A/N: This one is another fairly large one, but hopefully very enjoyable. It was incredibly fun to write and I want to thank orthankg1 for requesting it. In simple terms, this one-shot covers a week or so of Emma and Gold secretly dating. Spoiler alert: it does not go smoothly.
Enjoy!
Secret
"We're going to get caught," Emma repeated for the third time that week. Every few minutes or so, she would swing her head around to stare nervously at the door to Gold's pawnshop, as if expecting someone to burst in at any moment and discover their secret. "You know, the point of secretly dating is to be secretive about it. Your shop's not bad, but going out of our way to meet at the cabin in the woods might be safer."
Nonetheless, Gold continued to bite down into his sandwich nonchalantly. She had already earned Red's suspicion when she ordered two sandwiches to go. She had used Henry as an excuse, so hopefully the kid didn't take a trip to Granny's anytime this afternoon.
It was the reason they couldn't meet for lunch at the diner, convenient though it was. If they sat down in a booth together, the secret would be out and all over town by sundown. They had agreed they weren't ready for public scrutiny yet. If word got out, and found its way to her parents, David would surely run Gold through with one hundred swords.
"Fear not, Emma, dear," Gold replied smoothly and reached for her hand. It was comforting. "No one ever comes in my shop, unless they wish to make a deal with me. Or your parents happen to intrude and demand my help. Or Regina needs to rage."
She waited, but there was no or left to follow.
"Okay, what if someone wants to make a deal? Or my parents show up? Or Regina throws a tantrum, which happens every ten minutes like clockwork?" She shot back. For that reason, she turned her head again to peek at the door.
"You could hide in the back," he suggested. "Shall I recommend the bed?" And he grinned devilishly. Emma rolled her eyes to the ceiling. They hadn't yet...done the deed, but the time was close, she could feel it. Every nerve in her body tingled, in a good way, when she thought about being intimate with Gold.
Suddenly, Gold's eyes flew open in alarm and he paused mid-chew. He gulped his food loudly.
"Emma? Perhaps now would be a good time to test that bed in the back. Your son is coming this way."
Emma cursed. He might not have used the same foul word, but it summed things up nicely. She stuffed the last chunk of her sandwich in her mouth and, with her cheeks still puffed, ducked behind the curtain. It just slid back into place when the bell above his door chimed and Henry walked in.
"Hello, Henry, how are you?" Gold greeted. He hoped he didn't sound too worked up.
He also checked his tie to remind himself that it was there. Sometimes Emma liked to unravel his tie and pop a button or two on his shirt, claiming he was "sexier" when he showed a little skin. It was difficult to keep up appearances when he was secretly dating someone as feisty as that woman.
"Hi, Mr. Gold. I want to find my mom a present. For breaking the curse."
Behind the curtain, Emma's heart fluttered. It was true that very few people had properly thanked her for breaking their curse, but she hadn't really minded the lack of spotlight. When Henry showed his gratitude and constant faith in her, though, she almost felt...special. It was too hard to resist stepping close to the curtain so she could eavesdrop on their conversation.
"That's very considerate of you, Henry," Gold replied. "I'm sure anything you give her will be well-received. Why not take a look around and see what you can find? For you, everything will be on sale. While you're doing that, I shall head into the back room and see if anything suits Miss Swan."
Emma cringed at his old, formal use of Miss Swan, even if it sounded seductive in his rich Scottish accent. That was what he called her when they first met, back when he was more of a gentleman in her company, before they fell in love and decided to secretly date. It sounded too formal, too sophisticated for her taste, but if he went around calling her Emma, it would be suspicious.
Gold turned toward the curtain, ready to return to Emma for at least the moment. However, he halted in his tracks with his hand outstretched to rip it open and stared at the curtain in dismay. There was a lamp on in the back and the golden glow washed over his expensive shoes. Not only that, but it was obvious that Emma was standing right there, given the strange Emma-shaped shadow.
He realized now that he had made a terrible mistake in stopping. He should have disregarded her shadow, continued on through that curtain, and guided Emma away from it. Now Henry paused in his browsing and followed Gold's gaze to the curtain.
"Mr. Gold? Is there someone in the back?" Henry said. He crept closer to Gold's side, as if afraid to spook the shadow. The Emma-shaped shadow moved aside, drawing back into the room. Henry reached for the curtain, but Gold clasped his shoulder and pulled him back.
"More than likely, it's someone that has foolishly broken into my shop. That tends to happen to me, despite my sinister reputation." Never had he been so glad to announce that miserable truth.
"Aren't you going to investigate?" Henry wondered.
In the back room, Emma had been sneaking toward the bed, but now she whirled around to face the curtain. She watched it ripple and feared that Henry might burst in. How would it look if she was waiting in Gold's bed?
It would look like they were secretly dating, of course.
"I will investigate...after you're gone and out of harm's way," Gold answered. Henry didn't budge an inch or make any attempt to run to the door with a scream for help. If anything, he looked concerned and ready to investigate the matter himself. After all, he came from a line of heroes.
"I don't want to leave you alone. What if you get hurt? Remember that time Ashley knocked you out?" How could he forget that? It was humiliating to be bested by a hormonal pregnant girl. "Maybe you should call Emma for help."
Instinctively, Emma's hand flew to her jeans pocket, where her phone was kept, as though it might start buzzing then and there. It remained motionless, but then she remembered that she hadn't silenced the volume on it! If Gold called her cell phone...if it started to ring...
"I shall do that at once," Gold agreed, but he made no attempt to reach for his own phone. It had been his hope that Henry would be satisfied enough to leave, but Henry stayed behind, waiting. What choice did he have to ease the boy's worry and suspicion? "Alright, then. Here I go. Calling Sheriff Swan's cell phone," he said, loudly enough for Emma to get the hint.
Frantically she scrambled for her phone, digging it out of her pocket. It almost crashed on the floor, bouncing clumsily in her palms. She managed to flick the switch and set her phone on vibrate before Gold's call came through. Unfortunately, she just couldn't answer it without Henry hearing her voice. Ignore the woman behind the curtain, she thought.
"Hm...no answer. Ah, well. Perhaps she left her phone on the desk at the station and stepped out for a bear claw," Gold concluded with a shrug. Emma reared back her head in amazement. Was that really all Gold thought she ate at the station? "I suppose I can take a look, Henry, but I guarantee that any intruders will have already escaped out the back door."
Hint, hint.
Emma's eyes strayed to the back door, her only viable means of escape. It led outside, into the alleyway. You've got to be kidding me, she mentally groaned. It was that or stay to be caught-Gold's steps drew closer to the curtain.
It was a good thing the back door didn't have a bell, so Emma easily slipped out. She pressed her back to the wall and gazed up at the swirling gray clouds. It was supposed to rain today. No sooner had she been reminded of the fact than the skies split open and icy pellets poured over her bare head.
Inside the shop, Gold and Henry finished scoping out the back room. No intruders, blonde or otherwise. They returned to the front of the shop and Henry picked out a delicate gold ring with an emerald-green jewel set in the band. Gold gave it to him free of charge and hoped that Emma would like it. The color would set her eyes on fire beautifully.
