A/N: Thanks to all who reviewed and favourited my other honeymoon fics. To those I could't reply to directly, thank you for your comments and prompts.

Twyla Mercedes prompt: 'Hope they have rope (or at least one of Gold's silk ties) at the cabin and stopped and picked up some ice cream.'

AquaJasmine23 prompt: 'What if Hook overheard Snow & Charming telling, say, Ruby & photoshopped some images to terrify Moe French out of his skin?'

Not sure that Hook knows what Photoshop is, but I can work with him using the imagery to freak out Moe, for sure!

David and Mary Margaret made their way back into Storybrooke in shocked silence, very pointedly not looking at one another. They entered the loft to find Emma cradling Neal in her arms and Henry looking at the pizza menu.

"Oh, hey, you guys are just in time," said Emma, swinging her brother up onto her shoulder and making him gurgle. "What do you want on your pizza?"

"A bottle of forgetting potion," mumbled Mary Margaret, marching into the kitchen and putting on the kettle for some camomile tea. She really wanted something stronger, but figured as she was nursing, a herbal remedy would have to do. David, however, had no such issues, and hurriedly reached for the whisky. Emma's eyebrows drew down as she watched her parents.

"What happened?" she asked shrewdly. "Are you guys okay?"

"We're fine," said David soothingly. "Just – never mind."

"Uh-uh, don't do that," said Emma, looking alarmed. "What is it? Are we in danger? What's going on?"

Mary Margaret sighed. "No one's in any danger," she said calmly. "But I may need to bleach my eyeballs. And get my ears syringed."

Emma opened her mouth to ask another question, then frowned thoughtfully and turned to her son.

"Henry, do you think you could run around to Granny's and get us an apple pie for dessert?" she asked, digging in her pocket for some money.

"So you can talk about whatever it is you don't want to talk about in front of me?" he asked knowingly, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "You know, enough money for an ice-cream sundae would ensure I was out of the apartment for even longer."

Emma gave him a level look, but put another five-dollar bill in his hand.

"I'll be back later," he said, practically running for the door. Emma frowned after him as she rocked Neal.

"You know, every so often I'm reminded that he's Gold's grandson," she remarked, and her frown deepened as Mary Margaret suppressed a shudder. "What?" she demanded. "What the hell is up with you guys?"

"We went for a walk," began David, taking a swig of his drink. "Ended up by Gold's cabin."

Emma's face fell. "Don't tell me the newlyweds were out there! You didn't walk in on them, surely?"

"Not only did we walk in on them," said Mary Margaret uncomfortably. "We couldn't walk out again."

"Huh?" Emma looked puzzled, and David sighed.

"Gold had cast some sort of spell," he explained. "Whoever entered the cabin couldn't leave. We managed to turn our backs, eventually, but until then…" He spread his hands, looking embarrassed, and Emma snorted with laughter.

"So you got to see Gold doing his thing? That's hilarious!"

David pulled a face. "Yeah, it's hilarious when it doesn't happen to you."

"Actually, we got to see Rumplestiltskin doing his thing," added Mary Margaret, putting a camomile teabag in her cup as she flicked off the kettle. She blushed as she spoke. "The spell he'd cast – he'd recreated the great hall of the Dark Castle – and himself, as he was then."

Emma almost choked, eyes starting from her head. "You have to be kidding me! I saw what he looked like back then! You're seriously telling me Belle was into that?"

"By the sound of it," said David uncomfortably. "She was definitely into it. Twice, at least."

Mary Margaret shuddered, pouring hot water into her cup. "Hence the need for camomile tea," she explained. Emma chuckled.

"So, your parents walk in on the Dark One giving his big finish, and they're now traumatised," Hook summed up later that evening, as he and Emma sat at the bar in Granny's diner. He ordered them another couple of drinks, grinning hugely as Emma shivered, flicking her blonde hair out of her face as she swallowed the last of her rum.

