A note from Serade Black: I know that my timeline of events in the real world are inconsistent to canon of the show, but then again, this entire story is AU, so I ask that you just "go with it". Enjoy!

Ch. 7

"I've told you before, dearie, just come on in," Mr. Gold said opening his front door and stepping aside to allow Anna, Belle, to enter his home. The lair to the beast. As she entered the foyer, taking a few steps passed him, he added, "You are the only one I expect at this hour on a Sunday morning."

Though he loved opening the door to reveal a stunning angel standing before him in wavy brown locks, a slight smile and blue eyes the color of a clear day's sky, he felt foolish to have to greet her in such a routine manner every time. When she was there, he practically gave her the run of the house, allowing her to go anywhere she pleased and help herself to whatever she chose in the kitchen. It seemed like they were beyond simple pleasantries of a slight nod and polite smile, whereas he considered just telling her where he had a hidden key in the event his door was locked. But, she being who she was, she refused to let herself in, when it wasn't her home.

Giving him a sweet sincere smirk that eluded to a hint of mischief, she quipped, "I always have to knock to make sure." She spun around on her heel as light as a ballet dancer on air and allowed him to assist her with removing her coat. Once it slid off her slender arms, he hung it on an awaiting hook next to his own black wool coat, admiring the way the two articles complemented each other hanging side by side. Once freed of her coat, she spun around again, clapping her hands together and started to walk backwards to still see him. "Besides, what if you had company leaving first thing in the morning? Wouldn't want that to be awkward," she chided, grinning and offering him a fresh wink.

He heard the playfulness in her voice and ducked his head away to hide a warm blush in his own cheeks, but kept a calm and composed exterior as the sound of his cane clunked on the hard wood floor next to him. "No, dearie, you wouldn't be running into anyone like that," he said, following behind her.

The idea of keeping company in that fashion was not his style; he was a lonely man, but no longer a desperate one. There wasn't anyone in Storybrooke that turned his fancy or delighted his heart. So long as Anna, Belle, was not wearing a wedding ring, he would stay a celibate man with exceedingly high standards. Even if the scorching feeling of having your own heart ripped out and kept in a far off place, never to be held or whole again was the end result, Mr. Gold would weather the emotional storm.

"That so?" she charmed, disappearing into his library. Her loose waves flew around her shoulders as she glided around the room giving the illusion that she was weightless. Her voice was lighthearted, teasing like a sprite. "No special lady these days?"

"No, I'm afraid not," he drawled, keeping his eyes low to hide his honesty and keep his dignity. He did not wish to give off any impression to her either way. His minimal words made him acutely aware of the truths he was speaking.

Anna sensed his solemn thoughts, taking notice she had obviously put him in an uncomfortable sense of peace. His shoulders slumped, even from his normally proud stance it was She watched as his shoulders slumped, even from his normally proud stance, it was evident she had touched on something delicate. He balanced his weight forward, both hands on the top of his cane, his chin down and his eyes to the floor.

Feeling the need to comfort him, like she'd wanted to all along, she recognized the window of opportunity when it presented itself. She hugged the books she was handling close to her chest like a shield into battle and cautiously approached him, closing the distance between them. Mustering up that bravery from the other night, she swallowed the lump forming in her throat and licked her dry lips and proceeded to raise a hand and rest it gently against his chest.

Like a punch in the chest, he was breathless from the gentle gesture and pressure over his heart. He looked up and immediately his eyes locked with hers, creating a serene peaceful beam of confidence that was apparent neither one wanted to break. Their connection was ancient, mutual and familiar. Mr. Gold had no problem placing the time and place, but the puzzlement over her features was unmistakable.

Anna recovered quickly and refocused; her eyes back on him, rather than through him as if she'd been searching for answers from his soul. She lightly shook her head and continued, "Something tells me you're shielding yourself." Calming warmth radiated from him under her hand and she slowly slid her palm down his shirt, feeling the contours of his chest, not understanding the magnetism he suddenly wielded over her. She refocused again, baffled and conflicted, but fearless just the same to convey what she intended, "You have walls all around you. They do not need to be there."

