Matter cannot be created or destroyed. It was a law of this new world that they called science, but it had been just as true in the land they had come from. You couldn't simply make someone disappear. You could turn them into a snail or into a rose. You could crush the snail or throw away the wilted rose. But that didn't make them disappear. They would simply turn into dust that would feed other things. You could move things. Transmute them. But never destroy them.

The magic that Mr. Gold had brought to Storybrooke was gone. Or at least it had been used up. In the old world magic was a self-renewing resource. It grew in the mines and teemed in the air. In this world it had been limited to what had initially come through the well. Some had gone towards fighting Regina, her body now decomposing underneath the apple tree she had cared for as a child. In the end it was her love for Henry that had allowed her to sacrifice herself to save the rest of the town from the monster she had become. The remaining magic had gone towards repairing the damage to buildings and throwing an epic celebratory party in the middle of Main Street.

Belle and Gold had skipped the party. Instead they went to Friar Tuck and were married in a ceremony with only one guest, Belle's father. When it came time to sign the marriage license they realized they needed a second witness and so Gold had rounded up Dreamy, who had been serenading one of the nuns in the church courtyard. They had to repeat their vows, which Gold had grumbled about until Belle pointed out it meant they got another first kiss as husband and wife.

Happily ever after didn't necessarily mean happy all the time. Belle hated the pawn shop. "You spend too much time there," she pouted, "and I don't understand why you have to make such harsh deals. We have more than enough money to share. You should just give it to people in need."

He'd looked horrified at that suggestion. "Love, have you been reading any little red books lately?"

"You know I never look at the covers, why?" But he'd only chuckled to himself in response.

Gold had problems with Belle too. She was always doing favors for everyone else. He would come home for lunch to an empty house and spend the rest of the day sulking about it. It was selfish, he knew, but damnit…she was his wife! Didn't that mean that she should be at his beck and call? That all of her beatific smiles and graces should be reserved for him and not spread out for every idiot in town? She volunteered to work as the school librarian three days a week, read to sick people in the hospital twice a week, and was part of a sewing circle that made a handmade quilt for every baby born in town. And with the return of happily ever after's that turned into quite an undertaking.

"I like helping out," she explained to him, sliding onto his lap and kissing away his frown. "I can't just stay home all day waiting for you"

"And why not?"

"Because," she said, kissing him again, "You love me. Because you want me to be happy. I wouldn't be happy just sitting home all day."

"It was good enough for you before."

She rolled her eyes. "I was busy all day. The Dark Castle has dozens of rooms that all needed to be cleaned by hand. This place is much smaller, and you have that little magic man who sweeps up all the dirt."

"The roomba?"

"And that enchanted cupboard that cleans the plates."

"The dishwasher?"

"It really makes housework much less time consuming. So, I can help out other with that extra time. Just now. Just until I have something else to take up my days."

He would argue more, but she wasn't thinking of him anymore. No, she was thinking of a baby. That's what she really wanted to be doing with her afternoons, but that one thing had eluded them so far. It wasn't from a lack of trying. They had decades of lost time to make up for and were well on their way. Belle had consulted with both Doc and Dr. Whale and both said to give it time. Dr. Whale had said that they didn't recommend testing for fertility problems until two years of trying, and they weren't even at one yet.

Gold wasn't angry with her. Not truly. But it was so rare he was able to play the part of the wronged husband that he wasn't able to give it up yet. "I came home for afternoon tea and you weren't here."

"You should have called first."

"I wanted to surprise you," he said, tracing his finger along her jaw. "And so I come all the way home only to find an empty house. It ruined my day."

She snuggled closer, deciding to play his game. "My poor husband. Was it that terrible to have tea all by yourself?"

"It was considering that I wasn't really planning on having tea at all during our tea time." He arched his eyebrows comically before swooping onto her mouth for a deep kiss. His hand reached into Belle's hair, but swiftly pulled away and rested gently on her hips. They just sat there, not pulling or pushing. Gold was always extremely gentle in their lovemaking, to the point that Belle sometimes had to take control in order to move things along.

"I love when you grab my hair," she groaned into his ear and then began flicking his earlobe against her tongue. She moved her mouth lower, to his neck, where she nipped with no gentleness. His hand clenched her hips for a moment but then relaxed. She pulled back to look at him as he watched her. Love was clear in his expression but also something more. Fear?

"Rumple…"

"Call me Gold," he said, his mouth dry. "Call me Husband, or Love, or anything else. I hate that name. It is synonymous with coward in three kingdoms and bastard in the rest."

"Are you sure that you're feeling okay? Because you're acting…"

Before she could finish her question his hands were in her hair again, grabbing near her scalp and pulling her head back so that he had access to her throat. His teeth nipped and the bit, the pain overwhelming the pleasure at first. But only at first, because then his tongue came, and smoothed over the pain. Slowly he licked down to her chest and danced along the tops of her pert breasts that came out of the sundress she was wearing. His hands pushed down the straps, a fingernail scraping the skin of her shoulders. With his hands out of her hair she could look down now and see his face. She needed to see his face.

She couldn't help but move away when she saw him- gold and green flesh and scales. It wasn't possible. The curse was broken. She fell off his lap and onto the floor with a thud. When she looked again she realized it was some type of hallucination. Her husband was there, as human as ever, and struggling not to laugh at her predicament.

"If you so much as let out a single chuckle Rumple…" she shook her head, "Sorry. I forgot."

"Forgot what," he said as he gathered his cane and offered her his free hand up.

"That you didn't want me to call you that."

"Not call me by my name? Did you hit your head in that tumble?"

"No," she said, rubbing her backside, "Although you've been known to accuse me of having my head where I landed."

His hand joined hers, and she felt the pain replaced by heat. 26 steps. That's all they had to go through until they were together again. This time in the safety of their mattress and well carpeted floors.

Yes. The Gold's were happy. There was only one small problem; the fact that matter cannot be destroyed. Energy cannot be destroyed. And something as powerful as The Dark One certainly could not be destroyed. He could only be transmuted into another form.