Author's Note: For those doubting it will happen, yes, Regina will take that potion, but the question you should be asking yourself is, just what would push her to take it? As always please read and review. Thanks.

"Mama, can we go to the park?" Roland asked, big eyes pleading as Marian spooned oatmeal into a bowl from the fire. It was around 9am, by the looks of the morning sun, Marian thought. They'd had such a late night talking that both she and Robin hadn't gone to bed until around 3am and as a result, for the first time in a long time, they'd slept in and decided to keep Roland home from school. Usually he was awake and out the door to hunt game or whatever he did now in this time. Marian was still getting used to everything here, the differences – modes of transportation (so many of them and very fast), ways of lighting (electricity had been a shock), the way the air smelled different – heavier, more pungent. Sometimes she missed her world, their time, but there were also so many wonderful aspects of this time and place – ice cream being one of them. Roland had introduced her to it just a few days ago when they'd taken him into town. And she'd quickly learned how energetic he became on the sweet.

"After breakfast, I'll take you into town," Marian answered and ruffled his hair as she set down his bowl onto the picnic table next to the fire and watched him eat.

"Oatmeal's good, but it's better with cinnamon. If we don't have any, Regina can let you have some," Roland said innocently, not looking up and continuing to spoon his breakfast into his mouth.

Marian's sharp intake of breath stuttered in her chest. How would he know she had cinnamon? When was he at her home? "Roland, how much time did you spend with Regina?" Afraid of the answer based on the ease with which he had run into her arms outside of the library.

His little hand hesitated spooning as he thought. "Um, Papa brought us over to Regina's house for supper three times, we went to the park and the place where all the sea animals live, and ice cream, and Granny's, and Regina showed me how to make s'mores…"

Roland continued on his speech about all the things he had done with Regina or with Regina and his father and Marian could only sit there, a bit stunned, dismayed, and heart aching. Somehow, hearing how much time her son had spent with the Evil Queen made Robin's words so much more real. The truth was sharp and heavy on her chest. Children were exceedingly sensitive and she knew Robin would not have introduced Regina to their boy unless he was serious about her.

Marian supervised as Roland finished his breakfast, had a bit of her own, cleaned up and headed into town. The town's park was relatively close by and they found themselves at the entrance within a twenty-minute walk. Roland's energy knew no bounds and he immediately ran into the enclosure, heading up the slide after waving at her. She smiled at him in encouragement and watched as he turned back, his mind now on the task at hand.

"To let you know, slides are usually only one way. Down," a voice said softly from behind Marian, a smile in the tone. Jumping slightly, she turned to see who had said that and was met with Snow White.

"Snow—I mean, Mary Margaret. Good morning," she said after a moment, a brief smile crossing her face. Watched as Mary Margaret nodded and then walked over with the stroller and baby Neal to the bench in the corner of the small playground and sat down, a contented sigh escaping her, eyes closing for a few minutes. "They do keep you up at all hours," Marian began and watched as Snow—Mary Margaret, she'd never get used to that—seemed to enjoy the fresh air and chirping birds.

"Does it ever stop?" she asked with some humor and Marian laughed lightly, coming to sit down next to Mary Margaret, peering into the carriage to see a sleepy Neal fighting to stay awake, but losing the battle.

"Sometime around five months Roland started to sleep through the night, but every baby's different," Marian imparted.

A miserable groan sounded from her throat and Mary Margaret opened her eyes. "I have found a new respect for single mothers," she declared. "I honestly don't know how Regina did it on her own for 10 years." Marian's eyes shadowed over and Mary Margaret bit her lip. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bring up…" she apologized.

"I can't believe that woman raised a child," Marian murmured, shaking her head in wonderment. "I knew a monster. A person without compassion or empathy, someone without a conscience or soul." Robin had told her about Regina, Henry, and the dynamic with Emma, Snow White, and Prince Charming. It still boggled her mind and a large part of her wasn't entirely convinced that the Evil Queen had changed her ways.

"Regina is not the same woman you knew, Marian. She is far from that destructive, vengeful place. Her heart has healed quite a bit," Mary Margaret stated earnestly, placing a tentative hand against Marian's own, which rested on her knee.

