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It's ten minutes to eleven on this overcast cloudy holiday night and sitting in front of the headlights of her Storybrooke Sheriff patrol car is the old abandoned Queen Anne-esque Mansion; the red peeling ' No Trespassing ' sign leaning at a strange angle near the gate that had been left wide open. The place looked like it really should have been condemned and torn down long ago but there it stood with myth and speculation swirling around it. The famous version of "Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas" by Bing Crosby plays over the radio as she quietly munches on sunflower seeds, her eyes never wavering away from the derelict house. A flash of moving headlights shine across her rearview mirror as the old familiar Mercedes comes crawling down the drive only to come to a stop on her passenger side. She clicks the button and the window rolls down and Mister Bing's voice pours out into the cold night air... and when the Mayor puts down her own window the same thing happens as both had been tune to the same station.

'...Have yourself a merry little Christmas, let your heart be light. From now on, our troubles will be out of sight....'

The blonde leans forward with a bright smile. "I almost gave up on you."

Regina pulls off her gloves, clearly not in the same cheerful mood as the other woman. "Sorry. Checkout lines were worse than rush hour on the 95. If I heard 'Silent Night' one more time I was going to start taking hostages." She now takes a moment to glance up at the old house looming over them. "What are we doing here?

"Stakeout." In her usual not so ladylike way, she spits some sunflower seed shells into the empty water bottle she held in her hand. 

Oh yes, Regina was not amused. She should have known better based on the vague text message the Sheriff had sent her earlier. "On Christmas Eve?" 

"It's an important date."

"No kidding."

The blonde spits the rest to the seeds out before recapping the bottle. "I meant it's important to why we're here." She motions over to the Mayor with a quick upward tilt of her chin. "Why don't you turn off your car and I'll fill you in on the details."

"Emma, I've got wrapping to do. It's the night before Christmas." Regina heaves a heavy sigh, half wondering if this was really where the city's taxes were going while their radio's still played on, Mister Bing refusing to give up.

'...Here we are as in olden days, happy golden days of yore...'

Emma looks in the back of the Mercedes. It is completely filled with bags and packages, all of which seemed already wrapped and ready to put under the tree. "Oh." She nods to herself... she could take a hint.

Regina shakes her head with a roll of her eyes as her window goes back up. Reluctantly she shuts off the engine, gets out of her car and joins the Sheriff... it could always be worst, it could be that little yellow death trap bug. She slams the door shut behind her before tightening her coat closed around her. "Alright, let's hear it. Give me the details."

"Look, if you've got Christmas stuff to do I don't want to... you know..."

"Emma, I drove all the way out here. I might as well know why, right?" She yanks off her scarf.

The blonde shrugs one of her shoulders. After everything they and the town had been through she thought for sure Regina would be interested. "I just thought you'd be more... curious."

Honey brown eyes take another look towards the dark structure. "Who lives in the house?"

"No one."

Regina raises a slow and confused eyebrow. "...Then who are we staking out?"

"The former occupants." Emma was doing her best to hold back a smirk.

"They've come back?"

"That's the story." The smirk is as bright as day on those lips almost as red as her mother's while an eyebrow wiggles over her baby blues.

"I see." Regina nods to herself, almost not daring to stay there for another second longer due to this ridiculousness. "The... the dark, gothic manor the, uh, omnipresent low fog hugging the thicket of overgrowth." She holds up a hand with a fake gasp. "Wait... is that a hound I hear baying out on the moors?" The fun leaves her face as the unimpressed mayoral one replaces it.

The Sheriff can't help but chuckle as her hands bury themselves in her signature red leather jacket. "No, actually that was a left cheek sneak."

"Emma, tell me you didn't call me out here on Christmas Eve to go ghost busting with you."

"Technically speaking they're called apparitions."

The older woman pinches the bridges of her nose and shakes her head in disbelief. "Call it what you want. I've got-... I've got holiday cheer to spread and in case you've forgotten there's a family roll call under your parents tree at 6:00 a.m. and I still can't figure out how I agreed to participate in that ." But she knew exactly how. Hearing the Charming's call her family was something she just couldn't get enough of so when they asked her to join them Christmas morning she immediately jumped for the occasion.... but now in retrospect, six in the morning was a bit early. Swiveling in the passenger seat she reaches for the handle but the doors all lock in unison. Her head snaps back to find the younger woman's hand on the button.

"I'll make it fast, Regina. Just give you the details." The brunette slowly turns to face her with a hesitant nod as if to tell her to hurry up. Emma's face becomes serious as she bends a knee to completely turn her body where she sat. "It was Christmas, 1917. It was a time of dark, dark despair. American soldiers were dying at an ungodly rate in a war-torn Europe while at home, a deadly strain of the flu virus attacked young and old alike. Tragedy was a visitor on every doorstep while a creeping hopelessness set in with every man, woman and child.... it was a time of dark, dark despair."

"You said that part already." Regina is looking at her with almost a blank stare aside from the unimpressed arched eyebrow.

The slight interruption doesn't seem to phase Emma's stride. "But here at 1501 Larkspur Lane..." She points up towards the house and Regina's brown eyes can't help but cast a glance in that direction. "...for a pair of star-crossed lovers tragedy came not from war or pestilence-- not by the boot heel of the bombardier-- but by their own innocent hand."

The Mayor looks back over to the Sheriff. Emma could clearly be just as dramatic as Snow, which explained Henry's flair for it as well, but her story-telling abilities were far better and, dare she say, even entertaining. "....Go on."

The blonde smiles with a slow nod, like she was acknowledging the fact that she'd won over the other woman. "His name was Maurice. He was a... a brooding but heroic young man beloved of Lyda, a sublime beauty with a light that seemed to follow her wherever she went. They were likened to two angels descended from heaven whom the gods could not protect from the horrors being visited upon this cold, grey earth."

"...And what happened to them?"

"Driven by a tragic fear of separation they forged a lovers' pact so that they might spend eternity together and not spend one precious Christmas apart."

