Chapter 50

This chapter was inspired by Malarkay and her phone call idea. Thanks, Malarkay! And Hey Nonny Mouse, the conclusion, which I expect in a chapter or two, will be for you. . . .Geesh, and I thought I had my plans well under wraps! Here's hoping you'll still find a surprise or two.

At Belle's request, Doc sneaks in to the convent to provide the Golds "a little check-up before we start on our world cruise." When Doc reveals what's in his medical bag, Gold realizes he's been set up. He yelps and his eyes dart for the exit, where Bernie stands casually, blocking the only way out of the library. Well, there is the window. . . .

"Roll up your sleeve."

"What for?" But Gold already suspects.

"Oh, Rumple." Belle removes his cuff link and rolls the sleeve up.

With a sterile wipe, Doc scrubs at Gold's upper arm. "This won't hurt a bit."

"What won't hurt?" Gold squirms on the couch as Doc reaches into the medical bag. "If you think you're going to jab me with that elephant hypodermic you're hiding in there–"

"Mr. Gold, some of the countries you're planning to visit require up-to-date immunizations. No shots, no entry. Worse than that, they'll put you in a detention cell until they can kick you out."

"I'm not waiting for you either," Belle warns. "If you get stopped at entry because you refused to take some shots, I'm going on without you. You want to spend your honeymoon alone?"

"But is this really necessary? Can't you put it in a pill or a nice glass of Johnnie Walker Blue?"

Doc holds one of his hypodermics up to the sunlight. "No, you don't have to take these immunizations. You can stand on the dock and wave goodbye to your wife for the next twelve months." He taps the needle. "Of course, there is another way: I could inject you in the ass."

"You do and we'll both find out how far down your throat my cane can reach."

"Let me talk to him," Belle scowls. She presses a hand against his chest and whispers something in his ear. His mouth drops open and he studies her a moment, then surmises, "You're not kidding. Are you?" When she winks at him in reply, he waves his hand. "Proceed, Doctor. You have my full cooperation." He doesn't budge but he does screech as the needle pierces his skin. He cooperates as promised, but he never said he wouldn't yelp or cuss up a storm.

Ten minutes later, and Gold has limped off to the rest room to inspect his wounds, Doc asks, "I got to know. What did you say to him?"

"I promised him, if he took the shots without griping, I'd buy him ice cream."

"Ice cream." Doc sounds skeptical. "Isn't that on his no-no list?"

"Well, for me to eat, not him."

"Not following you."

"It's not so much the eating of the ice cream. It's where the ice cream will be when I'm eating it."

"Oh?. . . . Oooh!"

Gold had prepared a little goodbye speech for this moment; he figured it was expected of him. But in the early morning fog, as he counts the cars parked on the lawn (tearing up the landscaping on his property because the convent's driveway can't accommodate all these vehicles; he'll have to get the landscapers out here to fix that but he doesn't mind too much) he can't find his tongue so he merely nods in greeting as the drivers step out of their carriages. The Nesmiths. The Dolenzes. Ruby and Archie (ooh, holding hands now. Shame Belle won't be here to see that relationship develop). Regina's ex-maid, Marian Nottingham (but not her philandering ex-husband, from whom Gold recently won child support). Jefferson and Grace–the silly rabbits, they're both wearing silk top hats. Doc Miner and Tom Clark (the pharmacist is losing his best prophylactic customer). Moe, here to bid his daughter bon voyage. The new business owners whose dreams were kick-started by Treadle. The former staff of La Tandoor. The library staff. Marco (but not August, who's a CUSSer). Belle's book club, Bae's Little League parents, Dove's mechanic friends. With all these people knowing where Emma had Gold stashed away, how did word never leak out to SBTV, the Mirror, Sidney?

Gold's hand becomes sore from all the handshakes. His shoulders hurt from all the hugs. He can't find Belle among the throng of goodbye kissers.

