Darlings, I'm baaaaack! Sorry for the delay. I've been squeezing in writing between work and life and it's a trick as you know. Thank you for the lovely reviews, they keep me motivated in this sad Cruella-less world of OAUT :( Enjoy!
Storybrooke
15 Years Later…
Henry cradled the satchel of August W. Booth in both hands as he ran up the stairs of Regina's house. His mother failed to uncover anything in the assortment of papers, but her disappointment only strengthened Henry's determination to help her find her happy ending. Henry dumped the contents of August's satchel on his bed. With meticulous consideration he unlatched each strap, unbuttoned each pocket, and scoured every last inch of the leather case.
In one swoop Henry lifted the satchel and turned it upside down. All kinds of papers, loose change, pens, gum packets and various other items fell from the case and onto the bed. Henry smiled. The random items to his eyes looked like a treasure trove of magic mysteries just waiting to be unlocked.
Henry decided to properly catalogue everything that came out of the satchel. He turned from the bed and grabbed a notebook and pencil from the nightstand. As he did so, Henry failed to notice that he knocked a folded piece of paper to the floor. When he returned to the bed his shoe kicked the page under the bed. Henry began documenting, unaware that a piece of the storybook rested at the tips of his toes.
Regina strolled down main street. Her gloved hands were tucked into the pockets of her black coat. Her air brushed over her shoulders as assured steps carried her forward. She lifted her chin as she looked across the street at the familiar store fronts. Storybrooke. Her creation.
Her heart swelled with contentment. She watched Granny change out the letters on the sign in front of her restaurant. Several dwarves passed by with axes slung over hefty shoulders.
Regina turned her attention to the approaching pedestrian. The Blue Fairy inclined her head and Regina returned the greeting. Dr. Hopper crossed the street. Pongo pulled on the leash, but Hopper kept the dog closer than usual. Regina knew why. After an unexpected absence Cruella De Vil was back.
"You're looking pleased with yourself."
Regina stopped and squared her shoulders.
"It's good to be Mayor."
Hopper smiled.
"It's good to see you this way."
Regina gestured and Hopper passed in front of her on his way to his office. The air filled with a hint of salt and Regina inhaled. She continued on her walk. Her phone vibrated in her pocket next to her fingers. She pulled out the device.
Come quick. Code red.
The text was from Mary Margaret. Regina smirked.
"Code red?" She asked herself with a scoff as her fingers swept over the keys.
Busy running the town. Will talk later.
She went to put her phone back in her pocket but another text came through. An irritated gasp passed over her lips.
No, now. It's important.
Regina rolled her eyes. She texted Mary Margaret and then changed the direction of her walk. Though the two of them had come far in their relationship part of Regina resented being at the beckon call of the Princess.
She made her mood known as she stepped into the Charming's apartment.
"What the hell is the big emergency?"
She closed the door with more force than necessary. The family huddled together, grouped around the dining table. David sat with his arms folded. Emma had her hands splayed out flat on the counter and Mary Margaret leaned against the wall. The expression on each face said volumes. Regina sighed.
"Alright, which monster, witch or curse is it this time."
Emma looked up.
"Witch."
Regina took off her coat and folded it across the back of the chair at the table. Rather than sit she stood next to Mary Margaret.
"Snow just got a call from Doc," David said.
"So a dwarf knows how to use a phone. That's news these days?" Regina shifted her wait to one leg and folded her arms. She did not sit because she wanted to make a quick exit.
"Doc told me that Cruella just bought the Harrell mansion on the outskirts of town."
Regina gave up on her quick exit and slumped into the chair.
"So she's staying." The finality Regina heard in her own voice seemed to give weight to the air inside the room. Silence ensued for several moments.
"What do you think?" David asked. He looked to Snow.
Regina could tell the three of them already spent some time hashing out the situation. She decided to add her opinion to the mix.
"I think she's a dangerous psychopath. Letting her stay is asking for trouble."
Snow pursed her lips.
"What do you suggest? We can't just run her out of town with pitch forks."
Regina narrowed her eyes at Snow.
"Minus the pitch forks, not a bad idea."
Snow gave Regina a scolding look. Emma straightened her posture.
"She wants to stay. We have to give her a chance." Emma swallowed. "She can't hurt anybody, and the whole town knows it."
Regina picked her next words carefully. She knew Cruella's death still hit a nerve with Emma so she proceeded with caution.
"She might not be able to take a life, but she can still hurt people."
Snow's eyes grew wide.
"What?" Regina asked.
"I just thought you of all people would take her side. I mean, there was a time we all thought you were a psychopath."
The comment did not rile Regina as it might have years ago. Instead, she took the truth in stride and considered Snow's point.
"Yes, and I know what darkness looks like-"
"We both do," Emma interrupted. Regina inclined her head at Emma and continued.
"The woman's happy ending is murder. She's too far gone to save," Regina said.
Snow shook her head.
"I refused to believe you were too far gone, even after you slaughtered an entire village."
Regina averted her eyes. In her heart she knew a lifetime of good deeds could not undo that single act of evil. For her own sanity she refused to dwell on her past misdeeds.
"Can we really condemn Cruella? Don't we owe her a chance?"
Emma blinked as if surprised by Snow's attitude. Regina found it typical and felt a little warm inside. Whether the warmth was anger or comfort in the unrelenting faith of the princess Regina could not tell.
"I agree with mom."
The look of joy on Snow's face seemed like light up Emma's features as well.
"Fine," Regina stood up, "but don't say I didn't warn you."
