Once...And Forever Ch 7 Getcha Some
A/N: Hi! Okay my family has been conspiring to keep me from writing, I'm sure of it! But I finally got it done! So here is my next chapter, oh and thanks to my kind reviewers. Much love! :) And the readers as well. Enjoy!
Emma left Gold's in a daze. The drive back to Mary-Margaret's place was full of random thoughts. Gold and his kisses, Henry and his theories, August and his ailment. And it all seemed to run together. She drifted into the apartment, and Mary-Margaret watched her walk right past her, and head for the ladder up to her room. She wiped off her hands and followed her.
"Emma, are you alright? Why are you wet?" she asked her. Emma turned around, and looked at her friend.
"Oh, my car wouldn't start and I got caught in the rain. It's okay now though. I have to hurry. I get to arrest Mr French," she said almost gleefully. Mary-Margaret climbed up the ladder behind her, and watched her for a moment.
"Emma, did something else happen?" she asked. Emma looked over at her and smiled.
"What do you mean?" she asked, and Mary-Margaret smirked.
"I mean, what is that?" she wanted to know, pointing to the side of Emma's neck. Emma's eyes went wide, and her hand came up to touch the base of her neck, just as she'd done that night she'd had the dream, then rushed over to her broken mirror looking into it as best she could.
"I'm going to kill him!" she gasped, as she saw the deep pinkish mark Gold had left there. She felt a tiny blush of pleasure creep into her cheeks. In a way, he'd marked her as his. Mary-Margaret giggled and covered her mouth.
"So, sometime between your car breaking down, and you coming home, you, uh ran into Gold?" Mary-Margaret supplied, hinting for Emma to take it from there.
"Yeah, ran into, that's a good way to put it," she said crossing to her closet and pulling out a turtle neck, not wanting to explain to Jefferson how she got a hickey.
"And, how did it go?" she asked her. Emma rolled her eyes and pointed to her neck.
"I got a hickey Mare, how do you think it went?" she said to her friend. Mary-Margaret looked impressed.
"So, what happened?" Mary-Margaret asked, turning her back so Emma could dress. Emma sighed and told her about Gold saving her from the rain, and giving her the dress, and their extremely heated encounter.
"Oh hoo, gotcha some," Mary-Margaret quipped. Emma rolled her eyes, smiling.
"Just a little bit," she snickered, hoping she'd get more soon. "Anyway, I have to go pick up French. I'll see you in a while," she said grabbing her bag and heading for the impound.
Jefferson hadn't been kidding when he'd said he was tied up. French had his hands bound with a bungee cord. He was yelling and cursing. Jefferson leaned lazily on the patrol car, and was looking pleased with himself. Emma winced as she walked up to him.
"So, tied up eh?" she said nudging him in the ribs. He grinned.
"Hey, he was being crazy, and I know what crazy looks like," he said in an aside to her. "I had to," he shrugged.
"I need my van! I don't have the money to get it out, and if I don't have it then I can't make any money! This is ludicrous!" French bellowed. Emma glared his way.
"You have the right to remain silent. Please exercise that right!" she demanded, and untied the cords so she could cuff him in front and put him in the car. Wally, the desk clerk had an ice pack on his face, and he looked scared.
"So, can you tell me what happened here?" Emma asked him. He looked fearfully towards the car.
"He came in here today, wild eyed, and ranting. I told him was gonna cost three hundred and fifty dollars, and he starts yelling and saying, that it was a mistake and if I didn't go get it right now he was gonna beat the life outta me. Well, I told him that I couldn't do that, I'm just the clerk, and he grabbed me by the collar and pulled me across the counter and starts punching me. I covered up as best I could, then he goes out to the lot and starts bellowing at them to get his van. So I called for help," he said, his voice quavering.
"And, Wally is a minor," said a voice form behind Emma. "He's only seventeen," Emma turned to see Ms. Coachman standing there. She smiled briefly at Emma, then looked over at Wally.
"Are you alright dearie?" she asked him gently. He nodded. "Well, I hope Mr. French has a very good attorney, because this is beyond wrong," she said firmly. "Beating a child," she shook her head. "I don't know what else I expected after," she stopped, and took a breath, exhaling harshly. Emma wanted her to continue.
"After what? Has he done this before?" she asked her. Ms. Coachman, sighed.
"He disowned two of his children, because of their choices in the love department. As if love gives us a choice," she said knowingly. Emma looked confused.
"Does he have a history of violence?" Emma asked. She made a non-committal gesture.
"I'd call it cruelty really. All the man cares about is himself, and bugger the rest," she said snappishly. "I don't like the man one bit, and now this," she waved a hand at Wally. "This is it. I will be pressing charges on behalf of Wally, since his his mother is too busy," she mimed drinking to Emma, and she nodded understandably.
"Well, follow me to the station, and we'll get it took care if," she said to her. The older woman nodded, and took Wally by the arm.
"Come on now dearie, we'll sort you out," she said kindly to the boy. He went with her to her car.
Emma headed back over to the car. Jefferson was leaning on it grinning. She patted him on the arm.
"Good job deputy," she told him, and he preened a little.
"Why, thank you sheriff," he said with a little bow. "I'll get him back to the station, and lock him up for you, unless you want a free swing?" he joked. She smirked.
"Tempting, but no. Go on and put him in the lock up, I'll handle the rest," she said. Jefferson clicked his heels and saluted.
"As you command chief," he teased.
"Hardy har har," she said dryly. "You are one funny kitty cat," she said shaking her head, and he laughed.
"I'm a kitty cat?" he asked. She giggled a little.
"Sorry, there was a Shrek marathon on the other night," she said, and he laughed.
"You were watching Shrek?" he asked quirking an eyebrow at her. She shrugged.
"There was nothing else on!" she defended. "And hey that movie is hilarious," she said, and he shook his head.
"Whatever you say. I say it's misleading. Ogres are not nice or funny," he said, and Emma looked at him weird.
"And you know this from experience?" she asked him, and he looked at her blankly.
"I plead insanity sheriff," he said holding up his hands, and she rolled her eyes.
"You aren't that crazy Jeff," she told him, crossing her arms.
"And why exactly is a raven like a writing desk?" he asked, tapping his chin, and she chuckled.
"I'll get back to you on that one," she replied, slugging him playfully on the arm. "Meet ya there," she said, and went to get in her car.
So she headed down to the station and handled the paperwork, and everything needed to press charges on French. The security tapes showed that all Wally had said was correct, so that was that. There would be a trial.
