Title: Friday's Dodger
Chapter : Stolen
Disclaimer: Just good ol' Rudy (whose name sounds a lot like Ruby and I didn't realize that later). Oh! And the chapter titles come from Dashboard Confessional songs because I'm a sap.
Author's Note: You guys are amazing. The few reviews I've received bring a smile to my face and make me want to keep writing to keep you guys happy. And Caro! You are wonderful! It means more than the world to have someone tell you that they love a character you've created. Thank you.
Henry and I are attempting to take the pups on a walk, but it's not exactly going as planned. They still have a bit of the puppy laziness, but the curiosity that they show everything they pass is infectious. Henry and I find ourselves stopping to inspect whatever they've found and following them off the beaten path on more occasions than one. I have never been out in this forest and it makes me a little uncomfortable. Is this the Enchanted Forest? Will we run into trolls or unicorns or giants out here?
Regina has explained a lot more of Storybrooke's history to me during our dinners together, but I'm still a little bewildered. It's been almost three weeks since she first broke the news and I can guarantee it will take a lot longer than that for any of this to make sense to me. It's not everyday a man is told his ex-girlfriend is the child of Snow White and Prince Charming. Even saying that sounds idiotic. My current girlfriend, the former Evil Queen, is raising the son of said ex-girlfriend and the kid's grandfather just happens to be Rumplestiltskin, also known as the mysterious Mr. Gold. Come on! None of that is logical. Maybe I really should schedule that evaluation with Dr. Hopper. But, if I did that, I would be having a meeting with Jiminy Fucking Cricket. I'm a fairy tale outcast.
"Do you love my mom?" Leave it to a child to get straight to the damn awkward point. "My mom mom, not Emma."
"Thanks for clarifying." And how to go about this? We come across a fallen tree and sit down, giving the pups some time to rest, which they take full advantage of. How do you explain the relationship process to a 12-year-old? It would be inappropriate of me to tell him of the sexual adventures, the history between Emma and myself, any discussions Regina and I have had... Oh! I'm a genius!
"You like fairy tales, right?"
"Duh." Snarky little boy.
"Right. So, in fairy tales, the hero and the princess see each other across the room and fall in love right then and there. The hero goes to slay a dragon or something to prove to the princess that he's brave and truly loves her and all that stuff, right?"
"Sometimes there are more things that are involved, but that's the basic premise, yes."
Geez, this kid is precocious. "All right. Well, in real life, it doesn't really work like that. There are steps that need to be taken first, you know? You've gotta meet the girl, get to know her, make sure she's not crazy or anything." I wink at Henry and add, "Make sure she's not an Evil Queen. But you can't just jump in and marry the first pretty girl you see. You have to know you're in love, kiddo. You don't assume you're in love. If you are, though, you'll know it."
He chews on that for a split second, not even long enough for it to register in his prepubescent brain. "So. Are you?"
"Am I what?"
"In love with my mom."
Apparently I'm not as much of a genius as I like to think I am. "I don't know yet."
"How do you not know?"
Does this kid listen? "I just... it's too soon. I don't know yet."
"But do you like her?"
"Yes."
"Do you like to spend time with her?"
"Of course I do, Henry, but that doesn't-"
"Do you dream about her?"
"Henry, I don't think-"
He lowers his voice conspiratorially. "Have you kissed?"
"Jesus, Henry." I slam a hand over his mouth to quiet him down and ruffle his hair with a chuckle. "Henry. I like your mom, I really do. Could it be love? Maybe. But I'm not going to assume it's love. I've done that before and it didn't end well. I want to be with your mom and make her happy, but I don't want to ruin anything by jumping in when she's not ready."
"Okay." He pauses for half a click. "Are you going to marry her?"
Fucking hell.
Eight weeks. I've been in this town for eight weeks. I've been in a psuedo-relationship with Regina for almost six. We've never really discussed it. We're comfortable with whatever is happening, and I think that's what matters at this point. I don't need a label or confirmation to make me feel better about anything. I'm a guy. We don't really care. I think we have mutually decided to be exclusive to each other, but other than that, she's still Regina and I'm still Rudy. She's not my "girlfriend" and I'm just still Rudy... or Dr. Phelan. It depends on whether or not she's angry.
