Author's Note: This follows the timeline of the Charmed comics, meaning by 201/2012 all the sisters have had their kids that are seen in the Charmed series finale. Not a big plot point, but for those who haven't read the season 9 comics it might have been confusing.

Also, if you're a fan of the Charming family, please check out my OUAT music video "Fall Awake", about family always finding each other and waking the other up. There's a link in my profile, or you can copy, paste, and reconstruct the following URL: youtube .

com / watch?v=pAAhPYhwbDQ

If you haven't rewatched Season 1 yet, you'll be as amazed as I was putting that video together. The sheer number of mirrored lines, visuals, and such are amazing - especially between James and Emma. I included what I could in this, but there were far more.

Chapter 6: Hunting and Gathering

Paige and Phoebe reappeared on the wooded edge of a cemetery that just happened to be located on the border of the mayoral mansion grounds, and with a mutual nod, glamored into the personas they had used a few years previous. Although Regina hadn't seen them yet, it not only served to keep them off her radar, but also to make it look as if there were more than three strangers in town. At the moment conusion was their greatest tool. Paige planted her hands on her hips. "I know evil isn't exactly known for its subtlety, but having a cemetery in your back yard? Really?"

Phoebe shrugged. "Evil tends to warp your sense of normal."

"I guess you'd know," replied Paige cheekily, to which Phoebe's only response was a reflexive slap to her sister's shoulder. "Hey! I'm just saying…"

Phoebe rolled her eyes, but Paige caught the glimmer of a smirk before her sister quickly strode off into the sea of sparsely scattered headstones. "Emma said that the previous Sheriff had taken her to Regina's father's mausoleum – the only one on the grounds."

Paige took a couple leaping strides to catch up to her older sister. "Now there's a shocker. Again, where's the subtlety? It 's like they wanna be caught."

"Maybe some do."

"Like Jack the Ripper and all his wannabes who send letters to the cops to prove how much smarter they are?" asked Paige.

"Yeah. I mean, what's the point, if no one knows you're getting away with something?" Phoebe asked rhetorically.

"The stag's heart," said Paige.

"Huh?"

Paige pointed to a symbol affixed to the front of a small stone building about 20 yards away. "The mausoleum." Paige slowed as they approached. "Look at it – doesn't it look like a claddagh, except horns or antlers caging a heart instead of hands holding a heart?"

Phoebe nodded, gazing up at the mural. "Something's weird here..." She touched a hand to the structure's mossy stone wall. "It's like... warm? But not..."

Paige laid her palm against a brick as well. "I don't feel anything."

Phoebe frowned in confusion. "I think I'm sensing something coming from inside, maybe?"

"Like empathy sensing?"

Phoebe nodded. "Yeah. It kind of reminds me of when when you were pregnant with the twins. Feelings, but with no ego, or mind behind them."

"Well, Emma did say that the Sheriff thought his heart was here. Maybe his wasn't the only one?"

"I think you might be right..." Phoebe's face screwed up into a sneer. "I can on;y imagine what Coop would think of this..."

"We may find out before this is all through. I mean, if there are hearts in there, what do we do with them?" asked Paige.

"Good question. Let's cross that bridge when we get to it," replied Phoebe, who then made to open the mausoleum doors. She gripped the door's handle and tugged, but was rewarded with only a slight jiggle. She tugged harder a couple times and was met with similar results. "It's locked."

"Good thing we don't need doors," replied Paige as she took Phoebe's hand. The pair dissolved into a flurry of white lights. The ball of orbs swung around and headed for the door, but were violently ejected from the surface. The door itself gave off a spark of dark purple energy, like a magical bug zapper. The orbball came back around for a second try, this time aiming for the roof, but was met by the same magical barrier of energy. Phoebe and Paige rematerialized in a heap on the grass this time. "Well, that's not gonna work." Paige rubbed her head. "Ow, by the way."

