Author's Notes: I do not own Once Upon A Time which is a show on ABC where I will come up with a clever comment later. Anyway, thanks for the reads and reviews. I'm so sorry I haven't gotten back to anyone. I will soon. Please let me know what you think and happy reading!


November 23, 2013

It was here.

It was finally here.

The Day of the Doctor.

Beatrice had waited for this day basically fifty years. As the television played the marathon of episodes leading up to the final event, Beatrice made her final preparations.

"Blue cupcakes?," Gold asked.

"Yeah, what else would they be?"

Gold looked around at the preparations. In addition to the cupcakes, there were specially ordered Jammie Dodgers and Jelly Babies, along with a selection of drinks, bananas and what seemed to be fish sticks and pudding.

"How many people did you invite?," asked Gold.

Beatrice shrugged. "Well, Henry, Aurora, Ariel, Neal, but I'm pretty sure they're going to blow me off. Oh, and Joseph."

"Excuse me?," asked Gold.

"He sort of saved me from my head bleeding on the floor of August's trailer, I kind of have to offer cupcakes," said Beatrice.

"You invited him here?"

"Mom said it was okay."

"Did she?"

"Everything magical is locked away. Besides, he's not coming."

Despite his relief that the dreaded boy would not be there, he did arrive at the conclusion that his daughter was preparing a party that she did not expect anyone to attend.

He simply kissed her on the cheek. "I will leave you to it then. I'll be at the shop."

Beatrice continued with her preparations and as predicted, none of the invited guests arrived. At quarter to two, she began setting up her watching space in front of the TV in the living room when the doorbell rang.

She looked at Martha.

"Oh, God help them if they think I am doing some magical crisis right now. Jack and Jill can just roll down that stupid hill for the rest of their lives for all I care."

She got up and went to the door, fully prepared to chew out anyone who dared to encroach upon this sacred hour and she found Joseph on the front step.

"Joseph," she said. "You actually came."

"Was I not supposed to do that?"

"No, it's just you said you don't watch TV."

"You invited me."

"Yes, I did."

Beatrice stepped aside as Martha bounded up to Joseph, eager to greet the visitor.

"Hello, girl," said Joseph, rubbing her behind the ears. "How are you?"

"I have snacks," said Beatrice, leading him into the kitchen. "Um, we have tea. Real tea, not in a bag."

"That would be lovely."

"I unfortunately have no idea what to do after you boil the water," said Beatrice.

"I think I can manage. Is this it?," he asked, picking up a gold tin.

"Yeah," said Beatrice, who was suddenly very aware she was in yoga pants and a Doctor Who tee. "Excuse me one second."

Beatrice ran upstairs and into her room, searching for a outfit that was better than what she had on, but in no way conveyed actual interest.

Because she wasn't interested. Neither was he. He was just British. They were super polite. Still, she looked like a schlub. She went hunting for the TARDIS leggings she had just gotten in the mail, the a black tunic sweater and ballet flats. She brushed out her hair and hurried back down.

"You changed your clothes," said Joseph.

"Yeah, I got something on those," said Beatrice.

"What do you drink?"

"What?"

"I've never seen you with hot tea."

"I drink it when I'm sick."

"Your program's starting."

Beatrice's face dropped as she realized she heard a countdown on the television in the next room. She flew in just as a picture of the Second Doctor flashed up and took her seat.

It was about thirty minutes in when Beatrice noticed that Joseph had not said anything. She looked over to see him eating his blue cupcake.

"You haven't said anything."

"You invited me for a party to watch a television show, I assumed you wanted to watch it."

"Yeah, thanks." She looked back. "Crap, I missed something."

"The glass on the paintings was broken from the inside."

"What?"

"Whatever came into the archive came from inside the paintings. You can tell by the shatter pattern. I haven't seen much of this show, but I assume this is the sort of thing that's within the realm of possibility?"

"Yeah."

The doorbell rang. Martha stood to attention.

"Oh, seriously," said Beatrice.

"I'll get it," Joseph volunteered, getting up.

