Three

Even if he'd had his magic in this world, the arrangements couldn't have been made much faster. Mr. Gold had seen to all the necessities – some decent yet comfortable clothes for the girl, bi-weekly therapy sessions, a private room paid in advance for the next month at the long-term care clinic, even a few personal touches so the room wouldn't feel so utilitarian. It was only a beginning, but for now, it would have to do.

Only a licensed psychotherapist could declare Rose fit to re-enter society. That meant, of course, that Archie Hopper was the key to setting his beloved completely free. At one time, that might have vexed Mr. Gold, but no longer. Now that the good doctor had bucked off the mayor's bit and harness, he had no qualms whatsoever about leaving Rose in his care.

Nothing on this earth could keep me away. Except concern for Rose's well-being, he amended privately, unlocking his house and staggering into bed fully dressed. Until he could face her with a modicum of self-control, he knew he had to stay away, so she could recover in peace.

He ran his face between his thin hands, wiping away the utter shock of finding his true love among the living. As much as he'd have liked to let his heart run away with him, though, this was no time for being sentimental. There were practical matters to consider. Matters involving that heinous witch Regina Mills.

She knew, of course. She knew Belle was alive in the other world, just as she'd known she was alive in this one. Like a game-winning ace, she'd kept her tucked firmly up her sleeve, letting the poor girl rot away in a cell without daylight or companionship – no doubt waiting for the right moment to play her trump card.

In the other world, he'd at least had his wits about him enough to find out for himself what had become of Belle. The Queen's story checked out, or so he'd thought – Belle had been locked in a tower and scourged by so-called 'holy' men, for declaring that the Dark One was her friend. It sickened him, that she should have suffered and wanted to die on his account. Even worse was the thought that he might have prevented it. The Queen had already accosted Belle once, and the girl's life among her family and community had been one of misery. Why hadn't he realized that, one way or the other, dismissing her from his castle meant throwing her out of the kettle and into the fire?

Mr. Gold shut his eyes and tightened his jaw, reminding himself to strategize. There was no use lying here berating himself over past failures. That wasn't going to help anyone. When he finally relaxed enough to fade into sleep, his dreams were torture enough.

*LL*

Thunk-thunk-thunk-thunk. The noise insistently repeated, forcing Mr. Gold's eyes open. Irritated, he stirred, feeling as though he was hung over. He growled at whoever had the audacity to disturb him here, and hobbled towards the door. His face turned even more sour when he saw the person waiting impatiently behind it. "Well, well, well. Madam Mayor. Bit early for a visit, don't you think?"

"It's after eleven," Regina pointed out acridly, holding up her wristwatch as evidence. "You weren't at your shop."

"I do own it. I've a right to close up and sleep in when I please," came his riposte. "What could be so urgent that you had to come banging on my door?"

The mayor arched her chin. "Let me in, and I'll tell you."

"I'd rather not. I'm, as you know, a private man," Mr. Gold replied evenly, "and very protective when it comes to my property. I don't like anyone else touching what belongs to me."

Regina's eyes narrowed. She caught his double meaning. "Fine. Be at the diner in fifteen minutes and we'll talk there."

The diner was the most public hangout in Storybrooke and it was nearly lunchtime, guaranteeing a crowd. Good, he thought quickly. Neutral territory. He changed into another suit and headed out.

When he slid into the booth across from Regina, she was angrily stirring sugar into a cup of coffee. It seemed ironic that she would enjoy anything sweet. "So, what's on your mind?" he asked directly, folding his hands and trying not to gloat too strongly.

"You fired Anna Stacy, a highly qualified and hardworking nurse, and you're threatening to close off an entire wing of the hospital. Of which I'm on the board," the mayor related.

"The board of which I'm chairman," he reminded her. "Have you seen that wing lately?"

"Very recently, in fact," Regina said archly. "Last time I checked, it was missing a patient."

"How do you know that, I wonder? Do you have them electronically tagged?" Mr. Gold smirked.

"Cut the crap," she flatly replied. "I know you have her."

"Have who?" he asked, feigning innocence.

"You know who," Regina muttered. "Your former… housekeeper."

Mr. Gold narrowed his eyes. "And how would that be possible? I had it on good authority that my housekeeper passed away, years ago. Unless I was wrongly informed."

The mayor sneered at him. "So that's how you want to play? Fine. I guess we have nothing further to discuss. I'll take my lunch to go." When she stood and grabbed her leather purse, the long-haired man halted her with his cane.

"Oh, I'm not playing," he remarked icily. "Games are your specialty, not mine. And this one is over."

Regina pushed his cane off of her. "Threatening me with an assault weapon?"

"I would never threaten you," he smiled, revealing the gold on one of his teeth; meaning, of course, he'd never give her fair warning. He lowered his cane, reveling in the fact that, for the moment, he had her stumped. "Enjoy your lunch."

*LL*

A/N: Anna Stacy = Anastasia, one of the two wicked stepsisters. ;)