"Jonothan?" she guessed.

"Nope."

It was early morning, and he sat examining some old paperwork that he'd brought home from his shop the night before. It was a cold, cloudy day, and he'd been waiting for hours for her to wake.

"Would you like some breakfast, Jerrold?" she asked.

"No thank you to the breakfast, and no, not Jerrold."

She grabbed an apple from the counter and sat beside him on the sofa; there was an acceptable distance between them, but her closeness still made his pulse quicken.

"Albert?"

"No…"

"Paul?"

"No."

"Timmy?"

For the first time, he looked up from his papers to stare at her quizzically. "Do I look like a Timmy?"

"You never know," she replied, shrugging. "By the way, I'll be going out with Emma and the girls tonight."

"Oh?"

"Yes well, during my time off of course."

"Then I shan't be expecting to see you this afternoon," he replied.

"No, you shan't," she said, mocking his formal tone.

His stare bore into her, and a little crease appeared between his eyes. "Watch it, Dearie. You seem to forget that I am still your employer."

Her jaw dropped and her eyebrows rose dramatically, faking extreme offense. "Are you threatening to fire me, Mr. Gold?"

"Maybe," he said, leaning forward, "if you don't learn to watch that pretty little mouth of yours."

She met his challenge by leaning forward as well, and soon she was close enough for Gold to smell the sweet scent of apple on her breath.

"You couldn't. You'd be so lonely again."

He scoffed. "Lonely? Is that what you think?"

"You are neat as a button, Mr. Gold. You clean all your own clothes, pick up all your own dishes. It seems to me that you need a maid like a fish needs a bicycle. So why pay me to be here?"

"You sure do flatter yourself."

She merely smiled. "I don't think these town people understand you. Maybe they're a bit narrow-minded, or maybe you've done some awful things to destroy your reputation here. But they don't understand you, I think, and so you're lonely."

"Or maybe you're just misinformed," he sneered.

"Whatever you say, Peter."

"Peter?"

"Peter? It's Peter, isn't it! Peter?"

"No," he said, smirking, "it's not Peter."

…..

Henry checked the time on his cell phone. 8:00 and zero missed calls from Regina. Perfect, he thought, smiling.

He trudged through the rain and cold. It wasn't long before he was standing outside the front door of the Margret residence, eager to see his mom.

But he noticed that the door was opened ever so slightly, and though the crack was small, it was still enough for voices to drift through.

"Well ladies," said Emma's voices, "Thank God we're stocked up on drinks because it looks way too stormy to drive to the bar tonight."

"Hand me that bottle," came the voice of Mary.

Henry stifled some laughter.

"A little rain's keeping you from having a good time?" said Ruby bitterly.

Then Emma: "No one wants you drunk and behind the wheel on a night like this…"

"Whatever you say sheriff," replied Ruby mockingly. "I just feel bad for poor Belle here. Locked up all day with that nasty old Mr. Gold, she at least deserves one night of fun."

At hearing Belle's name, Henry's interest peaked. Shivering, he leaned forward to press his ear to the door's opening.

"It's not all that bad, really," sad Belle.

"Well, compared to being in an asylum…"

"Ruby!" said Emma and Mary simultaneously.

"What?" she said. "I'm only speaking the truth. Just the other day, Gold came into the diner to collect his pay. My Granny was thirty dollars short of eight hundred since we had to replace a window… some kids broke it with a baseball—and he nearly had her evicted. All over thirty dollars. The prick."

Henry, who knew little of the adult world, could still sense that Ruby had had a few drinks prior to his arrival.

"That's strange," said Belle after a moment. "He pays me quite generously, and I barely find myself doing any work at all."

"He probably just keeps you around so he can have something pretty to look at, old perv," Ruby went on.

"Now that's what worried me too," said Emma. There was a pop, like champagne being opened. "But don't worry, Belle. Soon you'll have earned enough to move out and seek other jobs."

"But it's not like that," Belle protested. "Honestly, he's a perfect gentleman."

"So you never catch him eyeing you? Like a wolf, stalking its prey…" asked Ruby.

Henry could barely hear Belle's reply over the heavy rain.

"I… well, he—"

"Leave her alone. You're making her uncomfortable," argued Mary softly.

"No," said Belle, "Mr. Gold is a curious man—a man who clearly detaches himself from others. But he's not a bad man. He's rather sweet, actually, and witty and playful…"

Then came the sound of bark-like laughter. "Someone here has a bit of a crush," said Ruby. "And on Gold, of all people. See, this is why we need to take her out. She needs to learn about the other men Storybrooke has to offer."

"Ah, leave her alone," said Emma. "I'm sure Gold is a decent man to work for. Now, think we can order a pizza through this storm?"