."

It looks like she is going to say something, but she stops and sniffs the air.

"Is that... Parmigiana chicken?"

"With a side of tagliatelle and bell peppers, a tomato salad with mozzarella, and, as dessert, treacle tart. Which I have been given to understand are among your favorite dishes."

She smiles, and a tinge of blush covers her cheeks. And it is so bright, that he knows that, even if he had not met her before, he would have fallen all over for her just because of that smile.

"All of this for me?"

"Well, for us. I do want to taste what I have cooked, after all."

Mary laughs, and it is as musical as every other time he has heard it. That is why he loves making her laugh.

"So, I guess that you convinced Ruby to tell you my tastes and then made sure she got me out of the way."

"Something like that, yes. I told her I wanted to give you a great date, and she was more than willing to help."

"I'll thank her, then. And, well, thank you, too."

"You are welcome. Now, shall we take a seat? You certainly don't want my cooking skills to go to waste."

Mary giggles, and lets herself be led to the table, where he pulls the chair back so that she can take a seat.

As they eat, they speak. They speak about their pasts, about their parents – both of them have lost theirs to illness. Mary thoroughly enjoys his cooking, and jokes that she might just keep him at her apartment just for that. He replies that he actually finds the idea appealing, and is rewarded with a small laugh and a blush.

The wine bottle is also drunk, and as the level drops, both of them become more open, more uninhibited. He shares some embarrassing anecdotes about his work at the animal shelter that he would have not let out if he were completely sober, and she laughs more, becomes more daring, and when one of her feet slips off the shoe and her toes begin slowly moving up and down his leg, he has to struggle not to stand up, take her into his arms and carry her to her bedroom to make her see the effect she is having on him.

The exquisite foot torture ends when he stands up to serve the dessert. But, somehow, it becomes worse, because tipsy Mary Margaret is quite less inhibited than sober Mary Margaret, and when she tries the tart she lets out a moan of pleasure that enters his mind and in there it is not because of the dessert, but because he has pinned her down against her bed, and they are both naked, and she moans because his lips are attached to the pulse point in her neck and his hand is between them and...

He closes his eyes and shakes his head, doing his best to eliminate the image before he gets too carried away by it.

At the other side of the table sits her, wearing a long white dress that reveals just a bit of her cleavage. Her long, coal black locks fall over her shoulders, her small smile illuminates the room as much as the candles do, and he knows that, as much as the Siren could make itself to look like her, Snow is the most beautiful and magnificent woman in the world.

He blinks, and at the other side of the table sits Mary Margaret, dressed in her favorite blue blouse and long skirt, who is smiling at him, her cheeks red, and her head tilted to a side.

"Is there something you like to see, David?" she asks, and he gulps when he hears the husky, dangerous tone in her voice.

"Yes," he replies. He is incapable of saying any lies. The part of his brain in charge of that has shut down entirely.

Her smile becomes bigger, and her eyes shine with a spark that mesmerizes him. Then she stands up, the cadence of her slow sashaying around the table draws his eyes to her hips, and he has to remind himself that he needs to breathe if he wants to keep living and worship this magnificent woman in front of him. She pushes him back in his chair, leaving space between the table and him.

"Hmm. I do like what I am seeing, as well," she says, her hands dancing over his chest, and he has to make a bigger effort to breathe.

However, that does not mean that his hands are unable to move, and they go to her waist. He manages to stand up from the chair, and Mary's eyes keep looking directly into his, her hands now grabbing his shirt. He pulls her close, leans down, and kisses her. And, even under the tastes of the dessert and the wine, he can taste her.

"I do like what I am touching, as well," he says, pretty much sending caution to the wind. The sparks are flying, and every time they breathe, their chests touch. It is almost too much.

"You do?" she asks.

"I do. A lot."

"Let's make sure then that you can touch a lot, then," she whispers into his ear, almost making him snap.

She slowly pushes him towards the couch, and when his legs touch it, she makes him sit down on it, and then she sits on his lap and starts to kiss him and he holds onto her and when her hands tangle in his hair his run all over her back and her neck and she is fantastic he needs to lay down and he does it he lays down on the couch and lets her climb over him as they keep kissing and the things she is doing to him hell he has missed this he has missed her he has missed Snow so much that it hurts thinking that they have been separated for so much already he has never felt so alive...

-OUAT-

He has just come out of school for the day, and going towards the sheriff's office. It is cloudy, and a bit ugly, but he does not mind, because he knows that this might be the signal for the first snows of winter.

Snow White is happy now, he can see it. Before Emma arrived, she did smile, and liked teaching, but he always felt she was lonely and a bit sad. But now that she has her Prince Charming back, she smiles a lot more, she is very happy, and she is never alone.

And Emma is happy, too. Since she kissed the Huntsman, she is happier. Less angry, at least. And she now believes him about the curse! With the happy endings being restored, it is only a matter of time before the Curse is finally broken.

He tries not to think of what might happen with Mom when that happens. Sure, she is the Evil Queen, she sent the Curse that trapped all the Enchanted Forest people here in Storybrooke and has made his life and that of everyone in town a bit of a hell, including him... but she is also his Mom.

So concentrated he is in his thoughts, that he does not realize what is happening until it literally falls on his head. He looks up, and smiles.

