A/N: Thank you, Sparked to Life, for your review. To answer your question, yes, Bae was the only person taken from Neverland. The details of how it happened will be explained, but not for a while, so I'll tell you now that Regina actually meant to take someone else. She does not know who Bae actually is, and she is not aware that she took him from Neverland; she simply thinks that he's a random peasant and that Pan blocked her from taking the person she originally meant to.


Not According to Plan

Chapter 7: The Times They Are A Changin'

~Catspook


The package arrived a week after the Sheriff's death.

"What is that?" Bae asked, his nose wrinkling.

"Lanolin and wool, from a farm in Vermont. You remember where Vermont is?"

Bae nodded. "Two states to the west, next to New Hampshire. The Ben & Jerry's factory is there."

"Correct." Rumplestiltskin smiled. Bae was making excellent progress in his lessons despite of how behind he was; he was particularly good with maps, so Rumplestiltskin incorporated them into their lessons as often as possible.

"What are you going to use it for?" Bae asked, sniffing at the lanolin again. He looked wary.

Rumplestiltskin couldn't answer that, of course, so he sidestepped. "The wool is for spinning; it's a finer texture than what I've been working with. And lanolin is used for waterproofing, among other things."

"Waterproofing the wool?"

Rumplestiltskin smirked. "Well, that's what the sheep use it for, but humans use it on a variety of surfaces."

"I see." But he still seemed troubled.

Rumplestiltskin frowned. Could Bae's memories be seeping through? Of everything Rumplestiltskin had wanted Bae to remember, he'd been hoping the history of the dagger (and everything that followed) would stay buried until the curse broke. If it surfaced, Bae would be hurt and frightened without understanding what was happening; he could end up like the Huntsman, babbling about magic.

It gave Rumplestiltskin pause. He'd debated with himself about how to steer the election. He could not rig it outright, or Regina, if she discovered it, could annul the results and have Emma removed. Furthermore, Emma would not have earned the title of hero if he did that, which would endanger her final victory over Regina. No, he could not hand her the role, but he needed to steer her into it, and publicly.

He had Seen, back in the Enchanted Forest, that he would allow her to defeat him in order to inspire the people. He'd since filled in the details and hatched a plan: offer to help her with the election, set her up as a false hero, and let her reveal the deception in a public forum, thus becoming a true hero. The townsfolk would see her as their salvation from not only Regina but him as well, and they would rally behind her. It was a perfect plan; he knew it would work.

But then there was Bae. As with that mess with the maid and her baby, Rumplestiltskin's only misgiving was that he did not wish for his son to see him as the town monster. But unlike that absurd affair, he saw no way around it now. No alternative he could think of was a guarantee, and few had even a plausible chance of success. There was only one beast in town for Emma to figuratively slay, and that was him.

It has to be this way. I'll explain everything, and Bae will understand. And even if he didn't, the most important thing was to keep his boy safe; this was the only way to ensure that. He had to do this. Nothing is as important as Bae's safety.


Bae was worried. He didn't quite know why; he had just had a bad feeling since he smelled that stuff that came in the mail today. And Papa was acting weird. In the week since the sheriff had died, he'd started acting… Bae wasn't sure how to describe it. Almost like he was working on something he didn't want Bae to know about. Bae didn't like it.

He hadn't liked rent day either. On Sunday, Papa had gone out and collected rent from people. Bae had asked to come, and Papa had said that the rents he collected in person were the most "difficult" tenants, and he didn't want Bae involved in it in case someone tried to "kick up a fuss". Instead, Bae had spent the morning walking around town and the afternoon at the Storybrooke Coffee Company, drinking what Papa liked to call 'elaborate' coffee and reading the next few stories in his anthology: The Tell-Tale Heart, The Lottery, and The Ones Who Walk Away from Omelas. Bae didn't suppose it had helped his mood that the stories were so depressing.