"They killed themselves?" Regina sits up a little, clearly not expecting the story to go in this direction.

Emma nods. "...And their ghosts haunt this house every Christmas Eve." There's a pause in the air between them for just a second as they simply look at one another. "...I just gave myself chills."

Without warning, Regina chuckles. "It's a good story and very well told but... I don't believe it."

"You don't believe in ghosts?"

The Mayor pulls back a tad. "That surprises you?"

"Well... yeah. I thought everybody believed in ghosts. Especially after all the shit we've seen."

"Yes, well, that's in Storybrooke and if I'm not mistaken this house sits just over the town line. There's no magic here." She heaves a heavy sigh as her hands fidget with the scarf in her lap. "Emma, if it were any other night I might let you talk me into it but the halls are decked and I've got to go.... and so should you." Without another moment to waste, she gets out of the car only to watch as Emma does the same before locking the patrol car and heading across the lawn for the house. "What are you doing?" She doesn't get a response, the blonde slowly moving further and further away. "Hey, don't you have somewhere to be?... Snow will be looking for you if you don-.."

"I'm just going to take a look." The Sheriff calls out right before her red jacket and golden hair disappear around some shrubbery that lined the house.

Now left alone, Regina starts to get a little antsy... evident in the way she's flexing her hands at her sides, unable to make a fireball. Out here, they were on their own. "No... no, I'm not going to do it. I'm not going after her. It's my New Year's resolution." She shakes her head as she mumbles to herself. Emma was a grown ass woman.... the Savior for crying out loud. She could handle herself. Her hand wraps around the door handle of her Mercedes but it's locked fast. She pats herself down, checking her pockets...no keys. Taking a step back she leans over and looks into the patrol car...no keys. And just to triple check herself she peers over into her car... still no keys. Looks like she was going after that woman anyway.

The sound of the front double doors creak open as Emma enters the house. Digging a flashlight out of her pocket she turns it on and shines it around the foyer. Though obviously appearing to be abandoned there's no doubt anyone could easily see what sort of grandeur this place was back in it's heyday. A roll of thunder rumbles across the skies as Regina crosses the threshold behind her. "Hey!"

Emma jumps and spins around with a breath of relief, her flashlight nearly blinding the older woman. "Change your mind?"

Regina raises her hand to shield her eyes from the light in her face. "Did you take my car keys?

"No." She removes the light, flashing it back around the grand foyer at the cobwebs and caked on dust.

"Come on, Emma. Don't kid around."

"Why would I take your car keys?"

Regina looks around the place, finding she quite liked the old white flooring considering it was over a hundred years old. "Maybe you, uh... Maybe you grabbed them by mistake?"

"Or maybe it was a GhOsT." She tries her best to sound spooky but she can tell it just irritates Regina even more. However the silliness is cut short by the sound of knocking coming from above them, somewhere on either the second or third floor. Emma flicks the flashlight up in that direction as her breath hitches. Then the old grandfather clock near the entrance chimes, sending the entire foyer into a shiver. Regina spins around to face it, hands drawn out in front of her out of habit as the sound of a heavy wind whistling somewhere in the house. "That's a cold wind."

"Th- there must be a window open upstairs." The brunette smooths her hair down, trying her best to get a grip on herself. This was insane, there was no reason she should be on edge like this. "You know, the weather report said that there was an 80 percent chance of rain maybe even a... maybe even a white Christmas." Another crackle of thunder crashes and with it the front doors are slammed shut making both women jump. Regina very nearly runs to try to open them but they don't budge. 

"I think the spirits are among us."

"Emma, will you quit trying to scare me and help me get these doors open." She throws something akin to her old Evil Queen glances towards the younger woman but she seems to be too enthralled with the house.

More knocking sounds trickle down like there's somebody walking around upstairs and it makes them freeze again. The blonde shines her light towards the stairs again. "There. You hear that?"

"I really have to go." Regina is choosing to ignore whatever she was hearing, choosing to force herself to believe what she was hearing wasn't real at all.

"There's nothing to be afraid of." 

"I'm not afraid, okay?"

"Ghosts are benevolent entities." What sounds like chains clanking above them along with either a moaning spirit or a foul wind. "...well, mostly."

Once she's finally able to pull her attention away from the noise, Regina checks her watch just as Emma starts up the stairs and essentially leaves her left alone. The older woman tilts her wrist so she can see the face of her watch... it's 11:03. She looks up, taking a slight step and a half towards the clock in the hall that had just chimed. It also reads 11:03. Well that was certainly strange, this place was suppose to be abandoned. She turns back towards the stairs just in time to watch those old boots vanish at the top of the stairs. "Emma, look, I really have to get home." Still, the younger of the two doesn't seem to be paying her any mind but Regina is starting to feel like maybe they weren't alone after all. Another but stronger bolt of lightening flashes behind her and just as she turns back to look towards the dark dusty diningroom she swears she sees a silhouette illuminated by the quick flash from the window. When the lightening strikes again, the figure is gone and Regina doesn't waste anytime dashing up the stairs. "Emma?"

The Sheriff was completely oblivious, still following the sounds but they seemed be getting fainter. "Shh! What was that?" Another soft knock captures her attention until it stops again.

The Mayor comes to a stop on the second landing. "Emma, these are tricks that the mind plays. They are ingrained clichés from a thousand different horror films. When we hear a sound, we get a chill. We-...we see a shadow and we allow ourselves to imagine something that an otherwise rational person would discount out of hand. The whole..." She watches as her friend isn't paying attention. Slowly moving in the dark following the beam of the flashlight as she tried each door down the hall but finding every one locked. Regina takes a deep breath in an attempt to calm herself before following the blonde down the hall. "...The whole idea of a benevolent entity fits perfectly with what I'm saying. That a spirit would materialize or return for no other purpose than to show itself is silly and ridiculous. I mean, what it really shows is how silly and ridiculous we have become in believing in such things. I mean that... that we can ignore all natural laws about the corporeal body..." Emma tries yet another locked door, this time giving the handle a good twist just to make sure. "...that-that we witness these spirits in shabby outfits with the same old haircuts and hairstyles never aging, never... never in search of a more comfortable surrounding.... it actually ends up saying more about the living than it does about the dead." 