"Snow," he whispers, his grin becoming greater. "It's snowing!"

He rushes towards the office. It is snowing, and he wants Emma to see it. It is the first snow of the winter, and that is always great. Not to mention that it is quite magical.

It only takes him a few minutes to reach the office, and when he does he finds Emma and Graham are playing darts, obviously having nothing better to do while they wait for a call.

"Emma! Emma!" he says, barreling into the room.

"Hey, kid," Emma replies with a smile, catching him in his rush to hug her. "What's got you so enthusiastic?"

"It's snowing!"

"Really?" Graham asks. "I didn't know it was going to snow."

"Well, that's what the weather cast is for, to tell you what's going to happen," Emma replies, and Graham chuckles. He laughs, too. "Does it always snow this early, though?"

"More or less. There's been a couple of times I've seen snow fall in early November a few times. Well, that's from my false memories, at least, but I guess they are partially true."

"They are. It snowed two years ago like that. Can we go outside and see the snow?" He looks at Emma, and she looks at Graham.

"Don't know, depends on whether the Sheriff says we can. After all, we should be working right now."

"Well, I'm sure we might get many calls soon, so maybe we should stay inside." He is about to protest, but Graham interrupts him. "However, if we stay right off the entrance, and well wrapped up, then I don't see why we can't enjoy seeing everything."

"Great!" he shouts. He waits until Graham puts on his brown leather jacket and helps Emma to her red one, and the three of them go outside to see the snowflakes fall down, something that he always think is very beautiful.

"Hey, kid," Emma says, and he turns around. Graham has sat on the floor, and Emma is sitting between his legs, making gestures towards him. He sits on her lap, and she puts her arms around him, and Graham puts his around both of them while he puts his back against the wall.

They watch the snowflakes. He is happy to be here, with his biological mother and with the Huntsman, just watching the snow settling over Storybrooke. He feels Emma moving her arms to make sure he does not go cold, and he feels her breath in his hair.

"If it weren't for the cold, and the hard floor, this would be fantastic," Emma whispers.

"Then, the next time I'll bring a cushion for you to sit on," Graham replies.

"Thank you."

"Can we go out tomorrow and make snow angels?" he asks.

"If your mother lets you, then I don't see why we can't try."

He knows that Mom would never let him out into the snow.

Well, he can always sneak out. It is what he has been doing for years. It is almost second nature for him to use the tree to avoid his mom. Especially since Emma decided to stay in Storybrooke.

"I love you, Emma," he says, leaning further into his mother's embrace. She kisses the top of his head.

"I love you, kid," she says.

"And I love you both," Graham states. He hears him kissing her, but he does not pay attention to that. He just cares about the snowflakes falling.

-OUAT-

He cannot help but be amazed by the beautiful image in the town. Most of his life after running from the orphanage has been spent on the south and on tropical islands. Sitting on a bench in the park, he thinks about how he has missed the snow and the effect it has when it is so much that it turns an entire town white.

He is also thankful that the royalties from his books are more than enough to live with, or else he would have to find a job in here. And that would certainly put a spanner in his plans to help Emma break the Curse.

Of course, to do that, he first needs to find a way to make sure she actually believes in the Curse, lest she take him for a madman and commit him to the psychiatric hospital. And, then, of course, he needs to find a way to make sure she will not beat him after learning what he did. Though, considering what she has gone through, he guesses that he sort of deserves it.

Walking along the streets, he avoids Marco's workshop like the plague. Not because he does not want to be there, but because he knows not what he can do if he meets his father. He probably needs a bit more time until he can actually do that. In the meantime, he will explore the town, find something else about the other people in the town, perhaps some more time with Ruby...

His train of thought are interrupted when someone else sits down at the bench, next to him.

"Good morning," the man says.

He turns around, and sees that the man next to him is quite young, younger than him, in fact. He has short brown hair, blue eyes, and a wide smile in his face. Heavily dressed, maybe a bit too much, even considering how cold it is right now. A long scarf, probably rivaling Tom Baker's, covers his neck. And, in spite of the apparently friendly smile, he can tell that there is something dangerous about this man, a mad glint in his eye that says he is willing to do nasty things if you are in his way.

"Morning."

"You know, I've been living here in Storybrooke for most of my life, and I have never seen you around here. You must be new to town."

"I arrived here a couple of weeks ago, actually. This town is bigger than what it looks like. Maybe that's why we haven't seen each other yet."

"That's true," the man replies with a chuckle. He then offers a hand to him. "Name's Jefferson. Yours?"

"August," he replies, shaking hands with Jefferson.

"So, what brought you here to Storybrooke? I doubt it is for the tourist traps."

"Inspiration, actually. I'm a writer, and I figured that maybe I could travel around to get some ideas for my next book. And then, I found this town, and I quite like it."

"Curious. Very few people venture around here. Actually, in the last year, I think the only person that has come here and stayed is our Deputy."

"We have met already. She's quite nice, and it looks like she's well established here in town."

"Good. That saves me some time."

The way Jefferson is stressing the word saves sparks something in his mind. He wonders if... but no, she has not broken the curse yet. Right?

"So, what's your name?" Jefferson asks.

"I already told you."

