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Becca - Glad you saw that!

Anna followed Mr. Gold back into his shop, sitting down heavily in a chair as she watched him lock the door and turn the sign to "Closed". He then proceeded to shut the blinds. Completing all of this took a few minutes and she took the opportunity to try and calm herself.

"Anna..."

She looked up at Mr. Gold, who stood a few feet in front of her, for lack of another nearby chair. He leaned forward, both hands on his cane. "Anna, what did he say that upset you so much?"

She shook her head. "It was nothing really... just something that hit a personal sore spot. It's really none of your concern." She looked away.

"Yes, so people keep telling me."

Anna let her eyes dance around the room, looking anywhere but to his face. He was still just standing there, watching her, waiting for an answer.

"Here... you should be the one sitting." She began to stand.

"No." She froze, halfway out of the chair.

"I want you to stay there. Until you tell me what is going on."

Anna squeezed her eyes shut and ran her fingers through her hair. "Fine. You're being a pushy jerk, just so you know." He smiled thinly.

"He just said that I was an unhappy person. That I was the only unhappy person in a town where no one else was, and that no matter how hard I tried to hide it, I couldn't." She felt the tears welling back up. "He said something must be wrong with me."

A noise caught her attention and she wiped away the tears to look back up at Mr. Gold. A dark expression had come over his features. He looked furious. When he saw that she was staring at him he turned away from her, and began pacing.

"He's not wrong. I just... thought I was better at hiding it." She sighed deeply, looking down. "It's not my fault, though. Everyone here is happy because everything always goes well for them. I just seem to be the only one for... whom it doesn't." She looked up again, her eyes following the pacing figure of Mr. Gold. "I think I just don't belong here." He stopped pacing, still not meeting her gaze.

"Everyone knows that Storybrooke is different from the rest of the world. If I left, I might be able to find a place and people I could... fit in with with. But I couldn't get into school, for reasons I can't even contemplate, and - no offense to you – working here, I can't save up enough money to rub two dimes together." Anna could feel the anger of her situation and Gaston's actions starting to burn through the haze of her earlier desolation. He might have been cruel about the things he said, but him saying them made her realize something. This incident was going to help her make a decision she should have made long ago.

"I"m going to leave town."

Mr. Gold turned around to stare at her hard. "You can't."

Anna was surprised. Her boss had never struck her as a man who was the type to form attachments to persons.

"Why not?"

He took a few steps toward her, leaning forward. "Because nobody can."

She furrowed her brow. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Think about it, Miss French... have you ever heard of anyone leaving Storybrooke?"

"People leave all the time."

"Permanently?" He raised a brow.

She frowned, thinking. No one had ever left Storybrooke permanently, no. Why would they want to?

"Storybrooke is the happiest place on Earth." She almost managed to keep all the sarcasm out of her voice.

"Indeed. That's the way things turned out. Not what they were meant to be from the start."

"Excuse me?"

He leaned forward further, placing a hand on both arms of the chair she was occupying. She pressed herself back far against the seat back.

"Storybrooke is a cursed town, Miss French. No matter what reasons people tell themselves for staying, the truth is that this city will never let anyone leave. Bad things happen to people who try to leave."

Anna blinked a few times. "That's ridiculous." She tried to press herself back further into the seat, to no avail. Mr. Gold's face was far too close to her own. He didn't reply to her statement, but just looked at her, his eyes searching her face for something. Whether he found it or not, Anna couldn't fathom. All she could do was look back at him, wide eyed.

"You'll see." He leaned back up and away from her, and Anna let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding.

She nervously smoothed her hair, and tried to compose herself. "Let's assume that what you say is true. Maybe it will be different for me. Things are... unfortunate here for me. Maybe if I leave the opposite will happen and good things will happen. Maybe this is Storybrooke's way of telling me I don't belong here."

"You do belong here." He looked at her intently for a moment, then turned away sharply, swearing under his breath. "Don't think about leaving without notice, Miss French. I'm afraid I wouldn't be able to offer you a good reference if you were to do that." His tone was sharper now than before.

