Once, And Forever Ch 6 - Rain Rain Go Away
A/N So sorry t took me so long to get this chapter up. I hit a major block, but I think I knocked it down. :) Oh, I thought about calling this chapter Gold n Showers, but changed my mind because it's misleading in two ways. Either it brings to mind something kinda, well eww, or we think of Gold in the shower, not that that's a bad thing, I mean come on, Gold in the shower, ahem s'cuse me. But sadly no shower scene, yet. I may now have to write one in a later chapter for my own amusement. Anyways, I hope you all enjoy this one.
"Siddney is gone," Mary-Margaret told Emma over her morning coffee. There was a huge write-up about it in the paper. Emma's eyebrow shot up, and she sneered.
"He was a sucker. What he saw in the woman I'll never know. I guess she's pretty and all, but her personality is seriously lacking," she replied looking over the paper.
"Well, at least Kathryn is safe now. I can't believe he was involved in that," Mary-Margaret said disdainfully. Emma nodded. She couldn't either. Idiot!
"So, what do you have planned for today?" Emma asked Mary-Margaret. She shrugged.
"It's supposed to be warm today. I may see if David feels like a picnic in the park. How about you?" she asked sipping her juice, and swiping the local section, and glancing at it. Emma smiled.
"I'm getting some sun today. I'm starting to feel like an albino," she said, and Mary-Margaret giggled into her hand.
"Yeah really! I'm supposed to be Snow White! What the hell?" she asked, and Emma laughed, but then sobered.
"Hey Mare, do you think it's possible for a parent to forget they ever had a child? Like if they had long term amnesia or something?" she asked. Mary-Margaret shrugged.
"I guess, although that would really be a question for Archie, or Doctor Whale. Or you could always Google it. Why?" she asked, watching Emma closely. She shivered slightly.
"It's just something August said. How long have you know Marco?" she wanted to know, no needed to know if Mary-Margaret could tell her anything.
"Since I've lived here. Why? What does that have to do with August?" she asked her.
"He's claiming Marco is his father," she said, and Mary-Margaret looked shocked.
"He has a kid? He always said he and his wife couldn't have kids," she replied, confused.
"Apparently he was mistaken," Emma said snidely.
"Well, I could see a father not knowing, I mean he doesn't have to be there for the birth for it to happen. I can't see a mother not knowing her own child. Some things, you just know, know what I mean?" she said, and Emma nodded.
"I guess. I'm heading out before the sun disappears for the day," she said quickly. Maybe this was the wrong time to talk about this. She wasn't just wondering about August now, and Mary-Margaret had given her chills. Was it possible? No. Not possible. Not at all possible! She shook her head and walked over to the empty chaise lounge off the entrance way. She had been waiting so long for this. A sunny day at last! She settled herself into the chair and kicked back, staring up and the puffy white clouds as the drifted lazily across the sky.
Emma breathed deeply. Some of the earliest blooming flowers were starting to blossom. Spring was here, and she was happy. She was tired of the cold, not that Boston had been much warmer, but still, this was a whole different cold. It crept into your bones, and lingered there. She closed her eyes and sighed, soaking up the warmth.
She was running in the woods, fast as she could run. Tears flowed freely from her eyes. She carried little, just a small bundle, and it was light. Panting as she ran, her chest feeling like it was on fire. It hurt so much, so much. Love, she had read about so often, but it hand never been described as something that burned you from the inside out.
Through a copse of trees she saw something white flash by. She thought at first it was a swan about to take flight, it's wings unfurled. She was wrong and ran right into the 'swan' which turned out to be a frightened young woman's long white cloak. She fell back on the thick green moss of the forest floor.
"Oh my! I'm so sorry! I didn't see you there!" the woman cried. "Here, let me help you," she said.
"I'm alright," she told the girl and made to sit up on her own. "I didn't see you either. I thought perhaps you were a swan or something. The woman giggled.
"I've never been mistaken for a bird before," she said, then she noticed the tears running down her face. "Oh, are you hurt? Or lost? I'm lost myself. My huntsman abandoned me to the wilds, but it's better than death I suppose," she mused.
"I"m not so sure about that," she told the girl.
"What's your name?" the woman asked. She knew she couldn't tell her real name. Everyone knew her as the imp's whore.
"Call me Rose," she said looking away from the woman.
"I'm Sn, I mean call me Swan if you like. It's a pretty name," she said. "I'm an outlaw now, so I shouldn't tell you who I am. It could be dangerous, since the queen wants me dead," she told her.
"The queen?" she repeated, and got a chill.
"Regina. You should steer clear of her. She's not a nice person," Swan told her.
"Dark hair, and darker eyes? Blood red lips? Fancies black everything?" she asked, and Swan gasped.
"You've met her?" she asked in surprise. She nodded in response.
"Oh yes, we met. She tricked me into something that ended up costing me the man I love!" she snarled. Swan gasped.
"Is that why you were crying? Did something happen to him?" she asked her.
"No, I broke his trust, thinking I was doing something good. He won't believe that I'm not working for the queen," she began to cry again feeling ashamed for breaking down in front of a complete stranger, but she was so hurt, so raw. Swan wrapped her arm around her shoulder, and let her cry.
Shhh, don't cry Rose. You should go back to him. Find some way to convince him that you were tricked. Don't give up on love," she said, her voice full of promise. "Love is hope. Love is the best kind of magic," Swan chirped, making her chuckle mirthlessly and look up at the hopeful woman in front of her.
"That may be true, but even the best kind of magic comes with a price," she said wisely. "Not even love is free, true as it may be. You still have to pay," she sighed. "The price is high, and it hurts like you wouldn't believe you can hurt. When there's a hole as deep as the sky inside you, you'll know you've had love and lost it. Paid in full," she said cynically. Swan shook her head.