Joseph returned. "It's your brother, the sheriff, the town handyman and the town psychiatrist."

"What?," asked Beatrice as the four filed into the room.

Neal pointed at Joseph. "Who's he?"

Beatrice paused the show. "He's my friend and he actually came to the party I invited him to. Thanks for finally coming to the party by the way. Now, have a TARDIS blue cupcake and be quiet."

"Beatrice, we are looking for your father," said Marco.

"We need to know what he did to August," said Neal.

Joseph looked curiously at Neal.

"Though maybe we could do that someplace else," Emma suggested.

"Where is he?," asked Neal.

"He's at the shop," said Beatrice.

"We were just there!"

"Then I don't know and leave me alone."

She reached for the remote as Neal swiped it from her and turned the television off.

Beatrice dropped her jaw. "Are you insane?!"

Emma rolled her eyes. "Neal, don't be an idiot."

"We're talking about real people, not a television show," said Neal.

"It is not a television show!," Beatrice protested. "It is a global simulcast television event and you are making me miss it."

He glanced at Joseph. "Other room. Now."

Beatrice reluctantly got up as her remote control left the room. "Excuse me."

Emma followed her and shut the door behind them.

"Are you siding with him?," asked Neal.

"Siding with him? What?," asked Beatrice.

"Neal," said Emma, "you are being really unfair."

"Beatrice, you don't know half the stuff he's done. Now, what has he done to August?"

"Look, as far as I know, he hasn't done anything and he promised he wouldn't kill him."

Neal snorted.

"He keeps his promises," said Beatrice. "And it was those exact words. If he lies, it's by omission. Or word choice."

Emma nodded. "Okay, she makes a good point."

"Like the time he let me go through a portal to another world?"

"Oh, the one you wanted to go to?"

"What?," asked Neal.

Beatrice tried to backtrack, quickly regretting that the words had left her mouth. "Nothing."

"No, if you have something to say, say it-"

"Neal, lay off," warned Emma.

"He's your friend, too, Emma."

"Yeah and I want to make sure he's okay, but I don't think berating your baby sister is the way to do it."

"Emma, you don't know what he's like when he wants to be and neither does she. He is so screwed up as a father."

"What? You mean like the time he gave up his soul to save you from getting slaughtered by ogres?," Beatrice said before she could stop the words leaving her mouth.

"Do you really want to go there, Bea?"

"Stop making me go there. Okay, maybe he's not going to win any father of the year awards, but the way I see it, neither are you since you framed your pregnant girlfriend for a watch heist or whatever."

"I didn't know."

"Oh, well I guess it's all okay then," Beatrice snapped.

"Guys, this isn't getting us anywhere," said Emma. "Beatrice, do you have any ideas about how we can find August?"

"Guy who hit me in the head," Beatrice reminded her.

"Yeah, I know, not exactly my favorite person, either," said Emma.

Beatrice walked over to the china cabinet. Waving her hand a drawer popped open.

"When did you learn that?," asked Neal.

Beatrice rolled her eyes. "Just blood magic." She pulled out a bottle and handed it to Emma. "Your basic locator spell. Pour it on an object that belonged to the person and it will lead you to them. For safety reasons, I am going to suggest you don't use his typewriter."

"Thanks," said Emma.

"How do we know that's what it is?," asked Neal.

"Excuse me?," asked Beatrice.

"Neal!," Emma exclaimed.

"I have to take Dark Princess crap from everyone else, do I have to take it from you now, too?"

"I didn't say anything," said Neal, walking out.

Emma looked back. "Are you okay?"

"Fine. Go do the finding August thing."


Today

"Mom. Flying Monkeys."

Belle looked up to see Beatrice and Joseph rushing in the shop. She had come here to help Rumple, but he was back searching through Neal's apartment for anything that might be useful.

"Flying Monkeys?," asked Belle.

"Like there are Flying Monkeys."

Martha emerged from the backroom. She bounded up to Joseph, surprising everyone, putting her front paws on him.

