Appendix Two: Emma Swan Visits Mr. Gold

Mr. Gold went for another cup of tea, and poured it into a very nice tea cup—but not the chipped one. That was returned to its display case. And it would stay there. THAT argument he would win with Belle.

He sighed when he heard the doorbell. He really did not wish to be disturbed, but he was expecting a call. He had rung the local department store and asked for an associate to come with everything new and in fashion for a young lady: sizes 6-12.

He sighed, thanking everything sacred that Belle had never been scary-thin. That was the curse of this world. However, they did have a brief 'discussion' on awakening when Belle objected to pictures he showed from his ipad of clothing with pants. He tried to explain, but she would have none of 'dressing like a strumpet.' He started to ask how pants were worse than the cleavage and tight bodices of Fairy Tale Land, but then thought better of it. It would be a pity to be sleeping on the couch so early in their reunion.

No, not just theirs; his too, with his former self. Yet in a strange way he was still the Rumpelstilskin of Fairy Tale Land. The person he was now had merged with the old. He was without his former quailing—the worst kind too—that had stemmed from pride. He had knowledge that running from the war was not his true cowardice, but rather his inability to face his failing and move on. In fact, this morning, he hardly knew himself. Was Belle's good magic infectious, or was this all really due to the presence of Emma bringing about the end? He had been content to play along with Regina and wait until Emma came, having found that this was not the world Bae was in. He sighed. That discussion was going to be difficult: how could he tell her that when they went home, he wanted to stay the Dark One until he found Bae? He had to do it sooner than later. They were too honest the previous night. He would not want to ruin it by not being straightforward with her. But somehow he knew that the first goal was to break the Storybrooke curse, and that must be accelerated.

He would find the right time to tell her.

He sighed, was breaking the Storybrooke curse really going to be as simple as Belle thought? So far he had no cause to doubt her 'Happy Endings Theory.' Except maybe that the Happy Endings had not broken the curse completely. Ella and Thomas' memories were not back. True love's kiss had not broken their curse. He and Belle needed to think it through.

However, one thing that was clear was that he could break the curse since he had helped create it. The pure kiss with Belle in the castle had given her the power—good power—to withstand it, and their kisses the previous night had strengthened both of them. He had his Happy Ending. But then what did Cinderella need? Or others in Storybrooke?

This he had to find out, and that was truly the only reason that, after he let the sales associate in, he did not slam the door in Emma Swan's face. Personal feelings aside, he needed her. She was the child of Snow White.

Emma only showed slight surprise at his casual dress when he opened the door. Pants, and tan shirt with its sleeves rolled up.

"New wardrobe?" Emma asked dryly.

"No, just a wardrobe you've never seen: 'wake-up' clothes; that is: clothes one wears when one wakes up and is not disturbed at unseemly hours." He turned on her and walked to his armchair, sitting and giving her the choice the follow him. "And frankly, dearie, you have not earned the privilege." He sighed, "but the exception comes from exceptional circumstances."

"Are those circumstances anything to do with Belle?" Emma asked.

Mr. Gold shook his head, "Oh, how disappoint. You didn't even try to wait for pleasantries!"

Emma arched one eyebrow, "Really? Really? Are we going to play at this after everything that happened?" She took a step forwards, "I need to know how she is."

"Need to?" Gold's voice rose slightly in pitch, dangerously.

"Yes," Emma answered undeterred, "and if I need to, I will search this whole house!"

Mr. Gold sighed, "Let me give you a lesson in law-something you seem to have little knowledge of."

"Little knowledge," Emma protested. "Hey! YOU were the one who helped me get elected Sherriff!"

"One of the many regrets I have in my life. But now I've turned over a new leaf!"

Emma shook her head, "Oh please!"

Mr. Gold waved his hand dismissively, "Think what you will. For another time. Now a lesson in law: a police officer cannot search without a warrant or without reasonable cause. So unless you have either, you need to leave."

Emma shook her head. "That's a strange way to say 'thank you.'"

"Thank you?" He mused, "Aw, for finding Belle. However, if I recall correctly, you were just repaying a favor." He pointed, "So YOU should be thanking me!"

Emma groaned, "This really isn't getting anywhere is it?"

Mr. Gold smiled, but his eyes were hard, "Trying to interfere with me and Belle? Not an inch."

"I have a right to," Emma insisted.

"No!" Mr. Gold thumped the side of his armchair for emphasis. "No right!" He had dropped all pretense of friendliness.

"If she's been compelled by you to . . ."

"To what?" Gold rose from the chair, grabbing his cane to help. The prop somehow made him the more menacing. Emma had seen what he was capable of doing with that cane.

"Excuse me," a voice made them both pause, "but why don't I speak for myself?"

Both turned to find Belle standing on the bottom step of the stairs, and looking rather annoyed.

"I'm glad to see you're alright," Emma sighed in relief.

"I'm glad to see you are ALRIGHT," Belle answered, her expression as warm as Mr. Gold's was at present.

Emma frowned and looked at Mr. Gold, truly confused now. He only smiled in return and steepled his fingers. "The lady speaks for herself."

"Ok, fine. Whatever is going on here . . ." She stopped and looked Belle up and down, in a white blouse tied with a belt, an ankle length skirt, and her hair tied back in a ribbon. Her eyes then followed her incredulously as she went to sit on the arm of Gold's chair and take hold of his hand. "I'm starting to get a vibe that I may be dealing with T.M.I." Mr. Gold nearly laughed at the rather ugly frown on the Sherriff's face, but he held that impulse in check as Emma continued. "But here," Emma held out a card to Belle, keeping her eyes on Gold. "If I'm wrong, and you need help. Please take this."

