The Ugly Duckling

by Joshua The Evil Guy

Season 1 AU What if an eight-year-old Emma Swan found her way to the Enchanted Forest and met an eight-year-old Regina Mills? What if they both had adventures together throughout their shared childhood, until Fate, Destiny, or whatever put them back on track, until they meet again in Storybrooke? How would things change? Swan Queen, Time Travel, Realm Travel, Emma magic/Mary Sue.

2. I

I.

Emma Swan entered her apartment, her arms full, still wearing the stained dress from her bust earlier in the evening. She closed and locked the door behind her—it was downtown Boston after all—and made her way over to the island counter to put down her packages. Wasting no time, she opened up the first bag and pulled out a boxed cupcake. Ripping open the second bag, she got out the candles and matches, putting a blue star candle into the middle of the gourmet cupcake and then carefully lighting it with a struck match.

Once that was taken care of, she crossed her arms on the counter and lowered her head down upon them, staring into the candle light. Staring for a moment, her mind thought back to what that bastard had said to her, what did she know of family? Her reply had been, 'Nothing,' but that wasn't entirely true.

"Another banner year," she whispered to her little 'birthday cake'. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and blew out the candle, while screaming in her mind, 'I wish I didn't have to be alone on my birthday ever again!' The candle flame winked out.

A knock at the door came, Emma's eyes snapped open in surprise.

She went to open it, not bothering with looking out the peephole, and then stopped when nobody was there. Correction, she thought as she looked down, nobody of adult height was there. A boy, probably ten years old at the most, with brown hair, freckles and green-brown eyes wearing a black overcoat and a red and blue scarf was standing there, looking up at her expectantly.

"Uh... can I help you?" she asked, at a loss.

"Are you Emma Swan?" he asked in turn rather than answer.

"Yeah," she cautiously answered, scenarios of everything from her neighbor's kid, to a preadolescent serial killer, to the weirdest court process server imaginable. "Who are you?"

"My name's Henry," he said with a wide smile. "I'm your son." He then slipped past her as she's too busy being stunned at his declaration to stop him, and walks confidently into her apartment like he's lived there his whole life already. All ten years of it.

She spun around and followed him into the apartment, saying, "Whoa, hey, kid! Kid! I don't have a son! Where are your parents?"

"Ten years ago, did you give a baby up for adoption?" he said more than asked, walking around to the other side of her kitchen. "That was me."

She stops and stares. A multitude of emotions barrage her psyche all at once and the situation suddenly becomes too much to deal with after the day she's had. Staring at the brown haired little boy with new eyes, panic becomes the predominant of all the emotions she's being overwhelmed by, so she goes with that for the moment. Only, panic doesn't really help in any situation, and she really shouldn't melt down in front of the kid in the first place. So, time for a tactical retreat.

"Give me a minute," she tells him and practically runs for the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind her, giving the illusion of privacy for the time being.

This was too much. She'd been a stupid kid, teaming up with some asshat named Neal, and she couldn't even be sure that was his real name either. They'd gone on one big score together, after being together for not quite a whole year, and then after it was over and done with and they were trying to fence the stupid merchandise, she'd got caught holding the bag, literally! A month later, she found out she was pregnant after being sick all the time and was moved to the part of the prison reserved for pregnant mothers or women with infants to care for.

Everything that she'd gone through as a child in the system had plagued her constantly while in prison. Every day she had to convince herself that she was doing the right thing in giving the baby up for adoption. Every day as her due date came closer, it became that much harder to do. In the end, she couldn't even let herself hold him, knowing that if she so much as touched him, looked at his red crying face, that she would never be able to let him go. But she could not be a mother.

She could not be a mother.

She cannot be a mother.

"Hey, do you have any juice?" Henry's voice called out from the kitchen, startling Emma from her panic attack. "Never mind, found some!"

Taking a breath, Emma took control of her nerves and finally exited the bathroom.

"You know, we should probably get going," Henry said, after drinking right out of the juice carton, when he noticed her leaving the bathroom.

"Going where?" she asked, suspicious.

"I want you to come home with me," he answered honestly, putting away the juice.

"OK kid," she'd had enough. "I'm calling the cops." She crossed the room over to where the phone was.

"And I'll tell them you kidnapped me," he said without missing a beat even as she picked up the receiver.

The scenario flashed through her mind in an eye blink. She sighed and finished the remainder of the kid's threat, "And they'll believe you because I'm your birth mother." She hit the off button and put the phone back down.

"Yep," he grinned at her, hands folded in front of him.

Shooting him a look, she analyzed his face, body posture, expression, all in an instant where the information was processed and a decision made as fast as the thoughts could form. "You're not gonna do that," she told him.

"Try me," he said. The rest of him said plenty more, enough to confirm her gut instinct.

"You're pretty good," she said, referring to his poker face, "but here's the thing. There's not a lot I'm great at in life, but I have one skill I am really good at. Let's call it a superpower. I can tell when anyone is lying. And you, kid, are." She made to pick the phone back up.

"Wait," he begged, losing all his 'poker face' composure in an instant. "Please don't call the cops. Please come home with me."

"Where's home?" she demanded.

"Storybrooke, Maine," he said honestly.

"Storybrooke? Seriously?" she said, incredulous. She'd never heard of a more ridiculously named town in her entire life. Why not 'New Mayberry' while they were at it?

"Mmhmm," he nodded.

"Alrighty then," she sighed. "Let's get you back to Storybrooke."

It took her about thirty minutes to get changed and pack up her bags. She wasn't moving away or anything, but this kid had tracked her down across state lines, and if nothing else, her experiences had taught her to be prepared for when the unwanted changes in plans struck. She didn't want to have any part of this kid's life, she didn't even want him there in the first place! And yet...

And yet here she was, getting ready to drive him back to his home, when she should be calling the cops and having the parents come to her in order to pick him up. That wasn't going to happen now, obviously, but she still had to be prepared for staying in this... Storybrooke place longer than a few hours. It wasn't the plan, but there you go.

So, car packed up, apartment locked up and the landlord being told that she was going on a 'long-term assignment', which happened every now and again so they had a system in place for her being away for several days or even weeks and once even a couple of months, and they were on their way up to Maine. As they were passing over the bridge, she glanced over at the kid, who had his head stuck in a large brown leather book. It looked... familiar. She just couldn't put her finger on it. Like an out of tune chord being struck amidst a string orchestra. Stands out, but really hard to track down.

A few hours later, the comfortable silence (for Emma) was finally broken by the kid asking, "I'm hungry. Can we stop somewhere?"

"This is not a road trip. We are not stopping for snacks," she said.

"Why not?"

"Quit complaining, kid," she warned. "Remember, I could've put your butt on a bus. Still could."

"You know, I have a name? It's Henry," he said, annoyed at her calling him 'kid' all the time.

When he turned back to his book rather than continue the argument, she glanced at him and it again. Something about it... was so familiar, but she just could not put her finger on it.

"What's that?" she asked.

"I'm not sure you're ready," he said.

"Ready for some fairy tales?" she said incredulously.

"They're not fairy tales," he insisted. "They're true. Every story in this book actually happened."

"Of course they did," Emma said sarcastically.

"Use your superpower, see if I'm lying." Henry put down the book and looked her in the eye.

She glanced over, checked the road and then looked back for a longer look. Damn, not lying.

"Just because you believe something doesn't make it true," she rationalized.

"That's exactly what makes it true. You should know more than anyone," he said.

"Why's that?" she asked, attention back on the road.

"Because you're in this book."

Oh, crap. Her son was going to end up being one of those crazy kids, the 'weirdo' none of the other kids talked to, the schizophrenic teen that was in and out of the psych ward all through high school, and then the crazy homeless guy raving in the street and being ignored by everyone and everything. How the hell had this happened? He was supposed to have been better off without her in his life to screw him up!

"Oh, kid," she said, more scared than remorseful, "You've got problems."

"Yup," he agreed with a smile on his face, before continuing, "And you're going fix them."

She shot him a look of sheer disbelief. The look of absolute faith on his expression actually drew out a laugh from her suddenly raw throat. The rest of the trip was made in tense silence, broken only by Emma asking for and Henry providing directions once they were off the interstate. Apparently there was no direct exit for this Storybrooke, and seeing as how it was on the coast, the only way to get to it were the back roads and mountain highways. An hour after they'd left the interstate, they entered a forest, the road winding here and there before going straight for several stretches before winding once more. By the time they passed the "Welcome to Storybrooke" sign, it was way past time when most people were at home in bed. Of course the rain wasn't much help, but at least by the time she saw buildings instead of trees it had stopped.

