A/N: First off, I am so, so sorry for the shameful delay. I won't offer any excuses, just know I am deeply sorry for how long this took. Given that Gaz is one of Robert Carlyle's most beloved characters, I wanted to make sure I got it right. I need to say thank you again to Bundyshoes and Nightowlsnest for your help and insight on the story. So for better or worse, here is "The Full Monty", (I do not own Gaz, Emma, the Full Monty or OUAT.) I truly hope you enjoy it!

"I did'nae hurt you, did I?" Emma smiled at the anxious young man before her, brushing the last of the dirt and grass from her black pants. She was beginning to fear that she was, in fact, dead and that she would just be cursed to meet Gold again and again for all eternity. Though, it wasn't much of curse given how much she liked him, but the thought that she would never see Henry again – never see Mary or Gold – chilled her to the bone, beyond what the cold wind could do.

"No, I ducked in time." She said, her eyes drifting to the ball that was rolling further down the hill. "Would you like me to chase after your ball for you?" Emma tried not to stare as Gaz looked passed her, but she was almost certain he had tears in his eyes.

"Nah, don'nae worry about it…" He replied, waving his hand dismissively, avoiding her gaze.

The man beside her was obviously distressed and distracted and Emma wasn't sure her company was welcome. With a tight smile and polite nod, she started walking away in awkward silence, not really sure where she was going. They were on a small hill and not too far below them was an industrial looking town, kind of quaint looking like something out of time. She crossed her arms when a chilling breeze ghosted over her skin, rubbing her hands quickly up and down trying to create some friction. While the scenery in this country, and even in Scotland had been truly beautiful, she missed the warmth of the sunlight. Everything here was cold and dreary, always seeming on the verge of a storm.

"So, what brings you here?" He asked softly beside her. Emma turned her head with a gracious smile, not even aware he had been following her. "Not many Americans find their way to Sheffield. We aren't very high on any tourism list."

"Oh, I've been exploring England all day. I got a little lost and I ended up here." She lied coolly, in no mood to discuss the dream or being drugged again. He removed his black leather jacket and with a hesitant smile, draped it gently over her shivering shoulders.

Emma quickly pushed her arms through the sleeves, pulling the jacket closed to guard from the biting wind. "Thank you…" He nodded once in response, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

"So where were ya headin'? Maybe I can get ya back on yer way."

"You wanna get rid of me already?" she teased, trying to make him laugh. At the worry that creased his brow, she could see it had backfired.

"Oh, no…that's no' wha' I meant at all…I just…" He dropped his gaze and shook his head, and the man looked to be on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

"It's ok, I was just teasing." She interjected quickly. His eyes finally met hers and she smiled again, hoping to put him at ease. "I didn't really have a destination…" she added as their walk continued. A crooked smile formed on his lips as he shrugged his shoulder.

"That might be yer problem." He said with a slight chuckle. Emma laughed outright at that, nodding in agreement as they edged closer to town.

"Yea, I guess. So tell me, why isn't Sheffield on any tourist lists? It seems a nice enough place…" He scoffed and rolled his eyes.

"Please…I hate it here. The whole town is goin' under ever since the steel factory closed and more than half of us lost our jobs."

"So, why don't you just leave?"

"No money, and plus…my son is here. I can'nae just leave him." He explained briefly. Emma inhaled deeply knowing his situation all too well. Were it not for Henry she never would've stayed in Storybrooke, she never would have even gone there in the first place. There are days she feels trapped, but oddly, she wouldn't change any of it. She can't imagine her life now without Henry, Mary, or Gold.

"I know exactly how you feel..."

"You have a son?" he asked, surprise evident in his soft voice.

"I do…"

"Why isn't he here with ya, then?"

"To make a long story short, I was only eighteen when I had him and I gave him up for adoption. Just a few months ago he came and found me and when I realized how unhappy he was I decided to stay, but I still have no legal right to take him back."

"I'm sorry. That must be…well, torture."

"That's exactly what it is. But I needed some time to myself to try and gain some perspective."

