Author's Notes: I do not own Once Upon A Time which is a show on ABC where just WTF? Anyway, thanks so much for your reads and reviews. I really appreciate them. Please let me know what you think and happy reading!
1914
Joseph stared at his grown children in wonderment. They had been sitting in Doyle's parlor for some time now as they explained the fate of Lady Mary Poppins.
"You lost your nanny in a portal that Doctor Facilier opened."
They looked at each other. Jenna turned back towards Joseph and began to slowly nod.
"That is pretty much it."
"With nothing but her umbrella."
"Yeah, I think she probably went to the Enchanted Forest."
"Right..." Joseph nodded. "Are you two at all concerned about not being born? Because I would think it would feature rather high on your list of priorities about now."
"Yeah, it's a pretty big concern for me."
Joseph narrowed his eyes at his someday eldest. "Is it? Because you managed to find the only magic we've seen in weeks and lose it."
Barrie tutted. "Now it can't be as dire as all that. What did your friend at Scotland Yard say?"
"Oh, yes, the shop, of course, you see, Scotland Yard actually found nothing. The shop is shuttered, its contents emptied. Nothing left." He stared back at the women. "Am I going to have to do a lot of this in future? 'Oh, Daddy, we accidentally turned the maid into a mouse and the cat ate her, whatever shall we do?'"
"The maid actually used to be a mouse," said Louise.
Jenna glared at her.
"It's not like she didn't know the risks," said Louise.
"We never turned the maid into a mouse," said Jenna. "I just want to make that clear."
The butler entered.
"Mr. Gold, there's a Mr. David Somerset here to see you."
Joseph narrowed his eyes. "Here to see me? How could he possibly be here to see me? I'm not in the right time period."
"He says he's from the Ministry of Defence, shall I bring him in?"
Joseph rolled his eyes. "Oh, why not?"
Present
Belle and Gold returned to their suite at Claridge's to find Beatrice set up in front of the television. That was not at all unusual, what was unusual as of late was the choice in program.
"Is that Sherlock?," Belle asked in astonishment.
"Shh..." said Beatrice. "I'm talking."
Her parents exchanged concerned looks.
"Beatrice, what do you mean?," asked Gold.
"And where were you when you realized the pendant was missing?," asked Benedict Cumberbatch.
"In my room, of course," the Lady Sybil actress answered.
"And you don't suspect your lady's maid?"
"Travers? She would never do such a thing."
"Then it was one of the housemaids. Simple."
"Yes, it was so simple that one of the housemaids used a lock-picking kit."
"You really ought to screen your housemaids better."
Jessica Brown-Findlay eyed him. "I've never seen someone so unwilling to work especially when you consider the fee I am prepared to pay."
"Your fee doesn't interest me. All I care about is the game and I hardly think looking for some trinket is much of a challenge. I can't be moved by material concerns."
"And what is the fee?," Martin Freeman asked. Benedict Cumberbatch shot him a questioning glare. "Not that I can be moved by material concerns, either."
"Ten percent of the value of the item recovered is customary, I believe," said Lady Sybil. "Is a thousand pounds amenable to you?"
Benedict Cumberbatch turned. "Your pendant is worth ten-thousand pounds?"
"Does that make it more enticing? I thought material concerns didn't interest you, Mr. Holmes."
"They don't, but you haven't told your father a ten-thousand pound piece of jewelry has been stolen from you. That interests me a great deal. Why would you not tell him? Surely he has his own men for this sort of thing."
"Indeed he does, but they're hardly an imaginative sort. I thought perhaps you could handle it."
"Beatrice, would you please pause this?," asked Belle.
Beatrice relented and turned back to her parents.
"What did you mean you were talking?," Belle asked.
