The home that Mr. Gold had been (for lack of a better word) given sixteen years ago was large. Far too large for one man, just as Rumplestilskin's castle had been. But he was rather glad that it was so enormous, for he was able to pick a bedroom at random and designate it as Emma Swan's. It was one the second floor, down a few doors, just private enough to make her feel comfortable but not so far away as to make him have to climb a million flights of stairs to get to her, if need be.
On the particular evening that Emma was to arrive her caseworker in tow Rumplestilskin was as close to nervous as the Dark One was capable of being. The last adolescent he'd ever been anything resembling 'nurturing' towards was Baelfire, what seemed like an eternity ago. Hell, it was an eternity ago.
Now he was faced with a girl a teenaged one, no less. If her parents were anything to go by, Swan would be a spirited one. Powerful, too; a product of true love, the purest of magics. He'd assess that later, however, after she'd settled and he'd gained a modicum of her trust. A difficult feat, most likely, made so by the horrors she'd endured whilst in the foster system. Rumplestilskin wasn't a good man by any stretch of the imagination, but there were some lines even he wouldn't cross, and most of them were contained within Emma's personal file.
Regardless of the girl's past, they were both going to have to focus on the future. Finding his son and leaving this miserable, magic-less realm was high on his list of priorities, and he harbored no qualms about using a sixteen year old child to gain what he wanted mostly because his interested directly coincided with someone else's for the first time in a while, and Swan would gain her happy ending as much as he was.
The kettle was on, keeping the water for tea gently warming, while three cups sat waiting on the counter. If there was one thing Gold was good at, it was tea. The liquid stuff simply seemed to assist in any situation, and he doubted this would be the exception.
At nearly ten o'clock in Storybrooke there wasn't exactly a lot of traffic, let alone on the remote little road Gold's home resided on. And so when headlights gleamed through the darkness outside, flashing across the windows and casting strange shadows across the rooms, Gold knew it was time. Taking a breath, he stood from his seat at the large kitchen table, wincing as his knee throbbed, and straightened his jacket as the car door slammed from outside.
Were Emma less on edge, she might have fallen asleep on the car ride through the seemingly endless forest. Once the remote houses and occasional rest stops ended, there was nothing but dark, winding road bordered by tall and imposing trees. With the rain pouring down on them it was the very definition of a 'dark and stormy night', made even more so by the old fashioned looking sign that seemed to come out of nowhere alongside the road.
Welcome to Storybrooke, it read, in a large, swirling font, and Emma sat up straighter, pressing her face against the window in order to see more clearly.
''I think we're here,'' Amanda said from the driver's seat, slowing down as they passed a few houses.
Town came upon them very suddenly where there had been nothing but trees and darkness just seconds ago, there was suddenly a stoplight, blinking in the darkness, and they were turning onto a long street. Main street, by the looks of it some shops had lighted windows, mannequins resting in the display, others had porchlights illuminating the doorways and signs. A repair garage, a diner, a bakery...all of it normal, all vacant. The clock tower they passed had stopped working: its hands displayed eight fifteen, whereas Emma knew it was well past ten.
The buildings dwindled as quickly as they had began appearing, and Amanda signaled for a left turn into a secluded driveway. The house at the end of it was lit, porch lights and inside lights, and a single car was parked outside of it.
''We're here.''
The car engine turned off, and the rain splashing to the roof was much more audible. Amanda opened her car door, wincing as the downpour immediately began to soak through her blouse.
Emma grabbed her backpack and slide across the seat, opening the door and rolling her neck around as she stepped from the car, staring with mild trepidation up at the house it had to be three stories, plus an attic, even. So large for someone without a family.
Amanda was making a mad dash for the shelter of the porch, and Emma followed, stomach churning as she saw the front door begin to open, and a man step onto the porch, shaking Amanda's offered hand with the only one of his not holding a cane.
''Yes, we found it perfectly,'' Amanda was saying, ''it looks very nice.''
''It's quite lovely, when we aren't subjected to this downpour,'' Mr. Gold said easily, shifting his eyes away from Amanda's as Emma stepped up onto the porch. ''You must be Emma. Please, come inside, both of you. It's far too cold out here.''
He retreated, and they followed, Emma keeping her hands safely tucked in her pockets as she traipsed in. The entryway was no less impressive than the rest of the house it was large, roomy, and open, a table with a vase of flowers to one side, and a set of coat-hooks along the opposite wall.
''I have some tea on,'' Gold announced, leading them towards a stairway with his limping gait, ''but I'll show you to your room first. I'm sure you're tired.''
''A little,'' Emma offered, ''thanks.''
Second floor, a few doors down. The door was already open and Emma stepped into the room, blinking as the overhead light was flicked on. The sight of a queen sized bed, plus a desk, closet, bookshelf, and window seat greeted her, and she was momentarily shocked the only time she'd ever occupied a room this big was with another girl, and they had had twin beds. This was...
''It's very nice,'' Emma said, sliding her backpack off of her shoulder and turning around slowly, taking it all in. ''Roomy.''
''I do hope you find it comfortable. You can choose a difference comforter, if you like the green seemed a safe choice for the time being.''
Indeed it was a rich, almost forest green duvet adorned the bed, which had at least four pillows piled upon it.
For once in her life, Emma was lost for words. It was a rare occasion indeed when she couldn't come up with something, however awkward or deprecating, to say, but it was the sheer fact that she had a bedroom in a home in a harmless town, a room that had clearly been waiting for her, planned for her, that was overwhelming, to say the least.
''You're tired, I'm sure,'' Gold continued, and Emma turned back to face the doorway. ''we'll just let you settle in. There's tea downstairs, you can bring it up here if you'd prefer.''