Emma opens her mouth to say something but she's interrupted by one of the previously locked doors creaking open by itself to reveal light pouring out into the pitch black hallway. Both women quickly turn to face it, the Sheriff's flashlight and now gun pointing in that direction. Regina stands there with eyes wide open and mouth hanging agape. Emma swallows hard. "....Now tell me you're not afraid."

"Alright. I'm afraid...... but it's an irrational fear." Neither one of them move but finally the Mayor takes a few breaths then slowly heads for the cracked open door.

Emma, on the other hand, finds herself nearly frozen in fear. A chill runs down her spine as she clears her throat to find her voice again. "..I, uh... I got your back."

Regina quickly looks back at her with narrowed eyes and a sarcastic grin with a whispered "Thank you". She pauses for half a second, giving her friend one more look before pushing the door open and looking inside. She scoffs then takes a step back out into the hall. "Emma, did it occur to you that there aren't ghosts here but that somebody actually might be living in this house?"

The blonde scrunches up her face as her gun falls to her side. "No one lives here."

"But when you and I were sitting out in the car there was not a light on.... and now look at this." Regina shoves the door wide open and the pair of them step through. The door lead to a iron walkway looking down on an elegant turn of the century two story library. There are a couple of rugs and two old highback overstuffed leather chairs that looked a bit rough but the wooden floors appeared to be swept with big heavy doors on either end. The rest of the furniture in the room below is covered with white cloths like someone was getting ready to paint and while there are indeed spiderwebs clinging to the two chandeliers above them the lights are on and fulling lighting up the whole space. 

Emma frowns as she reholsters her gun. "Must have been some kind of electrical surge."

Regina rolls her eyes. "Did you happen to notice the clock downstairs is keeping perfect time?"

"It is?"

The brunette nods. "And how do you explain that?" She points over the banister towards the fireplace, indicating the smoke coming from it before climbing down the cast-iron ladder to the lower level. Stooping in front of the hearth she holds her hand out. "This fire has just gone out." Still Emma says nothing but her drooping posture says it all. "Don't look so disappointed."

The Sheriff puts a hand on her hip. "Why would anyone want to live in a cursed house?"

"It's not enough that it's haunted? It has to be cursed too?"

"Every couple that's ever lived here has met a tragic end. Three double murders in the last 80 years. All on Christmas Eve." She clearly had either been digging into the history of this house for far too long or listening to the drunken tales of the Dwarves. Before Regina can say anything to combat that the sound of a door slamming echoes above them. "Whoa... There's that sound again." A thumping in the floor boards catches them off-guard. They look down to find a few of them bulging up in movement. Emma quickly slides one of the highback chairs out of the way and puts her ear down to the floor.

Regina has a sickening feeling building up in her stomach. They shouldn't be here. She backs away but when she hears the door they had come through creak again she looks up. The door has shut itself.... then notices that the ladder that lead back up to the upper level of the library is missing. She blinks a couple times, unable to believe what happening. "....uh... Emma?" She turns back to find the Sheriff fighting to get a grip on a wooden plank. "Wait, what are you doing?"

"I think there's a hiding space under the floorboards."

"And?"

"And there may be somebody trapped under there."

Regina takes several steps forward, placing a stern hand to the Sheriff's shoulder. "Emma, don't."

"I've got to get them out."

"No, stop."

Emma relaxes where she's kneeling and leans back on her feet, looking up at her partner. "Here." She unclips her gun and hands it over. "Rationally, you've been in much more dangerous situations." Regina still looks hesitant even after she takes the gun, swallowing a deep breath as the blonde begins pulling up floor boards. One breaks free and with a click of the flashlight they both look... the hole exposes a very dead woman. "...well, I was half right."

Regina gasps. "Oh my God." Another couple boards are pulled up only to reveal the body of a second woman. One of the corpses appear to have a bullet wound to the belly while the other has a wound to the chest. "Emma, it looks like they were shot to death." Her back straightens as she observes the two bodies a little closer. "You know what's weird?.... That one is wearing my outfit." She nods towards the one that had been shot in the stomach as both are wearing a white blouse, black dress pants and a long black jacket.

The younger woman does a double take before chuckling. "How embarrassing."

"Yeah, well, you know what? She's wearing yours."

The smile drop as Emma looks at the other body. Sure enough, the dead woman is dressed in dark jeans, a blood stained white t-shirt and a faded red leather jacket. She looks down at herself then back again as she feels a protective hand back on her shoulder. "Oh... Regina..." Lightening crashes and they are plunged into darkness again.

"That's us!" The older woman practically pulls the other up to her feet before they're both running across the room to the opposite door and out into... the library again? They freeze for a moment, trying to understand if they had somehow stepped into yet another library that just happened to be a mirror image of the one they were previously in or if something more was at play. Regina's hand is grabbed by Emma's as they are running again across the room and through the opposite door for the second time only to receive the same incredible result. "What the-.... this is the same room!" For the third time they try again and surprise, surprise... they enter the library again, complete with decomposed bodies in a hole in front of the fireplace.

Emma pants as she looks around, trying to get a grip on herself and the situation. "Okay. I'm beginning to... to get this."

Regina nods. "You-... you go through that door and..."

"..and I should come out... this door."

"Right." The blonde straightens her jacket as she crosses to the opposite end of the room, glancing back again at Regina before exiting into the library for the forth time. Regina turns, waiting for the young woman to enter the door next to her, but she doesn't. Another beat passes and still Emma doesn't emerge from behind the door. The older woman peeks behind it only to see an empty replicate of the room she's already in. "Emma?" In a brisk pace she darts across the room only to have the second door slam shut in front of her. She grabs the knob but it's bolted stiff. "Emma?!" She bangs on the door violently. "EMMA!" They've been separated.