"Oh, well, let's begin. The Sherlock Christmas special." She motioned at the screen. "Jessica Brown-Findlay, who you may remember as Lady Sybil from Downton Abbey, plays Lady Beatrice MacAuriel, debutante, only daughter of the Earl of Talamh, who is also known for his mining interests throughout the empire. He is married to his second wife, Isabelle, who is a patroness of libraries and literacy projects for the working class and has a literary circle."
"What are you getting at?," asked Gold.
"I thought that would be obvious," said Beatrice. "I'm in the Sherlock Christmas special."
"Well, stories from our land show up all the time," said Belle. "You know that."
"This isn't a story from our land. Remember? I'm not in any of those."
"It could be a coincidence..."
"No, see, this land is different from the Enchanted Forest. It depends on cause and effect. So, there's got to be a reason I'm in a Sherlock Holmes story all of a sudden." She looked at her father. "You know I'm right."
"Indeed I think you are," said Gold, "however there are other priorities such as finding Doctor Watson."
The door opened and Merlin entered. He pointed at Beatrice.
"Did you freeze the Peter Pan statue in Kensington Gardens?"
"Oh, I was just doing that to get a point across to Moriarty."
"Moriarty?," Belle asked alarmed.
"What Peter Pan statue?," asked Gold.
"I think I'm more interested in the Moriarty bit," said Merlin. He waved his hand dismissively at Gold. "Your father issues will still be here when we're done. What about Moriarty?"
"Oh, right, that's the part where I followed John back to his house."
Gold frowned. "But he's been kidnapped."
"Yeah, good question, Joseph's little cousin, Kate or Chloe, thinks there's some sort of shenanigans and we're meeting at the park tomorrow."
"You weren't supposed to leave the hotel room!," Belle exclaimed.
"Hey, I came back," said Beatrice. "And I ordered the most expensive sandwich in the world. Seriously, it was like forty dollars or something."
Then
The butler showed in Mr. Somerset, a man with a slim build and closely cut dark hair.
"Mr. Gold?," he asked, looking at Joseph.
"Yes?"
"David Somerset, Ministry of Defence."
"Would you care for some tea, Mr. Somerset?," asked Jenna.
"No, thank you. I don't care for it.
"You don't care for tea?"
"I have a theory that if there's ever a downfall to the British Empire, tea will be the reason why."
"Might not be wrong..." Louise whispered.
"What can we offer you?," asked Barrie. "We were having some sherry."
"That would be fine. Thank you."
Barrie nodded as the butler procured a glass and gave it to Somerset.
"And what does the ministry want with me?"
"Yes, this is very good," Somerset mused at the sherry. "An unusually fine Solera. Fifty-one, I believe."
Joseph rolled his eyes. "There is no year on sherry."
"I was referring to the vintage upon which the sherry was originally based."
"Is that a thing people can do?," Louise asked.
"Not so much to do with you," said Somerset, turning to look at Jenna and Louise. "Everything to do with you two ladies and the disappearance of Lady Mary Poppins."
"I don't..." Jenna began.
"And your visit to the man calling himself Doctor Facilier."
"Okay," said Jenna. "You're going to have to be clearer because this is going a bit over my head."
"Well, why did two visiting Americans seek out a practitioner of voodoo?"
"I think there's been a misunderstanding," said Joseph.
"There's been no misunderstanding, Mr. Holmes," said Somerset.
"What?"
Somerset looked at Joseph. "We know precisely who you are and where you've come from."
"And how could you know that?"
"Well, I could stand here and lie to you or you could just come and have a look."
Now
Regina checked her watch. "Any time, Beatrice!"
Beatrice came out. "Okay."
"No," said Pamela, looking at her tunic sweater and leggings.
"What?"
"This is Claridge's, not Granny's," she spat.
Beatrice frowned at her nanny. "Okay, you know that it's 2016, not Downton Abbey?"
"Do you want to waste your time arguing with me?"
"I am actually nineteen. Or thirty-two or eighty-two-"
"Go," Pamela repeated.
Beatrice turned around.