"OK kid," she said, seeing that they'd finally arrived at their destination, "How about an address?"

"Forty-four not-telling-you street," he answered smugly.

She slammed on the brakes, the tires of her yellow bug actually squealing in the night. Fortunately there were, literally, no other cars in sight, so no danger of causing a traffic accident. She put the car in park and even went so far as to turn off the engine as she slammed open the door and got out, turning to glare at her 'offspring' as he did the same, minus the slamming that is. She could understand, in this moment, how some animals eat their young.

"Look, it's been a long night and it is almost—" she glanced up at the clock tower they'd stopped across from and read the face with a note of confusion, "—eight fifteen?"

Looking up at it, Henry explained, "That clock hasn't moved my whole life. Time's frozen here."

"Excuse me?" she said, unable to conjure enough energy for the double-take she wanted to do.

"The Evil Queen did it with her curse. She sent everyone from the Enchanted Forest here," he said.

"Hang on," she held up her hand and did her best not to pinch her nose or anything. "The Evil Queen sent a bunch of fairytale characters here," she repeated with sarcasm mounting with every word.

"Yeah," Henry confirmed. "And now they're trapped."

"Frozen in time, stuck in Storybrooke, Maine. That's what you're going with?" she asked, unable to believe the story he was trying to feed her. She'd heard some doozies, hell she'd even sold some in her time, but... wow.

"It's true!" he insisted.

"Then why doesn't everybody just leave?" she pointed out the flaw in his logic.

"They can't. If they try, bad things happen."

A man walking a dalmatian came down the street. The moment he caught sight of the arguing pair, he rushed over with his dog and cried out, "Henry! What are you doing here? Is everything all right?"

"I'm fine, Archie," Henry replies while petting the dalmatian, whose tag identifies it as Pongo.

"Who's this?" the man, Archie asks, indicating Emma.

"Just someone trying to give him a ride home," she answers, only giving a part of the truth, hoping to keep certain facts quiet and just between them. Of course, then the kid had to go and ruin it.

"She's my mom, Archie," Henry tells him.

"Oh... I see," the curly-haired redhead with thick-rimmed glasses stood straight, realizing just how awkward things had become all of a sudden.

Emma grimaced and did her best to move on, as it were, and asked Archie, "You know where he lives?"

"Oh. Yeah, sure, just uh, right up on Mifflin Street; the Mayor's house is the biggest one on the block," Archie answered, pointing in the correct direction.

Emma shot the kid a baleful glare. "You're the mayor's kid?"

"Uh, maybe?" he shrugged, wincing at being caught in his lie.

"Hey," Archie said. "Where were you today, Henry? Because you missed our session."

"Oh, I forgot to tell you. I went on a field trip." Wow, so much for the kid's poker face skills. He must have been practicing for her on the bus ride over. Seems he couldn't do improv all that well.

Archie knelt down so that he and Henry were eye-to-eye. "Henry, what'd I tell you about lying? Giving in to one's dark side never accomplishes anything."

Wow, could this possibly get anymore 'after-school-special'?

"O-kay!" Emma clapped her gloved hands together. "Well, I really should be getting him home."

"Yeah. Sure," Archie nodded and got back to his feet, walking away with his dog. "Well, listen—have a good night, and uh, you be good, Henry."

"So that's your shrink?" Emma observed as they watched 'Archie' walk away.

"I'm not crazy," he said. Apparently it was a sore subject.

"Didn't say that," she said, getting into the car. "Just—he doesn't seem cursed to me. Maybe he's just trying to help you."

"He's the one who needs help. Because he doesn't know," he said.

"That he's a fairytale character," she said.

"None of them do. They don't remember who they are."

"Convenient," she remarked as they both got in and closed the doors. "All right, I'll play. Who's he supposed to be?"

With absolutely no hesitation, Henry answered, "Jiminy Cricket!"

"Right. The lying thing. Thought your nose grew a little bit," she teased.

"I'm not Pinnochio!" he immediately protested, seeing what she was thinking..

"Course you're not," she said sarcastically as they drove to Mifflin Lane. "Cause that would be ridiculous." And she'd met the real Pinnochio when he'd been Henry's age. They looked nothing alike.

A few moments later she spotted the house. Jiminy—Archie, whoever, was right. Hard to miss. They got out of the car and started up the walkway to the front door.

Henry marched ahead of Emma like she was escorting him to his execution. The mansion, because that is the only thing it could be, stood looming before them as they made their way past the property line where tall, well-maintained hedges framed the stone walkway. Turning, the kid tried one last time to beg her for an alternative, to which she resolutely turned him back around.

"Please don't take me back there!" he begged.

"I have to. I'm sure your parents are worried sick about you," she said.

"I don't have parents. I just have a mom, and she's—evil," he said.

"Evil? That's a bit extreme, isn't it?"

Immediately after this last failure to get them to run away and avoid the inevitable confrontation, the front door of the mansion was opened and a striking brunette in a power suit was out and running down the walkway before they'd even made it halfway. Right behind her was a tall, rugged man in a local LEO uniform and the Sheriff's badge pinned to his leather jacket, strolling along at a more sedate pace.

"Henry!" the woman cried out and went straight for the boy.

It wasn't until she got close enough for Emma to see her face and get a good look at her, though her voice had certainly given her pause, but once she saw who Henry's adopted mother was she stopped short, stunned. What had been bugging her since she'd first seen the kid with that... that damned book! It all came back to her, all at once! Memories half-forgotten, from before she ran away and had a chance encounter with a half-witted car thief by the name of Neal, suddenly surfaced and rose fresh in her mind as though it had all happened just yesterday!

"Henry, where have you been?" Regina Mills, mayor of Storybrooke, Maine, and once upon a time the Evil Queen of the Enchanted Forest, demanded of the only good thing in her life. She'd been pulling every resource at her disposal and more trying to find her son, spending a large portion of the past twenty-four hours in a hysterical panic. "I've been looking all over for you!"

"In Boston," he shouted at her, his temper getting the best of him as he ran past her toward the house, "finding my real mom!"

Regina recoiled in shock at the vitriol coming from her son, but the reaction was instantly squashed under a practiced mask of calm and control. She turned with a sneer to the blond woman in a red leather jacket still standing on her stone walkway. She briefly took in the woman's appearance and dismissed her as beneath her notice with practiced contempt, already turning plans over in her mind about the best and most efficient way to end the threat she posed and get this woman out of her town with absolutely no desire to ever return.

All of that, Henry's tantrum, Regina's plans, even the Sheriff's casual concern came to a silencing halt with a single word from the 28-year-old Emma Swan.

"Gin'?" she said, half shocked gasp, half pained whisper. (AN: Pronounced "Jean" basically)

At the familiar name that she had only ever allowed one and only one person to ever call her, Regina backed up a step and looked this interloper over from head to toe, taking everything in with a critical eye. Blond hair, blue-green eyes, sharp nose with soft features, and… Regina got no further than her face, focusing in on the woman's eyes, briefly imagining them with thick-rimmed glasses, and the girl in white leather, and a flowing feathered cloak, holding a sword…

"Oh!" Regina retreated a few steps, hands over her mouth in mid-gasp. The Sheriff stood back, holding the mayor only to make sure she didn't fall over. He was as confused about the women knowing each other as was a suddenly curious Henry, who was slowly stepping back down off the porch. "Emma? Emma Swan? But… how? That was… that was… How?!"

"I don't know, I…" Emma trailed off suddenly as her eyes lit up with sudden realization. "Hey! How does Henry have my book?!"

"Your book?" Regina repeated. Then her eyes lit up with the same realization. "You mean, your book? Henry!" She turned and confronted her son.

"What?" the ten-year-old replied petulantly, much like any 10-year-old might.

"Do you have something of… of Ms. Swan's?" she said, a brief stutter as she tried to recall her old friend's surname to keep from calling her something far more personal.

"No, I…" he tried to protest, but Emma stepped up, whether to his rescue or not he couldn't be sure anymore.

"Kid!" the blond snapped. "Henry! Book, now! It's important!"

Seeing the urgency in her eyes, and the stern look in his adopted mother's expression, he sighed and ran all the way back to Emma's yellow punch buggy and retrieved the large leather tome from under the seat where he'd hid it. Quickly accepting it from his offering hands, Emma manhandled the book and took a fresh look at the cover. Same title, same everything really. Seeing the tall, rugged man standing nearby, she shoved the book into his arms while saying, "Hi, sorry, but can you hold this please? Thanks."

"Uh… sure?" the Sheriff said uncertainly as both women quickly began to leaf through the pages while he held both ends of the cover up so they could do so at leisure.