"Sorry," said Beatrice, trying to pull the dog down. "She doesn't normally do that."

"No, it's fine," said Joseph.

Belle shook her head. "Flying Monkeys. I've read about them, of course. They're only found in one land. Oz."

"Yeah, well, check out my ringtone," said Beatrice, getting out her iPhone. She played it.

"Wicked!," Belle gasped.

"So, you're suggesting that you knew you were about to lose your memory," said Joseph. "Knowing this, you tried to leave a clue for yourself."

"The Flying Monkeys would suggest I am right," said Beatrice.

"I think she may be right," said Belle, turning back towards the shelves of magical tomes. "All morning, I've been lamenting that these were out of order. There are several volumes about Oz and every time I go to find a new locator spell, I happen to find one."

"Did you go to Oz?," asked Beatrice.

Belle shook her head. "No, I only know what I've read."

"And what about the Wicked Witch?," asked Beatrice. "Did you meet her? I think Dad knows her."

"I never met her and your papa never mentioned her."

"We aren't related, are we?"

"Beatrice..." said Belle.

"Why would you think that?," asked Joseph.

"Because I've got a history of this. Merlin, Peter Pan-"

"Peter Pan?," asked Joseph.

"It is even more messed up than you think," said Beatrice.

Gold entered. He looked at Beatrice.

"Why is there a frozen Flying Monkey sitting in the bed of Charming's truck?"

"Because we caught it," said Beatrice.

He looked from Joseph to her. "You caught it."

"Yeah, we went to the town line-"

"The town line," said Gold, approaching closer.

"Yeah and listen to my ringtone!"

Gold stood nonplussed through the playing of the song.

"Beatrice, I fail to understand the significance of this."

"It's Wicked! The Wicked Witch of the West! That's who cursed us!"

Gold didn't say anything.

"Rumple?," Belle finally asked.

Gold looked at her. "I think you ought to take Beatrice home and not come out until I have dealt with this problem."

"So you do know her," said Joseph.

"I wasn't talking to you, dearie," Gold snarled.

"You know her and you don't want your family to know you know her which means you're either embarrassed or frightened. Perhaps a bit of both. Sending them home, though, with those particular instructions suggests that you are frightened for them-"

"You can shut up now," said Gold.

"Which with a woman usually suggests something personal..." Joseph said as he could not stop himself from finishing the sentence,

"Rumple, who is she?," asked Belle.

"Her name is Zelena and she is Cora's daughter."

"Oh, God," said Beatrice, burying her face in her hands. "Not this again!"

Gold stared in confusion at her.

Beatrice looked up at him. "No surprise relatives! That's all I asked! I just wanted to know if I was related to anyone else who might be a fairy tale or a myth or a nursery rhyme or a Pixar short and consistently, this is the one thing people can't give me. Why couldn't it have been Regina? I know she's a psychopath, but at least she doesn't have flying monkeys!"

Gold shook his head. "What are you talking about?"

"This is the part where you break it to me I have a half-sister."

"No," said Gold. "Zelena was born before I knew Cora."

"She was?"

"How did you know her?," asked Belle.

"She was my pupil for a time. I was training her to cast the Dark Curse. She proved too unstable to the task."

"Because the woman with the roomful of hearts was the stable one?," asked Joseph.

"You know the price of the Dark Curse," said Gold. "The thing she wanted to sacrifice, I didn't want to."

"Wow, really?," said Beatrice. "You had to go there."

"There was no there," said Gold. "I wasn't interested."

"You never mentioned her," said Belle.

"Because you didn't need to know."

"Well, I do now!"

Gold motioned at Beatrice.

Belle relented and turned to her daughter. "Why don't you go to Granny's? I think Mary Margaret mentioned she was going there. Ask her to come back to the shop so we can all discuss this."

"You're sending me away for the argument?," Beatrice asked.

"Go," said Gold.

Beatrice shot a look at her parents. "Fine, next thing you know I'm going to end up related to Buzz Lightyear..."


