Notes: This takes place in between my stories Home and The Greater Darkness. It's an idea that's been bouncing around my head pretty much since I started working on Home, but I just never found a place that it fit, so it gets its own little one-shot. In other thoughts: I can't wait until the show comes back on this evening! Wohoo!

No Small Amount of Courage

At his core Rumplestiltskin had always enjoyed a quiet, peaceful sort of life. As he grew older and life handed him so much more, he had toyed with the idea that it was simply the fact that he hadn't known any better. He hadn't realized that there were great, fantastical worlds outside of his little hovel with his spinning wheel and his memories of a wife that had once loved him. At least, he hadn't realized what it could be.

He'd traveled those worlds now and he wasn't afraid of them. He'd manipulated an entire realm of people through a curse just to travel over to one. He knew what the realms held now, and while he would never have been satisfied to simply go back to his little hovel and spin, there was something utterly relaxing about the quiet solitude of it. In his castle, he'd reached that feeling by secluding himself with his wheel and his straw late into the night, his hands busy and his mind able to work through whatever tangled problem he faced. Now, back in Storybrooke again with the Witch looming in the distance and his dagger in her hands, Rumple found his quiet in his pawn shop.

It was the first time he'd come back to it at any length after being returned. Like the rest of the town, it wasn't much worse for having been wiped out of existence and then put back. They had been back a little over a week and while he'd been content to stay in and recover from his failed attempt to defeat the Wicked Witch, by the end of that first week he'd grown restless. That was how he'd found himself standing in his shop this morning, looking around at the nicknacks and the collections of various assortments. He hadn't bothered to switch the sign over to open. He wasn't there for the occasional customer that might filter in, nor was he in any mood to invite questions of what had really happened when he had split ways with the Charmings to save Belle. No, he simply wanted some quiet peace that he could keep all to himself.

That was obviously not meant to be. Rumple hadn't been in the back of his shop for an hour before the bell sounded and he could have sworn he'd locked the door when he'd entered. He set aside the small music box he'd taken out to begin restoring and sighed, limping his way towards the front of the shop. "We're closed," he was saying as he pushed back the curtain and was met with a steely grey stare that made him frown. "Hello, Milah."

They hadn't spoken directly since the return, but Rumplestiltskin was well aware that his ex-wife and Hook had been pulled along with everyone else. Bae had mentioned that she had tried to approach him several times already, but he seemed to be meeting her with the same coolness that he had in the Enchanted Forest. They hadn't discussed it at any length, but Rumple had gotten the gist of the situation and felt the growing need to stay as far away from it as he could while still being there for his son. It was a delicate balance and one that he hadn't quite caught ahold of yet.

"Rumple," she greeted back. "So this is your little shop I've heard so much about."

"I didn't realize it was so popular." He waited, leaning on his cane and watching her look at the a few things that were placed back on a shelf. Finally he cleared his throat, gaining her attention. "I did mean it when I said that the shop is closed."

She straightened, looking slightly odd in her twenty-first century clothing. Her hair was still as wild as it had ever been, the curls falling in all directions over her shoulders. Her taste seemed simple enough with her dark jeans and boots and tanktop covered only by a light jacket even in the cooling weather. She was used to the ocean air, though. That was where she was most comfortable.

The way that she was studying him made him have to resist the urge to squirm, though he'd never let on. He supposed that she was taking in his appearance as well. For all the years they'd known each other, for everything that had happened, the man that stood before her in his dress shirt and cufflinks looked very little like the spinner she'd married so very long ago. Even without magic, Rumplestiltskin's entire demeanor gave off power. "What do you want, Milah?" he asked at last.

"I need your help," she said slowly, the words sounding as if they tasted bitter leaving her tongue.

A slow smile crept to Rumple's lips and he leaned forward against the glass case in front of him. "Well now," he drawled, "come to make another deal, dearie?"

She frowned at the words, but stepped closer anyway. "This is about Bae."

Rumplestiltskin's expression immediately went blank and he straightened. "I'm not dealing today. Quite busy getting everything in order." He turned, starting for the back of the shop. "I'm sure you can find your way out."

She was around the counter in a flash, blocking his way. "Don't run from me, Rumple."