Wally got to leave with his mother when she came to pick him up. Ms. Coachman glared at her darkly as she took her son. Emma noticed.
"Not too keen on her I take it?" Emma asked.
"She refuses help with her drinking. I'm only one person, and I can't put a gun to her head, although the thought has crossed my mind on occasion," she quipped. Emma chuckled. She really liked this woman!
"So how do you know Gold? I'm just curious, because you two seemed to have a history," she hinted, hoping to find out more about the guy she'd be spending the following evening with. Wanda's eyes twinkled.
"Think he's a former lover do you?" she joked, and Emma blushed.
"No, not that!" she laughed nervously. The older woman patted her hand.
"He's my favorite nephew. I know you aren't supposed to have a favorite, but well there you are," she informed her, and Emma gasped. She'd had no idea he had any family here, but then he was a private man. She searched the other woman's face for traces of Gold's features. It was the eyes she saw him in the most, not so much the color as the mischievous twinkle.
"He doesn't take after me much," she explained, watching Emma watch her. "He looks more like his father actually," she told her,"And I probably shouldn't dish on our family too much dearie. You should ask him about it though," she stood up and reached out her hand to Emma. Emma nodded, and shook her hand, wondering if the word 'dearie' was a family endearment.
"I'll do that. We're, um kind of going out tomorrow evening," she said withdrawing her hand. Wanda's eyes lit up.
"Are you really? Oh, I'm so pleased!" she cried, clapping her hands together with delight. Emma looked a little surprised at her reaction. "I hope you two have a lovely time!" she said happily.
"Yeah, I'm sure we will. We, um, we get along really well," she said in an afterthought. Now that she knew Ms. Coachman was a relative of his, she was a tiny bit uneasy, but the woman seemed to like her, so maybe there was nothing to worry about.
"I'll bet you do dearie. He's quite taken with you, you know," she said covertly to her, and Emma blushed a little.
"Yeah he, uh, told me," she stammered.
"I hope you make each other very happy dear one," Wanda said, patting Emma on the arm. Emma shrugged.
"Well, it's only our first date. We'll see how things go," she said, and Wanda smiled.
"Yes, we will see," Wanda looped her purse strap over her shoulder, and nodded to Emma. "I have to be going my dear, I'll be seeing you," she told her, and turned to go. Emma sighed, and put the report into a file.
It had been a very eventful day off, and she was exhausted. She'd never be able to sleep, even if she didn't dream, but the chances of that happening were very slim.
Mary-Margaret was waiting for her when she got home, eager to hear more about her encounter with Gold. Emma outlined it for her without too many details. She didn't want to scar her roommate for life, or anything.
"So you're going out with him tomorrow?" Mary-Margaret said excitedly. Emma nodded.
"Just for a walk. I'm kind of glad we're doing something where we'll be able to talk," Emma said, hugging a sofa pillow to her chest. In truth she was nervous as hell. She'd been on tons of dates, but most of the guys she'd never seen again because they were determined to convince her they were the greatest thing on the planet, and they weren't even the greatest thing in the room.
Gold was different than any guy she'd ever known. He encouraged her, he believed in her, and he made her feel things she'd never known she could feel. No one had ever made her weak in the knees. Hell, she'd never even known that she could be weak in the knees, and kissing him was like heaven. She felt a little like a sap for thinking that, but it was true. Fireworks had burst behind her eyelids, her heart had felt like it was about to take flight it was beating so hard, and the air around them crackled with electricity. No, it was more like heat lighting, waves of passion-induced haze surging from them and charging the space around them, making it flash and spin, and sparkle like a starry night. Magical.
"Emma!" Mary-Margaret said loudly, trying to bring Emma back to earth..
"Huh?" Emma said, jumping slightly, and turning to face her friend. Her eyes all dreamy and soft. Mary-Margaret smiled.
"Awww, Emma. You were still thinking about him weren't you?" she squealed. Emma blushed.
"So what if I was?" she said defensively, and then sighed. "Mare, I don't know what's the matter with me. I just can't,"
"Get him out of your head?" Mary-Margaret offered. Emma looked at Mary-Margaret hopelessly.
"Yeah, I wish I understood it. Ever since I got here it's been one thing or another to do with him. I can't even look at the man without feeling all, well, I don't think warm and fuzzy is the right way to describe it, but you know what I mean," she said.
"I know exactly what you mean. I think someone has been bitten by the love bug," she sang at her, a knowing look in her eye.
"Woah, love? No. We like each other, and want each other, but love is a very strong word for what we have. We haven't even been on a date yet," she reasoned, and Mary-Margaret grinned.
"Well, tomorrow night when you get home and that excuse it gone, then we'll see how you feel," she told her. "I'm going to have a bath, and turn in," she informed her. "Nighty night," she waved, and left Emma to her thoughts.
She'd never even considered the possibility that true love was real, or all that love at first sight nonsense she'd read about from those paperback novels that always seemed to sport a tall broad-shouldered man, and an under-dressed woman gazing hungrily at each other. Grown up versions of the fairy tales she'd quit reading or believing in years ago. Always speaking of fate, and love written in the stars. 'What a load of crap!' he overly cynical brain had always shouted. Doesn't exist, not real, just like the Easter bunny and the tooth fairy. A myth. A pretty lie, meant to sell books, flowers and greeting cards.
So why then was she sitting here pondering the existence of more than just very lustful 'like' between her and Gold. The way he plagued her thoughts, and seemed to feel her presence, just as she could his, the ache just one touch from him created, the missing him, yes she missed him right now! She wondered if he thought of her, and if he thought about these things as much as she did, or at all. He didn't come across as a very fanciful man, but then she didn't come across as a woman who still slept with a baby blanket when it stormed, and made lonely wishes on star-shaped candles, but well there you are.
Sighing she lay back against the plush arm of the couch, and flung and arm across her eyes. Her head hurt from the lack of sleep, she closed her eyes and saw his face, his smile. It wouldn't be hard to love him, despite what he'd said about it being difficult. It would be easy as falling asleep...
The next morning Emma went dragging down to the station to get to work. She sat at her desk, pouring over paperwork. She did entirely too much of this. Maybe if the mayor would use city funds for, oh I don't know, computerizing the files and things. Sheesh, what was it here the nineteen fifties?
She let her pen drop from between her fingers and hit the desk with a soft clatter, rubbing her hands over her face tiredly. She hadn't slept more than eight hours in the past three days all put together. The dreams were getting worse. She didn't know what to do next.
