Present Day

Sabrina couldn't help but giggle at the thought of Daphne being draped over Pinocchio's shoulder. Apparently, the girls felt the same way because pretty soon, the whole living room had erupted into giggles, from Puck to the girls to Sabrina.

Daphne herself smiled. "Looking back on it, it is pretty funny, but the night got far more interesting after we got to the car."

Five and a half years earlier

As Pinocchio set Daphne in the front seat of the car, she looked around. What had possessed Pinocchio to purchase an SUV? He lived in New York City where compact cars were far more appropriate than such a large and heavy vehicle.

Pinocchio slid into the driver's seat and turned a reluctant smile to Daphne. "I know you're wondering why I'm driving such a monstrous vehicle in New York City."

"The thought had occurred to me," she said, surprised by his smile.

"Well, I had a feeling I'd have to come to the aid of a damsel in distress one day," he said with a teasing smile. "Although you really put up more of a fight than I expected."

"I am not a damsel in distress!" Daphne protested as she prepared to fight with him again. One look at his eyes to see the teasing amusement dance within them made Daphne stop in her tracks. She blushed as she began to chuckle. "I guess I did make it a bit tough for you to be a knight in shining armor."

A small half-smile played on Pinocchio's lips as he turned the key in the ignition. He moved to pull out of the parking lot, but hesitated for a moment. He sat back in his seat and turned to Daphne. "I know you'd probably rather head back to Ferryport Landing than suffer through dinner with me or even stay the night with Sabrina. If you'd like, I can take you to Ferryport Landing. And you can take the train back and pick your car up when the weather's clear."

Daphne wasn't sure she was interested in spending the next few hours locked in a car with Pinocchio, but Pinocchio was right. She wanted to get home to Ferryport Landing—almost more than she wanted to see her sister, brother-in-law, and nieces. She just wanted to sit by the fire and read the family journals, and maybe even make an entry into her own.

"I don't want you to go out of your way," she said softly. "Besides, I don't want to leave my car overnight."

"It's no trouble," he assured. "And if this storm is as bad as they're suggesting, no one's going to touch your car."

Daphne managed a thin smile.

"Look," Pinocchio said apparently noting her discomfort. "Why don't we drive down to Greenwich Village and get some dinner? If the storm holds, we'll go to Ferryport Landing. If it gets worse, I'll take you to Sabrina and Puck's, okay?"

Daphne hesitated for a moment before she nodded. "If the weather clears up, you bring me back to pick up my car."

Pinocchio looked surprised but he nodded. "If the weather spontaneously clears, I'll bring you back to get your car."

Daphne smiled softly as he put the car into reverse and drove out of the parking lot. She studied her traveling companion for a moment. He was wearing a thick, woolen dress coat with a warm pair of gloves and a matching scarf. Clearly, he'd been more aware of the predictions for the weather than she had. She'd worn a woolen burgundy skirt suit, a pair of matching heels, and a fashionable gray cape. She was warm enough, but if Pinocchio hadn't carried her out to his car, she was certain she might have slipped on some of the ice patches she'd seen them pass over.

"Something on your mind?" Pinocchio asked as he turned an inquisitive eye to her.

She shook the thoughts from her mind, and looked over at him. "Oh, I'm just wondering where we're going."

"I thought maybe you could tell me if there are any places around here worth checking out," he said as he looked over.

"Well, when I was a student, I used to go to the Focacceria for paninis and espresso," Daphne said with a smile.

"Italian food?" Pinocchio asked as if the thought made him slightly ill.

"What's wrong with Italian food?" Daphne grumbled. "You're Italian!"

"That's exactly the point!" Pinocchio exploded. "I know what it's supposed to taste like!"

Daphne rolled her eyes. "Of course. No one would be able to match your grandmother's recipe..."

Pinocchio fell silent as he drove down the road. "I never had a grandmother." He sighed softly. "I was a puppet, remember?"

Though she was surprised by Pinocchio's choice of words, Daphne felt instantly sorry for her outburst. "I'm sorry, Pinocchio. I—I forgot."

"Americans seem to think that if they put enough garlic, basil, tomatoes, and Italian sausage in something that it's suddenly Italian," he said as he pulled into a street-side parking space. "But that's not what makes something Italian." He swallowed as he sat back in his seat. "It's the heart of the cook that makes something truly Italian."

"Oh?" Daphne asked, surprised by his outburst.

Pinocchio nodded. "My father made a marinara sauce that could not be equaled by anyone in Collodi, the town where my father was born, and where he made me. It was the only thing he was known for besides his kindness and his skill for crafting children's playthings."