Phoebe pulled herself to her feet and swung her head from right to left, loosening the neck muscles. "Looks like it's breaking and entering the old fashioned way." She cracked her knuckles and then screwed up her arms and shoulders, bracing for impact, and made a running leap at the door. As she slammed her right shoulder into it, the door bent back a bit before bouncing back into place. This time she rested her weight back on her heels, before lifting her right leg and delivering a forceful side kick to the door using her levitation power to give it an extra 'oomph'. This broke away whatever locking mechanism was in place, sending the door crashing in violently. It swung back and forth on its hinges, letting forth a loud squeaking whine of protest. "After you," said Phoebe, motioning at Paige.

"Remind me to brush up on my self-defense skills when all this is over," remarked Paige as she made her way into the small stone building. Phoebe followed, closing the door behind her, on the off chance that someone might happen by. The pair began looking around. "I don't see anything... except a lot of dust," said Paige, wiping her hands on her jeans to clear away the grey powder.

"You don't feel that?" asked Phoebe. She planted her hands on her hips and surveyed the room.

Paige paused, letting her whitelighter senses reach out, in much the same way she did to make sure no mortals or demons were present when she orbed into a room. There was nothing at first, but then slowly something seemed to fade in. It definitely felt like a presence, almost an aura, but just as Phoebe said, there was no character to it. No good or bad, not even defjned emotion, just unfiltered feeling. "Yeah... But I don't think it's up here. It feels more like its-"

"Underneath," finished Phoebe. "A trap door maybe?" She began fiddling with the various objects set in recessed shelves along the wall.

Paige, began to do the same, but then paused to focus, trying to get a clearer pinpoint on where the energy was emanating from. She looked down, trying to block out any distractions, when she saw it. "Pheebs, look at this." She knelt down, and ran her fingers along an arching groove in the stone floor. It was well worn, as if something had slid back and forth on this spot many times.

"It ends underneath the stone sarcophagus," remarked Phoebe. The pair exchanged a look and shrugged. They each took up a either end of Henry Mills Sr.'s supposed resting place and pushed into the direction of the scuff mark. With a little effort the stone moved surprisingly easily, as if it were hollow.

"Eureka!" exclaimed Paige as a stairway in the floor, leading underground, the portal looked large enough to get through the pair made their way downstairs into a small chamber, with walls made of brick. As they stepped into the central space that connected the two rooms they noticed that the room was actually lit. To their left was a room whose walls were honeycombed with small stone shelves. Straight ahead was what looked like an empty space. Seemingly the easier room to start with, they entered the chamber.

Phoebe spun around, examining what appeared to be square, simply carved, bluish tiles lining the walls. "God, its like being in he middle of a... actually I don't know what. But whatever that feeling is, it's all around us now."

Paige nodded. "How much you wanna bet that Regina's got herself a little collection down here? The question is, how to open it?" She walked along, examining the tiles. It wasn't long until she saw it. One appeared to be just slightly ajar. She dug a neatly manicured nail into the space and pulled. The tile moved just a bit. With a little more maneuvering she was able to pull the whole thing back and found it was the face of a drawer. She slid it open to reveal a small empty compartment. "What have we here?"

Phoebe took hold of an adjoining tile and pulled it back to reveal an identical compartment, except this one wasn't empty. She pulled out what resembled a jewelry box. "It's weirdly heavy..." she remarked as she switched to cradle it in her left hand so she could open it. She popped a small golden latch on the front and flipped up the lid. Inside, they found what looked like a large, uncut glowing ruby red stone.

"What do you think it is?" asked Paige.

Phoebe stared at the object in wonder. "I don't know. But... I think this is what that feeling my empathy is picking up is coming from."

"From a rock?" remarked Paige incredulously.

"I don't think it's a rock..." said Phoebe as she slowly put her hand into the box. As her fingers touched the strangely soft, spongy object she was suddenly sucked into a vision.

A young girl, she wore plain clothes that resembled some kind of servant's uniform. She threw herself to the floor and crawled, hands and knees before a darkly gothic woman seated upon a throne. She clutched at the royal woman's fine shoes, kissing them as tears poured down her face and she pleaded for mercy.