"I've never been in love, so I can't begin to understand how you feel, but you shouldn't give up," Swan told her, patting her arm gently. She smiled at her.
"When you find love, treasure it. It's a vapor, and just like that," she said snapping her fingers. "It can be gone," she told her.
"Well, where are you going? Do you have a place to stay?" Swan asked her.
"No, not anymore. I'm going to try to go speak to my father, but I doubt I'll have much luck there," she told her with a little shrug. Then they heard baying in the distance, and Swan jumped up.
"They are looking for me! I'm sorry Rose, but I must go. Think on what I said," she said as a parting remark before taking off into the trees. One final flash of white cloak, and she was gone.
Sighing she took off in the opposite direction. If the owner of those hounds worked for that wretched queen she wanted no part of them. She had cost her enough for one lifetime.
Emma opened her eyes, and wiped at her face. Had she been crying? Shit no! Stupid rain! So much for getting some sun. She shrieked as the sky opened up and it began to pour torrents, and it was cold. She jumped up and sprinted for the apartment door as fast as she could. By the time she got inside she was soaked to the bone.
She hurried upstairs to get some dry clothes, and to write down her dream. That had been strange! She had called Mary-Margaret, or a girl that looked a lot like her Swan. Her last name, which was weird. She had been talking weird, and apparently Regina was the queen and had somehow come between her and that guy she kept dreaming about. That sounded like something she'd do, she had tried to break up Mary-Margaret and David, but it was a dream. A very messed up dream, but still just a dream
Now that she had the rest of the day to herself she wondered what to do. Her conversation with August kept playing on her mind. How, if August was Marco's son was it possible that Marco didn't remember him? He'd been serious about being the kid who found her, and leaving his home, when he was seven. How do you have a kid for that long and not remember them?
She decided that she'd go nuts if she thought about it too long. Getting up to go forage for something lunch-worthy, and it didn't take long to realize that it was time to go grocery shopping and closed the refrigerator door with a sigh. Just then the door burst open and Mary-Margaret came through it with David in tow. They had three bags of groceries, and were both dripping wet, and laughing. Emma grinned. They were psychic. Mom and Dad to the rescue.
"I see the rain caught you too," Emma said with a laugh. They looked over at her, and David plunked the wet bags on the table, and shook the water from his hair.
"Mind the floor, you're not a dog you know," Mary-Margaret chided him, heading for the bathroom. David's grin matched Emma's.
"I work with them all day, so I guess I'm turning into one. Arf arf!" he joked. Emma chuckled shaking her head at him. "Are you hungry? We got enough food to feed and army," he offered. Emma shrugged.
"I guess, but aren't you two on a date?" she asked awkwardly. The last thing she wanted to do was intrude. He waved it off.
"Nah, Mary-Margaret won't mind either," he said nodding at her as she came back with two towels.
"Won't mind what?" she asked coming back in wearing a long white bathrobe handing one to David, and wrapping the other one around her wet hair.
"If Emma eats lunch with us," he replied. Mary-Margaret smiled.
"Of course I don't mind," she said to Emma, then turned to David. "You need to go get out of those wet clothes. I have a spare robe on the back of the bathroom door, she told him pulling things out of bags. He nodded, and turned to go change. After a moment he bellowed.
"Really? You couldn't have left the white one for me?" Mary-Margaret giggled. Emma looked over at her wryly.
"Oh Mare what did you do?" Emma asked, and her friend covered her mouth.
"My spare robe is pink, with little yellow butterflies on it," she said laughing in earnest now. Emma glanced toward the bathroom, and broke out laughing as well.
"Oh yeah, laugh it up you two," David called, and came out wearing it, and posed in the doorway. "Say what you want, I make this look good," he said, and they laughed even harder. Emma grabbed for her phone.
"This is going in The Mirror on your birthday daddio!" Emma quipped snapping a picture. David smirked.
"Go ahead, I'll get ya," he laughed. "And you," he rounded on Mary-Margaret. "You set me up," he accused her playfully. "You took the white one," he said pointing at her.
"Yes, the white silk one, with lace. Which do you think would bring out your feminine side best hmm?" she asked. He smiled.
Emma smiled too as she watched them tease each other. In all her life she'd never felt at home anywhere, except here. This odd little town, with it's odd little people, of course Emma was the rough side of normal herself so it fit in a way.
Lunch was fun, but Emma began to feel a bit like a fifth wheel. She loved the fact that they were together, and it was nice to see them happy, but it did nothing to stave off her unease when they began making kissy faces at each other.
There was a knock at the door startling her out of her daze. She looked out the door and a grin spread across her face. Henry! She flung open the door and he stood there grinning from ear to ear before barreling into her full throttle.
"Emma! I missed you!" he cried. Emma's eyes misted, and she smiled down at her son.
"I missed you too kid, but what are you doing here? If Regina finds out," she warned. He shrugged.
"Grace is covering for me. I'm at her house until three thirty, and the queen is in a meeting until four. I thought of something, and I had to show you!" he said, then looked around her to wave at Mary-Margaret and David. They waved back.
"Want some snicker-doodles Henry?" Mary-Margaret offered. His face lit up.
"Sure!" he said brightly. "Can we eat them in your room Emma? Cobra stuff," he said letting his voice drop conspiratorially. She glanced over at Mary-Margaret.
"Is it okay? I promise I won't spill," Emma teased crossing her heart. Mary-Margaret giggled. Henry smiled at them.
"You're a nut Emma! Go on," she replied handing over a plate of cookies and two glasses of milk.
They climbed up to Emma's room and sat on the floor by the window to watch the rain. Henry pulled his book out of his bag, and Emma gave him a weird look.
"How'd you get the book? I had it locked up," she said, and he smirked.
"Jefferson got it for me. He's in Operation Cobra you know," he told her simply. Emma nodded.
