"With that dress, we could bankroll the entire town, love," Killian said, eyeing the red dress Emma was holding out from the rack.
She glanced over her shoulder at him. "It's not exactly practical, and you've made us more than enough money." She stuffed the dress back in the rack, and Killian reached over her, pulling it off the rack.
"Worry about practical tomorrow," he said. "You deserve pretty things. Buy the damned dress and lets have a night out. Eat dinner. Go dancing."
Emma gnawed her lip, then nodded. "Okay. But only because I've been stuck in prison," she said. "And I'm going to need shoes to go with it."
"Buy whatever you want, Swan. I can get us more money if we need it."
"I think you just want to see me in a low-cut dress," she remarked, grabbing the dress out of his hands.
"I'm a gentleman, love. I'm not dead."
"Come on. I can't wait to get out of these stinking coveralls." She grabbed a pair of jeans with designer pockets, underwear, a tee shirt and button up shirt to complete her purchases, then headed over to the register. Killian laid his own purchases down on the counter beside hers.
"Another leather jacket?" she noted.
"I like leather," he said. "And this one has zappers."
"Zippers. They're called zippers. And it looks like something a bad eighties hair band would wear."
He gave her a look, and slid the jacket off the counter. "Very well, then," he looked over at the salesgirl, who was trying her hardest not to stare - unsuccessfully.
"What do you suggest?" He asked her.
"Me?" The girl looked flustered. "Uh...are you going out someplace or staying in?"
"Out," Killian said.
"In," Emma answered at the same time.
"First we're going out," Killian amended smoothly, "then we'll be staying in." His eyes held Emma's and she tried not to notice the salesgirl, staring at the both of them with her mouth open.
"We have a really nice jacket," the girl said, coming around the counter. "And if you pair it up with a button-up shirt, we can take 10% right now."
Killian gave her a killer smile. "By all means," he said, gesturing toward the rack of jackets.
"Do you know your size? I can measure you if you need me to," the girl volunteered - a little too eagerly.
"How about you ring me up," Emma suggested, "And I can get changed while you wrap a tape measure around his chest and shoulders?" She gave the girl a pointed look and she hurried back behind the counter as Killian carefully bit back a smile. A few moments later, she'd removed the sensor tags and found Emma a pair of accompanying red stiletto sandals, and Emma headed off for the fitting room.
"Don't take too long," Emma called over her shoulder. "He's got plans."
Killian raised both brows and smiled apologetically at the salesgirl. "Now then," he said. "Let's get on with the measuring, shall we?"
The girl reached for her tape measure with a decidedly shaky hand.
###
David stared down at the book in his hands, and shook his head. He'd been on his way to pick up Catherine from one of Neal's feeding when he passed Henry on the way out, in the company of Dr. Whale and a rather bedraggled looking woman. Henry had said hello, and then a few moments later, he came running back, pushing the book into his hands while insisting that he try reading it to Mary Margaret.
Dr. Whale had rolled his eyes, and for some reason, that somehow made David want to try it. It was crazy, but since it was his turn to bring Neal, he wanted to try it. The nurse had already come in and settled the baby into place, so David pulled up a chair, laying the book on the edge of the bed.
"Henry says this is your favorite book," he said. He glanced over at the door, but none of the nurses seemed to be paying him much attention. He leaned forward slightly.
"Look, I know what I felt," he said. "If you're trying to...communicate somehow...I just..." he trailed off uncertainly. "I'm listening. I'm here, and I'm listening."
He opened the book, pulling it onto his lap and began reading the first story. He found himself drawn into it, the words passing before his eyes in a blur as he seemed to know them all by heart even as he read them. The stories flowed from one to the next, and he kept turning pages, caught up in all of them, story after story, so strange yet so familiar...
"These stories," he mumbled. "I know them. I know that I know them."
Neal made a frustrated sound as he slipped off the breast and David closed up the book, laying it on the bed. He picked Neal up, leaning him on his shoulder and patting his back to burp him as he glanced out toward the nurse's station. It was empty - they must all be on their rounds. He wasn't sure he knew what to do here...but surely Neal could do the rest if he just got him close, right?
He shifted Mary Margaret's gown to the other side, trying not look too lingeringly as he settled Neal against her, carefully turning the baby's head toward the waiting meal. Neal rooted for a moment, then found his target, curling his fist near his face and suckling contentedly.
"There," David said, his eyes crinkling with his smile. "I'm practically a pro. And he definitely is." He stroked Neal's downy soft head as he looked down on Mary Margaret's peaceful face.
Something about her, laying there in quiet repose seemed to call to him. His hand moved almost without a signal from his brain, reaching out to stroke her hair, then sliding down to brush his knuckles gently against her cheek.
