Emma wasn't sure Grumpy was the person who broke into Regina's home. He didn't strike her as a sneaky man but rather the type to charge into battle right after declaring war.

In conclusion, she wasn't holding her breath that an interrogation with him would do more than prove it wasn't him. As there was only one person in Storybrooke who did do it and hundreds who did not, she hardly bounced with optimism or excitement for hunting a needle in a haystack.

Her dull-as-could-be meetings had been taken care of before she loped off to find the man she'd first met in her neighboring jail cell.

The first place she tried was the nunnery. Only because Mary Margaret had babbled so long ago about Leroy's "improper crush" on the nun. He wasn't there, but still she asked to see Nova.

Mother Superior was in midst of telling Nova what a lousy fairy godmother she'd be when Emma loped in. With her back to Emma, Emma was alarmed to hear what social workers had informed her ages ago was "mental abuse". After ascertaining she wasn't mishearing, Emma cleared her throat. Mother Superior halted the unfair barrage and left the two to chat.

With her back to Emma, Nova enlightened, "I don't know where Dreamy is! Blue has been riding me so hard to be a fairy godmother, I haven't had time to see him. Frankly, she's sucked the joy out of my dream, and now I'm no longer excited about it." Picking up a winged key, she inspected it briefly before setting it down in its original place. "He's not the type to solicit company. I did hope with the curse broken, he'd find me and we'd go sailing, but the one time we made eye contact at Granny's, Blue broke it up."

Emma didn't think to ask her mother because she'd rather forgotten her mother was Snow White and Grumpy was one of eight dwarves. This bounced right over Emma's head.

Thus, she visited every bar in Storybrooke, thinking of Grumpy as "the town drunk".

The first bartender replied, "I don't know where that filthy S.O.B. is, but after the way he talked to me the last time I saw the likes of him, I hope he never shows his face in this bar again." He took the time to spit.

The second bartender was immensely friendly and sweet to Emma until she told him she was looking for Leroy. Suddenly, his sweet smile dipped down and exited the building. "Are you friends with him?" His voice had gone hoarse.

"No…I'm looking because I'm the sheriff," she showed off her badge, "and I need his help with a case." She was trying not to be too specific in case she started rumors. Not that the loudmouth couldn't do it himself.

"Well, isn't that ironic." He mopped his forehead and tightened his mouth. "I called the cops on him last time he was here. Graham took him out…in handcuffs."

The third bartender she visited swiveled his head and informed her coolly with his hands clasped behind his back, "His money is no good here."

Emma was driving her yellow Bug back to the station, one hand clutching the wheel, the other palm flat against her forehead, when her brain did a U-turn.

It was the radio. Making an announcement asking listeners to call in with who in Storybrooke they felt was "the fairest of them all".

Admittedly, Emma was only half-listening. But she heard the fourth caller because she was chewing on something that made her sound like an elephant eating peanuts.

"It's Snow White—Mrs. Nolan—of course. Isn't that what she's known for? That and her seven disciples?"

The radio host corrected, "It's dwarves."

"Whatever! Either way, they love her! They will follow her down to a muddy dungeon to fight two dragons and six werewolves."

"I believe that's how she met them, in King George's jail cell."

Instead of the sheriff's station, Emma drove to her mother's apartment. Since it was summer, school was out; Henry was with Snow. Regina thought he was volunteering at a kids' craft center.

"Don't you have friends your own age?" Emma joked. Knowing the answer. Nah, Henry was a lone wolf, like Emma.

Henry smiled patronizingly. "I was discussing the book with her." He closed it. "How are you, Mom?"

"Frustrated. I need a round of onion rings." She hugged the almost eleven-year-old.

"How'd it go?" Snow wondered casually, taking the book from Henry and flipping to a page with a drawing of Charming from the neck up. She studied the image then started smiling uncontrollably. She tried to hide it behind her glass of water but wasn't successful.

The vigilant kid leapt from his barstool. "How'd what go? An operation?" His eyes sparkled and cheeks rosied up.

"Kid," Emma barked. Her stomach growled ferociously. "You need friends your own age."

Sympathetically, he said, "You need food. You want some onion rings and a grilled cheese from Granny's?"

"They're out of onion rings."

