"Coming," Emma called to the door, careful to cradle her baby brother as she stood up. He could sleep through almost anything, but like all babies, was still unpredictable about waking and she wanted him to stay asleep. He was entirely comfortable with sleeping on her lap, watching late night action movies while he was supposed to be sleeping in his bed and she was supposed to be watching with the volume way down. What her parents didn't know wouldn't hurt them. Siblings were supposed to have secrets together anyways. It was a thing, or so she'd heard. He snuffled in that baby way that sounded more like a puppy than a human and settled against her chest as she opened the door to someone she definitely hadn't been expecting.

"Regina?"

"Emma, I'm sorry."

Emma shifted her feet, trying to hold the door open with one hand while she held her brother against her with the other. "You okay?"

"Are your parents home?"

"Date night," Emma said, indicating her brother with her chin. "Just us kids. You want to come in?"

Regina hesitated. Her breath made little clouds in the air, like smoke around her head. "I hope I didn't wake him."

"You didn't," Emma replied, shaking her head and stepping aside to motion in. But Regina didn't move. Instead she fidgeted on the doorstep until the kid started to squirm, like he might wake up and Emma retreated in, walking toward the kitchen. The sound of Regina's footsteps followed and Emma heard the soft click of the door being shut. In the kitchen, Regina looked at her hands then back up at Emma, uncertainty all over her face.

"I should go."

"No, stay," Emma offered. She probably sounded too eager. She didn't want to scare Regina, who seemed to be a breath away from poofing out of the apartment. "It's just me and the kid and my movie's really awful."

Regina didn't step back, and some of the tension in her face faded. "I didn't mean to-"

"You're not interrupting," Emma promised. She shifted the kid in her arms and let the terrible film go on without her in the living room. "I've seen it, a bunch of times. Storybrooke's cable doesn't have a lot of variety."

"You could change that, you know." Regina still hadn't taken off her coat, but she hadn't left. Maybe she needed the company. She hadn't said why she was here, but she seemed relieved to see Emma.

"What, magic myself up a better movie?" Emma rocked back and forth, willing the kid to stay asleep. Regina was clearly upset, grabbing on to the banal conversation about movies and cable way too easily. Emma smirked. "Would it work all over town, or just on my television?"

Regina peeled one of her gloves off, finally starting to smile. "Knowing you, it'll probably be the entire eastern seaboard."

"Yeah," Emma agreed. "Want some tea?"

Regina's second glove fell the to the island, and she carefully removed her coat. She hung it over a chair, holding it as if letting it go was a great sacrifice.

"Maybe something stronger?" Emma meant the offer as a joke.

Regina's hands trembled before she rested them on the countertop. She stared at her fingers, then looked up."Hmm?"

"You look like you need a drinking buddy," Emma replied. She pointed towards the cabinet. "Whiskey, top shelf. Glasses are in this one." She shifted the baby's weight again. The little guy could be really damn heavy sometimes. "You want to hold this chubby little guy and I'll get the glasses down?"

"No," Regina said, her voice suddenly sharp. "No," her tone softened, almost wistful. "I should go."

"Regina, wait."

Across the island in the kitchen, Regina's shoulders slumped and she turned back to Emma. "I don't know if I can talk about this with you."

"I won't judge you," Emma said.

"I know," Regina agreed, and the tension in her shoulders melted, if just for a moment. "You don't judge me, I just." She set down the bottle of whiskey. "It's complicated."

Emma reached across, pulled off the top and then took a swig from the bottle.

Regina winced, then smiled, but there was a heaviness in the way her face moved, like the muscles were sore. "I'll use a glass."

Emma shrugged and headed into the living room. Baby brother probably wouldn't let her sit down again, but she could be optimistic.

Regina took down two glasses from the cupboard and poured, adding a few fingers of whiskey to each. She carried them over and set one on the coffee table in front of Emma. "How's babysitting?"

Emma grabbed the remote and shut off the film because Regina needed her full attention. "The kid will sleep through action flicks and explosions, but sometimes I stop moving, he wakes up." Emma hovered by the coffee table, then decided to risk putting him down in his basinet. He settled, calm for the moment. Her hands finally free, Emma reached down for her glass of whiskey. Just smelling it made her smile. At least her dad bought the good stuff. She got a sip before she set back down the glass and sat next to Regina on the sofa. Something was bothering her. Emma didn't need a superpower to see how fragile Regina was.

Regina sat neatly, hands in her lap, but she held the whiskey like a lifeline and didn't drink. "I want you to know that I'm not holding things back because I don't trust you. It's just, some secrets aren't mine."