Halfway through the tome, Emma began to shake her head, while Regina's eyes slowly grew wider and wider in both awe and trepidation.

"It's not the same," she finally announced after leafing through several specific chapters.

"What?" Regina asked.

Shaking her head with more and more certainty, Emma repeated, "It's not the same. It's not the same book. I remember now, I checked the pages every time I… every time I came back. They were different every time, sometimes showing our adventures, sometimes even changing earlier or later stories that had been in it before. This doesn't show any of that, and it is also missing the chapter about Pinnochio going through the wardrobe first!"

"So, this isn't the same book then?" Regina confirmed.

Shaking her head, Emma sighed and closed it before taking it from the Sheriff's hands. "No, but it is… special. It's just not my book."

"Well, that's a relief," Regina actually sighed and showed her genuine relief. "I remember the one time, and one time only thankfully, that somebody else got a hold of that. So where is yours?"

"It disappeared after… after the last time…" Emma trailed off, her eyes distant in memory.

Regina nodded, and then turned to the adult man standing there dumbfounded. "Thank you Sheriff, that will be all for this evening."

"Are you sure, Madam Mayor?" he asked, glancing back and forth between the two women.

"Quite sure," she confirmed. "Your services are not required at this time, nor at any point later this evening. You can go."

"Yes ma'am," he nodded and ambled on back to his cruiser, leaving the two women and the younger dumbfounded boy standing there with the still open book.

Once he was out of earshot, Emma smirked and whispered to Regina, "You're sleeping with him, aren't you?"

Taken aback, the former queen rounded on her old friend and snarled, "I fail to see how that is any of your business, Swan."

Grinning at the name she hadn't been called in over twelve years, Emma turned and started toward the house, saying over her shoulder, "If not my business, then whose, Gin? And yeah, you so are."

"It has not been your business for… well, for a lot longer than you can remember, Swan!" she replied, following after the blond.

Henry stared after his two moms, more confused by this confrontation than the revelation that fairy tale characters were the townsfolk of his hometown. Realizing that he was still standing out in his front yard while they walked inside, he hurriedly ran in after them, shouting the question that had been plaguing his mind since Emma first said his mom's name. "Wait, you guys know each other?!"

–Twenty Years Ago–

Emma had no idea what had just happened to her. One minute she'd been cowering under her bed with a flashlight and her new book, the next she was lying beneath the trees and the sunlight was streaming down through the branches and leaves. Getting to her feet, she looked down at herself and saw that she was still in her pajamas. She started to think that this was just a really vivid dream or something, except that she was barefoot and standing in the middle of a forest. Also, there was just something about everything that was far too… vivid to be any kind of dream.

There was a noise!

Scared, Emma crouched down and hid behind the largest tree nearby, putting the sound on the other side from her. As time passed, she realized that it was nothing threatening. At least not to her, not immediately anyway. A few seconds more and she finally recognized the sound. Horses! Galloping horses if she didn't mistake her guess. And that meant people!

Wincing with every other step, and taking care with where she put her feet, Emma began making her way in the direction of the sounds of horses. Getting closer, she began to see an end to the tree line, and also discovered that it was actually just one horse, being ridden by a girl her age!

Throwing caution to the wind, Emma ran out of the woods as quickly as she could, making for the other girl as fast as her little legs could carry her, not caring about any tears or scratches given to her by the forest for her hasty departure. She burst out into the open mere yards from the girl in the sky blue riding outfit, close enough to startle the horse at the least.

"Whoa, whoa there," the dark haired rider worked to calm the scared animal while holding on for dear life. Fortunately she and the horse were good friends and he was well trained so he only reared the once before allowing his rider to calm him.

"Hello?" Emma called, scared and tired. "Where am I? Can you help me? Please?"

"Whoa Rocinante," the black haired girl whispered as she trotted the horse over to her and then dismounted with an easy and practiced move. "Are you all right? Can I do anything to help?"

Now standing face to face, the two young girls got a better look at one another. One, black hair done up in a very tight braid dressed in an immaculately neat and tidy riding outfit, made of silk and satin. The other, messy blond hair filled with twigs and leaves, dressed in torn and faded Disney Princess shirt and pants pajamas. Brown eyes stared into blue/green eyes, both scared, and both filled with loneliness that they recognized in the other. They were friends instantly.

"I'm Emma," the blond girl introduced herself, holding out her hand. "Emma Swan."

"Hello," the black haired girl smiled brightly, accepting the hand with her own. "My name is Regina. Are you a fairy? Or perhaps a transformed animal?"

"What?" Emma exclaimed at the odd questions. "Why would you ask me something like that?"

"Oh, I meant no offense, it is just, well," the brunette blushed, and backed away fearfully. "Please forgive me, but I… I've never had someone introduce themselves to me as a swan before. I had just assumed… I meant no offense."

Grinning at the girl's rambling, Emma laughed off any perceived insult. "Don't be silly. I'm not an animal or anything, it's just a name. Why would you think I was a fairy though? Don't they have weird names like Tinkerbell, Bloom and Oberon? Who ever heard of a fairy named Emma?" She burst out into laughter, which caught Regina up in it as well.

Having laughed themselves out, the giggling girls turned back to the matter at hand.

"So," Regina began, "if you're not a fairy and not a transformed animal, what are you doing here, Emma? How did you come to be on our estate? Mother always knows when people come onto our property, and I think she would have mentioned you coming to visit."

"I have no idea," Emma answered honestly with a casual shrug.

They turned and started walking towards a house and stables in the distance, Regina leading her horse by the reins as Emma walked barefoot alongside. "One minute I'm in my bedroom, reading this awesome book filled with fairy tales, the next I'm looking up at a bunch of trees in a forest and I hear you galloping about. Where am I anyway? Coulda sworn that it was getting close to winter before, and I don't know of any… estates nearby. Wasn't even scratched up until after I made a beeline for you after seeing you through the trees."

"How odd," Regina agreed. "Perhaps you were taken by magic or something. Did you make a wish to your fairy godmother? Or did your parents make a deal with some wizard for something? I hear tales of that sort of thing happening all the time."

Emma shot her new friend a weird look. She was perhaps more mature than most, and there were all the younger kids that one came across in group homes, and it was often encouraged by some of the… nicer… adults to let them keep onto fantasies such as magic and fairies for as long as possible. As for herself, she'd stopped believing in all things supernatural before she was six years old. That happened to most that never got adopted and kept getting sent back into the system. However, she'd never met someone that was her age that still believed. Not wanting to make an enemy out of a new friend, she decided to humor the strange rich girl and just hoped that her parents were as nice and understanding as she was and could get her back to the home without too much fuss. She decided to go with the 'kidnapped' excuse, already concocting several stories that should hopefully let her skirt without too harsh of a punishment and no hard questions to answer.

"Yeah, maybe, I don't know," Emma went with the more noncommittal response to Regina's earlier question. "But seriously though, where am I?"

"Oh, my apologies once again," Regina stammered. "I keep forgetting myself. You are on my family's estate along eastern border of the West Kingdom of the Enchanted Forest. We're very close to the border with the North Kingdom, so it is possible that you hale from there."

Emma stopped walking and stared.

Noticing that her companion had stopped, Regina turned back and looked at her to see what the matter was. Emma's face was a mask of shock and outright disbelief as she repeated, "Kin-king-kingdoms?! I'm in Europe?! How the heck did I get to another continent?!"

Frowning with growing confusion, Regina asked, "Europe? No, this is the Enchanted Forest."

Emma blinked stupidly at that non-sequitur. She was starting to catch on that Regina wasn't just messing with her, and that something… not normal was going on. Weird was reserved for when the local gang started doing charity work. Same with 'strange', 'odd' and all other synonyms associated with those words. Hesitantly, fearing the question almost as much as the answer, she asked her new friend something that would change her life forevermore.

"Regina, I need to know, is this some kind of prank? Like some kind of psychological test or make-believe thing like they have on TV? Like that Derren Brown guy making this one guy believe the end of the world had come? Or those Candid Camera gags? I… I really need to know, Regina, because I'm seriously starting to freak out here, and you do not want to see me freaked out!"

Concerned now, Regina let go of the reins and reached out to grab the blond by the shoulders. Looking as serious as a child of eight years ever could about anything, she told Emma with absolute honesty, something that Emma's unique experiences at reading people confirmed for her, "This is not a trick or a prank Emma. I'm sorry that you're lost, but you are in the Enchanted Forest, not this… Europe place you mentioned, and not anywhere else I'm afraid. I do not know what those other things you talked about are, but please believe me when I say that I am not trying to trick you and I would never do anything to hurt you."

