Willow Whispers was tiny, standing several inches below five feet. Her gray hair that had straggled about her back in the highlands was now neatly cut and coiffed, probably Lady Elinor's doings. She wore a brightly colored flowery house-dress which had gone out of style long before Storybrooke appeared and mis-matched sneakers below her cast. She tottered to the kitchen muttering about making a proper cuppa and wondering if there were any chocolate biscuits left.

Merida's frown deepened as she followed the older woman. "You broke your leg."

Willow grinned, "Of course I did. Had to get you here somehow, didn't I?"

"You broke your leg on purpose?"

"Of course not. Where did your mum put the sugar?" Willow climbed onto the counter and started moving boxes and cans around in the cabinet. "I pretended to break my leg (the x-rays were very convincing) and then made noises about how the young folk these days don't know their place. It's always the adults who already have jobs to do who take on the responsibilities for assisting their elders. Blah, blah, blah. Your mum volunteered you right away. Predictable, that one is."

The younger woman picked up an intricately carved wooden bear and considered hurling it through one of the windows. It would make such a nice, satisfying, crashing noise. "You ruined my life," she repeated.

"Bah!" The witch turned carefully, still on the counter, balancing a box of corn flakes on her head, a jar of black olives in one hand and peanut butter in the other, and a bag of flour clutched between her knees. "You asked me to change your fate; I did. You were headed for a loveless, political marriage and bound to resent your parents. And now look at you!"

"Still bound for a loveless, political marriage."

"No, no!" The old witch hastily stowed her food back in the cabinet and climbed down. "You needed to realize that your mother loved you, no matter what. And she needed to see that you were not meant to be a confined 'lady of the house', sewing tapestries and supervising servants. Your father needed to see that you were not only smart and brave for a girl, that you were more than just a daughter to be married off. You didn't get married, did you!"

"Well, that hasn't really worked out that way, has it? For two years I was allowed to be me. And then the Curse hit! And the clans are powerless in this new land. We can't go home. We can't leave Storybrooke. My father was as powerful as any lowland king! And they ignore him! The clan lairds think that we need to ally ourselves to lowlander kingdoms and we'll be included in the decision making then." She fisted her hands and shook them at the witch, yelling, her brogue getting thicker, "They canna understand! None o' them. It's no the bloody lowlander nobles in charge. It's that bloody Snow White! She and her little posse." Merida slumped, defeated, into a chair. "I can't even tell my parents. I don't know how to tell my parents….

"I want to go to college. I want to study science and math and… and… I want to try out for the Olympic team in archery. I'm good enough with my old bow! Just think how great I'd be with one of those modern bows!

"I want to be a normal teenager and have a dozen crushes on boys before I fall head over heels in love with one of them. I don't want to find myself married at 19 to Prince Eric's gay cousin, no matter how gorgeous he is, just because my parents think we need allies."

The witch sat in the chair opposite Merida. "My dear." She reached over to pat the girl's hand. "You're not a child any more. It's time to stop acting like one. You want to go to college? Go!"

Merida sighed as she dug her bare toes further into the cold sand next to PJ's flip-flops. It was still early June, but the sun was out, temperatures were finally reaching the mid-70s, the wind off the water was gentle enough that one did not need a jacket, and many of the newly graduated were sunbathing. A daring few were out splashing in the still frigid waves. Between writing college essays, house cleaning for the witch, more 'dates' with Vincent and the parents, and PJ getting a job stocking groceries, the two had had very little time to be together.

Although, to be completely fair, 'house cleaning' consisted of demonstrating (over and over and over again) that she had absolutely no aptitude for learning magic to go along with no desire to actually do magic. And quite a bit of Mrs. Whispers telling Merida to stop acting like a sulky child. And being reminded that there were hundreds of colleges within a five or six hour drive, so if she really wanted to go, she should pack up and go already.

Of course, there was that teensy problem about returning to your cursed form if you crossed over the town line…..

Merida assumed that in addition to Mrs. Whispers actively looking for a way past the town barrier, the other magicians were also searching. Privately she thought that they'd have greater luck if they all worked together, but the probability that the Blue Fairy's light magic would mesh with Rumplestiltskin's dark magic was essentially quite close to zero if the way they behaved towards each other in public was any indication of how they truly felt about each other.

So, for the moment, there was one way out of town. A one way ticket for Merida and Jack. Or rather Fiona and PJ.

