He moved his dagger the following Thursday, a week after he'd been caught, on Thanksgiving afternoon when he could be certain Regina was busy with Henry. Not that it was a terribly difficult task this time around. In fact, he'd spent practically the entire week figuring out the perfect spot to bury it out by his cabin. He'd had time to do it, felt comfortable waiting, all because of one fact.

Sheriff Graham was dead.

It had happened on the same day that he'd spotted him burying the dagger. That very night. Whether or not he'd told Regina he saw him that morning was unclear, but after hearing the report from Dove, who was still watching Emma, he felt confident enough that he hadn't had the time and there had never been the place. Emma had run into Graham that afternoon. They'd followed a white wolf, a real wolf, around town before going to the cemetery and sneaking into the Mills Mausoleum. When they'd come out, Emma and Regina had engaged in some sort of argument which Dove couldn't hear, but he confirmed that they'd both taken swipes at one another. He hadn't seen Regina leave, but Graham had left with Emma. They'd gone to the police station. And there, less than an hour later, Emma had frantically called the paramedics saying that Sheriff Graham had collapsed. Dove couldn't confirm, but the rumor was that by the time they'd shown up, Emma had been the one to tell them that he was dead.

The funeral was ill-planned because of the Thanksgiving Holiday Regina had scheduled it for the Sunday afterward. When he arrived, it was standing room only. The only way he'd gotten a seat was by walking over to Belle's father, sitting on the end of a row toward the back, and motioned to his leg with a smile. "You know…cane," was all he had to say before the man grumbled out a sigh and resigned his seat to him. He didn't say another word, not even as he mentioned that his loan was coming due, and he was looking forward to doing business with the man who had killed his true love…though he might have left off that last little fact. Crowded as it was, the others in the row made plenty of room for him.

It felt like nearly half the town was packed into the tiny funeral parlor room. It figured. Regina had planned the service. Since he'd had no family, she'd seen it as her mayorly duty to make the arrangements. It figured that someone like her would have assumed that she'd be the only one to attend instead of considering the town that Graham kept safe and in order throughout the Curse. The former Evil Queen tried to maintain a façade of responsibility and valor, but he could see how his pupil swallowed hard, the way she blinked too frequently and dabbed at her eyes. If he didn't know any better, he'd think the poor girl had actually cared for the man, maybe even convinced herself that he cared for her. Magic and hearts and love…it was first and foremost messy stuff. He thought he'd taught her that.

To her credit, Emma Swan did not cry, but it was clear that she was affected by the Sheriff's death. She'd been with him when it happened at the police station, so it was ridiculous to think that she wouldn't be affected. And though he'd heard that she'd cried plenty that night, she didn't shed a single tear now. Sitting next to Mary Margaret, she stared straight ahead at the various speakers, unmoving except for the occasional blink. At one point, Mary Margaret had put her hand over her daughter's. Emma had winced at the contact, but when she looked over in her direction Mary Margaret smiled at her, and she'd managed to muster a half-hearted one before turning back to the service. Whether or not they knew they were mother and daughter, the connection they were starting to share was, without doubt, growing stronger by the day. Sad as all this was, that was positive thought.

He didn't stay for the reception, which he was sure, given the service, would lack both space and food. No, he didn't stay because he had work to do. Or rather work to oversee. Across town, he'd hired Dove and a few of his cousins to "clean out" Sheriff Graham's apartment. Though, of course, that was only half of it. In actuality, they'd been hired to comb through the apartment and locate any personal possessions and collect them for him to pick up.

Painful as it was, life went on. Life had to go on because this small town had been stuck in a rut for far too long. Not that he cared about anyone else but his boy, but he also knew that keeping this town moving forward was the only way to prevent more useless, wasteful death. And after watching Emma, who had dutifully been acting as deputy all this time, he was already working on the next steps in a new plan.

"This is it?" he questioned as Dove brought a single cardboard box to him and set it on the small coffee table in front of the equally tiny couch. "One box?"

Dove shrugged. "There wasn't really much to find. The apartment is fully furnished but not much of a home. He was married to his job, it seemed, so we didn't find many personal items. Guy didn't have any family, so no pictures or anything sentimental. Unless, of course, you found someone?"

Ah yes, when he'd explained the job to Dove, he'd told him it was because he was going to search for someone related to the man to take his possessions. The honest truth was that he hadn't even bothered trying. Dove was right. The man had no family; none with two legs that would appreciate any of his knick-knacks anyway. The Evil Queen's Huntsman had practically been raised by wolves, and since she'd wanted him to herself...she hadn't given him a family in the Curse. He was alone, even when he was with her. A lone wolf through and through.

"It seems our former Sheriff was a genuine man. What you saw was what there was. He had no family."

"Well…that's too bad. But this is it. Other than the clothes which we either donated or threw out, this was really all that was left of him. Given the circumstances, I'd ask if you wanted me to take these to the local pawn shop but seeing as how that's also you-"

"It's a job well done, Mr. Dove," he interrupted, peering into the box to look over what they had found. One item, in particular, stood out. It was a leather jacket, not the type that Emma Swan appeared to fancy but….

