For the first time in a long time, Storybrooke awoke in peace. No curses looming, no magic pouring out of enchanted aquifers, just a simple wholesome small town peace. Emma awoke to it in welcome, stretching a little as she heard the telltale sounds of David putting the coffee on and Mary Margaret humming to herself. Sleepily, she swung her legs over, smiling when she heard Henry greet his grandparents cheerfully.

Her phone buzzed a little and she picked it up. Her cheeks warmed as she read the text message and she cleared her throat, trying to squelch the butterflies in her stomach. She gave the message one last reread before padding downstairs to join her family for breakfast.

Across town, Neal was brushing his teeth, looking forward to coffee and bagels downstairs. He tried to keep his eyes from drifting to his phone, to check if Emma had replied. His phone remained silent.

In the forest, Marian stepped out of her tent, admiring the way the morning light hit the tree branches. Her son giggled as Little John chased him around the campfire, yelling that the boy better give back the cast iron pot, or they'd be eating raw Roland for breakfast. Robin appeared behind Marian, putting his arms around her. She was tempted to lean into his warmth, to accept him wholeheartedly—but she remained stiff as a board. She couldn't forget the anguish in Regina's expression the previous night. She could not forget Robin's sadness when he looked at her.

She could not forget that however briefly—her husband had been with that woman.

In the largest house in Storybrooke, Regina's eyes flicked open. Sunlight streamed into her room and she sleepily rose on one elbow, reaching for a glass of water at her bedside. She took a long drink before suddenly remembering that she was not alone in her bed.

"Ugh," Regina grumbled to herself. Killian Jones was asleep next to her, proof of what she'd hoped had been a lonely, drunken dream. She was rarely that lucky.

"Get up," She ordered, poking his bare shoulder. "Killian—wake up!"

He groaned into the pillow and raised his head slightly. He took in Regina's disheveled appearance and smiled lazily.

"So it wasn't a dream," He purred reaching towards her. Impatiently, she swatted his hand away.

"Just a night of bad decisions," She replied smoothly. "Something I'm sure you're used to. You can see yourself out." She glided towards her closet, picking out a black skirt and ivory blouse.

Hook watched her contentedly. "Not much for morning cuddles, are you?" He cracked a grin at her, to which she responded with a disgusted glance.

"I don't have time to assuage your male ego," She said crisply. "You can make yourself some coffee downstairs. Then I expect you to leave."

"Have it your way, then," Hook replied comfortably, hopping off the bed. She kept her back turned to him as she heard him shrug into his breeches. He stepped towards her, approaching from behind, winding an arm around her waist.

"I enjoyed this," He murmured in her ear. "Call on me again."

"Doubtful," Regina said coldly. "You're not a priority right now."

XXXX

"Robin," One of the merry men called out. "We've visitors."

Robin glanced forward, seeing a woman in lilac approach their company. A tall young man stood next to her, holding an infant, keeping a wary eye on their band. The woman cleared her throat.

"My name is Aurora," She said clearly. "And my husband, Philip. We used to rule one of the kingdoms in our world—or our parents did, anyway."

Philip inclined his head towards them and Robin smiled. "We remember you," He said pleasantly. "What can we help you with?"

"We're searching for our friend," Philip said seriously. "Since the second curse, we have not seen the warrior Mulan in Storybrooke—but we know she parted ways with us and joined your company. Can you tell us what happened to her?"

Robin glanced at Little John, whose face became impassive. The merry men shifted uncomfortably.

"I'm sorry to say we don't know what happened to her," Robin said evenly. "She was a welcome addition to our family but since we've arrived in Storybrooke, we've not seen hide nor hair of her."

Aurora's brow furrowed. "But you must know something," She insisted. "She went off with you all so suddenly. Was there—any sort of special mission, any task she had to complete, before the curse hit?"

Friar Tuck coughed. Robin smiled sadly.

"I'm very sorry we couldn't be more help," He said gently. "Mulan was a good friend to all of us. If you find out where she is, I hope you'll be good enough to send word."

Aurora stepped back in disappointment. Philip eyed Robin somewhat skeptically but nodded, soothing the baby, who'd begun to fuss. As they walked away together, Marian turned towards Robin.

"You lied to them," Her voice was low, not accusing, merely perplexed.

"We didn't lie," Little John defended. "We don't know where she is."

"But there's more to it, isn't there?" Marian pressed. "What happened to their friend?"

"Marian," Robin said gravely. "Leave it."

"Leave it?!" She thundered. "Why should we—"

"Because you're back!" Robin snapped. "Because you're here—safe and alive. With our son. We're together again and I will do nothing, nothing that will endanger that ever again. You trusted me before….please, trust me again." He took her hands kissing them sweetly. Marian closed her eyes at his touch, thanking God she was back where she belonged.

