Summary: Emma helps Jefferson reunite with his daughter at a tea party. Set after 1x17, Jefferson did not fall through the hat. Emma/Jefferson. One shot for now.

Rating: K+

Pairing: Emma/Jefferson, Jefferson/Paige (family)

A/N: I have now officially boarded the Mad Swan ship. Truthfully, I ship Jefferson/Hatter with anyone he's come in contact with so far. I hope this lives up to par, and I would appreciate any feedback as this is my first Mad Swan fic!

"Good afternoon, Miss Swan."

Though Jefferson's words appeared cordial, Emma could hear the biting anger as he glowered from the cell in which he sat, his foot tapping angrily against the floor. She sighed heavily, shrugging off her jacket and throwing it over her chair, before walking to the cell door. Jefferson did not stand, and instead met her eyes with dark, furiously murderous ones of his own. "Jefferson-"

"It's rude," he snapped, "not to say good afternoon back, Miss Swan. Didn't anyone teach you manners?"

"Didn't anyone teach you that kidnapping and attempted murder are against the law?" Emma returned, crossing her arms. She frowned slightly when he laughed at her remark. "I wouldn't laugh if I were you, Jefferson. You're going to be in here for a long time."

"I've done much worse than kidnap someone, Emma," Jefferson told her with a shake of his head. "Much, much worse."

"Then why weren't you in jail at the time you kidnapped us?"

His eyes turned dark as he met her gaze again. "Because the crimes I committed did not take place in this world." When she rolled her eyes, scoffed, and turned away from him, Jefferson quickly stood and walked to the bars. Clutching them, his face only inches from hers, he reminded her, "There are other worlds out there Emma. All you have to do is believe."

"You're a crazy son of a bitch."

"I'm not the mad one," he clutched the bars so tightly his knuckles turned white. "You are the mad one for not believing."

"Look," Emma finally argued, growing agitated as she sat down at her chair, "I came here to help you, not debate if magic is real or if other worlds can actually exist."

Jefferson stood straight, curious. "What do you have to show me?"

"Doesn't matter." She watched as he attempted to shake the bars, like that would pry them free and not only give him a chance to escape, but be enough leverage for her to reveal what she was hiding from him.

"It does matter," he told her calmly after a moment of silence. "Or you wouldn't have brought it up."

"If you can't control yourself, which you obviously can't, than I don't think you handle what I'm going to show you."

Jefferson frowned. "Don't play games."

"You do," Emma countered. "I'm just giving you a taste of your own medicine."

"I never dangled freedom in front of your face," Jefferson growled. "What you're doing is a dirtier kind of trick. It's cruel."

Emma sighed softly, rubbed her temple, and met his angry gaze. "You have to promise me you won't jump out of your skin, Jefferson. If you get all crazy on me like before, this isn't going to work."

"Fine," he huffed, discomforted by the loss of control and the power she held over him by a few simple bars which, in another world, wouldn't have held any power against him.

"You promise you won't go crazy?"

"I promise."

"You can bring her in now, Mr. Grace!" Emma called back to the entrance of the sheriff's office.

She watched Jefferson with peculiar interest, momentarily transfixed by the way he recoiled from the bars and stood like he'd lose his balance, his eyes glazed over in wonder. Even from across the room, she could swear his heart beat out of his chest as Mr. Grace escorted his young daughter Paige into the sheriff's station.

The man eyed Jefferson, who couldn't take his eyes of Paige. Turning to Emma, he nodded toward Jefferson and asked wearily, "He won't cause any problems will he?"

Emma shook her head. "No, sir. He's promised to keep his wits about him. Paige will be perfectly safe here."

"Okay," Mr. Grace agreed reluctantly before bending down to his daughter's eye level. Fixing her scarf, he told her, "Now you be good for Sheriff Swan, all right? I want to hear all about what you'll learn today tonight at dinner."

"Okay, Papa!"

Emma could see tears in Jefferson's eyes at the young girl's remark; her heart nearly broke when Jefferson mouthed the word. Even from across the room, she could feel the strain and wondered briefly if this man really thought this young girl was his daughter. She hadn't believed him during their exchange at his house - and still thought he was a crazy man - but she could give him this moment of peace if it was what he needed.

It only helped that Henry had remarked Paige was interested in police work. It was the perfect set up for this little exchange.

