[one]

They're showing The Wizard of Oz at the old movie theater off Main Street as part of a monthly retro-movie night, and as soon as Belle hears about it, she lights up with excitement and asks Gold if he'd like to see the film.

He tells her he would love to go, even though he really, honestly would not - mostly because he doesn't really care for the cinema, especially when it's a ridiculous children's movie that celebrates the meddlesome behavior of a do-gooder like Dorothy Gale. Who, from what he can remember, was one of the most annoying young women he's ever had the misfortune of dealing with.

But despite all of this, he accepts Belle's invitation with a sincere smile, because the truth of it is, he'd go anywhere she asked.

The theater lobby is packed, what looks like half the town crammed into the tiny room. After the excitement of the past couple of weeks, what with the curse being broken and Emma and Mary Margaret disappearing back into their land, things are starting to get more or less back to normal. Which means that things like movie night are once again the most exciting game in town.

For her part, Belle seems thrilled; she's never actually been to the movies before, and she's practically bouncing on her toes for them to open the doors and let everyone in.

All around them, the good residents of Storybrooke are shooting disapproving glances at the two of them, shaking their heads and muttering about how it's such a pity Belle can't find herself a nice young man to spend time with.

Gold would be annoyed, but Belle seems unconcerned, holding his hand as they wait in line at the concession stand, so he ignores them, focusing instead on her.

"You must get butter on the popcorn," he tells her seriously.

Belle smiles, tucking a strand of shiny brown hair behind one ear. She's wearing a light blue dress with a white sweater draped over her shoulders, and, sometimes, he still can't believe that a creature as beautiful as she could possibly love a monster like him.

"I suppose next you'll tell me butter counts as one of those magical condiments," she says, bumping her shoulder against his and smiling at him in this way that makes his heart beat much too fast.

"Of course," he says with a grin.

Recently, he's been getting these odd pains on each side of his face; it took him almost a day to realize it's from smiling, ill-used muscles in his cheeks getting stretched and pulled from his time spent with Belle.

The concession attendant is much more polite than Granny, which is a relief, and they order way more than the two of them will possibly eat, mostly because Belle has tried very few of the prepackaged confections stacked behind the counter.

"Okay, so. What else do we need?" she asks. They've got their popcorn and a couple of iced teas, plus Red Vines, SnoCaps, and at least five other kinds of boxed candy.

"I think we're all set, my dear," he tells her, looking over their stash of snacks.

She loops her arm through his as they get into the line for the showing, and Gold leans a bit closer to her. If anyone tries to disrupt tonight, he decides, he will simply magic them into a snail and crush them.

So of course, just moments later, Henry shows up, wandering in by himself, a ticket stub clutched in his hand. Gold watches him carefully, but he appears to be alone, no over-protective Evil Queen anywhere in sight.

After a few seconds, Belle glances over and sees him watching Henry.

"Do you think he's here by himself?" she asks, her breath warm and sweet against Gold's cheek.

"Don't know," he says, shrugging and looking away.

Before Gold realizes what she's doing, Belle's calling Henry's name and gesturing for him to come over to them.

"Are you here alone?" she asks once Henry makes his way over to where they're standing in the line.

Henry gives Gold a curious look, but one without any fear. It seems these last few weeks have had an effect of the boy's bravery.

"Yeah," Henry shrugs, looking back towards Belle. "But that's okay. I do lots of stuff on my own now."

"Could your mother not come?" she asks. Her voice doesn't tremble at all when she mentions Regina, and Gold feels a surge of pride. His Belle has always been so brave.

Henry shakes his head. "I think it's because of the Wicked Witch," he confides in a low voice. "When I was little, my mom would always leave the room when Dorothy made her melt."

Belle smiles. "You know, I've never seen it before, but it sounds rather scary," she says confidentially.

Henry nods seriously. "It is."

"Well, it sounds as though you might know a bit about it."

"I do." Henry smiles at her, ducking his head a little shyly.

Gold can't really blame him; she's just so enchanting.

"Perhaps you'd like to join us," Belle says, studiously ignoring the annoyed look Gold is giving her. "Help us eat some of this candy and maybe warn me about the scary parts?"

