Disney's Tinker Bell in Storybrooke
A Disney Fairies / Once Upon A Time Crossover
Season 1, Episode 8, Chapter 7

STORYBROOKE, MAINE

Claire was hot. She was steaming mad all night long. During the debate Mr. Gold had all but indicated that he was responsible for the fire that damaged Town Hall. Emma Swan had fingered him as the culprit, though Swan had no definitive proof. Claire had lost her job because of him and then, in a desperate bid to keep her home she traded her three most valuable possessions in exchange for one month's payment.

Part of her wanted to find Emma and ask her, as the new sheriff, to right this wrong. Part of her just wanted to find Mr. Gold and strangle his scrawny throat. Mr. Gold, however, was nowhere to be found this night. No doubt he had gone into hiding, particularly now that Ms. Swan was the new law enforcement officer. Someone with the guts to face him down at every turn.

There was, at least, some relief that Sydney wasn't elected. Everyone knew that Mr. Glass was Regina's puppet at the The Daily Mirror. She used him to get her way. For some reason Mayor Mills was now singling Claire out, bullying her through the papers. (The news article the next morning covered both the debate and the end result of the vote. Yet, despite what everyone learned about Mr. Gold's arson attempt the paper still said that the preliminary findings suspected incompetence from the contractor may have been a factor.)

Sheriff Swan's victory party lasted well into the night. Claire insisted that Tina only drink tea or water. Vidia, though, got her first taste of brown liquor. It was not to her liking. Pixie Hollow's rose hips wine was far tastier in her opinion. At some point that evening a boy approached her, introduced himself as Henry and asked, "Are you a real, live fairy?"

"As opposed to a fake, dead one?" Vidia replied in her usual snarky tone. She had expected that Henry was just another person out to embarrass her or Clarion. Particularly when he said his mother was the mayor.

"You're just being you," Henry answered. It was quite the mature answer from the young boy. "I would like for you to read something."

The ten year old handed her a large book with a leather binding and embossed lettering. Once Upon a Time. The O, U and T were larger than the other letters and stood out.

"What is this?" she asked him.

"It's a book of stories," he told her. "Fairy tales, but different."

"Yeah, I don't read fairy tales, kid. I'm all grown up."

"But you're a fairy, how can you not believe in fairy tales?"

He had her there, but she was still not convinced. "Why should I care?"

"Because Tinker Bell is in this book," he said eagerly. "It has her story."

"I know her story, I was there."

"No, the rest of her story," Henry told her. "My mom is the evil queen. She is the reason why you and everyone else is here in Storybrooke."

Now that was interesting. Vidia, though, was still defensive. Would Regina send her own son to play a trick on her?

Henry, though, could read Vidia's apprehension, not that it was hard to do. "Okay, look. The mayor isn't my real mom. She adopted me. Emma is my real mom. And that book will explain why you're in Storybrooke."

The fast flyer gave it some thought. "Okay. I'll read it," she said though trying to sound disinterested.

"Great, call Emma when you're done." With that he walked off leaving Vidia with the strange book in hand.

THE ENCHANTED FOREST

In the early morning light Hordor was escorting out Baelfire, conscripting him into the Duke's army to fight in The Ogre Wars. With the boy in hand, Hordor wore a smug smile, "Everyone is watching from behind the drapes today."

Suddenly, one of his men was felled by a man with a dagger who struck from behind. Hordor instantly recognized him and knelt. "Dark One." But as the man approached the guard realized it wasn't the Duke's black mage.

"Now what did you call me? Spindleshanks? I remember, Hobblefoot." Hordor recognized him. Rumpelstiltskin the coward. Only now Rumpelstiltskin possessed the Dark One's dagger and his name was engraved upon it. He noticed something else, too. Blood on the blade.

"What do you want of me?" Hordor asked, afraid for his life.

Rumpelstiltskin put his foot forward and, echoing Hordor's own words, said, "Kiss… My… Boot."

When the captain of the guards knelt down to do so, Rumpel grabbed him the head and twisted it snapping his neck instantly. The other three remaining guards reached for their weapons. Enhanced by the dark magic at his command Rumpelstiltskin impaled each one with his dagger in less than two seconds. Only the third could unsheathe his sword, but could not put it to use before his demise.