"Right, of course he is. So what did you want to show me?" she asked, and he flipped the book open.
"We have a happy ending to fix. This is Kathryn, you know David's 'wife'," he said quote unquote, and showed Emma a picture of Princess Abigail. Emma wrinkled her nose, and looked confused.
"Who is she supposed to be?" she asked him. He turned to the first page of the story.
"She's the daughter of King Midas. And who did you say found her car when she disappeared?" Henry asked, and Emma shrugged.
"The gym teacher at your school. Rich Dolyn. Why?" she asked and Henry pointed to the golden knight.
"He's Sir Fredrick. He's Kathryn's true love," Henry told her.
"So you want to play matchmaker?" she asked. He grinned.
"Maybe. We need a plan," he said taking in his surroundings. His eyes fell on the broken mirror. "What happened over there?" he asked. Emma looked out the window sheepishly.
"I happened. It's nothing," she said, and Henry snickered.
"You hit the mirror? That's awesome!" he said. "Did it do something? Did you see something?" Henry asked excitedly. Emma rolled her eyes and showed Henry her hand.
"Yes I did. I saw stars. Never ever punch a mirror, cuz the mirror will win every time," she told him with a little chuckle. Henry laughed. His mom was the coolest!
"Anyway that's just one I've figured out," he told her, handing over the book. "There's a ton more," Emma eyed her son.
"Do you ever do your homework, or do you just sit around spinning theories all day?" she asked ruffling his hair. He batted her hand away.
"I do my homework, but this is important Emma," he told her, and she nodded. She looked over at him and sighed.
"Look kid, I know you think this is all real, but you gotta make schoolwork a priority, yeah?" she told him and he nodded.
"It is. I make almost straight A's. Now will you help me?" he prodded. She smirked and looked down at the book. One of the illustrations caught her eye. A grand hall in a large castle with a large spinning wheel in the corner of the room. Emma gazed at it a minute, and then the picture came alive. A vision swam before her eyes, 'the wheel spun beneath his hand, and the windows, and a ladder, and falling down, and arms catching her, then those eyes,'
"Emma? What is it Emma?" Henry asked her. He shook her and the room faded back into view.
"Huh?" she said blankly. Henry looked concerned, and excited.
"Did it move?" he asked her. She looked up at him. How did he know. She nodded, and lay the book down carefully, pulling her fingers back as if they had been burned.
"The only one that moves for me is the Snow White story. I think it may be because we're related, but I don't know, if this one moved for you. Why were you looking at Beauty and the Beast?" he asked her.
"I saw that castle in a dream," she stammered. "What is it?"
"It's the dark castle. Where the Dark One lives. He's the beast in my book, Rumpelstiltskin," Henry a said turning a page and showing her a picture of him. Emma's mouth went dry, and she almost passed out. It was the man from her dream, right there in the book. Wild hair, wild eyes, it was him!
"Rumpel! That's his name!" Emma said, looking like she'd been struck by lightning. Henry looked worried. No one called the Dark One Rumpel!
"You dreamed about Rumpelstiltskin? Why?" Henry asked munching on another cookie. "He's kind of a bad guy," Emma shrugged, and glanced back at the window.
"I don't know. I've had a lot of weird dreams lately. I think I've got Cobra on the brain," she said with a little laugh. Henry shook his head.
"It means something Emma! Tell me what you dreamed," he begged. Emma shook her head.
"No, some of them are too violent," she protested. "You'd have nightmares," she said. He shrugged.
"I already do. I've dreamed about the queen cutting out my heart," he said. "So tell me yours. They can't be as bad as that," he defended, and Emma stared at her poor little boy, scared his adoptive mother would rip out his heart! She swallowed the lump in her throat.
"I dream about people that I've met since I've been here, but in medieval clothes, and stuff," she said.
"You're dreaming about the Enchanted Forest Emma! I know it!" Henry said happily. "It's a sign, it has to be!" he said, and she sighed.
"Henry, it's probably like I said. I looked at your book, and picked it up from there," she reasoned. He shook his head.
"No, it's not. Tell me what you dreamed about Rumpelstiltskin," he said, and she had to think about it. She didn't want to tell him about everything she dreamed.
Well, I dreamed that I lived with Rumpelstiltskin in his castle. I worked for him or something," she admitted. Henry turned the page again, and showed her a picture of Belle.
"You dreamed you were her?" he asked, and Emma blanched. That was the same dress and everything!
"I never see my own face, but I was wearing that dress!" Emma said, and looked up at her son with wonder. "Why am I dreaming about this Henry?" she asked hoping he'd have an answer.
"Well, either you have some sort of strange power for seeing the stories as they happened, or you were Belle before the curse," he said giving her a simple answer that only a child could give. "Which would be uber cool since you already have one story," he said watching her face. She shook her head.
"Belle's not real Henry. She's a character in a book. I don't know why I'm having these dreams but that can't be it," she said vehemently."Besides, let's say for a moment that all of this is real. I'm Emma, born a baby right before the curse struck. How could I be both? If you're right then wouldn't Belle be here trapped with everyone else?" she asked him skeptically. He shook his head.
"Belle wasn't alive when the curse hit, see?" Henry turned another page, and showed her the picture of Belle trapped in the tower window. "She jumped out of a tower to get away from some bad men. She didn't survive the fall," he said sadly. Emma stared at the picture that mirrored her dream perfectly. Her eyes filled with tears. She looked away, and swiped a hand across her eyes.
"You okay Emma?" he asked her. She nodded. No way was she going to let Henry see her cry over a story in a book.
"It's just a sad ending. I thought fairy tales all had happy endings," she told him.
"Not anymore. Not until we help bring them back," he said in a determined voice that proved he was hers. He made her almost believe in magic. What if. She glanced at the clock.
