A/N: Okay, just in case any of you think that Regina and Gold are being uncharacteristically restrained…

The rating is being upped to M from this chapter. Not sure it warrants an M at this stage, but as I have no desire to be booted off FanFiction I thought I'd better, just to be safe.

Coming up: Regina is – her usual self (yay!), Belle and Gold are reunited, in a manner of speaking (double yay!) and Belle lets Alex log into the library computer (Hmmm).

Greg and Tamara waited for silence to fall in the corridor outside their room, before turning to one another as much as their bindings would permit. The room they were in had shelves and benches on three of its walls, and the two prisoners had been left in sitting positions on two benches adjacent to one another. The ropes that Regina had cast had been left on them even while locked in the small room, which had previously been used for storage and still smelt faintly of rum and cheese. The fragrance of meals past was doing nothing for their growling stomachs, but they had managed to maintain their silence despite their hunger. Tamara had whispered to Greg that neither David nor Mary Margaret would let them starve, and they had therefore held out stoically against hours of repetitive questioning, each growl of their stomachs like a triumphant blow against the enemy.

"I think, next time, you should pretend to faint," whispered Greg. Tamara grinned.

"They didn't even search us," she said softly, eyes glinting. "But just in case, I dropped my phone while they were taking us through the forest. There's no way they'll be able to find the camp."

"My phone's gone too," Greg said, in a satisfied manner. "That little thief had it in her hand, and then we were distracted by Henry disappearing. They're flying blind."

"So, we just need to get out of here," mused Tamara. "Do you remember how to get to the camp?"

Greg nodded. "I was keeping a close eye out," he said. "As soon as we get off this ship we can make it there in a day or so." He smiled at her. "We just need to convince them that we know nothing and that they'll have to let us go. It's either that or kill us, and somehow I don't think Prince Charming and his lovely wife are quite up to that."

Tamara frowned. "It's Regina and Gold I worry about," she said. "If either of them decides to take charge, we could be…" She cut off as the lock rattled and the door swung open.

"Well, hello there." Regina leant against the doorframe, dressed from head to toe in figure-hugging black. "I think it's about time we three had a nice, long chat." Red lips stretched wide as she smiled unpleasantly, and Greg could not help swallowing as his heart thumped painfully.

Gold drew the blade across his palm, wincing slightly as the skin sprang apart and blood flowed onto the Mirror's surface in fat, crimson drops which disappeared as quickly as they fell. Replacing the knife in his pocket he moved his uncut palm over the surface of the other hand, healing himself. He gestured to the air and the Mirror floated upwards and hung in front of him, suspended by magic.

"Show me Belle," he said quietly. The surface of the Mirror shimmered bright blue and silver, a picture forming from the ripples of light. The tense expression on his face relaxed into a tender smile as he saw her sleeping, a curl of hair dark against her pale cheek, one arm above the blankets of the bed, on her usual side. The sight of her in his bed made his smile widen; he had been afraid that she would have returned to her own apartment. He gazed at her for a moment, filling his head with her image, her full lips curving slightly upwards at the corners as she breathed deeply. He almost reached out to touch her before recalling that she was, at present, just a picture, a reflection. He guessed that the Mirror had used the full-length free-standing mirror in the bedroom to make the connection, and was thankful that it was night in Storybrooke. It meant that they could communicate.

"Belle?" he called, and she twitched and sighed in her sleep, making him smile again. He called her name once more.

"Wha…?" she murmured sleepily, her eyes opening. Upon seeing him, they widened in shock and she pushed herself up on her forearms, scrambling out of bed to stand before him. Her eyes looked puffy; she had clearly been crying before she fell asleep, and his heart ached for her, despite his being somewhat distracted by her appearance. The white silk nightdress she wore clung and hinted at the curves beneath, and he wanted desperately to reach through the Mirror and hold her.

"Rumple?" she said breathlessly. "How – am I dreaming? How can you be here?"

"We found a magic Mirror that lets one see whatever one wishes, for a brief time," he explained. "I don't know how long we have." He smiled, drinking her in. "I just had to see you."

She sighed happily, stretching a little, and his eyes moved over her hungrily.

"I was dreaming about you," she said sleepily. He grinned.