"Yeah!" Henry says, smiling broadly. "I could definitely do that."

Henry gets in line next to them, quickly making their group of two into a group of three and reaching up to grab a handful of popcorn.

"What do you think of the butter?" Belle asks him seriously.

"It's amazing," Henry says, his mouth full of the thoroughly buttered popcorn.

Belle grins over at Gold, winking at him over Henry's head.

Even though this is just about the worst situation he could have imagined for tonight, Gold smiles back before he can stop himself, hardly even annoyed at how easily the evening has turned from a romantic date with Belle into a night babysitting Regina's obnoxious son.

They open the doors to the screening room, and they file in slowly, Henry keeping up a steady stream of chatter, talking to Belle about the movie, asking her about the library, telling her about school. Gold tries in vain to tune most of it out.

It's a full house, and the guy sitting in front of Henry must have been a giant in the other world, because he's easily almost seven feet tall. Henry keeps craning his neck to see the screen, and Belle nudges Gold with her elbow and signals for him to move over and switch seats with the boy.

Gold sighs, but he does it, mostly because Belle smiles at him and, apparently, he's given up all pretense of ever being able to deny her anything in this world.

In the end, Henry ends up sitting between Belle and Gold, eating the popcorn and the Red Vines and bouncing excitedly in his seat during all of the good parts.

Gold can hardly see past the behemoth in front of him, but it's not much of an issue, considering he spends most of the film watching Belle rather than the screen.

She's really into the movie, gasping at the flying monkeys and clapping along with the rest of the audience when Dorothy defeats the witch. Even in the darkness of the theater, Gold can't take his eyes off her.

All throughout the film, she keeps reaching over and tapping her fingers against Gold's hand, her skin warm and soft against his, and by the time the end credits start to roll, Gold realizes that he's been smiling so wide that his face has started to ache.

[two]

For their third attempt at a first date, Belle and Mr. Gold decide that they should perhaps try something more private than a hamburger at the busiest restaurant in town or an excursion to the cinema for a film that at least half of Storybrooke apparently must count amongst their favorites.

As such, Belle invites him over for dinner, as it's unlikely that anyone - including the Evil Queen or her adorably interfering son - will disturb them there.

Gold arrives at her place right on time, making his way slowly up the stairs to the small apartment over the library.

She greets him at the door with a smile, though she seems more than a bit flustered. Her hair's piled into a messy bun on the top of her head, there's a smear of what looks like it may be tomato sauce above her right eye, and she's got a stained dishtowel slung over one shoulder.

Despite all of this, she looks amazingly, stunningly beautiful.

He tells her as much as he hands her the bottle of wine he's brought, her fingers warm against his as she accepts the gift.

"Thank you," she says, smiling at him like she means it. She leans in and kisses him on the corner of the mouth, making Gold's heart flip in his chest.

"You are quite welcome, my dear."

"So," he says, following her inside and looking around the mess-strewn kitchen. There are two pots bubbling away on the stove, both sending up alarming amounts of smoke, and a pile of half-chopped vegetables next to the sink. "What are we having?"

"Spaghetti?" she says, as though she's not completely sure if this is true.

Between the lack of certainty in her tone and chaos in the kitchen, Gold is more than a little nervous about their chances of actually being able to eat anything that she may manage to produce in there, but he does appreciate the effort.

"Well, it smells delicious," he lies.

It actually smells rather horrendous, but he gives her the benefit of the doubt, deciding that perhaps it's just that the stove in this small apartment is merely a bit out of use. After all, he remembers that she became quite an adept cook back when they were in their land, though it did take her quite a bit of time to figure out quite what she was doing. He supposes it's possible that she's taken more easily to modern appliances than she did to the open flame and heavy kettle that she used back at the castle.

She pours him a glass of wine and directs him to the couch, shooing him out of the kitchen.

Gold sits down on the edge of the shabby cushion, his cane still clutched in one hand. He suspects he may need to get up in hurry at some point in the very near future.

The unpleasant burned smell from the kitchen is getting ever stronger, so after just a couple of minutes Gold limps over to the kitchen, where things are looking ever more chaotic.

