Warehouse 13/OUAT: Double Date

Myka cleared her throat, feeling like she was about to give a book report. "We do work for the government—in affiliation with the government, I should say—for an organization that finds, retrieves, and stores Artifacts. For lack of a better word, they're magic—ordinary objects imbued with psychic power to cause... effects. Like a lucky charm that is really lucky. Unfortunately, they all have a downside, so we store them for the safety of the general public until they can be studied in a viable manner." She looked to HG, her spiel done, and Helena gave her a nod.

There was a brief commotion in the mob of townspeople as Belle came to the fore, slinging her crossbow over his shoulder. "All magic has a price, is that what you're saying?"

"Yes, pretty much."

"And you have a way to neutralize magical items?"

"Absolutely," Pete confirmed.

Belle looked over their shoulders' to Giselle, who was sharing an impromptu dance with Kathryn. They went way back. "Giselle, is this true?"

"My Helena used to work with them..." Giselle rushed over to take Helena's hand. "I trust her implicitly. She's my true love this month."

"Emma?" Belle asked.

"I haven't heard one lie from them."

"Jinks?" Myka called.

He perked up. "They're all telling the truth. Even her," he added, nodding to Regina.

"People always seem so surprised," Regina mused bitterly.

Belle seized their attention once more. "Then you all should come with me. There's something you need to take care of before anything else can happen to it." She turned to go, then saw they weren't following. "Unless we're all going to kill each other?"

Regina snapped her fingers, summoning up a flint's worth of flame, before putting her hands in her pockets. "Rain check."

Helena smirked at her. "You can make it hot any time you like."

"Get a room," Myka muttered as she fetched her keys from her jacket pocket.

***

They drove together in separate cars for the sake of their mutual suspicion. Emma and Regina rode with Helena and Myka, Emma driving, while Belle and Giselle rode with Jinks and Claudia, Pete driving and thanking God for the Prius's staggeringly roomy interior. Flanked by the mob's cars, they sped toward the pawn shop at a crawl, like everyone was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"You're really government agents?" Emma asked. "In charge of policing magical artifacts?"

"You're really able to, what, read people's minds?" Myka shot back.

"Tell when they're lying. Yeah, I know, I know, no one believes it—then they cheat on me, I ask them if they cheated on me, 'no, baby, no,' I throw them out in the middle of the night."

"I believe you," Myka said. "About the... truth sense. Jinks can do something like that."

"Oh yeah? Well, is he a fairy princess?" Emma challenged.

"Uh—you're halfway there..."

Emma laughed, embarrassed. "Gay. Don't get many of those around here."

"Maine?"

"Storybrooke. Don't ask me why..."

"Must cut down on your dating prospects."

Emma's eyebrows raised. "You'd be surprised. Anyway, we got some people here a couple months back. They claimed to be working for an organization that was taking on magic."

"Claimed?"

"They were actually working for Peter Pan."

"Peter Pan? What, Neverland Peter Pan?"

"Yeah."

"Claimed—so, they thought they were working for the FBI or something?"

"Something like that."

"So, what, did Peter Pan stand on another kid's shoulders, dress up in a big coat, and invite them over for a job interview? What did he pay them in, Native American stereotypes?"

"We try not to think about it too much. What about you? And that... guy?"

"Pete? What about us?"

"You're together?"

Myka put her foot up on the dash, pushing on it like she wanted to kick through the engine block. "Sorta. It used to make a lot of sense—now it's starting to feel like a real bad idea."

"Well, obviously. You two are practically different species. Whose genius idea was it for you two to start dating?"

"Uh... a table suggested it."

Emma blinked. "So you hate your life too, huh?"

"Pretty much."

In the backseat, Regina looked over at Helena. "Are they going to flirt like this the entire way?"

"Sounds like. So, you're a sorceress?"

"Yes. And you, a mad scientist?"

"Please. Mad physicist."

"Ah." Regina nodded. "Know any way to bring the dead back to life?"

"No. Know any way to travel in time?"

"Yes, but you wouldn't like it."

"Of course not. Just thought I'd ask."

"Understood."

***

When they arrived at the pawn shop. Belle hurried to be first to the door, unlocking it and almost skipping inside. She jumped behind the counter, pausing there. When Pete and Myka entered, both their phones chirped.

"My Appifact is going off the charts." Claudia had invented the process to convert iPhones into low-level Artifact detectors—she got to name it. "Is everything in this store...?"