"Not as if we aren't still waiting for our newest member to arrive," said Merlin.
"What new member?," asked Regina.
There was a knock at the door. Belle went to get it.
"I needed help. I got some," Gold said tightly.
"What help?," asked Regina.
"Regina, darling!"
Regina shot daggers at Gold.
"You twisted imp."
Regina stood and faced her former nemesis.
"Cruella."
"Regina." She gave a polite hug. "Well, well, look at you. Sweet Belle tells me you're all one big happy family these days."
"I wouldn't go that far."
Cruella scoffed. "I would. Christmases with Snow White and Prince Charming? And no one's died? What would that fresh-faced young queen I used to know say?"
"She grew up."
"That's one way of putting it." She looked at the others. "Merlin."
"How many ferrets had to die for that coat?," asked Merlin as he texted on his phone.
"Okay, is this better?," asked Beatrice as she emerged in a skirt and sweater.
She stopped when she saw who was there. In addition to Merlin, Pamela, Regina and her parents, there was a new addition from the Disney vault.
Cruella stood and smiled sweetly. "This must be her." She hurried over to Beatrice. "So lovely to meet you at last, darling."
She hugged Beatrice and administered air kisses.
Beatrice looked helplessly at Belle.
"Mom, why is she real and hugging me?"
Merlin shook his head. "Your dog is the daughter of Pongo and Perdita and you're asking why Cruella is real, though, to be perfectly honest, I have wondered the same thing from time to time."
"This had better not be about my dog." She looked at Cruella. "This had really better not be about my dog."
Belle joined them. "Cruella lives here in London."
"Okay..."
"She's agreed to help us," Belle said, putting her arm over her daughter, slowly peeling her away from Cruella.
"Why would you want to help us?," asked Beatrice.
"Well, obviously, she wants to win the favor of the Dark Princess," said Merlin.
"She what?"
Belle shot her father a look.
"Yeah," said Merlin, continuing to look at his phone. "Why else do you think she, Maleficent and Ursula kidnapped your mother while she was pregnant?"
Beatrice shook her head. "That's a thing that happened? You meant to string all those words together?"
"We should go before we miss our appointment," said Pamela.
"I can fit some of you in my car if anyone wants to join me," said Cruella.
Cruella led off Regina and Pamela. Beatrice gathered her coat as she and her parents prepared to leave.
"Father..." said Belle.
"What? Is that a thing you weren't telling her?," he asked as he picked up his coat.
"Telling me what?," asked Beatrice.
"The game is rigged for the villains to always lose," said Merlin. "Did you not suppose some of them might have caught wind of that little fact and taken an interest in you?"
"It's Cruella DeVille," said Beatrice. "What is she even doing here? How do you people even know her?"
"That is a tale for another time," said Gold. "But I would watch the mini bar."
Then
Somerset drove them in his car to a gothic building on the edge of Westminster. No guards, only iron gates.
"Here," said Somerset, leading them through a wooden door better suited to a medieval castle than anything in the early part of the twentieth century.
They walked into the room as Somerset flicked on the lights.
"What is this place?," asked Barrie.
"This, Mr. Barrie, is a junkyard..." Somerset turned and gave a rueful smile. "This is where the refuse from other worlds goes."
Jenna and Louise observed the shelves, cluttered with magical tchotchkes and relics from from other lands.
"He's got almost as much as Grandpa," Louise observed.
"How does it get here?," asked Joseph.
"Classified," Somerset answered.
"Do you have a portal?," asked Jenna.
"Classified."
"And why did you bring us here if you were just going to say everything is classified?," asked Joseph.
"Facilier is a menace. You see the problems that could be caused if His Majesty's subjects were to discover that magic was real?"
Barrie frowned. "You mean if they learned the truth."
"The truth is best administered in small doses," Somerset advised. "There's magic in the Enchanted Forest and what do you have? You have curses and sleeping spells and a bunch of fairies spouting rules and people making stupid deals to solve their problems. Do you know what you don't have?"