"Is there anything I can do to help, my dear?" he asks, watching nervously as Belle leans over to taste the sauce, a lock of shiny brown hair brushing within centimeters of the burner's flame."

"No," she tells him, making a face that says less-than-promising things about the marinara. "I - I've got it under control."

"Are you sure?" he asks, stepping up beside her. "I have a spell that can conjure up a delicious lasagna."

"No," Belle shakes her head. She's smiling, but her voice is serious. "No magic tonight, okay? Let's not tempt fate."

"All right," he agrees easily, but he's trying not to think too much about some of her more disastrous attempts at cooking back at the Dark Castle. He once had to magically restore an entire larder full of food after she tried to make them a simple meal of broiled fish and potatoes. But he'd rather keep tonight as easy and pleasant as possible, so: "No magic it is."

She grins, relieved. Behind her, the pot of water is boiling over and the tomato sauce is bubbling messily, dripping tomato and basil onto the flame of the burner.

"Please," he says a little desperately. "Let me do something. I am at your service."

"Okay," she finally replies, looking around rather helplessly. "Do you think you could make the salad?"

"But of course," he tells her with a slight bow, unable to keep the relief out of his voice.

The kitchen is very small, and they work back-to-back, Gold chopping vegetables for the salad and Belle doing god-knows-what to the pasta and the sauce at the stove behind him.

Even if she won't let him use his magic to help if anything goes wrong, Gold feels better being in the same room with her while she works.

After all, if she does set the apartment on fire, he'd like to be sure that they both get out alive. Although, with his bad leg, it's more likely she'd need to carry him to safety than the other way around.

Luckily, things seem to be moving a bit more smoothly once he's in there. Gold manages to get the salad put together and the loaf of Italian bread on the table, and the smoking and spattering coming from the stove seem to be at a minimum.

Suddenly, Belle lets out a little gasp of alarm, and Gold whips around to see that a dishtowel has caught fire, the flames moving from the burner onto the cloth. Belle looks around, panicked.

Gold raises his hands, magic beginning to crackle from his fingertips before he realizes he's doing, and lowers his hands quickly, pulling Belle away from the flames and then ducking down to look in the cabinet under the sink. He finds a small fire extinguisher, which he aims at the stove, depressing the lever and sending a stream of white foam into the flames, the sauce, and the still-boiling pot of pasta water.

The fire goes out fairly easily, the half-burned dishtowel falling pathetically to the ground.

Their dinner looks thoroughly ruined, the stove is streaked with black marks, and there's a great deal of smoke, but otherwise, nothing looks much worse for the wear.

"Well," he says, giving Belle what he hopes is a comforting smile. "That wasn't too bad."

Belle opens her mouth to respond, but she's cut off by the loud, insistent bleating of the smoke alarm in the corner.

She dashes over to the infernal thing and starts waving at it frantically, trying to clear away some of the smoke.

It stops after only a few moments, the apartment blessedly silent for only a couple of seconds before Gold hears the sound of fire trucks in the distance, their sirens getting ever louder.

He sighs and shakes his head. "Storybrooke's finest," he mutters. "Arriving on the scene just as the fire's been put out."

Before too long, two burly firemen are at Belle's door, dressed for a raging inferno rather than a small kitchen fire, peering into the apartment and telling them they need to get downstairs.

"I can assure you, gentlemen, that everything is under control," Gold tells them. "Miss French and I simply had a small mishap, but there's nothing that opening up a few windows won't fix."

"Sorry, Mr. Gold," one of them says, but he doesn't sound sorry at all. Gold has noticed that the men have positioned themselves between him and Belle, as though they're protecting her from the monster. "Fire department policy."

Gold clinches his jaw, but Belle steps over to where he is, reaching down and holding his free hand. "We'll just get out of your way, then," she says, smiling.

As they make their way out of the apartment, Belle hands Gold the loaf of bread from the table, and she grabs the bottle of wine and two glasses as well.

Downstairs, a small crowd has gathered in the street, dozens of Storybrooke residents dressed in robes and pajamas gawking at the fire trucks.

Gold ignores them and follows Belle to one of the fire trucks. She sits down on the bumper, gesturing for him to do the same. He does, his hip pressed against hers, and she pours two glasses of wine, handing one to him.

