A/N: Thanks for the reviews! They really do help me write faster. Not minutes after I got the first one to the last chapter, I started writing right away. I'd like to state that in this chapter, there are a couple of quotes from the movie that I take no credit for and used solely for Rumpel's amusement. I also added something just for the fangirls out there to think about whenever it rains. :P As always, enjoy and review!

Disclaimer: I don't own Shrek or Dreamworks. But I sure as hell wouldn't mind signing one of Rumpel's contracts for it, no matter the cost.

"Fiona, the sunlight. You're still... an ogre!" Said a sock puppet in awe with orange brown stripes worn into the fabric by the rust of the cage. "No duh, you chunky sack of fleas!"

"Gasp! Loves true form?" Cried another sock puppet stained slightly greenish... with something most would rather not know and Rumpelstiltskin didn't want to be reminded of. "C'mon! Really? A day? For a hard ass like you, you're pretty easy to win over! How could you just – ugh!"

Rumpelstiltskin tore the socks off his hands, balled them up with a strangled growl and resisted the temptation to chuck them out of the cage. He'd need his socks after all. If he had sunk so low to have come up with this kind of entertainment, hell only knows what he'd do with his scarf.

Rumpelstiltskin was in a foul mood, naturally, but he knew it had nothing to do with the cage this time. He couldn't even blame the weather, which had been sprinkling on and off all day and making him all kinds of itchy with the humidity. The skies couldn't make up their mind and so he had removed his vest and shirt in the off chance that he'd have himself a shower. Even the prospect of being clean couldn't brighten his mood like it usually did, since the alternative is having Shrek splash bucketfuls of icy river water at him randomly and without warning. No, he knew full well what had put him in a such a mood and the fact that he knew only made it worse.

He had got what he wanted.

Strange how that happens, isn't it? You yearn for something so much and when you finally get it, you either hate it, wondered why it mattered so badly, or it wasn't enough. It's never enough. Rumpelstiltskin knew this; hard not to what with the way he's seen it happen over and over again. He was at the point where he had almost forgotten how things were supposed to taste and that meal last night brought everything back with a near painful clarity and yet... and yet it felt as though it had cut his tongue with every swallow. And what for? It wasn't a big deal; it didn't give him his freedom. A part of him couldn't wait for the next meal, but another hoped Fiona wouldn't bother. And for reasons he couldn't quite fathom, that fact alone troubled him since he always knew just what he wanted.

"Just what do you want?" Fiona had asked him one sunset in another world; another life away... Strange, but... he didn't know the right answer then either. Perhaps that's the problem with him; he wants everything and nothing at all.

"Why you got polka dots on you, bird man?"

His brooding interrupted, Rumpelstiltskin straightened up and found the source of his disturbance to be one of Shrek's bratty little children. It stood on tiptoes to peer through the bars with a grubby finger pointing at the freckles that dusted his shoulders. The pink bow on the head and summer dress was an obvious indicator of it being female, but he chalked that up as a matter of opinion. Despite his initial annoyance at having his scheduled hour of angst cut short, conversation with anyone right now was a welcome distraction.

"They're freckles," he said as patiently as he could. Polka dots, really? They aren't that big... if anything, he's always been told they were cute. "And I'm not a bird."

"Why live like one?" She asked as she twisted a finger in her bow innocently. Well, she had a point there.

"Well, aren't you just...cute ," he bit off at the last second and contained his temper.

Rumpelstiltskin never did like children, but no matter how much satisfaction it'd give him to make her run away in tears, this child happened to belong to Shrek of all people and that made all the difference. With a sigh, he composed himself and adopted a pleasant tone. Might as well humor the child.

"Oh, it's cheap that's why," he said in his old devil-may-care way. "Living in a cage where I can hold out my hands and touch all the sides makes me feel just... chipper. And I love the outdoors; got a nice collection of ticks like you wouldn't believe."

"You look like a little boy."

