maskormenacelogs | A celebration, of sorts. In the sun. At the beach. Gross.

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A celebration, of sorts. In the sun. At the beach. Gross.

WHO: Mr. Gold, Doc Brown
WHERE: The beach, Heropa.
WHEN: Not long after Doc finished his first semester teaching.
WHAT: A visit to the beach. Also the unveiling of Doc's new car.
WARNINGS: None, really. Will update as needed.

Mr. Gold was wearing short sleeves. Surely, this was a sign of the end times. He wasn't accustomed to going about with his arms bare, even before he was Mr. Gold, and yet here he was, standing before a mirror wearing absolutely no black at all, a pair of white linen trousers and button-up shirt that left the majority his arms scandalously bare and honestly still hinted at his bare skin underneath -- far more than comfortable for a man accustomed to leaving his home with no fewer than three layers between himself and the open air. And the sandals.

Sandals, for godssakes.

All the while he wondered when he lost control of his life.

He fumbled for his sunglasses and grabbed a few more things from the kitchen before adjourning back to the shop downstairs, where he had most everything ready to go for the trip. To start, a beach umbrella and blanket and other related sundries that would prevent him from touching his now woefully under-insulated ass to sunscorched sand. Along with that, he tucked away a couple books and had now fully stocked a picnic basket.

For someone going along more for the company than the location, he looked like he'd overpacked.

Gold heard Emmett pull up and found himself shifting bits of the pile into different positions, like he could make it look more organized than it already was. His companion had told him he was coming with the new car -- something he had heard of in previous weeks but seen nothing of, and since Emmett wanted it to be a surprise, he'd been patient about giving him his secrets.

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Emmett was over the moon with happiness, so to speak. He'd successfully graded the last few finals, received evaluations, and all was well. He was finally settled in a career he loved, living close to the person he loved. What could be better?

Spending time with him, of course! He pulled up in his newly redesigned treasure: a hovering model. He pressed a button to drop the wheels to the ground, rolled down the window...and smiled. Now that was a sight for sore eyes.

"Countering my tendency to forget something, I see," he smiled, stepping out and popping the trunk. "May be necessary once we arrive, but I assure you we'll be traveling in comfort."

Of course it hovered. Gold opened the shop door just in time to see its wheels return to the ground. Still, the model was finer looking than he was expecting, given when Doc came from and where his aesthetic tastes tended to fall. Still more flashy than he was given to ride around in himself, but so very Emmett.

He had to smile.

A subtle levitation spell brought everything out with him, and unless you were looking good and hard at him you couldn't tell he wasn't carrying all the supplies himself. What might start the ball rolling in that direction is the fact that nobody would expect a man who walked with a cane to bring this much all in one go. The door politely and lock behind him, however.

He was about to ask him to open the drunk, but Emmett was a step ahead of him today. He packed what would fit and chose to carry the picnic basket personally. It was his first thought, because he was expecting the dogs to be wiggling around in the back seat, but even spying their absence he decided it was wise.

"I feel like I'm wearing someone else's clothes," he admitted as he sank into the passenger seat. Someone who was much bigger than him.

A look around, now that he has a chance to take in the interior.

"She's lovely, though. I'm trying to imagine when you had time to get this done."

Edited 2017-05-21 03:38 (UTC)

For his part, he was wearing a version of his usual attire: pink luau shirt, cargo shorts, sandals, and a silver visor. The typical tourist look, but he loved it.

"I worked at it here and there, afternoons between classes and coming home. It's finally absolutely perfect---wouldn't dare let you be seen in less," he said confidently. But as far as what he was seen in?

"Oh, and someone has excellent taste," Emmett added with a bright smile, pushing his visor up to look at Gold properly. "You look even more radiant than usual."

"So you're saying you made this with me in mind?" Said with bemused skepticism. And why wouldn't he be? He remembered one of the first things he said to him, after they started this -- that he didn't know how to react to being courted.

...He also didn't want to be that person, who was endlessly demanding, high maintenance.

He didn't want to be Lacey.

Emmett cut through his reverie with that last bit, and he blinked in surprise, having to laugh. "Doctor, honestly--"

Radiant. Really.

"With us in mind," he corrected gently, running a pointed finger over the hover button. He continued to smile at that charming laugh, then found himself leaning over to sneak a kiss for the road.

"Ready to go?"

The hovering took a second to get used to, so he perhaps braced himself (a little noticeably, because he was started) against the frame before putting on his seat belt. He shot Doc a sheepish look.

"Ready when you are."

"Excellent. I do hope you'll enjoy."

Hovering meant fewer bumps, and old joints would appreciate that---at least, that was his thought process. He pushed them on a smooth glide toward the shores, whistling a song or two along the way, and eventually hovered right up to the driveway of a simple-looking white house near the sands. From there, it would be a very short walk to the shoreline

"Is there anything you'd like to place inside, or are we setting up camp?" he asked, thinking back on all those items in the trunk.