Gulping, Emma idly wondered if this is what a panic attack was. If so, she was actually kinda disappointed, as she managed to get her breathing under control and fought past the lightheadedness with sheer determination within only a few minutes.

"Let's go find your parents, please," she whispered to Regina, who noticed her eyes were kind of dull and lifeless all of a sudden. Very near a panic herself at something happening to her new friend, Regina decided speed was needed over caution in this instance.

Manhandling the suddenly compliant girl, she got Emma up into Rocinante's saddle before pulling herself up and rode them at a fast trot for the main house, foregoing the stables as she knew neither of her parents would be there waiting for her. Once she was in earshot, she screamed out, fear adding an edge to her scream, "Mother! Father! Help!"

"Regina!?" a loud male voice called and an older man with thinning gray hair dressed in old world clothes came charging out of the main house. An instant after that, there was an explosion of gray-black smoke, which swirled upwards and then vanished faster than nature could explain. The moment the smoke disappeared, a stern looking woman in a black silk dress was seen standing there, where she had not been standing before.

That proved to be just a bit too much for the young Emma Swan, as she softly mumbled from her place in the saddle, "That was magic. She used magic. Magic is real. *snort* Not in Kansas anymore, Toto." And then she fainted and fell off the side of the horse.

"EMMA!" Regina screamed, reaching for her friend, but almost fell herself.

Doing perhaps the most selfless thing she'd done for her daughter in living memory, after giving birth to her that is, Cora Mills reached out with one hand and magically caught the blond girl before she could hit the ground and injure herself, levitating her away from the grass and over to her panting husband's arms.

"Regina, explain this!" she demanded. "Who is this girl? How did she get here? And what have I told you about your riding habits?"

Dismounting without care for the state of her appearance, Regina hurried to where her father was holding Emma and answered her mother in as quickly, yet still in as proper a manner as she could. "I have little in way of explanation, Mother. Her name is Emma Swan. She has no knowledge of how she came to be on our estate. I witnessed her coming out of the forest and proceeded to offer aid. We conversed and when Emma became insensate, I felt that speed was required over discretion. I apologize for any undue concern on my behalf, but I was scared for my friend. She's lost and needs our help."

Frowning, Cora held her peace as any remarks she would normally make would be detrimental in the long run. She had plans for her darling daughter, plans that required her to not second-guess rescuing certain little girls that were in danger, or the appearance of danger. And at least she'd remembered her manners despite a tense situation. Nodding curtly to Henry, she turned and stalked back into the house, leaving the matter in his and his daughter's hands.

Breathing a sigh of relief as her mother left with no other words spoken, Regina looked up at her father with tear-filled eyes, and asked, "Will she be all right, Father?"

"I'm sure she will," he answered his darling little princess with a warm smile. He'd been checking the helpless bundle while Cora had been interrogating her, and found that her breathing and pulse were both normal, and he'd heard what the girl mumbled before fainting dead away, so he had at least some idea of what might have happened. "I think she's just overwhelmed at the moment. Let's take her inside. Ask the servants to get some water and food for her. I'll put her in the sitting room for now. After you take care of Rocinante, that is."

Nodding with a flush of embarrassment, Regina replied, "Yes, Father." She then hurried to lead her horse to the stables.

–Twenty Years Later–

Emma, Henry and Regina were all in the downstairs sitting room, the adults on the wingback chairs, the young boy on the loveseat, and the Book on the coffee table between them, opened on the last few pages, specifically the hand drawing of Snow White holding her newborn baby girl, a baby that was wrapped up in blankets that just so happened to be embroidered with the name 'Emma'. The adult woman just so happened to have said blanket tucked away in a bag in the trunk of her yellow bug, but she didn't feel like going out to get it.

"So," the blond 'Savior' broke the uncomfortable silence that had engulfed the three after the Sheriff's, Graham's departure. "Nice place you've got here."

Scoffing, Regina shook her head, saying, "Oh please, do not start."

"What? It is a nice place!" Emma said defensively, hands raised.

"It's too big," Henry commented.

"And you said the same thing to all those tyrants whose castles and mansions we used to sneak into all the time! I do not appreciate the comparison, especially not in front of my son!" Regina argued.

"Hey, our son!" Emma protested. Henry's smile lit up the whole room, if not the house.

"Miss Swan," Regina growled. "You asked for a closed adoption. You know what that means. That means you have no legal right to Henry!"

"I did that because I still had another four months, at minimum, in prison, and I know from quite personal experience that his best shot was to be placed within the first six months! If anybody knew the birth mother was a felon, they'd have sent him back! If I'd known that he'd end up with you, I would have kept him and come straight here myself!"

"You… wait, what?" Regina did a double-take.

"You heard me!" Emma shouted. "If I'd known that you were already here, and that you were going to adopt my son, the moment I got out of prison I would have packed us both on a bus and moved in!"

"Just like that, after all these years! After what happened?" Regina demanded.

"What happened?" Henry quietly asked.

"Grown-up stuff," Emma brushed him off.

"We were sixteen years old," Regina countered.

"So, he gets to wait till he's thirteen," Emma shot back.

"That's not fair!" Henry protested.

"Want to make it sixteen?" she challenged.

Backing down, he decided to change tracks. "How do you two know each other anyway?"

"Long story," they both said in unison.

"I've got time," he sat back on the loveseat.

"No, young man," Regina imposed, "What you've got is a bed time. And it is long since past."

"How can you tell, the clock doesn't move?" Emma 'whispered'.

"Don't start," Regina shot the blond a cold glare.

"You guys just want me out of your hair so you can yell at each other," Henry observed.

"Kid, if we wanted to yell at each other, we'd go out for a drink and leave you with a babysitter," Emma said, with a huff of annoyance. "Tell you what. Go to bed now, and over breakfast we'll give you the whole four-one-one, all right? Otherwise, I'm going to keep dropping hints, and teasing Gin', your mom here, giving you nothing but breadcrumbs until you actually pass out from exhaustion."

"Are you just saying that to get rid of me?" Henry challenged her.

Rolling her eyes, Emma glanced at her old friend and fellow mom, essentially passing the buck.

"I will call the school tomorrow to excuse you for the day," Regina gave her 'final offer'. "If I'd known… however, Swan is your mother and what she's said forces me to reevaluate our standing. The fact that you know about the curse, something that Doctor Hopper has been remiss of informing me about, well… Henry, you deserve the truth, and apparently you'll seek it out whether you are ready for it or not. But the fact remains that you are a ten year old boy and it is past your bedtime. So, if you are not ready for bed in the next five minutes, you can forget about having the day off tomorrow."

Emma had never seen a kid move that fast before.

"Yeah, you are definitely that kid's mom," Emma said with an easy smile. Regina returned the smile, but didn't say anything.

"So, did you ever meet the 'Green Fairy'?" the blond woman asked with a crooked grin and emphasized air quotes.

"All these years, and that is the first thing you ask me about?" Regina snapped at her, a slight flush rising in her cheeks.

"Hey, it's only been eleven, almost twelve years for me," Emma said, hands raised. "Counting the twenty-eight I've been alive, I've no clue how long it has been for you. So… did you?"

"Ungh!" Regina let out a growl and jumped to her feet.

"Hey, it is a legitimate question, and one of the things that I always wanted to know about you after we read your part of the story!" Emma got to her own feet. The brunette had gone straight to a nearby cabinet, pulled out a bottle of amber liquid from a locked chest, along with two decanters, filled them, put the bottle away, and handed one of them to her.

"Don't remind me," she growled, gulping half the amount of her glass while Emma stared at her, shocked. "And for your information, yes, I did meet the green fairy. Her name," she paused and seemed to relish the moment all of a sudden, "is Tinkerbell, by the way. She tried to change my story, give me a happy ending by hooking me up with someone new. A new true love."

"Isn't that what happened with us?" Emma said, quietly sipping her share of the alcohol.

"Who do you think she was trying to get me over?" Regina snarled.

"The stable boy, if I had my guess," the blond shrugged. "I was your secret life, remember? Nobody knew that you were Swan's partner, if they had you never would have been approached by Leopold. In fact, you probably would have been thrown in prison and executed. And did you say the green fairy's name is Tinkerbell?! As in the Tinkerbell?!"

Regina just laughed at her, going to sit across from her while nursing her cider.

"How the heck does that work?" Emma said, falling back in her chair.

"You know I pardoned you?" the brunette whispered, after finishing off her drink. "I think part of me hoped that it would get your attention, get you to come back for… for one more day."