"Sorry about all this," she says. Through the window upstairs, they can see the firemen moving around her apartment opening the windows to let the acrid smell of smoke drift down to the street below.

"Not to worry, my dear," he tells her. Even with the crowd that's watching them with what Gold could only describe as horrified fascination, he can't help but smile at Belle.

She smiles back at him, taking a sip of her wine and then reaching over to grab a piece of bread. Gold takes a slice as well, the two of them sitting quietly on the bumper together, ignoring the crowd and idly watching the movement of the firemen upstairs.

"Maybe we should try something simpler next time," Gold finally says.

"Yeah," Belle agrees, laughing. "Maybe we should."

"How does tea sound?" he asks. "Tomorrow morning?"

"That sounds perfect," she says, bumping her shoulder lightly against his.

"Tomorrow it is, then," he agrees, watching her sidelong as she takes another sip of wine. She's still got that smear of spaghetti sauce on her forehead and she smells a bit like charred tomatoes, but she is by far the most lovely thing Gold has ever seen.

[three]

When Mr. Gold arrives at Granny's the next morning, just as the clock over the library strikes seven, Belle is already there. So, by the looks of it, is every other single person in town.

The diner is packed, a crowd of people standing in the foyer and even a short line on the sidewalk. Belle is in the latter, wearing a lovely blue coat that brings out her eyes, and rubbing her hands against the cold.

"What's all this?" Gold asks, taking her bare hands in his gloved ones and rubbing them softly to warm them. In the twenty-eight years he's been in this cursed town, not once has Granny's ever been this packed.

"No idea," Belle shrugs helplessly. "It's just…busy."

"So it would seem."

"Granny said it would be about a half an hour before we could get a table," she tells him.

"And what time must you be at the library? The grand opening is today, is it not?"

"It is," she tells him apologetically. "And I need to be there by eight."

"Well, we could reschedule," he says, glancing at the large town clock. It's already five after seven. "Perhaps come back tomorrow when things are back to their usual state."

"No," she says quickly. She loops her arm through his and smiles. "Even if we just end up standing in the cold for an hour, I'd rather be here with you."

"And I with you, my dear," he says, allowing himself a small smile.

"Even if you may have to do without your tea altogether, or – heaven forbid – open the shop a bit late?" she teases, bumping her shoulder against his.

"Oh yes," he says, winking at her. "Even then."

Belle blushes, and his smile gets wider.

The line moves slowly, but after fifteen minutes, they've at least made it inside. The place really is packed, and they don't get a chance to sit for another ten minutes, when two spaces open up at the counter.

"Next party of two," Granny shouts, gesturing to the two empty seats.

Gold hesitates, and the people behind in line begin to jostle them with impatience. It's just that he was hoping for something a bit more intimate when he suggested tea to her last night.

"You coming or not?" Granny says, hands on her hips.

"Yes," he sighs, annoyed. "We're coming."

He leads Belle to the seats, his hand pressed lightly on the small of her back. He can feel eyes on the two of them as they move across the diner, but he's used to the stares at this point, and they don't seem to bother Belle at all.

At the counter, they squeeze into the two empty seats; Gold ends up next to one of those insufferable dwarves, the one who can't even remember who he is despite his incessant sneezing, and Belle sits next to Ashley, who looks frazzled with an infant strapped to her chest.

The crowded diner is quite loud, and sitting side by side like this is awkward, the two of them having to keep turning their heads in order to talk to each other. After only a few minutes, Gold's neck begins to ache, and when Ruby comes over with their food, he turns away from Belle with a reluctant twinge of relief.

That relief begins to fade as Ruby leans on the counter between him and Belle, chatting with Belle and Ashley, while Gold sits silently beside them, no interest in listening to a report on the sleeping habits of young Alexandra or engaging in idle town gossip.

So Gold just sips his tea and tries not to be annoyed by the turn their date has taken. He doesn't begrudge Belle these friendships, of course, but the pharmacist keeps sneezing too close to Gold's tea for comfort and what is turning out to be yet another disrupted first date is coming swiftly to a close.