"Hey, Regina!" She pauses, waiting to hear a reply but none comes. "Regina, can you hear me?!" She places her ear to the door but can't hear anything on the otherside but there is only silence. She pulls away, releasing a huff as she reaches down into her boot to retrieve her trusty .380 she kept as a backup. Taking a step or so away, she shields her face and turns away before firing two shots into the lock of the door, blowing it clean off. She smiles to herself, pulling the door open ready to great Regina with some smart-ass remark but she only comes face to face with a brick wall. Suddenly the lights come on with a flick of the switch and Emma spins around with flashlight and gun drawn in that direction to find an old man wearing a hat now in the room. "Hey! Who are you?!"

"That's a question I should be asking being this is my house you're standing in. This isn't one of those home invasions, is it?" He points a convicting finger at Sheriff badge clipped to her belt.

"...uh...no?"

"Good." He shuffles over, flicking another switch and the room gets brighter as he grumbles. "Now would you like me to show you the door?"

Emma snorts. "That's very funny."

"I wasn't making a joke." The old man raises a confused eyebrow as he shoves his hands into his pockets. He's a gentle looking man, maybe a hair taller than her and dressed in brown loafers, olive slacks in the same matching colour as his hat and a grandpa looking sweater. 

The blonde relaxes, her gun dropping down to hang at her side. "Have you looked at the door?"

"Uh-huh, I'm looking at it now." He tilts he head to the side, looking clear past Emma to the door that's wide open.

She clicks the flashlight off and takes a step to the side. "Oh yeah? Tell me what you see."

"I see a door with the lock shot off it. You going to pay for that?"

Using the tip of the pistol, she points towards it. "That's a door with a brick wall behind it!"

The old man looks again, brow furrowing in disbelief. "....Okay, sure."

Something in Emma's gut is telling her things aren't adding up. "You're playing tricks on me. That's all you've been doing since we got here."

"We? ...Am I to take it we're not alone?"

Emma pauses then chuckles. "Ah, that's very funny coming from a ghost."

"A gho-..?" The old man stops for a second then laughs heartily, both hands coming out of his pockets and slapping together in near joy. "Oh... the gun fooled me a little at first. You're a ghost hunter, huh? And you think I'm a ghost?" He laughs again. "You know, I've seen a lot of strange folks coming around here with a lot of strange equipment but I think you must be the first I've seen come armed."

"Strange folks?... Like the ones under the floor?" She clicks her light back on and turns, shining her light to the hole she had made but the corpses are missing and the floor looks untouched. This surprise catches her off guard and she takes a step to where the mess should be. "How did you do that?"

"I didn't do anything."

Now the Sheriff is getting irritated. Ghosts or not, she'd have to report the bodies to someone but now they were missing. "There were corpses here! Bodies buried under the floorboards!"

The smile fades away from the old gentleman's face as he takes a step closer. "Why don't you have a seat, child." Emma does so instantly. Flopping down the highback overstuffed chair she sure she had moved over to the side earlier. "You been drinking?" She shakes her head. "Take drugs?" Again, she shakes her head. "Get high?"

"No."

"Are you overcome by the impulse to make everyone believe you?" Emma looks up at him in surprise and confusion. "I'm in the field of mental health." He lowers himself into the opposite chair. "I specialize in disorders and manias related to pathological behavior as it pertains to the paranormal."

The blonde leans back in the chair. "Wow. I didn't know such a thing existed."

"My specialty is in what I call soul prospectors. A crossaxial classification I've codified by extensive interaction with visitors like yourself." He leans back, pulling out a cigar and some matches from his pocket. "I've found you all tend to fall into pretty much the same category."

"And what category is that?"

"Narcissistic, overzealous, self-righteous egomaniac."

Emma pauses, watching as the man lights the tobacco and draws on a couple puffs. "That's a category?"

He smiles to himself, happy with his analysis of her. "You kindly think of yourself as single-minded but you're prone to obsessive compulsiveness workaholism, antisocialism... a fertile field for the descent into a total wacko breakdown."

"I don't think tha-.."

"Oh, really? Waving a gun around my house? Huh? Raving like a lunatic about some imaginary bodies under the floor and a brick wall?" Emma turns where she sits, looking over at the brick wall in the doorway. "Hell, you've probably convinced yourself fairy-tales are real." He takes another puff. "You know why you think you see the things you do?"

"Uh, because I have seen them?"

He shakes his head. "It's because you're lonely. A lonely human chasing paramasturbatory illusions that you believe will give your life meaning and significance and which your pathetic social maladjustment makes impossible for you to find elsewhere. You probably consider yourself passionate, serious, misunderstood. Am I right?"

Emma's eyes shoot wide open as a heavy confused wrinkle settles on her brow. "...para-... paramasturbatory?"

He nods. "Most people would probably rather stick their fingers in a wall socket than spend a minute with you."

Now those words light a fire within her and she moves to slide herself out of the chair. "Alright, now just... just back off for a second."

"Do you spend every Christmas this way... alone?"

She stops herself, her voice changing into something she recognized; something more confident. "I'm not alone."

"Huh, more self-delusion."

She shakes her head as she stands. "No, I came here with my partner, she's somewhere in the house." She pauses for half a second after realizing what she had just verbally called Regina, knowing she wished the woman to be more than just that to her.

"Where? Behind a brick wall?" Emma makes a sarcastic smile as he takes a long drag off his cigar. "How'd you get her to come with you? Steal her car keys?" The woman's smile drops. Nestled safely in one of her pockets were the keys to the Mercedes. "You know why you do it-... listening endlessly to her droning rationalizations. It's because you're afraid. Afraid of the loneliness. Am I right?"

"I'd just like to find her and get out of here." Emma is done with this night and with this man. The quicker she could find Regina, the quicker she could get home and have herself a well deserved drink.

