After successfully collecting more mermaid water from the cove in Neverland, Jefferson had intended to go straight back to the Enchanted Forest. But somehow, once inside the hat, he found himself drawn to the steel door of the land without colour. Jefferson firmly told himself as he stepped through that he was only going for a replacement vial, pushing any thoughts of Elizabeth from his head. It had been hard enough trying to convince the flirtatious mermaids that his lack of attention to their chatter wasn't because he had fallen in love.
'Love would be an exaggeration anyway, this is merely an infatuation. I don't have time for love,' Jefferson thought before muttering aloud one of Rumplestiltskin's mottos:
"Love is weakness."
As Jefferson walked up the drive to the castle, he noticed a horse and carriage were parked outside. He gave a courteous nod to the driver, attempting to vanquish the voice in his head that insisted the carriage was Elizabeth's and that she was in the castle. For a moment, he considered turning back, but he knew Rumplestiltskin would soon notice the missing vial that Regina had broken. He could buy a replacement, but that would be out of his own wages. Stealing was for free, and Victor had plenty of spare bottles in his laboratory.
'I'll just borrow a vial or two and leave,'
He knocked on the door, and Igor answered, showing Jefferson to Victor's laboratory. Even in the daylight, the castle seemed to be dull, the dim sunlight only exemplifying the shadows that lingered in every corner. Jefferson stopped for a moment to observe the portrait he'd caught sight of. A man and woman stood in the centre, whom Jefferson guessed were Victor's parents. His father stood rigidly, his steely eyes cool with determination, whereas his mother seemed more kindly, a baby cradled in her arms. By her side stood a young boy, who was clutching his mother's hand, his face an infant version of Victor's. The other child was Elizabeth, knelt down between Victor's parents, whom until then Jefferson had presumed were also her parents. He looked a little closer, frowning slightly in confusion. Elizabeth's features didn't quite match the couple: unlike Victor, whose smile mirrored his mother's. Somehow Elizabeth didn't quite seem to belong, even though they were all in black and white.
"Ah, I see you've noticed," Igor said, "although Miss Elizabeth is considered to be a very close sister to both Victor and his brother Gerhardt, she was in fact adopted, hence her features not matching Alphonse or his wife."
Jefferson nodded and followed Igor through to the laboratory, though he hesitated at the sound of Elizabeth's voice.
"Oh Victor, you make it sound as though it was supposed to be an enjoyable day out."
Igor had slipped inside, busying himself with tiding away equipment, although Jefferson remained in the doorway for a moment, listening to their content chatter. If Victor and Elizabeth weren't brother and adopted sister, Jefferson would almost be convinced they were together, bickering like an old married couple. This illusion was shattered by Elizabeth grabbing a nearby book, bashing it against her brother's arm. He didn't seem to be injured, rather enjoying her playful violence.
'Maybe that's what it's like to have people care about you: siblings and parents to rely on,' Jefferson thought bitterly, clearing his throat to announce his arrival.
"Jefferson! I didn't realise you'd be paying us a visit," Victor said.
Elizabeth looked up, her expression momentarily blank, but a giveaway smile suddenly brightened up her features. She quickly dropped her head back into the book she'd used to attack Victor, her eyes furtively scanning the words. Jefferson didn't fancy making conversation, a rather bashful awkwardness overcoming him. He could feel a hot flush making the back of his neck burn, which he put down to the bright lights of the laboratory, not the fact that Elizabeth kept sneaking glances back up from her book in his direction.
Jefferson drummed his fingers on the metal operating table, realising the current situation hardly allowed him to steal. He couldn't steal right in front of her, so he decided to go for the more honest approach:
"I was just on my way back from a job and was wondering if you have any spare vials I could borrow?"
"By borrow you mean never return?" Victor replied, raising his eyebrows at Jefferson, though his tone seemed more amiable than it had been when they'd last spoken at the ball.
"Yep."
The scientist rolled his eyes, taking an empty vial from a cupboard, which was filled with far different things to that of Rumplestiltskin's cupboards. Where the Dark One collected different types of magic, Victor collected what Jefferson recalled were called 'elements'. Jefferson took the vial from Victor, slipping it into his bag alongside the mermaid water. He nodded in thanks and took a step back to leave, but Victor motioned to a wooden stool, sitting down on one himself.