"Sheriff Swan," she heard the mayor call from the door. Sighing she looked up at her and tried to managed a pleasant expression, but she had a feeling, she failed.
"Yeah, what can I do for you?" she asked. Regina folded her arms and locked eyes with her.
"I want to know, what is going on with the Versely case," she demanded. Emma smirked and looked away. Just like her to stick her damn nose in where it didn't belong.
"I'm not at liberty to discuss it. You aren't family, so the particulars of this case are not your concern. If you want to know anything you might speak to Mr. Versely's attorney," she hedged. Regina set her lips in a hard line.
"And who would that be exactly?" she snapped, not used to her demands not being met.
"Well, it's uh. It's Mister Gold, actually," she told her with pleasure, and want to giggle at the look that crossed her face.
"Gold?" Regina spat, and Emma nodded.
"Yeah Gold, you know the man with the pawn shop and the cane?" she explained as if she had no idea who she was referring to.
"Don't be smart with me Miss Swan! Sue Morgan was an acquaintance of mine and I want her killer brought to justice!" she said her voice a deadly calm.
"Don't worry, it's being taken care of. Now I have a lot of work to do, so could you please leave?" she requested, picking up her pen and shifting the papers around on her desk. The mayor's eyes flared and she walked closer to the desk.
"What did you say to me?" she sniffed. Emma looked up at her and took a breath.
"I said could you please leave, I have work to do," she repeated slower, so the woman understood her.
"He told you to say that didn't he?" she accused, her dark eyes snapping with rage.
"Uh, who? And say what?" Emma asked her.
"Gold! He told you to say please to me, didn't he?" she asked wildly.
"Um, no," Emma said carefully. "He wasn't around when I learned my manners," she watch Regina as she came unglued.
"You're lying! Don't you ever say that to me again!" she exclaimed.
"Fine! You'd rather I be rude? Get the hell outta my office then!" Emma snapped. "I hope you have at least had the sense to teach Henry good manners!" she retorted. The other woman's eye blazed.
"What I teach Henry is no concern of yours! Just you do your damn job, and don't worry about my son!" she hissed, and turned on her heel to leave, her pumps clacking on the floor as she walked out.
Emma watched her go for a second, and then shook her head. She was nuttier than a fruitcake! Why the hell would Gold tell her to say please to the mayor? The only please she wanted to say where he was involved would be followed by a 'don't stop' She sighed again, and tried to work on the paperwork some more, but the more she read the more tired her eyes got, until soon, she lost her fight with the sandman.
She was walking with purpose, light of both step and heart. Carrying a basket over her arm she stopped in front of the tall heavy doors.
"I'm back," she said to them and they swung open of their own accord, as if welcoming her. Smiling she pushed back her hood and shook off the road dust. She was home, and it felt good to be there.
"Back already?" a voice called from across the vast hall. "Good! Good thing, I'm nearly out of straw," he said. He was sitting at an old fashioned spinning wheel. Really it looked at though he was hiding behind it, it was so large. He looked up hopefully, as she crossed the room, and then turned impassively back to his work, looking anywhere but at her. She smiled, and placed the basket on the table, before crossing the room to stand in front of him.
"Oh, come on. You're happy I'm back," she said peering through the spokes of the wheel, making him look at her. He did, but looked a little ill at ease, and forced a grin.
"I'm not unhappy," he replied, but he was not convincing her anymore than he was convincing himself. He had missed her, every bit as much as she missed him when he was away. She smiled shyly, and with secret glee at this knowledge, and ambled around the other side of the wheel, and leaned over his shoulder, almost hugging him. She could feel him tensing up beneath her touch as she placed her hands on his shoulders angling her head around to look at him. His breath caught at the sight of her so close to him. She could tell he wanted to get up and run away. She smiled at his nervousness, but then, she was nervous too. Her new found feelings had shaken her, but her resolve was strong.
"You promised me a story," she informed him, before letting him go. He relaxed a bit, and tried to look as though he couldn't remember promising such a thing.
"Did I?" he asked absently.
"Mmmhmm," she said reaching to take the threads he was spinning from his hand and laying it aside for the time being. He watched her, unsure of what she would do. She sat down opposite of him, and settled herself, before leaning forward, resting her hand on his leather-clad thigh. He jumped a little at her audacious touch, but recovered and tried to maintain some semblance of control.
"Tell me about your son," she asked sweetly leaning forward and waiting for him to speak. He obviously hadn't expected to have to share this tale and wasn't prepared to answer her question fully.
"I uh, I lost him," he said wistfully. "Nothing more to tell really," he made a small smile, his eyes looking so sad, and full of regret at those words. She wanted to hug him, hold him, make the hurt in his eyes ease. Show him some kindness. She didn't press him to tell her more, as she suspected it hurt to much, and the last thing she wanted to do was hurt this man. This man that she had such a deep love for. Yes it was there. For no matter what he said, he was just a very extraordinary man, and she loved him.
"So, since then you've loved no one? And no one has loved you," she asked him carefully. He made her no answer, and she wasn't expecting him to invade her personal space the way she had his, but he leaned closer to her, searching her face with a mixture of longing, concern, and fear.
"Why did you come back?" he asked her quietly, in disbelief that she sat there in front of him, real, and alive, but there she sat, all dreamy eyes and dewy lips. He'd really believed she wouldn't come back. He looked frightened, and a little bit intrigued, as he stared deeply into her eyes, waiting to hear her response.
"I wasn't going to," she admitted, and then a tiny smile lit her face at the thought of what she would do. "But then, something changed my mind," she said leaning closer to him. He was almost frozen, not sure if this was what he wanted, but he met her, a little less than halfway. It wasn't a passionate kiss, but it was everything you'd expect a first kiss to be. Loving, and gentle, no demands or expectations. Her heart swelled, racing, soaring, flipping over inside her chest. It was love, so true, so simple, and so complex, it made her feel faint, and she was so very glad she was sitting down, because if they had been standing her knees would have buckled beneath her.
He didn't dare move closer to her but his hands had found their way to her waist holding her gently, and hers had done the same to his. Magic hummed in the air, as their lips began to part. Already she was aching to have him kiss her once more...
"Emma," a voice called. "Emma? Sheriff? Emma, are you alright?" the voice demanded. The warm fuzziness of her dream was shimmering, and then it was gone.
Her eyes popped open. Gold's face was inches from her own, his eyes searching her face for signs of life. She drew back and gasped, her hand going for her weapon. She swallowed, her breaths quick. He moved back a little bit so she didn't feel threatened, for at the moment she looked like a caged lioness.