At nine o'clock Charming's F150 arrives, squeezing between Emma's Bug and Gold's Caddy. Charming lifts his wife down (Gold still finds it bizarre to see the queen of the Enchanted Forest riding shotgun in a Ford with a dented fender and a Culture Club bumper sticker. Seems dark magic has a sense of humor.). Emma lays on the Bug's horn until everyone pipes down. "Well!" Snow stands on the convent porch to address the crowd. She frowns at Emma: this isn't at all what was supposed to happen, this motley circus parade of the blue collars, the pink collars, the white peter pan collars of the nuns. This is a joke against the solemn administration of justice, an insult to the dignity of government.

Worse, this could become a riot. Spencer and Glass may have expected trouble; perhaps that's why they stayed home. Gold can't imagine that they don't know where he's been kept.

Snow casts her eyes nervously about and David searches for signs of guns. The royal guard, except for Sneezy and Doc, join the royal couple on the porch: their presence makes a statement that nobody had better start anything or else. Her face impassive, Emma trots up the stairs to stand behind her mother. She carries no gun and once again, she hasn't cuffed Gold. In fact, the pawnbroker, dressed in a Polo shirt and jeans (but neatly pressed jeans), is resting comfortably against his car door; his bride, in a yellow sundress, is seated on the Caddy's hood. As if this is some Fourth of July picnic they're off to. There's even a picnic basket in the Caddy's back seat, compliments of Fran.

Sitting on the hood of the Bug is Henry.

No, this isn't at all how a banishment ceremony should go.

Snow shortens her speech. She expresses regret that it has to go this way, but the fact that a villain may have reformed, may even have performed some heroic deeds, doesn't mean there isn't a price to be paid for his crimes. The crowd, previously instructed by the sheriff to behave–and threatened by Ruby with unspecified punishment if they didn't–lets Snow talk uninterrupted. Then everyone piles back into their vehicles and heads for the border. Dove drives the Caddy for what may be the last time, not as a servant doing a job but as a friend doing a favor.

At the border Snow reminds Gold of the terms of the sentence; she is confident that he will honor it, as he has done all his contracts. She and her husband shake Belle's hand, then Gold's, and wish them a safe journey. Charming lifts his wife back into the pickup and they, along with the dwarfs, drive back to town.

More hugs, handshakes. Most of the Friends of Rumplestiltskin wait at the border as Gold takes the wheel and rolls the Caddy across the orange line. Waves and shouts of good luck, see you soon. But two cars follow the Caddy out of town: the Bug, with Emma doing her duty as both a sheriff and a friend, Henry in the back seat and Bae in the front; and the Yukon, with Dove and Fran.

The Bug and the Yukon follow the Caddy over the Skye Bridge and into Bell's Corners. The three families overwhelm the little town's highway motel, taking all four of its vacant rooms; word spreads quickly across the village that Gold paid for the rooms with a Centurion credit card and that he asked for the number of a real estate agent.

"Well," says the desk clerk, "that would be Arminta–Mayor Bell. You'll find her at City Hall. That's the second floor, above the bait and tackle shop."

"Sounds like they've got their priorities straight. I think I'm going to like it here," Gold remarks.

A week passes. The Golds are in no hurry to move on, nor the Dove-Baguette family to return to Storybrooke. Emma and Henry must leave after the second day because Henry has school, but they promise to Skype often. Henry complains: he wants to stay here and go fishing.

That's how business is done in Bell's Corners. Gold and Mayor Bell talk a little business and a lot of fishing as they sit in her boat on the Lake of Three Fires. They haggle just enough to make the conversation interesting, then they settle on a price and get back to topics that really matter, like whether the local white perch are more active in the mornings or evenings. When they return to town at lunchtime, they have a mess of perch, huge appetites and a deal for a parcel of undeveloped land at the edge of Plockton Woods.

As they join their spouses in the town's only diner, the mayor and Gold surrender their catch to the cook and are paid in meatloaf. The waitress/owner of the diner (she also directs community theater) brings him a bottle of ketchup without being asked and when he pays the check, she gifts him with a jar of her homemade sweet pickles. He's going to like it here.