She would not press the issue. For now.

XXXX

"Am I seriously going back to school?" Henry complained.

Emma ruffled his hair. "Where else would you be going?"

"I dunno—y'know, I figured after getting our memories back and coming to Storybrooke again, there'd be bigger fish to fry. Less middle school gym class, more sword fights and dragon slaying," Henry pointed out.

Emma laughed. "Well, maybe your teachers will have a new curriculum now that things are finally settled and peaceful."

"Don't jinx it, Mom," Henry said warningly. "Hey, Dad!" He greeted suddenly, seeing Neal jog up to them.

"Hey kid," Neal greeted him cheerfully. He was holding two to-go cups of hot chocolate and generously handed them over. Henry took a long sip, relishing the chocolate, while Neal and Emma met each others eyes, smiling shyly.

He cleared his throat. "So—"

"Henry!"

All three of them turned to see Regina striding towards them. Emma stiffened noticeably and Neal's mouth set in a firm line.

"I need to talk to Henry," Regina said without preamble.

"Yeah, well Henry has to get to school," Emma snapped. "He's already running late."

"Mom, it's okay," Henry tried to break in. "I can talk to her, I don't mind."

"I said no," Emma took a step forward, bearing down on Regina. "And she knows why."

Neal took Henry's arm. "C'mon, kid," He said gruffly. "Let's get you to school. Emma—call me if you need anything." She nodded towards him and he briskly walked Henry off.

"He's still my son," Regina's voice quivered. "He still loves me."

"That may be the case," Emma snapped. "But you're going to have to earn spending time with him. After what you did to Graham. After what you did to Marian."

"That's not fair!" She shouted. "You know I've been trying to change, trying to be better for Henry!"

"At what point?" Emma roared, her face contorted in fury. "When you squeezed the life out of Graham because he dared to love me more than you? When you and your mom spent the previous year trying to kill everyone in this town? When have you put Henry first? When are you going to realize that your desire for Henry is selfish and about you, not him!"

Regina stopped short. For the first time in her life, she seemed at a loss for words. She stared at Emma's fuming countenance and cleared her throat.

"What—what can I do," Her voice was small. "What can I do to get Henry back?"

"At the moment, nothing," Emma snarled. "Try apologizing to Marian and then work from there." She turned on her heel, leaving Regina alone on the sidewalk.

XXXX

Neal eyed Regina and Emma as he led Henry down the walkway. The conversation did not appear to be going well.

"Dad," Henry coughed. "I'm really okay with talking to her…why is Mom so mad?"

Neal sighed in response. "Your mom…she just discovered that an old friend of hers was killed by Regina. And she's having a hard time accepting that, especially since we saw that guy when we were thrown back into the past."

His son was quiet for a long moment. "Was it Graham?"

Neal stilled. "You knew him?"

Henry nodded. "He used to be the sheriff here. He died after Emma came here—and they got really close. I knew it was my mom that killed him, I guess it didn't occur to Emma till now…" His expression became brooding, thoughtful, and Neal was uncomfortably aware that his son bore a resemblance to Rumplestiltskin in this.

Henry stiffened and Neal glanced forward, seeing Hook approach them. The pirate was wincing in the sunlight, as if nursing a bad headache, but he gave them a grim smile.

"Hello boys," He greeted them amiably. "Fine morning, isn't it?"

"Hook," Neal said in a slightly guarded voice. "What do you want?"

"Just wanted to see my favorite lads," He grinned at them toothily. "Off to school then, eh?"

"Unless I can talk Dad out of it," Henry said hopefully, earning a chuckle from Neal. Hook beamed, obviously pleased to have warranted a pleasant moment.

"I think that's a fine idea," He suggested eagerly. "What say you we all skive off, go sailing for a little bit? I've heard there are some caves nearby that could stand for some investigation."

"I don't think so," Neal said firmly. "Henry's going to school." The bus pulled up and regretfully, Henry hugged his father, hopping onboard. Neal waved at him before turning to face Hook fully.

"What are you doing?" He wanted to know.

"What do you mean?"

"Why are you acting like this?" Neal asked suspiciously. "Trying to be all buddy-buddy? Last I checked, you and I weren't on the same team."

"Of course we're on the same team!" Hook said offended. "Your lad means the world to me, why else would I have come with you lot to Neverland? What's more, I gave you my blessing to pursue Emma, didn't I?"

"You did that when you thought I was dead and what the hell makes you think I need your blessing?" Neal tapped his foot impatiently. "Seriously, Hook—what's your deal?"

Killian sighed, running his fingers through his hair. "Look—I know I've made mistakes in the past. But despite what you may think, despite my thick-headed moments—you're important to me. I want to do right by you, and your family."