"Don't be afraid. I won't harm him," replied the Queen. The servant girls face lit up, cautiously hopeful. Tears still trickled down her face. "But I cannot have you trying to run away with my best footman again."

The servant girl shook her head emphatically. "No! Never your grace! I shall never if you would but spare him his life. I care not for mine!"

The evil Queen raised a perfectly arched eyebrow. "No, I expect you don't believe you will. But love is funny like that. It makes us do foolish things." The young girl nodded emphatically, eager to show she'd never cross the woman again. "I'm going to do you a favor, girl. Both of you. I'm going to rid you of life's greatest burden." The girl's face melted into confusion at this, laced with worry. "Ooh, there's no need for concern. In fact, you don't need to worry about feeling anything ever again... I've already helped your beloved." She clapped her hands together twice, and the throne room guards swung open the southern doors.

A handsome young man with a slight build stepped into the room, his face detached and emotionless. "Marcus!" exclaimed the young servant girl, but the young footman simple looked at her blankly in response to his name. "Marcus?" She swung her head back to face the queen. "What have you done to him?" she asked fearfully.

A sinister smile slithered across the queen's face. "Why, I simply helped him the way I'm going to help you, dear." She seemed to float to her feet and glide down the steps of her throne's dais, the servant girl scrambling backward to move out of her way, crabwalking backward while trying to get to her feet simultaneously. The queen came to a stop and looked down her nose at the terrified girl. With a slight nod of her head at the mousey little thing the guards stepped forward and dragged her to her feet. The queen reached out a hand and plunged it into the girl's chest.

Screaming. Cold laughter. A glowing red orb pulled from the girl's chest.

Phoebe shook her head as the vision cleared from her mind. "It's a heart." Her eyes widened as she took in just how many drawers made up the surrounding walls. "They're all hearts..."

"Oookay," said Paige. "Well, that's creepy. Now what?"

Phoebe put the heart back in its drawer. "We need to find a way to get these back to the innocents they were taken from."

"And we do that how?"

Phoebe shrugged. "I'm not sure. We should probably ask Snow. She might at least know who might be able to tell us."

"And then what?" asked Paige.

"I don't know! When did I become the miss plan-it-all?" exclaimed Phoebe.

"Hey, you're the one who's supposed to have 'all the answers'" teased Paige.

Phoebe smiled back at her sister sarcastically. "I'm on vacation."

"You should fire your travel agent," replied Paige.

"No kidding."

"We should probably make sure the heart of someone important isn't in here."

"Like who?" asked Phoebe.

Paige shrugged. "I dunno, you're the fairy tale fan."

"Fine. But you owe me some serious babysitting time for the headache this is about to give me," she said, taking in the sheer number of drawers and the nightmare visions surely attached to them.

"Hey, have you got a better plan?"

Phoebe crossed her arms. "No... but-"

Paige smirked. "Okay, then. While you do that I'll be in that other wing we passed. There might be something useful on those shelves.

Phoebe nodded and sighed as she lifted her hand to the nearest tile. "Let's get started..."

Emma pulled up at the top of the mayoral mansion's roundabout driveway and parked at the path that led to the front door. The lights were completely out, and the clouds covering the moon left the property in nearly complete darkness. Without the landscaping lit up by strategically placed spotlights, the house took on a decidedly ominous aura as it loomed above her. Emma pushed the feeling to the back of her mind. Wherever Regina was from, she had no real magic in this world. If it was a trap, it would be a decidedly mundane one. Something she could handle.

She saw movement at one of the second floor windows, and her eyes darted quickly to the source. The curtains at a second floor window swung back and forth, as if suddenly abandoned. Emma finally reached the porch and rested one hand on her gun holster, the other reaching slowly for the door handle. Even if the break-in was legitimate, there was no telling if the intruder was still restrained or had escaped in the ten minutes it took her to reach the property. Just as her hand reached the handle the door swung open suddenly, causing Emma to reflexively step back, gun drawn before she'd consciously thought to grab it. A small figure leapt from the shadows. "Emma!"

