Chapter Eighty-Eight—"Warnings"

"Papa," Belle said cautiously, gripping the door tightly in her right hand and eyeing the man she had once loved so much. She'd avoided seeing him since the curse broke, because Belle wanted to focus on the family she had, on protecting Bae and getting Rumple back. Belle had known that she would eventually have to face her father, but she'd just wanted to put that day off.

"Belle," Maurice breathed, looking like he hadn't seen her in a lifetime. "Oh, sweetheart, it's good to see you."

Part of Belle just wanted to throw herself into her father's arms, wanted to cry out her worries on his shoulder like she'd once been able to, but she stopped herself. Even if he does look like he expects an embrace, I don't care, she told herself firmly. Her father had almost killed Rumple. Cora might have been the prime mover behind that attack, but Belle knew from personal experience that the weaker the curse got, the more the person underneath came out. Moe French hadn't been the only one at home that day, and Belle was not ready to forget that.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, consciously not inviting him in.

"I came to see you. It's obvious that the beast has abandoned you for—"

"Don't you dare call him that!" Belle cut him off furiously, taking a step forward to poke a finger into her father's broad chest. "You attacked him! You almost killed him! Rumplestiltskin isn't the beast as far as I'm concerned. You've been doing a good job of earning that title for yourself!"

"That was Cora!" her father protested, already red in the face. "She made us do that! Oh, my Belle, you know I'm not the type of man who would do something like that."

Stepping back, Belle crossed her arms and brought her chin up. "No, you're just the type who would send me to the clerics because I married the man I love."

"I only wanted to help you!"

"No, you wanted me to be what you wanted me to be, Papa. And for the record, Rumplestiltskin didn't abandon me. He's a prisoner, and he sacrificed himself to save his family, which is better than you've ever done."

"But you can be free of him now, sweeting. You don't have to stay in this false life he's trapped you in. You can come home," Maurice pleaded.

"What false life are you talking about?" Belle asked incredulously.

"This child. This marriage," her father spat. "None of it is real. You don't have to cling to it, not with him gone. You can come home."

For a long moment, Belle couldn't find her voice. Eventually, she managed to say: "Gabrielle is my daughter. I gave birth to her. And if you call her demonspawn or something like that, I swear by all that's holy that I will never speak to you again."

Her father blinked, looking utterly befuddled. But Belle didn't even feel a flicker of guilt as he said: "You're my daughter, Belle. We're family."

"This is the family I choose. You can live with that, and be a part of it, or you can walk out of my life. Right now," she said. "And if you choose to stick around, and you ever want to meet your granddaughter, you owe my husband an apology."

"Apology—?"

"This guy giving you problems, Belle?" a new voice interjected before she could tell her father exactly what she thought of his opinions. She started; she hadn't seen Bae come up the walk, but now he was on the porch with Maurice and sizing the taller man up warily.

"No. I think he was just leaving."

"Who the blazes are you?" Maurice asked, as surprised by Bae's arrival as she was.

"Baelfire," was the easy response; Bae even stuck out a hand. "Belle's my stepmom, and I'm rather fond of her. You are?"

"Her father!"

Bae glanced at Belle. "He the same guy that beat my father crapless under the curse?"

How had Bae learned that one? Belle certainly hadn't told him; she imagined that Emma must have. But she wasn't going to lie. "Unfortunately."

"You want him here?" Bae asked, looking back at Maurice. Belle's father was a lot bigger than her stepson, but Bae seemed to be the scrappy sort; he looked like he would be good in a fight and tough. That, and Belle knew exactly how much stubbornness he'd inherited from his father, which meant he wasn't exactly the giving in sort. That didn't mean that she wanted to see Bae get in a fight with her father—anything but!—yet she found a bit of perverse pleasure in the fact that there was absolutely no way her father could force her to do anything right now.

I never wanted to have to think like that, Belle thought sadly. Papa was my hero once. I loved him so much, and I trusted him. But then Mother died, and everything changed. Then she had gone with Rumplestiltskin, and Belle had changed in ways her father seemed unable to understand.

