Disclaimer: I do not own House or Once. Fox/ABC does.
A/N: Okay, just a slight warning: this chapter is LONG! But I tried to make it as good as possible.
Good news! My favorite character shows up in this chapter! (= For a price (hint hint!).
Again, sorry for the extensive length. This was simply the way I planned out these chapters.
By the way, the reviews are amazing as always! Each one stimulates my inspiration all the more.
Chapter Eleven
It was raining as the ebony horse-drawn carriage reached the ivory black gates of the castle, rolls of thunder pounding in the skies above. How very fitting, the Evil Queen mused as she stepped out of her carriage, the raindrops soaking into her inky hair.
From this point she was to walk, a thick cloak of magic enveloping the castle and preventing her carriage from progressing any further. The whinny of the horses was drowned out by a fierce clap of thunder.
The gate eased open of its own accord as she approached it, the owner already expecting her arrival. The hint of magic clung to her damp frame, the horrid taste of it lingering on her tongue.
Powerful and unpredictable, it was a source of magic that she had attempted to extinguish once, though that tack had failed. Even so, it had opened another opportunity for her. That very opportunity was now sulking in her kingdom's dungeon.
Just as the gates had done, the massive entrance doors creaked open before her hand could rest upon them. Oh, yes-she was expected.
The hall was dim, the heavy drapes once more blocking any light that may have crept across the groaning floorboards. Positioned in the corner was a spinner's wheel, with little straw left to spin. A mirror existed in the corner, covered by a heavy cloth to prevent her spying. An elongated table occupied the center of the room, the chairs vacant and dusty.
The Evil Queen smirked as she ran a finger across the surface of the decorative table, her black glove revealing a streak of gray dust. Love is weakness, she repeated in her head. Even for a monster such as him.
"Where could the powerful dealmaker be hiding today?" Her clipped voice echoed throughout the deserted hall, bouncing off the high ceilings. No answer returned. Irritation consumed her-why must he feel the need to be difficult, to fight against her?
"I know that you are here. Let us not prolong the inevitable," she enticed the imp, who insisted on avoiding her grasp.
Slipping off her black gloves, the Evil Queen pocketed them and listened for the slightest sign of life. Certainly he is not away, procuring another pathetic deal...
"Looking for me, dearie?" The rich, lilting accent rose behind her, though how he managed to catch her off guard, she did not know. Never did she enjoy it when he orchestrated his power.
Her deceptive, curved smile fixed on her red lips, the Evil Queen faced the imp whose name would not willingly scorch her tongue that night. Power was a deadly weapon and try as she might, she yielded momentarily to his.
"It is clear you have not heeded my advice of replacing the girl you lost," the Evil Queen mentioned, grimacing at the poor condition of the estate in which her adversary resided.
Gray-gold skin shimmering in the few particles of light, wide murky eyes devouring her very soul, he gracefully stalked past her to settle before the spinning wheel. Blackened nails thrifted the straw with the wheel, producing glistening gold-a clever act of magic that even she could not hope to imitate.
"Oh, come now. You cannot be angry with me forever," she goaded him, eyeing his leather-clad back and only imagining the fierce expression playing across his mystical features.
"That, I assure you, I can," he replied smoothly, a single scaly finger raised to acknowledge her words.
The Evil Queen sighed with frustration. It would be simple to storm out, to never return to that haunted, empty castle-but what choice remained?
"As you may have guessed, I am here to make a deal with you." The Evil Queen skirted along the table, awaiting his cooperation. The wheel paused and abruptly he whirled to her, annoyance radiating towards her like the cruelest of daggers.
"Is that so? Here I wondered if you wished to be my dinner partner," he mocked her bitterly.
In a swift movement, the imp stood to his feet, the chair kicked away, the crackling of power emanating around him. Genuine fear swept through her for who knew what he was entirely capable of. As much as she detested it, he was the one in control.
"What is it the dear queen desires this time?" Akin to a vulture, he circled her with avid amusement, barogue thick as ever in all his fury. Lips twisted in a pout, the Evil Queen spun to face him., throat swelling with emotion at being belittled against her will.
"Snow White-" The imp clucked his tongue at her, cutting her off lest she complain all the more.
"Snow White this and Snow White that," the imp ridiculed her, a chilling grin splashed across his shadowy face. Pointing a sharp nail at her, those dark lips smirked. "Perhaps, dearie, you should get yourself another husband."
You should get yourself another girl, she had shoved that girl in his face the last time she had stood in this hall. The tables had turned-her words were being flung back at her harshly.
