"Okay, I only have a few minutes while my Mom's at the store," Anna said, sliding into the chair across from Finn. "And I have to get up if a customer comes."
"Understood," Finn reassured her. "What can you tell me?"
"I can't tell you where she lives or anything," Anna warned. "Or give you her phone number."
"You don't have to. I know where she works." He pointed out.
"And I'm going to tell Bryony you're here, so don't think about following her home or something."
"Your concern for your friend is admirable. I only want to meet her and speak with her, you have my word." He held a hand to his heart, looking earnest.
"Okay, so she's twenty-five, and she hasn't got a boyfriend right now. And she likes to sing and she's a really good writer."
"How long has she been here - in this city?" He clarified.
"Since I've known her, and I think her whole life."
"What are her parents like?"
"Dead. Her mom died a long time ago, and her Dad died a few months back. Her dad was a college professor, and I'm not sure what her mom was."
"I see." Finn stroked his beard, thinking. "Anything else?"
Anna shrugged. "Just that I've never seen her react to a guy like she did with you. She gets plenty of guys asking her out, but she doesn't stay with them long. I think she's..." Anna leaned in, whispering, "Emotionally guarded."
"You don't say."
"Seriously. You have no idea." She leaned back in her chair, smiling. "You rattled her. And she's never rattled. So...what's your game plan?"
He turned his coffee cup in his hands. "It's simple enough. You introduce us, and she and I have a conversation."
Anna made a face. "That's boring."
"Sorry, love," Finn apologized. "Can't do much more without scaring her off. I suppose I'll just have to win her over with my charm."
"You need a romantic gesture," Anna said, emphatically. "Go buy her some flowers or something. She may not show it to everyone, but she's a romantic at heart." She looked out the cafe window, and quickly got to her feet. "I gotta go. But seriously, get flowers. And come back at five."
"Get flowers, back at five. Got it." He gave her a nod.
"And in the meantime, read through this." She reached in her back pocket, pulling out a small notebook. "This is just some of her writing. She's got a couple of stories in here."
He took the small, spiral-bound notebook from her. "I'll look it over."
"Once you read them, you'll see. She's romantic. She just doesn't show it so good." She gave him a smile and flounced off to her spot behind the counter, just as her mother came through the door. Finn gave a chuckle and reached for his coffee again. He opened up the notebook, and began to read.
###
The man was stuffing a satchel full of provisions, taking care to lock up any remaining supplies and pull the shutters and draperies on the windows. He was just about to snuff the candle out when a voice startled him badly.
"Going somewhere?"
He swallowed hard, eyeing the open door behind her. "I'm terribly sorry," He said with a forced smile. "But I'm closing until further notice."
Emma walked into the tavern a little further, glancing around. "Business that bad?"
He eyed her warily. "Yes. It always is." He gave an exaggerated shrug. "There's only so long you can bleed out a stone, as they say."
"I thought you couldn't afford to leave." Emma raised her brows.
"I - I can't. I'm just taking a short holiday. Getting away for a few days. That's all."
"Hmmm."
Emma leaned back against a nearby table. "Well, I can help your profit for the day. I'm looking for some information. I'm even willing to pay for it. And as the owner of the only tavern in town, odds are you know something I want to hear."
"Oh, I doubt that," He said nervously, eyeing the door once again. "I mind my own business. Always have."
She crossed her arms, tilting her head to one side as she studied him. "Who owned the bar before you?"
He looked away. "It was a family business and the family left a long time ago. They left the place boarded up, but entrusted me with the key, in case they ever returned. They never did, and I needed a way to feed myself, so I keep it for them."
Emma stepped forward. "My name is Emma."
"Brandt." He answered, with a slight bow of his head. "Why did you come here, Emma?"
"My husband and I visited here once, and wanted to return to see it again. The kingdom was so beautiful. And we also found something that we felt should be returned to the rightful owner. A ring."
Brandt's eyes widened slightly. "A ring?"
"The one my son was wearing. You noticed it."
Brandt looked taken aback. "He's your son?"
She waved her hand dismissively. "My mother is the same age as me. Nothing should surprise you in the Enchanted Forest."
He immediately perked up. "You're from the Enchanted Forest?"
"That's right," Emma affirmed. "I'm sort of a princess."
Realization dawned on him immediately. "You're Princess Emma. Daughter of Snow White."
"Yes."
He smiled widely.
"I've been wanting to meet you for years." He beamed. "We're cousins."
###
Bryony walked into the coffee shop at 4:50, and exactly eleven seconds later, she walked right back out. It didn't do her any good. He caught up with her as she rounded the corner, catching her by the elbow.
