Tender Desires
Making sure his coat was straight. Fluffing up his hair. Coughing awkwardly, The Doctor looked at the piece of torn paper from a child’s exercise book that Mary had hastily scribbled her address on. Complete with directions from Granny's for the hundredth time and checked the address. Yes, he was definitely in the right place. Squaring his shoulders and standing up taller than he usually did he realised that he would rather be chasing a Dalek than have a dinner with three beautiful young ladies. What was wrong with him? He was not always like this! There was a time running down corridors would have been less than satisfactory. Mary did so remind him of Ian and Barbara though. As for Emma…
Eventually Mary opened the door: “Hello,” she sighed, “come in. The dinner will be along in a minute. The three of us has much to discuss.”
“Three?” the Doctor frowned, “could the Sheriff not join us?”
“Emma,” Mary said. The Doctor walked in and saw Emma looking a little worried. “Tell the Doctor what you told me.”
The Doctor, respecting this as a dinner invite, removed his coat and hung it on a peg. Turning around he noticed Emma stand there with a glass of wine. Complete with an anxious furrow of her brow: “You best sit down,” she advised. “This is going to be a bit complicated!”
Now the Doctor felt sick. From the mannerisms of these two women he knew something dark had happened: “Where is Nyssa?” he asked sitting down.
Closing her eyes and counting to ten, Emma sat down besides the Doctor. “I suppose there is no gentle way to put this…”
“... NO!” The Doctor interrupted in a roar. “NO! I won’t have her dead. She can’t be dead!”
Mary sat the other side of The Doctor and grabbed hold of his hand to calm and soothe the Doctor: “Nyssa is not dead!” she sighed. “And she is not lying in a coma covered in blood either.”
“Thank Rassilon for that!”
Rassilon? What a strange epithet! “What has happened,” Emma sighed, “is that Mr Gold seems to have taken a lecherous shine to Nyssa.”
The Doctor sighed: “How can he?” the Doctor laughed a little, “she is still a child.”
“Forgive me,” Emma said rather plainly, “but she is no child. In one day she has created an enemy in the Mayor,” The Doctor scoffed at this inconceivable notion. The only enemy Nyssa had was the Master: “Managed to shoot twelve fake targets - including blasting a bullet into an apple several paces back ala William Tell,” the Doctor tutted, he had hoped that Nyssa would have been weaned off her love of weaponry by now, “rescued a family of cats and,” here Emma put her glass of wine on the table, “managed to somehow fall in love with Mr Gold.”
“She cannot have!”
“He hung around the Sheriff’s office for half a morning just to make sure she was safe.”
“For that he has my blessing,” the Doctor said. “I am pleased someone has been looking after her.”
“I am trying, and clearly failing, to impart to you how this man operates.”
“So what is so bad about this Mr Gold?”
“Does the age gap not worry you?”
“She is my friend,” the Doctor smiled, “not my daughter. Now if you were to tell me she was in the Master’s clutches I would be worried.”
“The man is old enough to be her grandfather!”
“The Master is old enough to be everyone’s grandfather in this town,” the Doctor sighed.
Rolling her eyes Emma sat back: “Nyssa has decided to live with him.”
“WHAT?” The Doctor roared glaring at Emma. “LIVE with the Master?”
“No,” Mary said rolling her eyes. Firmly Mary squeezed the Doctor’s shoulders, “Nyssa is living with Mr Gold!”
“Well I may be new in this town,” the Doctor sighed. “But what is Mr Gold’s history with young women?”
Here Emma nodded to Mary for her to furnish extra details: “Well, he has been a batchelor for as long as I remember. Not so much as a hooker but,” Mary took the Doctor’s hand, “he stayed here last night. From what I can gather they had quite the chat and kissing was involved.”
The Doctor looked at Mary: “Has he ever hurt ANY woman in this town?”
“Not really,” Emma sighed, “but when I first got here I met a young woman - Nyssa’s age - she was pregnant,” The Doctor’s complexion paled slightly but in light of what he said before he could show no anxiety other than a baffled look, “no it was not his,” clarified Emma, “but he was paid by her ex-employer; whose son was the father, to take her baby away from her.”
“What happened?”
“Ashley managed to keep her child,” Emma smiled, “but that was only because I struck a deal with Mr Gold for her to be able to.”
“So,” the Doctor stood up, “what are we waiting for?”
“What do you mean?” Emma sighed.
“Let’s go to him and offer him a deal he cannot refuse!”
“That won’t work,” Mary sighed, “he only deals if he has an interest in it.”
“So?”
“So,” Emma said a little annoyed. Nyssa reassured her of the Doctor’s cleverness. At the moment he was behaving like a hotheaded teenager whose Prom Queen was dating the school geek, “judging from what I could read between their looks and actions I doubt that he would agree to the deal or,” she watched as he slumped back down in his seat, “that she would thank you for going there to rescue her!”
“She really is falling for a man she hardly knows?”
Sighing, Mary put an arm around the Doctor’s shoulders: “I am sorry,” she murmured, “but we just have to see how she is with time.”
As he sat there the Doctor was speechless with the thought that his young friend was alone, in a strange man’s house; and with no one being able to look out for her. Silence overtook the three of them. In the drowning quiet all The Doctor feared now was Nyssa’s safety. Still, was he right to have these worries? Nyssa was quite lovely companionship and he knew deep in his hearts she could never be his - so was his anxiety just jealousy? In begrudging contemplation, the Doctor realised that Mr Gold could offer Nyssa all the luxuries she required in life. A better style of life than he ever could. What if Nyssa was falling in love? It would be like losing Jo all over again, that’s what was so poignant about this situation. For he was in love with Jo Grant. Sweet, even tempered open minded Jo Grant.
Mary leaned her head on his shoulder as she noticed a single tear crawl down his face. The Doctor turned his cheek and rested it on Mary’s head. They sat there in a consoling embrace. Emma turned her mouth down at the corners. What would someone like Mr Gold do to someone as sweetly innocent as Nyssa? In many of her travels she came across Mr Gold’s type quite often - and they all were only after one thing!
♥x♥x♥x♥x♥
“Well?” asked Nyssa as she slunk down the stairs in a sensible but rather sexy mid thigh length, light blue skirt and a beautiful frilly white blouse that stuck tight to her body; the ring caught the light of her eyes, “how did you - know this was - my size?”
Resisting the urge to gulp and loosen his tie ala Bugs Bunny, Mr Gold just stood there leaning on his cane glancing appreciatively at her. “I happen to be extremely perceptive,” Mr Gold replied.
“Now, um. What is normal in these situations?”
“I am making dinner why do you not just walk around and acquaint yourself with your new home.”
Awkwardly Nyssa gulped: “My bedroom?”
“Is it not satisfactory?”
“Oh it is lovely. Very um, opulent. Not used to that kind of grandeur.”
“Well, I could put you in the shed if you feel that is better!” Wincing as soon as he said that and was about to apologise but was wonderfully surprised at the sound of Nyssa chuckle.