"I hope it was pleasant."

She gave a low, throaty chuckle that made his mouth go dry. "It was more than pleasant," she said teasingly. "I just want you to come home and finish what you started."

He laughed too, desperate to touch her, to taste her. "You have no idea how much I want that." He tried to keep the sadness from his face, and hoped that he had managed it. Her smile had dipped a fraction. She looked him over.

"You're in leathers again," she giggled, raising an eyebrow. "Was that just for me?"

"I do requests, milady," he smirked, spreading his arms, and she pursed her lips.

"Then I request that you bring home that outfit," she said with a grin. "Just be aware that you won't be leaving the house in it." She blushed as she said it, and he laughed softly.

"Where are you?" she asked curiously, moving closer to the mirror.

"Neverland. We're trying to find Henry, but it's slow work. There are certain obstacles we need to consider." He decided not to mention their problems with the prisoners, but eyed her, concerned. "How did it go with you, with the spell?"

"We did it!" said Belle proudly. "All according to your instructions, misleading as they were." She frowned at him fondly, and he smiled again. "I think the town's safe. No-one's tried to kill us, anyway." She looked excited, eyes gleaming, her skin almost luminous in the pale blue moonlight shining through the window. So beautiful.

"Did it hurt?" he asked gently, and a myriad of expressions flickered over her face.

"It hurt," she admitted. "It hurt so much I don't know how you stand it."

"It hurt you because your soul is pure," he said softly. "It doesn't hurt me, Belle."

She gave him a tender look, and opened her mouth. He cut her off before she could tell him anything about his soul, that it wasn't all darkness, that there was light and goodness in him, or something else he didn't believe.

"How is the rest of the town holding up?" he asked.

Belle shook her head, dark curls bouncing. "Never mind that, if we don't have long," she said, smiling. "How are you?" She took another step forward, close enough to touch, if they had truly been in the same room.

"Well, I haven't killed Hook yet, so that's progress," he said dryly, and Belle giggled, before a sober expression returned to her face.

"I miss you," she said quietly.

"And I you," he said, his voice soft. She sighed, and they reached out, each brushing the cheek of the other in the image before them with a finger.

"We can do that for real once you've rescued Henry," she said confidently. He sighed.

"I don't know how to get back," he said gently. "I may never get back, Belle." He tried to keep the bleakness from his voice, but she heard it anyway.

"What do you mean?" she asked. "And don't give me any more of that 'the boy is my undoing' crap. Tell me what you mean. Have you foreseen something?"

He grimaced. "Not exactly," he admitted. "I told you about the prophecy, and I just feel…" He cut off with a sigh. "Belle, I'd rather not discuss this now. I just wanted to see you."

She frowned, not willing to drop the subject, and he sighed again. "Time moves differently here, but I'll try to get in touch again tomorrow," he said gently, and her expression softened.

"I wish you could touch me now," she whispered, and he smiled widely.

"As do I, you look absolutely delicious!"

She giggled again, the laughter dying almost as quickly as it had come. "Just find him, Rumple," she begged, eyes pleading. "Find him and come home to me!"

"As soon as I can," he said, hoping the sadness would not show in his face. She seemed to sense his mood, and reached for him again. They pressed their foreheads against the glass, imagining that there was nothing between them.

"I love you," she whispered, and he swallowed hard, his eyes burning.

"I love you too, sweetheart," he said softly, and raised his head just as her picture faded into waves of blue and silver light once more. He hung his head, breathing deeply, calming himself, before taking the Mirror and setting it once more upon the floor.

"Well, well, how touching!" drawled a voice from behind him. Gold set his jaw, turning slowly to see Hook lounging against the doorframe.

"Goodnight kisses for your dear Belle?" asked the pirate, mockingly. "You know, I have to hand it to you, she looks a pleasant armful, especially in that – bedroom attire. Perhaps I'll put in a late night call, too. Maybe she'll put on a show, if I ask nicely." He smirked, waggling his eyebrows provocatively. Swallowing his anger, Gold turned on his heel to walk away, but Hook pursued him.

"So, man to man," he said confidentially. "Have you actually – done the deed, the two of you?" He was grinning, his eyes glinting with amusement.