"So you just skipped off to England for a week, eh?"

"Something like that…" The grass ended, replaced by cement and sidewalks as they walked into town. From a distance the town seemed to thrive, but as they walked, Emma started to see a more complete picture as almost every warehouse or building was abandoned with a for sale sign. As they walked up a small incline, a pair of men approached them, badly humming a song and lifting their shirts up.

"Go get shagged…" he yelled over his shoulder. A flush crept up his neck into his cheeks. "Sorry, love…" He mumbled, unable to look at her. Emma looked between Gaz and the men walking away, not entirely sure what she just witnessed.

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to pry, but you look kinda upset. Is everything alright?" she asked gently.

"No' really, no." he replied quietly after a moment of silence.

"Well, if you'd like to talk about it…" she let her offer hang in the air as they continued their walk. A grateful smile spread across his lips, finally lifting his eyes to see her. Emma returned the smile, waiting patiently for him to begin.

"See, uh, we all lost our jobs, right? My ex-wife is suin' for sole custody of our son since I can'nae pay my share. In six months none of us have gotten a job. So, a couple of my mates and I, we…we came up with a plan to make a quick buck…" he shook his head, taking a deep breath, "…by taking our clothes off."

"Stripping?" she clarified, trying to mask her surprise. His shame was obvious and she didn't want to exasperate it by having a negative reaction. Stripping wasn't even on the list of things she thought he might say. She could only imagine how desperate he must be to do something so drastic just to be able to see his son.

"Go on…go ahead and laugh it up." He stated bitterly, "But it's no' like we're doin' this for kicks, I'm doin' it to keep my boy…" Emma held his gaze, keeping her facial expression set as stone.

"Why would I laugh? Women have been doing it for years. You have to do what's best for your kid." Emma gave him a reassuring smile and added, "I think it's admirable and it just goes to show how much you love your son." His body seemed to relax as he sighed in relief.

"Well, thanks for not laughin' at least." Emma nodded slowly, feeling the weight of his stare as she watched her feet intently.

"At first it seemed like a great idea, an easy way to make a few thousand quid. I don't know what we were thinkin'…" he continued in her silence, "…I was supposed to have my son tonight which is why I had the soccer ball, but the problem is that we just got arrested during a rehearsal and my boy was with me. Our photo was the front cover of the newspaper and now…now I can't see him at all. It jus' seems like everything I do to keep my son backfires…"

"Oh, I know how that goes…" he quirked a curious eyebrow as he studied her. "I was, uh, I was in jail when I gave birth. The woman who adopted my son has used that against me, and any time I fight back it just blows up in my face."

"What were you in jail for?"

"Theft…" Shock flashed across his face as his eyes widened, but whatever he was thinking he didn't share.

"What about his father?" Emma took a deep breath, not expecting that to be the question he asked.

"He uh, he didn't know. I never told him. It's not like we were in love or even a couple…it just happened." Emma swallowed hard at the memory, trying to force the image of her foster father from her mind. "He's dead now, anyway…" she added with some measure of relief.

"So when's the show?" she asked before he could reply, desperate for a change of topic.

"It was supposed to be tonight…but after everything I don't think we're doin' it, to be honest…" He scoffed bitterly, shaking his head. "It was bad enough losing my job, and losing my son is agony, but now the humiliation of this…" He wasn't able to finish his sentence as a car pulled up beside them. Gaz didn't look happy to see the man who stepped out of the car and Emma decided to hang back so they could speak privately.

Emma didn't know the full story of what had happened between Gold and his son, but the two men clearly shared an intense, borderline obsession with their boys. She had seen her fair share of 'fathers' and none of them displayed the commitment and depths of love these men showed. She didn't know quite how far Gold had gone to keep his son, but she is fairly certain that there isn't much he wouldn't do. Stripping was a stretch, but somehow, she could see him agreeing to anything if it meant saving and keeping Bae. Gaz returned to her with a broad smile, bubbling over with excitement.

