Jefferson was pacing impatiently back and forth in the hallway, with him every few minutes cracking the door open to see if Emma Swan (also known as 'The Savior') was still working on that magic hat he asked her to make a few hours before. While Mary Margaret (formerly Snow White), was comfortably tied up in another room down the hall, Emma Swan was a wild card, and for all he knew, Emma could have snuck out the window and find another way to save Mary Margaret. He stops his pacing, and with careful care, opens the door. Emma was still working, slowly cutting up some dark fabric, and-
Emma drops the fabric onto the table, and crosses her arms in frustration. "What did I say about spying on me twice in five minutes?"
Jefferson quickly closes the door, and gave a deep sigh. A few hours ago, he was with the room with Emma Swan, giving her tips and hints on how to make a perfect hat. Emma however, called it 'hat criticism'. It wasn’t his fault that she's terrible at it. She eventually had enough of his tips and hints and told him give her some personal space. Jefferson argued that she could be planning a way to save her friend and figure out a way to escape.
Emma reluctantly ended up allowing him to check up on her once every five minutes, and only once every five minutes. Jefferson wasn't the one to follow the rules of agreement as intended (an old bad habit he desperately wanted to get rid of). Still, Jefferson tried his best to follow her terms.
Which is why he was pacing impatiently back and forth in the hallway, with him every few minutes cracking the door open to check up on the woman. It was safe to say that Jefferson was doing a good job at it, minus the occasional slip-up.
Like the slip-up he just did a minute ago. Jefferson begins to start pacing again, and decides to check up on Mary Margaret when three simple sounds stop him in his tracks.
Knock-knock-knock.
When the silent and loneliness truly gets to Jefferson, he imagines Grace knocking on his door, calling out 'Papa! Papa!'. When get to the front door though, his little girl was never there, remembering that she has no idea who he is in this blasted world. Jefferson knew it wasn't those times, but it was surreal that someone would want to knock on his door. No, it was surreal that anyone could even find his home. Its placement made it impossible for anyone to find it unless he shows them the way there.
"Emma, are you still working on the hat?"
"Yeah."
"Good, because I...I have to check up on something. When I come back, you're going to let me see your progress."
"Does this 'check up' have to do with that loud knocking?" There was something off about her tone there.
"Yes..."
"O-kay then. I'll be waiting right here." What was with that tone of hers?
Jefferson slowly walks down the stairs, pondering to himself about something Emma said to him before. Earlier in the night, as he cornered Emma and Mary Margaret, Emma told him that she called for backup. Jefferson easily called out her bluff, as he knew Emma didn't want anyone to know that Mary Margaret is missing. Besides, Emma didn't have anyone else to call for back up since former Sheriff Graham Hubert (once formerly known as the Huntsman and victim of the Evil Queen) passed away and when Ruby (Red Riding Hood) quit her temporary job there.
At least, that;s what Jefferson thought. He wasn't sure what he thought now, as he is currently worried about other things. Like who was knocking at his door.
He carefully looks out his window, hoping to make sure that whoever was out there didn't see him. For the last twenty-eight years, Jefferson had perfected the art of spying on others, a skill he used for to his advantage whenever he wanted to see Grace when he was ever in town. Those times were not as often as he wished though. Granny Lucas thought he was leering at Ruby when he was at the diner one day, which made Granny keep a sharp eye on Jefferson whenever he's there. Not that he could blame her. Granny took a disliking to him when he sweet-talked one of the waitresses for a cheaper meal (something Jefferson truly regretted).
At least in the comforts of his house (not home), Jefferson can do whatever he wants. From the window, he saw a tall, dark haired man, pacing back and forth from his porch, face turned away from his sight. The man was obviously waiting for someone to answer the door. His leather jacket was slightly worn, and for some reason, he was favoring one leg more than the other. Out in the driveway was the man's motorcycle.
So this is the Stranger, thought Jefferson, staring at the man slightly longer than he intended. On his few visits in town, people were talking about the Stranger that recently came out of the bloom. Jefferson, for reasons he can't fathom, was optimistic of catching a glimpse of the man to figure him out. After all, minus Emma and Henry's arrival, no one from the outside world had ever come into town. The last time that happened was over twenty-eight years ago, when that poor father and son came for simply being at the wrong place at the wrong time.
To Jefferson's ill surprise, he quickly learned where the Stranger mostly hangs out.
It was at the diner.