Mr. Gold was captivated by her boldness and courage to test the boundaries, even if it was nothing more than the subtle gesture of physical comfort. He saw in her eyes the battle she was having from within; trying to decipher what it was that they shared. It was as if she was almost there, like she was remembering, like she was seeing their past together in his eyes, reaching for that small sliver of memory that refused to allow entrance into Pandora's Box of past lives.

His heart called to her, extending a metal limb for her to grasp onto, hoping that she would pull through to the other side, but it was still so uncertain. He wanted it to be her, he willed her courage to keep going and as a last resort, he threw caution to the wind and whispered, "Belle-". He clenched his teeth and bit his tongue, secreting chastising himself for speaking her true name aloud.

"Yes?" she answered, her eyes locked on his with an unbreakable gaze.

His heart nearly stopped, his blood chilled and he felt tightening in his stomach binding itself into knots. He held his breath, searching in her eyes for affirmation that she was there, that she was really there. He was weakening; her touch now burning into his chest like a branding iron and the last of his resolve was slowly slipping away. He chanced a touch and lifted a hand to rest over the one that was placed against his chest, thankfully, she did not flinch.

It had been only a flicker and as brief as it was, it was gone. Like mist evaporating into the air that surrounded them, any sort of recollection or inkling of a memory had vanished. She offered a slight grin, melting into the place she was before the enchantment. Her eyes warmed, but they weren't as transparent as they once were mere seconds ago. "What?" she asked with a self-conscious giggle. "You know my real name, Annabelle," she smiled wider now.

"Sorry?" he asked dazed, mentally unclear. He was trying to see what his heart wanted so very badly.

Their eyes were still locked, but as they were once connected, there was casual distance between them. Still, Anna, Belle, extended such a genuine softness towards him; it was an easy transition to revert back to the reality of the situation. "Very few know my real name," she finished quietly.

Mr. Gold finally forced himself to pull away from her, averting her eyes to the room around them. Once their connection had been broken, at least the impending magical one, he chanced a glance back to her and corrected himself, "Anna." Her true beauty, her pure heart, he was forever to be undeserving of her in whatever context in this world or the next. Still, he pressed on, his hand still placed gently over her own that remained against his chest. He slid his tongue over his lips before speaking to her, "I do have walls. After so many years of being a certain way, I doubt even you would be able to penetrate them."

Their gaze remained confident, exchanging friendly, cordial nods, politely squaring off. Regrettably, her hand was released and it retreated back to the books currently clutched against her chest. She lowered her eyes and turned back around to the necessary task at hand. Their mutual silence was accepted and he turned to leave her with her thoughts and the great task at hand.

"We will see about that," she said aloud, watching him pause only momentarily in the doorway to absorb her final words.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o 0

Thursday afternoon, Mr. Gold was a man alone with his thoughts. Sadly, a man alone with his only company being his own mind was not always the best company to keep. Like a hurricane of concerns, deals, rental improvements, property investments and Baelfire flew through his mind like a windstorm. Keeping quiet and composed, he had mastered the mask of a collected man very well. Like a fortress that was unable to be penetrated by the wickedest of foes, he remained hard as steel and strong like a well rooted tree. He was not easily taken down...unless it was her.

The little bell that hung over the door of his shop jingled, alerting him that he had a visitor. He took a moment away from polishing a tarnished brass chalice to offer a greeting. Once he met her eyes, something warm encompassed his heart, allowing the sensation flow through him freely. As if his old heart couldn't skip enough, his shop came alight with a beautiful energy that was true to her name.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Gold," she smiled, nodding her chin properly, as if their politeness was always an unnecessary rouse.

"Miss French," he nodded back, matching her. For a moment, he set down his rag and watched her; his elbows resting on the counter top. He had shed his suit jacket, revealing a dark red shirt with black tie; he wore matching sleeve garters high on his arms. He was acutely aware of how much he watched her, but lately she hadn't been bothered by it in the slightest. If anything, she often caught his glances and met him with a smile, nearly a flirtatious one, which quietly told him she otherwise didn't mind his eyes on her. In a subtle way, she almost invited it. Careful, man.

"And what is it today-" he began, but was quickly cut off with an erratic entrance by a panting breathless woman.