"Oh man kid! You gotta go! It's late, and your mom'll cut my heart out if she catches you here!" she told him. He nodded, and packed the book away. "Do you want me to drive you to Grace's house?" she asked him.
"Would you? It's still raining," he said. Emma nodded, and stood up. She might as well go see August if she was gonna get him to take that test. She needed him to do it now, for her sanity.
She waved at Mary-Margaret and David who were snuggled on the sofa watching a movie, before taking Henry out to the car. He buckled up and they drove over to Grace's house. She was waiting for him on the porch, and waved when they pulled up.
"You dodged a bullet. Your mom just called. I told her you were sick to your stomach and in the bathroom puking. You might want to call her back and tell you're okay. She was ready to rush over here" she said. Henry's face fell.
"I'm sorry I made you lie Grace," he said, and Emma looked at him.
"I thought your name was Paige," she told the girl. She smiled.
"Grace is my code name," she said proudly. "I think it's a much prettier name than Paige," she looked at Henry. "I don't mind lying if it means you get to be with your real mom, she said. Emma smirked.
"I guess you don't like Regina much?" Emma asked her. Grace shook her head.
"She's mean. But you're not. You're nice to Henry, and you have kind eyes," she told Emma, making her blush a little.
"Thanks," she told Grace before turning to Henry. "Call her now. I'm going," she said with a wave.
"See ya soon Emma!" Henry called, and darted into the house to call his worrisome mother.
Emma got in the car and headed over to Granny's B&B where August was staying. She sat there for a moment poring over what Henry had told her. There was no way any of that was real. No way. She was just tired. The picture didn't really move. It was just an optical illusion.
She got out of the car and walked into the building. She headed for August's room and knocked on the door. He didn't answer the door right away, and when he did he was moving kind of slowly. His eyes brightened a little.
"Hi Emma. Whatcha need?" he grunted in pain, and leaned on the door-frame.
"Your blood, and Marco's if he will," she said bluntly. He looked surprised.
"You're gonna test it?" he asked, and she nodded.
"I have to, for my own sanity," shew said to him. He grinned.
"You believe me?" he asked hopefully.
"I believe it's possible that Marco may not know you are his son. I'm going out on limb here, but I have to know. For my own piece of mind," she told him. "Come on, let's go do this," he winced, and stopped her.
"How are we going to get Marco to agree?" he asked her. "I can't lie anymore, or that'll be it," he told her gravely, his eyes held no hint of a lie at all. Emma sighed.
"Are you sure there's no way a doctor can help you? We can find you treatment someplace else," she suggested. He shrugged.
"If we can manage to get back home there's treatment there, but here, there's nothing anyone can do, except you," he said sadly. Emma blew out an exasperated breath.
"Look, I'm not saying I believe you about the curse thing. But I do believe you're sick, and if it turns out that Marco is really your dad, well we'll cross that bridge when we get there," she told him. August smiled.
"Thanks for trusting me Emma," he said, and leaned on the door-frame wearily . She sighed.
"Come on then. I'll think of something to tell Marco." she helped August into her car.
She came up with a fantastic story about August having some rare form of sickle cell anemia, and asked Marco if he'd let her test his blood for typing, telling him that August hadn't really befriended anyone else and he needed it, and she was the wrong type. He agreed without hesitation, smiling warmly at August.
"Why didn't you tell me you were sick my boy?" he asked, cuffing August kindly on the back of the neck.
"I was enjoying wood-working again, and I didn't want you treating me like a terminal patient or something," he replied honestly with a small shrug.
"Well, you should have said something regardless!" Marco chastened him. "Not to worry, if I can help you, I will," he told him. August smiled, and Emma got a chill.
So they headed to the hospital, and gave blood samples to someone Emma trusted not to screw it up.
Doctor Underwood was the only doctor she trusted completely. He was an older man, and sweet as the day was long. She told him not to tell anyone what it was for, and to give the results to her, or Jefferson, but not anyone else. Just to be sure. She knew Jefferson wouldn't do anything to them.
"It'll take a few days sheriff, but I'll handle it personally. We don't want another repeat of the Nolan debacle," he said tersely.
"Me neither. Thanks for doing this Doc," she said, and he looked at her strangely.
"Doc?" he seemed lost in his own head for a second, then returned to normal. "Right, well I'll take care of everything sheriff, never fear," he said and turned to take the samples to the lab.
"She dropped August at Granny's because Marco told him to go rest. He hadn't wanted to, but with him insisting like that he had to go. He thanked Emma again before she left.
Emma sighed and turned to go home. In a way she hoped that Mary-Margaret and David's date was over by now. She drove down the street, and noticed the lights on the dash beginning to dim. She shifted into neutral and edged it over against the curb before it sputtered and died. Emma slapped the steering wheel in fury.
"Oh come on, really?" she snarled, and yanked the door open, shrieking as buckets of ice-cold rain poured on her as she rushed to the front of the car and put the hood up. She leaned in and looked dumbly at her engine, hoping she could stare it into starting. The Force was not gonna be any help here.
She was no mechanic, but it seemed like the battery had died. Perfect! And her without jumper cables. She'd lent hers to David. Wonderful! She raised up and hit her head on the inside of the hood.
"Shit!" she cried and came out from underneath it, and rubbed the top of her head vigorously. "Damn stupid car!" she swore. Now she was drenched, and had a concussion. Fan-fucking-tastic! Just then the rain stopped falling on her as a shadow loomed over her. She half expected to find a grizzly bear behind her. She turned and instead saw Mister Gold, holding an umbrella over her head.
"Need a hand dearie?" he asked her. She sighed in relief, and smiled at him, a genuine glad-to-see-you type smile. Her hero! Oh hell no, she so did not just think that!
