A/N: So I'm back with another chapter! This took much longer than it should have, and I do feel a bit bad about it. Got caught writing at work during the slow hours so... that kinda hurt my time. I work at a gas station, the late night shift. Alone. Dunno what the big deal was. No one wants anything between 3-5 in the morning but smokes and condoms so I'm not really needed for customer service. So... I hope y'all enjoy and review! Oh, and about the title of the chapter... yeah just couldn't get that commerical out of my head one day. :P

Disclaimer: Dreamworks and whatever. Just know, I'm not making any money.

"You turned my old room... into a nest for your mutant goose?"

Rumpelstiltskin snorted with laughter at this. In truth, he had no idea that Fifi's room used to be Fiona's. In every room of the castle, he made sure that Fifi had a seat just as luxurious as his own and decided that perhaps she'd like her own room as well. They're hardly ever apart so in the end, she's only used the room once so far, probably in an effort to please him. One quick glance around informed him that Fifi was elsewhere in the castle, possibly getting her beak polished or something.

Fiona's fingers traced the intricate gold patterns etched into the ivory pillars that surrounded Fifi's silken nest with a touch of amusement on her lips. Her eyes glanced up at the paintings of himself and Fifi that decorated the room and Rumpelstiltskin took the opportunity to step carefully out her line of sight towards the door. It wouldn't take but a few seconds to get a mob of witches up here and have the tables turned on Fiona. While some may see this as the proverbial rat deserting a sinking ship, he preferred to think of it as quietly pulling your head out of the bear trap you've landed yourself in, placing it neatly behind the bear it's intended for, and tripping them in it like nature demands. He's a coward, no denying that, but he's not stupid enough share idle chitchat with someone that's openly entertained the notion of killing him.

"Never would've figured you to be such a cat lady..."

Rumpelstiltskin had barely grasped the handle of the door behind his back before he froze; all thoughts of a strategic retreat forgotten. "Say what now?"

"You heard me," Fiona drawled, still turned away from him as she inspected the pink drapes, running the silk through her fingers. "The creepy types that obsess over their pets like they're children." She gave a little tilt of her head and her eyes raked over him critically. "Looking at it now, it makes sense since you never got that baby you wanted..."

He let go of the door handle as a mean smile crept up his face. So she thinks that by cracking open a book with pretty pictures, she knows everything about him? Who the hell was she to talk about things she was ignorant of? Despite all that, he welcomed it in a way. It was refreshing to actually have someone call him out on something after having everyone kiss his ass for so long. He wasn't quite sure when the novelty wore off, but one morning he woke up and instead of that amusement he usually feels (however brief) at someone sucking up, he suddenly felt kinda bored with how spineless everyone was around someone who swings their feet on a bar stool and skips around in glee. If he can't find himself to be that intimidating, why respect someone that does?

"Gotta say, I'd rather get screwed out of a deal then get stood up by my 'True Love'," he replied smoothly despite his rising annoyance. Eat that, bitch. If Fiona was insulted, she didn't give any sign that she was. Her pace was relaxed, almost as if she were browsing a book section, haughty and slightly bored. Rumpelstiltskin wasn't so sure if he admired that about her or not.

"Who says you ever had one?" she asked airily as if inquiring about his health and still not paying him the slightest attention as she poked and prodded the decorative eggs on the mantelpiece.

Damn it.

"Not altogether sure what you brought me up here for," he said as he sat down on Fifi's nest, deciding to change tactics and just speak plainly. There's nothing to be gained if they just stand around here, swapping insults. They'll eventually run out and have to start on 'Yo Momma's' and no one ever really wants to go there. "Is there... is there something you want?"

"Not particularly..." Fiona stepped away from the mantelpiece and frowned at a bare stretch of wall, lips pursed as if she had recently sucked on a lemon. "Didn't I have a poster hung here?"

This woman insulted him, threatened his life, practically abducted him in his own backyard – and the only thing she thinks to talk about is a silly poster on her wall? "Yeah – Stonehenge, I think."

"That's right," Fiona lips turned up just barely. "What did you do with all my stuff?"