"Papa?" Baelfire was frightened. That his father now possessed the power of The Dark One was in and of itself disturbing. What truly frightened the boy was that his father seemed to be enjoying this power. Enjoying it too much.

"I'm afraid, Papa."

"Don't be, son. I'm not afraid of anything," Rumpelstiltskin told his son, a cruel smile creeping across his face.

STORYBROOKE, MAINE

Emma reported to work the next morning. Hanging from the coat rack was Graham's winter coat. The same one Mr. Gold had offered her a few days ago. It meant only one thing, the pawn broker was in the building. Sheriff Swan wanted nothing more to do with him.

That's when he dropped a bomb. "Now isn't that something, political theater in an actual theater."

Emma was in stunned disbelief. Had he truly manipulated everything? "I had to give you a higher form of bravery," he told her. Saving Regina's arse wasn't enough. People had to see you stand up to me."

The people of Storybrooke were afraid of Regina, but they were absolutely terrified of Mr. Gold. When Emma asked why, he responded that she owed him a favor and now that she was Sheriff, Emma was in a far better position for when he came to collect.

Gold was about to leave when Emma asked one more question, "Why me?"

"Because, dearie, I know how to recognize a desperate soul."

PIXIE HOLLOW, NEVER LAND (The Early Edwardian Period)

Flying over Pixie Hollow for the last time Tinker Bell looked down and saw all the places that had been important to her. Tinker's Nook, the fall/winter border where she first encountered Periwinkle via glowing wings and even the platform where she and Terence had unveiled the Fall Scepter. In the mouse stables she could see her friend, Cheese; he was playing with his best mouse friend Cheddar.

"Goodbye, Cheese. Goodbye, Clank. Goodbye, Bobble. Goodbye all of you. I'll miss you so much," she said with tears streaming down her cheeks. With a view of the Winter Woods she choked a bit as she spoke. "Goodbye, Periwinkle. I'll miss you more than anyone. And goodbye to you, too, Terence. I hope you and Zarina are happy together."

~O~

In the early 1800's during the westward expansion of the fledgling United States, frontiersman like Daniel Boone pushed their way into Appalachia and the territories of the Louisiana Purchase. These men were restless souls who fought Indians, captured animals for their pelts, mapped the new territories and slowly helped bring civilization to the previously untamed wilderness. Their exploits often made them legends in their own time and for many generations afterwards.

Yet for all their celebrity they were deeply troubled men. Once a place was made safe for more civilized people, Boone and others like him tried to settle down, but found they could not. Their desire for constant adventure never allowed them to by happy as farmers or family men. Only when they were fighting Indians, trapping animals or mapping new lands were they ever truly satisfied with their lives. They simply could not live in the new habitats they helped to create. Sedentary living in a civilized society was the antithesis of their adventure seeking personalities.

In a manner of speaking this is what had happened to Tinker Bell. When she had first arrived, Pixie Hollow lived in what could be called a pre-industrial state highlighted by artisans, craftsmanship and very little division of labor. The harvesting and production of seeds, nuts, pigments and the distribution of pixie dust was always a slow and labor intensive process. Once Tinker Bell accepted her status as a tinker fairy she began to remake Pixie Hollow, designing and building new facilities and devices that greatly increased production through the use of lost things, gears, pulleys and other works. After several years Tinker Bell brought Pixie Hollow into what could be termed an early industrial age, a mixture of artisanship & craftsmanship existing alongside the means of mass production.

Tink's exceptional talent meant that her works were so well designed that they only needed repairs and maintenance to last. Everything she built was to fill a glaring need, but once those needs were met there was little else for her to do except make pots and pans. When she tried to interfere with actual production the artisans and craftsman rejected her designs. A rejection she took very personally.

Deep down Tinker Bell was a restless spirit that needed constant challenges, intellectual stimulation and adventure in order to thrive. Eventually she found that with little else to invent or to fix she began to feel increasingly useless and unneeded. Like those frontiersmen, Tinker Bell had created a habitat where she could no longer live a satisfying life. She had tinkered herself into obsolescence, into a life without meaning or purpose.