Papa had only let him join him for his last few stops, all older people who "just don't trust checks". The last was Mrs. Lucas, who ran the inn and the diner. She'd glared at Bae's father, and he'd responded with a smile that Bae didn't trust. Mrs. Lucas' granddaughter, Ruby, had been friendly enough to Bae, but kept shooting Papa suspicious looks. And once they had left, Bae had heard Mrs. Lucas yelling at Ruby about her outfit; apparently, Mrs. Lucas had noticed Bae staring at it - which Bae hadn't even realized he was doing.

Bae had blushed when he heard that, and Papa had noticed. "Don't trouble yourself Bae; Miss Lucas' attire is designed to attract attention. No one could fault you for looking."

"She thinks you're going to raise the rent on them for 'corrupting' me."

Papa had snorted. "I don't care for how Miss Lucas dresses, but a teenage boy looking at pretty girls is hardly 'corrupt'; it's inevitable."

"So you won't raise their rent?"

Papa had given him an odd look then. "I raise their rent at the beginning of every fiscal year to keep pace with the cost of inflation - as I do with all my tenants."

"I… good." Bae hadn't known what he had been afraid of just then, but once he sat down and talked it through with himself like Archie was teaching him to do, he realized that he had been - and was still - afraid that Papa would lash out at people for hurting Bae. He didn't know why he felt that way. Papa had never done such a thing as far as Bae knew (although he had said something to that effect about the mayor, but then promised not to). But sometimes Papa had a frightening way about him, and since the Sheriff's death, he'd been that way more and more. Bae hadn't realized how much until that package came in the mail.

As Bae was shutting down his computer in preparation for bed, Papa asked him if he was all right. "If something is bothering you, Bae, I want you to tell me."

"I'm fine, Papa," he insisted. He wasn't, and they both knew it, but how could he explain what he was afraid of? 'Papa, I'm afraid you'll hurt people' - no, he couldn't tell him that; he couldn't even tell Archie that. It's crazy. "Good night."

"Good night. I love you, Bae."

"I love you too, Papa." And he did, he truly did. But I'm scared too. Bae felt wretched, and it took a long time for him to fall asleep that night.


Rumplestiltskin knew something was wrong. Bae was upset and wouldn't tell him why. Does he even know? It was tearing him up to watch his boy suffer, but there was nothing he could do. Bae was already seeing the cricket and had said he thought it was helping, but clearly it wasn't, not enough.

The more he thought about it, the more he knew that Bae wouldn't approve of his plans for the election - but if he didn't go through with them, Emma might lose, which would drag the curse out and could put Bae in danger. Even if he hates me, I have to keep him safe. Villains don't get happy endings, after all. But Bae was not a villain, and he deserved one. Even if it's without me.

His resolve didn't last the night.

It was well past midnight when he finally headed up to bed. As he reached the top of the stairs, he heard Bae's voice. Concerned, he pressed and ear to his door. "No… no… Papa, don't… please stop…"

Feeling sick, Rumplestiltskin yanked the door open and stumbled to the bed. As he had thought, Bae was dreaming - begging in his sleep, with tears running down his face. "Bae!" Rumplestiltskin shook him by the shoulder. "Waken up, Bae!"

Bae woke with a gasping sob. "Papa." But he wasn't asking for comfort; when he saw who was standing over him, he panicked and scuttled back against the headboard. Rumplestiltskin's heart clenched.

"Bae," he said in what he hoped was a calming voice, "You were dreaming; it's all right."

"I… I…" Bae was breathing hard, clearly terrified by his dream and sudden awakening.

"I'm not going to hurt you."

"I know," Bae replied automatically. Of course that had never been the issue - not even at his worst had Rumplestiltskin turned on Bae. Everyone else, yes, but not once had Bae even been in danger from his temper. But there are other ways to hurt him, aren't there?

"Do you remember what you were dreaming?"

Bae blinked. "No. Nothing." That must have been the curse at work. "I just…"

"Yes?"

