A/N – things I own:

My house, albeit with a large mortgage

My cat – actually, who am I kidding, no-one owns a cat

So, to clarify:

I do not own my house, the bank does.

I do not own my cat, he deigns to grace me with his presence every now and then to get fed and have his ears scratched.

I certainly do not own Once Upon a Time or any of its characters (sigh).

I'm such a loser…

Ruby and Belle jogged through the town, water bottles in hand, and made their way out along one of the dirt tracks that criss-crossed the woods around Storybrooke.

"We'll go out for half an hour and then head back," suggested Ruby, and Belle nodded her agreement. Ruby picked up the pace and little was said, for which Belle was grateful. She was enjoying the feel of the wind in her face, losing herself in the rhythm of her pumping legs, the steady padding of her feet against the soft earth. It had been a while since she had been running, and she had missed it. She had frequently joined Ruby for a run before being shot, but after that she had been in the hospital, and as Lacey she had spent every morning too hung over to even contemplate it. She had always been discouraged from running in the Enchanted Forest; ever since she had reached the age of twelve she had been admonished for moving at a pace quicker than a stately walk. This world certainly had a lot to recommend itself, in its freedom for women to run as fast as they pleased and in the clothes that allowed them to do so in comfort. When Ruby abruptly changed direction after twenty minutes or so and started heading west, Belle followed. A fine drizzle was falling, soaking them through, and Belle welcomed the coolness of the water against her flushed cheeks. After a while Ruby led them out of the forest onto one of the roads leading to the town, and the two women paused for breath, Belle bending over and pushing her hands against her thighs as she gulped for air. She felt a little out of shape compared to her friend, but was confident that she could soon remedy that.

"Let's head back," said Ruby, taking a gulp of her water. "I vote hot chocolates and bear claws at Granny's."

"Sounds good," agreed Belle, and straightened up, settling into a loping stride as she followed her friend back to the town.

They had been running for perhaps five minutes when they saw someone ahead of them, stumbling along the road. Squinting through the rain, which had ceased to be drizzle and was now a full-blown downpour, Belle could see the orange vest and camouflage pants of a hunter. She exchanged a curious look with Ruby, and the two slowed to a halt.

"Hey!" called Ruby, and the man turned to face them. He was young, in his late twenties or early thirties, and thin, with dark hair and black-rimmed glasses making him look a little nerdy. He didn't appear to be carrying anything, and Belle raked her eyes over him curiously. Surely if he was on a hunting trip he would have guns, supplies? For Alex's part, he was shocked to find himself facing two of the most beautiful women he had ever seen, slender and long-limbed, their dark hair framing pale faces, wide-eyed and full-lipped. His first, irrational thought was that they were sirens, or some other hideous magical beings, but he reasoned that sirens probably wouldn't be wearing sweat pants and trainers.

"Oh, thank God!" he said desperately. "I was starting to think this road didn't lead anywhere. Is there a town nearby?"

Belle and Ruby gave him identical, suspicious frowns.

"What are you doing here?" asked Belle, bluntly, and he looked around himself somewhat wildly.

"I – I'm lost," he stammered. "I came out on a hunting trip, and my truck broke down where I was camping, and – and I just started walking until I found this road. I have no idea how long I've been walking." He let out a short, nervous laugh. "Can you help me? I just need to get to a phone." He didn't have to fake the shiver that ran through him.

Ruby's face softened slightly, and she exchanged a brief look with Belle before nodding. "Sure, we can get you to a phone," she agreed. "The town's this way. I'm Ruby, and this is Belle."

Belle nodded cautiously. The man pushed his glasses up on his nose, smiling a little tremulously.

"I'm Alex," he offered. "Alex Talbot."

It took Emma and the others most of the night to find their way back to the campsite, and by the time they reached it Greg and Tamara were finding it hard to put one foot in front of the other. Emma herself was biting back yawns as she heard the pull of the waves and realised that they were almost there. Sure enough, she saw the faint glow of a camp fire through the trees, and stumbled along behind Gold until they reached the clearing. Mary Margaret immediately jumped up with a cry of relief and threw her arms around her daughter.

"We got your message," she said a little breathlessly, looking curiously at the bound prisoners. "Where's Henry?"

"That is very much the question of the day," said Gold dryly. He gestured with his cane as Regina removed the spell preventing Greg and Tamara from talking. "We need to get these two back to the ship and secure them, so that we can find the information that we need, regroup, and find him."