Slowly, taking everything in, Nyssa walked around the living room. “Oh by the Keeper’s Wisdom!” she exclaimed jumping up and down clapping her hands. “Flowers!” childish excitement shone in her eyes as she felt magnetised to his spacious back garden, “Oh my and ivy. Trees. Grass! A pond!”
“You have not seen a garden before?”
“My home was particularly florabundant,” Nyssa sighed, “oh it looks so lovely!”
“Well,” Mr Gold sighed, “what are you waitin for?”
“I do not …”
“My personal paradise is calling to your heart,” he leaned his head to his side and was so in love with her enthusiasm, “go on! Explore! My home is your home!”
Excited, Nyssa ran up the stairs. Stopping for just a second to tiptoe up and peck him on the cheek. Blinking but smiling Mr Gold waited for her to appear again. From his position he could hear various thumps and bumps indicating that Nyssa was rummaging around her wardrobes. Silence proved she had found a suitable pair. Next second he saw her feet through the intricately mahogany wood carved balustrades. Even her feet were pretty, Nyssa had chosen a pair of hard soled but lovely blue slippers with pearl detail. Accentuating both her skirt and her blouse but, rather enchantingly, her eyes too.
“I have not sat in a garden for a long time. Really being able to appreciate the beauty,” Mr Gold smile gave nothing away. Yet, inside - the beast growled, roared and clawed to get her and make Nyssa his. “I can also distill their properties and make healing tinctures out of them.”
“I am pretty sure you could.”
“You do not have anywhere I can do that?”
“Well, why don’t we see how things turn out before we go into that?” Mr Gold sighed, leaning across Mr Gold raised his hand to tuck a stray tendril of hair behind her ear and cupped her chin: “What are you waiting for?” he murmured again, “skedaddle, the garden is waiting for ye, dear.”
Immediately, he moved aside and Nyssa ran out to enjoy something rare and awesome in her life. The simplicity of walking amongst dewy grass. Glancing at individual flora. To breathe in their personalities. Mr Gold felt his heart beat for the first time in 28 years. Could it be possible that Nyssa was sent to him by design rather than by chance?
Moments later Nyssa was sat outside on the edge of a pond lazily dragging her hand through the cool water playing with some fish. Chuckling at the little ones wriggling their translucent fins trying to escape her touch. Closing her eyes she took a deep breath of the heady scents: Tuberose, jasmine, the various rose bushes surrounding the edges of the garden. Lilac bushes particularly excited her. Giddy with the aromas enveloping her senses. For the first time in over a year she felt truly at home. Quietly, Nyssa hummed a Traken lullaby as she danced amongst the lacewings and fireflies.
Mesmerised Mr Gold watched from the Kitchen window. With each passing second the joy in his heart grew. So distracted by his beautiful guest he felt a sharp sting as he was prepping the vegetables. Wincing with pain he ran his finger under the cold tap and wrapped some kitchen towel around it and quickly wound some random string around it. Hurriedly, he diced the onions. Julienned the carrots. Sliced the tomatoes. Chopped the courgettes.
Once done he glanced back out of the window where Nyssa was now swaying to another melody that only she knew. Weaving her fingers and wrists in intricate patterns in the air. Allowing her own rhythm to flow through her body. Fluidly, Nyssa seemed to charm all the flying insects in the area with her movement. Lowering his eyes Mr Gold furrowed his brow as troubled thoughts passed through his mind.
Princess, he sighed, you really do belong in the flowers. Though he had a hatred of fairies, Nyssa would have been an exception. What flower would you belong to, my dear? An early eager owl hooted in the sky above and Nyssa opened her eyes. Elegantly Nyssa swayed up to a tuberose and really breathed in her scent. Stroking the stem she tiptoed up and whispered something to the plant. Then Nyssa walked up to a still awake rose flower and buried her nose in the center. Relaxing, calming, and beguiling. Shaking his head with a warm smirk Mr Gold concentrated on cooking the rest of the dinner.
If Mr Gold knew Nyssa was being observed upon by someone else he would have got her in there and barricaded the doors. For she was indeed being watched by someone. That someone laughed silently in the shadows and the eyes widened with joy: “Oh my dear little child,” he purred, “you do have great taste and an eye for power. Now I understand,” the spy tilted his head, “I do need you. I can get you right where you belong: at my side, as my consort and Empress. Together; my beautiful maiden, we shall terrify the masses and enchant them at the same time. Do not worry, my dear,” he sneered, “I will soon reveal Gold’s true colours to you.”
All Mr Gold thought as he watched his new house guest stroking and whispering to his plants was: What are the chances that someone as lovely and tender as her is in my home? I must protect her at all costs. No deal is worth it to lose this one. No one is going to be good enough for her. Least of all me. I am willing to try. I am willing to give all of myself to this one. I shan’t make the same mistake again. I just can’t!
Once Nyssa bathed enough in the moonlight she walked back into Mr Gold’s house and started looking around: “I love how cosy it is in here and yet so big. It looks like you put a lot of effort into your home.”
“I take pride in all the things I do, Nyssa.”
“Your garden is absolutely charming.”
“I think we have to agree on that one too,” he raised his hand to taste the sauce.
“You’re hurt?” Nyssa gasped noticing the badly wrapped bandage.
“It’s nothing.”
“It’s something,” Nyssa said. “Where is your first aid kit?”
“In the bathroom cabinet.”
Immediately Nyssa ran up the stairs and located it. Once in the kitchen she picked his hand up. Gazing at him with an exasperated expression, Nyssa unwound the rough and, quite frankly, stupid bandage Mr Gold had rushed on. Examining the wound she stroked around the cut to sense his reaction. Hissing through his teeth Nyssa looked up: “You should have called me back in to deal with this.”
“You were so happy out there I did not want to ruin your first experience of true bliss.”
“This could have been a lot worse,” Nyssa scolded tenderly. Turning the tap on, Nyssa placed the wound under the tap again and grabbed a clean tea towel and wrapped it up.
“Isn’t this a bit silly?”
“No!” she said curtly.
Bringing the finger around she found some special cotton pads. Gauze. Thin microporous tape. Nyssa rubbed up and down his finger as she was picking up the pads. About three. More blood squeezed out the wound. Bringing his finger to the cold water again she waited until the blood was just a thin trickle. Grabbed some kitchen towel and tenderly dried the finger. Tutting she picked up some cotton pads and placed them over the wound. Keeping his finger wrapped in her tiny hand, Nyssa picked at the roll of microporous tape. With a couple of rough strips Nyssa sealed the pads into position. Then Nyssa rolled out some of the gauze. Cut to what she thought was needed. Bringing his hand closer towards her, Nyssa folded the bandage at an edge. Then began folding it in zig-zag movements about 5 times, then placed the flat part on top of the pads. Quickly, she wrapped the rest of the bandage around his wound. Concentrating so hard caused Nyssa to breathe heavily and Mr Gold could not help but notice how the rise and fall of her chest causing the blouse to become taut against her flesh. Begone Beast, he thought directing his gaze elsewhere. His own throat tightened. Oh Nyssa, you cannot believe what you are doing to me! When she had reached to an appropriate length, Nyssa slit the end into half and used the two halves to use to properly secure the bandage by wrapping them around his finger. Once that was accomplished Nyssa tied the halves into a neat, indiscreet little bow. Just to make sure it was truly secured Nyssa taped the bottom and top ends of the wrap.