Beside him, Belle is caught up in the conversation with Ruby and the Boyd girl. The three of them are cooing at the baby and giggling, Belle reaching over to tickle the baby, smiling widely at the child, while Gold merely watches silently.

The diner feels alive and buzzing around him, full of townsfolk chattering and socializing with each other. He's the most ancient being in this place, he knows, which is usually a cause for pride and reassurance. But right now, with Belle laughing brightly at whatever it is the Lucas girl is saying and running one finger gently down the child's cheek, he just feels very, very old.

He finishes his tea and his toast, and then grabs his cane, getting to his feet abruptly and pulling a twenty from his billfold.

"Where are you going?" Belle asks as he places the money on the counter. She's still got half a cup of tea and almost her entire plate of pancakes in front of her.

"I must open the shop," he tells her, already moving towards the door.

"Rumpel," she says, but he waves her off, the nickname irritating to him right now, with half of Storybrooke watching them and the dwarf smirking at him between sneezes.

"Never mind, dearie," he says, his voice low and sharp.

Belle looks at him, confused. Beside her, both Ruby and Ashley are glaring at him.

"Rumpelstiltskin?" Belle says, sounding hurt. "Are you okay?"

"Of course," he tells her, pulling on his gloves and looking at a spot just over her left shoulder. "Of course I am."

Belle's eyes are wide and bright with hurt and confusion, and she looks as though she wants to say something else to him.

But Gold turns away from her, moving through the crowded room to the door. As he makes his way outside, he doesn't look back, just heads down the sidewalk towards his shop, alone in the cold, harsh morning light.

[four]

By the time Mr. Gold closes his shop for the night, the air smells like snow, and it's gotten colder outside, the chill turning the dull ache in his leg into a painful throb.

It's been a long day, just as everyday since he arrived in this cursed town almost three decades ago has been, and he wants to simply go home and get out of the cold. But the lights are still on at the library, a sign that Belle has not left for the night, so Gold tightens his hold on his cane and makes his way slowly across the street, intent on seeing whether or not Belle would be willing to give him yet another chance, let him buy her dinner and apologize for this morning.

When he gets inside, the library appears to be empty, no patrons perusing the shelves and no one behind the circulation desk. The room smells of old books and new paint, and after a moment, Belle appears from between the stacks, pushing an empty book cart in front of her.

"Hi," she says, sounding surprised to see him.

"Hey." Gold can't help but smile when he sees her, the sight of her making him feel suddenly lighter.

She gives him a crooked smile as she makes her way behind the desk. There's an open takeout container from Granny's on the counter, empty except for a bit of sandwich crust and a few lone French fries.

"Are you here to look around?" she asks, glancing at the empty library behind her. "I could give you a tour?"

"I was actually coming to see if you'd like to join me for dinner," he says, nodding at the Styrofoam box. "But I fear that I may be too late."

"Ruby brought it over," she tells him apologetically, sounding as though her friend bringing her a meal is something he would mind, and he suddenly feels every bit the bastard everyone thinks he is.

"Did she now?" he says easily. "Well, it seems if I'm not careful, I may lose your affections to the Lucas girl."

Belle laughs at that, smiling warmly. "Ruby is quite the catch," she teases.

He gasps theatrically, holding a hand to his heart, his old Rumpelstiltskin-dramatics feeling equal parts awkward and familiar to him. The truth of it is, he feels a bit at a loss. These moments of quiet between them are filled with a kind of tension that Gold can't quite name, making him feel powerless in a way that he's not sure how to deal with.

"I, uh, I could go for some dessert," she says, sounding hopeful. "Something sweet?"

Gold smiles. "I know a wonderful little ice cream shop," he tells her.

"You know, I've never actually had ice cream," Belle says, coming around the desk, coat in hand.

"That is a tragedy," he says with mock-seriousness, reaching over to help her into the jacket. Her arm brushes against his hand, her skin warm and soft against his. "But one we shall remedy immediately."

The snow starts when they're only a couple of blocks away. It drifts down in little flurries, the flakes sticking to his overcoat and shimmering gently in Belle's hair. She presses against him as the air gets colder, and he relishes the warmth of her.