November 23, 2013

Left alone with Marco and Archie, Joseph excused himself to the bathroom.

Presumably, Beatrice and her brother wouldn't argue long. Beatrice should have won any argument handily. That left the upstairs out, the one room readily available appeared to be a study, thought it seemed to be mostly library. There was a great cabinet with dark wood and he went to open the doors, finding he couldn't. Upon closer examination, Joseph couldn't even find a lock. He was very tempted to break it open, but that would definitely give away that he had been looking.

Antiques. Antiques everywhere, though Gold didn't seem to focus on any one period. Cream Victorian armchairs. Louis XV French style sofa. Tiffany lamps. A typewriter from the 1960s. A mahogany grandfather clock, various little porcelain statuettes including a unicorn and for some reason an antique Mickey Mouse radio.

He went to the books. Organized by the Dewey Decimal system, no doubt the work of the lady of the house. They were a curious mix of first editions, vintage editions and recent hardcovers.

He then noticed a book sitting in a glass case. Beyond antique, more like extremely old. A folio. Much Ado About Nothing. Oh, yes. Beatrice? There was a Beatrice in there, wasn't there? He retained so little of the literature school tried to force upon him.

Time was getting away. He turned to a desk. The pictures were facing outwards and judging by the dust behind the chair, no one ever sat there. The photographs were going to be more useful than whatever had been left in the desk. So, Gold and Belle. One of Gold, Belle, Beatrice. Gold, Belle, Beatrice, Neal, Henry. They all seemed to be recent. Beatrice took up a generous portion of the photos. Baby Beatrice, Toddler Beatrice, Child Beatrice. Always with glasses, she didn't seem like a contact lens wearer, so it must have been LASIK. Sometime last year because none of the pictures with the brother had them.

Always with Belle. Younger Beatrice was either alone or she was with Belle, like the photo posed in front of the Cinderella's Castle at Walt Disney World. Gold might have taken them so he looked at that one closer. A passing tourist off to the side in mirrored sunglasses looked with annoyance at the photographer who seemed to have an oddly bright plaid waistcoat and brown trousers. He hesitated to recall his family's own holiday to Disney World, his brother and sister had enjoyed themselves, but it was two weeks of him having to pretend that Mickey Mouse wasn't played by a girl who was only 4'11. How could no one else see that?! Yes, though, the outfit was a uniform. Gold hadn't taken the photo.

One solitary photo of younger Beatrice and Gold. She was in his lap grasping a white and gold blanket in her hands.

The blanket wasn't in any of the other photos. The way she was holding it in that photo, she was compulsive with it as children often were with such security objects. It surely would have featured in the Christmas morning photos.

She had no glasses on. It couldn't have been vanity. The glasses were in every other photo and this one appeared to have been taken in the front room in their regular dress, it wasn't a special occasion where one might ask a child to remove her glasses, though neither Belle or Gold seemed as if they were the sort to care.

It had been too long.

His absence ought to have been felt by now.

Joseph went back out to the living room. The visitors had left. Beatrice sat in front of the television but had not restarted her show.

"Beatrice?"

"Yeah, were you ready to start again?"

Her eyes were just the slightest bit red. She seemed just the slightest bit congested.

She had been crying and she was trying to hide it as one might for a guest, to spare the awkwardness and the embarrassment, but it was more than that.

Beatrice was practiced at trying to hide when she was crying. What sort of girl did that? Certainly not one whose parents doted on her as he had observed every moment. No, there was something else about her, some sadness...

"What did your brother say?"

Beatrice shook her head. "What makes you think he said anything?"

"You shared a birthday party with the sheriff which means she's not annoyed by you, she thinks of you as a friend and the separation in your ages means there's no opportunities for petty little fights or a conflict over lovers. She wouldn't make you cry. The psychiatrist and the handyman, they're too worried about the handyman's son, they wouldn't dare do anything to offend you and consequently your father. That leaves us with your brother. Child of the second wife, maybe he resents that you've had the easier childhood, maybe he thinks you got the better end of your father's parenting, he may not admit it, he may not even be conscious of it, but all resentment comes out in one form or another."