"Thanks," she said, nodding to the umbrella. "And yeah, I think my battery is dead. Do you have any jumper cables?" she asked hopefully.
"I have some in my car, but unfortunately, since the weather was nice this morning I left my car at home today," he said ironically. "You are welcome to come inside my shop and dry off. You can phone the garage as well," he offered. Emma bit her lip, and then nodded. She was dripping wet, and the icy water was running down into her boots.
Gold held out the umbrella for her to take, and extended his free hand to her, as the other was gripping his cane. She took hold of his arm so they could both walk beneath the umbrella, and let him lead her to the door of his shop. She released him so he could open the door, and he ushered her inside, then took the umbrella to shake the water from it, before depositing it in the stand near the door.
Emma was shivering now, and as he turned to face her, he noticed. He had been watching her from inside his shop, and had heard her shriek from the rain. Thankfully she'd broken down just outside his shop, and he had been able to assist her quickly. Fate did smile on him occasionally.
"My dear, you must be freezing, let me see if I have something for you to change into. Can't have our sheriff catching pneumonia now can we?" he said lightly. She slid out of her jacket, and it hit the floor with a dull squishy 'splat' heavy with rainwater. She fished her cell phone from her pocket and checked it for water damage. It still worked, thank goodness, and walked further in the shop to lay it on the counter.
"Thanks," she said, hopping on the spot a little, tugging at the wet t-shirt that clung to her like a second skin. Gold noticed. He could make out the outline of her bra through the thin gray material. cleared his throat. "There were some clothes back here dearie," he said, tearing his eyes away from her, and limped over to a trunk in the corner of the shop. There was a pile of clothing inside it. He opened it up and riffled through it for a moment, before pulling out a long blue sundress. He turned and held it up for her. "I know you don't fancy dresses, but at least it's dry," he told her and she smiled.
"It's fine. Thank you," she took the dress, and looked around.
"Where can I get out of these?" she asked, tugging the material away from her skin, and Gold's throat tightened. He nodded toward the back room, and she looked back that way.
"Will my office do?" he asked her thickly.
"Oh yeah, sure," she nodded looking back at him. He smiled.
"Help yourself dearie, and here," he said shrugging out of his suit jacket. "Put this on as well. It'll warm you up faster," he said, and she fought not to sigh. Such a gentleman! God what was wrong with her today! She may just swoon over him!
"Thanks," she said again, not knowing what else to say, taking the jacket from him. His fingers grazed hers gently, and she looked up at him, thinking he'd be smirking, but he wasn't. His eyes fairly smoldered as they met hers. She swallowed. He looked away.
"Shall I call the garage for you while you change?" he choked out, and Emma smiled. He was affected by her as well.
"I'd appreciate it, if you don't mind," she replied.
"Not at all dearie," he said, happy to have a distraction from the fact that she wore a black bra beneath her sodden t-shirt, and the wondering if the bottoms matched it.
Emma wandered back to the back of the shop. She had been there before, only this time it didn't reek of what ever that stuff was he had been using. She glanced back towards the door, and pulled her wet t-shirt over her head, then kicked off her boots, before she shimmied out of her jeans. She shivered, and rubbed her hands up and down her arms to stave off the goosebumps. How had it turned off so cold so quickly? It had been in the sixties only two hours ago, and now it felt below zero.
Her socks were sodden, as was her bra, and eww, even her underwear was all squishy, she thought. She had to take them off to let them dry. Perfect! So she'd be sitting there in a dress, and that was it. She'd die if he saw her underwear, because he knew she had no others. Man that would get his wheels turning, but good!
She slid the dress over her head and felt warmer immediately. It fell almost to her ankles, and the material was heavy enough that you couldn't see through it, thankfully. She didn't want to give Gold a show after all. Well, not here anyway, and not now. Maybe some time, if things went right. Or he could give her one.
She shook herself. The though of him stripping in front of her was enough to make her weak in the knees. Not to mention making her all the more aware that she had nothing on beneath her dress. She smoothed the dress in front and tried to put on an expression of no-I-was-not-just-fantasising-about-you-Gold, before stuffing the wet undergarments in her jacket pocket to hide them from him, and then balled it up around her shirt and jeans. She put his jacket around her shoulders, and gave in to the urge to see if his scent lingered on his jacket. Sniffing, she blanched. God! Spices, and wild places! Just like her dream! She was not gonna make it til her clothes were dry! Sighing she took a steadying breath, then carried her things back out there. He was waiting when she emerged, and his eyes roamed her briefly.
"Perfect fit I see," he said, nodding to the dress, and walking over to her. He saw she was wearing his suit jacket as well. He looked up at her face. She looked as though she were hiding something, but she smiled at him, and he let it go.
"Yeah, thanks for letting me wear it. How in the hell did it get so cold? It was supposed to be sunny today," she complained, coming closer to him. He shrugged, and looked out the window.
"I'm not sure dear, but, Mr. Tillman at the garage said that someone will be along in a little bit. This weather has apparently caught a lot of people unawares," he said,turning back to her. She looked a little ill at ease standing there in bare feet and a borrowed dress. He smiled, and pointed to an antique rocking chair. "Would you like to sit while you wait? We can lay those wet clothes out to dry a bit in the mean time," he suggested.
"I'll lay the clothes out, but I don't need to sit. Do you mind if I just browse? I've never really looked around your shop much. I'm usually only in here for business," she said, and his mouth quirked up.
"Not for pleasure," he finished. Her pulse quickened at that one word, and she once again was all too aware of her lack of underwear.
"Right," she stammered. He chuckled, and gestured around.
"Feel free to pleasure-seek to your heart's content dearie," he told her, and she inwardly cursed him. He'd said it twice! Was he trying to kill her?