"After… after the last time?" Emma confessed, "The book disappeared. I looked for it. For a long time. Longer than I probably should have. Finally, I just took off and tried to make a living, or take life by the horns. Managed to stay out of the gypsies hands, but only just. Met Henry's fath—paternal DNA provider, while trying to steal a car. From there, we did the whole Bonnie and Clyde thing, planning on 'retiring' in Tallahassee, Florida after a big score. The big score turned into a big bust, he left me essentially holding the bag. It's how I ended up in prison. Could have gotten away, could have escaped. Was going to actually. Then…"

"Henry," Regina guessed.

"Priorities changed," she continued. "Got the kid adopted as soon as possible, protecting him so that he wouldn't end up in the system like I did." She downed the rest of her drink in one gulp, letting it burn its way down to her stomach. "After I got out, I picked up where we left off, so to speak. You know, the deal we had with George and the others?"

"Bounty hunting?" Regina exclaimed, genuinely surprised. "You're a bail bondsman?"

"Bail bonds person," Emma cockily corrected.

"That is dangerous work, if I recall," Regina crossed her arms, glaring at her like she used to.

"You recall correctly," Emma shrugged. "But I'm good at it, if you'll recall. Heck, I was capturing fugitives of the crown, for several different crowns, when I was thirteen years old. Catching scumbags when I'm in my twenties is no big deal. And other than the existence of the internet and computers in this world, it really isn't all that different."

"That and a teleporting amulet to cut down on travel time," she scoffed.

"Yeah, well, that's what the interstate is for," she shrugged again. "You never told me where you got it from in the first place."

"Where, or rather who, do you think I got it from?" Regina sighed, hand automatically going to a necklace that was no longer there. "Of course, you remember when I lost it. It made having our adventures a little more difficult. I tried to call in the boon he owed me, to get it back or to get another one. But I never saw him again after… after the last time."

"Who are… oh," Emma blinked, staring. "Him. I guess you got it that first day then?"

Regina nodded, both of them recalling the day in question.

–Ealdor Village, 'White' Kingdom–

"This is not a good idea," Regina whined.

The two young girls were sneaking along the outer wall of the town fortress. How they got there in the first place was a matter of convincing Regina's father to take them to market to get Emma some clothes, and then hopping in the back of a wagon full of supplies bound for the home of a local wizard. The blond from another realm wanted to see more magic, and Cora wasn't the sort to perform party tricks for pretty much anyone, especially not strange girls that trespassed onto her property.

"Probably not," Emma giggled, holding the brunette's hand as they edged closer to the open window they'd spied earlier. She was now dressed 'properly' according to Regina, in a simple ankle-length full-bodied dress, cinched at the waist, though next to Regina's town dress it was rather plain. "But it is fun. You need to get out more, do something besides go to lessons and ride your horse. I do this sort of thing all the time back home. Usually gets me in trouble, but at least I saw or did something fun."

"Yes, but trespassing onto a wizard's property is more… dangerous than fun!" she hissed.

"We're kids," Emma shrugged. "Anybody that does anything to kids is a monster and deserves whatever they get in the end. Besides, I'm curious. I've never seen half the things you take for granted and I want to see what all the fuss is about. How many people, do you think, can say that they've seen real magic?"

"Most people are scared of magic and they often wish that they'd never witnessed it," Regina said. "At least that is what father says. I'm inclined to agree after having seen mother when she's angry and trying to be scary."

"Yeah, well, most people where I'm from don't believe magic exists, let alone fairies, mermaids and ogres," Emma said as she pulled herself up to and then into an open window leading into the interior of the fortress. Leaning back out, she held out her hand for Regina, saying, "Come on."

"This is such a bad idea," the brunette whimpered before taking the hand and allowing herself to be pulled inside the wizard's castle.

Once inside, they both took a look around the spacious room they found themselves in. The floors were solid marble, colorful designs interlaced all over. The walls were solid and were equally embroidered, portraits and trophies of various natures interspersed everywhere there was space. As for furniture, well, actually, there was just a single pedestal upon which rested a sphere made of solid, perfectly transparent crystal. A crystal ball in other words.

"Whoa," Emma said, a bit between overwhelmed and underwhelmed. "Talk about your clichés."

"What is it?" Regina asked, smoothing out her dress.

"My guess," she said, "a crystal ball. You know, the kind that lets you see into the future, people's hearts and all that stuff."

"Truly?" she gasped, awed by such powerful magic.

"Hm, quite insightful for a non-believer," a voice spoke from right behind the young girls.

Screaming, they turned and backed away from the source of the voice, which in this case was a wizened old man in royal robes of blue and silver with a full beard and neck-length silver-white hair. He just smiled pleasantly at the pair, making no move to attack or stop them, just watching and smirking at them, like a grandfather who had successfully pranked his grandchildren.

Once they stopped screaming and calmed down a bit, he said to Emma, "You are correct, young lady, in that it is made of crystal and what it is primarily used for, although I will not be the first to admit that the future is most difficult to divine. Mostly I use it for spying on the untrustworthy and communicating with my fellow magicians. I don't call it a 'crystal ball' however."

"So what do you call it?" Emma asked with all the innocence of a child.

Chuckling now, he began to pace around the room, keeping his distance from the children for the moment. "It is the Eye of Agamato. Well, one of them. Agamato actually has several thousand eyes, so he doesn't mind sparing a few for those he deems worthy. It reveals the truth of things. People, places, events… hearts and minds."

"Cool," Emma commented, keeping an eye on the wizard and one hand on Regina's wrist, just in case. "So, what's your name, Mister Wizard?"

"Emma!" Regina whispered, admonishing. "Our apologies, sir. We did not mean to intrude…"

"Girl, please save yourself the embarrassment of adding perjury to trespass," he interrupted.

"Say what?" Emma snapped. "What's purr, per, purse, jury…?"

"Perjury," he repeated, now standing on the other side of the pedestal from the girls. "It means to lie. You did mean to intrude, even if it was only to slake a passing fancy of curiosity. Nevertheless, your apologies are accepted."

"You never answered my question," Emma pointed out.

"Hm?" the man hid his smile beneath his white beard. "Didn't I? Oh dear, how inhospitable of me. People know me as Merlin, the magician. My name is Myrddin Emrys, however. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

Emma was gob-smacked. She'd begun to doubt whether she was actually having a dream or not by this point. Pointing, mouth hanging open, she asked, "You-you're Merlin? The Merlin?!"

"Indeed," he bowed his head.

"My name is Regina, sir, daughter of Prince Henry and the Lady Cora. This is my friend, Emma Swan. I… apologize, but… I've never heard of you, sir," Regina curtseyed. "Are you from a neighboring kingdom? Are you perhaps from Emma's home? Could you help her to return?"

"A pleasure to make your acquaintance," he bowed in greeting. "I have heard of your parents and was present at your naming, my dear. I daresay that both of them would be appalled at your actions today," he gave them both a wink and said, "Good for you."

Regina could only blush and try not to crumple before her friend and this powerful wizard.

"As for you, my dear, I think you're more of a duckling than a swan," he said to Emma.

"No jokes about being an ugly duckling!" Emma snarled. Apparently that particular parable was a sore point for her with her chosen surname. Still, she wouldn't change it for anything.

"I would never dare," Merlin vowed. "So, what, other than curiosity, brings two ducklings to my doorsteps, hm?"

"Just that, really," Emma answered with a casual shrug. "Regina and her dad were getting me some new clothes and stuff, and I spotted your castle here. When she explained that a wizard lived here, I wanted to see some more magic stuff, seeing as her mom wasn't in the mood to deal with curious kids. I don't think she likes kids at all, really."

"Hm, having met Miss Regina's mother on more than one occasion, I can in all honesty say that that does not surprise me," he said. "So, you just came to see some magic then? Nothing else?"

"We meant no harm, sir," Regina quickly excused them. "Emma is telling the truth, we were only curious."

"We, huh?" Emma smiled at her friend, who smiled right back.

"Indeed?" Merlin asked, pacing around the pedestal again, giving them a pointed look.

"Well…" Regina said after a tense silence.

"I thought as much," he chuckled. "Well, out with it, timid duckling."

Emma tried to smother her giggling, at which point Regina glared at her, but continued anyway. "You see, sir, Emma is… well, lost. She just appeared on the edge of our property this morning and came running from the woods wearing the strangest garments while I was out riding my horse. If, being as great and powerful a wizard as Emma says you are, then perhaps you could help her find her way home?"

"Alright, how could you not know who Merlin is?!" Emma yelled at her friend, hands thrown up in expression of her exasperation and disbelief.

"As you said, I don't get out much," Regina said with her nose in the air. Then she looked downcast as she admitted, "And my tutors tend to avoid speaking of the magic users of other lands, if they speak of magic at all."

"Oookay, fair enough," Emma shrugged. "So, is King Arthur kicking around here somewhere?"

