Jefferson's eyes followed Emma through the diner's entrance and then up to the bar as he sat in his booth, toying with his tea cup. He watched with boredom as the waitress, named Ruby, initiated a monotonously familiar conversation about Snow White. Jefferson knew everything the two women would say to each other before they even knew it themselves. With a quick sip from his cup, Jefferson prepared himself to break up the monotony.

"So, what can I get for you?" the waitress asked Emma.

Jefferson took his cue.

"She'll have a coffee—two creams, two sugars—and one of those breakfast sandwiches with the eggs and the spinach."

Emma shot him a look from over her shoulder. She couldn't stop the puzzled expression that formed on her face, anymore than Jefferson could stop the way his lip curled at the mention of the spinach-egg-sandwich. Emma was unimpressed.

"Nice trick," she replied, "I bet you're all the rage at parties."

Jefferson rolled his eyes and took a long drink from his cup as she turned back to Ruby.

"He's right. That's what I was going to order."

The waitress gave Jefferson a curious look before nodding at Emma and walking away.

"You know," he baited her, "It's a shame about that spinach."

Emma looked back at him from over her shoulder as she opened her mouth to say something, but—

"Hey Emma? The cook said he had to throw the spinach out this morning. Is lettuce and tomato, okay?"

"Anything with vegetables is good," Jefferson answered as Emma gaped at him, "Mary Margaret's worried what the jail-time and all the takeout's going to do to her figure."

Emma's face was drawn with confusion and the waitress gave a small laugh.

"Well, that does sound like Mary Margaret," Ruby admitted, "Is that true, Emma?"

"Uh," she flustered as she turned back to the waitress, "Yeah...that's fine."

Ruby smiled, and then walked off again to tell the cook while Emma turned around to glare at Jefferson. The dark look in her eyes made him straighten in his seat as she crossed the distance between them.

"Who are you?" she spoke in a harsh voice as she stood over his booth, "Have you been spying on me?"

Jefferson gave a secretive laugh before schooling his amusement and meeting her gaze.

"My name's Jefferson," he replied, "And in 5 seconds, Leroy's going to come walking through that door raving about the coffee maker at the hospital."

"That's—"

"Four."

"How do you—"

"Three."

"Two."

"One."

The bell on the door jingled.

"That coffee maker is on the fritz again!" Leroy grumbled as he walked inside, "And who do they send on a coffee run? The janitor! That hospital doesn't pay me enough!"

Emma gave Jefferson an accusing look and crossed her arms over her chest.

"What did you do to their coffee maker?"

Jefferson sighed his irritation. "Your order's up."

"Emma!" Ruby called, "Food's ready!"

Emma turned away from him and walked up to the counter where Leroy was gathering-up coffees as fast as Granny made them. Jefferson watched Emma pay for her order before she walked across the diner towards him, carrying a brown paper bag and a cup of coffee. Emma fixed him with a bored look.

"What?" she questioned," Are you trying to convince me that your psychic or something?"

"Why?" Jefferson asked as he examined her, "Do you believe in psychics?"

Emma scoffed at that.

"No—"

"Good," he interrupted her, "Because I'm not psychic."

Jefferson stood up from his booth then, and Emma eyed him suspiciously, tilting her chin up to see him as he stood to his full height.

"If you're not psychic than what's your pitch?"

Jefferson smiled.

"Here. Let me get the door for you," he deflected, "You'll want to get that coffee to your friend before it turns cold."

Jefferson walked towards the door then and held it open for Emma as she followed behind him.

"Is this some elaborate town hoax?" she asked as she paused at the threshold, fixing him with a secretive smile, "Some joke on the sheriff to break the tension over the trial?"

Jefferson took a step towards her, invading her space in that too-close way of his, and then, he leaned-in as if to whisper. "No."

Emma made a face and walked passed him.

"Then what's your explanation for knowing everything that was going to happen in that diner?"

