A/N: Last chapter everyone. This has been a fun ride; I hope you've all enjoyed it. Once again, thank you so much, for all of the phenomenal support you've given me for this fic. And so, without further ado, chapter 6 of our 6 scene opus.

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Chapter 6: Rewards

Emma's yellow bug pulled up in front of Jefferson's mansion but neither driver nor passenger made any move to step out of the car. Both sat staring up at the beautiful, empty house that had been both the embodiment of Jefferson's youthful dreamings, and the perfect nightmarish prison of the wiser, harder man he had become because of his circumstances. Emma's eyes shifted to the man who sat beside her, who had been disturbingly quiet on the car ride away from town.

"You ok?" she asked, finally.

Jefferson drew in a shaky breath before nodding. "I'm fine." He said, but Emma didn't believe him.

"Don't lie to me." She scolded, and that earned a wistful quirk of the lips from him.

"You're getting better at reading me." He said, with a trace of pride in his voice.

Emma snorted, and it broke the fragile quiet with the abruptness of a hammer to a pane of glass.

"Should be," she said, "you did spend a week handcuffed to my sofa."

Jefferson shrugged, and they fell into a comfortable silence once again.

"You ready?" Emma asked.

Jefferson sighed. "I've been alone for so long" he said, "This past week was the first time in almost thirty years that I lived with another person… that I didn't have only myself to talk to… It was nice."

Emma smiled softly, and took his hand from where it lay on his thigh. "You don't have to be alone anymore, you've got friends now."

Jefferson sighed again, and braced himself to go back into the house that had once been his prison.

"I'm ready." He whispered. It didn't seem so scary anymore.

Emma and Jefferson stepped out of the car and walked up the steps to the front door.

"Would you like to come in?" Jefferson offered, gesturing vaguely at the door.

"Depends, are you going to drug me again?" Emma quipped.

Jefferson looked awkwardly down at his hands. "Ah… no. I'm never going to live that down am I?"

Emma shook her head. "Nope, not ever, but I'll come in for a little while anyway."

The smile Jefferson gave her was worth the potential for kidnapping.

The house had been torn apart while Regina and Dr. Whale had been searching for Jefferson. Furniture had been pushed away from the walls, and previously shelved items were strewn across the floor in attempts to find hidey-holes or general clues to Jefferson's whereabouts.

Jefferson sighed in exasperation as he eyed the mess.

"Did they take anything?" Emma asked. "I can have them brought in on charges so fast their heads will spin. I am the Sheriff afterall."

"I don't think so. But thank you anyway." Jefferson replied.

They stared at the mess in silence for a few moments as if expecting it to rearrange itself into its proper order all on its own.

"You want some help clearing this up?" Emma offered.

Jefferson shook his head. "I shouldn't make you… you've already done too much for me as it is."

"I'm offering." Emma cut him off.

Jefferson gave her a relieved smile. "If you don't mind."

The next few hours were spent moving furniture, picking up broken vases, and straightening out the rooms of Jefferson's mansion. When they came to his study Emma eyed Jefferson's telescopes warily.

"I don't just spy on my daughter, you know." Jefferson said, noticing Emma's discomfort.

"That's not really that comforting." Emma said with a frown.

"Let me show you?"

Emma stared at him for a moment before nodding. They moved over to the windows and Jefferson looked through the telescope, swinging it over the town below. It was mid-afternoon by this time, the schools were just getting out and the town was bustling about its daily business, oblivious to Jefferson's watchful eye.

"Here," he said, stepping back from the telescope and offering the eye-piece to Emma.

Emma stepped up to it and squinted down the neck of the spy glass.

Henry was just leaving school, waiting by the side of the road for Regina to pick him up. A few other children walked by and waved a friendly goodbye to him.

"When Regina brought home a new baby, I was suspicious. I kept an eye on him, tried to make sure he was alright. He's grown up well, in spite of Regina's cold heart. He's more like you than he is like her. Brave to a fault, stubborn, and self-reliant. Good kid."

Emma realized in that moment that Jefferson knew her son better than she did.

"Thank you," she said, and she meant it. "Thank you for looking after him, you're a better parent than I am."

Jefferson shrugged, his face clouding over.

"That's debatable. I shouldn't have left Grace."

Emma ignored his use of the delusionary name he had for the girl. "If it's any consolation, I think she's grown up into a great kid too."

Jefferson gave her a wistful smile. "I know."

