Chapter Two: The Hand That Spins the Wheel

Of all the characters I've written about, Gold/Rumpel has got to be the hardest personality to peg. Has anyone else noticed how much of a drastic change his demeanor takes from fairy tale to real world? He seems to have almost a manic personality in fairytale land, while in Storybrooke he seems more reserved. I would have thought that personality would stay the same, but with the route that I'm taking with this story, I can actually use that to my advantage. I think.

We'll find out!

SOOOO, I just heard a rumor that the evil queen is the miller's daughter. If this is true I'm going to be pissed. Mostly because I want to believe that Rumple will have his happy ending . But I've also decided that when this comes around I'm going to work it in too. Somehow. I guess I'll find out whether or not I can spin these words into gold! … Sorry, I couldn't resist.

"So I hear you had a nice chat with Penelope," Mr. Gold said as he approached Elroy, who glanced briefly at him before returning to his notes.

"She's a lovely girl. Why wouldn't I want to have a 'nice chat' with her?"

Mr. Gold tightened his grip on his walking cane, but the nurse took no notice, either due to lack of observance or conceit in his own actions. "Mind if I ask what the discussion was about?"

"Actually," Elroy slid the clipboard into a cubby on the wall and turned to the older man, whom he seemed to loom over. "I do."

Gold's lips set into a thin line as he narrowed his gaze to threatening slits. "Perhaps I should remind you that the girl is here under my insurance, and under contract any matters concerning her are to be reported to me."

Elroy almost smirked, but at the very least knew where to draw the line at cockiness in front of Gold. "I think you mean to say 'legal and medical matters,'" he countered. "NOT private conversations between two consensual adults. If you have a problem with that," Elroy turned away from Mr. Gold, dismissing him. "Take it up with the Mayor."

Gold had known that intimidation would only get him so far, especially with someone as arrogant as Elroy. "You have a point," he sighed, scanning the cubby holes filled with clipboards and stacks of files. "Penelope is 26 years old, after all; I shouldn't pry into her affairs." His eyes fell on a file labeled 'Miller, P.' He pulled it out with long, swift fingers. "Although, I would hate to see you forced to resign due to indecent affairs with a patient." Gold slipped the file into his suit jacket just as Elroy turned to glare at him.

"Glad we had a chance to talk," Gold said with a wry smile and wink as he walked back to the common area, where he had left Penelope. He didn't need magic to tear a man down in the world, which both simplified and complicated things. Magic would have made it quicker, but dirtied the hands.

"I didn't know you were claustrophobic."

Penelope turned away from the window at the sound of Gold's voice. "I'm not—where did you get that?"

"Just lying around," he murmured teasingly as he thumbed through the pages. "Prone to violent fits…" he arched an eyebrow at her. "I can see that." She stuck out her lip in a pout for answer. "List of medications; nothing abnormal," yet nothing truly necessary, either, but he kept that information to himself. "Ah, here we are: recent visitors."

"Oh please. You know you are the only person who comes in to check on me." Penelope crossed her arms and leaned a shoulder into the glass, watching those who passed below.

"I've never come in to 'check in on you,' dearie, you're not a piece of property." Penelope gave him a look that clearly told him she did not believe him. "Nevertheless," he continued, "I see your father's been around."

Penelope's head snapped around, a look of surprise and anger sparking across her face. "What?" she hissed.

"He hasn't seen you?"

"No."

"Well, then fortunately for him he hasn't breached his contract. Must have been a new volunteer listing him as one of your visitors. Still," he trailed off, and Penelope finished his thought.

"He has no business being here."

"Tell me, what was it exactly that Elroy told you today?"

Penelope's brow scrunched as she continued to stare out the window, her eyes focused on nothing in particular. She was silent a moment before answering. "I can't really remember."

Gold tapped his finger on the bind of the folder, pushing a stray lock of dusty brown hair behind his ear. He was becoming increasingly suspicious. "How can you not remember? This barely happened an hour ago."

"Guess it wasn't important," she muttered but Gold could tell that it bothered her to not be able to retrieve that information.

He closed the file and tucked it under his arm. "I think you should stay away from Mr. Elroy King for the time being."

Penelope turned and looked him straight in the eye, giving him the full effect of her large, round blue orbs. "I think you should mind your own business." Gold gave her a disapproving look as he reached out and ran his thumb along her cheek. She did not shy away from his touch, but the look in her eyes made it known to him that his touch wasn't welcome. He ignored it.

