Chapter 24
Mayor's mansion, 6 pm
With a flick of her wrist, Regina uses her magic to open the front door of her home. They may have taken her title and her job from her, but they have yet to make a move to take this house; she has made certain they never will, erecting powerful wards that will defend her house, whatever they try to do to it.
On Regina's arm hangs her gardening basket, and in that basket is—she chuckles just thinking about it—something more valuable than all the antiques in Gold's shop. Come to think of it, probably more valuable than all of Gold's assets put together. For in this basket are the magic beans that will take her, Henry and Cora to a new life, leaving everyone else far behind—and bitterly disappointed that their plans to return to the Enchanted Forest have been permanently thwarted.
In Regina's basket lies something more precious than gold: hope.
She opens her safe (hidden where no one would think to look: behind the refrigerator) and removes its contents: stocks and bonds, a pile of ready cash, a sack of gold coins, some jewelry and Henry's adoption papers. She locks the basket away instead. Most of these items which she considered so important that she had to keep them hidden will probably be left behind. Probably, only the coins and the jewelry will have any use in the new world. She worked hard to amass the wealth that the contents of her safe represent, but she'll walk away from it without regret, because she has true wealth that will transfer over to the new land, a fortune that no one can rob from her: her magic. And she has her strength, her cleverness, her beauty, and the love of her mother and her son.
She shakes her head, driving out negative thoughts. Yes, damn it, he's still her son and he still loves her, just as much as he did when he spoke his second word, "Mama" (the first word had no meaning because it was "Dada" and Henry had no Dada). He needs her just as much as he did when, at age nine, he had to have his tonsils out and she slept on the hospital floor so that if he awoke in the night he wouldn't be alone. He's hers in every way that matters, and the Charmings and the Golds can take their biological connection to him and shove it up their tight asses because she's his Mommy.
When the basket is safely locked away, she scoops up the safe's now exiled contents and dumps all but the coins and the jewels into a desk drawer. From her hall closet she takes two suitcases—something hard to come by in Storybrooke, since no one can leave town—and she zips the coins and jewels into one. The other suitcase she carries upstairs to Henry's room. Although with her magic she could easily produce anything Henry needs in the new world, she believes he will be more comfortable adjusting to his new life if he has some of his favorite things from the old life.
And unlike Emma or Snow or David, Regina knows what those things are: she can sort through an entire closet of toys and books and pick out which ones he loves, which ones he never cared about.
She's excited now. There's nothing and no one here she will miss. She can't wait to start her new life.
Granny's B & B, Room 7, 6:15 pm
Ruby has tucked Belle into bed. As she closes the door behind her, she bites her lip. "This isn't like her. Honest; she never drinks anything stronger than tea."
Slightly slips a comforting arm around her shoulders. "I believe you. I think we should let Archie know. . . and Gold."
"Oh, I don't know. . . ." she objects. "Archie, yeah, but. . . you haven't seen Gold's temper in action. He's likely to leap out of his hospital bed and come roarin' down the street in his hospital gown. He'll smash every glass and bottle in that bar to smithereens."
Slightly snickers at image. "But he's the closest she has to family, right?"
Red shrugs. "She has a father but—"
"Let me guess: it's complicated. Like every other relationship in this town." He draws her attention to the take-out bag in his other hand. "How about if, for tonight, we make it simple: finish our dinner, watch a little TV."
Red sighs in relief. "I'd like that. I have an apartment on the third floor, with a kitchenette. I'll pop our dinners in the oven to warm. We have a video library in the lobby, if you'd like to go down and pick out a movie?"
He passes the bag to her. "Sounds like a plan. Meet you upstairs in a few."
"Room A."
He trots down the stairs, finds the DVD library and grabs four movies he likes, so that Red can make the final selection. His stomach is growling as he trots back up the stairs—until, on the landing of the second floor, he spies something disturbing. With an inward groan he realizes his simple evening has just gotten very complicated. He runs upstairs for a moment to explain to Red why their date will have to wait.
Storybrooke General Room 304, 6:50 pm
The banishment really won't resolve anything. It's not a vision that tells him that; it's just something he's learned over the centuries. You can never escape your fate, no matter how far and fast you run, and Regina is Snow's fate (and vice versa). The banishment will separate them for a time, but Fate will find an excuse to bring them back together—all of them. Even those who choose to remain behind when the prince leads his followers back to the old world, they will somehow be brought along, or the prince's plans will fall through and no one will return to the Enchanted Forest. It will be this way because it has to be this way: these people must keep fighting and fighting each other until Good has destroyed Evil or vice versa. . . . until one side or the other is undone.
Rumplestiltskin is included in that circle. When others talk about going back, or anything else to do with the future, he disengages. The Fates are undefeatable. The best you can hope for is that while the Fates are moving you around their chessboard, you can achieve a few goals of your own.
