Hey guys, thanks for all the awesome reviews! In honor of the return of QUAT tonight, I've uploaded this incredibly long chapter. Yay! Enjoy the update, and remember SWEN, keep flapping those wings and if it makes you happy, never stop shipping what you love :)

"Emma, it's not what you think!" Regina shouted out into the night, but she soon realized the words were pointless. Her wife was not coming back. She slapped her hand against her forehead and groaned.

"Stupid, stalking fucking idiot of a wife I have," she grumbled out. She found that with some thought, she began brooding. "Really?! I mean, why was she here anyway?! Charming told her I was going out. Now she stalks me, sees you here," Regina stammered out, looking at Tink, "and she assumes."

"Wait," Tinkerbell raised her hand. "She thinks—," she said, pointing her finger to Regina and then to herself, "that you…and I…?"

Regina nodded, rolling her eyes at her wife's stupidity, as Tinkerbell laughed. "That's simply priceless."

"Yes, funny as you think it is," Regina added, "I suppose Emma was always a bit jealous, given our complicated history."

"You and me?" Tink asked. Regina saw the fairy's eyes glimmer—they were more golden in color than she'd remembered. But her expression held some shock. It was as if the fairy had no recollection of the past. Surely, she was joking.

Regina slapped her arm as she unlocked the door to the mansion. "Oh quiet, you," she teased, as she lead the way up the stairs. She pointed to the room a few doors down from her own. "The guest room is down the hall on the left—I'm sure you remember?"

"Next to the nursery, yes?" she asked.

Regina paused for a moment. "Across the hall," she corrected. "But no need worrying about waking up the baby—she and Henry are of course at my in-laws'."

"Oh," Tink said, somewhat deflated. "Right." She shot Regina a smile before turning down the hall. "Well, I'll see you in the morning."

Regina nodded. "Goodnight."

The smell of coffee perked her senses as she drifted into consciousness. Emma heard the sounds of her gabby daughter, talking away to her grandmother, who of course seemed just as enthused.

"And..and…Hennee…he said dat there was merraides and fairwees…"

"Oh yeah?" Snow giggled from the kitchen. "What else did Henry say?"

"Hennee…he said dat he flewww! For real, Gamma!"

Emma smiled at the delightful sound of her daughter's squeals over a fantastical depiction of Neverland. Surely, her mother too was finding the humor in this. The blonde opened her eyes to find Henry standing in front of her, extending his hand with a cup of coffee.

"Grandpa said to bring this to you," the boy said as he watched his mother sit-up.

"Thanks, kid."

Henry noticed that his mother was still dressed in her clothes from the previous night. He couldn't help but laugh when she put her foot to the ground, surprised that she'd slept in her boots too. Instead of making a sassy remark, he simply walked away, back to the kitchen to tell Ellie more about his adventures. David, on the other hand, happily took his place. He walked into the living room with his own cup of coffee, ready to join his daughter on the couch.

"I take it that last night didn't go so well," David said, taking a seat.

Emma quickly glared in the kitchen, making sure that the kids were preoccupied and not listening. "No, not at all—but not for the reasons you're thinking."

"Oh?" he said, handing her some pain killers. "Well, I take it that the night ended with you drinking?"

"Oohh yeah," Emma said, taking in the first precious taste of caffeine.

"What happened?"

Emma gulped and then put her cup on the coffee table. "I went over there, to tell her—you know what—and when I get there, I see a rather drunken Regina…leaning her body on a slightly less drunk fucking green flighty fairy."

David's gaze widened, to which Emma responded.

"Yeah—"

"So you didn't get to tell her—?"

Emma looked at her father, completely baffled. "No—what? Are you serious?" she asked, a bit annoyed. "This is the part you're picking up on?"

"Well, I just assumed that your night went poorly because you finally mustered up the courage to tell Regina, only to see she had company."

"Oh, she had company, alright," Emma scoffed. "No more cold nights alone for her, I guess."

She never expected the reaction that her father would have. Emma was certain he'd hug her, tell her it'd be alright—maybe even make a joke about ripping off Tinkerbell's wings. But Charming instead burst into a fit of uncontrollable laughter.

"And what exactly is so funny about this?!" Emma demanded.

David tried to calm down before answering. "What's so funny is that you think Regina would cheat on you with Tink."

