Emma Swan
"Ah, Emma. To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"Regina." The woman spat out the name as if it were acid on her tongue.
He smirked as he limped around the glass counter. "Someone that we both hold in equal disdain."
"I would think that you two would be as thick as thieves," Emma remarked dryly as she crossed her arms.
"Why? Because we both have impeccable taste in dress-wear?" He jested as he motioned to his suit jacket, freshly starched and ironed, as always.
"What? No. I mean-" she stumbled and he smirked. "I'm here to ask for another favor," she quickly changed the subject.
His eyebrows quirked in surprise. "Are you sure you want to do that, dearie? You already have one deal with me, you might not want another."
"Trying to talk me out of it? Because I am well aware of our accord."
Sensing the irritation in her voice, Mr. Gold chuckled. "Aren't we feeling especially icy today?" She didn't respond and he took that as a sign to continue. "What can I do for you then?"
"With Graham dead," he detected a hint of poorly concealed grief in her voice, "The role of Sheriff becomes mine, if I want it."
"And do you?"
She nodded. "Yes, but that's where Regina comes in. She doesn't want me to take the position."
"Well, as I understand it, there's nothing she can do about it."
"As Mayor, she can call for a public election."
"Which would actually imply that she had found a worthy replacement."
Emma scoffed. "It's Sydney Glass."
Mr. Gold's eyes widened in surprise and then he laughed impishly. "What is she thinking? Storybrooke's bumbling journalist for Sheriff. Do we really want to put a loaded pistol into Mr. Glass's hands?"
"Then you undrstand why I need your help?"
"You need me to use my charm to help convince the people of Storybrooke to vote for Emma Swan."
She rolled her eyes. "I was thinking more like using your experience and influence in this town to help me make an impression."
He smiled his signature crocodile grin. "Well, Miss Swan, sometimes politics can be a bit messier than we would like."
"We do this my way or not at all," she replied in a hard tone.
"Very well."
Her eyes became thin slits as she watched him suspiciously. "And what do you want in return?"
"As with your other debt, I'll just wait to cash it in. Let's say...I'm saving it for a rainy day."
Emma nodded and left the shop, less than pleased. Mr. Gold watched her leave with a grin. That had gone very well indeed.
He could cross Emma Swan off of his list.
Regina Mills
Madame Mayor didn't even bother with a greeting. Her lips curled up distastefully as she opened the door and allowed him to pass into her home and through to her office. She sat down behind her desk but he preferred to just stand and watch.
After several seconds of silence, she rolled her eyes. "Is there a reason you came by or are we just going to stare at each other?"
"You put a whole new meaning to the phrase 'cut to the chase', Regina," he purred pleasantly. "But since you insist, I thought you might like to know that I was paid a visit by Emma Swan this morning." Regina frowned in obvious disdain for the woman's name. "She tells me that there is to be a public election for the position of Sheriff."
Regina dipped her head. "I believe it is only fair that we give Storybrooke's finest a chance to run."
"And by 'finest' you mean Sydney Glass?" He raised an incredulous brow, disbelief marring his features. "Come on now, Regina, we both know this is because of your personal hatred for Miss Swan."
Her eyes flashed in warning and Mr. Gold knew that he had managed to successfully hit a nerve. "My reasons are my own, Mr. Gold."
"Quite right, Madame Mayor. I just thought you might want to know that she came to ask for my help."
"Why would she go to you?"
He shrugged. "She obviously knows where I stand in this town, and she is right. Mr. Glass may have you, but I'm the one these people are really afraid of."
She chuckled darkly. "And you think that that will be enough to convince these people to vote for Miss Swan? Fear?"
"Oh, no. Emma made it very clear that we will be following the rules of the book in this election."
Regina scoffed, "She obviously doesn't know you then."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"Why are you really doing this?" She gave him a pointed stare. "You don't do anything without a carefully thought out reason behind it. So, why are you helping her?"
"I think Miss Swan is the right woman for the job," he answered nonchalantly.
She frowned at him, clearly not believing him. "You're sure this has nothing to do with defeating me?"
"Defeat you? Why on earth would I want to do that?" His lips tightened just faintly, barely obvious, but still present if one looked closely enough. He couldn't tell if Regina noticed or not.
"Surely, Gold, there has to be something in our past that you desire to get revenge for. With so much history between us, we've known each other for many years, there has to be something."
He cocked his head. "What are you implying?" She was certainly trying to extract some kind of information from him. Could she actually suspect that he remembered?
"Sometimes..." she began to explain slowly, "Sometimes I wonder exactly how much you know, Gold."
"I'm not sure what you mean, dearie," he replied in a calm voice, but on the inside, his heart was pounding hard. Of course she would suspect. The Queen was many things, but incompetent was not one of them. He flashed her a quick grin and then excused himself from her office, not bothering to look back. He was sure that if he did, he would find her devilishly evil smirk following him out the door.
It may not have been pleasant, but Regina could get crossed off the list as well.
Now there was just one more person he needed to see.