"Anna!" Mary Margaret said. Her hand against her chest as if she'd been sprinting down the sidewalk. "My goodness, you are quick!" Once she had the brunette's attention, Snow White smiled warmly first at her, then over towards Mr. Gold. It took her a few seconds to observe the interaction between the florist's daughter and the pawnshop broker. She looked at the flower in Anna's hand and then back to Mr. Gold, who had since resumed the mask of business owner, elbows off the counter. "I'm sorry, am I interrupting something?" Like watching a very short tennis match, her eyes flicked between the two, unprepared for the sincerity they seemed to share, if that's what it was.

"No, can I help you with something, Miss Blanchard?" Mr. Gold asked immediately, extinguishing any potential misconceptions. Smoldering cinders stoked his fire of irritation over the interruption, again, of his weekday brief encounter with the flower pruning moment. He valued every moment spent with Anna, Belle, that it made all other business with other townsfolk unnecessary. He would do whatever was in his power not to have her vacate his shop so quickly, if the business wasn't important.

Sensing Mr. Gold's urgency, Mary Margaret's mouth opened and closed as if meaning to say something, but otherwise just looked like a fish gasping for air. She knew he was a man not to steal time from, so she gave herself a mental shake and turned back to Anna, who was poised with a pair of sheers. She clipped away, a grin over her lips as she appeared as comfortable as if she worked there.

"Yes, sorry. Anna, I was trying to get your attention since you passed Granny's, but you were so quick to get down here," she said with a sweet genuine smile. "It's like you never even noticed me."

At the very same moment, Anna glanced over to Mr. Gold, finding that he also looked her way once her haste was mentioned. It was only seconds, but Anna was the first to look away back to Mary Margaret, feeling the heat of his stare almost too much to take in those brief moments. Anna tried to recover, "Yes, I must have been in another world. What's up?"

Meeting her with a smile, Mary Margaret continued, not noticing the exchange between the two of them. She handed over an ivory colored envelope with silver seal, "I'm having a holiday part and I wanted to give you your invitation. Bring Leo, it will be fun."

Lighting up, she set down her scissors to accept the invitation, "Thank you!" Mary Margaret twirled on her heel, light and airy, depicting the princess she truly was and walked over to Mr. Gold. Anna stayed standing by her flower, meeting his eyes across the shop and shaking her head wildly, mouthing the words, "No, I won't!" Mr. Gold ducked his head to avoid his smile being recognized.

The school teacher retrieved another envelope from the bag that hung over her shoulder and handed one over to him. She managed to catch his second subtle glance to the brunette behind her and tilted her head, curious about their private exchange. Very quietly, Mary Margaret leaned in and practically whispered, "I didn't know the two of you were friends."

Sensing those misconceptions, Mr. Gold was quick to quip, "Even I have my secrets, Miss Blanchard. I would think you, of all people, would appreciate their privacy." He politely took the extended envelope, nodded and thanked her.

Swallowing and licking her lips nervously, feeling slightly uncomfortable, Mary Margaret averted her eyes and asked, "So, will you come?"

He would otherwise rather pick snail entrails from the bottom of his boot than to feign politeness to an apartment full of those that owed him a debt. He wanted to say no, but as he glanced passed Mary Margaret to the beautiful beauty standing across his shop nodding in a very exaggerating manner, willing him what to say, he put on the most charming smile he could muster and replied, "Yes, I believe I will. Thank you, Miss Blanchard."

Feeling momentarily pleased, she smiled and spun around on her heel, eager to leave the awkwardness behind her. She bid Anna a good day, still curious what it was she had witnessed there in the shop and left in a blink. The little bell announcing her departure like the end of a scene from a play.

Once Anna and Mr. Gold were alone again, he waved his invitation in the air, grabbed his cane and limped to the otherwise of his counter saying, "Bah humbug." Anna then filled the silence with a small comfortable giggle.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

The moon was nearly full. Its light was enough to guide any roaming late night dweller down a sidewalk to the nearest bar, unless they were at Mary Margaret's for the evening.