"No. You told me the name you have here. But you haven't told me the name you had before. In the Forest."

"You remember?" he asks, astonished. Jefferson snorts.

"You ask me if I remember? That has been my curse. To remember. Can I trouble you with a visit to my house? Maybe we could speak there without a chance of being... overheard."

He thinks about it for a second, and decides that maybe he should do it. He cannot be sure of Jefferson's intentions, but, well, who knows. Maybe it could actually help.

And it was high time he actually did something brave.

-OUAT-

He watches August Booth settle on his living room's couch while he prepares some tea. Booth is certainly a bit of an enigma to him. He did not know that anyone else had managed to escape the Dark Curse save for the Savior, but it looks like at least one extra person did. He has to wonder about whether more people from the Enchanted Forest managed to travel to this world without magic at some point or another.

"Do you want something to drink?"

"If you don't have a beer, I have no problem with some of that tea."

He quickly locates a beer in his fridge, noticing that he should probably buy some milk soon, and hands it to the other man, right as his teapot starts to whistle. He puts some in a teacup and immerses some tea leaves in it.

"So, who are you, actually?" he asks the man.

"I'm Pinocchio," Booth says.

"Geppetto's child?" That was... unexpected. Knowing what he knows, he figured that the child would have become a puppet again. Looks like it did not happen, after all.

"Yeah. My father... he didn't know what would happen to me with the Curse, so he sent me just ahead of Emma. He asked me to take care of her, but..."

"You left her?" He cannot believe that he would be so careless so as to do that.

"I know it will sound as if I am trying to make excuses, but I was seven. I know I shouldn't have left her behind. I was selfish that day, and since then I was completely unable to find her for years. It was pure chance that I found out where she was ten years ago, and the only thing I did was to screw her up again."

"I guess you mean her stint in prison." It is not a secret in town that Emma Swan spent nearly a year in prison. The Mayor has made sure that a good part of her past was posted, front page, on the local newspaper. He bets it is because of the Sheriff's choice to stop having sex with her. And, of course, the Savior did not let that affect her at all.

"Yeah. She was with a man from our world when I found her, you know."

"Who?"

"Rumplestiltskin's son. Turns out he crossed over to our world using a magic bean. Not sure if it was direct travel or not, but he certainly arrived here right on time to be with Emma and leave her pregnant."

"Holy shit," he says, shocked, overwhelmed by August's revelation.

Henry Mills.

Is.

Rumplestiltskin's.

Grandson.

Things just got really complicated.

He is glad that they are not in the Enchanted Forest right now, because, if they were, Henry would pretty much wear a bullseye in his back, attracting every would-be kidnapper in hundreds of kilometers around. How often can you find a way to control the most famous royal couple and the notorious Dark One himself at the same time? Of course, whoever was stupid enough to try that would probably have to begin planning his own funeral.

"Yeah. I can hardly imagine how hard it was for Emma to go through prison, the pregnancy and giving up Henry. And, well, I was never any good at protecting her. I ran away again, and I didn't return until I... I started to feel turning back into wood." He lifts his pants' leg, and he sees how what should be flesh and bone is instead wood from the tree Gepetto had carved Pinocchio from.

"Well, karma's certainly a bitch," he replies, thinking about how true that sentence is, especially when applied to him.

"That's where I am. I'm trying to pay back for that, though. How did you manage to recover your memories of the Forest?"

"Simple. I never forgot. Everyone here was cursed in some way, apart from making everyone lose their memories. Prince Charming was in a coma and married to Princess Abigail. Princess Snow White was almost always alone. Red Riding Hood is a waitress wearing skimpy clothes, always attracting every lech in town. Prince Thomas and Princess Ella were forced to be separated. And I remember two lives."

"Damn, that must suck."

"Yes. And, if you don't mind, there was something I wanted to talk about. It is very important, and if we don't do anything, something bad will happen."

"What is it?"

"There's a man called Bert Carter. Don't know who he was in the Forest, never met him. Here, he works at the cannery, but he used to steal things. He stopped a few years ago, before he met his girlfriend, Sarah Turner, a secretary at the Town Hall. A few days ago, one of the Queen's men in here met with him. I am not one hundred percent sure, but I believe that Bert was being blackmailed into killing either the Sheriff or the Savior."

"How do you know that?"

"I'm not bad at at reading lips. And I happen to have a great telescope."

"Which I do hope has never been pointed at me during my time alone."

"Does it count if I saw you as you rolled into town?"

"Don't think so."

"Good, then."

Silence falls between them, for a few seconds.

"Do you know if Emma believes?" August asks.

"I don't know. I have never had the chance to speak with the Savior since she arrived. I do know that her child is working to help her believe. Although, I do have some suspicions that she might already believe."

"Really?"

"Really. Though, I can't be completely sure about it, so best if we assume that she has yet to."

"Any plans to make her believe?"

"Nothing definite, but we can work something out."

-OUAT-

It is Friday night, and he finds himself in the usual haunt, the Rabbit Hole, for a drink and maybe a chance to find a girl to have some time with. It has been the way he has spent most Friday nights for several years, since his girlfriend Abby broke up with him and left town. Since that fateful night, he has never had a serious relationship, only a few one-night stands, but he still longs for a connection with a woman. Someone that can be to him what he can see now between the Sheriff and the Deputy, or Mary Margaret Blanchard and David Nolan.