"It's okay." Emma smiled at her, wishing she could reach her and make her feel safe, somehow. "You can be obscure if you need to be. I just don't want you to feel like you have to deal with whatever it is alone."

"Thank you." Regina stared at the glass, then downed it quickly. She took a breath, stiffening. "Maleficent's returned from the dead."

Emma nodded, her parents had announced that. She'd had a drink with her dad after her mom had gone to bed. Was this why Regina was upset? Was Henry in danger (again)? It would explain why Regina was so shook up, but that didn't feel right. Maleficent had no reason to go after Henry, and Regina didn't seem worried in that way. She wasn't being protective.

"Is she angry about the whole dragon slaying thing?"

Regina blinked at her, as if that being in recent history had suddenly occurred to her. "That? No, she doesn't hold grudges about little things like that."

Emma blinked, relieved but still… "Me killing her was a little thing?"

"I trapped her in a cave for twenty-eight years and we've come to terms. Mal seeking revenge on you is not something you need to worry about," Regina said, making a dismissive gesture.

Lifting her glass, Emma tilted it towards Regina and grinned even more. "Well, good."

Now Regina actually smiled, though it faded nearly as soon as it appeared, but it was sweet. "I don't want you to worry."

"If you say I don't have to-"

"You don't."

"Do you?" Emma asked. Standing, she walked to the kitchen to grab the bottle, coming back and pouring Regina some more, in case she needed it. Regina's hands were still trembling, but not in anger, not in fear- Emma couldn't place what was bothering her.

Regina's eyebrows narrowed and she stared at Emma, confused, as if she hadn't heard the question. "What?"

"Is she angry with you?"

Regina picked up her glass and gulped it all down again, wincing less this time. "No."

"Okay. So she's not after revenge." Emma leaned back on the sofa and tried not to sigh in relief. Regina wasn't lying; she could tell that. "Is she seeking redemption, like Ursula and Cruella?"

Regina sat back wearily, and for a moment, Emma almost put her arm around her, just enough to hold her still. "No."

"Then what, Regina?"

Regina filled her own glass with another few fingers of whiskey. "She's looking for her child."

"Her child?" That wasn't in the book. Why was the damn book so full of holes? "Are we talking about a baby dragon?"

The joke was weak and Regina didn't smile, instead she set down her glass, defeated. She reached up to brush her face, and Emma realised that she was fighting tears. "No."

"What is it?"

Little Bro - she still couldn't call him Neal in her head – picked that exact moment to start to mutter, then squawk and Emma jumped up to grab him, cursing his timing. She'd been optimistic putting him down. If he didn't fall asleep in his bed, he was terrible at staying asleep there. Sure enough, the little guy started to cry and Regina shuddered, as if the sound of him cut through her. She stared at the floor, down through her hands.

Emma picked up the baby and walked with him, bouncing him a little and whispering to him until he quieted. He would insist on being awake for awhile, but he wouldn't cry if he kept moving.

Regina stood. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't be-"

"No, look, whatever it is, you obviously need to tell someone. You're here, I'm obviously going to be awake for awhile. Tell me. You can trust me."

Shutting her eyes, Regina wrapped her arms tight around her chest as if that could protect her. "Maleficent's child."

Emma would have given anything to hold her instead of the baby. "Who's missing."

"Her child was lost in the curse, my curse." Regina's voice kept softening, full of regret and a sorrow Emma still didn't understand.

"And she's pissed about that?"

Regina's lips opened and shut twice before she found words. "I suppose you could say I was the father."

Stopping and staring, Emma forgot to bounce the little guy until he started to cry again. Regina reached for him, almost on instinct, and Emma handed him over, letting her hold him as tears came to her eyes. All Emma could do was stare as Regina swayed, rocking the baby in her arms. Of all the possible confessions, this wasn't one she'd ever imagined.

"You and Maleficent had a dragon baby?" Emma finally managed, still stunned. "I thought that only happened on magical Japanese cartoons Henry keeps watching on Friday night." She was trying to lighten the mood, but her lame attempt at humor had the opposite effect, and Regina's face crumbled. Her control faded. Blinking back tears, Regina moved away, still rocking the little guy as if she'd done it a hundred times.

Cursing herself, Emma softened her voice. "You're good at that."

That seemed to work because Regina's shoulders softened. "He's just like Henry."