"Ah, yes, I begin to understand," Merlin replied with a full belly laugh. "Sadly, my… duckling," Emma scowled and now it was Regina smothering her giggles, "the Arthur that you speak of is several hundred years dead and gone. And to answer your questions, my dear Regina, I am from the kingdom of Camelot. It is across the ocean from here, but a very real place in this realm. I know of which realm you come from, Miss Swan, but it is not within any magician's power to reach it. For it is a realm without magic and without that, traversing the realms becomes a great deal more dangerous."

"Then how did I get here in the first place?" Emma asked, concerned over the thought of never going home, if only because she'd miss having baths the normal way, not to mention the food, TV, and all the other modern amenities. And she hated dresses!

"Hm, well, if for nothing else, I suppose I owe you for an interesting afternoon," Merlin chuckled. "If you would, both of you, reach out and touch the Eye, please. Not to worry, it shall not harm you. As I said, it only reveals the truth of things. There you are." He then turned his attention to the now brightly glowing crystal ball.

"Awesome," Emma commented. "Way better than anything you'd see at the fortune teller booth at Coney Island!"

"Indeed," Merlin agreed, staring into the shining light of the Eye of Agamato.

"Is… do we need to do anything, or-or give you anything, Merlin, sir?" Regina asked. At Emma's curious look, she said, "My mother always tells me that magic comes with a price. At least… when she talks about her magic at all that is. Usually it is just a matter of paying the wizard's price, but sometimes…"

"Uh oh," Emma winced as she realized that her curiosity probably got her and her friend into a lot more trouble that she'd been expecting.

"Not to worry, my ladies," Merlin quickly assured them. "For this, I feel that I actually am the one in debt to the pair of you. Also, it is only dark wizards that exact a… hefty price for their services. I am but a humble magician."

"Yeah, like the most famous one ever!" Emma blurted out.

"But still humble," Merlin laughed at her enthusiasm. "You may remove your hands now. Thank you, my dears. You have actually answered a question that has plagued me for years now. What to do with the rest of my eternity, now that my friends and pupils have all gone away, now that my kingdom stands on its own and requires my aid no longer? For this, I owe you much indeed. So, I will grant you three gifts, each. The first is, my aid whenever either of you require it. This does not mean that I am at your beck and call merely that you know me and I know you and we have the chance to become friends and allies. The second, and hopefully the most useful to you, I shall tell each of you, in private of course, what I saw of your futures in the Eye of Agamato. Thirdly, you may ask, whether today or at a later time, one boon of me."

"Boon?" both girls asked in unison.

"A… favor, or perhaps even some object or power that I have in my possession that you desire, something along those lines," he explained.

"Awesome!" Emma crowed.

"Amazing! Thank you, sir!" Regina cried out.

"Ah, you say that now, but just wait a bit before deciding anything. After all, your future may not be what you expect of it and waiting to call on a favor might be in your best interest, hm?"

"Can I have Excalibur?" Emma asked instantly.

"No," Merlin said just as quickly.

Regina couldn't help but laugh at the expression on Emma's face, so much so that she forgot to ask what 'Excalibur' actually was.

"Can't blame a girl for trying," she said with a shrug. "So, Mister Wizard, what's my fortune?"

Glancing outside at the setting sun, he looked back at them and replied, "Yes, seeing that time is against us, we'd best address the more important matters first. Please, let us adjourn to some place more comfortable. No harm will come to you within these walls, you have my word. I think I'll speak to Emma first, if you don't mind waiting, Regina? There are refreshments if you require them."

"Thank you, sir," she curtseyed once more as the magician lead them to a sitting room further down the hallway.

"Oh, none of that, if you please," he said. "I'm a magician, not a knight. You may call me Merlin. As I said, most do. Now then, don't mind Archimedes, he's always a bit restless in the first of the evening. Refreshments are on the table. Emma, if you wouldn't mind?" He opened a side door to a private study from the sitting room.

Sitting behind the large desk, reminiscent of a few principal desks she'd seen in her time, Merlin casually gestured for her to sit in one of the two chairs in front of said desk. Hiding her nervousness behind a mask of indifference, she put herself on the edge of the seat and looked at the magician expectantly.

"Emma Swan, eight years old, found on the side of the highway in Maine, in the arms of a little boy, wrapped up in a blanket with her name sewn into it," he began, stunning her more and more with every word. "You've been through nine different homes, four before you could even walk. Met a book shop owner the other day on your birthday, where he gave you a rather special gift, and told you that emotion was the key, but control was the key to emotion, or something like that? Hm?"

"How…" Emma stopped herself and asked a more valid question, as the answer to the first was rather obvious at this point. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Just getting a bit of background out of the way," Merlin said with a shrug. "I will tell you this, so that you don't waste time in the future searching for the answer. Your parents loved you. Well, love you, as they are still alive. They were forced to give you up. Not due to financial misfortune or any other horror stories you've heard, my dear. They were forced to give you up to save your life. If they had not done what they did, you would be dead. Eight years dead to be precise."

Emma gulped and did her best to keep from jumping up and running away as fast as her little legs could carry her. Tears pooled in her eyes, but she would not let them fall. Merlin, showing more compassion and understanding than any adult she'd ever met, patiently waited for her to compose herself, even conjuring a box of tissues on her side of the desk if she needed it. She did smile a bit at the display of magic.

Once she'd calmed herself and nodded for him to continue, he breathed a slow sigh as he proceeded to give her the 'fortune' he'd seen in his 'crystal ball'.

"One day, not any time soon I'm afraid, but one day you will find and learn of what happened to your parents. If you read that book I mentioned to the end, you already suspect what happened. It is the truth. And one day you'll meet them again."

At that announcement, Emma could no longer hold back the tears, but Merlin continued nevertheless.

"That, as they say, is the good news. To explain some things, that book you have? It is something of a history book."

"But, it's my story," Emma sniffled.

"Indeed," Merlin nodded, "Which is why I said it was something of a history book, instead of identifying it as just that. I can only guess as to how, but you used that book to put yourself inside one of the stories you were reading. Specifically, the story of young Regina."

"What? But, how could I… wait, are you saying I went back in time?!" Emma yelled.

"As well as crossed from your realm, a realm with no magic, into ours. One or the other is difficult. Both, at the same time? The common term for such a feat, Emma, is called a miracle. The amount of power required to do what you've done is staggering to imagine. Unless, of course, certain… precautions are put in place."

"Precautions?" she repeated, growing suspicious.

"I do not know this, only suspect, but," Merlin shifted nervously now, drawing a grin from the mischievous Swan, "I think that the man that gave you your book, your story, was me. My future self. Somehow he created it to… augment your own natural magical talents. Think of it as a lens, or perhaps even better, a telescope. All you have to do is focus on your destination, the 'story' in the book, and channel your magic appropriately."

"So… do I need the book to get back?" she asked.

Shaking his head, he explained, "No. You see, all magic comes with a price, just as young Regina said. And the price of traversing time and the realms would be twofold. Either it would require the greatest sacrifice imaginable to empower the magic, whether it be curse or artifact or miracle. Or…"

"Or?" she said when he left it hanging.

"Or it would be temporary," he concluded. "From what the Eye showed me, you will only be able to stay in this realm for one day. Twenty-four hours to the minute. So, the good news in that is that you'll soon find yourself back home. The rather sad fact of the matter is that you'll be saying goodbye to your friend much sooner than either of you expected."

"Oh," Emma looked down, suddenly not that eager to go back. She wanted to ask, she even looked up and opened her mouth, but Merlin beat her to the punch.

"There is no way to extend your time. You may come back as often as you wish, but you will still leave after one day. And it would be a day for a day. By that, I mean that you won't be able to return for at least twenty four hours after you return."

"OK," the blond girl nodded, understanding what she'd been told so far. "Now, about my future? When… can you tell me how long before I can meet my parents?"

Merlin leaned back in his chair, his eyes unfocused, seeing beyond the current surroundings. Finally, he said to her, "At least… yes, at least twenty more years for you, I'm afraid. Any sooner and… well, let's just say that there was a reason your parents sent you away and for at least the next twenty years, that reason will still exist."

"Twenty years?!" she screamed again, actually getting to her feet. "That's not fair!"

Smiling understandingly at her, he nodded. "No, no it is not fair. And if there was anything that I could do for you, to change that for you, I would my dear. But there are some things that are beyond even Merlin the Magician's power to change."

"Some help you are!" Emma raged, pacing around the room furiously. "Why can't you just take me to them instead of giving me a stupid book for my birthday, huh?! Better yet, why don't you effing adopt me?! If that really was you in the book store, huh? Why does the world hate me!"

