Disclaimer: I own nothing associated with OUaT, its affiliates, or the Thrilling Adventure Hour.

There was a part of her that had long held the suspicion that breakfast with Regina would be a traumatic event (requiring hours upon hours of therapy with the local therapist, a bespectacled man by the unfortunate name of Dr. Archibald Hopper), but the hour in which she had spent in the company of the Evil Queen over scrambled eggs, toast, and coffee had been nothing short of pleasant.

With the minor exception of some werewolf-Evil Queen bickering and thinly-veiled insults, the morning had been a shining example of one of the few times Emma Swan had managed to enjoy the morning (before 11:59 a.m.) with her clothes on (all of them, and not her boxers and sports bra). Her companion was polite, refined, and had already offered to foot the bill for the breakfast dishes and the cherry pie Emma had very nearly decimated when Ruby dropped the slip of paper between them.

The last of which was a particular draw.

The only thing that could have made the morning better would have been the sudden disappearance of the other occupants in the diner, the irritating superheroes who wanted nothing more than to battle each other in the middle of the park over the slightest treasonous offenses. In fact, the only thing that would top that scenario would be the emergence of a black hole in the middle of the diner which took all but the Evil Queen, Emma Swan, and Henry Mills, and, perhaps, Ruby (they would need a cook, after all, and a babysitter in life post-black hole).

Why couldn't they have stayed at Town Hall and argued there? It was roomy, had decent acoustics, and most importantly, it was not the diner where Emma had willingly followed the Evil Queen for breakfast.

"Is there any way you can make them go away?" Emma asked impolitely, not bothering to lower her voice from an octave that only dogs, and annoying, hell-bent-on-revenge superheroes would hear. It would figure that her love life (future) would be thwarted by the presence of her son and half a dozen screaming individuals with the combined powers to knock the world around for a couple of hours without strain.

Regina cocked her head to the side and frowned over her companion's left shoulder. Her mother was certainly making the most awful racket as she followed Rumplestiltskin around, bobbing to and fro as the imp limped after Granny to demand the "freedom of his beloved." Beloved, her precious laser beam, Regina thought. The pretty little maid had been nothing more to him than a convenient plaything until his mansion had gone into disrepair, incurring the wrath of the homeowner's association (which may or may not have been influenced by her own petitions for cleaner, well-manicured lawns and home inspections). "Unfortunately, whatever that way might be, it exists outside of my powers. Perhaps if you- no, of course not, dear- there is no way to relieve ourselves of their continued presence, unless-"

"Unless?" High-pitched giggle alert; there really should be one of those posted in town, perhaps with a siren attached to alert the citizens of Storybrooke of that high-pitched giggle of Rumple's that signaled impending doom, destruction, and incorrectly diagnosed tinnitus.

"I'm fairly sure my plan violates at least three of your precious Team Beta rules, dear."

She shouldn't ask; really, she should have tucked her head to her chest and silently drank her coffee in peace, but, then again, Emma Swan had never been one to turn down a couple extra hours of sleep in the morning and a world free from the childish bicker occurring behind her thanks to Rumple, Cora, Granny, and Mary Margaret. And, was that a fireball blooming in the Queen of Hearts' palm? "Which three rules?"

Regina smirked in that way that never failed to inform Emma of impending doom...and bruises. The last time the blonde had seen that particular eyebrow quirk was the day she was thrown through the air, only to land coccyx-first on the asphalt of Mifflin Street after a nasty argument gone wrong over Henry's latest whereabouts and the fact that Emma had temporarily lost the boy (in her defense, he was small and very fast). "Thirteen, seventeen, and thirty-four."

The time was probably nigh to inform the brunette that Emma had never quite managed to finish reading the rule book before she signed on the dotted line. Mostly, it had been her salary (minimal), duties (too many), and vacation time (yeah, like that was going to happen anytime soon), not what she was prohibited from doing. "Right. Rules Thirteen, Seventeen, and Thirty-four, of course."

"I should have known you would be the type to ignore the rule book in favor of doing whatever struck your fancy."

The words were probably intended to be a slight, Emma concluded, but who was she to deny the truth? "Hey! I paid attention to the important ones. No killing unless it's in self-defense, no stealing unless it's absolutely necessary to apprehend a suspect, no using the company credit card to purchase gourmet coffee or rocket launchers-"

Regina's eyed widened with curiosity. "Are you telling met that you don't have a rocket launcher? I would have thought Granny would recognize the benefit of long-range weaponry, especially in light of your most recent loss."

Sneezy, the not-so-bright dwarf, had tried to fire a stolen crossbow (from Mary Margaret's secret cubbyhole in the lounge room), sneezed (as always), and ended up shooting himself in the foot after improperly fitting the arrow (read: followed archery instructions from Tom and Jerry). Then, the doofus had hidden the injury, which led to an infection in the bloodstream, and then he was moved to Storybrooke's intensive care unit for further treatment by the town's only doctor, Whale.