At her annual holiday party, Mary Margaret's apartment was decorated with pretty white lights, a Christmas tree in white and blue decorations, a tasty variety of foods, pleasant music, wine and filled with familiar faces of Storybrooke. The energy for the evening was uplifting and enchanting. Smiles completed laughter that could be heard from all corners of the large apartment, glasses clinked their cheers and a few adventurous ones attempted to dance in the small sitting area devoid of coffee table.

Anna, however, was being bad. Anna was being very bad.

Before she went out for the night, she made a point to accidentally not tell Leo about the party. She even went so far as to tell her own father that Leo was sick, which is why she was attending the party alone without a date while dressed in a red off-shoulder knee's length dress, complete with silver and diamond necklace with matching earrings.

Sure, it was a small town and small town people talk, but a small gathering at Mary Margaret's was hardly the scene that would entertain her fiancé'. Leo was more of a keg stand, frat boy party-type where he and his friends would play beer pong into the late hours of the evening, rather than a calming classy party that played old Christmas songs, had delicious treats displayed in holiday decor and only had wine and egg nog, with some hot cocoa for the kids.

Anna stood as part of a trio with David and Ruby, discussing the town library and its potential re-opening. Both looked to Anna for the possible librarian position that was sure to be offered in the classifieds. As they droned on, discussing the potential remodeling of the old building that had remained closed up for as long as they could remember; Anna kept a watchful eye on the front door of the "cottage-like" apartment. Not all the guests had arrived and it was nearly nine o'clock.

As the minute hand passed one minute over the hour, she started to get a disturbing sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach that Mr. Gold wasn't coming. She steeled herself with a phony smile to David, agreeing with him blindly and trying not to let her outsides match her insides. Thinking herself foolish, like what she was even contemplating on doing was absolutely absurd; she probably needed some kind of mini-intervention to cease her imagination and their wild thoughts. Her silly school girl crush was getting out of hand if she went so far as to tell her own fiancé', the man she was going to marry, love and cherish, that she was just going out with the girls. It was completely ridiculous to even fathom the very notion...

The doorbell just rang.

Anna stilled as if she were a creature trying to blend in with its surroundings as her eyes immediately went to the front door. Her breath caught in her chest, unable to blink or breathe, she waited. Waited until the crooning voice of Bing Crosby and David Bowie filled any silence, unable to move a muscle until Mary Margaret went to the door.

"Hello Mr. Gold, glad you could come," Mary Margaret greeted, opening the door wider to reveal the most feared man in Storybrooke wearing his long wool coat and black leather gloves. With the hand not on his cane, he presented his hostess with a bottle of wine and they shared pleasantries as he was welcomed in.

Anna excused herself from her conversation between Ruby and David, to pass behind the stairs and pretend to be somewhat unseen. Very carefully, she peered behind a couple of guests to see him removing his gloves and coat, offering them to Mary Margaret's awaiting hands as she had returned to him holding a glass of wine. He nodded politely and took the offered glass once free of his things and tucked a hand casually into his pocket as he took the first sip.

If the wheels in her head could turn any more, there would have been smoke seeping out of her ears. Anna carefully timed her steps, making sure the coast was clear, before venturing under very dangerous territory. She peeked once, twice and then finally slowly moved out into the open, pacing herself carefully and slowly, making sure she had executed her plan precisely right. She feigned interest in the portraits that hung on the walls, making sure her back was turned all times towards the front door, but with a very subtle "pushing of the strand of hair behind her ear", she was able to peek behind her to see if he was looking.

A quick glance overhead, making sure her positioning was near perfect, and she found the confidence to slowly sip her champagne, believing that her efforts had to go noticed. However, as she scanned the room in front of her, she saw that she was being noticed, watched even, by a pair of mischievous eyes. Her eyes locked with Dr. Whale's and a silent exchange was made acknowledging the other. However, from the female end it was unwanted as she could only hope she would fall prey to the other beast, before he figured out that she was alone without Leo at the party.

Mr. Gold glanced at his watch as he arrived outside the building of Mary Margaret's apartment. He had dallied longer than he wanted at his shop that evening, updating a contract that involved an unwed mother and her unborn child. Something he believed having the upper hand in beneficial to him, however finding a home for the babe was another deal waiting to be dealt. It could wait a few more days.