"Dad—I'm telling you," Emma said sternly, "I saw them—"

But before she could work herself up, David placed a hand on her knee to calm her. "Emma, I know Regina. She may be angry with you. She may want to throw a fireball at you. But she would never cheat on you."

"How are you certain?"

He shook his head. "Em—let me ask you—did you see them kissing?"

"Well, no, but—"

"Were they hugging? Touching one another?"

"Well—not really so much as balancing, but still—"

"Were they in the heated throws of passion?"

"No," Emma said, grimacing at the highly exaggerated voice he'd used for the last question. "But they were talking—Regina said, 'I really need this right now', to which that green monster said, 'oh, I know how to take care of you'."

David rolled his eyes. "Emma, I'm sure you're making it worse in your head. I'm sure you walked in, half heard the conversation, and ran away. Did you even let Regina explain?"

Her face reddened, as she realized that perhaps her logic was flawed. "No, but—," she paused. "I mean, if I—".

"Emma," he said. "Don't make this about what you did. I know Regina didn't—she wouldn't."

"Again," she asked, "how are you sure?"

Charming sighed. "Okay, fine—only to make my point. When we thought that you were dead," he began explaining, "Regina waited three years before letting herself go on a date. And it's not that she didn't have offers…"

Emma almost felt sick at the thought of other people pursuing her wife, but she let her father continue.

"…Even when—Dorian came along—she felt so incredibly guilty. I don't think now that your back, she'd do anything like that. Not before resolving things, anyway."

Emma sunk into the cushions of the couch, feeling silly for her accusations. She knew Regina too, and her father was right.

David cleared his throat. "And if that isn't enough, check your phone," he said, with a reassuring smile.

Emma grabbed her cell phone from the end table. She clicked on the screen to see she had twelve missed calls and several text messages. All were from Regina.

"She called the house twice as well," he added, "but Snow told her you were still sleeping."

"Did she seem upset or anything?" Emma asked, as she began scanning through the messages.

"I think more worried than upset," David said. "I guess she got nervous when you didn't pick up your phone or answer the messages."

"But it's only—," Emma said, pausing to check the time, "okay, so it is ten of eleven. Big deal."

"Explains why she was worried," he reasoned. "Anyway, drink your coffee and then call or text her, please? At least let her know that you're breathing?"

Emma nodded as David walked back into the kitchen. Her eyes fixated back to her phone when she read through the messages.

Today 3:04 AM

Emma, please come back to the house so we can talk about what you just saw. I swear it's not what you think.

I shouldn't even have to explain myself to you, since your father surely told you I was going out with friends, but I don't want you to get the wrong idea.

Today 3:17 AM

This wouldn't have happened if you hadn't come to stalk me.

It's your own damn fault.

Today 3:24 AM

Do you really think that little of me that I would cheat on you with Tinkerbell?

When Emma read that text, she choked slightly, thinking again of her own indiscretion. But she kept reading.

Today 4:05 AM

I would call the police station to have someone search for you, but oh wait, you ARE the police. Stop being an idiot and answer your phone.

Today 4:46 AM

Emma, please. I'm worried sick. We don't have to talk about things now, but just let me know you're okay.

Today 5:31 AM

Em, don't do this to me. Not again. Not when this is how everything happened last time. Please, I can't go through that again. Just call me. Please.

That was the last text Regina had sent. If Emma had seen any of them, she'd have texted back. But that one—the final one was enough to make her cry. She'd never want Regina to relive the horrors of that night from three years ago—the night she'd walked out, letting Regina believe that there was someone else—how ironic that was now. She remembered sobbing, every time she felt her phone vibrate with both angry and apologetic words from her wife—the night she staged the fight before her trip into hiding in Neverland. She remembered Regina asking questions like, when had Emma stopped being attracted to her?—was it when her pregnancy started showing?—and what was she doing wrong as a wife?—and what had this unnamed other—this other person who didn't even exist—what did he or she have that Regina hadn't?

But this time, there would be an answer. Emma quickly began typing back, wanting to end her wife's worrying.

Regina had barely touched her cup of coffee. She was too busy checking the time, waiting for an appropriate hour to go over the loft and slap her wife silly.

"I'm sure she's fine," Tinkerbell offered. "At least you know that she's with your in-laws."