David and Hook had woken, and scrambled to their feet, yawning.

"I feel my services are once again required," observed Hook. He gave Greg and Tamara a bow, a sardonic smile on his face. "We meet again. Sorry to disappoint you with my actions, but alliances have always been something – fluid, in my opinion."

Tamara glared at him. "I suppose we couldn't expect anything better from such a coward," she spat, and Hook's face darkened.

"Come on," Emma took his arm, pulling him away. "Let's get back to the ship, okay?"

He grumbled something, but allowed himself to be turned around and led towards the beach. David and Mary Margaret took over the prisoners' bonds, and Regina followed on wearily, clutching the magic Mirror. Gold kicked dirt over the fire to extinguish it, frowning at the ash smearing his boots. He straightened up, looked around the clearing, and smiled briefly.

"You can come out now, little one," he said calmly, and grinned as a nearby bush quivered. A small, slight figure, dressed in animal skins and topped with a shock of black hair, rose up.

"How did you know I was there?" she demanded, scowling at him. He shrugged.

"Call it intuition," he offered. "Why were you following us?"

She fidgeted. "I saw you take them," she said, pointing towards the beach. "I didn't like them either. They had a boy with them, but I could tell he didn't want to be there. I distracted them and he got away."

Gold frowned. "You saw Henry?"

She put her head to the side, her gaze calculating. "Why are you looking for him?"

"He's my grandson," he said simply, and she nodded.

"I don't know where he went," she said reluctantly. "But if you like I could try and find him for you. I know these islands like the back of my hand. I can be your guide." Her eyes had narrowed somewhat, and he chuckled.

"What's your price?" he asked, amused, and she grinned, showing very white, even teeth.

"Food, shelter, protection, and your promise that you'll help me find someone," she announced. Gold looked her over, pretending to consider.

"I think that can be arranged," he agreed, and put out his hand. "We have a deal."

Her small, brown hand gripped his with surprising strength.

"What's your name?" she asked, and he dropped her hand.

"My name is Mr Gold," he said softly. "And yours?"

She hesitated momentarily. "Lily," she said eventually, and he nodded. She was holding something back, he could tell, but he wasn't going to push it.

"Well, Lily, if you would care to accompany me, I shall introduce you to the rest of Henry's family," he gestured towards the beach, and she darted away in front of him.

"Who's this?" asked Mary Margaret curiously, as Gold followed the young girl down to the beach. She stiffened as seven pairs of eyes looked her over, then raised her small chin defiantly.

"This is Lily," explained Gold. "She created the distraction that allowed Henry to escape our prisoners. She has graciously agreed to act as our guide here in Neverland, in exchange for food, protection and our assistance in finding someone."

Mary Margaret immediately sent the girl a warm smile, and beckoned her closer. Introductions were hurriedly made.

"Is she one of the – Lost?" asked Emma, and Lily pulled a face. Hook snorted.

"All the Lost Ones are boys," he said. "She's a redskin."

Emma and Mary Margaret looked as though their eyes were about to start from their heads.

"You can't say that!" choked Mary Margaret. Hook eyed her curiously.

"Why not?" he asked, nonplussed.

"We don't use that term back home," said Emma, as though she was trying to explain two plus two equals four to a particularly stupid child. "We call them Native Americans."

"But she isn't a Native American," Hook pointed out, gesturing around them and looking genuinely confused. "This is Neverland. She's a redskin. That's what the natives here are called."

"Actually, that's what the Lost Ones and men like you call us, pirate," said Lily stiffly, somehow managing to look down her nose at him despite coming no higher than his chest. "Our true name is the People."

Hook swept a mocking bow. "My apologies, Your Highness, O Most Noble of the People," he taunted, with a glint in his dark eyes. "Just promise me that if I let you on my ship you won't steal anything that's not nailed down."

She gave him a lofty nod. "It would be the height of rudeness when we have a deal."

"Actually, you made the deal with me," said Gold, and jerked his head towards Hook. "Steal anything of his that takes your fancy."

Hook's splutter of outrage was covered by David and Emma pushing the rowing boat into the shallow waters off shore and yelling at everyone to take their places.