"You are my business, dearie, whether you like it or not."

He was right to come in today, he realized as he turned and walked away. It seemed that events were progressing, with or without him; he needed to make sure he kept the ball rolling in the right direction.

Conner Miller grunted as he pulled himself off the couch when he heard the tapping. He set his can of beer on the coffee table, sans coaster, and grumbled his way to the front door.

Mr. Gold stood on the other side.

Conner stuttered his name in surprise; he hadn't seen the man since he signed that contract… how many years ago had it been?

"May I come in?"

"Uh… s-sure, yeah," Conner moved to the side to let Mr. Gold cross the threshold into the small hutch of his mobile home. His eyes glanced over the modest surroundings, taking notice of the empty beer cans and other trash lying around. Conner couldn't help but notice how out of place the man looked, wearing designer suits in an unkempt trailer.

"A little bird told me you've been hanging around Storybrooke's Psychiatric Hospital," Gold cut to the chase as he scrutinized the short, greasy man.

"Elroy's my friend," Conner defended himself, scratching the gray bristles on his chin. "Ain't got nuthin to do with our contract."

"Strange, I wouldn't think you and he would have anything in common, besides Penelope, of course." Gold's stare was unrelenting. When Conner only shuddered and fought down the lump in his throat, Gold stepped towards him. The man smelled of sweat and yeast. "It would be in your best interest that I don't discover that she's been the topic of your conversations." He could see fear forming like smoke in the man's eyes. "if you have something to tell me, it's best to tell me now."

Conner's eyes began to move as his mouth did—stumbling, darting, quivering—they danced around every object in the room but never met Mr. Gold's form. His fear of the man was as uncomfortably strong as over-sweetened fudge, choking the back of one's throat.

"E-Elroy, he… he's taken a liking to my girl. Gonna take care of her real good; we both know yer generosity's gonna run out soon. Gotta think about my options…"

Mr. Gold decided to be patient. One wrong word and he might find the man sobbing on the floor. "Mr. Miller… what did you do?" he asked, his Scottish brogue tilting his voice in an almost sing song tone, punctuating every word.

Conner licked his lips, still avoiding Gold's gaze, looking for all the world like he was trying to find the right words to convey his thoughts. Mr. Miller was a man of limited education and expressed himself through action; words were not easy to come by. "He's got 'er files, ya know. He can say she's right as rain an' she'll be out. Den he can take care of her."

Gold realized what he had was a situation where one man was too self absorbed to think of the consequences, and one man that was too stupid to think ahead. Good thing Penelope had at least one intelligent man in her life, he considered. What would that ungrateful girl do without him? He knew that Elroy wouldn't be able to alter her files without the approval of Archie Hopper, her psychologist, and once the man was discovered for forgery, he would be fired and Mr. Gold would be confronted as legal guardian about the endangerment of Penelope. He would then be able to request to have the girl taken out and, given the circumstances, kept as he saw fit.

Things were working out so perfectly he could have laughed. In fact, he did.

Conner shuddered at the sound of the man chuckling beside him, his eyes growing ever rounder. He knew that if someone like Mr. Gold was laughing after hearing what he thought would be bad news something was very, very wrong.

"What'd I say?"

Gold gave Conner a dark smile, almost threatening, yet boastful at the same time. "Happy endings don't work like that. Not for you. Not for her. Not here."

Trees. Storybrooke would never be at a loss for trees. They seemed to grow like a hydra out there, ten sprouting up where one was cut down. It must have been their sole purpose to wall them off from the rest of the world, and so far they had succeeded. Nobody had ever left Storybrooke, not that Penelope could recall, but she wasn't really interested in leaving. She didn't want to stay, but she couldn't imagine leaving. She didn't really know what she wanted, or where she wanted to be, but she thought that maybe it would be nice to not feel passed around for once. To make a decision that didn't hinge on the outcome of a contract that she had never even made.

At that moment she was being 'passed' over to Mr. Gold's care. The man had finally gotten what he had wanted. She should have known he would never have taken no for an answer. But what was he getting out of this? Was this just some sick game to him, to flex his power like invisible muscles over every inhabitant of Storybrooke? Well, everyone but the mayor, but there were enough rumors to suggest that he had his own unique hold over her as well.