Emma breathed deeply and relaxed somewhat, relieved that it was only him. Her eyes traveled Gold's face. She wasn't sure what unnerved her more, the fact that he'd been so close to her, or the fact the he seemed oddly familiar at this angle. She looked away quickly. After dreaming about what she had the last thing she needed was him that close to her. He sighed in relief.
"I'm sorry I startled you. You looked as if you might have passed out, or something," he said concern in his voice. She wet her dry lips and shook her head. That kiss in the dream had almost made her pass out.
"I get that a lot," she groused. "No, I was just asleep, damn it! I didn't mean to fall asleep. This is getting ridiculous," she sighed pushing her hair out of her face. "So what can I do for you?" he held out some papers. She looked at them scornfully. "More paperwork, joy of joy," he smirked.
"The boys gave a deposition. These are only copies. No action needed on your part," he told her. She took them and lay them in front of her.
"I'm sorry. Lack of sleep has made me a little edgy," she said stifling a yawn. He tutted at her, and rested on the corner of her desk
"No matter my dear. So, you're still not sleeping?" he asked. She shook her head.
"I've tried everything. Tea, milk, alcohol, warm bath, adding lavender to said warm bath, meditating, counting sheep, nothing works. I can't figure these dreams out. Archie said they were stress-induced, Mary-Margaret thinks otherwise. Henry posed even crazier theories, I read the book you lent me cover to cover," she sighed. "I don't know," she said looking down.
He smiled at her. Her warm bath comment had made him warm. He'd thought of nothing since she'd gone the day before but the kisses they'd shared. He wanted to kiss right there and then, but thought better of it. They had a date that night, and perhaps then...
"By the way, what does Regina have against good manners?" she asked him.
"What do you mean?" he wanted to know.
"I mean, I said the word please to her, an she acted like she wanted to claw my eyes out. And she seemed to think you told me to say it to her," she said, and he grinned.
"That is an old quarrel we have. Don't fash yourself over it dearie," he said sitting on the corner of her desk looking down at her. She leaned back to look up at him.
"She was asking about Versely. I didn't tell her anything, but she may want to speak to you about it," she warned him.
"I expect you're right, but it'll do her no good to ask. Confidentially for my clients is key," he told her with a smirk.
"Good," she said with a smile. "Oh, and I have a bone to pick with you mister," she said sternly.
"What ever did I do?" he asked, and she pulled her collar down to show him the mark he'd left on her neck. He smirked. "Ah," he realized, and shrugged. "You started it you know, you kissed me first," he said, and she grinned.
"And I'd do it again, but I owe you for this," she told him, and he turned his head to the side.
"If you keep owing me my dear you'll never pay off your tab," he quipped, and she lay her hand on top of his where it rested on the end of his cane.
"I'm sure I could think of a way to repay it," she teased, and he smiled, trailing the fingertips of his free hand through a lock of her hair.
"I'm sure I'd like that, Emma," he replied, and she swallowed hard, her heart pounding from just looking at him, and all he'd touched was her hair.
"Hey boss," Jefferson called, walking in waving an envelope. "I've got something for you. Doc called, and got no answer here, so he called me. The results are in," he said dropping the manilla envelope on the desk with a flourish, they'd moved apart a bit at hearing him enter the room, he looked over at Gold and nodded to him. "Hey Mr Gold," he said.
"Good day Jefferson," he replied politely. Emma looked at the envelope and back up at Jefferson.
"There's no way it's done already! Results take days, weeks even," she said tearing open the envelope, and looking at the papers. There was a not from Doc inside.
"Emma
I ran the results three times. It's a match. Not only that it's a 99.999 percent match. No match is that perfect, but if you're sure that the blood came from two different men then they are almost the same in every way. Twins have more dissimilar DNA than they do. It's a match. Tell Marco congratulations.
Sincerely,
Doc Underwood
Emma looked at the results, and gave a helpless little whimper, then lay them down on the desk. Gold and Jefferson both looked concerned. She looked up at them, and sighed.
"How is this possible?" she asked Jefferson. He shrugged.
"I do not believe in fairies," he replied like he was reading from a cue card. Emma huffed, and stood up, walking to the window and looking out. Gold laughed.
I don't suppose there's any chance you just killed Mother Superior?" he mused. Jefferson looked at him blankly, and then laughed.
"If only," he replied.
"Well, there's always a flyswatter I suppose," Gold quipped. Emma looked over at them and smirked.
"Is there a reason the two of you are plotting to kill a nun?"Emma asked them. "With a flyswatter?"
"Other than the fact that she's a liar, and likes to screw up people's lives you mean?" Jefferson commented. And Gold nodded in agreement.
"Well I don't really know the woman, but if you say so," she replied with a shrug. Gold sighed and looked at his watch.
"Trust us, we know her very well," he said nodding to Jefferson. "But, you look busy, and I must go. I'll leave you to it," he said, glancing Emma's way. "See you at seven-o-clock Miss Swan," he told her with a smile and rose to leave. Emma watched him walk out and had to shake herself when Jefferson spoke to her.
"Seven-o-clock huh? So, you have a date with Gold?" he asked her, and she nodded.
"Oh hoo! Emmy's got a boyfriend!" he sang at her.
"Cut it out hat boy!" she demanded.
"Can't, it'll grow right back," he teased. "Emma and Gold sitting in a tree," he joked. She glared at him, and he grinned. And looked down. "Shutting up boss," he said meekly.
"You better! Now help me understand this! How is it possible Jeff?" he shrugged.
"Do you want the truth, or the lie?" he asked. She sighed.
"Let me guess, magic?" she asked him wearily, and he pointed to his nose.
"Bingo," he said, and she rolled her eyes.
"Come on Jeff, get real," she told him, and he shrugged.
"I am real. It's August who's having trouble staying a real boy," he teased and Emma put her head down on the desk.
"I'm going out of my mind!" she groaned wearily.
"No you're not. You're perfectly sane," he told her. "You're just a skeptic who's being thrown headlong into belief. That's bound to give you a bit of a head rush," he said, and she made a frustrated noise, and looked up at him,
"Jeff do you realize what a leap that is? Fuck head rush, this is full on vertigo!" she cried. "No, there has to be another explanation," she said shaking her head.