“There,” she smiled warmly. Bringing the finger up to her mouth she tenderly kissed the bandage, “all better!”
“Thank you,” he sighed. You will always be mine. Now he was gazing into her wide concerned eyes: “how did you know what to do?”
Shyly, Nyssa hunched her shoulders up trying to hide her other talent; “I am trained to be a Nurse,” she sighed. “Tomorrow morning we should see what we can do next.”
“So you are a sharp shooting, animal rescuing; mystery solving Nurse!”
Warmly laughing, Nyssa tidied everything up. Before she turned around she felt his hands rest on her hips: “Seemingly,” she sighed. Nyssa turned around and that meant that Mr Gold released his hands from her person. Folding her arms across her chest, Nyssa tilted her head to the side, he can not be the monster Emma and Ruby say he is. Too kind. Too gentle. Too handsome. In some respects he was like her gorgeous father. Laying her body flat against the cabinets Nyssa glanced into Mr Gold’s hot eyes: Make love to me, please. She thought. Take me the way that I have only read about in books Tegan leant me. Kiss me. Just looking at you makes me feel hot and sick at the same time. I know you are my only cure.
“Well,” she sighed.
“Well what?”
“What’s for dinner?”
“Something I like very much,” Mr Gold replied.
“That is?”
“Ratatouille!”
“I hope it tastes better than it sounds.”
“It does.”
♥x♥x♥x♥x♥
Once they had eaten dinner Mr Gold told Nyssa to look around and to treat this as her home. So he was not surprised to find her holding the most treasured possession he had. His heart plummeted when he noticed Nyssa was not smiling.
Instead she looked at the object in her hand rather pensively and tears glistened in her eyes. What was that about? Why would their chipped cup make Nyssa cry? What connection did Nyssa have to exhibit that emotion in her eyes?
Stroking the china cup Nyssa then wiped the tears from her face. Trying to look happy Nyssa affected a slight smile of sympathy at Mr Gold and smiled: “She must have been very special.”
Mr Gold glanced with puzzlement at Nyssa: “How do you know that I own this due to a woman?”
Reverently Nyssa gingerly placed the cup back in the cabinet. Solemnly, she put her lips to her fingers. Tenderly Nyssa stroked along the lip of the vessel with the finger she kissed. Almost as if she felt kissing the cup with her lips would have degraded its value to Mr Gold. “I sense these things,” Nyssa sighed. “She was very beautiful.”
“You can even get what she looked like?” Mr Gold limped up to Nyssa and closed the door of the cabinet, “Quite a talent, dear.”
Blushing Nyssa turned around and raised her eyes with a gentle smile: “You must care for Belle very deeply.”
“Her name, now,” Mr Gold chided, “you don’t need to read people’s journals obviously.”
“I am sorry. I did not mean to!” Nyssa exclaimed; worried she had angered him.
“I’m not mad at you for knowing her name,” How could I be? You are the first person to utter it for 28 years. You said it so sweetly, Nyssa - I wish you would have known her! “Just a little surprised.”
“I wish I could control it,” Nyssa sighed, “usually it happens when someone has something to say or like last night when I get brief glimpses of oncoming peril. Holding that cup,” Nyssa shivered and rubbed her arms up and down. “Just brought to my mind an image of a girl similar in height and build,” she gulped. “Hair not as bushy as mine and a nicer colour. Bluer eyes than the oceans,” now she was well aware of Mr Gold looking directly at her, “then her name sort of popped in my head. Belle,” Nyssa bit her lip, “what else could it be?” a bitter tone accompanied with a shrug of her shoulders helped Nyssa finish her explanation, “There are traces of her all around that cup! Oh and she is Australian which is amazing!”
“Why is her being Australian amazing?”
“My best friend is Australian. Brisbane - Belle sounds like she is further south of the country.”
“You really are special,” declared Mr Gold.
Suavely, Mr Gold took her hand and led her back to the sitting room. On an oak table stood a huge candle decoration that held three white candles in sconces. Highlighting the two glasses of freshly poured red wine. A rioja of finest pedigree. Some flowers he had allowed Nyssa to snip from his garden stood happily in a vase. A little mystery box was by the side of her glass.
“Thank you, Mr Gold.”
“I tell ye what,” Mr Gold smiled with a cheeky wink as he lowered her on the squishy cream sofa, “I think, as we are residing in the same house, you can give me a first name. Mr Gold is far too formal for us now.”
Guard your heart Nyssa, her father used to say. Always be kind - but firm in denying them your soul and your body. Never be naive to think they would be hurt by your negative response to their attentions. She was 12 then. At the point when he had started falling in love with her. Nothing was held back from her. At 4 he explained how she came to be, in genteel terminology. By 10 the information became in-depth on certain behavioural patterns of the act. By 12 all scientific knowledge about sex was imparted to her. Be careful, dear child, he said. Not all men abuse trust given to them by a sweet young women as you are to become. Then there are others who will tease your trust. They say they love you but all they want is to control you. Our civilisation is kind but we are just one corner of our world. Nyssa listened intently to her father as she was hearing his voice in her head now.
“Nyssa,” Mr Gold said, “are you well? You look pale?”
“I was just remembering some advice my father gave me when I was a child.”
“That was?”
“To be wary of male attention.”
“What was it about sitting here with me that recalled that to your mind?” Mr Gold handed her the other glass of wine.
“I do not know,” Nyssa smiled as she looked into his beautiful eyes, “new to this kind of situation,” taking the glass gingerly, lest she should spill, “I am normally running for my life right about now.”
“Forgive me for saying this but I fear the Doctor is putting you at great personal risk,” Mr Gold sat back with his own glass of wine. “You die all your culture goes with you and that would be a terrible thing.”
Cautiously Nyssa sipped the wine. Her head buzzed with the sensation of her first taste of alcohol: “The Doctor does everything he can to keep me safe.”
“And locking you in your room has not occurred to him?”
“He needs help with what he does, the Doctor - to my knowledge - has never been on his own.”
“Well,” Mr Gold sighed, “what happens if he IS on his own?”
“He can make some very wrong decisions,” Nyssa said. “He will even kill,” she lowered her eyes. “He needs companions to remind him that he is essentially kind.”
Mr Gold blinked a little. Interesting. Sipping his own glass he looked at what Nyssa had chosen to wear to bed. For he told her she could relax. He wanted to make Nyssa feel wanted in his presence. At first he had arched his eyebrow at her picks. Shimmering iridescently in the warm candle light, the silk light pink chemise played cheekily with her every slight movement. A matching robe reached to just above her knees. A pair of pink fluffy slippers dangled playfully off her feet. Hair was hastily put together in a tortoiseshell crocodile clip, loose tendrils framed her cute face. Sexy? Adorable? Beautiful? Gorgeous? Even ethereal could not describe the woman sitting with him. “Now,” he sighed, “have you thought of a name you would wish to call me by when we are alone in the house?”
“You do not have a first name?”
