Look in My Eyes

Misbehaviour

[A/N: In this fan fiction you will not be finding Henry or Emma or Snow or Charming or any of that. I'm so sick of seeing PP fan fictions with the hunt for Henry. Yes, I understand we were introduced to Pan because he kidnapped Henry, but it gets annoying reading the same thing over with different situations, no? Anyway, I want you to know also that Peter isn't Rumple's father. There will be PG-14 moments, swearing, and.....licking. ENJOY. *licks you all*]

There was a flash and Gemma blinked her eyes rapidly. A groaned sounded 6 feet in front of here and she couldn't help but smirk.

"Sweetie, can you control your damn eyes?" Mr. Connely asked behind his Bellows Camera.

"Clearly not..." She mumbled.

The shiny, black blobs started to fade and she could see Mr. Connely gripping the bridge of his nose with his index finger and thumb, his glasses risen in the process. Gemma was sitting in a large arm chair in front of a massive, roaring fireplace and family portrait. Mr. Connely took a deep breath.

"OK, darling. Please try to control your eye flutters."

Gemma lifted her eyebrows sarcastically and did an exaggerated fake smile and waited for Mr. Connely take the photo. 

Flash! 

She blinked.

Mr. Connely threw his arms up, exasperated. "Hopeless!" He threw the sheet of cloth off of him and started to pack up his camera. Gemma could hear her mother talking frantically to Mr. Connely about trying it once more, which he refused. Gemma had her head turned and was covering her mouth trying to hide her smile. She then heard heals storming into the room.

"Well! There! He's gone! Now what are we to do, young lady?"

"Come on, Momma! It's not like I can control my eyes after the flash! It's a natural human reaction to protect the eyes from such a harsh and sudden light!"

Mrs. Berring had her arms crossed and was muttering to herself.

"And you're not listening to me..."

"Excuse me?" Her mother snapped her head back at her, enraged. "Go to your room!"

Gemma gaped at her. "You're kidding, right?"

"GO TO YOUR ROOM!"

Gemma threw off the knitted blanket on her lap and ran up to her room, nearly tripping over her skirts. She heard a scuffling behind her and smiled at the thought that the cooks couldn't hold back her Irish Wolfhound Geoffrey any longer. Geoffrey trotted up the stairs beside her loyally. Gemma ran to her room and slammed the door behind Geoffrey. She fell on her bed. 

"UGH! I hate her!"

Geoffrey jumped on her bed, laid his head on her arm and whined.

"I wish I could leave, too."

His sad eyes stared up at her. He placed his paw on her shoulder, a sign of consolation.

"Aw, Geffy!" She leaned her head on his and kissed his forehead.

Her bond with Geoffrey started since he was only a year old. There was an infamous adult female Irish Wolfhound in the village, a stray. She was sickly but not old. One day she was shown to be pregnant. She had her litter of three pups. Two of which died, followed soon by the mother.  Luckily, it was after he was fully weaned. Geoffrey soon became a scavenger. A pup who stole food from the food market and was quickly labeled "the mutt from Hell." One day, when Gemma was 12, her father, may he rest in peace, brought her to the village market on market day. She was amazed by the townsfolk because she wasn't used to poverty, seeing as how she lived in a beautiful manor. She walked along looking at food when she heard a commotion to her right. She looked over to see a puppy cowering against a wall with a link of sausages in his mouth and a butcher, with the reddest face she had ever seen, holding a butcher knife up to him. Gemma screamed, dropping her rabbit fur hand muffs and ran over to the dog, wrapping her arms around him. The butcher was shocked but his face quickly went enraged. "Get out of the way, girl! This is none of your business!" She looked over at the butcher through her brunette ringlets. Tears were pouring down her face. Her father ran over. "Gemma?" He looked at the butcher who had the knife raised to Gemma and the dog. "What's going on?" Her father was mad.

"I'll tell you what! That girl of yours is getting herself in the middle of things she oughtn't!"

"What is the problem, exactly?" Her father spoke evenly.

"That mutt stole my sausage links and I am getting them back!"

"Is that all?" He raised an eyebrow and held back a smile, but Gemma could see the humour behind his eyes. She hid her smile in the neck of the dog. "Well,I shall have to pay for the links, then."

"What?" The butcher said stupidly.

"Everyone has to eat." Her father approached the pup and held his hand out. The pup sniffed and licked his hand. Her father smiled. "Who does this dog belong to?"

"No one. It's a stray."

Gemma saw something shine behind her father's eyes. "Oh, really?"

Gemma fell asleep and awoke to an empty space next to her. "Geffy?" She mumbled, still groggy. She looked over to the window and saw him resting his front paws on the window sill and staring out at something. "What is it, Geffy?" Gemma got out of bed and stood next to Geoffrey at the window. She saw a black silhouette fly over a neighboring house and to inside a room. A couple minutes past when she saw the shadow leave with a child in its hand.

"Oh, my!"

Geoffrey whined next to her and licked her hand.

"Is--is that a shadow?"