A/N: for the time line of this fic, it's placed around the very, very, beginning of Darkness on the Edge of Town (4.12), and thus is considered plot divergence from that point forward.

I.

Where Emma Meets the Family

Everything had returned to normal in Storybrooke again. It took two weeks for Emma to finally settle into the idea that, maybe, for once, life as the Saviour could be easy for her. There were no evil witches parading about, no dragons she needed to slay, no kidnappings, or curses, or complications (other than the barrier that bordered the town, a souvenir of the Snow Queen's recent attempt at muddling up Emma's life). Finally, she had accepted a routine into her life again, without constantly looking over her shoulder for someone trying to stab her in the back.

First thing in the morning, she would grab her coffee from Granny's, before heading to the station. Usually, halfway between her apartment and the restaurant, Killian would meet up with her, walking with her until they reached the library, where he and Belle were looking for a way to release the fairies that, under the hand of Rumplestiltskin, Killian had captured in a magic hat. (Maybe things weren't exactly normal, in the sense any average person would appreciate, but by Storybrooke standards…) With a chaste kiss the two would part ways, and after coffee was collected, Emma would arrive at her desk for work.

Work, which usually amounted to filling in papers leftover from the disaster most recent to befall the town, talking to David, and then to patrol around in the cruiser to ensure no crimes were being committed.

Which meant that work was a whole lot of nothing for Emma these days.

And in a way, she appreciated it. The peace was a welcomed change. No portals, no rampaging mythical creatures, no witch hunts to put a halt to, just quiet, quiet Storybrooke. But, deep down, Emma yearned for excitement to return. She would push that out of mind though; what kind of sadist was she? After the years she'd spent cleaning up messes, solving problems and defeating evils, Emma deserved a break. She should have been thrilled to be able to spend time with Henry again, or her parents and friends, without some imminent doom breathing down all their backs.

But still, she was the Saviour. As well as the daughter of the great adventurers Snow White and Prince Charming. She probably had some adrenaline junkie tendencies woven into her DNA with all that in her family history. And just practicing her magic every now and again with Regina, or picking up a sword the odd time she was starting to feel a little rusty wasn't really cutting it.

She arrived at the sheriff's department the same as every day; two black coffees and mentally preparing herself for the boring papers she'd be filling out 'til noon. She placed one of the hot cups on her father's desk, and David smiled brightly at her.

"God, how do you do that?" She groaned, plopping down at her desk and jolting her desktop screen awake. David gave her a confused look.

"Do what?"

She gestured generally at his face. "Keep up all that… that, y'know," she huffed in frustration, "charming disposition."

"You sound like you're in a good mood this morning," he chuckled, turning back to his own stack of work, pen in hand.

"What, you don't find things monotonous lately?"

David laughed sharply. "Not at all, actually. I, for one, like the peace. You're starting to sound like your mother, Emma. She was always looking for adventure."

"I'm not looking for an adventure," she insisted, "I'm just looking for something to happen. Like, I don't know. Busting some kids for skipping class. Or littering. Anything that isn't paper work."

"I'm sure something interesting will rear its head eventually, Emma."

"You make it sound like a bad thing," she muttered to herself, before resigning to her busywork for the day.

Reliably, it was nothing unexpected. The paperwork required signatures and filing, but not much more than that. The curse set by the Snow Queen had left the town a bit of a mess, and both the fighting that took place in the office itself and the violence amongst the town folks had the Sheriffs' work cut out for them. Incident reports and reorganising scattered files all had to be done, and the only way to do it properly was also the most meticulous way. Even with two officers, the work was taking a long time and it went slowly. Emma glanced up at the clock, hoping to see that it was time for lunch, but it was barely quarter to eleven. She was about to turn her pen back to paper when the phone rang.

Both she and David startled, so rarely was it that the station phone went off. Exchanging a glance, Emma tentatively reached for the receiver.

"Storybrooke Sheriff's Department, this is Sheriff Swan."

"Hotel Olympia," the voice on the other end said simply, in a feminine monotone. "Please come, sheriff."

"What?"

Instead of a reply, Emma was met with the call end tone. She looked over to David again. "That was weird."

"Weird usually isn't a good sign. Who was it?" David stood, approaching Emma's desk to look at the call record on her computer monitor.

"I didn't recognise the voice, and they didn't leave a name or anything. They just said to go to some place called 'Hotel Olympia'? You ever heard of it?"

David frowned. "No, never." He pointed to the monitor. "I'd guess that this is the address though."

"This is a bit suspicious isn't it? A call from somewhere we've never heard of, from someone we don't recognise."

"Of course it is, but we should check it out anyway," David sighed. He grabbed his jacket off the back of his chair, and grabbed the keys for the cruiser before stopping to wait for his daughter to join him. "Well, looks like you got your wish, Emma."