"I... well... I won't. I need to make... arrangements first." Anna's mind was racing. Now that she'd actually decided she was going to leave this place, she had no idea what to do next. Where would she even go? A slight fear began to rise in her, and she pushed it down. That wouldn't help anything. People began fresh in other places all the time. So could she. What Mr. Gold said about Storybrooke not letting her go sounded like a fairy tale, and she cursed him inwardly for making her doubt herself.

"Good. I believe two weeks is the standard time, at the very least."

"Y-yes."

"Then I suppose if you have so many...arrangements to make you'd better hurry and get started." He suddenly looked very preoccupied, like he had better things to do.

That's a dismissal if I ever heard one.

Anna tried to suppress her annoyance at this man. Protecting her one minute and telling her to get out in the next.

"You're right. I'll just be going then." She stood up and grabbed her keys and bag, and stomped over to the door, opening it. She turned around to see Mr. Gold still standing where he had been, but he didn't turn to look at her as she left and closed the door.

About twenty minutes later Anna was walking through her own front door. She threw her things on the table and sat down heavily, leaning her hands against her head and just stared straightforward. She never would have thought a few short hours ago her planned path would have veered so suddenly. Not that she'd had much of a plan. She closed her eyes, calling up the memory of Gaston saying something was wrong with her. It hurt to think about, to be sure, but would give her the determination to leave this place, despite the fear that was slowly...oh so slowly working its way to a more dominant place in her heart.

A few days passed. Anna had immersed herself in researching any employment opportunities in nearby towns. She sent off some email applications and inquiries about rooms and apartments for rent. Luckily, she'd been renting her apartment long enough that she didn't need to give much notice to her landlord before she left. She still had shifts to cover at work, and was concerned how working with Mr. Gold would go when they had parted on such a sour note. However, as soon as she came in to work, he left, saying he had other things to attend to. This pattern kept every time she came in for the next week and a half. She was relieved to an extent, but sad.

She would never have admitted it before, but Mr. Gold was probably the closest thing to a confidant she had. She'd certainly revealed more to him in their last altercation than she'd ever felt free to say to anyone else. It made her want to apologize, even though in her mind she hadn't said anything she needed to be repentant for. Mr. Gold obviously didn't feel that way, or else he wouldn't be avoiding her the way he was, would he?

The next day Anna came to work, and for the first time Mr. Gold didn't make the quick excuse to leave that he usually did. After taking a moment to straighten some paperwork behind the counter, he walked over to where she was organizing the bookshelves.

"Anna..." She turned around to face him. He had his features set into a properly apologetic expression. "I want to apologize for the way I acted towards you last week." He glanced away, then back at her, his grip on his cane tightening. "I was... bothered by Gaston's cruel actions towards you. And your intention to leave. It was all very surprising. Please forgive me."

"It's forgotten." She gave him a genuine smile, relieved that the situation between them had finally begun to resolve.

"Also, I'd like to have you over to my home for dinner tomorrow evening... a sort of farewell. I'll be losing my best employee."

Her smile widened. "I'm your only employee."

"Indeed." He returned her smile. "That doesn't change the truth of the statement."

"I'd be delighted."

"Excellent. Come by at about 7:00. Everything will be ready."

"Ok."

They spent the rest of the workday in companionable silence, with Mr. Gold mostly working on that old book at his table, which had been neglected during his absence. She left at 5:00, when the shop was usually closed for the day, but Mr. Gold said he wanted to stay behind longer to catch up on his restoration work, so Anna walked to her car alone. Surprisingly, she was really looking forward to dinner at her boss's house. It was nice discovering she did indeed have someone here she could talk to about things. It was almost like having a friend.

Some people might consider it inappropriate, but she couldn't imagine what ulterior motive he could have from a simple dinner. He might try to use this opportunity to talk her again out of leaving. She half expected it. Which was fine. She was not going to change her mind, and she could use the practice arguing her point. She hadn't told her dad yet about her plans to go. Or Gaston. Not that it was any of his business.

