Regina climbed each step of the loft's stairs, making her one step closer to killing Mary Margaret. She faced the door and waved her hand, unlocking the wooden latch on the other side. A good idea before the curse broke – and before magic arrived in Storybrooke – but now? Now it didn't stand a chance. She pushed the door open and entered the apartment. She looked around and smirked when she saw Mary Margaret in the bed before taking off her black leather glove. This is too easy.

Beside Mary Margaret, she saw an unfamiliar brunette sleeping beside her. She tilted her head. Who was she? It didn't matter to her. She was here for one person only. She moved straight over to her nemesis, but Mr Gold appeared in front of her before she could do anything.

"Nice try, dearie," he said. "Did you think it was gonna be that easy?"

Regina stepped sideways and faced Mary Margaret. "He can't be your guard dog forever." Mary Margaret looked up, and the Professor appeared from behind the wall. He was silent, but he eyed her. And then, Clara.

Regina didn't stay long, though. She turned around and left. As she did, though, Clara began to stir in her sleep. She was waking up.

Clara opened her eyes slowly and turned around. She could see two men standing over her. One with shoulder-length hair, and the other had shorter, brown hair, paired with a slight beard. Feeling a small, instant attraction, she took a deep breath. She turned around slightly and saw she wasn't the only one on the bed. Beside her was another woman. She had shorter hair than her own – quite a lot shorter – and was in pyjamas. She sat up. This wasn't her bed. Or her home. In fact, where was she? What had happened?

She turned to the two men and started to approach them. "Hello?"

The Professor turned around first. Then so did Mr Gold. "Hello," the Professor said back.

"Are you alright, dearie?" Mr Gold asked.

"I was in bed," Clara answered. "Not my bed. Not my place. Where am I?"

"A little town called Storybrooke."

"You're in Maine," the Professor replied.

"America?" Clara asked. She was not expecting that. "But, how?"

"My father brought you over. You met him earlier, I believe. The Doctor?"

"He's your father? You two look the same age."

"You'll be wondering that a lot about the people here," Mr Gold stated.

Clara put one hand on her hip and bit her thumbnail. "Okay. Who are you?"

"Oh. I'm the Professor," the Professor said. "And this is Rumplestiltskin. Oh, and the woman over there is Snow White."

Clara was taken back by that. "But, they're fairytales. Rumplestiltskin is a fairy tale. And so is Snow

White. My mother read Snow White to me as a child every night. I loved it."

"Those stories are quite real, dearie," Mr Gold said.

"Every story that ever happened is real," the Professor added.

"So, I'm here to make me believe again?" Clara asked.

"No, no. You're here because my father thought you'd be safest here."

Clara nodded slowly. "I can't be in America, though. I have a job."

"He sorted that all out for you," the Professor replied. "Look, how about we go for a walk through the town? And I can catch you up?"

Clara nodded. "Sure."

The two left the apartment, leaving Mr Gold with Mary Margaret, and walked down the stairs. As they did, the Professor filled her in on the town of Storybrooke. And why the Doctor had brought her to Storybrooke. She was beginning to understand, but there was something she wasn't quite ready for. Something that brought a lump to her stomach.

Snow White killed someone? Was she responsible for someone's death? "What?" she asked. "But Snow White is supposed to have the purest heart?" Or, at least, that's how the stories went.

"She does. Or did," the Professor said. "That's why she feels bad about it. However, she did it to protect her family. To protect her daughter and grandson."

"And they have lived in Storybrooke all their lives?"

The Professor shook his head. "They come from a bubble universe, just attached to the outer shell of this universe. Then, twenty-eight years ago, the Queen cast a curse that sent everyone here. To a small pocket of Maine, hidden from the real world, with no idea who they were. Where time stayed still, and no one aged."

They had returned to the clock tower again, and Clara looked up at it. Then at something behind it. A faint light. One that was coming closer and brighter. "Umm, what's that?" She asked, pointing at the object.

The Professor looked up at it and then around Main Street. Behind him, there was a man. Someone he had never seen before in Storybrooke. Someone who whirred. "They found us," he said. "Or, you." The Professor took her hand. "You and me, inside the building now."

Clara looked down at their hands. "I'm sorry. What?"

"Just get inside," the Professor said again before looking around Main Street again. All the lights were coming on. But brighter, though, since it was still day out. He took a breath. "Look around you."

"What's going on?" she asked. "What's happening? Is the wifi switching on the lights?"

"No. The people are switching on the lights. The wifi's switching on the people," the Professor answered his gaze on the robot again, seeing the man's head turn around to reveal a satellite dish where the back of his head would be.

"What is that thing?"

"A walking base station. Dad told me you saw one earlier."

"I saw a little girl."

"They must take an image from your subconscious and throw it back at you, like active camouflage. They could be everywhere. And if they're here, that means even Storybrooke isn't safe. Not anymore." He looked at the lights again. It was just Main Street with the lights shining bright. No other street. "We must be one hell of a target right now." He took a breath before hearing a roar. The roar of an aeroplane engine. One that was growing louder with every passing second. "You know, some planes have wifi."

They looked up and saw that there was a plane headed straight for them - growing closer with each second. Retaking Clara's hand, the Professor used his spare hand and waved it – engulfing the two of them in a whirl of blue smoke and poofing them to the back of the same plane they were watching just before.

"What was that? How did we get here?" Clara asked, looking around.

"Magic. I poofed us to the plane," the Professor said as he made his way down the aisle to the cockpit, with Clara following close behind.

"Are they all dead?" Clara asked, looking at all the unconscious people in their seats.

"I doubt it. I imagine the wifi put them to sleep," the Professor explained, just as he got to the cockpit. He looked at all the controls, frantically thinking about what to do. So many controls and buttons. Unlike the TARDIS.

"What is going on? Is this real? Please tell me what is happening!" she screamed.

"Well, I can't fly a plane. Too many buttons. Can you?"

"No..." Clara answered meekly.

"Well, let's learn together," he said as he grabbed the wheel and started to pull the plane up. As he did, two things happened: Clara grabbed hold of him tightly, and the plane began to lift back up into the sky. And once the plane was safely in the sky, both the Professor and Clara exclaimed in delight before the two pilots started to wake up.

"What the Hell's going on?" Asked one pilot.

"Well..." the Professor said, as he flicked a switch, "I've just blocked your wifi, so you're all waking up. Now, please … I'll let you drive." That was too much excitement for him.