In the semi-darkness of the bar, he can make his way to the counter rather easily, although he has to avoid a few couples that are either dancing with great enthusiasm or just about leaving the place, probably to get some lonely time together in one of the bar's dark corners or in their homes. He recognizes a few of his older pupils around, and he would have told them off for being here, but he thinks that, maybe, he should not break their fun, at least not today. Maybe he will have them do a few extra laps the next week.

"Jack, put me a beer," he tells the man behind the counter.

"What kind?"

"Surprise me," he replies. Jack chuckles, and rummages for a few moments, handing him a stout green bottle from the local brewery. "Wow, you certainly surprised me." He laughs, and hands him a fiver, getting the change back into his pocket.

"Give me one of the same, if you don't mind," a woman says right next to him. He turns, and he sees the beautiful princess with hair of gold and shining smile he loves, leaning over a wooden table, her blue-green eyes sparkling in merriment while they look at him, and he wants to take her hand and then take her into his arms to kiss Kathryn Nolan. She has been in his mind a lot lately, ever since they met at the school.

"Hello, Kathryn," he says.

"Hello, Jim. How are you?"

"Quite well. Though, I should be asking you. How are you?"

"Could be better." She picks her beer and gulps about half of it in one round. "Been a silent house since David left."

"Sorry about that."

"Meh." She does not sound very convincing, though. He can tell. Somehow.

"What brings you here, then?"

"Needed some noise to make up for the lack of it at home."

"And you chose to come here?"

"About as good a place as any."

They keep talking. He makes sure to distract her enough not to drink too much, and asks Jack to put some chips for them both, to reduce the effect alcohol is having on both of them. He knows Kathryn – now Kathryn Gryffith – is an adult and that she can do whatever she wants, but he also wants to make sure she does not drink too much. He certainly does not want to see her falling in an ethylic coma.

An hour later, she says she has had enough, and decides to return home. After the good time he has enjoyed with her, making her laugh and laughing with her, he chooses to follow her, because he wants to help her arrive home in one piece, and because he knows he will not be able to enjoy the rest of the night here at the bar.

"Always the knight, I see," Kathryn says when she realizes he is but a step behind her.

"Of course. Have to do my best to maintain my reputation, after all. And, besides, it's not funny if you aren't there."

Kathryn laughs, and he laughs with her. He cannot be sure if it is really because he wants to, or if it is the alcohol doing it. Either way, he realizes it does not matter, because he likes it. He likes this feeling. It has been years since he has felt this happy. Not since... Abby.

They reach her house. It is quite nice, and beautiful, but it does lack... something. He cannot put his finger on what. But there is definitely something missing in there.

"Do you want... to come in? Have some coffee?" Kathryn asks. He smiles, and shakes his head. The offer does sound tempting, but he knows better. If he accepts, he would rather do it when he knows her better and when both of them are fully sober.

"No. It's late. And I think you need to rest. However, if you want, we can talk tomorrow."

"Well. It was a nice night, anyway," she replies with another smile. Kathryn takes his hand, and kisses him in the cheek. "Good night, my knight," she whispers.

"Good night, my knight," she whispered.

"Good night, my lady," he replied.

"Good night, my lady," he replies, kissing the back of her hand.

She nods at him, smiling, and she enters her house. He looks as she does it, watching her back as she moves away from him.

And, now, he wishes he could be following her into that house.

-OUAT-

She arrives home after a long day of work at the town hall. It is sometimes quite hard, because the Mayor is not exactly the best boss, especially lately, since Emma Swan arrived to town. Half the time, Mayor Mills is in a bad humor because she seems to see the Deputy's mere existence as an insult towards her. Sometimes, it gets even worse.

Fortunately, her job as the town hall secretary means that she is mostly 'beneath notice' for the Mayor, and that she can also sneak to search for paperwork to do if she senses the need to avoid the woman. About the few things that make for that are the pay and seeing certain people come and go.

That is when she finally arrives home – her father's home, actually, Bertie and her are still saving for their own house and the wedding, so they are living with her father – and smiles when she smells.

"I'm home!" she calls out. Her father, short, just a little too fat and with his short beard, comes out of the kitchen and into the living room wearing his "King of the Kitchen" apron.

"Hello, my little flower," he answers, smiling, and walking towards her. "How was your day?"

"Hello, Papa," she replies, hugging him and kissing him in the cheek. "Not bad. At least, today Regina was not as bad as normally."

"I'm glad about it. Never liked that woman. And then, all this business about the Deputy..." He shakes his head. "Still trying to wrap my head around that."

She snorts, knowing what her father is talking about. She was not there to hear it, but she had heard from some of the patrons that Deputy Swan had intimated about the Mayor being sexually attracted to her. She can pinpoint the exact day when that rumor reached the Mayor's ears, because that day she was in an even worse mood than normally, and she only managed to avoid her by 'losing' a lot of paperwork and looking for it at the archives.

"How about your day? Did you get your pills?"

"My day was excellent, as always. I'm glad you talked me into just becoming manager of the restaurant, it is far better, and I have time to make my best recipes. And, yes, I got my pills. I still hate having to take them."