"Hey, it's raining," Henry pointed out as he prepared to leave. Rivulets of water streamed down over the windows like tears. Gold glanced back at the curtain and prayed that Emma hadn't stayed outside for very long. He let Henry stay until the rain slowed to a light drizzle. "At least the station isn't too far."
And Henry bounded into the street, clutching the black bag that held Emma's gift.
"You can come out now," Gold called out. The rings of the curtain screeched across the pole as Emma shoved it aside.
Oh, she was a sorry sight to behold. Soaked jeans, the dark hems clinging to her boots. A wet white shirt under her jacket that left little to the imagination-she wasn't wearing a bra. Stringy blonde hair plastered to her neck and forehead. A scowl on her face, like a kitten that had been drenched in bathwater.
He couldn't stifle his snicker quick enough.
"Glad you find this amusing," she snapped, narrowing her eyes to slits. Gold opened his arms and Emma begrudgingly walked into them. He didn't care if his suit got wet from her body. Holding her close, he stroked her damp hair away from her red cheeks.
"There, there. I have a towel in the back-in the armoire. You can use it to dry off. In better news, you can expect a wonderful surprise from Henry."
After she toweled off, she was much more pleasant. There was no change of clothes for her, though, unless she wanted to wear one of the fancy, vintage dresses on the rack in the back. Fortunately, the danger had passed-no one would discover their secret today.
"You don't want to tell your boy? About us?" Gold asked. It was only a matter of time before he found out. He knew Emma better than most, so he understood how close she had come to her son. It was difficult for her to keep anything from him.
"I want to...eventually..." She said hesitantly. Too many emotions warred across her face-love, reluctance, uncertainty, fear. How would Henry react if he knew his mother was dating Rumpelstiltskin? Would he embrace it or run away from it? Gold understood her doubt.
"You will, when you're ready," he said.
...
That week, they decided to take their secret dating to the next level and actually try to eat out at a restaurant. Maybe one of these days, they would have the courage to stroll into Granny's together. For now, Gold chose an expensive restaurant on the other side of town.
"Are you sure we should make it so...public?" She spoke into the phone that was wedged between her ear and shoulder. Meanwhile she tossed scraps of clothing from her messy closet, searching for an outfit for the evening. She hardly owned anything fancy.
"Everything will work out. In a place like that, no one will notice you're with me unless we break into song and dance. They'll be too absorbed in their own greedy, pitiful lives."
Gold sounded so confident, but Emma had her doubts. Someone was bound to spot them together, snap a picture, and stuff it under every door in town. All she could muster was a low m-hm for him.
"Besides," he continued, "I would very much like to enjoy one evening with you that does not rely on my place, my shop, or the back of your car, with a menu that isn't limited to Chinese food, toast, and frozen pizzas."
"That's all I know how to make, alright? In case you forgot, I never had a mother to teach me her kitchen secrets, nor did I have access to a television that featured Martha Stewart," she moaned into the phone. She really needed to consider family therapy with Archie.
Her search for evening wear turned up empty. She shuffled through a pile of shirts she hadn't worn since the month she moved in with Mary Margaret. Maybe there was a semi-impressive dress buried at the bottom...
Nope...nope...a-ha! Nope...
"Houston, we have a problem. I need a dress. The only one I have is stained and anyway I can't walk out of here in a dress without those two asking questions. They decided to spend the night in with Chinese food and a movie."
"Climb out the window," he offered. Was it considered pathetic if she actually contemplated it?
"God, I feel like a teenager."
"You can always make it easier on yourself, walk out in a dress, and announce that you're dating me. Make sure to tell them you're not pregnant."
"Right. So Charming can hunt you down with his sword and ruin our evening? Or any chance of a second date? Besides, I'm still not ready. They have this long history with you and every time I bring up your name they complain that you're a twisted, deceitful imp."
"You can't see it, but I'm tracing a halo over my head." Emma snorted. As if he were one hundred percent innocent. She knew him far too well to believe that, even if most of the rumors about his impish nature were outrageous. Eating babies in stew? Seriously?
"I'll have to stop at Modern Fashions," she sighed, scanning the disaster area that had become her room. It looked like her closet threw up all her clothes.
"You can request them to send me the bill, if you wish to have it free," Gold said. Emma swore never to take Gold's card or depend on his wealth. The last thing she wanted to do, when word of their relationship inevitably got out, was to come across like a golddigger. Literally.
"Riddle me this: why would you be buying the Sheriff a dress, Gold?" It was silent on the other end and she could only imagine him with a perplexed frown in place, the wheels spinning in his head as he pondered it over.
"Well...perhaps...I wouldn't," he admitted. Generosity was not a characteristic he was generally known for, not unless a deal was struck first. There were no parties that would require her to dress up, either.
"Exactly. Doesn't appearance mean everything to you? So I'm bringing enough money with me to pay for a simple dress and half the bill." She dumped the cash from her pockets on the bed and counted. It would be cutting it close.
"Absolutely not. Emma whatever-your-middle-name-is Swan, you are not paying for a cent on the bill. It's my gift to you," he protested. Somewhere in the background, she heard a loud whirr. It sounded a lot like a blowdryer.
"For the record, my parents claim that my middle name is Ruth. Second of all, Gold-"
"Emma," he cut her off in a heartbeat. "Or shall I say, Emma Ruth Swan? You're named after your grandmother you know, on Charming's side." She hadn't known that. Her parents had yet to give her the talk about the memories of their parents back in that other land. "Save your money. I have more of it than I know what to do with. This is the first time I'll be spending an evening with you in a real restaurant and I am determined to make it right."
There was no arguing with him when he became passionate about something.
"Are you blowdrying your hair?" The whirring stopped.
"Yes...but pointing out my quirks will not aid you in winning this argument. I'm paying and it's settled." Emma agreed to let it go and returned her cash to her pocket. She was only smug that she was right about the blowdryer. No wonder Gold's hair was soft as a feather.
"See you soon."
"The same to you, Emma Ruth." She desperately hoped that name wouldn't stick. She hung up, shrugged on a jacket for now, and strode out into the kitchen to retrieve her keys.
"Where are you going?" Snow questioned, turning her head away from the television screen. Emma had walked in on them halfway through West Side Story, with Tony and Maria singing to each other about tonight, tonight on the fire escape. She only hoped it wasn't a sign that her date with Gold would end tragically.
"Out," Emma stated.
"Out where?" Now Charming twisted his head around.
"Shopping."
"With who?"
"What's with the interrogation? Can't a full-grown twenty-eight-year-old woman go out shopping by herself without there being some ulterior motive? For all you know, I need a new pair of boots."
Snow and Charming glanced down at her scuffed brown boots, which she had worn since the day she drove into Storybrooke. They were severely damaged by now, one puddle away from falling apart.
"Have fun," they sang simultaneously and turned back to their movie. Note to self, Emma thought as she stomped out of the apartment. Buy a dress...and then new boots to cover my ass.
