"So where are you from?" Daniel smiled gently as he handed a piece of bread and a bit of cheese to his two guests. "Your clothing is nothing that I recognize. Is it a new modern fashion of some sort?"
"You could say that," Emma mumbled around her bite of bread before answering, "We're from a town called Storybrooke in a place that's," she winced as she looked at Henry, who was watching her closely, "pretty far away from here."
Daniel tilted his head in consideration of her answer. "A different land?"
"Yeah," the blonde nodded. "Like somewhere in the North."
"Oh, the North Country," he leaned back into his stack of hay and nodded. "I've heard it's a bit different there. I've never been, but I'd like to go one day." His eyes began to cloud over with a faraway look as he spoke. "I sometimes dream of living there on a small farm of my own where I could breed horses and teach my children how to ride." His smile was a touch sad.
"Your children?" Henry finally spoke up again. "Do you have kids?"
"Oh," Daniel's eyes refocused and he blushed. "No, no I don't have any children yet, but I hope to someday." He ducked his head slightly. "Of course, I'd have to be married first."
Emma grunted. "Of course." Clearing her throat and shifting a bit, she looked around the loft. It was dark but warm and held firmly against the wind they could hear howling outside. Her eyes wandered for a moment before falling to a small pair of leather gloves resting not far from them. Nodding toward them, she commented, "But you have a girlfriend."
Daniel's eyes grew wide as his head jerked around to find what she was nodding toward. "I… those belong to the daughter of the people who own this land. I give her riding lessons at least once a week. The last time she was here, she forgot to bring them back with her once her lesson was over. I'm keeping them until she returns tomorrow for her next lesson so she will have them."
"Right," Emma's tone said she didn't fully believe him.
"What's her name?" Henry's eyes narrowed, and he ignored his mother's warning look.
The stableboy's eyes brightened. "Regina."
"Is she nice?" Henry asked. He was reclined but tense, and, though his question sounded innocent, Emma knew he was looking for an answer to a question about the woman who raised him that neither would have ever been able to ask Regina directly.
"Oh yes," Daniel nodded enthusiastically. "She's a very gentle soul, very caring." He smiled, and his eyes shown with strong affection while he spoke. "I very much enjoy her presence when she's here. She treats me very well, as she does all the servants who live and work here."
A shadow of disbelief passed across the young boy's face. "Does she have any kids?"
"No!" Daniel was clearly offended at the very idea. "Of course not. Regina isn't married. She's the purest woman I have ever known. She would never," he stopped, coming to his senses before he could elaborate more and cause possible offense to the sensibilities of either the mother or child before him. He frowned, internalizing some comment that he clearly would like to have said but perhaps could not. "Though, I think Regina would make a wonderful mother. She has a large heart." He smiled again, but it was a touch melancholy. "I think any man who would be lucky enough to call her his wife would be blessed with a loving home full of happy children."
Both of his guests grunted. "Yeah," Emma drew the word out as she looked to her son, who only sat quietly with a look she couldn't decipher etched into his features. "I'm sure she's great."
"She is." Daniel stood, walking over to the wall to pull out blankets. "Perhaps you'll be able to meet her tomorrow? I think you would like her if you were to meet her."
"We'll think about it," Emma responded as she took the offered blankets and nudged Henry to follow her to a place in the hay to sleep.
As they settled in for the night, Henry whispered as quietly as he could to his mother, "I don't know if I can do this."
She replied just as quietly, "Neither do I."
David paced the small sheriff's office, avoiding the space occupied by a seated Gold and a standing Mother Superior. Leroy and Archie tried to avoid the deputy as best they could, stepping out of his path when he came closer to them. From behind the cell bars, Mary Margaret watched him and tried not to show her irritation with their current meeting.
"David," she said, her voice terse. "Go talk about this somewhere else. Call Ruby in here. Get her to watch me."
"We're not saying anything that could give us away," he answered with an air of irritation.
"I'm not saying anything at all," Gold threw in. "In fact, I don't know what I'm doing here. She's the one you need to talk to. I can't help you." He motioned with his cane toward the nun.
"I honestly don't know what to do." Mother Superior's face was full of tension. "I've never encountered nor heard of anything like this happening before."
"We should be trying to get Mary Margaret's heart back," Leroy growled. "Who knows how long it'll take before Regina decides to do something with it?"
"I think it might be wise to try to talk to Regina again without Mary Margaret present," Archie added. "She might be more receptive, and, if we had her assistance, we might be able to locate Emma and Henry faster."
"I'm not working with that witch," Leroy practically shouted. "We should take her out. That would fix a lot issues in this town."
"And get you no closer to knowing where Ms. Blanchard's heart his nor how to find your people," Gold cut in. Rolling his eyes, he pushed up from his seat. "I'm leaving."
"You can't just leave," David stopped pacing. "We need you here to help us figure out a plan. You know Regina the best, and you understand magic better than anyone in this town."
Gold shrugged. "I have nothing to offer you in this situation, and I've made a deal that prevents me from interfering. But, should you need my services for something else, you know where to find me." Giving a little wave of his hand, he turned and walked out of the station, leaving the rest on their own.
Leroy punched a nearby filing cabinet. "Crap."
"It's getting late." Mary Margaret's voice was tired. "Why don't we try to get some rest, and all of you can meet tomorrow somewhere that I'm not and work out a plan?"
"That might be best," Archie nodded. "We can meet at the diner tomorrow morning."
Agreeing, they dispersed leaving the husband and wife alone in the jail.
"David," her patience for her husband had returned. "Try to get some sleep."
"How can I sleep when my family is in trouble?" He sighed as he sat down in his chair.
"You'll find them, and you'll find my heart. I have faith." She gave him her best reassuring smile.
He groaned. "I hope you're right."
