Title: The integrity of your revolution

Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Denise Levertov

Warnings: violence, death, implied rape, AU during season 1

Pairings: none

Rating: PG

Wordcount: 1760

Point of view: third

Prompt: Any, any, Oh me, oh my, you make me sigh, you're such a good lookin' Joe Dolan, Good Lookin' Woman


Once upon a time, there was a boy who wanted adventure. He was born the bastard son of a prince and his royal grandfather arranged for he and his mother to journey to a distant land. The boy didn't know, of course; he grew up without a father, watching his mother work herself to death, and then he was on his own, an orphaned peasant who'd barely seen ten summers.

But he was a quick, clever boy, and he swiftly learned to pickpocket.

When he was almost a man (though not quite), he learned that a very valuable artifact was being transported to the capitol for some arcane purpose he neither knew nor cared about. Through one of his fences, he also knew there was a noble to the north who would pay a hefty price to call that artifact his own - but the priests were not selling, of course.

It was the successful theft of the Spirit's Vase that led the Dark One to Jefferson's door.

.

Jefferson didn't know who he was, of course, the first time the Dealmaker popped into his kitchen.

"Jefferson," the stranger said, head tilted as he stared at Jefferson, who had been preparing himself a meal. "You have the look of him about you."

There was a knife on the table, another strapped at Jefferson's side. Instead of reaching for either, Jefferson asked, "The look of who?"

"Jeffrey," the stranger said. "Your father, Jeffrey II, king about five realms away, I think? He ascended the throne, oh, three years ago, now?" The stranger cackled, a disturbing sound that sent a shudder down Jefferson's spine. "It was a lovely ceremony. His wife bore a son just last year. Adorable child. Great things in store for that one."

Jefferson watched the stranger wander about the room, at a rare loss for words. Just when he finally went to speak, the stranger turned to face him again. "Greater things in store for you, dearie. I'm in need of a thief. You any good?"

While not a fool, Jefferson was just a touch arrogant. The Spirit's Vase was hidden away, not yet delivered to the nobleman who coveted it and Jefferson knew that no one could possibly be aware he had it – and so he declared, head held high, "The best."

The stranger cackled again. "Wonderful. I'll be back with a job. Best hurry up and leave town, though. The priests hear its call." And the stranger was gone, as soundlessly and suddenly as he'd arrived.

Jefferson didn't waste time. He was gone by sundown with little evidence he'd ever lived in the small apartment, and though the priests followed the Spirit's Vase trail to the edge of the capitol, they lost it there. The Vase was never recovered.

A lesser nobleman to the north, however, was very happy. And (fortunately for him) he paid Jefferson the promised price.

.

It was on his third job for his employer (who'd yet to tell Jefferson his name) that Jefferson found the hat.

.

Truly, Jefferson has no illusions about himself. He is not a good man. He's adventurous. Daring. Dashing. Just a little dangerous. He procures valuable items, wanders through exotic locales, romances ladies, princesses, and queens. He spins the hat and goes.

What do morals matter when the gold is plenty? Jefferson is at peace with himself.

.

Wonderland. What is there to say of it? It is a mad, confounding place. It mocks the rules. He hates Wonderland and Wonderland hates him.

.

He does not work solely for the Dark One, of course. Sometimes, he travels for himself, taking a vacation of sorts. Some of the trinkets he acquires, he keeps. Some he sells. Some he buries or burns because certain things are too dangerous, and it is not heroism. He likes the world, all worlds. He'd prefer to keep living.

Every so often, he goes to the kingdom of Jeffrey II. The Crown Prince is nearly grown now, a knight of valor and strength. Jeffrey II has a younger son and a daughter, as well. His queen, alas, passed away when the daughter was barely toddling.

Jeffrey II still takes his pleasure where he will, and now there is no kindly grandfather to send the women and their bastards away. Jeffrey II has his own policy.

The first and second time he noticed, Jefferson did nothing. But the third –

The third is a young woman with hair the color of his mother's, and a squalling infant in her arms with his mother's eyes.

Theft is not all Jefferson knows. He's also quite proficient with knives.

.

Jeffrey II dies three months before his oldest child attains his majority. It matters not; King Charles ascends the throne and he is a good king. Jefferson visits now and again, just to be sure.

.

Jeffrey's last conquest dies of her wounds. She tells Jefferson her daughter's name and sags in his grip, still trying to hand the infant to him. He doesn't even have the chance to summon a healer.

