CHAPTER 3

Storybrooke, Maine The Jail

"Your attorney's here," Sheriff Swan called to her lone prisoner. Swan grabbed the keys from her desk and moved to open the cell door. "Remember your promise, Gold?" she asked him. He nodded. "That go for her too?" she jerked her thumb at the woman who was busy setting down a large take-out bag and briefcase on the table.

"Yes," he agreed, "but I can represent myself." Nevertheless, he stood up and approached the cell's door, cradling something between his hands. His Dolce and Gabbana coat and tie lay crumpled and abandoned on the cot.

Setting the keys back on her desk, Emma Swan added aloud, "I'm going to grab some lunch. I'll be back in an hour. I'm trusting you both."

Without his cane, Gold limped heavily to the table and sat down. His attorney removed her yellow coat and laid it carefully across the back of her chair. When she opened the bag, his nose twitched in anticipation of the aroma of stew, and his stomach growled in appreciation. Reluctantly, he cautiously set the chipped cup on the table and eased himself down onto one of the chairs.

His attorney smiled at his growling belly. "You've brought an appetite. I've brought lunch." She set a Styrofoam bowl in front of him. She unwrapped the fragrant slices of bread and set out two tall glasses of tea. Taking one slice of bread for herself, she sat across from him and began pulling papers from her briefcase.

Gold closed his eyes in pleasure with the first warm spoonful of the rich, hearty stew. Then his eyes jerked open and looked intently at the woman again. A flood of memories inundated his mind, and he was nearly moved to tears as he remembered her true self. "Lucy?" The involuntary whisper left his lips.

"Hmm, no, but you're close," she told him. She gave him her professional smile. "I'm sorry. I should have introduced myself. I'm the public defender, Linda Cucurbita." She reached a hand across the table to shake his. "So, tell me, Mr. Gold, why did you try to kill Moe French?"

Stifling an ironic laugh, Gold replied, "So that's what I'm charged with? Attempted murder?"

"Well, that's what French's lawyer is pushing," she answered, "but I think I could get him to lessen the charges." Sitting this close to him, she could feel her heart thumping irrationally in her breast, so she took a deep breath. "First, I want to know why you did it." She fixed a penetrating eye on him.

Gold looked her straight in the eye. "He broke into my home and stole my property."

"Which you got back," she countered. I thought as much. He's going to parse every sentence to make sure he doesn't tell a lie; he might be deceitful, never telling the whole truth, but he isn't going to tell an outright lie. "So why, then, did you kidnap and beat him?"

"Most of it," he retorted. "I got most of my property back. The most important item was still missing." His eyes betrayed his coveted secret when he glanced down at the cup. The involuntary action made no mistaking that the ratty little cup was a greatly cherished possession. Surprising, she saw pure love in his gaze.

"So, you beat him senseless over a chipped cup?" She sat back up in her chair. "I don't believe that. There's more to the story than that." Suddenly, she reached across the table for the cup. Although she was inspecting it carefully, she didn't miss his flinch or the tightening of his mouth. He didn't like her touching that cup. Oh, no, not one little bit. "What's so special about this cup?" she asked.

Anxiety was drawn tightly across his face, but he had his emotions under control now and didn't show his hand. He simply refused to answer, and he waited as patiently as possible until the attorney put the cup back down on the table. As soon as she did, he reached for it, their fingers touching in his haste. When he lifted his gaze from the cup, he saw her shrewd blue eyes assessing him.

"Who was she?" she asked softly.

Winter - A Small Town near the Enchanted Forest

The evening meal finished, Milah and Gerta still fussing with the packing, and Rumple's spinning wheel whirred softly, a constant and gentle rhythm as Lucy read aloud to them from a book of tales. When again the door blew open, a bitter, icy wind and thicker flakes rushed inward along with two strangers. Rumple stood from his spinning wheel and spoke a welcome to the newcomers, who stood in the doorway of his home as if they owned the place.

Rumple made a half-bow to his late visitors. "Can I be of service?" he asked, courteously, expecting late customers at best and early wedding guests at worse. Once the identity of his evening caller was known, he winced with trepidation. Clearing his throat and hoping his voice didn't betray the sudden fear as his heart leapt into his throat, he timidly asked, "Sheriff Piperson, is there a problem?"

Tom Piperson's booming voice rang out strongly. "I'd say there is, Rump." Sheriff Piperson was an honest man, and he spoke plainly. He motioned to the other man. "Mr. Behr here has sworn out a complaint against your sister-in-law."

Milah moved swiftly and wrapped her arms around Gerta's shoulder.

"And, and what, uh, is his complaint?" Rumple asked, his voice trembled with terror.

"Simple theft," Sheriff Piperson answered. "I've been investigating a series of burglary in the new forest community. Mr. Behr claims to have seen your sister-in-law in his home. When he, his wife, and son returned home last night, she was found asleep in their home," Sheriff Piperson answered. "Before they could take hold of her, she fled through the window. He identified her by her golden braids and yellow cloak, which," he pointed to Gerta's cloak by the door, "I see there."

Rumplestiltskin did not know what to do. The marriage contract had been signed, and it could not be broken. The young lord was insistent, demanding his dowry if not his bride. He could not send Lucy to this man in Gerta's place as both Milah and Juan had demanded last week when they fixed the wedding date. Neither groom nor Milah cared which twin was the bride as long as Juan got his gold and Milah got Rumple's military commission. Gerta would have to pay for her crimes, and she would by marrying to the foreign man. A daring plan began to form in his mind. "But he didn't see her face?" asked Rumple.

"What do you mean, Spinner?" shouted the bear of a man. "Are you calling me a liar?" He took an angry step towards Rumple, his hands balled into fists. "We saw her with our own eyes!"

"No, no, I wouldn't call you a liar. I'm sure you saw someone, yes," Rumple agreed quietly, "but which one?" Pointing to Gerta and Lucy, he bowed slightly to the large, angry man.

The twins, alike as two peas in a pod, moved together. There was no way to tell them apart.