Questions to Answer:

Does Cora have Regina's heart? No. Regina's heart is where it belongs – right in her chest. Cora contemplates taking it a few times to teach her daughter a lesson, but never does. In the end, she finds Regina's ability to love…useful.

What's going to happen when Neal/Baelfire shows up? I can't spoil too much, but he will show up earlier than he does in the show, and for different reasons. Readers of my previous stories know that I adore him, so if you want to see him, don't despair!

Chapter Fifteen—"Reap What You Sow"

"Hey, where'd the chess set go?" Emma asked curiously, plopping down at the table after putting groceries away. She still had a good chunk of change saved up from her days as a bail bondswoman, so even without a job she was doing better than Mary Margaret, which meant she certainly wasn't going to let the struggling schoolteacher buy food and other necessities for her. And if Emma happened to buy more than she needed when she was at the store, well…Mary Margaret was doing most of the cooking, so Emma often argued that at least she could do the shopping.

"What was that?" her roommate (mother?) called from upstairs, and Emma heard the thump-thump-thump of her heading down them. Taking a quick look around, she tried to see if Mary Margaret had moved the chess board in question, but Emma couldn't see it anywhere.

She might not have ever noticed it was missing had the two of them not been talking about the chess set the night before; it was one of the few things of value that Mary Margaret had inherited from her father, and she had been a hair's breadth away from pawning it to Mr. Gold when Emma moved in. In fact, Mary Margaret actually had intended to take it to the pawn shop that very day if Emma hadn't talked her out of doing so. Emma wasn't a big fan of chess (she'd played a handful of times in group homes and knew she didn't have the patience for the game; it only made her want to shoot people), but she did know how to judge the value of a set like that. There was no way that Gold would give Mary Margaret what the antique golden chess set was worth, and besides, Mary Margaret was very attached to the set. Just the thought of selling it made her start to tear up, and Emma wasn't going to let her new friend do that to herself.

"The chess set," Emma repeated. "Where'd you put it?"

"It should still be on the coffee table," was the confused response as Mary Margaret reached the bottom of the stairs. "Isn't it?"

"No, not at all," Emma replied, turning to look at the table in question. The chess set definitely wasn't there—but a small, folded up piece of paper was. "What's this?"

"Oh, no," Mary Margaret whispered, sitting down rather suddenly on the couch, her face pale and drawn. "Why did this have to happen now? Just when things were getting better…"

Emma frowned, sitting down next to her after snagging the paper. "Whoa, slow down. What are you talking about?"

"Just read it," her roommate whispered, sounding defeated.

So Emma did. The note was simple, typed in a standard font on cheap paper, and judging from the 'Storybrooke Free Public Library' printed down in the bottom right corner, it had obviously come from one of the free computers at the library. So, no good clues there. But the text itself was a bit more helpful:

Ms. Blanchard, it read. Your chess set is missing. If you wish to see it again, leave $400 in the mailbox at 43 Dunfell Road. The note was sighed: The Twins.

"What the hell is this?" Emma demanded.

A moment passed before Mary Margaret replied, her head buried in her hands. "They're kids. Nicholas and Ava Zimmer, the twins. They live in Fagin's Group Home."

"Why do you look so worried, then? This'll be easy enough to fix. I'll go down there and talk to whoever's in charge—"

"No, don't!"

Emma drew back, staring at her friend. "Why not?"

"Because then they'll only ask for more money. And if you talk to Mr. Tollak, he'll claim to know nothing and be unable to control the wild children," Mary Margaret whispered.

"Tollak runs the group home, right? Slimy, sneaky looking bastard?"

Mary Margaret nodded. "The kids steal for him. They always give back what they take after you pay them, but if you talk to Mr. Tollak, the price doubles. Or if you try to go to the police, it triples." She sighed helplessly. "There's nothing to do but pay them, but where will I get the money?"

"I'll talk to Keith. It doesn't have to be you that goes to the police, Mary Margaret. Keith might be a lecherous prick, but he's the acting sheriff. He has to do something," Emma told her.

"Yeah, like get a kickback from the money they take," was the glum response.

"Really?"

Mary Margaret just nodded again, looking close to tears. Moved, Emma reached out and took her hand.

"I've got the money," she said softly. "Let me take care of this, okay?"