Garrett Stone
Garrett Stone was unsuspecting of any danger as he rolled down the sidewalk in his wheelchair. A cigarette was in his mouth as he passed by several townsfolk; he didn't so much as acknowledge any of them. His eyes remained focused straight ahead. It was only when he began to pass by an alleyway that he was broken out of his thoughts.
A pair of hands reached out from the alley and grabbed his wheels, dragging him forward into the alleyway and off of the sidewalk. His back hurt as the wheelchair slammed against the brick wall. Hard. When he opened his eyes he was surprised to see that it was Mr. Gold standing before him. Despite the fact that this man had just thrown him, wheelchair and all, into a brick wall, Mr. Gold was the exact picture of calm. His hands were in front of him on his cane and his head was cocked to the side.
"Hello, Mr. Stone."
"What the hell?!" The man shouted in confusion.
Mr. Gold smirked. "Foul language will get you nowhere with me."
"I don't know what you want!" The man exclaimed as he took the cigarette out of his mouth. "I paid you my rent last week!"
"Your rent is not the cause for this meeting, I can assure you," Mr. Gold replied pleasantly. At least, his voice would have seemed pleasant if it hadn't been for the hardness of his stare.
Garrett frowned. "Then what do you want, Gold?"
"I want one thing, and it's really very simple," the man began as he limped up to Mr. Stone and leaned down so that he was eye level with him. "I want your word that you will stay away from Miss French. All contact ends. You don't call her, you don't write her, if you see her on the street, you don't so much as look at her. You understand?"
The man actually laughed. "And why would I do that?"
"Because I'm asking nicely."
"I don't need to stay away from Belinda if I don't want to."
Mr. Gold chuckled darkly and raised his cane. "Believe me, I am asking nicely. But I don't have to."
Garrett eyed the cane and then Mr. Gold. "Why should I?"
"Based on your last altercation with Miss French, it is obvious that you have no desire for her well-being. You selfishly accosted her in the street, humiliated her in front of everyone, and brought her heartache. In this world, that's what we call unchivalrous."
"And what would you know about chivalry?" Mr. Gold refused to answer and then Garret quirked his lips into a smirk. "Why do you care anyway? You think you're her knight and shining armor, don't you? Well, buddy, hate to disappoint, but I'm her baby's father! She'll always be mine."
"Why don't we let Miss French decide that, hmm?" He replied harshly, the man's words stinging him more than he would admit. But the joke was really on Mr. Stone because Rose was not his. Damned curse memories!
Mr. Stone gave him a strange and curious look. "Do you have feelings for her?" When Mr. Gold floundered for an answer, his eyes widened with shock. "You do, don't you? I didn't see that one coming!"
"Mr. Stone..." he growled in warning.
But the man heeded no such warning. He continued to taunt, to provoke the beast. "Who could've guessed that you could ever love someone!"
"I'm sure it's not too strange a notion. Everyone is susceptible to such emotions." He winced at the words. They sounded harsh to his ears, but this man was making him very angry. He brought his cane up and hit it across Garrett's cheek. The blow wasn't very hard but it stopped the man's laughter. "Now, you listen to me. The next time you talk to Miss French, this cane and I won't be the only thing you'll have to worry about, I can guarantee it."
"What are you going to do? Kill me?" This man refused to show any fear.
"I admit, the prospect sounds delightful," Mr. Gold crooned and then hit the man once more. This time the blow fell on his ear and there was blood. "Let that serve as a reminder," he finished as the man howled in pain.
Mr. Gold turned to walk away but Garrett called after him. "She'll never love you, you know!" Mr. Gold didn't so much as stop, pretending not to hear the man's hurtful words. If only Mr. Stone could know just how much she had once loved him...
"Good day, Mr. Stone." Mr. Gold called out to the man before turning onto the sidewalk and leaving the man to nurse his drumming ear alone.
The last person could be crossed off of his list.
Today, if he said so himself, had been a productive day. Very productive indeed.
Belinda French
"You look like you had a good day," she said as she smiled sweetly at him. Rose was bundled up and ready to go out into the cold.
"Very. Productive to the very last."
She nodded her head. "Glad to hear it." He helped her into her coat. "I don't know when we'll be over this cold spell. If it snowed it would be one thing, but it's just freezing and gray."
"I'm guessing we'll have snow within the next day or so."
"And what makes you say that?" She asked as she turned around to look at him.
He motioned to his injured knee. "This old leg has gotten very good at being able to guess the weather."
"Well, I hope you're right," Belinda replied brightly and then she picked up Rose's carrier. "I'll see you tomorrow, Robert."
"Tomorrow is Sunday, Belinda. You may take the day off."
"Oh," she replied, and did his eyes betray him, or had she looked just a bit disappointed? "I had completely forgotten."
Mr. Gold smirked. "You're enjoying working for me far too much, dearie." He was teasing her and she laughed. He reveled in the sound. "I'll drive you home, Belinda."
"You really don't have to-"
He shook his head at her protests. "It's freezing out there and I'm not going to make you walk home in that. No arguments."
She grinned and shifted Rose. "Alright. I accept."
And he drove her home.
…..As he did night after night for the many weeks to come...