If what you're doing it for is that important to you, darling, then you won't. I expect you've got the determination to overcome whatever is going on and do it.
If you can last in Wonderland, then you can definitely last here.
[ He would disagree on the assertion that he lasted in Wonderland at all. After all, it's more accurate to say he lost his mind there. But he's trying to be less of a miserable asshole, damn it. ]
This is a far cry from Wonderland. I actually like it here, for one thing.
[ After their brief exchange and an apparent 'yes' -- Gold now finds himself sitting at a table in a cafe near enough to his apartment to walk to, wondering if Jefferson will even come. It's not often he asks to meet with people, especially not for casual conversation, but he has to start somewhere, and Jefferson answers. So he is taking a chance.
This place...has been Hell for him so far, with a number of realities he'd come here to deliberately get away from, and some new ones he never knew he'd need to avoid.
Like not being known, by people that should. By people he might really need if things keep going the way they are going. ]
[ After recent events-- recent hiding and wallowing and breakdowns and arguments-- Jefferson's back to making efforts to keep his head on straight. The fact that the winter solstice (or Yule, Christmas, whatever) is approaching makes the urge to stay inside and isolate especially tempting, but he has to remind himself: if he avoids people, he'll never get his incentive. And if he doesn't work on his problems while he's got the chance to even try here, then how can he even claim to be a fit father for Grace when he finally does get her back?
The festive chatter on the network and around the city reminds Jefferson all too keenly of what (who) is missing from his life, and that's what's making life even more difficult than usual. Every Christmas in Storybrooke, he spent alone, sometimes drinking, usually crying. Sure, he didn't even consider himself a religious man, and certainly not a Christian, but from what he understood, Christmas was about family, being together with loved ones. He didn't have that, but he'd watch Grace and her parents through his telescope and pretend that he was there with her, giving her every gift she could want. He'd do it until it became too difficult to watch any longer, or until the family tidied up the shredded wrapping paper and empty boxes, and Grace ran off to play with her new toys.
Remember why you're here. He tells himself that over and over again as he leaves his apartment to go meet up with Gold. And by the time he gets to the coffee shop, he can even put on a charming, friendly smile, the face he'd wear during his rare moments of socializing in Storybrooke.
After ordering his tea at the counter, he joins Gold at his table, removing his coat and draping it over the back of his chair before he sits. ]
[ The fact that Jefferson is a lot better at putting his game face on than Gold is right now is a testament to one of the reasons why he used to work with him in the first place. The Dark One doesn't look unhealthy? But definitely like he thinks he's out of place -- even a touch paranoid. But then so many people from Storybrooke have just sprouted out of the ground since his arrival, it would have been a wonder if he were not looking for more to appear. ]
Oh. Good. [ He takes in Gold's demeanor with some interest, though it's not too apparent on his face, then glances around the coffee shop, as if to check if there's somebody whose presence here is troubling his former employer. ] This is a nice place, isn't it? The city, I mean.
[ Though it's a little stifling, in that he'd love to go out and explore the whole wide world, he certainly prefers Eudio to Storybrooke. ]
[ He finds himself nodding, though 'nice' seems to have at some point evolved into a fairly neutral word to say of a person, place, or thing that could say nothing without being rude. ]
It's different enough to matter.
[ Because he needs to be far away from everything Storybrooke right now. ]
Though I could honestly do without a number of the familiar faces. Present company excluded, of course.
"Everything is horrible but give it two weeks." That's applicable at most times there.
[ He hasn't exactly been racking his brain on how to talk about all this if it comes up without Jefferson shutting down on him, but he's at least aware enough to know he needs to be careful what he says. ]
[ Jefferson's content to leave it at that. It's a topic he doesn't want to dwell on, and besides, it's still a bit odd, speaking with the man who's both Rumpelstiltskin and Mr. Gold. Jefferson looks up as one of the baristas sets his tea down on the table, and he offers a smile in thanks before she goes back to the counter. ]
So, how have you been, ah... Have you been keeping busy? [ There. Better than asking Rumpelstiltskin how his sex life's been. ]
[ There's a little twitch in his jaw as Jefferson tries not to frown. It's just that he hadn't danced in a good long time, and his last dance partner was, well. Priscilla.
Not that Gold would know, he supposes. It's not like they really kept in touch after he left the Dark One's employ. ]
I haven't danced in years. Even when I went to a party here that was geared toward that sort of thing.
I don't think any kind of party is my kind, these days.
[ Not that he expected him to dance; he just saw him more in those sorts of atmospheres, even if he just lingered in a corner. ]
...It was not my intention to bring up unhappy matters, when we first spoke. I was not aware there would be many of us here, much less from different timelines.
But it leaves no question as to why you're here -- which is admirable. [ And knowing spared him at least part of the shock in all of Hook's blathering. He winces a little. ] ...And you're going to have to let me know when I'm out of line; I'm so very out of practice when it comes to socializing without a clear agenda.
I don't think anything I do is admirable. [ His voice is soft, almost as if he's a child admitting to doing some wrong, like he thinks Gold is about to chide him for the admission.
And then he stirs his tea, if only to have something to do, and clears his throat awkwardly. ]
I can imagine. Even the Mr. Gold of Storybrooke always seemed to have one.
You came here with the right intentions. It's a start.
[ He bit his lip at the remark -- well, when you're everyone's landlord it's no surprise when the first thing out of their mouths is usually "But I already paid rent" or "it's not due until next week is it?" ]
Is it any wonder he tried internet dating, bearing that in mind?
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