The Recorder

"Are you going to let me out of here at some point in the near future?" Regina asked from the cell. Emma leaned back in her chair, rested a knee on her ankle, and laced her fingers together, letting them rest by her stomach. "Or am I stuck here for no good reason?"

"You refuse to cooperate with me when it comes to shooting that kid," Emma replied. "I can have you arrested for obstruction of justice."

"I don't remember what happened."

"Jefferson does, and so does the boy's companion, who was also his first responder. Want to hear what they have to say? Maybe that'll jog your memory."

"How dare you?"

Emma uncrossed her legs and leaned toward Regina. "I'm doing my job," she said slowly. She returned to her original position and added, "Pleading insanity hardly ever works, anyway."

Regina narrowed her eyes. "It's because of a deal I made with Rumpelstiltskin that I got stuck down there, anyway. I don't remember much beyond that except you trying to arrest me."

"Call you in for questioning. And someone had to have pulled that fire alarm. The absence of a fire was actually rather suspicious."

"That was Rumpelstiltskin. To distract me so he could get those two wraith-smelling brats to freedom."

"I got a good look at one of those kids after the hospital cleaned him up. Looks a hell of a lot like Rumpelstiltskin's son to me."

"Dammit. How is that brat still alive?"

"The better question is how do you know about him?"

"I told you. I have eyes and ears in this town."

"Specifics. How did you know about him?"

Regina lay her arms on the midbar and leaned against it. "I had Glass do a little digging before I locked him up, ironically in the last place he looked. That little nuisance in the cell next to him managed to mutter something about a son before the meds kicked in."

"So that was how you knew, and what he's doing there."

"He's of no more use to me, anyway."

"So just don't talk to him. There's no reason to lock him up."

"He'll talk. He'll squeal to whoever gives him the chance. I can't take that risk."

"You need a great lawyer, then."

"You're going to charge me?"

"At least."

"What the hell? I have rights, goddammit!"

Emma stood and walked over to the cell door, stopping just inches from Regina's nose. "You're not queen anymore." With that, she turned and walked out of the office.

OUAT

Emma slowed as she passed the pawn shop and made note of the sign: 'Closed'. She swore under her breath and sped up again. She turned one corner and then another. If he wasn't at home, then he was out collecting rent, and she had no idea where he'd be if that were the case. That was the only fluid part of his routine, so far as she had gathered during her time there.

She parked along the side of the paved drive leading to a large, black, red, and gold mansion. "So much for subtlety," she muttered as she turned the engine off. She leaned back in the chair and waited, absently drumming her fingers against the steering wheel.

Emma huffed, climbed out of the car, and marched straight to the mansion's front door. She slammed the side of her fist into the door repeatedly, prompting an entirely unexpected voice from behind her. "Do you really need to break down my front door?" Emma spun one hundred eighty degrees to see Gold standing in the middle of the path, one hand resting on his cane and the other in his pocket. He stared at her in weary disbelief. She opened and closed her mouth several times, and he sighed, rolled his eyes, and walked up to the door. She glanced at his leg and frowned slightly but decided to say nothing.

Gold walked onto the porch, bent over to snatch something from the nearest potted plant, and unlocked the door. "Well," he said, "as long as you're here and didn't break anything, please, come in." Emma walked into the foyer after him.

He led her to a small sitting room at the back of the house. The room was dimly lit, but she got the impression that the walls and carpet were dark red. A chandelier hung from the ceiling, and two chairs were positioned facing each other. Aside from what looked to be an unused fireplace, a table between the two chairs, a few bookcases, and a couch against the wall to her right, there were no other furnishings. Gold took a seat in one of the chairs, leaving the other for her. Out of her pocket, Emma pulled a small device barely the size of a business card. He plucked the device from her hand and pressed a button. A smile spread across his face and remained there as Emma's conversation with Regina was played back to the two people in an otherwise empty room.

The conversation ended, and a soft click came from the device. Gold slipped it into the inside breast pocket of his jacket and leaned back. "You certainly know the right questions to ask, Sheriff Swan."

"Part of my line of work," Emma replied. "Why do you want this recording, anyway?" Gold merely smiled. "Goddammit, will you cut the cryptic messenger crap? I thought we were on the same side here."

"We are, more or less."

"More or less? What the hell does that mean?"

"It means that for right now, yes, we are on the same side."

"What happens when we're done here? You gonna try to kill me? Take Henry?"

Gold's features softened, and he looked down at the carpet. "No," he whispered. "Not Henry."

"Then what?"

Gold met Emma's gaze. "You don't need to help me, you know. I'm not forcing you to, and I have nothing over you. We're even. But yet, here you are." He leaned back and gestured to the room as a whole. "Rather interesting, isn't it?"

"What's your point?"

"You helped me find my son, my favor as per the deal, and he is safe and well. You could turn on me or cut all ties at any point, and yet, you continue to help me. Why?"

"That's what good people do."

Gold paused, and Emma thought she saw something in his eyes, something like shocked understanding, but it was gone before she could be certain. "Well," he said evenly, "I suppose I should let you go home to your family."

"Are you going to?"

"Unless there's something else."

"I don't think so."

Gold stood. "We'll be in touch." Emma followed him out the door, her mind swirling but no clear thoughts emerging to the surface for even a moment.