Hence, enjoying the small moments like this one. The cool, gritty sand sliding between her toes. The crisp salty scent of the ocean mixed with the earthier odors of decaying seaweed and dead shell fish. Shrieks and laughter from former classmates as warm toes met frigid water echoed by the gulls hunting for fish. The ocean changing colors from blue to green and hints of yellow/white reflecting the sun. The roar and crash of the waves hitting the shore, and the slither sliding sounds as the water retreated over the rocks. A loving boyfriend sleeping peacefully at her side, one arm shading his eyes from the sun.

"Dark One. I want to make a deal with you." Mr. Gold had briefly looked up as the door bell tinkled, announcing Merida's arrival to his shop, but he hadn't raised his eyes from the broken watch laying on the counter in front of him as she browsed the cases.

"I'm sorry, Dearie, but there is nothing you have that I want."

"I'll do…"

"Anything?" he quipped. "The word you're looking for is anything."

"Well, I was going to say that," she agreed. "But then I thought of several anythings that I would never do, so…. Within reason and for a comparable value. No small print."

Now she had his full attention. "Interesting," he mused. "You're one of a select few who placed caveats on what they will do for my… assistance. What can I do for you?"

She pulled two blank hospital forms from her backpack and placed them on the counter next to the watch. "PJ and I. We're thinking of leaving Storybrooke. Going to college in Portland or Boston, maybe. But we need papers and help. Once we cross the town line, we won't remember the last few months, right? So we'll need someone to help us if we do decide to go, to make those memories or something. And we need papers: birth certificates," she nodded at the forms, "transcripts. Stuff we need to make our way."

"Can't help you, Dearie."

"Can't or won't?"

"Either. Take your pick. I can't help you."

Merida noted the inflection. "Why not me?"

The Dark One perused one of the blank birth certificates. "When and where was Miss MacDonald born?"

"August 3, 1992. Inverness, Scotland…. Oh." Merida barely restrained herself from stomping her foot. Forging a simple birth certificate for an obscure town in Maine was quite a different story than forging an international birth certificate, visa and passport, and other documentation that proved she was here legally. Documentation that would be verified (or not, as the case would be) by people beyond the control of the Curse. And Fiona would remember a childhood spent in Inverness, legally immigrating here at age 12. She would never understand why she needed forged papers….

The shop bell tinkled again, announcing another customer. Merida was still looking at the shop keeper, so she saw his face soften, his eyes light up, and, if he hadn't been older than dirt, she would have described his grin as goofy with love as he recognized the new arrival. His drawn out "haaaaayyy" was answered by a slighter shorter in length, and more feminine, "haaayy". Merida turned to see a cleaned up version of the woman she had seen Gold escorting the morning the Curse broke stepping across the wooden floor, absurdly high heels for a woman of her age clicking against its polished surface. And the way she was looking at him? Ooh, ick. Elderly people should not be permitted to look at each other like love-sick puppies in front of other people. Although, as the woman got closer, Merida could see that this woman was probably closer in age to herself than to Gold. And if she was being charitable, it was quite possible that Gold wasn't as old (immortality aside) as he looked, either…. Rumor had it that Rumplestiltskin had lived in extreme poverty before becoming the Dark One. And poverty had a way of aging a body long before its time; she had personally met women in their twenties with the grey hair, wrinkles and teeth of septuagenarians. So maybe the age difference wasn't quite so large, after all. Still gross, though, the way they were almost making out with just their eyes. Get a room!

"Belle," Gold interrupted Merida's thoughts. "This is Merida from clan DunBroch. Merida, this is Belle from Avonlea. Sweetheart, we're almost done here. Miss MacDonald, I'm sorry, but I cannot help you."

"What about new memories? Can't you curse me once I cross? Or hypnotize me?"

"Magic doesn't work that way, Dearie." Gold was getting impatient. "Regina cast the Curse; she is the one who gave you those memories. For me to undo her work will take time. I am working on it, but…." He shrugged. "Right now I think I might have a way to leave for short periods of time. But," he held up a hand as Merida opened her mouth to speak. "But. It is no where near ready to be tested. And it would only be for short periods of time: a month, maybe two at the most. Certainly not long enough for you to go away to college."

"Merida, he's working very hard." Belle's voice was soft and low and encouraging. "He will find a way for you to cross the town line and keep your memories. You just have to be patient…"

"Patience, my young padawan," Merida muttered. At the others' startled looks, she shook her head. "Nevermind." She took the blank certificates and shoved them back into her pack. "Thanks. Nice to meet you, Belle."

Crestfallen, Merida left the pawnshop. Plan A left crushed and broken behind her in its environs. Somehow. Someway. I will leave this town.