Jefferson followed her out, closing the door behind him.

"What does it matter?" he countered, "You wouldn't believe the explanation anyway."

Emma turned to glare at him as she opened her mouth to, no-doubt, tell him off.

"Look—" Jefferson said as he pointed a finger at a passing school bus, "After the bus, there will be a blue car, then Dr. Hopper walking his dog, and then, a red truck—which you will try to avoid."

Emma rolled her eyes at him, but then she saw the blue car as it passed by the diner and her head turned to watch it disappear down the street.

"Good morning, Emma!" Archie called to her as he walked by with his spotted dog.

Emma barely managed to raise her hand to wave before her eyes darted to the street, expecting the red truck. Sure enough, the red truck came into view, and as soon as Emma saw David behind the wheel, she hurried off to her little yellow bug.

"He's just as concerned about Mary Margaret as you are!" Jefferson assured her, but she was too busy getting inside her car to care.

With a frustrated sigh, Jefferson watched her drive away, fearing that maybe August was right. Maybe Emma wouldn't buy into his foresight. The thought made his insides churn, but he wasn't nearly finished trying. Jefferson got into his own car and drove to the sheriffs department.

After a few minutes of waiting outside the building, Jefferson finally heard the sound of Emma's approach.

"Going to see Mr. Gold?"

Emma about jumped out of her skin and she spun around to see him.

"You again!" she exclaimed, "What do you—?"

"You're going to ask for his help. Aren't you?"

Emma glared as she looked him from head to toe and then she moved towards him until she was close enough to touch.

"How could you know that?" she asked as she searched his eyes, "I only just thought of it."

"Here," Jefferson said as he dug a hand into his coat pocket to pull-out a folded piece of paper, "Take this with you. But don't read it until you've finished talking to Mr. Gold. It's a transcript of the conversation you'll have with him. If you read it first it may change the outcome."

Emma swallowed as she took the paper from his hand.

"How could you possibly know what we're going to say before we've said it?"

"Emma, please," Jefferson pleaded and he saw something change in her eyes, "Read it only after you've spoken to him."

Emma examined him for a moment. Her hazel-green eyes raked over his features like dragging a flea-comb through a cats fur, but Emma found nothing.

"Okay," her voice was quiet as she agreed, "But when I'm done, you're going to tell me what this is about—" Emma glanced at the unfamiliar car that was parked next to hers before looking back at Jefferson, "I assume you'll be following me there too?"

Jefferson smirked.

"Unless you'll allow me to drive you."

"Not a chance." she replied as she turned and walked towards her car.

Jefferson waited outside the pawnshop, leaning against the storefront as he named each car and person that passed by. When Emma walked out, her expression was blank and her bent arm appeared to be locked in place as it held the paper he had given her. He could recognize his own writing on the page from where she held it.

"White mini van." he said, absentmindedly.

Emma straightened as the van drove passed her and she turned her body to face him.

"How? How can you know all of this?" she asked with a tremble in her voice, "You knew what I would say to Gold...verbatim! How? It's impossible!"

Jefferson gave her a sympathetic smile.

"Emma, will you take a walk with me?"

Her eyes snapped-up to meet his and she stared at him for a moment as she considered it. Emma swallowed.

"Okay."

As they walked around town, Jefferson continued to point things out to her before they happened. Despite her persistent questioning, Jefferson refused to tell her how he was able to do it and it only seemed to make her more interested. They wound up sitting on the bench that was across from the school just as the kids were out for recess.

"Are you aware that the other kids sometimes pick-on Henry?"

Emma shot him a look and then glanced across the street towards the school.

"I—" Emma made a face and then nodded, "I figured that they might, but—"

"It's because of his storybook," Jefferson informed her, "He gets picked-on at school because of it. Regina put him in therapy because of it. And the one person he has the most faith in—you—doesn't believe in it either."

Emma scoffed at that.