"Wait! Bryony, please." He let go of her arm and she stood tensely looking at him.
"How do you know my name?"
"Your friend. Anna."
She rolled her eyes. "Anna. Of course." She shoved her hands in the back pockets of her jeans. "What do you want?"
He rubbed the back of his neck. "I only want to speak with you. I would have done so last night, but you ran from me." He raised his brows in a thoroughly chastising look.
"Yeah...about that..."
"Listen," He began, "I was a good sport about you hitting me in the face with - "
"Whipped cream guy! Oh my God!"
He threw up his hands in exasperation. "Will everyone stop calling me that? I'd like to choose my own monikers, thank you." He took a deep breath, pasting on a placid, easygoing smile. "Now. Why did you run from me?"
Bryony's mind spun frantically. What to tell him? She couldn't very well say: Well, the thing is, I've dreamed about you for practically my entire life. That I feel like I know you already. That I was expecting green eyes, but not that green. Dammit.
She forced her shoulders back. "I was embarrassed. Because of our little...incident."
"You ran like that because of a little whipped cream?" He asked incredulously.
Bryony shrugged. "I'm shy."
His eyes narrowed. "You're lying. And I can tell."
"I have to go to work," She said. "Goodbye Finn."
She stalked off back to the cafe, and Finn watched her go with his arms crossed and his jaw set. Something wasn't adding up with the girl. And she'd just let herself slip.
Because he hadn't told her his name.
He followed her, taking a seat at an empty table again in sight of the door. The owner gave him a friendly wave and he responded with a smile and a nod. Bryony was behind the counter, trying her hardest to act like he wasn't there. She obviously had plans to ignore him all night. It would have amused him normally, but he was on a schedule and this overly-dramatic girl was setting him back.
He studied her carefully, scanning for clues.
She was passably pretty enough, he supposed. Thick red hair, big blue eyes, and legs that would turn many a man's head, if it weren't for her manner. She seemed not just immune to his charm, but positively determined to repel him in spite of it - a circumstance he'd never really experienced before. She was hiding something, he was more than sure of it, and he needed to get to the bottom of it before he took her back to the Northern Kingdom.
Once he'd straightened all that out, his destiny would be fulfilled, he'd feel more centered, and then it was back to the Jolly Roger and the Enchanted Forest. Back to drinks and carousing with friends, dinner with his family, playing with his niece and nephew, sailing with the wind at his back, stormy seas and far-off lands. Back to the life he'd had, but with his destiny fulfilled.
He rubbed his jaw. But how to reach the girl? He'd read her stories - the first about a woman who slayed a dragon and the second about a gemstone that could destroy a whole town. They were quite good, really. Anna was right - she had a gift with words - but he didn't see anything helpful within the words themselves. He still had no idea what she was about.
"No luck, huh?"
Finn looked up at Anna, who was holding out her hand for his coffee cup. "I can refill that for you," She said. "But if you're going to be here all night, you'd better stop after this one or you'll be awake until tomorrow."
"Thank you," He said, handing her the cup. He glanced across at Bryony again, or more accurately at her back, since she refused to turn and risk actually looking at him.
"Did you read the stories?" She asked.
"I did. And you're right. She's good."
"She just finished a new one today. It's about a Bandit girl and a Prince and they're fighting trolls - only the bandit girl, see, she's secretly a princess in hiding," She beamed. "It's wonderful."
"She and the Prince are fighting trolls?" He asked, his eyes growing wider. "May I read it?"
"Sure." She pulled another notebook out of her apron pocket, handing it over. "Don't tell her I showed you. She'd be embarrassed."
"Is she angry with you? For talking to me?" He clarified.
Anna grinned. "Yep. No biggee. She'll thank me one day." And with that, she spun around and headed back to the counter.
Finn opened the notebook, scanning it in disbelief. He almost didn't have to read it. He knew that story as well as she did - having heard it at family story night dozens of times growing up. And now the other stories fell into place. A woman fighting a dragon - his mother. A gemstone destroying a town - was that when his Mother and Regina saved Storybrooke? The stories weren't detailed enough to have names and settings spelled out - they were written more like allegories, but there was no mistaking the plot points.
He was angry now, feeling almost violated as he saw his family's lives playing out in her finely controlled script upon the paper. He shoved the notebook in his satchel, and stalked out the door.
Who the hell was she? And how did she know so much about his family?
Perhaps he was looking at her all wrong. Maybe he wasn't sent here to save her. Maybe he was sent here to save his family.
From her.
He needed some time to think.
And tonight, he was going to bloody well get some answers.