This secret dating thing was harder than she thought.
...
There was nothing more awkward than walking into a fancy restaurant underdressed, but that was what Emma did. It probably would have been a better idea to change in the car. As it was, she walked in with a white plastic bag with her new dress and shoes tucked inside.
"Good evening, madame. How may I...?" The maitre'd glanced up to greet her and nearly fell off his chair. Not in a good way, either. He scrutinized her worn leather jacket, faded tight jeans, and pitifully scuffed boots, silently judging her for having the nerve to walk into such a place dressed so casually. "Is there a problem, Sheriff?"
The only other implication being that she was lost.
"Depends. Do you consider dinner with the richest man in town to be a problem?" Immediately the maitre'd's attention swiveled from her poor attire to Gold in the back of the restaurant. There he was, in the far corner, toasting her with his glass of wine. He must have been eyeing the door, waiting for her to arrive.
"Very few people claim to enjoy his company," the maitre'd commented. Emma thought he was going to say something else-possibly ask if it was a date or business-but he gestured her to follow him. "Right this way...madame."
The maitre'd escorted her further into the restaurant, navigating around the tables. All the while, she was becoming more aware of her inappropriate attire as several people in fine suits glanced her way. Gold said they wouldn't notice me, she thought. How about now?
All too happily, the maitre'd left her with Gold. Even he was taken aback by her clothing.
"I must have missed the memo. I am far too overdressed," he quipped.
"Shut up. I told you, if I wore a dress and tried to sneak out, I wouldn't have made it to the door before my parents sent me to my room for eternity. I would have changed in the car, but who knew if anyone would pass by and peek in the windows?" Rumor had it that Whale did that on the weekends. "Plus, the last time I changed in the car, I banged my head."
Emma went to the bathroom to change into her dress. When she returned to the table, her old clothes had been stuffed in the bag. In their place was a clean, knee-length snow-white dress with a lace collar of flowers and black heels on her feet. She had tugged her hair back into a ponytail, the curls no longer loose around her shoulders.
Gold looked up from the menu and did a double take.
"Is it too much? Too plain? It was on clearance," she said, shifting uncomfortably.
"No, it's...perfect. You're beautiful. Dazzling." Emma felt warmth rise to her cheeks. No man had ever looked at her the way Gold looked at her now, as if she were a daydream come true. "You clean up rather nicely, Emma."
"I'd say the same about you, except you're always dressed like you walked off the cover of a men's fashion magazine." Gold chuckled. It was a deep, subtle sound and Emma was sure very few people got the chance to hear it.
"Perhaps one of these days, I'll dress down," he said.
"I'd like to see that. No one will recognize you in jeans and a leather jacket." Honestly, she would pay Gold to dress that way for a week. Oh, but his suits did look nice...
"What shall we eat?" Gold opened his menu. There were so many items, some with names she didn't know how to pronounce, and the prices were staggering. And Gold complained that Granny's lasagna was overpriced.
Before she could choose, Gold slapped down his menu and moaned.
"Ah, no. The devil herself walked in," he muttered. Slowly Emma turned in her chair and spotted Regina chewing out the maitre'd. Did she have a date, too? Or was she here to rage at Gold? "If I know Regina, she's only here for one reason: to make someone miserable. I have a feeling that's me. You should hide."
Emma gaped at him.
"Hide where? The bathroom? She'd see me heading across the restaurant and put two and two together. I really don't want her to be the first one to figure out what's going on between us."
There was nowhere else to hide. It wasn't like she could hang from the chandelier. They were doomed-the jig was up. Then a thoughtful look crossed Gold's face. He bent down to lift up the hem of the tablecloth and raised his eyebrows at Emma.
"Oh, no. Don't you even think about it," she warned.
"Well, then, I suppose we'll both be here to greet Madame Mayor...and happily announce our newfound love." Emma chanced another look at Regina. The maitre'd was leading her away from the entrance. Toward them.
"Damn it," Emma hissed and ducked under the table. It was tight fit, very uncomfortable, and she bumped her head trying to get situated. "Ow..."
"Why not lay your head in my lap?" He whispered, his lips barely moving over his gritted teeth. After all, he didn't want to look like he was talking to himself.
"Why don't you try being stuffed under a table?" Emma spat back. He deserved that. His shoe nudged her, warning her to be quiet.
"Mr. Gold," Regina greeted coolly, appearing beside his table. "Or Rumpelstiltskin, whichever name you go by these days. Everyone in this town should be referred to the cricket by now." The maitre'd looked more reluctant to leave Regina than he had with Emma, considering that little black dress she wore. Personally, Gold thought little black dresses were overrated.
"Regina," he greeted just as dangerously. He didn't bother offering her a seat because she helped herself to it anyway. He felt Emma's body move closer to his leg to avoid Regina's. "To what do I owe the displeasure of your company?"
For some reason, Regina studied the table closely. Gold remained still. There was nothing there that betrayed Emma's presence. Nothing...except the second glass of wine. Regina pinched the stem with her fingers.
"Were you expecting someone else? Why two glasses of wine?" Rudely, Regina lifted the glass to her lips and drained the entire glass in one go. Gold's fingers curled into his palm atop the table. That wine was not meant for you.
"If I told you that I always set the table for two, on the off-chance that I can invite a beautiful woman to be my guest, would you believe it? It goes without saying that you're not featured on that list." Regina sneered. There was a shift of material as she crossed her legs. He felt Emma's hand on his knee and ever so stealthily he put his own hand down to take it.
"What's under here?" Regina reached under the table. Gold squeezed Emma's hand. His heart hammered in his chest until Regina dropped the plastic bag containing Emma's clothes on the table. "A change of clothes? Are you starting a food fight?"
If he was, she would be his first target.
"Ah, that," Gold exclaimed. He released Emma's hand. "It turns out that I lost a bet with Miss Swan and now I must dress down." Regina opened the bag wider and sifted through the clothes. A tank top, a leather jacket, tight jeans...
"Really? If I'm not mistaken, these are Emma Swan's clothes."
"They are?" Gold gasped dramatically. Under the table, Emma hung her head. The guy was skilled at many things, but subtlety was not one of them. "Why, that little minx is trying to pull a fast one on me! Tsk-tsk-tsk." He clucked his tongue. He thought he heard a giggle near his knee. "I suppose I should have examined the contents before accepting the bag."
Regina's brows knitted together.
"Yes, overlooking such a crucial detail is unlike you." She took the handle of the bag between her fingers-cautiously, like it was infectious-and dropped it back on the floor. "Now, about our business. This morning I found an odd note from you on my porch. Weighted down with one of my bitten apples. What the hell is this about a purchase from your shop for two hundred dollars?"
Her voice grew shrill and several people turned to look.
"Oh, yes. Didn't I say in the letter? No? You were generous enough to purchase a celebratory gift in honor of Emma's extraordinary achievement in breaking your curse. One exquisitely-crafted gold ring with a magnificent emerald that highlights her eyes."
He hoped Emma took note of that. She had been wearing the ring tonight.