"You really suck at this job, don't you?" Emma said, strolling into the sheriff's station the next morning. She'd spent the evening before driving by Number 43, Dunfell Road—which was, as she'd remembered, an abandoned house that had seen better days—and reassuring Mary Margaret that she wouldn't do anything to make things worse. But still, she had to talk to Keith about this one—he was the acting sheriff, and besides, Emma had a hard time thinking that he was clever enough to be taking kickbacks from anyone.

"Says the chick who got fired," Keith countered from behind a stack of paperwork that didn't seem to be going anywhere fast. Then he smiled. "But I could hook you up with a nice job at the Rabbit Hole, if you want. You're not exactly as…soft as the boys like 'em, but you'll do. If you keep your mouth shut."

Emma's eyes almost bugged out of her head. "What?" she gaped.

"Just offering." Keith shrugged.

"Offering what?" From the tone of his voice, it could have been anything from exotic dancing to prostitution, and Emma wasn't sure which one insulted her more.

"Come talk to Mr. Morgan and find out," he replied with a grin that Emma definitely found insulting.

"Screw you," she retorted conversationally, and then crossed her arms. "I'm here to report a crime, you know."

"Well, why didn't you say so?" the acting sheriff drawled, sitting back in Graham's chair as if he owned it. Watching that made Emma feel a little bit sick, but she forced herself to remain focused.

"Some kids stole something from Mary Margaret Blanchard. I want you to investigate it."

"Students causing problems aren't my business, Swan. Try taking that to Principal Cole."

"They stole it from our apartment," Emma stressed, rolling her eyes. "Not a school problem."

"Sounds like rowdy kids to me."

"Sounds like the group home in town can't keep tabs on their kids to me," she shot back.

Keith shrugged again, sipping his coffee—which, knowing him, probably had a bit of whiskey in it. "Not my problem." Then her perked up slightly. "How much're they asking?"

Emma stared, unable to believe his gall. Here Keith was, practically admitting that he knew what was going on, without even blinking an eye. How messed up was this town? "That's not your business," she scowled, and turned for the door. But she didn't walk out without leaving a parting shot behind: "You're a real waste of oxygen, you know that? You're not half the man Graham is."

She'd known he was an idiot and sometimes a drunk, but Emma hadn't thought Keith was that corrupt. Obviously, she would have to fix this problem herself—and be prepared to fork over a lot more cash if the price really did triple like Mary Margaret seemed to think it would. She hadn't meant to make things worse by going to Keith, but then, Emma hadn't expected this to be such a mess. She'd promised Mary Margaret that she'd fix things, and she was still going to do just that. No matter what it took.

4 years, 1 month Before the Curse

A certain amount of courage—or stupidity—was required to show up in the castle of the man who had once ripped your tongue out, even if you did want to make a deal. Rumplestiltskin could admire that, provided the trait in play was actually courage, but at the moment, he only found the intrusion annoying. Particularly when it was the semi-sober Sheriff of Nottingham shouting for him down in the entrance hall. If he left the idiot alone, who knew what he would fumble his way into breaking? Normally, Rumplestiltskin would ignore an unwelcome visitor for a few minutes, just to remind them who had the power in his castle, but he didn't want his belongings harmed in the process. Still, he scowled.

Belle had been back for less than a month, and they were still trying to figure out exactly what this relationship of theirs meant. Obviously, he loved her—his heart fluttered just thinking about her, curse or no—and she continued to prove to him that she really did love him as well, despite the fact that she really shouldn't. Not being able to kiss put a bit of a damper on their ability to demonstrate their love in a more physical fashion, however, and Belle was no Cora. Belle was a lady, the daughter of a knight who had come to love a monster, not the miller's ambitious daughter. Cora had given her virginity away long before she'd jumped into bed with him, and Rumplestiltskin was determined not to steal Belle's innocence like that.

Even if resisting said temptation was almost impossible, made worse by Belle herself. For example, when Nottingham arrived, she had been brazenly sitting on his lap to show him something in some book or another. Rumplestiltskin had next to no idea what she'd been reading him, only that he'd needed a touch of magic to keep himself from rather visibly reacting to her presence. She probably had no idea, knowing Belle; sometimes, she was so innocent that it hurt. But leather pants were such a nuisance at times.