"You know it's the best thing for your heart, Papa."

"Doesn't mean I have to like it."

"I know. Did Bert come here already?"

"Yes, he did. Just a couple of minutes before you, in fact. He said he would get changed and come down as soon as possible."

"Thanks, Papa. I'm going upstairs as well. We'll help you with dinner, OK?"

"Yes, Sarah. Just, don't take too much time with him, I wish to have a hot dinner with you two tonight."

"Don't worry. I'll make sure Bert doesn't take too much time."

She walks upstairs, wondering what her boyfriend, Bert, is doing. These last few weeks, she has noted a slight change in his behavior. He has become a bit morose, a bit sad. He tries to hide it, but she can tell.

When she enters the room they share – to this day, she is still grateful that her father was so understanding with Bert's situation and allowed him to live with them – she sees that Bert is sitting on their bed, his head on his hands.

Not good.

"Bertie?"

He looks up, and he smiles, but it is a bit forced. Very much not good. Whatever has put him in this bad mood, it must have begun to crash

"Hi, Sarah. How was your day?"

"Quite well. What has you like this?"

"What do you mean?"

"Don't try to play stupid. You know it doesn't work on me." He chuckles, and she sits next to him. "What's the problem, honey? I know you, and I know something's wrong."

"You were always a fast learner," he replies.

"Whatever it is, Bert, please, tell me." She is imploring him.

"It's... it's bad."

She knows somehow that, whatever it is, it is not just 'bad'. She is not stupid: she knows what Bert went through when he was young. He had to steal almost daily to be able to carry on through most of his life. Always small, but he still got caught many times. Fortunately, not enough to get him sent to prison. But when Sheriff Graham caught him when he was eighteen and told him that, if he did not clean his clock, he was going to get in big trouble, he did. He finished his studies, he got a job and he broke all contact with his former 'clients'. The only problem was that, with less cash, he was unable to pay rent, and he got kicked out. By then, she was already involved with him, and when she explained her father the situation, he had pretty much ordered her to bring him to their house.

"Did they threaten you?" she asks. He shakes his head.

"You. And your father."

She swallows a gasp.

"You... why didn't you tell me before? Or better, Sheriff Graham?"

"I... I just can't... I can't..." His voice cracks, and when she looks at him, he can see his eyes are red.

She kisses him softly. She understands him. She and her father are all he has for family, and he is so attached to them he would probably do anything for them. However, if what he has been asked to do is so horrible, then she has to put a stop to it.

"Bertie, honey, whatever it is they are asking you to do, don't. Tell the Sheriff, or the Deputy."

"If I tell them... they'll be going after you."

Well, if he does not go, she will. If he is worried about her, she is worried about him. And she is not going to let him do something stupid.

-OUAT-

This is turning out to be a depressing day already. And he has not tried a drop of alcohol, yet.

Of course, the fact remains that it is ten in the morning, and he does not usually drink at this hour. He prefers to save that for the evening.

Either way, it is a depressing day.

Tomorrow is Miner's Day. And, while the rest of the town celebrates, he does not. Because it reminds him too much of his old job in the mines, which he, unlike many others, loved. Because it reminds him of the day the mines were closed, as 'it was not profitable to continue exploiting them', as the asshole from the company said five minutes after saying everyone was fired, and five minutes before he got chased out of town by the entire workforce, intent on presenting the bastard to one of their pickaxes.

Since then, he has had lots of different jobs. Right now, he is working at the hospital and at the garage, plus some sidejobs. Enough to feed him and pay the rent. And the alcohol. And the bills from being arrested. He knows it is not healthy to drink so much... but it is the only way he can push away his pain, at least for the night.

He is now at the nunnery, helping to fix the lights. He pays little attention to what the nuns do. Pretty much as he does with everything else. Unless it affects him directly, he does not like to place his attention on it.

He finishes with the lights, and comes down the stairs, nodding at another good job.

And then an explosion of glitter falls all over him.

"Oh, no, no, no, sorry, sorry, sorry," a woman says, coming down from another set of stairs. He cannot see what is happening, because the glitter is still floating, and he has chosen to close his eyes to avoid it getting into his eyes. He feels a hand carefully wiping off the glitter off his face. "OK, I think all the glitter is off your face, you can open your eyes."

He does so, and he meets a fairy, young and beautiful a young nun, probably on her twenties. Even under the habit, she is pretty, and her brown eyes show enthusiasm for life, something he lacks already.

"I'm sorry, sir, I swear I didn't want to do it, but the bag slipped my hand and..."

"Don't worry," he replies, trying to keep the gruff out of his voice. "'Twas an accident. Everybody has those."

"Still, I'm really sorry about this."

"Hey, Sister, don't worry. No harm done."

"Thank you," she says, a worried smile in her features. "My name is Astrid."

"Nice to meet you, Sister Astrid. I'm Leroy," he replies. There is something about Astrid that makes him smile, which is something that hardly happens anymore.

"I already knew that. You have been really nice with helping us with the lights."

"Just doing my job."

"Astrid," one of the nuns – the Mother Superior, in fact – says as she approaches them. "I need you to write up the order for the supplies. I'd do it myself, but I am busy with the organization. Can you take care of it?"