"If not, I'm sure there are plenty of people in this town that would love to have you dumped on their doorstep...and never be found again."
"Are you threatening me?"
"Most definitely." He raised his glass to her and sipped it while Regina fumed. Under the table, Emma was cramped and becoming bored. When would Regina leave so she could rejoin Gold? There was nothing she could do to amuse herself.
Unless...
Payback time, she thought, curling up in front of Gold's legs. If he was going to shove her under a table, the least she could do was enjoy it on her terms.
"I'll have you know that I will not pay for a cent for the savior's trophy! I have been humiliated and tortured enough!" Regina practically shouted.
"On the contrary, dearie, I...I..." Gold prepared to make a witty remark, but the thought fled his mind. That was because he suddenly felt Emma's fingers unlacing his shoe. What was she up to?
He attempted to shake her off, but she persisted. What was worse, Emma managed to steal his shoe, leaving one foot bare except for a sock. He might have pursued her, but Regina watched him like a hawk, forcing him to keep his cool. All he could do was fumble around with his foot.
"Problem, Gold?" Regina taunted.
"No, of course not. I just realized I hadn't tied my shoes as tightly as I thought," he grumbled and searched on blindly for his shoe. Emma retaliated by whipping off his sock and lightly scratching the bottom of his foot. Gods, she was tickling him! "Ha, hoo, hee, um...hm. My apologies. A bit of a cold. He-hem! What was I saying? Oh, yes. On the contrary, dearie, you would not be humiliated enough if you were..."
Emma's fingers lost interest in his foot and played with the buttons of his dress shirt instead. No, not just playing. Unbuttoning. Slowly, starting from the bottom near his belt and working her way up.
Gold felt a wave of heat scorch his neck. What was this woman doing to him? She hadn't even consumed any wine yet! Now a draft bothered his bare skin and Emma's fingers climbed higher. He wiggled in his chair.
"What the hell is wrong with you? Besides the obvious mental and moral issues," Regina barked. Gold stopped dancing, but that only gave Emma the opportunity to walk those troublesome fingers down his exposed stomach.
"The food here...it's...I don't think it agrees with me. Too hot," he said and fanned himself with the menu. It wasn't all for show-Emma was driving him crazy by stroking his thigh.
It was worth it to see Regina's face twist in disgust. Or it would have been if he wasn't so distracted.
"I thought you didn't order yet. Your plate is empty," Regina pointed out.
"Appetizers," Gold replied off the top of his head. He reached down to swat Emma's hand away, but she sank her teeth into his hand. "Yow!" Regina gawked at him like he'd lost his head. "The food does funny things to your bowels. As I was saying...and may I add that I would hope to finish my thought before any other distractions arise...you would not be humiliated enough, Your Majesty, if you were tied naked to your own apple tree while it was dragged through town by the bumper of Emma's car."
There, his witty remark was finally free. He couldn't even appreciate the glittering fury in Regina's eyes because, at the moment, he was more humiliated than she was.
Emma had kindly waited until he was done, but now...oh, gods, no...she went for his belt. Unzipped his pants, which was louder than he thought it would be. This place could use some orchestral music or at least serve people that knew how to carry on a conversation.
"Was that your zipper?" Regina exclaimed.
"No! Don't be ridiculous! Why in the world would I unzip my pants in front of you, even if nature called for it?" Emma finally slid off his belt and her fingers curled over the waistband of his pants, giving it a little tug. Did she mean to yank down his pants in the middle of the restaurant? Or did she have something far more intimate in mind?
"There is nothing you can do to sway me. I refuse to pay for...Gold!" He had reached his hand under the table to capture Emma's. His body squirmed and jiggled violently as he fought with Emma's hand, his lips pressed together in hard determination. Unfortunately, Regina noticed. "You're...you're...you are the sickest little imp that ever crawled through this town! I swear, if you touch me with that hand, I will cut it off! You can have your two hundred dollars-as a bribe to stay away from me! Ugh!"
She leaped up from her chair and stormed out of the restaurant. Gold couldn't say he was sorry to see her go. At last, Emma reclaimed her seat across from him-a much more pleasant sight.
"I never thought she'd leave," she muttered, smoothing down her hair and dress. Gold bent down to find his sock, his shoe, fix his pants, and button his shirt. Then he cradled his sore hand to his chest. He thought he saw Emma's teeth marks.
"You bit me!"
"You stuffed me under a table and way too close to Regina's smelly feet." Gold wrinkled his nose. One day he would have his revenge on her. Some day when they weren't about to enjoy their first night out together. "Just so you know, next time we eat out, I'm picking the place."
...
His got his revenge the following afternoon.
True to her word, Emma chose the spot for their next meal: in the station. It wasn't as public as the fancy restaurant, but they hadn't yet met there in secret since Emma was always nervous someone would walk in unnanounced. Not to mention that David worked there as Emma's Deputy. Who knew when her father would come and go?
In other words, they were tempting fate just by meeting there together.
This time, Emma ordered only one sandwich and divided it between her and Gold. She couldn't use Henry for an excuse again, because she knew for a fact that Henry would be joining Mary Margaret and David that same afternoon for lunch at Granny's. They had invited her, too, but she claimed she had paperwork to do.
If paperwork roughly translated to splitting a ham sandwich with Gold.
"At last, I get to share half a sandwich with you and I didn't waste my favor for it," Gold said and took a generous bite out of his half.
"Nor were you put behind bars for beating someone with your cane," she added. That time it had been under unfavorable circumstances. "Don't worry. If someone walks in, I'll hurry and lock you in a cell. I'll say that you and Regina fought last night. Technically, it's not a lie."
"What if it's Regina?"
"You got a little too close to me with that cane. I bit your hand and shoved you in the jail cell until further notice."
Gold examined his hand, which still faintly bore Emma's teeth marks. He even had it checked by Whale to make sure it was clean, with the excuse that Pongo bit him. It was no wonder Whale asked follow-up questions-Emma had never even seen Pongo bark ferociously at a cat, let alone bite someone.
"How exactly will you convince me to be shoved inside that cell? I'm much stronger than I look," Gold argued.
"I have my ways. For starters, I'll steal your cane to lure you in there. If that doesn't work, I'll tempt you with ice cream and kisses until you have no choice but to follow me in there because that's the only bed available and I will run out before you can catch me."
He nodded inquisitively.
"I have an even better alternative. You, me, and this desk. No beds needed, which means I avoid being accidentally or purposely locked inside a cell." Naturally, the suggestion startled Emma and she dropped her sandwich on the same desk that he had referred to for intense pleasure.
"Why do you have to be so difficult?" She blurted angrily. The corners of Gold's mouth rose.
"It amuses me when you're worked up." She furrowed her brows, which made his grin stretch wider. He reached up with his finger to smooth out the crease in her brow. "I guarantee there shall be no distractions."
The entrance door opened and closed. Heavy footsteps treaded down the hall. Emma and Gold froze with their sandwiches still in hand, thinking the same thing: spoke too soon.
