A/N I am so sorry this took so long to update. I took a vacation and I have been having some problems with fanfiction for the past few days. Sorry for all of the trouble.

Anyway, updates should become a little more frequent now that my scheduled is back to normal. Reviews mean updates will come up more often, so please feel free to write a review. Thanks!


She was late for work. Yes this happened two out of every five days of the work week, but she still tried her hardest to run down the stairs fast enough to make up for the time she had wasted away by sleeping late. Dashing down the stairs of her apartment building she though she saw a firmiliar face. She saw a woman. The woman. Hair shoulder length. Black trench coat. A bit on the short side. They made eye contact briefly, her dark brown eyes seemed to bore through her head.

"Excuse me!" A voice called from behind. A man carrying a large box down the side walk bumped into her elbow.

"Hey! Watch where you are going!" She yelled to the man. She shook her head and looked back up the place where she had seen the woman. Of course, she was no longer there. "Shit." She mumbled going after where the woman was previously standing.

She reached out her arm to push people out of the way.

She pushed open the door leading to the outside of the restaurant she was in. She was running, running from or to someone, she had no idea. Maybe she was late. And then she saw her. Not much had changed for her accept for her outfit. Red blouse and a black blazer. Suited her quiet well. "Archie made a cake!"

'Who the hell is Archie?' She thought as her body moved down the last steps.

"You don't wanna stay for a piece?"

The woman smiled a bit and shook her head. "I'm fine thank you."

"Okay." She breathed turning to the right then turning to look back at her and then over her left to go back inside the restaurant.

"Thank you." The woman's voice started.

Her body turned around. "You just said that."

"For inviting me."

Her head nodded. "Henry wanted it." She felt a slight hesitation before she continued. "I'm glad you guys got to spend some time together."

"Me too." The woman's dark lips curved up into a wide smile, so genuine, she thought almost loving.

The woman's lips began to move again, but she didn't her the woman's voice. Instead she heard to voice of a man. "Emma!" she forced her heavy lids to spring open to see her neighbor looking down on her. "Emma are you alright?"

She forced her legs to stand up. "I-I'm fine." She looked around seeing people pushing to force their way around her. "What happened."

"You fell. Well actually, I think you passed out. You were out for a minute maybe two."

"Shit, I am going to be even more late!" She stammered before walking quickly while fishing for her car keys in her pocket. Her boot hit the uneven concrete side walk causing her to stumble forward.

He grabbed her arm pulling her back upright. "You can't go to work, you can barely stand." He smiled and grabbed her hand. "Come'on. Let's get you home."

She moved her shoulder upward removing her hand from his hold. "No. I am fine, I need to go to work."

"You can barely stand up straight on your own. There is no possible way you can work." Emma grunted placing her hand on her forehead, checking for a fever. "You can miss one day of work. Emma, you need to go home and rest."

Emma walked back toward her apartment building. "Fine then." She walked back into the building, the man following behind her. "Don't you have somewhere to be?"

"Well..."

"Why are you following me?"

"I am sorry. I'll leave you alone."


She laid on the couch with TV remote in hand. There was no good shows on in the afternoon. Each channel change led her to have less hope.

She decided she was hungry and stop flipping the channels. As she got up out of her comfortable spot on the couch she put the remote into the large pocket on the front of her Boston Red Sox hoodie that she had changed into. She went out into the kitchen and took out a bowl of old pasta that had been in the refrigerator for a few days now. She lifted the lid slowly, 'looks okay to eat.' The microwave door was flung open and the bowl of pasta was dropped inside.

She placed her elbows on the counter and watched the television lazily from her spot in the kitchen. "Seriously, a court show." She reached into her pocket to change the channel, but was interrupted by the beeping of the microwave.

The bowl of pasta was very hot. She held it very carefully on the edge of the bowl to not burn her hands.

"Mrs. Swan,"

Emma's eyes flicked immediately to the television where she saw she that same woman, the woman from all her other visions sitting at what looked like a judges chair. She felt her hands go numb and she accidentally dropped the bowl on the ground.

"This meeting is to discuss issues facing Storybrooke."

Emma quickly reaching into her pocket and took out the remote quickly changing the channel. Food network? Whatever. She looked down to the ground where off white shards of what once was a bowl covered her kitchen floor along with the bright red stain of pasta sauce. Great. Just great. She ran her fingers though her hair and sighed.

She retrieved a broom and dust pan from the closet and began sweeping up the shards.

"My famous turnovers."

Emma's eyes snapped right to the television. "Not again."

She watched as the woman leaned down on the table. Emma fished in her pocket for the remote, but it wasn't there. "Old recipe," There was a loud snapping sound, "but delicious." Emma searched the red sauce covered floor until she reached up to the counters where she found the remote. She brought it down and stared back at the television. She hesitated for a moment to turn off the television.

That woman, the way she smiled, or pretended to smile. No. No, no this is not right. She turned off the television and sat down on the kitchen floor. "What the hell is wrong with me." After spending the next hour scrubbing the tilled floor with no luck of getting out the red stain, Emma gave up and looked for something else to eat in the refrigerator.