"Something like that," said Beatrice.

"You think he's right."

Beatrice looked over as Joseph sat down.

"There's stuff about my dad," Beatrice said carefully. "It's sort of like we got two different fathers and he doesn't really like the one I have, but he's the only one I have."

"Oh," said Joseph.

Beatrice shook her head. "Never mind. It's too weird." She put on a smile. "Let's finish the show since the rest of the globe probably has."


Today

Beatrice and Joseph walked into Granny's. They quickly spotted Mary Margaret talking to a woman with red hair.

"Mary Margaret," said Beatrice. "We need to have a meeting."

"What? Here?"

"No, the shop. Soon."

"Oh, well, just give me a minute. I was just talking to Sally. She's a midwife," Mary Margaret said excitedly.

"My mom just got you a midwife."

"Always good to get a second opinion," offered Sally.

"Excuse us," said Joseph, dragging Beatrice away by the arm.

"Okay, what?," asked Beatrice.

"That woman doesn't like us," said Joseph.

Beatrice glanced back at Sally. "That woman I've never met in my life doesn't like either of us?"

"Or us together. It's in her eyes."

"What us? There is no us."

"Did you see it?"

"See what?"

"You would have to be blind not to notice it."

"What are you talking about?"

"The giant emerald around her neck? Actually, not quite emerald, but my point is that it's a giant green stone of some sort."

"What? You think she's the Wicked Witch?"

"Why else is she making friends with Snow White? Is there anything special about her baby?"

"What?"

"Why else would she be posing as a midwife? She needs access to the child, what better way to get it? What's special about the baby?"

Beatrice rolled her eyes out of embarrassment. "Babies born of True Love. They're sort of... magical. Emma broke the first curse. I..."

Joseph raised an eyebrow.

"I do stuff."

"So, the Wicked Witch and a magical baby, I suppose that would be bad?"

"Yeah."

"Okay," said Joseph. He looked around and picked a bucket off the floor that was left by an abandoned mop. "Where's a faucet?"

"What are you doing?," asked Beatrice.

"Wicked Witch. Bucket of water. I may not have an extensive knowledge of storybook characters, but I do know that much."

"You want to just throw a bucket of water at her?"

"That was the course of action I was suggesting."

"What if she's not the Wicked Witch?"

"Then the worst case scenario is that we've been rude. Best case scenario is that she melts."

"Well, maybe I can call my dad-"

"If she is the Wicked Witch, she'll be scared off. Now, go talk to her while I get some water."

Joseph walked off. Beatrice went back to the table.

"So..." said Beatrice. She looked back at the woman calling herself Sally. "You're new."

Her smile never wavered. "I missed the last curse."

"Wow, that must have sucked for you..."

Mary Margaret eyed her suspiciously. "Beatrice, are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm good, hey, guess what was at the town line?"

Mary Margaret shook her head.

"Flying Monkey."

"A what?"

"Basically, it's a monkey with wings. So, we are pretty much dealing with the Wicked Witch of the West. Did you see Wicked? Anyway, she's supposed to be crazy."

A sideways glance at Sally showed that her cheeks were burning. Beatrice tried to hide that Joseph was approaching with the now-filled bucket.

"Anyway, so it turns out I missed a lot on Doctor Who. It turns out there was a doctor between Eight and Nine that John Hurt played-"

That was about when a bucket of water landed on Sally.

Mary Margaret looked up at Joseph in shock. "What did you do that for?"

The diners looked up in shock. 'Sally' stood. She looked up at Joseph and Beatrice, waving her hand to dry herself with magic.

"Is this the part where I'm supposed to say I'm melting? That little trick only worked in Oz, Dark Princess, and it didn't even work then."

"I've never been to Oz," said Beatrice.

"Memory problems, dear? Such a shame. Then you don't remember me or what I want or even..." She glanced at Joseph and smirked. "No, that would be giving it away, wouldn't it?"

Beatrice glared at her. "Where is my brother?"

