A/N: Some dialogue taken from S1E11: Fruit of the Poisonous Tree.

The Box of Balefire appears in S3E1 of the Dungeons & Dragons cartoon, "Dungeon at the Heart of Dawn". Written by Michael Reaves, it originally aired on September 14, 1985. Shirley Bryan Yarns is a real company, operating out of Perth Ontario. It came into existence after 2011, but I couldn't resist! (The yarn in question is real, too!)

Chapter 34

"Uh-oh," Neal said, when Emma slid into the booth beside him at Granny's at lunch. "What's wrong?"

Emma shook her head. "I had a little run-in with Regina this morning, over at Henry's castle."

"His castle?" Neal repeated. "Maybe we should've moved in with him."

Emma gave him an irritated sock on the arm. "Play castle," she retorted. "And anyway, after what the storm did to it, if we'd decided to live there, we'd all be homeless right now; the storm did a real number on it. Think Marco could fix it?"

Neal smiled at that. "Sure, after we're done repairing some of the more serious damage around here. So, what happened?"

"Henry keeps his book buried there when it's not with him. Or with you," she added. "He's got a metal box buried at the base of one of the supports. So, while he was digging it up to make sure it was still there for when you give him back the book—"

"Yeah," Neal interrupted, "I'm almost done with it."

"Well, anyway, Regina pulled up and gave Henry some grief over missing a session with Archie this morning and then she gave me some grief for letting him anywhere near that structure after the storm was through with it." She sighed. "Wish I didn't think she might've actually had a point."

"How bad's the damage?"

"Pretty bad," Emma admitted. "I mean, I would've still checked it out when I was his age, but it's not like I really had people paying attention to what I was up to, once I got out of the house." She sighed. "Real responsible parenting, huh?"

"You'll learn. And he's smart. And Regina probably would've said something if you were both wearing helmets and goalie pads," he added and Emma smiled weakly.

"She told me not to let my feelings cloud my judgment!" Emma groaned, as Mary Margaret brought her coffee over and joined them. "It's all she ever does!"

"I hear you," Neal said.

"Regina?" Mary Margaret asked.

"Who else?" She quickly filled her friend in on her morning.

Mary Margaret clucked sympathetically. "She's just upset because you and Henry have a special place and she… doesn't," the schoolteacher said.

"How does she even know about it?" Emma asked.

"She's the mayor; she knows everything that goes on in this town," Mary Margaret said with a shrug. Her phone vibrated just then and she took it out to look at the text. At once, she pushed her chair back.

"Everything okay?" Neal asked.

"Yeah, I just… have to go," Mary Margaret said. "Look, if it makes you feel any better, I think Henry's doing a whole lot better since you two got here. Regina probably does feel threatened by that. I'll see you later."

After she left, Neal and Emma looked at each other. "That was pretty abrupt," Neal said.

"Yeah, and right after she was telling me Regina knows everything. Wish I knew how accurate that was."

"You're not still thinking…?" Neal's voice trailed off.

The truth was that Emma hadn't been thinking much about the town possibly being some sort of mind control experiment for weeks now, but Mary Margaret's hasty retreat, right on the heels of her disclosure that the mayor had eyes everywhere had brought those suspicious back to the surface.

"Not really," Emma said. "Well, a little. But maybe we should talk more about it tonight at home. I've got to head into the sheriff station."

"Yeah, and I've got to get back to Marco." He frowned. "You don't think Regina has something on Mary Margaret, do you? She got nervous right about the point she started getting critical of her. Mary Margaret getting critical of Regina, I mean," he clarified.

"I don't know," Emma admitted. The idea hadn't occurred to her, but maybe Neal was onto something. "And it's not just Mary Margaret. Everyone in town seems a little afraid of her." Almost everyone, she amended mentally, thinking about Gold.

"Not just because she's the mayor?"

"Possible, but I doubt it," Emma said. "Politicians get tons of flack normally; it comes with the territory. This is more."

"What, then?"

"Wish I knew," Emma sighed.

A horn honked from outside and Neal's eyes traveled to the window. "Marco," he smiled. "Guess I'm needed." He reached over to kiss her. "See you later."

"Bye."

Emma finished her coffee and was about to get up, when a voice behind her rasped, "I can grant your wish."

The curse was definitely breaking, Rumple thought to himself. The clock, the coffin, and now, the barrier. For how else could the motorcycle-driving stranger have come here, if not that the part of the enchantment meant to keep the town hidden from visitors was now beginning to erode?