As a rule, the endearing honesty of children usually border the line of just pain brutality. So what if his race makes him shorter then the average ten year old? Sure, he did have a habit of skipping, but who doesn't like a nice skip when you're gloating? 'Little' indeed. He was... big where it mattered. Some children just talk far too much then they should. Although encouragement, rather than reprimand, may be the key to persuading a child to just shut the hell up, Rumpelstiltskin believed that there eventually comes a time when you have to face the fact they'll never listen, and slap them. But since he couldn't very well reach, he decided that telling her what she really looked like would have to do.

He dropped his pleasant façade in a second and began, "Well, you look like a-"

"Felicia!" Shrek called from the door as he stepped outside; newspaper in hand. "Come inside ya wee sneak before ye catch cold in the rain!"

"Buh-bye, bird man!" Felicia giggled; skipping her way back into the house and somehow, Rumpelstiltskin felt as though he had lost a one-sided argument with that skip. Damn, did he miss skipping.

"Real cute kid you got there, Shrek," Rumpelstiltskin said with a forced smile as the ogre neared for a chat that had over time, become routine between them. "She takes after you."

"Nah, she's got 'er mother's eyes and temper," Shrek said with as sigh as he watched his wife tending to the children through the open window and Rumpelstiltskin couldn't help but silently agree. He looked elsewhere so he wouldn't be reminded. "So, how's it hangin', Rumpel?"

"Ha, ha, ha... funny," Rumpelstiltskin said with a scowl. "I never get tired of hearing that. Every morning. Of everyday..."

"And I never get tired of sayin' it."

"When am I getting out of here?" Rumpelstiltskin asked, out of sheer routine then actual curiosity.

At first, he had demanded to be let out; screamed and cursed and when he couldn't find the words to express just how much he hated Shrek, he came up with new ones. After awhile when that got him nowhere, he tried bargaining despite the fact that he had nothing to his name and Shrek had all he could ever need. Then came compromise and acceptance. Rumpelstiltskin had argued that maybe with good behavior, he might earn his freedom. But Shrek didn't buy his false smiles, pleasant tone, and promises of doing good deeds in the future. In the end, a rat is still just a rat. And as usual, the reply is always the same:

"When yah good an' ready, Rumpel," Shrek sighed... but this time, it sounded almost like pity and Rumpelstiltskin wouldn't have that. He hasn't hit rock bottom yet to be pitied.

"C'mon, let's be reasonable here," he stood up and stretched his aching back; raindrops shaking loose from the cage and catching in his hair as he gave his best smile. "I'm sure we can work things out. So, I tricked a few innocent people, no big deal, right? Made some bad wardrobe choices. Enslaved a few species... I've learned my lesson! I mean, can you really stay mad at a face like this?"

Shrek was obviously not amused. "Tha' face is the reason why I don't have constipation in the morning."

Rumpelstiltskin dropped his smile in an instant. Still, he had a point since he did look a bit rough around the edges. Not that if could be helped anyway. Being obscenely adorable has a way of wearing off after living in a cage for so long, as shocking as that sounds.

"You've got to admit, I ended up not hurting anyone anyway! It was all just between me and you. Nothing ever happened, no one ever existed and... and.. " he paused. That also meant Fiona never existed. Was it all just – but a raindrop fell straight into his eye and he blinked out of it; his train of thought broken.

"I know, but the intent was there. Hell, coulda happened withou' ya if I'dve been any thicker when I first met Fiona," He smiled wanly and he didn't sound as bitter as he should have been; certainly not as bitter as Rumpelstiltskin would've been. In fact, he sounded like a strange mixture of amused and world-weary, as though he'd told himself the very same thing for years.

"Then... then why am I here?" He slumped back down with a sigh. Funny how he's never bothered to ask that before now. "It's not like I make a great lawn ornament."

