"Come in, the door's unlocked!" she called from the kitchen when he knocked.
"That doesn't seem very safe for this neighborhood," he murmured while he walked down the hall to her kitchen.
"I heard that, you rude man! It's Storybrooke, what's the worst that could happen?"
"Don't they always say that in that crappy teen vampire show you watch? Learn from the fictional story and don't say that!" he set down the drinks he was carrying and went to the cabinet to get glasses.
She smiled as he got progressively got comfortable in her home and laughed, "I can't believe you even remember that. We watched it one time because my DVR was broken. One time!"
"Worst 43 minutes of my life. Worse than a divorce hearing with Milah," he poured the cider and she brought the pasta and salad to the table.
"I'll agree, it's a terrible show, but I only watch it for one of the actors who has a great ac-." She stopped herself, blushed, and turned around quickly to get the bread.
His eyebrows raised, "Why Ms. French, I didn't believe you were so vulgar. You watch a show produced for a teen audience because one of the actors has a great ass? I had such a high opinion of you, but now…" he scoffed.
She blushed even more and took off her apron, "No! I didn't finish."
"Mhm sure, I cannot unsee you as a hormonal teenage girl now."
"Accent! He has a great accent. Happy?" she exclaimed and sat down with a huff.
"Oh you like his accent aye?" He asked with a smirk while laying his on thick.
She leaned across and smacked him with her apron, "He's English not Scottish you self-satisfied ass."
"Eck a bunch of glaikit fearties," he rolled his eyes.
"At least I can understand them when they're insulting a person. You just sound like you're spouting nonsense, which you usually are."
"How about we agree to disagree when it comes to our opinions on the English, lass?" He held up his glass.
She held up hers, "Agreed. Cheers."
They clinked glasses and ate the meal grinning the entire time. Again, he noticed, sans ring.
"Of course I need to change the light bulb. I'm not going to just leave it dark when I'm expecting company," she grumbled at the lazy Gold sprawled on her couch.
"I'm just saying let me or maybe your fiancé change it. You're clumsy; you'll end up breaking your neck."
She left the room to go get a light bulb, her dress flouncing and bare feet padding across the hardwood floor, "I don't need a man to change a light bulb. I can do it myself."
He rolled his eyes and stood up, "At least let me spot you, you stubborn woman."
"I heard that you rude man," she replied when she came back to the kitchen. "Fine, you may spot me."
He cringed as she climbed atop the table and switched out the light bulbs.
"There, easy," she said but then misjudged the step down to the chair and would have fallen to the floor had Gold not caught her.
He raised his eyebrows at her, "Don't need a—?"
She glared, "Shut up."