"Emma, I'm sorry but you don't have a case for custody."

"Even after everything she has done?" The blonde had cornered Archie at Granny's where he normally had his afternoon cup of coffee. She had gone straight there after methodically showering and dressing; doing her makeup and hair with more precision than she normally would for an ordinary day. But the day didn't really feel ordinary. She couldn't explain it but she felt something brewing.

"Which you can't prove." Dr. Hopper pointed out unhelpfully. "Let me ask you a question. With this war raging on, who is really getting hurt here?"

A war she didn't ask for. "I know. Henry. But isn't it a good thing he is spending time with me? I'm his mother."

"Yes you are. And so is Regina." He then more hesitantly added, "And look, the court is going to come in and see how he's been since you've come into his life."

"And he's been happier, right?" Her voice tripped up an octave.

"Maybe. I mean objectively? He's skipped school, stolen a credit card, he's run off, and he's endangered himself repeatedly. And so in the eyes of the law it's not so-"

Emma closed her eyes against his words in dismay. He was acting like she had when she was a child. She cut him off to ask. "What about in your eyes? What do you think?"

"A while ago I told you to engage him in his fantasy life and- and perhaps I was wrong because he's only retreated further into it."

"You think he's better off with her?" Something inside her fractured a little more.

"I never said that." His vague therapist statements were getting on her nerves.

"Do you think that she would ever hurt him?" It was a question she already knew the answer to but she needed to hear him say it.

"No. Never. I mean everyone else but not him. Look, right or wrong, all of her actions have been defensive. I'm not judging but in many ways your arrival has woken a sleeping dragon."

In her mind she separated the malicious, vindictive mayor and her actions from the woman she'd gotten to know as they indulged in pleasure that faded to midnight conversations. Her anger receded and all she felt was longing. "Tell me honestly, has he been better of since I got here?"

"Oh, it's not a matter of better off. It's a matter of this war has to end if you two are going to be in his life. You have to figure out the best way to do that."

Emma braced herself for what she had to do.

/

All her life Emma had been on the run, running from her past, running from the law, running with Neil, running from herself. So when a 10-year-old boy showed up at her doorstep and dragged her to a sleepy little town in Maine, she had been ready to head for the hills. Staying was supposed to be temporary until she was sure that Henry truly was all right. It was fair to say she had always loved him in an abstract way, giving him up to a better home she felt was a testament to that love. Over the last few months however Emma had absolutely fallen in love with him. With his easy smile and huge imagination and brave, kind heart, the blonde found she could not give him up again.

When she strolled up the walkway to the immaculate Mills residence it was with a rebelling heart, thudding angrily in her chest to not follow through with her decision. After much deliberation she came to the only conclusion she could, to leave Storybrooke. For as much as she had fallen for Henry, she had equally fallen for his mother. The gorgeous and contrary mayor of the town had taken her heart and not given it back. While Emma had avoided thinking about her source of pain for as long as she could she finally admitted to herself that this hurt wasn't over a silly little crush that had rejected her. She was unequivocally in love with Regina.

The heartache that blossomed from her refusal had Emma spiraling in anger, causing her act rashly and dangerously like a wounded and wild animal. It needed to stop. Emma needed space and time to heal in order to be rational otherwise she would continue to ruin the people and things around her. It wouldn't be goodbye forever, she reminded herself. She vowed that she would keep Henry in her life and shockingly as she conversed the terms with Regina, she had sincerely agreed.

The brunette had an odd calmness to her like she knew something Emma did not. She couldn't trust her judgment in regards to her son's mother anymore though and filed it away. All of her focus was driven into moving forward as Regina escorted her to the front door.

"Where will you go? Back to Boston?" She was about to answer affirmatively to Regina's question when the women were interrupted by the shrill voice of a child.

"You're leaving?" Henry stood in the foyer still saddled with her backpack from school; his eyes wide with alarm, mouth turned down in a disapproving frown that eerily resembled Regina's.

Emma took a few halting steps toward him. "Henry. I was going to call you later to tell you… But I have to go."

"Leave Storybrooke?" He asked incredulously.

"Yeah, but I spoke to Regina and we made a deal. I'm still going to be able to see you just not every day." The words were bitter in her mouth. A generic line she had heard from apathetic voices of the other children's biological parents, said around a cigarette and with one foot out the door. This was not a false promise though.

