AN: super sleepy late night writing yay. Probably has flaws. Too tired to care. Woop, here a short something.


The bell over the shop door let out a pleasant little ring as the customer entered. He'd never been in this shop. He had no good reason to be and every good reason not to be, even when they had all been under the effects of the first curse. To say he was nervous would be a bit of an understatement, but he pushed it down. Belle was at the front of the shop, up on a step ladder to put some merchandise away.

"I'll be with you in a moment." She called over her shoulder.

"Oh no rush." Archie was admittedly glad to be speaking with Mrs. Gold first, smiling to himself as he remembered marrying the two. Despite how small the wedding had been, the fact that they could have a happy ending all the same, despite everything, could give hope to anyone.

"Oh, Archie!" she was quick to come down the ladder and return the smile, greeting him with a small hug which he was all too happy to return.

"How have you been?"

"Oh, well enough." The lie came perhaps a bit too easily off his lips, not wanting to spoil an otherwise pleasant mood.

"How is life as Mrs. Gold?" a flush girlish flush found her cheeks,

"We couldn't be happier."

"That's wonderful." These were the kinds of interactions he had missed in the last week, when he'd been avoiding people in partial fear of what might happen to them. He wanted to talk to people. He wanted to greet them in the mornings and see their smiling faces.

"Oh, is there something I can help you with? We don't see you here often."

"No, we certainly don't." Mr. Gold, stepping out into the main shop from the back. He spared a smile, despite being known for not having the cheeriest outlook. Perhaps marriage could have such an effect on even him.

"Actually, I was hoping you might have some time to talk. I've come across a piece of information, but I can't seem to find anything more on it. I was hoping one of you might know something?" Belle answered first, her face immediately scrunching into concentration.

"Um, sure. I mean, I could take a look." She glanced back hopeful to her husband, who seemed less interested but afforded his wife a smile and nod.

"I must confess to being curious." For just a moment, he sounded to Archie like the old Gold. Like Rumples had in the other land. It was just his mind playing tricks on him, he reminded himself. Things were different now. He was different.

"Well I found this, I know the stories in this land can be…inaccurate." He unfolded the copy of Jabberwocky and handed it over.

"Oh, I know this book. Though I can't say I know much about Wonderland." She glanced to her husband instead, handing him the poem.

"Didn't you mention it once?"

"Oh Wonderland was a very real place," he confirmed, turning over the poem, "but I'm afraid I can't help you. Never been there myself." He held it out to be reclaimed by a disappointed cricket.

"Oh. That's quite alright. No harm in asking" he hoped.

"I'm sorry we couldn't be of much help."

"If you ever find yourself in need of a gift or souvenir…" Mr. Gold added.

"I'll be sure to stop by. Thanks for your time." He gave another smile and tucked the poem away into his wallet as he returned home. No luck. If Gold or Belle didn't know anything, he doubted anyone else would. And he couldn't exactly say more than it was a passing fancy. He was so wrapped up in his thoughts, he didn't notice the other man walking until he collided with him.

"Oy! Watch where you're going!"

"Oh, sorry." Wait, didn't he know that man? He had seen him looking a bit worse for wear not long ago. He glanced back at him but he was already hurrying away. No matter. Archie wouldn't notice his wallet was missing until he reached home, and the thief was long gone.


"I've been expecting you, deary."

"Have you?" the dark voice seeped out from the shadows and ran along his skin, but he wasn't bothered. He sent Belle home early, he was staying to close the shop for the evening.

"Ever since a certain cricket came in with poem in your name." the laughter which echoed through the shop was sharp enough that he had genuine concern for the glass display case and fineries.

"If you break it you buy it." The laughter stopped. Out stepped an imposing figure are least two heads taller than himself, though it was dressed (much as himself) in professional enough attire. A gray woman's suit-skirt that did little to hide the truth in her eyes.

"Well, if it isn't the legendary Jabberwocky."

"Dark One." He gave a little flourish of a bow, that was still only half of what it had been in the Enchanted Forest and lacked that signature giggle.

"In the flesh."

"But not the flesh I encountered." She was circling around him now, he refused to be intimidated, "Same energy, different body."

"Yes, well, the old one retired."

"Retired? I see." She drifted to the glass counter, talons rapping across the top in swift successions breifly.

"What brings you to our fine town of Storybrooke?"

"Wonderland grew tiresome. I needed fresh scenery."

"So you don't have any plans for your visit?" her gaze flicked back over to him. He was fishing.

"Nothing which would need to cause you concern."

"Ah, see that's where I'm not so certain. You see, I do have plans for this town. And from what I've heard about you, you're not known for playing so well with others." Despite his accusation, the Jabberwocky gave a smile.

"And what, pray tell, have you heard about me? You do know how old those legends are, don't you?"

"Yes, but many legends hold grains of truth." She didn't dignify that with an answer, head turning away to examine all the nick knacks instead.

"I have no interest in getting in your way, so long as you return the favor. One monster to another." He opened his mouth to argue the title, but a swift stern gaze made him reconsider. It was pointless to lie to her.

"Well then, welcome to Storybrooke. If you find yourself in need of residence, you're looking at the land owner of most deeds in town."

"That's quite alright, though the offer is appreciated. Actually, you have something I want." His interest was immediately peaked.

"Oh, so it's a shopping trip then? I notice you lack pockets. You do know this world's exchange rate-"

"The pieces of paper, yes. Worthless. I understand you prefer favors."

"From the right people, yes. Just what is it you were interested in?" he blinked, and she was holding in her arms the two old puppets who had once been people.

"These." The significance of the earlier visit, in combination with this request, wasn't lost on him.

"Just what game are you playing with our residential therapist?"

"That's my business."

"And far be it from me to pry. One favor, of my choosing, from the Jabberwocky?" she gave a nod, and it was enough for him, for the two souvenirs collecting dust. He couldn't ask for a better exchange rate.

"We have ourselves a deal."