Jefferson awoke on a bad toothache. It was not the crack of dawn but closer to his comfort zone—nearly eleven in the morning. He'd actually had a decent time sleeping in spite of knowing the backstabber was free to stab all the backs she wanted.
For god's sake, he'd fulfilled his end of the latest bargain, but once again, all she was about was screwing Jefferson and Grace over. Little Miss Pout Pout would do anything to save her own son, but screw other people's beloved children. Shamelessly selfish, "Oh, Henry ate the apple turnovers instead of Miss Swan, so I don't owe you shit. Now goodbye and good day."
And his threat to kill her had caused her to laugh derisively instead of shrivel in fear. Then she'd stated quite dispassionately she knew he lacked the gall to murder her. "You're too soft, what a wuss," was essentially what she'd said. "Now, let me get back to being the Evil Queen I was destined to be. Chop chop!"
Without thinking, Jefferson snatched some pliers out of a dresser drawer and wrenched the painful tooth out. With one fierce tug. It was a mark of how agitated he was over Regina that he managed to wrench the bottom molar out on only one try.
Then he held the pliers full of tooth in front of his eyes, still far away from his mansion. When his brain started to tire of Regina sneering at him in the hospital, his eyes at last began to focus on what was before him, and it occurred to him something warm and wet was falling effortlessly from his opened mouth and into his lap.
Blinking quickly, he focused on the object then groaned. Ugh, the things he did when he wasn't fully conscious. This was perhaps the first time he did something that he couldn't fix with enough time. He'd once uprooted all of his onions out of his garden while being in one of these cloudy mindsets, all without a spit of conscious thought.
Another time, he'd been locked in thoughts of Grace and had pelted five pumpkins at cars driving down a street. He'd gone to see Archie after he'd come to, and Archie had calmed him down. Of course, Regina hadn't wanted him in jail with Leroy for whatever reason, so he hadn't been punished. In any case, the five people whose cars had gotten hit had been the five least angry people in Storybrooke (aside from Archie) and there hadn't been any damages. So he hadn't done anything too terrible, though he was sure in another city, he'd have spent at least two nights in jail.
After all, the pumpkins did shatter on impact and splatter pumpkin brains and seeds all over the vehicles. No damages but plenty of mess. And Jefferson hadn't been the one who cleaned it up; the vehicle owners hadn't asked him to do such. They'd just called Regina and told her Graham might need to do something about the nutter launching pumpkins at passersby.
Jefferson lost his mind again and tried unsuccessfully to superglue the tooth back in place. When this attempt failed, he tossed the tooth, muttered something nutty about tattooing a tooth in its place, then pressed a cotton ball to the opened wound until it quit dripping blood.
He had the money to see a dentist, thanks to Regina making him a millionaire in Storybrooke, but he honestly didn't feel like it. He figured if he died over this, so be it. Maybe it'd be a relief. After all, he was tired of living with Regina's words taunting him just before she took her father and ditched Jefferson in Wonderland. He couldn't face Grace because he was sure, even with her memories returned, she believed Jefferson had willingly ditched her. He didn't have the guts to look at her now that Emma had broken the curse, much less, approach her. He was too sure she'd slap him.
And if she didn't slap him but cried in his arms, he'd feel even worse than he felt right now. The guilt was eating him alive…a flesh-eating virus. Only, it left him alive and in terrible pain.
He couldn't stand the thought of feeling even guiltier. How could a man live with so much guilt flooding his lungs? He was thoroughly ashamed of himself for being manipulated by that evil witch.
Rising to his feet, he knew he couldn't stay cooped up in his mansion all day, alone with his wonky thoughts. He left his bedroom to make a pot of coffee then go to his office to get some work done…even though technically this little town was a joke. Built on magic, no one actually needed to work to maintain their financial status. It was magically locked, and it was ridiculous thinking how a pawn shop owner wasn't supposed to be paid for his shop's contents. If not for the magical security, Rumple would be utterly bankrupt the moment the curse was broken.
There was something about that red-lipstick smeared smile that sent chills down Jefferson's spine.
Crossly, he snarled, "What do you want, Little Miss Pout Pout?"
Regina brought the rest of herself in the room. Thoroughly smug, she radiated such pride in herself it was blinding. Jefferson whipped his sunglasses on his face.
"Come here, to gloat, I see," he commented without interest, smoothing his midnight-blue cape with freshly lotioned hands.
"That's what you think," she purred, cocking her head. Half her left eye was caught in the sunlight that climbed in from the window. The dark brown hue was lightened in the direct embrace from the sun. "No…that's what you wish. But there won't be any blue stars to save you now…"
He growled, bearlike, "The hell you talking about, woman? There ain't no blue stars that escorted me from Wonderland to the daughter you manipulated me into abandoning. By promising if I did your deed, I would be able to provide for her anything her heart desires, except possibly the heart of whichever man she wanted. And you have the nerve to act like that pompous old bat saved me from you before? Are you suffering delusions? Is your past full of fake memories? Or are you just a sick little psychopath who knows she's lying and enjoys every falsehood that flies from her lips?"
"You just tore up an important document," Little Miss Pout Pout simpered coolly. Studying the confetti regally, she ran her fingertips along a dust-free shelf.
Jefferson arched his brow at her. "Not that important," he informed her almost conversationally but with a twinge of hostility. "I have a copy in my email. In fact, I just printed it out. Hasn't been signed yet. I was merely reading it."
"Ooh, trying to play like I don't send shivers down your spine."