"It still doesn't make me any less concerned that she hasn't called back." Regina's gaze remained fixated on her phone. "What if she got drunk, hit her head, and now has a concussion? Hmm? What then?"

The fairy put a hand on her friend's shoulder, cautiously. "She'll call," she said. "Until then, why don't we go visit my friend, shall we?"

"No," Regina said sternly, "not until Emma—"

And just then, like clockwork, the brunette saw her phone light up with Emma's picture. She scrambled to pick it up.

"Do you have any idea what ran through my mind when you didn't answer your phone, respond to my texts, or have the decency to return my calls?" she asked, without so much as a greeting.

"I'm sorry. I'm really sorry—after seeing you last night, I kinda finished off a bottle of wine and passed out. I didn't look at my phone until now."

"Well next time, answer your damn phone, Swan! I was worried!" It came out like a mumbled heap, rattled off in anger. But as soon as the words were out, both women knew it was said.

"You were worried? About me?"

Regina sighed, rubbing her temples as she did. "Yes, Emma—do you really have to be an idiot all the time?" She paused, waiting for her frustration to go away before speaking again. "Anyway, I called, because as I'm sure you realize by now, what you saw last night was nothing more than Tinkerbell being my friend and helping me home after a bit too much to drink."

The fairy perked up at the sound of her name. She went on sipping her coffee as she listened to the conversation.

"However, I feel as though we should discuss matters anyway—face to face," she added. "After all, I presume you must have had some reason for lurching around the house at nearly three in the morning—other than stalking me, am I correct?"

There was no immediately response from Emma. Regina had to clear her throat loudly in order to illicit a response.

"What? Oh—yeah, of course. Yeah, there was a reason."

"Well, shall we discuss matters? Later this afternoon, will that do for you?"

Another short pause. "Uh…yeah. Yeah, this afternoon. Your place?"

"Yes," Regina answered, rolling her eyes toward the fairy, who laughed a bit. "I'll see you here later, Emma."

Regina hung up quickly, not wanting her blonde counterpart to believe she was going soft. Her mind still focused on the fact that she'd let her know she was worried. Not that it was terrible for Emma to be aware—maybe the apparently surprising news would do something to prevent her from engaging in other idiotic decisions. But still, the words caused them both to ebb into that emotional territory. And that—Regina felt—was still dangerous.

"Well, now that that's all settled," Tink said, after Regina had put her phone away, "shall we meet my friend?"

Regina let out a sigh of relief. "Lead the way."

As soon as the chime on the door rang, Belle called out from the back room.

"Be right with you!"

A rather slender man stood still in the entry of the pawn shop. He didn't move further into the store—for no reason other than his timidity. Yet his eyes gazed about through the various display cases. His brow raised as his eyes widened to view the marvels of the collection—everything from ancient daggers, to unusual rings with precious and rare stones, most unknown to the common eye. He was so enthralled by his own wonder that he nearly jumped back when a young woman came out to greet him.

"Sorry about that. I'm Belle," she said, extending her hand. "What can I help you with?"

The lanky figure hesitated before taking the girl's hand. His forehead wrinkled, as though he needed a moment to think before responding.

"Naveen," he spat out, after some contemplation. "—I'm supposed to be…meeting a friend here."

"Oh," Belle said, in some surprise. Mr. Gold's shop was an unusual place for people to meet, she thought, but then again, weirder things have happened in Storybrooke. The two of them seemed to stand awkwardly for a moment or two, muddling around in silence.

"Perhaps I've missed her," the man said, nervously, making his way to the door. But before he could leave, Belle responded to his anxiety.

"What does your friend look like?" she asked, causing him to turn back around. "Perhaps she came in earlier?"

The man smiled. "Blonde, frizzy hair," he said. "She has a penchant for the color green, I believe, so she may be wearing it."

"Oh!" Belle cried excitedly. "You must mean Tinkerbell! Well, she hasn't—"

Just then, the tapping of a certain cane, paired with a voice, interrupted Belle.

"Who is it, Belle?" Mr. Gold asked, as he came to the front of the shop.

The man in front of them froze as he felt Gold's eyes upon him. He slowly began backing up, as the two men shared a cold stare. But Gold slowly made his way closer to this shadow of a man.

"Do I know you, dearie?"