Emma had wondered how much her brother looked like Henry; if Henry had cried the same when he was scared or lonely. Regina had been there for him, and that made it all a little better. She toyed with what she wanted to ask first. Her words fought in her head, and somehow she managed to blurt something incredibly stupid. "So, you're a magic baby daddy?"

Which was not the deeper question of Maleficent and Regina having a history, that kind of history, which meant Regina had been with a woman (and might be again). That went deeper than Emma wanted to admit she even felt, or thought. It wasn't important now anyway, Regina was upset, really upset, and she had to do something.

Little Bro's blankets absorbed enough of his various fluids to be fine for tears, and Regina was trying so hard to hold them back, but Emma couldn't imagine what she felt. She'd given up Henry knowing he went to a better life, this baby, child, adult, was lost. Being lost in this world was uglier than the fairy tales.

Emma stroked Regina's shoulder, forgetting that touching her might be too intimate. Regina didn't pull away and Emma had to force herself not to smile. "How is that even-?"

"Maleficent's not human."

"Obviously," Emma replied. She kept rubbing her arm, waiting for Regina to finish. "And the dragon?"

"That's part of her, but not all of her. She's, well, she's incredibly old. Her magic is ancient."

"So it's part of her magic? You being able to-"

Regina sniffed, almost hiding behind the baby. "I didn't think I could."

"Well yeah," Emma agreed, grinning a little. "I wouldn't imagine that it popped into your head."

Finally, Regina reacted the way she would. She gave Emma that look that meant she was being ridiculous, which Emma had been waiting for and was relieved to see. "No, I, I mean I knew about that. People with magic can accomplish extraordinary things. I didn't think it could happen to me. I'm not exactly… the birds and flowers type."

She still didn't get it. "It's related to flowers?"

Regina calmed, slowly, and little Bro seemed to like the way she bounced him. Emma wished she could hug her, however stupidly. No one had hugged her when she'd found out she was going to be a parent, and Regina needed that. Especially if her child was missing.

"It's not like flowers," Regina tried to explain. "Magic is, emotion; intent. I was very angry then, dark, full of pain that I wanted to spread everywhere. I didn't think-" she paused and the grief on her face was so deep that Emma wondered if her tears were coming back. "I never thought, I could make any kind of life. I made people suffer. I ripped out hearts. Even with someone as powerful as Maleficent, I shouldn't have been able to create life."

"And you're sure that she's telling you the truth?"

Regina nodded, her voice flat. "Maleficent wouldn't lie to me. I don't think she ever has." Then, she shut her eyes. She took half a step closer to Emma, and somehow Emma's hands were on both of her shoulders and they were swaying together again, little Bro in the middle.

"You know that's not you now," Emma insisted. "You're a protector. You were willing to let that big Balrog-hellbeast-"

"Chernobog."

"That big guy, go after you. You helped protect the town from Zelena, and the Snow Queen. You're not hurting anyone now."

"I could," Regina reminded her, and that guilt stabbed into Emma's stomach. When would she stop feeling so awful for the past? It didn't seem to bother Gold.

"Probably not holding prince chunky there," Emma teased.

"He is heavy, isn't he? I swear he's bigger than Henry was at this age." Momentarily distracted, Regina met Emma's eyes.

What was it, gratitude? Calm? Fear that even while holding a baby she was someone just waiting to turn evil again? "I think you'd be a good daddy."

Regina nearly rolled her eyes. They started to move, then she stopped. Passing little Bro back over to Emma, she took a step back. "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For dumping all of this on you."

"Regina, it's not dumping. You found out you have a child that you've never met, who's missing."

Regina's tone was cool again. "If she's even alive in this world."

Emma's stomach twisted. She never quite understood the magic that brought them to here. If Maleficent's baby wasn't in Storybrooke, where was she? Was she here, somewhere, trapped? Was she in the outside world? Having to ask was pathetic, but she said it. "Shouldn't she be?"

"If she was in the Enchanted Forest when I cast the curse, she should be here. If for some reason she wasn't there-" Regina trailed off. She brushed her hands against her trousers, then retreated towards her coat.

Emma followed her, rocking little Bro, who didn't seem that thrilled about being back with her instead of with Regina. "Hey, are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

"It's okay if you're not. Believe me, I know how it feels to have a kid turn up and make your world a mess." She tried to be light, to smile, but she couldn't get through. Regina's shields were up again. Her pain was in her shoulders, her arms, the way she held herself so upright.

"It's not as if she turned up, is it?" Regina grabbed her coat. "Thank you, Miss Swan, for listening, and thank you for the drink."