Gold glances at his phone: the visiting hours are approaching. Tonight he will tell Bae what happened to Milah. If, after that, Bae walks out, never to return, so be it; Gold will not try to manipulate him. If this reunion is to hold, it must be by the will of both men. It's a practical decision: Hook is out there somewhere, and when the pirate learns that the Crocodile is still alive, he may strike next at Bae. Telling the truth is also an act of love. If it turns out to be the last act of love that Bae accepts from his father, so be it.
It will be the bravest thing Rumple has ever done, more difficult even than finding Bae. He wishes Belle were here to shore him up. If this is the end, at least Rumple has accomplished the most important of his goals: Bae will leave knowing his father has always loved him.
"Hey, Dad, how you feelin'?"
Despite what he's about to do, Gold grins; he'll never grow tired of Bae's voice. But his grin freezes, for Bae's not alone: there's a young woman on his arm. He can see in her eyes she's lovely and intelligent and caring—
Just not caring about Bae.
"This is Tamara, my fiancée. Tam, this is my dad, Rumplestiltskin."
Oh. So Bae's told her, then. He wonders just how much. . . and whether that was a good idea. Bae is beaming as Tamara approaches the hospital bed and holds her hand out for Gold to shake. Tamara is beaming too.
When he touches her hand, he knows she's not who she claims to be. Underneath her perfume he detects another scent, the odor of her blood: she's human, yes, but her blood is tinged with an ancient smell of treacle—the scent of fairy blood. But that scent isn't pure either: mixed with it is the scent of sulfur—the scent of the blood of all who practice the dark arts. Her heritage, then, is definitely of one of the old worlds; her lineage, a bizarre blend of human, fairy and sorcerer. It befuddles him: fairies do not reproduce, and even if they did, they certainly wouldn't choose a human or sorcerer as a mate. Not willingly, anyway. And sorcerers rarely wed, for a human has little to offer that the sorcerer couldn't obtain for himself. Cora had been one of the exceptions, but then, she had become a sorcerer after she had already determined to marry Prince Henry.
For a sorcerer to marry for love—to even experience love—was even rarer. Rumplestiltskin could count on one hand the mages who had fallen in love. . . And thinking of this made him all the angrier at Hook for what the pirate had done to him through his attack on Belle.
He holds Tamara's hand just a moment longer than she's comfortable with: he sees a flash of—not annoyance, but worry in her face as she pulls away. That interests him: what has she to worry about? Even more interesting is what he detected in her hands. Although she herself possesses no magic, her fingertips are tinged with it: she's been handling magic, somehow; fairy magic and dark magic.
The only magic this girl hasn't handled is True Love.
He must look dismayed and worried too, because now Tamara has stepped back, as though startled by him, and Bae is scowling. Gold has no idea how he will broach this subject with Bae, but broach it he must, and as soon as possible. I used magic to find out that your girlfriend is lying to you about everything, including her feelings for you. What part of that sentence wouldn't freak Bae out? More importantly, who's Bae going to believe, his fiancée, upon whom he depends; or his father the Dark One?
Gold's going to need help on this, someone Bae trusts. And quick, because if she's not here for love, she's just received a whole lot of very dangerous information that should have been kept from her. The Milah discussion will have to wait until this threat—whatever it is—is over. Gold can't risk driving Bae away before he's had a chance to warn him about Tamara.
Gold slides on his poker face, though he may have already tipped his hand to Tamara. "Hello, Tamara. Welcome to Storybrooke."
She launches into the niceties, for Bae's sake, not Gold's: she and Gold both realize they already have the measure of each other. So whatever she's up to, Bae's clueless about it. Like father, like son, Gold thinks; when it comes to romance, they've both been blind. Ah, but if only Bae could have met Belle, could have seen what True Love looks like. . . .
They talk politely for a few minutes, then Tamara makes up some excuse and sweeps Bae away. As she pulls him from the hospital room, Bae glances back at his father and shrugs in helpless apology. If she's smart—and Gold thinks she is—she won't allow Bae to visit the hospital again without her. She probably screens his phone calls and text messages too. Well, Gold can always fall back on magic if he has to, but it will have to be done in a way that Bae won't suspect.
Gold sinks into himself. Chances are, Bae's about to be crushed. Chances are, Gold's about to lose his son again. And chances are, Tamara's got evil up her sleeve.
In the parking lot, Bae seizes her arm. "What's the rush? You hardly said hello to him. And I was gonna ask him to show you some magic so you'd believe me about this place."
"Magic. Really," Tamara huffs. "It's time to let that joke go, Neal." She climbs into the driver's seat of her car.
He slides into the passenger seat. "But we were there barely ten minutes!"
"He gives me the creeps." She slams the transmission into Drive.
"What? What did he say that upset you? I'll make him apologize."
