'Anything?'

Rogers shook his head. 'Not yet.'

Weaver sighed. 'Then we keep looking.'

'What do you think Belfrey's gonna do to Lucy?' Rogers asked.

'Something bad,' his partner replied curtly, looking worried.

'And you thought she could help you?' Rogers accused.

Weaver sighed again. 'Yes, because I'm a fool and I'm desperate, and desperation is never helpful when one needs to see clearly. Belle was always good at helping me see the right path, but she isn't here, so I'm feeling my way in the dark. Look, I've made mistakes, but I'm not trying to hurt anyone. I thought I could stop Belfrey from making the mistakes I've made, but she's not at the point yet where she can see that she's wrong, and you can't force anyone to see the truth.'

'And now she's going to hurt Lucy?'

'Yes.'

'Why?'

'Because she's trying to save her daughter, and I should have thought about the price: there's always a price. I was too blinded by her promise of help to think through to what it would be, and now it seems obvious. We have to find Lucy before it's too late.' And Weaver strode off.

Rogers hurried after him. 'You make it sound like she's trying to exchange one life for another or something.'

'I told you there were things you wouldn't believe if I told you,' Weaver said grimly.

'I feel like I've fallen down a rabbit hole with you sometimes,' Rogers remarked.

'Trust me, you've no idea how true that is,' Weaver returned. They'd reached his car. 'Get in: we're gonna comb the streets again.'

Rogers did as he was told and they drove in silence for a bit. Finally, he broke it. He wanted to know more about his elusive partner, and he thought he had an in to that.

'So, your wife: Belle, is it?'

'Yes.'

'You said you were separated. Where is she?'

'Somewhere else,' Weaver said unhelpfully: 'somewhere she's waiting for me.'

'How do you know that?'

'I just do.'

'So she's not missing, not like Eloise was?'

'No, she's not missing. She's just…lost to me, for the moment.'

'And you feel like everything will…make sense if you can just get back to her?'

Weaver looked at him out of the corner of his eye.

'It's, uh, how I felt when I was searching for Eloise,' Rogers explained, 'like it would all make sense if I could find her.'

'And did it?' Weaver asked.

'No. I thought I'd feel fulfilled, but something still feels missing.'

'That's because Eloise Gardener isn't who you're looking for.'

'And who am I looking for?' Rogers wondered, 'since you seem to be some kind of oracle.'

Weaver laughed bitterly. 'Hardly. If I were an oracle, I could find the answers to my own questions easily enough. One thing I do know, though: you'll find your answer soon enough.'

'And how do you know that?'

'I just do. One of these days, the fog will lift, and everyone will…wake up.'

'I can't figure you out, Weaver,' Rogers said, irritated.

Weaver chuckled darkly. 'No more can I, dearie: no more can I.'

'What about Belle? Could she figure you out?'

'Oh, Belle knew me better than anyone, better than I knew myself, as it turns out.'

'You're talking about her in the past tense, you know,' Rogers said quietly.

Weaver didn't answer.

'So she's…dead?' Rogers pressed carefully.

Weaver shook his head. 'Just not here.'

'Right. There you go being cryptic again. You're not telling me everything.'

'Can't tell you until you're ready to believe. That's how this whole thing works. You're not asking the right questions, Detective.'

'And what are the right questions?'

Weaver laughed. 'Doesn't work like that, I'm afraid.'

Rogers rolled his eyes. 'Then tell me about Belle.'

'What do you want to know?' Weaver asked quietly.

Ah, now I'm getting somewhere, Rogers thought: Weaver wanted to talk about her.

'What does she look like?'

Rumplestiltskin thought about the last time he saw his wife, as she was watching over him in that hospital bed. He smiled.

'Brown hair, beautiful blue eyes, and an accent you wouldn't soon forget,' he said.

Rogers looked at him. 'You love her very much,' he said, hearing the yearning in Weaver's voice.

'More than life itself,' Weaver replied slowly, emphasising the words.

'How did you meet?'

Weaver huffed in amusement. 'You wouldn't believe me if I told you.'

'Try me.'

Weaver shot him a look. 'Alright. You know that story of Beauty and the Beast?'

'Uh, I think so? Girl gets taken prisoner by a monster, they fall in love and he turns back into a man in the end?'

'More or less.'

'Then I know it. What about it?'

'Our story was a lot like that.'

Rogers stared at him. 'What, she's Beauty to your Beast?'

Weaver looked at him. 'Don't know why you're surprised. I'm well aware you think I'm a shady, manipulative bastard. I don't deny I can be difficult to get along with, a bit of a beast. I used to be a lot worse, believe it or not.'