Jefferson brushed by her, his teeth flashing, eager to sink into her throat. "Let's put it this way. I'm not afraid of you, not really. I feel more like a grizzly bear watching a jaguar who might decide to eat her cub. Ready to fight you to the finish."
Regina guffawed. The sound started in the center of her throat but it slowly emasculated her body. Becoming broader and broader, making her whole body tremble with the hilarity of his statement. She doubled over, unable to stand up straight. Her red lipstick smile curved up like he was so ridiculous she only spent time with him to amuse herself.
When her laughter at last reached its peak and pattered off, she no longer held Jefferson's attention. He was working. One of the documents he was supposed to sign had a statement that caused him to reach for a reference book so he could clarify if what the document said was plausible. In midst of trying to determine the validity of the contract, he felt a hard book hit him in the stomach.
"Enough games, you nitwit," Regina uttered wryly, still shining with amusement. "I have magic, you don't. You really think you have a hope of defeating me? You're like a guy in a wheelchair who thinks he can defeat a guy who runs marathons for a living. Really, Jefferson? I never thought you were this idiotic, or I would've enjoyed fooling a smarter man into helping me rescue my father."
"I do have magic," he reminded her crossly.
"Oh, sure, the kind that occasionally creates hats that help you teleport to another world," she uttered derisively. "One strain of specific magic isn't going to help you defeat someone who excels in magic as a whole. But if you want to stick your head up your delusions, I will not be stopping you." She made a shooing motion, daring him to continue.
"Whatever. Don't come at me or Grace, or you will regret it," he growled.
Turning away from him with her eyes in pompous slits, Regina marveled, "I take it back. You're a Chihuahua threatening a Doberman trained to attack. Silly Jefferson. You really think I'm terrified I'll regret," she was suddenly right in front of him. Walking her fingers up his arm while staring at it, she mused, "Anything…I do…to you?" Smugly, she left two of her fingers on his shoulder for several heartbeats then walked wryly away. Stalking his office like a wildcat. Waiting for the funnest moment to detach the crown of his head from his skull.
"You play with fire," seethed Jefferson, "you get burned."
Whippet-fast, Regina pivoted toward him. Her voice rang out as her eyes shone, triumphant, and her red lipstick smile glowed as if it had a lightbulb inside. "No, I play with fire, you'll get burned." Then she raised her hands. Bright red and purple strands shot from either of her forefingers. They connected at the center, between her and Jefferson, and spiraled around each other as they stretched from the Evil Queen toward Jefferson.
"Snow isn't the one who first called you evil," Jefferson managed to say before the strands reached him. "Everyone was calling you that. You know why? Because you are. You cross lines only a purely evil person would. There's no saving you. You killed Snow's husband."
"Oh, pish-posh," grinned Regina. "I didn't kill Mufasa or Sirius Black. Just a sex toy, nothing more. One that didn't want to take care of me, so what's the harm? Oh…" she smiled heartlessly. "And another sex toy who also didn't want to take care of me. But I made him. Against his will. Then I murdered him. How's that for…always having the upper hand?"
Then the magic reached Jefferson. He felt himself turn…wet. And sticky. He was frowning as he felt his 3D figure flatten into 2D. Trying to figure out what exactly the evil one was doing to him.
Smashing against the wall, he felt no pain, but the thud reverberated through him. Glancing to the side, he saw he was surrounded by a green maze and a giant stack of teacups. A fierce wind that wasn't in his office blew a hat. Playing with it like it was a soccer ball.
Jefferson's skin felt cool, yet he wasn't uncomfortable. Not even being wet. Not a speck on him was itchy. Regina seemed to have grown larger, however. As had his office. He didn't remember it being that big-looking.
Then he lifted his eyes above his head and saw the elaborate brown frame. He closed one eye then the other then filled his vision with the red lipsticked smile.
"So," he coughed. "Taking tips from JK Rowling, are we?"
Smugly, Regina remarked, "I think I have my own sense of style. Anyway, you can't leave that painting." Pressing her forehead to the cool frame, she snickered. "You're trapped. This is your prison. What you get for siccing a Wraith on me." She turned her back on Jefferson. "Rumple is next. I'm going to get the girl away from him…and I'm going to kill her. To punish him for giving you that idea. 'Cause I know you did not come up with it all by yourself. Enjoy your bored little brain."
As she floated off, very smug indeed, Jefferson wryly wished Will were stalking him. Then he'd figure…some way…to get Jefferson out of this predicament.
He wondered how long he'd have to wait for his absentminded drunk of a friend to stumble upon him accidentally. Or notice his absence and go hunting for him.
Half-there as the Knave of Hearts was, Jefferson had no doubt he was clever enough to find a sinkhole to get Jefferson loose.
For now, Jefferson refused to lose his mind to boredom. Regina had planned for him to do such, and he would not give her what she wanted. So he brandished his head full of thoughts. Exciting thoughts. Colorful thoughts. Daydreaming about a movie Regina starred in where the Evil Queen stopped winning her dirty little battles.
Because the evil woman always got her way in the end. There was no such thing as her hunting for a happy ending because abusive people are always happy to snuff the light out of people.
So he created a fantasy where she tried to bully and abuse people…and each and every time, she failed.
His favorite was her trying to murder Prince Charming and being run through with David's sword instead. This fantasy gave the Mad Hatter a jolt of joy and a bark of laughter and immense satisfaction. Would serve her right for ordering her guards to kill him and the baby before the curse hit…and nearly succeeding. Prince Charming had been run through with a sword by one of her guards.
The fantasy was what the nutter referred to in his full mind as "poetic justice".