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Secret Santa for FrenchPosie (Ouat- Gold (M))


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Secret Santa for @frenchposie

Hello!  I hope you enjoy!  It’s been so long since I’ve done any ouat, but I actually had a ton of fun writing this for you. They really are fascinating characters to explore.

Fandom: OUAT

Timeframe:  During the 28 year curse.



Mr. Gold’s alarm went off at 8:15am, just as it did every morning, giving him just enough time to shower, dress, have his standard toast and tea, and make his way down to the pawn shop for a 9am opening time.  In a small town like Storybrooke, there was never any reason to open earlier.  Business, he found, was quite routine.

There was nothing any different about this day in particular, and he knew for certain there wouldn’t be, which is why Mr. Gold dreaded his arrival to work.  Anyone else might have dreaded it for the monotony of living the same day over and over, no one to speak to about it—least of all Regina, who he couldn’t dare allow to find out that he was more aware than he let on.  But for Mr. Gold, repetitiveness was an easy trade for 28 years of wealthy relaxation after centuries as the Dark One.  No, for him, the reason he felt dread pool in the pit of his stomach every morning was…


... dust.

The pawn shop, as it turned out, was absolutely covered in it.  A petty torturous idea of Regina’s making, no doubt—a last little lashing out from his prodigy to plunge him into eternal misery. 

There were options, of course.  He could dust it, give it all a good cleaning, but that usually sent his sinuses into overdrive and made his nose ache by the time lunch rolled around.  And it’s not as if that did any good.  Given the nature of his curse, everything reset every day—including the dust.  All his hard work would be steadily vanished by the next morning, no matter what measures he took and attempted. 

Unfortunately, hiring someone to come and do it for him in the morning was also out of the question.  There were too many curiosities from the other land, too many dangers that he couldn’t risk falling into the wrong hands.

That left Mr. Gold with one third and final option—simply leaving it.  He could hardly stand to move anything, for fear of sending dust flying deep into his irritated nasal passages, but it was easier to handle than everything hitting him at once.

Already today, Gold was regretting that he had no better options.  He’d knocked over a particularly dusty volume with his cane upon entering, and the tiny particles were making swift work of his nose.  Almost annoyingly, it hadn’t been enough to induce a sneeze, and so he stood in tickly torment behind the counter, willing it to go away.

Gold sniffled in an attempt to clear the itch, but instead it buried itself deeper, the small particles wreaking havoc on his nose.  Already he could feel the congestion building, a small trickle threatening to drip if he didn’t sniff again.  He groaned and attempted to blow his nose into a fine embroidered handkerchief, but in this land he had learned his nose was especially sensitive, and the pressure of the cloth against his twitching nostrils only increased the irritation.

Well, if it wouldn’t go away on its own, there was really only one thing he could do short of suffering in a ticklish hell for the unforeseeable future.

With practiced ease, Gold brought a finger up to his nose and gave it a rub back and forth with his knuckle, sighing into a hitch of breath as the dust seemed to rub deeper into his most sensitive membranes.  His nostrils twitched, breath escaping in staccatos as the itch increased, bringing him closer and closer to the brink.  Finally, with a sniff that sealed his fate, Gold felt the sneeze jump through his nose and smothered his mouth in the handkerchief just as he burst forward and bent at the waist.

Hehh….hhhnnnneeehhhhh… huhhhuhh… huuaaaaa… HuaTTCHHHHHHehh!  HuTCHHHiehh! TCHH TCHH TCHHHHHHEHhhhhhhhhhhh!

Gold was breathless by the end of the fit, and blew his nose loudly into the handkerchief, groaning in annoyance.  Already he could feel his nose growing sore for the day, and he’d only just arrived. 

He passed the hours as he usually did—a bit of scheming, checking to make sure everything remained where it belonged, attending to the customers that wandered in looking for assistance of an entirely different kind, and, when nothing else needed his attention, working his way through yet another book. 

Then, as though the fates had determined to subject him to an entirely different kind of torture, the bells jingled above the door to alert him he had company in the form of Mayor Mills.

Now, normally, Gold didn’t mind Regina’s presence.  It amused him to mess with her, see how far he could push her curiosity about what exactly he remembered without giving all his cards away.  He even enjoyed when she tried to push back, challenge him on anything and everything she could because she was bored of all the years of the same thing.  It even gave him a bit of joy to see how his little puppet suffered in all the emptiness around her.

But today, the sneezing fit from earlier had given Mr. Gold a headache, and he had no interest in whatever fires the Mayor wished to stoke today.

He plastered on a smile in spite of himself and set down his book, deciding it better not to let on to his internal agony with his best sparring partner so near.

“Madam Mayor, what can I do for you this morning?”

Regina walked forward, looking ever so much the Queen even in his dusty pawn shop, her heels clacking against the floor in just the right pitch to set his head throbbing. 

She was frowning, which was never a good sign. 

“I’m looking for something,” Regina husked, running a finger along his dusty counter.  Inspecting her work, he supposed.  There was a flash of satisfaction in the form of a smirk that broke out across her face, quickly covered with a grimace that came just a second too late to escape Gold’s attention. 

“I need a gift.  A family heirloom, actually.  I believe it may have been… pawned here by someone quite a ways back.”  Regina spoke, words chosen carefully in a way that would normally have amused him greatly.  Now, however, he desperately wanted her to leave.