"That was a training issue," the blonde mumbled in response. Or lack of training, whatever. It wasn't like she hadn't argued for better equipment, but what she wanted was expensive and obviously required more training than picking up the darn thing and shooting (which took more money).

"I never said that the loss was not warranted, dear," Regina offered with a slight shrug of her designer-clad shoulders. One dwarf down, six more to go. If only the rest of Team Beta would take themselves out of the fight so easily, she might actually get to enjoy a full night's rest. Perhaps in their quest to "find each other," Snow and her Prince might accidentally knock themselves out during a cliched run towards each other in a field of wildflowers and roses."Honestly, I don't know how you've managed to prove yourself a challenge with the lack of proper equipment."

"It's the-" Yeah, she was going to do it; quote the party line she found to be a needlessly boring and tedious reminder. Appropriate or not, it was catchy.

"The Powers of Good, Rumple!"

"By midnight, else I burn down the town!"

Emma shrugged and pointed a lone finger in the direction of where Mary Margaret had issued her rallying cry of general annoyance. "What she said. Anyway, what's your plan for making all of that-" she waved her hands to indicate the rising noise level in the diner, "disappear?" Idly, she wondered if Cora even knew that Marco's eyes had not left the seat of her borrowed pantsuit in her pursuit of the Dark One.

"It's quite simple- we declare Rumplestiltskin's request a private issue to be settled by local law enforcement. I'm sure the Sheriff will have no problems deciding which offenses should be investigated, and which little imps should be sent on their way home to despair over their losses."

Reasonable plan, except for one minor detail- the rest of Team Beta would never go for it. Unlike Emma, they enjoyed taking sides and battling for the side of Good. Again, unlike Emma, they, with the exception of Ruby, enjoyed the midnight drills when the rest of the town was sleeping. And, definitely unlike Emma, they had been born into their inherent Goodness, so it was a matter of pride to defeat the powers of Evil from the smallest wayward Lost Boy to the Dark One himself. "You're willing to let your mother hang out there in the wind while you take the backseat and watch?"

Of course, this was the woman who had willingly handed over a cup of coffee that might have been doused with arsenic to the older woman, so, where did those loyalties lie?

"I'm willing to sell front row seats from my balcony to whatever trouble she gets into with Rumplestiltskin if it means I can sleep for more than twenty minutes without being awakened for another one of her hare-brained schemes and ploys," the brunette responded dryly, but not without a glimmer of hope in her dark eyes. "I'm tired, Miss Swan; I'm tired, physically and emotionally of my son referring to me as 'evil' whenever I do anything. I made him pancakes for breakfast yesterday and he asked if I was trying to make up for something evil I had done."

"So, you're just done? Done with the Evil thing?"

Regina shook her head, dark hair falling over her shoulders. "No, I never said that. I said that I would not be participating in my mother's hare-brained schemes or ploys anymore, not that I would choose to remain on the sidelines should an actual threat become apparent."

Emma shrugged. "That's too bad, 'cause I was going to ask if you wanted to go to dinner tomorrow night if you were. You and me on the dance floor while some Latin beat plays heavy in the background, a bottle of wine, a late night babysitter for Henry. What do you say, Regina?"

"Well, then, Miss Swan, perhaps we could come to some sort of-"

"Give me back my Belle!"

"What is that?!"

"Prepare yourselves!"

"Incoming!"

"Oh, come on!" Emma exclaimed over the rest of the hollers as she, too, turned to face the dark cloud that had passed over the diner. She had been so close to getting even closer to those tight leather pants the Evil Queen was known for. "Whoever is doing that, stop it now! I'm enjoying breakfast over here!"

"It's the Shadow, Emma," Mary Margaret squeaked from her place by the glass doors leading into the diner, eyes firmly locked on the rolling grey cloud that blanketed the town. "The Shadow!"

The blonde rolled her eyes, only mildly concerned by the presence of the "Shadow." Whatever it was, it could wait until after she was done asking out the Evil Queen on a date for Friday. Was that too much to ask? No, Emma certainly didn't think so. "So, Friday night-"

"It's a Pan, Miss Swan, which means that none of the children in this town are safe, including Henry," Regina interrupted, already reaching for her purse, which was perched against the wall. "The Shadow seeks to steal all of the children from the world and siphon their life's energy to perpetuate his own youthful existence. We need to get to Henry."

She could whine and throw a temper tantrum, but, in the end, it would be as useless as Prince Charming with a revolver. So, she followed Regina blindly as the dark-haired woman headed out of the diner to inspect the now-cackling shadow figure in the middle of Main Street, hearing only a low command from the other woman for Henry to remain inside as Regina crossed through the doorway.