Ruby pushed open the door of Granny's diner, grinning to a few of the patrons. Alex hovered on the doorstep and Belle gave him a gentle shove, making him stumble through the entrance. The chatter in the diner faded and died as everyone turned and looked at the stranger. Belle groaned inwardly. Trying to convince someone he was in a normal town was not helped by what could have been a scene from a western. All it needed was a tumbleweed blowing across the room.

"Hi," said Alex nervously, pushing at his glasses again.

"This is Alex," announced Ruby. Leroy and Anton were sitting at the bar, staring at Alex as though he had two heads. She grasped his shoulder, making him jump. "C'mon, the phone's through here." He followed her obediently, and Belle closed her eyes as the scrape of chairs filled the room, the diner's occupants getting to their feet and surrounding her.

"Who the hell is he?" hissed Leroy, his eyes furious. "I thought the spell worked!"

"It did!" she hissed back, frowning. "But if he was already inside the town limits when it hit, it wouldn't affect him, would it!"

"So, what do we do?" asked Tom, pausing to sneeze loudly. Belle sighed.

"He says he just wants to phone for help," she said. "Sooner he does that, sooner he's out of here."

"Assuming the phones work," said Leroy moodily. "And even if they do, how's he gonna get a ride when the town doesn't appear on any maps!"

Belle bit her lip. This was going to be more complicated than they had thought.

"Look, sit down, all of you," she whispered. "We don't need him thinking we're any weirder than he does already. We'll figure something out." It sounded pretty feeble as a plan to her, but to her surprise the townsfolk settled back into their chairs, grumbling slightly. Belle looked up as Ruby led Alex back into the room. The other diners averted their eyes, pretending an interest in their food and newspapers but all the time shooting surreptitious glances at the stranger when he was looking the other way.

"Since the phones aren't working and there's no signal for my cell," the dark-haired woman was saying brightly. "You can stay here tonight. Granny has plenty of empty rooms. I'm sure it was just that electrical storm earlier. We'll be back in contact with the rest of the world soon enough."

"I – I guess," he said uncertainly. Ruby pulled him towards the door.

"Come on, I'll show you to a room, and you can get settled in," she said kindly, shooting an alarmed look at Belle once he was out of her line of sight. Belle sighed and raised her eyes to the ceiling in the hope that she'd find inspiration there.

Dawn was breaking as Hook began rowing, a faint pink light spreading across the surface of the ocean and bathing everything with its warm glow. Once they were back at the ship, Greg and Tamara were locked in one of the rooms on the lower deck, still bound with the ropes Regina had conjured. The others clustered in the captain's quarters, and Mary Margaret arranged fruit, dried meat and biscuits on a tin plate and set it before Lily, who set to with a will. Regina placed the Mirror on the table.

"I guess we try again," she suggested, and Emma nodded, rolling up her sleeve. Regina shook her head. "My turn," she said insistently, and put out her hand for a knife. Mary Margaret handed over one of her own, and Regina sliced her palm open with a hiss, allowing the blood to trickle onto the Mirror's surface before healing herself. Gold waved his hand so that the Mirror swept up into the air and hung before them. Lily chewed as she watched with interest, seemingly unfazed by the magic being wielded.

"Show me Henry," said Regina loudly. The surface of the Mirror swirled in colours just as before, but this time no image formed. She shared a brief, worried glance with Gold. "Show me Henry!" Regina's voice was a little panicked. Nothing.

Gold frowned, and Emma gasped, clutching at Mary Margaret. If Henry could not be seen, did it mean that he was no longer…?

"What's happened?" she asked desperately. "Is he dead? Gold!"

He held up a placating hand. "It's a magical barrier," he said grimly. "He's been taken. That's why the spells wouldn't work. They know we're here. They know we have the Mirror. They've shielded themselves, somehow."

"Fairies," said Lily knowledgeably, her voice somewhat muffled through a mouthful of apple. Gold scowled. Regina let out a noise almost like a growl, and snatched the Mirror from the air, carrying it to the far side of the room and laying it on the floor beneath a bench.

"Bring the globe," he said curtly, and Emma rushed up to the deck of the ship, returning in a few minutes with the globe held in front of her.

"Let me," she almost snapped, as Gold lifted his finger towards the spike at the top. He nodded assent, and she pricked the pad of her forefinger on the globe, letting a drop of blood fall onto its surface. Magic flowed in crimson swirls, but no map formed and after a minute or so the red mist dissipated. Emma hung her head in frustration, her long hair brushing the table. Regina touched her shoulder tentatively, squeezing with her fingertips.