"That's the problem with this world!" he said tensely. "Not everything has a scientific or logical explanation. Some things are nonsensical, and some things have to be believed, not seen," he raked his hand through his hair. "I don't want you mad at me Emma. I'll shut up now," he sighed, and picked up the car keys. "I'll take patrol, and if you want to knock off a little early so you can get ready for your date, I'll keep an eye on things, he told her.
"Thanks Jeff," she told him, and he grinned.
"No problem. I hope you have fun. Don't do anything I wouldn't do," he teased as he walked away, then stopped, and looked back. "Strike that last comment, I'm one twisted motherfucker," she laughed.
"Jeff!" she cried, and covered her mouth in shock.
"What? My wife was a mother, and Grace is the proof that I, well you get it," he grinned, and Emma shooed him out the door.
"T.M.I. my friend!" she called after him, and he laughed as he exited the room.
She did as Jefferson had suggested and left a little early so she could get ready. They were just going for a walk, and she'd railed on him for wearing a suit so she wasn't going to dress up, but she didn't want to look too casual either. She stood in front of her closet in her underwear and socks for forty-five minutes until she came up with what she wanted. Her pale yellow sweater looked nice, and it was warm enough should it turn off cold later. Her favorite jeans that were comfy, and made her ass look good, and her knee high boots, completed the outfit. She fluffed her hair, grabbed her purse and went down to the living room to wait. She didn't want to go outside yet so she sat down at the table across from Mary-Margaret, who was sitting there reading, She looked up and her and smiled brightly.
"You look pretty Emma," she told her kindly. "You also look nervous."
"I am nervous. Thanks for reminding me," she said dryly, and Mary-Margaret giggled.
"Don't be. You look great and the man likes you already, so you have nothing to worry about. Have fun," she told her. Emma nodded, and fidgeted with her purse for a few minutes, before glancing up at the clock. It said ten til seven. Well, it wasn't too early. She could wait ten minutes. After all ten minutes isn't over-eager, it's just being punctual. She grabbed her jacket and purse before heading out the door.
She didn't have long to wait. She could hear him coming up the street, but pretended not to. She instead kept her eyes on the skyline as the sun set. She was almost shaking, and not from the cold.
"Emma," he said. She swallowed and turned to face him. And almost hit the ground. He looked amazing! From the boots, (Italian leather not doubt,) to the snug jeans, (those should be illegal) to the white button down shirt with the top two buttons undone, (tease!) to the tan suede jacket he wore. God he looked gorgeous! She tried not to stare, but it was too hard not to. He smiled at her appraisal.
"I take it the lady approves?" he asked, gesturing to his clothes.
"Oh yeah, I mean, you look great. Dress down real nice," she stammered, giving him a thumbs up. He shrugged.
"I aim to please," he said walking up and holding out his hand to her. She put hers into his, and he bowed over it. She fought back a very girly giggle and blushed. "You look lovely, as always Emma," he commented, his eyes sweeping her for a second. She tried to shrug it off but her voice quavered when she spoke.
"I aim to please," she was so nervous that she was glad he offered his arm.
"Shall we go then?" he asked. She took hold of him and nodded. It was a very nice clear night. The rain had stayed away thankfully. As appealing as getting caught in the rain with the man sounded, she'd seen one too many movies that started with the couple getting caught in the rain, and then ended with them waking up in each others' bed the next morning. "And the problem with that would be?" her very bad brain asked her, to which she told said brain to stuff it before she embarrassed herself.
"So, where are we going?" she asked as they began their stroll down the street. He nodded to the right.
"I thought the park might be a nice place to go. It's quiet in the evenings," he remarked. She nodded her approval. Quiet was good.
"So, I saw Ms. Coachman yesterday, and don't get mad because I asked her, but I wanted to know how you two knew each other, and she thought I thought you two were involved, and she said you were her favorite nephew, but she said if I wanted to know anything else I'd have to ask you," Emma said quickly, wanting to get that out in the open in case he talked to her. He smiled.
"I wouldn't be mad about that. It pleases me that she considers me her favorite," he replied.
"So is she your father's sister, or your mother's?" she asked, and smiled, as if remembering something.
"She is my mother's younger sister," he said. "She has always been good to me," he looked a little wistful. "Even at such times when I didn't deserve it," he looked away, and she squeezed his arm lightly.
"She seems to care for you a lot," Emma observed.
"Yes, she's quite fond of you as well," Emma blushed.
"I'm glad, she's a nice lady," she unsure if she should ask anything else about his family. He seemed to like his privacy. But she supposed she'd have to find out more about him sooner or later.
"So, if you're her favorite nephew, do you have brothers?" she asked. He looked a bit reluctant to answer, but he finally nodded.
"I had two older brothers, but they went to war, and didn't come back," he said gravely. She looked over at him in dismay.
"Oh, I'm so sorry," she said apologetically. He shook his head.
"Don't be dearie. They both died heroically, and it was a long time ago," he told her with a small smile. She nodded, and looked away. 'Well that went well,' she thought to herself. She was afraid to ask anything else now. He seemed to sense her unease, and smiled wider.
"You didn't upset me Emma. My brothers and I never really saw eye to eye. I wasn't as, well, let's just say I didn't have death wish," he told her, and she looked at him strange.
"Well, at least you had brothers. I always wanted a brother. I wondered all the time growing up if I had one somewhere." she said sadly.
"So you never wanted a sister then?" he asked. She shook her head.
"I had my fill of 'sisters' growing up. I once shared a room with four other girls. Not fun," she said, and he nodded understandably.
"Well, I can see how that would turn you against having a sister," he said, knowing that Emma had often endured things of that nature while she was younger. It was a crime that she had been tossed into this world and treated like anything less than the princess she was meant to be. He'd known that her life here would be difficult when he first realized what kind of place they had come to, and it made him worry all the more about his son, though by now he'd be grown. If he was alive at all.
"Yeah, but anything's better than nothing. I'd take a sister if that was all the family I had left," she told him, her voice a little sad. By now they had reached the stone archway over the entrance to the park. The sun had gone down the rest of the way, and the lamps that lit the bike path had kicked on, casting a soft luminescence on the ground.
Gold looked over at Emma, and sighed. She seemed to glow in the low lighting, her golden hair radiating a light all it's own. Ethereal, and perfect, she turned her eyes on him, and smiled. He returned it and stopped walking. The smile left her face, and she looked concerned, until he reached up and stroked his finger down her cheek. Her eyes softened as they met his.
"Emma, my dear, I hope you know that you aren't alone here," he told her softly. Her heart thumped harder against her ribs, and she smiled at him again, and touched his arm.