''No, I'll I'll come down. I'm just gonna take a minute...'' A minute to what? Emma didn't know. But Gold nodded, apparently satisfied, and withdrew from the room, pulling Amanda with him and engaging her in a conversation that faded as they descended the stairs.
Emma exhaled the breath she'd been holding for what seemed like forever, and moved to take a seat on the bed. It was soft, and the comforter was as plushy and thick as it looked. She spread her hands over the soft satiny fabric and felt an incredible fatigue wash over her, despite the fact that she'd been seated in a car for over four hours.
Gold had said there was tea downstairs. Emma had to bid Amanda goodbye anyway, so there wasn't a real chance for her to just curl up in bed right then and sleep for a good ten hours or so. Heaving herself up again, she shrugged her coat off, leaving it on the end of the bed before opening the bedroom door again tentatively. The smell of herbal tea wafted up, and voices could be heard from what Emma assumed to be the living room that she'd passed so briefly on her way up.
Now or never. She began to descend the stairs carefully, taking in the house around her. It wasn't as heavily decorated as one might expect an older house to be; there were a couple of paintings placed along the walls, but no family photos. The wallpaper was tasteful and lush, and a neat pad of paper was placed next to a phone that sat on a table beside the stairs. The carpet was clean, the lighting warm and inviting, and there seriously appeared to be nothing wrong with the place, unless there were bodies hiding in the basement or in the walls or something. Emma snorted at her own train of thought, shaking her head as she reached the bottom of the stairs.
''You have my number both of them. This one is my cell, the other's the office. If you have any trouble, or questions, all you have to do is call.''
As if Emma was a problem kid, or something it wasn't like she was going to set fire to the guy's curtains or something.
''Miss Swan seems like a lovely girl. I think we'll get on quite well.''
Gold sounded as though he had a lot of experience in reassuring people, the smooth talker. Though it was nice to hear that she had made a good enough impression, at least.
The grandfather clock propped against a wall was just a few minutes shy of chiming on the hour, and Emma stifled a yawn with her arm.
''Well, I should head out.''
''Are you certain you don't want to stay for the night? There's plenty of room.''
''Oh, no, I couldn't do that. I have to be in DC by noon tomorrow, so it's going to be a long trip. I'd better start now.''
''At least let me brew you some coffee wouldn't want you drifting across lanes from exhaustion, eh?''
They shared a small chuckle as Emma entered the room. Amanda was standing, and Gold was turning the corner into the kitchen.
''Now, Emma,'' Amanda began as the clattering of cups and movement in the kitchen ensued, ''I want you to be happy. Do you like it here?''
Did she like it here? Small town USA was never Emma's forte. But this Mr. Gold was a little weird, and Emma found herself drawn to him...and would could two years hurt, anyway? Unless he turned out to be a serial murderer or women hater of some kind.
''Yeah, I think it's nice.''
Amanda smiled. ''You'll make friends soon, too. School starts for you on Monday. I've told Mr. Gold how independent you are, and while I'm sure you'll talk about rules very soon, he seems like a very accommodating man.''
Er, good? Maybe? Emma nodded for lack of any other response. Amanda patted her shoulder.
''You'll do fine here.''
''Here you are, dearie.'' Gold entered the room once again, holding a small Styrofoam cup of steaming liquid. ''you're sure you don't want a room?''
''Oh, no,'' Amanda said, sipping at the coffee with a small sigh. ''I've really got to be going. Mr Gold, thank you.''
''No, thank you, dear.'' Clasping her hand in both of his, Gold smiled. ''This house is far too big for just one.''
''I'm sure you'll both enjoy it. I'll speak to you in two weeks, Emma.'' Kissing her cheek pretty unexpectedly, too, Emma hadn't seen that one coming -, Amanda shrugged her coat on and picked up her coffee. ''Goodnight, you two.''
Emma and Gold's goodbyes mingled together as Amanda gave them one last little wave before stepping out into the pouring rain, and closing the door behind her.
''Are you hungry, Miss Swan?''
Shaking her head, Emma watched Amanda's headlights disappear out onto the road. ''No, thank you. I'm a little tired, actually.''
''Oh, yes, of course. By all means, get some rest. The drive was long, and I'm sure you've had quite the day. I'm afraid I'm not much of a cook, so how would you like breakfast in town tomorrow?''
''That's fine,'' Emma replied, sticking her hands in her pockets. ''I'm not much of a cook either, actually.''
''I can boil water, but I believe that to be the extent of my abilities in the kitchen,'' Gold said with a wry smile.
Emma snorted. ''Yeah, I hear you.''
''Granny's is usually the place to be here. Let's say, around nine?''
''Sounds good, Mr. Gold.''
''Sleep well then, Emma.''
Smiling and waving at him goodnight, Emma turned and ascended the stairs again, slumping briefly against her bedroom door as she closed it behind her.
What a day. Emma's exhaustion grew the longer she stood, until she was practically falling into bed after brushing her teeth and turning the overhead light off. Yawning, she curled up on her side, facing the bookshelf on the wall. It was almost bare, as she'd thought upon first glance, but six books rested on it most looked as if they were merely resting there as a result of Mr. Gold running out of room on another bookshelf, although one in particular looked out of place among the other thick, dark colored tomes: Emma squinted in the dim light to see the spine of the book, and she could just barely make out the glittering letters: Once Upon a Time.
Huh. She hadn't pegged Gold as the fairytale type.
Flopping over onto her back, Emma felt sleep taking her, and any thoughts of the book were forgotten as she slipped into dreamless slumber.