"I…"

Rumplestiltskin took a chance and sat on the edge of the bed. He reached out a hand. Bae took it. "Bae, what is it? Please tell me."

"I… I'm afraid," he said in a small voice that broke Rumplestiltskin's heart.

"What are you afraid of, Son?"

"I… I can't. It's stupid."

"No, it's not. If you're afraid, tell me why; I can't fix it if you don't tell me what's wrong."

He took a shuddering breath. "I'm afraid you'll hurt people," he blurted out. "For hurting me - even if they didn't mean to. I told you, it's stupid."

Rumplestiltskin closed his eyes. "It's not stupid, Bae."

"Yes it is. You wouldn't - you said so."

It took Rumplestiltskin a moment to realize what Bae was referring to - the conversation they had had about Regina right after he took Bae grocery shopping for the first time. At the time, Rumplestiltskin had not actually said he wouldn't hurt anyone; he had said he wouldn't hurt Henry or hurt Regina more than was required to stop her. What Bae had not yet realized was that nothing short of death was likely to stop Regina's quest for revenge.

"It's not stupid," Rumplestiltskin repeated, trying to buy time. How could he possibly explain this? "You are everything to me, Bae. Seeing you hurt… it makes me very angry. I told you that I am a dangerous man to cross, and in the past I have not… responded well to you being hurt."

Bae didn't say anything to that. He didn't ask what Rumplestiltskin had done; he just looked away. It had to be the curse. Bae - his Bae - had wanted to know every detail of what his Papa had done. He wouldn't even accept his gifts without knowing where they came from. Rumplestiltskin had found it troublesome at the time, but now, seeing Bae so lost and frightened, he would give anything to have his brave, righteously angry Bae back.

"Bae, I'm so sorry."

"Sorry for what? You haven't done anything."

Oh, Bae, if you only knew. "I have, though. I won't," he added hastily, seeing Bae shake his head anxiously, "Tell you any of the details if you don't want me to, but I need you to understand that you are not imagining things. I think you remember, deep down, a time when I… was a very poor father to you. And there is nothing, nothing I regret more than that. I have been trying to be a better father to you now. I know that can't make up for what I've done, and I won't ask for forgiveness for what you can't remember, but I promise you, Bae, I promise, that I will be better. I'm not a hero-"

"You're my hero."

That stopped him cold. "What?"

Bae was looking at the bedspread, shoulders hunch in misery. "You're my hero. You found me. You saved me."

"I always will," Rumplestiltskin said fervently.

"Then don't say you're not a hero. You are. You're mine. You say you'll be better, and I believe you. I just… I get scared sometimes. I can't help it."

"Oh, Bae." He had no words. His boy thought him a hero. He never, never thought he'd have that again. Over the years, Rumplestiltskin had made himself forget how much he wanted that feeling back, knowing it could never be; but now that Bae had said it, he burned for it.

It couldn't last, of course; it wasn't even true. Bae had only been lost in the first place because Rumplestiltskin had failed him, and when the curse broke - if not sooner - Bae would realize that. And yet, even knowing that, Rumplestiltskin couldn't bring himself to force that day closer. He couldn't go out there and play the part of the town monster, knowing it would cost him this. He'd told himself - and Miss Swan - that there was nothing he would not do to ensure Bae's safety. He'd been wrong.

Rumplestiltskin, wretched, greedy coward that he was, couldn't sacrifice this for Emma's position as Sherriff. He just couldn't. Once again, but this time weighed down by guilt, he adjusted his plans.


The lanolin was put away. Instead, Rumplestiltskin began to pull strings. He gathered information and saw that it was distributed too. Soon the town was buzzing with rumors. The townsfolk were reminded of the incident with the apple tree and Miss Swan's heroic rescue of Henry and Hopper from the collapsed mine. They learned of her roadside rescue of Miss Boyd and her intervention with him for the babe (that tale, of course, quickly became even more exaggerated than the rest - let it never be said that the citizens of Storybrooke ever let the truth get in the way of a good story, especially when Mr. Gold was cast as the villain).