Emma could have sworn she'd been through the part of town the address led them to a hundred times before and had never seen this "Hotel Olympia" before. It was actually a really nice building, three stories and the front decorated with wide marble columns. The white of the building would have been blinding in the late morning sunlight, if it hadn't been for the ivy growing up the walls. The entire thing was surrounded by an iron fence, and the front was a lush garden, everything in full bloom – even some flowers Emma didn't recognise growing anywhere else in town. She could have sworn that some of them weren't actually in season, though she had never considered herself any sort of gardener. Around the back of the building she caught a glimpse of a pool wrapping around the rest of the yard.

"Fancy." She stood with her hands on her hips, admiring the hotel from the sidewalk.

"And old," David remarked, pointing to a plaque attached to the fence, reading the name of the building with a subtitle of est. 1876.

"Well, that can't be true, right? Regina's curse only lasted for 28 years."

David only shrugged in reply and pushed the gate open. "Well, it definitely looks its age."

Emma followed him up the cobblestone path to the heavy doors. They were painted white, and groaned argumentatively as David pushed them open.

The lobby inside lacked the brightness and cheer of the exterior. It was dimly lit, with no windows. Beside the door was an apartment listing David skimmed over with furrowed brows. There were potted plants scattered around the lobby, as well as mailboxes that looked like they hadn't seen any use in a long time. To the right of the room was an archway leading to a separate part of the building. Beside the service counter was a carpeted stairwell, the steps looking worn out. From up the stairs echoed the distant sound of an argument, which Emma guessed may have been the reason for the call. Emma took a step toward the counter, which a man and woman stood behind.

The pair were both astoundingly beautiful, which took Emma by surprise. They were also complete opposites of each other; the man with black hair and skin paler than Emma had ever seen before, while the woman had warm, brown skin and dark honey coloured hair. The woman stood over a potted plant, hands extended around it, with her mouth opened in surprise. The man, leaning against the wall behind her, had a blank expression other than a raised eyebrow.

"Hi," Emma started, awkwardly, pulling her badge off her belt to show them, "I'm Sheriff Swan, and this is Sheriff Nolan," she waved toward David. "We received a call from here? It didn't say anything much about an emergency but –"

"You shouldn't be here," the woman cut in sharply. Her expression turned dark and she took her hands away from the plant.

"What?" Emma frowned, crossing her arms.

"Ma'am, someone at this address called us at the station," David stepped up beside his daughter. "We need to know what the matter is before we can do anything."

"There is no issue here, and no one called you." The woman leaned forward, crossing her arms and staring Emma down in particular. Though she was nearly a foot shorter than Emma, she was intimidating in a way that chilled Emma to her bones. Beside her, the plant's leaves started to shake and turn brown, curling in at the edges. "You both need to leave, immediately. Before he finds you."

"He?" This whole conversation was going no-where. "Lady, we received a call and by law, we have to find out why. You're behind the service desk, can't you just, I don't know, look up the outgoing calls from the building?"

"I'm telling you that no one would have called because there are no phones, except this one," she pointed to the one beside her. "I've been here all day. But, even so, no one would have called you, you're…" She stuttered to a halt as the man reached out to grab her shoulder.

"You need to go." He said, almost so quietly Emma couldn't hear, but in a voice so deeply menacing she felt compelled to follow his order. Unfortunately, she was more stubborn than that.

"Who is this he you're talking about?" Emma demanded again.

Before she could get an answer from either clerk, a huge man stormed down the stairs, a woman following him as fast as she could in the heels she was wearing, both yelling back and forth the entire time. If the two behind the counter had been beautiful, this couple was ethereal.

"One more word from you, woman," the man boomed, stomping across the lobby toward the door, not noticing the audience, "one more and I am leaving this building and never returning!"

"Good!" The woman's body shook in hysterics. "You can go shack up with some whore as you've always been so fond to do! Be my guest! This family is better off without you and the interference of your bastards!"

The man whirled around, face contorted in rage as he turned on his wife. The argument came to a halt though, as he noticed Emma and David standing by the counter, eyes narrowing. Glancing back to the couple of clerks, both had paled, the man to the point of looking ill. If she had to hazard a guess, Emma would bet that this fellow was "he".

"Who, may I ask, are these two," the man drew up to his full height, rage turning from the boiling anger he had directed at his wife to a quiet, deadly sort. Both Emma and David instinctually took a step back.

"We tried to get them to leave, sir." The girl was wringing her hands together.

The man directed his attention to the male clerk. "Brother," his tone was chilling, "you couldn't get them to go?" The dark man shrugged in reply.

The woman's voice was shrill as she spoke up, saying, "you both had only one job! Make sure the mortals don't find us! Is that so hard?"

Mortals? Emma looked over to her father, looking for some answers. As the man's anger built, the room started to grow muggy, smelling of ozone, like a storm was about to break out in the lobby. Emma finally found her voice, managing to manage a small-sounding, "what the hell?"

