“Don’t you think it’s weird that he’s not spending Valentine’s with Kathryn, though?” said Ashley. “What’s he doing here?”
Mary Margaret ordered another drink. She knew, of course. He was here to check up on her.
She ignored him for the duration.
When it was time to go, Mary Margaret gathered up her things, said good-bye to the girls—who protested, but she was exhausted—and left the Rabbit Hole. David followed, just as she had guessed he would, and when the two were a few blocks away, he called out to her, and she turned.
When he caught up, Mary Margaret said, “I saw you in there. It was creepy.”
“What do you mean, creepy?” he asked.
“I don’t need you stalking me,” she said. “It’s bad enough as it is. What will people think?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “A part of me doesn’t care.”
“Well I do,” she said, arms crossed. “It’s a small town. And what we’re doing isn’t right.”
David absorbed this, nodded, and reached into his jacket. He pulled out the card and handed it to her.
“I got you a Valentine’s card,” he said. “Here.”
Mary Margaret accepted the card, against her better judgment, and opened it.
She read it, frowned, and looked at David, holding it up: “Kathryn, I woof you?”
David looked surprised. “It’s the wrong one, I’m so sorry,” he said, plucking it out of her hand. He reached into his jacket and produced the other card. “Here, here. This is the right one.”
She took the second card, but did not open it.
Instead, she looked sadly at David.
“This isn’t working,” she said. “We both know it.”
“We can make it work,” he said. “Just give me time. Please, Mary Margaret.”
She sighed. “You should go home to Kathryn,” she said.
“I’m going to,” he said. “But I thought it was important to wish you happy Valentine’s Day. I did.”
“Well, thanks,” she said stiffly. “Happy Valentine’s Day to you, too.”
• • •
Emma had had a strange day. After a few hours hunting down Gold’s missing property, she’d become very suspicious of his intentions. Something told her that Gold was up to something, and that Moe French was more than just a “client.”
After her strange exchange with Gold in her office, she went to the diner with a stack of papers—information about Mr. Gold’s many properties in and around Storybrooke—and started digging through his holdings in search of connections to French. She was deep into an incredibly boring spreadsheet about his tax records when she looked up and saw Henry smiling at her.
“What’re you doing?” he asked.
“Work,” she said, sipping her coffee. “Why aren’t you at home?”
“My mom’s busy again,” he said, sliding in across from her. “And we never get to see one another anymore.”
Emma looked at him. He was right—Regina had been working hard to keep them apart. Which made it even more frustrating that, right now, she didn’t have any time to give him.
“Do you want to hear about Rumplestiltskin?”
“I’m not really in the mood, kid,” she said. She looked up and frowned. “Where’s your book?”
“I’m just remembering this one,” he said quickly.
“I don’t really have—”
“But it’s crazy,” he said, his eyes going wide. “There was this kingdom that needed his help, and so Rumplestiltskin went, and they said that they needed him to end the Ogre War because it was so dangerous, and in return he asked for the hand of a beautiful young—”
But Emma had spotted something on one of her papers, and she held up a hand.
Gold owned a house out in the country. A cabin.
She hadn’t known that.
She had a hunch. Moe French was missing; Gold was nowhere to be seen.
She decided to go check it out.
“Sorry, kid,” she said. “I have to go check on something.”
“Really?” he said, slightly disappointed.
“Next time—promise,” she said.
She drove out to the edge of town, then turned down an old dirt road, following the dusty map that had come along with the police cruiser. There was just something… Something was wrong with this whole thing. It wasn’t that one person was lying. Everyone was lying. There was a whole story underneath it all, and the story was missing. She could feel its absence.
She came around a bend and saw the truck.
Moe French’s truck.
Her hunch had been right.
She entered the cabin with her gun drawn, and when she did, she came across a horrid scene: Gold, manic, beating French, who was bloody and unconscious.
She stopped Gold and restrained him; he seemed to give up the second he saw her face. She called an ambulance and booked him on assault charges. The EMTs rushed French to the hospital, unsure about his chances.
Emma and Gold did not discuss much on the ride back to the sheriff’s office.
• • •
“I know what you’re thinking,” Emma was saying. “I owe you a favor, and you’re in my jail right now. And you don’t want to be in my jail. Am I right?” Having finished the processing, Emma sat at her desk, eating a sandwich. Gold was in the cell, sitting quietly, listening to her make light of the situation. She was not normally so glib. Perhaps she was trying to make the best of a bad situation.
“When I need the favor, I will take the favor,” he said finally.
Emma took another bite of the sandwich and watched him carefully. Before she could respond, however, the two heard the front door and both looked up. The mayor and Henry came in.
“I was wondering if you might like to spend an hour with Henry,” Regina said.
Emma finished the sandwich, looked at Regina, then back to Gold. “Let me guess. So you can talk to him alone.”
Regina shrugged. “Maybe,” she said. “Do you want to go with Henry or not?”
Emma nodded. “I do,” she said. “Actually.” She looked back at Gold. “You okay with this?”
“Of course.”