"That's about it," she nodded, pushing the empty glass towards Ruby and picking up its replacement. "I'm just grateful I wasn't with them. It should teach them not to break into people's cabins, though. Like, for the rest of eternity. David had to have three huge whiskies before he even started to mellow out. Apparently they're both screamers."

"Well, good luck to the old crocodile," Hook declared. "It appears there really is someone for everyone." He clinked his glass against hers, and Emma pulled a face at him, taking a drink.

"Not sure I'll be able to look him in the face next time I see him," she admitted. "Mary Margaret painted a pretty graphic picture for me after David went to get the pizzas." She winced. "God, why can't I shut up? I'm giving myself disturbing visions here!" She shuddered again, and Hook looked interested.

"Go on, Swan, you can tell me," he said, with a grin, winking at her.

Belle stretched luxuriously, her body feeling warm and loose. They had spent the day in bed, sleeping for a few hours here and there, and she was pleasantly rested and delightfully snug. The spell Rumple had cast was still holding, the great hall substituted for his bedroom in the Dark Castle, which was smaller than the hall, and therefore easier for him to maintain. She felt him stir against her, disturbed by her movements, and smiled to herself.

"I'm hungry," she said sleepily. "Can we eat something?"

"What time is it?" he asked, nuzzling close, and she shrugged.

"No idea. Did our basket of food come with us, or will you have to magic a pie from Granny's?"

He snorted then, sitting up. "I think we can do better than that," he said wryly, and waved a hand, making the basket of provisions they had brought appear on the red silk coverlet of the bed. Belle sat up beside him, looking eagerly into the basket.

"Well, I think we ought to have the champagne," she said, and he grinned, pulling the magically-chilled bottle from the basket, along with two crystal flutes. Belle picked out a dish of prepared lobster and opened it up, making a noise of enjoyment as she put a large piece of the plump flesh into her mouth. They ate for a while, the lobster followed by tiny mushroom tarts that she had made, which in turn was followed by strawberries.

"You should dip them in the champagne," he suggested, and Belle giggled, the first glass having already gone to her head. She put a large berry in her glass, pulling it out and sucking the bubbles from it before biting into the sweet red flesh. Juice ran down her chin, and she swept at it with her small pink tongue, mopping up the rest with her finger and slipping it into her mouth. He watched her hungrily, his eyes darkening, the tiny golden scales on his arms and chest gleaming in the candlelight.

Wanting to tease him, Belle dipped the strawberry in once more, catching and holding his eyes with hers as she opened her mouth and sucked the red fruit into it with a deep sound of contentment. He lunged at her, his mouth meeting hers, tongue swirling around it to pull some of the champagne and strawberry into his own mouth. She kissed him fiercely, and he pulled her closer, devouring her, making her moan and press herself against him. Rumple drew back, the pair of them breathing hard, his forehead pressed to hers.

"What do you say to playing a little game, dearie?" he purred, and she shivered with delight at his playful, yet dangerous tone.

"What sort of game?" she asked breathlessly, and he grinned, his eyes alight with mischief.

"It's called 'do you trust me?'" he said helpfully, and she gave him a shrewd look.

"You know I trust you," she said, amused, and he clapped his hands together.

"Oh, good! Then perhaps you'll win!"

"And how exactly will I know if I've won?" she demanded, smiling at his enthusiasm. Her stomach lurched as his smile turned wicked.

"Oh, believe me, my sweet, you'll know," he breathed. Belle sighed, putting the strawberries back in the basket.

"Very well," she said, with mock disinterest. "Tell me how to play."

His grin widened, his eyebrows twitching at her, and he handed her the glass of champagne.

"First, we each have some more of this," he said, and they both drank. Belle sneezed as the bubbles went up her nose.

"You're only giving me this because you know it makes me incredibly silly," she admonished.