He entered the festive, yet calming, apartment that was indeed as enchanting as the old Forest in the late evening back in their old land. He had accepted the glass of wine, forcing himself not to see it as a threat and to accept the spirit as a delightment, rather than a weapon from a foe. Of course, Mary Margaret was far from a foe in this land or the other: he helped her find true love. Regardless, his senses were on high alert without the necessity of liquid courage.

Mr. Gold scanned the room, appraising faces and regarding them when it came time for a defense strategy. But, though he felt he was always at odds with everyone, his eyes scanned the room truly for only one particular face; an angelic face. A face that he had long since committed to memory, having first believed that she was once dead, no longer of this world or their old one and remained nothing more than a regret and flicker of what could have been.

As he traced the room high and low, the wine meeting his lips as he was deep in concentration, they fell upon the elegant woman that pressed her lips to her glass like she were laying them on a delicate rose petal. He could only see her from behind, but occasionally was able to catch a glimpse of her profile as she'd tuck a hair behind her ear. Her chestnut hair was half swept up in combs, as the longer tendrils rested over one shoulder, baring the neck of her left. Soft creamy porcelain pale skin was exposed, as small straps came over her shoulders to make up the top bodice part of her shorter dress. It accented her curves nicely, fanning out at the waist, putting her slender calves on display. She swayed slowly, tilting her head from side to side, just absorbing the ambiance like a dreamer lost in their own imagination would.

Just across from her, on the other side of the island, Dr. Whale was just pushing off of the counter to approach the single standing girl that had no escort. Like an eagle swooping in for its prey, Mr. Gold hastened his step, cane and all, to protect the young princess from the mad scientist. With one glance, Dr. Whale conceded to Mr. Gold's gallantry to come to the lady's side in an effort to protect her virtue.

"Good evening, Miss French," she heard his smooth accented voice charm, quietly thanking that he had come to her rescue, before Dr. Whale had sought out her company.

Turning around to face him, offering a warm sincere smile, she greeted him with a particular giddiness in her voice, "Good evening, Mr. Gold. Merry Christmas!"

As if the Gods were shining down on him, allowing him this one little blessing of having the most angelic creature bestow upon him her grace and kindness, he might have had a change of heart towards the nuns. It took bravery to speak to her, counting his breaths and having all his senses at peak performance, he managed a polite, "Merry Christmas."

Batting her eyes and feeling her heart rate increase just slightly, she gave him an obvious once over, "I was beginning to think you were going to change your mind about attending this little soirée."

He looked away for a second, aware of her playfulness and hesitating to push forward, "Well, I didn't wish to disappoint."

"Don't worry, you didn't," she replied, being coy. He resisted biting her lip, she was so nervous.

Mr. Gold just barely heard what she said and dared a glance, "Miss French, might I be so bold to say that you look positively lovely this evening?"

As his words left his lips, he felt something pull within him. It was a connection to the young woman that he knew existed, but had never felt so strong before in this world. Could it be that they were finally acknowledging the attraction that they shared so many years ago? Could it be that some sort of hidden magic between them was slowly bubbling to the surface, breaking through these two faux lives they led?

At the compliment, Anna's cheeks blushed a beautiful hue of pink he had ever seen. She looked down, unable to meet his eyes and gave a barely audible whisper of thanks. Though she was beautiful and named after so, it appeared that neither Anna nor Belle was used to receiving compliments she so well deserved. Mr. Gold made a mental note to remedy that every opportunity he had.

"Well, I'm glad to see you here, Mr. Gold. Actually, I'm thrilled to see you anywhere out and about that are not your home or the pawnshop. I hate that you hole yourself up from the world, not venturing out as much as you should."

He let out a low chuckle, raising his glass to his lips and narrowed his eyes on her like a wolf to his prey, "Oh, I venture out, Miss French. It's just that I normally do it alone...at night...in the woods."

The storyteller was enchanting her once again and she couldn't resist his temptation, "Up to mysterious things in the dark forest, are we?"

"You have no idea, dearie," he replied with a twinkle in his eye that forced the shadow of a smile pass over her lips. Anna licked her lips nervously, her mind completely on the leafy green holiday piece that hung over them. "So, where is your precious fiancé' this evening? Is he around?"