"What do you want?" he barked, waving a hand so that the doors to the great hall opened as Belle jumped off his lap. Rumplestiltskin stood as she did so, making sure his magic had his body firmly in check at the same time.

The Sheriff of Nottingham stomped through the doors, and then stopped cold upon seeing Belle. She was in her blue and white dress today—she said she liked it, even though Rumplestiltskin had given her dozens of nicer dresses than that, insisting she not look the part of the servant she no longer was—and Nottingham seemed to notice how low cut that dress was. His eyes immediately focused on her chest, shining slightly…and then he licked his lips. And then stared for another long moment. Rumplestiltskin could feel discomfort radiating off of Belle, as well as his own curse snarling possessively, so he stepped forward, snapping:

"You're here to see me, dearie. "Unless I need to remind you of the lesson in manners I taught you lasttime?"

That made Nottingham's eyes snap up. "No. I'm here to make a deal."

"Yes, yes, yes. Most people are. Tell me what you want," Rumplestiltskin gestured, and a full goblet of wine appeared on the table. That drew Nottingham's gaze, too, though not as hungrily as Belle had, and Rumplestiltskin gave him a nasty smile as he sat back down in his high-backed chair, lifting the goblet to take a sip.

Do I want to get him drunk and make him more careless, or get rid of the oaf as soon as possible? he wondered to himself, sneaking a glance at Belle. She looked annoyed, now, and still a little tense; although she trusted Rumplestiltskin not to hand her over to the sheriff these days, she obviously didn't like the man any more than he did. Giving her a slight wink, Rumplestiltskin gestured, and magic pulled a second chair out for Belle. Nottingham took a step forward as she seated herself gracefully, clearly interpreting that as an invitation, but a second flick of the Dark One's fingers made the other two chairs vanish in a swirl of maroon smoke.

Belle giggled softly, and the sound was music to his ears.

Nottingham stumbled slightly, and then shot Rumplestiltskin a confused look. But the sheriff seemed to gather himself, saying bluntly: "I want you to take care of an outlaw for me. And I want his woman."

"Can't make her love you, dear. Magic doesn't work like that," Rumplestiltskin replied, turning the rest over in his mind. Oh, he could guess what outlaw Nottingham wanted, and judging from the glare Belle was shooting him, she disliked the idea of handing Robin Hood over to this oaf. Truth be told, Rumplestiltskin rather sympathized more with the outlaw than the sheriff; even if Hood hadn't managed to make it out of his castle, he was at least skilled in his trade. The same could not be said for his enemy.

"I don't care if she loves me," Nottingham shrugged. "I just want her."

"Isn't there…a child?" Rumplestiltskin asked curiously, just to see what Nottingham would say. But this was the man who'd bargained for twenty minutes with his 'wench'; Rumplestiltskin supposed he should not be surprised with the answer he got.

"So?"

Images whirled through his mind, threads of possible futures mixing in with the present, and Rumplestiltskin quickly picked the one out that mattered the most. The woman…Marian, he thought her name was—not that it mattered—was going to die. Not today, and not even in the very near future, but it would happen eventually. Cora would probably be at fault, not that that came as a surprise, and that would clear the way for something far more important. The child would be important, too, important in the grand scheme of things, too, and not just because he was an innocent child. An infant barely born, too, if Rumplestiltskin's math was correct.

And there was nothing that made him angrier than the thought of someone abusing or abandoning a child. Nothing at all.

"Isn't this…woman a prisoner right now? A prisoner of some minion of the Evil Queen?" he asked.

"They say that even Queen Cora is afraid of you, and that you can work any deal," Nottingham confirmed. "I want her. And I want the outlaw dead."

"You're asking quite a lot," he replied airily, aware of Belle's unhappy look but ignoring it for now. "What are you offering in return?"

"The silver arrow of Herne the Hunter."

Rumplestiltskin snorted. "Is that all?"

"It's one of the most magical objects in Sherwood Forest!" Nottingham looked supremely put out that Rumplestiltskin hadn't immediately started drooling.

"It was one of the most magical objects. It's old, dearie, and just about drained. Not terribly important," he laughed. "Certainly not enough to cross an Evil Queen for." Nor enough to derail the future for.

"Fine, then. Just the outlaw dead."