"It's dad's."

"Then pass my gratitude to David."

Short of putting herself between Regina and the door, there really wasn't anything Emma could do to stop her from leaving. She wanted to follow her out, but little Bro didn't deserve to be dragged out into the night. "If you need to talk-" Emma finished, knowing how weak an offer it was. She didn't know anything about magic babies, or curses, or how that would make someone go missing for years.

"Thank you," Regina repeated, and Emma nearly did take little Bro out after her. "I'd prefer it if you didn't mention this to anyone. I'll tell Henry, of course."

"Let me know if you want back-up for that."

Regina nodded once more, and lingered, as if there was something else she wanted to say. Then she pulled her coat on left. The door shut and Emma stared at the neat black gloves still sitting on the kitchen island. Picking them up, she tucked them into her own coat pocket, then corralled the glasses. David wouldn't care if she drank some of his whiskey, but she didn't want to talk about Regina's visit. She had just poured the leftover whiskey into her glass when the keys moved in the lock and her little brother began to cry, as if he could sense that his mother and the chance of a real midnight snack was there.

She finished Regina's whiskey, only half listening to her parents. Regina and Maleficent had a history. Regina had a history with women, at least, part-dragon women. That did something to her heart that was far more optimistic than Emma was really ready to admit. She didn't know Maleficent, at least, not in a form where they could actually speak to each other, but the more she thought about how awful it must have been, shut away in a cave, unable to even look for her child-

She made her excuses about being tired and left. Granny's wouldn't still be open, but she could go sit in the Sheriff's office for a while. No one would care if she sat at her desk. Since she'd been drinking, she walked to the station, watching the fog curl along the ground. Regina was a father, well, second mother? Donor mother? What were the words for that? Would there be books about it in the library? Did she dare ask Belle? How was she even going to phrase it?

She'd walked past the Sheriff's station when she realised there were feet on the sidewalk beside her own. Feet in expensive shoes that weren't Regina's, or Gold's.

"She told you." The woman beside her was tall, dressed in an impeccable grey suit. Something Regina would have liked. Her blonde hair was up neatly beneath her hat, and she was easily several inches taller than Emma. Even without the height, something about her was imposing. Like Regina could be, but deeper.

Emma kept her hands in her pockets, trying to stay calm. She didn't want to give off any sign of confrontation. "You mean Regina?"

"She's the only woman on your mind, isn't she?"

Emma's face burned. How could she be blushing? At least it was dark, and this woman, whomever she was, couldn't read minds, could she? No one did that, did they?

"I wanted to make sure she was all right when she teleported away," the woman replied. "I may have been a little blunt and she's never been the best with emotional news."

It would have been more collected if Emma hadn't said it, but the words fell. "You're Maleficent."

"And you're the saviour who killed me, yes," she said, waving her hand as if already bored. "Shall we talk?"

"Talk?" Emma swallowed.

"Regina went to you when she was upset, you now seem equally rattled. Would you like to discuss it, or would you prefer to run to your parents and arrange my downfall?" Maleficent tucked her own hands back in her pockets, as if mimicking Emma's stance would calm her. She didn't seem dangerous, but so many people never did at first.

"You followed her?"

"I did, yes."

"Because she was upset?"

"She left in a hurry," Maleficent explained. Her breath hung in clouds in front of her mouth, as if she was much warmer than the cold air. "She has a history of rash behaviour when she's upset."

"We all do," Emma said, surprised by how defensive her tone was.

Maleficent cooed her amusement, but the way her teeth clicked was sharp, somehow wrong, considering that she appeared to have very normal, human, teeth. "So, saviour, ready to go?" Dark smoke, nearly black, swirled around Maleficent's feet and Emma realised that they weren't going to be talking in the street.

Emma nodded, forgetting her concerns. Maybe she'd learn things that could help Regina, or at least make it easier to understand what she was going through. Perhaps Maleficent wanted her help. She was good at finding people, she always had been. The hope of finding Regina's child whispered through her, just for a moment, and she smiled.

The way Maleficent smiled back sent cold fingers down Emma's neck. Though she couldn't deny the danger Maleficent posed, Emma trusted that she wasn't a threat to her, at least, not directly. She hoped.

The night faded into deeper blackness, and they vanished from the street.

They reappeared in a lonely living room. It felt empty, stale, like a tomb. The furniture was dark wood, old, and the fireplace on the wall was huge and black. It was beautiful the way the stones on the edge of the sea were. Trees whispered in the woods around them and except for that it was silent. Maleficent blew lazily, as if putting out a candle, and the fire sprang to life. Then she tapped a switch and the lights came on.