A bit disappointedly, he offered, "Let me see what I can do…but I'd like to know what you two are up to." He headed out of the room.

"Three," Snow, the blabbermouth, blurted without thinking then cringed all over herself.

Henry perked up. "Charming knows? I'll get to the bottom of this…and offer a mission name."

Then he was gone.

"It did not go as planned." In a quiet voice, Emma gave her mother a brief summary of what happened, finishing with, "So now I need to find Grumpy."

Snow was silent for a second. Raising her gaze to the ceiling, she remarked, "Actually, he's a very hard worker. That's why the curse made him 'the town drunk'. But I agree, he's too outspoken to do something as sneaky as break in her house—and probably doesn't know how to pick locks." Wracking her brain, she licked her teeth. "Oh! No, wait, that was Stealthy smashing his axe through the prison door." Swiveling her head apologetically, she admitted, "I've got nothing. But if he can pick locks, why not pick himself out of prison?"

Carefully, Emma voiced, "But he does see her as the Evil Queen."

"Eh, true."

Emma's heart beat fast with anticipation. "Do you know where he is?"

Offhandedly, Snow slumped back in her seat. "In the mines. With the other dwarves."

Emma hit the side of her forehead with her palm. "Gotta go!"

At that moment, Henry appeared in the doorway with a brown paper bag for Emma and milkshake for himself.

Emma could smell the onion rings. "Henry, you're a lifesaver." Snatching the bag like a famished wolf, she hastened to open it and crammed four onion rings in her mouth at once. Chewing with her eyes closed, she moaned with ecstasy.

Her stomach was doing a standing ovation.

After swallowing, Emma's eyes popped wide. Flexing her muscles, she rasped, "I'd better find Brutus. I heard he tied Olive Oyl to train tracks."

As she swung her hips out the door with the rest of the grub clutched in her fist, Henry called after her, "You'll tell me everything later. I may be your kid, but I'm also your best friend!"

Swinging the door shut, she smiled to herself. She heard the truth of his words. Sure, she'd befriended Mary Margaret, but before she came to Storybrooke, she had no friends. And she had shared everything with Henry…

Well, not everything. He still thought his father was a dead fireman. But it was okay. She hadn't seen Neal in over a decade. He could be dead for all she knew.

Her heart panged. Not all she cared though. She didn't want to and had been wrestling it for years, but she'd finally privately accepted in spite of his betrayal, she loved him and always would.

Damn it.

Into her car, she ducked.

On the drive, she crammed her mouth full of food. Her stomach purred appreciatively. All her problems felt like they were resolving themselves with the aid of grilled cheese and onion rings.

Down in the mines, she found six dwarves working hard—and none harder than Grumpy. He was dripping sweat and growling, "Curse you, Blue!" with each blow of his pickaxe.

Not, "Curse you, Regina!" but "Blue". Emma didn't know whether to be upset or relieved it didn't look like Grumpy could possibly be the person Emma was looking for.

Though he was no stranger to jail, so she wasn't writing him off that easily.

"Grumpy!" she called. Her voice was carefree thanks to the grub and hardly possessed a commanding note. He lifted his head anyway and turned to her, askance.

"Daughter of my Queen and King. What is it you require of me?"

Emma cringed. "There was a break-in at Regina's place. I need to take you in for questioning."

The rest of the dwarves fell silent. No longer working, they looked at each other warily. Grumpy dropped his axe to the ground and staunchly asserted, "I have nothing to hide, so do your worst." He followed Emma to her vehicle.

In a businesslike manner, he informed her, "I'd rather jog to the station."

Emma nodded her agreement. The two of them headed to the station in near-total silence.

When they arrived and stepped into the building, Grumpy stopped in his tracks.

"Of all the people in Storybrooke," he mused with a creased forehead, "why are you pulling me in?"

"Because," answered Emma with half a cringe, "Regina seems to think if Gold lacks a motive—and he does—you're the only person who is capable of breaking into her home." She stepped into the station. Grumpy was just about to ponder if he should take that as a compliment coming from Regina when Emma shook his world. "Besides me."

Silently, Grumpy followed her to the interrogation room while digesting her statement. When they reached the interrogation room, he eyed the chairs uncertainly. "Are you going to take everything I say as evidence against me? Do I need a lawyer? I don't mind going to prison for a crime I committed, but…I'm not going for a crime you committed. You're the one who gave birth in a prison."