Neal watched him for a long while. "All right," Neal said finally. "You wanna do right by me and my family? Start with Belle."

Hook blinked. "What?"

"Belle," Neal folded his arms. "You know, the woman you've terrorized several times over the past two years? The woman you shot because you wanted to get to Rumple, the woman you terrified so badly in the library, she locked herself up in the elevator, the woman you nearly killed when she was captive by Regina?"

Hook rubbed his neck awkwardly.

"Belle's my family," Neal told him sternly. "Kind of like my stepmother now, I guess. But whatever, you owe her an apology."

It clearly had never occurred to Hook that Belle was her own person, not just an extension of Rumplestiltskin's to wound. Processing this, Hook gave a small imperceptible nod.

"Good," Neal said satisfied. "But uh…wait a week, will you? They're on their honeymoon and if you interrupt them, even I can't save you from my pop's wrath."

XXXX

Belle sat on the corner of the bed frowning as she perused an ancient tome. She was clad in only a white shirt that she'd swiped from her new husband, and she absently drank a cup of tea, brows furrowed as she scanned the spidery script. The cabin was secluded, inviting privacy and solitude, something Belle and Rumplestiltskin were in desperate need of.

"Belle?" Gold entered the bedroom and she glanced up, smiling at his entrance. She felt a burst of warmth and pride that she could now call him her husband.

"Just doing a little reading," She greeted him, stretching a little. His eyes roved over her small form and she flushed, pleased at the attention. It had been a very good honeymoon.

"Reading on what?" Gold joined her on the bed, wrapping his arms around her. He kissed below her earlobe and she inhaled sharply.

"The Dark One's dagger," Belle replied, abruptly jolting him out of his ministrations. "I think it may come from Slavic origins…or, our world's equivalent."

Gold gently turned her around. "Why are you researching the dagger?"

She chewed her lip. "I don't like it having control over you…and I don't like me having control over you, come to that. What's more…I don't you ever used like a tool again—Zelena, she…I know she hurt you."

Gold cleared his throat, attempting to banish the memory of acid green eyes, laughing as he struggled against the compulsion of the dagger. He winced at the memory and Belle rubbed his arms.

"If we broke your bond to the dagger," She said quietly. "It wouldn't rule you any longer."

He was quiet for a long moment. "Would that…would that take my power away too?"

"Would that be such a bad thing?" Belle asked earnestly. "What need to you have of magic any longer? You've got your son back, we're married, the evil with Zelena is over and done with. We could start living out our own happily ever after."

Live without magic?

He'd done so once before. Once upon a time. In another time, another place, a life that felt so far away he often wondered if it had been a dream. He'd been a sniveling coward, practically a beggar—but his son had loved him nevertheless. He felt certain, at any rate, that Belle would love him regardless too.

But he had leaned on magic for so long…and this was Storybrooke. There would be recurring danger every day, for as long as they both lived. He had made a lot of enemies in 200 years.

"No, Belle," Gold shook his head. "You mustn't research it any longer. A lost cause, sweetheart."

Belle's lower lip stuck out in stubbornness. "I don't believe that."

"The dagger is ancient," Gold told her. "I don't even know if it originates from our world truly. There is no way to break my bond from the dagger—except to kill me, and a new Dark One take my place."

"All curses can be broken," Belle whispered to him and he smiled at that. He kissed her tenderly, her lips tingling against his. True love's kiss may not work the same way it did in their old land, but he felt it every moment with Belle.

"There is no curse," Gold said gently. "As long as I'm with you." He kissed her again, his lips starting to trail down the corner of her mouth to her jaw-line. Belle closed her eyes and sighed as he drew her into his arms. She would let her new husband love her, take them both away from reality—it was their honeymoon, after all. But she was far from through with her research.

XXXX

"Emma!"

Emma glanced up to see Aurora burst through the doors of the sheriff's office, a determined glint in her eyes. Philip trailed behind her, holding their son.

"Aurora," She set down her coffee cup. "Everything okay?"

"I need your help," Aurora said without preamble. "It's Mulan. She's not here—she's not with the Merry Men, she's not anywhere in Storybrooke—she's just gone, and we have to find her!"

"Slow down," Emma stood, circling around her desk to join them. "We'll figure this out. She can't just be gone."

"Everyone in the Enchanted Forest is supposed to be here," Aurora took a deep breath. "We need to take a census or something to be sure—but I've looked everywhere, asked everyone—no one has seen her!"

"Originally, she went off with the Merry Men," Philip spoke up, bouncing their baby a little. "But Robin wasn't able to tell us anything." His eyes narrowed and Emma realized that Philip was of the opinion that the outlaw wasn't sharing everything.