She paused, thinking about what her dad said about Gaston thinking of taking on a business internship in Augusta. She made a mental note not to move to Augusta. The last thing she needed was to end up far away in a strange city with that jerk being the only person she knew. He'd probably try to take advantage of that, somehow. She shuddered at the thought.

Once home, Anna went to her closet and examined the contents, frowning. She'd never really had much of a reason to keep many fancy clothes, but she was sure that with a little effort she could come up with something appropriate to wear to dinner with Mr. Gold.

Anna again found herself nervously smoothing her hair as she approached the door to Mr. Gold's. She'd spent a few hours getting ready, even though it's just for a friendly dinner, finally selecting a light blue summer dress and white blouse ensemble she'd purchased several months ago and not found occasion to wear yet. It was perfect for tonight, though. Not too dressy, and not too casual.

She drew her hand back to rap lightly on the frame of the stained glass door, but it opened beneath her fist before she even came in contact with it. She probably looked surprised and a little silly with her raised hand in mid-knock. She might have felt a bit embarrassed if Mr. Gold weren't wearing a similar surprised... no, shocked expression as he took in her attire. She blushed.

It's not so unusual to see me in a dress, is it?

After a few awkward moments, Mr. Gold took a step back, bowing slightly and gesturing for her to enter. "You look lovely...Anna. Please come in."

He didn't look too bad himself. He always wore a suit, but this one was black with a lovely sheen. He also wore a dark green shirt that looked like it could be silk, and a gold tie. She approved.

"Thank you. So do you." Anna stepped into the main hallway. She'd been here a few times before, to help Mr. Gold bring things from his home that he wanted to take to the shop, and vice versa. It never ceased to amaze her, the collection of antiques he owned. The things in his own home were even more amazing than the high priced merchandise he kept at his shop. She asked him how he came by all of it once, and he replied "Ebay" with a perfectly straight face. It had made her laugh right in front of him. She'd never even seen him use a computer in all the time she'd worked with him. She was fairly sure he didn't own one, and the only way he ever would is if they suddenly began to qualify as antiques. She never had gotten a straight answer about his acquisitions, however. He was a private man.

She rounded the corner into the living room and gasped at the display set out before her. The long dining table was covered in a woven lace cloth, topped with gleaming silverware and what was the most delicate china dishes she'd ever seen. A blue and white tea service in the center of the table caught her eye. She picked up a chipped cup from the tray they sat on. It was feather light in her hand. She ran a finger over the blemish. It was nearly smooth, like hands had already run themselves over that broken spot many times.

"This is a beautiful set. What happened to this one?" She turned back towards Mr. Gold, who was again wearing that strained expression she saw when he first opened the door.

"Housekeeper dropped it."

"Oh." She raised her eyebrows. "I didn't know you kept a..."

"Not anymore," he interrupted.

"I see. Did you fire her for breaking your cup?" She smiled teasingly.

"No." He looked away, a pained expression on his face. No explanation was forthcoming. Her smile faltered.

"Are you feeling alright?"

"I'm fine, dearie. This old wound is just bothering me a little more than normal today."

"Oh! I'm so sorry...did you make dinner yourself?" He'd probably been standing awhile in the kitchen to do so.

"I did. Is it the idea of my cooking that makes you so sorry?" A ghost of a smile returned to his features.

"Yes. I mean No! I'm sure it's wonderful... but your leg. You should sit and let me get everything from the kitchen."

"I cook all the time. One must eat. No need to feel apologetic about it."

"Still. Let me get it... Please." She looked imploringly at him.

He sighed, and sat down. "Very well. But you only make me feel older than I am with fussing like that."

"You aren't old... you're injured. That's completely different."

He smirked. "Thank you. I feel much better about myself now."

She sighed melodramatically. "Don't be so difficult. It will only take me a minute. If we have to wait for you, the food will be cold by the time we are ready to eat." she let the teasing note from earlier return to her voice.