"Do enlighten me," said Joseph.
Somerset stepped closer. "Electricity. The steam engine. Telephones. Airplanes, automobiles. I could go on, but you get the idea. If people here knew magic existed no one would ever try to solve their own problems again and this world would descend into barbarism."
"And this is why you're after Facilier?"
"It is exactly why."
Jenna pulled a book off one of the shelves. Somerset approached.
"I wouldn't waste my time."
Jenna opened it to blank pages. "Oh, I would."
"And what's so interesting about a blank book?"
Jenna looked up. "You don't know what this is, do you?"
"Enlighten me."
Joseph looked. "You don't mean it's a storybook?"
"It's blank," Somerset objected.
"This belongs to the Author. He writes all the tales of our world, choosing heroes and villains..."
"Choosing?," asked Somerset.
"Yeah, he's an ass," said Louise.
"This is good," said Jenna. "This is really good."
"How do blank storybook pages help us?," asked Joseph.
"We can go into the book," said Jenna.
"Go into it?," asked Barrie. "How?"
Jenna shrugged. "Magic."
Louise nodded. "Yeah, we just go in there and all we need is someone to let us out in about a hundred years."
"We just need to write a story she'll want to read."
"Right," said Joseph, "so that leaves a Doctor Who novel, some sort of tie-in novel of Downton Abbey..."
"Or," Jenna interrupted, "the thing we actually have the author of."
Somerset interrupted. "And why should His Majesty's government give it to you?"
Joseph stepped forward towards Somerset.
"Because I will find your Doctor Facilier and from there, you can do with him as you wish."
"The man for the pages," said Somerset. "Fair enough. I do hope you know what you're doing, Mr. Holmes."
Joseph turned to Barrie.
"And how will you get Doyle to write it?," he asked.
"I hadn't thought that far ahead."
Now
The park was relatively crowded with children, nannies and parents, the gloomy weather not being a deterrent.
Beatrice turned to her entourage. They were the ones sticking out like sore thumbs, not least of whom was Cruella with her big fur coat and two-tone wardrobe choices.
"Okay, could you all not stand in one big weird clump?," asked Beatrice. "Like seriously someone will call the cops."
"Is that them?," Belle asked, motioning at the ginger twins who ran off from Mariah and their little brother.
"That's them," said Beatrice. She looked back at the entourage. "Uh, I've got this."
"I'm good with children," said Regina.
Beatrice frowned. "Didn't you poison me?"
"I haven't poisoned anyone in a while now."
"How many days has it been, darling?," asked Cruella.
Regina glared at Cruella and looked back at Beatrice. "You wanted to put the baby under a preservation spell."
"That was just a childcare suggestion."
Merlin pushed Belle forward. "You go with her. You're good with children and you actually seem to like them."
The girls spotted Beatrice coming. She glanced over at the nanny as they waved at her. The girl seemed to be on her phone as the boy toddled around the sandbox. She approached carefully, partially obscured by a tree.
"So, Kate and Chloe?"
"I'm Kate, this is Chloe."
"Okay," said Beatrice, kneeling down. "I'll try to keep that straight."
"Are you really the Dark Princess?"
"Yeah?"
"Do something with your ice powers," Chloe challenged.
"Girls," Belle cautioned as she knelt down next to her daughter, "Princess Beatrice has to keep her ice powers a secret. Perhaps some other time?"
Kate gasped. "You're Princess Belle!"
"Well, I mostly go by Belle, but yes," she smiled.
"Where's Beast?," Kate demanded.
"Beatrice's father is right over there," Belle said pointing at Gold.
"What happened to his scales?," asked Chloe. "I liked his scales."
"Well, so do I really, but I love him as he is."
Beatrice cleared his throat. "So, what's this about John?"
"Right," said Chloe, "John has been strange."
"How?," asked Belle.
