Author's Notes: I do not own Once Upon A Time which is a show on ABC where the guy playing the pirate does a seriously good Rumple. Thanks for all your reads and reviews. I genuinely love getting them, they make my day. Please let me know what you think and happy reading!
Here- Storybrooke, Present
Beatrice awoke to the same song that she had for... well, it seemed to be a while.
Though she couldn't quite remember why she had selected "Always Starting Over" other than Idina Menzel. If she had been trying to cheer herself up, this was the wrong way to do it.
Beatrice forced herself to sit up, not the least bit curious about what was going to befall her today.
She checked her iPhone and found she had more texts from Mahnaz.
Did you watch the Sherlock Christmas special yet?
Beatrice groaned and shook her head. She finally texted Mahnaz that no, she had not watched the Sherlock Christmas special.
She realized that didn't seem anything like her.
Mahnaz was quick to reply.
I'm in a lecture, but I think you should try. I know it's hard.
Beatrice wrote out the text, asking why it would be hard, but then deleted it. She got dressed and then went back to her Mac, deciding to go on tumblr.
The Christmas special had been done in a Victorian style. Tumblr was full of gifsets of it, they seemed to have taken a special interest in Benedict Cumberbatch and hats.
She also looked up some of the stuff on the special. In addition to the usual cast, one of the parts was played by the actress who was Sybil on Downton Abbey. Only this time she was Lady Beatrice and she had a fabulous wardrobe.
Beatrice wondered if this was why Mahnaz thought she ought to watch it? It wasn't as if she was the only person named Beatrice.
Though there was a new tag.
Bealock.
Regina had arrived at her vault that morning to find it occupied with the living no less.
"I can't believe you brought him here," said Regina.
"Well, I couldn't very well put him in my cellar or the shop," said Gold. He motioned at the caskets. "I think your parents are past minding."
Regina grimaced. "What about the library?"
"We have schoolchildren there," said Belle. "I can't have a criminal mastermind hanging around."
"You already have Maleficent."
"Because you put her there!"
The door opened and Merlin entered.
"Is there no such thing as privacy anymore?," Regina asked.
"No, anyway, I see I've arrived in the middle of a spirited discussion." He looked at Belle. "What did you want to tell me?"
"We think we've narrowed down Beatrice's True Love. It's Sherlock Holmes," said Belle.
"Okay..." said Merlin.
"He's the Master. Only now we have Moriarty to deal with," said Belle.
"Moriarty?"
Gold motioned at the door to the next room. Merlin opened it wide enough to see Moriarty tied to the slab.
"Hi!," said Moriarty.
Merlin let the marble door slam shut.
"Right, then, I did have something to tell you, but this is starting to make a little more sense."
"What?," asked Gold.
"Your mother is back."
Gold's face grew serious. Belle took his hand.
"How does that make sense?," asked Regina.
"Because she's brought a friend with her," said Merlin. "Irene Adler."
"The woman," said Belle.
"What woman?," asked Gold.
"She's this woman in this short story, where she's the mistress of the King of Bohemia and Sherlock Holmes has to get these pictures back from her, but she beats him and he's impressed by her."
"Although right now she just seems to be flirting at anything that can stand still long enough," said Merlin.
Gold paused.
"This isn't another ridiculous love triangle, is it?"
Regina eyed him. "I think we're overlooking the bigger issue here. We have to keep Moriarty away from the Charmings. They aren't going to like him being tied up here."
"Oh, but I thought you were with the heroes now, dearie," said Gold.
"Well, Emma knows, but I don't think Mary Margaret and her husband are too crazy about Operation Mongoose."
"We can deal with that later," said Merlin. He turned to Gold. "First thing, sunshine, we need to get you down to the sheriff's station, you act all angry at your mother, threaten to send her through a mirror to Wonderland-"
"Hey," said Regina.
"Whatever. We keep that drama going and I am going to try to sort out who cast this memory spell."
"And what about Moriarty?," asked Belle.
Merlin shook his head. "What? Are you afraid he'll get more crazy?"
There- London, 1914
Joseph stood. The looming Scot eyed him.
"And why ought that be a coincidence?"
"Because I'm Sherlock Holmes," Joseph snapped.
Suddenly, a tall thin man leapt from the table, revealing the candles and crystal ball covering it.
"I told you! I told you it was true!"
Jenna and Louise got up. The thin man seemed very pleased at this turn of events.
