A/N: It's been awhile since our last Gold POV chapter! As you can see, it's following the show, with some nice Ruby/Gold twists to come ;P

Mr. Gold was standing in front of his shop, waiting for his ogre-turned-human henchman to show up with the security camera printout he'd ordered him to fetch.

The morning was mostly sunny, with the softest breeze coming and going as it pleased. He had gone to bed late last night, exhausted beyond belief. He had been formulating a plan to use after Ruby had thrown an unexpected wrench into his previous, carefully laid out version. Usually, he preferred to take his time with such affairs, because rushing things led to overlooking very important details, which he detested.

Still, he was good at recognizing an opportunity when one presented itself, and the idea of having two people indebted to him instead of one appealed to him very much. This plan was risky, though, because it entailed bending the rules of his yesterday's deal with Ruby.

He frowned, still uncertain about how he felt about Miss Riding Hood, who was proving more and more of a mystery. She was getting more inquisitive, which he didn't like one bit. Having the mighty Huntress indebted to him was a splendid thing, but he wasn't quite sure whether the price he was paying for it was to his advantage anymore.

He had never intended to tell her about Bae. To be perfectly honest, the details of his confession were still a bit blurry to him. Her choice of words was impeccable, otherwise how could she have weaseled the truth out of him?

He had only ever told one person about his son.

Only one.

He didn't count the people from the village; they knew because they'd lived side by side for years. She… she was different. He chose to tell her.

Now that he thought about it, he wasn't sure about that anymore. Why did he tell her? He didn't plan telling her that, not then, not ever, so why did he? What did she do to convince him otherwise?

She was kind. She didn't judge. She seemed harmless, as if she wanted to know only because she wanted to make him feel better.

He sighed. There was no point thinking about that now. Yet, he couldn't help but see similarities where he failed to before. Both women were very brave, strong and independent. Both of them succeeded against impossible odds, in situations where most men would falter and give in. He respected that.

But, for all their similarities, they weren't the same.

Ruby was livelier, but less likely to appreciate a fine book, less likely to daydream about a faraway land, and her smile never lit up her eyes as much…

These thoughts were dangerous. The past was attempting to catch up with him again.

Well, he wouldn't let it. Not again.

He was all the more surprised by the fact that he had slept well, despite how brief it had been. Even more perplexing was the fact that he'd felt refreshed in the morning. It was quite baffling, especially once his near-concussed state was taken into account.

The only explanation he could find was that his brain needed rest. Before he could ponder on other explanations to his mysterious restfulness, Dove came into view.

"Do you have it?" Gold asked a tad impatiently.

With a slight bow, the man handed him a manila envelope.

Gold perused its contents; aside from the tape, there were 5 printouts, only 2 of which showed Miss Boyd's face clearly enough. Mildly satisfied, he dismissed the ogre.

Once he had tucked the envelope into his safe and locked it, he pocketed one of the photographs with a clear view of the maid's thieving face and walked out.

He wondered how Snow White's daughter would react upon seeing him first thing in the morning, and he was already looking forward to it. The time had come to set this plan in motion.

He knocked and waited. He had no way of knowing whether Emma would be awake, but her mother was an early bird, so the likelihood of at least one of the two opening the door was high.

He felt pleased to see the mellowed, watered-down version of Snow quiver a bit at his unexpected arrival. It was best to cut to the chase and not allow her time to think.

"Miss Blanchard, is Miss Swan here?"

Mary Margaret turned pale, visibly confused by his knowledge of Emma's whereabouts. Sadly, he didn't have much time to enjoy watching her figure out how he knew that.

He stood, waiting as the teacher gaped; she was probably attempting to call Emma, but the blonde saved her the trouble by sailing into view. He extended his hand and said:

"Hi, my name is Mr. Gold. We met briefly upon your arrival?"

Miss Swan seemed a bit confused, but replied anyways: "I remember."

"Good."

He calculated the right amount of hesitation needed and proceeded:

"I have a proposition for you Miss Swan. I, uh… I need your help. I'm looking for someone."

He was displeased to see Snow lingering in the doorway, with her eyebrows arched and expressions of confusion and curiosity showing on her face. He cast her an indifferent look to show her she wasn't needed in this conversation.

"Really?" Emma seemed baffled, and glanced at Mary Margaret.

Finally, the meddling mother got the hint.

"Uhm…" she inhaled sharply, "You know what? I'm gonna go jump i-in the bath."

She must have noticed the expectant looks from both of them and found it wise to excuse herself, even though the execution was pathetic. He could see it in her daughter's eyes as well, that's how transparent it had been. The stutter was a nice touch though, he had to admit.

Gold reached into his pocket: "I have a photo."

He handed it over, attempting to sound as helpful and concerned as possible.

"Her name is Ashley Boyd, and she's taken something quite valuable of mine."

He found it quite amusing to watch as recognition flashed across her face. Well, she was more than partly to blame for this; it was only fair to make her aware of that.

"So, why don't you just go to the police?" Emma asked.

"Because, uh…" he searched for the appropriate words: "She's a confused young woman. She's pregnant, alone, scared."

Emma seemed sympathetic, which he deemed excellent and continued:

"I don't want to ruin this young girl's life, but I just want my property returned."

"What is it?" She asked softly.

He could see that she was getting a clearer picture now. But he had no intention of telling her the truth; after all, he needed her to take the job. Turning around to give the impression that he was scared of being overheard, he answered:

"Well, one of the advantages of you not being the police is discretion. Let's just say it's a precious object and leave it at that."

His tone allowed for no objections, and Emma seemed subdued enough not to pursue the matter.

"When did you see her last?"

This is when he knew she took the bait. Every businessman knows how to recognize that tone.

"Last night." He motioned to move his hair out of the way: "It's how I got this."

He showed it off for a moment longer for emphasis, and then looked at her to see the effect. Satisfied, he looked away again, thus explaining his would-be surprise at her actions. She needed to know this was her fault, that way, if she was anything like her parents, her sense of responsibility would flare up, forcing her to move exactly as he wanted her to.

Feigning puzzlement, he continued:

"So unlike her… was quite wound up, rambling on and on about changing her life…"

He shook his head in disbelief and purported regret: "I have no idea what got into her."

Much to his satisfaction, Emma looked uncomfortable and guilty at the same time – good, who asked her to fill Cinderella's head with nonsense in the first place?

"Miss Swan, please help me find her? My only other choice is the police," he lowered his voice, giving an impression of wanting to appear concerned for Miss Boyd's wellbeing, "and I don't think anyone wants to see that baby born in jail, now, do they?"

It all seemed almost too easy when he saw Emma nearly teary eyed, obviously flashing back to her own past, folding her arms across her chest defensively.

"No, of course not." She answered dejectedly.

"So, you'll help me, then?"

She pondered for a brief moment and said: "I will help her."

Mr. Gold put up a façade of being relieved and all but whispered: "Grand."

Before he had a chance to conclude their deal, the blonde's son barged in, obviously in high spirits, as only a child can be at the sight of its mother.

"Hey, Emma! I was thinking we-" Gold watched the boy freeze at the sight of him.

Without thinking, he greeted the boy amicably.

"Hey, Henry! How are you?"

The boy gulped in discomfort and blurted out an "Oh-kay?" coupled with an obviously forced smile.

For reasons he couldn't quite explain, this both infuriated and saddened him.

"Good," he paused, his satisfaction dimmed, "give my regards to your mother, and, ah… Good luck, Miss Swan."

It was done, the trap was set. He closed the door behind him.