Emma sucked in a quick breath. "Jesus, kid!" She suddenly realized her gun was drawn and ready and she quickly shoved it back into its holster. "Don't do that! I could have shot you!"

Henry smiled sheepishly. "Sorry..."

"Henry!" Regina's voice echoed from deeper within the house where, now that she was inside, Emma could see emanated a low, warm glow. Emma broke into a quick stride, making her way toward the light. "I told you to stay in your room! It's not safe!" Henry followed on her heels.

When the pair reached the source of the light, Emma saw that Regina must have been fond of candles, as half a dozen flickered in the dining room, creating a strange twitching mass of shadows on the walls. Emma came to a screeching halt when she saw Regina sitting at the table, sipping on a glass of red wine, her prisoner at her elbow.

Jefferson. A cold sensation suddenly socked her in the gut.

Emma looked down at her son. "She's right, Henry." Henry pouted for a second, his eyes pleading with her to let him stay, but she was having none of it with this lunatic around. It suddenly struck here; the mad hatter was actually 'mad'', but possibly not truly crazy. Not that it made him any less dangerous. "I mean it, Henry," she said firmly, but still gently.

"Oh, alright..."

Emma ruffled his hair before nudging him back out of the room. "I promise you'll get the juicy details later," she called after him. Once she was satisfied that Henry was back in his room, she turned her attention back to Regina and Jefferson. The wild-eyed man was strapped to a high-backed chair that more closely resembled a throne than piece of dining room furniture. His nose was dripping blood ever so slowly, and his hair stuck out even more wildly than the last time she'd seen him, indicating some kind of struggle had gone down, and reminding her that Regina was not a vulnerable foe in any setting. The makeshift gag, made from a dish towel, tied around his head and through his mouth, brought flashes of Mary Margaret had just weeks earlier, locked in a bedroom of his massive empty mansion, in a similar tableau.

"What the hell is this?"

Regina crossed her arms. "Exactly what it looks like, Ms. Swan. This man broke into my house."

"What are you up to now, Jefferson?" Emma directed at Jefferson. "Another kidnapping plot?"

Regina's eyes widened. "How do you know his name?" she asked, a bit of paranoia seeping into her voice.

Emma leveled her gaze back at Regina. Had it been 24 hours earlier, she would have pressed the Mayor on why she knew the name of the intruder. But she knew why, now. And it was far too early to tip her hand. "He kidnapped Mary Margaret and myself not too long ago. We broke free, but he disappeared."

Regina crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes at Jefferson. "I see..." She looked back up at Emma. "And why wasn't I informed of a dangerous criminal on the loose?"

"The last I checked, it wasn't standard operating procedure for the sheriff to report every little incident to the mayor," countered Emma.

Regina raised an eyebrow. There was something different about the blonde's defiance. It was more flippant; less aggressively hostile. Something was going on - she could feel it. The question was, what? Unfortunately, she realized that putting Jefferson into Emma's custody might exacerbate the problem. In any case, she needed to pump him for information, and she couldn't do that with Henry in the house. But she hadn't counted on Emma knowing the the hatter - let alone him being a wanted criminal. It was only a few weeks ago he'd even been able to leave his property. Now, instead of being able to cal simply explain it was a personal matter she'd have to find another excuse to keep him out of her hands. "Of course, you're right," Regina finally sneered, the sentence leaving a bad taste in her mouth. "But for future reference, I would like to be informed if you're aware that a predator is at large in my town."

"You seemed to have held your own," replied Emma, as she circled around Jefferson. She knelt behind him and poked at the decorative rope, clearly re-purposed from a curtain, tied around the man's wrists. "Nice knot work. Don't tell me - you were a girl scout?" Emma asked flippantly. She knew this wasn't the case, of course, but it was all part of the game.