The visitors and the mayor relax at their table long after lunch is finished and the dishes cleared. The owner sits down with them, joining in on the conversation, swapping recipes with Fran. Townsfolk drop in throughout the afternoon to meet the new residents. Everybody's got a fishing tip; nobody's intrusively curious. Nobody's in a rush and nobody tries to sell Gold anything. No one raises an eyebrow when he gives his name as Rumple Gold (maybe "Rumple" isn't weird in a town populated by Arminta and Ebenezer Bell, Persimmon Plockton, and Mapleleaf Harvey).

The mayor talks more about fishing and her grandkids than about politics or commerce; Belle points out later that by doing so, she's taught them what they really need to know about Bell's Corners, about what's important here. Belle's eyes sparkle as she crawls into the motel bed. "I want our babies to grow up here, Rumple."

"What if the locals find out about us?"

"That we're exiles?"

"About the Enchanted Forest. Who we were there, what I did there."

"You're not that man any more." Belle fluffs her pillows. "And if you were to tell them you were the Dark One, they'd probably laugh and their kids would call you Old Man Gold, that half-crazy rich guy who lives on the hill."

His razor pauses in mid-stroke. "I don't know. . . ."

"It's not as if they're going to catch you starting the grill with fireballs. That part of our lives is over. We've told them we're newlyweds looking for a quiet place to settle down and raise a family. That's the truth. What happened in the past is no longer the truth."

Thinking, he finishes his shave, then joins Belle in bed. "How much will we tell our kids?"

"Everything. A little at a time, I guess. Archie will help us figure it out."

"We shouldn't tell them until they're adults. It's a massive secret to keep, too big a burden for children." He flattens his pillows.

"If we wait until they're adults, they'll never believe us. Only kids have imagination enough to believe their father was once the most powerful sorcerer in the world."

"Exactly." Gold grins. "That way, we're being honest with them without having to pay the penalty for it."

She smacks him with a pillow.

Gold glances up as Belle, wrapped in a towel, comes into the bedroom from the steamy bath. Her cheeks are red and her hair hangs loose and damp. He thinks she looks delicious. He forgets about his sore feet, earned the hard way in tramping the streets of Casablanca; to make room on the bed for Belle, he kicks aside the trinkets he's bought, earned the fun way through dickering. The street vendors of Morocco now lock up their stalls when they see him coming. Ah, but if they only knew with whom they would have had the pleasure of negotiating.

"What are you looking at?" She plops onto the bed beside him and leans over his shoulder to peer at his Ipad.

"Video from Henry." Gold chuckles. "That kid's got a dark streak." He restarts the video. They recognize the counter at Granny's, with Ruby, Granny, David, Glass and Leroy gathered round, watching a small television. Henry grins into his Smartphone camera: "Hey Grandpa, hey Belle. Look! You're on Good Morning, Storybrooke." He turns the phone to the television.

As photos that Belle took flash on the screen, Goldie Locksley dimples for her audience. "And here's today's Gold Standard Report. GMS catches up with the Golds in the Mediterranean. After a month's stay in Italy, where the Golds visited Venice and Rome, they boarded the Queen Elizabeth and set sail for a two-week cruise to Greece, Crete, Croatia and Turkey. Henry Mills shared these lovely photos taken by his step-grandmama. Aren't those Greek beaches beautiful? Henry also shared with us his grandfather and step-grandmother's plans."

Henry's earnest face appears on the screen. "'They're just going with the flow, wherever the wind blows. They're going to see Great Britain, of course; Grandpa's looking into renting a castle in Scotland for the summer. Belle wants to see some shows at the Globe and tour Jane Austen's House. And of course Grandpa told me the Dark One has to visit the Tower of London as professional courtesy—but then he said, 'Just a quip, not serious!' Really, it's Harrod's he wants to see. The management there promised him a private tour whenever it's convenient for him.'"

The GMS camera returns to Goldie. "At the present time, the Golds plan to summer in Great Britain, then spend the fall in Japan and China. They will winter in Australasia. They expect to conclude their world tour with an exploration of South America, highlights to include, for Belle, a four-day hike along the Inca Trail, and for Gold, soccer matches in Brazil."