"He thinks everyone in this town is a fairytale character! That's—"

"See," Jefferson said, "If you can't believe your own son, how could you believe me?"

Emma gave him a curious look.

"What?" she asked with an amused smile, "Are you saying that you're a fairytale character?"

Jefferson's jaw clenched at the way she said it.

"We'll come back to that question later," he replied as his eyes focused on something across the street, "But right now, a little boy's going to fall out of a tree and knock himself unconscious if you don't catch him."

Emma's mouth fell as she turned to look at him.

"How? His teachers shouldn't—"

"Go!" Jefferson shouted as he pointed a finger towards the school.

Emma turned to see the little boy, who was way-up a tree, just as he reached above his head to grab a flimsy looking limb.

"KID, DON'T!" she yelled as she ran across the street towards him.

With a crack, the limb broke under the boys weight and he fell just as Emma reached him with stretched-out arms. She let out a small grunt as the boy fell heavy against her. Soon, teachers and students were all surrounding Emma.

"That's the second time he's pulled this!" a gray-haired teacher informed her, "Last time, he spent two days in the hospital!"

Jefferson watched as Henry appeared in the crowd, looking elated over what Emma had done. For a brief moment, Jefferson caught sight of his own child, seeing her bright brown eyes as they curiously scanned the scene. He decided to leave the bench then. He didn't want thoughts of his daughter to confuse which curse he was trying to break. Jefferson walked off down the street then, giving Emma a little time to let the day's events sink in. Something about the suspense of "not knowing" seemed to make her more open, more accepting.

When early evening rolled around and the sun was beginning to set, Jefferson dropped by the apartment Emma shared with Mary Margaret. He knocked on the door twice and then waited.

"Jefferson!" she said in surprise as she opened the door.

"I need you to come with me to the station."

Emma's brow furrowed as she surveyed his face for seriousness, and then, without hesitation, she grabbed for her jacket.

"What's wrong?" she asked as she closed the door behind herself and followed him to his car.

"Mary Margaret is about to make a run for it."

"WHAT?! How?"

When they entered the sheriff's department, they nearly ran right into the escapee.

"Mary Margaret!" Emma gasped as a look of utter shock crossed her face, "How did you get out?"

The innocent inmate broke-down in the hallway. She dropped down to the floor, crying as a key rolled out of her hand. Jefferson turned away, trying to give her some privacy while Emma knelt down to comfort her. He understood the desperation behind her escape attempt. He could feel the hopelessness behind her tears. Part of him wanted to help this woman, but his goal was more important. He needed to get Emma to believe. Right on cue, Henry entered the sheriff's department to find the two women on the floor next to a familiar key. The boy pointed-out that it was just like Regina's skeleton keys, and then, understanding dawned on Emma's face. Gently, she helped her distressed friend back to her cell, leaving Jefferson alone with Henry. When Emma came back to face Jefferson, she found him sitting beside Henry as they glanced through the storybook.

"Okay," she said as she looked pointedly at Jefferson, "I'm ready for you to tell me. How do you know all of this?"

Jefferson gave her a cautious look.

"Back to the question of whether or not I'm a fairytale character?" Emma nodded. "It's true," he replied, "I've been cursed to keep reliving this same day. Regina cursed this town and now, as you know, she's trying to frame Mary Margaret."

Henry held up his book and pointed to the page that told of Regina's skeleton keys. Emma took the seat next to Henry and she reached for his book. She flipped through its pages, passing the story of the Mad Hatter. Henry's hand moved to mark the page.

"That's him, Emma," Henry said as he pointed to the illustrated version of Jefferson.

Emma made a face.

"The Mad Hatter?"

Jefferson's jaw reflexively clenched at the name.

"Do you believe?" He asked as he leaned forward, glancing past Henry to see her.

Emma swallowed as her fingers traced over the words on the page.

"So," she began as she looked up to meet his gaze, "Everything you know, you know it because you've been reliving it. But—for how long?"