The sound of the doorbell cut through the melancholy of the conversation. Emma smiled at the confused look on Jefferson's face.

"I hope you don't mind," she said, "but I invited someone over for afternoon tea?"

Jefferson eyed her in confusion.

"Just answer the door." She urged.

She followed him down the upper halls and staircase, through the wealthy opulence that was depressingly empty for all its style and grandeur.

Jefferson peeked out a window in the living room and nearly collapsed when he caught sight of the three people standing on his porch.

His eyes were wild when he turned to Emma, like a caged animal.

"What?" She asked.

"I can't do this, Emma!"

"Why not?"

"Because I'll be too tempted to just take her. You shouldn't have brought her here; I don't want her to see me like this!" He cried, suddenly angry.

Emma frowned, but reached for his hand. "That's why I'm here." She said soothingly. "I won't let you do anything that will ruin your chances of seeing her again. Besides, I know you'd never do anything to hurt her."

Jefferson's breathing slowed from a gallop, and the doorbell sounded again in the background.

"Do you want to try? Do you think you could deal with the regret if you don't?"

Jefferson shook his head.

"Then get up, and answer the door."

Jefferson stood from where he had slumped on the couch and straightened the suit he wore. His fingers strayed over his throat and Emma saw the panic in his eyes as he realized his scar was visible. Emma quickly pulled a scarf off of the coat tree in the corner and handed it to Jefferson. He smiled at her nervously and wrapped the scarf artfully around his neck with the expertise of practice. Then he went to open the front door. With a steadying breath he pulled it open and was caught face-to-face with his daughter and her adoptive parents. Paige was holding a box of pastries, decorated with the logo from the local bakery and her look of confusion and nerves mirrored her father's perfectly.

There was an awkward silence and no-one knew exactly what should be said in this situation. It was Sarah Driscoll who finally took the plunge.

"Hello." She said, with a little wave.

Jefferson shook his head as if clearing away cobwebs and broke into a million-watt smile as he turned on the charm, hard.

"Forgive me," he said, "Emma forgot to mention that you were coming. This is a bit unexpected, and I was not entirely prepared…"

"We can come back, if this is a bad time." Patrick said, and Emma saw Paige's face fall with disappointment.

"No," Jefferson said, "I'm thrilled that you're all here. Please, come inside."

Jefferson stepped aside and let Paige and her parents through the door.

"Hello, Sheriff Swan." The young couple greeted Emma.

"Hey, nice to see you again." Emma replied.

Jefferson swept by the three strangers to his home and invited them into the living room to sit. Emma noticed that he was carefully avoiding eye-contact with Paige. On the other hand, Paige herself was curiously eyeing her biological father with a shrewd eye that took in every movement, every gesture. Emma could see the wheels turning in her brain, carefully filing and cataloguing this man. Emma couldn't blame her, he was odd, and took a bit of getting used to before you could be comfortable around him. Letting your guard down completely would be a mistake, but that was why Emma was here, so that no one else had to worry about predicting Jefferson's mercurial shifts in and out of madness.

"Would anyone care for a cup of tea?" Jefferson's all-too-innocent question shook Emma from her thoughts, and she caught the slightly manic glint in his eye. He was hiding it carefully, and that made Emma's hackles rise all the more.

"Yes, that sounds lovely." Sarah Driscoll replied, oblivious to the implications of tea and the man who called himself the Mad Hatter, as well as the potential explosive results of the two mixing.

"I'll help you get it!" Emma said a little too eagerly, and jumping out of her seat. All eyes in the room swung over to her in surprise.

Jefferson quickly waltzed out of the room and Emma had to scramble to keep up with his long strides, snatching up the box of pastries as she went, under the pretense of putting them on a plate. If the guests in the other room heard Emma and Jefferson bickering about the benefits of "loose leaf" tea versus previously packaged "bag tea," they didn't seem to think that Emma's vehement insistence that they be served tea that had less chance of being tampered with was anything to be concerned about. They did however hear the sounds of a china cup smashing on the floor, and the colorful language that followed, but they were polite enough not to mention it when Emma and Jefferson returned.

Eventually a large tray loaded with a tea pot, fine white china cups, and pastries was carried into the living room and set on the coffee table. The formalities of preparing tea were observed in relative silence. But Jefferson's hands shook slightly as he handed Paige a cup of warm milk, with a just a dash of honey. Not even Mr. or Mrs. Driscoll could miss the look of complete and utter adoration on Jefferson's face as she smiled in delight at receiving her favorite drink, and thanked him heartily.