She didn't want to think about what might have happened if Bae hadn't come home. Would Maurice have tried to drag her away by force? Back in the old world, that would have been an acceptable action for a father, particularly a lord. Here, however, women had more rights than they did in the Enchanted Forest, and Belle was not going to become some weak-willed girl just because her father didn't like her choices. She hadn't done that back home, and she wouldn't do it in Storybrooke. So, she squared her shoulders.

"He's welcome to stay if he's willing to accept my marriage, and my daughter," she answered Bae, completely ignoring Maurice's little exclamation of displeasure. "Otherwise, he's welcome to leave."

"Belle, darling—"

"Don't," she cut him off. "You didn't like me marrying Rumplestiltskin. Fine. I understand that. But he never enchanted me, and this is my home. With my daughter, my stepson, and—when he gets free—my husband. You can accept that or not. If you don't, it's your loss."

Her voice got a little thick on the last line; Belle really didn't want to cut ties with her father. She'd loved him so much, once, and she had hoped that being in Storybrooke would help them reconnect. Rumplestiltskin looked so much more human in this world, and she'd wondered if that might make accepting him easier for Maurice. Laying out an ultimatum like this made her want to cry, but she was determined to be strong.

"Gabi okay?" Bae asked quietly, probably to distract her.

"She's fine," she whispered.

"You're his son," her father spoke up, looking at Bae like he'd just realized what him being Belle's stepson had to mean.

"Yeah. And like Gabrielle, I'm perfectly human," Bae replied.

"I don't understand."

"I can see that, buddy," Bae said, not entirely unkindly. "So, let me offer you a bit of advice. Go home, do whatever it is you do. Think on this for a while, and decide if you really want to lose your daughter all because you don't like her husband. If you're shallow enough that that's okay with you, just don't come back. If you actually give a damn about her, come back tomorrow."

"You can't tell me what to do!"

"No, but I'm happy to call the sheriff and have her arrest you for trespassing," was the easy answer. "She's an old friend."

Somehow, the threat of the law seemed to work on Maurice, and he stumbled away, almost falling down the front steps while he was at it. Belle wished that he'd say something, that he'd give her a little hope, but he left without a word. She just watched him go from the doorway, wrapping her arms around herself and wishing she didn't feel so cold.

"You all right?"

Blinking, Belle turned to her stepson instead of watching her father drive away. "Mostly," she said honestly. "He didn't like it back home, either. We never told him about Gabrielle."

Bae smiled crookedly. "Pop sometimes has that effect on people."

"No, not this time. This was all my father. Rumple was on his best behavior. He was trying, really trying…for my sake. Papa wasn't."

"His loss." Gently, Bae took her arm, and Belle found herself very glad for the human contact. "Come on. Let's go inside and sing a round of 'Under the Sea' with Gabi. There's nothing a little Disney can't fix, right?"

Belle snorted out a watery laugh. "You say that like you don't know any better."

"Well, I can lie with the best of them," was the grinning response, and they headed into the house.

"This is not quite the realm you promised," Jafar said in his cultured and intelligent way, his dark eyes fastened easily on Cora as they sat across from one another.

Jafar had come to the mansion and Cora had invited him to share tea with her; of all her allies, he was the one that required the most careful handling. Cora knew what Jafar wanted, and she'd always suspected that Jafar would be the first to try to stray. But he had no weak point she could actually exploit, which meant she had to string him along and make him think that Cora could give him what he wanted.

"Nothing is at first," she replied philosophically. "Give it time."

Jafar's eyebrows rose eloquently. "I am only prepared to wait so long. This realm is not the only one available to me, and I am running short of reasons to remain here."

"You've been awake for less than a week, dear," Cora said as lightly as she could. "Surely your patience is not that short?"

"No. It isn't."

"Then what is the problem?" she asked, wishing Jafar would just get to the point, but understanding that the man was more subtle than that.

"I have no wish to be your enemy," he said, leaning back in his chair and watching Cora calmly. "But I have noticed that opportunities to possess power in this town are few and far between. This is your town, and while there would have been ample prospects in the Enchanted Forest, Storybrooke is rather…smaller."

He had a point. Cora had been so concerned with gathering allies and making sure that her power over Storybrooke was absolute that she had not considered the fact that her more powerful allies might be bored. Zelena, of course, would be loyal to Cora so long as her mother showed her affection and approval, but Jafar was cut from a different cloth.