"I've come for the children, so if you would please," the Pan said with a giggle as it bobbed from foot to foot, glee written across its pointed features. "Stand aside, all you fun-stealers."

With a quick glance to Regina's profile, Emma noted that she did not appear pleased to seek the elf-like creature perched atop her vehicle. To be fair, she was pretty sure the insurance company did not cover "Destructive Acts of Pan" on any of their plans, no matter how much Regina shelled out per month.

"You've come for the children, dear? Whatever would you need with the children of Storybrooke, Pan?" Despite her obvious ire at having her car violated by the redheaded boy in green tights, the Evil Queen sounded more pleasant than her harsh scowl revealed.

"Take him out," the blonde whispered. "Threat to Henry, right there! Now is the time to let loose with the fireballs."

"Let him answer the question, dear. Now, Pan, as I was saying, whatever would you need with the children of Storybrooke?"

"Well, lady, I want to-"

"One more word and I shoot him," Emma interrupted with a glare to the diminutive Pan. Provided he didn't fly, she could make the shot or at least scare him a bit like a scared, itty bitty chipmunk until he ran back up whatever godforsaken tree had spat him out to wreak havoc on an unsuspecting public.

Regina turned, grabbed the blonde's hand and tugged her out of sight from the creepy boy-child hovering over her car. "Small conference," she called out to the Pan. Once they had moved a suitable distance away (three feet), she whirled on the younger woman. "Let the poor boy speak, Emma," she ordered. "Clearly he just needs an ear to bend before he-"

"Eats all of the children in Storybrooke," Emma offered. "Which, incidentally, includes our son. So, unless you want Henry to be an appetizer before Creepy out there goes for broke and fries himself a Hansel and Gretel sandwich, I suggest you get to the roasting."

"We need his shadow, Emma, before we can destroy him. Without it, he'll regenerate himself, and the rest of you do-gooders will have one heck of a time trying to banish him from the town. So, if you don't mind, I'd like to keep him talking in the hopes that he will reveal where he hid it; that is, if you can keep from pulling your trigger prematurely."

Disregarding the trigger remark with little more than a shrug of her left shoulder, Emma attacked the only portion of that statement not directed at insulting her. "Do-gooders? What about you, your mother, and Rumple?"

Regina rolled her eyes, fists firmly planted against her sides. "They have their own problems to deal with, and my weekend is already booked."

"Booked?" Who booked the Evil Queen without first informing the Savior? That should be in Team Beta's precious rule book: Article III, section B) thou shalt not invite an intoxicatingly attractive Evil doer without consulting blonde Team Beta members with crushes on said Evil doers first.

"I'm having lunch with Kathryn on Saturday. We dine at Rodrigo's every third Saturday of the month, dear, not that you need to know the finer details of my appointments."

Harrumph. Kathryn. So she could play dead; possums around the world did it all the time but you didn't see anyone awarding them with a superhero status or inviting them to do lunch at Rodrigo's. See if Regina's precious Kathryn could tell when someone was lying or put forth random bursts of energy to take out an enemy (or a bedroom wall).

That was probably not the point, though; not when Creepy had taken a particular interest into the happenings mere feet away from his resting place. "What do we do, then, if you're so unwilling to make him do his best impression of a fire dance?"

"Pay attention, dear. We're going to have a civilized discussion with the Pan, and then, once we discover the hiding place of his shadow, we will destroy it and banish that creepy boy-man out of town to live out the rest of his existence in some small town where children are a rarity."

"Um, I don't think I like that plan," the Pan interjected, hovering slightly out of reach from the Queen and her companion. He tilted his head to the side in contemplation before he giggled. "Now, about the children-"

"Manners, Pan," the brunette reminded the redheaded child-creature. "We haven't finished discussing our terms with you yet. You see, we can't simply hand over the children to you so you might devour their youth. There are rules here that we must follow."

Emma squirmed under the wide-eyes of the Pan; those curiously red eyes that followed her like that one painting of the Twelve Disciples her fifth foster mother had had hanging in the bathroom. "Stop talking to it like it's a civilized thing and kill it."

The red eyes bulged from their sockets even more as the Pan reared back to fully face the blonde woman. "I don't like that plan," he said plaintively in that same higher-pitched giggle. "But," his voice dropped considerably, "I do like the plan where I eat you, all tough and yucky as you are."

"Emma?" Regina inquired, hand searching blindly at her side for the blonde's.

"Uh-huh?"

"Run!"

A/N: Pan is modeled after The Thrilling Adventure Hour, segment- Beyond Belief, episode 15- "Second Star to the Wrong", voiced by Tom Lenk. If you haven't heard it, go check out the free podcast.