Chapter Text
Rose Foxley twisted her hands as she walked. It was Thursday morning – just after 8:00 AM – and she was late to work.
Rose Foxley – or Fox, as she liked to be called – was a young woman of average height with an olive complexion. Fox was speedy, with a strong back from moving inventory all by herself. She liked her tea dark, but sweet. She wore a lot of pink. One of her eyes was just slightly darker than the other. She was self-conscious of her difficulty with whispering, the tendency for her voice to pitch louder on random syllables no matter how hard she tried to control it. And she really, truly, hated being late to work.
Granted, it wasn’t as if there was anyone to scold her for it, save for herself. She had no boss to speak of, no regular customers who would be upset with her in any way. Fox was her own boss, but she was a harsh one.
Despite this, she still chose to walk to work; down the steps of her apartment, through the streets of Storybrooke, left at the sheriff’s station, right at the library, scurry past the crowd at Granny’s, and straight down to her shop’s door. This was the walk she took almost every day. Through dragons and demons, sorcerers and stabbings, and that one abominable cold spike last year, she made the trek across the town to her little jewelry shop. Except on Sundays. The shop was closed on Sundays. And there was one person in town who knew the schedule better than anyone.
“Fox! There you are.” Henry Mills stood outside Three Gem Jewelers, and Fox noticed right away that he was twisting one hand in the strap of his backpack. “You’re late.”
Fox gave him a look, but it melted quickly into a smile, and she pulled her keys out of her purse. “Or could it be that you’re early?” she asked.
“Right,” Henry dragged out the word. “So, you got a busy day today?”
“Why? It’s not Tuesday, is it?” Fox swung the door to her shop open and walked in ahead of Henry. She reached for the light switch plate and clicked down the line of buttons without looking.
Three Gem Jewelers was a small shop, and Fox had maximized the space as best she could. Only two of its walls were lined with counters, but those counters were always full. The walls were light green, the floor was vinyl, and the free-standing display cases and cabinets sparkled from within and without – even after a full day of neglect. Fox took a deep breath at the doorway before moving aside so that Henry could follow her. While she turned to a new key on the ring in her hands, she heard him shuffle in behind her.
“No, we’re not due for tutoring until next week.”
Fox unlocked the Dutch door at the far wall of her shop and stepped through it and behind the counter. “Thought so,” she said. She set her purse beside her on the floor.
“I’m actually here to ask for your help for today.”
“Help with what?” And more importantly, could she count her cash and listen to him at the same time?
Probably not, but worth a try.
Fox still wasn’t looking at Henry. Opening the shop was a process, and she never deviated from it. First, she would sign into her electronic cash register. She would count the cash and make plans to go to the bank around the corner if need be. Then, she’d dust every glass surface, and sweep the floor, and vacuum the rug at the center of it. She would clean whatever mess of paperwork she might have been too tired to straighten up at her desk in the backroom on the previous closing. It was only after all of that was done that she would unlock her front door for good – or at least, for the business day. With Henry standing right at the front of her shop before she could get anything done, she already knew she would need to skip at least one of those steps for the sake of time. Maybe she should draft his assistance.
“Well, we’re taking names from the refugees from the Land of Untold Stories today. It’s sort of a mini census. We’re gonna need all the help we can get.”
“And so you came to ask the only real jeweler in town to abandon her post on a Monday morning?” Fox glanced at Henry over the small stack of $10 bills in her hands with a smile. “How could you deprive the people of this fine cursed town their nice, sparkly things?”
Henry laughed and walked farther into the store. “Come on, we could really use your help. You’re good with details.”
“True.”
“You might even pick up on things I’ll miss,” Henry said slowly. Fox glanced at him again with one eyebrow raised. She was halfway through the stack of bills now. “What? It’s true.”
Fox’s other eyebrow joined the first she had raised, and she dropped her gaze. “C’mon Henry, you know I don’t like crowds.” Which wasn’t exactly a lie, but it was more that there were certain people in Storybrooke that she did not want to see. Henry didn’t need to know that – Fox knew he would try to fix it. She shuddered to think of it.
Henry shook his head, seemingly undeterred. “Look, you’re the first person I thought of to ask for help. But I guess if you’d rather not…”
Finally, Fox dropped the stack of bills to the counter and gave Henry her full attention. “Okay, who taught you to lay it on so thick?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Oh, so you’re just naturally an evil genius then?” Fox folded her arms in front of herself. Henry rested his hands on his backpack straps and looked back at her far too serenely, his brow only slightly raised, one corner of his mouth barely lifted. He waited.
Fox held out for as long as she could. She could feel the tension creeping into her shoulders, but try as she might to convince herself otherwise, she knew she was going to help this boy. It had been more than twenty-eight years since she had gotten involved in any sort of heroic deed. Best to get it over with.
She gave as heavy a sigh as she could muster and looked down at her watch. Henry gave a little huff of air that sounded suspiciously like a triumphant chuckle. Fox narrowed her eyes at him but couldn’t fight the smile on her lips. “You’ve got one hour.”
