Melinda sat still, unable to move a muscle as the strange fellow tried his very best to explain things to her. When he revealed he used to be the animal Bree was friends with, Melinda did not look surprised at all. She only nodded and hummed when necessary.

"You mean to say you're not from around here then?" Melinda finally asked when the young man was done.

He shook his head. "I am not."

"America? You're not from America?" She asked again.

"No, i'm not. Beautiful country but i'm not a citizen." He said whilst snuggling his coffee mug. He felt incredibly exposed as a human being and hated it. Beasley had been some sort of shield against the cold for a long time and he despised how he missed all the advantages that came with being a wild beast.

"Are you Australian, then?" Melinda asked. She also held on to her mug as though it was the only thing connecting her to the real world.

"No!"

"You most certainly must be from Africa or Europe maybe." Melinda said.

"Probably. It's a shame i've never looked up my home on a global map before. Bree does the best research with her laptop." He said mentioning the last word with care.

"About you two, how long have you been friends?" Melinda asked, placing her mug on the counter.

Frances wanted to laugh. Melinda was full of questions just like her daughter was.

"uh, months. I don't know." He said flicking his fingers.

"She was with you all that time she went missing, wasn't she? Where were you two anyway? And you came to the police station? What happened to those men that were chasing after you?"

Once Melinda started, she couldn't stop. The questions kept spilling out of her like a leakage.

"Mom? Can you please stop already?" Someone yawned from behind.

"Bree!" Frances called quietly.

Bree smiled apologetically at him. "sorry about my mom and passing out on you."

Frances stood up and walked over to her. "It's fine. We were just having a little chat and you were excessively exhausted. Feeling better?"

"Much better. Thank you." Bree replied.

Melinda watched the pair smiling and holding hands.

"Whoa whoa!" She said whilst standing up and accidentally knocked her mug off the counter. "oops!"

"Make that the third mug you've broken in a month." Bree said rolling her eyes.

Melinda pouted in disappointment. "It was my favorite."

Frances walked over and squatted then picked up the larger part of the broken mug. One by one, he began to piece the remnants together.

"What in the. . . .?" Melinda asked with wide eyes as she watched pieces of glass glue back together like they hadn't being broken.

A few more touches later, Frances stood up and handed the mug, all fixed up and without as much as a scratch, to a shocked Melinda.

"You can still do that?!" Bree asked walking over to Frances. He took her hand.

"I don't know. I'm glad it worked. Would've been embarrassing if it hadn't." He replied with a laugh.

Melinda rotated the mug in her grasp, trying to check for cracks but there was none. She looked up at Frances, her jaw slightly hanging.

"That's. . . impossible. How did you. . .?"

"I can fix broken stuff. It's magic and i don't understand it myself but. . ."

"Have you tried fixing the ruins?" Bree interrupted.

"Hundreds of times, yes. The bricks just come off like normal bricks." He replied with a sad shrug.

"I thought all the magic stopped working, how do you still have this one?" She asked again.

"I don't know." Frances said.

"What are you two talking about?" Melinda asked placing her mug down, gently this time.

"Maybe you could try fixing the ruins again. We can go there right now." Bree said.

"uhn-uhn!" Melinda objected.

Frances cupped Bree's cheeks. His hands were still warm from holding a hot coffee mug. "You need to rest more. If you still want to, we'll go there tomorrow."

Bree smiled and nodded. Her head feeling fuzzy. "Okay"

To her surprise, Frances kissed her gently on her forehead. She found herself unable to blink or speak until he took her hand and led her back to the living room.

"Okay!" Melinda inhaled deeply and followed.

"You haven't had any rest since you got here so it's your turn to go to sleep." Bree said folding her arms.

Frances was about to object before Melinda stepped in. "Yeah, you look tired and could use a nap."

"I'm not tired." Frances objected whilst trying to stifle a yawn but failed. Melinda and Bree kept staring sternly at him until he finally gave up.

"Alright, fine! You win." He said contemplating on how much sway the women in his lives had over him. Bree and her mother had gotten him to retreat without so much of an argument. His mother and grandmother would've done a lot more than that. Maybe this world has tougher ladies, he thought as Bree led him to her bedroom.