"A gentleman never speaks of these things," said Gold dryly. "But then, I suppose you wouldn't know about that." He turned back to face the pirate, holding up a curious finger. "Or perhaps you simply have a death wish."

"You won't kill me," scoffed Hook. "You already told me I get to live, and from what I hear you always keep your word."

"I did say you could live," acknowledged Gold, with a shrug. "I just didn't specify for how long, or how many of your limbs you'd get to keep." His smile was more of a grimace, but Hook seemed undeterred. He leant forward, eyebrows twitching tauntingly. Gold contemplated beating the pirate to a bloody pulp with his cane, and idly wondered whether healing him afterwards would allow the Charmings to forgive his brutality.

"Wonder how long she'll wait for you before she decides she needs some company?" Hook mused, stroking his chin. "Young girl like that. Pretty." His hands made cupping motions. "Ripe," he added lasciviously, teeth gleaming. "Only a matter of time, I expect."

"Here's an idea," said Gold, his voice deceptively soft, his smile wide. "How about I don't hear any opinion from you on Belle ever again?" He raised his cane, Hook eyeing it warily. "Or I'll take your tongue, along with that shrivelled thread between your legs that you think makes you a man, and shove the whole lot up your - "

"Problem, gentlemen?" interrupted David, striding into the room with fists on hips.

"Not as far as I'm concerned," said Gold quietly. "It would be easy as…" He smiled, gesturing expansively. "Well, you really wouldn't want to find out how easy it is."

Hook glared at him, then turned on his heel and strode off, slamming the door of his cabin behind him. David sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Is this how it's going to be with you two from now on?" he asked wearily. Gold shrugged.

"It's a step forward from trying to kill each other, isn't it?" he said.

David sighed again, running a hand over his head and making the light gleam in gold flecks on his short hair. "Look, we need to work together to get Henry out of here," he said sternly. "I don't care what's between the two of you. I don't care that he knocked me out. All I care about is getting my grandson back. And for that, I need his help. So, can we set the passive-aggressive crap to one side until then?"

Gold smiled, the warmth not reaching his eyes. "Whatever you say," he offered.

David nodded curtly and turned to go back up on deck. Gold scowled after him and heard Emma chuckle softly from outside the room.

"Look, I know Hook's an ass, but try not to let him get under your skin," she said, amused, leaning against the doorframe. "I find a knee to the crotch works wonders."

"You are, of course, a little more agile than myself, dearie," he said waspishly, and she grinned.

"I'm going to bed," she announced. "Night, Gold." She sauntered off down to the cabin she had been assigned with Regina, and he stood there brooding for a minute or so before the sound of her footsteps made him turn.

"Have you seen Regina?" asked Emma, and he shook his head.

"She was the first to leave, wasn't she?" he asked, and she frowned, a suspicious light in her eyes, her mouth set in a thin line.

"Stay here," she snapped, and he lifted his eyebrows in amusement as she looked through the other rooms, then sprinted up the stairs to the main deck. He smirked at her as she returned, running fingers through her blonde hair distractedly, David following in her wake.

"Well?"

"She's nowhere to be seen," said Emma bluntly. She raised her eyes to his, her face hard. "That means she's with the prisoners."

Gold cursed softly under his breath as she shoved past him and strode towards the stairs to the lower deck.

Regina walked into the musty storeroom as though it were her throne room, hips swinging, grin widening. The smiles had fallen from the faces of the prisoners, and they exchanged worried looks.

"Now," she said pleasantly, lifting a hand. Purple fire danced around her clenched fist. "I understand that you're not being particularly cooperative. I'm sure you want to change that, don't you?"

Tamara jerked in her bonds as she attempted to kick out at Regina, and the other woman laughed aloud and gestured towards her, making Tamara fly back against the wall and bang her head painfully against the wooden slats.

"I don't think so, my dear," drawled Regina, and turned her dark eyes on Greg. "Now, Owen, or whatever you're calling yourself these days. Let's see how people like you deal with magic when you don't have me strapped down and helpless." She raised her hand, unwinding the ropes securing Greg to the wooden bench and levitating him in front of her. Their eyes met, Greg's staring into hers, dark with hatred and disgust. She curled her lip.

