A/N: I know that I have some folks following me on here, and I've not posted anything since my first fanfiction, and its followup, months ago. As such, here, have this. It's the first in a series called "Holidays with Grandpapa!Gold", inspired/thought up by a friend and I, during an OUaT Seasion 1 re-watch livestream I hosted, the week before S2's premiere. Even if we find out Bae isn't Henry's father, I do plan on finishing all of these that are planned out.
Just like last time, I have no beta, and have personally gone through and edited until my eyes felt like death warmed over. Enjoy it, mates!

Emma Swan and her mother were exasperated. No matter how they tried, Mr. Gold, or Rumplestiltskin, as he'd begun to be called once again, refused to move on the matter, no matter how much they insisted. It was their turn to take Henry out trick-or-treating, after all, but he would hear nothing of it.

"But what about your knee? You really shouldn't go out into the cold with it-," Mary Margaret, once Princess known as Snow White, had begun, but Rumplestiltskin's hand, held upright and firm, effectively put her at pause. Even as a man, and, more-so, as Henry's grandfather, he held the power of being an imposing figure.

"My knee will be fine, dearie. I've survived with it, in this world, well enough. Tonight is no different. Cold, or no."

Emma huffed, annoyed, "We agreed on taking turns, Gold. You took him last year, and now you want to make it two in a row."

Rumplestiltskin was amused, with how Emma still refused to use his name. Whether through a desire to still cling to what she thought was her world's belief of him, or habit, he couldn't say, but it appeared it woud never change. "Aye, that we did, Miss Swan. However, had you pleaded more, before our dear boy started pushing plans about it on me, you would have had a better chance. As is, you did not, and he's made it clear that I am to accompany him, this evening."

From another room, Prince James could be heard laughing. Shooting a look of irritation, through the walls that separated them, Rumplestiltskin shifted his weight just so. James was one of few who knew what Henry had asked his grandfather to wear. As such, Rumplestiltskin and Henry were the only others, and he hoped to keep it that way, until the evening.

It wasn't that he was embarrassed by the costume, perse, but, rather, he was a touch worried about pulling it off. The whole thing had been Henry's idea, and the lad had even supplied him with bin fulls of costume and theatre makeup, for the part. He wasn't keen on it, but, seeing Henry's pleading eyes had fully melted him, and caused him to give in. It was the same look Bae had given him, when he was a child, and, even to this day, he still found himself unable to say no to it. More than that, it certainly didn't help that, as Henry grew older, he began to look more and more like his father, with every passing day. With Henry now only a year from being the same age Bae was, when he lost him, Rumplestiltskin was trying to spend as much time with him as he could, frightful that, even though happy endings had started to return, this one would be taken from him, as penance for all the sins of the past.

Having turned towards the direction of the laughter, both Emma and Snow returned their gazes to Rumplestiltskin, clearly puzzled. Snow, once again, began to speak, but another raised hand quieted her before she could begin.

Rumplestiltskin's face showed that he would broker no refusal, and that the conversation was over, "I'm taking him, and that's the end of it. Now, if you will all be so kind as to excuse me, I have an evening to dress for."

Some hours later, the infamous coral house played guest to one small knight in shining armor, and one grown man, in a dress that, if anyone had the courage, would have been called "drab." Henry's helmet, although set upon the top of his head, and out of his face, continued to slide down, blocking his view of the world. It mattered not that it had been magicked to fit him, the lad still had some growing to do, before his royal grandfather's headgear would stay in place. Each time it fell, Gold had to chuckle.

"I thought you said it would fit!" Understandably, Henry was frustrated. Lifting the helmet again, he glowered at Rumplestiltskin, resulting in just more laughter from the man.

Rumplestiltskin took the helmet from Henry's head and placed it on a nearby table, to retrieve later, "You'll grow into it, lad. Give it about two more years, and I'm certain we'll need to make it a touch larger."