Earnestly, Emma informed him, "I don't think you did it. But maybe if you answer my questions honestly, you can accidentally lead me to the real thief."

Grumpy arched his brow with the interest of a loudmouth. "So they stole something? Nope, wasn't me. If I'd broken into the Evil Queen's home at night," he pointed excitedly at Emma, "you can bet your ass I'd take a pillow and smother her in her sleep."

Emma scratched her earlobe. "Well, that's not what I call a confession, but do you mind if I jot that down?"

Grumpy waited in silence for her to do that.

Staring down at her pad, Emma wondered, "Where were you last night after sundown?" Lifting her gaze, she used her Lie Detector on him, though she felt sure she didn't need to.

Grumpy clenched his left fist and rubbed a sore spot. "Who remembers exactly what they did the night before? Besides criminals and boring people," he amended quickly.

"Try to re—is your hand sore? Can I look at it?"

Grumpy frowned as if he were biting into a rotten prune, but he handed his fist over.

Emma's heart beat so fast that she had to shut her eyes. It felt like Tinker Bell was stuck in there. "H-how did you get this?"

A sourpuss, Grumpy snapped, "How do you think? Someone's hand slipped and cut me with their axe. Didn't it occur to you this job gives a man injuries? We aren't babies about blood, or we wouldn't play with axes." Posture firm and eyes hard as rocks, Grumpy enlightened, "You play with axes, and you get cut."

"Sleepy?"

"No, Bashful. Though Sneezy once was the most accident-prone."

Emma nodded thoughtfully. "I can see that."

"But as Tom Clark, he's as graceful as a swan," Grumpy lifted his arms and arched his neck to demonstrate, "and wouldn't touch a sharp object with a revolver."

"Okay," she jotted it down then clutched his wrist. "Do you have any other wounds to back up your claim?"

"No, but Doc has a few. Whassa matter? Your superpower making my nose look big?"

"No, but faith in my superpower won't hold up in court. I need hard evidence."

Scornfully, Grumpy admonished, "What court? This is Storybrooke, not Boston. Get your facts straight." Raising his copper arms behind his head, he leaned back in his seat.

"Can we take your blood?"

He blinked. This was plainly not what he expected her to ask. "Why?"

"Because," she began then hesitated, unsure she wanted him blabbing all over town.

He lifted his bushy eyebrows to assure her if she kept details from him, he was not complying.

"Because the person who broke in…left blood when they stole."

"Ah. Sure, if it proves I'm innocent, you can draw my blood or cut me with an axe. Screw a lightbulb into my head. It's neither here nor there for me. I want no drama, thanks." He cleared his throat heartily. "In that case, I'll be off."

"Not so fast, Mister," she growled, more playful dog than bear. "I've still got questions, and I won't be asking the wall."

He cocked his eyebrow. "After the pillow-smushing thing I said, how do you still have questions?" He touched a table leg with the tip of a sneaker so he could rock himself backward and forward by a mere twitch of his foot.

"Um, well…plainly you're a stranger to interrogations."

"When King George tossed me for the swindled diamond, he didn't ask many questions. And Graham did a breath test. Didn't toy with me. You were a cat in a past life—weren't you?"

Emma snorted. "I never thought my Patronus was a kitten, so…I don't think so. Anyway, you can't remember what you were doing last night after sundown?"

"Yeah, I was hacking Regina's front door in with an axe so I could burn her house down, but Billy distracted me, so I cut my hand on her mantel…"

Emma pushed on his nose. "Alright, enough goofing off. I have a grilled cheese buzz your horror story is on the verge of killing. As…oddly specific as you're being, there's no way that's true. Whoever was in her house did not cut themselves on her mantel."

Grumpy leered. "You know you're dying for me to paint you a picture of me hacking Regina in her sleep…" Then he stopped and grimaced. "I just pictured it." He shuddered. "Gross!"

"Do you have anyone who can vouch your whereabouts after sundown?"

Grumpy narrowed his eyes. "Look, kid. I love your parents with everything I've got in me," he dropped the foot he'd been using to rock back and forth to the floor. "But I know what you're going to say if I tell you the truth."