"What about the child?" Belle asked exactly the question that Rumplestiltskin was wondering about, but Nottingham looked at her like she'd grown a second head. Was the man unaware of the fact that women could talk? What a fool.

"What about him?" Nottingham shrugged, and then looked back at Rumplestiltskin. "Do we have a deal? The arrow for the outlaw's death? I thought you didn't like him, anyway."

Rumplestiltskin let out a giggle, the high-pitched and nasty one that gave so many people the chills. "I don't want your arrow. It's useless."

"But you have to. They say you'll make any deal, that you can make anything happen."

The Sheriff didn't seem able to comprehend why Rumplestiltskin was saying no, but in fairness to him, it wasn't only about the arrow. Under other circumstances, Rumplestiltskin would have been happy to add Herne's legendary silver arrow to his collection, but these were not normal circumstances. Firstly, Belle was against him killing Robin Hood—or even arranging that death—and Rumplestiltskin didn't want the arrow enough to risk upsetting her. Particularly not when she'd just come back a month earlier and might leave again if he acted so foolishly. Secondly, however, and far more importantly, he now knew that his earlier failure to kill Hood had unlocked an interesting series of future events, one where the outlaw would matter. His wife, apparently captured already, needed to die, but it was imperative that Hood did not. They'd need him later.

"I certainly can, but only for a price. And you have nothing I want," he told Nottingham bluntly, and then waved an airy hand. "Be gone with you. I have better things to do than listen to you whine.

"I—what?"

"I don't want to make a deal with you, Sheriff," Rumplestiltskin spelled it out slowly. "So leave before I decide to take something in exchange for my time, which you have definitely wasted."

Nottingham looked absolutely affronted, but then his gaze flicked again to Belle, who was smiling at him primly although her blue eyes were shining with amusement. The Sheriff, on the other hand, looked furiously hungry and lustful, and his expression made the Dark One's curse snarl furiously. Rumplestiltskin didn't have to be able to see the future to know what Nottingham had in mind; for some reason, the oaf seemed to think he was entitled to a consolation prize because Rumplestiltskin chose not to do a deal with him. Thinking like that had to require a massive degree of self-entitlement, but Rumplestiltskin had met the type before. Nottingham had never encountered a woman he wanted and could not have, perhaps with the exception of this Marian who had married the outlaw he hated so much. He viewed women as objects, or at best, prizes to be won and possessed.

"Don't even think about it, dearie," he said softly and dangerously.

Nottingham's eyes jerked back up to look at him, and his anger over having been denied spilled over. "I deserve—"

Rumplestiltskin came to his feet, spell in hand, before he even finished framing his thoughts regarding his intention. His curse was nearly as possessive over Belle as Rumplestiltskin was protective, and it gleefully combined with his knowledge to craft a nasty and appropriate solution. Purple sparks filled his right palm, and he flicked his fingers towards the Sheriff in a simple and small motion that nonetheless made Nottingham stumble back a step as the sparks struck him square in the groin.

"What you deserve," Rumplestiltskin said softly, prowling forward on the balls of his feet, "is to never be able to lie with a woman again. You've both wasted my time and insulted my Lady here, and that means I will take something from you in exchange."

"You can't!"

He smiled nastily. "I already have. But"—he held up a finger as all the color drained out of Nottingham's face—"I am not unreasonable. If you find a woman who truly loves you, and one you love in return, you'll be able to adequately…preform."

The last work was accompanied by an unkind snicker; his curse both loved and hated the last caveat, for it provided for hope (easily dashed) and temptation (always fun to taunt people with). But Rumplestiltskin figured that Belle, even given how Nottingham had practically drooled on her, might dislike his elegant solution to the problem, so he decided to bend a little and add the last bit. But only if the thug-like Sheriff could actually learn how to love and earn love in return. Otherwise, Nottingham would be more impotent than a eunuch.

"Now go before I decide upon a worse fate for you."

Nottingham might have been a fool, but even he could take that hint, and he fled.

"She seems to think that she's going to win," Nottingham complained, and it took all of Cora's patience not to roll her eyes. She had invited the acting sheriff to her home for dinner, just for a chance to have a little chat, but now she was starting to regret that decision.