Where Granny has a sharp eye on Jefferson.
Jefferson gave up any hope of catching a sight of the man after that.
Until now, that is. Jefferson could feel his arms getting goose bumps. What was the Stranger doing here, of all places? The Stranger turns around to face the door. Jefferson didn't have time to draw back into hiding though.
"Were you just standing there for the last few minutes?" The Stranger was lashing out at him.
Jefferson took a deep breath, composed himself, and walked over to the front door. Hands on the lock, Jefferson exhale and faked a worried look on his face. It was time to put his 'curse persona' into use (a suave, but not quite polite rich man who can charm anyone he wants).
"I'm so sorry about that. It's just that I normally don't get visitors at these hours," Jefferson calmly explains to the man. Jefferson kept the door open enough for the man to see the inside, but blocked the path in case the Stranger wanted to invite himself in.
"Oh. I should apologize then. I didn;t realize I freaked you out. It's just that..." The Stranger trails off, as if he didn't want to say what he wants to say next. He was clutching his fists quite tight.
"What it is?"
"Well, it;s just that I see the Sheriff's car out here. She said she was in the area, and that I should come out here as soon as possible."
Well, this was a certainly a turn of events. It seems that the dear Stranger was in cahoots with Emma after all. Guess she wasn't lying about the backup then, thought Jefferson, causally leaning on door. Two can play at this game.
"Spot."
"What?"
"You're Spot's owner, right? The sheriff mentioned she was looking for a lost dog in this area a few hours ago. I gave her directions and send her on her way." Jefferson saw the Stranger clutching his fists tighter than before.
"Is that so?" asks the Stranger.
"Indeed. Had you been with her, you could have gotten the same directions from the map I gave to her," Jefferson answers, resisting the urge of his 'persona' to tease the man. "I'm curious, how did you lost your dog so late at night?"
"In my defense, I didn't have Spot with me at the time," replies the Stranger, taking another step closer to Jefferson. "I left him with Emma to dog sit. However, Emma forgot to tell me that she had a prior engagement, so she left him with an acquaintance of ours. Said acquaintance lost Spot, and well, you probably know the rest of the story."
Indeed I do, Jefferson thought to himself. "I’m quite sorry about your dog. If you're wondering where Emma could be, I say check Route 6. She left her car here as she was afraid of running Spot over accidentally."
"Thanks," says the Stranger, and was about to turn around when he paused. "You know, I just realize something. I haven't seen you around town before."
"I like staying at home more. The surrounding area is great to map out. It's such a wide and vast place to explore."
"You're a cartographer? Well, if you ever stop by at Granny's, we should definitely have a chat. I have maps from some of the places I traveled too. I bet you enjoy the hell out of them."
"I’ll take you up on that, but what should I call you? You never brought up your name during this entire conversation."
"August. My name is August Booth," the man once formerly called the Stranger answers, sticking out his hand for Jefferson to shake.
"And I'm Jefferson," Jefferson says back, taking up August’s offer for that handshake. "Well August, I hope you can find Spot and Emma at this hour. I give you the best of luck."
"Thank you, Jefferson. And may I say you have a lovely house." August broke the handshake, and walked away towards his motorcycle. He turns back to face Jefferson.
"If you see Emma, tell her I’m not mad at her for losing Spot."
As Jefferson watch August drives off on his motorcycle, he quickly brushes his hands on his pants. He knew that the other man didn’t have dirt or anything, but Jefferson wanted to wipe the strange feeling the man had. He was quite glad August left when he did, or else Jefferson's 'curse persona' would have taken over and ask August inside to have that map chat right now. Regina may have adjusted the curse to make Jefferson remember, but she couldn't adjust the curse let him fully keep his true personality (something he asked her about twenty-eight years ago when he sweet-talked one of the waitresses at Granny's Diner for a cheaper meal).
Walking back upstairs, Jefferson ponders who August could be. Jefferson knew just by the handshake that August had magic in him. It was weak magic, but it magic all the same. August was from their world. August knew about the curse. He could tell August knew Emma was the Savior. It was just the matter of figuring out who August was.
Rattling off any possible identities in his head, Jefferson heard Emma snipping away at the table, cutting up more of the dark fabric he asked her too.
"Emma? Is it okay for me to check up on your progress?"
"Sure. Actually, I think it's best if you stay here from this point on. I think I need some pointers about how to sew a hat."