When they get there, the ice cream parlor is closed, the inside dark and empty. They stand on the sidewalk, both of them peering into the darkened shop.

"The fates are conspiring against us, aren't they?" Belle says. She sounds exasperated, but one corner of her mouth is quirked up in a half-smile.

"It would certainly appear that way," he tells her, unable to keep the irritation out of his voice.

They stand there for a few seconds, the snow falling lightly around them, and Gold watches their reflections in the darkened window. Belle is a vision of loveliness, her eyes bright and her cheeks pink, even in the dull reflection of the glass. Next to her, he looks dark and ancient, with his black suit and his cane. After a moment, she turns to him, but Gold keeps his eyes on the window.

"So," she says, taking a deep breath. "Are you okay?"

"Of course," he says, lightly. "It's only ice cream."

"That's not what I meant," she says, rolling her eyes. "I meant this morning. At Granny's?"

"Ah." He tightens his hand on his cane and looks down at the sidewalk; some of the snow has already begun to melt, forming small puddles on the sidewalk.

"Rumpel," she says, taking his hand and squeezing it gently. "Why did you run off?"

He looks up at her, bracing himself to tell her the truth. He wonders if it will always be this difficult, being honest with her.

"I'm a very old monster, Belle," he finally says, holding up a hand to stop the protest that he knows is coming. She bites her lip and waits for him to finish. "And you are so very young."

"I'm not as young as I look, you know," she teases, but there's an edge to her voice, one that speaks to twenty-eights years locked up in the dark.

"Belle - " he starts, but she cuts him off.

"I love you, Rumpelstiltskin," she says, her tone frustrated and brooking no argument. "No matter how much you may try to convince yourself otherwise."

He sighs, and she tugs on his hand a little, pulling him away from the darkened shop and back towards the library.

"You don't really believe the fates are working against us, do you?" she asks after a couple of minutes, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

"Of course not," he says. "And yet…" He glances back at the closed shop and then up at the sky, scowling at the falling snow.

Belle laughs and slides her hand up to loop her arm through his. "Well, I think it's beautiful," she says, her cheeks rosy from the cold.

He brushes some of the snow off his coat with annoyance. "That's because you have yet to fully experience the pleasure of winter in Maine," he says.

She leans into him a little, bumping her shoulder gently against his. The snow's started falling harder, coating everything in a thin layer of white, and Belle's looking around her in delight.

"I don't understand how you can't love this," she says. "It makes everything looks so…" she bites her lip and looks around her, blue eyes bright even in the darkness. "Magical."

"Magical," he scoffs. "Trust me, my dear, this," he nods towards the small piles of ice clumping on the sidewalk, already turning slushy and grey, "is certainly not that."

Belle rolls her eyes. "There's more types of magic in this world than just yours, Rumpelstiltskin," she tells him. She's taken off one of her gloves and is holding out her hand to catch the snow, the flakes melting into nothing when they touch her fingertips.

"Yes," he says, watching her as she smiles up at the dark sky. There are snowflakes glittering in her eyelashes and she looks like glowing, like she's lit from within. "I suspect there must be."

[five]

Mary Margaret and Emma return, followed swiftly and unexpectedly by Cora and Hook, and Gold's forced to put his attempts to court Belle on hold while he and Regina work to gain control of the situation.

Things are still a bit unfinished, but Rumpelstiltskin has never been one to be distracted from what he wants, so he arranges another date with Belle, determined that, this time, they will finally get what they both want.

However, if there's anything he knows, it's the value of discretion around one's enemies, so their date is set for midday, in broad daylight, in the back of his shop. It may not be the most romantic of plans, but he has a wonderful picnic of takeout from Granny's packed and a pot of Belle's favorite tea brewing in the kettle. And he knows both Cora and Hook well enough to know that they won't attack him in his own shop, where he has the advantage.

Gold's in the back of the shop, making sure everything is in order, when the bell over the door rings, and he can't stop himself from smiling as he makes his way through the curtain into the main room.

"You're late, my dear," he says, but when he looks up, it's not Belle there, but Mary Margaret, looking breathless, her precocious grandson trailing behind her.