Emma blinked. She'd almost expected candles, not electric lights. "This is your house."

"It's not a castle by any means, but it'll do." Maleficent took her hat from her head and hung it near the door. She removed her coat and waved a hand towards the pegs for Emma. Her hand didn't have claws, and Emma wasn't surprised, not really. "I suppose it's the least Regina could do."

Was that fondness in her voice? Were her and Regina friends still? Was there affection? What had been between them and what was left? Regina hadn't been concerned about Emma killing her, but that was to save Henry. She would have done anything; they both would have. Was that why Maleficent didn't hold a grudge? Was it that she wasn't really dead?

Hanging up her coat, Emma followed Maleficent over to the fire. Her host took the oversized armchair. It was old, large and intricately carved, with wood so dark that it could have been stone. Maleficent sat in it like a throne, but that seemed right. Emma sat across from her, on the fairly normal sofa and tried not to feel like her posture, jeans, and general appearance wasn't entirely inadequate to be here. It was a lot like Regina's living room. No wonder they'd gotten along, once. Still? She thought of Neal and wondered which one of these two had done the lying that led to their break-up.

Fighting down something that Emma was not going to call jealousy, she studied the house. It was all dark, blacks and reds. Not particularly inviting. It was a cool place, like volcanic rock allowed to set.

She'd missed Maleficent getting up, yet there was a drink in front of her. As Emma expected, it was hot, but the smell was unfamiliar. Spice hung in the steam but she couldn't place it.

"It's not poison," Maleficent promised. She sat up and her clothing rustled like scales. "But if you want me to drink it first, I will."

"That's okay," Emma said, trying not to seem ungrateful. She took a sip. It was spicy, some kind of tea. "Thanks."

Maleficent's slight inclination of her chin was Emma's acknowledgement. "Now then, was Regina all right?"

The way Regina had trembled in her hands still stung in her memory. "Rattled," Emma said. "Confused."

"That's understandable."

"Is it?"

Maleficent sat up, leaning closer to Emma. "I would be right to assume that you've learned magic from Regina, Rumplestiltskin, and from that book."

"And some from the fairies."

"The fairies," Maleficent repeated, smirking. "You mean the charming little convent of nuns in blue? Funny how here they're all blue, instead of all of them simply beneath the foot of their blue leader."

"Are you a fairy?"

The fire flickered, and the shadows made appear horns in Maleficent's hair. They weren't there, not really, yet they were. Now that Emma really looked, there were curved, dark horns on Maleficent's head. "No dear, but we're about the same age. It's not important what I am, or even how Regina and I had a child. What's important-" She faltered. The confidence in her voice melted, vanished like smoke in the wind. Maleficent sat back, hiding in the shadows of her chair. "I want you to know that I didn't tell Regina about our child because she was different before."

The yearning in her voice was worse than Regina's. This baby had been wanted. Whatever, she was, however she came to be, Maleficent had wanted to keep her. Emma knew what that felt like. She still had the memories Regina had created of her fake life with Henry. Emma knew what it was to hold him close. Maleficent had lost that. She'd lost her baby. She'd hadn't given her away so she'd have a better life, she'd been taken.

Emma nodded, trying not to look too close. Her own eyes burned and she didn't think Maleficent would appreciate her tearing up. Maleficent's voice had the same gravel as Regina's, the same buried suffering. "I know, I mean, I haven't seen much, but I've heard. She was different here too, at first."

"Perhaps she's more herself again now," Maleficent wondered. Control oozed from her again, as if she could have lashed out and ended Emma in a moment. Maybe she could.

"I don't know. I think she's made a lot of progress."

Maleficent chuckled. "She's not the Evil Queen, that's not her, never has been. She's Regina, and she's getting back to that."

"You don't think she's evil?" Emma had been expecting some kind of evil power couple of the past. She was almost disappointed.

The firelight reflected in Maleficent's eyes, or perhaps there was fire within them. Either way, they flashed vivid orange-red. "Regina was angry. She wanted to cause pain because she lived with too much of it. Evil doesn't enjoy pain, evil hurts others because it doesn't care what happens as long as it gets what it wants. True evil is selfish, saviour. The pain of others only means something to you when you know what pain is."

"I'm sorry."

"You're sorry?"

It was a stupid thing to say. Maleficent didn't want to be pitied. No one did. Emma started to apologise for apologising and stopped herself before she really sounded like an idiot. "What can I do?"