"Your father and his marinara sauce?" Daphne asked with a smile.

"You've heard of spaghetti and meatballs, of course," Pinocchio said as he looked over at her.

She nodded. It had been one of her favorite meals as a child. If truth be told, it still was.

"When my father made spaghetti, he didn't need to make meatballs for people to come for miles just to be a guest of his lowly table," Pinocchio said with a tender smile. "It was one of the things I missed most when my father and I were separated." He was quiet for a moment, and he cleared his throat. "It's one of the things I still miss today."

"I didn't know," she whispered as she placed a kind hand on his arm.

"No Italian food, okay?" He asked as he turned a pained expression to her.

She nodded. She looked down the street to another of her favorite spots as a student. "There's the Creperie. They serve sweet and savory crepes until three or four in the morning. It was my favorite place to pull all-nighters."

Pinocchio smiled. "With your affinity for all things pancake, I'm not surprised."

Daphne grinned as she moved to get out of the car. But she paused, and turned back to Pinocchio.

"Yes?" He asked as he noticed her sudden change.

Daphne had so much she wanted to tell him. So much she needed to say, but there was too much history between them to let her say it.

"Nothing," she said as she shook her head, feeling oddly emotional. "I feel—" She hesitated before she looked up at him. She swallowed the emotions down as she managed a sad smile. "I've missed this."

Pinocchio hesitated before he reached a hand out to hers. "So have I."

He held her hand in his for a few moments. Daphne bit her lip as she looked over at him. There was something about him that was calling out to her as if he wanted her to make the first move in rekindling their relationship.

"Pinocchio," she whispered.

With the utterance of his name, the spell was broken, and Pinocchio pulled his hand out of hers. The warmth and regret which had been evident only a moment earlier disappeared. "We'd better hurry," he said gruffly. "The storm's getting worse."

Daphne swallowed as she turned away from him. Sudden tears sprang to her eyes which she carefully wiped away. What was wrong with her? Ten years ago, she'd sworn this would never work. Ten years ago, she'd been the one to break his heart. Now she wanted him to come back to her?

Daphne stepped out of the car and onto the pavement. Her heels sunk into the three inches of snow that had fallen since she'd begun her lecture. The cold, wet feel of the snow on her feet made her shiver involuntarily as she closed the door and headed toward the restaurant.

She was grateful to discover that, as she'd remembered, the Creperie was open and seemed that it would be open for a while. She walked into the cozy restaurant and shook the snow from her cape.

"Nasty weather out there," the woman behind the counter said with a sympathetic smile. "I was sure we wouldn't have anyone come in today."

"I'm just glad you're still open," Daphne admitted with a small chuckle.

"I just live a few blocks away," the woman said with a grin. "And I have my boots and a nice, warm coat. I figure I can walk home if it gets too bad. And I have mace if any muggers are crazy enough to be out here when I get off."

Daphne chuckled as Pinocchio entered the small restaurant.

"Wow! Two customers! You've just made my night!" The woman said as she prepared to take their orders. "What can I get for you?"

"Can I get a menu?" Pinocchio said as he walked over to one of the tables.

"Honey, there are no menus," the woman at the counter said with a laugh. "You tell me what you want, and I make it for you." She pointed to the chalkboard above her head. "Up here you'll find the ingredients we have, and some of our specials. Maybe it'll give you some ideas."

Pinocchio seemed irritated, but he stood and joined Daphne.

As he studied the menu, the woman looked over at Daphne. "You look familiar. Have I seen you around?"

Daphne shrugged. "Maybe. I studied psychology at NYU. This was my favorite place to spend an all-nighter."

The woman smiled. "Then, for old times' sake, I'll give you the all-nighter deal."

"Bottomless coffee cup and all-you-can-eat-crepes for $19.99 with tax," Daphne said with a grin. "I remember it well."

Pinocchio turned to Daphne with surprise. "Bottomless coffee cup?"

'Yes," Daphne said with a grin. "Coffee with free refills. All the crepes you can eat. Oh, those were great times!" She turned to the woman. "I think I gained about five pounds at the end of every semester!"

The woman laughed. "You and me both, sweetie! Now, what can I start for you?"

"A nutella and strawberry crepe with a dollop of whipped cream on top."

"We're here for dinner, Daphne," Pinocchio said as he looked over Daphne.

"So?" Daphne asked with an amused smile. "The night's still young."

"I like your style," the woman said as she took down the order. She punched a few buttons on the register. "That'll be $19.99."

Daphne reached into her purse and retrieved her wallet as Pinocchio turned to the woman. "We're together."