Marian looked at that hand overlaying hers and the kindness the touch conveyed. "I suspect my husband had something to do with that," she said quietly, pulling at a stray lock of dark hair that whipped into her face and mouth with the wind, watching Roland play, running up the rope ladder, sliding down the slide, and repeating the venture, his laugh carrying over to the two women. How she wished she could be so carefree. Robin of Locksley was incredibly charming, had charmed more than his share of women before she'd met him, she knew, and so she wasn't surprised the Queen had fallen for him.

But she was surprised he had fallen for her.

A quick squeeze of her hand accompanied Mary Margaret's next words. "Yes, he did. He saw beneath the mask, behind the wall she keeps between herself and everyone else, and found the woman who saved my life when I was a child. I can't be sorry that my daughter saved you, because that was the right thing to do, but I can be sorry that it cost dearly," she said slowly, capturing and holding Marian's gaze. "It's put Robin in an untenable situation, pulled you from a life you knew into a world you don't, and cost Regina a chance at happiness."

"Robin is my happiness," Marian said fiercely. "He's my husband."

Mary Margaret took a deep breath, exhaled, and turned back to watch Roland playing, as if that could help her find the words to express her thoughts. "Regina said Robin told her about what happened to you, that you were lost to him because of a job. But that they never found your body. So we don't know if Regina would have killed you in the original timeline. For all we know, you got out somehow and…"

"And what? Abandoned my husband and my son?" Marian asked hotly, not liking one bit the direction this conversation was going.

"We don't know, Marian. And now we never will. Because you're here when you should be there. And that's no one's fault—" Here Mary Margaret stumbled because she knew exactly what Regina would say to that, could near the sharp comment in her mind, but continued on. "—But regardless, the point is, we will never know what happened that morning. So much has changed since you were locked in Regina's dungeon. She's changed. And I suspect, your husband has as well. It's a tough situation to be in, Marian. Just…try to understand."

Marian was silent for long moments, battling anger and hurt in her heart. "He told me about her, about them. How long….?" Her voice trailed off, throat closed up, and she wasn't sure she really wanted the answer to the question she couldn't bear to ask. What woman wanted the answer relating to her husband and replacement?

"How long have they been dating?" Mary Margaret guessed, ducking her head to look at Marian's downcast face. "Neither has said, they've kept it pretty quiet, but I suspect at least a few weeks."

A few weeks. In a matter of weeks, her husband had fallen in love with the Queen. She couldn't help but compare how long it had taken for them and found herself a bit worried. Their relationship had progressed slowly, the emotions developing gradually over time, but this sounded like it had happened quickly, a flash flood that had thrown them together. The man she knew had a bit of trouble with trusting others. Just what had happened to open his heart and mind to such a woman? "What did she do to pull him into her circle?" she murmured and Mary Margaret turned her head, staring at Marian, who'd taken to staring off into the distance, past Roland, past the street, as if by looking past them, she might be able to formulate a reason, an explanation for how the Evil Queen had ensnared her husband.

"Robin was with Regina of his own free will," Mary Margaret insisted, power and confidence behind each word, powerful enough to break through her musings.

"And where does that leave us?" she asked, tears brimming in her eyes suddenly, turning into Mary Margaret's compassionate gaze. "Where does that leave me?"

"Waiting. For reassurance, for love, and understanding. He can't just switch off his emotions, forget he fell in love with her. She's a part of him now, as much as you are, and the choice he faces will not be easy. Be patient Marian, and in the end, Robin will make the right choice for him. Whoever he chooses will be where his heart is leading him, be it to Regina or you," she said gently, carefully choosing her words, wanting to soothe Marian's fears and yet prepare her in the event Robin chose Regina.

Their conversation was interrupted by Roland's screech across the park. "HENRYYYYY!" The little boy jumped off the swing he was on and raced across to the other side, opposite Mary Margaret and Marian and began a conversation with Henry Mills, who was walking past on his way to school. The two boys talked for a few minutes and then Henry ruffled Roland's hair over the wrought iron fence before continuing on his journey with a wave to his grandmother, his pace a bit quicker than before.

Roland ran back, past the swings, and to where Mary Margaret and Marian were sitting. "Henry said to tell you, 'hi grandma,'" Roland imparted to Mary Margaret, his breath coming in puffs from the jaunt from one side of the park to the other. "Do you know, Mama, Henry has video games in his room? He showed me how to play Mario Kart on the Wii!"

Marian looked to Mary Margaret in confusion, who smiled gently. "It's a game on the television. If Robin hasn't shown you around town with all of the differences from our world, I'd be happy to help you to acclimate."