"Thanks," she tried to say lightly, but it came out a little huskier than usual. She cleared her throat and made her way over to the shelves. Gold went back behind the counter, but continued to watch her as she ran her fingers along the spines of his books, picking up nick-knacks, and looking at them. She seemed fascinated with many of his treasures.
He'd often wondered how she would look dressed as the princess she was. For some reason he'd had difficulty picturing her in a gown until the other day when he'd seen her in that blue dress. Then it had been all too clear. She would look more like a goddess than she did in jeans and leather jackets. Now the dress she wore, although much simpler, was just as flattering. Blue truly did amazing things to her already radiant features. It turned her eyes the color of the Atlantican Sea, green, with just a fleck of blue.
He could see her, dressed as she was now, strolling through his gardens. Lying in the meadows looking up at the sky, her golden hair spread like a halo around her, around him, shining brighter than any gold he could spin. Her lips finding his in the dusk, as the sun sank below the horizon, and millions of stars came out glittering above them as he touched her, then claimed her as she cried his name into the night. He wet his lips and tried to push the vision from his sight before she caught him staring.
Far too many times he'd dreamed of her since her arrival in town, and he knew he shouldn't. Some were innocent enough, just him seeing images of her lovely face smiling, or laughing. Some were not so innocent, of her coming into his shop late at night and begging him to fuck her, and those were her exact words. Some were of him taking her hard in her bed over at Miss Blanchard's, moans of his true name falling from her lips, and him daring her to scream with her mother just a room away. Of her nails scraping up his back. Her fingers burying themselves in his hair as he pleasured her with his mouth. And then her doing the same to him. Gods she drove him insane!
"I'm not gonna steal anything you know," she said from across the room. He shook his head to drive the ghost of his fantasy from in front of his eyes. He was caught, oh well. No sense pretending.
"I didn't think you were dearie," he said, resting his chin on his the backs of his hands. She placed a hand on her hip, and looked at him.
"Well, I don't have a cane, so what are you looking at?" she asked him, and he smirked.
"You really have to ask Emma? Surely you can forgive me for allowing myself to become enthralled by the most bewitching woman I've seen for many a year," he said, his eyes roving her with mischief, wondering how she'd respond. She grinned.
"Nice save. Real nice," she told him wryly, though inside she was flattered. She had seen him staring at her out of the corner of her eye, and the intensity of his gaze had made her hotter than hell. He moistened his lips, and smiled.
"Does it surprise you that I find you attractive Emma?" he asked her bluntly. "It shouldn't," he said, and she didn't know what to say.
"Well, I, I mean I guess not. I mean, I don't really know much about what kind of, um, women you go for," she stammered.
"I think it should be obvious, Emma," he said nodding to her, a smile on his lips, and pausing on her name as he often did. He came out from behind the counter, and leaned on it. He looked like a big cat readying itself for the pounce. She put the book back on the shelf, and walked closer to him until they were about a foot from each other. She felt as though she were being pulled closer to him by invisible strings. She had to stop herself from rushing forward and planting one on him.
She felt like she should say something. He'd just said he found her attractive, like she didn't already know, but it was nice to hear him say it. Just out with it Emma, she told herself. Just say it!
"I, well I'm glad to know that, cuz I'm well, I'm kinda in the same boat here. Cuz you're so, well attractive is a good word, and I uh," she floundered, looking anywhere but at him, knowing his eyes were studying her, and she was almost trembling she was so nervous. It had never been this hard to tell a guy she liked him before! She glanced back at him. He was still smiling, and his eyes, God she could drown in them.
"What are you trying to say dearie?" he asked her softly. She swallowed, and worried her bottom lip with her teeth. He watched her do it, and was entranced with that movement, wanting desperately to nip at her lips with his own teeth.
"Well, um, you know that thing we do?" she asked him haltingly. Trying to get it out before she made a fool of herself. "That thing, like giving each other a hard time?" she asked.
"You mean us shamelessly flirting with one another?" he put in, and she grinned, and snickered.
"Um, yeah. That. Well, anyway, it's one of those things I look forward to. You know, it makes me smile. Brightens my day," trying to find the words, she rubbed the back of her neck, and cleared her throat. "It's hard to explain, but I'm kind of drawn to you. I'd call it a crush, but it's more than that," she admitted, wanting him to say something. He wet his lips, and smiled, boyishly shrugging.
"I've never made it a secret that I find you to be lovely, as well as incredibly courageous, and clever," he said reaching out, and curling his index finger beneath her fingers, and drawing her hand nearer to him, and the rest of her followed, moth to a flame. Inside Emma was screaming, as she stepped closer to him, staving off the butterflies fluttering in her stomach.
Gold watched her eyes. They were as anxious to see what would come of this exchange as his were. They stood watching each other for a moment. He was tired of fighting off what he felt for her. It wasn't going to do any good. He closed his fingers around hers, and she gripped his as well.
"You are in my thoughts more than you should be. I shouldn't think of you in the ways I do," he admitted. "But I can't help it, you captivate me Emma," he said, and she almost fainted. She opened her mouth to speak and had to focus on the words really hard.
"I um, I don't know how to put into words what goes though my head when I'm around you. It's like so easy to talk to you, so natural. It's hard to explain," she told him shaking her head. He nodded.
"It is, and it's hard to fathom what you see in me, with you knowing what you know about me. I'm no prince charming," he told her plainly. Emma shrugged.
"I don't want prince charming. He's married to my mom," she quipped with a little laugh, and he looked at her funny.
"What do you mean?" he asked her.
"I guess you know a little about Henry's thing? That we're all storybook people?" she wanted to know.
"I know some of it, why?" he asked, intrigued.
"Well, I'm supposed to be the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming," she explained.
"Ah yes. So that makes you a princess as well," he said bowing over her hand. She giggled a little, then rolled her eyes.
"Hardly. I'm no princess," she told him. He smiled.