Daphne snapped her head over to look at Pinocchio in surprise. "We are?"

Pinocchio shot a dirty look at her. "I asked you to join me for dinner. That means that I pay for it."

Daphne swallowed. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize that was the deal."

She put her wallet away as Pinocchio turned to the woman. "I'd like the Chicken Florentine crepe please."

"Anything to drink with that?" She asked as she notated his order on a pad of paper.

Pinocchio shook his head. "Just a glass of water."

"Coming right up," she said as she wrote it down. "You sure you don't want anything else with Chicken Florentine crepe?"

"I'm sure," Pinocchio said as he raised an eyebrow in irritation.

"Okay, okay," she said as she punched some more buttons on the register. "That'll be $26.86."

Pinocchio opened his wallet and retrieved two bills, a ten and a twenty, and handed them to the woman behind the bar. "Keep the change."

"Thanks," she said with a grin. "I'll have your orders ready in a jiffy."

Daphne eyed Pinocchio somewhat warily as she walked over to one of the empty tables. "Thank you for dinner," she said softly as she sat. "And for the ride."

"You're welcome," he said with a sigh as he sat down across from her.

They sat in uncomfortable silence for a few moments, and the woman behind the counter brought Daphne her cup of coffee and Pinocchio's glass of water. "Let me know if you need anything else, okay?"

"Thank you," Daphne said as she looked up and read the woman's name tag. "Linda."

Linda smiled widely as she walked back over to make the orders. "That's my name, don't wear it out."

Daphne reached for her cup of coffee and stirred a packet of sugar into it. Then, she looked up at Pinocchio. "You seem to have something on your mind. Do you want to tell me what it is or should I guess?'

Pinocchio looked over at her with a skeptical eyebrow raised. "Why don't you guess? I'd love to hear what you think I'm thinking."

"I think you're uncomfortable being around me," Daphne said simply. "Which isn't terribly earth-shattering given our history. But it does beg the question why you were so worried about whether or not my car was going to make it in the snow, and why you've insisted on buying me dinner and taking me home."

Pinocchio was silent as if he was formulating his answer. He toyed with his glass of water for a moment before he looked up. "Your grandmother took me in when I had no where to go. I owe a debt to her—nothing more."

"I see," Daphne said with a simple nod. The answer hurt Daphne almost physically, but she couldn't believe that Pinocchio actually felt that way. His behavior, although protective, had been a different brand of protective than that of Mr. Canis or even of her father.

It was the kind of protectiveness that Daphne had seen in Puck when Sabrina had announced she was pregnant a second time. It was the kind of protectiveness that Henry had for Veronica whenever she was trying to help Everafters for whom Henry had particular distrust.

Daphne sipped at her coffee, and she could feel Pinocchio's eyes resting on her.

"So, that's it?" He asked after a moment. "You're not going to grill me?"

"Why should I?" She asked as she looked up with a simple shrug. "It's obvious that you've shut down the lines of communication. You're short-tempered with everyone—including innocent bystanders—and you're going from hot to cold in your affections. I assume if there was something really wrong, you'd say something. But I'm enough of a psychologist to know when you're not going to tell me anything."

Pinocchio seemed surprised, but he sat back and lifted his glass. "Good," he said as he took a drink.

"One Nutella and strawberry crepe with whipped cream," Linda said as she placed the plate in front of Daphne. She turned to Pinocchio. "Your crepe's going to take a little longer, but I'll have it out in no time."

Pinocchio nodded impatiently as Daphne began to cut her crepe with a knife and fork.

"Linda, this is delicious," Daphne said as she turned a bright smile to the waitress and chef after her first bite. "I'm sorry there isn't anyone else around to enjoy your cooking."

"Oh, don't worry about me," Linda said with a cheery chuckle. "I've got plenty to keep me busy."

She turned on the radio before she turned to her guests. "Do you mind if I keep an ear on the weather?"

"Go ahead," Daphne said with a smile. "In fact, we'd probably better listen pretty closely to the road closings and all that." She turned an eye to Pinocchio. "They may change our plans."

"So where are you folks headed?" Linda asked as she busied herself making Pinocchio's crepe.

"A little town a couple of hours from here called Ferryport Landing," Daphne said as she prepared to take another bite. "I was here as a guest lecturer for a professor friend of mine. I ran into my friend while I was there."

"I was at the symposium on Constitutional law," Pinocchio quipped.

"Sounds like fate to me," Linda said cheerfully. "I mean, you two meet at NYU—where neither of you usually are—and you come to me on your way to Ferryport Landing. I had family in Ferryport Landing a long time ago."