Oh, not the decision to choose Keith Law to fill the role his original self had in Nottingham. Cora didn't regret that in the slightest—he wasn't the best man for the job, not by a long shot, but he was a man who she could control. Cora knew Keith's weaknesses, knew his faults, and knew what drove him. She knew how to bribe him, who already had, and where he kept the nest egg he had assembled over the years. The situations that Cora hadn't set up she could still exploit, even now that time was moving and things were changing. People didn't change, after all, even if she cursed them into different aspects of their personalities, and she knew the key people in Storybrooke. Just like she knew Keith.

Cora still had the meticulous notes she had taken before casting the curse. She had spent months carefully recording facts about people who she intended to punish or use, months planning her revenge out down to the very last detail. She had never intended for time to start moving again, but she had always known that something would eventually change—and truth be told, she was rather satisfied with the challenge that faced her. Cora had always known that Rumple had inserted some loophole or another; had he not done something devious, her old teacher would never have let himself be swept up by the curse at all. Of course he had programmed a Savior into the curse. The only surprise was that he had told Regina enough that Regina could wake herself up and help her step-niece.

He set her up, Cora realized with a mental sigh. Rumple didn't have the patience to help Eva's annoying little granddaughter, so he used my daughter to do his dirty work. Not snarling out loud was hard. It was bad enough that Regina had chosen Snow instead of her own mother. Now she was letting Rumplestiltskin use her by proxy, and the bastard wasn't even awake to actively do so.

"Are you even listening to me?" Keith whined, and now Cora did roll her eyes.

"Of course I am," she snapped. "And Miss Swan is not going to be sheriff. Not in my town."

"So, you're going to rig the election." He sounded unsurprised and rather hopeful. Cora knew that Keith Law was no great paragon of virtue, and she hadn't even had to create him to be that way. No, Nottingham had been just as amoral and selfish before the curse. She hadn't needed to do any work on that front at all.

"Now, why would I do that?" she asked, cocking her head and smiling slightly.

"Probably because I'm not very popular."

Cora laughed. "You are a known quantity; she is not. And she's a former juvenile delinquent who gave birth to my grandson while she was in jail. I don't think that Miss Swan will offer you any competition at all."

Her smear campaign was already in the works, after all, and Cora still had plenty of control over Storybrooke. Emma Swan would not become Sheriff, not if she had anything to say about this, and Cora most certainly did.

15 Years Before the Curse

She had not expected him to show up, not the day after her glamorous and showy second wedding. Cora had been too busy to think about past lovers, even ones who still tugged on her non-existent heartstrings. She was an undisputed queen now, queen of one of the most important and rich kingdoms in all of the Enchanted Forest. Oh, it was her husband's kingdom, but he quite fancied himself head over heels in love with her—thanks to the dozen and a half spells Cora had wrapped around him—and would let her do whatever she pleased. Of course, magic could not make someone actually fall in love, but Cora wasn't looking for real, genuine love. Leopold had wanted to love her once, however, which merely opened the door for her to influence him, to crush his free will and make him believe he loved her. Doing so required constant care, frequent contact, and more than a little power, but Cora was certainly up to the task.

Still, she had not anticipated Rumplestiltskin's arrival, and unexpected events always put her on edge. Cora spun to face him as he invaded her dressing room, her hands up and magic charged in the air between them. At this point, she would not have been surprised if he attacked her, and she was not going to give up now, not when she had finally won. However, Rumplestiltskin made no aggressive moves; instead he leaned against a wall, crossed his ankles, and gave her an appraising look that stillcould send a shiver down her spine, heartless or not. But Cora was not happy to see him. She refused to be.

"What are you doing here?" she snapped.

"Admiring the view," he replied with a giggle and a flourish. Then the imp offered her a sarcastic bow. "Queen Cora. All your dreams have come true. Is it everything you thought it would be?"

"Everything and more," Cora replied, raising her chin imperiously. She had no regrets, even if Rumplestiltskin seemed to think that she should.

Why was it that every other man seemed insignificant compared to him? It had to be about power; in that respect, no one alive could hold a candle to Rumplestiltskin. That, and Cora had loved him. She really had, even if her own ambition had been more important to her. For several long months, she had been prepared to give up even her most cherished dreams to go with him, and that fact had terrified her. Cora had scraped her way up from nothing through sheer determination and spirit. She was not going to let go of her dreams just because her heart had betrayed her and fallen in love. Power was more important than love; love was only weakness.