"Come Jefferson; tell us of today's adventures."
"Yes," Elizabeth chimed in, properly looking up from the book so that her eyes met Jefferson's, "I'm sure you had more fun than me."
Reluctantly, Jefferson sat down on the stool. His charismatic storytelling came easily enough, and soon he had both Elizabeth and Victor enthralled with his embellished tales of the trip to Neverland, telling them of the mysterious Peter Pan and his devoted 'lost boys', as well as the mermaids, fairies and pirates that also inhabited the island where you never aged. He finished the stories by producing the vial of mermaid water, shaking the turquoise liquid until it bubbled.
"Wow," Elizabeth sighed, her face still lit up at the romanticised thoughts of Neverland that Jefferson had conjured, "you really did have a better day than me."
"What was so bad about your day?" Jefferson asked, taking a sip of the tea Igor had brought for them each.
He leant back in his seat, listening with amusement to Elizabeth's rant about having to go and try on her wedding dress, then compare it with the bridesmaid's dresses, before deciding which flowers to have, as the Count wanted lilies, and Elizabeth wanted roses. She revealed the Count won, but only out of her desperation to leave.
"And tomorrow he wants to take me out for more dancing practice!" Elizabeth complained wearily, her shoulder's dropping as she slumped into the chair.
"I can't dance for toffee," she added miserably, "at the ball last week I kept standing on his toes."
Victor had bitten his lip to stop a laugh escaping him, and exchanged a look with Jefferson, who was also smiling at Elizabeth's rather melodramatic pitifulness.
"It's not funny!" She cried, "I'm serious!"
"I'm sure you can dance, you just need the right partner," Jefferson said, winking at Elizabeth.
He was about to add something, when Victor interrupted,
"If you practice a little more with the Count, then you may find dancing easier- and aren't vampires renowned for being excellent dancers?"
"Yes and Elizabeth Frankenstein's are not!" She muttered, sighing as she glanced at the clock, "I better get going; you know the Count hates having to wait."
Elizabeth pocketed the book she'd been reading, and gave her brother a brief hug before dashing off up the stairs. Jefferson waited until her footsteps had fully faded before announcing he also needed to go, claiming Rumplestiltskin was expecting him.
To his surprise the carriage was still on the driveway, and Elizabeth was stood on the porch, her arms folded to combat the cold wind.
"I thought the Count would be here?"
Elizabeth shook her head, her breath misting between them as she exhaled.
"He always arrives five minutes late, because he knows I take five minutes to actually leave." Elizabeth laughed, before adding, "I figured you wanted to say something earlier, but Victor stopped you."
"I was going to offer you a dance with me. I like to think of myself as a fairly decent dancer: waltz, tango, polka, you name it, I can teach you."
"Well then, I suppose I accept your offer." Elizabeth said, letting out a startled cry as Jefferson grabbed her hand and spun her around.
Her foot caught the other and she stumbled into him, her head hitting his chest. She rested there for a second, and Jefferson couldn't help but to put his arm around her back to support her, his fingers catching her bare shoulder. Suddenly, Elizabeth hurriedly backed away, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she caught her breath.
"I'm so sorry!" She gasped, "I told you I couldn't dance."
"Don't worry about it," Jefferson said, hastily retracting his hand from her arm at the clatter of horse hooves approaching the house.
"Maybe we can have the dance lesson some other time?" Elizabeth said, glancing behind to where the carriage had been parked, the Count's low voice just about audible.
"I should probably go," she added, hurrying down the stone steps before Jefferson had a chance to say goodbye.
He watched the grey drizzle splatter her dress until she rounded the corner and vanished from sight. But he could imagine her clambering into the carriage, the Count there to greet her, to hold her the way he couldn't, to talk to her without having to hide. Jefferson knew Elizabeth wasn't even his to want, that he wasn't even supposed to have led her on in the first place.
'You just couldn't stop yourself, could you?' He thought resentfully, stepping out into the rain. Jefferson wished for a way out, a door he could step through that would take him back to a time when he had never even known of Elizabeth's existence. As he re-entered the hat's hall of doors, Jefferson swore to himself he would never go back through, never say another word to her.
But Jefferson never could keep any of his promises.