“Well,” Gold paused, taking a step towards the counter and gesturing to the vast array of items filling his shop, “I’m afraid you’ll have to be a bit more specific, Madam Mayor.”

“It’s a small figure,” Regina slapped her hands down on the counter, sending a cloud of dust into the air that made Gold’s eyes widen dramatically.  He made to hold his breath, but there would be only so long his lungs could manage before he’d have to inhale it.  “Perhaps…” Regina picked up a little chess piece from the counter beside her and blew on it, sending even more dust right into his face.  Surprised, Gold, inhaled, sucking the little torturous particles right into his nasal cavities.  Immediately, he felt the itch take root, and steeled his face to try and hide it.

But Regina was observant, and though impatient, she wouldn’t be thwarted so easily.  He could see the wheels turning in her head, knew that she’d probably picked up on the slight quivering of his nose.

“No, not this,” she said with a sigh, setting it down.  Gold knew perfectly well she’d never thought it was that.  “It’s a small figure of a horse.”

Gold frowned.  He knew exactly what she was referring to, and normally would never have given it to her easily.  Regina needing something from him was an opportunity he never liked to waste.  But now, he was stuck in a dilemma, because the tickle in his nose was growing stronger with every sniff.  He tried to breathe from his mouth, but that only caused it to hitch, furthering the threatening sneezes along.

If he didn’t get rid of Regina fast, he’d never make it.  And sneezing in front of Regina—giving her that satisfaction—was out of the question.

“Ahh, yes.  I believe it’s over this way.”  Gold gestured to a case in the corner of the shop and strode over, cane in hand, rushing as much as he could without being too obvious about it.  Regina followed.

It burned, ached in his sinuses.  Gold risked rubbing his finger against the sensitive nostril just once while his back was turned to Regina, but that did nothing to quell the itch.  He nearly groaned out loud at the sight of the cupboard in question.  Undoubtedly, dust would get all over him when he opened it—and unless he opened it, he’d never get rid of Regina. 

“Well?” she pressed, when he merely continued staring at it desperately.

Holding his breath, Gold gently tugged the cupboard open, hoping to dislodge as little dust as possible.  The shelves were full of trinkets, all equally as dusty, and his nose wanted to cry just looking at it all.  This was a dangerous warzone, and if there was anything he’d taught Regina, it was how to battle.

Without warning, the Queen leaned in and blew on the middle shelf, clearing off the items to better see which one might be hers.  Gold felt wild with desperation as the particles coated him, getting into his lungs as he gasped for a breath, adding to the torment in his nose.

In the background, he could faintly hear Regina declaring she’d found her item and inquiring of its price, but Gold could do nothing. 

The sneezes were coming, and strongly at that.

Hehh…. Hh-hhhuhhhh…heeeeTCHHHHew! TCHoo! TCHHoo! Huh…hungggg….hhhehhhh…ETCHHHHHH!  ETCHHH! ETCHIew!

He grabbed the cupboard for support, still gasping for breath between the sneezes that bent him nearly in half with their power.  His cane long forgotten on the floor beside him, it was all Gold could do not to fall to the ground as he rounded up for more.


He snuffled thickly, reaching for his handkerchief.  Gold’s eyes widened in panic when they came back empty, until he heard a familiar laugh to his side and looked over at Regina. 

She had taken it off him at some point, no doubt when he was caught in the torrent of his sneezes, and was using it to dust off her little horse with entirely too much pleasure.

“Oh, would you like this?” she asked innocently.

Gold wheezed, “Y…yeeehhhhhhhhshhhhhhhhhhhiew!”

Regina, oh so kindly, held the dusty cloth teasingly up to his nose—close enough for him to inhale all the tickly little particles, but not to blow his nose to try and dispel them.

HehhhhhhhhhhTCHHHHHHHIEW!  TCHIEW! TCHHHHEHHHHHHHHHHHOOO! He sneezed openly, no doubt misting her hand still clutching the handkerchief teasingly in front of him, brushing it lightly against his twitching nostrils every few seconds.

“P-p-puhh… huhhTCHew! Pihhh… plleeehhhhhhTCHHiew! Please!” He called out, knowing the magic words would force Regina to stop, but it did nothing to ease her triumphant grin for the damage was already done.

“You seem unwell, Gold.  Perhaps you should take the day off,” Regina said with a smirk.  “I’m taking this—you can put it on my tab for later.”  

And with that, her work done here, Regina strutted out the door.

Gold could hardly be bothered to care about the horse as he blew his nose desperately into the still dusty cloth.  It did little to ease his throbbing tickle, only replacing it with more irritants, but the pressure building in his head eased somewhat.

HehhTCHHHIEW!  TCHIEW!  He sneezed again, making his way to the shop exit to lock up for the night as he clearly was no longer in any state to work.  He would get her back for this if it was the last thing he did.

Revenge wouldn’t have to wait for the 28 years to end, Gold thought with a smirk.  Because Regina, if he remembered right, was allergic to cats. 



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13 hours ago, frenchposie said:

Omgggg im drooling!!  This is delicious!!! Thank you so much!!

Awe yay, I'm so glad you liked it!  

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