Marian felt a bit of relief at the offer. She'd been lost for the last few weeks. Robin had tried to help her adjust, but there was just so much that was new here and she didn't want to burden him with her questions. "That would be lovely, thank you."

"I should introduce you to Belle, Storybrooke's librarian, well, only librarian, but that's besides the point. She's a wonderful girl who I believe you will enjoy meeting. There are many books in the library that will help you get caught up on this world so you don't feel so out of place."

Out of place. So much felt out of place. "Sometimes, when he looks at me, I think it would have been better if I'd never come forward," Marian murmured quietly, thinking of the look in Robin's eyes. He probably didn't even realize it, but she could see it. A flash of resentment, a little guilt and mixed in - remorse.

"No," Mary Margaret denied. "Everything happens for a reason. We might not see what that is at the time, but I truly believe things happen the way they do for a reason. If Regina had never tried to take revenge on me, I'd never have met Charming, had Emma, and we'd not have Henry in our lives. Our actions have consequences, both intended and unintended," she added, thinking of the secret she'd failed to keep as a girl, the decision her daughter had made a few short weeks prior that had led to this moment. "Regardless of the struggle Robin is going through right now, the confusion and fear you must be feeling as a result, you're right where you're supposed to be. Just take a breath. Take things one step at a time and it will be okay. Everything will work out the way it's supposed to," she reassured.

XoXoXo

Things were not working out the way they were supposed to, Tinker Bell thought with a frown, watching as Robin came through the doors of Granny's, and she didn't know how to fix the mess Emma had created. Pixie dust never failed. Regina and Robin of Locksley were soulmates, but this addition of Marian into Storybrooke had thrown a wrench into their relationship and now Tink feared Regina wouldn't get her happy ending.

There must be something she could do, she thought with determination, sipping a cup of tea. The diner was moderately busy, with several people at the bar and a few patrons in the surrounding booths. Robin was placing some sort of order, she could see, and she averted her eyes a bit as he turned to look around the diner.

Spotting her, she watched as he walked over, eyes glued to hers. Robin sat down across from her. "Good day," she greeted, unsure of what to say. How's your should-be-dead wife?

"Morning," Robin replied. He looked unsure of himself, and she could see there was a question he wanted to ask, but didn't know how. "Could you…could you do me a favor and look after Regina, as much as she will allow?" he asked quietly. "She holds herself back, keeps herself locked away, and I imagine much of what she's feeling is being suppressed. I can see it in her eyes."

Tink's gaze shot to his. "You've talked with her?" she asked.

"Yes, we had a conversation the other night. She's graciously given me the space to figure everything out." He fidgeted slightly, looked down, and then startled when Ruby placed a cup of tea in front of him before leaving. He'd forgotten he'd even ordered it.

"Regina really has turned over a new leaf. The Evil Queen would have vanquished her enemy," Tinker Bell nodded her head and took a sip of her tea. English breakfast, her favorite. "How are you?" she asked gently.

Robin looked up quizzically, as if confused why anyone would be concerned for him. "Fine, I guess. Considering the circumstances."

"You have a choice to make," Tink stated. "It won't be easy."

Gratitude at the acknowledgment of the gravity of the decision he'd have to make shone in his eyes. "No it won't. I love them both." He swallowed hard. "I love my wife. And I also love Regina." He paused a moment before continuing, taking a sip of the hot brew, hesitating. "She told me, about the tavern I mean."

Tinker Bell's breath rushed out. She was surprised Regina had revealed that piece of information. "Pixie dust just shows the possibilities," she hedged.

Robin huffed out a laugh. "You told her we were destined to be together. That's not possibility, Tink. That's fact."

"Destiny, fate or not, you have a choice Robin. We all have a choice. It's your decision. Follow your heart, allow yourself to listen to it, not your head. Ask yourself, what do you want, not what is destined or what you should do based on loyalty or obligation. Who can you imagine in your life ten, fifteen years from now? Fifty? Who do you want at your side?" Tinker Bell asked and winced inside. She could possibly be encouraging him to choose Marian when Regina was his destiny. Even so, the world was filled with instances where someone listened to their head and not their heart, logic and not love. He'd have to choose on his own, without influence.

"Thank you, Tink. I'd better get going. Thank you for the conversation...and the understanding."