Bucket in hand (a cauldron, that had been spelled to never fill, and never gain weight), Henry grabbed hold of Rumplestiltskin's free hand, trying to pull him out the door. Forever in a rush, for he was at the age where everything had to be done right then and there, he barely gave his grandfather enough time to grab the witch's broom that would be serving in place of his cane, and the pointed hat to complete the look. It wasn't quite the full cartoon Evil Queen look, but it was enough, Henry was sure, to irritate Regina.

Each house along the street was decorated with care - each as spooky and haunted looking as the next. But, as always, the coral home was the one with the most done. Yet another thing Henry had insisted upon, as he had done the year before. If Rumplestiltskin were to be honest, which he was, he would admit to dreading the winter holidays. The level of decoration it would take to please Henry would no doubt require buying out an entire department store's Christmas decoration section. Just as he had tonight, though, Rumplestiltskin would give in. Anything to see the boy genuinely happy.

Their first destination was a mere five minute walk away; a large, grim looking home that belonged to a man named Mr. Jackson. He'd been a troll, in the old world, and his demeanor had flourished, in this new land. The next several were owned by witches, two werewolves, and a pair of gnomes, each giving Henry the best they had to offer, in an attempt to not upset the guardian carefully keeping watch over him, just a few feet away.

It was at the eleventh house they'd come across, that they first met trouble. The home was owned by a Mr. Black, an ancient kelpie that damn nearly put Rumplestiltskin's age to shame. Henry, like all the children and teenagers that were out and about, wanted treats that came in the form of candies and generally sweet delights. When Mr. Black offered, instead, a toothbrush and small packet of mixed hazelnuts, Henry stood in shock. It wasn't unheard of, of course, for some to hand out healthier alternatives, and Henry knew that, he just wasn't expecting it. Even with pleading eyes, Mr. Black refused to move on his stance. It was that, or nothing at all.

The once-kelpie had made the mistake of overlooking who it was that had accompanied the boy, and found himself sputtering, when he finally took notice of the man that was glaring daggers at him. It only took a single threat, of doubled rent, to change Mr. Black's mind. To the delight of the others that had taken place, for their turn, behind the pair, he promised he would no longer try to hand out his original offer, and instead hand out what was preferred.

Pleased, Henry and his grandfather continued on their way.

By the twentieth home, Rumplestiltskin realized his mistake in replacing his cane. His knee was in agony, and demanded rest. Blessedly, Henry had found some schoolmates, and had agreed to let the older man sit and rest, for a bit, while he accompanied them.

"Be back in no more than fifteen minutes, Henry, and, by Gods boy, don't go far. Magic or no, I'd rather not find myself on the wrong end of your mother's temper. Or her sword, for that matter."

Agreeing, Henry ran along, leaving Rumplestiltskin to sit, alone, with his thoughts. His gaze followed the boy for some time, until nearby rustling bushes caught his attention. Rising, much to his knee's protest, he approached them, as quietly as he could, and uncovered Archie Hopper, digging about, in search of something. The two simply stared at each other, for some time, before Archie rose, giving a polite nod to Rumplestiltskin.

Returning the nod, Rumplestiltskin offered a hand, and Archie took it firmly, a friendly shake given between them, "Do I dare ask what a cricket would need search for in shrubbery?" A peace had settled, between the men, as well as an understanding, after Rumplestiltskin had taken time to visit with him, more often. It would be a stretch, to call them friends, but they were close enough for there to be no harbored ill feelings, regardless of the past.

"Ah... well, I had a token that I had planned to give to Ruby, later this evening, but I'm afraid I noticed, earlier, that it had slipped from my pocket." Looking towards the bush he'd been digging about in, Archie gave a resigned sigh, "I'm afraid it's gone, now, though."

Nodding, in understanding, Rumplestiltskin waved a hand, producing the small "token" that Archie had lost. Small magic had little price, beyond that of using energy, and it seemed worth it, to help the man that had helped him make peace with the loss of his son.