"I know we're all trying to take a breath after all that's happened," Aurora attempted a reasonable tone. "And I'm not trying to imply something insidious is happening—but Emma, Mulan is our closest friend. She means everything to us. And I just—I just don't understand why she wouldn't seek us out in Storybrooke, at least to make sure we're all right."

A shadow fell across Philip's face, something Emma noticed but did not fully understand. But as soon as she had, it was gone.

"Please, Emma," Philip's voice was pleading. "We need to find her."

Emma nodded. "Okay," She cleared her throat. "I like your census idea. Let's start there and work are way forward."

XXXX

Neal was wiping down the counters when the door to the pawnshop jangled. A woman breezed in, clad completely in black, carefully removing an artfully decorated hat. She was class from head to toe, wearing an expensive-looking wrap dress, a deep purple scarf wrapped around her pale throat. She lowered her sunglasses and smiled at him.

"Is Mr. Gold here?" She purred, her voice like velvet. Neal blinked warily.

"Sorry," He tossed the rag behind him. "He's on his honeymoon. I'm holding up the fort while he's gone."

"Really," Her bright eyes sparkled. "How lovely for him. Unfortunately, my business is rather urgent—if you have a number you could reach him at…"

"Sorry," Neal replied again, a little more firmly. "But they're under a strict Do Not Disturb command. I can pass along a message for you if you want, but unless I can help you, you're out of luck."

"Hm," The woman said softly, her eyes narrowing. "You're his son, aren't you?"

"Yeah," Neal crossed his arms. "What about it?" Something about this woman bothered him, though he couldn't put a finger on what.

Her lips curved into a smile. "I may just have use for you."

Before Neal could respond, the doors to the pawnshop opened and Emma came inside. She gave him a shy smile before moving towards the side, waiting for Neal to finish up.

"Anything else you need?" Neal asked the woman impatiently.

"Not just now," She said smoothly. "I think I'll browse, if you don't mind. Good day, Miss Swan." She nodded towards Emma who glanced at her, returning the nod. She approached the counter and Neal smiled at her.

"You're working here?" She cocked her head to the side. "I don't really see you as the pawnbroker type."

"Just doing my old man a favor," Neal replied, leaning against the glass. "You know Gold—doing him a favor might come in handy later on."

Emma smirked. "You are your father's son."

"Gee thanks," Neal rolled his eyes. His eyes fell towards her hand, lightly resting on the glass countertop. His fingers twitched a little, but he resisted the urge to take her hands.

"So, um," Emma cleared her throat. "About—about what happened at your dad's wedding."

Neal nodded and waited for her to go on. Her mouth opened a little, but she seemed to have nothing to say.

"I—it's not—we're, you see…I don't even know where I'm going," Emma exhaled in frustration.

"Emma," Neal said gently. "It's fine. There's no expectation. If…you wanna pretend like it didn't happen…that's all right."

"I don't want that," Emma replied immediately and her quick response made him smile. Tentatively, she covered his hand with hers.

"It's just—obviously a lot's happened in the last couple of years," Emma took a deep breath. "And I'm still trying to figure out where I'm at in all of this. I know I belong here, I know this his home, and I know I'm Henry's mom and he's the best thing I've got. But anything else? It's just…a lot."

Neal nodded in understanding.

"And it's not that I don't want to be with you, and it's not that the kiss didn't mean anything," Emma swallowed. "But—I'm nervous about this. I'm nervous about it getting screwed up again and it hurting Henry. And I just—I'm not sure where to go from that point…"

"We can go slow," Neal said softly. "Emma, I don't expect you anything. I don't want to push you, not after everything that's happened. I want to go at your pace, I want you to be ready for wherever we're at. You and Henry mean everything to me, and I agree…I don't want to screw this up again."

She smiled then, so heartbreakingly, that it took all of Neal's willpower not to lean over and kiss her right then. He settled for squeezing her hand instead.

"How about this," Emma suggested. "Tomorrow, we're having a mandatory town meeting in the courthouse. We're doing a census and I guess discussing who's going to be in charge of Storybrooke."

Neal's eyebrow quirked. "Not Regina?"

"Well, since we never really had a non-cursed vote for her, no," Emma said wryly. "Snow was talking about having a democratic election—she's been reading up on American history, won't stop talking about it. I think David's more into the monarchy, but.—anyway," Emma shook her head to get back on point. "How about after—you and I get that meal we never got around to?"

Neal smiled slowly. "I think that sounds great."

The two of them smiled at each other a little awkwardly, before Emma squeezed Neal's hands once more. In the back, Maleficent exited the pawnshop, smiling to herself.

A town meeting, hm?