"I require a personal detail of hers in order to exact my revenge," she brushed off his vile demeanor, strictly business. He lingered behind her, darkened eyes calculating, long fingers steepled under his chin.
"Obviously your means of revenge is petty if you traded away my dark curse. Your lack of faith in my power is insulting." A shrill giggle escaped his throat, shivers skating down the length of the Evil Queen's spine. "And what is it you think you can offer me?"
The Evil Queen despised this part more than anything else in the dealmaking process, especially where he was concerned. Swallowing her pride, the Evil Queen locked eyes with him. There would always be a price.
"What would you prefer?" The Evil Queen was not foolish enough to promise him 'anything', for there were some things she would never part with. A cowering, helpless girl in her dungeon, for one.
He pretended to deeply consider it, mischievous smile splitting in two to reveal a row of jagged, yellowed teeth. Leering at her, he practically danced around her with excitement.
"A favor will do," he replied in a sing-song fashion, giggling at whatever twisted thoughts spurred his mind. The Evil Queen pursed her lips and weighed her options. "Do we have a deal?"
The imp extended a rough hand towards her, patiently awaiting the inevitable. What choice did she have? He understood her turmoil and acted upon it like a musician conducting his instrument.
"Deal," the Evil Queen accepted the hand, his grip strong as iron. Heart thudding, it seemed like she had just handed over her soul to him.
Lifting her black skirts, the Evil Queen strode past the dealmaker, escaping into the rain without a second glance back. The high-pitched laughter molded with the thunder, trailing her like a veil that would not permit her peace. It shall be worth it...in the end...
...
It was nine o'clock in the morning, according to the clock tower. House was sitting inside Granny's Diner, observing Storybrooke's citizens passing through and puzzling over Henry.
A light breeze fluttered into the diner, matching the silvery chime of the bell.
Ruby rushed in, simultaneously trying to tie her long hair back and fastening the waitress uniform around her waist. A couple of people-mostly men-nodded a hello as she grabbed up a hot pot of coffee to serve.
"Someone's late to work. Wonder why that is," House said to her as she stopped by his table. Ruby leaned farther over the table than was necessary, pouring a steaming stream of coffee into his cup.
"Just paying my rent...thanks to you. The coffee's free by the way, as a token of gratitude," Ruby told him, grinning down at him appreciatively. House sipped the coffee-at least it was good.
"Mind if I ask you something?" House immediately detested the words. Since when did he ask permission to ask a question? Ruby tilted her head at him.
"Depends on what it is you're asking," she lightly replied, eyebrows raised in amusement. House paused, staring out the window. Ruby slowly became anxious, probably wondering if he was ever going to ask his question.
"Who would I need to go to in this town...if I wanted to dig up some information that I may or may not be allowed to have?"
Ruby stiffened, her bright smile slipping at the edges. The hand that was curled around the handle of the coffee pot started to quiver slightly. House had hit a nerve somehow. Interesting.
"I...I'm not sure, really. Maybe you should ask someone else-"
"You're lying," House called her out. His fingers drummed against his cane, which was resting on the seat beside him. "Either you're afraid of the person in question or you think I'll be getting myself into trouble and you want no part in it. Which is it?"
Ruby's red lips thinned into a tense line and she flicked her crimson-streaked hair over her shoulder. Many of the people in the diner were curiously peering at them now, watching the show.
"Both, actually. I don't think I can help you," Ruby stated, walking away. House darted forward and caught her by the wrist. Ruby gasped and stared down at his hand encircling her wrist, surprised.
"How about another month's rent? That is, if you tell me the truth this time," House negotiated, revealing the last of his cash.
Ruby's mouth dropped open-three months' rent-and the coffee pot slipped from her hands. It crashed to the floor, the glass shattering into pieces and coffee splashing everywhere. The other people in the diner whirled their heads around, eyes wide.
"Wha...but..." Ruby was incapable of stringing together a single coherent sentence. House held the money out to her.
Ruby's hand instantly snaked forward...and stopped within a few inches of the cash. Her face contorted with confusion and struggle, her fingers nearly grazing the bills. Slowly, her fingers curled into a fist and she retreated from House's offer.
"I'm sorry. I couldn't be responsible for you getting involved with someone like him. It's not worth it. We'll make do with two months' rent," Ruby said as she backed away. House sighed-that had been unexpected.
"Look. Whatever it is, I'm sure I can handle it. You'd be doing me a favor," House insisted.
The information was there with Ruby; she simply refused to hand it to him. Ruby eyed the money again, her internal battle eating at her.
"Three months without rent. Going once...going twice...two and a half..."
"Okay, okay," Ruby broke down, filling the seat opposite House. The mumble of the diner started up again, though everyone was sneaking glances at their table. "I can't believe I'm telling you this...but there is one person who could help you."