Emma challenged, "Try me."

Holding both feet sturdy, he leaned forward. "I was with my buds, but I can't tell the judge that. He'll think they're covering for me."

"You admit there's a judge?"

Grumpy shrugged. "Of course there's a judge. Court might be a joke, but there's still going to be someone pocketing the money Regina's spoon-feeding him."

"So you think Regina's framing you?"

"No, what I think is that sometimes people are so desperate to put a face to a crime, they ignore the evidence under their nose."

"What evidence?"

He beckoned at her then said slowly, "The blood." Her face flushed with embarrassment. Returning to his normal speed, Grumpy continued brusquely, "Which can't possibly be mine, unless Regina uses a spell. Any further questions, officer?"

"Stop making me…" Emma wracked her brain. "Have you ever blacked out?"

Grumpy's eyes hardened. Icily, he demanded, "Are you framing me?"

"No…it's…Regina seemed so sure only you or Gold…"

"She's barking up the wrong tree. Because Rumple and I," he made a queasy face but quickly bounced it off, "are the two people brave enough to stand up to her face." Firmly, he enlightened, "Whoever did this was brave enough to stand up to her behind her back."

Poising her pen over her pad, Emma asked, "If you were spending time with your brothers, what were y'all doing?"

"Roasting the Evil Queen."

Emma let go of her pen. "I'm not writing that," she decided, wiping her sweaty palms on her jeans. Her head spun. She didn't believe Grumpy was guilty, but she had a nasty feeling in the pit of her stomach that if she didn't prosecute the dwarf, Regina was going to blow her top. And when she did, a volcano would probably form, and Lews Therin Telamon might weep for Ilyena…

Grunting, she shrugged out of the Wheel of Time thoughts beckoning her.

Smirking, Grumpy asserted, "Of course you won't. You're faint at heart. We were very busy last night, daydreaming of all the things we'd love to do to the viper. My favorite was Bashful saying he wanted to give her a swirly then eat an ice cream sundae off her head."

"Not with the amount of hairspray she uses."

Grumpy clicked his tongue. "It was still a nice thought."

"'A nice thought' is Tinker Bell granting your wish," Emma dissented, but she decided to cut the guy a break. "How about tying her on a motorcycle then revving it up?"

"Sure, if Sleepy was driving, it'd be a riot. All the sleep he lost because her curse made him too anxious to sleep…"

"Alright," Emma decided. "I'd better let you go. Don't forget to drop off a blood sample. You can go now."

"You know," Grumpy mused, half-rising from his chair but stopping, "the thing is…Regina was indeed an evil ruler."

Remembering Graham, Emma coughed into her sleeve. "No kidding."

"…but I don't have a personal grudge against her. My hatred for her is mostly on Snow's behalf.

"Rumple reminded me of what woman I do have a personal grudge against."

Emma blinked. "Who's that? Mrs. Claus?"

"It's not funny. I'm talking about Blue."

Emma's heart sank. "You mean…?"

"That's right. The head nun herself. Granted, I know if Regina wants to burn this town down for fun, she'll do just that. I am not happy Rumple got her magic back. But if we're talking personal hatred…" He closed his eyes, remembering the dream of sailing away with Nova. "I despise Blue." Reopening his eyes, he muttered, "Love takes away emptiness. Nova fills me with love, and my brothers encouraged us. Blue is a heartless priss who can't see how beautiful love is because she is dead inside.

"And if I were to sneak in anyone's home late at night, you can bet it'd be hers."

Emma was puzzled. "Then why are you working with her?"

"Not with. For. Because she can help the town. But mark my words—she doesn't care about Nova or me or anyone or anything."

He finished rising to his feet. Headed out the interrogation room but paused over the threshold and mumbled, "I wouldn't put it past that sanctimonious moth to try to put Regina in her place…but not like this. Sorry, Emma, no one I know would do this…maybe it's someone Regina whizzed off who keeps to himself. A loner type."

When he was gone, Emma took out a notepad and pen, mulling his words over. Who had a personal grudge against Regina?

Picking up her phone, she dialed Mary Margaret. "Hey, tell Henry to get his butt over here…and bring the book, please. I need it; it's very important."

On the pad, she wrote "loner type with vendetta against Regina". Then she waited for her son.