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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Rumplestiltskin (Mr. Gold): I'm a fan of true love, dearie. And, more importantly, what it creates (A Land Without Magic).
Belle studied herself in the mirror on the ladies' dressing room door: midnight blue blazer with gray stitching; froth of red ruffled blouse showing at the throat; cobalt blue skirt with red and gray bands in a diagonal plaid; Oxford blue stockings; and gray, wedge-heeled ankle boots. She hoped the first outfit she'd bought with her own money would meet with Rumple's approval.
Whatever the verdict, Belle was glad she'd changed. After six weeks in conveniently short skirts, she had found wearing her gorgeous yellow gown awkward. As she draped the seventy-inch garment bag over her arm, she realized it might be even more awkward to carry. Rumple would be driving them to Pinocchio's party. She could ask to stop at her place to drop off her dress. Tonight was as good a night as any to show off the cute loft that came with her librarian job.
Belle gathered Rumple's dozen roses from the dressing table and buried her nose in their fragrance. Be honest! Tonight's the perfect night.
Humming "When the Nightingale Sings," she exited the dressing room and started up the hall back to Rumple.
At the far end, where the hall emptied into the foyer, was that Mr. Smee? Such an odd fellow—part hooligan, part puppy dog. Running into him was always awkward. Ever since she'd made up with her father, Mr. Smee had seen her as his resource: What could he do to get a raise from Moe? What was the best way to ask Moe for a day off? What would it take for Moe to trust him with a key to the cash register?
Belle grimaced. Certainly, she'd forgiven Mr. Smee, but she still found it hard chatting with a man whose introduction had been a kerchief soaked in chloroform.
As Belle was considering whether to slip out the side door she heard footsteps. Glancing back, she saw Jefferson. Just the man she did want to see. With the proper nudge, Rumple would renew their acquaintance. Making the effort to cheer up his old colleague would do him good, too.
Turning, Belle asked, "Remember me?"
"I remember." Jefferson stopped so close that she had to tilt her head to see his face. "You were supposed to tell Mr. Gold that Regina locked you up. I've never killed anybody. I thought he would."
Kill Regina? Is that why you set me free? To stir up Rumple? Belle swallowed. "Revenge has a way of hitting wide of the mark."
"Revenge?" Jefferson's eyebrows rose. "Rumplestiltskin doesn't do revenge. He settles accounts. He guarantees equity. He makes things right."
Jefferson opened his eyes so wide Belle began to see why they called the hatter mad. Nervously, she wondered whether she should beckon Mr. Smee. Then she noticed a wad of white cloth under Jefferson's arm: a bunny suit. Fifth-grader Paige had worn it when she'd led a group of kindergartners in a rousing rendition of "Here Comes Peter Cottontail." Belle's apprehension melted into sympathy. She remembered how tenderly Jefferson had hugged the stuffed animal his daughter had touched. "Has Rumple known you a long time?"