"Good... Easy. Piece of cake." The old man puts out his cigar, gets up and walks through the clear doorway... the one where the brick wall just was, turns and faces the Sheriff. "Brick wall?" He points to the doorway. "...Or brick wall?" He points to his own head. "Go ahead, take control and change your life." Emma stands there, clearly hesitant but there before her is a clear doorway. She sighs to herself knowing this was going to be an interesting talk with Archie once she got back to Storybrooke. She takes a breath and walks forward toward the old man... but her face slams into the brick wall that's back again. Emma hold her nose and turns to see the library plunge back into darkness as the old man has disappeared.

"Emma?" Regina backs away from the locked door in front of her. She turns to head back to the other door and screams when she sees an older woman dressed in a long white dressing gown. The woman screams back, frantically trying to find light switch on the wall. "I'm the Mayor of Storybrooke and I'm armed!"

The old woman finally turns on lights, panting with one hand to her chest. "You're what?"

"I said I'm armed!" Regina is shaking so badly she can barely hold the gun straight.

"You said... you're a mayor?"

She swallows hard, now getting a good look at the woman in front of her. A fragile older woman with piercing blue eyes and long light grey hair that's pulled back in a low clip, but she's definitely solid and not transparent. "Please, I'm a little on edge. Don't come any closer. My name is Regina Mills and, uh, I can... I can show you my I.D."

"My goodness." She chuckles and shoves some loose strands behind her ear. "I... I thought you were a ghost."

"I can assure you that I'm not. I, uh, I got stuck in this room looking for my friend, she's a Sheriff."

"Oh, the gangly blonde with the distinguished red jacket."

The gun drops down to the Mayor's side. "You've seen her?"

The woman nods, adjusting her nightgown and robe. "With you in the foyer. I thought she was a ghost, too."

"Oh... that was you." Regina sucks in a deep sigh of relief, realizing what she had seen downstairs wasn't actually an apparition.

"I sleepwalk sometimes. I thought maybe I'd dreamed it. But then here you were again." The lady chuckles again.

"I am sorry.." Now finally able to catch her breath, the brunette lets a snort of a chuckle out as well. "... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. I, uh... it's just that we found bodies."

The smile vanishes from the woman. "Bodies... where?"

"Right here." Regina turns and points to the hole.... only it's gone. The floor is undisturbed and the chair is back where it was. She feels herself pale as her anxiety starts going back up.

"You look like you saw a ghost. There are ghosts in this house, you know." The woman takes a step forward.

Regina spins around with the shaking gun raised again. "Who are you?"

"I live here, thank you very much." 

"Where's my partner?" There's no time to think about how easy it was for that word to roll from her lips; how easy it was to call Emma that.

The woman holds her head high, the tone in her voice changing. "Why are you pointing that gun?"

"There were corpses right there underneath the floor!" She knows what he saw and she knows for damn sure that she's not going crazy.

The old woman chuckles. "I think maybe the ghosts have been playing tricks on you."

"I don't believe in ghosts."

"Then what are you doing here?"

Regina wets her lips, the gun still pointing straight out ahead in front of her. "It's my friend, she believes."

"Oh, you poor child. You must have an awful small life. Spending your Christmas Eve with her... running around chasing things you don't even believe in." She takes another step closer, her white nightgown flowing as she does.

"Don't come any closer."

The woman doesn't listen as she moves closer still. "I can see it in your face... the fear... the conflicted yearnings... a subconscious desire to find fulfillment through another. Intimacy through co-dependency."

The Mayor brow wrinkles as she stops. ".....what the fu-"

"Maybe you repress the truth about why you're really here pretending it's out of duty or loyalty, unable to admit your dirty little secret. Your only joy in life is proving her wrong."

"You don't know me and you don't live here... this isn't your house!" She focuses again, her hand adjusting on the grip of the borrowed pistol.

The older woman crosses her arms with a huff. "You wouldn't think so, the way I'm being treated."

Just then, an old gentleman with an olive hat enters the room. Stopping stone cold still when he sees the gun. Regina now points the gun in his direction, her heart pumping in her ears. "Hold it right there, don't make me shoot you!"

The old man chuckles and he looks over to the woman in white. "We really attract them, don't we?"

"Where is Emma Swan?"

The man looks back to the Mayor. "Emma? Is that her name?" He shrugs. "She'll be along."

Regina hesitates, her eyes darting back and forth between the two people in front of her as she started weigh different options in her head. She decides and clears her throat, trying to find a voice that sounded authoritative. "Alright, both of you move. Move over there." They just look at her like they think she's joking. "I said move over there!" She gestures with the front end of the gun that she wanted them near the fireplace... that appears to be lit now. 

The man holds out his hand and the woman takes it, the pair of them moving close together giving the impression they're husband and wife. "This violates our civil rights. I have friends at the ACLU who will hear about this!"

Regina is done giving a shit, knowing full well that once she crossed back into Storybrooke she'd be safe. "Put your hands up!" The couple look at each other and roll their eyes, obeying the command. That's when time stops and Regina feels like her heart stops with it.

The old woman's robe pulls open to reveal a gunshot hole through her abdomen... a big gaping hole so big that the Mayor is staring straight through at the flapping flames in the hearth. Slowly her eyes drag over to the old man whose hands are also still up. She takes crawling step forward as her gun drops to her side while her other hand reaches out to slide the hat off. There's a gunshot hole through is head. Regina's eyes widen even more before rolling back in her head as she faints, dropping with a thud straight to the floor. The couples hands fall to their sides.

"You see what we've resorted to?" The old man leans over and picks up his hat, placing it back on his head with a grumble. "Gimmicks and cheap tricks. We used to be so good at this."

The greyhaired lady closes her robe and ties it shut. "We used to have years to drive them mad. Now we get one night." 

"This pop psychology approach is crap. All it does is annoy them. When's the last time we actually haunted anyone?"

The woman slides her hands up the man's chest and she leans into him, reminiscing about the good old days. "When was the last time we had a good double murder? Not since the house was condemned."