"You are so beautiful," he whispered. His hand moved over to touch Neal's head again. "Both of you. Whoever it was that left you behind was a fool. He doesn't deserve you."
He knew it was all kinds of wrong, but he just couldn't stop himself. He leaned in and gently kissed her lips.
Her voice was no more than a whisper.
"David?"
He looked at her, feeling like he was swimming up from a long way down. The room seemed to move and shift around them as her equally startled eyes met his. The name came to his mind and formed on his lips, and he knew, he knew, he knew the truth of it.
"Snow?"
###
Belle stretched, realizing she was warm and her bed felt incredibly soft. She must be dreaming, but it felt wonderful and she didn't want to open her eyes and ruin it. Finally, she realized she couldn't ignore her body's basic needs anymore and with a sigh, she opened her eyes.
"Belle?" Henry leaned in. "Belle, do you know who I am?"
She looked up at him in confusion. "No..." she sat up abruptly, looking around. "W-where am I?"
Henry looked over at Regina who raised her brows. "She's lost all her memories, just like David."
"Y-you called me Belle..." Belle said softly. "Is that my name?"
"Yes. Your name is Belle," Henry said. "And I'm Henry and this is my -" He stopped and Regina gave a slight shake of her head. "This is Mayor Mills," he continued. "Do you know how you got put in the isolation ward?"
"Is that where I was? They kept giving me pills..."
"We got that stopped," Regina said, moving around to stand at the foot of her bed. "And I had you remanded into my custody. Dr. Hopper will be here later this afternoon to examine you, and I think he'll agree that you don't have go back there."
Belle's eyes filled with tears. "Thank you. Thank you so much. I don't know who put me there, or why. I don't even know how long I've been there."
Regina looked uncomfortable. "You haven't been in too long, from what we can tell."
"You used to be the town librarian," Henry said. "Do you remember that?"
"Librarian?" She looked from Henry to Regina. "I don't remember. I'm sorry."
"Do you remember a man named Gold?" Regina asked carefully. Belle shook her head silently.
"Well, I guess the first thing we -" Regina cut off as the phone in Henry's pocket suddenly rang. He reached down, pulling it out and then he made a confused face when he saw the number.
"Who is it?" Regina asked.
"I don't know. I don't recognize the number," he said. "Area code 702." He held the phone up to his ear.
"Hello?"
And his face lit up like the Christmas tree at Rockefeller center and his voice was nearly a shout.
"Mom!"
###
Emma tapped the button on the phone, ending the conversation, and set her forehead against the back of the phone she'd just bought.
"He's okay. He's really okay," she said.
Killian gave her a crooked smile as he pulled her close and she rested her head against his shoulder.
"Didn't I tell you so? The lad has his mother's smarts. We'll be there tomorrow and he and Regina will be that much closer to figuring it all out."
"I haven't felt this relieved since -" she stopped.
He leaned back to look at her. "Since when?"
"Since I looked up from a dirty oven and saw you standing there."
"Did you ever doubt me?"
She reached up and carefully pushed a lock of hair out of his eyes. "You know," she said, "I didn't. Not really."
"Nothing could have kept me from finding you, Swan."
She leaned in, and she didn't have to lean far. His lips settled on hers with their usual practiced skill and she sank into the feel of him, her hands sliding up his chest and around his neck as the kiss went on. He pulled back, only to dive in once more, his lips pulling at hers again and again until he finally stopped out of sheer self-preservation.
"It's been too long, love," he said huskily, touching his forehead to hers.
"I've missed you, too," she murmured. "But this is going to get embarrassing if we don't slow it down."
"Well then," he said, sliding his hand down to twine it with hers. "I promised you dinner and dancing, and as we've already eaten, that only leaves one more thing before we can call it an evening."
"Dancing?" Emma raised a brow and gave him a sideways smirk. "Gotta warn you...I learned to dance from the best."
He smiled back, and brought her hand up to his lips. "I've hardly begun to show you what we can do together, love." He started walking backwards, pulling her through the doorway in the club area of the casino. The club was more of a cabaret, and the sultry sounds of a woman singing "Unforgettable" carried across the dance floor.
"You know this kind of dancing?" Emma asked doubtfully.
He led her to the center of the floor,weaving his way through the couples around them, and then he pulled her slowly into his arms, cradling her close. His lips brushed her ear, sending tingles down her spine as he spoke.
"I know how to hold you well enough," he said softly. "And I'm sure we'll move together perfectly," he added. "With...or without music."
He moved them in a slow, swaying, sensuous circle around the dance floor, and Emma laid her head against his shoulder, enjoying the warm feeling of his hand against her lower back, the slow slide of his thumb as it caressed her. She felt his lips against the skin of her neck and shoulder.
"Killian..." she murmured dreamily.
"Yes, love?"
"I think we only need one room."
His hand tightened and she could feel his smile against her skin.