"I know. I never thought I'd like it here so much," she admitted. "Of course you are one of the reasons I like it here," she told him, and he chuckled low, making her shiver.
"I like you being here," he told her playfully, and she smiled with pleasure, and looked away. He slid his arm around her waist pulling her closer to him. "I do Emma," he said earnestly. She smiled, and they turned to continue their walk, and she put her arm around his waist too. It felt natural, so perfectly and strangely normal a pose for them to walk arm in arm or hip to hip as they were now it almost unnerved Emma. It did him as well, but they both hid it well.
Emma took in the scene before them, and enjoyed the view. It was so quiet, and peaceful. She kept stealing glances at him. She liked the view next to her more than the view in front of her, but shook it off.
"It's different here than living in a big city," she mused. "Time moves slower here." Gold sniggered lightly.
"You have no idea dearie," he said, and she looked over at him.
"So you get bored here?" she asked, and he nodded.
"At times, but things have certainly brightened up since your arrival," he told her, and Emma smiled at the memory of her first couple of days in town.
"I felt like a one-woman freak show when I first arrived here. Everyone looked at me like I had two heads or something," she joked, and he chuckled. "So was I like the only new arrival in town ever?" she asked, and he shrugged his shoulders.
"For quite a while. About ten years actually," he told her, and she looked up in confusion. "Henry was the last new arrival to town," he clarified, and Emma sighed.
"I screwed up sending Henry here. I thought I was doing a good thing, but he ended up with her," she said sadly. Gold pulled her closer, in a comforting way.
"You didn't know he'd be placed with her," he reasoned, and inwardly felt guilty for his part in Henry coming to Storybrooke. He'd merely done as he'd always done and fulfilled a deal. Regina had asked for a son, since she was unable to conceive. That was part of the price she'd paid for casting the curse. So, he had found her one. It just so happened that the son he'd found for her was the son of the aforementioned savior.
He'd had no idea how Emma would come to Storybrooke. Only when she'd come. He hadn't seen Henry as being the one who would fetch her. Seeing the future was tricky at times, and you never see the whole picture. So he'd been just as surprised when he'd realized how fate had directed his hand in bringing her to break the curse that he'd created.
"I know it wasn't intentional, I just feel like I messed up his life," she sighed.
"No more than I did," he found himself admitting. "I was the one who found him for her, and had him brought here," Emma looked over at him.
"You brought him here?" she asked. He winced a little bit thinking she'd be mad at him. He nodded carefully.
"Regina was unable to conceive and she wanted a son so badly. She asked me if I could use my connections to find one for her, and I found Henry," he said. Emma watched him closely. "But think, if I'd not found Henry, and brought him here, then Henry would never have found you, and brought you here, to me," he finished. It probably sounded like he was bullshitting her, but he was being honest.
"So, there's a method to all the madness?" she asked, and he nodded.
"You needn't worry about Henry my dear. I promise you things will get sorted soon," he told her. She wanted to believe that he was right.
They left the bike path, and strolled around the duck pond towards the gazebo. It was very dimly lit, and no one else was in it. Emma had learned that Gold was responsible for Henry being with her, but he'd been honest about it, so she wasn't upset. And he was right. She'd never had met him if Henry hadn't come and found her first.
"I guess you're right, things will work out one way or another. I'm still really mad at myself for the whole playground thing," she admitted. "Now I don't even get to see him, except if I sneak around to do it. And then she just dangles him in front of me like a carrot," she said tersely.
"She likes to do that, it's how she masters people. Teasing them with what they desire, until they crack, and heed her every command. Don't let her do that to you. You are more powerful than she is Emma," he said, as they walked up onto the gazebo, and found a scenic spot overlooking the pond. Emma leaned against the railing and sighed.
"Gold, we've been over this before. I may be sheriff now, but at the end of the day she's still mayor, and I'm still me. How can I fight that?" she asked helplessly.
"In Henry's eyes you've won already. You have his heart my dear, she doesn't," he told her, joining her view, and looking over at her. Her eyes found his, searching his face. He reached out and took her hand. "I've seen how you are together. That day you took him for ice cream he was glowing, as were you," he said, and she nodded.
"Yeah, I still feel guilty about that. I probably violated you rights or something," she said lightly, and he squeezed her hand.
"I wouldn't have begrudged you that time if Regina had come into the cell and beaten me. You should take every opportunity you get with him," he said wistfully, turning back to look over the pond, his eyes seeming to be lost in memory.
"Gold, I don't mean to pry, but can I ask you something?" she asked, and he nodded. "Did you, or do you have a kid?" she asked. He swallowed hard, and his eyes closed in pain.
"Yes, I have a son," he replied finally, his voice thick with emotion. "I don't know where he is though. I lost him a long time ago," he informed her sadly, and Emma's brain tried to register a sense of deja vu with this conversation. "I lost him, nothing more to tell really," she heard a voice say. Her dream? She stored that in the back of her mind to examine later.
"I'm sorry," she said, seeing the sad look on his face. "I don't mean to keep bringing up painful memories," she said, her eyes sweeping his profile. She reached and lay her hand on his shoulder. He turned and looked at her hand where it rested, and then at her face, a small smile on his lips.
"It was a some time ago dearie," he said, his hand coming up to cover hers tenderly. She grazed her lip with her teeth.
"What's his name?" she asked, an dhe smirked at the memory.
"I called him Bae, but his proper name was Baelfire," he told her, and she quirked and eyebrow.
"Seriously?" she asked and he chuckled.
"If you think that's strange," he said, and she waited for him to finish that sentence, but he snickered and shook his head. "I know it sounds unusual," he said, and she shrugged
"Well, yeah, a little, but ah well. I've heard stranger names," she told him honestly. "I like the name Bae," she said, and he smirked.
"Good to know dearie. So why were you all up in arms about test results earlier?" he asked, attempting to change the subject. Emma sighed.
"August is sick, and he's being nuts, but that aside, Marco is apparently August's father," she said. He perked up.
"Really? Well I can't say I'm surprised to hear that my dear," Gold said looking back over the now completely dark sky. "Mother Superior told me he was in town to see his father. I actually believed that," he stopped and swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat. Emma's eyes grew wide as she realized what he was saying.
"You thought he was Bae didn't you?" Emma breathed. He shrugged.
"He led me to think he was as well," he admitted, his shoulder sagging defeatedly. Emma, thought a moment before deciding to put her arms around him. He wrapped his arms around her waist and hugged her closer to him. He didn't allow himself to break down, but inside his heart ached.
