Disclaimer: I do not own Once or anything related to it. ABC owns it.
A/N: Hello, everybody! Here's a new chapter to tide you all over until Sunday. (-;
Chapter Nine
Mary Margaret was thankful to have the day off for the Miner's Day Festival, especially since it meant she could sleep in a little and catch up on some much needed rest. The dreams came and went, but always they remained the same. A mysterious man in the shadows, just out of reach.
"One hot chocolate with extra cream and plenty of cinnamon on top," Ruby recited as she set the steaming cup in front of Mary Margaret, red lips stretched into a smile.
"Thank you, Ruby," she replied, burning her tongue as she took a quick sip of the chocolatey mixture. Ruby leaned on the bar and tossed her silky black hair over her shoulder.
"So, how's the promiscuous life treating you?" Ruby's eyebrows arched and a suggestive glimmer shone in her wide eyes. Mary Margaret shrugged and pictured the chipped red paint on the windows of her car, the word "tramp" still legible.
"Everyone seems content to ignore me now," she answered softly. Being invisible was much better than hearing bitter insults deliberately whispered behind your back. Ruby offered her a look of sympathy.
"Well, at least you're looking better than she is," Ruby pointed in the direction of one of the nuns sitting in a corner booth.
Mary Margaret recognized her immediately-it was Astrid, the red-headed nun most notorious for her clumsiness and mistakes. At the moment, she was talking to Leroy and appearing quite depressed.
"What's wrong? Is she okay?" Mary Margaret knew Ruby was the town gossip.
Ruby checked over her shoulder before dipping her head close to Mary Margaret, the juicy secrets practically foaming on her mouth.
"Word is she ran the nuns out of all their money. Totally blew it. And they owe rent to Mr. Gold this week," she whispered, spitting out Mr. Gold's name as if it had a foul taste.
Mary Margaret observed Astrid with pity; the girl was clearly beating herself up badly. Not unlike Mary Margaret herself when the town turned on her.
"When is the money due?" Maybe there was still hope for Astrid to fix her mistake. Ruby eyed her with a solemn expression, lips thinning slightly.
"Today." Mary Margaret felt a stone drop into her stomach.
"Today?" She repeated with disbelief, voice rising shrilly. Oh, the poor girl, she thought sadly. Today of all days. Ruby nodded enthusiastically, red-streaked hair flying about.
"Yep. Today. And we all know what happens when Mr. Gold doesn't get his money." Ruby theatrically dragged a nail across her throat. Mr. Gold never accepted late payment. Suddenly, Ruby chippered up. "Speaking of Storybrooke's virtual Godfather, how's your new job?"
"It's...not that bad," Mary Margaret insisted, as she had with Emma.
Ruby shot her a no-nonsense look that suggested she didn't believe her. Mockingly, Ruby pressed a hand to Mary Margaret's forehead, insinuating she must be ill.
"I'm serious, Red. I don't think this is the worst job in the world." Mary Margaret swept the strands of her black hair back in place while Ruby stared at her like she was senile.
"You'd be the first." Ruby strode off, digging a notepad from her tight red uniform. There was a groan of the polyester stool beside her and Mary Margaret turned to see Leroy leering at her.
"Hey, sister," he acknowledged her in a gruff voice. "You still volunteering for the fesitval?" Ruby placed an alcoholic drink in front of Leroy-his usual. Only Leroy drank before eleven in the morning.
"Yes, I am," she responded flatly. Mary Margaret had signed on to sell candles at the festival and now she knew the nuns needed all the help they could get. Leroy swallowed his drink in one go, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
"So am I," he announced, taking her by surprise. She was nearly struck speechless by his sudden act of charity.
"Leroy...you're going to sell candles? I mean, that's great news, but..." Leroy spun on his stool, glaring meanly at her.
"What? You don't think a guy like me can pull this off? Think again." If Mary Margaret didn't know any better, she'd have said that Leroy was grumpier than usual.
"Wonderful. That's good to hear," she praised him, patting him lightly on the arm. Leroy narrowed his glazed eyes at her hand and she awkwardly withdrew it.
Emptying her mug, she started for the exit. The diner's loud, gossip-ridden atmosphere was getting to her.
