Jefferson sat alone, in his house, trying to stave off insanity. The same as every single other damn day in Storybrooke. He had tried Emma for help, he still wasn't sure exactly how he had ended up back in Storybrooke after that fall. It felt like he had spent a week in the void between realms before waking up face down in his flower bed the same day as when he fell. Oh well, at leat that week had been one where he wasn't stuck watching the same thing happen over and over. Watching Grace go off to school and come home and eat dinner, watching the man across the road walk his dog, watching the girl from the jewelry shop walk to work. He was tired of observing, he wanted to leave, to go out and do something. He took a walk. He found himself down by the bayside, the boats sitting there in the same spot that they always did. He wondered if anyone else noticed that. That despite there being seagoing vessels at the dock, none of them ever actually went to sea.

He looked out at them, his eyes going a little wide as he saw someone had climbed the mast of one of the larger ships that was anchored there. He squinted to see her, he saw the strawberry blonde hair lifted by a breeze despite the cap that sat on the woman's head and knew it was the girl from the jewelry store. She looked like an illustration out of a story book. Not the one that he, and her, and everyone in this town came from, but one from the rest of the world. Like some daring pirate queen taking in the salt air atop the crow's nest of her ship. She looked down, noticed him, and gave him a friendly smile. He returned the gesture with a half smile and something barely resembling a wave before turning away. He didn't want to talk to anyone. Talking was too painful when you had a war going on in your mind.

Jefferson went back to his mansion and sat alone. The next morning, like every other weekday morning, he saw her walk past, and she gave him a puzzled look along with her persistent smile and air of happiness. He recalled, she hadn't looked happy on that boat's mast. Enjoying herself yes, but she looked like someone who knew, someone who suspected that something more lay beyond the borders of this tiny hamlet. That she was thwarted by forces from inside Storybrooke. She had been happy but not content. To fill his lonely hours that day he thought on what might be going through the girls mind. Did she suspect? Was she beginning to remember who she was? What was it that she had had taken from her? He realized he had been wrong. That smile was the smile of someone whose conscience is clear, but not of one who is satisfied and naive. He regretted not talking to her the day before at the docks. Maybe she too understood, but rather than sulk in a house trying to make hats with magic she went out and lived a life in the place she was in. He didn't know, but he appreciated the distraction from his own duality of mind and from watching Grace come and go. He still watched, but his mind had some busywork to numb the pain.

Ellyn went to work, smiled at the man in the window of the mansion, wondered who he was, and whether maybe he was born mute. He seemed a hermit by all accounts, though some had said they had talked to him when she asked about the mysterious man with exquisite taste in scarves and waistcoats who lived in the big house on her way to work.

"Hello dearie" came Mr Gold's genial voice as he walked into Horn's jewelry for his weekly pickup of payment from the consignment of his more valuable acquisitions.

"Horn isn't here right now, but I can get your check" she said as she went into the office and extracted it from the file.

"Thank you Miss Carline" he said reaching for it.

"Not yet Mr. Gold" she said pushing a clipboard with a spot for his signature, acknowledging receipt of payment and an itemized list of objects sold and their net gain to the store after tax.

"Of course" he said and took up a pin and wrote his name in a strong but spidery script.

"In case you were wondering we sold that bloodied set from Kathryn's hand" she said bitterly "I was out when it happened" she added to confirm her innocence.

"How long will you live with your duality?" he mused "all of these trinkets are bought with blood. Why waste the labour?" he asked casually.

"Just because something is wrong doesn't mean you should add to the wrongness of it" she said. "I hate what I sell, but I sell it because it makes people happy. These jewels, they're hideous, not because of any aesthetic flaw but because of their origins. And history is the same way, it's a compilation of bad and people making good out of it. People are happy with the things they buy here because they don't see them the way I do, as the product of slaves and death and child labour, but I can't expect people to see things as I do. So I sell them rings and things to make them happy, to cement the bonds of marriage and engagement, to show love and appreciation to each other. But I don't think anyone would be happy knowing the ring on their hand came from a murdered woman's corpse" she finished.

"Prettily put Miss Carline" he said with a nod of acknowledgement. "My check now if you please, I'll tax you no further" he cordially spoke as she handed him the check and his copy of the receipt. "Good day"

"You as well" she replied as soon as the door was shut she heard a chuckle. She looked over and saw the recluse of the mansion standing there in an elegant deep plum scarf and grey waistcoat, the lingering effects of a giggle on his face. "What's so funny?" she asked.

"You" he said looking at her and then down at a set of earrings. "Not many people talk to Mr Gold like that." She huffed. "But more should" he added and watched the corners of her mouth lift into a chuckle of her own.

"Glad I have your approval" she said and sighed, looking out to the sea again.

"What's your name?" he asked coming over to her.

"Ellyn" she said stretching her hand out towards him.

"Jefferson" he responded as he shook her hand "nice to meet you properly, I've watched you go to work" he paused, that sounded far creepier than it should have he thought "I mean I've seen you walk to work quite often."

She gave him a queer look "you don't get out much do you?"

"No" he said shaking his head as he backed towards the door.

"Well, Jefferson, it was nice to meet you too" she spoke with a smile as the bashful madman backed against the door pushing it open by leaning on it and then he was gone. She puzzled over him for the rest of her uneventful Tuesday morning shift. She was too lost in thought to notice that her sunlight earrings she wore everyday were alterring their hues. If there had been a looking glass she might have seen the dangling teardrop earrings' stones that were green indoors and yellow in sunlight were now fluctuating without the slightest change in light, and now blues and purples appeared in short sporadic moments, like the shade of trees when you drive past them, there and gone but not dramatically noticeable unless you're paying attention.