"I was an equestrian as a girl," replied Regina. Emma nodded absently as she pulled a pair of zip-tie handcuffs from her coat pocket. "What are you doing?" the brunette quickly asked.

Emma paused, giving Regina puzzled look. "Taking him in?"

"I'm not pressing charges," replied the brunette.

Emma started at this. "I'm sorry, I was under the impression this nutcase broke into your house. After cutting the electricity, it looks like. And injuring you." Emma nodded her head at the hand Regina was unconsciously cradling with the other. Her knuckles were swollen and red, the second and third suffering from scrapes as well. Regina reflexively dropped her hand and immediately folded them both behind her back. "Not to mention endangering Henry!"

"That's why I summoned you," replied Regina. "As I told you over the phone, I need you to take Henry for the evening. You know I wouldn't ask unless there was another way."

'Well, she's got me there,' Emma mused. "Ok. But I still need to take Jefferson into custody. You yourself just got done saying that he's dangerous. Even if whatever is going on here hadn't happened, he still has an outstanding warrant for kidnapping!" She knew the Mad Hatter wasn't on Regina's side per-se, but she sure as hell knew that he'd work with her if it meant getting his daughter back. Even with that fact aside, now that she knew he wasn't crazy - well, as crazy as she'd thought - that meant he wasn't under the effects of the curse, and had information she needed.

"If he were in custody, I wouldn't need you to take Henry. We have business to settle that's... time sensitive," replied Regina vaguely. "You can take him in the morning. I assure you, he won't be escaping me. "

"Don't be so sure. I practically saw him vanish into thin air. And he's clearly unstable. He wanted me to make a magic hat for God's sake!" Sure, she knew now that magic was real, but Emma knew how to cover her tracks. Your average liar would avoid the topic they have a secret about. But maestros of lying knew the best method of throwing people off was to bring it up the topic themselves.

"Then he clearly needs to be checked into the hospital's psych ward for observation," replied Regina coolly. Jefferson's eyes widened into saucers at this and he frantically darted his gaze back and forth between the two women, giving an unintelligible cry of protest through his gag.

Emma let out a frustrated sigh. "Ok. Well, then I'll call in an ambulance for transport."

A cheshire smile crept across Regina's face. "No, please, let me. Now, if you don't mind, as I said, Jefferson and I have a few... professional matters to discuss. You understand." Emma simply crossed her arms . "In private," added Regina when the blonde didn't move.

Emma raised an eyebrow. "I'm not leaving without questioning him."

"And Henry needs to go to bed soon. I realize you've never raised a child, but they need set routines to be at their best."

Emma's jaw tightened as she bit back a retort, her nostrils flaring as she drew in a deep breath through her nose. "Right. But I can't take him in without reading him his rights, and it would be in his best interest if he gave me his version of events," she directed this pointedly at Jefferson. When Regina's feet stayed planted firmly to the floor, Emma put her hands on her hips, giving the mayor a sarcastic smile. "Alone."

Regina leveled a cold look of warning at Jefferson before meeting Emma's eyes with her own. A chill went down Emma's spine as she watched the other woman's visage morph from calculating rage to elegant politeness in the space of a second. Regina gave her an aggressively polite smile. "Of course. Five minutes should be enough, I think. Mr. Milliner tends to be rather tight-lipped. I'll go tell Henry to pack his things." With a final meaningful look at Jefferson, Regina turned on her heel and made her way out of the room, pulling out her cellphone as she disappeared into the darkness. "Yes, this is Mayor Mills. I have a situation here. I'll need an ambulance equipped with restraining straps..."

"You have the right to remain silent," began Emma, slowly circling the bound and gagged man. "Anything you say or do can and will be held against you in a court of law. You have the right to speak to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be... appointed... for you." Finally the sound of heels on tile faded and Regina was safely upstairs. Emma flipped around and pulled the gag off of his head. "Mr. Milliner?"