'Holy crap, I feel like Annie,' she thought as the cab pulled up to Gold's estate. She half expected some bald guy and several butlers and maids to burst out of the door welcoming her in with a musical number, but everything remained eerily still. She let out a breath as the cab came to a stop. If she were in a musical, she would bet that it would be closer to Phantom of the Opera. "Still better than Sweeney Todd," she breathed. "Although I'd even take Into the Woods."

"What about the woods?" The driver asked as he opened the passenger door for her. Since she had made no move to exit the vehicle, the driver had decided to come around and escort her out. He had places to be.

"Oh," Penelope could feel herself blush when she found out he had heard her talking to herself. She decided to play it off. "Just talking to myself. You know us crazy people." She grinned at him and slid out, dragging her duffel bag—just large enough to carry everything she owned—out with her. The driver gave her an uneasy smile and sidled off, eager to peal out of the massive driveway.

Penelope shouldered her bag and clambered up the steps to the front door, shifting the weight on her shoulder until she found the least painful spot that the strap could dig into. Raising her fist to the door, she swallowed hard, and realized how dry her throat was. 'It's just the effects of the medication leaving my system,' she told herself, but she knew that there was another reason for her apprehension. Upon being pulled from the institute, it had been announced that all prescriptions she had been taking were false and she would no longer be using them. It was a pity; she had gotten used to the numbness.

She tapped her knuckles on the French doors, each knock getting louder than the first as she tried to swallow her anxiety. With her last brush against the door, however, she wondered how successful she would be if she simply ran away.

'And do what?' she asked herself. She had no money, no job—and who would hire a psych ward outpatient? Her shoulders slumped with the realization. "I hate my life."

On the other side of the door, she heard a girl calling out. Penelope leaned closer, trying to make out what the voice was saying.

"Coming! I'll be right—," the voice was cut off with a loud crash and the sound of something banging against the floor. Eyes wide, Penelope continued to stare at the dark wood, wondering if she should barge in and help or burst out laughing.

Finally the door turned inward, revealing a girl with blond hair who was holding a broom that was broken in half.

"Damn thing just walked right in front of me! Hello!"

"Hi…" Penelope wasn't sure what to say that would accurately explain her situation to the young girl standing in front of her. She had hoped that Mr. Gold would be the one to meet her and give her a few answers.

"Oh, yes, you're Penelope. Come in!" The younger girl moved away from the door, kicking a bucket behind her in the process. "Please be careful, I knocked over a bucket of water."

"Yes, I see…" she tip toed over the waterlogged floor, not wanting the water to soak through her converse. Nothing worse than soggy socks. She felt like a child who would skip over cracks in the sidewalk because she had just learned about the superstition that stepping on one could break your mother's back.

"My name is Ashley. I'm the maid; Mr. Gold told me all about you. I'll show you up to your room if you want." Ashley smiled warmly at her as she made her way to the large staircase that curved elegantly to the second floor, not quite as worried about the water as Penelope was.

"So, am I going to be cleaning here too?" Penelope asked as she followed Ashley up the stairs. Ashley shot a confused look behind her and risked tripping once more.

"Why would you do that?"

Penelope blinked and shook her head, feeling like an idiot. "I don't know. Nevermind." Ashley stopped in the middle of the stairwell.

"Oh my God," she moaned, "are you my replacement? He's going to fire me, isn't he? Oh, this can't happen, how am I going to feed Alexandria?" her hands came up to her forehead, rubbing her temples. Penelope felt like even more of an idiot.

"N-no! No, of course not. If anything, we'll be partners, I'm just… I'm not sure what I'm doing here." Penelope was stammering, which she did a lot when she got nervous. She wished that she could sound more convincing, especially when she caught a glimpse of tears in the girls eyes, but she honestly didn't know what Mr. Gold's plans were. For all she knew he would lock the two girls in the basement and burn the house down. The man was impossible to predict.

"Oh," Ashley nodded, worry still etched into every tiny, premature line on her face. "Of course." She turned and continued up the stairs.

"Is he here?" Penelope quickly changed the subject. She wasn't entirely looking forward to being around him as often as her new living quarters would force her to be, but a distraction wouldn't be unwelcome either.

"No, he's a busy man. He usually comes home around seven, sometimes later. Sometimes he comes home in the middle of the day, though. Must be nice, getting to make your own schedule. Here we are!" She opened a door halfway down the hall, and Penelope could feel her eyes strain as they attempted to take in the expanse of the room. It was like a five star hotel, or the honeymoon suite, not that she had ever seen one first hand. The bedroom was easily half the size of her father's trailer, and the canopy bed looked like it was meant to hold several people.