"Emma?" David's voice called out from the hall, headed their way. Emma's eyes flew open wide.
"Get in the jail cell," she whispered to Gold.
"No! I have spent enough time imprisoned in that other land!"
"Then get under the desk!"
"How am I to fit down there?"
"Fine! Then you can be the one to tell David-you know, the guy with the sword-that we're dating! Get down, get down!" Gold flung down his half of the sandwich and crawled under Emma's desk. Right between her legs. There was a loud thump! and the sandwiches jumped. "Watch your head!"
"Too late," Gold hissed back, but Emma kicked him in the side as David walked into the room. His ocean blue eyes peered around at the cells before landing on her desk. He had that look-like he was onto something-but Emma struggled to keep her smile in place.
"What's up?" She asked, folding her hands neatly on top of the desk. It was an awkward, stiff position, but she hoped to shield Gold from view if David got too close.
"Hello, Emma. Was there...someone else in here? I could have sworn I heard voices." He glanced around again, as if expecting someone to pop their head around the corner. Emma tensed.
"Voices? Right. I was...talking to myself. I read the paperwork in different voices-to keep myself entertained. You know, sometimes I even practice my accents. Otherwise, I'd lose my mind with boredom." Just to demonstrate, she picked up the first paper on the stack and read it in a weak British accent. David winced. "I admit, it could use a bit of work."
She thought she heard a giggle between her legs and kicked Gold again.
"Okay...but I thought I heard a man's voice. Really deep, quiet, but strained...it acutally reminded me of Gold's voice," David said, stepping closer to the desk. Emma dared to scoot her chair closer, even if it made Gold feel more cramped down there.
"Oh, I was practicing on imitating his accent. Yeah...top o' the mornin' to ya, dearie. See?" David gave Emma a strange look when she tried to pull off a Scottish accent. Even she cringed. Under the desk, Gold buried his head in her lap, probably to stifle his laughter.
"That must have been it," David said unconvincingly. "Why are there two sandwiches, though?" He pointed to the discarded sandwiches on the desk. Emma paled.
"Well...I get hungry, too. It's a natural bodily impulse. I ordered myself a sandwich before I started in on the paperwork."
"But they're both bitten," he said.
"I'm eating both halves at the same time. So I can save time." She lifted up her sandwich, took a bite, and swallowed. Then she did the same with Gold's half.
Of course she was still chewing when Gold decided to get his revenge. With her mouth still bursting full, she felt Gold run his hand along her inner thigh, caressing it. Instantly she began to cough on her sandwich.
"Emma, are you alright?" David charged forward, but she held up a hand, warning him to stop. Somehow she managed to gulp it down safely, though tears stung her eyes.
"I'm fine. Went down the wrong way. He-hem. So, what brings you here?" Maybe Gold would get the hint and not take any risks in front of David.
"You know I met Snow and Henry for lunch. They all wanted me to send you their love, by the way. It was nice, but I couldn't help remembering that you were here, stuck with paperwork. So I decided I would help you sort it out and then we can all take a walk along the harbor, as a family. What do you think?"
"I think..."
Beneath the desk, Gold waved his hand. Unlike Emma, he had magic at his immediate disposal. Powerful, experienced magic that worked at the very flick of his wrist and the measure of his will. So he exchanged the obstacle of her tight blue jeans with a denim skirt.
Luckily, David could not see anything below her waist, but Emma felt the draft on her bare legs and thighs. She held her breath and formed a fist on the desk. She was tempted to look, but kept her gaze firmly on David.
"Um...I think..." She couldn't form a single coherent thought. Not while Gold pressed his lips to her ankles, her knees, her thighs, spreading gentle kisses across her now exposed skin.
"Emma?" David said, growing worried as she failed to respond. Heat burst inside her cheeks as Gold edged her legs apart to kiss deeper along her thighs. She was sure David noticed the blush.
"Yeah, I'm...I'm not feeling very good. I think I might be coming down with a fever and my head is dizzy." That much was true. Her thoughts spun around her head, making no sense at all, every ounce of her attention saved for Gold's lips on her skin. Having Gold between her legs destroyed any chance she had of thinking logically.
"In that case, why don't you go home and rest? Let Snow make you some cocoa. I'll finish the paperwork. Here-let me in behind the desk." He started to circle around. Even Gold paused now. Emma panicked and, while Gold pressed his face between her legs, one last daring pleasure, she quickly closed them tightly and squeezed his face.
"Gah!" He cried out. She was afraid David heard that, so she erupted into a string of fake coughs.
"Gah-ho-hoo-ha-hem! See? I'm getting worse by the second! You know what I really need is a bear claw! Would you run down to Granny's and get one for me?" She asked sweetly. David stopped at the corner of the desk. He was so close. If he urged her back from the desk, surely he would find Gold, mysteriously crouched under the desk with his face between Emma's legs.
"A bear claw? How will that help-"
"Trust me; it'll help," she interrupted. "They're my favorite. It might make me feel better. Please?" David scrutinized Emma, silently debating over her demand. She was his only daughter, and this could win him points in the parental department.
"Okay. I'll run down to Granny's to get you a bear claw-and a cup of hot cocoa. Then you're going home to rest. Got it?" Emma nodded eagerly. Anything to get him out of there so Gold could sneak out.
"Thank you," she said and David smiled. Once he was gone and she counted off two extra minutes to make sure he wouldn't be back, Emma scooted back her chair and let Gold out. His face was red, probably from the way she squeezed his face, and he gasped for air. "Don't you ever put me in a skirt again!"
Gold reluctantly changed her back into her jeans. Despite the rough treatment he earned, he grinned.
"Now we're even."
...
It was time.
It wasn't something they had thoroughly discussed and planned out with visual demonstrations, but they both felt it. They wanted to take their relationship to the next level. They were going to make love.
Once they had more or less agreed on that, they needed to find a place of secrecy and consummation. Or a love nest, if one listened to Gold. The most obvious place was the cabin in the woods, where no one would find them or hear them scream, but Gold insisted that it was too inconvenient to drive all the way into the heart of the woods with thoughts of making love at the front of their minds.
So he suggested his place, but Emma shook her head on that, too. While his bed would be perfect for their first time, she wouldn't be able to park her car outside his house at night without arousing suspicion. And what if someone spotted her going in and out? Why would she ever go to his house unless it was for an intimate reason? Or if it was being broken into? They would need a suspect to pull off that story.
In the end, they settled on the back room of his shop. Thankfully, it had a bed. It wasn't as luxurious as a king-size or even a queen, but it would get the job done.
Now all that was left, as they stood side by side in the back, fully-clothed, staring intently at the bed, was to figure out how to get started. They sort of...met up there with the expectation of making love, like showing up for a dentist's appointment. It had been a long time since either of them had been intimate with anyone else, so naturally they exchanged a shy glance, a caress here and there, but had yet to feel the blaze of passionate fire.
"So."
"So," Gold repeated.
"How do we go about...doing this?" She motioned to the bed. It was strange-she had never really been nervous around other men before, but Gold was not like most men. Perhaps it was because he turned out to be the one she cared for most, the one she genuinely wanted to keep.