"I would have gone with 'rampant', dearest, but be coy if you wish," he remarked, earning himself a slap on the arm. She looked at him reprovingly as he took their glasses and put them on the table at the side of the bed. When he turned back, he was holding a long length of gold silk in his hands.

"Lie back, sweetheart," he said gently, and Belle obediently scooted down the bed, lying back against the thick pillows. "Arms above your head," he added, and her eyes narrowed, but she obeyed. He knelt above her, his scent filling her head, and she raised up to kiss his nipple, making him chuckle. He gently looped the silk around her wrists, and then around the carved bedhead.

"What are you up to?" she asked suspiciously, and he silenced her with a kiss.

"Do you trust me?" he asked quietly, and she nodded at once. Her heart was thumping with excitement and a little trepidation, and she watched the candlelight play over his naked form, reflecting in the deep amber of his eyes as he gazed at her. He twirled his fingers in an elaborate gesture, and she saw that he was holding the dark grey silk tie he had worn to the cabin. He bent to kiss her, his lips gently pulling at hers, his tongue slipping into her mouth and gently caressing her from within. Belle let out a soft moan, and felt him smile, the softness of the silk falling across her closed eyes. She lifted her head obediently, his nimble fingers tying the silk around the back of her head, cutting off the light. Her breath caught, her other senses straining as she tried to work out what he was doing.

"Relax, my darling," he said soothingly, and she felt him move from where he was straddling her, move towards the side of the bed, where the basket of food was. He had packed the thing himself, and she hadn't thought to look in it. Her ears wanted to twitch with frustration. She heard him pull something out, and the sound of thick plastic tearing; something was being opened, she presumed. There was a moment of silence, as he moved back, parting her raised knees this time and slipping in between them. Belle's breath started to quicken as she felt him lean over her.

"Open wide, my sweet," he breathed, and she parted her lips, trembling a little. She squeaked in surprise as she felt something cold drip into her mouth, and made a sound of pleasure as her lips closed around a blob of ice cream: dulce de leche, her favourite. She swallowed, licking the sweet caramel from her lips, hearing Rumple breathing above her, hard and heavy. Another spoonful followed the first, and Belle made appreciative noises. Ice cream dripped onto her lips, running over her chin, and she gasped as his tongue was on her, swirling over her skin, pushing into her mouth to share the taste. A spoon of ice cream followed almost before he had pulled his lips from hers, and he kissed her again, both of them tasting and murmuring as their tongues tangled in the frozen sweetness.

He pulled back, and she sensed he was kneeling up, his presence retreating a little. She could still see nothing but a slight tinge of light around the grey silk, and her ears tried to pick up on his movements, the bed moving gently as he shifted down it. A blob of cold ice cream falling onto her left nipple made Belle cry out in surprise, and his hot, wet mouth followed it, sucking the sweet bud inside and making heat pool in her groin.

"That's…" she gasped. "Oh, Rumple, that's…"

She sensed he was grinning, and he trailed ice cream across her chest to her other nipple, following the line with his tongue, lapping at her smooth flesh. He pinched the left nipple between thumb and forefinger as he suckled her, and Belle moaned, throwing her head back and arching into him. She felt ice cream drip onto her, cold drops falling at intervals, down over her breast, over her belly, on down. Belle bit her lip as she realised his destination, and cried out as he was suddenly there, his mouth full of ice cream, the contrast between the cold dessert and his hot tongue almost unbearable. He was making small noises of enjoyment as he licked her, and she knew he would be able to taste himself in her, as well as her own fluids. She pushed her hips upwards, trying to get closer to him, groaning as his tongue swirled around her folds, as he sucked her clit into his mouth, grown cold with the ice cream. She was getting close, her breathing quickening, almost panting, and she hissed in frustration as he pulled back.

"Rumple, so help me!" she snapped, and felt him grin against her as he kissed her inner thigh, so near to where she wanted him. It felt as though her whole body was thrumming in anticipation, an itch under her skin that she couldn't get rid of without him.