"So what happens now?" asked David, grimly. Gold sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose tiredly.

"We do things the old-fashioned way," he said wryly, and cocked his head at Lily. "It seems we'll soon be in need of your services, little one."

She shrugged, pushing a few crumbs around her empty plate. "Don't think much of your supper."

His eyebrows twitched. "Why, what was wrong with it?"

"Weren't big enough."

Gold chuckled. "Miss Blanchard, would you please give our guest some more?"

As Mary Margaret brought out more food, the others pulled chairs up to the table and began eating. Hook opened a bottle of wine, frowning at Lily when she held up a wooden mug and giving her water instead. There was silence for a while as they all ate and drank, lost in their own thoughts.

"Greg and Tamara weren't wandering aimlessly," said David, crunching into an apple. "They had a plan. They were taking him somewhere. Could that be where he is now?"

"Could be," agreed Gold. "We should question them. Perhaps a night of hunger and cold will make them more amenable."

Mary Margaret looked displeased, but nodded her agreement. "As long as we don't use more extreme methods," she muttered, and David and Emma nodded. Gold sighed.

"This way will be far less effective than some I could use, I can assure you," he said flatly. "But I had a feeling that would be your opinion on the matter."

"I don't want to have to torture people to get my son back," said Emma, and he shrugged, as though it made no difference to him.

"I suggest we get some rest while we can," said David. "We can question them in the morning."

"I don't know where the Lost Ones make their camp," admitted Hook, rolling his wineglass back and forth between his fingertips. "But I do know which side of the island they're usually found. I could sail the ship there. It's a start."

David nodded gratefully. Mary Margaret tapped Lily on the shoulder and drew her from the room, telling her that she would find a place for her to sleep. Five minutes later she was back, sliding into the chair next to David's.

"We'll get some answers tomorrow," David assured her, taking a bite of biscuit and wincing at the texture. Gold and Regina shared glances.

"You won't get anything out of them," said Regina scornfully, her dark eyes disdainful and her full lips curled into a sneer. She folded her arms, red-lacquered fingernails tapping against her elbow. "You've seen what they're like. They're zealots. They won't tell you anything; they'd far rather die as what they deem to be martyrs."

Gold sat forward, elbows on the table and fingers laced together, his gaze intense. "I have to agree with Regina," he said quietly. "If you think you can get them to talk by locking them up for a couple of days, you're sorely mistaken."

David threw down the remains of his biscuit and leant on the table. "Look," he said. "I know they've hurt you – both of you – and I'm sorry." His face was earnest, steadfast, and Gold knew with certainty that he would not change his position. "But I won't get my grandson back by turning to darkness. I will get the information from them. It just might take a little longer than we thought."

"As much as I hate to admit it," drawled Hook. "The crocodile has a point. Why would they tell you anything?" He was lounging in his chair, arms behind his head and feet up on the table. "Tell you what." His voice was suddenly playful. "If you can get them to talk, I'll snog Rumplestiltskin." His eyebrows twitched. "Tongues and all."

"You most assuredly will not!" snarled Gold, eyes flashing darkly. Hook grinned.

Mary Margaret put her head in her hands with a groan. "No scary visuals right before I go to bed, please!"

"In the meantime, who suffers?" asked Regina dryly. "Henry has been kidnapped!" She looked at Emma. "Don't tell me you agree with this, Miss Swan?"

Emma sighed, squared her jaw. "I do," she said abruptly. "The alternative – Henry wouldn't want it."

"Then there's no more to be said." Gold's voice was mild, final. "Good luck, Your Highnesses. I look forward to a swift resolution to our problems." He smiled, but there was little warmth in it.

"Well, if the decision's been made…" Hook got to his feet, stomping out of the room and up the stairs onto the deck. David nodded, and beckoned to Snow, leading her from the room and down to the lower deck. Emma pushed back her own chair and stood. The ship lurched suddenly and she clutched at the wall, looking queasy.

"What the hell?" she muttered. She turned on her heel and took the stairs two at a time, clambering up on deck to find Hook at the wheel, squinting into the rising sun.

"What the hell are you doing?" she shouted, and he grinned at her.

"It's best we keep moving," he called. "Sitting still makes us – well – a sitting target."