And information found its way to Emma too. There was very little in terms of actual crime in Storybrooke (beyond what was committed or engineered by Regina, of course), but what few troublemakers Regina allowed to carry on saw their names discreetly passed along to the acting Sheriff. By addressing those, she continued to build her reputation, and citizens began calling on her directly for help. By the time Rumplestiltskin summoned Emma to the shop, it was widely known in Storybrooke that if your husband was beating you or one of the barflies at the Rabbit Hole tried to follow you home (and it was no surprise, although a sickening reminder, that that the most troublesome of that lot was that vile sheriff who had tried to purchase Belle) Deputy Swan could be relied upon to quickly intercede of your behalf.

She'd even made contact with Judge Herman and strong-armed him into issuing a restraining order against the former guard who ill-used the maid Regina had 'given' him as a wife (as with the Huntsman, Rumplestiltskin gathered that this arrangement actually predated the curse - he hoped Regina found Emma's interference in the matter especially irritating). The girl was now safely ensconced with friends (also past servants of Regina's, including Snow White's former nurse) and Rumplestiltskin had taken special care in ensuring that there were eyes and ears on her husband. If the brute went after his wife, Emma would be alerted well in time to stop him, although by all accounts she had successfully put the fear of God into the man.

Rumplestiltskin looked up when he heard the bell over the door.

"Life I love you, all is groovy.*"

Emma gave him an odd look. He smiled sheepishly. "I'm sorry, Bae left that on when he went out for his run. I'll get it."

On Saturday morning, Bae had found a record player and a random pile of LPs in a corner of the shop. Recognizing what they were from Christmas, he'd asked to play some of them, and Rumplestiltskin had, of course, agreed. Bae had smiled more that morning than he had in days, and so Rumplestiltskin had started encouraging him to play them (and the ones at home) whenever he liked. For some reason, he kept coming back to this particular record.

Emma raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Your teenager listens to Simon & Garfunkel? And isn't he at school? It's the middle of the day."

"It's his favorite album - I've heard so often in the last few days, I apparently don't even hear it anymore. And Bae is homeschooled; which, contrary to the name, does not actually have to take place in the home. Right now, he's out for a run, as part of the PE requirement."

"Homeschool kids still have to do PE?"

"Indeed they do - in the state of Maine, at least."

"Huh. Anyway, you called the Sherriff's Department?"

He limped around the counter to face her. "I just wanted to express my condolences, really; the sheriff was a good man." He looked down. As he had expected, "You're still wearing the deputy's badge. He's been gone two weeks now, and I believe after two weeks of acting as Sheriff, the job becomes yours. You'll have to wear the real badge."

She looked discomfited. "Yeah, I guess. I'm just not in a hurry. So, uh, thank you for the kind words. Was there anything else?"

"Actually, yes. I have his things; he rented an apartment that I own. Another reason for my call, really, I wanted to offer you a keepsake," he said, retrieving the box of odds and ends.

On Sunday afternoon, Rumplestiltskin, Bae, and Mr. Dove (a man who had once been Rumplestiltskin 's messenger bird and was now employed by Mr. Gold for assistance with difficult rent collections and any other jobs that needed to be done quickly and with discretion) had packed up the Sheriff's things. The furnishings stayed with the apartment, but the food and toiletries had needed to be disposed of, and most of his clothing and household goods (what few there had been - even cursed, the man had been a minimalist) had been given to the thrift shop at the dump. However, Rumplestiltskin had set aside a few special items in preparation for this meeting.

"I don't need anything."

"As you wish. I'll give them to Mayor Mills. Seems like she was the closest thing he had to family." It was a low blow - and an obvious one - but when had that ever bothered him?

And it worked. "I'm not sure about that."

"No love lost there, I see."

"That can't surprise you, not after the favor you asked me."