"We're on…we're bloody on…" he said enthusiastically, unable to stand still. Emma smiled brightly, assuming that meant the show was back on. "I've got to go tell the lads. Will you come to the show, Emma?"

"Oh, you know, I would, but I don't have any money." It was a lame excuse, but she didn't actually think she'd be here that much longer.

"I'm pretty sure if you're with me than you can get in…" he said, a cocky smile plastered on his lips. His confidence seemed to return full force with the news that the show was to go on. Emma forced a tight smile and nodded in response, unsure of what to say. She had never seen Gold naked before either, and even though this was a dream, this wasn't how she wanted it to happen. "Look, if you don't want to go its fine…"

"No, it's not that, it's just that…truthfully, I've never done this before – seen a stripping show I mean, male or female…" She stammered breathlessly.

"Well, it's a first for me as well. Maybe it'll help for me to have someone I know in the audience." She bit her lower lip, not entirely comfortable with the idea, but not entirely against it.

"Alright then," Emma agreed tentatively. But part of her hoped that she will wake up in Storybrooke before the finale.

Emma sat at a table in the front of the bar, anxiously sipping an iced tea. On the way over, Gaz explained that they were doing the full monty – had she known that fact sooner she might not have agreed. The crowd filed in behind her, the small bar bursting at the seams with women and men alike. She checked the clock again wondering why she was still here – this was perhaps the longest she'd spent anywhere in this nightmare. Despite the rising cheers and excitement around her, her thoughts drifted back to Mary, praying she was alright. Emma hoped that she escaped town and that she wasn't recaptured and thrown back in jail with a slew of new charges. Days had to have passed and Emma wondered if she had been reported missing or if Regina simply told everyone that she skipped town to protect her roommate. Regina would make sure to tell Henry that she had abandoned him again, this time for good. The thought made her stomach churn and she glanced at the clock again.

The starting time for the show had come and gone and Emma was growing increasingly restless. Leaving her drink at the table, she walked to the hallway that led to the door of the backstage entrance. Pressing her ear to the door, she could hear the unmistakable voice of Gaz rambling on and on about that there were men in the audience. She considered going in and reminding him he was doing this for his son, but she remained where she was. She could only imagine what he must be feeling – losing his job was the first major blow to his dignity, then losing his son, and now this. It wasn't her place to try and convince him otherwise if he was truly uncomfortable with it.

"Excuse me?" a young voice said behind her. Emma turned to see a young boy about Henry's age.

"Hi," she greeted with a broad smile, turning to face him more fully. The boy had the same chocolate brown eyes and dirty blond hair as Gaz. "You must be Gaz's son…"

"I am…my name's Nathan…" he replied, holding out his hand. Emma clasped his hand, squeezing gently.

"It's nice to meet you Nathan, I'm Emma…"

"Do you know my dad?"

"I only just met him, actually, but he hasn't stopped talking about you. I've rarely met a father so proud of his son…" His face lit up with an ear to ear grin

"Yea, he came up with this whole idea just so he could pay my mom and get to see me…" the boy said proudly.

"He told me…but it sounds like he's getting cold feet, though…"

"I'll talk to him…" Emma smiled, unsettled that the boy was here where there was to be a strip show. Though, who was she to judge? How many days did she let Henry cut school and come with her on various tasks? Her very vivid memory of Henry almost dying in the mine because she didn't believe him came rushing to the forefront of her mind.

"It was nice to meet you…" she said, stepping back from the door.

"You too, Emma…"

The crowd had started chanting, obviously getting restless for the show to begin. She quickly returned to her front row seat in time to see one of the men on stage introducing the act. Her body was humming with anticipation, borderline excited. She was glad this was happening in a dream, feeling her embarrassment flush her cheeks, and she still hoped that she would wake up before the full monty was revealed. The music started and Emma watched as one by one each man entered the stage. She waited expectantly for Gaz to appear. He didn't.

