In Storybrooke, Mr. Gold strives to be the man Bae used to love--until Belle is kidnapped to Neverland. If he resumes his Dark One powers to save her, can he control them? In the Enchanted Forest, Emma battles ogres, zombies and her ex to get back h...
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Rumpelstiltskin(Mr. Gold): Question my motives all you like, dearie, but they shall remain mine. (The Cricket Game)
Smee had to hand it to the rusty biscuit tin—or at least the sinister mastermind that spoke through it. Its info was legit. No supernatural hazards guarded the backdoor to Mr. Gold's mansion—only a pin-and-tumbler lock and a deadbolt. In under three minutes, Smee's tension wrench, c-rake, and short hook had breached them both.
Of course, the voice behind the tin should recognize that partnering with Smee had been smart, too. Hadn't he been right all along that Mr. Gold was still the Dark One? His skin, eyes, and nails might not be worthy of the name crocodile, but he fairly reeked of black magic. That beauty of a Pontiac Streamliner Wagon had verified the attribute Smee envied most—invincibility. Only the Dark One has life eternal.
That is, unless Smee could find the mystical dagger the tin box said was sure to be in the Dark One's house. Smee wondered how much time he had to scurry and scavenge around the wizard's ridiculously large Victorian undisturbed. The first time he'd been here, he'd helped Moe help himself to antique knickknacks from the parlor. The second time, he'd spent an anxious hour strung up in the basement, spinning lies to the Dark One about the whereabouts of Captain Hook.
Well, this time Smee was in charge. He knew how to search for a hard-to-find object without getting caught. When he left, even the Dark One wouldn't guess he'd been here.
* * * * *
Inside Room 104, Mr. Gold took one look at the caster wheels on the bottom of the chair Charming expected him to use and sighed. With nothing to brace the rollers, the risk of a pratfall was too great. He'd learned long ago with Cora that one could never afford to look weak. Centering his cane in front of him for stability, he smiled.
"You prefer standing?" Charming asked.
"I wouldn't want to get too comfortable," Mr. Gold replied.
Charming rocked his chair back on two legs. "August likes to live close to the edge, doesn't he—talking to you that way."
"You mean... the quip? August wasn't directing it at me. He meant it for the sort of fool who believes a silly tale told to scare children. Someone like..." Mr. Gold raised his eyebrows, but Charming missed the point.
"As long as you didn't take it as an insult."
Mr. Gold shook his head. "I know you think I'm evil. I can live with that. But that you think I'm petty—that's really too much."
"Petty?"
"Think about it. Even if August had meant to insult me, what then? Have I ever—either here or in the Enchanted Forest—been known to take anyone to task over an insult? Is that my reputation? If I had retaliated every time someone verbally abused me since the curse broke, Storybrooke would be crawling with snails instead of people—and you would have been the first to spread your slime around."