For a moment, Cora contemplated summoning Rumplestiltskin from the other room and having him take Jafar's heart. She had no doubt that she could do it herself, but that would require a messy battle, and Cora preferred not to waste her own energy like that. Rumple could do it without breaking a sweat, and even if he was harmed, well, she could use that to her advantage, too. No, she decided regretfully. Jafar should keep his heart. Cora could only afford to try to control so many puppets; she was already having difficulty juggling them all, even with Zelena's help. She'd delegated controlling Ingrid to her daughter, and if she took Jafar's heart, Cora might just have to hand his over, too, because controlling the Dark One had proved much more time intensive than she had expected.

Suppressing her surge of anger, Cora returned to studying Jafar. He was extremely clever, which was why she'd wanted him on her side in the first place. Worst case, he'd find his genies, and she would then volunteer to be the second sorcerer required for his spell. Worse things could happen. Cora had no particular love for the laws of magic, after all, and the idea of possessing ultimate power like that was certainly tempting. Jafar's dreams were small, after all: he wanted his father to love him, wanted to change his past, and he probably wanted to bring back a dead person or two. Cora, however, wanted much larger things. If allying with Jafar would get them for her, she would do just that.

"Do you have any ideas?" she asked, honestly interested in his opinion.

"Branch out. Your curse didn't strip all the realms of people, did it?"

"No, of course not. I only brought those I felt would be useful or whom I wanted to make suffer."

"Well, then we should co-opt the Hatter immediately, and then choose which worlds should be controlled first," Jafar replied contemplatively. "I would recommend beginning with the small ones: Agrabah, Wonderland, Arendelle, Oz, and perhaps even Neverland—though from what I hear about that world, it is perhaps best we remain clear of it."

"I understand it's a useless little world," she agreed, thinking about how that little librarian and Rumple's brat intended to send her there. I'll have to find a way to deal with her, Cora thought angrily. I can't kill her…but perhaps once Rumple comes back to himself, he'll do the deed for me.

Unfortunately, that was not an immediate solution, and Cora had no choice but to wait on that front . Rumple was growing quieter and quieter lately, rather than embracing the anger she had expected. Still, his withdrawal was the only flaw in the so far perfect execution of her plans, so Cora would have to live with it. And with Jafar's rather predictable chaffing under her rule. She would have to find him something to do, and quickly.

"But I do agree with you on the others," Cora continued as Jafar waited patiently. "Once you take control of the Hatter—and I agree, as we covered yesterday, that it should be done immediately—would you do me the favor of beginning to scout out worlds that would suit you, and perhaps some of the others? I would not have anyone uncomfortable here, or feeling less…able to pursue their own dreams."

Yes, that did the trick. Jafar's eyes gleamed, and she knew that she had him. Jafar might have walked into the room thinking about adopting a neutral pose a la Maleficent, but now he was eager to carve himself out a little world to rule. What he wasn't thinking of, of course, was how Storybrooke had replaced the Enchanted Forest as the center of the 'hub' that all magical realms formed, and that anywhere he ruled would still wind up subservient to her—or cut off from everywhere else. But Jafar was no fool. He would work with her. Cora would make certain of that.

"So, um, I'm going on a date tonight. Sort of," Emma told her parents as Henry grinned into his comic book. Her kid really wasn't helping, but Emma supposed that ten-year-olds existed to make their parents miserable.

If so, Henry's a natural at it!

"A date?" David looked up from where he was creating some sort of marinade to go on chicken—chicken David and Snow probably expected Emma to help eat, come to think of it. "With who?"

"I'm betting Baelfire," her mother said with a smile, leaning on the counter easily.

"How did you—" Emma cut off with a sigh. "Is it that obvious?"

"Well, we have been wondering how long it would take you to tell us that the two of you had been in a relationship before," Snow admitted, and Emma felt a flicker of hope. Maybe they'd already guessed, too. That would make things a lot easier.

"Still, Gold's kid? That's a little…strange, isn't it?" David asked, and Emma fought the urge to groan.

"Oh, come on. Don't turn overprotective father on me now, okay?" she pleaded. "I've already had a kid with the guy. I think I can handle a date."