All of the dogs have been adopted out, save for Friday and Dodger. Friday is obviously the Mills' dog and I took quite a liking to Dodger. He's the goofy one of the litter; clumsy, happy and full of love. Definitely my kind of dog. Plus, he has the biggest feet I've ever seen on a puppy.
As Dodger and I are relaxing on the couch following a day of intense surgeries, I hear a key turning in the lock on my door. With the fairly large puppy currently pinning me to the couch, the only thing within reach is my beer. So, hopefully Regina doesn't get offended if I don't greet her at the stairwell. When I hear the pitter patter of nails on the stairs instead of Regina's heels, Dodger uses my chest as a springboard to go meet his sister.
Click click click. There we go.
She looks stunning. Well, she always looks stunning, but she looks super stunning tonight. And she's not even dressed up fancy! She's still wearing the black pantsuit she wore to work. She looks happy, though, and that makes all the difference. She's glowing. Magically glowing. I shouldn't say magically, but Jesus Christ, there's a possibility there.
"Hey, babe." I sit up on the couch and give her a kiss as she sits down next to me. "Want a beer? Some wine?"
"Water would be nice, please."
My eyebrows shoot up. "Water? I hate wine. That wine is all for you. I got it fancy and everything."
"Water would be nice. Please." She gives me one of those Evil Queen glares and I stop arguing. She will be getting water like she asked. Yes, ma'am. I give her a glass of water and watch as she stretches out on the couch, the dogs making themselves comfy next to her. She looks at home here. That's definitely a wonderful visual.
"I've got a question for you, Dr. Phelan." Oh, God. She said Dr. Phelan. This is not going to be a good conversation. Not at all. Just when I was starting to get all mushy and lovesick, she goes back to hating me. How can I save this? Why am I freaking out?
"By all means, Madame Mayor, go right ahead." I crack open another beer and sit on the coffee table facing her. She places her hands on my thighs and this might not be the end of the world. She rakes her nails back and forth along the fabric of my pants and I swear to God she has reverted back to the Evil Queen right in front of me.
"How do you feel about condoms?" She gives me the most evil smirk I have ever seen and, so help me, it turns me the fuck on. She, of course, notices. And then proceeds to throw her glass of water in my face.
"You obviously don't enjoy using them," she states as she gets off the couch and goes to refill her glass.
"Are you gonna throw another one at me?" I follow her into the kitchen and wipe my face with one of the dish towels. When her glass is completely full, she turns around to face me and I may have just flinched. Instead, Regina takes a sip of water and sighs.
"Are you really not understanding what I'm saying?" she asks.
"Apparently not! It may be because I've got water in my ear. Thanks."
"Well, that's what you get for getting me pregnant, you asshole!"
I understand that. I understand that crystal clear. I understand that, yet I have no idea how to speak. Words. What are words. I need to say something, I understand that, as well. I understand the look that Regina is giving me that is slowly turning to anger. Then a flash of hurt and pain. Then back to indifference. I understand when she begins to walk away without Friday. I understand when her puppy cries after her. I understand when hours pass by and the only thing I just barely notice is that the puppies have pissed on the floor of my living room. I understand that it is now morning and I have yet to move from the kitchen.
I understand that I may have just royally fucked up.
"Oh, Dr. Phelan, Madame Mayor isn't accepting visitors at this time."
I barge past Regina's secretary and push my way through her office door. Regina doesn't even look up. I'm not sure what I'm expecting. (This is where I could insert a corny pun about knowing what she's expecting). Rather than acknowledge my entrance, she picks up her office phone and dials a few numbers. I watch her from across the room and I can see her growing more and more frustrated whenever whomever she's calling doesn't pick up. She winds up slamming the phone down with a noise of irritation.
"You should be working, Dr. Phelan."
"I shut down the practice today," I admit. "I'm the boss. I can do that."
"Good for you," she says sarcastically. "In any case, I should be working. Please show yourself out."
"Regina, come on. Give me two minutes."
"I do not have two minutes to spare." She finally meets my eyes. "Being a single mother takes a lot of preparation. Good thing I already have experience."