"Threw it out with your miserable childhood," he smiled back nastily, finally able to have some kind of insult that would give him the upper hand in the conversation. Chances are, he could end up with that forgotten bear trap poised and ready between his legs, but it didn't matter now. He wanted to see some sort of reaction out of her – just anything to know that he was getting under her skin just as much as she was.

"Good," she said with what sounded like sincere relief. No gratitude, but no hesitance either.

Damn it.

Fiona turned away and finally looked at him with a wry smile on her face and he itched to know what she was planning. He wanted to spread her thin like parchment, lick the nib of his quill and scratch away at her till all her thoughts rose to the surface behind that smile. But he knew he never could. There was no way possible. Just in this small conversation, Rumpelstiltskin had come to realize that she was an intriguing contradiction; her very essence was. Two races, two lives – a third if he counted the simple housewife she could have been in another world away. Here stood a woman that was just as crude as she was graceful; beautiful and yet malformed by her ferocity. The very flame of passion yet a cool breath of ice with her indifference. Classy and rough around the edges. Exactly what his example of a perfect woman should be.

She should thank him, he decided. There just wasn't anything all that attractive or remotely interesting about her before he came around and ruined her life.

"You know... " Fiona began as she plopped down on the silken cushion, at ease despite the fact she was sitting next to her enemy. " … I think... I'm getting tired of all of this."

"This...?"

"Hiding," she said quietly as her brows furrowed together with a slight frown.

At first, he had no idea what she was getting at until it dawned on him after a few moments: none of the other ogres knew about her curse. Now at last, his suspicions were confirmed. He pondered for a moment on how living a double life would be, only to come to the conclusion that he's doing more or less the same thing. In truth... they shared a lot of things in common, in one life or another. In this life Fiona never got her happily ever after, and in his old life, neither did he. She once was rich with everything she could ever want or need just like him, and now she most likely lives the life of a peasant like he once did.

Strange... how they contradicted and complimented each other yet never on the same side.

"You're the only one I can be real with... ironic isn't it? Sometimes... the need for reality is just as nagging as the need for fantasy," she continued with a sigh.

Funny how that goes, doesn't it? That the very contradictions that annoy you to no end, are the very ones you just can't do without. As soon as it's gone, it itches like a phantom leg. Of course you know it's not there, glad for it even because you'll no longer have to feel it drag against the floor and fight against you with every step... but soon, you'll come to realize that without it... there's nothing to keep you going anymore. The fight was only thing that makes you feel human. It was at this very moment where he decided that things just came too easily now that he made his perfect little world to cater to his very whim and he missed the challenge of that struggle; that certainty of need. But it wasn't so simple in her case. What made it all the more surreal, is that she had no idea of a better life. Did she ever wake up and feel that something wasn't right? That things aren't the way they should be?

"I wouldn't call it ironic," he said finally as he felt the silk drag beneath him as she stood up, obvious that their little discussion about nothing at all was coming to an end. Shame that... he was starting to like just taking about nothing. Maybe he was getting a bit tired of it all himself. "Reality's a contradiction."

Fiona gave a humorless laugh, more of a sigh then anything as she paused in front of the still open passageway. "I guess we are." So she understood how confusing all of it was, and so very needless and necessary it was as well... He could admire that, he decided. "You live today, Rumpel. I don't know about Tuesday, we'll just have to find out."

And she left. Simply left and closed the passageway behind her. For a moment, Rumpelstiltskin sat there in silence and considered giving her a head start before calling his witches, but he changed his mind. He could wait for Tuesday after all.

"So you two met again... right?"Fiona said softly after a few moments.

"Lotsa times," he confirmed, squinting into the rising sun as it peeked over the horizon. "We didn't plan for it... least not always. She had a knack for tracking me down wherever I was and show up. Sometimes it was for just a few minutes to insult me or gloat about her latest stunt to make me look a fool... sometimes we'd skip past that and just talk about whatever over drinks to change it up for a few hours."

"Friends and enemies."

"Contradictions," he nodded with a stunted yawn. Oftentimes he wondered if maybe she was his only friend.