Emma protectively put her hands on Paige's shoulders, smiling as Mr. Grace kissed his daughter's forehead before walking out of the office. "Are you ready for a tea party, Paige?"

Paige looked up at Emma and nodded quickly. She eyed Jefferson carefully, who now gripped the bars like they were the only thing that kept him standing. "Who's he?"

Emma heard the soft noise that escaped Jefferson; it was one thing to understand his daughter would never remember him, but it was another thing to witness it. "He," she told Paige kindly, "is going to join our tea party. Is that all right with you?"

"He won't hurt me, will he?"

"No!"

Shooting Jefferson a stern glare for the outburst, Emma answered Paige's question with a smile, "No, Paige, he won't hurt you."

"Okay!" Her hair shook as she nodded. "He can stay then!"

Emma smiled. "Good." Walking over to Jefferson, Emma pulled out the keys to unlock his cell door. As she jingled them, hunting for the right one, she told him in a hiss, "You have ten minutes. Do not make me regret this."

"You won't," Jefferson answered with a shake of his head. With all of his heart and more, he whispered, "Thank you."

"Ten minutes, Jefferson."

"Ten minutes is the best I'll ever have," he responded. As soon as the cell doors opened, Jefferson wasted no time in rushing to his daughter, who offered him a warm smile. Awkwardly, he offered her his hand and told her, "You can call me Jefferson, Paige."

She shook his hand, returning his smile. "Okay, Jefferson." Paige tilted her head at him. "Have I met you before?"

Jefferson grinned. "Maybe in a far off place when you were younger." Tenderly, he let go of her hand, reaching out to tuck a stray hair behind her ear. His grin morphed into a full, genuinely happy smile as he asked, "Why don't we have that tea party now?"

"Yes, please!"

"I'm glad your parents have taught you some manners." Jefferson looked back at Emma. "At least someone here has them."

Emma rolled her eyes. Even when she was doing a good deed for a man who didn't deserve it, he still treated her with contempt. Part of her vaguely wondered why she was even doing this for Jefferson, but then she remembered Henry, and how she would have killed for a moment like this. It hit her suddenly, moments later, that was exactly what Jefferson was willing to do.

He would have killed her and Mary Margaret to have his child back in his life again. He would have killed, like she would have done for her child.

"You and I," Jefferson reminded Emma quietly once Paige was off to grab the tea set, "you and I are very much alike Emma."

"Ten minutes," Emma reminded him, hoping he couldn't see how flustered she was.

Jefferson hadn't noticed, too consumed with his joy for at least ten minutes with Paige - at a tea party, nonetheless - where he didn't have to worry about watchful eyes. It would be just like old times when all that really mattered was making it home in time for tea time, sitting next to his daughter and her stuffed animals.

He had missed this, needed this so desperately.

And when Paige was pouring her own tea five minutes into their encounter, Jefferson took the moment to glance up at Emma, who watched them carefully from her sheriff's desk.

He smiled at her, warm and grateful for the first time. Thank you.

Emma returned his grin. You're welcome.

Calling the ten minutes up was torture for Emma. It hurt even more when she returned from her office after Paige's father picked his daughter up.

Her heart broke to see him leaning against the bars, his body shaking from tears he had tried so long not to shed.

The show of emotion stunned Emma so strongly she asked, "You...You really think she's your daughter?"

Jefferson glared at her, not bothering to wipe away his tears. "She ismy daughter, Emma. No curse or separation will ever change that. She's mine."

"Your curse is living in a world where you can't be your daughter's father?"

Jefferson nodded. "And that's the worst curse imaginable."

Emma sighed softly, running her fingers through her hair. The pain, desperation, and agony in his eyes leveled her, and she couldn't help but feel bad for him even though he had tried to kill her. "I...I suppose I can see if Paige can come back."

He eyed her, distrusting. "And why would you do that, Emma, after all that I've put you through?"

"Because..." Emma walked over to him, reaching her hand through the bars to take his hand in her own. "Because I know what it's like to be separated from your child. And no one should ever go through that."

He met her eyes finally. "Thank you, Emma."

Emma squeezed his hand in response, returning his smile. Maybe there was hope for him yet, and maybe he wasn't so crazy after all, but a man who would stop at nothing to have his child back in his life.

She could understand that.