"We need your help," Mary Margaret says by way of greeting.

Gold chuckles softly and leans easily on his cane, looking past them to the sidewalk outside as he awaits Belle's arrival. "And why is that, dearie?"

Mary Margaret doesn't reply, just looks down at Henry, and for the first time, Gold notices the strong aura of fear that envelops both her and the boy.

"Why is that?" he repeats, tightening his hand hard enough on the can that the metal bites into his skin.

She looks back at him, making eye contact. "Rumpelstiltskin," she says, and her voice is so gentle and kind that he gets a sick feeling in his stomach.

"Tell me," he demands, low and dangerous. Henry flinches, taking a step away from him.

Mary Margaret swallows and looks away from him, over towards the door.

"Belle," she finally says, and the sick feeling turns to panic. "It's Belle."

They take him to the police station, where Charming and Emma and Regina are huddled around one of the desks, the three of them looking at something in one of the open holding cells. It only takes Gold a couple of seconds to realize that it's Belle, lying on the little cot bolted to the wall.

When Gold get close enough to see her, cold and still and pale, it's like he can't breathe, like his heart stops dead in his chest.

"And the spell?" he asks, because it must be a curse of some kind, she wouldn't be like this otherwise.

"We don't know." Regina sounds legitimately regretful, and he's so far gone that he actually believes she might be.

"It's a curse," Henry supplies, unhelpful as always.

"Yes," Gold sneers, tearing his eyes away from Belle to glare at the boy. "Thank you."

"We think it might be a sleeping curse," Charming adds, one hand pressed reassuringly to Henry's shoulder.

"But you can't be sure?" Gold asks sharply.

"No," Mary Margaret finally says. "No, we just found her like this."

"Found her?" he repeats, incredulous.

"Yeah," Henry says, all wide-eyed innocence. "Mary Margaret took me to the library after school and we just…" He shrugs and looks over at Belle. "Found her."

"Cora," Gold murmurs, and Regina nods.

Lying there, Belle looks dead, looks the way she has in the nightmares he's been carrying around with him for three decades, dreams of her body lifeless and cold at the bottom of a tower.

He tightens his grip on his cane and then swings it suddenly at the desk next to him, smashing a lamp and knocking an empty mug to the floor. It shatters, everyone jumping back in surprise.

"Gold!" Emma shouts, reaching out and grabbing his arm. Her grip is firm, but gentle and Gold feels a surge of hatred for her particular brand of compassion.

"It's a curse," Regina sneers, patronizing as always. "It doesn't really matter what kind, does it? The cure is always the same."

"That's why we need you," Charming says. He's looking at Gold with something like kindness and understanding. "We thought you might be able to wake her."

Gold pull his arms away from Emma and scrubs a hand across his face. "Yes," he says, taking a shaky breath. "Yes, I believe can."

He steps back into the cell, leaning his cane against the cinderblock wall of the cell so that he can kneel down next to Belle. But before he gets the chance, Regina sidles up to him, standing so that she can talk to him without the others overhearing her.

"Wait," she whispers urgently, her voice warm and intimate in his ear. Gold hesitates and Regina rushes on. "If you do this, Cora will know everything. She will know your weakness, and she will take you down."

"So what do you suggest?" he hisses. "Just leave her like this?"

"Until we get rid of Cora and Hook, it might be best."

This close, Regina is all beautiful darkness—dark eyes, dark hair, dark lips—and it's so easy to see how she's managed everything that she has in this land and theirs. Even her voice is so beautifully seductive that Gold almost wants to believe her.

"And how is that?"

"Cora will use this against you."

"She's already using it against me, dearie."

Regina smirks and glances down at Belle. "And can you imagine what she'll do once she confirms it's true love?"

Gold can, actually, which is the one and only reason he's listening to anything Regina is saying right now. He taught Cora everything she knows—every trick, every spell, every horrible, monstrous curse—and he knows exactly what she's capable of, exactly how much danger he might be putting Belle in if he wakes her.

He looks at Belle. She seems so at peace, so calm, that for one horrible moment he considers it, considers doing exactly what Regina asks. It would be easier, he knows, than risking her, risking them while Cora and Hook are running around Storybrooke, hell bent on revenge.