He stares down at the child and the child screams up at him, and there is a woman lying dead at his feet. He has allies but no friends, and a job with a deadline approaching. Inanely, he wonders if he should change his name.

But no. His mother chose it. Whatever her reason, whatever kind of man his father is, she named Jefferson for him.

"Grace," he whispers, cradling the infant to his chest. There is much to do.

.

Holding Grace, Jefferson lights her mother's pyre. Then he goes to Rumpelstiltskin. He is owed one last favor.

.

"Babysitting?" the Dark One demands, glaring at the baby gazing at him in awe.

"You know something of vengeance," Jefferson says. "Our last debt will be settled and I'll be gone. Just keep her safe for a week, it's all I need."

Rumpelstiltskin sighs, rolls his eyes, and reaches for Grace. Jefferson knows no one else in any of the worlds would trust him with a child – except maybe that maid he had, for a time. Jefferson had liked her.

Of course, probably not even that maid knew of Baelfire.

"Jeffrey's son," Rumpelstiltskin calls just before Jefferson steps through the door. "I've a special blade you should use. His soul will never find comfort." The blade appears in the air beside Jefferson and he grabs it.

In the hallway, he spins the hat. One in, one out. A king dead, scores settled, loose ends severed. The portal-jumper retiring annoys many, but Jefferson does not care.

He knows what happens to orphans; he'll not let that happen to Grace.

.

As far as anyone knows, Grace is Jefferson's daughter. Her mother died in an accident. Those who know of Jefferson's former profession come to their own conclusions. What Rumpelstiltskin knows, he never says.

.

Jefferson's one explanation for falling for Regina's tricks is how woefully out of practice he is. Ten years being a peasant, being a father – he'd tried to be respectable. Kept away from the shadows.

He hates Wonderland.

He hates the Queen of Hearts. He loses count of her games, has nightmares of her laughter, hears her voice in his head - you look like your father. he was much better than you. He kills many of her court, and she just laughs and laughs. He crafts thousands of hats and none ever work because nothing ever does in Wonderland, unless the queen wills it.

Only once does he meet the queen's eyes and say, "She looks like you." The queen slaps him, but it is Jefferson's laughter that rings throughout the workroom as the queen storms out.

.

Of course, he never escapes. He is pulled from Wonderland and shoved into Maine in a world without magic. He sleeps for the first week, explores the second, and plots the third.

He can leave the house, but not the grounds. He has knowledge in his head of the magicless world, and he utilizes it. As technology advances, he keeps abreast of it. He was the best thief of all the worlds, and not a half-bad assassin, as well.

He watches, and he waits.

That Grace is happy is the only thing that stays his hand until the Dark One's appointed Savior arrives in a little yellow bug.

.

When Snow White's panicked flight triggers the expensive alarm, Jefferson decides to offer aid to the enemy of his enemy. If he can help the Savior realize her destiny, that would be lovely, as well.

She makes a hat and as he falls through the window after it, he smiles because it spins and spins and spins.

.

He would've been content to wait for Rumpelstiltskin's plot to work; whatever vengeance he wreaked against Regina would've suited Jefferson fine.

But she leaves a card on Grace's bike, and that…

.

She wants his help. "And what makes you think I won't kill you after everything you've done?" he asks.

She smiles as she says, "Because you don't have it in you." She turns her back, pours two drinks, walks to him as she says, "If you did, you would have done it twenty-eight years ago when I brought you here." She settles before him, a smug smirk on her lips, as she says, "Because you know if I'm dead, you'll never get back to your daughter." She holds out the drink as she says, "And I have a way for us to both get what we want."

Jefferson remembers the frightened girl who he had to remind of her queenship, Rumpelstiltskin's nervous pupil, the lovesick and brokenhearted child he helped break even further. He's not a good man and he knows it because he still doesn't feel guilt for anything he's ever done, and anything he might have ever owed her was paid for in Wonderland.

There is no magic in Storybrooke, Maine. There are, however, online orders and deliveries for anything, if the price is right.

"You look like your mother," Jeffrey's son says, slicing her throat and then stabbing deep into her heart with his sharpest blade.

.

He goes home, after cleaning the mess. He brings her body to dispose of and resumes his vigil.

Bright and early the next morning, the former Dark One knocks on his door. "How," Rumpelstiltskin demands, "do you expect the Savior to break the curse without the Evil Queen to fight?"

Jefferson shrugs. "If you didn't plan for every outcome, that's not my problem." He grins at his one-time ally, the closest thing he's ever had to a friend, and then he closes the door.