"Of course," she said kindly, eyes warm with sympathy. Robin did have a hard decision on his hands, she thought as she watched him walk out after getting his package from Ruby. He had the love of two strong women, both of which would fight for him. Marian – the mother of his child and his great love. Regina – the start of an amazing relationship he'd only scratched the surface of. A woman she believed would go to the ends of the earth for him and beyond. Marian may love him, she thought, but she suspected he had dug his way to the depths of Regina's soul.

He had to choose between his past and his present, deciding which would be his future.

XoXoXo

Two weeks later Regina found herself hugging the toilet, the contents of her stomach emptying into the bowl, her abdomen spasming violently. Shakily rising from the porcelain, she flushed the toilet and turned on the spigot to rinse her mouth of the foul taste. Damn, she couldn't shake this flu. Or cold. Whatever. She'd been sick off and on for the better part of a week and it was starting to wear on her. She hated being sick.

It had always been a sign of weakness, one Mother did not countenance and to this day, Regina found it difficult to admit when she was sick, when she needed help. She could take care of it herself. Usually.

"Regina?" a familiar voice floated upstairs, and Regina closed her eyes on a groan. What was she doing here, helping herself into Regina's home uninvited? And yet, somehow, she found it unsurprising that Snow White would barge in.

"Go away, Mary Margaret," Regina called through clenched teeth. The last thing she needed was for her former step-daughter to see her like this. Because no one saw her vulnerable. Even due to the flu.

"Regina? Where are you—" Mary Margaret's voice cut off as she rounded the corner and stopped short at the sight of Regina slumped over the sink. "Henry said you weren't feeling well, but this is—"

"I'm fine," Regina insisted, shaking the tepid water off her hands before drying them and her mouth with a hand towel mounted on the wall. "Just fine. You can leave now."

"Let me help you," Mary Margaret said sternly, and the look in her eyes told Regina (who was not in the mood for a fight, not really) she wouldn't take no for an answer.

"Fine," she caved and Mary Margaret watched her progress from the bathroom upstairs down to the lower level and into the kitchen. She took a guess and after snagging a glass from the cabinet, filled it with water from the refrigerator and handed it to Regina.

She took the glass without a glance, only a head tilt in acknowledgment and thanks and took a few sips slowly, allowing the water to settle in her belly uncertainly. After a few more minutes, she continued sipping slowly, listening to her body. "So is it a cold? Can't be the flu – you don't look like you have a fever," and she reached out a hand to touch to Regina's forehead, which she swiftly ducked away from and turned a glare on Mary Margaret.

"I told you, it's just a cold or something," she dismissed. "Nothing to worry about."

Mary Margaret took in the slumped shoulders, just slightly so, the fatigue in her eyes, dark circles and bags beneath. "Regina, have you been very tired lately? Was today the first time you've lost your lunch? How often?"

Regina became irritated and had to bite back an exceptionally snarky reply. "What does it matter? It's just a cold or maybe the flu."

"You don't have body aches, you're not congested and you're trembling. You look quite a bit tired…forgive me for asking, but when was the last time you had your period?"

Regina shook her head. "What business of it of yours?"

Mary Margaret gave her a look.

"I'm not pregnant! I just had it…" Her voice trailed off and Regina thought back to the last time she'd gotten her period. A few short weeks before. A month before. Two weeks before their picnic. By the fire. In which they'd last been intimate. Fuck. The color drained from her face. "No…" she whispered. Fate couldn't be that cruel.

"Do you want me to take you to see Dr. Whale?" Mary Margaret asked and tried to tamp down her excitement because of Regina's so-far unhappy reaction. A baby!

"I may be pregnant, I'm not an invalid," she snapped, irritated. This couldn't be happening. It had been one time! Well, several times over that afternoon, she thought with an involuntary shiver. They'd not been able to keep their hands off each other that day, but still. She couldn't be pregnant. She just couldn't. Could she?

XoXoXo

Tinker Bell debated, hesitated outside the door. Would he help her? Could he help her? What price would he demand? Rumpelstiltskin was such a trickster and he could demand a price much higher than what she was willing to pay. Gathering her courage, she squared her shoulders and marched into Gold's Pawnshop before she chickened out.

The tinkle of the bells announced her presence and within a few minutes, Belle and Mr. Gold came out from the back, a giggle erupting from the dark-haired beauty as she pulled her boyfriend forward. Tinker Bell noticed first a smudge of lipstick on Gold's mouth which was quickly removed by him at her look and then the glint off Belle's left hand, the sun catching the diamond shining there as well as the simple band and she couldn't help the gasp. "You got married! Congratulations!" she exclaimed, rushing over to hug Belle warmly, so very happy for the young woman who'd fallen in love with a beast.