"Do you see now, Doyle? Do you see?"
"No..." said Doyle. "No, that can't be. It's impossible."
Jenna turned to the thin man. "Sorry, what was your name?"
"Theodore Cromwell, Miss-"
"Jenna... Holmes. Never mind that. What were you trying to do?"
Theodore spoke with great excitement. "I recently posited that every story book character you've ever known isn't fiction. They all exist in other worlds. I thought with Doyle's spiritualist friend here we could find such souls." He turned to another mustached man at the table. "Barrie! We could meet Peter Pan!"
Louise grabbed Theodore by his tie.
"If you summon Peter Pan, I swear to God, I will rip your heart out and crush it in front of you."
Jenna shook her head apologetically. "She's never actually done it."
"It can't be that hard," said Louise.
Barrie tentatively spoke. He was a Scot like Doyle, but seemed to have a lighter, gentler touch. "And what is the problem with Peter Pan?"
Louise was galled. "Oh, you. The author. I bet you think he's just a harmless boy who never wanted to grow up? Do you want to know why he didn't want to grow up?"
"If you're willing..."
"So he could abandon his son!"
Jenna leaned forward. "I'm sorry, this is some very touchy family history for us."
"Held my uncle hostage in Neverland, wanted to kill my mother so he could use her magic to power Neverland."
"But Peter Pan is an innocent-" said Barrie.
"No, he's not! Peter Pan is an asshole!," said Louise.
"So I think it's time for some tea," said Jenna.
Here
Pamela re-entered the vault where Moriarty still lay tied to the slab.
"How are we doing?," she asked.
"I'm fine," he said. "I really needed a break."
"Not inclined to speak to me yet? About the Author?"
Moriarty turned his head. "Do you expect me to tell you the whole plan?"
Pamela shrugged. "It would be quite sporting of you."
Moriarty nodded. "Fair enough. I'll give you a hint. The Author wanted the same from me as Merlin wanted from you."
"I doubt that."
"No, we're just at cross-purposes. You're trying to make a hero. I'm here to make a villain."
Emma entered the sheriff's station. She and Marian had just switched off in the hallway. She took out the Pop Tarts and stopped at Irene's cell first.
"Oh. Good morning, Sheriff," said Irene, taking the proffered food. "Aren't we looking lovely?"
"Save it," said Emma. She turned to Gormlaith. "Pop Tart?"
Gormlaith looked up at Emma.
"If that's what passes for food in this realm, I'll starve. Thank you, dearie."
Emma rolled her eyes. "I'm starting to see where Gold gets some of his personality quirks."
"I'll thank you not to discuss my family, dearie."
Emma straightened up and put the Pop Tart plate on a nearby desk.
"No, you know what? It's my family, too. My son is your great-grandson. So, really, I'd like to know why you tried to kill Beatrice. Just in case you think you'd like to murder anyone else in your gene pool."
"She was a means to an end. Baelfire and his son have nothing to fear from me."
"And what do you care?"
"She's my friend."
Gormlaith smiled. "Someday that won't be enough, dearie."
Beatrice got the Apple TV set up in the living room as Lady and Martha watched.
"Okay," she said, getting the remote and finding the right place in the Apple store. "The Adventure of the Gold Pendant. Sherlock and Watson must help a young socialite recover a family heirloom while the future of the British Empire hangs in the balance. Guest stars Jessica Brown-Findlay, Sarah Parish, Peter Capaldi and Robert Carlyle. Okay, good cast. Why does this thing have to be five-ninety-nine, though?"
She looked at her dogs.
"Right. Because you don't care about money..." She paused. "And neither should I because my dad spins straw into gold."
Just as she was about to purchase, her iPhone rang. Beatrice didn't recognize the number but picked up anyway.
"Hello?"
"Hi, Beatrice? It's John."
Beatrice shook her head. "Who?"
He paused a long time. "John Watson?"
Beatrice looked at her screen with the picture of Benedict Cumberbatch and Martin Freeman.
"Sorry, who?"
"John Watson. Joseph's brother?"
"Joseph?"
"Yeah, Beatrice, are you alright? You sound a bit strange if you don't mind me saying so."
Beatrice searched her memory. She could almost remember someone called John Watson, but had no idea how she had met him or who he was.
"Um, who's Joseph?"
"Beatrice, you're starting to scare me just a bit. Do you really not remember who Joseph is?"