"You want me to sleep here? Are you sure about this? I could sleep on the couch." He protested. Although it felt a little awkward sleeping in a normal sized bed after such a long time, Frances couldn't help but feel comfortable in Bree's room.

It was warmer in here and had the smell of new books and coffee. Something Bree claimed she never drank or brought into her room. Her room was neat with a medium sized bed by the corner, made with sheets of dark colors. She had a beautiful vanity table that was strangely empty save for a few items on it. The floors of the entire house was covered in warm rugs so he didn't have to wear shoes inside.

"It's fine. Go ahead." Bree prodded, nudging him gently in the side.

"I'd ask you to come share but i don't think that's appropriate." He said, his eyes squinting in consideration.

Bree laughed and nodded. "It would be and by the way, my mom would come knocking forever. I've never had a guy sleep over before."

Frances turned to her. "I see. well, i'm a very light sleeper so don't be surprised if i walk out of here in the next 20 minutes."

"Light sleeper? Pff! Have you seen you sleep as. . . ." Bree pursed her lips to prevent completing her sentence. Frances smiled and kissed her gently on the lips.

"I know. I used to sleep like a bear back then but i guess my old form was the opposite of me in every way." He said intertwining their fingers. Bree felt butterflies, tons of them. She wasn't sure if he'd put her under a spell because she was suddenly reluctant about letting him sleep.

"Uh huhn." She hummed and unconsciously leaned in. Frances did not hesitate in cupping her face. He gently kissed her again and again.

Bree felt like a fudge sundae - cold on the outside yet warm in the inside. She wanted to hold her breath so the moment wouldn't pass but as soon as she thought of it, he pulled away slowly. He looked genuinely tired this time and Bree wanted to kick herself for not letting him rest sooner.

"You should really take that nap." She said when she finally found her voice.

"Of course." He said, stroking her chin gently. Bree gave his hand a little squeeze and left the room.

As soon as she shut the door, she shrieked at the sight of her mother standing with her arms folded. Oh no, power move! Her wool sweater blended in with her skin so perfectly that at first Bree thought she was topless.

"Mom, you scared me." Bree said placing a hand on her chest.

Melinda calmly nodded toward the living room and Bree followed her. Bree couldn't help but notice how Frances new human smell hung around the room - vanilla candles and wildflowers. She stared at the spot he'd leaned on by the door, where he sat on the couch, the mug he'd drunk coffee out of, the kitchen stool he'd. . . . .

"What is happening? I don't. . . . I can't. . . Brianna Gemma Deckard, can you please explain who that - that incredibly good looking young man is, why he's here and why you two are a thing and i don't know about it, what happened at the mountain, where's Galloway and what in the world was that back there? He fixed up my broken mug. Where is he from? Who are his parents? Why does he talk like he's from the 90s France?"

Melinda was holding her breath and was turning blue fast, Bree had to grip her shoulders to keep her from imploding.

"Mom, calm down!" Bree soothed. Melinda looked like she was going to combust into wool ash.

"I won't, not until you explain what the hell is happening." She objected. Her puffed out cheeks almost made her look younger than Bree and was evidence that she was back to full health. There was a glossy shine underneath her eyes and on her nose that made her face look like it was sculptured from glitter. Bree tried not to, but she admired how great how mother looked.

"Fine. I'll explain everything but you have to promise to take pauses in between your sentences, okay? Now come sit." Bree chided in a worried tone.

Despite Melinda being fully rejuvenated, and that was the correct word to use, Bree couldn't help but be on alert whenever her chest heaved in between sentences like that poor bird Princess Fiona sang to in Shrek. She was worried her mother might get a surprise heart attack again.

When they'd both settled on the couch, Bree took her mother's hand.

"Mom." She began and Melinda dipped her head rhythmically.

"This is going to sound unreal but you have to believe me." Bree said. Melinda dipped her head again even though she was panicking on the inside. A part of her wanted to accept whatever Bree was going to tell her but another part wanted to get a psychiatrist on the phone. Instead, she remained as calm as possible and let Bree explain.