"It's not what he said." Because of course Gold had been nothing but polite. "It's the way he looked at me, like he wants me to disappear or something." She shudders. "It's his eyes."
Bae runs a hand through his hair. "His eyes? What's wrong with his eyes?" But she's pulling out into traffic so she doesn't answer. "Most people like his eyes." He's tempted to add most people say my eyes are just like his. He rolls down his window and watches the buildings pass by. "How do I make him change his eyes?"
Mayor's mansion, 7:30 pm
Regina has the very valid excuse of searching the Charmings' apartment, so after bringing Cora a lovely dinner, the queen ducks out on the remaining 90 minutes of the allowed visiting period. Cora claims to be disappointed, but her frown is fake. In truth, the two women realize that if their plan succeeds, they and Henry will be all the society each other has, until they've established themselves in their new land, and their relationship is already strained. A small break is welcome.
Cora has plenty to do anyway. Regina has brought her some books "appropriated" from the pawnshop: Rumple's so busy with his son, he'll never miss them. Cora will make a list of realms suitable for their new home, and the two mothers together will make the final selection.
Meanwhile, Regina is searching for the compass, the one that rightfully belongs to Cora. She's heard that Snow and David are honeymooning at the inn, Emma's on duty, and Henry's being babysat by Granny. Seems his usual babysitter, Red, already had a babysitting job: the drunken Lacey. Regina giggles: if she hadn't been so busy, she would have popped over to the Rabbit Hole and got a few photos for future blackmail opportunities. Oh well, there will be more opportunities tomorrow, and more salacious: Storybrooke has yet to make Lacey's acquaintance.
Regina has two hours before Emma comes home. She enjoys a good long snoop: she hasn't investigated this apartment since Snow and Emma's return from the Enchanted Forest. It's awfully crowded, now that David's moved in. Regina relishes the fact that when this chore is done, she will be going back to her four-bedroom, three bath with hot tub and swimming pool in the back.
She will be going back all alone to her four-bedroom, three-bath.
How did all her plans fall apart so fast?
Storybrooke General Room 304, 8:00 pm
Gold's head is bent over a book and his hair hides his face. As Slightly enters the room, having ascertained that he's not interrupting other visitors, he can see the bed is covered in playing cards, fanned out in groups of five: each group represents a complete poker hand. Slightly tilts his head to see the title of the book Gold is studying.
He approaches the bed, but Gold doesn't look up. He has to call out to the patient, and that worries him a bit.
"Oh, Mr. Slightly." Gold sets the book aside. "Please." He gestures to the empty chair.
Slightly takes the seat. "You remember my name. Considering everything that was going on when we met, I'm impressed."
"Don't be. It's, uh, a necessary skill in my line of work."
Slightly indicates the cards. "Learning poker?"
"Got a game at 10 o'clock."
"You're going to learn poker in one night? There are dozens of different types of poker."
Gold shrugs. "Poker is a game of strategy, is it not? My strategy is to convince my opponents I'm a naïve novice and lose big to them tonight. Then when they invite me back next week, I'll have memorized this book and I'll clean their clocks."
"Ah." Slightly glances toward the hallway. "You expecting any other visitors tonight, Mr. G.?"
He now has Gold's full attention. "No. Is there something you wish to discuss?"
Slightly gets up to close the door, then comes back and pulls the chair closer before he sits down, leaning forward and lowering his voice. "It's about Tamara."
Gold's features freeze. Yes, Gold will be a winning poker player, Slightly surmises; he has no idea what Gold's thinking right now. "Go on."
"Petey's been my friend for almost two hundred years," he begins. "We've fought side by side in more battles than I can count. He's saved my life a time or two."
Gold nods. He understands that Slightly feels the need to establish his loyalty to Bae because he's about to betray Bae. That gives Slightly and Gold something in common. "What do you have, Mr. Slightly?"
He folds and unfolds his hands nervously. "I was at the inn a few minutes ago. I saw Tamara go into one of the rooms." He glances up at Gold. "She's playin' him, Mr. G. There was a man there waiting for her. He grabbed her and kissed her, and believe me, it was no long-lost-pal kiss."
Gold watches him closely, seeing how this revelation pains him. With a slow nod, the pawnbroker makes a decision; he's going to do something he hasn't done in a very, very long time, not since his days with Cora: he's going to willingly share information. "She's not what she purports to be. Her heritage isn't of this world. And more troublesome, she's not a mage, but she's been handling magic."
"What are we going to do about her?" Slightly squirms. "And how do we break it to Petey?"
Here is something else that's new, and Gold's hesitant to accept it; he turned his back on trust a long time ago. But he sees that Slightly is sincere—and for the first time since becoming the Dark One, Gold has an offer of help that comes without price. His Scottish accent thickens. "You're with me then, Mr. Slightly? An alliance?"