"Yes, Mother Superior," Astrid replies politely. The woman leaves, and Astrid turns to him. "I'm sorry, Leroy, but I need to do this soon. Maybe we can speak later?"

"Of course," he replies. "Make sure to double-check the numbers before sending that order."

"Sure," she says before leaving.

Well, maybe this day will not be as bad as he thought.

-OUAT-

It is mid-day. The town is abuzz with the preparations for tomorrow, Miner's Day, Storybrooke's local holiday. And, of course, they are now quite busy with making sure that there are no problems during the day.

She is going to make sure that there is as little reason to step into the sheriff's office tomorrow as possible. Sure, Graham is going to reroute the office calls to his cellular, but hopefully they will not be receiving any calls tomorrow.

Fortunately, most of what she intends to use tomorrow night is among her things, and she intends to make sure that the night is one Graham will never forget. After all, given that she plans to spend ten straight hours with him without getting out of the bedroom as celebration for their first month together, there are many things she can do to him and that he can do to her.

The door opens, and in enters a woman, dressed with a deep blue jacket and jeans, that she is sure she has seen a couple of times at the town hall.

"Sarah?" Graham asks.

"Graham, I need your help," the newcomer says, clearly nervous.

"OK, sit down. Do you want something to drink?"

"If you have some tea..."

Graham stands up. "Emma, do you mind picking some documents while I start the kettle?"

"Sure," she tells him, and grabs the papers she thinks they are going to need for this, because it sounds like this Sarah plans to say something important. She then begins to write down Sarah's name, address and other things for the file.

Graham comes back soon with a mug covered with a plate and hands it to Sarah.

"So, what's the problem, Sarah? Is it Bert?" Graham asks, clearly worried.

"Yeah. Well, I think there's something wrong with him. Not with him. I mean, I think they are blackmailing him to do something bad. He wouldn't tell me what they wanted him to do, only that they would go after me and my father if he didn't do whatever he's supposed to."

"Do you know something else about it? Like, when he is supposed to do that thing?"

Sarah shakes her head, and Graham takes some notes on the documents in front of him while Sarah sips on her tea. Graham asks her more questions, to which she replies as truthfully as she can, and by the time she has finished her tea, they have everything down.

"Well, I wish I had more, but with what we have it might be enough to put a watch on him."

"You aren't going to arrest him?" Sarah asks. She sounds a bit surprised.

"No. Mostly, because, if we do that, whoever is blackmailing him might decide to either do whatever thing he is being blackmailed for on his own, or go after you and your father. If we keep an eye on him, then maybe we can catch him before he acts, and also find the blackmailer," she replies.

"Oh. Well, thank you for your help. And, please, try to find the blackmailer soon, before Bert does whatever he was asked to do."

"Don't worry, Sarah."

Sarah stands up, and Graham shows her to the door while she finishes writing the last few words for the file.

"So, who's Bert?" she asks when Graham comes back from the door.

"He's a kid former Sheriff Alan and me arrested a few times when he was in his teens. He stole things to survive, almost like you did. The last time I caught him, I told him that he had to stop doing it, or he could go to prison. Since then, he got cleaned up, got a job, and he lives now with Sarah and her father."

"And... in the Enchanted Forest?"

Graham shrugs. "I don't know. There were many lands in there that I never visited, and I don't know which ones could have been affected by the curse."

She cannot help but feel a bit bad about that.

"So, how do we go with the whole vigilance? Because I doubt you and I will be able to keep a 24-hour watch on him."

"Well, Sarah's going to keep an eye on him when he is at home, and I am sure that he is not going to be doing much while he is on working hours, so it is a safe bet that we won't have to watch him the full day."

"Oh, good," she replies. "I do hope that you are planning on a long night tomorrow, then."

"What? What long night?" Graham asks.

"That's for me to know, and for you to find about..." she sing-songs to him.

-OUAT-

She loves Miner's Day. The town's main square becomes really beautiful with the little lights that hung over everyone's heads like fairies. There are many small stands where people sell things, among them the nuns, who use the proceedings to pay for the small programs they run, as well as a bit for the maintenance of their nunnery.

She has volunteered to do this, like she does every year, but this time it is better, because she has a companion: she has managed to convince David to join her in selling candles. They have had a lot of fun, and David has done a lot of great work getting people to buy boxes of candles to decorate their houses.

It is dark now, so dark that the decorative lights are not enough to illuminate the place, so she decided to light a candle from the box she has bought herself. Almost as a joke, David used her candle to light his, but then they looked at each other, having the same idea at the same time, and they started to go around, lighting other people's candles and convincing them to do the same. In just a few minutes, they actually choose to just turn off the electric lights, and the entire street market is illuminated with just the candles.

"Thanks for everything, David," she tells him, smiling.

"Well, I couldn't just let the chance to spend the evening with you go," David replies with a matching smile. "We are helping a good cause. And I can give all single men in this town envy at the fact that I am with the most beautiful woman in town."

She laughs, and her cheeks blush at the sudden compliment. "Well, that's a good reason as any other. And, well, tonight Emma's staying with Graham, so, if you want, you could come to my house."

Even if, in the current darkness, his pupils are already open, her comment makes them open even more, so much that there is only a thin blue line around a large black spot in the center of his eyes.