"And in all that time... you never told her about me?" For a second it sounded almost like an accusation until he looked up and saw that her eyes held only sincere curiosity.

"One time – I did," Rumpelstiltskin admitted with some reluctance.

"Well?"

"Well... I ...well... I was drunk," he began and tried hard to ignore Fiona's widening grin and raised brow. The details were hazy and fuzzy around the edges and that night was particularly humiliating, but she wasn't making it any easier. "See... that was actually the first time I saw her at night. Went out once to hit The Poisoned Apple – old times yeah? So I was just y'know, having a good time and throwing them back. Threw back too many... whatever. On my way back, I stopped the carriage 'cause I had to piss. Stumbled through the woods for a bit and guess who was there, waiting to ambush me?"

"She caught you with your pants down!" Fiona giggled without any restraint and despite his slight embarrassment, he didn't mind it. She looked good right then; her eyes bright with laughter, the sun gracing her hair. He only wished he could have made his own Fiona laugh like this more often.

"It was... uh... it was a bit awkward," he agreed as he recalled with some trouble the bark of a tree beneath his hand, Fiona's tap on his shoulder, the shout of surprise and the resulting cursing as piss got all over his shoes. "Can't remember what all she said or what I said only that she called off the whole thing 'cause I made her laugh. Anyway, the subject came up – no idea how – only that I told her about this world. How she had the two point five kids and a picket fence with a dog or whatever. I think I said it to piss her off or somethin'. Not sure."

"What did she say to that?"

"That I had too much to drink and how they should put 'you should be this tall to enter' signs at bars," Rumpelstiltskin shrugged and was rewarded with another peal of laughter. "Nah... she didn't believe me. I was drunk offa my ass. Couldn't even walk straight. She had to carry me back over her shoulder and dumped me on the floor in front of the carriage while my guard of witches were off trying to find me. I was pretty ticked the morning after."

They shared a moment of comfortable silence as they watched the skies brighten and the last of the purpling clouds streak off and fade into soft golds and pinks before Fiona slowly put away all the evidence of his early breakfast. Sometime during the night, her hair had come undone and flowed just as wild as he remembered over her shoulders. It used to fall with such a beautiful grace, casting her face in shadow when she bent to press her lips at his temple whenever she was in a more amorous mood... He hoped she never let her hair down with Shrek; he couldn't possibly appreciate the simple beauty of it anyway.

"You've got a... a look on your face," Fiona said suddenly and he blinked back into focus. "What are you thinking about?"

Rumpelstiltskin worried his lip with a frown and not for the first time, considered just answering truthfully to her probing questions about himself. It's not like it'd change anything; he'll still be locked in this cage and she'll still be living out the days of her ever after. "Thinking about how I like it when you put your hair down for me."

"Oh, I do it for you?" Fiona ran her hands through her hair with a sly smile and with a few well practiced flicks of hair, it was tied back again. Back to being 'Shrek's wife'. "Whatever happened to... how did you say it... 'there wasn't anything attractive or interesting about me before you ruined my life'?"

"I was wrong," Rumpelstiltskin admitted casually. "Geez, you can't take a compliment either?" Fiona only bit back her smile with a shrug. "Alright... now get outta here so I can catch a few winks." She had to leave before he forgets she has a husband. Before he forgets he never was meant to be in her life in the first place. "See you tonight?"

"Maybe. Goodnight Rumple... or uh ... good morning? You know what I mean."

He waved her off and watched as she made her way back to the door before leaning back against the bars, suddenly more cheerful then he was a few hours ago and not as sleepy as he thought. You just can't sleep when the sun's screaming right in your face. Can't rest when you've got cold steel digging in your spine. The only thing you can do is dream when you have a woman on your mind and that's never a good thing in Rumpelstiltskin's case.

Good morning? Right... what a fucking contradiction.

A/N: The update for this next chapter will be a little longer than usual as well. I'm about halfway through the other story I'm working on (it's called Exit Clause so check it out if haven't already) so I'll update that first before I'll get started with the next chapter. Thanks for reading!