"Most of it is harmless," Belle assured Myka. "I know that's hard to believe, but things work differently where we're from. Maybe we're just better at managing this sort of thing."

"Less reliance on technology, more open-mindedness?" Myka wondered.

Belle shrugged. "Or the laws of physics are just subtly skewed over there. I'm not sure."

Great, Pete thought. More geek love. He wondered if he was going to walk in on Belle having a threesome with Myka and HG, then filed that thought away for later.

"Pete, stop thinking about me naked," Myka hissed under her breath.

"Not like I'd even know—"

"Whose fault is that?"

"All the stuff that was too dangerous—really dangerous—was left in the Enchanted Forest." Belle saw the uncomprehending look on their faces. "Home sweet home. But there is one thing—one thing I've wanted to be rid of for a long time." She went to the vault, beginning the long, arcane process of unlocking it both physically and mystically.

"Belle, stop that now." As so often was the case, Gold knew what everyone else was doing without due explanation, and he had made it to the store quickly and without the awareness of anyone else. He simply stepped out of the shadows, posing.

Belle was immune to his knowing tone. "These people, Rumpel... they can destroy the Dagger. End the curse of the Dark One forever without you having to die. Imagine it—you would never again know the temptation of those evil powers..."

A single bead of sweat decorated Gold's forehead. Only Regina saw it—no one saw her amused smile. "Now, let's not be too hasty, dear. My powers have been of great benefit..."

"And greater harm!" Belle opened up the safe. Her eyes were hellish as they looked upon the dagger. "You can lead a normal life, Rumpel. With me. We can have children... grow old together... I can finally heal the darkness in you, just like I've always hoped to. And it starts with this dagger." She drew it out of the safe.

Belatedly, Pete went for an Artifact bag. Myka already had hers out. "Just drop it in. That should shut it down."

Belle was quick to walk it to them, Gold straining at his self-imposed leash like he wanted to dive in her way.

"Belle, can't we talk about this?" Gold's lip was stretched between his teeth. "I mean, there should at least be some discussion—what if some new evil pops up and we need my power to fight it?"

"Again? What're the odds? No, Rumpel—I swore that if I ever had the chance to free you from this curse, I would take it. And that's just what I'm going to do. Trust me—there'll come a time when you thank me." She held the dagger above the bag. "This may get loud. I doubt you've taken on anything like this before."

"We can handle loud," Pete assured her, though he backed up several steps.

Myka gave him a look, but stretched the arm she used to hold the bag at arm's length. "Go ahead, Belle. Drop it in."

"Wait!" Pete cried, just as Belle's grip loosened. The dagger dangled above the bag precariously, Gold gasping next to it, his fingers knotting desperately, his eyes twitching as he tried to think.

"What is it, Pete?" Myka demanded.

"Yes," Gold echoed, "what is it, Pete?"

"In case anything should happen, Belle... you were always my favorite Disney princess."

Belle smiled. "Thank you, Agent Lattimer. Everyone else always says Ariel." She dropped the dagger in.

Nothing happened.

Then more nothing happened.

Finally, in the next ten seconds, as everyone paused, a great quantity of nothing seemed to happen.

Myka shook the bag a little, then realized she was doing that in front of Pete and hated herself. "This isn't an Artifact."

"Ah, you see?" Gold cried. "Their technology doesn't work on our magic. Simply incompatible. We're lucky it didn't cause some sort of disastrous..."

Belle picked up a small magic gemstone from the counter and dropped it in. A cherry bomb went off in the bag. "No, it works fine." She took it, and the blade, out. "So why wouldn't..." Belle eyed the dagger closely. "No."

"No?" Gold echoed, restraining a nervous laugh.

"You wouldn't—!"

"I absolutely wouldn't."

"You couldn't!"

"Well, I could, but that doesn't mean—"

"You did."

Gold tugged at his collar. "You know, Belle—fights are a part of every couple's first year of marriage..."

"Where's the dagger!? You tell me right now!"

"Belle, please, it's for your own safety. I need its power. I can't lose you like I lost Bae." His eyes were big. They gleamed a little. "Please understand. I only want its power to protect you. You're the only thing that matters to me. Having people think the dagger is one place, having even you think that, is for your own protection. That's the only reason I would ever lie to you. For your own good."

"He killed Zelena," Regina said casually, running a filing iron over her fingertips.

Belle took a step backwards. "What."

"Someone clearly used magic to alter the prison's recording. I didn't do it... who else had the motive and opportunity to do it? Tinkerbell?"