He grunted, and she went to the kitchen, smiling once again. The food smelled delicious as she carried out the few dishes she found waiting on the counter. Mr. Gold was once again standing, with a bottle of wine he'd just opened, pouring it into two glasses. He raised an eyebrow as she entered.

"Is red wine to your liking?"

She tilted her head slightly and regarded him, deciding how to answer. "Well, I've honestly never had much of a taste for wine, red or white. But I'm certain it's an acquired taste. And the only way to acquire that is to try."

He smiled, his gaze still looking down at the wine as he poured. "You've never had any of this wine. It's my own special blend."

"You make wine as well?" He was full of surprises. Though, wine seemed an elegant and refined thing, like Mr. Gold himself. And it had potential to become better with age, like... she stopped that thought, blushing.

"It's a hobby." He stated, looking up, taking in her reddening visage with a curious glance. He held out the slender glass to her, and she took it, her fingers brushing his.

She took a sip and swallowed, trying to savor the flavor. She was surprised. He was right - it really was different from other wine she'd had. It was bitter, but with a sweet aftertaste. It almost smelled like... roses? She closed her eyes and took a larger sip, tilting her head back a little, letting more of the liquid flow over her tongue. She swallowed. It really did taste of roses. Incredible. She opened her eyes again and his gaze had drifted down to her neck, an intent look on his face.

Self consciously, she put a hand up to her neck, breaking his line of vision, and he lifted his eyes to her. "So... what do you think?"

"It's amazing. How did you do it? Make it taste like roses?"

"It has to do with the soil the grapes are grown in. They take on the taste of the land and plants around them."

"You have a rose and grape garden?"

"Not anymore. I made this blend a long time ago."

"When?"

"Too many years to count."

She frowned, once again disappointed in his lack of voluntary information. He distracted her from the thought by leaning forward and taking the glass from her hand, setting it down on the now food-laden table.

"Please. Sit." He pulled out the chair for her. She smiled at him.

"How gentlemanly of you."

"I can be a gentleman when I want to be."

Anna sat down, surveying the food in front of her. She was disappointed, as always, with Mr. Gold's topic changing, but she really did need to go ahead and eat something. That tiny bit of wine was already going to her head.

She took a napkin and placed it in her lap, and pulled the plate Mr. Gold had prepared towards her. She couldn't decide what to try first. She started in on something that looked like a pudding of some sort. It was delicious. She sighed, closing her eyes and licking the spoon. "This is wonderful."

"Thank you." His voice had a slightly husky quality to it. She looked up, startled. His eyes were dark as he looked at her, but he turned away towards his own plate. "I see you are a dessert first kind of girl." He took a bite of food.

"I suppose so..." she fidgeted with her spoon, twirling in the pudding on the plate. "Dad always used to tell me I could only have dessert after I'd eaten...but it always seemed to me I ate the same amount regardless so," she shrugged, "why delay the inevitable?" She took another bite of pudding, then paused, frowning. She felt worse than before. This couldn't be just from those few swallows of wine she took.

"I couldn't agree more."

She shook her head a little, but it didn't help. It only made it worse. "I feel strange..."

Her dinner partner pushed his chair back, standing. "Anna... maybe you should lie down."

"No." She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, then peered up at him. "Did you... put something in my drink?"

Mr. Gold stood for a moment, as if considering his answer, then shrugged. "Yes."

"What! Why?" Anna shoved her seat back from the table, then wobbled in her chair. She would have fallen to the ground if Mr. Gold hadn't been right there to catch her.

"Careful, Anna."

"Why are you doing this?" She could hear the tears in her own voice. "I thought...that we were friends."

He looked down at her, one hand braced against her chair back, his forearm curled around her shoulders, keeping her upright. The other was twined in her hair.

"Friends? I don't think anyone has ever considered me that. But trust me when I say this is for your own good."

"I don't understand." Her words slurred.

"You will." He leaned down toward her.

"It's time to wake up now... Belle." His lips pressed against hers as he tightened his grip on her shoulders and hair. She felt the darkness that had been slowly creeping up on her since she took a sip of the wine totally sweep her away.