She glared at him, clutching at her stomach, and opened her mouth to curse fluently. Instead she bit down on the inside of her cheek and groaned as she lunged for the side of the ship, thankfully leaning over the side before she threw up spectacularly. Hook winced, drawing air in over his teeth in a low whistle. Emma spat several times, furious with herself, and took some deep, calming breaths.

"You seem to be having some discomfort, Miss Swan." Gold. She hated his calm, unflappable voice with the suspicion of a smug grin hidden behind it. She straightened up and glared at him.

"Can't you do something about this?" she demanded, and he smiled thinly.

"But of course," he said easily. She scowled.

"So why have you been letting me suffer?" she spat, and his smile widened.

"You didn't ask for my help," he said simply. "Am I given to understand that you wish to be free of your seasickness?"

"Yes," she growled. "You are given to understand that, you asshole." Her tone was biting, but he was unruffled. He merely stood, watching her. Waiting. She let her shoulders slump, sighing.

"What's your price?" she asked wearily, and he grinned, stepping towards her, leaning in as though he was about to let her in on a secret.

"At some point in the near future," he said softly, his free hand gesturing, fingers spreading and curling, "I will do something of which you will not approve." He showed his teeth. "I need you to – let it slide." His hand swept to the left, palm downwards. Emma frowned. Knowing him, that could be absolutely anything.

"Okay," she said stonily. "Just do it, Gold."

He chuckled, and his hand twisted around itself, purple light shining from it, before he placed it on her forehead. Emma gasped as the nausea disappeared. He smirked and turned on his heel.

"Pleasure doing business with you, Miss Swan," he threw over his shoulder. Emma couldn't help feeling that she had agreed to something she shouldn't have. Hook's frown told her he thought the same thing.

"This is getting us nowhere!" David stormed into the captain's quarters, running frustrated fingers through his hair. He had been questioning Greg and Tamara for hours, but they had simply sat there in silence, smirking at him. He had tried hard not to lose his temper, but when Greg began whistling as though he couldn't even hear David, the Prince had finally stomped out of the room. First blood to the prisoners.

"I did warn you," said Gold mildly, sitting in Hook's chair with his legs crossed, a book folded in his lap. "In situations like these, we just have to go with what we know."

"We don't know anything!" spat David, throwing himself into a chair. "We don't know who they're working for, we don't know why they came here, we don't know where they were going, and most importantly, we don't know where Henry is."

Gold shrugged slightly with a grin, as if to say he hadn't meant the information in their possession.

"I offered them some food," said Mary Margaret, sidling into the room, arms folded across her chest. "I can tell they're starving, but they tried hard not to react."

"So we starve them some more, and maybe they come around?" asked Regina, nostrils flaring. "And in the meantime, where the hell is my son? He could be dead for all we know!" She pushed herself up from the table, fingers wiggling as though she was itching to curse someone.

"They can't hold out much longer," Mary Margaret said gently, putting a hand on her arm. Regina shook it off, her lip curling.

"Whatever," she said coldly. "I'm going up on deck."

Emma slipped into the room, frowning after Regina as the older woman barged into her on her way out.

"What's got her panties in a wad?" she remarked flatly. Mary Margaret sighed.

"She thinks we should be pressing Greg and Tamara more – firmly," she explained. Her eyes dropped to the floor, her face worried. "And maybe she's right."

"Snow!" David looked shocked, but she held up a hand.

"David, I don't agree with torture, no more than you do," she began. "But there has to be something we can do to get the information from them."

Emma looked up suddenly. "Gold," she said sharply. "Can you – cast some sort of spell? Read their minds? Anything?"

He whistled, tutting under his breath. "Spells that touch on the mind are tricky things," he said quietly. "I can certainly do it, but they may not be – quite whole – afterwards."

"Okay, so that's plan B," said David grimly. "If I can't get anything from them today, Gold, I want you to try."

"As you wish." Gold turned back to his book, as though the conversation bored him.

The prisoners maintained their silence throughout the day, much to David and Mary Margaret's frustration. They were given water and taken separately from the locked room to wash and use the bathroom, although after Tamara had punched Mary Margaret in the stomach and tried to escape, Regina ensured there were magical restraints on them at all times. Hook had anchored the ship off shore in a different bay of the island, claiming that it was usually clear of the Lost Ones, as the redskin villages were nearby. Lily had remained below deck in her cabin ever since they had sailed into the bay, and Emma wondered if she was in hiding from her own people. After dinner, and having discussed their predicament at length, David confirmed with a sigh that he could see no alternative but to use magic to get the information, which dragged a wide, wicked smile from Regina that made Emma frown suspiciously. They began to drift from the room, Hook's boots sounding hollowly on the stairs as he made his way up on deck.