The moment the words were out of her mouth, and the shocked expressions settled on her parents' faces, Emma knew she shouldn't have blurted it out like that. Guess they didn't guess. Damn.

"A what?" Snow and David yelped together. Henry, of course, snickered.

"Not helping!" she snapped at said child, who just grinned. Then Emma had no choice but to turn back to her parents, smiling sheepishly. "Sorry. When you started talking about how you'd guessed we'd been in a relationship before, I thought for sure you'd figured it out."

"I guessed," Henry supplied, again, not helpfully.

"I thought…you mean that Baelfire is Henry's father?" Snow asked slowly, looking like she'd swallowed a lemon.

"Yeah, though I knew him as Neal Cassidy back then," Emma shrugged. "He never said anything about being from some fairy tale land, that's for sure. I probably would have run away screaming if he had."

Snow's expression melted away into careful blankness. "So, Gold is Henry's grandfather."

"Yeah. The good news is that the contract Gold drew up with Cora keeps Henry safe from her," Emma pointed out, but she could tell that at least David wasn't listening to that one.

"I thought I was Henry's grandfather," her dad muttered, looking befuddled.

Snow put a hand on his arm. "You can have more than one," she said, and Emma could see the slight smile on her mother's face. "After all, you're his father, too."

"Just when I thought our family tree couldn't get any more confusing," David snorted, and then looked over at Emma. "You aren't going out with him because you think you have to, are you, Emma?"

The sudden concern made her blink; was this what it was like having parents? She'd expected blame, or at least something said about the fact that Neal was older than her and Emma hadn't quite been eighteen when Henry was born. Instead, they were worried about her, backing her up, and just being kind of wonderful. Emma wasn't used to having family; this was all so very new to her, and it made her feel strange and warm inside. Only six days had passed since the curse had broken, and they'd all been too busy to share truly quiet moments like this, but for the first time in her life, Emma felt like she really belonged somewhere.

"Emma?" Snow prompted her gently, and she realized abruptly that she'd been lost in her own thoughts.

"No," Emma managed to answer, ignoring the way her cheeks grew heated. "I don't think I have to. I even think I want to."

"Is this where I drop some convenient threats about what happens if he hurts my little girl?" David asked, and despite herself, Emma smiled.

"C'mon," she laughed. "I'm your age, and I'm going to be the only person on this date with a gun. Besides, I hit harder than he does."

"He's hit you before?" Snow demanded, and Emma wanted to smack herself.

"No! Not me," she stuttered, at a loss for words.

"He hit August earlier today," Henry piped up. "It was pretty cool. August deserved it."

Both of her parents went a little wide-eyed at that, and Emma sighed. "Really. August did. He's the reason Cora had Neal—ack, Bae—in the first place, remember?"

Fortunately, Snow and Charming did know that story, so neither tried to argue that August was some innocent victim or another. Someday, maybe Emma would tell them that it was August's fault that she'd gone to jail, or that it had been because of some watches Neal had stolen (and she'd tried to help him fence). But not today. Today, they had enough to swallow learning that they were actually related to Rumple-freaking-stiltskin, and that Emma was going out on a date with the guy who linked their two families together. That thought, however, made Emma remember the entire reason she was going on this date with her ex, and she pulled her phone out. Is he not my ex if I'm dating him again? Emma wondered, and then pushed the thought aside.

Bring the contract, she texted Neal—or Bae, or whatever damn name she was supposed to call him. I want to read it for myself.

The Italian place wasn't half bad, if you discounted the fact that Bae had managed to spill spaghetti sauce on himself pretty much right away. He felt like an idiot, but it made Emma laugh, and well, he'd really missed the way she laughed. He'd missed a lot of things about her, even if he had tried to tell himself that wasn't the case over the years. Yet, somehow they seemed to pick up right where they left off, finishing one another's sentences and even remembering what kinds of food the other hated. Dinner even turned out to be a moderate success, though they left the restaurant before Bae even dared pull the contract out.

For that, they wandered down to the docks, where no one else seemed to want to hang out on a chilly March evening. Sitting down on a bench near a streetlight, Bae gestured Emma into a place at his side, and handed her the contract.