Like having ice water poured down her back, her skin tingled and she was whirled out of her mental exploration in such a flurry he should have been slapped for bringing Leo up. Appearing a little embarrassed, she shook her head, "No, he's not here. Out with friends, I imagine. This really would not have been one of his things. It's more one of mine, rather than his."

As he was about to say something to her, he was immediately cut off with an alerting, "Hey Goldy!"

The slurring blonde whirl of waves and white cashmere that wore the deputy badge on all other nights was just approaching them and it appeared that she was in a very very good mood. Her voice was boisterous and assertive with a hint of playfulness. Her walk was mostly steady, but her wild flinging limbs told another story regarding her balance. Her eyes honed in on the most powerful man in town and she came at them with the determination of settling a disagreement. One of the flailing arms found their way around Mr. Gold's neck, where he immediately appeared uncomfortable and somewhat cautious, when she gave an innocent toothy grin as she leaned on him for balance.

"Did you know that you are smack dab under the mistletoe in my apartment? I have had about four of Mary Margaret's egg nogs and I have to admit that after that many, even you are starting to look like my type."

"Miss Swan," Mr. Gold started, offering his glass for Anna to hold, as he very carefully removed Emma's limb from his around his neck like a scarf.

"Hey, Goldy, you're the one standing in the wrong place. It's custom!" and before he could even prepare, Emma laid a kiss on him so hard, she nearly sucked his lips off. With a very loud "smack" and a few heads turning and snickering in their direction, Emma pulled away and said, "Well that was surprising!"

When Mr. Gold managed to free himself of the deputy, he glanced around to make sure no one else was coming his way and reached into his jacket pocket to pull out a handkerchief. With a flick of his wrist, the square opened and very politely, as if he'd just finished a meal, dabbed at his lips to clean himself of the slobber Emma left behind.

Anna, who proceeded to affix a permanent grin on her face, let out a wide open laugh with the scene the two had created. She took a step closer to him and offered him his wine glass back as if rewarding him like a true champ for taking one for the team. "Are you alright? Need another? Should I inquire on sessions with Dr. Hopper for you?"

Composing himself, he straightened his shoulders and gave an evil sneer upwards to the guilty mistletoe that hung innocently above him. He cleared his throat, took a sip and said, "That was very unusual."

Continuing to extend mental support over the ordeal he had just endured, she offered a quiet and meek, "Merry Christmas?"

He managed to find it difficult to abstain and hinted a smirk of his own, "Indeed."

When she caught his grin graduating into a smile, she admired the slight age lines around his mouth and eyes and couldn't help but believe they made him look so much more distinguished. They offered a boyish appeal to him and he couldn't appear any more handsome to her, even if he tried. A smaller frame than what she was normally attracted to, he provided a sense of equality and balance to her that she found absolutely stimulating that far outweighed physical attributes. Even as an engaged woman, she could at least extend herself as a friend and make a mental challenge of trying to make him smile more often in order to retain that boyish appeal.

The two shared a brief laugh, nodding to one another to be polite, when Mr. Gold remembered what he wanted to give her. He casually slid a hand into the pocket inside his jacket and pulled out an envelope and handed it her way.

"What's this?" she asked, perking up an eyebrow.

"It's a Christmas present," he replied, sipping from his glass and glancing to a few guests nearby. He certainly didn't need anyone else to witness his charity.

"But...why? No," she quickly corrected, shaking her head and attempting to hand back the envelope. He was quick to push it back to her. "But, Mr. Gold, I didn't get you-"

"I don't want anything, nor do I need anything, dearie," he replied simply. "This is my gift to you. For all your help with my library. You won't let me pay you-"

"I won't let you pay me, you're right," she was quick to interrupt; her heart pounding over the gesture. She knew that whatever was in that envelope was something she believed to be ungrateful for.

"So, I'm sneaking it in as a holiday gift," he insisted, pushing her hand away, allowing his fingers to briefly glide over the back of her hand in his refusal. "Therefore, you can not say no."

