Gray slowly blinked awake, frowning to see that the digital alarm clock by his bed read 3:16 AM. This was the fifth time he had gotten up in the past two hours, and he didn't have any ideas as to why. He rolled over with a groan, burying his face into his pillow for a moment before rubbing at his eyes with the heel of one hand, reaching one arm back to grab his phone, wincing slightly when the screen lit up. He dimmed the screen's brightness, then went to his messages, sending Penelope a quick message.
He felt like he should regret it. Getting out of his couch. Leaving his comfortable apartment. But the idea wouldn't get out of his mind. He had to politely send his apologies for his stupidity to Silena. What would be better than flowers. He remembered Storybrooke had a florist. He wondered if Silena would like some flowers. He smiled to himself just by thinking about her.
He stood in front of the little shop admiring the flowers. He wondered what flowers would Silena like. And he just stared thinking about it. What would she like? Why was so hard to please women?
If this isn't love, then winter is a summer,
If this isn't love, my heart needs a plumber
I'm swinging on stars, I'm riding on rainbows,
I'm busting with bliss and I'll kiss your hand if this isn't love.
He had gotten home early that night, but despite that Gray hadn't gone to bed early. It was around three in the morning before the man finally fell asleep, and that was only after watching two or three boring movies for lack of a better thing to do, as well as cooking himself supper. At some point in the night he had also put his phone in his sock drawer. Vaisey hadn't been bothering him, but Gray had continuously found himself holding the device, his finger hovering over the call button, a certain woman on his mind.
Eventually he had collapsed in bed, too tired to stay awake and debate whether or not he was allowed to call her at this time of night. They were standing outside the club, just like they always did on nights when Penelope was working. The idea of Penelope walking home in the cold at ungodly hours of the morning bothered Gray since he had first learned that she didn't have a car. But instead of getting in the car, they stood there, and Gray reached over and took Penelope's hand, bringing it to his lips. "I hope you didn't suffer too much tonight." he muttered, looking up at her, "But you're free now."
"You saved me." Penelope giggled.
Gray shook his head, straightening up, though he still held her hand. "Your shift just ended." he chuckled, using his free hand to reach into his coat pocket for the keys so he could unlock the car, "Why? Was it so bad you needed saving? You could have called me."
"I could have?" she smiled at him, placing her hand over his, "I thought you also worked." She took a step closer to him, "Isn't that kind of important?"
He just shook his head in response, "Of course you could have. I'd leave early in a heartbeat, if you needed me." He took both her hands in his, squeezing them gently, "I love you."
With that, Gray woke up with a start, sitting up so quickly that he got a head rush. "What was that, Gisbourne..." he muttered, massaging his temples as he tried to figure out why he had a dream like that. "Of course you don't love her. You just met her..." Besides, he couldn't love people. He had lost the ability to after his mother died. "Right?"
It wasn't like him to be so conflicted. Of course she was beautiful. Anyone could see that Penelope was a goddess. And she was sweet. And kind. She made him smile, and laugh. No one had succeeded in making him happy in years. He hadn't even remembered what that was, until he had met her. "But love?" he asked the empty room, pulling his blanket up around him, suddenly feeling uncomfortable, unable to see if he was hot or cold.
Do I love her? His eyes widened, and he bit his lip. He couldn't get her out of his mind, he was sure of that. And holding her, even though she had been a crying mess when he had, made his heart swell. He couldn't stand to see her cry though, the thought of someone hurting her... it... it made him sick. He wanted to protect her but- Shit. "I love her..." he whispered into the dark room. His beautiful, amazing, gentle, sweet Penelope. He loved her.
"I love you." he repeated, eyes falling shut as he realized what a predicament he was in. If this wasn't love... It certainly wasn't obsession like it had been with Marian. Love... "I love you."
It had been a pretty normal day- as days in Storybrooke went now that time was moving forward again. Four cases, three of which could have been done in her sleep... and one that Carlyle Jones represented. Aisa still enjoyed watching the faint trembling in his hands when he handed her documents.
Perhaps she was mean. But she could definitely be much meaner.
As she left her office for the night at 8:17, she sent a probing thought to her future, then did the same for each of her sisters, first Colette (the most worrying) then Lacey (the most likely to get injured from work), then... Penelope. It was still odd to think her Curse Name. She was Persephone. She was once magnificent. And here she was simply a shadow. As they all were.
Aisa froze. Penelope's future was hellatious. Scattered images of being grabbed and prodded and pinched flitted across the Fate's mind in quick succession, varying futures that varied from unpleasant to sickeningly painful.
Had anyone paid close attention to the Judge as she exited the building and got in her car, they would have noted her clenched teeth and white knuckles hiding behind the easy smile and carefully neutral gait.
She was at the club in exactly seven minutes and fifty-two seconds, shoving her quasi-police I.D. in a bouncer's face while entering at the front of a long line.
It was that time of the week: Monday. Monday was the day The Rabbit Hole was pretty much out of business, other than a simple fill-in for Flynn just in case. During such breaks from working, the man frequented different places every time, trying his best to have a good time and earn a coin or a hundred while doing so.
That day, he decided to visit a place he hadn't been to before. It looked like a simple bar or night club, as the outside didn't give off much. Either way, he was certain it'd be filled to the brim with drunk businessmen and, with drunk businessmen, came an important thing: Full unguarded wallets of many sorts. It wasn't a challenge at all, really.
The tall man made his way into the locale, and scanned the room. He took a seat on a perch and ordered a beer from a waitress, whose outfit was unusually skimpy. He didn't think about it too much, and returned to looking around for his first victim.