"We follow the standard procedure," he replied, standing rigid before the bed. Was he as nervous and excited as she was? "You and I share a kiss, it deepens, we desperately strip each other of clothes, we climb into the bed, and we...do it."
He made it sound simple. Emma was sure there was supposed to be less logic, more emotion in there.
"Okay," she said hesitantly. At last, they turned to each other and Gold held out his hand in request of hers. She took it and let him reel her in, close to his chest. Their mouths hovered a mere inch apart, warm breath tickling their skin.
It all started with a kiss.
Gold bent his head down; Emma tipped her chin up.
Their lips brushed. Emma sucked in her breath, her nerves tingling. One of them had to make the next move, so she grasped his shoulders and kissed him harder. She could tell he was surprised by the way his mouth freely opened to her, but then she felt his hand pressed to the small of her back and his lips returned her kiss. It was sweet, it was heady, just like their kisses often were...but it was also uncertain. They had yet to move from sweet to passionate, from where they stood in the middle of the room to the act of laying together in that bed.
Maybe they were trying too hard.
Emma stopped.
"What's wrong?" he asked and stroked her cheek.
"Nothing's...wrong. It's just...it's hard to do it when I'm thinking so much about doing it." That was the problem-her brain refused to switch off. She kept thinking about the impending intimacy she would share with Gold, how it might feel, how it would change their relationship forever, whether she could satisfy him. "It's been a long time since I've done this," she admitted.
"Me, too."
"Ten years."
"If you count the curse...about seventy years."
"Seventy?" She exclaimed. She kept forgetting that Gold was older than he looked, not to mention that the curse had stolen three decades of life from these people. Three decades of memories, both old and new, of experiences, of love.
"Seventy. Give or take," he said with a shrug.
"You win," Emma announced, her eyebrows soaring. Gold gave a dry chuckle. He rubbed her shoulders. It was relaxing.
"Are you sure you wish to do this?" He inquired.
"Yes," she answered in a heartbeat. "Do you?"
"Yes. Perhaps we shouldn't overthink this. We are two people secretly dating and are ready to take our intimacy to the next level. Right?" Emma nodded. "It might be easier if we sit down on the bed."
"Okay."
Together they perched on the edge of the bed, hands clasped. They leaned in to kiss again. Tentatively, Gold reached up to cup her cheek. Her hand fumbled over his chest and settled on his thigh. She heard his sharp intake.
"Sorry, I was-"
"No, it's alright." He trapped her hand there, on his thigh.
He leaned in again and softly kissed her jaw. Then his lips moved to the curve of her neck, down to her shoulder. Emma wrapped her arms around him to pull him in, her fingers weaving through his hair...but she was still thinking much too hard.
"Maybe we should lie down together," she suggested. That might ignite the fire faster. So they removed their shoes and stretched across the bed, facing one another, cuddling closely. Emma unraveled his tie and popped open his shirt-just the way she liked. She dipped her head and kissed his chest.
To her satisfaction, he moaned. It was the precise sound she needed to get going. She pushed him back on the bed and straddled his hips, her kisses peppering his chest. His head sank back onto the pillow and a blissful smile crossed his face.
It was time.
They were ready to do this...
Teetering on the edge...
The sound of a bell made them pause. The only bell in his shop was...the front door...Their eyes widened and they froze like statues, a painting of lovers embracing, unable to come or go as a pattern of footfalls entered the shop. Light, quick.
"Rump? Anyone home?" Someone called out loudly. Red. Even though Red was not as inappropriate and bold as Red, she still had her impulsive moments. In fact, those steps came closer, moving deeper into the shop. They had to act fast. "Rump, I know you're here-I can smell your cologne. Actually, I'm choking on it."
Emma opened her mouth to say something, but Gold pressed his finger to her lips, begging her to be silent. With his other hand, he pointed to his ear, and that was when she remembered: he once told her that Red maintained her wolf traits of excellent hearing and scent.
Ever so cautiously, Emma crept off Gold and the bed. Gold followed behind, though it wasn't as difficult for him to stay quiet on his feet since he was a natural at it. From the desk, he picked up a sheaf of paper and a pen and gestured the act of writing so Emma would understand. There was no other way for them to communicate except charades.
Were you expecting her? Emma wrote furiously. Gold's eyes melted.
Of course not! I wish to make love to you, not a half-breed! Emma would have hit him for that insult, if the sound of her hand upon his flesh did not make so much noise.
I didn't mean sexually! I meant in general! She scribbled back. Gold shook his head. Let me guess: I should hide? Her sarcasm was tough to swallow even in written form. He shrugged.
Unless you think we should come clean. Her face scrunched in frustration. Even if they wanted to admit the truth to the world, even shout it from the rooftops, leaking it to the gossipmonger of Storybrooke seemed like a risky way to go.
Damn these interruptions!
Hide in the armoire! He suggested with a touch of urgency. He pointed to the black wardrobe in the corner. It was where he kept most of his own personal things, like extra suits and valuable magical artifacts that were not for sale. Emma regarded it with disgust.
Wait a minute. My parents sent me through a wardrobe. Now you want to do the same thing? Am I being shipped to Narnia next?
At least you have experience! Quick-she's coming!
Through the curtain, they could hear the footsteps wandering closer. Emma tossed down the pen and padded to the wardrobe. Gold had the sense to flip over the pages that carried their written conversation. The doors of the wardrobe closed firmly with a click before the curtain swept aside. Emma's ear pressed to the door to listen, though she was distracted by her stiff position. Bent sharply at the knees, head bumping against the underside of a shelf, hands against the walls of the wardrobe to hold her up.
Now I sort of wish this was the magical wardrobe that led to Narnia. There'd be more room, she thought.
"There you are, Rump. Bout time," Red scolded. Her heels tapped across the floor as she neared Gold's desk.
"How many times have I told you not to call me that absurd name?" Gold complained loudly. "It's Rumpelstiltskin. It's Rumpel for short. Perhaps, if shortened still, it's Rum, but it's never Rum-p! Call me that again and I shall have a silver stake at the ready."
Red rolled her eyes, as if she didn't quite believe his threat. That sort of ignorance only made his nostrils flare. Suddenly her head tilted.
"Hey, you're not wearing a tie."
Gold glanced down. It was true: his tie was gone. His shirt was open and slightly creased from the way Emma had pulled at it. His tie currently lay crumpled on the bed, forgotten until this very moment. It was all Emma's fault.
"Um...I...I'm experimenting. Trying out a new style. What do you think?" He even went as far as to pop another button to expose more skin, as though it had really been his idea. Red shifted her head this way and that, tapping her chin with her finger, contemplating.
"I like it. It's daring. You should do it more often. Maybe then you'll turn heads on the street for a reason other than fear," she said with a wink. Gold frowned. With Red eyeing his chest so closely, he longed to cover up. The only woman he enjoyed to be visually devoured by was Emma. "So I need my cloak back. Full moon is coming-you know, my special time of the month. I'd prefer it without some stupid extra charge since it was mine in the first place. Hand it over."