I see it then. The pure agony behind her stony mask. She thinks she has to do this alone, like she did with Henry. In her mind, I'll show up when convenient, or when the kid wants to meet its father. Then, I'll steal him or her away, the way she feels Emma did with Henry. That thought makes me feel lower than low. Why would she ever think I would do that? For a split second, I hear a tiny voice in the back of my head. Because she doesn't know. Why does that voice sound like Henry?
It hits me. Square in the chest. I know.
Nothing else matters in that moment. Not her anger, not the ringing phones, not the sudden lightheadedness brought about by sheer adrenaline. I march behind her desk and spin her around in her executive's chair, blocking her in with my arms, and I kiss her harder than I've ever kissed anyone in my life. I try to convey everything through my lips; all of my feelings, frustrations, fears. Everything. She tries to pull away at first, but her hands find the lapels of my jacket and she holds on for dear life, pulling me closer until I nearly tumble into her lap.
We are finally forced to part in order to breathe, but we don't say anything. We don't need to. Scratch that. I need to say something.
"I love you," I let out in a whisper. "I am in love with you. I know it. I need you to know it, too."
"I know."
"Good. Well." I stand up and straighten my coat, uncertain where to go next. "Glad we got that settled."
"Yes."
"So, what's next?"
"I have a doctor's appointment tomorrow morning."
"Okay. Well, do you want me to come with you?"
Regina looks surprised at my offer. "Yes. That would… that would be nice."
"Cool. Okay. I can do that. Did you still wanna go to Snow's for the potluck?" Calling her Snow just flowed a hell of a lot better than Mary Margaret. And calling her "M&M" is weird. It gets too many songs stuck in my head.
"Yes. I told her you would bring beer and I would bring apple pie and ice cream."
"We're the best couple ever."
She smiles at that. "I agree. Now let me do my work."
Rather than leave, I make myself comfortable in one of the guest chairs, fiddling around with my phone. I pull up an addicting game I've recently downloaded, the frustration of my own OCD making it damn near difficult to play it quietly. Every few minutes, a muttered curse escapes my lips. I glance up to make sure I'm not disrupting Regina, but I find her to be smiling at me. I get lost there for a second until someone clears their throat.
That bastard is gonna get an earful for interrupting that. Ah, Mr. Gold. Mysterious Mr. Gold. Rumple-fucking-stiltskin. This is only the second time I've seen him since I've arrived in Storybrooke. There's something fishy about him. He seems… greasy.
"Ms. Mills, do you have a moment to spare?" I've got to hand it to him, though. He's got a suave accent.
"What do you need, Mr. Gold?"
"A moment…" He glances over to where I continue cursing at my phone. "Of privacy, if it pleases you."
"It would please me that Dr. Phelan remain here," Regina throws back with a venomous undertone. "Unless it is of dire importance that whatever 'business negotiations' you must discuss require privacy, then I would rather Dr. Phelan be present. He was here first."
"I would prefer a few minutes alone, Ms. Mills. No offense to your guest, but this is urgent."
I could tell Regina is going to argue with him until the cows come home, so I close up my phone game and exit her office. I don't go far, just to wait outside in the lobby, but once Mr. Gold closes that door, I start to get antsy. There's something not right about that guy. He gives off a slimy kind of vibe, but he seems to control the town. It looks like even Regina can't get past his power.
Carol, Regina's assistant, gives me a sympathetic smile as I sit down in front of her. She's a sweet lady. Kind of like the angel on Granny's shoulder. I would not hesitate to go over to her house for some freshly baked cookies and stories about the "good ol' days."
After a few minutes, I can hear the muffled sound of raised voices coming from Regina's office. Part of me wants to burst in like a hero, but the rational part of me knows that it's not my place. But, damn, I can daydream! I hear the door creak open, just enough to let the voices float out.
"You cannot be serious, Mr. Gold."
"Oh, I assure you, I am very serious."
"So that's what this is about? His father outsmarted you, so you're getting your revenge? How sweet it must be knowing that you have brought the son of your mortal enemy happiness."
"Is that what you believe?" I can hear his tittering laughter. "Sweet, foolish girl. Please, enjoy it while it lasts."
I watch him strut out of her office, sending me a shit-eating grin as he returns from wherever the hell he came from. That man's not right. There is something really fucking strange going on.