Melinda wasn't quite pleased with the number of times Bree had almost gotten smashed to bits but she did not interrupt until Bree was done.

"So you mean to tell me that you got framed for stealing pigs, met a fairytale monster, became friends with it and now he's your boyfriend?"

Bree nodded. "you know what, that pretty much sums it up."

Melinda sighed deeply. The worry on her face cleared off but then it deepened again and she looked like she was about to cry. "Are you sure he's not gonna hurt you?"

"Mom!" Bree stressed. "Don't worry, he's not like that. He was just under a spell and he's fine now. I'm fine, no one's getting hurt ever again, i promise."

Melinda sighed again. "Alright. I trust you. I just hope you're happy and i can see that he makes you happy." She hummed from the base of her throat. "He is one sweet piece of candy."

"Mother!" Bree's eyes widened but she laughed.

"What? I know good stuff when i see one." Melinda shrugged, a smile tugging at her lips. She scooped Bree into a tight hung.

"I'm so happy for you, butterscotch."

"Thanks mom." Bree muttered.

The eve of that day, the pair had a good chat and Frances took time to explain where he was from, his royal lineage and how he was cursed and sent to their realm.

"So wait, you're royalty as well?" Melinda asked with her mouth agape. She blatantly stared at Bree.

"Yes, i am but i can't seem to find my way home. It's . . . depressing." He said. Bree took his hand and gave it a little squeeze. He looked at her and smiled but his eyes carried so much distress. She was sure he missed his family dearly.

Melinda looked to be thinking very hard. Her eyes lit up with a distant idea like she had found a lost pin but inside a dark room.

"You said you'd come here through a uh, some sort of portal, right?"

Frances turned to look at her. "I believe so, yes."

"So what if only a portal can take you back home?" Melinda asked.

Bree and Frances shared a look.

"That could work but where do we find portals here? There are no portals anywhere, well except Google but that's a whole different subject." Bree said waving her hand.

Melinda leaned back in her chair, rolling a Rubik's cube in her hand. Frances was so fascinated with the object that he'd gotten all the colors in on his first try. He wouldn't let go of it like a cat with yarn but Melinda had managed to pry it off him.

"Portals back home were subjects no one talked about but Anita, that's the girl who um. . . " Frances made funny gestures with his hands trying to describe magic.

"The girl that bibbidi bobiddi booped you." Bree completed.

"Yes. She explained that both realms are connected and um, a portal is like a doorway. If a portal back home is opened, then somewhere in your realm another should be opened too."

"But we have no idea where and when that portal will be located." Bree added.

"If there's anything i've learned from all of these magical stuff is that things tend to happen at important times."

"Mom, what do you mean?"

Melinda leaned forward. "I mean, that whenever a spell is cast, it's very probable that it was cast at a special time of year or a day or even a holiday."

"So you mean, we could somehow access a portal on a special day? What special day? There's like tons of special days in a year, which one is it?" Bree asked.

Frances'grip on her hand tightened and she guessed it was because her mother was igniting flickers of hope in him. She suddenly wanted Melinda to stop talking as all of her suggestions could be theories and nothing more. She would not be able bear it if Frances got crushed after getting his hopes up.

"Could be any day? Do you remember, Frances, the day you were cursed? Was there anything special about that day?"

Frances' eyes lit up so bright Bree could've used them as flashlights. "It was my birthday."

"When is your birthday?" Bree asked.

"August 12." He replied.

"That's two days from today." Bree said standing up hastily although she didn't know why. Frances stood up too, a lot gentler. "We have to look for a portal to get you back home."

Bree almost bolted for her room but Frances held her in a firm grip without much of a stagger. He pulled her to face him.

"It's almost midnight, we can't go anywhere." He said calmly.

Bree arched her eyebrows. "Since when did you start following the rules?"

"Bree, you have to listen to him. It's too late. You can't go and by the way, remember you're still considered a criminal in town. If anyone spots you outside. . ." Melinda said.

"So we go in the morning!" Bree stated.

"No!" Melinda said and stood up. "We can't risk you going out during the day as much as at night. You have to stay here. No one should see you, not even the neighbors. Everyone thinks you're harmful."