"He won't play with us anymore," said Kate.
"He doesn't even go to work at the hospital."
Beatrice frowned. "What?"
"And I told you he doesn't like apples anymore," said Chloe. "And he's mean. And all he does is go on dates."
"And when did he start behaving this way?," asked Belle.
"Last Friday."
Beatrice looked at her mother. "The day Moriarty said..."
"Okay," said Belle. "But how is that possible?"
"I don't know. I've got like five magic experts over there trying not to look suspicious and failing."
"Is that Cruella De Vil?," asked Chloe.
"Yeah, no one's quite explained to me what's going on with her," said Beatrice.
"Chloe! Kate!," called Mariah.
"We have to go back," said Chloe. She dragged her sister and ran off.
Then
Doyle was not amused at the idea as he was presented with it.
"You wish me to write a novel so you can hide yourselves in it?," he asked.
"Not so much hide as transport ourselves," said Jenna.
"I remember most of the plot from the episode," said Louise. "You can just fill in with whatever."
Doyle stared back at them.
"So if you could just get typing..." said Joseph. Doyle stared at him. "Here's a start, 'Once upon a time...'"
"I am not really interested in writing another Sherlock Holmes story," said Doyle.
"Why? Because you have so much going on with your spiritualist research?," Joseph asked.
"It brought you here!"
"It's asinine! Besides, I wouldn't want to distract you from the fairy hoax coming your way..."
"Fairy hoax?," asked Doyle.
"Doyle," said Barrie, "they need this to return home."
"I want to write another Professor Challenger novel," he replied pointedly.
"Spoiler alert, nobody gives a damn about Professor Challenger in a hundred years," said Louise.
"Exactly," said Joseph. "I'm the moneymaker."
Jenna sat down next to Doyle and smiled.
"You're going to write this novel or we are going to stay here until we die."
"There's the Gold family blood asserting itself," said Joseph.
Now
"It could be several things," said Gold, back in the car. "A glamour, an enchantment, someone could have his heart. I would have to lay eyes on him to know which."
Beatrice stared out the window.
"Beatrice?," Gold asked softly. "Are you listening?"
"Yeah, yeah, spell, glamour, etcetera..."
"We should probably decide what to do about dinner," said Belle. "I hate to waste the time sitting in the room."
Beatrice leaned forward to the driver. "Excuse me?"
"Yes, Miss Gold?"
"Is there a bookstore around here?"
"Waterstone's, Miss. They ought to have anything you're looking for."
"Could you drop me there?," asked Beatrice.
"You can just take us there and wait," Belle said quickly.
Gold looked at her.
"What? It's a bookstore."
It was only a few blocks before the Mercedes pulled in front of a huge grayish modern building. Beatrice stepped out first as her parents followed her inside.
"I just need to find the Sir Arthur Conan Doyle section," said Beatrice.
There was no answer. She stopped and turned to see her mother's eyes having glazed over as Belle feasted her eyes on floor after floor of books.
"It's all books," she whispered reverently. She turned to her husband. "Rumple, it's all books."
"Yes, sweetheart," Gold said resignedly.
Without speaking, Belle handed over her purse.
"The sign says they close at ten," Gold called after her.
"Uh-huh," Belle said absentmindedly, vanishing into the shelves.
Gold looked at Beatrice.
"I hope this place has security to get the customers out at night or we may never see your mother again." He walked next to her. "What is it you're looking for?"
"The Adventure of the Gold Pendant." She quickly located a map. "Fiction, two floors up."
"Lead the way."
They rode the elevator up and Gold dutifully followed Beatrice.
"What is it you're looking for?," he asked.
"I'm in a Sherlock Holmes story, I want to know why."
"I doubt you'll find that in the book even if it is you."
"Um, it's so me and it's so you..."
"Me?"
"Uh, what do you think that spinning straw into gold line was there for?," she asked as she checked the shelves.