Emma snagged a bear claw off of the platter of pastries, then sat back in her chair and sipped at her cup of non-drugged tea, preparing herself for the conversation to follow.

The conversation began with Patrick Driscoll asking Jefferson to share a little about himself, to which Jefferson replied with the sanest version of his past that Emma had ever heard. Emma did however find it necessary to subtly kick him in the shins once or twice when his narrative strayed too far towards the fantastical. There is nothing that would drive the Driscolls out of the door faster than if Jefferson began spouting stories about magic hats and the chopping off of heads.

Mr. and Mrs. Driscoll had the decency not to mention how bundled up Jefferson looked, with his scarf tied tightly around his neck. But every once in a while their eyes did stray down to the swath of grey fabric curiously. It was Paige who finally pointed out one of the many elephants in the room.

"Why are you wearing a scarf inside?" she asked, cocking her head innocently to one side.

"Paige!" Sarah Driscoll admonished in horror. "That isn't polite!"

"No, it's alright." Jefferson said. Then he turned to his daughter and looked at her fully for the first time during the visit.

"I wear this scarf to hide a scar on my neck… I don't like to show it, it's a reminder of… darker times." Jefferson's eyes grew distant as his thoughts turned to Wonderland.

Emma nudged him gently, to make sure he didn't dwell on it for too long and become lost in it. Emma still wondered how he really got that scar around his neck, it really was quite shocking.

Jefferson shook his head as if Wonderland could be banished as easily as shaking water from his hair.

"But that's another story for another time." He said with false levity. "Today is far too happy a day for it to be ruined with that tale."

Mr. Driscoll glanced at his watch.

"Oh god, seven already? Tonight's a school night so Paige you have to be in bed by nine and we haven't even had dinner yet." Mr. and Mrs. Driscoll stood to start cleaning up the dishes.

"I could…" Jefferson piped up and all eyes swung to him. "She could… I mean, this is a very large house and…" Jefferson stumbled over what he desperately wanted to say.

"Can I stay here tonight?" Paige filled in, moving around the coffee table to take Jefferson's hand in her own.

Mr. and Mrs. Driscoll stared at their daughter in shock, and looked at each other as if to say: "Well go on, you tell her."

But fortunately Jefferson recognized that he had not yet won their trust with their daughter, so he knelt down to Paige's level.

"Not tonight sweetheart." He said gently. "But soon. Your – parents and I need to get to know each other a bit better before we can do that."

Paige looked disappointed, but she nodded in understanding. The girl really was an angel.

"Paige, honey," Sarah Driscoll said, "Why don't you help Mr. Lake carry the dishes into the kitchen while your dad and I talk with the Sheriff?" Sarah gave Jefferson a pointed look that told him that his was his opportunity for some alone time with his daughter, and that if he did well this time he'd earn more at a later date.

Emma watched as Paige lifted the tray of remaining pastries and followed Jefferson into the kitchen. Emma bit her lip with nervous anticipation.

"Sheriff Swan," Sarah said, calling her attention back to the present. "You said you would be willing to chaperone any meetings between Paige and Mr. Lake. And since you have been required by the court to check up on him anyway, I'd like to take you up on that offer."

"Of course." Emma replied.

"Mr. Lake seems… troubled. So I have two conditions for his access to Paige."

"Ok."

"First, until either her father or I say otherwise, you must be present during their meetings. You seem to know Jefferson better than anyone else in town, and your presence would be less oppressive to them than Patrick or I. Second, Jefferson must go and start speaking with a professional about his delusions. As he makes progress there, he can begin to see Paige for longer, and more frequently and eventually un-chaperoned. He is also obligated to come to dinner at our house every once in a while so that we can get to know him better."

Emma nodded. "I'm sure he'll agree to all of it."

Sarah Driscoll nodded in acknowledgement.

"In that case, that's all I needed to say. So we really must be going now. Paige!" Sarah called for her daughter. "Paige, it's time to go!"

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Jefferson's heart pounded in his chest wildly as Paige followed him out of the living room and into the kitchen to help him clear up the dishes.

He laid his tray of china cups and saucers on the island in the middle of the kitchen, which looked like something out of a magazine or off of a cooking show. Paige looked mildly impressed with the lavish kitchen, but her focus was directed more towards him. She handed him the platter of remaining pastries and Jefferson poured all his concentration into returning the pastries to their original box and loading the dishwasher with dirty dishes. It had been a long time since he had had enough company to generate this much of a mess.