Merlin was there to catch her when she collapsed, crying uncontrollably, shaking and wailing in his arms. Holding the emotionally distraught destined savior of the Enchanted Forest Realm in his arms, Merlin just about broke down himself. Whispering to the wailing girl in his arms, he said, "I'll see what I can do."

A few minutes, and an awkward exchange later, Regina was sitting there in front of Merlin's desk, looking as skittish as a mouse in the lion's den.

"You," Merlin began, seeing odd parallels between this conversation and another between himself and a young boy that had the telling name of Arthur Pendragon, "Regina, daughter of Henry, son of King Xavier, have a destiny. A very important and terrifying destiny."

"I… I do?" she whispered, shrinking in on herself. Compared to the vision he'd received of who and what she would become, Merlin forced himself not to do a double-take. It was more striking than night and day.

"Yes, I'm afraid that you do. Thanks to your mother and several other forces at work," Merlin told her as gently as possible, which given the news wasn't gentle enough. "I would tell you what your destiny entails, even map it out for you so you can know exactly what to expect, when, what, and how to deal with it so you'll be able to make your own decisions about your destiny. But to be quite frank with you, my dear, if I were to do so, you would not understand it and your life would be that much worse as those others would merely change their manipulations to take into account your own actions."

"So… so I have no choice?"

The black haired princess said that with far too much resignation for Merlin to just sit by and do nothing about it.

"The end result? No, you and Emma will end up where you end up, I cannot change that," Merlin said with much regret. "But." He suddenly smiled brightly, startling the girl into her own grin of happiness. "But life, despite what most say, is not about the destination. It is about the journey. And between now and your eighteenth birthday, I shall do everything in my not inconsiderable power, to make yours and Emma's journey as fun and interesting as possible."

"But… how? And, if my destiny is so truly terrible, why not… why not end me, sir? So that I cannot harm others? Or even to spare my pain?" she asked.

"For those that are truly good," Merlin answered her, "killing is never the answer. There is always a way. Try and remember that, Regina. When things are at their darkest and most terrible, remember that there is always a way. It may be painful, illogical, even crazy, but there is always a way, so that everybody lives."

"As for how," he smiled once more and stood up to walk around to her side of the desk, "well, that is where Emma comes in. She is a stranger to our lands, and she needs a guide."

"A guide?" Regina repeated, her curiosity piqued.

"Yes, a guide," he nodded in confirmation. "Someone that does know our world and can explain things to her. Who people are, the names of places and things, how to ride a horse…" he trailed off there at that.

"I… I could do that," she said, her face lighting up.

"Hm? Could you? Well, then, let us see about making that official, shall we?" Merlin walked back around the desk and sorted through a few of the drawers before coming up with a small medallion. On an adult, it would have been a very tight fitting necklace, but on a child of Regina's stature, she could hide it easily beneath her dresses.

"I, Mryddin Emrys of Camelot, Merlin the Magician, hereby dub thee, Regina, daughter of Henry, son of Xavier, my emissary with Emma Swan, charging her with the task of guiding and aiding our duckling in my absence."

Regina giggled, but maintained her composure enough to curtsey and bow her head so that he could place the medallion around her neck.

"There, now it is official. And," he put his finger along the side of his nose, "more importantly you can now go to wherever Emma is when she needs you. She won't always appear on the edge of your estate, and it would be dreadfully boring if she only ever visited your home."

"Thank you, sir—Merlin," Regina quickly corrected herself. "I shall perform my duties to the best of my abilities."

"See that you do," Merlin said. "Between her visits, it would be best if you took your studies more seriously, and started looking into the names of neighboring kingdoms and their leaders, customs, so that you could explain them to Emma wherever you end up. I assure you, the two of you will end up having great fun to make up for your loss of free time."

"I will do my best!" Regina promised, her eyes sparkling at the challenge.

"Excellent!" Merlin clapped his hands. "Ah, look at the time. Best you two were off. Emma shall return to her world during the night. When asked by your parents, tell them that she went to bed alongside you and you never awoke or knew that she had left till the morning. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Regina acknowledged. "Thank you for your hospitality."

"It was my pleasure, Regina," Merlin laughed. "My pleasure indeed."

–108 Mifflin Lane, Storybrooke, ME–

They made their way back to the kitchen after putting Henry to bed. There was an uncomfortable silence filling the air between them, broken only when Regina decided it was better to fall back on hostess instincts than let the tension continue.

"How would you like some of the best apple cider on the East Coast?"

"Got anything stronger?"

"Should we really take things in that direction, after so long?" she replied.

"Bring on the cider!" Emma said overly enthusiastic.

Once they each had a full glass of her homemade apple cider, and a few sips to loosen the tension, at least a little bit, Regina had finally lost her patience over the question she could feel burning on Emma's lips, even from several feet away. "Ask," she said, taking another swig.

"Who are you?"

Brow raised, Regina didn't bother to say anything, letting her look speak for her.

"I mean, you're Gin, obviously," Emma said, trying to explain herself. "My friend, my partner, my guide, my… well, you are Regina Mills. Obviously. But I'm, other than Emma Swan, the Ugly Duckling that became the Beautiful Swan, but I'm also the universally known magic thief Swan. I'm the apprentice of Merlin, the Savior, and the Realm Crosser. So, who are you?"

"Are you sure you want to know?" Regina whispered.

"In the Book, you were destined to be the Evil Queen, the woman that tried to kill my mother, Snow White, and the person to curse the realms," Emma said, taking a long pull of her cider.

"It's true," Regina said, not even considering the possibility of lying to her old friend. "I'm the Evil Queen. And I cast the curse and brought everyone of the Enchanted Forest to this magic-less world and placed them here in the town of Storybrooke. Henry's right."

"Cool," Emma nodded her head.

Regina shot her another double-take. "Cool?!"

"Yep, very cool in fact," Emma nodded.

"How is me being the Evil Queen, cool?"

"So were you a black crown?" Emma questioned her, rather than answer.

That term gave the mayor pause. Her first instinct was to scream 'No!', scandalized at the very thought. Then she actually thought about it. A full minute later, she finally admitted, both to herself and to her blond friend, "Not… exactly. I made, I let everyone believe that I was, but…"

"But you never took that leap, did you?" Emma confirmed. Regina shook her head.

"I suppose I became more of what you'd call a… red crown."

"Not gray?" Emma sounded surprised.

"I may not have actually let blood get on them, but my hands were responsible for a great many deaths. I… I killed. I'm a murderer, Swan," tears started to pool in her brown eyes.

"Bull shit," the blue-eyed blond scoffed, drawing an angry glare from the guilt-ridden woman.

Before she could actually say anything, Emma continued to explain exactly why that was bull shit. "First off, you were a queen, yes?" Mute with growing anger, Regina could only nod. "Second, the people you killed, as in personally killed, were they foreign dignitaries or nobility or even members of your own court?" Frowning, Regina conceded that when she had been responsible for those sorts of deaths, she'd worked through proxies and other agents, not actually killing those people herself. "Lastly, have you ever actually crushed a heart in your hand?"

Regina startled, looking at the woman across from her with fear filled eyes. How did she know? How could she know? Slowly, and only because she was absolutely certain they were alone and it was just her and Swan, she shook her head. No, she'd never actually crushed a heart in her hand, the pinnacle of dark magic skill.

"I…" she whispered, her voice thick with emotion, "I did a heart swap, each and every time. Switching the heart for a fake, making the magic coincide with the magical release normally associated with the destruction of a heart. I just made them pass out and slow their breathing to nothing with the real heart. Banishing them with new faces and no memories was easy after that. How did you know?"

Emma just smirked at her, refusing to answer as she finished off her apple cider.

"How did you know?" she repeated.

"I'll answer that if you answer this," Emma said. "When was the last time that you thought about me and our adventures? I mean, really went over it in your mind, reminiscing, taking a walk down memory lane, think about me?"

"Ah…" Regina made to answer, but then her jaw snapped shut. Her brow creased as she frowned and her eyes flashed back and forth as she tried to come up with an answer. She blinked and stared at the blond woman with wide, shocked eyes. "It… it's been… years. I, I remembered you, but the last time that I actually thought about you was… shortly after I met Daniel. And then he, and then I was rather distracted by things. And then…"

"Time slipped by," Emma finished for the brunette woman. "Same thing happened to me. I wasn't visiting the Enchanted Forest every other day, and so I got on with my life and dealt with the present. Then, after I couldn't find the book, I didn't really have much opportunity to remember the end of said book; Rumplestiltskin's curse. Evil Queen getting rid of all the Happy Endings. Snow and Charming sending their child, me, to safety. And…"

"The postcard," Regina gasped. "I… oh god, I sent the post card and, I didn't even question it. I just saw the date circled in my appointment book and… How did I forget? How did you forget? And for the last time, how did you know?"