“Just this once, then,” Emma said to Regina.
She and Henry left.
For a few minutes they didn’t speak, and Emma tried to imagine what was being said between the two very strange people in the jail. They were enemies, clearly, but Emma knew there was more to their relationship than simple animosity. It went back. There were secrets.
“What is it,” Emma said finally, “about those two?”
“What do you mean?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know, Henry,” she said. “It was a strange day.”
“What did Mr. Gold do to get in there?” Henry asked.
“He attacked someone,” Emma said. “I caught him hurting a man.”
“What man?”
Emma looked at him and squinted. “Moe French,” she said. Henry nodded sagely but said nothing.
“What?” Emma said.
“You won’t believe me if I tell you,” Henry said, “so why should I tell you?”
“Entertain me.”
“Well,” Henry said. “Do you know how I told you that Rumplestiltskin turned kind of evil when he got his power?”
“Yes.”
“A little while later, after he was all alone and his son, Bae, was gone, he met a girl and fell in love with her, and he almost turned good again.”
“Almost?”
“Yeah,” Henry said. “He had the choice. Right after she kissed him. And he chose to stay powerful instead of being in love and being normal. Which is exactly what happened when he lost Bae, too.”
“His son died?”
“No,” Henry said. “He just disappeared.”
They walked in silence for a few more minutes. They were at the school now, and the night was cool and still. The leaves were gone from the trees, and the wind rattled the branche
s. There wasn’t this kind of quiet in Boston.
“Belle,” said Henry.
“What?”
“That was the girl he fell in love with,” Henry said. “But after he rejected her, she went back home, and her father thought she was no longer fit to marry, and so he locked her up.”
“What happened to her?”
“She killed herself,” Henry said. “That’s what the Queen said, anyway.”
Emma thought again of the sight of Gold beating Moe French. What had she heard Gold yelling? You sent her away!
“And let me guess,” Emma said. “Moe French was the girl’s father.”
“Do you even have to ask?”
Emma shook her head. This kid’s fantasy life was put together pretty well, she had to admit. And there was wisdom in it, and truth. He did know a lot about this town, even if he didn’t know he knew.
“Love’s tough,” Emma said, putting a hand on his shoulder. “So are fathers.”
Henry looked up at her, then nodded. “I guess so,” he said. “I guess that’s true.”
CHAPTER 10
WHAT HAPPENED TO FREDERICK
It seemed like every time Emma Swan cleared up a problem, two more grew in its place. Her tense ongoing conflict with Regina? Détente for now, but who knew where that would lead? The case of Gold and Moe French? Sure, she’d found Gold’s property, and Mr. French had stabilized in the hospital, but Gold, with a team of lawyers, had somehow snaked his way out of prosecution and had gotten away with nothing more than a slap on the wrist as punishment for beating a man within an inch of his life. She was beginning to remember why bounty hunting was so much more appealing than law enforcement itself. It was simple to find a person. It was a lot more complicated when the whole story came into play.
She still didn’t understand what had happened between Gold and the florist. She was resigned to the idea that she’d never really know.
There was more. Henry, it turned out, had lost his book during the big storm. (Or, according to him, Regina had used the storm as an opportunity to steal his book.) His castle had been knocked down by the high winds, and before anyone could lift a finger to clean up the mess, Regina had sent in the bulldozers to clear away the wreckage. She’d never liked that Henry had a special place of his own, and she’d hated that it was the place where Emma and Henry talked. Had she known that Henry’s book was buried in the sand? Emma didn’t know. She wouldn’t put it past Regina, but she also wouldn’t be surprised if the storybook wasn’t sitting at the bottom of a landfill right now, a casualty of circumstance.
Henry was upset without his stories, but Emma wondered whether it might not be the best thing for him. She’d promised him she would look for the book, but so far she hadn’t put much effort into it. She wouldn’t mind a little more honesty and a little more reality injected into their relationship.
Seeing him at the diner one afternoon, though, she couldn’t keep herself from asking him to tell her one of the stories. She thought it might help him remember his book and snap him out of his funk. And so when he looked up, mildly interested, and said, “Which one?” Emma responded by saying, “I don’t know. One about love.”
“Have I told you how Charming got Snow White to remember him again, after she drank the potion?”
“I don’t believe so. What potion again?”
“The potion that made her forget that she’d ever known him,” Henry said, the pitch of his voice rising. Emma was glad to see him snap back to life a little bit, although she didn’t smile, knowing it might stop him. Instead she nodded seriously.
“That’s right,” she said. “Rumplestiltskin made it for her.”
“Right. And she took it while she was with the dwarfs, because King George told her that he would kill Charming if she got in the way of the marriage.”
“Poor girl.”
“I know!” Henry said.
“But Charming went looking for her anyway.”
Emma listened as Henry told the rest of the story. Charming found Red Riding Hood, and with her help, he eventually found Snow White. Snow White, however, didn’t remember him, and what was more, she didn’t want anything to do with him, as she’d become fixated on killing the Queen. Charming tried to stop her—several times. But it wasn’t until he saved her, throwing himself in front of an arrow she’d shot at the Queen, proving to Snow White that he truly did love her, that his kiss was powerful enough to break the curse, and Snow White was able to remember who he was.
