+ + + + + Set Up

She was on her side, pulled into the man's body, with his left arm under her body coming up to circle her waist, holding her to him. His right arm rested across her arm and his hand gently cradling her breasts. She could feel his soft breath on her neck.

She tried to shift, but the man pulled her in even closer. He began to circle his thumb around a nipple and she felt him begin to ply kisses into the nape of her neck, sending shivers down her body. She also felt him begin to press against her hind side and it was pretty clear that he had a little morning wood going for him. Good grief. She had to get out of this.

"Wake up, wake up, wake up!" she realized she was talking in whisper tones, but trying to get some volume to arouse, no, not arouse (too late for that), wake up the man. There was some shifting and she was able to turn herself around to see her bed partner.

Blue eyes met dark, dark brown ones.

"Oh no." If there were one hundred men, hell, one thousand men, in Storybrooke, in Maine, who would have been the one thousandth she would have wanted to wake up, naked, in a strange bed with? Well, here he was.

"Gold," she said. She watched him. He was struggling to clear his eyes, and probably his head too. She saw him lick his lips, swallow and grimace. She saw him glance across the room, following the same progression of reasoning that she had. She knew that complicated, convoluted brain was processing the total situation. . . a strange room, clothes scattered, no recall of events, naked woman.

He delicately released her. "Ms. Swan." He pulled himself up to a sitting position and only hesitated a moment before speaking. "Apparently, we have been drugged."

"My thoughts exactly," she agreed, also sitting up, pulling a sheet up around herself. "What, who, why?"

He continued considering. "Maybe some type of Rohypnol compound. Regina. To cause harm to you and me. What's the last thing you remember?"

"At Ashley's and Sean's wedding party. I was off duty. Somebody offered me a drink. I turned them down and got a ginger ale. I then remember feeling really, really hot. I left the party. . . " she couldn't remember anything more.

"I recall getting a single glass of white wine. Then, like you, getting really hot and leaving the party. I remember I came upon you on the path. You had removed your jacket and you were unbuttoning your shirt. I remember thinking it was an odd behavior on your part."

"Good lord, I hope I didn't disrobe right out in the garden."

"I hope not," he agreed. "Judging by the clothes I can see from here, we must have been mostly attired when we entered this room, unless we just carried our garments with us."

Emma leaned over her side of the bed and at the bottom of the bed she was ble to retrieve some silk boxers, which she tossed over to him. "Do you see any of my underwear?" she asked him, not finding any of her own undergarments on her side of the bed.

He pulled on his underwear and swung his legs out of his side of the bed, got out of the bed and went for his pants, which were near the door. "Yes, ma'am." He didn't make any comment as he handed her a red lace thong and matching lace brassiere. Emma wasn't sure she was any better off putting them back on her self than she had been when she wasn't wearing anything. His eyes skimmed her warmly, appreciation evident.

"A gentleman would avert his eyes," she couldn't stop herself from saying.

He gave a short laugh. "Maybe, but I think he would still peak. And we both know, I am no gentleman. You're a beautiful woman, Ms. Swan."

Emma found her own pants below the bottom of the bed and slipped them on, grateful for some protection. She watched while he checked his wallet, wondering what he was doing. After checking his wallet, he turned back to her. "Ms. Swan, are you on the pill?"

She wanted to sputter that was personal information, but realized why he was asking. "No, I don't get out often enough."

"Well, unless you carry condoms, I suspect that we engaged in sexual activity without any protection." He held up several intact packets that he had pulled from his wallet.

"Oh shit," she said succinctly.

"I would suggest a morning after pill, unless you want to risk a pregnancy, although I would also assure you that I could and would financially support any offspring that might result from last night."

She gave him a tight smile. "You're a real winner. I'll stop by the drug store on the way out." She had found her shirt and put it on, feeling a little more sure of herself than she had earlier. "I feel like we've been set up. What are we going to do?"

Gold had sat back on the bed and leaned back against the pillow. He had put on his dark shirt, not quite buttoning it up to the collar. He looked younger and more relaxed than she typically saw him. She watched as his eyes flicked back and forth as if he were playing out different scenarios and possible futures which he was.

"As I see it, we have three options. Regina is most likely hoping that you will cry Rohypnol rape, which would probably result in me going to jail – who would believe you would willingly get into my bed – it must have been drugs and coercion. That would get me out of the way, leave her free reign. I imagine it would only be a short while until she was able to concoct something against you, and you would lose Henry."