Beatrice hung up.
She looked at Lady and Martha.
"Who's Joseph?"
There
Doyle's wife was a woman called Jean and she looked none too pleased about the sudden addition of the three guests.
"They came through the crystal ball?," she asked.
"Actually, we came through the hole in time and space that the crystal ball managed to rip," said Jenna.
Jean scowled. She turned back to Doyle and seemed none too impressed.
"Well, they can't stay here," she declared.
"I beg your pardon?," said Joseph.
"This is my home!"
"Well, actually, seeing as how you've probably bought everything off the proceeds of my life, it's really my home," said Joseph.
Barrie shrugged. "He raises a fair point."
Doyle and Jean both turned to shoot daggers at their friend.
"Well, since we know now that all of our stories aren't really ours, they must belong to the people who lived them."
"Barrie," said Doyle, "you can't be serious. How can he be Sherlock Holmes? His nose isn't right."
"Roll your own cigarettes, do you?," asked Joseph.
"No," said Doyle. "Don't you dare."
"Turkish, I should think. Very aromatic. Stains from that and ink from a fountain pen. Still writing your drafts by hand, are you? I can tell by the callus on your finger. Your waistcoat, just a tad too tight, don't you think? Your wife has certainly been commenting on it, probably why there's chocolate biscuit residue under your fingers. You've been snacking in secret."
Jean stared at Doyle. Barrie let out a snort.
"You've got to admit he's quite good, Doyle."
"So, I'll be staying then," said Joseph. "And I suppose my daughters need a room."
"Your daughters?," said Doyle. "Sherlock Holmes doesn't have any children."
"Well, not if we can't get him back to my mother, no," said Jenna.
"And this mother," asked Barrie, "she's Peter Pan's granddaughter?"
Jenna turned back. "Yeah."
Louise continued. "Her father's Rumplestiltskin and her mother is Belle from Beauty and the Beast."
"What happened to the Beast?," asked Barrie.
"Rumplestiltskin is the Beast."
Barrie nodded as he took a drag off his pipe. "I'll need to think on this."
"Most people do," remarked Joseph.
Here
Emma stood from her desk when she saw Gold enter. He cast a look over at Gormlaith.
"I guess you're here to talk to her?"
Gold didn't answer. He looked over at Gormlaith who stood at the bars of her cell.
"How's the squid ink working?"
"I put more on. You're just talking, right?"
He turned back slowly. "Whatever do you mean?"
"I'm not stupid, Gold. I've known you a while now and I know you have one breaking point and that's your kids."
"I think I can be trusted to not murder her in the next ten minutes."
Emma shrugged as she knew that was the best promise she could expect from Gold given the circumstances. She watched as he walked over.
"Rumple..." Gormlaith began.
"Don't bother. If you would like to remain living, I suggest you stay away from me, from Belle and from my children."
"I want to fix everything."
"You left me and doomed me, but there were three good things in my life to come out of that and you tried to take one away. So, when you get out of here, don't fool yourself into thinking that I won't end you to keep her safe."
Gormlaith was silent. Gold turned to Irene.
"You're Irene Adler?"
"Yes?," the woman answered cautiously.
"I'm not too thrilled with you, either, dearie."
Beatrice went back and looked at the video on her computer.
"Wait, was that smoke?," Beatrice asked. The video cut out.
She re-wound as Martha sat next to her and Lady sat on the bed.
"That is. That is totally smoke, like curse smoke. Why would I care about the Author? It's Regina's thing."
She downloaded the video to her phone. She turned to Martha.
"I have to ask Regina, don't I?"
Martha jumped up, placing her front paws on Beatrice.
"Fine, fine, I'll give you a walk."
Gold returned to the vault.
"Did they suspect anything?," asked Regina.
Gold shook his head. "Not that I can tell."
"How was seeing your mother?," asked Belle.
"About as I expected."
Belle took his hand. "I'm sorry, Rumple."
"What was her excuse?," asked Merlin.
He shrugged. "As usual, she just wants to fix everything." He turned to Belle. "I won't let her near Beatrice again."
"As much as I am concerned about your family reunion, could we discuss what your nanny is doing with Moriarty? A spoonful of sugar isn't going to make him talk."
Belle's phone rang.
"Oh, by all means, take the call," said Regina.
Belle ignored Regina. "Hello?"
"Hi, Mrs. Gold, is that you?"