The cigar that he had been chomping on earlier reappears in his hand and he shakes his head. "This is embarrassing-- amateur kid stuff."

The woman slips her hand under his chin and makes him look at her. "Look, if we let our reputations slip they're going to take us off the tourist literature. Last year no one even showed up."

"Of all days, why did you pick Christmas? Why not Halloween?"

She grabs him by the lapels roughly but also playfully. "Now, who is filled with hopelessness and futility on Halloween? Christmas comes but once a year."

"You're right." He grins, taking a quick puff. "And these two do seem pretty miserable. We need to show them just how lonely Christmas can be."

"Now that's the old Yuletide spirit!" The two kiss and begin laughing.

Emma is straining to pull herself up to the upper level of the library as she has used several pieces of furniture to climb up to the metal walkway. She's just about got the upper half of her body onto the landing when an old woman comes sweeping in the door she and Regina had first originally used to get into the room.

"Are you Sheriff Swan?"

The blonde grunts as she finally manages to get herself up, puling her legs up and stumbling to her feet. "...and who are you now?"

"What are you doing using my chairs as a ladder?" The woman doesn't look impressed, glancing over the railing to her furniture that was now covered in dusty boot-marks.

Emma watches her, slightly confused as to how this woman had known her name. "I'm trying to get out of this room. Now, if you'll excuse me." She moves forward, heading for the second floor's door but she's blocked by the lady.

"No, no. You can't get out that way." The Sheriff hesitates, then pokes the old woman in the shoulder... she's solid. With an unamused look on her face, she grabs the woman by the shoulders and pushes her against the wall and out of the way. The lady scoffs. "Masher."

"Frump." Happy with herself, the young woman opens the door and is confronted by another brick wall.

"I don't know who you're calling a frump but I don't appreciate being manhandled or called names. Certainly not at this hour." 

Emma spins around with eyes as big as saucers, watching as the woman holds her nightgown and robe as she descends the now reappeared ladder. "You're.. you're a ghost!"

"Ah! More names!"

She doesn't hesitate, quickly following the woman dressed in white back down to the lower level. "What happened to the star-crossed lovers?"

"Oh, let me tell you the romance is the first thing to go."

The Sheriff's mouth falls open. "It's you.... you're Lyda... and that was Maurice." She frowns, a bit surprised to see them as an old couple. "But you've aged?"

Lyda scoffs. "I hope your partner finds you a lot more 'charming' than I do." She gives Emma a good look up and down before prancing over to bookcase. "Now let's see. Where is it?" The spirit mutters to herself as the books pull out of bookcase by themselves. "No, no, no, no..." She continues, as the books quickly fly in and out while she searches for the one she's after. Emma stands there smiling, completely amazed. "Ah! There it is!" The selected book flies out of the case and into her hand before she shuffles over to the fireplace and flops down in one of the chairs, Emma following quietly behind her. "I was young and beautiful once, just like your friend." At those words, Emma blushes and casually looks away. The fireplace suddenly bursts to life with flames, lighting up the small space. Lyda flips through the book, stopping on the page with a photograph on it. "Look at us. Maurice was so handsome." The fire blazes up. "He didn't have a gut back then." She as she turns the book around and holds it out towards the younger woman. Emma takes it, looking over the picture of the attractive couple in it titles as ' The Tale of the Star Crossed Lovers.' "I hope you're not expecting any great advantages to all this."

"To all what?"

Lyda pulls her legs up into the chair like a child, looking up at her. "I'm assuming you two came here with similar plans."

Emma closes the book and folds her arms. "What?...We came here looking for you."

Now it's the ghost's turn to look confused. "So you didn't come here to be together for eternity?"

The blonde nervously chuckles. "No."

"...and you're not filled with despair and woeful Christmas melancholy?"

Emma shakes her head. "No, why would I be?"

Lyda sighs, pushing some hair from her face as she tries to work things out. "Maybe it was your friend, then."

The smile fades from the young woman's face. "What about her?"

"You knew this house was haunted."

"Well, yeah."

"Then maybe you two should have discussed your real feelings before you came out here. I'm speaking from experience."

Real feelings? Emma's heart picks up the pace. "What experience?"

The ghost stands, holding her hands up. "I'm not going to get into semantics but a murder-suicide is all about trust."

"Wait, I thought you had a lovers' pact?"

"Poetic illusions aside, the outcome, Emma, is pretty much the same." The greyhaired woman holds open her robe exposing the gaping massive buckshot wound.

Emma nearly drops the book, turning away in disgust. "WOAH! HEY!"

Lyda winks with a smirk, happy with the reaction. "I don't show my hole to just anyone."

"So why are you showing it to me?!"

The old woman shrugs as she reties her robe. "It isn't like you're going to be eating any Christmas ham, is it?"

The Sheriff stops, taking a second for her brain to catch up. "....are you trying to tell me that Regina's going to shoot me. Regina is not going to shoot me."

"Mmmm, suit yourself, but if you shoot first, for her, the rest is an act of faith."

Emma shakes her head. "I wouldn't shoot her."

"Maybe she shoots herself."

"No." The book is placed on the table between the two highback chairs before she points a confident finger towards Lyda. "I wouldn't let her."

The old woman curiously taps at her lips. "The bodies under the floor?... maybe that was just some kind of Jungian symbolism. Or maybe... there's a secret lovers' pact?"

Emma sighs with a sad smile. "We're not lovers."

"And this isn't a pure science. But you're both so attractive and there'll be a lot of time to work that out in the afterlife." She holds a familiar gun out. "Go ahead, take it." The Sheriff quickly checks her waistband and finds that her backup gun is missing from where she had put it. Her gaze flashes up to Lyda's bright blue eyes. "Take it. Think of it as the last Christmas you'll ever spend alone." The ghost disappears right in front of her, letting the gun fall into a surprised Sheriff's hand. The fire extinguishes itself and the room descends back into darkness.

