Mr. Gold fastened his seat-belt. "Why are these seats so close together? I feel cramped, Ms. Swan. And I don't like feeling cramped."
Emma patted his hand, reassuringly. "It's a short flight. Some flights are twelve hours, you have nothing to complain about."
Emma reached into her bag and pulled out the Vogue she'd purchased in the book shop.
"Forgive me, Ms. Swan, but I've never pegged you for a fashion magazine type of girl."
"What, because of my addiction to leather jackets?"
"Maybe.'
Emma rolled her eyes, "Ok. You caught me."
"What?"
"I'm trying to impress someone."
Mr. Gold laughed. "By ditching the jackets in favor of..." he looked at the cover of the magazine and read a headline, "fun, flirty frocks?"
"No," Emma said. "I'm not switching to 'fun, flirty frocks.' I'm just trying to understand how all this fashion stuff works."
"For who, dearie?"
"You're going to laugh at me, Gold."
"Dearie, I need to hear a good love story. I need some cheering up. My love is lying in a hospital bed and has no idea who I am."
"Right," Emma patted his hand again. "I'm sorry about that.
"Please fasten your seat-belts in preparation for take-off. Turn off all of your electronics and put your seats in the proper upright position," said a flight attendant.
"Right, here we go," said Emma.
Gold gripped the armrests of his chair and his knuckles turned white. Emma patted his arm. "I don't trust these machines," he said.
"You sound like a grumpy old man," Emma said.
"I am a grumpy old man," he said.
They were silent until the plane reached it' proper cruising altitude.
"My ears hurt," Mr. Gold said.
"It's just the air pressure," Emma said. "You'll get used to it."
"I don't like it. And these chairs are too tiny. And you said they'd bring drinks, I want one."
"Now you sound like a whiny baby," Emma said. She pointed to a picture in her Vogue magazine, "Have you ever heard of this lady?"
"No," he said. "Good gods, what is she wearing?"
"It's Lady Gaga," Emma laughed. "And she's wearing a dress made of meat."
"What is wrong with this world?"
"I don't know, Gold. I just don't know."
"Are there going to be people in dresses like that in New York?"
"No, of course not. She's a pop star. Everyday people don't dress like that"
"Ok." He paused, thought for a second, then said. "Ms. Swan, you were in the middle of telling me about your love interest when we were rudely interrupted by the take-off. Who is this love, dearie?"
"Oh, no one."
"Ms. Swan, I could read your mind if I wanted too, you might as well tell me."
Emma tried to scoot an inch away from him, but the tiny seat kept her close. "You can read minds?"
"Don't you remember what I did to Pongo?"
"Right." Emma looked freaked out. "Um, well. There's this person. I think we'd be good together, but I don't know. It's complicated."
"Dearie, spit it out."
"Um, well, I sort of, it's kind of like this, I don't. It's a little bit complicated. I sort of have a thing for Regina."
Mr. Gold raised his eyebrows. "Well, Ms. Swan, that's not quite the answer I was expecting. But, if she's going to end up with anyone, it might as well be the mother of her child."
Emma smiled, "See, that's what I think too. It'd be so perfect. We could have a family- her, me, and Henry."
"She's a dark character, though. I'd be careful. She used to be so innocent and sweet, but she changed. I saw her change."
"How?"
"I was her teacher. I taught her all the magic that she knows."
Emma looked shocked, "So, you're the reason she's so dangerous sometimes?"
"No, dearie. She's dark and dangerous because she's broken. I just taught her how to channel that energy. But, you seem like the kind of person who could put her back together again."
"I've never heard you have so much faith in love before."
"Someone has to get it right, dearie. Every relationship I've ever had has ended horridly. It'd be nice to see some young people get it right for once."
"Oh. Thanks. I'd love to see us get it right, but she seems a little closed off right now."
"We did just accuse her of murder," Mr. Gold explained.
"Right, well, the case was air-tight. Anyone would have believed it."
"We read the memory of a dog..."
Emma looked sheepish. "Fine, maybe not airtight.."
"Ms. Swan, you're not off to a good start."
"I know. I know. Maybe when we get back to Storybrooke I'll invite her over for dinner."
Mr. Gold laughed, "In your parents apartment?"
"Right." Emma tried to think of a good alternative. She couldn't invite Regina to Granny's, that was too public. But there weren't a lot of other good dining options in Storybrooke.
"You could go over to her house and cook."
"Did you just read my mind?" Emma asked, somewhat offended.
"No, dearie. Your body language is pretty readable."
"Right. Um. Well, I don't cook."
"Apparently, neither do the people on this airplane. What is this?" He picked up the bag that a flight attendant had just handed him.
"Salted nuts," said Emma. "Pretty standard airplane snack food."
"I don't like it," said Mr. Gold. "I really don't like it."
"You haven't even tasted it yet," Emma said, opening her own bag of salted cashews and peanuts. She put a couple in her mouth, and immediately spit them back out again.
"Charming."
Emma rolled her eyes. "Haha. You are so clever. But seriously, these are disgusting."
"I told you," said Mr. Gold. "Why would you trust food given to your 5,000 feet above the ground?"
"Because I'm hungry."
"We'll eat when we get off this thing." He was quiet for a moment, then said. "Ms. Swan, what does one do if one has to use the bathroom on this machine?"
Emma pointed to the back of the plane. "There are bathrooms back there, Gold. They are sort of tiny."
"How tiny?"
Emma laughed and said, "Very tiny."
Gold stood up, and the plane hit some turbulence. He slipped and landed on top of the lady in the next row.
"Sorry, ma'am," he said. She winked at him and said, "You can stay, you know."
"He's taken," said Emma. Realizing how possessive she sounded, she added, "Not by me. We aren't together. He has a girlfriend. She's cool."
The lady turned away, and Mr. Gold continued down the aisle. The bathroom was much smaller than he expected. There was barely any room and it stank.
"This won't do," he said, and with a cloud of purple smoke, he made the bathroom smell like old books (his favorite smell). He waved his hands in front of the mirror, and an image of a woman appeared.
"Belle," he whispered. He couldn't see her face, she was hidden behind a book. She was still sitting in the hospital bed. After a moment, someone entered the room and Belle put down the book.
"How are you doing, sweetheart?" said a silky voice.
Gold felt his heart stop, "Regina," he muttered. "If you hurt her, I swear I'll kill you."
Regina was dressed as a nurse.
"I'm doing well," said Belle. "Can I go soon?"
"Yes," said Regina, "I just have to ask you a few questions first."
"Ok."
"What do you remember about the night of the accident?"
"Well," Belle thought for a second. Her hand traced the cover of her book as she said, "There was a man with a gun, but he was hit by a car. There was another man, holding me."
Mr. Gold felt his heart stop.
"Did you know that man? The one that was holding you?" Regina asked, taking notes on a clipboard.
"No, but he kept calling me Belle. My name isn't Belle. I don't even know who Belle is."
"That's OK," said Regina.
"No," said Belle. "I want to know what he was talking about. He came in to my hospital room too. He wanted to know if I remembered a cup."
"Was it a chipped cup?" Regina asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Yes," said Belle. "He said it was enchanted."
"Oh, did he now?"
"Yes. But that's not possible."
"No, dear, you're right. That's not possible."
Gold felt his heart sink to the floor.
Regina took some final notes on her clipboard, said, "Ok, you should be able to go soon," and left the room. Gold heard a knock at the bathroom door, so he cleared the mirror, and left the bathroom. There was a long line of people outside of it. "Sorry," he mumbled. He headed back to his seat.