"Inside?"

Gold leaned forward a little to get a better look at the building. It was quaint, the rentals that dotted the beaches in this state everywhere, he was sure. But it was not a long way from where they lived, so he never gave much thought to getting one.

Not that this was the first time Doc had ever done such a thing.

"...I didn't pack for it, truthfully. I just thought we were visiting for the day."

Emmett slapped his forehead. "No, no, of course not...I completely forgot to tell you in all that last-minute preparation---but yes, we have this for the night. I'll take us on a return trip to retrieve things this evening."

He unlocked the door and tossed his own meager bag inside, shaking his head. He'd have to visit a fisherman for tonight anyway, it'd be just another stop.

"But it's close enough to listen to the waves, well-furnished, and the bedroom's beautiful," he added with a small smile.

Gold couldn't help but smile. Of course, the last time they rented a place, they hadn't reached the level of intimacy they shared now (though he spent the entire weekend mulling over whether the expense meant he was expected to -- provide, or not). "Is it?"

He figured Doc wouldn't have mentioned it if it weren't special.

"Then I'll look forward to it tonight. Unless -- you wanted to wait to go down to the beach?"

Emmett smiled mysteriously, shaking his head and leading the way to the sands instead. It was before the big season, so perhaps less crowded than it would be in a week's time. Perfect for their purposes.

"That particular bedroom gains most of its character at night. No, it's best we breathe the sea air first. Here, can I help you set up?"

"I'll take your word for it." And sure, he could take in some fresh air for a while first. ...Under shade. He'd already slipped his shades on by now so one couldn't see him glowering at all the light.

Gold fetched everything from the trunk with relative ease, using the same little charm to bring everything along, but when Doc asked, he didn't hesitate to hand a thing or two off to him.

"Thank you."

They chose to plant the umbrella far enough from the surf that their spot wouldn't get caught in the tide, but near enough that they wouldn't have to shout at each other to interact. He set out to lay their blankets around that, create his place to settle down -- perhaps with a little magic to help. The sand was already troublesome in sandles and with a limp, so it was called for.

Sitting now, he dug into his bag to find the sunscreen.

"So what are your plans?"

Emmett busied himself with helping him however possible, arranging and installing. When all appeared to be ready, he grinned and sat down, immediately pushing his feet off the blanket and running sand between his toes.

"A sandcastle construction. Maybe a dip in the ocean if I can muster the courage---it's early in the summer, so the water's doubtlessly still somewhat cool. Then, I'll have myself a nap, then prepare a dinner upon waking."

He smiled. "And yourself?"

It was heartening to hear Emmett was up to the task of cooking, and spoke of it as if it were no feat at all -- in a year that was quite the transformation, really. He'd thankfully only packed light snacks just in case either of them got a little peckish early in this venture. They had the whole day, after all.

He figured he might pop home and grab a change of clothes during Doc's scheduled repose, then. Spare him the additional trip.

"You know, I've never seen someone build a sandcastle before."

Of course, he was aware of the concept just like anyone from Storybrooke with cursed memories might be -- at the very least through media.

"So I may have to watch."

As for the "dip in the ocean," that was probably going to have to be a spectator sport for him, as well -- he was suddenly quite aware that with the way he was dressed, if he got in the water in thin white linen, he'd probably come back out as good as naked.

He swallowed.

"Beyond that --" bringing out a rather hefty volume, titled Florida Statutes, Constitution, and Laws, "-- I have some light reading I can do."

Emmett sat in the sand a short distance away, drawing a circle that would eventually come to be his moat. He looked back up at the mention of the book and grinned, the light of recognition in his eyes.

"You're pursuing a law career, or so I've heard? I don't know if I can be of any assistance, I highly doubt it...but I pursued a law career as a young man before my attention turned to science. I know how rigorous the work is, and I know you'll be excellent at it."

"Oh, I'm quite adept, I assure you."

Though he tried to imagine Doc practicing law, what kind of person he might have been, then. He was so spontaneous -- chaotic, even, that it was hard to picture.

"I can't think of you being very happy in that field," he admitted. "What drew you to it?"

Emmett very deliberately poured water over his small circle as he thought, then dug his hands into the sand to sculpt it. The memories weren't always his happiest.

"My father was a judge---Judge Erhardt Brown, a self-made man with a stellar reputation. When I was seventeen, he brought me into the courthouse as a junior clerk with the intent that I would focus on law in college, then enter a prestigious law school as he had. I had the academic aptitude for the task, but not the desire for it..."

He started to pull the base of his castle together, molding it with his usual precision.

"I had a greater affinity for the sciences, and often conducted experiments in secret to avoid his wrath, but I didn't gain the courage to fully break away from my father until the fall of 1931. That was when I first saw Frankenstein, and that was when I realized I could pursue greatness by taking risks---though not necessarily that particular risk. I'm too fond of breaking rules to be a lawyer, but I'll help however I can."