Egg carton, empty from this morning's pancakes. No left overs. There was two pieces of breed left, the end pieces. Yuck. She took the bag of bread and disposed of it. A Greek yogurt from when she went on that healthy phase. Greek yogurt was defiantly not what she wanted; way too sour. She felt her stomach rumble when she went into the pantry to grab a box of Lucky Charms, aka Henry's weekend breakfast. She reached into the bag and picked out a few of the brightly colored marshmallows that were on top and went back into the refrigerator to get some milk. Of course only a mouth full remained and the only other milk was strawberry, bout per Henry's request. "Why is there no food in this house!"

She pouted slumping down in the kitchen chair where she would sit to eat most of her meals. "Maybe I should call a doctor or something..." she said quietly as she picked out a few more marshmallows out of Henry's Lucky Charms. "These probably aren't helping me either way."

Crinkling the plastic bag, she rolled the bag up to keep the cereal from getting stale. She grabbed her coat out of the closet and slid her arms in the sleeves. "Maybe going out to get some food will help me clear my mind a little."


During the past year, she found herself sitting at the counter at Corner Coffee more than she had wished. She had reminded herself many times that such kinds of food would give her a heart attack and she was setting a bad example for Henry, but let's face it; Emma Swan had become lazy.

She pulled out her iphone and checked to see if she had gotten any new text messages, she hadn't, and a waitress came by and placed a mug of hot chocolate with a canister of cinnamon next to it. Emma looked up in surprise. "How did you..."

"You have been here often enough honey. Breakfast you prefer coffee with a Bear Claw. During the day you usually get Coco and ask for cinnamon along with a sandwich. Now which sandwich you would like, I need to know."

"Turkey Club. Hold the mayo please."

"Your order will be ready shortly."

Such a sweet lady, she almost reminded her of some one... but no face. She couldn't remember anyone like that. She shook the canister of cinnamon over top of the whipped cream.

She unwrapped the spoon from the napkin and stuck it inside the mug of hot chocolate. She stirred it slowly mixing the whip cream, cinnamon, and hot chocolate together evenly. She grabbed the cup slowly holding both hands on the mug to keep them warm. She slowly raise the mug to her lips and sipped a little bit of the liquid off of the top.

She drank it slowly so she wouldn't finish it too soon, occasionally taking her spoon and mixing the light whip cream which tended to float toward the top. Finally her sandwich arrived and she ate it slowly, listening to the song playing on the radio over head. She hummed along with the melody and looked around at the people at the restaurant.

In the corner booth was an elderly couple. Next to them was a man with a young looking boy who she assumed was his son. Behind then she saw... No! No! No more hallucinations.

She looked away quickly focusing back on her club sandwich. She looked back again to the booth. Still there. She hadn't moved. Nothing in the environment had changed. everything was the same. Could it really be her? Was it possible that the woman who she had been seeing these last few days? That the woman who had kissed her on her door step, what she would give to go back and ask her a few questions instead of slamming the door in her face, really be here in flesh and blood?

The waitress came over and took away her plate and mug. "Is there anything else you would like today ma'am?" she said with a smile holding her pencil and pad at the ready.

"Actually, yes there is."

There was a long pause. "And what might that be?"

"Do you see that woman over there?" Emma said pointing toward the booth where she saw the woman from her daydreams, or what ever they were, was sitting.

She still looked as distant as ever, her dark eyes focused on what looked like to be a rectangle of paper. She was quiet stunning as she sat, unblinking. Her dark brown eyes seemed to be almost teary. She wore the same black trench coat she did during their kiss. Her lips were not stained the same dark red she had grown accustomed to when she saw her, they were more of a neutral pink.

"Ma'am?" The waitress asked calling Emma from her daze.

"I am sorry?"

"I asked you what you meant?"

"Do you see her?"

The waitress shot her a confused look. "What kind of question is that?"

"Do see a woman, dark hair, kind of short, black trench coat, you know, sitting in that booth?"

"Well yes of course, is everything alright, honey?"

"Yes, everything is fine." the waitress stared at her oddly. "Can you bring the bill?"

"Uhhh, sure." the waitress said ripping the sheet out of her notepad. "I will be back in a few minutes."

She stared back to the booth where the woman was sitting. She seemed to have not moved, not even blinked. She picked up the spoon from her napkin and dipped it into the the cup that sat at her side. After string, she stuck the spoon in her mouth and then returning it back to its place on the napkin. She picked up the cup with one hand so elegantly.

"Ma'am?" the waitress handed her the bill.

"Sorry? Oh, yes thank you." she nodded taking the bill from her hand. She paid with cash, exact change down to the last penny and left a tip under her glass. Getting up from her chair and slid on her jacket. She walked up to the booth.

"Excuse me?"

She looked up and gasped when she realized who was sitting in front of her. "Emma..." she breathed.

"I have some questions for you." She sat down into the booth on the opposite side of the woman. "Who the hell are you?"