Rumple's Midnight Encounters: For kathrynthegreatone
In the midst of the night a golden man was seated behind his desk, bottling fame, toying with the ingredients for the curse he wanted to create, when suddenly a sizzling sound from behind him announced another guest and he turned, languidly, to keep his eyes on the teleport. Out of the area sparks emerged and a woman stepped.
Rumplestiltskin raised a brow at his new visitor and gestured with his claw-like hand. "Please, take a seat." He said, having added a new stool to his dungeon room because of the amount of visitors he had lately.
The woman smiled and took a few steps forth. With her eyes darting to the stool it was easy to see she was hesitating and the golden imp rolled his eyes. "It's not booby-trapped, dearie."
She sat down and smiled at him. "So, what is your name, dearie?" Rumplestiltskin inquired, and the woman replied with her lips curled. "You can call me mom."
The imp blinked. "Mom? You're not my mother, are you?"
The woman laughed and shook her head. "No, I'm not your mother."
"Alright, mom," Rumplestiltskin continued, he always had a weak for young children and babies and anyone calling themselves a mom in his books was someone of great importance and worth dealing with, "have you come to make me a deal?"
Mom looked at him pensively. "I'm not quite sure why I am here to be honest." She replied, making the imp frown. "I am quite a fan of the series."
This raised the man's interest. "The series? My dear, dearie, dearie, this is the real life. Nya-ah."
Mom had to smile at his deranged giggle and placed her hands on her knees. "I am a fan of you."
This made the imp blush. "Get out." He muttered, not ready to take a compliment.
"I don't know what just happened," Mom said, running a hand through her hair, "one moment I was studying for college and being distracted by my two boys, the next I was zapped away and reappeared in your chamber. I must say, you've decorated your dungeon-home really stylish."
Rumplestiltskin clapped his hands. "You think?" He said, proud of the way he had furbished, although minimalistic, his dungeons to be the proper study for him.
Mom nodded.
"Wait, did you say college?" Rumplestiltskin asked, eyes narrowed.
"Yes, I am a college student and I," she looked away, "actually need to study a bit more than I do now."
The golden man hummed. "Well, with two kids I'd say it isn't odd you haven't the time to do all." There was a twinkle in his eyes, a vague twinge of memories and of remembering.
Mom saw it and leaned closer to him. "Are you thinking of him?" She asked. "Of your son?"
This snapped him out of his thoughts and he looked at her with a scowl. His lips curled into a snarl. "Care to make a deal?" He sung. She'd clearly been right with her assumption. He had been thinking of Baelfire.
"Alright," Mom agreed, just to please him. "What is it you have to offer me?"
This returned Rumplestiltskin's smile. "I can give you more time for fun. How does that sound, dearie?"
"And I would benefit from this how?" Mom asked, tapping a finger against the desk.
The golden man circled his hands about in great dramatic and theatrical movements. "Isn't it obvious dearie?"
"More time and more fun?" she repeated as she wondered out loud and mulled his words over.
"Yes," Rumplestiltskin replied, confused and curious where she was taking this conversation. "I'd say it speaks for itself."
"I can't accept that." Mom finally said, having Rumplestiltskin's eyes turn as large as plates in confusion and shock of being denied a deal. "You know, being a bit stressed makes me work harder and I get better results."
His large orbs looked confused at her but as her words settled it caused him to smile. "I see, a clever girl then." He mused. "So the deal is off?"
Mom smiled at him. "The deal is off."
With a loud exaggerated sigh Rumplestiltskin turned back to his bottles. "Usually there is something I can persuade my clients with."
Mom eyed him. "But I am not a client." He hesitated and she knew he was listening intently. "I am a friend."
Frozen, Rumplestiltskin sat, bottles in his hands, until after a pregnant pause he turned his head to her and repeated. "Friend?" But she had already gone.
The thought was too alien for him, too new, to accept as reality. "A friend." He murmured to himself as he continued his work.
He has a friend.