"Believe it or not, but yah did me a favor, Rumpel," Shrek's eyes drifted towards the outhouse and Rumpelstiltskin knew this conversation was drawing to a close. "I'm just paying yah back is all. Hang in there, eh?"

"Ah ha... you're a riot."

A favor, right. If Shrek considered imprisonment to be a favor, he didn't want to find out what his idea of freedom would be. Rumpelstiltskin was tempted to at least make a rude gesture at his retreating back, but wasn't bothered to waste the effort. Instead, he squinted up at the gray skies, or at least tried to until those shy little raindrops decided to start coming down full force. Despite everything, he couldn't help but smile; face upturned to the skies. Finally, a shower. Great big drops of warm summer rain flattened his unruly hair and streaked down the dirt on his cheeks. The smell of the earth was thick and rich, and never would he have imagined that something so simple as rain would have given him such pleasure.

Once upon a time, he had bathed in glorious tubs filed with scented oils and soaps... and not always alone. Now, as strange as it seemed, he couldn't remember why he missed it. The rain came down in sheets and he laughed out loud at the absurd idea. He took advantage of the moment and stood up to soak himself thoroughly; scrubbing the grease and dirt out of his hair. By chance, he happened to glance over towards the window and caught Fiona looking his way. Rumpelstiltskin chewed on the inside of his cheek and he spared a sideways glance towards the outhouse to make sure Shrek was still busy. Ivory tubs or not, he had to admit he missed the company he had in them the most...

"You like what you see?" he grinned wolfishly at her. She probably couldn't hear a thing he said over the downpour, but her frown made it obvious that she understood the meaning behind his smile.

She promptly closed the shutters with a snap.

"Fine," he mumbled and nearly slipped on his discarded 'Fiona' sock. "I've got this one anyway!"

Sometimes, he wonders if the cage had driven him to the point of insanity. And sometimes... just sometimes... he thinks it's an improvement.

"You know... I'm surprised you're keeping up with your end of the deal."

Rumpelstiltskin looked up from his meal and caught Fiona's brow arch in quiet curiosity. He was just as surprised himself since he didn't think she'd show up again. Why would she after the story he gave her last night? No one likes a story where everything's going good for the bad guy. And even if she did decide to continue, he expected that she'd slap him with a crummy bowl of porridge because of the way he so callously admitted his misdeeds. Then again, she wasn't like him. No twisted words. It wasn't a quality they shared since he believed plain sincerity like that can be easily manipulated. You set yourself up as an easy target that way; weak-minded with fanciable ideas, and then just end up playing into the hands of another. Sucks, but that's just how it goes.

"Disappointed?" he smirked over the rim of his goblet and took a small sip, savoring the cream sherry. He used to consider it a peasants drink, but damn did it taste like a slice of heaven now.

"Yes... and no," and the left side of her mouth curled just a bit, but still much too serious to be called a smile. "You do have a reputation for swindling innocent people and going back on your word."

Rumpelstiltskin snorted down at his plate of strawberry cakes and sucked the syrup from his finger. "Innocent? Yeah, right."

"I don't ge-"

"Think about it," he set his spoon down. Since she was in no hurry to push him to his story, he might as well correct her. "People that came to me, usually wanted a little... y'know... somethin' that wasn't really good for them anyway."

"But you made my parents -"

"Her parents."

"- her parents disappear. They were good people! Why would you do such a thing?" Fiona held no anger in her voice, but there was a tone in there that he couldn't put his finger on and made him catch her eyes again.

Did everyone have the inane idea that he always went out of his way to destroy people's lives? Just one thing. One thing screwed up everything. It's not everyday a king walked into his carriage and yes, he took advantage of it; the ultimate contract. He doesn't go about asking for peoples souls in return or anything. Any supposed 'crime' he might have committed, the client was already doing to himself. Nothing more, nothing less. Rumpelstiltskin knew he wasn't a nice guy by any means, but he could at least take comfort in the sins he hasn't committed since that's all he's really got left to hold onto.