Jefferson's face took on a bitter smile. "It's what a hat shop is called. I suppose you don't have many in this land anymore. Regina seems to have found it funny to label her victims with ironic monikers. And I am a hatter, of sorts." He shook his head. "Not that I expect you to believe that."

Emma crossed her arms and leaned back onto the kitchen counter, crossing her legs at her ankles. "Suppose I do."

Jefferson's eyebrows shot up. "You believe?"

Emma shrugged. "Your little disappearing act didn't hurt. And let's just say I've gotten a little schooling in magic since we last met."

"You're playing with me again. Telling me things I want to hear." The desperate hatter blinked, then swallowed hard. "But there is no magic here."

"No fairy tale magic," corrected Emma. "Turns out, this world and yours are a little more intertwined than even Regina's been led to believe. And the people who wield it are on my side. So now the question is, whose side are you on?"

Jefferson's brow furrowed. "Whoever can get me my daughter back."

Emma shook her head. "You don't get it, do you? If Regina wins, you know she'll never let you be happy - let alone go home."

"She could turn me into another one of the mindless brainwashed dolts that wander this town, but as long as I have my daughter by my side, I don't give a damn!"

"And you trust her to do that?" asked Emma skeptically.

Jefferson stared down at the floor. "Of course not. That's why I came here tonight. To take Henry and-"

"Use him as a bargaining chip?" growled Emma.

Jefferson looked up. "I wouldn't have hurt him. I'm not a monster. Just a father."

Emma narrowed her eyes at the desperate man. "You're just lucky Regina stopped you first. Because I've only ever had my fists to fight my battles, and I'd wager know how to use them in ways much deadlier than her highness."

"And you wouldn't be a proper mother if you didn't." He sighed. "I'd rather help you than that awful witch. But I'm a desperate man, Ms. Swan. And the final battle is approaching."

"So? Isn't that a good thing for you? You've waited this long, why can't you just be patient?"

"Be patient?" snapped Jefferson, his voice louder than was wise in this particular house. He hushed himself, continuing in a heated tone as he ranted under his breath. "Patient? I've been patient for 28 agonizing years! And if you win, as has been foretold, I still don't know what will happen. I don't think even Regina does! The only person who might know is Rumpelstiltskin!"

"Rumpelstiltskin?" replied Emma. "I thought he was just some troll with a thing for firstborns and gold... I mean, I know he made the prophecy about... me... but-"

Jefferson leaned back in his chair as best he could. "Well, she didn't call him Mr. Gold for nothing..."

"Mr. Gold is Rumpelstiltskin," she stated flatly.

Jefferson nodded. "And he had a hand in this from the beginning. He helped create the curse, and he knows what's going on. He's been awake this whole time, just like me."

"But why? What's he getting out of it?" asked Emma. "He should be as powerless here as Regina."

"I don't know. You'll have to ask him. He never strikes a deal that doesn't work to his advantage. But what I do know is the location of something that should pit him against the queen forever."

"And that would be?"

"Not until I get what I want," Jefferson quickly shot back.

"I can have you out of jail in no time, but that's only if you keep your head screwed on straight for the 24 hours of observation in that psych ward."

"Well, I don't have the best record with keeping my head," he remarked with a dark chuckle. "But I think I can manage for a day." There was a shrouded twinkle in his eye and for just a moment Emma thought she saw a glimmer of the devoted father and charming man the hatter used to be, before Regina had gotten her claws into him. "Besides, it wouldn't be the first time Regina has stuck me there when she's found me to be a nuisance. It was the only time I ever escaped that prison of a mansion. I know how to look sane when I want back out. No... it's not my freedom I want."

"You want your daughter's," replied Emma.

"You wake her up, you bring her back, and I'll hand you an offer that Rumple can't refuse."

Emma eyed him suspiciously. "You know the curse has to be broken for her to remember..."

"No! What I know that a certain former hunstman was wandering around town asking a lot of questions before he died. Just after he shared a kiss with a certain deputy. I know more than you could ever imagine, and if it gets my daughter back, Regina can have any of what I know."