Henry nodded. “That sounds perfect. Thank you.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Fox grumbled. She picked her purse up from the floor beside her. Henry laughed and led her back out into the chilled autumn air.
“So, I don’t think every refugee will be at Granny’s today.”
“Busy, are they?”
“Well, to be honest, I don’t think we could fit everyone,” Henry told her sheepishly.
Fox looked down at him and pressed her lips into a tight line. Henry’s brow pinched right between his eyes and his hands tightened on his backpack straps. Fox sighed through her nose and shook her head, facing forward again. “So, we take names?”
“Yep, and we try to match them up with names in my books.”
“How many books do you have now?”
Henry glanced up at her. “A lot.” Fox gave an impressed grimace.
As she pushed open the front door of Granny’s and held it open for Henry to enter the diner first, she heard the end of Mayor Mills saying something about togetherness. The citizens and refugees present applauded, and Fox wove through the crowd to sit at the bar, setting her purse down in front of her. Fox watched Henry walk to the front of the room to talk to his mom, but Fox stayed put in her seat. The mayor was one of a few people in Storybrooke who she was not quite excited about seeing.
Suddenly, a familiar voice sounded right beside her. “Fox?” When Fox turned to her right, she saw who had spoken.
“Belle!” She immediately opened her arms, and Belle embraced her. “You’re awake! I’m so happy to see you, I was worried.”
“It’s so good to see you too! And to see you here. I never thought I’d see you at Granny’s,” Belle said. Her voice read neutral. Her face read about time. The corner of her mouth was lifted into a satisfied smile.
Fox tucked her hair behind her ear. “Yeah, neither did I.”
“Wait, are you…” Belle sat down and looked around at the crowd. “Are you here to help?” Fox gave her a look, but Belle’s smile only grew.
“Don’t sound so surprised, it happens.”
Belle narrowed her eyes, raised her chin, and folded her arms on the bar top. Her smile was growing more impish by the second. “Right.”
Fox rolled her eyes, but there was nothing for it. She looked at Belle without an ounce of annoyance, and with only a bit of self-consciousness. “Henry asked. Very nicely.”
Belle feigned offense. “Hey, I’m nice,” she insisted.
Fox’s brow flickered upward. “Sure,” she said, dragging out the word. Belle laughed and Fox grinned at her. “So, how are you doing? Are you and the Dark One still–?”
“Oh, no. We’re not together at the moment.” Fox nodded but said nothing and tried to push down the small wave of relief creeping down from the top of her skull and into her formerly tense shoulders. Belle gestured backwards towards the door and said, “Hook is going to give me a place to stay for a bit, but I saw you were here and wanted to say hello.”
“Oh, are you sure? You know you can always stay with me.”
Belle tilted her head and rested a hand on Fox’s arm. “Thank you, but Rumple would expect that. He knows we’re close, and I need some space from him for a bit.”
Fox set her free hand gently atop Belle’s. “Okay. Will you please let me know if you need anything?”
Belle nodded. “Yes. Thank you.” She patted Fox’s arm and stood. “I’ll see you soon.”
“Yes, you will,” said Fox, playfully raising her eyebrows. Belle walked over to where Captain Hook stood by the door.
Almost immediately, Henry sat in the stool Belle had just stood from. Fox turned to him. “So, where are we with that list?” she asked, eager to get to work.
“Here.” Henry slid a mostly blank sheet of notebook paper to her, a ballpoint pen sitting atop it. “My mom just told me who’s missing today, and I’ve already written them down, so now we just need to get down everyone’s name who’s here now,” he explained.
Fox gave a single, hard nod. “You got it, chief.” Henry smiled at her, and she couldn’t help but smile back. Fox looked down at the paper in front of her. There was a column for names and a separate column for number of children. She asked Henry about it.
“Well, Grandma figured with all the untold stories around here, it might be good to keep the kids out of it. And Storybrooke does have a daycare.”
“Huh.” Fox raised her eyebrows. “That’s a good idea.” She looked up to greet the first person to approach her: a little brown man in poufy dress, complete with a large yellow top hat. Fox gave him a smile she hoped was warmer and less tight than it felt. “Hi,” she said, “what’s your name?”
She and Henry had barely finished taking down his information when Henry’s grandparents bustled up to the three of them from somewhere at the back of the diner.
The prince spoke first. “Henry, how’s that list going?”
Snow’s eyes moved to Fox and she hesitated. “Oh, hello.” The man with the top hat – Mitul was his name – moved on to pick up some lunch and Fox turned to give the princess her full attention.
“Hi, sorry, we haven’t met.” Fox held out her hand. “I’m Fox, I run Three Gem Jewelers by the bed and breakfast.” Snow shook her hand warmly.
“That’s right,” David said with recognition in the lines of his forehead. He looked at his wife. “You remember? I got your last anniversary present there.”
Snow’s face lit up. “Oh, that’s right!” She turned to Fox. “It’s so nice to meet you!”