"No." He said forcefully, not caring that his mother practically stood just over her shoulder. "No you can't trust her."

"I have to. It's my only choice. It's what's best for you Henry. Every time I fight her." Emma looked back at Regina who was standing stoically behind them, strangely silent, with her arms crossed tight over her middle. "Every time we fight, someone else gets hurt… I'm tired of getting hurt."

"No, no, no!" He shook his head. "You're just scared. It happens to all heroes, it's just the low moment before you fight back."

"Henry! This isn't a story." Her voice cracked with admonishment and sorrow as she fought back tears. She needed him to see that his belief was becoming a serious delusion. She knelt to his height, taking his small hand and pleading. "This is reality and things have to change. You can't skip school. You can't talk about your mom like this. You can't run away and you can't believe in curses."

The last of her requests struck him hard. With disappointed dawning, he asked, "You really don't believe?"

"I-" Emma could not bring herself to confirm his worst fear. Instead telling him gently with a tear drop threatening to roll down her cheek, "This is how is has to be right now. I made a deal and I used my super power. She's telling the truth. She's going to take really good care of you."

"Yes, but she wants you dead." He said petulantly.

"Come on Henry!" She rose to her full height, wiping at her face in frustration. "What did I just say?"

Henry stubbornly continued. "You're the only one that can stop her."

"Stop her from what? All she's ever done is fight for you." The truth of her statement gave him pause, a spotlight suddenly shown on the fact that he refused to acknowledge. His mother, for better or worse, truly wanted him, loved him. Emma sighed heavily. "This just got out of hand. I'm sorry."

His brown eyes shone up into hers imploringly but she could only give him an apologetic shrug. Out of arguments she could see his determination receding, then he flung himself at her, wrapping around her torso with a painful ferocity. Her breathing hitched. Emma wrapped her arms around him in return, just at tight, relishing in his unending warmth, drawing in his light scent of soap and cedar. She tired to remember everything about his embrace, not knowing when she would next be able to see him.

"What is that?" Henry was pulling away as he noticed her plastic take away box.

"Regina gave it to me." She held it up so he could better see the still cooling turnover.

He sniffed the warm spiced air suspiciously. "Apple!"

"So?"

"You can't eat that. It's poison!" He exclaimed.

"Don't be ridiculous Henry." Her patience wore thin. "It's not poisoned."

"I'll prove it to you." He reached for the container but Emma twisted it out of his grasp.

"No, I'll prove it to you." She pried the lid up and the smell of fresh baked apples and cinnamon grew stronger. Emma's mouth watered as an overwhelming hunger took hold. It looked so good she had to take a bite.

"Don't!" Henry made another grab for it but she was quicker, holding it above her head and out of his reach. He made a few pitiful jumps for it, his zippers jingling like warning bells with every small leap. Emma scarcely noticed, her eyes fixated on the pastry warm in her hand. Holding off the struggling boy with one arm, she brought the apple turnover nearly to her lips. Henry's cries for her to 'stop' and 'please don't do it' fell on deaf ears. One bite, that was all she wanted…

"No!" Regina's voice erupted through her conscious. She sounded different than Emma had ever heard her; strangled with panic and terror as if the single word crawled desperately from her throat. Emma and Henry froze and stared in wonder at the other woman.

Regina, who had faded into the background of their conversation, interjected herself with sudden vehemence as she came at them. She seized the contested baked good and turned away immediately, her heels clipping at a manic pace across the hardwood floor. The stunned pair watched her disappearing for a moment before hurrying after her bewildered. They stopped in the doorway of the mayor's home office in time to see Regina throw the turnover into a smoldering fire. The hot coals licked flames over the golden crust, releasing the smell of sweet apples, then the acrid smell of char and smoke took over. It sizzled and popped as the fire consumed it greedily. The brunette stood with her hands gripping the mantle and shoulders lifting with every drawn breath, staring at the dying yellow flames.

The trio remained unmoving like time stood still. Emma could not comprehend what was unfolding in front of her. The answer seemed plainly in front of her face but her brain stayed empty, only filled with a numbing white noise. Henry stepped forward apprehensively, "Mom?"

As he uttered her title, she spun and looked at them. Disquieting, unshed tears sat glassily over her eyes and her painted red lips quivered, almost unperceivable. Regina strode the short distance to stand in front of her son. She cleared her throat but her voice still came out groveled with emotion. "Henry. The book, please."