"Didn't they make you disappear?" Rumpelstiltskin said bluntly, fingering the lingering syrup off the edge of his mouth. "And to be so selfish to throw away their kingdom, the lives of thousands, for the sake of one person? Who's really the bad guy there? But hey – I don't judge, no big deal. That's why people came to me."

"You made the terms and they were desperate. The fault doesn't lie with them," she countered flatly, and yes, that much was true. But what else do you ask of a king? Gold isn't such a big deal because gold can run out. But a kingdom... well... there's power in that.

"Well, yeah... but they could have said no? Nothing could have broken that curse on you anyway, so yeah– I took advantage," Rumpelstiltskin admitted and took another bite. "Look, I've dealt with people that wanted people dead, wanted to steal wives, even own kingdoms as well! All I ever did was give them what they wanted and the bigger their greed, the bigger the cost. And if I took advantage, they probably had it coming anyway."

"Unbelievable, there's no way they twisted things up for themselves all the time," Fiona said with a roll of her eyes; still cool and untouchable, up there in her tower like always."It's not fair that the exit clause you write is hardly noticeable at a glance."

"I made the exit clause hidden for a reason. Before, I had a guy once who wanted all the gold of a famous sunken ship," He stirred the syrup idly and wondered why he felt the need to tell her anything since it wasn't part of the deal. Regardless, he continued. "If he didn't like how it went down, he could still have however much gold he could carry. Great deal, right?Turns out, I sent him to an underwater cove."

"Very clever," Fiona snorted in distaste; running a hand through her hair. His eyes watched the rise and fall of her fingers as they swam through her hair and wished he could remember how it felt. Why did she have to wear it loose tonight? "So the man drowned, but still got what he wanted, as promised."

"You don't get it," Rumpelstiltskin chuckled and tore his eyes away from the rain drops that had fallen from the branches overhead and caught in her hair, glistening like small rubies. "He used the exit clause to take what he could carry up to the surface. His greed weighed him down with gold. If he didn't know about the exit clause... maybe he could've lived. "

Fiona smiled her not-quite smile again; as if she knew a secret he wasn't privy to. "So you started hiding the exit clause because you felt guilty."

Rumpelstiltskin chewed his lip with a frown. How does she do that? He could spin words into gold; convince anyone that day was night and night was day, be she - well she was... something. And he didn't know what to make of her. So much alike in many aspects to the woman he once knew, and yet so very different. This Fiona, no matter what the subject the argument was about, spoke with an unruffled grace he almost envied. She probes so softly, that one could mistake it for a caress and just spill everything without a second thought. She judges; but gently and with an air of understanding that was beyond him. It was almost admirable... if it wasn't so downright annoying.

What threw him off the most, was that right beneath that... was the Fiona he used to know. There are moments where she surfaces; bold and brash. Blunt as a hammer and still twice as sharp as any blade. That light breeze in her hair and hand at her hip... and so very passionate. She didn't speak with soft words of understanding. She spoke with unwavering cynicism that rivaled his own. They argued over everything; took cheap shots, deserving ones, and sometimes... just to remind each other that there was only hate between them. And in the quiet moments when they forgot about their hate … well... it never lasted long. There wasn't enough time when she had a revolution to run. Never enough time since he had a kingdom to secure... and all for the dread of a kiss.

"Yes... and no," he said finally, and that much was true. In the end, he was actually a bit disappointed but learned a great deal about the nature of want and greed... and just how far people would bend to get their happily ever after. "Usually the hidden exit clause just made things interesting."

"Fair enough," Fiona nodded and collected his empty bowl. "So, tell me about your warrior ogress... was she a thorn in your side?"

Rumpelstiltskin hid his grin behind his goblet and watched her slow smile widen; shadows dancing to the flames across her face.

"Oh yeah," he laughed quietly. "She had quite the sense of humor, lemme tell ya..."

A/N: Thanks for reading! Please review!