Fox returned her smile. “It’s really nice to meet you too,” she said. “And, honestly, I’m not sure how you two have time for anniversaries with all the fighting and general insanity that happens in this town.” Snow laughed and looked up at David as he responded, wearing an expression not unlike that of a tired parent who has finally remembered why the late nights, early mornings, and very sticky house are all worth it.
“Well, we make time.” He settled an arm around his wife’s shoulders and looked at Henry again. “So, have you written down everyone who’s not here?”
“I think so.”
“Are you sure?” Snow asked. “You’ve got the Dolittles?” Henry nodded. “The Pixleys?” Henry briefly glanced down at the list, then nodded again. Snow gasped. “Oh, and, of course, we can’t forget about Dr. Jekyll,” she added.
“And Mr. Hyde,” David added grimly. Fox, who had been helping someone new, froze and looked up at the Charmings. As soon as the brightly dressed woman at her side had moved on, she spoke up.
“I’m sorry, did you just say ‘Dr. Jekyll?’”
“Well, yes,” said Snow, frowning. Henry rifled through the story book on the counter. It was clear from just one look at the illustrations that this was not his original book. No fairytale princesses to be found here.
“Why, you know him?” asked David, also frowning. Finding the page he was looking for, Henry slid his book closer to Fox. She inclined her head and gazed down at the illustration of a tall, imposing man standing over a much smaller, wide-eyed fellow. They wore the same clothes, but that was as far as their similarities went. For one thing, the man on his feet was clearly scruffier, and sporting a set of mutton chops to boot. The man on the floor had lighter hair, but a more tanned complexion. But the thing that stood out the most was how terrified the man on the floor seemed.
Fox didn’t look up as she answered. “We crossed paths a long time ago.” For a moment, none of them spoke. Then, as if suddenly remembering where she was, Fox took in a breath and lifted her head, looking to the crowd gathering to her left. “So. Who’s next?” The Charmings glanced at one another, but let it go.
“Why don’t we go and direct people? Maybe help with some of this chaos,” David suggested to Snow.
She nodded. “Sounds like a plan. We’ll see you in a bit,” she said to Fox and Henry.
“Okay,” Henry agreed. The Charmings turned to go, and Fox thought they seemed to be muttering to one another. Before she could worry about it, Henry was speaking to her. “Are you okay?” he asked.
Fox swallowed. “I’m fine, Henry. It’s just been a while since I was around this many people.” She glanced around the room and, for a moment, she saw a great hall of stone and a well-dressed turnout. Quickly, though, Granny’s came back into view with its diverse crowd of people who needed help. “It takes some getting used to,” she said distantly.
“Hm.” Henry frowned but said nothing else. Fox tried not to dwell on whatever he might be thinking.
Over the next hour, they made an extensive list. People from dozens of realms had come to Storybrooke, and whenever someone with a familiar name came to the bar, Henry would stop to find them in one of his books. He had brought several with him. And they discovered far more connections between the stories than even Henry would have expected.
Finally, they made it through everyone. So many of the newcomers had questions. Where could they work? Where could they rent? Did something called Billings Root grow in Storybrooke?
Once it had died down, Henry looked over at Fox. “What did you mean?” he asked suddenly. “What you said about Dr. Jekyll, that you’d ‘crossed paths.’” Fox hesitated and considered lying. But then she really looked at Henry. He might have been a kid, but he was still the Author. Whatever she hid from him now, he might just write about on his own. And if Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde were both in Storybrooke, all of the townspeople would find out the truth sooner or later.
Fox glanced around. She had known that getting involved with the Land of Untold Stories would be a mistake.
“Just be careful,” she said quietly, still looking around the room. “Jekyll wasn’t–”
“Henry.” Granny appeared before him, behind the bar. Fox jumped, having been too busy looking in every other direction to notice Granny approaching. She turned back to the bar. “One of these new folks is trying to figure out the jukebox. I don’t have the patience for this, can you take care of it?”
“Of course.” Granny smiled at him, gave Fox a nod, and moved on. When Henry turned back to the bar, Fox was looking down at her watch.
“Oh, y’know what, I’ve actually gotta get going too. Someone’s coming into the shop for a ring resizing and I can’t cancel on her.” She slid her list towards Henry. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay. I think we got through everyone anyway.”
“Maybe you should give Violet a call,” Fox suggested as she stood and straightened her jacket. Henry gave her a look, but he couldn’t fight the blush rising to his cheeks. Fox chuckled and swung her purse onto her shoulder. “I’ll see you next Tuesday after school for cocoa and literature?” If there was one thing Fox had done plenty of, it was reading. Having been swept up in the second curse, she had missed what could have been twenty-eight years of becoming accustomed to this world. As soon as she was settled in, Fox had set about learning everything she could about Storybrooke, and about the Land Without Magic.
“Definitely.” Henry smiled up at her. Fox returned the smile, patted his shoulder, and bustled out the front door.
Normally she enjoyed the walk, but if Jekyll and Hyde were in town, it was best she lay low. Fox knew she couldn’t hide forever, but she could try. A few steps down the sidewalk, she found herself jogging with no real desire to stop. Before she knew it, she was back at her apartment, closed for the business day and concealed from her own untold story.