Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Just having fun!

A/N: I wrote this about an hour after the finale aired tonight. It was something I wanted to see, and hopefully we'll get it in season 2. The finale was absolutely fantastic.

Paige was making the walk toward Storybrooke General to visit her classmate and friend, Henry, after hearing he had been rushed to the hospital. She had made him a Get Well card, adorned with smiley faces and well wishes, which she carried along with the patchwork stuffed rabbit she had had since as long as she could remember. Paige wondered if the stuffed animal would make him feel any better, considering it was something that stood by her bedside whenever she was running a fever or plagued with a terrible cough.

She was walking between her parents, nearing the hospital, when a gust of wind kicked up and blew over them, nearly knocking Paige off her feet. If it wasn't for her mother's steadying hand on the small of her back, she would have stumbled backward onto the sidewalk. Righting herself, Paige's mind suddenly filled with familiar images and memories-wonderful memories filled with tea cups and laughter and a kind man in a sweeping orange coat. Memories where her name was Grace, not Paige.

Paige blinked, looking up at the man and woman at her sides; not her parents, but the people who often watched after her when her papa was busy working, working places she couldn't follow. She remembered, now.

She was Grace. And she had a father-her dear Papa-who loved her.

Her mind raced. "Papa," she whispered, wondering where he was here. What had happened to him?

Grace left her neighbors in her wake, who were calling after her with worry, and raced forward, not knowing where to go, where to begin, or what she was doing. She only thought of one thing-the one person she had been desperately missing this whole time. It felt like waking up from a terribly strange dream after a nap and being unable to find her bearings, disoriented.

"Papa?" she called. "Where are you?"

Jefferson had been wandering around town for the last day, keeping close to the goings-on between Emma and Henry's fate rather than locking himself up in his mansion. He'd already done his part by getting back at Regina, and now he had to wait to see how everything progressed. The last thing he expected—so soon, at least—was to see the townspeople of Storybrooke stumbling about in a daze, sharing confused glances. And that was when Jefferson smiled-actually, really smiled-because he knew it had happened. He knew, after 28 long years, that Emma Swan, the savior, had broken the curse.

"Oh, Emma," he grinned. "I knew you could do it."

This also meant of course that here his Grace, his daughter, finally knew who he was. They weren't home, but they could be together again, and that's all he had wanted in the end. They could share a life here that would be better than anything he could ever give her back where they had come from.

He just had to find her first.

Grace's feet carried her quickly, her sharp eyes darting over faces as they sat together trying to make sense of what had just transpired. None of them matched that of her father, and she was beginning to worry. Back home, she had always been able to find him, but here in this strange new world he was nowhere in sight. Grace had no idea if she could get to him or if he was even here at all.

"Papa?" she shouted. Grace hoped he would be within earshot to hear her. "Papa!"

She stood near the town square clutching her stuffed rabbit to her chest, tears beginning to sting at the corners of her eyes. Grace let her eyes close and wrapped her arms tightly around her animal friend, chin resting behind his fluffy ears. Silently, she wished and hoped for her father to come to her, to grab her hand and tell her everything was all right again.

And her wish came true.

"Grace!"

Her eyes fluttered open at the sound-that wonderful, fantastic sound-and immediately saw her father running toward her. He looked different, but it was him all the same and Grace was so happy to see him that she let the stubborn tears flow down her cheeks.

"Papa!" she yelled as she made a beeline straight to him, rabbit still tucked against her chest, "Papa, you found me!"

Jefferson gathered his daughter to him, dropping to his knees to wrap his arms around her. Her rabbit fell from her hands, caught up in the moment, to the pavement beside them.

He didn't ever want to think about letting go, never again. Grace let her arms encircle his neck, burying her face into the crook of his shoulder.

"Grace," Jefferson replied, voice breaking, "I love you so much, sweetheart."

"I love you," Grace said, pulling herself away for a moment to look at her father. She wiped away her tears with the back of her palm and grinned. Her fingers brushed along Jefferson's cheek to dry his tears as well. "I missed you, Papa. I thought I'd never see you again."

Jefferson swept his daughter's hair out of her face, his thumb tracing across her cheek.

"Me, too," he admitted. His tone was still laced with emotion. "I'll never leave you again. Never. Not for anything in this whole world or any world. I promise."

Jefferson leaned over and picked up the white rabbit, handing it to his daughter with a fond smirk.

"Now," he told Grace, "I believe I owe you a tea party."