"Sister." Leroy called her back, a new determination in his smarmy face. "You work for the gimp, am I right?" Mary Maragret blushed when she realized he meant Mr. Gold. It was such a rude thing to say, even if Mr. Gold wasn't entirely popular around town.
"Yes, I've recently started working for Mr. Gold," she pronounced his name with emphasis to prove a point, but Leroy simply rolled his eyes.
"What say you try to reason with him? Get him to lay off the nuns?" Mary Margaret knew in her heart that nothing she said to Mr. Gold would change his mind. Leroy knew it, too, but perhaps it wouldn't hurt to try.
"Leroy, I don't think it will matter," she advised him, but he threw his head back and scoffed.
"Come on, they're nuns! Who doesn't like nuns?" Mary Margaret shrugged. He certainly seems to like me, she thought positively, but then again she wasn't a nun.
"I'll try my best. Maybe something good will come out of it," she agreed, much to Leroy's satisfaction.
Mary Margaret wasn't foolish enough to promise him anything, for she was sure this was one promise that would be impossible to keep.
...
The bell chimed in her ears like a silvery, musical note. Even on her day off, she was here, standing in the pawn shop with all its untold mysteries not excluding its owner.
Mr. Gold was standing near the register and he glanced up as she approached him. If he was surprised to see her there, he didn't give any notice of it.
"Ah, Ms. Blanchard. To what do I owe the pleasure of your company on your day off?" Mr. Gold abruptly shoved the till of the register closed, the sharp metallic sound making Mary Margaret jump slightly. She hoped he hadn't noticed. There was an amused gleam in his dark eyes-he'd noticed.
"I heard the nuns' rent payment is due today," she started, gazing down at her shoes. It felt much like the day she asked him for a job; she was the small, spooked mouse and he was the looming, cunning snake.
"That it is. I appreciate your reminder." Mary Margaret understood that he was mocking her. He hadn't forgotten that one business matter. Not at all.
"They've run into some financial problems recently. I was hoping you could-"
"You were hoping I'd extend their deadline for payment," he deduced, voice cold and hard as ice. Mary Margaret never expected him to be accommodating. She had just...hoped. Hope, in Storybrooke, was a fragile thread that was easily severed. "I could do that, Ms. Blanchard."
Mary Margaret's heart shifted and maybe even missed a beat altogether. See? See what a little hope can do?
"Great. The nuns will be so happy to hear-"
"But I won't," his soft-spoken voice silenced her own, bringing her feet to a halt halfway to the door. That was when she realized her mistake. Her green eyes revealed her disappointment like a mirror.
"I'm sorry...I thought you'd said..." Mr. Gold held up a hand to stop her, commanding her attention.
"You misunderstood me, I'm afraid. Of course I could be lenient and accept their late payment...but I refuse to do just that."
"But...why?" Mary Margaret protested, lip trembling.
How could this man be so unforgiving to a helpless group of nuns? How could he be so cold, so unmoving as to force their imminent departure from Storybrooke?
Mr. Gold's collected, stony gaze did not falter.
"Do you still think I am not a monster, Ms. Blanchard?" Mary Margaret did not answer; her silence spoke volumes. "It's quite simple, really. My agreements are always honored."
Something there struck a chord inside her. That last line had been enforced greatly.
Then it hit her.
That phrase was meant for her benefit, as a type of warning. A favor will do, I think.
Her favor. What would he require of her? What would he do if she refused to oblige by the rules of her favor? The full impact of it crushed her heart. What have I done?
Mary Margaret nodded bleakly, a feeling of falling wrapping around her. Somehow, her feet carried her to the door, her mind spinning with anxiety. Mr. Gold's words clung to her like a cloak she was unable to shed.
My agreements are always honored. Do you still think I'm not a monster?
Mary Margaret had always been determined to find the humanity in everyone. The beast always turned out to be a wonderful prince in the fairy tales.
But what if the beast...was really just a beast?
...
What did you think of that? A nice little scene will be coming up in the next chapter for these two-I actually already have it written up.
Right now, I want to thank my reviewers! Here's to DCdreamer55, Back of a Truck, The Narnian Phantom Stallion, and night animal. Your reviews were awesome! (-;
Until next time, guys!