Gold sat at the table, fingertips tapping together over the handle of his cane, a muscle ticking at the corner of his eye the only sign of the fury raging within him at Henry's capture. He tried to calm himself, although there was only Emma to see if he lost it completely. He had hoped, when they only had Greg and Tamara to deal with, that getting Henry back would be easy, but now things had changed for the worse. Fingers tightened on his cane until the knuckles were white, and he tried to rein in his anger towards the two people who had come to his town and torn all their lives apart, killed his son, kidnapped his grandson, taken him from his true love. He needed to remain calm if he was to deal with them appropriately. It certainly would not do to lose his temper and kill them quickly. The process of swallowing his rage was almost like meditation; he concentrated on something that gave him pleasure, pictured it until it was real as life, and buried the anger within, pushing it down into the pit of his stomach. He decided to imagine flaying Hook alive. The pirate would need to be tied down; the trees at the edge of the shoreline would work admirably. He would do it himself, without magic, just with a knife. There would be a certain satisfaction in cutting into Hook's flesh and getting blood on his hands. He would start at the feet, and work upwards; he wondered idly if he would be able to do the pirate in one, long strip. Hook would try to be staunch, try not to scream, but he would, in the end. They all did, eventually. They all cried and screamed and begged for mercy, for death. It had been some time, but it wasn't as though he'd forgotten how. A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, and he recalled that they were on the ocean. Salt water might be a deliciously excruciating addition. His focus returned as his breathing eased and he was calm once more, and he noticed Emma watching him warily, almost as though she could read his mind. He gave her a wolfish grin and she started, turning away hurriedly. He sighed slightly as he realised the depths his mind had plumbed. It was getting harder, the longer he was apart from Belle, harder to keep the Dark One buried. She had always managed to calm him, to keep his best self at the surface; even on the rare occasions when his temper broke free with bone-crushing force she could bring him back from the edge. Part of him was concerned that, without her, he was capable of anything. Part of him welcomed it.

Emma drained the cup of wine she was holding, and looked over at Gold. He was sitting with his eyes closed, hands folded in front of him, almost a meditative posture. She wondered what he was thinking about, or whether his mind was blessedly blank. She doubted it. His eyes flicked open, making her start.

"May I help you, Miss Swan?"

Emma jerked her head towards the Mirror. "Have you talked to Belle?"

"No." His voice was clipped, blunt. She frowned.

"Why not? Don't you want her to know you're okay?" His face remained impassive, and her frown deepened. "Don't you want to know that she's okay?" His mouth twitched at that, and she pressed her advantage. "She'll worry, you know."

"She needn't." He let his head roll back with a sigh. "It's better this way."

Emma felt like shaking him. "So – what? You're letting her go for her own good?"

"Something like that."

Emma rolled her eyes. "God, save me from guys who think they know what's best for us girls!"

"Has it ever occurred to you, dearie, that I may have a very good reason for doing what I'm doing?" he said acidly.

"Don't be an ass, Gold," she snapped, and he looked up, surprised. "Credit your girlfriend with at least knowing her own mind. It's obvious to anyone with eyes that she loves you, and that the feeling's mutual. So, while the rest of us may think 'ew' about the whole thing, don't let it slip away."

"Like you did?" he said softly, and she grimaced.

"Yeah." Her voice was gruff, but she met his eyes. "I told him, you know. Before he fell. There's that, at least."

"I'm glad." His face softened slightly. "The two of you were well-matched."

"As are you and Belle," she said insistently. She turned and picked up the Mirror, holding it out to him. "Call her. And when we get back to Storybrooke, man up and make an honest woman of her. She won't wait around for ever for you to grow a pair, you know?"

He huffed a little at that, but took the Mirror from her. Emma smirked and strode from the room to leave him to it.

A/N: Turns out my Once muse works weeknights as well as weekends, so I've been able to update as planned!

I've seen the first two sneak peeks for 3X01 (which I always say I'm not going to watch and which I always do) Squeeee! This is, obviously, nothing like the real thing. I hope you enjoyed, nonetheless. Please review if so xx