"You needn't worry about him. Once I have what I need, everything changes."

"Where is he?"

"Is that what you're worried about? When there's so much more to do?" She leaned forward to Beatrice. "When I'm through, everyone is going to know who the most powerful in all the realms is and it won't be you, Princess."

Beatrice glared at Zelena. "How am I supposed to give a damn if I have no idea what you're talking about?"

"I know. It's wicked of me. Then again, I am wicked," she said with a laugh and disappeared.

"Puns?!," asked Beatrice. "Seriously?!"


November 23, 2013

Emma poured the locator spell on Pinocchio's hat. She and Neal pursued it, just in case he had become kindling at Gold's hands or gone through an enchanted woodchipper. In any case, Emma didn't want Marco and Archie there.

They followed it throughout Storybrooke.

"Why were you such an ass to your sister?," Emma finally asked.

"Excuse me? She was the one-"

"You hassled her about your dad and about magic," said Emma. "She can't do anything about either one of those things."

"She can help the magic," said Neal.

Emma shook her head. "I don't think it's that easy for her."

"Why not? You don't use your magic."

Emma eyed Neal.

"There," he said, pointing at the hat as it flew into the library.

They walked in to see Mrs. Foley behind the desk.

"Sheriff?," she asked, eyeing the hat.

"Was August here?," asked Neal.

She shook her head. "No."

Merlin came down the staircase holding the hat. "It looks like someone learned to use a locator spell."

"Beatrice said it would lead to the owner of the object."

"Or the last place they were," the wizard offered.

"Merlin, have you seen August?," asked Emma as Mrs. Foley stepped away from the circulation desk.

"Not since two days ago," said Merlin.

"What happened two days ago?," asked Neal.

"Pinocchio came to me, I offered to help him transform back to flesh, but he wouldn't have it. Some Blue Fairy nonsense," said Merlin.

"What did you do to him?," asked Neal.

"I took him where he wanted to go," said Merlin. "The Enchanted Forest."

"Did Gold give you a magic bean?," asked Emma.

"You forget, Savior, I can go between realms."

"Yeah, but just you," said Emma. "Not another person."

"Well, in this case Mr. Booth was less of a person and more of a puppet. I can take puppets."

Neal shook his head. "Figures."

"He asked me, I took him," said Merlin. "And seeing as the wood appears to have eaten away at his brain in regards to Beatrice, I thought it was a fair solution since we already sent Moe and most of the Round Table back."

Emma tried to take that in, but Neal was on full attack.

"And what about his dad? He's worried."

"His father isn't my problem," said Merlin. "Beatrice is my problem. I did what was best for her and incidentally saved him from being turned into firewood by your father."

"Why is it always about what's best for Beatrice?," asked Neal. "Why is it never about anyone else?"

"For me, it's about what is best for her."

"Yeah, I know."

"Neal, now is not the time-" said Emma.

"Something you want to say, Baelfire?"

"Yeah, why did you have to screw up my life?," asked Neal.

"When you came to me, what did I say?," asked Merlin.

"Don't-"

"What did I say?"

Neal shook his head. "Don't try to put this on me."

"I warned you that any attempt to strip your father of his powers would end badly and look where we are. I'm not saying you bear the responsibility for the Dark Curse nor do I even blame you for believing what that floating blue tart told you, but I never meant you any harm. This was never my plan."

Neal stormed out. Merlin handed Emma the hat.

"Would you like to berate me?," asked Merlin.

Emma shook her head. "No. I know what I would do if someone hurt Henry and he's alive. I don't know if I could have done a lot better."

"There's still always the chance for a happy ending," said Merlin.

"How do you figure?"

"So long as there's life, there's hope," said Merlin. "Perhaps Mr. Booth will see the error of his ways."

"Yeah, I just wish I could figure out why Neal is being a jerk."

"Three hundred years."

"Excuse me?"

"Three hundred years of anger, resentment, abandonment," said Merlin. "It had to come out some time. Don't you watch talk shows?"