Belle paused. "Sorry, who's calling?"
"John Watson. Joseph's brother."
Belle looked up at Gold.
"What is it?"
"It's John Watson."
"What?," asked Regina.
"Get him talking," said Merlin.
Belle waved them off. "Right. Hi, John."
"Look, I just called Beatrice and she was acting a bit odd. She didn't even seem to remember Joseph when I mentioned him."
"Right."
"It's just I know Joseph cared for her and he'd want me to make sure everything was alright. Is everything alright?"
"Does Joseph's last name start with a G?"
There was a long pause. "Okay, Mrs. Gold, forgive me for saying it, but now you sound a bit off."
"Please, John, I think we've all been cursed with some sort of memory spell."
"Memory spell?" He took a moment. "Does that happen very often? I don't know what's normal in... fairy tale... world?"
"It's not uncommon. Anyway, Joseph? I think Joseph is just gone from our minds, we're trying to get him back, but does his last name start with a G?"
"Gillette."
"Regina? Are you in here?"
Merlin's eyes shot up at Gold.
"You said she was at home."
"I didn't bind her in the house."
"I am so sorry, John. I'm going to have to call you back," said Belle.
Belle hung up and looked at Regina.
"Okay," said Regina. "I've got this."
Regina went up the steps to the entry of her vault.
"You brought your dogs," she remarked seeing the Cocker Spaniel and Dalmatian on their leashes.
"Yeah, well, they needed a walk and I needed to talk to you."
"Okay."
"So..." Beatrice couldn't decided how this should start. "The Author. What's his deal?"
Regina frowned. "Why are you asking about that?"
"Stuff."
"What kind of stuff?"
"I think someone cursed the town. Again."
"What a disaster," Regina said flatly.
"You didn't, did you?"
She scoffed. "No. I cursed entire realms. Why would I bother with the town?"
"Okay, I just think it's some kind of memory spell thing."
"Why do you think that?"
"Well, I've got a video of myself with some sort of curse smoke and there's some guy named Joseph I don't seem to remember."
Regina's eyes widened. "Well... that is a problem."
Belle was suddenly up the steps. "We're working on that."
"Mom, what are you doing here?"
"What video?"
"Do I get to know why you're here?"
"No. I'm your mother."
As she said that, Gold and Merlin came up.
"How many people do you have down there?," asked Beatrice.
"What video?," asked Merlin.
Beatrice sighed and got out her phone, playing the video.
"Magic," said Gold, looking at the video. "It's definitely a memory spell."
"We can make a reversal spell then," said Regina. "All we need is his name, we can go to the wishing well and undo this mess. Maybe we'll have some answers."
"Great," said Belle, pushing Beatrice out, "we'll take the dogs to the shop and meet you there."
"What is happening?," asked Beatrice.
There
After much complaining, Mrs. Doyle had her housekeeper set Jenna and Louise up in one of the guest rooms. The woman eyed them the whole time, not liking Jenna's short skirt or Louise's trousers. They were provided with someone's old nightgowns so they changed and set about getting some sleep.
"I can't believe we have to share a bed," Louise grimaced.
Jenna grimaced. "Just be glad Mom's not trying to shove her way in."
"Yeah, what is that about?"
Jenna sat under the covers. "We need a plan."
Louise took the other side of the bed. "We know there's magic in London."
"Magic isn't the problem. We need a time travel spell or another portal. Those aren't easy to come by."
Louise nodded. "Unless you're in someone else's family. Then they're all over the place."
"Who do we know with magic here?"
"Literally no one. It's nineteen-fourteen, no one we know is going to show up for sixty-nine years."
"Nineteen-fourteen. There's a war coming."
"An east wind," said Louise.
There was a knock at the door.
"Yes?," asked Jenna.
"It's... me," Joseph said finally.
"Uh, come in," she answered.
Joseph entered and shut the door behind him. He didn't speak, staring at them.
"Oh, God, he's doing it," said Jenna.
"Clearly, you take after Beatrice," he said looking at Jenna. He turned to Louise. "You got your grandmother's eyes and my height because no offense, it's not coming from elsewhere in the family, but you seem to share your mother's love of bringing up all things..."
"Irrelevant?," offered Jenna.
"I was going to say tangential. Also, she's mad at you."
"She is not-" Jenna looked at Louise. "Okay, yeah, she's a little mad at me right now."
"A little?," asked Louise.