"Are you sure we can't sneak out right now?" he asks. His husky, low voice sends a bolt of desire through her.

"Not yet, David," she replies, even if she wants to say yes. "But soon, when we get this wrapped up."

"Good." Mindful of the candles, David stands right in front of her and gives her a long kiss that makes her lose every sense of her self for a few seconds. "Just needed to do that as warming for tonight, if you are willing."

"If you give me more kisses like those, then I can say for certain that I might be willing," she replies, cheekily.

"Hey, Mary, David." Emma arrives all of a sudden, and then she looks at the two of them. "Did I interrupt something?" she asks.

"Something," David says, his arm around her waist. "But it can be continued later."

"OK. So, how's the night going here?"

"Quite well, Emma, thank you," she replies. "I see you don't have a candle. Do you want one?"

"Oh, Graham already bought a box of them. It's just that we are doing our patrols, and carrying a candle while doing that is not easy. They will eventually get a good use, don't worry."

"Oh. Well, I do hope you like them."

Emma grins. "So, one question. I know you are celebrating Miner's Day, but, why is it called Miner's Day?"

"Remember the mines? Well, a few hundred years ago, a man called Leopold White found a coal vein in this region, and the first people to live here were him, his family and the people he hired to work in the mines. This attracted more people, like merchants, a couple of priests... and soon, they were pretty much a town without a name. They were trying to decide a name when Leopold's daughter went missing. They found her near the river, reading a story book, and from there, one of the people thought about Storybrooke, and everyone like the idea so much that it was picked."

"Ooh, that's a good story," Emma replies.

"It is in the honor of those first miners that we call this day Miner's Day, since they were the town founders. Even if the mines have been closed for more than a decade already, we still remember them."

"And if anybody doubts that you are a good teacher, this shows that those people are wrong," David says. Emma laughs.

"Indeed. I can see why Henry loves your classes."

She blushes, but does not lose her smile.

"Emma?"

"Hey, Graham," she says when she sees the Sheriff.

"Hi, David, Mary Margaret, how's it going?"

"Not bad. We are sold out on the candles, actually."

"Really? That's great," Graham says, smiling, and then turning to Emma. "We gotta go, Emma."

"We have to find him, don't we?"

"Yeah. Sorry for stealing Emma, Mary, but this is sheriff business."

"Oh, don't worry. If you have to do your job, best if you go now. Good luck!"

"Thank you," Emma says, and the two of them leave.

"So, is there anything you want to do?" David asks.

"Yeah. Why don't we check a few of the stores, and then we go to my house?"

"Anything you want, my queen."

She laughs again, and they walk around the square.

-OUAT-

This is his only chance. And he cannot screw it up.

He knows he is going to get in a lot of trouble, particularly considering that, no matter who he hits, the other will go after him. And killing both of them would probably not help much, either, because most of the people in town would really do anything to find out who did it.

Yeah, he was told to make it look like an accident. But he does not have an idea on how that would happen. And he has no other choice but to try. If something happens to Sarah, or to her father Ryan, he is sure he will not be able to stand the pain. Particularly if it is both of them that suffer.

Between someone he barely knows, and his family, he will take his family any time.

Even if it goes against everything he has always believed in.

He has seen the two of them leaving the main square, so he follows. As they walk, they are leaving the people behind, and the streets are getting empty, but for the three of them.

He has his gun on the holster, and he is trembling.

I have to do it, I have to do it, I have to do it, he chants in his mind, trying to convince himself to actually go through it.

They turn into a back alley. He cannot believe his luck, even if he wishes to be unlucky tonight. He waits a few seconds and goes after them.

"Bert, drop your weapon," Graham says, his weapon out, but pointing to the ground.

He immediately takes his gun out and points at him. At them, because Deputy Swan is a few steps to Graham's right, also with her gun out.

"Seriously, why, when we tell you to drop the weapon, you actually bring it up?" Deputy Swan asks, and he is sure it is a rhetorical question.

"I... I can't," he replies. "I have to do it."

"Bert, I know you. I know that you abhor even the idea of hurting someone. When you stole, you always made sure to do it when the owners were not at their houses. You never fought back whenever I caught you, and you got cleaned up. You have a wonderful girlfriend and a father-in-law that love you, and a good job. Hurting either of us will not help neither you nor your family, despite what you may have been told."

He is surprised. "What?"

"We know you are being blackmailed, Bert. And I guess you have been asked to kill us, right?"

Only one person could have known about his being blackmailed and told them. "Sarah spoke with you guys?"

"She was worried about you. She knew you had been pulled into this, and hoped we would be able to find out what was wrong. Please, just... drop the gun. You tell us everything you know about whoever blackmailed you, and we will protect you and your family."

"You... you can't protect my family! They are too powerful!"

"Easy there, Bert," Graham says. "Drop the weapon, calmly, before you do anything you will regret."

"What's going on here?" Someone says from behind him. A man, he knows, but he does not dare turn around to look.

"Get out of here!" Deputy Swan shouts at the man.

"And leave you two here? I don't think so."

He feels it just a second before the man behind him jumps on him, trying to grab his gun.

They struggle, and he punches him so hard everything goes black.