"Lovely, well, I saw your face this morning. You had no idea of what had happened. You're as much a victim as I am. And you aren't the type for Rohypnol. I would think you'd just make a woman disappear, have her in a dungeon somewhere with some shackles. And when you got tired of her I suspect I'd meet you in the forest some early morning with you carrying a shovel burying some odd body part.

"I wouldn't do shackles," he remarked, blandly. "They break the skin and make it bleed. The skin doesn't heal up because of the continual abrasion. If I wanted to enjoy a woman's body, I wouldn't mar it so."

Emma grimaced, "Thanks for sharing that. . . I guess. Back to our dilemna. Why can't we just tell people the truth?"

He smiled. "Ah, Ms. Swan. Open honesty, the best policy. The second possibility. I think Regina would also be happy with this option. I can see the headlines in The Daily Mirror, "We elected her to stand up to Mr. Gold, but she chooses to . . ."

Emma finished for him, "lay down with him."

He nodded. "Even though you put me in jail that one time, I think that sleeping with me would go a ways towards undermining your hard position against me. And I'm sure there are incriminatory pictures. Most likely, that path would lead to a recall election for some. . . whatever reason. You would lose your job and likely not have a way to support yourself here and, again, lose Henry."

Emma sighed and sat back on the bed. "Then what do we do?"

He sat quietly. Emma looked back at him and saw he was watching her. "Well?" she asked. "Your brain is used to coming up with devious, underhanded schemes. What do you suggest?"

He smiled at her. "I'm not sure you will like it."

"I like the idea of losing contact with Henry even less. What do you have?"

He spoke slowly. "Public displays of affection are tolerated between married couples and, " he paused, "especially, newly engaged couples. I'm suggesting we announce our engagement."

Emma was not convinced. "What good will that do? People won't believe I've willingly agreed to that."

"Not at first. They will think I've got some hold over you. But soon, they will see that it is you who has had a tempering effect on me. People who owe me will come to you as an intermediary and you will graciously intervene with me. . . and you will be successful in convincing me to give people extra time to pay their bills, or waive the interest on their loan or," he grinned at her a little scary, "keep their first born."

"Do you think people will believe that?" she was dubious.

"A lot depends on how good an actress you can be. Can you convince people you're in love with me?"

"Can you convince people you love me?" she shot back.

"Oh, I don't have to. I'm a heartless bastard. I want to marry you for your lovely body and the only way I can get you in my bed is through a marriage proposal," he explained, and then added more kindly. "I'm afraid the burden will fall upon you, my sweet. You will have to convince people that you have seen a side of me they have not, that I'm really a worthwhile person, maybe with a heart of gold buried deep down within me. Think you can do it?"

"That's going to be hard, but I'm pretty motivated. I don't want to lose my son." She had a sudden second thought. "How do we get out of the engagement?"

He closed his eyes. "Well, again, I see several possibilities. We get married."

"Unlikely, since I don't really like you."

"Or you realize that I really am a heartless bastard and you dump me. Your friends get to say, 'I told you so,' and you get on with your life and I with mine."

Emma nodded. "That sounds most likely. So, we start out by sharing our happy news with a few good friends and then The Daily Mirror." Emma started out the door and had a memory flash. She and Gold, here at the door, pulling off each other's clothes, she kissing him down his chest, pulling down his pants, kneeling before him and continuing on down to his. . . Oh lord.

"Are you alright?" he had noticed the change.

She was uncomfortable sharing. "I . . . I just had a flash of memory of something we did right here, last night. Something I did to you. Jes. We were so drugged."

Gold stood a moment searching his memory. It was a long moment before he spoke, "You took my pants off and then performed. . ."

She interrupted. "Yeah, I think I did." She actually felt herself blushing.

"Well, I hope at some point, I reciprocated." He shook his head. "I don't know if it's good or bad that we don't remember." After a brief moment, he corrected himself. "No, it's bad. I've spend the night with one of the most beautiful women in town and I'm struggling to remember any part of it. I feel cheated."

Before they left the room, he pulled off an antique silver ring, very old, with several small diamonds. "Your engagement ring," he explained. "Bring it by the shop later and I will help get it sized for you.

"It's beautiful," she had seen him wear this particular ring often and had admired it.

"You will appreciate that this was part of the price Regina paid me to bring your son to Storybrook," he shared with her.