Jefferson gave a humorless laugh. The sound was so devoid of levity it sounded completely desolate.

"I've lost count."

Emma looked away from him and turned her eyes to Henry.

"Do you know him?" she asked, "Have you talked to Jefferson before?"

The boy shook his head.

"I just met him right now. Do you believe him, Emma?"

She swallowed as she looked into her sons eyes and gave an uncertain shrug of her shoulders.

"I think I have to, kid. I mean—there's nothing else that can explain everything I've seen today."

Hope sprung Jefferson to his feet and a smile to his face.

"How about one more piece of proof?" he asked as he offered her his hand.

Emma took it without hesitation and he closed his fingers around hers as he pulled her to her feet.

"Come on," he called to Henry, "We're going to visit a friend."

"Who?" Emma asked with suspicion in her voice.

Jefferson smirked.

"Pinocchio."

As Jefferson parked his car in front of the bed and breakfast, he could see the wheels turning in Emma's mind. After all, there was only one guest staying there.

"August?!" Emma exclaimed, "August is Pinocchio?"

A corner of Jefferson's mouth tugged-up in amusement as he led them to a stop at August's door. He gave the door two knocks and was greeted with an infamous, "yeah".

August's eyes brightened when he got a look at his visitors.

"Emma. Henry. And—"

"Jefferson," Emma informed him before she shot Jefferson a look, "No one seems to know him, but he knows everybody."

Jefferson sighed.

"August, may we come in?"

August opened the door and ushered them in with a sweep of his arm.

"To what do I owe this unexpected visit?"

Jefferson waited until August closed the door, and then he took a step towards him, fixing him with a serious look.

"Show them your leg."

August tilted his head as his eyes raked over the faces of his guests. He gave a laugh of disbelief, "What?"

"Emma's starting to believe." Jefferson replied.

August furrowed his brow as an intrigued smile formed on his face.

"Really?" he asked as he stared at Emma.

Emma shrugged. "What's the deal with your leg?"

August rolled up his pants, revealing his half wooden appendage and Emma gasped.

"Cool!" Henry cheered.

"Actually buddy, it's not that cool," August replied with an apologetic face, "I'm kind of turning into wood, here."

Emma walked towards him and hesitantly reached out a hand to touch his leg. She felt the wood grain beneath her finger tips and then pulled back her hand like it had been burned.

"It's real!" she shrieked as she looked up at August with eyes as big as saucers, "You're Pinocchio."

Emma straightened and turned her back on him as she took in a deep, shaky breath. Henry crossed the room to his mother and threw his arms around her, pinning them to her sides.

"It's okay, Emma," the boy tried to sooth her, "Now that you believe, we can break the curse!"

Jefferson smiled to himself. That was all he needed to hear. He clasped a hand on August's shoulder as they shared in the mutual pride that came from getting Emma to believe—nevermind that August had no idea who he was. He whispered to August then, asking if he would see Emma and Henry home in his stead. Jefferson couldn't wait to leave. August nodded and Jefferson said his thanks as he opened the door.

"Wait!" Henry called after him and he froze, "Thanks, Jefferson, for your help. I hope it was enough to break your curse."

Jefferson turned and gave the boy a small smile before he left the room. There was no quicker way to find out than by going to sleep and Jefferson felt as if he were carrying the weariness on the world. When he finally reached his home, he went straight to his bed. He crashed on the mattress like a ton of bricks and relished in the softness of the covers beneath his face. A contended smile curved-up his mouth.

"Emma believes."

Anything's possible. With the anticipation that the morning would bring a new day, Jefferson fell fast asleep. If he would dream that night, he was sure it would be of Grace—to see her free from the loop he was stuck in and going about her day on a path he couldn't predict. Then, and only then, could he be one day closer to breaking the curse that really mattered; The curse of being separated from his daughter.

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A/N: 4 more chapters to go. ;)

Thanks for reading!