Regina wakes up to the sound of nothing. The room is dark and quiet and when she sits up and looks around she finds nothing but Emma's gun beside her. This was going to be several intense sessions with the Cricket when she got back to town. Back on her feet, she dashes over to the closest door but she finds it's locked fast.

"I locked it. For your protection."

Regina whips around to face the voice, now finding the man with the hat sitting in front of a freshly lit fireplace... a ghostly fire that wasn't there a second ago. "Stay away from me. I am quite capable of pulling this trigger."

He slightly turns to look at her from where he sits, the cigar stuck in the corner of his mouth. "I'm glad to hear it. You may well have to defend yourself against that crazy partner of yours."

"What have you done with her?!

"Kept her safe from her own mad devices... at least for now. Do you have any idea why she brought you here to this house?"

Regina feels like this has got to be what it means to go mad. "Look, all I know is this is just some bad dream. This is all in my head!"

The man stands and faces her. "Yet here you are waving a gun at me."

Suddenly, there's a pounding at the door that makes the Mayor jump. "Hey, Regina!" It's Emma's voice on the otherside.

The old man looks at the door then back to the brunette standing in front of him. "Do you realize how seriously disturbed she is? How dark and lonely... what she's capable of?"

More banging. "Regina?!"

"Emma!" She starts to run to the door.

"Want your car keys?"

Regina stops. Dangling from the man's hand is her car keys as he holds them out in front of him. She stares at them then up unto those dark brown eyes watching her. "Where did you get those?"

He takes a long drag off his cigar then motions to the door with a nod of his head. "She's got nowhere to go this Christmas. No one to go with. Did she happen to mention a story about a lovers' pact?"

The man knew nothing of Emma's life and his words ignite something within her. The gun is raised to his chest as she's forced to repeat the question with narrowed eyes. "Where did you get those keys?"

"Your friend is acting out an unconscious yearning. The deep-seated terror of being alone."

More pounding on the door. "Regina, are you there?"

The Mayor doesn't take her eyes of the man in front of her. "I'm here, Emma!" She slowly walks over and yanks the keys from the ghost's hand, the firearm still pointed at him. "Open the door."

Maurice sighs and shakes his head in what appears to be disappointment, the cigar disappearing from between his fingers as he moves for the door. "I've seen it happen too many times in this house."

"I don't believe you. Just open the door."

"But..."

"Open the door!" Regina focuses down the barrel the gun as she's completely fed up with this strange night.

The ghost opens the door and Emma enters the room with her secondary gun drawn pointing at Maurice. "Where's Regina?"

"I'm here." Without warning, the Sheriff turns and fires her gun with no hesitation causing Regina to flinch and duck down. "Emma, what are you doing?!" The gun is fired again in her direction. "Miss Swan!"

"There's no getting out of here, Regina. There's no way home!" It's like she's the one who has gone off the deep end. Firing again causing a mirror above the fireplace to shatter behind the Mayor.

"Emma, come on! .....don't come any closer, you're scaring me! Put the gun down!" She keeps her gun drawn but she's finding it difficult to point it at her friend. 

"Aren't you going to shoot me?!"

Regina shakes her head wildly. "I'm not going to shoot you!" She watches as Emma takes another step closer and realizes difficult choices were going to have to be made but she wants to fight it. "I don't want to shoot you!"

The blonde laughs is borderline maniacal. "It's me or you... You or me. One of us has to do it!"

"No, Emma, look... We don't have to do this!"

"Oh, yes, we do. Even if we could get out of here, what's waiting for us? More loneliness! And then 365 more shopping days till even more loneliness!"

"I don't believe what you're saying, I don't believe a word of it!"

A sudden serious look crosses Emma's face as she lowers the angle of the gun and fires.

Everything stops.

Regina drops her gun and stares at the woman before her. Slowly, she looks down in shock at the bullet wound in her abdomen, the blood spreading and staining her shirt just like the corpse under the floorboards. She looks back up at Emma who is biting her lower lip as if in pain herself but still has a wild look in her eyes. Regina stumbles a few steps backwards as she falls to the floor, still staring up at her dear friend and nearly taking a small table down as she collapses. 

".....Merry Christmas, Regina." The hot barrel of the gun is raised to her own temple. "...and a happy New Year."

Maurice quickly steps over Regina and restrains Emma from firing the gun... Emma who now phases back into Lyda. "Let me go!" The old grey-haired woman struggles against her husband who chuckles as he drags her out of the room. "I wasn't finished my performance!"

After what felt like hours of trying to pry the door open, Emma is finally successful. Entering yet another dark replicated library but there's a dark figure on the floor. "Regina?" She quickly runs to her friend's side, horror-stricken to find the woman bleeding out. Those dark brown eyes turn to face her. "What did you do?!" 

"I didn't believe it, Emma." Her voice sounds so weak.

"You didn't believe what?" She drops her gun and presses her hands into the wound.

"I didn't believe that you'd do it... That I would..." Before she can question what she means, Emma feels something hard against her ribs and looks down.... Regina now has the gun and it's pressed against her chest. "Merry Christmas, Emma." She fires the gun and the young woman falls back in shock, bleeding from the chest. A wound to mirror that of the second corpse they'd found.

Somewhere in the house, an old phonograph player switches itself on and begins playing "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas", the same song that had started this whole night. The tune echoes throughout the house as Regina groggily rolls over and begins pulling herself out of the room.

'...Have yourself a merry little Christmas, let yourself heart be light.
From now on, your troubles will be out of sight...'

Stumbling down the stairs, and bleeding heavily, Emma comes nearly tumbling down the last few steps until she reaches the bottom. Falling to her knees into the foyer which already has a trail of blood across it. She braces herself and looks up to see Regina a few feet ahead of her, crawling to the front door. The Sheriff drags in a laboured breath. "...Regina." The brunette doesn't stop her painful crawl towards her goal. Emma gasps for air, building up the strength to call out the name again as she slides down to her chest, now matching the Mayor's crawling position. "Regina."