"Thank you, we've not really announced it, but we're also not hiding it either," Belle nodded with a smile. "What can we do for you, Tink?"

Tinker Bell sobered, her merriment pushed aside by unease once again. "Well, I have a request of Mr. Gold. Somehow I doubt there is no pixie dust left from our realm. If you have any, might I barter to obtain some?" Tink knew it would come at a cost, if he did have a small store of it somewhere, but she hoped she'd be able to afford to pay it.

Mr. Gold evaluated the fairy, studied her. She was up to something, he could tell. Just what could she possibly have a use for pixie dust? It was good for a multitude of things—

His eyes lit up in recognition. "Always looking to help those who don't ask for it, aren't you, Tink? Haven't you learned your lesson yet?"

Her lips pursed. "It's none of your business, Rumpelstiltskin, what use I have for it. Are you willing to trade or not?"

He was quiet for a bit longer, until Belle gently nudged him. "Come on, Rumpel. If you have some dust, please give it to her, for me." He looked at his beautiful wife, her warm eyes, loving gaze, and made a decision. He was definitely going soft. He couldn't resist her at all.

"You're in luck," he said as he walked back into the rear area of the shop, emerging several minutes later with the dust in question. A small amount of it to be sure, but a small amount would do just what he suspected she was up to, anyway. "As for the price…" his voice trailed off as Tinker Bell reached for the small glass vial and he pettily enjoyed the dread building there. "The price is one feather from your wings."

Tink startled. So small a price? "What use would you have for that?"

"My business, not yours, dearie," he reminded her. "Are you willing to pay?"

"Rumpel…" Belle's voice warned.

"No, love, every deal with me has a cost and the fairy knows it."

Tinker Bell bit her lip, debating, but ultimately, she had no choice, not if she was going to do what she was going to do and she needed that dust. It was the only way. Besides, it was one feather. What harm could one feather do? "Deal."

Willing them to appear, her wings fluttered open and the gossamer feathers shimmered with diamond sparkles. "A feather taken is completely useless to me. It has to be given. You have to do the taking and it will likely hurt, dearie," Rumpel said, walking behind her. Tinker Bell had always been a complete baby when it came to pain, so the idea she'd have to rip out one of her feathers was not appetizing. Bracing herself, she took a breath and reached behind. A few seconds later, she felt the most horrible pain imaginable as she ripped out one of her flight feathers. She cried out and vaguely heard Belle's alarmed cry before her body was braced against the smaller woman. The pain subsided immediately and then disappeared. Rumpel came around to face her and said briefly, "I needed the feather, not your pain. The wound has been healed."

"Thank you," she murmured and reached for the vial as he handed it over.

"Good luck with your endeavors," and his voice carried a note of genuine…something. She wasn't quite sure what. But as she left the shop, Mr. Gold rejoined his wife and the laughter in her voice carried to Tinker Bell and she realized what she'd heard in his voice. Love. Hope. True hope that her actions would work. It seemed as though because he'd found his happiness, Mr. Gold had softened a bit. But then her mood darkened thinking of the cost of the pixie dust. Nah, she thought. He might have changed, but not that much. After all, just what kind of use could Rumpelstiltskin have for a fairy's feather?

XoXoXo

"Papa, LOOK!" Roland yelled from across the way. Robin looked up from the fire he'd been tending, his eyes adjusting quickly to the growing darkness as he watched his son swinging on the toy he and Little John had built for him just the day before. Roland loved the Storybrooke park, but it was quite a walk from the forest and so they'd built him his favorite part of it right in their camp. They'd rigged it from a piece of wood for the seat and thick, hardy ropes purchased down by the docks. It hadn't taken long at all.

"He shouldn't swing so high," Marian murmured, her brow drawn in concern at her son who was getting ever higher and higher, his voice carrying on a giggle.

"He's fine, Marian. He loves it and he's used to swinging higher than that," he eased her fears, or tried to, but unlike the past when she'd take his word as gospel, his words had no real effect.

"If he gets hurt…" her voice trailed off, and Marian didn't know what she'd do, but her husband wouldn't like it, that was for sure. Roland was so small and it didn't help that the last time she'd seen him he'd barely been out of diapers.