Slightly jumps up to check the hallway. Assured of their privacy, he returns to his seat and his voice drops even lower than before. "In the interest of full disclosure, Mr. Gold, I need to tell you who sent me here, and why."
Gold doesn't bat an eyelash. Oh yes, Slightly thinks, he'll make a fine poker player, once he's learned the rules.
"Perhaps you could do something to make certain we're not interrupted?" Slightly suggests, and Gold summons some magic—he's not up to full strength yet, which is the only reason he's allowed Whale to keep him shut up in this breeding ground for germs. A sound barrier isn't difficult, though—but as he conjures it, he abruptly stops because his sinuses are irritated. Nothing in nature has ever disturbed Gold's sinuses, but magic has. When magic isn't strong enough or fresh enough for him to smell it, nevertheless it will irritate his sinuses, making his nose tingle and his eyes burn, and right now his nose is tingling. He orders his own powers to ascertain the location of the intruding magic: he finds it quickly enough—the mage had made no attempt to hide it, probably assuming that in his condition he'd never detect it.
Wrapped around the handle of a basket of daisies is a red ribbon, and attached to the red ribbon is a shiny little mirror. Ah, yes, mirror magic. Traditional Regina.
Annoyed, he crushes the mirror, then casts the sound barrier spell. "Proceed, Mr. Slightly."
Slightly sits back in his chair, comfortable now. "I'd like to start with a story, one that I hope will win your trust."
Gold's lips twitch into a smile. "That will be some story. I have a lot of practice when it comes to doubting what I hear."
"Once upon a time," Slightly begins, "there was a young woman whom the Fates had chosen to break a terrible curse. Anyone who knew her would have thought, however, that she was destined for prison, and in fact, that's where she spent her eighteenth year. While in prison she gave birth to a child, and not being in a position to care for him, she gave him up for adoption. It so happened that in a small town three thousand miles away, a man was searching for an adoptable child, to fulfill the wishes of a lonely ex-queen." He paused a moment. "Did you ever wonder, Mr. Gold, why the curse gave you two professions, one of which this town, given the time lock placed on it, had little use for?"
When Gold nods once, Slightly continues, "The fact is, it didn't. The curse made you a pawnbroker. My boss made you a lawyer, but not so you could draw up leases and loan agreements and the like. She made you a lawyer for one reason only."
"Henry."
"Henry. So you could bring Henry to town, because, as you suspected, Henry has a big job ahead of him, and he needs Storybrooke—all of the residents of Storybrooke, from the ex-queen on down to Leroy—to help raise him. Every one of you has a weapon to add to his arsenal and values to add to his character. Every one. You call his mother a savior—well, just wait until Henry reaches manhood. You ain't seen nothin' yet. Just as you've suspected, your role is to teach him magic—but there are certain qualities of character that are just as important that he'll learn from you."
Gold's poker face cracks and he grunts, "Character? Me?"
"The quality that kept you searching for your son for two hundred years is one of the qualities he's going to need to lead his people. So, Mr. Gold, my boss wove her plans intricately around your own and Regina's, and here we are, our plans unfolding nicely. Or were, until a woman bumped into a man and spilled coffee on him. And now we're all in a hell of a lot of trouble. Mr. Gold, you have to stop your daughter-in-law-to-be and her lover."
Gold scowls. "Who isn't Bae."
"Who isn't Bae," Slightly agrees.
"Who is he, then?"
"I don't know, but as Henry would say, 'Something bad.' And so is she. Those beans you were going to use to send Cora and Regina away—"
"Oh, so you were the bearer of the bugged flowers." Gold's mouth narrows.
"Nope, we don't go in for electronics much. I got the intel from my boss, who happened to be listening at the time. Actually, she's been listening to you a lot over the years."
"Because of Henry."
"Yeah, and because of you. See, she aims to make you a convert." Slightly spreads his hands. "Winning the Dark One over, that's a pretty impressive feat, right? It'd make a lot of doubters think twice."
"Dearie, I'm an old, old soul. Not much I believe in any more."
"No, sir," Slightly says firmly, "you're already a believer; she just wants you to admit it and come work on our team. She's got one of our star players pitching to you. You've been swingin' and missin' so far, but one of these days, you'll hit it out of the park. Anyway, as I was saying, you can't send Regina away: she's needed for Team Henry. But you've got to send Tamara and her beau away. Bae's gonna hate you for a little while, but it has to be done. I'm here to put all the resources of my employer at your disposal, up to the final disposition. I'm afraid for that you'll be on your own."
"Who is your employer?" But there's a knowing look in Gold's eyes that suggests he didn't really need to ask.
"Someone you haven't met, but she's been observing your centuries-old search for Bae with great interest. The strength of your devotion to your son—she admires it. You might say she's a fan."
Gold mutters, remembering something he once told Charming: "I'm a fan of True Love."
"That's my boss," Slightly says with pride. "I work for Love."