It occurred to him that the weakening of that force might also mean that it was now possible for him to leave Storybrooke. If that were so, then perhaps he could already set out to find Bae! A moment later, he reconsidered. The barrier might indeed be weakening, but it might not be weak enough. Doom awaited anyone brought to Storybrooke by the Dark Curse who attempted to cross the town line. He had to remember that Emma and Henry did not fit that category. As for Neal, well, if he was whom Rumple suspected, then he wouldn't fall under that rubric either. And if he wasn't, if he was native to this realm, and merely someone who had forged an attachment with the Savior, she had left town to bring him here, after all. Henry had confirmed as much, that first morning. No test of the barrier's strength there. No, the stranger's arrival was far more promising on that front.

Still, even if one could safely cross the town line, Rumple realized, sobering, what then? The outside world was large indeed, and without magic, he had no idea where to start searching for Bae. Even if he found him… On impulse, he took out his phone, opened Google, and typed Bae's name.

Baelfire—Origin, meaning, popularity and related names… No, he wouldn't find his boy on a baby-naming site.

His heart leapt when his eyes dipped further down the page. The spelling wasn't quite right, but 'the Box of Balefire'? Apparently, it was a magical artifact that had featured on an animated television series that had aired not long before Storybrooke had come into existence. As he read the description, a disbelieving smile creased his featured. The box in question was designed to summon a being of immense Dark power. It took him some digging to uncover the names of the people involved with that episode. Bae's wasn't among them, but then it wouldn't be. He surely would have changed it to something less remarkable in this land. Still, the notion of a box that could summon a Dark being from some other realm… If Bae was working in children's entertainment, or if he had been at the time, then perhaps this was no coincidence. Perhaps Bae was hoping for a reunion as much as he was! If only he could be certain! He continued reading. The writer of the episode in question had a respectable list of credentials for a number of animated series, but try as he might, he could find nothing else to support the hypothesis that this "Michael Reaves" might be his long-lost son. Rumple filed away the information and back-buttoned to the search results.

His eyebrows shot up again at the first entry on the next page. It seemed that 'baelfire' was also the name given to a multicolored blend of merino, bamboo, and silk roving yarn. That also smacked of the sort of thing that Bae might be trying his hand with—a way of carrying on the family trade in some small part. He clicked on the website. Shirley Bryan Yarns seemed to have a staff of one—a woman named 'Beckie'. Bae might still be involved and keeping a low profile, though were that the case, it was doubtful that he'd use his true name for a product, particularly not a yarn. Unless he was hoping that somehow, his father would come searching! Hope buoyed his heart as he explored the website further. The company was based in Perth, Ontario. Canada. Another country entirely, albeit still a good deal closer than Los Angeles, where—at least, insofar as he believed—most animation studios were based. He wasn't even certain how he would find his way safely to another town, nor how to navigate it once he reached it! No, there could be no search until the Savior believed and the Curse broke entirely.

And then?

Well, then, it would be time to call in the favor Emma owed him, and if her young man wished to accompany them, then the more the merrier!

"Slow down, Emma," Neal said, holding up his hands, palms facing out in a placating gesture. "Now, what's this about Sidney? Isn't that the guy Regina hand-picked to run against you for sheriff?"

"Yeah," Emma said. "But that was before she got him fired. And before she bulldozed Henry's castle. Good thing you still have his book, because that metal box he kept it in met the business end of an excavator bucket." At Neal's blank stare, she added impatiently, "the… scoop. With those… teeth around the rim? If that thing turned steel into scrap metal, think what it would've done to paper!"

"Okay," Neal said, "but the book's fine. I'll give it back to him tomorrow. What's got you so upset?"

Emma shook her head. "Regina just… gets under my skin. She told me I had to 'learn my place' in this town, and suddenly, I was back to being in the System." At Neal's blank look she winced. "There was this one placement… I was only there for about a month. Anyway, it was in a really upscale neighborhood. Monster houses, most kids probably got sports cars for their sixteenth birthdays, you can imagine it. Anyway, I was upstairs when a… delegation of mothers came to the front door and gave Angie—that was her name: Angie Carrisford—grief about taking in a 'foundling,' i.e. me, and letting her go to school with their precious angels. And yeah," she added, "the phrase about me needing to 'learn my place' came up. I kept waiting for Angie to rip them all a new one. She didn't. She just made some half-hearted comment about how it couldn't really be that bad." She sighed. "Five days later, my social worker whisked me off to a group home and it was way the hell on the other side of town from that area."

Neal squeezed her shoulder. "Oh, jeez."