Bree looked up at Frances. Guilt plagued his face but he gently nodded in agreement with what Melinda had said. Bree didn't understand why they were being stubborn but she wasn't going to agree. They had to work fast before everything seemed hopeless.

"So i'm just going to hide in here forever, roll over and show my belly just because people are scared of me? Well, guess what mom, people never liked me in the first place so why should i bother about it now?"

"Because now they have a more solid reason to not like you and you could be detained. There's pretty much nothing you can do from prison, Bree." Melinda said.

"I want to help mom, i've always been helping. This is the climax of it all, i have to help him get back home. It's my duty at this point." Bree argued then felt a pair of hands turn her away from her mother.

"Bree. . ." He started. It suddenly felt like he had spoken in the midst of a storm. His calm tone washed over Bree and she found herself relax even though she was still upset.

"You have to understand that it's for the best. You've been there for me ever since we met, when no one else would and you've done. . . you've done more than enough. You've risked your life and freedom countless times and i won't be able to forgive myself if they took you away from me."

Bree wanted to speak but she seemed to have forgotten how to form words. She knew Frances meant what he said and the thought of devastating him any further than he was roundhouse kicked her in the gut.

She heaved a small sigh and her shoulders slumped. She couldn't win this argument, not with her mother and her supposed boyfriend being on the same side.

"So what would you do?" She asked.

Melinda answered. "I'll go with him. We'll try to search for portals anywhere we can."

"Great, i get to be a couch potato while you do all the fun stuff." Bree muttered.

"I really hope this search proves to be effectual." Frances said almost absentmindedly but Bree couldn't blame him. If she were in his shoes, she wouldn't be able to handle the excitement, anticipation and fear all together.

"It will be. We'll get you home." Bree assured and stood on his tippy toes to kiss him on the cheek.

He nodded and drew her close to himself in a tight hug.

"Oh and uh, i just remembered." Melinda said skittering towards her room. "I have something i think belongs to you."

Bree and Frances waited as Melinda lumbered into her room and appeared again a few minutes later holding a stick.

"Mom, what's. . . ?" Bree didn't get to finish her sentence. As Melinda came closer, the stick flashed a bright silver and Bree realized it was a sword. She couldn't remember where she'd dropped it but somehow Melinda had found it.

"That's mine. I thought i lost it." Frances said but did not make any attempts to collect the blade.

"Well dear, have it then." Melinda offered, offering the hilt to him but he hesitated.

"That sword was given to me a long time ago and it was meant for battle. I don't think i'll be fighting any wars. So keep it, please. It would be safer in your hands." He said.

Melinda looked a bit flabbergasted. "Me? What would i do with a sword?"

Bree held back a snicker. "Remember that fish we had trouble cutting once because the knife just wasn't big enough?"

Melinda suddenly seemed to get the idea and wiggled the blade. "Ahn! Of course."

"Mom! Mom, you can put it down now. It's really really sharp." Bree cautioned guiding her mother's hand in the other direction.

"I could also use it to push my stuff from the top shelf. My jewelry box has been up there for eons." Melinda said wanderingly.

Frances looked confused and looked to Bree for any explanation.

"Don't look at me, you gave her the bloody knife and now she has ideas." Bree said.

"We should retreat for the night. I'm oddly exhausted." Frances said.

"Mom, we should go to bed." Bree suggested and Melinda put down the sword at last.

"Yes, bed, come here butterscotch." She said extending her arms then looked up at Bree who had turned a bright red.

"What is it?" Melinda asked looking quite terrified.

"Mom, don't call me that." Bree said in between her teeth and gestured towards Frances.

"I heard it anyway, it's cute." He said with a shrug and a chuckle.

Bree pouted and looked at her mother accusingly. "This is your fault."

"Oh, it's not butterscotch." Frances said, and something like a manly giggle escaped from him.

"I'm going to bed." Bree slumped and headed for her mother's room. Since Frances stayed in hers, she shared her mother's.

"Goodnight dear." Melinda said patting Frances and followed Bree.

Frances glared at the sword on the table for a while, a familiar sick feeling gnawing at his insides. He said a silent prayer and headed for Bree's room.