"I look nothing like... what was his name? Wasn't he in that zombie movie that gave you nightmares?"
"Robert Carlyle and yes. You could blame Bae for that." She shrugged as she kept walking. "Also, there was the cane thing, the quiet threatening..."
Beatrice went down the aisle. "It's not here."
Gold cleared his throat and quietly nodded at the endcap. It was a full Sherlock display with two teenage girls blocking it. The Adventure of the Gold Pendant featured prominently with artwork from the Christmas special on the cover.
"How can you ship Bealock?," one of the girls said.
"I like it."
"People are shipping me..." Beatrice whispered to her father.
"What does that mean?," Gold whispered back.
"It was just a one-off, it doesn't mean anything."
"So what? They aren't going to do Sheriarty."
"I'm in a ship war now," Beatrice whispered.
"Sweetheart, I really have no idea what you mean."
The two girls looked up.
"Sorry, just needed one of those," said Beatrice, reaching into the shelf for a copy of the book.
"Oh, great," said the Sheriarty shipper. "Another poser Bealock shipper."
"How dare you," said Gold.
Beatrice eyed her father. "You don't even know what we're talking about."
"I know an obnoxious ingrate when I see one." Gold pointed. "Go."
"You can't tell me to go away."
"Yes, I can. Go."
The girl scowled and left.
"Really not necessary," said Beatrice.
"I didn't like her tone," said Gold.
Then
Joseph put the page down and looked at Doyle. He'd been watching over the author even after the others retied for the evening.
"That's your description?"
Doyle continued plodding away at the typewriter. "You know I won't get anything done with you looking over my shoulder."
"The best you can say is that she had an excellent figure?"
"It's Watson's description," he said plaintively.
"Well, perhaps you could talk about her eyes, how deep they are, how her beauty is beyond compare..."
Doyle frowned. "Do you know I think you have the wrong writer?"
"Excellent figure is not going to cut it. Not to mention what reaction her father's going to have when he reads that."
"Sitting there won't help me write any faster."
"Well, let me make certain you write correctly at least."
Now
Gold walked into Beatrice's bedroom. She had fallen asleep with the lamp on and the new Sherlock Holms book open. He walked over, turned the lamp off and gave her a kiss on the cheek, taking the book with him.
Belle was in the main area of the suite, already in her nightgown as she arranged her purchases. They covered the dinner table and chairs and several other available surfaces.
"Rumple, did you realize they had an entire section for first editions?," she said in amazement. "And they had a whole other section for Russian books."
Gold frowned. "Can you read Russian?"
"I found a book on it. I'll figure it out."
"Ah."
Belle motioned at the paperback he held. "Isn't that Beatrice's?"
"I wanted to have a look for myself."
Belle walked over and took it from him. "There's illustrations."
"I'm not interested in the pictures so much as if this is actually about Beatrice."
"It seemed like Beatrice," Belle said, flipping through pages. "And you. Here we go..."
"What?"
"Her description. 'I looked up to see the new visitor to Baker Street. Indeed, her reputation was not without merit. In another life, she might have been the sort of young lady knights would slay dragons for and I believe my friend would have gladly been one of them.'"
"That does sound like Beatrice," said Gold.
"It doesn't sound like Doyle, though," mused Belle. "And he hardly ever gave Holmes a love interest. Just-"
"I know," said Gold, sitting on the sofa. "Irene Adler. She doesn't really hold a candle to Beatrice."
Belle smiled as she curled up next to him on the sofa. "Oh, there's a foreword from Steven Moffat."
"I know that name, don't I?"
"Probably from when Beatrice called him a sadist." She pillowed her head on her husband's chest. "It explains that this story was one of the lost Sherlock Holmes stories and was only rediscovered in the summer of 2014, a century after scholars believe it was originally written."
"Why would it have been lost?"
"It doesn't say."
"Is there a happy ending?"
"I'll let you know," Belle smiled as she began to read.