Everyone's attention turned to her, the wife's lips thinning to a sharp line. "You dare address us?" She raised her hand in a way Emma recognised, about to cast a spell. She raised her own hands in preparation to retaliate, but before either could cast, a fifth stranger entered the lobby.

"Hera, sister, be reasonable." The interloper was a curvaceous woman with a warm smile.

Hera dropped her hand, frowning deeply. "Hestia. This does not concern you."

"Of course not," Hestia's warm smile never faltered. "However, I feel that turning these mortals into your peafowl would not benefit us in anyway." She opened her arms in a calming gesture – everything about this woman seemed to exude kindness. "Please, sister," she turned to address both the men, "brothers, allow me to handle these mortals."

Hera, looking more upset than before, though no longer with her husband, decided to return upstairs without a word. Her husband followed, the stormy atmosphere dissipating as he climbed the stairs. Hestia, gestured for David and Emma to follow her into the side room, a dark bar and lounge room.

Other than the three of them, there was only one other patron in the room, a young man, slumped over in his seat, asleep with a wine bottle sideways on the table. Beside the bar was a pretty, young woman who paid no attention to the new comers. She didn't quite fit in with the other people here, as she didn't have the same unattainable beauty to her, but she seemed at home, polishing glasses with a white cloth.

Hestia led them to a set of couches before a huge, ornate fire place. Tentatively, David and Emma took the offered seats.

"Thank you, Ms." David started, and the woman smiled.

"Please, think nothing of it. My siblings tend to have a temper about these sort of things," she herself took a seat, though at the hearth of the fire. "For good reason, mind you. We do not seek the attention of mortals in this day and age."

"What do you mean mortals?" Emma settled back into the couch, though mentally checked herself to be ready to bolt if necessary. "Who are you all? Magic users?"

Hestia laughed at that. "Magic users? How quaint. No, Princess, -" Emma bristled at the mention of her most unused title, "- we are the Olympians."

David frowned, and Emma's mouth dropped open slightly in shock. "Like… like the Greek Gods? From, what, Mount Olympus?"

With another warm laugh, Hestia nodded. "Yes, yes, the very same." Her expression then, for the first time turned grim. "You both, however have made a grave error coming here."

"We were called though," David started. "We had to."

Hestia sighed, "I understand that. I just wish you would have not come. I do not know whom it was who called you, or why they did, but it has not led to good things." She gestured back to the lobby, "that man there was Zeus."

Emma's eyes narrowed. Finally a name she recognised, though she did not like the sound of it.

"You've brought up an issue we've been successfully avoiding for some time now – interaction with mortals," Hestia turned to stoke the fire as she spoke. "There was a rule. While we had come to this town in order to avoid our abilities being noticed by the mortals, we also lived under strict law never to talk or involve the mortals who lived here in our affairs. You," she turned her eyes back to her guests, "have broken this law, though you were not aware of it."

She allowed a moment for the two Sheriffs to realise the gravity of the situation. From what little of Greek mythology Emma could remember, everything bad seemed to happen when humans and gods came in contact. But, at the same time, all the heroes came from those meetings as well.

"Why would you stop meeting with us, uh, mortals? If that's how you all get your heroes, wouldn't it be a good thing?"

"Hardly." Hestia was carefully rearranging the soot in the fireplace, not caring much about how close to the flames she was getting. "A demi-god is a force of unfathomable power. Strength, wisdom, ability. But all these things ultimately end in destruction, as they lose control, or are turned against others by us," she gestured widely at the hotel around them. "The life of a demi-god is never a good, nor a long one. And it only ends in pain for both the mortals and the gods. So, it is best to avoid them altogether."

She brushed the soot from her hands as she stood, and both David and Emma rose. "Now, before anything more happens, I urge you both to leave, now."

After escorting the two mortals to the lobby again, and watching them drive off, Hestia heaved a tired sigh. Closing the door behind her, she saw Hades and Persephone watching her.

"What will happen now, Lady Hestia?" Persephone, cradled her potted fern to her chest, her husband standing motionless in the shadows as always.

Hestia shook her head. "I am uncertain, my dear. Only the fates know the consequences of this encounter."

She left them without another word, returning to the lounge. Walking up to the bar, the young woman spoke to her without looking up. "A drink, Lady Hestia?"

"No," she said solemnly, "I wish to convene with the Oracle."

The girl raised her head, her eyes glowing golden. "Lord Apollo has asked me to say nothing."

Hestia frowned. "Troubling news then?"

The girl didn't reply, just continued to stare with her blazing eyes as her hands continued to polish the glass they held.

"What then, if I may ask, can be done to help these mortals?"

The Oracle sighed quietly, though it sounded nearly musical from her. "Lord Apollo has asked me to say nothing," she recited, "though, there is nothing that can be done to the wheel already in motion."

Hestia shook her head. "What has already started?"

"The Game. It has already begun."