“Well,” he tilted his head to the side, watching her circling the glass making a little tune. “I will give you an initial for you to work from.”
Smiling Nyssa looked again at his dark angular features: “If you want me to christen you, then I shall.”
“The initial I will try you with will be … R?”
“Hmm,” Nyssa sat back laughing. “R. Gold?”
“Mr R Gold.”
“R … You do not seem like a Ronald,” he winced at that, “Did not think so… Robert?”
“Robert Gold, come on Nyssa!”
“Fine, fine, not Robert. Richard, then? Rich Gold?” he rolled his eyes, “Not Richard,” she drank more wine with confidence now, “Roland… Rolling In It?”
“You are this close to making me angry, dear!” Mr Gold said in mock sarcasm.
“All right,” she said, “I will try and take this seriously.”
Smiling Mr Gold watched her play with the side of her glass - her fingers teasing it the way he wished she could tease his skin. The kissing last night and this morning was rare and he was certain; deep down, she was repulsed! Kissing him back out of sympathy. Now she was on her own - within his mercy - he found he wanted to keep his hands to himself. Why could he not just live up to his scary reputation when it came to women? “Have you run out of R names already?”
“I am thinking.”
Closing her eyes Nyssa brushed her hair behind her ear and sat there meditating. Mr Gold wanted to keep that image of her in his mind forever. Debating about whether or not he should actually move in for a kiss. The flames flickered against her face highlighting her regal cheekbones. Her peach soft lips muttered quietly. The bottom lip was particularly tender looking. No, he sat back again. He decided that he had best leave her to play the game.
“Need another clue?” he whispered.
“No,” she whispered back. “R - m - s - n!” her lips uttered in a different tone of voice. A milder version of the one she uses when having a vision. No asthmatic breathing. “A type of cheese - Stilton… no, Stilt,” Mr Gold frowned; she was guessing his actual name. Should he stop her or… “like custard when cold it has a SKIN. Stilt Skin - the hide of a cow - Rump … Rump Stilt Skin…” well if he were to stop her it would be useless now. Besides he was enjoying this. No one had to guess his name for a long long time. “Rump Stilt Skin… RUMP sounds like Rumb;” he was beginning to feel a little turned on. “Rumb - he has my all - becomes Rumball… ” nearly there, he sighed, his hands quivered with the temptation to stroke her soft neck. Fully turned on now. “No, not Rumball or Rumpall … more like Hell!” Say it, Nyssa - say my name and mean it! “Rumb Hell,” Nyssa furrowed her brow - it wrinkled rather beautifully at the bridge of her nose: “No. Rump Hell. Without the H,” she sighed. “Rumpel” Mr Gold was rubbing his thumb against his forefinger trying to keep the agitation he felt under control. “Stilt” I need you to say my name, Nyssa. He was sitting on the edge of his seat. “Skin,” her shoulders slumped. “No,” she sighed, “not as three words - but as one,” her eyes snapped open. Gulping Mr Gold was gritting his teeth with the anticipation of hearing his name said for the first time in 28 years. Triumphantly, Nyssa swung her head around and exclaimed with a laugh. “You are Rumpelstiltskin!”
“You, my dear,” he sighed reaching his hand up to her hair. Desire danced in front of his eyes in the form of Nyssa. Tenderly Mr Gold toyed with Nyssa’s stray golden teasing tendrils, “are absolutely magnificent.”
“Just something you said this morning about making gold,” he arched an eyebrow as he drank more of his wine, “I remember my friend Tegan giving me a children’s story about a cunning dwarf who made a princess sign a contract or something - he made gold out of straw for her.”
Now his fingers were playing and teasing her neck, noting with pleasure the gooseflesh ripple on her skin after his touch. “Now you have met me,” he said quietly, “though the story is a little fabricated to say the least.”
“Certainly not an ugly little white bearded dwarf are you?”
“What do you mean, Nyssa?”
“Well, you are taller than I am,” her voice became quiet, “chiselled cheekbones,” Mr Gold tilted his head and gazed admiringly at her profile, her’s were also angular, “the deepest eyes I have ever seen, oceans of life reside behind your eyes” her hands reached up to his and took hold of it, “and your deportment is incredible.”
“You believe that is who I am and just not had extremely cruel parents?” his lips turned up at the corner lighting the dark mischief gleaming in the center of his black pupils. “Someone who can make things into gold? This morning you said yourself that it would be impossible.”
“Impossible does not mean improbable. As an example,” she sighed, “was there not a time electricity was considered a crazy notion?”
“Yes,” he gave an odd smile of approval at her logic. “But I can do terrible things with Magic!”
“Like …?”
“Murder people!”
Sipping her wine Nyssa lowered her eyelids as she took this in and sighed: “Yes,” she said as an echo to his own response to her logic: “Well, so could I with a gun.”
“I could turn people into animals!”
“What would you turn me into?”
“The normal response would be to recoil from me in horror. Not enable me by asking that question!”
“All right,” Nyssa sighed, “it was just a question.”
Smiling Mr Gold wondered for the thousandth time in as many seconds what she would have accomplished in his world: “I would offer you the opportunity to witness the miracle at close hand but…”
“... Something about Earth disables your power?”
“You are observant, what else have you gathered?”
“No one in this town are who they think they are and someone has to do something to reawaken their memories.”
“Again correct,” he sighed. “Is this your usual MO when you arrive somewhere?”
“M. O?”
“Modus Operandi,” he said. “What you normally do?”
“No, normally the Doctor works these things out,” Nyssa said drinking more wine. Quite giddy now. “For some reason being around you and Madam Mayor brings it to the fore so much more.”
“E = mc2!” Gold sighed loudly. “Maybe,” he looked at her profile, “ you are one of us but with a different talent? I tend to recognise those with ability, you have it.”
“I have psychic tendencies but why would you or Madam Mayor bring them out?”
“You can call her Regina here,” he said, “no one is going to think any the less of ye. In fact you can call her a bad tempered evil old tyrant if you want.”
“Regina,” Nyssa said firmly. “I did not say this earlier,” she gulped down the last of her drink.
Immediately he jumped to conclusions: “What did she do to you?” Gold asked his dark eyes seemed to glow with fury. “If she so much as laid a finger on ye I swear it…”
“She did nothing to me except pay for my drink. I think I … I think I scared her,” Nyssa stammered. “That was why she treated me the way she did during simulation.”
“Whatever you did to her - did not justify her behaving like a spoilt bully!”
“I had a mild vision in front of her,” Nyssa admitted in a whisper. “She warned me about watching my step.”
“I am glad you chose to stay with me,” Gold said. “If things get nasty I know how to handle Regina.”
“Yes I have no doubt of that,” Nyssa said, “are you sure you and Regina weren’t lovers at one time?”
“Perish the thought,” Gold said. “Maybe one time I harboured lust in my heart but now it is well and truly cooled.”
“Can I ask why people are obsessed with true love around here?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I’ve been asked a few times if I have a ‘true love’?”
“Everybody has a true love,” Mr Gold said, “and I am amazed that of all the people you presumably have met not one of them has felt their heart beat for the first time the moment you walk on the scene.”