She stretched out her hand for it.
"First," Gold stated, holding up a finger, "the cloak was mine long before it was yours. And I don't mean mine as in I made it, I mean mine as in my personal use, on my own body, carrying my hairs and germs. I used to wear it in public for disguise...so you might want to watch your back for future reference." Red's lip curled. "Second, if you still want it after hearing that, then I suggest you look elsewhere. I'm afraid I can't hand it over because it's not here."
"Oh, come on," Red groaned. "It has to be somewhere in here. This place is like a junkyard for all magical things. I don't know where else to look!"
"Might I suggest the nearest kennel?" He quipped. Red's hands formed fists by her sides and she stuck out her tongue childishly. "Careful, dearie. I'll take it. Ask the good Sheriff of Nottingham." There was a reason the man couldn't speak well these days.
Red impatiently waved him aside and surveyed the shop. She huffed in annoyance when she didn't find what she was looking for. She spied the bed and paused.
"These sheets are really rumpled...no pun intended. Did you have someone over?" Red offered him a knowing smile. Gold hoped he didn't look as panicked as he felt. He struggled not to look toward the wardrobe, where Emma was hidden.
"Don't be silly. Who would I invite into the back room of my shop? I was taking a peaceful nap until you showed up. Explains my shoes, too," he said quickly. Red hadn't yet noticed his socks. In his attempt to cover his story, he gestured to his shoes on the floor and realized with a start that Emma's boots were there, too. Red followed his finger and her eyebrows rose.
"Huh," she mused, planting her hands on her hips. "I could swear those were Emma's boots. I never forget an outfit." In the closet, Emma sank her head into her hand. She knew she had forgotten something! "Why would Emma's shoes be here?"
"Well, of course they're Emma's," Gold said and Emma's blood ran cold. Was he actually going to give up the game? Reveal her presence in the closet? That traitor! She may as well take charge and come out herself..."She came in earlier today demanding new boots. She claimed she did not wish to pay the prices at Modern Fashions and she felt I owed it to her for everything I've done to her with the curse. So I granted her wish. I was going to try to shine those up and store them with the rack of dresses over there."
Thankfully, those boots were her old battered ones. She hadn't really broken in the new ones yet. Just like with Gold's money, she rarely accepted his magic, either, even if he claimed he was happy enough to grant her wishes.
"Uh-huh," Red said, sounding quite unconvinced. "You know, I can smell her perfume, too..."
Emma was too aware of her perfume at that moment, wondering if it would lead Red straight to her. Normally she wasn't the perfume type, but she wanted to make it special for Gold. Red lifted her nose in the air and wandered toward the wardrobe. Gold bristled with alarm.
"What you want is not here, so I suggest you leave right now," he said irritably. Yet Red took one step closer to the wardrobe. He flicked his wrist and she sneezed. Then her head jolted forward and she sneezed again. Again and again. Good luck tracking anything now, he thought slyly.
"Wha-a-choo! What's wrong with me? It's like-a-choo! All of a sudden, I'm sneezing! I-a-choo! I need air." Red kept sneezing all the way out the door. Maybe she would chalk it up to allergies or the dust in his shop. Maybe she would come back with a vengeance if she figured out he had a hand in it. Either way, she was gone for now.
With a sigh, Gold flung open the doors and released Emma. She tumbled out in a heap. When she finally stood, it was slow and stiff, her fingers massaging the ache from her neck. Gold lent her a hand in that task, soothingly massaging her neck and shoulders. Then she moaned for a different reason completely-bliss, not soreness.
"That was close," Emma murmured. Gold nodded. She had no idea just how close it was. "Question: when Henry almost found me in your shop this week...why couldn't I hide in the closet then? Instead of being stuck in the rain?"
"Well, I..." Gold mulled it over. "Interesting. I suppose you could have done that. Oops."
"Gold!"
...
Their lucky break came that weekend when Mary Margaret and David decided to spend an evening out together. Henry was given permission to spend some time with Grace and so even he was out of the house for the moment. Emma waited five minutes before picking up the phone and dialing Gold's number.
"Evening, sweetheart," his silky voice slithered through her ear like rich caramel and made even her toes tingle with excitement. "What can I do for you?"
"For starters? You can get your fancy butt over here and entertain me because they went out to Granny's." She practically squealed that last part, astounded by it as she was. Of course, she wasn't surprised that Mary Margaret and David would enjoy a night out together, only by the fact that she had gotten so lucky in having the apartment to herself. Gold, however, was his usual meticulous self.
"How long ago, precisely?"
"Five minutes ago. Oh, you said precisely. Let's see...six minutes...thirty-seven seconds...thirty-eight, thirty-nine-forty-"
"Very funny," he said, minus the humor. Emma smiled proudly. She liked teasing him about his affinity for wordplay, especially since he would not allow it from anyone else. "I'd promise you that I'll be there at your door before you hang up the phone, but that would be impossible."
"Or just plain creepy," she added. In fact, she wandered to the window and peered out, just to make sure Gold's car wasn't in the neighborhood. Or Gold himself standing on the street holding up a boombox. "By the way, I might have a surprise for you if you hurry."
"A surprise? You know I don't fancy surprises. Hm...I don't have a surprise for you. It'd be rude of me to show up without some form of reciprocation. Ooh, I know-I'll bring the wine and you bring...whatever it is you have for me."
"Trust me; you'll like this surprise," she said, grinning mischievously.
After their call ended, she didn't have to wait too long to hear a knock on the door. She began to wonder if Gold really was observing their apartment, just in case the perfect opportunity arose. She checked herself over in the bathroom mirror and then hurried to let Gold in.
"As I promised: the freshest bottle of wine made by my own hand," Gold said, holding up a bottle. He had been examining it carefully and tasting it for himself right from the bottle. When he turned to behold Emma, however, the bottle slipped from his grasp and shattered on the floor. Wine spread everywhere and a few drops even splattered Emma's bare ankles.
"Either you're repulsed or you really, really like it," she said, smoothing down her skirt. In answer, Gold's mouth fell open soundlessly. She had stopped at Modern Fashions again and found the perfect dress to knock Gold off his feet-a sleek, skin-tight black leather dress.
"I...I..." Gold stammered. His brain kick-started again and he closed his mouth. "I have realized that I am in serious danger of falling in love with you. You are my kind of woman."
He took her hand and led her into his arms. His hands found her leather-clad hips and he kissed her lips. With a flourish of his hand, the bottle came together again, the shards flying together like a video on rewind, every last drop collected inside.
Emma invited him in and collected two wine glasses from the cupboard. Gold used his magic to light a dozen candles to set the mood. Together they curled up on the couch, with Emma's head comfortably on his shoulder, and talked. They talked of their time together, their time apart, of Henry, of Gold's extraordinary magic, of future plans. It was peaceful.
At some point, they always came back to the same question.
"Do you think we should tell them? About us?" Emma asked and took another small sip of her wine. Gold did the same and caressed her hip while pondering his answer.