"Indeed it doesn't. One reason I called you about this first, actually; I'd rather offer these to you than her. Really, I fear all of this stuff his headed directly for the trash bin; you really should take something. Look, his jacket?"

She shook her head. "No." Apparently, Miss Swan was not the sentimentalist that Rumplestiltskin himself was. Interesting.

"Oh, look!" He pulled out the walkie-talkies. He knew as soon as he had seen them that he should offer them to her as a means to communicate with Henry. Regina was overdue to interfere with them seeing each other, and he knew for certain by now that both the breaking of the curse and Henry's own safety relied on the boy being able to reach Emma.

"Your boy might like these, don't you think? You could play together!"

She still shook her head. "No, I don't-"

"No, please, they grow up so fast."

She dithered for a moment more, then took them. "Thanks."

"You enjoy these with your boy. Your time together is precious, you know. That's the thing about children - before you know it… you lose them." This was getting rather more personal than Rumplestiltskin would like, but Emma really did need a fire lit under her.

She gave him a searching look. "How long was he missing?"

"Too long." Anyone else would have thought he was playing games with that answer. She knew he wasn't.

"It's, OK, you know - you found him." Was she trying to comfort him? That was… unexpected. For a moment, he thought of Belle, and had to immediately remind himself who he was talking to and why.

"And Henry found you. The question is: how long will we be able to keep them?"

She narrowed her eyes. "I'm not giving up on Henry."

He smiled. "Good."


Regina smiled to herself as she walked to the sheriff's office. She'd given Miss Swan two weeks to get comfortable, and now she was looking forward to pulling the rug out from under her. Regina decided who enforced the law in this town, and it was not Emma Swan.

And she probably thought that she'd been doing so well, too. This past week, she'd taken in both Nottingham and Catton, and even harassed Herman for a restraining order against Catton. Did she honestly think Regina was going to let her get away with that? Not that Regina particularly cared that Catton be allowed to carry on - he'd been stupid enough to get caught, after all - but it had not been Miss Swan's place to interfere.

And then there were the rumors. She'd heard that the word 'hero' had been tossed around more than once, especially regarding that business with Miss Boyd's baby. It was absurd. Miss Swan was no hero; she was a criminal who had gotten knocked up and then abandoned her child. And now, now that Regina had taken care of Henry though all the most difficult parts of his life, she wanted to play at being his mother, as someone important. Her little charade was over, and as soon as Regina fired her and instated Sydney as Sherriff, she was going to address those rumors, and expose Miss Swan for the fraud she was.

Oh, I am going to enjoy this.


It had been a hell of a day.

And, apparently, it wasn't over yet.

Mangled toaster in hand, Emma answered the knock on at door. She had certainly not been expecting Mr. Gold and his son to be standing on the other side.

"Good evening, Miss Swan. Sorry for the intrusion - there's something I'd like to discuss with you."

She looked back at Mary Margaret, who looked conflicted. If it had only been Mr. Gold, Emma knew she would have hi-tailed it out of there in a second, but his son was another matter. Mr. Gold seemed to pick up on it immediately. "Where are my manners? This is my son, Bae. Bae, this is Miss Swan and Miss Blanchard."

"Uh, hi," Emma greeted dully, while Mary Margaret, who probably had an innate inability to be anything other than relentlessly cheerful around kids, was more enthusiastic.

"Nice to meet you!" she said, waving cheerfully.

Shyly, Bae waved back. "Hi."

"Uh, come on in," Emma said, wondering what the hell Gold was doing here with his kid in tow.

"Thank you," Mr. Gold replied, Bae trailing in after him. "Bae, why don't you show Miss Blanchard your drawings while I speak to Miss Swann?"

"Um…"

"Yes!" Clearly happy to have an excuse to get away from Gold without blowing off his son, Mary Margaret latched onto the idea like a hyperactive barnacle. "I would love to see your drawings! I can show you some of the ones my students have done!"

He still looked a bit hesitant, and Gold gave him an encouraging smile and waved him forward. "Go on, Bae."