"He won't get injured," Robin sighed and rose from the fire to join Marian at the edge of the gravel surrounding the fire. "He's been swinging on one like it for the better part of two months. Come, tell me how your day has been," he added, leading her back to the fallen log serving as a seat by the fire. They sat down and he waited, watching his wife.

"Belle invited me to work at the library today," she began.

"That's wonderful. I know you like it there," Robin enthused, and he could hear the overeager tone in his voice. He had to prevent a wince. Things had been rocky between them for the last week, since he'd asked for patience and understanding in a decision no one should ever have to make. His wife had always been patient with him, but it seemed, that patience was starting to run thin. Waiting on pins and needles for a decision that he kept vacillating on.

Marian chose to disregard the false enthusiasm in his voice and carried on. "I have been spending much of my time there, learning about this world, and all it has to offer. Belle is a very nice young woman," and she shivered, remembering that although Belle was nice and welcomed her with open arms, the one time she'd met Mr. Gold, he had sent a shiver of dread down her spine. "It will be nice to have something to do while Roland is at school and you're off doing…whatever you're doing."

Robin sighed. "I told you Marian. I've been helping Emma and David." They'd asked him on as a second deputy, which as he could tell was this world's version of a constable. Funny, to be back on the right side of the law.

The rest of the evening was spent quietly, Robin's men a welcome distraction and balm over the open wound that was their marriage. He loved his wife, he really did, but he can't help thinking of Regina, wondering how she is, where she is, what she's doing. He'd heard she'd gotten sick at Granny's the week before, come down with the flu or something, and he'd wanted to go to her, see how she was, but he knew he wouldn't have been welcome. It would only have confused her, and him, and he needed a clear head.

The last week with Marian had been alternately tense and easy-going, reminding him of both the choice he had yet to make and the ease of his relationship with her. Everything about her felt familiar and safe…and as completely different as possible compared to Regina. A bit of guilt welled up at the comparison. He shouldn't be comparing the two women. Neither of them deserved it. Marian was one of his oldest friends, his third relationship, first real one as an adult (He'd fallen for two young girls as a lad), and everything about her reminded him of his past. And of Roland. He looked at their boy and saw Marian reflected in his brown eyes, warm and loving. Even so, he couldn't help but remember another set of brown eyes warm and loving, and completely unguarded.

And when they put Roland to bed that night, if it was awkward and both of them were concentrating on their son instead of on each other, and ignoring the elephant in the room, Robin thought they'd succeeded. Until they entered their own tent and got into bed. At first, both of them lay quiet and semi-relaxed, Robin spooning Marian, his hand curled over hers, and he thought, she fits me. But a part of him was already whispering that no, not quite, not quite the same as before and she fits better, best, perfectly. The familiarity of Marian was overshadowed by memories of another and no matter how hard he tried to push those feelings down, they rose up. Trying to close his eyes and force himself to relax and sleep because tomorrow was going to be a long day (they all seemed like long days when he and Marian were barely speaking), he gave up when he felt her shift against him and her voice whisper out in the darkness, "When you're helping Emma and David, what are you doing? What do you go do? See her?"

Robin sighed internally and for a split second, everything in him wanted to disregard the hurt he could hear in her voice and snap that no, he didn't, no matter how much he wanted to see Regina, he didn't go to her. Because of her. Because he respected both of them too much to dishonor either of them. And because he couldn't look himself in the mirror if he committed adultery, which he feared visiting her would lead to, because God help him, he missed Regina.

"No, Marian, I don't see Regina. I have no need to."

"She's the mayor, the queen of this land. And you're a deputy." Here Marian stumbled over the foreign word and continued, "Whatever that entails. You don't tell me what you're doing. You're quiet and secretive and we don't talk!"

"It's mostly paperwork, Marian, something I'm getting used to, and sometimes it's getting Grace's cat out of the tree (again) or taking reports for lost items, or one day it was because one of the children found a firearm in the park," he defended, sitting up in bed just as she scooted away from him and pushed to a sitting position.

"Roland's spent a lot of time with the queen." Marian changed the subject, his last statement reminding her of the partial reason she was still upset, over a week later. "He told me he spent time with her. I knew you were in love with her Robin, but to involve Roland?"

Robin began to get upset as well in reaction to the hurt and anger in the tone of her voice, layered with shock and incredulity. "Yes, Roland has spent time with Regina. I was seeing her, Marian, and Roland was and is a large part of my life. He had the right to know."