Emma felt her face flush with outrage, an image of her knee landing against his jaw flashing in her head, but managed to exercise the impulse under control she had lacked as a teenager. "You may not be crazy, but you sure as hell have some serious problems. I hear Jiminy Cricket has a practice here in town." That didn't mean her tongue was any less sharp, than in her youth, though.

"You, of all people, should understand what it's like to have that witch keep your child from you - how you'd do anything to get them back!"

Emma cocked her head to one side, haughtily. "And you should know by now that I don't respond well to threats. You've watched me long enough..."

A low rumble of frustration sounded in Jefferson's throat. "You're right. I should... But I am a little mad, you know."

Emma forced her hackles down. "I can't just kidnap your daughter - not any more than I can my son."

"I'm not asking for that. Just... " He closed his eyes, as if about to step off a precipice. "Just wake her up. Her and the people she believes to be her parents." He opened his eyes again, the red-rimmed, bloodshot orbs pleading with her. "At first I thought it would be worse for her to know, but now... now I know that the only way I can ensure that we'll be together when the curse breaks is if she remembers."

Emma shook her head. "I wouldn't even know where to begin..."

"You'll figure it out. That's what saviours do."

"So I've been told," Emma grumbled. "Repeatedly."

"Go to my house, get the tea set. Maybe, if she uses it..." He bit his bottom lip, eyes glazed over. "She likes Henry. If he can get it to her... get her to use it... she's a smart girl. My girl." He eyes were lost now, as if he was starting to fall into some sort of mantra.

Emma leaned over and snapped her fingers in front of his eyes, bringing him back to reality. "I'll see what I can do," she said softly.

"See that you do, and I'll be in your debt." His eyes shone with a strange mix of desperation and earnestness.

"I don't make promises I can't keep. But if what I read in Henry's book is true, that still makes my intentions better than Regina's word."

Jefferson nodded. "More than you could ever know..."

"The question is, can I trust you if she offers you a quicker deal?"

"I can't guarantee it." He gazed up at her, and set his jaw in a determined manner. "But I'll see what I can do."

Before anything else could be said, Henry's voice echoed from the top of the stairs a few rooms over. "Hope you're ready to go, Emma!" She shook her head, smiling to herself, as she realized he was probably trying to make sure Regina didn't get the drop on them. Emma quickly snapped the disposable plastic cuffs on Jefferson's wrists, behind his back. She was doing the same at his ankles when Regina strode back into the kitchen, Henry on her heels.

"Bagged and tagged, Madam Mayor," announced Emma, standing up and wiping her hands on her dark wash jeans.

Regina quickly looked him up and down, the disdain evident on her face. "Excellent."

"I'll still need to question him fully. You see that he's still capable of that tomorrow, or else I'm releasing him from custody. And I will be able to tell if he's been... tampered with." She strode over to her son, and hoisted his small duffel bag over her shoulder. "Henry and I will be waiting outside until the ambulance arrives. You know, in case he makes a break for it."

Regina gave her a tight lipped smile. "I assure you, that won't be happening." She glanced at the bound and gagged man. "If he knows what's good for him." Jefferson narrowed his eyes, shooting daggers at Regina through slitted lids, but his shoulders quickly slumped back down in defeat as the woman simply locked her icy gaze with his.

Emma crossed her arms, watching this little battle of wills, and found herself wondering how the Mad Hatter and Snow White's evil stepmother had ever developed whatever kind of history they obviously had. And then, wondered at how she could already be taking a thought like that in stride. It was enough to give her a migraine, or at least, stretch her patience to a razor-thin margin. "Cmon, Henry," she said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Let's go. We've got pizza at home, and it looks like you didn't exactly get to finish dinner. Might be a little cold though."

"Do me a favor and don't spoil him too thoroughly tonight. A real mom doesn't get to be the good guy all the time," Regina called after them. Emma clenched her teeth together, determined to remain civil for Henry's sake, and bit back a retort as she closed the front door behind her.