"I hope it is, and that you enjoy this loveless marriage you've bought yourself." Dark reptilian eyes studied her intently. "And that you're prepared to pay the price of such magic."

Cora snorted. "I already paid the price," she retorted, thinking on how the horrible life she'd been born into would more than pay for a few love spells. "This is no more than what I deserve."

That made him laugh softly. "Is it now? Worth killing your dear husband for, then?"

"Of course."

She had always suspected that Rumplestiltskin had a hand in the way her first husband's older brothers turned out to be oddly resistant to any spells or enchantments that might harm them. Cora had tried everything she could find, and yet Henry's three older brothers clung annoyingly to life, as did his crafty and ruthless father. Eventually, Xavier had been succeeded by his eldest son, which hadn't exactly been what she had planned when she agreed to marry a fourth son. Had Cora been able to conveniently remove the other brothers from the equation—as she intended—she would have become a queen much sooner, and would have had a very pliable husband at her side. But those princes refused to die, and she was wise enough to recognize that as Rumplestiltskin's revenge. Jilting a man like him did not come without a price, although that was one that Cora was through with paying.

"Well, I can't say I mourn him," the imp giggled, and Cora shrugged.

"I suppose you would not."

Even the monster was human enough to hate the man she'd left him for, apparently, although he'd never done her the favor of removing Henry from the equation. That would have been much simpler than disposing of her late husband herself; there were already whispers in her new kingdom that Cora had a hand in Henry's death. Leopold, enchanted and besotted as he was, quashed such rumors every time they came to his ears, but they persisted anyway. Truth be told, Cora did not care if her new subjects thought her ruthless and cold. She was not out to earn their love. Eva, bitch that she was, had proven that the populace's love was meaningless. None of them had seen her for what she was, so Cora did not care what they thought of her. They were all fools.

When Rumplestiltskin did not reply, Cora floated towards him, extending a hand regally. "I thank you for the congratulations," she purred.

He scowled, batting aside the hand she'd meant for him to kiss. "Oh, I'm not here to congratulate you, dearie," her former lover's smile was sharp. "But I am here to offer you a warning, for old time's sake."

"Oh?" She arched an eyebrow.

"Indeed. Call it…a wedding gift." Rumplestiltskin danced around her, but Cora was all ears. If she had been able to somehow take a Seer's gifts, she would have, but for now she had to depend upon him. The Dark One continued: "That little stepdaughter of yours will lead to your downfall. The more you try to corrupt her, the more pure she will become." Another giggle. "As pure as driven snow!"

"Is that all?" she replied, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. Couldn't he have told her something useful? Cora shrugged dismissively. "I already have plans for Snow. By the time I am through with her, her heart will be as black as coal, and my daughter will be raised above her. Snow White is nothing."

"If you say so," he sang cryptically.

"I do."

"Then enjoy your life, Your Majesty, and reap what you sow," Rumplestiltskin retorted, offering her another hard-edged smile before disappearing.

Cora did not miss him. She did not let her eyes linger on the spot in which he'd last stood, and she did not feel anything for the imp she had once loved. She was queen now, and that was all that mattered. She could have the king Eva had stolen from her, ruin Eva's precious little daughter, and raise Regina up in Snow's place. Everything Cora had ever wanted to do was now possible, and she would not let anything stand in her way. Or anyone.

Walking in the crisp November air was just enough to help clear her head. Emma had asked Regina if she knew anything about "the Twins" or thievery stemming from Fagin's Group Home, but Regina had only looked at her blankly. Henry, however, seemed to wait until they were away from his adopted parents before explaining:

"They're a little older than me. Ava and Nicholas Zimmer. They're not mean or anything," he said. "Just orphans."

"I've been there, kid. It's no excuse."

"You weren't in a place like Fagin's, though," Henry pointed out. "It's pretty bad."

"So are a lot of group homes—"

"No, you don't get it," the boy cut her off. "The kids there don't have a choice. I think Mr. Tollak actually is Fagin, too, even if he doesn't know it. I mean, I know that Oliver and Company technically isn't a fairytale, but there are bits of it in my book, like how he takes in orphaned kids and then makes them steal for him. I think he's doing the same thing here."