Tinker Bell's growing frustration began to spill over into her personal relationships, causing occasional havoc with friends who noted her growing disconnect along with her bouts of despondency. Terence put all his time and effort into his new position leaving Tinker Bell to feel abandoned and alone when she needed him most. The tragic vision of he and Zarina kissing was what finally pushed Tinker Bell over the edge. She had very little left to live for in Pixie Hollow. (Eventually, though, she concluded that she still would have left Pixie Hollow even if her relationship with Terence had not ended badly.)

Upon seeing Terence and Zarina together Tinker Bell returned to the comfort of her teakettle home where she cried. Humiliated and embarrassed Tinker Bell made a monumental decision. Hastily she threw together her most personal items including her hammer and some clothes. Then on a piece of leaf paper she wrote a brief goodbye note. She concluded with, "Please tell my sister that I'm sorry. I will miss her the most and I hope that one day we can see each other once again."

No mention was made of Terence. When her friends found the note, she was long gone. Terence took it very personal. If only he had went directly to her rather than send Viola. If only he had given their relationship the time it deserved. If only he had not been so blind. Terence spent months searching for her with one of Tink's closest friends always at his side. Every corner of Never Land and the nearby islands was searched, everywhere except one place: Hangman's Tree.

Underneath this gnarly looking stump lived the boy who wouldn't to grow up, Peter Pan. He and his lost boys resided deep within Never Land with the tree as their entrance. Inside a small hole in the wall Tinker Bell made her new home. From this modest place Peter, Tink and the lost boys had their grand adventures.

Tinker Bell never felt so alive.

STORYBROOKE, MAINE

"I want my jersey's back," Claire demanded.

"Then you will owe me one month's payment, payable immediately," Mr. Gold answered her.

"I owe you nothing until the end of the month," she spat in return. "You set that fire in Town Hall, you cost me my contract. You knew that when I came to you and took advantage of it."

The bell above the door jingled, Sheriff Emma Swan entered. Claire had requested her presence at the pawn shop. Emma said to wait for her, but Claire was too angry to sit in the car until the police cruiser drove up.

"Tell this thief I want my collectible jersey's back," Mrs. Kensington demanded of the new sheriff. She explained her line of reasoning. Then she added something more. "He also owes me the balance due on the city contract I lost."

"Now listen hear, dearie, I owe you nothing," Gold hissed. "You on the other hand owe me quite a bit. And as I recall you came to me and willingly accepted my offer."

"That was before I knew you were responsible for burning up my job!" Claire screamed.

"Our transaction is legal and binding, isn't it, Sheriff Swan?" the pawn broker asked Emma.

Emma Swan knew he had taken advantage of the situation, but Mr. Gold was correct. Claire came to him and accepted the transaction willingly. Plus, as Mr. Gold then pointed out, there wasn't enough to tie the fire to him. Any arrest or indictment against him would never make it to court. Insufficient evidence.

"I'm sorry, but he is right," Emma apologized to Mrs. Kensington. The sheriff's shoulders slumped with a sense of helplessness. Claire could not believe her ears. Last night she stood up to this bastard, now she was backing down.

"Maybe you aren't the sheriff we thought you were," Claire said, clearly disappointed.

"Even if I wanted to give them back, which I wouldn't, those trinkets have already been sold," Gold said.

Claire became unhinged. She charged the man and tried to climb the desk to claw out his eyes. "Why you son of a-.!"

"NO!" Emma pulled back the irate woman and told her quite frankly that if she assaulted Mr. Gold, Claire would end up in jail.

"Let me go," she groused. "If you can't keep him from taking advantage of others what good are you?" Claire stormed out of the shop slamming the door behind her.

"I hope she doesn't break my little bell," Gold said with a smirk.

"Don't get too comfy with our little arrangement," Emma said. "If I find enough evidence to link you and that fire I'll throw you behind bars and you'll owe Claire everything she's demanding."

"Good luck," was all Gold would say in return.

~O~

Claire Kensington stopped at a red light. She started pounding on the steering wheel angrily. Halfway through her tirade Mayor Mills contacted her. It seemed that the city leader wanted to speak with her in her office.

Ascending the stairs to the second floor offices, Claire was only able to look on in despair at the charred remains of the walls where she had been working just earlier that week. "Oh, hello. Please do come in," Regina greeted in the hallway.

Claire stopped dead in her tracks when she noticed Albert Spencer sitting in the Mayor's Office. "What is he doing here?"