"Uhh…," he mumbled out, as he reached his hand for the door. He clutched the knob in his boney fingers and flung the door wide open. "Don't think my friend is here! Must be off! Bye!"

Belle dropped her jaw as she and Mr. Gold stood by the threshold, watching as the lanky little man ran as fast as he could.

"Rumple, do you know him?"

He sighed. "What did he say his name was?"

But before Belle could give an answer, they both found themselves looking at a new customer. The brunette had to stifle her laughter when they saw the man before them was dressed entirely in garb from what they assumed to be their land. Nonetheless, having grown accustom to modern world tradition, seeing such attire was indeed humorous.

Mr. Gold gently poked his partner with his cane, hoping her giggling wouldn't scare off this customer. "Hello there," he greeted the man. "Can we help you?"

"Well, I certainly hope you can, friend," Robin said. "Can you tell me where I might find Regina Mills?"

Gold's eyes widened to hear that this man wanted something to do with the queen. "And what business do you have with Regina?"

"Rumple!" Belle exclaimed, nudging him for his rudeness.

"It's a legitimate question, my dear," he reasoned. "Can't risk anything given our last run in with Pan."

Seeing that Gold's questioning was designed out of concern for his fellow friend, a trait which Robin admired, he began to answer. "Well, you see, I was hoping—"

He found himself stuttering. He wasn't quite sure of his own intent. Of course, his main goal was to find his son. But could he trust this shriveled up old man? Would he think him silly if he told him that a Sea Witch had come to him through a mirror? Ruby, the waitress girl, laughed whole heartedly when he'd asked her about the roaring monsters with humans hanging from their mouths and how it was that they managed to glide so quickly across the petrified river. Perhaps, Robin thought, this man too would laugh, explaining that he'd seen an illusion in the mirror—just as Ruby had taken the time to explain these so called 'cars' and 'paved roads'.

"You were hoping—?"

Robin cleared his throat. "I was hoping that maybe you knew about the Sea—"

Just then, the chime to the door rang again, interrupting Robin. A woman wearing a long green dress, high black boots, possessing blonde, frizzy hair walked in and looked straight at Mr. Gold.

"Tink! There you are," Belle said.

The fairy nodded, dismissively—not in her usual cheerful manner. "Did a scrawny looking man come in here before?"

"Yes," Belle answered. "Said his name was Naveen. He was looking for you, I think. But he ran off down the alleyway. Seemed to be heading toward the town center."

Tink's eyes glowed a wretched yellow tone. "Excellent." Just as she was about to leave, she stopped. Her eyes fixated on Robin. She looked him up and down.

"I see you've made it in one piece," she said, careful not to say much else in front of prying ears. "I shall call upon you later."

And with that, she was gone. Mr. Gold watched as she left in a huff. How very unlike the fairy. While he was ready to put the observation on the back burner, he caught Robin's gaze. Upon the fairy's departure, he looked bewildered by her remark. But after a moment or two passed, it was as though Gold could see the wheels in his head begin to turn, as everything was becoming clear.

The brunette held a puzzled look as she saw the fairy walking toward her. The blonde seemed to be stressed. Right when she was ready to ask her where her supposed friend was, Tinkerbell shook her head, pointed ahead, and kept walking.

"He wasn't there," she said, as Regina followed her, "I have a feeling he's this way."

"I feel like you're leading me on some wild goose chase," Regina spat out. "And what? All for some silly little thing that's supposed to be better than fairy dust for finding my 'True Love'?" she said, pulling on Tink's jacket. "You know what, Tink? It's no big deal. It was just for fun, anyways. This seems like a lot of trouble for—"

"No!" Tink cried out, whipping around. Her outburst seemed to startle Regina, as she leaned back. "I just mean—uh—Regina—," she thought quickly, trying to cover from her rather emotional blunder. "Why don't you head to Granny's, hmm? I'll track down my friend and we'll meet you there?"

Regina's eyebrows knitted together. "Oh-kay?" she said slowly. "I'll see you at the diner then—"

"Perfect!"

Her eyes glimmered as she watched Regina walk away. She waited until the brunette was out of sight before addressing the shadow that called her attention. With a hastened pace, the fairy ran over to the alleyway.

She let out a deep laugh as she saw the rather slender man cower. "What's the matter, fool?" she asked, still chuckling. "See one of your friends from the other side?"