“So after that,” Emma asked, “she didn’t want to kill the Queen anymore?”
“She still hated her,” Henry said thoughtfully. “But she had love again, and that was more important.”
“And then they lived happily ever after?”
“No!” Henry said. “It was only just starting. Because right when it seemed like they’d be okay, King George’s henchmen caught up to them and dragged Charming away again.” Emma found herself wanting to ask him more questions, but just then, Henry stood. “I gotta go to school,” he said. “If I still had the book, I’d give it to you so you could read these for yourself.”
Emma smiled. “I’m still looking for it,” she said. “Don’t give up hope. Not yet.”
Henry left, and Emma sighed, sipping her coffee. She was starting to love that kid.
She was at the till, paying Ruby, when the stranger strutted into the diner, his motorcycle helmet under his arm. Not the person she wanted to see right now. She gave him a curt nod.
“Hey,” he said. “Just the person I came to see.”
She rolled her eyes and collected her change from Ruby, who eyed him, then smiled at Emma.
“I was hoping we might get that drink you promised me,” he said. “What do you say?”
“Here’s one problem,” Emma said. “I don’t date guys whose names I don’t know. Just a little personal policy.”
He nodded again and looked down. “Fair enough,” he said. “It’s August. August W. Booth.”
“What’s the W for?” she asked.
“Wayne. Is that a deal-breaker?”
“No,” Emma said. “I suppose not.”
“So now you don’t have a reason not to go out with me,” he said. “Tonight. When you’re done with work. I’ll meet you right outside.” He pointed at the door, gave her another smile.
He didn’t wait for her response, and instead walked past her, went out the door, got on his bike, and rode away.
Confident or obnoxiously cocky? Emma couldn’t quite tell. She was still standing at the till, thinking it through, when she looked up and saw Mary Margaret at the counter, in the back corner, watching her with a big, curious smile.
Emma went over.
“I didn’t know you were here,” Emma said. “You’re hiding out like a bandit.”
“You were engrossed in some kind of story with Henry,” she said. “I didn’t want to interrupt. More important, who was that?” she asked as Emma sat down.
“That’s what I’m trying to figure out,” she said. “I don’t know. It’s nothing.”
“Nothing with you means something,” said Mary Margaret. “If it really were nothing, we wouldn’t be talking about it.”
“What are you doing way back here, anyway?” Emma asked. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were hiding.”
“Yes,” Mary Margaret said, sipping her coffee. “I am avoiding.”
“Avoiding what?”
She took a deep breath.
“For the last couple of weeks,” she said, “David and I have been—”
“—having an affair, I know,” Emma said. She nodded at Ruby, who knew the look: more coffee. This was one of her more epic diner stops in some time.
Mary Margaret was stunned. “How did you…?” she began.
“It’s obvious,” Emma said. “I’m the sheriff and your roommate. But I think I would have been able to tell if I were a blind shut-in, the way you’ve been acting.”
“I didn’t realize it wa
s that obvious.”
Emma shrugged. “Yeah, well,” she said. “What are you gonna do?” Just then Ruby set the coffee down in front of her, and Emma smiled her thanks.
“It’s not what I’m going to do,” Mary Margaret said. “It’s what David is going to do. He’s telling Kathryn. Today.”
“Everything?” said Emma, impressed. She didn’t think he had it in him. She was worried for her friend, and David seemed to be a classic manipulator in the end. Apparently it didn’t matter whether you were in a coma and had your brain reset; if you had it in you to be a pig about relationships, that part stuck.
“Everything,” Mary Margaret said. “Absolutely everything.”
“And what brought this on?”
“She told him that she wants to move to Boston,” said Mary Margaret, “and that she wants to go to law school. So it seems like everything’s coming to a head.”
“He’s made grand proclamations before,” Emma said. “And now he’s got you sneaking around town. Be careful, Mary Margaret.”
“I know,” she said. “I know. I will.”
• • •
Mary Margaret was between classes, walking down the hall amid a sea of students, when her cell phone rang. Most times she wouldn’t pick up, but it was David.
“Hey—did, um, did you do it?” Mary Margaret asked, trying not to sound too hopeful.
“Yeah, it was bad,” he said.
“I’m sorry,” she replied, trying to sound sympathetic.
“No, it was—it was really bad.”
“But you told the truth—so now we can pick up the pieces. We can start over from a real place,” she said, feeling a tremendous weight lift from her shoulders. Despite the people around her, she stopped walking, closed her eyes, and let it sink in. Finally. Finally they could be together.
He seemed to take a strange pause before answering.
“Hey, I want to see you. Can I come by when you get done with school?”
“Of course. I’ll see you then! And David? You did the right thing.”
They both hung up.
When she opened her eyes, her smile became something different. First, it changed into a smile of confusion. Then the smile faded entirely.