"Are you ready to tell Storybrooke that you're romantically involved with me?" He made it sound like a curse. In his mind, it might as well be. Every woman he loved had left him. Emma swore not to hurt him that way, if she could help it.
"Let's see...I've been stuffed under a table, drenched with rainwater, and stowed away in your wardrobe...I think I'm ready." Gold snickered at that. They had been hiding for too long. It was exhausting. "You know what? Maybe we shouldn't care what they think. I've enjoyed spending time with you. I think...I've even started to fall in love with you. So let's tell them."
The relief in Gold's eyes was heartbreaking.
"I'm falling for you, too," he admitted.
It was too hard to resist. They came together with a promising kiss. This time, it felt natural and she was quickly swept away by it. At least they had the sense to put down their glasses of wine before they continued. Then he guided Emma onto his lap, their kiss deepening, and his hand stroking her thigh, daring to slip up the hem of her dress...
"We should...head for the bedroom..." she said breathlessly. He nodded his agreement, his mouth too busy sucking on a soft patch of skin in the crook of her neck. Marking her for his own.
Emma dazedly crawled off his lap and, taking his hand, led him to her bedroom. She made sure to close the door, just in case. They couldn't keep their hands off each other after that. Gone was Gold's tie, shoes, jacket, all the while their kiss never breaking...at least until Emma guided him down to the bed. With hungry intent, she mounted him and began prying his shirt open. Her name was a delicious whimper on his lips. His fingers reached up to pull down the zipper on the back of her dress...
A key turned in the lock of the front door. The door opened and two sets of footsteps entered the apartment. David and Mary Margaret's voices floated under her door. Emma froze, still on top of Gold. He stared up at her in growing anxiousness.
"Emma," he whispered, his voice thick with lust. She held up a hand.
"Sh, sh, sh! They're home!"
"You said they weren't coming back so early!"
"I don't know! Maybe one of them got sick or they changed their minds...Sh!" She rolled off of him and listened to the pattern of footsteps beyond her door.
"Emma?" Mary Margaret called out. One set of footsteps quickened toward her door, too light to belong to David. Emma slapped Gold's shoulder, pushing him to the edge of the bed.
"I think Mary Margaret's coming! Your turn; hide in the closet." She steered him away to the other side of the room. Maybe it was fate that she had cleaned out her closet earlier that week. Unfortunately, Gold dug in his heels. Stubborn man.
"I thought you wanted to tell them about us." When she let go of his hand, he formed a heart over his chest.
"You want their first impression to be of us in bed together? I meant we'd meet peacefully and presentably at Granny's Diner! Now get in the closet! Or do I have to tie you up?"
"If you like that sort of thing," he taunted. Emma opened the closet door and shoved him inside. She tossed his shoes and jacket in with him. Then she held a finger to her lips, warning him to be silent, and closed the door tightly. She quickly stripped off the leather dress and yanked on a tank top.
Someone knocked on her door.
"Emma?" Mary Margaret called, confirming Emma's suspicions.
"Coming!" She whirled to make sure the closet was still closed-Gold had better not peek. She checked her clothes and wiped off her make-up. When she was confident there was no sign of Gold on her, she opened her bedroom door and came face-to-face with Mary Margaret.
"Hey," she said, poking her head around the door.
"Hey," Mary Margaret repeated, all the while trying to sneak a glance into her room. It must have looked odd to have the door so minimally cracked. Emma opened it wider. No need to worry-Gold was in the closet. "We decided to spend the night in, after all. Why pay for a movie when we can watch one at home? Emma, why are you so flushed? Are you getting sick again?"
Emma felt her cheeks. They were blazing.
"Um...yes. It's round two of that awful fever." She coughed into her hand. It was hard to tell if Mary Margaret bought it or not, her pink lips drawing into a line. "I don't want to disturb your evening. You two enjoy your movie."
"Nonsense! If you're not feeling good, at least let me make you a cup of hot cocoa," Mary Margaret insisted.
"Really, I'm fine. I just need sleep." Emma ushered Mary Margaret away from the door and closed it. Her footsteps didn't move away, which deeply concerned Emma. Had she suspected something?
"Can I come out yet? There's a funny smell in here I can't quite place," Gold whispered, poking his head out from the closet. Emma spun and flapped her hand, urging him to hide again. Mary Margaret wasn't gone yet-what if she decided to come back in?
"Sh!"
"One question: if they're staying in, how do I get out?" Emma hadn't thought of that. It would almost be worth it to see her parents' faces if Gold strolled out of her bedroom and left. Her eyes swiveled to the window.
"How good are you at climbing from windows?" Before Gold could reply, or perhaps mock her for that little tease, there was another knock on her door. Mary Margaret again. Gold frowned in annoyance and returned to the closet.
"By the way," Mary Margaret said when Emma opened the door again, "tell Mr. Gold he's free to use the front door whenever you two are finished." Emma's hand completely fell from the door, allowing it to swing wide open. Her mouth dropped and all color fled her cheeks.
"How did you-?" Mary Margaret smiled wisely.
"Actually, I wasn't one hundred percent certain before, but now I am. Not only did you confirm it now, but Red mentioned that Gold had been acting very strange when she went to his shop. She smelled your perfume and saw your old boots. According to Gold, you demanded new ones, but I saw your new boots from Modern Fashions the other day. It doesn't make sense for you to have two stories unless there's something you're trying to hide."
Emma glanced down at her feet, but at least those boots were not there for show.
"I-"
"Also, two glasses of wine, Emma," she noted. Emma squeezed her eyes shut, cursing herself for that sloppy mistake. It was the same way she knew Mary Margaret had been seeing David during the curse. "One more thing, you have something...there...on your neck..."
Mary Margaret touched her own neck, indicating the spot. Emma hurried to her mirror and examined her neck. In horror, she noticed Gold's love bite. Of course, that was when they had agreed to be open about their relationship.
"Okay, yeah, I'm...secretly dating Gold. There, satisfied? He's in the closet as we speak. Still completely dressed, I swear. Are you...okay with that?" Mary Margaret's shoulders sagged. She stepped forward and embraced Emma warmly. Emma, who did not enjoy hugs often, stood there awkwardly.
"Am I okay with that? Of course I am. Emma, your father and I may have our own personal issues with Gold, but if he turns out to be the one that makes you happy, or the one you're meant to be with, it wouldn't be fair of me to stand in your way. You don't have to keep secrets from me," she assured her. And Emma felt slightly better knowing it. "However, I'll let you two tell your father. I have a feeling he'll need more time to get used to it."
After Mary Margaret was gone, off to spend her evening in with David, Emma released Gold from the closet. He had his nose pinched between his fingers. She sniffed, but she didn't smell anything funny.
With his nose still pinched, he said: "Well, that certainly killed the mood."
...
A/N: I would like to take a moment to thank those that have reviewed recently; I'm always grateful for those words of encouragement: 1994omi, Grace5231973, Relliurad, Princess Milexi, orthankg1, KattMonster5, and Moma bear Emma Swan.