"Did you?" Daphne asked as she perked up.

Linda nodded. "My sister owned a diner in town. She moved away a few years back. Said something about wanting to see the world."

Daphne turned to Pinocchio as her mind ran with possibilities. Was this the Blue Fairy's sister? Did the Blue Fairy even have a sister?

Linda seemed to sense her thoughts because she offered the woman a knowing smile as she delivered Pinocchio's crepe to him. "You're the Grimm girl, aren't you? I met your mother a few years ago. Lovely woman. Was sad when she disappeared and happy when she came back." Linda motioned to the walls around her. "If it wasn't for Veronica Grimm, I wouldn't have this place here." She turned to Daphne with a small smile. "And that's the truth."

"You're the Blue Fairy's sister," Daphne whispered as if testing out her theory like a child tested the water of a lake with their toe.

Linda nodded. "No one knows about me—my story was never collected."

"Well, I'd be happy to write your story down, if you'd like," Daphne said with a grin.

"Maybe someday," Linda said with a nod. She motioned to Pinocchio. "Seems to me that you have bigger fish to fry."

Pinocchio seemed to be somewhat perturbed at the thought of being compared with a fish. "Thank you, Linda," he said with a simmering frustration at the woman's constant chatter.

"I can take a hint," Linda said as she walked back over to the stoves.

"So, you won't talk, and you won't let me talk, is that it?" Daphne asked as she took another bite of her crepe.

Pinocchio rolled his eyes. "I don't care what you do. Just leave me out of it."

Daphne shook her head. "You started this. You threw me over your shoulder and took me to your car. Then, you proceeded to insist that you pay for my dinner, and that you drive me back to my house. I don't think you actually want me to leave you out of it."

She cut a piece of her crepe and offered it to him with her other hand under the crepe to catch anything that should slip out of the thin pancake. "Here, try this."

"I don't want to."

"I know you're watching your cholesterol levels," Daphne said in a soothing voice. "But I also know that you like Nutella. And strawberries." She caught his gaze with her own. "One bite isn't going to kill an Everafter like you."

Pinocchio sighed for a moment as he took the bite that Daphne offered. "There. Happy now?"

"Terribly. But it has nothing to do with whether or not you'll eat my crepe," she said with a teasing smile.

"Then why are you happy?' Pinocchio asked as he put down his own fork.

"I don't let circumstances dictate my emotions," Daphne said soberly. "I know that I can choose to be happy when other people choose not to be happy. I can make the decision to be offended or grateful or anything else—regardless of what other people think I should do. It's my choice."

Pinocchio looked thoughtful and looked down at his crepe for a moment. "And what about when my choices affect someone else's happiness? Does this philosophy absolve everyone of meddling with other people's feelings?"

Daphne waited until he looked back up at her to answer. "I didn't meddle in your feelings, Pinocchio," she assured him. "I didn't think we had the right timing, that's all."

"You broke up with me because you weren't sure you were ready to get married," Pinocchio said pointedly. "And I think it's interesting that you hinted around that that was the issue though you never said it outright."

Daphne looked down at her hands in shame for a moment before she looked back up at him. "That was ten years ago. I was twenty years old. I was young."

"Is that supposed to make it right?" He challenged.

"No," Daphne said with a shake of her head. "While I stand behind the decision I made ten years ago, I didn't make it without some regrets."

"What kind of regrets?" Pinocchio asked almost suspiciously.

"That our bad timing seemed to doom us to be alone for the last ten years—and maybe even longer," Daphne said quietly.

Pinocchio studied her for a moment as if he was unsure of what to say.

They seemed to have hit the heart of their troubles, Daphne realized. But before she could say anything, Linda turned up the volume on the radio. "Listen to this, you two."

The news bulletin on the radio announced that the highway which led to Ferryport Landing was closed until the weather had improved.

"Residents of New York City are being asked, wherever possible, to remain in their homes and wait out the storm," the news anchor said.

"Guess this is one of those times when you get to make your own decision about how you feel instead of letting your circumstances dictate it," Linda quipped.

Daphne sighed as she watched the blood drain from Pinocchio's face. It seemed there was nothing worse to him than spending an indeterminate amount of time with her. Despite her exhortations to choose your emotions for yourself instead of allowing circumstances to determine them, Daphne felt her heart sink at the thought of Pinocchio wanting to spend as little time with her as he could—that she was a duty and a debt to be repaid rather than someone to be loved or cared for.

Daphne turned to Linda. "I guess it's a good thing I got the all-nighter special," she said with a weak smile. "How about another crepe?"