Jefferson could feel Paige's eyes boring into the back of his head. What she was thinking, he had no idea, but he was too busy fighting with himself to figure it out. The Hatter was screaming in his head, telling him to grab the girl and never let her leave. They could be together forever, just as it should be, happily ever after, Regina's curse be damned.

'No,' the saner part of his mind argued back. 'I can't hurt her like that. She loves these people and they love her. I don't know how or why I got this chance, but I'll be damned if I'm going to let you mess it up for me.'

The thought of the disappointment on Emma's face if he failed, was enough to sober him. She had done so much to help him; while she had brought her nothing but trouble… he didn't deserve her friendship, or her trust. One day it would all blow up in her face, just like it always did when people put their trust in him. People got hurt when they stayed too close to his side… people die.

Alice.

"Can I ask you a question?" Paige's shaky voice cut through his spiraling madness, and brought him back to the present. Jefferson realized he'd been scrubbing at the same clean tea pot for almost three minutes now. Then her words sank in.

"Of course, you can ask me anything." Jefferson replied.

"Why – why did you put me up for adoption? Did you not want me? Was there something wrong with me?" Tears began to flood Paige's eyes as years and years, more years that she even knew, of questions and insecurities came rushing to the surface.

Jefferson's heart broke in two.

"Oh baby, no." He said, all awkwardness falling away, all distance, as he reverted back into simply being Grace's father, the man he used to be, and he wrapped her up in a tight hug. Paige sniffed and clung to him instinctively, her fingers curling into the fabric of his suit.

Jefferson pulled back and cupped her face in his hands. "Listen to me, Gracie. I love you, so much. I always have, and I always will."

Paige sniffled. "Then why'd you send me away?"

"I didn't want to. It wasn't my decision…" Jefferson bit down on his tongue before he said too much, so he told his daughter a kinder lie… just like Regina wanted.

"I'm sick, baby. Something in my head got broken, and you weren't safe here with me anymore. So they took you away, and they thought it would be better if you never knew how to find me."

"Why not?"

"They didn't think I was going to get better."

"But you are gonna get better right? Sheriff Swan said that having family can help people get better, and I'm here now."

Jefferson smiled and brushed the rest of his daughter's tears away with a swipe of his thumbs across her cheeks, before pulling her into another tight hug.

"Yeah, I'm going to get better. It's not going to be easy, but now that I have something to fight for, I'm going to try." And in that moment Jefferson was the most calm he'd felt in almost thirty years.

"Paige!" Paige's mother's voice called from the living room. "Paige, it's time to go!"

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Paige shuffled in resignation out of the kitchen with Jefferson in tow, and the small family moved to the front hall in order to say their goodbyes. Paige shocked everyone by jumping up and latching her arms around Jefferson's neck in a goodbye-hug that Jefferson returned with relish. Patrick gave Jefferson a cordial handshake before going with Paige out to their waiting car.

Sarah Driscoll waited until her husband and daughter were gone before making her farewells.

"Mr. Lake," she began, "I've already laid out my terms to the Sheriff and I will get to those in a moment, but I'll just say this now: Patrick and I love Paige very much… But you're her parent too, so I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt, for her sake."

Jefferson nodded in understanding. "Thank you." He said sincerely.

Sarah then repeated her terms to Jefferson, all of which he agreed to.

"Goodnight, Mr. Lake." She said when she was satisfied that all her terms were understood, and offered him her hand to shake.

Jefferson took it. "Please, call me Jefferson." He said, with a shy smile.

Sarah smiled in return and nodded. "Goodnight then, Jefferson, Sheriff."

Then she walked out the door and to the car where her husband and daughter were waiting for her.

Emma didn't speak until the car had pulled out of the driveway and was out of sight, into the woods.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, watching Jefferson for any sign of emotion.

An eyebrow twitched at the sound of her voice, and he heaved a great sigh before replying with a drawn out: "I'm… good." He sounded just as surprised by this as she did.

Emma smiled gently as she saw that he wasn't lying.

"I'm proud of you." She said. "You did really well today."

Jefferson gave her a pointed look. "You had to stop me from drugging them when they first arrived."

Emma sighed. "Yes, but that's why I was here in the first place. To be your conscience when your real one goes missing."