And that, right there, was definitely up there with the wolf for the weirdest thing Emma had seen since she came to town.

"Um, OK."

"Great!" Bae then found himself swept up the stairs by Hurricane Mary Margaret, while Gold watched, still with that fond, dopey smile on his face.

There was no doubt about it - the town monster was a total marshmallow when it came to his kid. The second they disappeared into the office space upstairs, it was like flicking a switch - Gold was still smiling, but there was a sharp, predatory edge to it that Emma had noticed at their first meeting and every encounter since. She wasn't sure he was even aware of the change.

"I, ah, heard about what happened," he said, "Such an injustice."

"Yeah, well, what's done is done." She stalked over to the kitchen counter and abandoned the broken toaster there.

"Spoken like a true fighter." Sarcasm, just what I need.

"I don't know what chance I have. She's mayor, and I'm, well… me."

"Miss Swan, two people with a common goal can accomplish many things. Two people with a common enemy can accomplish even more. How would you like a benefactor?"

"Benefactor?"

"Would you mind?" He set the large binder he was carrying onto the table and sat. "You know, it really is quite shocking how few people study the town charter."

"The town charter?" Great, she was turning into a parrot. A grumpy, jaded parrot.

Gold didn't seem to notice - or perhaps he just didn't care. "It's quite comprehensive - and the mayor's authority?" He opened the binder. "Well, maybe she's not quite as powerful as she seems."

Now that got her interested. "What do you mean?"

"Well, Regina appears to be under the impression she can hire a new Sheriff at will; she can't. According to the town charter, she can only nominate a candidate. After a week, that candidate officially becomes Sheriff, but only if no one else puts their name forward. If someone does, there needs to be a vote. Simple majority wins." He smiled. "Don't you just love democracy?"

It was like a lifeline. Or a visit from the shadiest fairy godfather in the history of ever. Emma would have to be a complete idiot to trust it. "Let me read that."

He actually perked up at that, and pushed the binder forward. "By all means. Always a good idea to read the fine print."

"You'd know all about that, wouldn't you?"

She could tell that he knew just what she was referring to. He didn't look the least bit remorseful, but his answer was honest and without mockery. "Indeed I would."

Well, if he was going to be forthcoming, "You ever forget to?"

"Once," he replied, staring at her intensely, "To very ill effect."

Well.

Moving on.

She read it - it said exactly what he had said it did. "You think I have a shot?"

He smiled again. God, he was a creepy bastard. "Oh, yes. I never waste my time on losers, Miss Swan." Now, that I can believe.

"And you helping me, that's because of that favor I owe you, right?"

He nodded. "Oh, yes. Allow me to be frank," he said, folding his hands on the table. She nodded. "Sheriff Humbert was a good man, but he was beholden to Regina."

"Do you know what she had on him?"

"I do, although it is not my place to tell you; especially not now."

She frowned. "Could you have helped him?"

That seemed to catch him off guard. "He didn't ask me to."

"But could you have?"

"Only at the expense of others, and not for a while now," he answered carefully. Her superpower told her he was telling the truth, but not all of it. Hm. He continued. "Glass is an entirely different matter. He follows her willingly, and to be blunt, he is not a good man. He's not even competent; if he becomes Sheriff, all of Storybrooke will suffer for it."

"Except Regina."

He snorted. "Even Regina. She actually has a rather long history of making decisions that come back to bite her later - this would be another." That's interesting.

"What kind of decisions?"

"Well, trying to run you out of town, for one." He leaned forward conspiratorially. "Between you and me, your attack on her apple tree was inspired, and I am not the only one in town who thinks so."

Emma smirked. "Thanks, but it wasn't exactly something a Sheriff would do."

"Ah, but rescuing Ashley Boyd certainly was, and your little foray into the mines and your recent interventions with Mr. Nottingham and Mr. Catton as well. Believe me when I say that Mr. Glass would not even be capable of doing those things, even if Regina wished him to, which she does not."