The last thing he hears is a shot ringing in the air.

A/N: well, this is the newest chapter! I hope that the wait was not too long for you guys. And, as you can see, things change, but also stay similar. (And, well, I am sure that now you will be on edge trying to discover who arrived and if the bullet hit anyone :D)

A few things before saying something important.

First, sorry for taking so much time in writing this chapter.

Second, my apologies for the previous chapter's confusion over Sarah Turner. All references to Jade and Cassie that you may have read there are meant to be Sarah Turner, and have been modified to do so. The reason for so many names in there is because I was trying to find a good name that wasn't too obvious and yet made references to the character. And, too, I'm a bit sad that no one commented on the joke August made.

About Graham's comment over his false memories... my theory is that the memories people had changed daily. Time would have passed normally, but no one would age a day, and their memories would be changed each day, adding details from what had happened the previous day, and pushing everything back. For example, when 9/11 happened, everyone's routine would have certainly been affected, but then as time passed their memory of that day would have been pushed back in their timeline, and by the time Emma arrived (2011?) they would remember it as something that happened 10 years ago. Ashley, for example, would have seen it as an eighteen year old, but by the time Emma arrived, she would be remembering it happened when she was eight. In my opinion, this neatly explains how Regina played things, and part of how Henry realized what was going on.

About Jefferson: according to Once – The Untold Stories, Jefferson is 29. I'm not sure of how old Grace/Paige is, but I'd say she's around Henry's age, perhaps a bit younger. Though, that would mean that Grace was born when Jefferson became 19, and that muddles the timeline around a lot, since he is supposed to be an adult a few years before Grace was born.

Kathryn's surname: I just went and picked her actress' surname, because no surname I could come up with that made some kind of reference to Abigail sounded good.

And now, here comes my newest recommendation for OUAT fanfic reading: "When I Find You, I'll Find Me" by WickedSong (Story ID: 8569175). When Regina ripped the Huntsman's heart, she unwittingly helped him stay eternally young, although a slave to her whims. When Regina tried to cast the Dark Curse, it failed, as Henry was deathly ill when she did it. Now, Princess Emma is a twenty year old girl whose only want is the freedom to make her own choices, and the Huntsman is still young, but broken by twenty-four years of slavery. When Emma sneaks into the forest to get some time to herself, she meets the Huntsman, who saves her life. The Evil Queen makes then a plan: to use Princess Emma's heart to enact a Dark Curse that will last forever. And she is perfectly willing to use the Huntsman as her instrument...

Now, the reviews! I've got 12, which is very, very good, better than last chapter, at least. I hope to see many more reviews for this chapter!

Princesakarlita411: I'm glad you liked it, and hope you like this one as well.

diddykongfan: don't worry. For obvious reasons, it's not going to work. Regina didn't learn about Emma dying causing the curse to break until "An Apple Red As Blood", when Gold tells her to be careful about how to get rid of Emma. And about the new characters... well, this chapter's clues might be good enough.

Larka Rinna Luna: it's a character that has yet to appear in the series, but he is Disney. And I have given a couple of clues about his identity already.

Isabella Populous: yes, I always take much care in making sure the grammar is correct. I'm not perfect, of course, and sometimes something slips up, but mostly I am happy with the grammar. And the plot takes some pain to make sure it fits well with the rest of the story, but it is worth it.

HinekoAkahi: Nope, it's not Tarzan. Jane Porter has already appeared as a teacher, and the name at the end of the chapter was not the one I wanted to put there, as I explained above. I haven't thought about the HP world, but I'd probably put it as another world.

IceTear1: I'm glad you liked this :)

Dreamingdreams: thank you very much for your kind comments :). Gold's favor will become important. Gold hasn't tried to get even with Regina because he doesn't want to tip his hand off. The scene with the newspaper and Emma commenting that maybe Regina is after her is to point out the unlikeliness of the whole Swan Queen fandom, which frankly baffles me a lot. Graham defending his wolf brother came naturally to me, because I felt that, when Emma told Graham that the wolf made her crash, he would be willing to do that. Jefferson is planning now for that approach, but so far he isn't sure about what way to go (which is why he talks with August before). And, well, about Sarah... you have seen it now.

phnxgirl: I'm glad you like this story and how things are changing. Jefferson and Emma will meet in the next chapter.

misscam: I'm happy that you liked that part! I worked it to be as intense as possible, as it would befit the first kiss of Prince Charming and Snow White. I hope that you like this chapter's Snowing scene as much as that one. And no prob about the rec, I think your fic is really good.

Guest: well, I kinda believe that, sometimes, people are more intelligent than what they are credited for, so I'm ensuring they actually follow on the intelligent choices.

onceuponatimeismylife: there is a reason why Snowing has yet to reach the same level as Gremma, and that is because I figure that David would be wanting to completely woo her before taking that step, although it is going faster than he probably expected, as you can guess by the Mary/David scene. I'd say that next chapter might be where they reach the next base...

RleFay: I'm glad that you think the same thing as I did, and that you think so highly of this chapter. About Neal... well, I do not hate him. Sure, he did make a huge mistake in letting Emma go, but that doesn't make him evil. He probably does not have the best of feelings in regards to his father or magic, but I doubt he would be as you think.