Dark eyes sparked dangerously at the words. "I'm not running from you, dearie. The fact remains that I have important things to see to and you simply have not made that list. On your way."

Milah didn't budge, even when when he moved forward again. They were nose to nose now, neither willing to back down and he could feel the tension between them. "In the caves," she said, her voice little more than a whisper, but clear, "you tried to offer me advice on Bae."

"I told you to back off," he growled, shifting to move around her. She shifted with him.

"You told me to give him space," she countered lowly and when he moved again she reached a hand out and put it against his chest, stopping him.

There had been a time when he had thought she loved him, a time when the look she was giving him now would have made him go weak at the knees and he'd have done anything within his power for her. She knew it. She'd likely known it then. Her fingers toyed at one of the buttons to his shirt and when he'd about decided he'd had enough she leaned in, testing his resolve when she pressed a kiss against his lips. It didn't last long, but when she pulled back her voice was soft like it had been in the days that they had been happy. "Rumple, please. He's my son too."

Well, in the days he'd thought they were happy.

"Didn't act like it," he snapped as he pulled back, hand going up to knock hers away from where it was still pressed against him. Funny, as the Dark One he'd slapped away countless swords pointed at him in the same manner, and he was sure that she was just as dangerous. Perhaps it was the strange emptiness just behind the cool hatred and fire in her eyes that didn't match her actions or voice.

Her lips pulled downward and her tone grew cold. "Neither did you and he forgave you. That's all I want to know. How did you do it?"

"I died, but you already did that and it didn't do you a bit of good so I suppose you're out of luck, dearie," he popped off, voice taking a dangerous turn upward as he spoke. "Get out of my way and get out of my shop."

"No."

He studied her, weighing his options as his rage built. Few knew her here. He could bury her body in the woods and only a handful would suspect, but they'd never be able to prove anything. Except for Bae. Bae would know. There went that idea. He sighed, feeling suddenly drained. "You're not going to let me be until I tell you, are you?"

"No."

Nor was she going to move, apparently, no matter how much he'd like to retreat to his office and sit. "Time," he said at last.

"What?"

"Time, commitment, and no small amount of courage."

Milah snorted. "Now I know you're lying."

Rumplestiltskin met her gaze and this time she was the one that took a step back. There was no threat there, not really, because if he'd really wanted to do it he wouldn't have bothered with a warning. There was just a solidness, like a man that had fought for what he wanted with everything that he had. "You're not lying," she breathed. "What did you do to earn his trust back so fully?"

Her former husband chuckled, finally able to move past her and doing so. "Oh, it's not so fully. Bae questions me all the time, as he should. He keeps me more honest than most."

"I always hated you for that," she murmured, not seeming to care how badly the words might sting even him. "You were always such a coward, but you were his hero. I was nothing."

Rumple took a seat. "You were never there, Milah. At least for the first nearly fifteen years of his life I was."

She sighed, leaning against the doorframe as he sat at his desk, picking the music box back up to tinker with it. "We really botched it up, didn't we?"

He didn't react at first, tackling the crevices of the piece in his hands with a rag to dig the dirt out. The silence dragged on and when he did speak, he didn't bother looking at her. "He's a good man now, despite everything." Dark eyes flickered up and met hers. "He's always been the better man."

Milah nodded slowly. "Thank you, Rumple."

"You're welcome," he answered tightly, breaking eye-contact. "Now show yourself out. And Milah?"

"Hmm?" she asked from the doorway, finally ready to leave.

"If you ever try to manipulate me in that way again I will end you. You and I are nothing, no matter what Bae decides."

She didn't answer, simply hastened her retreat. He heard the bell announce her exit and he waited a long moment before he let out a shaky breath, the protective facade he'd thrown up crumbling in his solitude. He had just managed to get himself under control when his phone buzzed and he saw the name flash across the screen as he flicked it open. "Hello, sweetheart. Perfect timing," Rumplestiltskin answered, and it was. No matter the terrible darkness Milah left him with - the anger, the betrayal, the hatred - Belle could smooth it all away in just a few words. As he listened to her voice on the other end of the line he felt his lips stretch out into a smile almost of their own will. Milah was in the past, and he found himself utterly content with that. He'd found something so much more than the frightened spinner from the Frontlands could have ever imagined in this woman that he loved and that loved him back.

End.