Archie took the small thing, a tiny gemstone that appeared to turn from a shade of green to a deep shade of red, depending on the light, and offered a thankful smile. "I.. Thank you. Thank you, Mr. Gold." This time, being more careful in choosing his pocket of choice, to place the small gem, he placed it in the breast pocket, upon his vest. "I'm so sorry, to have to run, after you've done this, but, you see, Ruby.."

"Please do stop rambling and go on. Leaving a lover waiting is one of the worst things you could do. Considering yours, I'd daresay Hell unleashed would be an understatement."

Quickly, nodding one last time, Archie hurried off, shouting his thanks, again, before disappearing 'round the nearest block corner, headed towards the diner. As he watched the last of Archie's back, Rumplestlitskin heard the clock tower chime, alerting him to it being half-past nine. Panicking, he turned back to where he'd been sitting, eyes alight with worry. Henry was nowhere to be seen, even though his fifteen minutes had passed. It had, in fact, doubled.

He'd been gone for half an hour, and had yet to come back.

Picking the broom, back up, Rumplestiltskin quickly limped into the direction he'd left, calling Henry's name as loudly as he dared, over and over.

Nothing.

Even with ears strained as far as they could go, Rumplestiltskin could hear no reply, mention of the boy, or his voice.

I'm going to kill that cricket.

But, as soon as the thought had come, it was gone, and replaced with relief as he saw Henry coming down the steps of a house, further down the road, light glinting off his armor. Rumplestiltskin suddenly felt like a fool, for having not seen him sooner. Regardless, the boy was found, and his anxiety of losing him had been put to rest. When Henry saw him, the light caught the armor, again, when he waved a sign of notice, just before rushing back over.

"I know, I'm late, I'm sorry. Grace, the Mad Hatter's daughter, she had this little chameleon with her, and I couldn't stop watching it change. I'm sorry."

And there it was, again. That look. That pleading, big, doe eyed look. Had he been angry, Rumplestiltskin knew it would have dissipated in an instant, from one glance at the boy's eyes. It was with a passing thought that he wondered if he'd ever become immune to it. As his grandfather, he sincerely doubted it.

Resigned, he mussed Henry's hair a bit, in a rare sign of physical affection, and jerked his head towards his home, "Come on, let's head back in. It's gotten quite late, and I did promise your mother that I'd at least have you back inside, at a decent hour."

Happy with having been to so many homes, Henry simply nodded and took up his grandfather's side, as they walked back. Noting how Henry looked like he wanted to ask a question, Rumplestiltskin nudged him with his elbow, "Go on and ask what you want to ask, lad."

"Could we watch a movie, while I go through everything? Like Hocus Pocus, or something along those lines? With that hot cider you made last year?"

"We'll see, Henry. We'll see."

With steaming mugs in hand, and two pills for his knee, in his pocket, Rumplestiltskin walked into the living room to find Henry on the floor with the entirety of his night's pillaging set out in four large crystal bowls. Judging on the fifth, empty one, and the wrappers, Henry was due for a stomach ache, later, but it was Hallowe'en, and there was no point in chastising him. It had been the same, the year before and, according to Emma, the same the year before that. If he chose to continue to follow such habits, even knowing the consequences, Rumplestiltskin knew better than to try to convince him otherwise.

Handing Henry his mug, Rumplestiltskin settled back, and took his own sip of the cider, disregarding the burn of the liquid, in favor of downing the pain medication. Doubled dose, for the sake of the throbbing that he knew was only going to get worse, come the morning. The joy on Henry's face, as he looked up to his grandfather, grinning, made it worth it. It always made it worth it.

He jerked, when he felt Jemima rub up against his sore knee, nearly spilling some of his cider, as he bit back a curse, "Bloody cat."

Henry turned to face the wee, black tortie Scottish Fold, holding out a friendly hand, "She missed you. No need to curse at her for it."

"That I doubt. Ever since you and your mother brought her by, insisting I was too lonely a man, I swear she's been determined to run into my leg at the worst of times. She certainly doesn't live up to her name."

Jemima, acting as if she understood, turned her nose up at Rumplestiltskin, and proceded to make herself at home in Henry's lap, purring all the while.