“I told you,” Nyssa smiled setting her empty glass down and sat back, “I have not had time.”
“It is not a matter of time, dear!” he sighed moving closer to her, “when love hits you then it is like - well, when two components meet together.” Nyssa turned and watched him try to speak her language. It was rather sweet the way he blustered through: “Like um …” he was now aware that she was watching him intently. This only served to make him more uncomfortable, “well - what do you feel when you see a beautiful sunset? The sky painted in pinks, golds, purples - the shapes of the clouds scudding in the sky? The way it melts and gradates towards the horizon?”
Almost breathless at the image he had placed in her mind Nyssa wished she had some water now: “I feel humble at it’s simple yet complex beauty and wish I could memorise each and every one.”
“Well, love is like that. The strange marriage of simple complexity,” tentatively Mr Gold stretched his arm out. Curled his finger around Nyssa’s chin. Slowly, Mr Gold turned her face so he could look in her eyes. “The heart skips and flies. The mind feels warm in your head,” now their gazes were locked and Nyssa felt her lips throbbing with anticipation for a kiss. “Love makes no sense what.so.ever yet; suddenly, every little piece of the jigsaw puzzle that is your life falls into place,” with his long fingers he tilted her chin up. “Finding that person makes you feel complete and whole. Love,” he gulped down his urges, “Nyssa,” he leant forward and bumped his forehead against hers. Softly, Mr Gold rubbed his fingers along the jawline; pressing his thumb in the hollow of her cheek, massaging around her ear. The tips of his fingers were inching towards her hair; “is nothing to do with finding time,” he whispered. Nyssa was this close to wrapping her arms around his neck and climbing on his lap. Hot breath fell delightfully on her lips from his speech: “It is all about finding that part that is not you.” Do not stop stroking my cheek, she sighed, please do not stop talking. “Love is finding a better version of yourself.”
Nyssa sighed. Please, do not see me as little girl. I want to be a woman. “Belle was the better version of yourself,” she said. It was unfair. Why did she have to begin her love story with a man who still loved someone else?
“Everyone is a better version of me, Nyssa.”
“I admire the Doctor a great deal,” Nyssa sighed, “but I have come to realise that I am just one of many friends in his life. I am not the friend in his life.”
“That’s too bad,” Mr Gold sighed, resting his hand on her cheek rubbing his thumb along her cheek bone. Pressing it gently as he did so. Nyssa turned her head slightly and brushed her lips against his salty skin: “Because, as far as I am concerned; you my dear Nyssa, would complete any man’s world.”
The phone rang making them move apart: “I will get that,” Mr Gold got up. Once his back was turned Nyssa used the top of the robe to fan herself with, the wine and his touch made her breathless and warm.
“Mr Gold, here;” Nyssa rose up, walked to where her friend was standing and stood in front of him. “Oh that is cracking, thank you, David. Yes, my young friend will be pleased. No,” he sighed, “do not tell anyone else. My young friend has got to have some office gossip for tomorrow morning. Yes, well I will pay tomorrow. Thank you again, David.”
A curious frown showed on Nyssa’s face: “David?”
“From the animal shelter,” Mr Gold said. Panther like, even with a limp, Mr Gold moved towards her. Once near he put his hands on her arms. “Bad news, my profits are blown but good news the feline family are fine and just need some decent food, a warm bed and a good night sleep in the shelter to see if they are going to be well. Seems they had friends. Shortly after we left - a black fat cat, a sleek all over ginger tom, an obese fluffy russian blue, a siamese and two ordinary looking mogs: one lean and another stout, walked in and have stayed with them.”
“I thought cats were solitary creatures!”
“This is one popular female.”
Nyssa said almost bitterly. “She must be doing something right.” Jealous of a cat now?
“You are,” Mr Gold said. “Sweet Nyssa you are doing everything you should be doing. You’re compassionate. You listen. You lend your heart out to the nearest thing that is in danger and you - you - you …” he could not finish his thought straight away, kiss her! Show her you care about her. Do it you fool! “You are wonderful,” he finished a little lamely.
Lowering her eyes Nyssa shivered: “Not as wonderful as Belle,” she sighed. “I just hope there is an Alternate reality where we met instead.”
Then she walked past Mr Gold. “Nyssa,” Mr Gold turned his head saying with exasperation: “I did not say that.”
“All what you described, it was how Belle made you feel;” Nyssa’s voice was breaking with emotions she had never felt before. Jealousy was an emotion she was not familiar with and it made her feel uglier. “I am just Nyssa - the best friend. I have never been,” here Nyssa clicked her fingers: “That’s Nyssa,” tears fell out of the corner of her eyes and she angrily wiped them away, “she makes me feel like I have seen a thousand sunsets.”
Mr Gold stood dumbfounded. How could someone as beautiful as the angel before him ever doubt that she was not as lovely as a thousand different sunsets? “Yes that is how Belle made me feel,” he said with tears beginning to slip down his cheeks also, “but some people are lucky to find it twice or maybe three times. A true love is not the final love,” Mr Gold shook his head and grabbed Nyssa’s arms and gazed intently at her trying to make her smile. “If I was that sort of man I would take you and show you how you make me feel but I cannot. I have not apologised for kissing you. That, believe me, is nothing like me. I do not know what came over me.”
“There is absolutely no need to apologise for kissing me,” Nyssa said covering his hands with hers. “Tell me, am I old enough for you to show me how I make you feel?”
“Well yes,” he said, “both ethically and morally if we both consent then nothing is off the cards why is that … what … you … want?”
“If the Doctor is not and no one else seems to want to. You are the first person in the entire Universe, I am not exaggerating here, that has shown any kind of romantic interest in me.”
“I am sorry, Nyssa,” Mr Gold sighed. “But there are younger, worthier people out there for ye. I would with all my heart but I am no Casanova.”
“I don’t want them; or you, to be Casanova. (Who was an idiot by the way!) I want you!” she exclaimed.
“What is it about me that you like so much in a relatively short period of time?”
Shrugging her shoulders Nyssa lowered her head: “You remind me of my father in some ways - with a smattering of the Doctor,” Mr Gold frowned, now was his turn to have the short stab of jealousy pierce his heart, “you’re handsome. Warm dark brown eyes,” sighing she glanced at the man before her through her eyelashes. “I may not be that other part of you but I know that you are exactly the sort of man that would complete me.”
“Oh Nyssa,” he breathed deeply. “Nyssa, my dear, you would complete me.”
Nyssa glanced at the chipped cup in the cupboard: “Belle may not have been your wife but she would have been,” flicking her eyes back to Mr Gold’s ever darkening gaze, “I feel like a third party here,” Nyssa’s voice broke into the sound of a shattered sob, “maybe I should have stayed with Mary Margaret.”
Removing Mr Gold’s hands from her person she turned on her heel and her hair danced through the movement: “You’re not a third party,” Mr Gold said. Slowly she turned around facing him again. “I want to look after you,” his voice was also emotionally breaking. “I wish, want and desire to protect you,” taking her hands back into his Mr Gold clutched onto them tightly, “I have not even made any kind of deal with you - you made your mind up to be here.” Tears threatened to drown his eyes, “believe me, right now I want to carry you up the stairs and make love with you, but I do not feel worthy for you are ethereal.” Tilting Nyssa’s head up, hands still joined, he cupped her chin and made her look at him. “You are making me feel like a man just by being next to you!”