Penelope let her duffel bag slip off of her shoulder and slump to the floor. "Okay…" she breathed, turning her eyes upon every inch of the room. There was a vanity in one corner, a couple of bookshelves, a door which she could only assume lead to the walk-in closet, and another door which gave her a peek into an attached bathroom.

"It's not really furnished, but," Ashley grunted as she hefted up Penelope's abandoned luggage. "We didn't have a lot of time to prepare."

"Are you kidding? This is amazing." She shook her head. Forget about being uncomfortable with living in Mr. Gold's house—she could just stay in this room forever if she could figure out how to get her meals in. She noticed Ashley lift her bag onto a settee in front of the bed and thanked her as the girl walked back out of the room.

"I'll let you go ahead and get unpacked. I'll be here all day, so once you're ready I'll give you the grand tour."

When Gold's sleek black Ferrari slowed to a stop in the circular driveway in front of his estate, he could see through the orange dusk that Ashley was leaving for the night. He stepped out of the car as he addressed the woman descending the front steps.

"How did she like the place?" he asked, and the small smirk he wore disappeared when he saw the worried look on the teen's face.

"You know, she really liked her room, but when I let her unpack I never saw her after that." Ashley tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear and shrugged. "It's probably a hard transition for her to make."

His eyes darted up to the second story window that filtered the last bit of sunlight into the room Penelope was staying in. There was no light on inside the room, and he could not see any movement from his vantage point. He would have to inspect the situation from within.

"Thank you Ashley, I'll see you in a few days." He brushed past her and unlocked the door, swinging it shut behind him as he advanced up the stairs as quickly as his injured leg would allow. If he thought about it long enough, Mr. Gold would realize that he wasn't worried about the girl leaving, or being in poor health. He knew that neither would be likely, but he was a man who was so addicted to having his way that it frazzled his nerves to think that something could have possibly gone awry.

He stopped in front of her door and listened for any movement. Even though the girl had not even been there for a full day, and though the house was Gold's possession, he still considered the room to belong to her and felt that barging in would be inappropriate.

Not to mention that it would work in opposition of the necessity of her liking him.

Hearing nothing, and noticing the door slightly ajar, Gold nudged the amber colored wood with the toe of his shoe. It creaked quietly as it gave way; normally Mr. Gold would request to have such a hitch fixed immediately, but decided that it would come in handy when listening for sneaky residents.

Inside the room he could see Penelope lying on her back horizontally on the bed, her feet hanging off the edge. Her duffel bag lay packed and unzipped on the settee, and she hadn't bothered to remove her shoes. He could tell by her even breathing that she was sleeping, and it must have taken her unaware. He walked over to her, picking up his cane so that it wouldn't thump against the floor. Sitting on the edge of the bed where he was closer to her face, he leaned over her, realizing that the last time he had watched her sleep was decades before the curse had taken hold. She was much less angry then, but then so was he. Perhaps now when everything was so wrong he could finally start to make things right with them.

As he fingered a strand of her brown hair, he had a vague recollection of how his own hand used to gleam with a sickly gold sheen. His impish form had been so repulsive to many people—he could see it in their stares—but now he was just like her. She had rejected him before, but everyone makes mistakes. This time, he would simply not allow her to make a decision. Then she couldn't make the wrong one. And when he knew that she loved him as much as he had loved her, he would make her feel as rejected and torn as he had been on that day.

He stared at her soft, pale lips that were parted welcomingly. True love's first kiss. He wondered if she had been kissed before. He was certainly trying very hard to be patient and remain aloof, but she was sleeping… what was the harm?

He leaned over and brushed his mouth against hers. It was something he waited so, so long to do, and he relished the thought of finally possessing her mouth with his own when she was fully comprehensive. He kissed her longingly, but not too deeply. She was as soft as he had dreamed and sweeter. As he pulled himself away he held his breath, almost hoping that her eyes would flutter open as if the magic of his kiss had awakened her from the curse.

She twitched slightly, but continued to sleep.

Of course, he should have known, that particular fairytale belonged to someone else.

A/N: I will be unveiling a little bit more about Penelope's and Rumple's past a little bit at a time. I thought about putting a bit of the fairytale past in this chapter, but decided to wait until the next episode so that I can see what is revealed.