"Okay, a lot."
"Important point, you two actually aren't called Jenna and Louise."
"No," said Louise.
"Why did you lie?"
"We met Alec first and he couldn't know the truth."
"Are you going to tell me your real names?"
Jenna answered. "No."
Louise motioned at her sister. "She really hates her name."
Joseph crossed his arms. "You hate your name more than twins being named Jenna and Louise in an obvious homage to an actress?"
"I wouldn't say that."
"I would," said Joseph.
Jenna narrowed her eyes. "Well, just try to imagine a life where you have a mother who's never not named anything after someone on TV or in a movie in addition to a father who thinks Sherlock, Mycroft, Sherrinford, Enola and Siger are all normal names."
"So, Rumplestiltskin's granddaughter would like to play the name game with me?"
"I'm not playing. You can figure it out yourself." She turned to glare at Louise. "And don't you dare say anything or I will make sure you get stuck with a name that's worse than mine."
"Right," said Joseph. "Saving that for another day, how do we get home?"
Jenna and Louise exchanged glances.
"We need to find some magic," Jenna declared.
Here
Beatrice and Belle arrived at the wishing well. Merlin, Gold and Regina were already waiting.
"So, what's going on?," asked Beatrice.
"Something has been taken from you," said Gold. "It's past time you got it back."
"What?"
"True Love," said Merlin.
"What True Love? I don't have a True Love. I'm pretty sure about that."
Belle squeezed Beatrice. "Beatrice, it's fine, we have this under control."
She nodded at her husband and Gold dropped the vial into the well. Green smoke began to billow from it and moved to cover them.
Beatrice dropped her knees.
"Beatrice?" Belle dropped next to her as Gold rushed over.
"Damn it," said Merlin.
Belle tried to hold Beatrice.
"Rumple, what's happening?"
"Oh, sweetheart," said Gold. He took Beatrice from Belle's arms. "What have you done?"
Belle looked at Regina. "Would someone tell me what is happening?"
"There's a price to be paid for certain memory spells," said Regina. "This is it. The price you pay for forgetting is the pain of remembering."
"What?" Belle's eyes went back to her daughter. "Beatrice cast the memory spell?"
Beatrice had her face buried in Gold's shoulder.
"It hurts."
"I know it, little one. Papa can fix that..."
"No. The price..."
"I will gladly pay any price for you."
He waved his hand over her as the smoke dissipated. Beatrice's spasms stopped.
Then she started crying.
"I didn't want to remember."
"I know, sweetheart. I know."
Beatrice stared at her plate.
"I wish you would eat something," said Belle looking across the diner table at her.
"I am a horrible person." She pushed her plate aside.
"You are not," said Belle.
"Did I just curse the whole town or not?"
"It wasn't like a big curse," said Gold, tapping Beatrice's plate back towards her.
"Your parents are right," said Regina.
Beatrice looked up at her.
"I know what it's like to lose your first love, the heartbreak that causes. You tried to find a way to cope. It wasn't the best, but maybe there isn't really a good way. At least you didn't swear revenge against a ten-year-old."
Merlin pulled a chair up. Beatrice looked at him.
"What do you think?"
"What you did was monumentally stupid and a terrible plan," said Merlin.
Belle glared at her father.
"I wasn't finished yet." He turned back to Beatrice. "You screwed up, yes, everyone does. Even I screw up. You screw up now, you get it right later."
Belle rubbed Beatrice's back. "Your grandfather's right."
The door opened. They looked up as Catherine, Alec, Venus and Olaf entered.
"Is this table taken?," Alec asked motioning at the one next to their booth.
"What are you guys doing here?"
"We heard you had a rough day," said Venus.
"That I brought upon myself."
"That doesn't mean you don't need your family," said Alec. "You know my mother, Amelia? She once caused a flood because she wanted to avoid attending a wedding."
"The Far North Kingdom probably could have had a few days of spring without the glacier melting," said Catherine. "I didn't want to shave my legs, though."
Alec eyed her. "Really?"
"Well, it would have still been brisk-"
"No, the other thing."
"Have you tried shaving your legs?"
"No."
"Then shut up."
The door opened. Neal came in with Henry, followed by Emma and her parents.
"Hey, Bea," said Neal.
"Am I getting arrested?"
"No," said Emma. "You've had a crap day, well, crap year and a few months..."
