Beane Odette - Reawakened - A Once Upon A Time Tale

Gold, quiet for once, stood looking at the glass case.

— I see, — he said finally. He swallowed once. — That will be all.

— Will it, now? — Emma said. — I’m so sorry to bother you.

— That’s not what I meant, — Gold said. — I apologize. It’s a shock to the system when one’s home is invaded. — He took a breath, gave her a smile. — Although I do think I can give you a strong lead, considering what was taken. I believe the man you should speak to is named Мое. Мое French.

— Okay, — Emma said. — I’ll check him out. — She eyed Gold suspiciously. — Any reason you’re worried about him in particular?

— I imagine there will be some paperwork, — he said. — Would you like tea?

Mary Margaret was excited about the idea of going out with the girls, even though it was, of course, a replacement for what she really wanted to do — spend a normal Valentine’s Day on a date with the man she loved. But that wasn’t possible.

On the sidewalk, though, David jogged to catch up to her.

— I need to talk to you, — he called.

A nervous cloud overtook her face when she realized he aimed to talk to her out in the open. Since the kiss, they’d tried hard to be more discreet. She had no interest in being known as a home wrecker. Site couldn’t believe he was being so brazen.

— I don’t think we should…

— I don’t want you to do this girls’ night thing, — he said. — I just don’t. That’s all.

It made her furious.

— Do you really think you have any right to tell me what I should do? — she said. — Considering?

— No, I don’t, — he admitted. — But I still don’t want you to go. Considering.

— Well, I’m sorry, — she said, — but I don’t have anything to do on Valentine’s. I have no one to take me out. So I’m going to do something fun. — She shook her head. — I’m tired, David, — she said. — I’m so tired of secrecy. I don’t want to keep doing this.

— I don’t want this to be the situation, — he said. — I feel like you’re punishing me.

— Funny, — she said. — That’s how I feel every day. About you.

— Where is this coming from? — he said. — Just the other day we were…

— I don’t know, David, — she said. — Maybe I woke up to something. Or maybe I remembered something. About respecting myself. I just can’t help feeling like you’d go on like this forever if I gave you the chance.

— That’s not true.

— Isn’t it?

David looked deflated by this comment, but she didn’t feel bad for him. She felt bad for herself. She walked away.

Emma called Gold when she got back to the station, and soon he was there, an eager look in his eyes. She showed him to her desk and to the items she’d discovered at Мое French’s home.

Sloppy work, really. Hilariously, or perhaps just idiotically, Мое French had even used a pillowcase to steal Gold’s antiques. She’d acquired a warrant and searched his home. Standard stuff. The pillowcase, still full, was sitting on his kitchen table. No sign of French.

— It’s not here, — Gold said, after a moment of scanning the desk.

There were lamps and candelabras, nice pieces of china, cigarette cases, pieces of jewelry.

— These aren’t your things? — Emma asked, surprised.

— They are, — Gold said, irritated. — But not everything. He took something very specific. And very valuable to me. — He brushed past her, heading toward the door. — I wish you knew how to do your job.

What’s stuck in his craw? Emma wondered.

— It might help if you told me what it was you were looking for, Gold, — Emma said, watching him storm away. Even for him, this was prickly. — I’m running in the dark here. How about a hint?

— No matter, — he said, over his shoulder. — Please find Mr. French. He’ll lead you to the rest.

— Who is he to you?

— A client.

— An enemy?

— A client.

He stopped and turned just enough to look at her sidelong.

— If you can’t find him, I’ll take matters into my own hands.

— Don’t do anything stupid, Gold, — she said.

— Thank you for the warning, — he said. — I never do.

Daytime bled into the night, and darkness overtook Storybrooke. Emma, despite her best efforts, could not locate Мое French, and as she drove up and down the streets of the town, she wished that Graham were here with her to help. He’d always had a knack for finding people, hadn’t he? Nothing had been quite the same without him.

Their kiss, that last kiss, still lingered.

Mary Margaret met Ruby and Ashley at the Rabbit Hole. She smiled along with the other two as Ashley told some funny stories about what a handful the baby was some days. She listened diligently as Ruby described her problems dating and complained about how difficult it was to find a good guy in Storybrooke. She wanted to tell them more about David, and to describe how frustrating it had been to be with someone in secret, but it wasn’t time, and she couldn’t do that to him. She loved Ruby, but she was afraid that the story would be all around town by tomorrow morning if Mary Margaret admitted to the affair.

— What about you, Mary Margaret? — Ashley said, after Ruby seemed finished with her outburst.

— What about me?

— Your love life, — Ashley said. — Anything new with Dr. Whale?

— God no, — Mary Margaret said, frowning and taking another sip of her drink. — That was a huge mistake.

— I think it’s kinda fun that you guys hooked up, — said Ruby. — He might be bad news, but he’s hot bad news.

— I just… — Mary Margaret didn’t finish the sentence, though. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Across the room, at the bar, David was sitting down next to Archie. The two of them were chatting, but he cast a furtive glance in her direction.

— What? — Ashley said, looking where she was looking. «OMG», she said when she saw David. — What a weird match.

— I don’t think they’re dating, — Ruby said, and the two of them laughed. — Wouldn’t that be funny, though?

— 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.