"Name? Details?" House asked, not caring for the suspense of the situation. Ruby stalled again, her hands folding together nervously.
"Listen, I really don't recommend-"
"Name? Details?" House repeated in a sharper tone, growing impatient. Ruby rested her elbows on the table, lowering her head towards him to avoid being overheard any more than was necessary.
"His name is Mr. Gold. He runs a pawnshop, but he's the only person who could help you. He's always involved with business deals. Hell, he's the one we're paying rent to. The shop isn't far from here, just up that way," Ruby pointed out the window in the right direction. "Trust me, you can't miss it."
House nodded and slid the money across the table to her. Ruby accepted it, savoring the feel of the money in her hands. It was more money than she and Granny had ever seen in a while. Pity it had to go to someone like him.
"But, seriously, I don't think it's a good idea," Ruby protested, tucking the money into her skirt pockets. House stood and retrieved his cane. No sense wasting time.
"I'm not one to consider good ideas," House said before limping out of the diner, leaving behind a stunned Ruby in his wake.
...
The pawnshop was more than fifty feet from the diner and House's leg was starting to ache something fierce. Popping two Vicodin in his mouth, House would have rested against one of the various shop windows if the sign for his destination hadn't loomed into view.
The large overhanging sign simply read: Mr. Gold's Antiques, the colors a faded golden. Ruby was right at least-there was no chance of missing it. It beckoned House forward like a siren luring him to his death. An unpleasant thought, but somehow appropriate.
The bell hanging above the door offered a shrill ring as House pushed the door open.
The shop itself was overwhelming; there were dozens upon dozens of items cluttering all available space, causing his eyes to roam wildly about.
There were paintings on display, some even propped on the walls. There was a china tea set in the glass cases, along with other invaluable trinkets. There was a glass unicorn baby mobile, jewelry, daggers, instruments, and bobbles. Hell, there was even a massive-sized boat hovering inches from the ceiling, suspended by wires.
Despite the range of objects, there was only one thing lacking: the owner.
House quickly grew impatient as he scanned the strange items that appeared to have been gathering dust for quite some time.
Approaching the register, House peered over it and drummed his fingers on the glass surface of the display case. The sign on the entrance door was flipped to Open, so the owner was here somewhere, lurking.
House raised his cane and obnoxiously tapped it multiple times against the glass display case, alerting the owner to his presence. No sound.
Turning, House neared the glass mobile and observed it. One of his fingers grazed it, the glass unicorns swinging hesitantly back and forth.
It was odd, but the sight of it reminded him a little of Cameron. House reached out to stop one of the unicorns from swinging, her face filling his mind-
"May I help you?"
A rich voice, accompanied by an eloquent Scottish accent, broke through House's reverie. Without warning, the owner was standing near the register, scrutinizing him with amusement.
House gave him the once-over, as he did with most people during first encounters.
The man was lean and smartly dressed in an impeccable business suit. Dusty brown hair framed his sharp angular features.
A grin was dancing on the man's lips, as if he knew something House did not. Slender fingers casually rested on the glass case, though House suspected those fingers would be capable of great measures when the man was provoked.
What struck House most was the man's eyes.
A mystifying shade of brown, those eyes were marked with intelligence. Though intense in hue, those eyes lacked warmth-instead, they were cold and calculating, not unlike House's own.
This was not a man to be taken lightly by any means. No wonder Ruby warned against it; the young waitress must be easily spooked by such an intimidating figure.
"It's about time," House muttered under his breath.
The man's lips lifted an inch or so at the edges-he'd heard very clearly. House suspected that very little passed the man's notice.
"I take it you're Mr. Gold," House surmised, limping closer and leaving the glass case between them.
"That I am," the man answered, dipping his head once slightly.
Mr. Gold watched him like a hawk observing its prey and House struggled to fight for control of the situation. Somehow he was losing-usually he dominated the conversation.
"And you would be the doctor tending to the ill-fallen Ms. Blanchard. What can I do for you?"
House's alarms went off in his head at the extent of Gold's knowledge. That inquiring question of his was soft-spoken, yet demanded House's attention.
As House worked to choose his words wisely, Mr. Gold swiftly moved along the glass case to examine the glass mobile that had previously entranced House.
House noted the limp in the man's leg and found it odd that he had not heard the man appear from the back room, even with the presence of a cane. Every movement the man made was somewhat graceful and articulate.
"What happened to your leg?" House motioned to Mr. Gold's bad leg, the same one that contained House's problem. Interesting. Mr. Gold tilted his head and smiled wanly.