"Yeah, but he acted fine before," said Emma. "We were all at Christmas together. We went on a quest to Neverland."

"And you?"

Emma shrugged. "What about me?"

"Your parents sent you away. Are you fine with it yet?"

Emma froze.

"No," she finally answered quietly.


Beatrice and Joseph finally finished watching the special, then retreated into the kitchen where they noshed on Beatrice's selection of Doctor Who-themed snacks.

"You made a party," remarked Joseph.

"Sorry?"

He motioned at the snacks. "You made a party. You assembled... what are those? Marshmallow people?"

"Adipose."

He eyed her and she shrugged. "There was like this pill and people's fat just sort of walked out of them..."

"Anyway, how many did you invite?"

Beatrice shrugged. "No one I expected to come."

"Am I included in that number?"

Beatrice nodded. "You are definitely included in that number."

"Then what sort of girl makes cupcakes for guests that she knows won't come?"

Beatrice shook her head and occupied herself with cleaning imaginary cupcake crumbs. "Clearly a moron."

"The sort of girl who wishes they would come."

"Well, wishes are for morons."

"I don't know," mused Joseph.

"Oh."

They both looked up to see Belle carrying a tote of books.

"Don't let me interrupt," said Belle.

"No, we were just wrapping up," said Beatrice. "We have a lot of cupcakes."

"Maybe later," said Belle, backing out of the room. "I will let you two finish."

Belle walked back in the living room and straight to where Martha was greeting Gold.

"Hey," he said, kissing Belle. "How was it?"

Belle shook her head. "The high school library is even more wretched than the elementary school library was."

"Well, you're there to help now," said Gold.

"What did Mrs. Collier do in our land?"

"I believe she was Regina's official boot polisher," he answered.

"Hardly a prerequisite," said Belle.

"Where's Beatrice?"

"She's in the kitchen. Don't go in there."

"And why wouldn't I?"

"Joseph's in there."

"What?," asked Gold. He began to walk towards the doorway. "I don't think so."

"Rumple," Belle said, grabbing him by the wrist, "please don't spoil this for her."

"He is-"

"The one person who came to her party," said Belle. "Do you see anyone else here?"

"Oh, he came to her party, by all means, let's marry her off!"

"Sorry," said Joseph.

They looked up to see him in the living room.

"I was just leaving. Excuse me," he said, walking out.

Beatrice appeared in the living room next. She immediately caught Gold's glare.

"I said I invited him," she said plaintively.

He rolled his eyes. "Not the point."

"So, was it like a date?," asked Belle.

"No, it was more like him taking pity on a dork and midway though her brother interrupted with a search party," said Beatrice.

"Bae was here?," asked Gold. "What did he want?"

The conversation flashed back through her mind.

"Just to find August," she said. "I still have TARDIS velvet cupcakes."

"TARDIS velvet?," asked Belle.

"Yeah, that's the name I'm going with," said Beatrice. "Plenty of them."

"I trust Mr. Gillette behaved himself," said Gold.

"Oh, my God, yes," groaned Beatrice.


Today

Beatrice, Joseph and Mary Margaret entered the pawn shop.

"Beatrice, what did you do that for?," asked Belle.

"You know?"

"Granny called." Belle hurried to squeeze Beatrice tightly. "What were you thinking?"

She pointed at Joseph.

"Well, sorry, I saw a Wicked Witch and a bucket. I thought I would actually try to solve the problem unlike her who was just about to get her baby delivered by her," said Joseph.

"What?," asked Emma looking at her mother in disbelief.

"I didn't know she was the Wicked Witch," Mary Margaret protested.

"Really?," asked Joseph. "Perfect stranger walks up to you, starts discussing midwifery and has a giant emerald at her neck, you just tell her everything?"

"I got you a midwife," said Belle.

"She said she knew Johanna."

"Said she knew her!," Joseph emphasized.

"I don't see what was so wrong with Leigh. You told me Doc delivered Emma," said Belle.

"Doc!," exclaimed Emma. "Doc delivered me?"

