Since I don't own ABC, I'm sure the story will unfold quite differently than I've imagined. This is just a humble attempt to stop obsessing about "Skin Deep" by getting it out of my system and into the world. If you choose to review—which would be delightful—please be honest but kind. I haven't written for years, and as much as I might wish otherwise, this is nowhere near as extraordinary as some of the fan fiction that I have read.
Mr. Gold sat alone in The Rabbit Hole, turning his cup of tea. Around him, couples were joining and separating, and friends greeted each other jovially. He spoke to no one and no one spoke to him; that was the way he liked it. Sometimes, he just needed to leave that quiet, empty house, with the voices and whispers from so long ago. Besides, after a few drinks, people became careless with secrets, and he could usually learn a thing or two about the folks in Storybrooke. Power was all about secrets, and he stored them up to use when it came time to make a deal.
He tuned in to the worn-looking man sitting at the bar nearby. The man's hair was long and dirty, and he leaned toward the bartender with the air of someone who had had one drink too many. He spoke intently and a little too loudly, so it wasn't too hard to hear him. He had just begun talking about some girl.
"I'm telling you, they're keeping her in the basement," he said. The bartender, who was wiping down the counter, appeared unmoved.
"Man, she haunts me," the man continued with an exaggerated sigh. "Spooky blue eyes—when she looks at you, it's like she can see right inside you."
He remembered other searching blue eyes, and for a moment he was lost in a reverie. He remembered her surprising softness when she fell, literally, into his arms. That had been the first time since his transformation that someone did not look away from him in distaste or shrink from his touch, and the sweetness of the moment still caused his heart, or what was left of it, to turn over. But hers was one of the voices he heard when he was alone, and he had not come here to think of her. He returned to his eavesdropping.
The gaunt man continued. "See, she was there when I started at the hospital, and no one ever comes to see her except the Mayor. She checks in every once in awhile; sometimes she goes inside, but other times she just looks through the window, like she's checking on a captive."
Finally, the bartender responded, annoyed. "So there's this crazy chick locked in the hospital basement, and the Mayor is keeping her prisoner? Sounds like one heck of a story."
"Shhh!" his customer whispered unsteadily. "It's supposed to be some big secret. Mayor Mills said that no one can know about her, especially…"
Before continuing, the long-haired man looked around conspiratorially. When he saw Mr. Gold, his face turned as white as a sheet. He gulped down his beer and left, moving swiftly for someone so inebriated.
So Regina was keeping a secret from him, eh? Mr. Gold couldn't think of a better reason to find it out. He was a man of secrets, after all. And if Madame Mayor didn't want him to know something, it was surely worth knowing. As the evening drunks wandered in and out, he leaned back in his chair, lost in thought.
I have dribs and drabs of other chapters, but heaven knows when they'll be readable by the public. Any thoughts?