Rogers snorted. 'Hard to imagine how. You're secretive, and yes, shady, and you made Tilly lie to me and I still don't understand why.' He was still annoyed about that.

'I know you don't understand, and I know you don't trust me, but I was trying to protect you both.'

'From Eloise?' Rogers could hardly believe that he'd need protecting from her.

'Eloise Gardener is not who you think she is, Rogers,' Weaver said, losing his patience: 'she's not some innocent victim in all of this. There's a reason that woman was locked up, so, yes, I was trying to protect you and Tilly from her.'

'But Belfrey had her locked up. She's the bad guy here. You said she wants to hurt Lucy.'

Weaver sighed. 'It's not as simple as that. For the most part, evil isn't born, it's made. Belle would tell you that that means that it can be unmade. Yes, Victoria wants to hurt Lucy, but I'm hoping we can find her before she can, and then help her find a better way of dealing with her pain.'

'You want to redeem her?' Rogers asked incredulously.

'Don't knock it, Detective,' Weaver warned. 'We're all striving for redemption. Sometimes it takes a second or third chance at it, even a fourth, fifth, or sixth chance, but, in the end, most of us are looking for the light. I know that better than most.'

'You're making less and less sense,' Rogers said, exasperated.

'Let's just look for Lucy, then.'

They were quiet for another few minutes. Again, it was Rogers who broke the silence. Now that he'd learned of the mysterious Belle, he was beginning to see his partner in a new light, and he wanted to know more about the woman Weaver would do anything to get back to.

'How long have you been married?' he asked.

'That's a complicated answer,' Weaver replied.

'How's that a complicated answer?' Rogers demanded.

'It just is.'

Rogers sighed. 'Alright. Do you have children?'

Weaver nodded. 'Belle and I have a son, Gideon.'

'Belle and you? You have other children?'

'I had another son: I lost him.'

'I'm sorry.' For some reason, the idea of losing a child hit home for Rogers in that moment: it felt personal.

'Thank you.' Weaver sighed. 'I hope to see him again too, one day.'

'What does Belle like to do? Uh, what hobbies does she have?' This was the oddest conversation ever, but it was also, strangely, the most genuine, at least the most genuine he'd had with Weaver.

Weaver was smiling. 'Belle likes to read.'

'Yeah? What else?'

'Travel, dance.'

Rogers found himself smiling. That love in Weaver's voice when he spoke about her: it meant he couldn't be all bad, or even mostly bad, as Rogers had supposed. He seemed to have what he believed were good reasons for everything he did, and maybe they were. Maybe Weaver was just like anyone else, trying to find his way in this messy world, looking for redemption, as he'd said.

'What else can you tell me about her?' he asked.

'Belle is the smartest, kindest, most heroic person I know,' Weaver said, his voice quiet and awe-filled.

'Now I'm starting to wonder if she's real,' Rogers teased.

'Oh, she's real,' Weaver said with a nod.

'How'd she fall for you?'

Weaver laughed rather than taking offence, as he might have. 'I've often wondered that myself.' He shook his head. 'She saw good in me, a good man behind the beast.' He sighed. 'I've been trying to prove her right. Don't know how well I'm succeeding.'

'Well, you're out here looking for Lucy,' Rogers pointed out, 'and I suppose I believe you when you say you were trying to protect me with the Eloise situation, though I still don't understand how. You're something of an enigma, though, Weaver. Ever think it would just be easier to be straight with people?'

'Yes, it would, but without Belle, like I said, I'm feeling in the dark, stumbling to find my way.'

'She helps you take the right path,' Rogers said, remembering what Weaver had said earlier.

'Yes, she does. Belle's my…my guiding light. Without her, I feel…lost. I told someone once that she was a brief flicker of light in an ocean of darkness, but she became the light that consumed me, that blotted out the darkness, and I don't do well without her.' He shook his head abruptly. 'Keep your eyes on the street, Rogers: we're supposed to be looking for my - for Lucy.'

Rogers nodded, but he looked at Weaver out of the corner of his eye and saw the man blinking rapidly. He turned away out of respect, pondering on the woman who could make his hard boiled partner show such emotion. She must be one hell of a woman to capture a man like Weaver's heart. No, Rogers would actually go even further, and say that she'd captured Weaver's soul, and he'd quite willingly surrendered it. He suddenly seemed a completely different man than the one Rogers thought he knew.

There you go. Just a short little thing. Hope you liked it :)