Chapter 1: Grand Canyon

"What are you doing here, Neal?"

He jumped at her voice.

There was a very simple way to answer that question. He worked for the Nolans, where else would he be if not in their house?

But, as the family driver, being in her bedroom was not an easy thing to justify.

"I just… I- I was- You-"

"This has to stop," said Emma Swan, their only daughter, a stunning woman nearing her thirties, heir to her parents' business, one of the richest women in town. "If Killian finds you here, he will kill you."

He tried not to wince at that name. Killian Jones, her husband, one of the most suspicious men he had ever crossed paths with… And that was saying a lot, given the amount of suspicious people he ran across in his line of business.

Well… Not his daytime line of business, at least.

"Emma, chill out," he said, trying to look cool and collected, despite the twitch on his eye. "I'm just looking for your son."

"Why?"

"I have to drive him to school."

"Today is Sunday."

Damn.

"Well, looks like someone has been forgetting their own son's field trips."

"What field trip?"

He cleared his throat when she took a step closer to him, hands in her waist. Damn those stilettos. The woman was towering in front of him and making it even harder for him to focus and keep up with his tale.

"Grand Canyon."

"Grand Canyon? He's eleven!"

"So?" he shrugged, and shoved his hands in the pockets of his jacket. "I take it there's no age for… hiking."

"How come I was not notified?"

"You probably were. Have you been checking your e-m-"

"Neal!"

He wrinkled his nose as soon as Henry's voice reached his ears. In a matter of seconds, the boy was walking towards him, with a grin splattered across his face.

"Hey buddy!" he said, shuffling the boy's head as he wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

"Hey kid." The frown on Emma's face made it very obvious that soon enough his lie would go down the drain. "Since when you're going to the Grand Canyon?"

"I'm going to the Grand Canyon?" Henry asked, his eyes going wide with excitement.

"Yeah, your field trip, remember?"

Neal raised his eyebrows, his smile slightly shaky as he silently begged the kid to cooperate.

It wouldn't be the first time.

"Oh, right," the boy said, blinking before looking at his mother. "For Mr. Tillman's class."

"Really?" she asked, crossing her arms. "A field trip to the Grand Canyon for your crafts class?"

The boy opened his mouth to respond, and Neal felt bad for the kid. Emma Swan and her legendary bullshit detector.

Which only made him wonder how on earth she had married a man like Killian Jones.

"I'm quite sure the details are on the memo you got," Neal said, sending a wink towards his young partner in crime.

"I've already said I got no memo."

"Maybe you should check your e-mail, then," he concluded, leading Henry out of the room. "Because your husband has already signed the consent form."

"Whoa, thanks!" said Henry, as soon as they were out of hearing distance. "I should have thought of another teacher."

"That's fine, kid," he replied, looking at the boy with a smile. "Sorry for putting you on the spot."

"That's okay. So, what is the plan?"

Neal let out a sigh. He really wished he could tell Henry everything. But, if he did, the boy's life would definitely take a turn for the worse.

"I was just looking for something in your mother's room, and then she walked in on me," he said. It was the most absolute truth, after all. "You were the first excuse I could think of…"

"What were you looking for?" the boy asked, with a smirk. "Something from the time you were her boyfriend?"

Were her boyfriend. He really hated that verb in the past tense. And oh, he and Emma had been past for a very long time now…

"How do you know that?" he asked, to stop himself from drowning in memories.

"She told me some of your stories."

"Oh did she?"

"Yeah. She doesn't hate you, you know?"

'Yeah, she just happened to marry the man I hate the most in the entire world...'

"What is it I hear," said a familiar voice behind them. "You were caught in Mrs. Swan room?"

"Henry, can you go wait for me in the kitchen?" said Neal, before turning to look at his father, who also happened to work for the Nolans.

"What are you, stupid?" asked Mr. Gold, as he insisted on being called even when he was on duty – as a gardener.

"Hey, hey!" he exclaimed, turning to look at Henry to make sure the kid was far enough not to hear them. "At least I'm subtle, okay? Differently from you and your… methods."

"Subtle? Oh, indeed," said the older man, with a sneer that seemed to translate into his tone of voice. "Getting caught red-handed, very subtle."

"And who are you to judge me? Really, sneaking into the kitchen and putting parsley in his soup, knowing he is allergic to it?" Neal hissed in response. "Do you really think you're helping me get Emma back?"

"What are you complaining about? 'Til this day, they think it was Granny's fault."

"And you're proud of it? Of getting an innocent person involved in your mess? You can't be serious."

"Oh, you pay too much attention to the details, Bae."

Neal bit his lip, and a good observant would notice his nostrils flaring as he looked at his old man.

"We had agreed that if I'm not going to use your real name then you're not going to use mine."

"Oh, whatever," Mr. Gold replied, with an impatient wave. "All that matters to me, son, is that you and Emma get back together."

"Are you insane? I'm engaged!"

"And she is married! So what?"

Maybe the old man's intentions were genuine. But, for some reason, all his attempts to play Cupid backfired in such a way that by that time Neal wished he wouldn't bother trying to help at all.

"And I will do whatever I can to help," he heard his father add.

So much for that thought.