Spencer handed her a brown envelope. "It's a check," he told her. "The fire was indeed arson we just learned. According to the town charter that entitles you to the remaining balance of the contract."

Claire opened the envelope, excited that she would at least get paid. However, the check was for a much smaller amount than expected. "Wait, this is only for five thousand dollars. Where is the rest?"

"Oh, you don't get paid for labor or other expenses," Regina told her.

"But I need more than this. Christmas is coming up, I have debts to pay. I was counting on that money."

"Are you confessing to fraud, Mrs. Kensington?" Regina asked.

"No. No of course, not." Claire knew she was getting shafted. The deductions listed on the accompanying spreadsheet showed materials at full retail. Labor was itemized at union rates for painters, electricians, carpenters, drywall hangers and general labor at the maximum hours the city contract allowed. These were exorbitant salaries, especially for the electricians and carpenters as both were listed as the more expensive Master, not Journeyman.

This was far from what she would ever pay Paul, Ben and Valerie. The city was holding back at least another thirty five hundred dollars. Possibly more as the labor deductions were for ten persons, not the three she had on her payroll. If anyone was committing fraud it was Regina, though Claire would be hard pressed to prove it since it was within the rules of the city charter and the contract she signed.

"It's very simple, Mrs. Kensington," Albert told her. "You can either take what we offer you, or sign this document consenting to refuse payment."

"Well, I'll sign that right now," Claire told him. "And I'll see you in court."

"You should also know that by refusing payment you also give up the right to file any future lawsuits against the city," Spencer added just a half second before she put pen to paper. "Instead you'll be subject to binding arbitration. And I'm the arbitrator."

"In other words I'm stuck. You keep all that you want and I'm left with the breadcrumbs," she reiterated. "You people are bloodsuckers. I'd have better luck with the IRS."

"Sign here to show you accepted payment," Regina demanded with a smug grin.

Two city workers knocked at the door to the mayor's office. "Where do you want these?" one of them asked.

"Right here on this wall," Regina told them. The two men walked in a big crate containing three large picture frames. "I've been thinking of adding a splash of color to my décor. What do you think, Claire?"

The mayor's office was a stark affair dominated by clinical whites offset with deep blacks and a few greys. It gave the office an intimidating feel. The only color in the room was a bowl of deep red apples on the coffee table.

The three men removed each frame, which were covered with padded blankets to keep them safe during transport. When the blankets were removed it revealed three green basketball jerseys with the names McHale, Parish and Bird.

"My Boston Celtics jerseys," Claire gasped.

"No, my Boston Celtics jerseys," Regina stated. "I bought them this morning from Mr. Gold. I decided to start showing support for our nearest professional basketball team."

"When have you ever shown any kind of interest in sports?" Claire fumed.

"I know plenty about basketball," Regina said rattling of a few easy to remember stats. Claire, though, saw right through it. Particularly when Mayor Mills said that Bill Russell earned all of his rings as a player when in fact the last two were as a player / coach. She also noted that Russell was also the first African American to coach an NBA team.

"Well, good for him," Regina said tossing it off with disinterest. "We've come a long way since then."

"That doesn't diminish the achievement," Claire answered.

"You know, I'll never understand why some people think a little ink on some cheap fabric is so meaningful," Regina told Claire, wanting to change the subject.

"That is not cheap fabric," Claire said, trying to throttle back her fury. "These are game worn jerseys. And not just for any game, but the sixth game of the 1986 NBA Finals when they beat the Houston Rockets and won the championship. That Celtics team is considered one of the greatest in NBA history."

"Oh well, thank for that bit of information," Regina smiled. "I can appreciate them all the more."

"Those are mine," Claire seethed.

"These are my property," Regina bellowed in response. "I paid for them. And as I understand it you parted ways with them of your own accord. Now leave my office before I have you removed."

Claire charged out of the office, ran down the stairs and out the front door. She stood in front of the announcement board that was directly in front of Town Hall. On one side were a few remaining campaign posters for Sydney Glass. The instant Claire spotted them she ripped them off the wall and shredded them, screaming and cursing loudly as she could.

The mayor watched from a window on the second floor savoring her small victory.

This concludes Episode 8. However, some of the story arcs begun in this episode will continue in the next few chapters. Stay tuned.