Snorting, Rumplestiltskin rolled his eyes, "Damned spoiled thing that she is. Thinks she's princess of the castle."

His grandfather's grumpy muttering only made Henry giggle. "Princess of the Dark One's castle, too. We know you like having her around, so there's no need to be hostile. At least she hasn't clawed your face, like she did my mom's."

Rumplestiltskin smiled mischievously, and made a motion to agree, while simultaneously dismissing the whole ordeal, "What'd you get, lad? Anything your mother would string me up by my toes for allowing you to have?"

Henry shook his head, "No, but she would probably do that, if I told her that you confessed that the Sanderson sisters were real, before one of Grandpa's men ran them through with a jousting stick."

"What was that about running someone through with a stick?" Emma called out, from the foyer. The sound of the front door shutting could be heard, directly after, followed by the typical sound of her boots meeting the rug.

Turning to look at her, Rumplestiltskin gave a small smile, in greeting, "Simply educating him on the past of the old world, Miss Swan. Nothing you need worry about. Yet, at least. I do advise not giving him jousting gear, for a few more years, should he ask for it."

Henry huffed in faux-agitation, muttering under his breath about how it couldn't hurt to have it a few years earlier, and how he'd be good at it.

Emma only laughed, and leaned her hip against the arm of the sofa, taking in Henry's stash, "Damn, kid. That's better than last year. You sure raked it in, huh?"

"Yeah! And, when Mr. Black tried to give me a toothbrush, and a packet of nuts, Grandpapa threatened to double his rent, and it was awesome!"

Gaze turned to Rumplestiltskin, Emma raised a brow, "I'm not sure I'm liking the lessons you're teaching my kid."

Rumplestiltskin had the grace to look sheepish, "Well, the kelpie shouldn't have been trying to give out such a poor selection. I'm sure he knew very well that it was only a quip and not a true threat." Emma needn't know that it was an honest threat, and one he would have gladly followed through with, had the offering not been improved.

Rolling her eyes, Emma sighed and waved a hand to Henry's bowls of candy and his nearly finished mug of cider, "C'mon, kid. Bag up so we can head home."

Rumplestiltskin stood, glad to have his cane back, and helped, taking the mugs to the kitchen sink. Returning, he found Henry stripped of his armor, and bound in warmer clothing for the trek home, his regular red and grey scarf and peacoat acting as his new armor.

Emma held out her hand, and he took it, giving her a genuine smile as she spoke, "Thanks for taking him out. Again. Next year, though, he's mine, and I'll not take no for an answer." Her eyes moved between both of them, "From either of you."

Nodding, Rumplestiltskin mussed Henry's hair one last time, before the boy suddenly grabbed him about the waist, in an embrace. The boy's voice was muffled, by where he had his face tucked too far into his chest, but it was only loud enough for him to hear, "I want you to come next year, too. Every year, no matter what she says. She's boring to go trick-or-treating with."

With his free arm wrapped around Henry's shoulders, Rumplestiltksin chuckled, "We'll talk about that later." Releasing him, he opened the door for the pair and nodded goodbye, when they looked back, and Henry waved.

Watching them leave, Rumplestiltskin leaned against the door frame, a small smile lighting his face. All because of that boy, he'd been reduced from general town terrorizing imp to a grandfather, something he never thought he'd get the chance to become. And yet, now that he was, and had been acting as one for nearly three years, it still felt like he was walking in a dream. True, he was, for the most part, still quite alone, but he now had a family. He had love, and that was what mattered most of all.

EDIT: I've received multiple reviews, everywhere I've posted this, asking "Where's Belle?!" Simply, Belle does not exist in this universe, as a way of showing respect to the friend that helped inspire this entire Grandpapa!Gold hosts the holidays series idea. Please note that I am, without a doubt, definitely a Rumbeller, and I have never a once apologized for it, and I have no plans on ever doing so. That being said, don't look for her in any of these installments. Other works, most probably/definitely, but not the Grandpapa!Gold series.

My apologies to anyone that this disappoints.