Mary Margaret cut her off. "We wanted to let you know we support you. Everyone makes mistakes."
"She's right," said Neal. "All you can do is say you're sorry and try to fix them."
After the impromptu family dinner, Belle took Beatrice's arm in hers. "Come on. Time to get home. Lady and Martha must be worried by now."
Beatrice nodded.
"What's wrong?"
"Other than my cursing the town?"
"Yes."
Beatrice stopped walking and looked at her mother.
"I'm back where I started. My True Love is gone. All hope of future happiness is nonexistent. Why the hell should I even bother?"
"Beatrice, tell me the truth and whatever you say, I'm not judging you. I just want to help even if you think I can't."
"What?"
"Archie said you didn't answer him when he asked if you had thought about hurting yourself." Belle took a breath. "Have you thought about hurting yourself?"
"I wouldn't."
"So you did..."
"I thought about it. Then I thought about how sad you and Dad would be, then Lady and Martha and I knew I couldn't hurt you guys like that."
Belle nodded. "Okay, I'm not saying we're done with this, but I'm glad you told me and you're right. If anything ever happened to you, your father and I would never heal from it."
Belle hugged her, then she broke it off.
"Sorry, I'm about to get told off."
"What?"
Beatrice broke apart from her mother. Belle turned to see Lila Foley heading her way.
"Mrs. Foley, I am so-"
Which was about when Lila smacked her across the face.
The others turned. Neal had to hold back Gold as Regina and Emma rushed forward.
"Don't you dare lay a hand on my daughter! I am sorry about your son, but she's been in pain, too! You do not have the right-"
"It's okay, Belle," said Emma, pulling her away.
Regina stepped between Beatrice and Lila.
"I understand emotions are high," said Regina. "I think it would be better if you went home and cooled off."
"Where do you get the right to tell me what to do?"
"Well, I'm one of the people trying to keep you from becoming a snail."
Lila looked back at Beatrice.
"My son was stolen from me because of you. This True Love nonsense is nothing more than his death sentence. The Blue Fairy was absolutely right about you. I curse your conception because it was the first nail in his coffin."
Regina glared. "You can leave now."
Lila walked a distance down the street and looked up seeing Merlin.
She opened her mouth. He raised his hand.
"Don't," he began. "Don't say anything. Heed my words. Stay away. If you think the Blue Fairy was right, I don't want you anywhere near her. Doubt is sometimes useful, but self-loathing... stay away. Stay far away."
Pamela walked in to the dungeon again.
"Well, Miss Poppins, what brings you here?"
"To deliver a message. You have overplayed your hand. We have the woman, we know all about Sherlock Holmes, we will soon know everything."
Moriarty smiled.
"You all don't have a clue what this is about."
London- Present
John checked the clock again.
Nellie eyed him. "You know that's the tenth time you've done that."
"Is it? Sorry."
Nellie looked at Kate and Chloe. "Girls, you need to eat your breakfast."
Hector entered and joined them, giving each twin a kiss on the cheek.
"Have I missed something?," he asked Nellie, taking the seat next to her.
"John is terribly distracted by the clock," said Nellie.
"I thought your shift at the clinic began at ten," said Hector. "You have plenty of time."
"No, it's not that, I'm just wondering when it'll be late enough to ring the Golds in America."
"I should think they'd still be asleep," said Hector. "Are they early risers?"
"Not particularly."
Nellie put down her fork and looked at John. "Any particular reason you want to call?"
"No, it's just Beatrice sounded strange yesterday."
"I hope you rang her parents."
"I did, Auntie."
"And what did they say?," asked Hector.
John shook his head. "There was some sort of other... problem going on there."
"What sort of problem?"
"Town... crisis."
"A small town in Maine? What sort of crisis could they possibly be having?"
Chloe and Kate whispered conspiratorially. When they were done, Kate tugged John's arm.
"Beatrice is the Dark Princess, right?"
"Where did you get that from?"
"The fairy book."
"Just stories, darling," said Nellie. She patted John's hand. "You'll talk to them later. Perhaps on your lunch it would be late enough?"
"You're right," said John. He checked the clock again. "Blimey. I'd better be going."
John put on his coat, picking up his bag and umbrella. It was a gray and rainy morning as he made his way to the tube station. St. Bart's was just a short ride away from his aunt and uncle's house. He was staying with them for his Foundation Training year and it was overall convenient arrangement in light of everything.