"Do you trust me?" he said throatily, his voice buzzing against her skin and making her writhe.

"Yes, you bastard!" she snapped. "Bloody well get on with it!"

He chuckled then, and she considered shoving him off the bed with her foot. Briefly.

"I am about to demonstrate one of the many uses of magic," he said, sounding smug. "An experiment, dearest. You must tell me if you don't like it."

She bit her lip in consternation at that, but then felt his gentle fingers slide up between her legs, parting the wet folds. She shrieked as they began to vibrate, and threw her head back with a moan of pleasure, her chest heaving as he swirled them over her tender flesh.

"Oh my God!" she blurted, and heard him snort.

"Hardly, dearie, but I'm happy to accept any form of worship you may choose to adopt."

Her brain was too frazzled to come up with a retort to that, her entire body shaking as she neared her peak.

"Rumple!" she whimpered, and he chuckled again.

"D'you know, I could do this to my tongue, too?" he said conversationally. "What say you, sweetheart?"

She could only moan in response, and felt his hair brush her thighs as he bent his head to her, the first touch of his vibrating tongue making her scream and rise up off the bed as she came hard, her heels drumming on the coverlet, her hips bucking so that she almost threw him off. White light burst through her vision, leaving shadows of inky black pouring in afterwards, and dimly she was aware that she had collapsed on the bed, her entire body twitching and shaking as she tried to catch her breath. She felt him move back up her body, his slender form sliding against the sticky residue of the ice cream. He was hard again, the length of him pressed to her belly, and he pulled the tie from her eyes, loosing her wrists and chuckling as she grabbed his hair and dragged him to her for a fierce kiss.

"That was…" she gasped. "Oh!" She kissed him again, and he growled with pleasure, hands snaking down to grip her thighs and pull them up around his waist.

"Well, look at that," he breathed. "You won."

She heaved a shaking breath, her fingers digging into his shoulders.

"Best out of three?" she offered, and he grinned darkly.

It was growing late, and the mood at Granny's was becoming boisterous. Hook was talking to several of the dwarfs and Dr Whale about his seafaring adventures, most of which seemed to involve beautiful women who pursued him relentlessly. The tall tales made Emma roll her eyes, and she left his side to talk to Ruby, who promptly poured her a drink.

"From what Hook seems to be saying, there's a girl in every port," she said teasingly, and Emma snorted.

"Yeah, right. I know exactly what he was like, I saw his past self in the Enchanted Forest. Totally hit on anything with a cleavage."

"So – d'you think he's changed?" asked Ruby carefully, and Emma frowned, turning on her stool to look at her new – well, she wasn't exactly sure what she should call him. Were they boyfriend and girlfriend? She knew he wanted more than a fling.

"I think he has," she said finally. "I mean, look at how much he's changed since he first came here."

Ruby snorted. "Still haven't forgiven him for shooting Belle," she said crossly. "The guy'll have to throw around more than a couple of apologies before he gets in my good books."

"I know," sighed Emma. "But he has changed. If Regina can change, and Rumple can change, then I guess he can too."

Ruby made a noncommittal sound, wiping a glass that didn't really need it as she glared at the pirate.

"Did Belle say when their honeymoon was gonna be over?" asked Emma, changing the subject, and Ruby pulled a face.

"No, but as she didn't even tell me she was getting married, I'm not surprised," she said tartly. "Why? Worried you'll walk in them too?" She grinned evilly, and Emma shuddered.

"I think it'd be safest just to stay away from the cabin, the pawnshop, and their house until further notice," she said firmly. Ruby giggled.

At that moment, Moe French entered the diner, and their conversation quickly hushed, making him frown suspiciously.

"Evening, Moe," said Ruby warmly. "You want a beer?"

"Thanks, Ruby," he said, sliding onto one of the bar stools and flicking glances at the diner's occupants.

"The house must be quiet without Belle around," said Emma, in a bid to make conversation, and he shrugged.

