But people like Regina, she was different. Who could keep up with a jarhead for three years and get nothing out of it? Still, nerves got the better of her as an emerging town finally started to appear. She glanced down at the postcard on the passenger seat, eyeing the address she had come to memorize. 108 Mifflin Street, Storybrooke, Maine. Now where the hell was that?

She nearly slammed on the brakes when she saw the fabled clock tower, stuck in time as it permanently read 8:15. This is real, Emma thought. All the stories Emma heard, they weren't just stories in letters made up to entertain a homesick soldier. They were real events with real people, and Emma was about to meet them.

Training had taught her the best form of gathering intelligence was to investigate, so parking her car in front of the clock tower, Emma set out to explore the town.

The pawn shop just ahead had to be the one Regina was telling her about with the seedy man who tried to run against her for mayor. She peeked into the shop to see him behind the counter, conversing with a young brunette as he leaned on his cane. Judging by the smell of fried food wafting down the street, Emma was willing to bet that it was coming from the diner that Regina said had the best apple pancakes, though Regina would never tell the chef for fear of inflating her ego. She looked around briefly, wondering where the stables were before her rumbling stomach had another plan. Now was a good time as any to stop for a late lunch.


The bell jingled, signalling her entrance as Emma stepped into the diner. Almost as one, the patrons stopped what they were doing to gawk at the newcomer. Emma had to physically look down to make sure she was still dressed in her civvies. She knew the uniform drew attention, but out of it, she tended to blend in with the crowd. Now, however, she stuck out like a sore thumb. Must be that small town mentality.

"Hi!" A perky brunette with a streak of red in her hair came up to greet her, and just like that, the spell was over and Emma became just another face in the crowd. "One?"

"Yes," Emma nodded following the waitress to the counter.

She slid onto a stool and leaned on her forearms, using her peripherals to take in her location. The diner was something out of the 80's with its checkered linoleum tiling and its jukebox in the corner that was currently on its rotation of Karma Chameleon. It was clearly a place where everyone knew everyone - where teenagers came for their dates, friends met up at after school, and elderly sat to read the morning paper. It was nice. Homely.

"So," the brunette began standing opposite Emma. "What can I get you...?"

"Swan." Emma extended her hand. "Emma Swan."

"Ruby."

Emma shrugged out her hands. "I hear the apple pancakes are good, but I'm guessing you're not serving breakfast right now."

"Apple pancakes?" Ruby raised an intrigued eyebrow. "You wouldn't happen to know Mayor Mills, would you?"

"Yeah," Emma brightened and straightened in her chair. "Regina. I'm actually looking for Mifflin Street, do you know where I could find it?"

"You want to look for Mifflin," Ruby repeated as she pressed her pen to her lip and looked at Emma as if she were a martian. At Emma's nod, she shrugged and pointed out the door. "Yeah, just head north on Main, take a right on Brighton, and another right on Mifflin. You can't miss the house."

"Thanks," Emma smiled her appreciation before picking up a menu. "So what's good here?"

"My granny says I'm obligated to say everything," Ruby joked. "We make a mean cheeseburger, though."

Emma moaned at the thought. "I haven't had one of those in a while."

Ruby furrowed her brow. "Where are you from?"

"Boston," Emma shrugged.

Ruby laughed and shook her head, accepting the blonde's answer. "Then a cheeseburger coming up."


Emma licked at the dabble of ketchup that oozed from the burger and coated her finger. The last bite held between her index and thumb was more bacon, cheese, and beef than it was bun, and Emma was enjoying every second of it. So engrossed in her food that she didn't even mind when Ruby shook her head and laughed at how much Emma overly enjoyed her meal. The waitress had made it a point to talk to Emma when she wasn't filling an order, and Emma appreciated the company.

The last of the burger gone, Emma licked at her fingers, smacking her lips before wiping her hands and pushing the plate away. Her fries were devoured as was the milkshake she had ordered with it. It was still early on in her leave. She'd have time to work it off.

"Thanks, Ruby," Emma nodded and placed a few bills on the table to cover her meal and tip. She slid off the stool and took steps backwards as she made her way to the door. "So down Main, right on Brighton, and right-"

Emma felt a presence behind her just as the bell jingled signalling a new arrival. She whirled quickly, startling the newcomer, and had just enough time to grasp her firmly around the biceps and spin her further into the diner. Before Emma could even think to utter an apology, the woman in question swatted out of Emma's grasp.

"Unhand me!" Emma released her, taking a step back at the tone. "Watch where you're going next time."

Emma raised an eyebrow at the brunette woman before her who was huffing and shaking off imaginary lint from her well tailored suit. "I didn't hit you," Emma pointed out.

She stopped her roving hands and glared up at Emma. "You could have."

"I doubt that."

The brunette rolled her eyes. "Unless you possess eyes at the back of your head, then I suggest you do what any civilized human does and walk properly."

With a huff the lady turned from Emma to walk the length of the counter and speak to whom Emma had discovered was Ruby's grandmother. Emma refrained from going over there and giving that lady a piece of her mind. She had much more important people to see. With her own indignant eye roll, Emma pushed open the door and marched back the way she had come.

It wasn't a long walk back to the clock tower where the bug was parked, but it was long enough to get Emma's nerves jumbled into a twist and for the butterflies in her stomach to flutter so rapidly she wondered if they were on something.

