Storybrooke
I sighed heavily, falling into my little red car. I pulled on my seatbelt and headed for home. The drive was barely more than fifteen minutes, but it dragged on. It wasn't until I pulled into my driveway that I realized I hadn't turned the radio on. I usually couldn't drive without it.
Popping the trunk, I climbed out of the 1999 Cougar and retrieved my cleaning supplies. This consisted of a bucket of clean wash rags, a bucket of dirty ones and my used mop. I closed the trunk and left everything outside while I unlocked the door. I carried everything into the laundry room, kicking the front door closed as I passed it.
A distinct purring noise could be heard and seconds later, Shadow came around the corner. She was all black from head to toe, without a speck of any other color. I knew most people were superstitious about black cats and it'd been one of the main reasons I'd picked her out from the shelter.
I scooped her up and roughly pet her for a moment before letting her out of my arms onto the dryer while I loaded the washing machine with the dirty rags and the gross mop head. I hit the button and the cat jumped down, rubbing up against my legs. I smiled down at her, scratching the top of her head again before digging in the fridge for something to eat.
Left over pasta and broccoli was the only thing that sounded remotely good, so it was sent to the microwave while I headed for the bedroom to change. Once I'd crawled out of my cleaning clothes and into something so holey and too large, I'd never wear into public, I removed the dish from the microwave and plopped onto the couch.
Shadow jumped onto the couch and cuddled up next to me. I scratched her every two or three bites, watching the news program that came on. The weather man told us about how we'd get a couple inches of rain in the next couple days to mellow out of the ridiculous heat wave we'd recently got.
When I finished the pasta, I put the dish on the coffee table and pulled my date book close. I had two cleanings tomorrow that took up most of the day and only one job at seven tomorrow night. I sighed. It wasn't looking good. Most of the week was devoid of work and I didn't want to think how I'd be paying my rent this month if I didn't get more calls for either of my painfully laborious jobs.
My cell phone rang and I jumped, not expecting any calls this evening. I stood up, picking the device up off the counter. "Hello?"
"Uh, yes. Hello. I'm looking for Jamie Winston?" The deep voice on the other line said.
He was obviously calling for my cleaning services, as nobody from my other job knew my real name, even if they knew my face. "This is her."
"Oh, excellent. I'm in desperate need of your services." He said and I hesitated, wondering if he really was calling about my other job.
"What can I do for you?" I asked.
"Well, you see. I've just moved all my things into my new house from out of state and I need a bit of help with it. I wasn't sure if you'd be willing to help a gent unpack for a price, or if you solely clean residences." He said in a strong tone he didn't have a moment ago. He also had a deep accent. I couldn't tell if it was British or Scottish, but it was definitely dreamy to hear.
"I don't usually help people unpack." I started, then paused. If he was willing to pay me, what the hell did it matter what I was doing to help him? "But I'm having a pretty slow week, so I could help with that I suppose. My rate is $15 an hour."
"To be completely honest with you," He said with a sigh and I didn't know what to expect next. "I've called five different outfits and you're the only one to say you'd even help with the task. I'll pay you however much as long as you'll assist my unpacking."
I smiled to myself a little as I reached for my date book and flipped to the back that had my client's information in it. "I'll need your name, a phone number I can reach you at during the day and your address."
"My name is Killian Jones, a pleasure. The number I rang you on is my most direct line and my address…" He trailed off and I could hear the sound of a screen door slam against the threshold. He stepped outside. Being new in town, he didn't even know his own address. "1389 Palmer Street. The side that faces the old metal barn."
I rolled my eyes. I knew he meant the old Cobb slaughterhouse but he didn't know any better. "Alright." I said, flipping through to the calendar. "I'm booked tomorrow, but I can be there bright and early Thursday morning, if you'd like."
He hesitated. "I'd prefer not too bright, nor early. I'm a bit of an evening person myself. Perhaps about nine or ten?"
I shook my head. This was definitely going to be an interesting client. "Ten on Thursday, just so I'm not too early for you."
"Thanks, love. I much appreciate it. I'll see you then." He said and the line died.
I put my phone back in my pocket, penciling him in. I paused, thinking about his voice. I couldn't remember ever being so caught by just a voice. I knew I wanted to meet him as soon as he started talking. I bit my lip. Work and pleasure don't mix. I'd learned that the hard way. I closed my date book and returned to snuggle with Shadow on the couch.
The next day was hell on wheels. Both of my cleaning clients ran late. I barely had enough time to run home and sprint through the shower before meeting my client at seven. I was nearly ten minutes late to the bar where we'd deemed our meet up location. The first introduction was always in a public place.