"This is for Henry," she said coldly, and used the magic to fling him to the floor. Greg grunted in pain as the breath was knocked from his lungs, and cried out as Regina began to rain blows all over his body with the power of her magic.

"Stop it!" yelled Tamara, her eyes bulging. "Help! Anyone!"

Regina flicked a hand at her contemptuously, and Tamara was instantly struck dumb, her mouth working around an invisible gag. Greg was writhing on the floor in his bonds, his face already bruised, blood trickling from his mouth. He felt a crack and a terrible pain to his side, and dimly thought that she had broken one of his ribs. Darkness was crowding in on his vision and threatening to take him, when he saw the door open behind Regina.

Emma gasped as she witnessed the scene in front of them; Greg was bloodied and semi-conscious as he was subjected to a rain of blows from Regina, and Tamara was staring at them pop-eyed with an expression of outrage. Gold grimaced and waved his hands, binding Regina's arms to her sides and cutting off her magic. She shouted in rage and struggled, turning to face them with fury in her eyes as Emma grabbed one arm and David took the other, pulling her into the corridor and tossing the key to Gold, who shut the storeroom door behind him as they dragged Regina towards the stairs.

"I have to make them talk!" she yelled, struggling. "You know they won't respond to anything else, Gold! You know I'm right!"

"Get her out of here!" snapped Gold, and David and Emma hauled Regina with them up to the main quarters. Gold watched them go, then smiled to himself as he turned back to the door.

Belle sat up with a start, the last remnants of sleep fleeing from her as she recalled her conversation with Rumple the previous night. She smiled. He was alive, and as long as he was alive, she knew she could get him back. That wouldn't stop her worrying about him, though; she knew desperation when she saw it. She knew what a forlorn hope was; the gods knew she had seen enough of it in the Ogre Wars. Men with nothing to lose threw themselves into battle with no thought for their own safety. Such men took potions from hedge-witches and became berserkers, impossible to stop short of decapitation or disembowelment. Or being torn limb from limb. She was very afraid that he had taken it into his head that this was a suicide mission and that he had nothing to lose.

She showered leisurely and changed, before heading over to Ruby's. Despite the early hour the taller woman was already sweeping the front steps of the diner, clad in leather pants and a tight black T-shirt. She beamed at Belle.

"Iced tea, on the house?" she asked, and Belle smiled tiredly, following her inside.

"I spoke to Rumple," she said quietly, as Ruby busied herself with the drink. Ruby almost spilled the tea, glancing hurriedly around the empty diner as she leant on the bar.

"What?" she whispered. Belle stirred her tea with a straw.

"Last night," she explained, and launched into the story about the Mirror. Ruby listened, open-mouthed.

"So, I'm scared that he's planning something stupid," finished Belle. "That he doesn't think he's going to make it." She sighed, drawing pictures in the condensation that had run down her cold glass and spread in a tiny wet pool across the bar. Ruby clutched her hand, fingers wrapping around Belle's and squeezing comfortingly.

"What can we do?" she asked, and Belle frowned, thinking.

"I need to find a way to get to him," she said, decidedly. "He can't ignore my feelings if I'm standing in front of him."

"Belle…" began Ruby, her expression doubtful, and Belle nodded impatiently.

"I know, I know, he was looking for centuries and couldn't do it without a curse," she said shortly. "But there's magic here now. Perhaps that makes all the difference. I'll hit the books." She took a long slurp of her iced tea. "What's the situation with our new guest?"

Ruby pulled a face. "Not up yet," she said quietly. "What the hell are we going to do with him? If the phones were out yesterday, my guess is they're still out. The spell would have made it impossible for anyone from the outside to find us, including by phone."

Belle shrugged. "Maybe we can drug him and throw him back over the line somewhere," she suggested, not entirely flippantly. Ruby gave her a flat look.

"We'll need to do something soon," she said darkly. "I dread to think what Spencer's suggestion might be."

Belle frowned. That was certainly something to cause concern. The man didn't deserve to die for being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Alex left Granny's bed and breakfast and stuffed his hands in the pockets of his orange vest against the increasingly cold wind. The telephones were still not working, and Ruby had suggested that perhaps he try email. He had obtained directions to the library, but found upon reaching the building, which he noticed was beneath a clock tower, that the doors were locked shut. He pulled on the door handle ineffectually, frowning.

