Andrew casually walked down the street in his blue button-up shirt, khakies, and black running shoes with his gun holstered to his black belt on the left side of his hip and his sheriff badge on the other side. In his hands he carried a box of doughnuts and two coffees in a cup carrier. His light blue eyes glanced over at Regina who was standing on the other side of the street, staring at the clock tower that rested above the closed and dusty library. Originally he thought nothing of it until she noticed how confused she looked at the sight of the clock's hands moving for the first time for as long as he could remember, she's the mayor, wouldn't she know that someone was fixing that clock?

"Hey!" A red-headed man with a dalmatian stopped behind Regina and gave the clock a friendly smile before turning his attention to Regina, "how about that? Guess those rusty old innards finally straightened themselves out, huh?" Andrew sighed as he overheard him – Archie, always the optimist to the point of being an idiot. It's mathematically impossible for a clock to fix and correct the time by itself. His right eyebrow raised slightly as Regina seemed to look around the street, rest her eyes on the yellow Bug, and then give Archie an indifferent expression.

"Yes, how about that, indeed," she calmly replied. Instantly his mind raised for any possible explanation for the mayor's behavior, but the moment his mind decided to bring up Henry's book his mind felt as if a fog entered and the only way to get through it was to move past it. He continued back to the police station, feeling frustrated at the strange road block to what he referred to as his "Mind Palace".

A ten-year-old Sherlock scurried after a seven-teen-year-old boy through the large crowd that gathered in front of the castle.

"Mycroft!" Sherlock shouted above the crowd, "wait for me!" The older boy stopped and turned to Sherlock.

"If we're going to sneak in, we're going to have to be quick," Mycroft whispered the reminder to his younger brother as soon as he caught up.

"I know that," Sherlock calmly moved passed Mycroft and continued to weave through the crowd as they all confirmed what the Holmes boys already knew: Queen Eva died last night. The brothers quickly made their way out of the crowd towards the servants' entrance into the castle. Mycroft pulled the door open as Sherlock entered the castle, closely followed by Mycroft. The brothers crept through the servants' corridors, traveling up and down several flights of stairs, until they finally reached the room where Queen Eva died. It was quiet and empty, everyone was too busy elsewhere to guard the room the queen once called hers. They immediately began to search the room, looking for anything that would be useful in figuring out what exactly happened.

"Mycroft," Sherlock loudly whispered at his brother who was investigating the closet, immediately Mycroft re-hung a dress and joined Sherlock at the left-hand side of the bed. "Someone's been here," Sherlock moved a rug over, revealing some muddy footprints, "someone with magic. They teleported themselves in, got what they wanted, and then left the same way. But what did they want?"

"Only in looking will you find the answer, Sherlock," Mycroft answered as he watched Sherlok immediately crawl under the bed. He snickered at the sound of a cough under the bed, "dusty under there?"

"Shut up," the voice replied from under the bed, "there was something under here, though, something small and cylinder. Judging from the size, I'm certain it's an unused candle."

"And what does that tell you?"

"The intruder took the candle," Sherlock answered as he crawled out from under the bed, his pants even dirtier than before thanks to the dust it absorbed into its fibers as he crawled below, "which means the candle had magic and they didn't want someone else to find it."

Graham threw a dart and smiled with pride as it hit the very center of the dart board across the room from him.

"Nothing to get excited about, Graham," Andrew moaned, making his feelings of boredom completely obvious.

"Never miss," Graham turned to Andrew, "that's an accomplishment."

"Hardly, it's only calculating the fluctuations of the air in the room, the distance from the dart to the board, and the strength of gravity. With a little effort, anyone could hit that red dot."

"Alright then," Graham held a dart out to Andrew, "try it."

Andrew snatched the dart, seeing it as an opportunity to break his boredom and to prove to his deputy that he's a genius. He had just gotten into position, ready to throw, when the door swung open.

"Sheriff," Regina urgently entered the room, carrying her large black purse, "I need you to do something for me."

"I have my doubts it's legal," Andrew calmly replied as he set the dart on the desk as Graham stifled a laugh.

"I'm going to do you a favor and ignore that remark," Regina gave Andrew a stern look, "anyway, I need you to watch Emma for me. I don't like how often I see her with Henry and more importantly how little I know about it."

"In other words, you want me to stalk her in order to satisfy your need to know everything. That sounds like something I would absolutely enjoy."

"Quit with the sarcasm, Andrew. Are you going to do it or not?"

"No, I have better things to do than stalk the new girl in town like a schoolboy trying to please the popular girl."

"Oh? Like what? Throwing darts at a board?"

"Yes."

"Do you have any idea how childish you're sounding right now?"

"I was about to ask you the same thing, Madame Mayor."

"Do you want to keep your job, sheriff? Then I suggest you do what I say."

"Considering that what you're saying is in fact illegal, I have every right to refuse and your threats will only make me want to refuse even more."

Regina glared at him, attempting to frighten him into it, but Andrew knew what she was doing and merely picked up the dart and threw it at the board like she was never there. The dart stuck to the indent of the red circle, only a few spaces away from Graham's dart.

"See?" Andrew looked Graham, "not that hard."

Graham didn't reply to Andrew as he was too enthralled in the quarrel between the sheriff and the mayor. Regina merely walked over to Andrew and snatched his badge from him.

"I'm disappointed in you, Andrew," Regina snarled at him again, "you're fired. Pack your things and get out," Andrew watched as Regina walked over to Graham and handed him Andrew's badge, "congratulations, Sheriff Graham."

"What're you doing?" A young, female voice inquired as the Holmes boys turned around to find Princess Snow White standing in the doorway, "how did you get in? Answer me or I'll call the guards!"

"With all due respect, your majesty," Mycroft bowed as he moved his arm out, blocking Sherlock from rudely walking towards the young princess, "but we-"

"Believe there is more to your mother's death than what meets the eye," Sherlock interrupted his brother.

"Sherlock!" Mycroft strictly whispered at his brother as he jabbed Sherlock's side with his hand.

"What do you mean?" Snow White questioned as she walked towards them, "you don't think she was-

"Murdered, yes," Sherlock rudely interrupted Snow White in a rush to get to the point. Mycroft quickly caught the princess as she fell over in fright.

"Oh no," she gasped and looked up at them, "why would they do such a thing?"

"I have reason to believe they wanted something from her, some sort of magical candle," Sherlock watched Snow White as her face went paler than usual – now her face truly was as white as snow. "Do you know anything about it?" The Holmes boys watched Snow White as she looked at one and then the other, then back to the first one, then the second, and finally looked at the floor.

"I don't. I'm sorry."

Sherlok was about to point out her obvious lie when Mycroft intervened.

"It's quite alright, given the circumstances. We are truly sorry for your loss," Mycroft held his brother back.

"Thank you," Snow sighed, "you better go before anyone else sees you."

"Thank you, your highness," Mycroft bowed before dragging Sherlock out of the bed chamber and all the way out of the castle.

"She was lying, Mycroft," Sherlock pushed Mycroft away from him, "why didn't you let me question her?"

"She just lost her mother, Sherlock," Mycroft answered, "and we were lucky she didn't call the guards on us."

"We're missing a lot of pieces," Sherlock muttered as he sat down on a tree stump, "it was murder, I know it, I just can't figure out who, why, and how."

"You'll figure it out eventually," Mycroft smiled up at the blue sky, "you always do."