Belle didn't look at the card, "I can help myself, thank you."

"But I'll take it," Mr. Gold offered cheerfully. "I've always wanted your cell number." And before Emma could take her hand back, he grabbed the card.

"It's for Belle!" Emma protested.

"And I said I don't want it," Belle looked straight into her eyes.

"It's my job to. .. ."

Belle gestured to Mr. Gold. "To rescue me from my fiancé?"

"Fiancé?" Emma asked incredulously. "Oh," she shook her head in horror. "Oh no!"

Mr. Gold turned to Belle, "We really haven't settled . . ."

"Yes, we have," Belle insisted.

"Well, if you are engaged, then where's your ring?" Emma demanded.

"It's getting fitted!" Belle's eyes were steel.

Emma looked to Mr. Gold exasperated, yet he merely said, "You heard the lady. She speaks for herself." He looked to Belle, "and me, apparently."

Emma shook her head, "I know that there's not much that you won't stoop to, but cradle-robbing?"

Belle sat up like she'd been slapped. "You're being horrid," Belle told her slowly. "I don't like rude behavior. And none of this is truly any of your concern." She leaned forward with mock curiosity. "What's your marital status?"

"Mine?" Emma asked. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Exactly!" Belle sat back triumphantly.

Emma asked her, "Do you know who he is? Have you looked up the words 'women's liberation?'"

"Have you looked up the words 'closed adoption?'" Mr. Gold retorted, "If we're getting personal."

"And looking at you, dearie," Belle emphasized the last word, "you don't seem very liberated. Every part of you has been showing fear since you entered."

Emma's ignored Belle. Her eyes were on fire and focused on Mr. Gold. "That was beyond low." She pointed at him, "this isn't over, and I'll get to the bottom of this."

"I'm sure you will, "Belle answered before Mr. Gold could reply. "When you do, here's my card." She held out her hand and looked to Gold who looked perplexed, eyes questioning.

"Your card," Bella muttered under her breath.

"Aw." He picked up his cane and moved to his desk and, after finding his card, held it out to Emma.

"That's your card, not hers," Emma protested.

Mr. Gold shrugged, "We're something of a team."

Emma refused to take it. "I'll talk to you later," Emma said to Belle and turned towards the door.

"Good day," Belle called.

Mr. Gold chuckled and he sat with something of an effort as Belle moved to sit in his lap, taking the teacup from him for a sip. "I fear I have been a bad influence on you!"

Belle sniffed, "What an unpleasant woman. Who does she think she is?"

"The sheriff?" Gold suggested. Belle smirked and rolled her eyes. Mr. Gold continued, "Why were you so short with Miss Swan? We need her!"

"I meant what I said," Belle answered. "I don't tolerate rude behavior. And nobody speaks for me. Except you." She took his hand, "And we've given each other permission to do so. You were right. We are together with this, we always have been. Being the key to breaking the curse doesn't mean I have to give her involuntarily what is only between you and me."

"But you do want to break the curse, don't you?" Mr. Gold asked.

"Of course," Belle replied. "But I see more and more that maybe everyone here"—she poked him—"including you, have given this 'curse' a little too much power. Did you see her? Maybe if everyone wasn't cowering and crying like a bunch of babies every time the Queen looked cross-eyed at them, she would never have gotten this far. Did anyone ever think of just saying 'no' to her?"

"It's not so simple, Belle." He chided quietly.

"Truly?" She leaned into his face, eyes locking with his, "Truly?" she repeated.

"Not everyone is like you," Mr. Gold said quietly.

"I'm not so special," Belle contradicted.

"I would strongly disagree."

"No different!" She poked him again. "All I did was speak for myself and do what is right. Not what I was told was right by desperate people."

"Aw, but what is right?" Mr. Gold asked.

"Have you not read the philosophers? About it being written on the human heart?"

Mr. Gold squirmed just a little, with a touch of mockery. "Well I have been rather busy. My deals cut into my reading schedule."

"A situation that will be remedied when we get home," Belle informed him, but pondered. "I'm not brave. I just decided to act like it."

"And bravery followed…" He smiled.

"Yes!" She exclaimed, "and I order you from now on to ask yourself 'What would I do if I weren't afraid?'"

Mr. Gold softened, but still shook his head. "It cannot be that simple." If it was, what did that say about his character?

"You never know till you try!" Belle grinned like a Cheshire cat. "I told you within a few weeks we could have this over with. If I'm wrong you can . . ." Belle paused, thinking.

"Make a deal," he raised his eyebrows eagerly.

"Yes!" She laughed, "And I am not afraid!"

She sealed that statement with a kiss before she observed. "I bet the Sherriff is already spreading around town every word we said. No secret about us now."

"No secret . . .' Mr. Gold mused, then sat up so suddenly Belle nearly fell off the chair. Then he kissed her quickly and fiercly.

She giggled, "What was that for?"

"For showing me the easiest and best course of action!"

"Which is?" Belle asked.

"Using the proud Sherriff against herself," Gold explained. "Our conversation will be all over town within the hour. It will make possible something I have been wondering how to achieve."

"And that is?" Belle leaned in, eager to hear what he was to say.

"Guaranteeing that people will be dying to meet you!" He pointed his finger toward her face. "Never underestimate curiosity. We wanted to speak to Ella. She will want to meet you now. But we need to visit one more 'talker' first." He got up, and took his cane. "Let's go to breakfast at Granny's. There's a friend of Ella's you need to meet!"

He grabbed her hand with his free one and they left the house.