She dealt with people all the time. She could make friends if she absolutely had to. It wasn't a foreign concept. Just one she rarely personally engaged in. The brief thought that Regina wouldn't like her in real life came to the forefront of her brain not for the first time. Oh god, Emma suddenly remembered. She hates surprises. What if Regina hated her for springing up this visit? They joked about a meeting multiple times but neither ever confirmed plans. What if she's not even in town? She's a mayor, after all, she's probably doing mayorly things. What if Regina stopped writing to her because Emma listened to August who was famous for his impulses? Dammit.

Emma should write. Yeah. That was a good plan. She'd write to say if they'd like to meet up and that would settle that.

The war in her head was raging on even as she approached the clock tower. She didn't bother to cross the street when she saw it, her feet rooted to the spot on the sidewalk as she stared in disbelief. Her car had a boot on it.

"What the hell?" She questioned with outstretched arms and jogged the width of the street to inspect her bug. Against her better judgment, she yanked on the boot, unsurprised to find it firmly on. She groaned and cursed, looking for any street signs that proclaimed she couldn't park there, but finding none, she kicked at her car's tire in frustration before heading into her car and grabbing her rucksack, trudging angrily back to the diner.

This time her thoughts weren't filled on the anxiety of meeting Regina. Now it was the fact that the only big thing she ever possessed was locked up like some wild animal for no reason at all. What the hell was up with that? A Mercedes sped off just as she turned onto the diner patio and re-entered the restaurant.

"I knew you liked the burgers, but I didn't realize you liked them that much," Ruby teased when she noticed Emma's entry as she cleared a nearby table.

"My car got booted."

The waitress laughed out loud once and righted herself, bringing the tub of dirty dishes with her and around the counter as Emma followed. "That's hilarious."

"How?" Emma nearly screeched. "Does that usually happen here?"

"Only when you piss off that brunette you crashed into."

Emma turned to look at the spot where she had nearly collided with said brunette. "What stick is up her ass?"

Ruby furrowed her brow confused. "What?"

"So she just puts boots on people's cars," Emma spoke aloud.

Ruby shook her head to clear it. "What are you talking about? That's-"

The blonde shook her head, already turning to exit the diner. "I know someone who can help me out. Thanks, Ruby."

Ruby continued to stare on after Emma, thoroughly baffled by the turn of events. Granny sidled up next to her drying a mug with a dish rag. "She doesn't know that was Regina?"

The waitress shook her head, an intrigued smirk playing on her lips. "Nope. But she's going to."


When Regina had mentioned she lived in a small town, Emma didn't realize how true that statement was. Used to growing up from city to city, Emma found the fact that she was able to walk all the way to Mifflin Street from the diner in under twenty minutes to be quite the feat. It would have been less than a five minute drive if her car hadn't been booted, which still pissed Emma off the more she thought about it, but it gave her the time to take in the town on her walk to Regina's.

It was cool for the early April weather. It must have rained the day before since the air was damp yet muggy. Brighton Street seemed to be the beginning of Storybrooke's suburbs which ranged from refurbished firehouses turned lofts to dainty little bungalows. Nearly every house on that street was different. The apartment loft's front yard housed a large tree where a petite brunette was standing on a stepping ladder and placing a bird feeder on the aged tree's limbs. The woman in the yard gave Emma a wave, surprising the blonde at such friendly hospitality before waving back.

Other than her car incident, she was liking Storybrooke. It was a town with old roots and old families, white picket fences and tire swings, where everyone knew everyone's business but the community always came together when it counted. It was a town Emma wanted to live in as a kid, made fun of as a teenager, and now that she was walking through it as a young adult, Emma could see its value once again.

By the time she turned onto Mifflin, the white mansion on the corner immediately caught her attention. She didn't know how, but she had an inkling that it was Regina's house. She was the mayor after all. Of course she would be given the best house in town. A lone car drove down the street, and Emma almost stopped it, briefly believing it was Regina inside the vehicle, but the wisps of pale blonde hair made Emma realize her mistake and her anxiety. The nerves of finally meeting the woman resurfaced, battling with her frustration about her car. Regina could help her take care of that. Hopefully.

The long expanse of walkway leading from the sidewalk to Regina's front porch seemed like the longest stretch of concrete Emma had ever seen. And she had walked twenty miles in the blazing heat not weeks ago. Adjusting her sack around her shoulders, Emma took a steadying breath. Treat it like a mission, she told herself. Operation Pen Pal.

She took a step forward, soft thuds soundings from her combat boots as she walked up the precisely poured pavement. Faster than anticipated, Emma arrived at the door, staring up at the brass 108 screwed beside Regina's door panel.

She knocked three times.

The twenty-seven second wait had Emma holding her breath before she heard footsteps on the other side of the door, heard the lock click, and watched as the door parted open.

Emma's mouth slacked open when she saw the brunette she had run into at the diner, perfectly plucked eyebrows raised in confusion as she took in Emma on her porch. Emma's mind could only process one thing. Oh shit.

"Oh," Regina drawled. "You again."

Emma could only open and close her mouth as she stared at Regina dumbfounded.

"I suppose you have learned to use your eyes to walk, though I can't imagine why you chose to make your way to my property." Regina crossed her arms over her chest, making herself large in front of the open space of her door. When Emma didn't respond, Regina cocked her head to the side and stared expectantly. "Can I help you?"