"Librarian not there?" Alex jumped and turned at the sound of a man's voice behind him. He noticed a large, bearded man who he had seen the previous day in Granny's diner. The man wore a strange red and gold tunic over baggy trousers tucked into heavy boots, huge arms folded across his chest. He was frowning at Alex a little suspiciously, but that seemed to be the default expression for everyone in this town.

"I need to use the computers," explained Alex. "Internet. To get a ride home. The phones are still down."

The big man nodded stiffly. "Try Mr Gold's pawn shop," he offered. "If she's not here, she'll be there."

"Thank you." Alex looked down the street where the man pointed, and walked swiftly away, feeling eyes in the back of his head.

Belle sighed as she stacked the book she had been leafing through to the side and took up another. The laptop screen in front of her already contained around thirty pages of spells, their uses, and where they could be found in Gold's extensive collection. She rubbed her eyes tiredly, and opened the book in her hands, flicking to the contents page. She had spent the past day beginning to catalogue the collection of spellbooks, and although she had found numerous incantations to provide healing, track animals, clean dirty clothing, and calm a distressed child, she had yet to find any that taught her how to jump to another realm. Clearly this was why it had taken Rumple three centuries, she thought sourly. She was satisfied with the cataloguing, though. He might know his books back to front and seemed not to require them for his own magic in any event, but if the town was to survive without him for a while she would need to do her best to provide a replacement. She had set up a database on her laptop with a search facility keyed to various words in the different spells, so that she could pull up different spells by tapping in the relevant terms. All in all, she was quite pleased with herself. She had thought computers something made of magic themselves when she had first got her memories back and been introduced to Storybrooke, but just as with everything, there were books (or rather, online blogs and prompts) that she could read to find her way around them. She vaguely heard the shop doorbell ringing, but paid it no mind. Head buried in her research, she hurriedly tapped out a reference to a spell to knit broken bones together, and flipped the page of her book.

"Erm…" said Alex, awkwardly. Belle jumped and slammed the lid of the laptop shut, clutching at her chest. "I'm sorry," he added hastily. "I didn't mean to startle you. I mean – the bell rang, and I assumed…"

"It's okay," she said, more calmly than she felt. She smiled up at him. "What can I do for you?"

"Are you the librarian?" he asked and she nodded with a grin.

"I am. I'm looking after Mr Gold's shop while he's away, and I'd forgotten the time." She stood, stretching. "How can I help you?"

"I need to get internet access," he explained, taking off his glasses to polish a light fog from them. "Phones are still down, and Ruby suggested…"

"Of course," she agreed, grabbing her purse. "Let me lock up."

He stepped back into the shop, and ran his eyes over the various treasures on the shop's shelves as he was waiting for her to gather her things.

"The man's a real hoarder, huh?" he remarked, and Belle smiled fondly.

"He likes to collect interesting and beautiful things," she confirmed, and he nodded, raising a curious eyebrow.

"Like you?"

She frowned, putting her hands on her hips, and he held up his hands in a placating gesture.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean any offence. I heard you were together, that's all."

"We are," she said stiffly, feeling faintly aggrieved at the townsfolk gossiping about her private life in front of a stranger. "Follow me. I'll get you logged on."

She locked the shop behind them and walked at a pace swift enough to make him trot to keep up. The library, when they entered, was cool and pleasant, and smelt of books and wood polish. Belle led him to a small alcove at the back with a lone computer and desk. She turned it on and used her password to log in.

"Facilities are a bit sparse at the moment," she said apologetically. "We were supposed to open months ago but I – had an accident, so technically you're the first visitor. I had this grand opening planned, but – well, never mind." She sighed briefly. He was watching her curiously, and she seemed to shake off her despondent mood. "Would you like to borrow any books while you're here?" she asked. "Because if so we'll need to issue you with a card and get you on the system."

"I don't – I'll ask you if I do," he said, and she nodded.

"If you need anything I'll be out front," she said, with a brief smile, and left him to it. Alex looked at the waiting internet search engine, and grinned to himself.