"Where the Golds go, GMS follows. Tomorrow on the Gold Standard Report: Casablanca, the real one!"

In the background, Leroy barks at Granny, "Shut that damn thing off, will ya? Or at least change the channel. There's a Honey Boo Boo marathon on."

Henry turns his phone on Glass, who's tossing back a shot; Leroy, who's bitching into his bacon; David, who's shaking his head; then Emma, who grins into Henry's camera and gives a thumbs-up. There's a low, "mwa-ha-ha" laugh as Henry turns the phone around to himself. "And that's the news from Storybrooke, Grampa. Forecast for tomorrow: green. Like with envy. More later, you guys. Hey! When you get to the pyramids and stuff, are you gonna ride a camel? I want to see that. And if they have a gift shop, bring me back a sarcophagus, huh? I mean, like a model, not a real one. Love ya! Bye!"

Belle clicks her tongue. "He lied."

"Well, it was mostly true." Gold defends his grandson.

"He lied. He said that you had a personal invitation from the managers at Harrods."

"Well, okay, so it was the head buyer from the Men's Department that I played shuffleboard with last week. He admired my suits and wanted to get my opinion of a new designer he's buying from. Not really a lie, just a mix-up over job titles."

The warning rumbles in Belle's throat: "Rrrrumplestiltskinnnn."

"Okay, he wasn't the head buyer. He was an assistant."

"Rum—"

"An assistant's assistant." Gold digs around in one of his packages and fishes out a silver necklace; he smiles sheepishly as he offers it in appeasement. "For you, sweetheart."

But Belle won't be bribed. "When we get back, you need to have a talk with Henry about stretching the truth." She shuts off the Ipad. "And about inciting envy. Leroy's a friend of mine, you know, even if he has it in for you."

"The twerp. And after I saved his queen's love life by sending Charming after her—twice. Dwarfs know nothing about gratitude."

"You're four hundred years old. You should be setting an example of maturity and truthfulness for your grandson."

"Three hundred seventy-two. Or seventy-four. I forget. But I have the body of a fifty-year-old man; Doc said so." He nibbles on her earlobe. "And I know how to say 'Does this shop sell condoms' in nine languages."

Master Khan: "In one lifetime a man knows many pleasures: a mother's smile in waking hours, a young woman's intimate, searing touch, and the laughter of grandchildren in the twilight years. To deny these in ourselves is to deny that which makes us one with nature."

A/N. Thank you, everyone, for all your comments and support throughout the months I've been developing this story. Especially, thanks for the thought-provoking and emotion-stirring discussion about the role of punishment in the justice system. For the writers I know, the best reward we can get is to hear a discussion stirred up by some point we've tried to illustrate through a character. And then to give our beloved characters the screen time they deserve but never get, that's the reward for fan fiction.

What drives me to Once and keeps me coming back despite frustrations and disappointments is the question of whether Rumple will reform (I'm completely convinced he can and has come so close to it so many times). And if Rumple does reform, so many more questions arise, so many plot possibilities-he'll never be Prince Charming, but he can be the dark knight, whose alter ego is a reclusive millionaire living in a stately manor full of gadgets (imagine "I'm Batman!" in a Scottish accent). But he has to choose to reform and stay reformed, and I don't think the love of one woman will be enough; I think it will take a village. He will have to be stripped down first, lose his power and his place in society, so that he's forced to reach out to people. Once he does that, I think he'll find, to his amazement, there's a lot of love out there and then he'll choose reformation.

I'm hoping we'll see more stories about Rumple's reformation, trying out different ideas about retribution, revenge, correction, forgiveness and justice. It's a profound question: can broken people be mended? Can people who do evil acts (as opposed to "evil people"–I don't think Rumple is evil) be saved? If you've found "Losing to Win" interesting, probably it's because you find these questions interesting, and I hope you'll explore them in story form too. (And if you work Dove in, too, I'm your devoted fan!)

Coming up: everywhere he goes, he finds magic. Is it addiction or destiny? And the Golds find a surprise waiting at home.