"Yeah. I didn't need those memories. Anyway," she took a breath and let it out, "Sidney says he's got something on her that'll prove she's been misappropriating council funds. Once that comes to light, she's done."

"So, what? He's going to publish an article?"

Emma shook her head. "Regina fired him. Or got him fired. Whatever; he's not with the paper anymore."

"Okay," Neal said, "so…?"

"So, Sidney and I get the proof we need and we tell the town at the next council meeting."

Neal frowned. "What kind of turnout do those meetings get?"

"I don't know, but it's got to be more than just Regina. If even one person is sitting in on the proceedings…"

"I'm not sure about this," Neal said slowly. "If things have been going her way for this long, she's got to have a few people on her side. I mean, if she's involved in something shady, and there's proof, it takes two people to make a deal, at the very least. Someone else in this town has to know what she's doing. Maybe more than one someone. Secrets like that don't stay secret for long. Rumors start spreading. Some true, some false, but they stick."

"That's what I'm telling you," Emma said. "Sidney knows what she's been doing."

"So then, why does he need you to dig up proof? Even if Regina got him fired from the paper, he's still a reporter, right? If he knows proof exists, it should be because he has it in his files, or he knows where to find it. He should be bringing it to you; you shouldn't be… playing Rina Lazarus to his Peter Decker."

"Who?"

"I have got to introduce you to Faye Kellerman's novels," Neal muttered. "My point is, maybe he needs law enforcement to arrest her, once he's got proof. Telling you that there's proof and then expecting you to help him dig it up… It smells like a setup to me."

Emma's eyes widened. "I don't… That's… that's…" That's a little too close to something Regina might cook up. How sure am I that Sidney isn't in cahoots with her? "My superpower didn't go off when he told me Regina got him fired."

Neal shrugged. "Maybe she did. Doesn't mean she didn't find him another job, or slip him some cash or something, right?"

Emma blinked. "Okay," she said slowly. "Okay. Maybe there's more to it and I'm letting my being pissed at Regina cloud my judgment. Maybe." She thought for a moment. "Look, I'm meeting him tomorrow around three," she said. "Makinland Road, uh…it branches off Main Street about a mile and a half from downtown and ends at one of the entrances to the wilderness park." She stopped. Neal had taken his phone out and his fingers were tapping on the screen.

"Okay, got it."

"There's a tunnel about two thirds of the way there. He'll be waiting at the far end. If you're not doing anything and you want to follow in Herbie and listen in…"

"Text him," Neal said. "Tell him something's come up and you need to make it for five. Marco and I should have the finishing touches done on the cannery roof by then."

Emma smiled. "Deal."

The following afternoon, Neal sat in the yellow bug on a dirt trail some hundred feet off of Makinland Road, listening to the conversation through the concealed wire Emma was wearing, and frantically texting notes into his phone.

Sidney was claiming that Regina had diverted fifty thousand dollars from the town budget—an amount that, quite frankly, struck Neal as miniscule, even in a small town. Evidently, Emma had the same thought, he noted, when her reply came through his receiver.

"That's it? That's what you have on her?"

Sidney insisted that the money was 'just the tip of the iceberg', and that once they figured out what Regina was up to, her scheme would fall apart. Neal frowned at that. Shouldn't Sidney already know? Fifty thousand dollars missing might be grounds for an audit, but as a reporter—former reporter, maybe—shouldn't he know that you didn't go around making accusations without hard facts?

"All right," Emma said. "What's your plan?"

Neal had to roll his eyes at Sidney's response. Sure. Let's ask the sheriff to violate Maine's wiretapping laws. Nothing shady about that. All the same, he breathed a sigh of relief, when Emma turned him down, telling him she wanted to do this by the book.

"She's going to know that you're on to her sooner than later," Sidney warned. "Are you prepared for her wrath?"

"Oh, yeah," Emma retorted.

To which Sidney replied, "Good. Because I wasn't."

"If you thought she was so terrifying," Emma asked, "how'd you end up in her pocket?"

There was a longer-than-usual pause. Then Sidney said sadly, "I used to think she was a different person. Look," he continued, "why don't we head over to the records office tomorrow morning at nine when they open? The information should be there; we'll just need to dig a little."

"Wait. 'Should'? You're not sure?"

Sidney was silent for a moment. "I came across the file in passing. When I started asking questions, that was when I was suddenly given fifteen minutes to clear out my desk. I'm assuming the information is just buried and hasn't been removed, but no. I'm not sure. And if it's buried, two sets of eyes are going to be better than one, when it comes to unearthing it. So. You in?"

"You know it."