"Do you have the time?," a man with a deep voice asked.
John looked up. The man who had asked him had dark skin and was in morning dress, oddly enough with a bright waistcoat and a top hat.
"Uh, yes, quarter past nine."
He began to walk off and down the stairs.
"Thank you, Doctor Watson."
John froze on the steps and turned back. The man in the top hat waited, spinning his cane around.
"How on Earth did you know that? Who are you?"
"I'm a friend of Moriarty's."
"Moriarty?" John shook his head. "Good God. You can't possibly be for real, can you? Where are you supposed to be from?"
The man grinned like the Cheshire Cat. "From the other side."
He and John disappeared from the pavement in a puff of purple smoke.
There
Joseph sat at the window of the drawing room.
It was so strange. He had passed his year in Storybrooke feeling very foreign, though he supposed he was always a bit foreign. London was his stomping ground, though. He knew every corner, he could smell it when he wasn't there.
He wasn't in his London, though. He had somehow managed to find his way to the literary Sherlock Holmes' London. He was a world away from his London.
Which meant he must have been worlds away from Beatrice.
"Mr. Holmes."
Joseph turned. "Mr. Barrie, I thought you had left for the evening."
"I had. I thought you might be needing some suitable clothes. I had my valet put together some things. I think they ought to be the right height. Doyle's man can help you in the morning."
"Thank you, Mr. Barrie."
"No deerstalker, I'm afraid."
"Just as well since that would be a hat for the country."
Barrie smiled and sat in the chair next to Joseph's.
"I must say you surprise me."
"Other than being Sherlock Holmes and having arrived during a seance?"
"I usually just choose to indulge Doyle's spiritualist leanings. They seem to be the total antithesis of a logical mind. No, I was referring to your lost love. Doyle never imagined Holmes as a romantic. I've seen his fans ask after a wife for Holmes or even try to make Irene Adler into one."
Joseph cast a glance at Barrie.
Barrie shrugged. "It's this new thing. Fans writing fiction about characters."
"I've heard of it, but I suppose he never imagined Beatrice."
"And what makes a young lady so special as to turn the eye of Sherlock Holmes?"
"I don't know."
Barrie smiled. "I think you must."
Joseph shook his head. "I really don't."
"Beauty?"
"She has it in spades, but that's not important."
"Charm."
Joseph shook his head at Barrie. "As if my affections for her rested on her having a quality of which I possess none."
"I can't tell if that's an affirmation or a denial. Alright, then, intelligence. I'll wager Peter Pan's box office takings that the great love of Sherlock Holmes must possess intelligence."
Joseph scoffed. "That's so mind-numbingly obvious. How could she possibly keep my attention if she weren't? The myth of intelligent men attracted to dumb women is only perpetuated because the former are not nearly as clever as they think they are."
"Kindness."
"Your hypothesis seems to be that there is a checklist of qualities which would make me fall in love with someone who just happens to possess them all, when it's not the case. I fell in love with her and only her, there was no other way."
"Well, now, that is a surprise."
"What about it?"
"Sherlock Holmes believes in fate."
Here
Beatrice awoke in her bed.
And she was not alone.
"Mom, I'm nineteen," she protested trying to squirm against her mother's clutches.
Belle didn't open her eyes as she pulled Beatrice closer.
"You know, I was thinking about this song," said Belle. "And I wondered why you chose it."
"Because of Joseph."
"Yes, but, I think you were trying to tell yourself something." Belle rested her cheek next to Beatrice's. "I think you were trying to give yourself permission to imagine something different, you know?"
"I don't want something different," Beatrice said quietly.
"I know," said Belle.
The song stopped and was interrupted by an a capella version of the Sherlock theme.
"What is that?"
"iTunes called it Drunken A Capella Sherlock theme." She shrugged. "They didn't have a Watson ring tone."
Beatrice took the phone off the speaker. "Hi, John. Sorry I was weird yesterday-"
"This isn't John Watson," a great, deep voice said.
Beatrice sat up. "This is his phone."
"We have John Watson and if any harm comes to James Moriarty, he is dead."
"Whoa, wait, what are you talking about? How would I know about... Moriarty? Really?"
Belle sat up. "Beatrice?"
"We'll be in touch," said the man, hanging up.
Stunned, Beatrice hung up the phone.
"Beatrice?," Belle repeated. "Sweetheart, what's wrong?"
"John Watson's in danger."