She tilted her head, biting the inside of her cheek and shaking her head, feeling completely undeserving. She couldn't be rude and reject the gift, so instead she very carefully opened the envelope to peer inside. Already believing that it was a check of some sort, she saw the long piece of paper inside, written in his handwriting, made out to her, in the amount of... "Holy shit! Mr. Gold, I cannot take this, it's too much!"

With a gentle shushing to her, afraid anyone would be eavesdropping on their conversation, he patted her wrist and insisted further, "Anna, please. It's for your wedding."

At those words, Anna froze as still as a statute. Her heart pounded quickly, thudding against her chest like a gong, reverberating against her bones. Suddenly, her throat felt dry and not wine nor water could quench her need, for it was a strong slap of reality that she was intended to marry Leo. His gift to her in a rather large sum of money was intended for the inevitable. The inevitable. The impending marriage to Leo. She was to marry Leo. She wasn't going to be allowed to pursue a friendship of potentially something more with Mr. Gold, even in her wildest fantasies. Leo and Mr. Gold were on two different ends of the spectrum entirely and she just stood there, frozen like an animal in the road meeting headlights, absorbing Mr. Gold's words: it's for your wedding.

Those words felt like lava in his throat as he forced them out. The inner pain he was feeling was like his own dagger going into his chest, carving out his heart and showing him the blackened remains of what was left. By handing her that check, it was like he was offering his blessing for his true love to marry someone other than him. The reality of this world still stood and though he did not retain any magic, the least he could do was try and make her happy with the power he did wield.

"On that special day, Anna," he choked, "you deserve to be treated and look like the princess you truly are." He swallowed hard, keeping down what was left of his pride.

Neither words nor emotions could speak what she was feeling down into her core. His gesture spoke volumes, his kindness to her was undeserving and his request to look like a princess melted her to a new form of puddle not even invented. He looked down at her, like a lithe knight in black Armani, grinning in such a sincere way it nearly made her break down in a fit of tears. Her newfound respect for him was overflowing with admiration that she wasn't quite sure how to thank him in the manner that would be deemed appropriate at their current state of friendship. Suddenly, the mistletoe that hung above them no longer seemed good enough.

Holding the mental white flag, indicating her defeat, her shoulders slumped and she let out a deep sigh. She clutched the envelope tighter and pressed it to her chest, showing him her utmost gratitude for the gift. She closed her eyes and mouthed the words, "Thank you." He didn't clearly say it, but she heard him say, "You're welcome."

Once it was clear that she was no longer attempting to give back the envelope, he prepared himself, again. "Now, there is more," he said softly, watching her eyes open slowly. "I want to give you something else," he raised a finger at the first whisper she was going to speak, immediately silencing her. He didn't touch her lips, but remained millimeters away, his finger poised. Her eyes pleaded with him not to be as generous with her, but her appeal was rejected. He took a deep breath and narrowed his eyes on her once more, "It's something I've never given anyone in Storybrooke, before." Anna furrowed her brow curiously, looking him up and down and then behind him to see that he wasn't hiding anything behind his back. "You have to promise not to give it to anyone else, though."

Her curiosity turned to worry, as if he doubted her about anything. As if he would believe that a gift from him, in addition to the rather large one he just handed to her, would be passed on to another; regifted as they say. Where had she gone wrong to put any suspicion or uncertainty in herself that she would even be teased with the notion? Had she said something? Had she done something wrong? Was she as undeserving as she insisted she was?

Her mouth gaped slightly open, baffled by his request that she managed only a quiet, "I promise."

Once he saw that he had her trust, he lowered his finger that had hushed her and took the smallest step forward to her. She stilled; her eyes wide and her heart open and thumping fiercely. She wanted to glance above them to the mistletoe, but she had no time. She didn't want to penetrate the gaze they held on each other, now only a few inches away. He was standing in her personal space; Anna looked up into his face seeing every crease, every age line, and every blink. Her hands clutched desperately to the envelope still held over her heart and she practically trembled like a frightened, albeit anxious, small animal. Eyes on his, she nearly never blinked and almost definitely forgot to breathe.

Mr. Gold leaned in, his lips just before hers and he watched her eyes close slowly. Did her lips just pucker? He bypassed her lips, swept across her cheek and whispered into her ear, "Robert." Anna's eyes flew open and she turned her head to better see him, saddened, but still elated. "It's my name," he explained, "Robert."