Really? Now we're bringing classic novels into this town? Emma thought to herself. But maybe it counted because the classic Dickens novel—which she'd been forced to read in high school and hated because it hit far too close to home—had been made into a Disney cartoon. Either way, it was beyond weird. Even if Emma had to admit that there was definitely something fishy about Storybrooke, something otherworldly that just didn't fit in with the modern, normal, world she was used to, she still wasn't prepared to admit there was a curse that needed breaking. And she sure as hell wasn't about to absolve two juvenile thieves because some literary character 'made' them do it.

"Everyone has a choice, Henry," she told her son, feeling oddly parental. "Some of them are just harder than others."

"Not in Storybrooke," he replied solemnly, looking at her with big brown eyes full of faith. "The curse takes away choices and makes people worse than they are."

"You can't blame a curse for people's failings. That's excusing them for—"

"Miss Swan!" a new voice cut her off, cultured and slightly accented. Emma stopped and swung around to see a darker skinned man jogging towards her, dressed in cheap slacks and an ill-fitting dress shirt. His tie was askew and his eyes a little wild, but he had zeroed in on her like she was a target to be aimed at.

"Can I help you?" Emma asked cautiously. Who is this, the town crazy?

"Sidney Glass." He slid to a stop, panting, and then held out a hand. She shook it reluctantly. "I'm a reporter for the Daily Mirror."

"Nice to meet you," she replied slowly, snatching her hand back as soon as she could. If Glass was a reporter, he obviously wasn't a very successful one, at least judging by his clothes.

"Likewise." His smile seemed sincere, but Emma was still wary. In her experience, getting attention from reporters was never a good thing. "I've been trying to meet you for days. You're a breath of fresh air in this town, and—"

"What do you want?" Emma cut him off, unable to take any spiel where he tried to get in her good graces. She'd watched enough men do that over the years.

"I want to write an interest piece on you," Glass replied with refreshing frankness. "On your quest to become Storybrooke's Sheriff."

That made Emma blink. "Why?"

"Because it's high time we had someone incorruptible in that office," he answered earnestly. "Sheriff Graham was a good man, but everyone knew that Mayor Mills controlled him, even when he didn't want her to. She can't control you, and that's going to appeal to a lot of people. I want to be part of that."

"Really?" Henry butted in, and Glass smiled at the ten year old.

The reporter smiled, and Emma couldn't detect a lie in his response of: "Really. I think it's high time someone jerked Ms. Mills up short."

"That's so awesome," Henry gushed, glancing up at Emma. "You should let him! This will help you in your campaign!"

"It won't win you any points with the mayor," Emma warned Glass.

"I'm already her least favorite reporter. I've never toed the line she draws, and she's threatened to have my boss fire me several times," he said with a shrug. "Let me do this for you. I think I can really help."

Taking a deep breath, Emma decided to take a chance on this reporter. After all, Henry was right. This really could help her become sheriff, and she'd already sworn to herself that she was going to take Cora down a peg. Maybe Sidney could help her do just that. "Okay," she said slowly. "How do you want to do this?"

"Let's go to my office and start talking," he replied. "By the time I'm through with you, there's no one in Storybrooke who won't vote for you."

That bit of hyperbole made Emma snort, but at least Glass meant well. So, she and Henry went to visit Glass' little rathole of an office at the Daily Mirror, ignoring the hostile looks from his boss and settling in near his cubicle. Glass started off with simple questions, asking about her background, her experience in law enforcement, and just generally proving himself to be an honest reporter. He admitted that he was still looking for his 'hook', a tagline that made everything come together, but Emma supposed they had time. The election wasn't actually scheduled for another week and a half, and in a town like Storybrooke, that was eternity.

6 Years Before the Curse

The genie was the first man who had made her laugh since Daniel had been locked away. Were circumstances a little different, Regina might have even been able to fall in love with the genie who Leopold had freed from his bottle; he was sweet, funny, charming, and very obviously in love with her. But with her True Love still languishing in her mother's private dungeon—kept away from the palace, now, in a location that Cora kept hidden with magic—Regina could not afford love, so she hoped he would settle for friendship.