Jefferson smiled in amusement.

"What?"

"I just got the mental image of you dressed up like a cricket, with a bow tie and a miniature umbrella."

Emma rolled her eyes, but had to smile.

Jefferson shook his head. "I don't know what you did to make today turn out the way it did, but thank you."

Emma frowned. "What makes you think I did anything?"

"My luck is never this good." He replied.

Emma shrugged. "I just dug up the facts and gave them to the right people. They decided what to do with them."

It was then that Emma noticed that Jefferson was invading her personal space again.

"All the same, thank you." He said, in a voice barely above a whisper.

Emma backed up a step and Jefferson followed, driving her back into the living room.

"Jefferson," Emma said, cautiously. "What are you doing?"

"What am I doing, what?" Came his non-answer with a crooked grin, one could almost describe it at Cheshire.

Emma huffed in exasperation, but felt a pull of truly unwanted excitement from somewhere near the base of her spine.

"Jefferson…" she said, and his eyes jumped up to meet her eyes from where he had been staring at her lips.

"I'm seducing you." He said, simply.

Emma rolled her eyes. "You've got to be… Jefferson, I already said – "

The rest of her protests died as Jefferson lunged forward and kissed her senseless. By the time it ended Emma had relented and was pulling him closer by the lapels of his suit for more. They eventually collapsed onto the couch and lay staring at each other, panting for breath.

"Ok…" Emma said, trying to wrap her head around the situation. "Ok…"

"Ok, what?" Jefferson asked, as his lips brushed against her neck lazily.

Emma shivered. "Ok… what is this?"

"I believe this is your clavicle." He said before latching onto it with his mouth.

Emma cuffed him on the back of his shoulder.

"No! This," she gestured wildly in the air above his head. "This… thing we're doing…. That keeps happening… what… is it?"

Jefferson sobered and rose up to lean on his elbow so as to get a proper look at her.

"I don't love you." Emma blurted.

Jefferson nodded. "That's fine." He said, "I don't think of you as more than a friend either."

"Good, so… what is this? Why does it keep happening?"

Jefferson cocked an eyebrow at her. "I don't know if you've noticed, but there is a fair amount of 'chemistry' between us. So just because I don't think of you as more than a friend, doesn't mean I think of you as less than a woman, and a very attractive woman at that. And I'm not so mad as I can't recognize an attractive woman when she runs me down with her car."

Emma frowned, and Jefferson sighed in exasperation.

"You can admit that you're attracted to me, Emma. That doesn't count as a commitment."

"I'm not attracted to you!" she cried, indignantly, and Jefferson gave her a look that said he clearly didn't believe her. "Ok, fine, yeah I am attracted to you. But I don't want a relationship; I can't deal with that right now."

"It's not exactly something I can do either." Jefferson admitted.

"So then what is this?"

"Does it need a label?"

"Yes. Because I need to know exactly what is going to be expected of me."

Jefferson sighed. "Well, what do you want it to be?"

Emma groaned in frustration. "I'm being serious!" she huffed.

"So am I." He said, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear so he could see her better. "What do you want it to be? I'm at as much of a loss as you are."

Emma bit her lip in thought. "I want to be able to back out of this for any reason, or even for no reason at all and have you back off immediately."

Jefferson nodded in agreement and raised his hands defensively.

"In public," Emma continued, "we're nothing more than friends."

"Well, that is presuming that I go out in public, but I will agree all the same."

"I want to be able to show up unannounced just to get away from work or life if I need to."

"My home is at your disposal."

Emma sighed, she felt better for having gotten all of that off her chest, and for having established some ground rules to be observed. "How about you?" she asked.

Jefferson gazed up at the ceiling in thought. "I want you to keep me grounded when I'm with you, the way you did today. I'd like for you to believe me when I talk about home and Wonderland, but I understand that that is unlikely. And despite what everyone says about me, I know what is real, and what isn't, but I understand that everyone else doesn't see it that way. So I want you to help me pretend. I want to pretend that I fit so that I can survive here, until the curse is broken."

Emma opened her mouth to protest his fantasy, but something stopped her. He was trying, and this was probably as good as it was going to get for a while, so instead she just nodded and said: "Deal."

With that Jefferson kissed her, and it wasn't long before Emma was lost in it completely.