His name. He gave her his name.

She was speechless. Words were one thing, but knowing a name was power and it was something he had never given anyone else in Storybrooke. He was known to be a private person, a very private person and he was allowing her to step into his home, his world, and his mind with a single name. He was a man with many layers and she felt like one layer at a time was peeling away for her, trying to unveil the person that lay within.

Her eyes were on his intently, trying to read what was unspoken. He was just as quiet and still as she, barely moving away, sharing the same air that filled their lungs. His cologne permeated her senses, bewitching her. Her mind focused on the holiday decor just about their heads, they were so close, temptation a mere flutter as the two quietly came to the realization that it could happen. Feeing bold, Anna placed a hand against his chest, her fingers sliding over the silkiness of the tie he wore. She was connecting them, building a bridge into the inevitable that they were about to cross a certain kind of taboo.

"Hey, Anna!" a voice called to her from across the room like a fog horn at a football game.

As if they had been whisked away in a bubble to a dream-like world the consisted of only their imaginations, the pin prick of Leo's voice destroyed its existence. Her heart stopped and she put space between them again, like they were two moths to the flame about to get burned. Her eyes fluttered, clearing her mind and its path from the enchantment, wishing to vanish from the place she stood. Finally, her eyes squeezed shut, trying to remain the dream and not awaken to the nightmare. Trying desperately to rekindle the burn she savored beneath her skin, the surrounding noises of the party happening around them brought her out of her fog.

By opening her eyes, her dream had dissipated like mist. Her hand was still holding against his chest and as their world came crashing down, her hand slowly slid away as she turned to look towards the newly arrived. Her "beloved" stood near the front door of the apartment looking uncomfortably awkward and incredibly out of place like a gorilla at a wedding. He looked hesitant to step over the threshold, appearing like if he did, he would immediately turn into a stuffy yuppie with no sense of fun.

Leo took a big overdramatic step through the doorway, like he had just walked on hot coals barefoot, only to come out unscathed. Smiling for himself, he quickly started to scan the rest of the party for any other familiar faces he'd recognized. Once he had concluded a definite no, he called for Anna again as if he was shouting across a football field and it was impossible for her to hear or see him over the other guests.

"He found me," Anna said quietly, once her hand had slid all the way off of Mr. Gold's tie and jacket.

Mr. Gold's lips firmed to a thin line, disappointed that they had been interrupted in the moment they were obviously connecting in and it was all he could do not to snap the stem off his wine glass he was gripping it so tightly. He averted his eyes and just said, "He beckons." His tone was firm and annoyed, as if dismissing the company as easily one would a fly, but this fly seemed a bit more persistent.

Without so much as saying the actual words, it was evident that he was almost expecting that she choose. Choose between going with Leo, or keeping company with him. Of course, there was no denying the attraction she was secretly harboring for the older, much more refined, man. But, Anna had to be responsible and do the right thing; do the thing that was expected of her.

She looked back at Leo, the obnoxious thick-headed jock, then back to the well-dressed distinguished man with a gold handled cane that actually looked at her, not through her. There honestly was no contest to which she should choose, but her obligations could not be broken. So, with a deep strong regret in her heart, she bowed her head and started walking across the room to where Leo stood. After a few steps away from Mr. Gold, she already felt cold and uncomforted, like she had broken that connection they had done so well creating. She glanced back over her shoulder at him and he wasn't looking at her, but looking at the floor, his head hung low with a face of disappointment. A nervous knot settled inside of her and it was a mixture of conflict and allure, making her believe that she could be brave and that she could overstep her boundaries.

Another glance to Leo and she noticed he was preoccupied with the crumbs from whatever it was he had shoved into his mouth that had affixed themselves to his shirt and was diligently dusting them off. Realizing her opportunity, Anna quickly retreated the few steps she had taken away from the pawnbroker and closed in on his personal space; the fabric of her dress brushed over his hand that gripped the handle of his cane, alerting him of her brief return. She knew she only had seconds to act, so with an unnecessary glance over head to the mistletoe, she leaned in and whispered 'thank you' and left a kiss on his cheek.