"You were serious about her," she said quietly, and her back was to him, her defenses up and Marian could feel how walled off she was to him, but she couldn't help it. This hurt too much to bear. It had been building ever since she first came forward in time. Out of place. Out of her time.

She heard him sigh in resignation behind her. "Yes I am," he said quietly and a fresh wave of pain washed over her because of the present tense, because of the way he seemed to not realize what and how he'd said it, because he so obviously had chosen without ever really realizing it.

"If you're going to leave me, Robin, I'd rather you do it sooner rather than later," she breathed airily and she braced herself for his reaction, in dread and hope, confusion and clarity warring within.

Hope and confusion won out as he said, "No, Marian, I've not made my decision. How many times do I have to say it? It's not easy. It never could." She felt him try to reach out, and he almost touched her shoulder with his hand, but she sensed the movement and pulled away briskly, off the bed and across the room, pulling on a cloak and slippers.

"Where are you going?" Robin asked, alarmed and confused.

"I just…need to take a walk. I'll be back later and don't even think about sending someone with me, or even behind me to watch. I'll not stand for it, you hear? I'm a grown woman, not a child, not an invalid," Marian warned, eyes flashing with impotent anger and hurt. Expecting him to follow her, she was crushed when he didn't as she eased out of the tent and in the minutes after, but when he didn't, when it was obvious he was going to respect her wishes, Marian pressed a hand against her left breast, above her heart, and circled there gently, trying to ease the broken heart, and silent tears streamed down her face as she hurried away, a sob quieted resolutely.

Because it proved, more than words could ever say, that Robin of Locksley had already made his choice. Now it would be a matter of how long it took for him to realize it.

XoXoXo

Bloody hell, Tinker Bell thought as she slapped at a branch and narrowly avoided a scratch across her face. The Enchanted Forest wasn't like these woods. These woods were the devil's own backyard. She was a fairy for cripes' sake. She loved nature, but not this version of it. Trudging through the undergrowth, Tink walked through the woods, trying to find Robin's camp again. It looked quite different at night and a part of her was sure she was lost, but she was determined to find it. And her.

Pixie dust in hand, Tinker Bell had plans for that dust. But she'd have to find Marian first. How exactly she would get the dust on Marian without her knowing what she was doing was a problem she'd not solved yet, but as Emma had said once, she'd cross that bridge when she got to it. First thing's first.

Fifteen minutes later, Tinker Bell was just about to give up when she heard small, wretched sounds. A peak over the ridge beyond her location showed a small figure huddled on a log, sobs wracking her body. A closer look revealed the person to be Marian and Tink felt a pang of sympathy for the young woman. She couldn't imagine what it must be like to be ripped from your timeline, reunited with your husband only to find out he'd moved on and your son, barely a babe when you last saw him, now a growing boy. How incredibly jarring.

Remembering her purpose, Tinker Bell grasped the vial of the precious pixie dust and unstopped the top. Pixie dust was incredibly powerful, almost sentient in that it could adapt its properties to fit the user's request, and with that in mind, Tink willed the dust to appear only to her and requested it lead her to Marian's soulmate as she quietly crept closer and then became small again. Wings spreading, she flew in the air, hovering above Marian and sprinkled some of it on her. She didn't flinch and Tink breathed a sigh of relief when she didn't react. The last thing she needed was the young woman becoming aware of her actions. She was trying to figure out who Marian's soulmate was and she was hoping it wouldn't lead her back to Robin.

A twig snapped in the near distance and Marian's head came up sharply, tears drying on her face, alarm in her eyes. Alarm quickly turned to anger and Tinker Bell heard Marian mutter, "I said I wanted space!" before stalking off. Curiously, she was walking in the direction the dust indicated her soulmate was. Tink followed at a distance, the distinct green glow still visible to only her, and observed as Marian's trek took her through the woods, into Storybrooke, and to the Botanical Gardens. They were a local attraction, lovingly taken care of by the other fairies, and drew many of the townsfolk. Apparently Marian felt the same.

Tink halted as Marian walked through the Gardens and came to the greenhouse. It was the only place where the more sensitive plants and flowers, like some orchids, could bloom due to the high humidity. She moved closer, peeping in through the windows cautiously, watched as Marian entered the greenhouse and began to walk around. Why would the dust lead her he—

Tink gasped and had to stifle a squeal of delight as the green dust settled and glowed around a young man on the other side of the room carefully tending to a plant, body turned away from Tinker Bell and Marian.