"Yes," said Mary Margaret.

"Is he even a real doctor?," asked Emma.

"You," said Merlin, emerging from the back room. He pointed at Beatrice. "What the hell am I supposed to do with a monkey in an ice cube?"

Beatrice shrugged. "I don't know. Magic stuff."

"I wanted to examine it," said Joseph.

"And what? Compare it to all the other flying monkeys you've seen?," he asked.

Gold and Regina came out of the back.

"Water?," Gold asked Beatrice.

"You know, at least we tried stuff," said Beatrice.

"Could we get on to discussing what level of psychopath your sister is?," asked Merlin.

"I don't have a sister," said Regina. "I think my mother would have mentioned it. I don't know what you all are playing at."

"Right because mothers always mention the children they gave up," said Joseph.

"Your sister?," asked Mary Margaret.

"Zelena is Cora's firstborn," said Gold.

Regina was livid. "Then why did I cast your curse?"

Beatrice motioned at Regina. "Because this is what we want to argue about."

"Wait, that blood magic thing," said Emma. "That's how she broke into your office."

Regina shook her head. "No."

"If you're going to be stupid, I quit," said Merlin. "Snow White and Prince Charming I expect it from, but not you."

"How was I supposed to know?!," asked Mary Margaret.

"Giant emerald," Joseph said.

"Oh, hey, I promised I would call Walsh," said Emma.

"Who's Walsh?," asked Beatrice.

"Her new boyfriend," said Mary Margaret. "He's so nice. He bakes homemade banana bread."

"Oh, by all means, stop and call your boyfriend," said Merlin.

"I had to spend all night in her car with those two," Regina said distastefully.

Beatrice looked at Gold. "Where did you put the Flying Monkey?"

"He's in the backroom," said Gold.

"Whose mobile is that?," asked Joseph.

Everyone got out their phones.

"Nobody has a song?," asked Joseph.

Beatrice shook her head. "Everyone here has flip phones because apparently Regina couldn't curse them with a decent cell phone carrier."

"I never heard complaints before you," said Regina.

"That's probably because you killed them," said Gold.

"It's coming from the back room," said Joseph.

He walked back as the others followed and that was when they noticed a light in the flying monkey ice cube and heard the ringing.

"What-" began Beatrice.

Joseph ripped the phone from Emma's hand and hung up.

"Hey!," Emma protested.

He redialed and the ringing began again.

"Oh, my God," said Emma.

"Your new boyfriend is a Flying Monkey," said Joseph.

"Okay, Charmings, you people aren't allowed to meet anyone new," said Beatrice.

"Okay, maybe the Flying Monkey stole his phone-" suggested Mary Margaret.

"And his wristwatch?," asked Joseph.

Emma's eyes widened. "Oh, God."

Regina scoffed. "Just when I thought your taste in men couldn't get any worse," she sneered.

"I'll handle this," said Gold.

"How?," asked Emma.

"The way I handle things."

"Gold, we need to work together," said Mary Margaret.

"Working together? You mean you come running to me with a problem and I solve it? As we normally do?"

"What do you intend to do?," asked Regina.

"Send the monkey back to his mistress and then I'll confront her," said Gold.

"Rumple..." said Belle.

"I have no intention of getting killed." He looked at Merlin. "You'll stay with them?"

Merlin nodded.

"And what do the rest of us do?," asked Emma.

"There's a witch from Oz called Glinda. She was exiled to the Enchanted Forest. Perhaps this new curse brought her over. You can find her," said Gold.

"Do you think she knows how to defeat the Wicked Witch?," asked Mary Margaret.

"Well, you had better hope she does," said Gold.

They dispersed.

"Hey, before I forget, does anybody have any idea why I might have been in Oz last year?," asked Beatrice.

Gold stopped his exit and turned. "You what?"

Joseph spoke up. "The Wicked Witch insinuated that they had met before in Oz and that she had let Beatrice think she beat her. I don't know the specifics, of course, but she did not seem pleased to see us."

"I'll be sure to ask her," said Gold.