"No, goddess sums you up best I think," he said, and she blushed, her mouth fell open in awe. A smile slowly crossing her face. "I don't suppose a mere mortal such as I would be fortunate enough, to have your company tomorrow evening?" he asked her.
"I think that could be arranged. Why?" she asked him, stunned. He grinned.
" I planned to go for a walk tomorrow. I'd like it very much if you would join me," he requested. She smiled. He was really asking her out!
"Sure, I'd love to. But if I go are you gonna wear that suit?" she asked. He let go of her hand and lay a hand on his chest in mock-offense.
"You don't like this?" he asked, looking down at his clothes and then back up at her. She smiled.
"I like it fine, but if we're just talking a walk I thought you might want to try something a little more casual, like, oh I don't know, jeans maybe?" she hinted.
"Ah I see. You just want to see me in jeans," he accused. She shrugged. He wasn't wrong.
"Hell, forget the jeans. How about leather?" she teased, thinking of her dream-friend and his leather pants. She almost choked on her tongue at his response.
"Now that, I can do," he said wickedly gunning his thumb and forefinger at her, and smirking evilly.
"What? You, you own leather pants? I was kidding," she gasped. Thoughts of Gold in leather made her almost hyperventilate. He chuckled.
"So was I," he admitted. And she swatted at him. "Like that image did you?" he asked. She snickered.
"Oh shut up!" she snapped playfully. He chuckled.
"Wardrobe choices aside, you did agree to join me?" he asked, taking her hand again, and she nodded.
"Yeah, sure. It'd be nice to get out, clear my head. Might stop these dreams if I de-stress a little," she told him, and he ran his thumb over the back of her hand.
"You're still having them then?" he asked her. She sighed in mild frustration. Mild because he was still holding her hand.
"Yeah, I saw Henry today. He told me what he thought about them, but I don't know. I think I'm going crazy," he smiled, and shook his head.
"I doubt it dearie. What did Henry think they meant?" he asked her. She shrugged.
"Another royally effed up theory. He thinks I have the ability to see the stories in his book as they happened. Well, that was one of them anyway," she told him. He was intrigued, wondering what else the boy had come up with. Henry was a very bright lad.
"What else did he have to say about it?" he asked her. Just then the door opened and in the doorway was Mr. Tillman. Emma jumped, and turned to face him
"Hey sheriff. Sorry it took so long. Billy was nowhere to be seen, so I came myself," he said, not paying any attention to her close proximity to Mister Gold. What's the problem?" he asked her.
"The battery, I think. Or hope rather. It could be the alternator," she said with grimace. "The keys are the ignition." she said, and he nodded.
"I'll check it out for you," he replied, turning to go to work on her car.
"Is something wrong dearie?" Gold asked her, wondering why she pulled away from him. She blushed.
"No, it's nothing. Just, well, you know how fast good news travels in a town this size," she said waveringly.
"You're worried what people will say if they see us together," he said, sounding a little hurt. Her eyes flared wide and she grasped at his hand.
"No! I don't care what they say. Some of them have already formed an opinion about our relationship, so, it doesn't matter to me," he studied her face for a moment.
"Who has already formed an opinion about us?" he asked her darkly. She swallowed hard.
"It's nothing, just something Moe French said the other day," she admitted. He set his lips in a hard line.
"And, what did he say Emma?" he asked her.
"Basically that I got my job as sheriff by giving you a 'job' of a different kind," she sneered. Fury flashed across his face and he clenched his fists.
"Well, someone has a death wish," he said, his voice taking on a light, but deadly tone. Emma blinked, and shook her head.
"Don't you do anything, he's not worth it," she said giving his hand little squeeze. He looked up at her and smiled.
"Your honor is worth it. How dare he say something like that to you? He can say, or do anything he likes to me, but you have done nothing to the man," he fumed. Emma shrugged.
"I guess I offended him in a past life," she joked. He looked up at her, and sighed.
"If going out with me is going to create a problem for you," he began, but Emma cut him off.
"I really like you Gold, and I want to go out with you. I have been thinking about it for a while, and I'm not about to let some jackass mess it up," she stepped a little closer to him so they were almost nose to nose. "This is gonna happen," she told him firmly. He blinked in surprise. She wanted to go out with him! A pleased smirk danced across his face.
"Mmm, as you command princess," he said enticingly. Emma squirmed a little at him calling her princess like that, but recover and returned his smirk.
"Well, I've got a special place in my dungeon for you pal," she told him. He chuckled.
"Chain me to the wall my lady," he replied, offering his free wrist to her. She snickered.
"Oh I forgot, you like being cuffed don't you?" she teased, circling her fingers around his wrists.
"Only by you sheriff, he quipped, and she smiled, and tugged him closer to her, so that their bodies brushed against one another. This time when the door opened wild horses couldn't make her move.
"Hey, got it started sheriff. It was the battery after all," Mr. Tillman called walking into the shop. He stopped dead, then cleared his throat as Emma and Gold broke their heated haze to glance his way.
"Thanks a lot Mr. Tillman," she said brightly, and he looked away, and backed up.
"I'll just bill you. You look busy," he said quickly and exited the shop. Emma looked back at Gold, and he smiled.
"Well, I wonder what his problem was?" he mused. Emma shrugged.
"No idea. You must have frightened him," she accused. He grinned, and cocked his head to one side.
"Me? Why? I'm harmless as a little lamb ambling on the hillside," he said.
"Right, a little lamb. More like a wolf in sheep's clothing," she said sarcastically. "You need your own warning label. It should read, 'approach with caution'," she said.
"And yours should read 'slippery when wet' dearie," he replied, nodding to her still wet hair.
"Only when you're around," she said before she thought, then bit her tongue, but it was too late. It had been said. He laughed darkly.