The shadow rose up to face her. She expected him to scoff at her joke. Instead, she saw nothing but a stern fear.

"I can't do it," he said. "I can't go with you—I need to get out of here, immediately."

"What do you mean?!"

"I saw someone who knows me—even in this form," he cried out, pulling at edges of his elegant shirt. "I'll give you what you need, but I can't risk being seen."

The blonde rolled her eyes. "Very well," she said coldly, extending her hand. "Well—give it!"

The man dug his fingers into the depths of his jacket. He pulled out a magnificent rose encased in a jar. Even through the glass, the red of the flower was more vibrant than the ordinary. Deep crimson, it was breath taking, enough so to entrance one's greatest enemy.

"You remember the instructions, yes?" he asked, with great concern.

"Yes, yes," she said, quickly. "Now, I have a guest waiting, so if you—"

"'What rises from her tempered fate, this beauty shall meet her mate'" he reminded, feeling that the witch wasn't listening.

"Yes, I know—I'm not an imbecile!" she said, storming toward the diner.

He called out one final time. "And make sure she pricks her finger first!" But his words fell on ears that were focused on one thing and one thing only—how delightful the sound of the Savior's cries would be.

Regina tapped her fingers repeatedly against the table as she waited. The diner was relatively packed, and as such, she found herself looking up every time the door opened. Finally, she lifted her hand up when Tinkerbell walked in.

"Took you long enough," she said.

The frazzled blonde plopped herself down in the booth. "Sorry for the delay."

"Where's your friend?"

"Oh, that," she said, gently placing the glass jar on the seat beside her. "He couldn't make it. But he's given me exactly what we need."

Regina laughed a bit. She narrowed her gaze and leaned in close to the tired blonde. "Can I really trust you?"

For a moment, the fairy—or rather the woman disguising herself as one—felt a lump in her throat. Sweat nearly formed, ready to drip down her face. Her anxiety must have been apparent, as Regina batted her playfully on her arm.

"I'm only teasing!" she said. She looked over to the object Tink had placed on the seat. "Please tell me that you did not waste half of my Saturday over some silly, enchanted rose."

Tink swatted away her friend's pointing finger. "Hush," she said. She pulled the jar out and placed it on the table. "It just so happens that this rose will indeed guide you to your 'True Love'."

Regina eyed the beautiful flower. "What?" she scoffed. "Is it supposed to tell me how long I have until 'True Love' sets me free? Perhaps each petal will fall, reminding me always of my torture—," she added, mockingly. "Villains don't get happy endings, dear."

"Enough of your pessimistic sass, Lady," Tink scolded. "This rose will help you determine if Emma is your 'True Love'. You must give her the rose. Invite her to dinner," she suggested.

Regina nodded, though giving an air that with sober light now, she thought the idea silly. But truly, she remembered how she'd been feeling. She remembered most the way she felt at Emma's return celebration. She'd watched her wife, merely from across the room, but the distance had felt like miles. That night, Charming had told her that True Love was difficult, no doubt. But then again, correctly identifying it was even harder.

"The two of you must prick your fingers," Tink added. She seemed to mumble off. "Yes—something like—." She stammered on her words, desperately searching for something—but what? "Yes, no matter," she said, more assured, "the point is, you both must allow the thorn to take your blood."

"And then what?"

"If Emma is indeed your 'True Love', you'll be able to sense it," the fairy explained. "It will be as if a force will pull you together. And, I suspect," she added, "through hard work, the two of you will be able to mend your relationship."

"And," Regina muffled out, "—and if she's not?"

The fairy seemed to conceal a certain grin. "The good news, darling, is that you'll be pulled toward your actual 'True Love'—you and Emma can clear the air and move on."

The idea rattled Regina. The very thought that when all was said and done, that magic may not lead her to her blonde savior. At the same time, if it was true that Emma was not the one—perhaps she'd feel less guilty over the fact that there were some days that made her feel like giving up. Needless to say, she wasn't so certain. But as Kathryn had suggested, the truth may help her in her decision making—whatever she chose to do.

"So you'll call her soon, yes?" Tink asked, as Regina took the jar.

The brunette took out her phone and began typing away. "I'll be seeing her tonight."

Emma had sped over to the mansion, after receiving Regina's text to let her know she was ready to meet. She's fixed her hair again for the final time in the rearview mirror.