"Life," Emma shrugged. "As for the other... We knew you'd become the Evil Queen and I took you to that one place so we could both learn how to 'fake' dark magic. I didn't even remember that until I asked you about it just now."

"I… yes, I remember now," Regina nodded her head. "My word. It's been years!"

"More for you than for me," she joked.

"Laugh it up, Swan," she sighed. "Laugh it up."

"Thanks, I intend to," the blond laughed into her empty glass. Regina rolled her eyes and then poured her another, refilling her own at the same time.

"Been practicing your magic?" Emma asked, to move the conversation along.

Arching one perfect dark eyebrow at her old friend, the mayor rhetorically asked her, "I'm sure that you heard how I cursed an entire population to a magic-less realm, so why would you ask me such a silly question, my dear?"

Shooting back a raised eyebrow of her own, Emma replied with the question, "How do you think I practiced while I was away, or between adventures?"

Regina blinked, did a triple-take at the smug blond woman and then frowned. "You're saying there is magic here?"

"I'm saying that you have magic, same as me," she shrugged. "The… obvious stuff; teleportation, telekinesis, elemental control, transformation, all of that is… more difficult and requires a lot of power. So you either have to build it up or tap into a source of magic. Small stuff, all my 'tricks'? All that works just fine." She took another sip of her refilled glass.

"Prove it," Regina growled.

Emma just shrugged and then reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out... Regina's watch? Looking quickly to her wrist, the brunette saw that the piece of jewelry was indeed missing. Frowning, she grabbed it back, saying, "Cute. But not what I had in mind."

"What part of 'the obvious stuff is more difficult' was hard to understand?" she retorted. "My tricks and a really weak version of Perception Filter and downright pathetic Invisibility is all that works without a bit of preparation. Although, it is really nice to know that I can pull off everything David Copperfield can without any of the same props, not really all that conducive to convincing someone that magic is real, or works."

"Maybe if you tried something that wasn't just the magical version of picking someone's pocket?" she prompted. "Sawing me in half perhaps?"

"OK, maybe I should have used Derren Brown as an example," she sheepishly admitted. "Point is, I can do what any street magician can with zero prep time, unwilling participants and no props. If you want me to light a candle for you, or boil some water, make ice, put a chill in the air, or even take a punch like an old oak tree, I can do that too, it'll just take me a few minutes to gather then energy."

"Like an old tree? Not a mountain?" Regina teased.

"That's the big, obvious stuff again," Emma pointed out.

"Fine, show me this 'downright pathetic' invisibility then? I'll recognize it for magic, even if it is as you say pathetic," she said.

Emma shrugged, and then suddenly she wasn't in the room.

Regina blinked and cast her eyes all around the room and kept going between the door and where she'd been sitting, but there was no trace of her at all! She remembered her old friend Swan being good, especially at hiding and sneaking about, but this was...

"Ah!" she let out a yell when she felt a hand that she couldn't see on her thigh. A heartbeat and an eye blink later, she could once again perceive Emma, sitting there beside her on the loveseat. She'd also forgotten how disconcerting that sort of thing was... er, when on the receiving end that is. "Was scaring me half to death really necessary?"

"No, but it was fun," the blond gave her an impish grin.

"How did you do that? How does it work?" she asked, quickly getting over her embarrassment.

Emma shrugged, eyes rolling up in thought for a moment, before focusing back on her and she asked, "What was your favorite spell, once you'd gotten a hold on magic, I mean? After you started learning, what of the – no doubt – thousands of spells that you mastered did you use repeatedly, day after day, several times a day even? If it was teleporting, telekinesis, transfiguration or elemental powers, disregard them."

Regina considered several times before answering and frowned at the answer. "Switching. A-and m-memory spells," she finally said with no small amount of regret.

"OK, switching we can do," Emma said, ignoring the implications for the moment. "Kind of an extra step to what I did with your watch there. So, we'll keep it simple and then, same as I did, you'll practice more on your own. Switch our watches. Although, I fully expect this back just so we're clear."

"Alright," Regina said with a gulp. Then, while glancing back and forth between her own wrist and the one Emma was holding up, until she held up her other hand and twitched her wrist like she was swishing an imaginary wand. Nothing happened.

"You do know that that hand gestures do absolutely nothing, right?"

Frowning, Regina tried again, focusing her anger and frustration to channel the magic as she once did.

"OK, that right there, that's not going to work here," Emma interrupted her.

"What? I'm doing what you said!"

"No, you were trying to channel the magic," she pointed out. "Channel as in, to draw from an available source. There's not magic to channel anymore. You have to use what you've got instead. Back to basics. Clear your mind, focus on the goal, everything else is just a way of circling back to the goal. Will it to happen. Don't try to channel or draw on anything, just... will it, focusing on nothing but the goal."

The brown-eyed brunette took a deep, calming breath and kept her eyes locked on the two watches. And suddenly, she blinked and the large round leather strapped contraption was on her wrist while her jewelry piece was on Swan's. It... it had been easy, she realized with a start.

"See, knew you could do it," Emma grinned and almost casually switched their watches back.

"Why would you show me that?" she asked after a heavy minute of silence.

"Why wouldn't I?" was the reply.

"I'm the Evil Queen," she said, her tone dark.

"And I'm a magic thief," she shrugged, sipping her apple cider.

"You're the Saviour," she insisted.

"Apparently," the blond shrugged, "but I was the magic-using thief Swan first. And you're my friend, Gin. We've saved each others lives... I don't know how many times. We showed each other our respective worlds. So Merlin showed me magic and you learned from, uh..."

"Rumplestiltskin," the brunette supplied with a dry tone.

"Really?" Emma's eyes went wide. "Well, that explains a few things."

"And what things might those be?"

Emma wisely decided she was not going to answer that one.

"You're not even going to ask about your parents?" she asked with a wicked smile.

Giving her friend an odd look, the reply was surprising. "Why would I?"

Blinking off her shock with a practiced ease, Regina tried a different tactic. "How long are you planning on staying in town for, Swan?"

"I wasn't," she shrugged. "I was just here to drop the kid off. Although, now that I know you're here, I'll be sure to drop by now and again. We can catch up on old times."

It was becoming more and more difficult to hide her confusion and surprise with each passing moment. "I'm sorry? You're not staying? After everything, you're not even going to try and break the curse?"

"It's your curse," she said, sipping the last of her cider, "do you want it broken?"

"Of course not. It's my happy ending!" she said angrily.

"Well, there you go," Emma put down her glass, getting to her feet, Regina rising with her. "Although, you're actually wrong about that."

"Wrong about what?" Regina demanded, following the blond out into the foyer.

"It's not your 'happy ending', Gin," she explained, stopping by the door. "That's what the curse does, remember? It gets rid of all the happy endings. Including yours. Until it is broken, you're in the same purgatory that everyone else is."

"That's ridiculous!" the brunette exclaimed.

"You know what the old man told me, that first day? Hm? That if my parents hadn't sent me through that wardrobe, I would be dead. Killed by your men," she poked the other woman in the chest. "Because if I hadn't gone through the wardrobe, then I wouldn't have gotten that book from you know who when I was eight, I wouldn't have gone back and met you, we wouldn't have made it so you could be a red crown instead of a black crown, and you would not be raising my child as your son. A child that says you don't love him. Let's face it, Regina, as long as this curse is unbroken, you can't love him. The curse creates a hole in your heart, and until it is broken, that hole cannot be filled. Same catch 22 that we faced the last time we saw one another."

Regina's face was unreadable as Emma finished speaking. When she finally could, she reached around and opened the door and said, "Good night, Miss Swan. Please stop by again soon."

Frowning, she tried to get a read on her old friend anyway, but was frustrated that nothing came of it. "Yeah, good night. 'Bye," she said just as the door was slammed, practically in her face.

"Way to go Swan, way to go," she grumbled to herself, walking back to her car in silence.

Fifteen minutes later, she was just coming up on the sign saying "You Are Now Leaving STORYBROOKE", mind lost in memory and regrets. That was probably why she didn't see it at first, but just twenty feet from the sign, she saw a wolf standing in the middle of the road, staring right at her, and close enough that she could see that it had one red eye and one black eye. She tried to avoid it, even stop in case there were more, but the rain had started up again and apparently it was enough to send her into a skid. She crashed into the trees beside the sign, knocking herself out on the steering wheel. If she'd been conscious, she would have seen that the wolf had vanished without a trace.

Continued...