“So,” Nyssa smiled a little, “by not making a deal with me shows how important I am to you?”
“Yes. Amongst other things.”
Squaring her shoulders Nyssa tilted her head to the side. Oh how she looked like a cute little Cavalier King Charles Spaniel: “Well, how about if I made a deal with you?” she said becoming rather sly in her manner.
“Go on?” if Nyssa had seen the film she would have been put in mind of Jafar from Aladdin. Only, sexier!
“I do expect you to, what term did I hear Ruby say earlier…” Mr Gold sighed: Please, nothing vulgar. “Ah, yes,” Nyssa remembered. “I do expect you to sleep with me by the end of the week; and if you don’t…”
“Yes?” he smirked. She could talk his language better than he could hers. “Then I will tell everyone in the town you have a half price sale!”
“Now that!” he said waggling a finger in front of Nyssa’s eyes clearly they had parted hands at some point; “honestly,” he shook his head and rolled his eyes as he limped to the table, “is evil! What did I ever do to you to deserve such a threat?”
“It will be a matter of what you won’t have done with me!” she said smirking.
“We’ll make a minx of you yet, Nyssa,” he laughed heartily, “now, I know you came to get your little present but I felt you deserved another after you were brutally hurt in what was supposed to be a simulation situation,” Mr Gold strode back to her as well as he could. “Here,” he flicked it open. Nyssa gasped at what he was giving her; “I notice you love to wear gold so…” Mr Gold sighed, “these just seemed to have your name on them.
Twinkling in the soft light of the living room Nyssa was enchanted by the dove earrings decorated with little amethyst eyes. Gleaming in the candle light as the flames flickered playing with the shadows. They looked like they were enchanted as they appeared to be ready for a long flight.
“They are so exquisite!” Nyssa gasped.
“Because you’re exquisite, Nyssa!”
Tentatively Nyssa picked them up, “I do not have pierced ears.”
“Yes, well - tomorrow I have booked you a hairdressers appointment. They pierce ears,” he took her hand placed the box in the centre of her palm and closed her fingers around it, “doves are a symbol of hope, Nyssa. You are someone who believes in hope.”
“Rumpelstiltskin,” she sighed. “They are just incredible.”
“You are incredible. A man can look at a woman and think of sunrises too.”
Laughing Nyssa shook her head: “Why do people hate you so much?”
“Believe it or not I am a very cruel man!”
Nyssa gulped and walked up to him: “You know,” her voice became slightly trembling and awkward in her shyness, “I am not a child. There is no advantage being taken of. If anyone finds out and asks me questions I will say that it was none of their business and if anyone - anyone - gives you grief I will tell them it was my idea.”
“Oh lass,” he breathed taking her in a hug and she put her arms around his neck, “no one will be judging you - if anyone finds out I will be the one judged. No matter what you say no one will believe you.”
“I’ll hypnotise them!” she sniffed and laughed at the same time. “Or say we made a deal!”
“I am afraid that would not help.”
“No,” she sighed gripping hold of his lapels, “I need to confess something to you.”
“Yes?”
“I sort of tricked you into kissing me.”
“No… no I kissed you … twice.”
“I put a suggestion in your mind - both times!”
“How could you do that?”
“Tele-Empathic. If I concentrate; get a good look in someone’s eyes - I can send a telepathic message to someone’s mind,” she sighed, “I told you I had powers. Please do not be angry,” she said, “I needed to be kissed. So desperately needed to be kissed!”
“ANGRY?” he smiled laughing heartily with joy, “my dear Nyssa that is amazing - you tricked the trickster,” he picked Nyssa up in his arms still chuckling, “but don’t do it again,” he whispered.
“I promise I won’t,” she muffled into his neck.
“Would you have tricked me into further activity?”
“If we were not at Mary Margaret’s then maybe.”
“Why did you do that you little hen?”
“Because I could!”
“Oh Nyssa,” he sighed setting her back on the floor, “you are a treasure, no wonder Regina’s worried.”
“Does this mean I am evil?”
“No, you used the powers to get what you wished - kisses. How can kissing be evil?” Mr Gold’s eyes were wide with pride and joy, “now, do you have telekinetic powers?”
“No,” Nyssa said.
“Shame,” he sighed, “but one thing,” he said. “What other reason?”
“I wanted to be kissed. I wanted to know what it was like to have a man press his body against mine. I wanted to know what it was like to be thought of as a woman but,” she spread her arms up in the air and rested one on her hip and another she bent into the air scratching her forehead, as she paced around in circles, “I still do not know what it was like because you were not really doing it. I was guiding you.”
“You, my dear, are the most awesome woman I have ever met and I have come across quite a few.”
“Still no Belle.”
“No, you are not Belle,” he bent down so they were level with each other, “you know why?” she was refusing to glance at him, “look at me,” she raised her eyelids and stared shyly at him, “because you are Nyssa. If Belle could see you she would say the same thing.”
“Yes along with: ‘Get away from him you little slut!’”
“No, Belle would not have worded it like that.”
“But it would have been her intent?”
“Why are you so fixated on this?”
“Belle was beautiful. More graceful than me. Her aura is so strong that I feel it on you.”
“What I meant was,” Mr Gold tilted her chin up with his finger, “that you do not need to be Belle because you are the even more unique Nyssa.”
“Keep talking.”
“What can I say that has not been said tonight already,” Mr Gold clamped his hands on her arms and squeezed them, “in fact you know the reason why I invited you over to stay?”
“Because there was not enough room at Mary Margaret’s.”
“No, and not because you wanted protection. You proved earlier you can fight off any attacker better than I ever could,” Nyssa smiled and glowed with earned pride, “no, I asked and persisted in asking because you have similarities to Belle. Same height, the loveliest bluest of blue eyes, the same sweetness of temper. I invited you over here because you, my lovely, have the ability to make me happy. Nyssa,” Mr Gold sighed, “I do not want you to be an exact copy of Belle. I want to get to know you - the just as wonderful Nyssa of Traken.”
“Albright here,” she said. “Nyssa Albright.”
“That was a wonderful effort of quick thinking on Sheriff Swan’s thinking.”
“I like Emma she has amazing tenacity.”
“She does,” Mr Gold sighed. “Look, Nyssa - I guess what I am trying to say in my own badly awkward way is that - I like you.”
“Like everybody else likes me?”
“No, Nyssa,” his voice darkened; taking on a hungry aspect, “not like everybody else. I do not know any other way I can say this,” his eyes darkened along with the voice. “The sunsets are different with you but still equally magnificent.”
“You mean you think I am worthy enough to you that I … I … am,” tears now fell from her eyes, “you really - I guess I am bad at this too,” she sniffed back her tears and laughed also reaching up, she laid the palm of her hand on his cheek, “I am equal to Belle?”