"We shouldn't rule anything out," Gold said in consideration.

Belle slapped him. "You asshole!"

"I am not a—" She slapped him again. "Stop that—" She slapped him again. "You have to under—" She slapped him again. "If you don't stop—" She slapped him again. "I will not tolerate—" She slapped him again. "I cannot talk to you when you get like this!"

In a puff of colored smoke, he was gone. Belle slapped the cloud for good measure.

Pete raised a finger. "Not to be insensitive, but—now what?"

Regina took the stage. "If I know Rumpel, he'll spend a few hours flirting with being the Dark One again—scales, leather, calling people 'dearie' a lot. Then he'll run back to win Belle over. They'll fight, they'll make up, and maybe, when all is said and done, he'll give up the real dagger. I suggest you pull up a chair and settle in for a long wait. Granny's should have started pulling out pies for the lunch rush by now."

"Ooh, pies!"

While Myka corralled Pete, Emma took Regina by the arm and pulled her deeper into the store. "What are you playing at?"

"Why Ms. Swan, whatever do you mean?"

"Don't play dumb with me."

"I would never play dumb with you. You have too much experience, you'd beat me with ease."

"You set that up," Emma said, pointing her finger, thinking j'accuse! "You wanted Mr. Gold to run off and leave these people in the lurch. Why?"

"Perhaps I simply enjoy having some company that isn't united in hatred and suspicion of me. Besides, you have to admit, it seemed like the appropriate time to drop that little bombshell. Did you see Belle come at him?"

Emma couldn't quite hide a grin. "I thought she was going to knock him on his ass."

Regina looked down at Emma's hand, still on her arm. She smoothly dissuaded it. "If you'll excuse me—"

"No." Emma said it as Regina tried to move past her, her arm reaching out to block Regina's path. "Just so you know... I'm not united in hatred or suspicion with anyone."

Regina's eyes grew soft, considering. She leaned over to Emma's ear. "Very true... but you don't have a British accent."

Smoothly side-stepping Emma, she drew up to Helena with all the swagger her power and confidence gave her. "Care for a drink while you wait?"

***

In short order, everyone had dispersed to their various ends of the Earth. Pete stayed with Belle in the pawn shop, partly to snag/bag/tag some of the more dangerous Artifacts, but mostly to comfort her.

"I can't believe it!" she was ranting, looking through the display case for something to hand off. "I thought he'd changed! I married him! I'm his wife! The future mother of his children! And he just lies to me! Right to my face! Not even about porn—I could understand that! About murdering people and... and daggers!"

"Men are pigs," Pete agreed.

"Yes, thank you." Belle realized she'd started crying and hurriedly wiped the tears from her eyes. "And thanks for listening to me rave. I know you probably have better things to do than listen to some silly librarian go on and on about her relationship. Here. The Horned King's Cauldron. You're probably want to get rid of this."

"What's it do?" Pete asked, taking the pot from her. It didn't look any more dangerous than most dishware.

"Raises an army of the dead to wage war on the living."

"Yeah." Pete set it aside gently. "Yeah, I can see how we'd want to keep an eye on that."

"You know what's really awful?" Belle asked. "Normal couples, they at least have fights. I just keep giving lectures, because it's always him. I don't do anything wrong, it's all him. If I did something wrong, at least I could feel a little conflicted, because we'd both have flaws, but it's always him. He's always lying! I've never lied! I've never broken a promise! Is it just harder for him than it is for me?"

"Maybe it's easier for a good person to stay good than for a bad person to change," Pete said, his eyes drifting upward in thought.

"You're right. You're so right." Belle reached out to take his hand. "I wish more men were like you. So sensitive... so thoughtful."

"I'm not really that thoughtful."

"So modest!" Belle cried, squeezing his hand. "I just wish I had a way to get back at him."

"Get back at him?"

"Some promise I made to him that I could break. But all I've ever promised him is to stay with him, and I can't not do that—I love him."

"Well, actually—"

"Of course, I did promise to remain faithful to him—forsaking all others—but I can't very well break that vow, can I? Just cheat on him?"

"Actually, I think..."

Belle took a step towards him. Pete took a step back.

"Am I really your favorite Disney princess?"

Pete laughed nervously, taking another step back as Belle advanced on him. "Yeah, Belle... of course you are."

"Because Ariel... she wears that teeny-tiny little bra. You can see her dinners all the time."