"Hasn't your dad ever heard of a computer?" she complained immediately, but he could see a smile tugging at her lips.

"Magic always comes at a price," he explained. "Papa used to say that to me all the time, but I didn't get it as a kid. Basically, though, if you put work into something—handwriting it instead of typing it—I think that eats up a bit of the price, and makes it more, um, personal."

"One of these days, you're going to explain your really weird life to me," Emma said.

"You mean when things calm down for more than five minutes at a time?" he joked.

"Hey, we managed to have dinner without a disaster happening."

"You had to go and say that, didn't you?" Bae sighed. "Now, when the disaster comes—and I expect it'll show up in about five minutes—you know it's going to be all your fault."

"Oh, shut up." The punch landed on his left shoulder, and Bae yelped theatrically.

"Ow!"

"Baby."

Suddenly, they were laughing together, and it really was like no time at all had passed. Something just clicked between them and always had, going all the way back to the day they'd tried to steal the same car. Maybe they'd both been lost, or maybe they'd just been lonely, but somehow the dynamic still worked when they were ten years older—if not wiser—and they'd both found family they didn't know they had. Could that be enough? Bae didn't know. But they did have important things to do, and they weren't kids anymore. No, now we have a kid of our own to protect, even if we never get back together, he thought, and took a deep breath.

"More reading, less laughing," he said regretfully. "You were right. You do need to know what's in there."

Emma just nodded, reading quickly. "It seems pretty straightforward. You think 'related by marriage' would stretch far enough to protect my parents, too?"

"I think so, and so does Belle," Bae answered.

"You talked to her about this?"

"I had to talk to someone, and she knows my father better than anyone," he shrugged. "Belle's not a sorceress, but she knows an awful lot about magic, and that house is full of books on magic. She looked up a few things, and we're pretty sure it would cover them. Papa has always been the plan ahead sort, and he doesn't leave loopholes like if he doesn't anticipate using them."

"Right," Emma said, handing the contract back. "I…Neal—Bae—this is just a lot to take in. I don't want to get married just because of some contract, but…God, is it too late to go to Tallahassee?"

She looked so torn that it kept his heart from leaping too much, and Bae tried to reply casually. "If it was just you, me, and Henry, I'd say we should get in the car right now. But I think our families would be screwed if we did that."

"Yeah, tell me about it."

I'm not going to press her, he decided. It was important—keeping Emma safe was so important to him—but she had to make this decision in her own time. So, he just accepted the contract back when she offered it, content to sit with her and make small talk, reminiscing about some of the dumber schemes they'd tried to pull in their days of petty crime. Unfortunately, the moment of relative peace was broken when a voice cried:

"Emma!"

Together, they turned to see the owner of Any Given Sundae hurrying their way—the woman whose heart Hook claimed Cora had. I'm pretty sure I'm almost as pissed off at him as I am at August, but at least Hook never claimed not to be a villain, Bae thought, rising warily. At his side, Emma did the same. Ice magic, Bae remembered. That's what Hook said she's got, and she almost froze the old sheriff to death.

"Can I help you?" the current sheriff asked warily.

"I'm sorry to approach you like this," the ice cream lady said hurriedly. "I know you don't remember me, but my name is Ingrid. I was your foster mother, a long time ago."

"I think I would remember that," Emma said, and Bae could suddenly feel the tension radiating off of her.

"You would, except I took your memories with a memory stone," Ingrid replied, looking sad. Then she extended a small blue stone that Emma definitely didn't take. "Here. I shouldn't have taken your memories, but I didn't know what to do. Now, I do, and I have to warn you."

Emma was still staring at the stone like it might bite, so Bae spoke up: "If you're here to tell us that Cora has your heart, you're a bit late. We already know."

Ingrid grimaced. "No, it isn't that." Her eyes zeroed in on Emma. "I tried to dissuade her, but she's determined to hurt you, Emma. You have to leave Storybrooke quickly—tonight, if you can. Otherwise, I fear she'll make me kill you."

"What?" Emma seemed to find her voice, along with her skepticism. "Look, lady, I don't know you—"

"Take the stone and you will."

"No!" Emma looked at her like she was crazy. "I'm not taking some magical stone just because you say it has my memories in it. I'm not that stupid. You could have enchanted it to do anything."

