A/N: So this idea came to me when I was trying to go on a peaceful walk and I had to run home and write it out. I'm thinking it will be a short story, like maybe 5 chapters, but I could make it into more. I haven't decided! I'm going to decide how much I'll develop the story based on the response it gets. So please please leave reviews and let me know what you're thinking!

"What do you think Emma? Do you like it?" Snow stood in front of an average size light brown paneled house. It was obviously much nicer and bigger than any apartment they had stayed in.

"Yes," Emma said, her hand in her moms. "Are we gonna iive here?"

"I think so," Snow breathed, taking it in. She was by no means wealthy on an elementary teachers salary, but she was making enough to make mortgage on a house. She had been saving every penny she could for four years. Now that she finished her last classes, her job and income was officially stable enough to afford it. She really wanted Emma to grow up in a house, not a tiny two-bedroom apartment with teenagers and college students as their neighbors all around. She wanted something permanent.

"Should we take a look inside?" The realtor suggested, gesturing towards the front door. With Emma in tow, Snow followed the woman through the entrance way. Right in front of her was a wooden staircase, to the right was an empty open dining room area, and to the left was some type of tv room with glass doors. She already loved it. Emma had broken free and ran down the hallway to the kitchen area. It was a large area with an island and space for a kitchen table. Immediately Snow could picture Emma growing up here. She could see long talks at the island with her, therapeutic baking sessions in the middle of the night, or making four dozen cupcakes in one night when Emma forgot to tell her she needed them for school the next day. To the side of the kitchen was a large space for a living room.

"What do ya think?" The realtor said, kneeling down to Emma's eye level, who was taking in the kitchen.

Emma shied away and looked to her mom before responding. "I ike it," she admits.

"I'm glad to hear it," the realtor smiled. "Would you like to look at upstairs?"

Emma nodded, excited at the idea. "Go ahead," Snow told her daughter. "I'll follow you up." This was all Emma needed to take off up the staircase.

"So what are you thinking?"

"I like it a lot," Snow admitted. "It's a little over my price range."

"What were you thinking?"

"If you could get it down five thousand, I'll sign today." The realtors eyes lit up at the words sign today.

"Okay..." she said, the gears in her mind moving, "okay, let me crunch some numbers. Meanwhile, why don't you check out the upstairs with your daughter? I might have to call my boss and see what we can do."

"Great. Thank you so much." Snow said and moved towards the staircase. She found Emma in the bedroom in the corner. It had an octagonal shape bay window with a bench attached to it. There was a walk-in closet and a bathroom connected to the room.

"What are you thinking?" Snow asked, coming up behind Emma. Emma jumped, obviously not realizing her mom had come up. Her eyes were animated looking around the room.

"Can this be my woom?" Emma asked. Snow knew it wasn't for sure that they would live here, that she should tell Emma to wait until it's official, but somehow she knew this is where they were going to end up. She opened her mouth to tell Emma that it was the perfect room for her.

"Ahh, I see you found the Princess room." The realtor said, coming up behind her. "It's fit only for real princesses." Snow's breath caught in her throat for a moment before seeing Emma happily dancing around the empty room, the realtor laughing. It didn't mean anything. "I had to call my boss," she continued, facing Snow. "I'm sorry. There's no way we can get it down five grand. But the seller is willing to lower it 3800."

Snow looked at Emma, still dancing to whatever beat was in her own little mind, before responding. "Where do I sign?"

"Are you ready?"

"Uh-huh."

"Do you have your new sneakers?" Emma nodded. "Your sweater in case the classrooms get cold?" Another satisfied nod. "Your new backpack?" At this Emma looked taken off guard. She ran up the stairs to her room to get her new backpack. It was a penguin with a face on the front, the front pouch at the bottom being an orange beak. Emma had picked it out excitedly. When she put it on, it looked bigger than her. She ran to her mom waiting by the front door.

"Well then, let's go! Did you put your plate in the sink?"

"Uh-huh."

On the way, Snow tried to prepare Emma as best she could. Really, she had to prepare herself. Emma was in daycare while Snow was working, but the idea of Emma being in a real classroom was overwhelming. She was growing up too fast.

"Mumma?" Emma said, breaking Snow's train of thought.

"Yes?"

"When do I get to take the bus?" Snow laughed, looking at her daughter in her booster seat, staring enviously through the window.

"Well, first-graders take the bus, so that means that will be you on that bus next year."

"For real?"

"Well, do you trust me?"

"What's trust mean?" Emma asked curiously.

Snow smiled and looked in the rearview mirror. "It means that you always know how much I love you, and that you know I'll always put you before anyone else when I have to make hard choices."

"Of course I know that, Mumma!"

"Good. Because I wouldn't lie to you," Snow promised. "Next year, I'm going to be waving bye to you on that bus! Do you know how old you'll be?"

"Five!"

"Well, yes, you're five now sweetie. But do you know how old you'll be on your next birthday?"

Emma thought about it for a minute. "Four!"

"You were four, then you turned five." Snow explained, "do you remember what comes after five?"

"Six?"

"Yes! Very good, Emma! You're so smart!" Snow responded to her daughter as if the word six was the answer to all the world's problems. She couldn't help it, her daughter being so smart made her swell with pride. She only wished she could share the privilege of watching Emma grow up with her husband.

"Hey James, how ya doing today?"

"Hey Ry, same as usual," he replied, picking up a clipboard with the schedule for the day. "You?"

"Same old, same old," Ryan said, brushing a golden lab's fur coat. James had been working at the animal shelter grooming, dogs mostly, for almost five years now, when he ended up in this world totally lost. He was looking for a quick job, and he ended up really enjoying it. He wasn't living like a king with the money, but he was surviving. Ryan had been here since he started, and they were about the same age. They had always gotten along, although James sometimes felt a little more mature. "Hey, you know Meg's friend Imogen? She really wants to meet you. She won't stop asking. What do you say? Tonight? We could all go out."

"I told you, Ry. I'm not interested."

"Come on, man. When's the last time you got some?"

"None of your business." James said brusquely.

"Look, I know you're on the whole I-have-a-wife-and-I'm-hell-bent-on-finding-her kick still but-"

"It's not a kick. I have a wife, and I will never stop looking for her."

"Look, James," Ryan sighed. "I'm worried about you. I don't know what happened to your wife, but it's been five years. She's gone. Was there an accident? Was she hurt? Maybe this is how you handle the trauma. But I think it would really do you good to get out there a little. It doesn't have to mean anything. We can all just go as a group of friends."

James looked at his friend hopelessly. There was nothing he wanted to do less. But he knew his friend was sincerely concerned, and he didn't want to make it a weird work environment.

"Okay," he sighed. "As friends. And then you leave me alone."

"Of course buddy," Ryan said, giving James a slap on the back.