"She just wants a lackey."

Gold nodded. "Exactly."

"So how exactly do you plan to help me?"

"By helping you navigate the legal and political issues involved, of course. I do not expect that this will be the last time Regina will claim to have powers the law does not afford her, and you can bet that election or no, she will be wielding her considerable political influence against you as well. She's fairly good at that this game, but fortunately for you, I'm better."

His smile was smug, but Emma didn't doubt for a minute that he could do what he was promising. And it was exactly the sort of help she needed - neither she nor Mary Margaret had any knowledge or pull with that sort of thing, nor did they know anyone who was in Regina's league, let alone Gold's. If she wanted to have any chance to stand against Regina, she needed this.

After a moment's hesitation, she extended her hand. "Deal."

Still smiling, he took it. "Once again, it will be a pleasure doing business with you, Miss Swan. If I may offer my first piece of advice, tap your roommate for help with your campaign. She doesn't travel in Regina's social circles, but she is well liked among the larger community."

Emma nodded. "Sounds good. Anything else?"

"For now, downplay your association with me. I am… not well liked among the larger community," he said ruefully, but without the slightest hint of regret.

"That's an understatement. For the stories I've heard about you, I'd expect to find a freezer full of bodies in your basement."

"Oh, no," he replied with a devilish smile, "Too obvious. I'm far too clever to leave evidence lying around like that."

Despite herself, Emma laughed. "Maybe you're not as bad as people say."

He froze. For a moment, his face was utterly blank, as if he wasn't even seeing her. Then he recovered, shaking his head with a smile. "Make no mistake, Miss Swan, I am much worse than that. But as I said, we share a common goal, and a common enemy - that counts for much. Now, what do you suppose I'm going to have to offer Miss Blanchard for custody of my son back?"

He was deflecting. She'd clearly touched on something big, but the man was entitled to his secrets, and honestly, by this point Emma just wanted a bowl of rocky road and to fall into bed.

"I don't know, look sad? She's kind of a sucker for that."

He actually snickered for a moment, but then simply called up the stairs. "Bae, Son, it's time to go!"

"OK!"

A minute later, Bae hurried down the stairs, a green sketchbook in his arms, and Mary Margaret on his heels. Whatever they had talked about had apparently put her at ease, as she managed to make eye contact with Gold and smile. Still, she addressed Bae - which, Emma noticed, did not seem to bother Gold at all (that dopey smile was back - honestly the guy was mush). "It was nice to meet you, Bae; thank you for showing me your art."

The kid was blushing. She must have been laying it on pretty thick. "It was nice to meet you, too, Miss Blanchard."

"Bae, I told you to call me Mary Margaret!"

"Very well, Mary Margaret." He turned to Emma. "And it was nice to meet you, Miss Swan."

"Um, you too." The kid's manners put hers to shame. Gold must be big on that sort of thing.

The man in question nodded to them both. "Have a good evening, Miss Swan, Miss Blanchard."

"Yeah, you too," Emma replied automatically. "Wait!"

"Yes?"

She looked at Bae, "I've got to ask - Simon & Garfunkel, is that really your favorite band?"

He looked confused. "Yes? Is that a problem?"

"Of course not!" Mary Margaret said, "I love Bridge Over Troubled Water!"

"Of course you do," Emma muttered. Gold looked amused.

"My favorite is the Boxer," Bae said. Gold twitched. Huh.

"How about yours?" Emma asked Gold. If they were going to be having this conversation, she might as well go all the way with it.

"Oh, I'm rather partial to the Sound of Silence myself."

"'Hello darkness, my old friend?'"

That damn smirk was back. "Indeed. Although if I had to pick a favorite song of the era, I'd have to go with Dylan's The Times They are A Changin'."

Well that was about as subtle as a brick. Still, Emma laughed.

It had been a hell of a day.


* Lyrics from The 59th Street Bridge Song (Feelin' Groovy) by Simon & Garfunkel