Ingrid looked horrified. "I don't want to hurt you!"

"Sorry if I'm not very trusting on that—" Emma started, only to cut herself off when a swirl of black smoke invaded their conversation, and suddenly Baelfire's father was standing a few feet away from Ingrid.

"Papa?" he gaped, not having had a chance to say a word to his father since Rumplestiltskin had given up the dagger to save him, and now unable to stop himself from taking an uneasy step forward.

"Don't, Bae," Rumplestiltskin said softly, but Bae could see the conflict on his face—and the raw pain in his eyes. Yet it was amazing how his expression could shift from heartbroken to dangerous when he turned to Ingrid, who immediately took a step back. "It's best you come with me, dearie."

"You don't have my heart," the blonde woman said shakily.

"Do I need it?" the cool words were enough to send a chill down Bae's spine, but he sure as hell wasn't going to let this happen. Whatever this was.

"Papa, you don't have to do this, do you?" he asked, swallowing hard. "Can't you—"

"I can't, son."

Bae opened his mouth to object, but Ingrid tried to take advantage of the distraction, and her hands came up, sparkling with snow and ice. However, Rumplestiltskin was faster, and a wall of darkness hit her hard, sending the ice cream lady (Snow Queen, maybe?) reeling backwards drunkenly. She tried again to no avail, and it was like an invisible hand picked her up and threw her ten feet into the air before slamming her back into the ground.

"Stop this!" Emma shouted, moving to get between the two before Bae reached out to stop her. He knew that his father didn't want to do this—misery shone out from behind the cold appraisal in his eyes—and there was no way Bae was going to let Emma get hurt.

"You can't," he told her desperately, and she turned to glare at him.

"This isn't right," Emma spat.

"Of course it isn't, but the way to fix it is to take Cora down, not fight losing battles," Bae argued, and at least Emma didn't try to pull away.

"Kill me, then," Ingrid panted, levering herself into a sitting position. "Because I won't be her puppet any longer!"

Rumplestiltskin's smile was sad. "Neither you or I have a choice on that front, now, do we?"

"Then kill me!" the words were a plea.

"I wish I could, but mercy like that just isn't in the cards." Striding forward, Rumplestiltskin gripped Ingrid by the hand and pulled her to her feet; they exchanged a miserable glance before Bae's father added heavily: "For either of us."

Ingrid seemed to understand that better than Bae did, but she still shook her head as Bae tried one last time.

"Tell me what to do, Papa. Tell me how we can help you."

Dark eyes swept over where Bae and Emma stood, and abruptly, Bae realized he still had Emma by the arm and she wasn't arguing. There was a question in his father's face that Rumplestiltskin clearly refused to ask, and given the circumstances, Bae was glad for that. He didn't want to lie about it, but Bae knew that how much he loved Emma would only make her doubly Cora's target—at least until she was protected by the contract. If she was protected by the contract. Emma still hadn't said yes, and he really was determined to give her time on that.

"I'm not sure there's anything you can do," Rumplestiltskin admitted, and for a moment, vulnerability, pain, and something terribly broken flashed across his drawn features. "Just stay safe."

Then he disappeared, taking Ingrid with him, and Bae stood staring at the empty place where his father had been. What the hell is that evil bitch doing to him? he wondered, not for the first time. I have got to talk to Belle. Because there was no way that Bae was going to let this continue a moment longer than it had to. He had to do something.

Hell, worst case, he could make himself into an utter pain in the ass, a target that Cora really couldn't resist. That might distract her from Emma and her family, and if Cora tried to harm him, the gig would be up. I'm sure Papa can fix whatever she does short of killing me, Bae thought, making up his mind. He'd do it. He'd do whatever was necessary in order to put his family back together.

A/N: Stay turned for Chapter Eighty-Nine—"Teeth and Ambitions Bared", where Maurice looks for advice about his daughter in an unlikely place, Jafar seeks out Jefferson, Grumpy visits Belle, Cora wants to know what Rumplestiltskin sees in his 'little wife', and the heroes work on their grand plan.

Cookies to anyone who gets the title reference for the chapter, too. Hint: it's from a Disney movie.