This time the woman stops, all movement from her ceasing for a second before she grunts and rolls over onto her back. She groans again as she leans up, pointing the gun she'd been given at Emma and the younger woman manages to point her little blood soaked .380 back at her. Regina is struggling, taking quick breaths in her nose and out her mouth for just a handful of seconds before it all becomes too much. The gun falls to the floor, clattering against the old marble tiles as she falls back and whispers. "...I-...I'm not going to make it."

Emma's posture relaxes, her own gun pulling away. "No, you're not... not without me, you're not."

"Are you afraid, Emma?" Now she gasps for air as cold ice-piercing pain shatters her bones. "I am."

"I am, too." The Sheriff's cheek drops to the blood trail on the floor. Even at the near bitter end, Emma can't help but pick. "You should have thought of this."

Regina painfully scoffs. "Me? You should have."

"I can't believe you shot me."

If she wasn't dying, the Mayor would have picked up the gun beside her and finish the job. "Yeah, well you shot me first!" She coughs, the taste up blood bubbling up and sending her mind into a million different directions.

Silence surrounds them as the Christmas tune still carries down the halls. Suddenly, with a dawning realization, Emma's head shoots up. No, she didn't shoot Regina... she'd never shoot her. She quickly gets to her knees and presses her fingers into the faux bullet wound. She scoffs and smiles as she stands up. "Regina... Regina, get up." 

The brunette groans in irritation before coughing again. "I can't."

With boots sliding in a trail of blood, Emma wobbles over to her and holds out a helping hand. "Get up... you're not shot. See?" The Sheriff holds the bloody shirt away from her chest with a smile on her face. "Come on. It's a trick. It's all in your head." Regina looks up at her confused but takes her hand anyway. Emma pulls her to her feet and watches as Regina holds out her own bloody shirt. She looks down, feeling the spot where she'd felt the pain but now nothing was there. It was all in their heads! She quickly flashes a surprised look up at Emma. With their hands locked together, they both run out the now unlocked front doors and once outside they find themselves clean clothes. Not stopping to question what the hell just happened, they run to their cars and practically race in reverse down the drive and out the gate.

Back inside the old abandoned mansion, the grandfather clock in the foyer begins striking twelve before it finally dies. In the library, Lyda takes a sip of her wine as Maurice crosses his ankles. The pair of them sitting in the two highback overstuffed chairs, relaxing in front of a warm fire. "You hear that? It's Christmas."

He sighs with a hum and a nod, folding his arms across his chest. "One for the books."

"We almost had those two, didn't we?"

He chuckles and glances over at his beloved. "Almost."

"Two such lonely souls."

"Now we can't let our failures haunt us."

The wine glass hovers at her lips. "Makes me wonder what they were really out here looking for."

"Hard to say. People now... Christmas is just another joyless day of the year for them."

Lyda looks over to her husband, extending an open hand towards him. "Not for us, though."

Maurice looks her way and smiles as he takes her hand with a squeeze. "No. We haven't forgotten the meaning of Christmas."

They hold hands for another second before fading away. The room growing cold and dark as the fire vanishes with them, the book still sitting on the table. Sitting and waiting until next year.

The fireplace crackles, the only light illuminating the living-room aside from the decorated Christmas tree in the corner next to the bay windows and the television. The black and white 1951 'Scrooge' plays softly in the background as Regina sits on one of the far ends of her sofa. She's still in her clothes from earlier but now shoeless and wrapped up in a blanket as she stares at the screen, not really watching the movie. She's so tired but just can't find it in herself to sleep even though she knows she's expected at the Charming's in about three hours. Suddenly there is a knocking sound. She bolts up, looking up at the ceiling waiting to hear if Henry was out of bed but then realizes it was the front door when another rap comes. She looks around the corner of the wall, peering into the foyer before shutting off the tv and opening the door. There stands Emma, also still dressed in her jeans and that damned red jacket.

"I, uh... I couldn't sleep. I was, um..." She sighs, not quite sure what more she could say to explain herself.

"Come in." Regina can't help but smile, putting an arm around her shoulders and pulling her into the manor before closing the door. They are both clearly exhausted from their adventure but the younger woman looks nervous. Her eyes darting around like she's unsure of herself and surprisingly the Mayor is in the same boat. "Emma?... None of that really happened out there tonight... That was all in our heads, right?"

The woman's mouth hangs open for a second as if that had been the question she was about to ask. "I-..it must have been."

"Mmm." Regina nods to herself. "I mean, n-..not that, uh, my only joy in life is proving you wrong."

"When have you proved me wrong?" Emma's hands burrow unto her jacket pockets as a gentle grin enters her lips while a quizzical eyebrow raises.

Regina crosses her arms. "Well... why else would you want me out there with you?"

"You didn't want to be there?" Regina has no answer but they both think about it, both clearly knowing the answer to the question... both now realizing the feelings they had for one another. The Sheriff straightens herself out, clearing her throat as she self-analyzes. "Oh, sorry... that's, um... that's self-righteous and narcissistic of me to say, isn't it?"

Instantly, the brunette uncrosses her arms, laying a soft hand to Emma's own. "No, I mean... maybe... maybe I did want to be out there with you." They look at each other for a moment and the world seems to slow down... almost melting away. The Mayor slowly withdraws her hand and clears her throat, breaking the mood. "Look, um... I know we said that we weren't going to exchange gifts but, uh... I got you... a little something." She steps away with a shy smile, retrieving a small box from beneath the tree an holds it out.

"Oh, Regina..." She take the present, the grin graduating into a smile. "Well.... I got you a little something, too." Her opposite hand resurfaces from her jacket pocket with a wrapped gift in her grasp. Embarrassed, she holds it out and Regina chuckles as she accepts the present. Emma shakes hers, grinning happily and nearly mischievously. Then, like children, they run over to the couch and begin opening their gifts together as snow drifts quietly to blanket the town.....

'....Through the years we all will be together, if the Fates allow.
Hang a shining star upon the highest bough.
And have yourself a merry... little Christmas now....'

~FIN~