It didn't help because he'd slapped me right across the face. Jonny, the bartender, shooed the man from the establishment and I was in tears by the time I got home. It wasn't because he'd hit me; I didn't care about the pain or how my cheek was slowly turning a shade of crimson. I had lost a bunch of money by botching the evening with being late.
Shadow found me crying by the front door, in a messy pile of black dress and high heels. I hugged the cat tightly before moving into the bedroom. Sitting in front of the mirror, I bit my lip. The woman staring back at me wasn't Jamie Winston, cleaning lady extraordinaire.
No, this woman was calm and suave and beautiful. Ginger Rogers was a call girl. I sat there, staring at this woman who wasn't actually me, but at the same time, was exactly me. I pulled the long red haired wig off and hung it up, shaking out my short black hair.
I'd had to adopt the second job when I couldn't pay all my bills by cleaning alone. It wasn't as if we lived in a small town, but my clientele was starting to dwindle. I only had a handful of regulars left. Slowly, in much the same fashion as I put the makeup on, I pulled it off. My eyes didn't look as big or bright, my skin was more uneven, and my lips a pale pink on their own.
Crawling into bed was hard, knowing I'd lost a client. It's what I worked so hard for. It's what I'd put so much effort into my appearance later in the evenings. I set my alarms, knowing I didn't have to be up as early as I had today. Mr. Jones wasn't an early riser obviously, and I was thankful, knowing I could have a few more hours to clean myself up before venturing over to his house.
The Enchanted Forest
I stood on the balcony of my castle, overlooking the great sea to the north and a mountainous valley to the east, leading around to the Dark Forest to the south and the Enchanted Forest farther south. I smiled, watching the quiet valley to the east be itself. I could feel the hum of the dragons below me through my bare feet. They raced through the air so fast, playing with one another that it caused the castle to vibrate sometimes.
Any other person may have complained about the dragons, possibly even calling them disturbing. But they were all my children and children were meant to play and enjoy themselves. I felt no need to scold them or force them to stop.
A small dragon flew up to the balcony, parking itself on the railing. He grinned at me and gave a small roar. He was my youngest dragon, but he was strong and I could tell he'd live a long and healthy life.
"What is it, my love? Why aren't you playing with the others?" I asked him.
The dragon looked a bit defeated; it's normally black scales flashing a hint of green for an instant. He was upset.
"Oh, my dear. Are they making fun of you again?" I asked, stepping over to him to make him look at me.
He coughed a breath of smoke and nodded his head.
"They mean no harm; they just don't understand how deeply you feel things. They will learn to love you when you're stronger. Come tend the garden with me." I told him with a smile, turning to head for the outer doors.
The dragon would launch itself, soaring twenty or thirty yards before landing, and looking back at me to make sure I was still coming. He was barely smaller than me and I knew the other dragons picked on him, but he had a good heart. He'd be a savior; never a terror.
We walked until we got to the garden. I instructed him to singe some of the Strangling Stingers, the viney plants that liked to slowly kill everything else in the garden. Fire was the only way to completely get rid of them.
He whimpered and looked over at me, hanging his head. In his haste to help me, he'd singed part of the rose bush I'd been given as a gift over a hundred years ago.
"Oh, come now. You've not killed it. Merely injured it." I told him, coming over with a pair of pruning sheers. I snipped off the burnt edges and another flower grew back. "See. Maybe it just needed more love than I've been giving it lately."
He nuzzled up against me, asking for reassurance that I wasn't mad.
I smiled down at him, brushing my hand over his scales and scratching him under the chin. "There's not a single thing you could do that would make me mad, Euflamm."
In his mind, he was thinking of an image he'd seen in one of the books I'd read him. It was of a knight attempting to kill a black dragon, but the dragon killed him before the knight had the chance.
I frowned at him. "Killing is not what dragons do. It is your very last resort and if it is the only way, you must make sure as few people as possible die. Listor was a selfish dragon how cared for no one. Would you kill a human if I told you there were other ways of dealing with them?"
He seemed to consider my words before shaking his head. He knew better and I smiled at him.
"Good lad. Now, the daylight hours are draining me of my strength. Go play with your brothers and sisters. Tell them I've gone to lay down and I wish not to be awoken unless there's trouble in the valley. Make sure Telenor is keeping watch." I instructed him.
He nodded quickly before flying off to meet the other dragons.
I smiled, retiring to my bed chambers.