"No…" But he lacked the conviction from moments earlier, clearly thrown by his mother's subdued demeanor.

"I'm done fighting Henry. Please give me the book."

Henry slowly lowered his oddly square backpack to the ground and produced the old, large tome of fairytales that her carried around with such devotion. He passed it to her with a somber expression like they were performing an ancient ceremony. She tucked it under her arm and gave him a wavering smile but she couldn't maintain it. She leaned down, fondly brushing the fringe that always lay haphazardly on his forehead into a neat section. She told him with earnest sincerity the struck Emma in the heart, "No matter what you think, no matter what anyone tells you, I do love you."

He gazed at her like a confused puppy trying to figure out her real meaning, what trick up her sleeve this would lead to next. But if the boy had a fraction of Emma's intuition for the truth, he would easy see that Regina had ulterior motives, no manipulation in the declaration. She was just a mother who loved her son. Regina straightened up and ordered, "Go wait outside by the gate."

"But-"

"Henry, please. Just do as your told." Her normally authoritative tone came out flat and tired. "Go wait outside. You'll understand everything shortly."

Henry shuffled out of the room with no further objection. He nervously tried to catch Emma's eye as he passed but her sight was riveted on Regina. The brunette kept eye contact with her; dark irises were pools of unhappiness that Emma sunk into. They stood and listened at Henry's footsteps receded, an unspoken agreement to wait for the boy to be out of hearing range. Emma finally heard the click of the front door shutting, and then took a few tentative steps forward. She broke the silence, her voice quavering, "What the hell is going on Regina?"

"Henry… Henry is right."

"Right about what?" Fear crept into her like cold fingers trailing up her spine.

"The turnover it's-" She stopped short unable to complete the sentence but Emma easily inferred.

"You poisoned the-" Then her mind went blank with white, hot rage. Emma charged the other woman, shoving her roughly against the wall. Picture frames rattled on the wall with the force, one slipping off its nail and clattering harshly to the ground, the delicate tinkling sound of glass breaking punctuated its fall. Regina didn't protest the abuse. She let Emma pin her in place, her forearm braced across her chest and her hand gripped the collar of her shirt, crumpling the fine white fabric. In the midst of her anger, Emma felt something like relief flood her body at having Regina in such close proximity. After all of the time spent banished from the mayor, the younger woman still craved her, like a person needing an oasis in the desert. She tamped down the feeling, refocusing on the spitting anger, and growled. "Henry could have eaten that!"

"I wouldn't have let him." Regina shook her head vigorously, horrified at the notion.

"But you would have let me?" Emma asked blind to the fact Regina had actually stopped her from consuming the dessert. "What is in it? Arsenic? Draino?"

"No." Regina shifted uncomfortably underneath her. "It isn't poison… It's cursed."

"What?" She jerked away. The released woman stumbled slightly without the pressure of Emma bearing down on her.

Regina touched the collar of her shirt to straighten it and ran her fingers through her hair. After taking the moment to compose herself she explained with no trace of deceit. "The apple I made it with. It's a magic apple with a sleeping curse."

The blond blinked, suddenly her pulse thudded loudly in her ears. "Don't- stop messing around Regina."

"I'm not. I'm sorry but I'm not. Henry is right about everything." She stepped toward her but Emma matched her with a wary step backwards. Taking the fairy tales that had still been wedged awkwardly under her arm, she clasped it in both hands looking disdainfully at the volume. "All the stories in here are true for the most part. They are over-simplified and trite but based off of real people, things that really happened."

"You can't be serious." The denial bubbled up helplessly inside her.

Regina confessed with absolute resolution. "I'm the Evil Queen. I cast the curse that brought everyone here to Storybrooke."

"Regina stop-" Her protests were becoming weaker.

"And you. You are…" The other woman looked at her mournfully, brow wrinkled with sorrow and lips twisted with anguish, a perfect portrait of pain. Holding out the book as if it were the rest of her unfinished sentence she said, "Take it."

Gradually Emma's hands ventured to the book, sliding over the dusty leather covering, her fingers curling around the worn edges. As she accepted the full weight of it, visions like rapidly passing dreams flashed before her eyes; hazy images of a woman who looked like Mary Margret with long flowing lock whispering to a newborn baby, David dressed ridiculously as a knight and brandishing a sword, the baby crying in an elaborately carved wardrobe and someone softly calling out 'find us.' Emma dropped the book; it's pages rustling indignantly at the improper treatment before thumping soundly to the Persian rug below. She pointed accusingly at the stagnant object as if it were a live vicious thing about to attack. "What was that?"