Clothes were quickly shed as kisses turned more and more frantic. Moving up to the master bedroom was proposed, but that idea was discarded when Emma simply straddled him and took him inside of her, too impatient to even make it up the stairs. The plush rug cushioned Emma's knees as she began to move her hips, and Jefferson arched his back up into her, his eyes squeezed tight, and toes curling against the pleasure. Neither one lasted long and they plummeted over the edge one after the other with moans and prayers on their lips. Emma collapsed on top of him and sighed contentedly, but it wasn't long before Jefferson was hard again, and he was driving into her from behind.

It was fully dark by the time they finished, having climaxed, then cooled down, then worked themselves over the edge again several times that evening. Eventually they had made it up into the king sized bed in Jefferson's bedroom, and they had tested the structural soundness of the head board several times over.

Emma lay contentedly in Jefferson's arms, her head rested on his shoulder and her leg thrown across his waist as one of his hands traced up and down her arm.

"So what would you call this, if you had to give it a name." she asked.

"I believe this is called the 'afterglow' by most people these days." Jefferson replied.

Emma huffed.

Jefferson chuckled. "You are very keen on labels aren't you?" Then he paused to mull it over for a moment. "I think the term 'friends-with-benefits' fits the situation the best."

"Friends with benefits…" Emma said, as if tasting the phrase for the first time. "That sounds good, I think I could deal with that."

"Good." Jefferson said, rolling over to kiss her gently. Jefferson was a master at bringing her blood up to a simmer in her veins, and he was having no problem persuading her to the idea of another round.

Emma's phone started the jangle a cheerful tune from her jeans, which had been discarded on the floor after somehow making up the stairs.

Emma groaned and rolled out of the bed to answer the phone. It was Mary Margaret.

"Hey, you alright?" Mary Margaret asked. "What time are you coming home?"

"Yeah, I'm just… finishing up some paperwork, I'll be home soon."

Emma sat on the bed and Jefferson crawled over to dot kisses across her shoulders.

"Oh, ok." Mary Margaret replied. "Is spaghetti ok with you for dinner?"

"Perfect." Emma had to bat Jefferson away as he started to nibble at her neck and earlobes. He grinned wickedly.

"I'll see you soon." Emma said.

"Ok, bye." Mary Margaret hung up, and Emma started to collect her belongings and pull on her clothes.

"You're leaving?" Jefferson asked, looking severely put-out.

"Yeah, Mary Margaret was wondering where I was."

"Ah," Jefferson nodded, "Why did you lie?"

"Jefferson, we've been over this. We're not dating, it's not like anyone has to know that we're sleeping together. In fact, I think it'd be better if this did just stay between you and me."

Jefferson frowned. "Why?"

Emma sighed. "This is already a serious lapse in my judgment as is. I'm supposed to be monitoring you, and it would be a slight conflict of interest if people knew I was sleeping with you as well…"

As much as Jefferson didn't want to admit it, she had a point. Relenting, he nodded his understanding. By this time, Emma had mostly finished dressing; her bra, panties, and jacket had remained in the living room, leaving her going commando in her jeans and t-shirt.

Emma smiled at him nervously. "I'll be by again soon, I promise."

Jefferson frowned, but nodded again.

"I'll be bringing Paige to visit soon too…" Emma said in an attempt to elicit a smile from him, and she sort of succeeded. He still looked unhappy with their situation, but his face visibly softened at the mention of his daughter coming to visit again.

"Go," he said, "Before I tie you down and make you stay."

Emma laughed nervously, something in his voice warned that he was at least half serious with his threat.

She sobered. "I promise, I'll be back soon Jefferson… You won't be alone here anymore."

Jefferson sighed, "I'll see you soon, then. Goodbye, Emma."

"Bye."

With that she turned and left. The front door clicked shut solidly and Jefferson felt his solitude weigh down on his chest. He sighed again loudly, to try and break the oppressive silence of his empty house. He and Emma were off to a rough start, but at least now he could say he had a friend in Storybrooke. A voice in the back of his head pointed out all the people who had testified at his hearing on his behalf. A handful of friends, he conceded, and that was enough to make him smile with an emotion he hadn't experienced in years; hope.

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A/N: Thanks for reading, and please just because this is the last chapter, don't forget to review. Something as simple as "I liked it." Would be greatly appreciated! (However, if you didn't like it, please tell me why, so I can improve my writing in the future.)

SPECIEAL A/N: I will be continuing Emma and Jefferson's story in another fic that will be titled "The Deep End." Start looking for it around mid-September.