"That was very wrong of him," Emma murmured against his shoulder. "But, don't worry. We'll find Bae. I promise," she said before she thought. Gold stiffened a little and pulled back to look her in the eye.
"We'll, find him?" he asked, and she nodded, her eyes shining a little with unshed tears, her heart aching for him, and showing the emotion he wouldn't. She smiled a little.
"I'm good at finding people. It's what I do. In fact my parents are the only people I've looked for and not found, so my track record is pretty good," she told him. He was shocked. Granted he and Emma had grown close of late, but he never expected her to do anything like this.
"You'd really help me find him?" he asked. She grinned.
"Of course I will," she told him in a 'well duh' way.
"What's in it for you then?" he asked, in a half teasing way. She touched his face.
"You, happy because you found your son, that's what. I like you just a little bit you know," she told him. He shook his head.
"I can't see for the life of me why you care for the likes of me," he said, and she looked deep into his eyes.
"Because you believe in me, and you make me think about things I never knew I could think about," she said, running her hand down the front of his jacket.
"Such as?" he asked, searching her face.
"That things really do happen for a reason. That we are here together because we are meant to be here together," she sighed. "That maybe the idea of magic isn't so far fetched after all," she said, and he grinned ear to ear.
"You think this is magic then dearie?" he asked her.
"I think it's something. I don't know what, but magic sums it up pretty well, don't you think?" she mused, and he smirked.
"I don't know about magic. Perhaps it's only attraction Emma," he teased wetting his lips, and hers went dry as the desert.
"Well yeah, I mean that's there, no doubt," she said with a smirk, and he nodded pulling her closer to him. His cane clattered to the floor of the gazebo, and he seized the railing at her side to lean closer to her.
"Merely base primitive me man you woman need?" he asked her, nudging his body against hers, and her knees almost gave way, and her hips bucked in response to his. Quick as lightning she was kissing him with all she had, her fingers finding their way into his hair. He smiled against her lips a moment before responding in kind, one of his hands coming up to cup the back of her head, and the other gripping the railing to keep him upright, and giving him the leverage to mold their bodies against one another.
Emma noticed one thing. The kiss she'd dreamed about earlier had nothing on this one, sweet as it had been and as much as it had affected her, this was sweet madness. She whimpered as Gold swept his tongue across her lips questing for entrance to her mouth. She opened for him and met him halfway nipping at it lightly then drawing it in between her lips. He growled, and teased her tongue into dueling with his.
Gold pressed her back against the railing, so there was no space between his body and hers. And somehow she ended up sitting on the railing with no idea how she got there, and had her legs around his waist when the kiss ended. She gasped for breath, pressing her forehead close to his. He tried to slow his breathing, and looked up into her eyes. She smiled.
"Much more than attraction," she rasped out, and he smiled, bringing his hand around to caress her face.
"Much more, so much more," he breathed and she pulled him to her again, their lips not quite touching. "Perhaps that is why 'this'" he pressed his hips against hers, making her mewl with want, "is so appealing," he growled darkly, his brogue thickening, and his desire for her burning in his eyes. He wished he'd had his magic right now so he could spirit them away to his castle, take her to his room, and tangle her up in silk sheets and fur blankets until they were both so sated they couldn't move for days.
Emma leaned her head to the side, her lips ghosting over his cheek, before closing her lips on his ear, nibbling on it gently. God she wanted him so bad! Her breath wafted over his ear as she replied.
"Can we pretend that yesterday in the shop was our first date?" she whispered, nipping at his neck. He smirked and leaned away to look at her.
"Whatever for?" he asked, and she smirked.
"Because I haven't ever done this on a first date," she replied, her hands traveling around his waist and down further to press him closer to her. He smirked, and did the same to her, making her jump a little.
"What grabbed your date's ass?" he asked playfully, and she smacked at him. "Or spanked him maybe?" he quipped.
"Gold, I swear I can't live through one more night of fever dreams, the weird ones make me lose enough sleep," she told him.
"Well, you aren't the only one who's been losing sleep over 'us'" he admitted.
"Then we should do something about it, doncha think?" she asked.
"Most definitely love, but not here," he said, lifting her off of the railing with one arm, and standing her up on the ground, and held her until she was steady on her feet. "Come with me?" he bade her holding out his arm.
"Where to?" she asked him, glad to go, and he nodded in the direction of Granny's.
"My house is quite a walk from here, and I don't think Miss Blanchard would appreciate the sounds you'll be making," he said, and she swallowed hard. He was right. So he bent to retrieve his cane, and she took his arm and walked with him to the bed and breakfast. It wasn't far, and that was good.
They walked inside and he went straight to the desk and took a key. The part time clerk goggled at him, and the sheriff. He looked at the girl and smiled.
"Not a word, or I'll know who talked. You may take the room out of next month's rent," he told her, and Emma who was too far gone to care just smiled at the girl as they turned and headed for the room.
The door was unlocked, opened, and relocked, with a do not disturb sign on the outside doorknob before Emma and Gold were back in each others' arms again. Both of their jackets hit the floor in suede and leather puddles at their feet. They made it to the bed, and Gold sat down, dropping his cane, and pulling her onto his lap. She straddled his legs and met him halfway for a devouring kiss.
Now that he was sitting and not forced to lean on his bloody cane he could hold her in his arms, and touch her with both hands, which he did with relish. She had been in his blood for far too long, and he needed to be with her. Apparently she mirrored his feelings. She looked to him like a lioness who had not been fed in a week and he was a piece of meat, offered up as a sacrifice to her voracious appetite. And he went gladly, let her eat him alive. At the moment he couldn't care less.
Emma unbuttoned his shirt the rest of the way and slid it down his shoulders. His torso was lean and tan. She bit her lip and sighed. She'd pictured Gold with out a shirt before, but the real thing was so much better. Her eyes traveled the length of his body to the jeans. Gold was sitting in front of her in nothing but jeans and boots. She swallowed hard, and moistened her lips in anticipation.
"See something you like dearie?" he asked. She managed a smirk and looked up at him.
"Oh yeah. I can check one fantasy about you off the list," she teased, tugging at his belt, and he took hold of her wrist gently.
"You have a list?" he teased, placing her hand over his heart. She could feel it thundering under her touch.
"Yeah, of course," she said pressing closer to him, running her hands down his chest, and over his stomach. He sighed, and pulled at the hem of her sweater. He chuckled.