Neal only wished that Emma hadn't sounded so enthusiastic in her agreement.

Neal waited for Sidney to leave before getting out of Herbie and making his way toward where Emma was parked. Without preamble, he opened the unlocked passenger-side door of the squad car and tumbled heavily onto the seat.

"I hate to say it," Emma said slowly, "but you could be right."

"Too convenient?" Neal asked with slight smile.

"Too convenient. It doesn't make him wrong, but I need to see his proof. And…"

Neal waited. "And?"

Emma looked down. "When he said that he and the mayor were done yesterday, my superpower didn't go off, but 'done' and 'through' aren't necessarily the same thing. I want them to be, but his turning up and offering to hand me Regina on a plate, just when I'm ready to… set the table," she winced a bit at the murdered metaphor, "it really is too convenient, isn't it?"

"That's what I was thinking," Neal nodded. "Mind you, I just arrived and you've been here for weeks. You know these people way better than I do right now. So, you tell me: how… honest… do you think Sidney's being right now?"

Emma exhaled. "He was her hand-picked candidate for sheriff. He's used his reporter job to do a hatchet job on me when I first came here, and a smear campaign when I ran against him. For him to mess up badly enough that she'd turn on him and get him fired," she frowned. "This is a small town. Shouldn't everyone have known the details about it almost as soon as she was done talking to him?"

"Well, gossip may not always travel as fast as all that," Neal said, "but you've got a point."

"All the same, if this isn't a setup, if Regina really did turn on him and he's switching sides, and he's got something on her… I mean, you were listening just now, right? What do you think?"

"I," Neal hesitated. "I think it sounds like you've got a little research to do."

"More than a little," Emma said. "You want to help us sift through the records tomorrow?"

Neal grinned. "Sure. It'll be like old times. Except I'd rather it was Ray instead of Sidney giving us this assignment."

Emma nodded and smothered a yawn. "It's not even dinnertime yet, and I'm feeling pretty wiped out. Want to get takeout at Granny's tonight? I locked up at the sheriff station already before I came out here, but we can swing back so I can leave the squad car in the lot and join you in Herbie."

"Takeout's okay for tonight," Neal agreed. "But tomorrow, I'm making us a home-cooked meal. Tacos sound good, or would you rather baked ziti?"

"Tacos," Emma said, after a moment's thought. "With loads of shredded cheese."

"You got it." He gave her a quick kiss. "Race you to the sheriff station?"

"Don't think I won't give you a speeding citation if you deserve it."

The days were getting shorter, Emma realized, as she parked the squad car and got out. The sun had already set and the sky was darkening rapidly. By the time she and Neal left Granny's, the first stars of evening were plainly visible. "I remember when you used to show me the constellations," Emma murmured, leaning closer to Neal.

Neal shifted the brown paper takeout bag to his other hand and wrapped his arm around Emma's shoulders. "We should do that again one night. I think I still remember them all."

"It's a date, Mister," Emma grinned.

As they reached the house and parked in front, Emma frowned. "Did you leave the window open this morning?" she asked.

"No," Neal said slowly. He and Marco had taken down the boards and put in new glass two days earlier, but he knew he wouldn't have left them open now that the temperatures were changing. With some trepidation, he turned the house key in the lock.

Emma breathed a sigh of relief as she did a quick walkabout and noticed that nothing seemed amiss. "Maybe I did and forgot about it," she said. "Nothing looks like it's missing."

Neal wiped his brow theatrically. "I'll just grab Henry's book now so I can drop it off to—" He stopped. "It was here on the kitchen table. Did you move it?"

"No," Emma said slowly. "Could it be somewhere else?"

"I doubt it," Neal replied. "But let me just check the bedroom."

It was more than ten minutes before he returned. "I tried a few other places I thought it might be and it's not in any of them."

"Well, it's got to be here somewhere," Emma said. "I mean, books don't just… grow legs and walk away."

"No," Neal said. "But they can get carried away through open windows." He shook his head. "But who breaks into a house just to steal a book?"

Emma sucked in her breath. "If I had to make a guess?" her voice was nearly a growl as she rapped out, "Regina."

Note: When I was looking for more information on Michael Reaves, I was saddened to learn that he passed away this year. He wrote for so many series that I've enjoyed in the past, including (in no particular order) Dungeons and Dragons, Batman: The Animated Series, He-Man and the Masters of the Universe, Jem, and Tiny Toon Adventures. I'm sorry that he's gone, but I'm grateful that for the hours of entertainment that he and his work gave me. Thanks, Mr. Reaves.