"What was it like?" he says, quietly, turning to Mary Margaret. "The sleeping curse? When you were under it…what was it like?"

"It was horrible," she says immediately. Her brow is knitted and she's got a far away look in her eyes, like she can still see it, right there in front of her. "It was like being trapped in a dark, empty room, alone and cold. And no matter how loud I screamed, no matter how much I begged and pleaded and cried, I was always there. Alone and trapped in that horrible darkness."

He reaches out and brushes his fingers against her cheek, trailing his fingertips down her cold, pale skin. Belle has been trapped for far too long, by far too many people, he knows.

"I can handle Cora," he says, to himself as much as Regina.

Regina starts to say something else, but he ignores her, bracing himself against the cot to ease himself down. His bad leg aches, but he ignores it, leaning down to her, close enough so that their noses touch. She's so cold beneath him, horrifyingly still.

Her lips are cold and waxy when he touches them with his own, and it feels wrong, that he should be doing something so intimate in front of so many people. Gold can feel everyone watching him, watching them, waiting for true love to save the day, but…nothing happens.

She remains cold and unresponsive, so Gold closes his eyes, working hard to block out everything except Belle, focusing on the softness of her skin, the slightly floral scent of her.

He kisses her again, reaching up to lay one palm gently against her cheek, and it's like he's suddenly hit with a wave of brightness, a surge warmth and happiness so intense he can't breathe.

Belle gasps, her lips suddenly warm and alive beneath his, and Gold smiles as he pulls back just enough to look at her.

"Hi," she says, sounding confused, but happy to see him.

"Hey," he says. His knee is throbbing and the entire Charming family is gawking at him, but he can't seem to stop smiling.

"Did I miss our date?" she asks, looking at the crowd gathered around her. Her cheeks are rosy again, and her eyes are very, very blue.

He huffs out a laugh.

"No, love," he says, he's got a hand holding hers and he reaches up to brush a stray lock of hair off her forehead. She's warm and alive and he doesn't think he'll ever be able to stop touching her. "No, not at all."

[epilogue]

They finally manage to get it together a week after Gold wakes Belle up with true love's kiss.

Belle's theory is that things keep going wrong because that very first date—hamburgers at Granny's—was interrupted. What they need, she tells him, is to go back to the start.

So that's exactly what they do.

They meet at Granny's one night just before closing, late enough so that the diner will be empty and it's less likely that they will suffer any unfortunate interruptions from meddling townsfolk.

Since Hook and Cora have arrived in town, people have softened a bit towards Gold, choosing the lesser of the two evils, he knows, but it is rather refreshing to remain feared, but not quite so hated. Especially since now going out with Belle doesn't seem to invite quite as much ire from the town as it has in the past.

The company is spectacular, the hamburgers are delicious, and by the time the check comes, he's more in love with Belle than he ever could have thought possible.

He walks her home, their hands clasped as they make their way down the dark street. He hates that he has to leave her alone like this at the end of the night, but he's cast a protection spell over the library, and he knows that she's as safe as she can be.

Belle takes out her keys when they arrive at the library, and he waits patiently as she unlocks the heavy double doors.

"So you'll be okay," he says, not sure if he's reassuring Belle or himself.

"I'll be fine, Rumpel," she says, sounding less exasperated than he expected. He may have been acting a bit concerned over the past week – insanely over-protective is how she put it – but that's only because she doesn't know Cora and Hook as he does.

"Thank you for dinner," she tells him, moving close enough to him that he can feel her breath warm against the shell of his ear.

"You're quite welcome."

"So we finally managed it," she says. "A date. We had dinner and conversation and now you've walked me home."

"Almost, my dear," he says.

"Oh, is there more?" she teases, smiling at him.

"Aye, just a bit."

Belle looks up at him expectantly, and he leans to kiss her, closing his eyes and pressing his lips against hers.

She kisses him back, smiling against his mouth. That feeling hits him again—a softer version of the one from the police station, a gentle surge of brightness and warmth and light that surrounds them both—and Gold holds Belle close to him, determined to make sure he holds up their deal this time, to hold on to her forever and to never let her go.

end