"Well, I do like that about you," he admitted. "But I very much like knowing a system well enough to take what I wish by using their own rules against them."

While his cursed memories had awareness of Frankenstein outside of the very real man that he knew and whom he'd dealt with in the past. Hearing that sordid tale spoken of as a source of inspiration -- well, on one hand, he was not surprised. On the other, he felt a spark of admiration for that. He could respect it, even if he and Dr Frankenstein were in reality little better than contentious toward each other.

"You give me something human and less machinelike to come home to, and you'll have done more than enough," he said gently.

Emmett had to admire that about him. It was certainly an effective way to protect oneself, and Gold's careful work could take him so far. His sculpting came along more quickly now, as he gained a surer idea of what he was doing.

"You're worried I'm going to start making myself one of Frankenstein's monsters?" he chuckled, shaking his head. "Worry not. I'll be here for you, warts and all."

He pulled out some of his precision sculpting tools, guiding the walls and towers higher. A replica of a certain famous castle seemed to be taking shape there.

"I just mean that sometimes work like that doesn't make the most pleasant of persons, myself included. And I've been working with contracts for centuries."

He set the book aside for the moment to watch what Doc was forming.

"So when I'm not at work, I --" A frown. "I'd like to just, not bring it back with me, if that makes sense."

"Ah." Emmett's gaze softened immediately, and after finishing the point on the highest tower, he rose and dusted the sand from his shorts. He knelt close to Gold's chair and touched his hand.

"Then you needn't worry about that. I've got plenty of ideas to thoroughly take your mind off of it," he whispered. And he'd put some of them into practice tonight, when Gold had sufficient study time under his belt.

He leaned up for a brief kiss then, though his mind was now wandering along a different track. For a brief moment, he'd imagined them coming home to each other every night---which wasn't too far off from the current reality, but still something to give time and careful consideration.

"Promises, promises," Gold teased.

Why was it even such a worry? Sure, he would have done what he could to keep his dealings to himself, leave Belle uninvolved as much as possible, back in Storybrooke. Because otherwise she would leave him. She liked to think him reformed.

He hadn't really gotten up to much trouble here, other than not getting registered. Other than that little deal with Count Dooku, which thankfully didn't end up having to turn ugly.

Truthfully, he was starting to wonder how eager Doc would be to sit at his feet like this, to steal the odd kiss or share the ocean air with him if he sat down and explicitly told him how many people he'd killed in cold blood. Or how many lives he'd ruined with a poorly-read contract.

If he did this -- because someone should, and no matter how many magic brooms he made, the haze of home and hearth couldn't drown out his restlessness anymore -- inevitably how nasty was he going to appear to him?

"I'm still -- at this point only considering. Preparing. ...The Bar Exam only comes a couple times per year."

"That much I remember," he nodded. He certainly didn't miss the rigorous study of something he wasn't fully interested in, and he hadn't even made it to law school. It had been useful to be familiar with law at a few points in his life, but thankfully that was behind him now.

"But I think it's an excellent idea. We're at a distinct disadvantage in the legal environment, and it's an important niche to fill. You have the talent for it."

The mysterious castle on the hill was taking shape now. He carved windows with a careful hand, smoothed a winding pathway with his fingers.

Soon enough, it was finished to his satisfaction, and he found himself pulling at his shirt.

"I think it's time for that dip. You might want to tilt the umbrella this way---I may flee when confronted with the cold."

He stripped off his shirt without a care in the world, realizing only then that he'd forgotten to apply sunscreen. Fortunately it hadn't been too terribly long, but...

"Ah...could you pass the sunscreen, please?"

In fairness, if he did take up in law, he might have a chance to tighten the thumb screws on the people keeping them here. What he wanted, though, was a means to gain influence and favor -- favors, really. Because while he could go after the military, who was to say they wouldn't just...send him back to Storybrooke? Where he now knew he was going to die.

"I'll keep a towel handy."

Gold shuddered a little at even the thought of getting near the water -- he assumed no matter what that it would be cold. He bent to draw the bottle out of his basket, offering it to Emmett.

"You're certain of this?"

Emmett slathered himself with the contents, blinking as he smeared it over his nose and cheekbones.

"Absolutely," he said with a toothy smile. "Wouldn't be a proper beach day without a dip."

And he would not be dissuaded. Once the sunscreen had had some time to dry, he stood, stretched, and set off at a jaunty pace for the waves. He made a small noise of distress at the shock of cold water but pressed on, determined to bathe in the salty waters.

He managed this for about five minutes, teeth chattering against the force of his determination to not immediately run, before he came hurtling up the sands for reprieve. He knelt next to the sandcastle, a safe distance from Gold, and reluctantly reached for the towel.

"...the frigidity is supposed to be wonderfully invigorating. Can't quite feel enough of my toes to be invigorated."

Edited 2017-05-22 02:56 (UTC)

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A celebration, of sorts. In the sun. At the beach. Gross.

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