Jefferson pranced into Mr. Gold's Pawn Shop. At the sound of the bell, Rumple stopped his task, steepled his hands over the checkout desk, and placed his bowed head behind his hands.

His eyes shut, Rumple murmured as he felt the Mad Hatter stand on the other side and beam at him, "The sign says we're closed."

"What's the plan?" Jefferson chirruped. "What day have you chosen for that evil woman to drop dead? What's your method? I am fascinated."

"Well, of course you are." Rumple dropped his hands to the desk in defeat then peered earnestly at Jefferson. "But alas, the missus made me promise not to kill her."

Jefferson's jaw nearly hit the floor. "B-but," he sputtered through his nostrils. Folding his arms over his chest, he gasped, "You're not married!"

"No, but I love her, so she's my missus. Even though we haven't gone on a date or officially become a couple. Though I guess," he raised his gaze to the ceiling, "she did choose to sleep in my bed these past two nights."

Jefferson noted that must be why Rumple looked exhausted. What he didn't realize was Belle was mostly talking before they slept. She'd been contained for far too long, and Rumple enjoyed the feel of her body against his because of love. He'd never been the type who desired cheap, shallow couplings. What made him want to join bodies with a woman was always love. He'd loved Milah, Cora, and Belle. And he'd always been the type of guy who let the woman do the leading in the bedroom.

Though in the cases when a woman he hadn't loved had come onto him—("I want a baby!" "I'm flattered but not interested.")—he had shot them down hard so they'd know better than to come onto him a second time.

In any case, Rumple knew what Jefferson assumed he and Belle had been doing to that bed. However, he didn't care what Jefferson—or anyone but Belle and perhaps Emma and her interesting son—thought of him. So Rumple didn't correct Jefferson nor hint the lie was true. Rather, he stared at the riled-up man impassively.

"Regardless of what you promised Belle," Jefferson faltered, a muscle between his eyebrows spasming. Tears of frustration leaked from his eyes. "I promised my daughter I'd r-return…and because that bitch tricked me." His jaw trembled. Revolving his head, he tried to calm down. "I couldn't. Regina makes you break promises. So break your promise." Reaching over the counter, he clamped a hand on Rumple's shoulder. "Seize the day. Do the brave thing and bravery will follow."

"That's Belle's quote."

"Please," Jefferson beseeched. Releasing Rumple's shoulder, he mused, "A man like you can order someone's death without touching a hair on his victim's head. There's got to be a loophole."

"Oh, there is," agreed Rumple, glancing down at the potion he was preparing.

Hope glimmered on Jefferson's face. "Then do it!"

"I can't," informed The Dark One. Restlessly, he admitted, "I despise leashes, but if I want to be in a real relationship—and I am trying, though I won't pretend it's easy—I have to honor my promises." He glanced again at the potion then muttered despondently, "Oh, Bae."

"What is the loophole?"

Distractedly, Rumple replied, "The Qui Shen. The Soul Sucker."

"Don't you need the Dark One's dagger to summon it?"

Rumple turned keen eyes upon the Hatter—or nutter, depending what angle one gazed at him from. "What makes you say that?"

Jefferson shrugged. "A rumor I heard in Wonderland."

"Did you really?" It was Rumple's turn to beam. Dismissively, he enlightened, "Regina has a book that explains how to summon it without my dagger." He coughed. "You won't touch my dagger," he promised.

Becoming lost in thought, Jefferson headed for the shop's exit as Grumpy came bursting in. "We can't cross the town line!" he bellowed.

Rumple crinkled his brow at him. Jefferson turned with his hands stuffed in his coat pocket and stood against the wall, hoping Rumple would forget he was there.

"What do you mean?" Rumple wondered. "What happens if someone tries to cross it?"

"Whoever crosses it loses their memories from the enchanted forest and becomes their cursed self…forever," reported Grumpy.

Rumple's face lost several shades of color. To himself, he muttered, "The price of magic…"

"All us dwarves are warning people," explained Grumpy. "I don't want to be in this world—I want to be in the enchanted forest. Regina's in Storybrooke, and if she flings fireballs, we'll have an apocalypse. Our only other option is to leave and forget who we are…" He shuddered.

Rumple gripped the back of his own hand. "H-how…do you know?"

"Dwarf duty. Sneezy is gone." Grumpily, Grumpy grumped, "He's a politically-correct, hair-slicked back, dude who thinks he works in a cubicle like in NYC…gosh, I have memories of visiting the Two Towers as a kid…but I hatched fully-grown from a bloody egg. Stupid false memories." Grumpy peered speculatively at Rumple. Sotto voce, he wondered, "Why didn't we go back?"

"If you think," Rumple returned dryly, "I'm going to share a secret with you or Snow—a loudmouth and a secret spiller—you've been smoking one too many cigars."

Grumpy pulled a face. But grumbled, "You have a point," under his breath.

"Fortunately for you," Rumple continued briskly, "the answer isn't secret but common sense. There's nothing in the curse about returning to our respective worlds."

Bewilderedly, Grumpy groused, "But it's broken!"

"Yes, meaning the curse's power is vanquished. Don't you think a curse needs a bounty of power in order to work properly? Of course, you wouldn't know since you don't dabble in my form of magic. You merely mine diamonds for fairy dust, and that's hardly the same thing."

"Fairy dust!" Grumpy's eyes sparkled suddenly. "Rumple, I could kiss you! Maybe Blue can help after all!" He started to rush off, nearly barreling into Jefferson. Rumple scowled darkly as he watched, disgusted at the thought of Blue.

In a quiet but carrying voice, Rumple inquired, "You really want help from the woman who 'helped' you so much with the woman you love?"

Grumpy stopped in his tracks, freezing in mid-footstep.

"You want help from the woman who patronizingly told you what you feel isn't love, that you cannot love," the imp mimicked the fairy he despised, " 'because you are a dwarf and dwarves can't love'." Strongly, he asserted while breathing heavily through his nostrils, "But you know she's wrong. Because you love Snow as a friend and your fellow dwarves as brothers. You know she's wrong because rejecting the dream of sailing with Nova changed you from Dreamy to Grumpy. Infatuations don't change you, but love does."

Baring his teeth, still facing the pawn shop's door and standing very close to Jefferson, Grumpy growled, "What do you want?"

"In this case," Rumple declared smoothly, "if you want to get Tom Clark back to his original state, I do believe your best bet is fairy magic It cannot always remove a curse," he glanced at Geppetto's doll parents, "but the magic I do requires someone to remember who they are before bringing them back to their true state…and that is simply impossible. Fairy magic…" he made a pinching gesture with his forefinger and thumb, "is a little different."

Grumpy paraphrased, "The Dark One may be the most powerful sorcerer in all the lands, but even his power has its limits."

Then he frowned. "Why bring up the very thing that will make me lift my axe and picture Blue's smiling face greeting me? If I can trust her."

Wryly, Rumple responded while bringing the tips of his forefingers together in front of his chest, "You can't trust her. Not saying she won't help, but the point is don't let her—tkk—superior attitude fool you into the blind faith that she is the ultimate good. Because contrary to what that self-righteous prat believes….she is not."

"She lied to you, didn't she?" Grumpy guessed.

Rumple nodded slowly. "That she did…and she spreads the falsehood that fairies never lie. Now," he beckoned at the door, "kindly heed my Closed sign and show yourselves out."