“Of course you are, Nyssa,” Mr Gold said, “yes of course I want to take you to my bedroom and make mad passionate love,” he was loving her touch, “but you must understand, I am 55 - you are 18.”
“So?”
“What do you mean so?”
“I mean,” she stepped forward, “so?”
“Can you clarify that please?”
“My father was 100 when he had me,” Mr Gold’s eyes arched up. “My mother was 40 and she was considered very young.”
“A-a-a hundred?” Gold stammered. “40?”
“He was 118 when he died and he was still vital in all acts - two days before he died he married my step mother who was about 50.”
“You never mentioned a step mother.”
“I do not care to,” Nyssa sighed. “She was partly the reason I am all alone now. Yes, I am sad she died,” Nyssa’s fingers scrunched in his soft floofy hair, “but we always had difficulties. I have a feeling she would have fobbed me off to some officious rich man just to get rid of me.”
“I am sure your father loved you more than her.”
“I am very sure. So, I say again. 18 and 55 NOT a problem. Carry on,” she sighed. “Throw some more at me.”
“I am a difficult man to love.”
“I will be the judge of that.”
Giggling Mr Gold brought her forward by her waist: “Everybody hates me.”
“I am not representative of everybody.”
“You could disappear as quickly as you appeared.”
“I am only travelling with the Doctor because no one else has offered me the same stability.”
“You could grow to despise me.”
“Hmm,” she narrowed her eyes, “55 years of age, not very wrinkled. Dresses impeccably. The most mesmerising eyes on a man I have ever seen. A smile that stretches right along the face. Been there to protect me against Regina and got me to a place of safety when I was ill, yes I absolutely hate your guts!” she said with a playful chuckle.
“Oo you are a little minx, Nyssa Albright!” he exclaimed. Mr Gold’s pupils twinkled with mischief. “I may not have some abilities,” he winked, “but from tomorrow evening onwards I wish you to become my pupil - I want to teach you some mind control so you have better chances to be aware of when some things are about to happen. Now, homework,” he said as he hugged her. Lovely fresh violets wafted up making him feel calm. “I want you to write things down. Your thoughts, feelings - like a diary. I want you to journal, especially the moments you begin to have premonitions. Particularly note how being around Regina and I make you feel.”
“Yes Sir,” Nyssa said nodding, “but one question; sir?”
“Go on?”
“As you are now my mentor and I your pupil does that mean a relationship is off the record completely?”
“All good things come to those who wait, dear,” Mr Gold said, “as I said the town will hate me and not you - what they have got to see first is how well we get along and how I treat you.”
“I may not have time to stick around that long.”
“What if I made you an offer of stability?”
“Like what?” Nyssa gulped.
“A home,” he said earnestly. “With me; forever!”
“What if Belle shows up and wants you back?”
“I do not think that is likely, Nyssa, considering she is dead.”
“Yes but what if…?”
“Belle is dead, Nyssa,” Mr Gold said trying to keep the tears from his voice. “You are alive. Belle would want me to help you. In fact she probably would order me to help you.”
“Again she was extraordinary.”
“As are you.”
“All right, Rumpelstiltskin,” Nyssa sighed. “If our relationship did become so strong parting from you would cause too much pain I would, of course, stay with you here. At least I may get to see my friend more.”
“You may but, unfortunately, I cannot come with you.”
“Why?”
“Because the antidote to my problem has yet to happen.”
“So how come I can leave?”
“Because you’re not part of my world before!”
♥x♥x♥x♥x♥
The Doctor had just finished eating Mary Margaret’s beautiful chocolate souffles and was stuffed out on the sofa. That and the chicken cannoli Mary had also prepared. Teaching children, cooking that wonderful meal; what else could this woman do? Now they were sitting on the sofa watching a movie. The Doctor was aware of Granny's curfew but he had settled into this semblance of normality. The girls had put on Shakespeare In Love. Sort of historically inaccurate the Doctor sighed. Still somewhat enjoyable though the sex scenes were a bit discomforting. Especially as his mind was still on Nyssa and the imagined terrible tortures Mr Gold was putting his friend under.
“No true love’s kiss could ever save them,” sighed Mary Margaret sadly.
“No,” The Doctor sighed. “That is what a knife and a good poison can do to you.”
“Pretty brutal though,” Emma said. “Gang life like that still exists.”
“West Side Story,” the Doctor said.
“Right.”
Knock. They all looked at their clocks and it was far too late for visitors. Knock, knock, knock, knock. Still polite but a little intent was put into it. “Open Up!” a child’s voice. “Come on,” he was really annoyed now. “PLEASE?”
Emma opened the door: “Sorry, we were drowning in food and Joseph Fiennes”
“Who?”
“A British actor,” Mary filled in with. “So, shall the Doctor and I take a walk back to Granny's?”
“Yeah,” Emma said. “Goodnight, Doctor. I will tell Nyssa you called.”
“Goodnight Henry,” Mary said.
“Night, Miss Blanchard,” the boy sighed, “Doctor, can I have a word with you before you go?”
Mary Margaret decided to wait outside for the Doctor: “I dunno how this happened,” Henry said taking the book out of his backpack and opened it up. “Somehow you and your friend have become a part of the book.”
The Doctor took the book and blinked. There he was sitting by Snow White. Henry turned the page over and another facsimile portrait, this time of Nyssa running through a dark part of a forest bloodied; bruised, with a twisted ankle: “That is Nyssa!” The Doctor exclaimed, “what has happened to her.”
“Guys I do not know who has done this,” Henry sighed, “but look;” he turned to a double page spread of elaborate text. The Doctor put his glasses on and leaned down to read: Glancing at the Doctor; who stood by helplessly as he could not speak or reason with Nyssa, and then at Snow who realised she was also as helpless as the Doctor in not being able to offer an alternative to this Blue Fairy.
“Interesting young man,” the Doctor smiled pocketing his glasses, “nicely set the tone there.”
“No,” Henry said, “I did not write this,” he explained. “But if you’re in the book this means you and your nice friend are in trouble.”
“What do you mean?” the Doctor said. “I have spent my whole life being in trouble.”
“Yes but this is different. This means,” he took the Doctor’s hand, “that you can’t leave Storybrooke.”
“Why is that then?”
“No one can leave Storybrooke,” Henry said in a whisper. “No one that is in this book can leave. Ever!”
“Why?” the Doctor whispered back.
“The book never lies,” Henry leaned further forward sighing for dramatic effect: “Bad things happen to those who leave Storybrooke;” he continued. “If you are in the book - bad things happen due to a curse!”
“A curse eh, young chap, but I am a scientist - as is my friend.”
Henry turned the page over. “Even your weird blue box is here; in the picture!”
“Tomorrow I will have to see my friend. Nyssa normally calms the situation down for me,” the Doctor said. Awed by how he and his friend managed to end up in a book he had never heard of. The Doctor observed the 10 year old boy. Henry truly believed his statement. “Ah well,” he said, “Time to take on another impossibility.”
“You mean you believe that you can’t leave?” Emma said.
“Absolutely,” the Doctor said.
Henry smiled: “Nobody ever believes me,” he said. “People think I’m crazy.”