"I thought you donated or threw the clothes away."

"It was his favorite jacket, Sir," one of Dove's cousin's answered from somewhere behind him.

"That's Marc," Dove explained. "He played darts with Graham every Monday night."

"He wore it everywhere, Sir," Marc insisted sadly. "It's not really…ordinary. Remy said you wanted keepsakes…"

And so it appeared he'd gotten keepsakes. Some more helpful than others. Now that he was looking, he did see a dartboard with several darts bundled together in a coffee cup at the bottom. That was certainly not something he needed. In a rare moment of pity, he removed the board and darts and held them out for Marc. "I think these will have a happier home with you."

Marc took a breath, then turned red as he reached out and took them. "Thank you, Sir," he choked out.

"So what now?" Dove asked as his cousin looked the items over, and he saw him wipe his eyes on the back of his hand.

"Now the apartment is professionally cleaned, carpets and surfaces will be replaced, and it'll be rented out again. You know how this goes, Mr. Dove. Out with the old, in with the new."

"Rented out, wait…doesn't the Sheriff job come with the apartment? What about the new girl? Emma. She's only the deputy, but she's been acting as sheriff since he died? Shouldn't she be promoted? Shouldn't she move in?"

"I'd rather keep all that quiet for now," he smiled. Though that wasn't exactly in the cards, for now, it was reassuring that was where Dove's head had immediately gone for the future of the Sheriff. "She can't formally take the position until two weeks after it's vacated. As for the apartment when she does…well…you've been watching her Dove, does she seem the type to want to live in her dead former employer's apartment."

"Not particularly, but…Mary Margaret's place isn't exactly big."

"But it's not small either. No, I'd like to keep her where she's at. When she takes the job, we can keep her at salary instead of taking out for an apartment."

"And the box?"

"I think I'll hold on to it for a bit. You never know when it might come in handy."

"But, Sir-"

"Don't ask questions!" Dove shouted at another of his cousins. The corner of his own mouth twitched. It seemed that Dove had indeed learned his lesson. It seemed he might have even enjoyed the power trip that came from being in his employ. Good.

He motioned for Dove to pick up the box and carry it to his car for him, again motioning to his cane. Once it was set snug inside his trunk, he turned back to him. "Finish the cleaning; I'll see you're all paid, with a reminder, of course, that I expect services to come with discretion."

"We know. He knows."

"Good," he confirmed, slipping a pair of sunglasses on and fumbling with his keys. "I'll be in touch. There are things I'll need from you in the next few days. I will be looking to hire a couple of your cousins to help me with some other work. Just some little things, but I'm working on something special, and I need more eyes than you have. Be sure they know that discretion can buy them their way to the top of the list."

"Always happy to help, Sir. Any of us are."

He beamed. He might not have magic, but money did have a special sort of power in this world. "That's what I like about you, Mr. Dove. Wait for my instructions."

As he drove back to the pawnshop, he could hear Graham's belongings rattle and shift in the trunk. All that was left of a Cursed life. Nothing that would have been truly important to him if he'd died knowing who he was. If that was the case, he suspected Graham would have died happy, knowing Emma was with him. It was a waste. The only benefit from it that he now had a suspicion about where Regina was keeping her magic. Graham had no home, no family, no purpose other than being the Sheriff.

He had plans for Emma, though. She had a purpose and a family; she just didn't know it yet. As for the home part…that was something that would take time, but it wasn't contingent on the Curse breaking. He could begin that process now. He could make her invested in this place, these people, he could make this her home. He just had to wait a few more days, and until then, he had to proceed with caution. There were forces at work even beyond his control.

Filler chapter. I know it, you know it, but I'm hoping you won't think too much about it because even if there isn't really too much happening in this filler chapter, I still sort of like it. This was one of the first and easiest places to grab time in this fiction. After Graham dies, Gold announces that after 14 days, Emma could be Sheriff, so it was nice to have that built-in and explore what those two weeks looked like. Fun fact, while working with the calendar, I found that Thanksgiving was included in that, so I could use that to Gold's advantage. This was also the easiest place to set up "what's to come" for Emma and Gold in the next few episodes, to introduce her new position and to show that Gold has pretty much been thinking about it since Day One. Any time I can make him use some natural foresight instead of magical foresight is a good day as far as I'm concerned.

Thank you, Grace5231973, Alarda, and Jennifer Baratta, for your very kind reviews. I'm so glad that you are enjoying this fiction, and I hope that you'll continue in this fiction. Filler or not, Rumple has some excellent moments in here. I feel like he plays the conniving role really well when he kicks Moe out of his seat, but he also has that moment of genuine kindness in giving Marc the dartboard, that was a shocker to me, and yet even after I wrote it, it wasn't. Coming up next, the start of the 1x08 chapters. Peace and Happy Reading!