"Dearie, if we don't put some space between us, bad things are going to happen," he warned her.
"How bad?" she hedged, and he took a cleansing breath, then smirked wickedly.
"Very bad," he replied. She grinned.
"Bad can be good," she quipped, and he flicked his eyebrows upward suggestively, that damn smirk never leaving his face.
"Bad can be very good, but I don't think Mr. Tillman would fancy seeing us being 'bad' should he decide to come back in here for some reason," he pulled from her grasp, and his hands fell against her sides, and pulled her flush against him, showing her what she did to him. His suit jacket slipped from her shoulders, and pooled around her feet. She gasped, and looked down then back up.
"I don't guess you have your gun today?" she asked him breathlessly. He leaned forward.
"All me, my dear," he said low, his breath whispering against her skin. She shivered, and not from cold, and wondered briefly how sluttish it would be to screw a guy before the first date. She loved talking to him, teasing him, and well just looking at him, but right now every hormone in her body was screaming "Screw first date, flip the shop sign to closed and fuck him senseless!"
"My mistake. I've seen your gun. It's not that big," she whispered back, pressing her hips against his. He groaned and she smirked.
"You're killing me Emma," he grunted. Her hands slid up the front of his chest.
"If I wanted to kill you I'd use my hands Gold," she replied, and moved his head back only slightly to look in her eyes once more.
"I'd die happily under your hands Emma," he said, then moistened his very dry mouth, gazing longingly at her lips. Emma swallowed hard, breathed in, and then released it.
"Ah screw it!" she huffed and her hands went from his chest into his hair and she tugged him closer, drawing his mouth to hers. God she had been needing this! His lips felt just like they had in her dreams.
Soft, and perfectly formed to fit hers.
Gold's eyes flared with surprise before drifting closed, contentedly. He could honestly say, no woman had ever fired his blood like Emma Swan. He couldn't believe she was kissing him! They had kissed so many times in his dreams, but this was so much better. Sweeter, and much hotter.
The kiss deepened, and they both had the same idea. Their tongues met in a fierce tango, darting back and forth, teasing and tasting. Emma pushed slightly, pinning him between her and the counter, and when there was no more give their hips ground against one another hard, drawing an animalistic growl from them both.
Gold's hands roamed up her back, and discovered that the lump where her bra should be was absent. Curious his other hand skimmed down almost to her hip, and found the waistband of her underwear was also absent. He broke the kiss, panting and smirking, leaning forward to press a kiss to her neck just below her ear.
"Very naughty of you Emma, no undergarments," he murmured in her ear, nipping at it, making her whimper.
"Not my fault, they got wet," she sighed, breathlessly. He chuckled, and brushed his lips against the side of her neck. Emma's mind flashed to her dream. God, how did he know what that did to her? And if he'd only move lower and, oh! There it was! His lips closed around that one sensitive spot at the base of her neck, worrying it with his teeth, caressing it with his tongue.
"Gold!" she cried, and he teased his way back up to find her ear.
"Emma," he breathed, and that was that. She was psychic, she'd dreamed it would happen, and it did. And her reaction was the same. She arched against him, striving for what she'd wanted ever since she'd met the man.
And of course her cell phone chose that moment to ring. They both stopped what they were doing, and glanced over to where it lay on the counter. She caught her breath, and growled. She heard Gold mutter something like "bloody contraption" and sighed. She really hated technology sometimes.
"Damn phone," she muttered, and reluctantly stepped from his embrace to answer it. "Sheriff Swan," she said into the receiver.
"Emma, you'd better get over here at the impound. French has gone off his head," Jefferson informed her. "He punched the guy behind the counter, and then came at me when I tried to break it up," he said shortly. Emma pushed the hair from her face and sighed.
"Where is he now?" she asked. Jefferson laughed.
"He's a little tied up at the moment, but you'd better come get him. Wally wants to press charges," he told her.
"I gotta run home and change. Then I'll be right down. No rest for the wicked eh?" she joked humorlessly. He chuckled.
"None at all. Hurry though, I don't want to have to hurt him," he said pausing a moment before saying. "Ah hell, take your time. Just tell anyone who asks, he tripped," he said, and she giggled.
"Kick him once for me. I'll hurry though," she said, and then hung up, before turning back to Gold, almost beaming.
"I get to arrest French. He punched a guy, and he's pressing charges, she said gleefully. He smirked.
"Well if we must be interrupted, at least it's for a good cause," he quipped, glad that French was getting payback, and she nodded.
"We'll finish this later," she said stepping back in front of him.
"Finish?" he asked, and she quirked an eyebrow.
"Finish." she repeated, and leaned forward to plant one more light kiss on his lips. As she pulled away he took her hand and brought it to his lips.
"So, until tomorrow Miss Swan?" he said politely.
"Meet me in front of my building?" she asked.
"Seven-o-clock?" he replied. She nodded.
"I'll be there with bells on," she said, and went over to gather up her still damp clothing, and slip on her still squishy boots. Eww! Not good! She'd definitely need to change first! "I'll uh, wash this and get it back to you," she said motioning to the dress. He smiled.
"Oh no dearie. Keep it. And when you were it, remember what you were doing the first time you wore it," he said seductively.
"How could I forget?" she sighed. "I'll see you tomorrow then," she told him, turning to go.
"Tomorrow, Emma," he breathed her name just as he had in her ear a few moments ago, and she shivered again before leaving his shop. Damn his sexy accent!
A/N: Oh my God! They just kept talking and I just kept writing and now, Whew! Longest chapter yet! The car breaking down thing was inspired by Regina's little stunt to get David. Speaking of David, did ya like the fuzzy pink bathrobe? I could see him rocking that! I tried to keep everyone in character as much as possible. Please review, give me some feedback. Questions? Comments? I'll take 'em all.