The dance started with the five men on stage, varying ages and body types but each man handsome in his own way. She clapped and cheered them on, contemplating just leaving and waiting outside until she woke up in another dream, or woke up altogether. But still, she couldn't help feeling disappointed; she had started to look forward to seeing Gold dance. The thought made her laugh, imagining how Gold would react if she ever asked him to strip for her. His injured leg aside, it would be interesting to say the least.

Suddenly from the left, Gaz jogged onto the stage fully dressed with a cocky grin. He quickly removed his jacket to catch up to the others and with a wink, tossed it directly to her. Emma's grin widened, her voice cheering louder for him as she clutched the jacket to her chest. With Gaz on stage her eyes focused solely on him, the adrenaline pumping through her veins. Their black ties came off next and they too were sent sailing into the crowd. His gaze hardly left hers except to scan the crowd and if she didn't know better, she would never have known he was so nervous. They moved around the stage and for a moment he pointed backstage, and Emma could only guess his son was watching.

The screams and laughter rose around her and it was obvious these men weren't professionals, but they seemed to be having fun despite their discomfort. And so was she… Emma was surprised to find herself dancing in her seat, giddy as a school girl when they started unbuttoning their shirts. His eyes drifted back to her as he pulled it open, revealing his smooth chest. He raised an eyebrow with a flirtatious wink as he slid the shirt off his shoulder, teasing her with the show. Her hands reached out to catch the shirt, adding it to the growing pile of clothing in her lap.

The belts came off almost immediately after that and went flying into the crowd. Her fist tightened on his shirt, leaning back in her chair as they gripped their pants, pulling them off in a single tug. Removing his hat, he covered the red leather thong with a teasing glare and crooked grin. She held his gaze cheering excitedly, not even sure he could see her with the bright lights shining on them. She acted as if he could see her, hoping to give him an ego boost every time he saw her, witnessing how excited she was to see him. Gold was insecure about his looks to say the least and she wondered if Gaz had a similar struggle.

They walked to the front of the stage, pulling the thongs off beneath the hat. Emma buried her face in his shirt for the briefest of moments knowing the hats were coming off next. They dangled the garments teasingly in the air and Emma was slightly relieved when the red leather was dropped on the stage rather than tossed into the crowd. He was close enough to touch, and if she'd had money and he was still wearing that thong she would have stuffed quite a few dollars beneath the strap as they turned their back, shaking their hips and showing their ass to the crowd. Emma was cheering loudly, ready to bury her face again as they turned…

Her smile instantly faded as she looked around in mute horror, practically hyperventilating when she saw the dark corridors and torches on the wall. Her blood pounded in her ears, fearful that at any moment she would come face to face with Durza once more. Emma leaned against a wall to catch her breath, not wanting to make a single solitary sound. The walls were jagged rocks and Emma quickly realized she was in a cave. Durza had a fortress with brick walls, but that thought did little to comfort her.

"Come in, dearie…" she heard his eerie voice call. It was too high-pitched to be Durza, but the sound sent chills along her spine nonetheless. She took slow, heavy steps, practically holding her breath as she peered around the wall. Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion when she saw a cell with sharp pointed bars, but no prisoner inside. She stepped closer, ready for anything to come jumping out at her.

"Who's there?" A truly creepy, maniacal cackling echoed around her, causing her to stop a safe distance from the bars. The man, or rather the creature, uncurled himself from the ceiling like a bat. He dropped to the floor, landing on his feet in a crouched position. Her heart all but stopped, taking a step back as the reptilian looking creature stood upright. Clad in leather, his skin shimmered in the dim firelight. Her only comfort was the jagged pieces of wood that kept him inside the cage. His fingers wrapped around the bars sticking his face between them.

"Rumpelstiltskin…" he growled in a low and menacing voice.

Well, as always, please review. I hope you enjoyed it! I really want to thank everyone who has followed this story to this point, I truly appreciate all of your reviews and kind words.

And Selyne Nightshade: I was initially going to write their reactions, but given that Emma is dreaming and this is being told strictly from her POV, I decided against it. But that may all be dealt with by the end :)