"What makes you think that I need you to do anything?" Her voice was cool, forcibly without emotion.

Emma knew what that sounded like. She sounded so much like Regina, when she'd given up. No one should have to give up. "I'm good at finding people."

"That's sweet."

Being patronised hardly bothered Emma anymore. It happened so often. "I am."

"Now what would your parents think if they heard you offer to help me?"

Emma sat forward and looked Maleficent right in her glowing eyes. "Why wouldn't I offer to help you? You lost your child. No one should go through that."

Leaving her chair and walking towards the fire didn't leave any shadows to hide the tears on Maleficent's face. Maybe she didn't care. "While I appreciate your offer, that is not why I asked you here."

"Okay."

Running her fingers along the edge of the fireplace, Maleficent stared down into the flames. "I didn't tell Regina about our child back in our land because she wasn't ready to hear such things. She wouldn't have taken it well. Here, now, she's different. She's more herself. I've had years with my grief. Hers is new. You care about her, so if you must do something, comfort her."

She never should have touched her, but Emma wasn't thinking. She put her hand on Maleficent's shoulder. She didn't know how to say that helping wasn't limited to one person at a time, or that even if Maleficent didn't want her understanding, she had it. To Emma's surprise, there wasn't an immediate puff of smoke, sending her away to the darkest cave of Storybrooke, or a fireball throwing her across the room. Maleficent's hand touched her own, her skin hot and dry from the heat of the fire.

"I know it sounds empty, and stupid, but I am sorry. I gave up my son so he could have a better life, and he ended up with Regina, and I can't get over how lucky that was because Henry's had a good life." Emma said. She was rambling now, but Maleficent hadn't burned her to a crisp, so maybe it wasn't the end of the world. "That was damn hard, and I know he's okay. I can't imagine-"

"Nor should you." Maleficent turned and looked through her, because her eyes weren't cold and empty, or even distant. Her grief was so near and palpable that the air stung in Emma's throat. "Good night saviour." She squeezed Emma's hand, only slightly, then sat down in front of the fire.

Emma got the idea that she was supposed to show herself out. She grabbed her coat and made sure she still had Regina's gloves. She didn't have a flashlight, and she didn't know where the hell she was in the forest, but it seemed rude to ask. She stood there, watching Maleficent in front of the fire, forgetting that she'd been sent away. She could imagine Regina loving her. When she loved, Regina was every bit as fierce as Maleficent, and just as strong. Had they been happy? What were they like together?

What was Emma supposed to have in common with ancient creatures and women who'd lived through at least two of Emma's lifetimes?

"You don't know how to teleport, do you?" Maleficent asked, breaking Emma's thoughts.

"I haven't learned it yet," Emma said, sheepishly looking down at her boots. "Sorry."

"You haven't been taught it, saviour, there's a difference. You can't really expect to learn how to turn yourself into smoke all on your own, can you?" Maleficent stood from the fire, wiping her hands together. "Think of where you want to go. Picture it in your mind. Imagine yourself standing there, being there, as if you've just stepped through a doorway."

"I don't usually step through magical doorways." Emma shrugged. She wasn't going to learn it right this second, was she?

Maleficent put her hands on her hips and Emma was suddenly aware that this was a lesson, and she'd better be paying attention. "See yourself there, then step through."

Emma shut her eyes. She imagined the library. There would be books there that could help. Maybe something about curses, or magical pregnancies, or dragon fairies older than time-

Maleficent sighed, more exhausted than annoyed. "Concentrate on the place, saviour, or you'll end up scattering yourself into pieces amongst those random places your thoughts are bouncing between. We'll be picking pieces of you out of the forest for weeks."

Regina wouldn't like that. Emma saw her, standing in her lonely living room, maybe looking at pictures of Henry. Was she worried about her baby? Was she angry? Did she think the baby was dead? Was she alive, somewhere, Emma's age?

She heard Maleficent say something.

"Close enough."

What was close enough? Was she getting it? Everything went white, the same white that Emma's magic always was. Was Maleficent helping? Was that why Emma wasn't scattered across Storybrooke? When she opened her eyes, she stood in front of Regina's front gate. The light was on and she could just see Regina through the window. She sat in the living room, alone.

"This is so not the library," Emma chided herself. She touched her coat, making sure she was all in one piece. Regina's gloves were in her pocket and Emma took them out and held them. The leather was so soft and smooth in her hands. She could put them in the mailbox and let Regina find them tomorrow.

She didn't, because it would be better if she returned them personally.