They were playing chess now, and Regina was laughing at some joke the genie had told. He really was quite brilliant, and old, too—though not in a stodgy way, just old enough that he'd been almost everywhere in the Enchanted Forest, and other worlds besides. It was wonderful to talk to someone who was so worldly, someone who didn't have Snow's innocence or her mother's cynicism. Sidney had been at the palace for over a month, now, and Regina enjoyed his company more every day. He was a breath of fresh air, someone to talk to with complaints she didn't want to burden her worried younger sister with. Poor Snow was growing more and more worried for her father, and as she grew older the princess was coming to understand how much danger she and Leopold were both in. Regina loved Snow dearly and would do everything she could to protect her, but sometimes it was nice to have someone else to smile with.

"Did she really live in a giant shoe?" Regina asked, smiling as she made her next move. Leopold had been kind enough to lend them his beautiful golden chess set, and the genie was winning.

"Of course she did!" he replied with a grin. "In fact, you should have seen—"

"Arrest him," her mother's flat voice interjected, and suddenly there were guards everywhere, grabbing the genie by his arms and hauling him roughly out of his chair. The genie yelped in surprise, struggling helplessly against the far larger and stronger men.

Regina shot to her feet. "Mother, what's going on?"

"You don't have to worry anymore, darling. You're safe." Cora didn't even bother to sound convincing as she moved to lay a hand on her daughter's arm; Regina detected triumph in her mother's voice, not concern. In fact, Cora smiled coldly as her guards, led by the heartless Huntsman, seized the genie and started to drag him away.

"I wasn't worried," she objected, yanking away from Cora. "We were just playing chess!"

"You cannot trust creatures such as this one," her mother replied. ""His goal has always been to seduce and dishonor you."

"My intentions are nothing but honorable!" the genie protested, only to have one of the guards hit him in the stomach to silence him. The poor genie doubled over, gulping painfully, until the guards hauled him upright once more.

"Mother!"

"Hush, Regina. We both know that you are particularly susceptible to dishonorable rogues who seek to use you," Cora said sternly, making Regina gape. The unveiled reference to the fictional story of how Daniel had 'kidnapped' her was enough to floor Regina, and she stared helplessly for a long moment before she found her voice.

"We're only friends!"

The genie looked a little crestfallen, but it was the truth. Her heart belonged to Daniel, and would as long as they both breathed. Besides, if such a truth could save the genie, Regina would use it liberally. Better his heart be broken than his life ruined, which she knew her mother was more than capable of doing. Cora, however, laughed at her defense.

"He is beneath you," she declared, and then gestured imperiously at the guards. "Take him away!"

"Yes, Your Majesty," the Huntsman replied with a strained bow that screamed how unhappy he was with the situation. Still, he gestured his guards to drag the genie away, which they promptly did, despite the way the genie shouted:

"I am innocent of all wrongdoing! I am—"

Another blow from a guard warped the words into a wheeze, and Regina winced. But there was nothing she could do. Even when she started to step forward, her mother grabbed her arm in a grip of iron and held her still. Cora's steely eyes watched her guards haul the genie off, and Regina never saw him again. She heard later that he had been executed, all for the crime of daring to fall in love with her, of daring to make her laugh. The genie had become a small ray of sunshine in her otherwise dark life, and that, apparently, Cora would not allow. Leopold, of course, did nothing to defend the friend he had made. He tried—Snow overheard him trying to convince Regina to let the genie go—but Cora overrode the King and had her way. As usual.

Years later, Regina found out that the Huntsman had saved the genie, braving Cora's wrath to release him from the prison that held him. Heartbroken, the genie attempted to reach Regina, only to be stopped by Cora herself. Desperate and proud, the genie promptly used the wish Leopold had given him, the wish he had been too proud to use to escape. So, he wished to always be there for the woman that he loved—but magic came at a price, and Cora was clever. Furious at having been thwarted, when she found that he had inadvertently wished himself into a nearby mirror, she cursed him to always see Regina without being seen, and eventually turned him into a miserable slave instead of the once-proud magical being he had been. The genie-turned-magic mirror would continually try to undermine her, but her enchantments held firm, forbidding him from betraying her…and forbidding him from ever contacting Regina.

A/N:Stay tuned for Chapter Sixteen—"The Unexpected", in which Henry tries to get Beauty and her Beast together, Emma tries to figure out what is going on with the Zimmer twins, and Emma gets a mysterious text pointing her at the asylum. Back in the past, Belle learns about the curse Rumplestiltskin has written.