She walked to the door and turned.
"Now, I have to go before all this hero talk makes me relapse just to shut you all up."
The wind whipped around August's face. He sped down the quite country road on his motorcycle. Crisp air filled his lungs and even over the rumble of the engine he heard birds chirping in the distance. For the first time in years he felt at peace. He was reunited with his papa and back in Storybrooke where he belonged. Emma was once again his friend, and despite the presence of Captain Hook, August hoped the friendship might evolve into something more. He felt a connection with Emma, even during her time of disbelief, and he knew she felt it too.
August had been there for her in ways Hook did not understand. He hoped the fair maiden would eventually come to him. He could wait. She was worth it.
The motorcycle rounded the corner and he saw it.
Not just any car. The car. Her car.
It was pulled off the side of the road. As August passed he saw smoke coming from the engine. The car's owner threw down her cell phone. The device broke into pieces on the pavement.
August shook his head. No wonder the car broke down with the way she drove the thing. Even as he passed, August felt a pang of guilt. Any other woman in distress and he would have stopped. Cruella De Vil was not worth a second thought. Cruella De Vil deserved no rescue.
August turned the corner. Once out of sight of the villain he stopped the motorcycle and let the engine idle.
"Don't do it, August," he said out loud to himself. Geppetto taught August enough handyman skills that he could probably diagnose her car trouble quite easily.
"She'll only insult you."
He turned the motorcycle around.
"Don't expect a thank you."
August's conscience won and he rode back to Cruella and her car.
He found her with one hand on her hip and her eyes looking skyward. A curse slipped through her lips but he ignored it as he turned off the engine and removed his helmet. She raised a thick eyebrow.
"Hello, puppet." Distain laced her tone.
"What seems to be the problem?" He set the helmet on the back of the motorcycle and approached cautiously.
"The problem is that, apparently, no one in this bloody town answers their phone." She blinked several times.
August put his hand on the hood and felt around for the release latch. He almost said that's because they see it's you calling, but he refrained.
"Well, say it darling."
August ignored her and lifted the hood.
"They all loath me."
August wanted to inform her that he should be included in her reference to all, but he held his tongue.
"I can't say I blame them." Her eyes flashed brightly.
He stopped his inspection of the car and looked at her.
"I confess I like their fear," she hugged the fur, "but it's not very convenient for car trouble."
August frowned. He touched the engine and burnt his finger. He jumped back in surprise and put his throbbing flesh to his lips. Cruella watched him like a cat about to make a meal of a canary. He shook off the pain and the uneasiness brought about by her gaze.
"You're gonna need a tow."
She leaned over the engine and her proximity alarmed him. Her eyes focused in on the parts beneath the hood and August found a moment to really look at her without her knowing. For a brief second she smelled familiar. He wondered why.
"But you can fix it?" Her blue eyes turned back to him with intensity.
"Me? No, they can down at the auto-shop."
Cruella pressed her lips. August wanted to turn away from her. He found her attractive. Why did she have to be pretty? She knew it too. An irrational anger tensed his shoulders.
"Greasy dwarf or whatever-his-name-is refuses my business. Surely a smart little puppet hero like yourself can fix it?" Cruella reached into her black and white spotted purse and pulled out a wad of cash. She took his hand and shoved the bills into his palm.
"If you need more I can pay you more."
"Cruella, I really don't-"
She sauntered over to his motorcycle.
"Of course you don't, darling. But no one will blame you. Matter of fact, they'll probably praise you for bravely protecting the peasants from me."
Her leather pant leg tightened as she hoisted it over the motorcycle. She sat and reached for his helmet.
"Now, be a dear and give me a ride back to my new home." Her arm outstretched with the helmet in her grasp.
August bit his bottom lip. He glanced down the road and sighed. The pleasant afternoon joy ride suddenly turned into a drudgery ride. Even as he took the helmet he regretted the action. Common sense told him to refuse, but his conscience over-ruled sense and he climbed on the motorcycle.
Cruella snaked her hands up his chest. He felt her cheek snuggle against his shoulder.
"This is cozy," she cooed.
August pried her hands away and rolled his shoulder to avoid contact with her.
"Not so tight," he growled. He really, really hated her. Though he could not see her face, he sensed her wicked grin. Her grip found his waist, this time not so tight. He kick started the engine.
Grumpy ensured all of Storybrooke knew that Cruella had purchased the Harrell place within 24 hours of the event. For once August was grateful for the dwarf's big mouth because it allowed him to avoid a prolonged conversation with the fashion maven.
He reached the trimmed hedges of the mansion and glanced up at the arch over the single lane entry. The Harrell's left the place in despair. The letters in the name "Harrell" had rusted over the years. The metal "a" and two "r's" dropped from the wire frame. Natural erosion led the local's to create a nickname for the estate. Hell House.
August drove up to the impressive entry. Two columns stood on each side of a tiered white staircase. He stopped but did not turn off the engine. Cruella climbed off the seat and turned to face him. She stood with one arm wrapped around her waist and the other lifted in the air.
"I'd call to have them tow the car, darling, but I think you better make the arrangements."
August wanted to refuse but he gave into pity for the miserable creature. No one liked her. No one ever would. That, if nothing else, made her worthy of some pity.
"Don't look at me like that," Cruella snarled. "If there's one thing I can't stand it's a puppy eyed puppet." She turned on her four inch heel and marched up the stairs.
August drove away. He wondered how he would explain to his papa the presence of Cruella De Vil's car in the workshop.