"Well, let's see how many we can can fill then," he growled, and pulled her sweater over her head. She wore a pale yellow bra beneath it, and he quirked and eyebrow. "No black this time?" he asked, and she shrugged.
"It would have shown through," she admitted. "Does color really matter? I mean you are planning on taking it off of me, aren't you?" she asked and he nodded happily, and pulled her into another kiss. She pulled back to undo his belt and unzip his jeans. He began working on hers as well.
Fabric scraping, and hitting the floor, then moans of ecstasy as skin found skin were the only sounds for several minutes, until at last they were both down to the last scrap of clothing between them. He had indeed gotten rid of the bra, before pressing her back against the pillows, Emma gasping as he worshiped her breasts with his hands, and then his lips and tongue. She bit down on her lip and cried out, her hands weaving through his hair holding him against her.
Her hips writhed against him, silently begging for completion that only he could give her. He could feel the urgency in her movements, but he didn't want to rush. He wanted to love her in a way that they could both remember, in case this was the only time it happened. She cared for him, she'd told him that much, but what if she wasn't happy with him in the future?
"Love, are you sure this is what you want? I'm not a good man. You know that," he whispered against her skin. She pulled his face up and looked in the eyes.
"You are more than good enough. Besides, if you were a saint you'd make me look bad," she teased. He chuckled, and ran his hand over her stomach, and lower.
"If you're sure," he hedged, and she pushed his hand down further.
"If you stop now you are going from Gold to Goldielocks, I swear," she threatened playfully. He grinned.
"As you wish princess," he purred, and slipped down to rest between her thighs, pulling off her underwear, and tossing it to the floor. Her eyes never leaving him, as he leaned in to kiss along her thighs and up, low across her belly. After an eternity of tantalization, he finally gave her what she craved. His mouth on her relentlessly, and it was a good thing they had decided to come here,and not her place, because he had been right about the noise. In truth, Mary-Margaret could probably hear her anyway.
He took his time wringing every cry he could from her lips, discovering all the delightful places that made her wild with his fingers, as well as his lips and tongue. She tore at the sheets, pulling them off the corners of the mattress, searching for something anything to hold onto as she rode out the tempest he'd created within her. Wriggling, and writhing against him, crying out for release.
Gold had never been truly in awe of anything in all his life, but his sweet Emma there before him, in the throes of passion, moaning his name was enough to render him speechless. She found her release with his name on her lips, her chest heaving with labored breaths, and her hands fell to her sides, her eyes closed, and sighs of contentment escaped her before she opened her eyes and looked at him up at him, surrounded by tangled sheets and her golden hair mussed, and spread all around her face.
"C'mere," she said softly. He obeyed with a smile, she lifted her hands to tug at his underwear. "Off," she commanded. He leaned up to comply with her request and she looked down. "Not a gun," she breathed, and snickered.
"All me love," he repeated his words from the day before, and she gave a little squeak as he leaned forward, his 'gun' brushing against her. Slowly she tore her gaze away to look back into his eyes, her own burning with the intensity of unfulfilled need.
She lifted her legs and wrapped them around his waist, urging him forward. He ran his hands up her side, over her breasts, and up her arms, before lacing his fingers through hers, and pining them by her head on the pillow. He pressed forward, their bodies fit each others' like they had been created for this. Cast to fit one another perfectly. As he pulled back and thrust deeper inside her, she called his name, and any tiny doubt that may have lingered fled for the hills.
This was what it should feel like, Emma managed to think. All those book hadn't been bullshitting after all. She felt it, deep inside, the feelings she felt for him warming her to her very core. She felt as though she'd never be alone again, like one thousand and one nights of crying herself to sleep could be blinked away in an instant, like she'd finally found one of the things she'd been missing in her life. He felt right, he felt like home to her.
"Emma," he breathed her name like a benediction, and she locked eyes with him.
"Kiss me," she gasped out, and he lurched forward to cover her mouth with his, and she felt this one soul-deep. She kissed back, humming contentedly, and he plundered her mouth with his tongue.
He released her hands, and slid his under her hips and drove deep into her, she hissed greedily, her hands finding his shoulders pulling him even deeper. And he never wanted to be anywhere else. He growled low, and broke the kiss to bend near her ear.
"You're mine Emma, mine," he grunted. He was taking her, even though he had no right, but then in that moment he'd decided. She was his woman, and he was the only man ever able to touch her like this. The only man to hold her against him. And in turn she was the only woman he wanted like this. Never had another made him feel as she did. Never.
"Forever, and longer," she rasped out. And his heart leapt in his chest.
"Forever is a long time," he replied, and she pulled his face back to hers.
"Not long enough," she panted,and leaned up to kiss him once more.
They came together, again and again, wave upon wave against each other, like a storm on the sea. Their bodies covered in perspiration, and straining to meet each others' needs. Until at last with one guttural moan she felt him erupt inside her, and her whole world turned upside down, inside out and broke into a million pieces before it shimmered back into view, and he was there, looking down at her, like she was the only thing that mattered to him. His forehead pressed against hers as he caught his breath, before pressing a kiss on her hairline, the bridge of her nose, and then her lips again, softly this time. They stayed like that, breathing each others' breaths, steadying one another.
"Oh Emma," he murmured, his eyes closed, and then open searching her face. "My Emma," he declared. She smiled a smile smile, still trying to catch her breath.
"Gold, I've never felt like this, not ever. Not even close to this," she told him. He nodded.
"Neither have I love, not even close," he said, and it was true. He'd never felt such a burning yearning desire in his life. Nor enjoyed the company of another like he did her. He leaned and kissed her once more before sliding of to the side to keep from hurting her. She sighed and snuggled closer to him. He pulled the blankets up over them.
Emma didn't want to sleep now. She wanted to stay awake and enjoy the afterglow. But unfortunately her body had other ideas. The lack of sleep mixed with the sudden release of months of sexual tension had drained her to the point of mental,and physical dehydration. Her eyes drifted closed, and in minutes she was out like a light.
Gold held her close,and kept touching her just to make sure she was really there. The whole experience had been real and surreal at the same time. Chemistry, and magic, overwhelming, and underwhelming, giving and taking. What he felt for her transcended all that he had seen or done, any magic he'd worked paled in comparison to her. Could it be? That was his last thought before he joined her in sleep.
A/N : Oh my god another long one! No pun intended. :P So, things are about to get interesting for our pair here, as if they weren't already, what have I done? :) Review please! Pleeeese! :)