"This could be it," she said, looking at her own reflection. "Don't fuck up, Swan."

She walked up the path and nervously rang the bell. The sound of clicking was faint, but heart lifting. Regina opened the door, quickly moving out of the way to offer Emma entry.

"Care for a drink?" she asked.

Emma nodded, still caught up by her nerves. She watched as her wife, dressed in a crisp white shirt, delicately poured two glasses of cider, careful not to spill any. She smiled as she handed Emma her glass and led the way into the study.

As soon as Emma sat in the wooden paneled room, Regina joined her, eager to speak. "I hope you've mustered enough common sense to realize that what you saw last night was a misunderstanding."

Emma glanced at her red lips, finding it difficult to remain focused. "I guess."

"You guess?"

"I just— ," she put down her drink on the table, "—I—it was Tink, you know? I know you two have a history together, and yes, I know that was before you and I even met—"

Regina took a sip of her drink, smirking. "Before you were born, actually."

"Yeah, don't wanna think about that," Emma groaned, wincing at the math involved in calculating age differences. "Anyway, I guess I got jealous. But honestly, I have no right to be—"

"Oh, you don't?"

This was it. This was the moment Emma needed to be honest. She needed to confess to her affair with Hook and be done with it.

But just then, Regina smiled. "—Because, I do say, dear—I do enjoy that you're jealous."

"You do?"

Regina's coy smile practically lit the otherwise darkened room. Emma stared at her pose—batted eyes, looking right at Emma, hands gracefully clasped and resting on her black slacks, her foot tucked behind the other. Regina was flirting with her.

"I do."

Emma nearly fainted, fearing she was going to succumb to her desire to ravish her wife. That, combined with the fact that she was ready to burst with her secret, was enough to make her mildly ill.

"But still," Regina added, removing the sultry glow from her cheeks, "I was very annoyed with you for stalking my house. And then having the nerve to not return the phone calls."

"Regina," Emma had managed to breathe out, "I'm sorry for that, really, my mind was just a wreck—with Ellie, and my day at work—"

"Bullshit!" the brunette spat out. Both women were alarmed by the outburst. Regina cleared her throat though and rubbed her hands down her thighs as she calmed herself. "Emma—I need you to respect me."

Emma stared into her dark eyes. They held a certain pleading that only paralleled the disappointed pout lying in the downturned corners of her lips.

"Okay," Emma said. "And part of respecting you is being honest and—"

"You're forgiven, Emma," Regina said flatly, interrupting the blonde's speech once more. "There's no need for some lengthy exposition of your resolve to change today." She traced the rim of her glass with her finger.

"Now, there is something else I want from you—"

Oh God—Emma thought—She knows. She's been with Tink all day. Surely Hook told Tink and she told Regina. Oh God…but wait…she's not angry. She'd be fuming, right? Hell, she'd be throwing fireballs at me right now.

"Emma, I'd like to know if you would have dinner with me—tomorrow night," Regina finally said.

Emma choked some on the gulp of cider she'd drunk to calm her nerves. After coughing for a minute or two, she managed to look up, meeting her wife's concerned eyes.

"Emma, are you okay?"

"Fine, fine—really," she said. "So…you…me…dinner?"

The brunette nodded. "I figure that if you and I are going to—at the very least, be in each other's lives, for the children's sake—we should start trying to communicate beyond simple texts over times and places for pick-ups and drop offs. Do you agree?"

Emma was shocked. Pleasantly surprised. "Yeah, definitely," she said, eagerly.

"Good," Regina added. "And—if all goes well, perhaps we may even discuss you and I, yes?"

"Regina—, I'd love that."

"I don't mean to get your hopes up." The brunette found herself back peddling some. "I make no promises. If—and I mean if—we even ebb into that topic of conversation—I think we have much to discuss and many sessions with Archie ahead of us."

"Of course," Emma nodded vigorously, "anything you say."

Regina smiled. "Then will you come by tomorrow around eight? I'll have dinner ready."

Agreeing to a date the next night, the two women finished their drinks and parted ways. While within the walls of her old house, Emma felt such elation, knowing she'd be back again. But as soon as she'd hopped into the bug, she glared at her reflection once more, full of shame and failure.

"And there you have it," she said aloud, "you fucked yourself again, Swan."