"An unfortunate accident," he replied smoothly. House waited, but Gold apparently did not want to elaborate. "What of yours?" House tapped his cane on the ground-two could be evasive in this game. That's what it was: a skillful game of chess.
"Handcuffs, a coat hanger, rope, and an intoxicated stripper. Put those four together and you get your answer."
An awkward silence fell around the shop. One of Gold's eyebrows rose in interest; the man knew House was avoiding the subject.
It takes a good liar to recognize another equally good liar, he had said as much to Regina and it was still true of the pawnbroker.
One of Mr. Gold's hands brushed along the edge of a case of daggers, though his eyes remained locked on House. There was never a time that they moved or even faltered.
"As I said, what can I do for you, Dr. House?" This startled House more than anything and instantly caused him to throw his guard up. His hand gripped his cane firmly as he puzzled over it. How did this man know...?
"I don't remember telling you my name," House pointed out, eyes narrowing at this suspicious man. Mr. Gold shrugged once and that secret grin widened, hands neatly folded on the display case.
Power clung to his frame like a second skin. Oh, yes, this man held power in the palm of his hand, even more so than Regina.
"I make it my business to understand whom I am dealing with in this town. You would be wise to do the same, I imagine," Mr. Gold stated calmly. Despite that, there was a hint of some other dark nature beneath that facade.
"Is that a threat?" House lingered in the center of the shop, satisfied with the distance between them. Could this man be as dangerous as Ruby made it seem? There was indeed something off about him, something...impish in his behavior.
"Observation," Gold replied nonchalantly.
Retrieving his own cane, Mr. Gold leaned farther over the display case, the air of business surrounding him. House bit his tongue of any sharp remarks-it did not change the fact that he required this man's assistance.
"I'm here to make a deal with you," House said, getting to the point. It was nice to know that even a small town like Storybrooke had its shadier side of life. Judging by the coating of dust, it seemed most residents gave this man a wide berth.
"That's what I figured," Mr. Gold retorted, waiting patiently for House to swallow his pride. "What is it you desire?"
"I need extensive background information on Cam-" House paused, her familiar name almost slipping through his teeth. "On Emma Swan," he corrected. There was his request; now, he simply needed to know the price.
Mr. Gold straightened and headed for the back room, cane in hand. House watched as the man disappeared behind the black curtain and reappeared with a thick file clutched in his hand.
"I may have what you're looking for. Right here," Mr. Gold emphasized, laying the file on the glass display case. House leered at Mr. Gold, eyes darting between him and the manila folder.
"What, are you stalking her?" At first, it sounded like a ridiculous idea, but then Cameron was attractive, even if House himself did not act upon it. And this man was suspicious. Mr. Gold smirked at House's blunt expression.
"My intentions are not quite subversive. I have simply taken a rather special interest in Miss Swan," he explained, her name spoken with more enthusiasm than House thought necessary.
House started forward to reach for the file, but Gold deliberately slid it backwards. Not so fast, those dark eyes seemed to scold him. House sighed-he had prepared for this obstacle.
"Of course, I would allow you all the information you could desire. For a price," Gold hinted.
Hand on the file, tempting House, Gold waited. The information was right there and he longed for an answer to that puzzling question, no matter the cost.
How serious could the price be? It wasn't as if his life hung in the balance. And besides, House was accustomed to lying to get what he wanted. He'd pore over the information and make the excuse that he was lying when it came time to pay up. And that would be that.
"What's your price?" House would play well-mannered for now. This was his kind of game after all, a game in which House had never lost before.
Mr. Gold seemed to perk up the tiniest bit, with an emotion akin to glee.
"Let's just say...you'll owe me a favor." House considered it for a long moment. That was it? A favor? House was surprised at the lack of depth to this business deal. Yet, Mr. Gold seemed more than satisfied with it. Well, if that's what it takes...
"Do we have a deal?"
...
Uh-oh, House. Getting involved with Rumpel!
It is shout-out time to all my lovely reviewers! Here's to LiteraryMuffin, Danik, Kashira1786, Milli, Hameron, and Swarkles. (-; You guys rock!
To Swarkles: Don't worry-there'll be more Regina/Chase coming soon. Of course, if Regina gets involved with someone, you can bet she's up to something.
To Kashira: I guess this chapter kind of answers your question about Gold, haha. I'm going to include him more after this as well. I am also a slight Gemma shipper, so there might be some hints soon! And yes, House and Gold are very alike when it comes to being manipulative...
To LiteraryMuffin: Wow, it's good to see you're also reading my other story! I'm glad you're enjoying both of them! (-;
Thank you everyone for reading!