"Not like I saw her that often," he said. "She was always with Gold. Mind you, I felt as though I'd never see her again the moment she left with him, back in our world." He pulled a wry face. "To be honest, what I was expecting to happen, didn't, thank the gods." He looked uncomfortable, pushing at a circle of moisture left on the bar by someone's glass and drawing a pattern with it, short lines out from the ring, like the rays of a sun. "The clerics told me horror stories of what he'd do to her," he added, looking from Emma to Ruby. "Gave me nightmares for months. In the great scheme of things, I guess her marrying the guy isn't too bad." He accepted a beer from Ruby and took a long swig, frowning as the noise coming from Hook and the others became louder.

"So, they actually walked in on them?" Whale was saying. "And couldn't leave? Man…" He shook his head. "That's gotta be a killer. And he had his true form? Seriously?"

"Turns out the girl likes the monster in her man," said Hook cheerfully. "Sweet little Belle, having the hots for the Dark One, in all his scaly-skinned glory."

Emma groaned, hoping that Moe hadn't heard that bit. One look at his reddening face made her realise her hope was in vain. She slipped from her stool and walked back to the group, hoping she could somehow shut Hook up. He'd been mixing rum with beer and had also discovered tequila, and it was beginning to show.

Leroy was frowning at Hook and Whale. "I ain't talkin' about Belle's private life," he said gruffly. "And nor should you be. What goes on behind closed doors stays there, you hear me, pirate?"

"Well, it does make you wonder," said Hook, grinning. "Didn't he say he'd taken her as a caretaker? How long did that last, I wonder? Maybe that spell was just recreating their first night together."

"Killian, will you stop that?" demanded Emma. "I really don't want to be imagining this stuff, thanks. If they spent their whole time together naked, I don't care. If she tied him up and beat him with a horsewhip, I don't want to hear about it, understand?"

Leroy winced, pulling away from the group and heading for the bar. "Great imagery. Thanks, sister. Seriously." He banged his glass on the bar. "Make it a large one, Ruby."

"Maybe she's the one that likes to be whipped," said Hook lasciviously. "Or probably spanked. Has to be some sort of daddy issue there, the guy's way older than her."

Moe's face was turning purple, and Ruby watched with a sense of foreboding as he slowly slid from his stool, finishing his beer very deliberately and placing his glass carefully on the bar. She really, really hoped he was going to leave.

"Enough!" snapped Emma, putting a hand on Hook's arm. "Stop grossing people out and get to your room."

"Only if you come with me, Swan," he purred, pulling her close and waggling his eyebrows, and she rolled her eyes.

"Don't even think about it," she said flatly, squirming free, and he snorted, turning back to Whale and the others.

"So according to my lovely lady, here," he continued. "He'd recreated the Dark Castle in that cabin he owns, and was shagging her on the rug in front of the fire. I'm guessing after he'd bent her over the table or tied her to the bed. The lovely Snow White needs her ears bleaching – evidently the girl's a screamer…"

A tap on the shoulder made him turn, and Moe's fist connected with his face in spectacular fashion, bursting his nose and lip and making him fly into Whale and Walter, the three of them sprawling to the ground in a tangle of limbs.

"You want to hear some fucking screaming, pirate?" stormed Moe, his eyes flashing with anger. Emma leapt at him, tugging him back from Hook, who was sitting up groggily and trying to staunch the blood streaming from his nose.

"Sorry, mate," he said thickly. "Didn't see you there."

"The next person to say anything about my daughter gets the same!" snapped Moe, glaring around the diner. Hook got to his feet with difficulty, nodding to the older man, whose fists were clenched in anger.

"Understood, mate," he said, holding up a placating hand. "No more imagery. I promise."

"Thank the gods for that," muttered Leroy, scowling as he threw back his whisky. "I was starting to think I'd have to go across the town line to forget this shit."

A/N: I think Hook's learnt his lesson on that one!