"Her dinners?"

"She has great breasts, don't you think? I met her. They really are something.

Pete backed into the wall. "I'm sure they are!"

"I mean, look at mine." Belle undid her blouse. "Nothing to write home about, are they?"

"I wouldn't say that..."

"You're right... more than a handful is a waste. Isn't that what they say?"

"Yes—I mean, that is what they say."

"And they are, you know."

"Are?"

"A handful. Here. Feel."

"I should, uh, err..."

"Your hands are so soft..."

"So are your, uh—"

"Just about a handful—wouldn't you say?"

"Yup. That's a ten-four, good buddy."

"But I bet they're too big to fit in your mouth."

Pete really had to take that wager.

As it turned out, a lot of things could fit into a lot of things.

***

Regina's drawing room was vast and spartan, dominated by a massive fireplace that shed its bonfire light like a cloud of perfume. A pair of wing-backed chairs set it off, a little chessboard table between them, the pieces stored in a drawer underneath. Helena regarded the interplay of black and white in the firelight until Regina was upon her again.

"Behold," Regina said, bearing a silver tray. "My famous apple cider."

Helena smiled back at her as Regina served them. "May I assume this is a seduction?"

Regina sat down across from her. "You can assume a great deal—without ever finding out if your assumptions are accurate."

Helena took her glass, but toyed with the amber liquid inside rather than drinking it—tilting the cup this way and that. "I sense a certain... élan... when it comes to our shared morality. Boldness becomes us. Polite conversation does not."

"How true. So, in the interests of interesting conversation, shall we trade mortal sins?"

Helena smiled evenly at her. "What makes you think I have one?"

"Your colleagues. They want to trust you, but they don't. They tip-toe around you. They didn't even do that around me." Regina sipped lightly. "All but that woman, Myka, which I assume we'll come to."

"Is there alcohol in this drink?"

"Most assuredly."

"Then I think we will." Helena smiled. It wasn't as hollow as usual. "I take it you speak from experience when it comes to... tip-toeing?"

"Yes."

"Except for the blonde."

Regina rolled her eyes. "Too stupid not to trust me."

Helena was equally dismayed. "Oh, Regina, I thought we were too alike for lies."

"Never. Now, seeing as you are a guest in my house, would you like to go first? Why is it you let them think they're better than you?"

Helena set her glass down. Spun it lazily. "A long time ago, I had a daughter. You have a son. You know there's a uniqueness to the love between parent and child—the love you can only have for yourself coupled with the love you can only have for another, because you can see yourself in them. You can... she died." Helena took up the glass and drained it. "I took it as well as you'd expect."

The thought of losing Henry was no more bearable for Regina now than it ever was. "I'd kill families."

Helena shrugged. "They were mostly orphans, though. Afterward, my only comfort was thinking of a better world. I traveled the decades in a ship of bronze and time, until I was woken in this day and age."

Regina nodded. "I've traveled similarly."

"Then you've noticed a certain lack of 'better'."

"Yes." Regina sipped. "The internet is nice, though."

Helena's head rolled to the side. "What do you do to a wounded animal when you can't make it better?"

Helena was speaking Regina's language too well for the Queen not to take her meaning. "Oh, Helena. The whole world?"

"At least I can't be accused of lacking ambition. I lost my soul, Regina. What would you have done?"

"A world like that... I wouldn't have given it something as merciful as death. Which I suppose is my problem. Always trying to win the game instead of end it. Refill?"

"Yes, please."

Regina tipped the carafe to both their glasses. There came a scratching at the terrace door. Regina got up, excusing herself politely, and went to it. Through the glass panes that looked into her backyard, she saw a large black canine pelting the door with its paws.

"Go away, Ruby. I don't have time to play with you right now. I'm entertaining a guest."

Giving a moan, the dog swiped at the glass harder.

"I'm not letting you in! Go away or I'm getting the hose."

Ruby gave a bark, turned with a swish of her tail, and ran off.

"Friend of yours?" Helena asked as Regina returned.

"Something of a stray. The bitch is in heat, poor dear. If I let her in, she'd be humping your leg in under a minute."

"We wouldn't want that."

"No. I want you all to myself." Regina smiled and straightened her suit. She was a patient seductress. She enjoyed knowing the game was in the bag, as evidenced by the subtle smirk Helena returned to her, but felt no need to rush an enjoyable conversation to get to the unknown quantity of their sex. She savored her impending victory. "Where was I?"