"You're remembering. You see it's true." Regina said quietly.

It was all happening too fast. Minutes ago she had been waving her flag of surrender, ready to hightail it out of town and now… The present became too abstract. Like she was looking at a splatter painting and trying to figure out which way was right side up. They only thing that anchored her was Regina standing before, elegant and beautiful as ever even with the inexplicable heartbreak marring her features. Emma stuttered. "I don't- I don't understand. What am I supposed to do?"

"Go with Henry. Figure out how to break the curse. I won't fight you anymore." She vowed.

"Why?" Emma's green eyes pleaded for clarity. "Why now?"

"I- I just want you to be happy." Regina professed, her words hitching with the force of her feelings.

There seemed a paragraph of silence as they regarded each other, Emma taking in her statement. She felt as though the air swirled around them, creating a cyclone that urged them together. The sensation was not at all unfamiliar as she constantly resisted being pulled to Regina. But here she had never felt it so acutely, like trying to hold her breath for too long, all her cells screaming for her take in another breath of desperately needed air, they now screamed for her to fall into the other woman, for them to fall into each other.

Regina ended the standoff, cautiously approaching the blonde. Emma didn't retreat this time, instead advancing as well, the two women drawing nearer and nearer to each other until they were practically touching. Regina raised her hand, bringing it to caress Emma's cheek then sliding back so her fingers rested against the back of her neck, gently hooking into her skin. Her face inched closer. The thundering sound of Emma's palpitating heart faded and her breathing steadied to a calm rhythm as she watched the emotions ripple through the captivating dark eyes, at the center sadness and expanding wider came a little fear, then adoration and desire. She was mesmerized. Regina tightened her grip, as if Emma would slip away, whispering earnestly, "Please just go be happy."

Then finally rose petal lips descended to hers in a perfect, tender kiss. The stormy apprehension that had plagued them dissipated, replaced with the feathery feeling of relief and elation. Emma pressed her lips more firmly into the kiss her hand coming up to comb through short, silky locks of hair. Suddenly an odd, visceral sensation, like a seismic force seemed to emit from wherever the two women touched. If Emma's eyes hadn't slipped shut she would have seen a bright ring of spectral light push out of their embrace, forcing itself outward, ever expanding to graze over all of Storybrooke. The blonde pulled back startled slightly, "What was that?"

Regina looked astonished, "The spell. I think it's broken."

"How?" Emma asked surprised now herself.

"Our kiss…" Regina drew out the words pensively.

Both women paused to consider the implications of this. But as if they agreed simultaneously, the women abandoned any form of concrete thought to bring their lips joyfully back together. Like a damn that broke, they kissed with a flood of stored up passion and longing that had been building behind a wall of stubbornness for months. Ruby red lipstick smeared against soft pink lips like they were claiming the territory with vibrant dashes of color. Regina brought her other hand up to mirror the hold of the other, cradling her head with lavish affection; while the blonde wrapped an arm around her waist to bring their bodies flush together eliciting relieved moans from both. Emma flicked her tongue out, first tasting the saccharine waxy flavor of Regina's lipstick followed by the headier sweetness of her tongue like the spices in mulled wine and an October afternoon.

Regina met her tongue with her own, enthusiastically dipping in to taste her then skirting away teasingly then again and again. Emma smirked slightly into the kiss that was exactly as she imagined and then so much more. Regina gently sucked her lower lip, calling her back to pay attention. Emma recommitted to the ardent kiss, losing herself to the undulating motions that both soothed and sent pleasure blazing through her.

/

Unbeknownst to the two women wrapped up in their heated embrace, miles away, a man with an impish grin and impeding limp climbed diligently up an overgrown path to a nearly forgotten wishing well.

His plan had been waiting patiently on a shelf, posing among a myriad of useless bauble as an over-priced decorative egg that no one had spared a glance at except maybe to note it's gaudy, ridiculous appearance, which was exactly what he had intended.

Now that the curse was broken, Mr. Gold finally could unleash the secret within the vessel. He tipped the egg carelessly into the well, a satisfying splash ending its descent. For a moment nothing happened, and then his grin deepened to maniacal and purple smoke began to plume from the small abyss of the well.

Magic was coming to Storybrooke.