The Doctor knelt down on his knee, grabbed the child by his biceps and gazed earnestly into his eyes: “Some of the craziest people have the best ideas.” he sighed, “Albert Einstein, Leonardo Da Vinci, Thomas Edison were all scorned and yet look at the contribution they made to the world. Never,” he pinched Henry’s cheek: “and I mean never,” the Doctor let go of Henry’s biceps and bought him into a hug, “ever stop being crazy. I like mad men!”
“I’m afraid,” Henry sighed, “your girlfriend seems like she could be in great danger!”
Sighing, the Doctor smiled at the boy: “One, Nyssa is not my girlfriend…”
Henry frowned: “Why not?”
“Because I do not have girlfriends,” the Doctor said airily, no point in telling the actual truth. “Secondly,” he said making sure Henry could not have put another objection in his way: “Nyssa has her own extraordinary senses and is usually very pragmatic about whatever situation she finds herself in.”
Glancing down on the floor Henry stared through his eyelashes: “Does your friend have a boyfriend?” he said with a playful smile and mischievous twinkle in his eyes.
“Not that I am aware of,” the Doctor sighed, “why?”
“Let’s just hope she finds one here,” he said. “Something tells me she is going to need it.”
Frowning the Doctor looked at Emma who just shrugged: “Come on,” Emma put her arm around Henry’s shoulders, “I have to get you back to Regina, before she decides to put ME out of a job!”
“I won’t let you be fired,” Henry said.
The Doctor smiled: “You, my dear boy,” he said, “remind me of someone else I once knew.”
“Who?” Henry asked.
“Me.”
Glowing with pride Henry turned to Emma: “Well, if he is not married…”
Laughing Emma took Henry’s hand. “Come on!” she sighed. “I am very sorry, kids, you know.”
“I’m not offended,” the Doctor smiled, “you are a strong woman.”
Emma muttered. “Screwed up more like!”
Taking her keys she led the Doctor and Henry down the stairs. Mary was waiting for them and smiled at the Doctor. “See you tomorrow, Doctor,” Henry sighed. “Where is Nyssa by the way? Thought she’d be with you.”
“Nyssa has decided to stay with someone called Mr Gold.”
“She didn’t make a deal with him did she?”
“No,” Emma said, “no he asked her and she decided to say yes.”
“I have been ruminating over this,” the Doctor said to the women, “if this Mr Gold is all that clever and has the ability to offer Nyssa some sort of home comforts she has actually been missing - then I will defend her decision, he may also provide her with something I cannot.”
Emma took a sidelong glance at the Doctor. I think he protests too much, she thought. “I don’t see how being in Mr Gold’s care can protect her!” she exclaimed.
“Being her lover.” The Doctor said. “There are many reasons why I cannot fulfil that role for her. Reasons which breaks me,” he sighed. “Tell you what, Mary, why do you not take Henry back to Regina.”
“Oh joy!” Mary said sarcastically.
“Don’t worry,” Henry said taking Mary’s hand. “It will be fine.”
“Emma and I need to chat.”
♥x♥x♥x♥x♥
Moments later The Doctor grabbed Emma’s hand and turned her around to face him: “Whatever it takes, keep Nyssa by Mr Gold’s side.”
“So you are saying I should encourage her to be with Mr Gold?”
“Mr Gold is precisely the type of man she needs,” the Doctor sighed, “he will spoil her rotten, perhaps the way her father did. You should have known her father,” the Doctor sighed. “I was a bit shocked when you told me at first but I am happy Nyssa has decided to follow her father’s principles.”
Emma smiled: “Well, as long as you’re okay with it,” she sighed as she parked the car. “We have been worried about this,” the Doctor shook his head, “you know Nyssa better.”
“Just keep me up to date,” the Doctor sighed, “and remember - make sure Nyssa has someone by her side at all times. If her vision she had last night was as bad as you say it was that can only mean the danger is vividly clear and extremely present.”
“So you’re saying this Master jerk could be here, in Storybrooke?”
“Yes,” the Doctor said, “I just hope Mr Gold’s mind is strong enough.”
“Against what?”
“Against the Master’s usual trick of course,” the Doctor sighed. Emma’s non plussed look was enough to make the Doctor realise that Nyssa had not told her new partner everything, “the Master can control people. He manages to get into their minds and uses them as puppets to do his will. If the Master cannot control Mr Gold then Nyssa is safe.”
“But what if the Master tries to control Nyssa?”
“With her ever strengthening powers he would not dare try!”
“Doctor,” Emma tapped her thumb on the wheel of the car thinking things over, “she was trying to resist touching him. You know … romantically.”
“Like kissing and stroking through hair, I’m older than I look, Sheriff Swan.”
“Acting Sheriff Swan and yes. She was sitting on her hands and biting her lips.”
“Acting Sheriff Swan,” The Doctor corrected himself, “and he was…?”
“Just looking, flirting with words, and got angry on her behalf but no other untoward behaviour.”
“So, just look at her tomorrow. See if things have changed within her aspect,” Emma nodded, “watch her body language around Mr Gold. If she is still sweetness and light around him then you have nothing to worry about, do you?”
“I guess not,” Emma sighed, “you’re right. He can’t be a virgin after all, except - she is!”
“So were you - so was I, so was everybody.”
“Fine, you have been around for a long time and you are a pain in the ass!”
Laughing heartily he opened the car door and smiled at Emma: “This has been a fairly unusual adventure for me so far.”
“How come?”
“No one has tried to kill me yet. No one has kidnapped my friend. No one has interrogated me…”
“Hey blondie you’re almost late for closing time,” Ruby said from the gate. “Emma, enjoy your date?”
“It was not a date, Ruby!” Emma said back.
“Sure and you drop off gorgeous strangers every night!”
The girls laughed: “Well, Emma, if you don’t want him…”
The Doctor preened under the female attention. Glancing at Emma, the Doctor winked at her and she smiled back. “Beds waiting, handsome. We also got some books for you this time. Unless that is not enough anymore.”
“You are bad, Ruby!”
“Bad and proud,” Ruby said clicking her tongue against her mouth emphasising the wink she sent Emma’s way. “Breakfast special, lover boy!”
Ruby led the Doctor back to the B+B and Emma drove off back home.
In the shadows, unheard but gratifying all the same, an unseen presence laughed: “Oh my dear Doctor,” the voice sighed, “the ladies are really drawn to you are they not. Lovely to see you more carefree Doctor Charming! Everything is happening like I thought it would. Young Nyssa is going to rely on someone new. The Doctor will be rewritten and when the time is ripe … ” the voice hesitated, “I will gain the Universe and my bride!” He watched the silhouette of the Doctor move about in his room. “Sleep peacefully, Doctor,” the voice sighed. “Sleep perchance to dream for tomorrow you may die…” the chuckle would have sent chills down the spine of anyone listening.
Leaves rustled as the unseen presence slunk off as he began to devise his plan of action for tomorrow: Now, all he had to do was to plot a deal that someone of Gold’s disposition will not be able to refuse. From what I have been told he is a spineless coward and when Nyssa see’s that, the man grinned, she will be putty in my hands!