"What the hell were you thinking?" snapped Emma, rounding on Regina. Emma's eyes were flashing blue-grey, the colour of approaching storm clouds, and the older woman was breathing heavily, her expression mutinous. Her arms were now free of the spell Gold had cast, and she planted fists on her hips, her jaw lifted defiantly. Emma took a deep breath. "Why, Regina? Why after everything? Every time I think you've turned a corner you do something like this!"

"Like what?" Regina's voice was curt and unfeeling, her lip curled in a sneer. "I did what I had to do to find my son – our son, if you insist. Your – parents – couldn't drag information out of a well-paid informant!"

Emma shook with anger. "This isn't what we decided. You were there. You…"

"What you decided," corrected Regina, her eyes snapping. "I don't recall being asked for my agreement or my opinion. And what you decided wielded nothing. We're exactly where we were when we brought them aboard."

Emma opened her mouth angrily, then bit back the words that were dancing on the tip of her tongue. If she was completely honest with herself, a small part of her agreed with Regina. An even smaller, darker part of her wanted to beat the crap out of Tamara without even questioning her, and she was a little disgusted with herself. "Fine," she said acidly. "Can I trust you to stay away from them, or do I need to get Gold to restrain you?"

Regina's eyes bulged slightly in outrage. "Oh, so suddenly, he's the white knight in all of this?" She was breathing heavily, eyes flashing with indignation.

"He hasn't been torturing the prisoners the minute my back's turned," snapped Emma. "And he's done what we asked of him without question, so, yeah Regina, at this point in time, he's more trustworthy than you!" She span on her heel and strode towards the doorway.

"I wasn't always like this." The break in her voice made Emma stop and turn. Regina was staring at her hands, running her thumb over the ring finger of her left hand repeatedly. Her breath was coming rapidly, but deeply, as though she was trying desperately to calm herself. "I was – kind, good. Even after losing my true love, Daniel – even after he was killed." She sighed, looking at the floor, before raising pain-filled eyes to Emma's. "You want to know how I became like I am? Gold." Her voice was flat and emotionless. "He found me. He changed me. He manipulated me into being the person I am. He brought magic to me and darkened my soul, for his own purposes. Without that, I might have been happy. We all might have been."

Emma took a deep breath. "I know some of the things he's done," she said, her voice a little calmer. Regina opened her mouth furiously, and Emma lifted her hands, palms outward. "Not all of it, obviously, and I'm guessing I don't want to. But Neal told me some, and Henry told me more." She gave Regina a level look. "He's the Dark One. I get it. But even if he taught you magic, even if he taught you dark spells, the choice was yours to cast them. You had options, Regina, every step of the way, and you chose wrong."

Regina dashed her hand against her eyes, swallowing hard as she briefly raised her gaze to the ceiling, as though hoping to find support there. "Why do you think he's so interested in you?" she demanded. "If you think he wants to train you out of concern for your – abilities – you're crazy. I've seen that look in his eyes. I saw it when he looked at me. He sees a tool he can use, someone he can manipulate into doing what he wants." She leaned closer to Emma, her words slow and insistent. "He never gives anything away without a price." She straightened up, tossing her head back. "Keep that in mind the next time he offers to teach you something, Miss Swan, and ask yourself, what's in it for him?"

Gold waited until he heard a door slam on the upper deck, and he was confident of not being disturbed for a while. Deciding that a little more authority was needed at this stage of the proceedings, he waved his hand and replaced his brown leathers with black leather pants that were so tight it looked as though he had been poured into them, with long boots, a tight-fitted black leather waistcoat and a shirt in deep red silk the shade of fresh blood, open at the neck. He thought the colour appropriate. He wore a black fitted tailcoat over the top with a high collar, which looked as though it was made from dragon-skin. He was surprised at how comfortable the familiar clothes made him, the feeling of power that came from being impeccably attired. It had been a form of power with which he had been well acquainted even while under the curse. Straightening the cuffs of his shirt, and smirking to himself, he pulled open the door of the storeroom, and walked slowly inside.

A/N: Uh-oh! It's not looking good for the prisoners...

Coming up: Gold explains a few things to Greg and Tamara, Lily opens up to Mary Margaret, and Belle has a nightmare.

Hope you enjoyed, show me some love if so x