Once Upon a Time belongs to Adam, Eddy, and ABC: this is just a little what if I dreamed up. Hope you enjoy :)

This takes the "Skin Deep" deleted scene as the jumping off point.

A Twist in the Tale

His hands are on her waist and she can feel his heat against her back.

She'd been about to pull the cover off the large mirror he keeps in the great hall, but he had reached up to stop her, telling her that there are other reasons a mirror might be covered. She thought to ask what he meant by that, but now his hands are on her waist, and every other thought but how his hands feel on her has vanished.

This is the closest they've been since the day she fell from the ladder and he caught her. Since then, he's been deliberately keeping his distance, it seems, but not today, and her heart beats with anticipation.

Rumplestiltskin can feel her supple body beneath his hands and can only imagine how good it would feel to touch her like this without anything between his hands and her warm, soft skin. Oh, the things he would like to do…

He's surprised to feel her leaning back a little. She's not pulling away from him in disgust. His withered heart leaps with some emotion he hasn't felt in centuries: he thinks it's hope.

He can feel her heat seeping into him, and he feels himself leaning into it.

He's not pulling away, and she's glad. She feels closer to him than she ever has, feels an intimacy between them that excites her. She turns her head a little, wanting him to know that she's ok with this, with his touch and his closeness: she wants both.

She so longs to know him, and he's not pulling away, so maybe now he will let himself be known.

'What happened…to your family?' she asks softly, feeling his breath ghosting over her hair.

Rumplestiltskin is getting increasingly intoxicated by the scent and feel of her. He can smell her hair, the hint of roses, and he can't help but breathe it in, closing his eyes as he does so. Gods, she's enchanting.

But she's asked him a question.

'What happened…is that I'm a difficult man to love,' he replies, his lips almost pressed against her hair now. He's trying to warn her off, because he knows it's the right thing to do, but she's fully leaning against him now, her head almost on his shoulder, and he doesn't want to lose this, and that frightens him, and it makes him feel brave, and that frightens him too.

Belle doesn't believe that. She doesn't think he's difficult to love at all. She loves him. It's the first time she's admitted that to herself, but it's easy to accept it when he's holding her like this, speaking so softly to her, and she's wrapped up in the scent of spices and magic that she's come to associate with him.

'I found clothes, upstairs,' she says now. 'Small, as if for a child? Were they yours, or was there a son?'

'There was,' he confesses after a moment: 'there was a son.'

She can hear the sadness in his voice, the regret. She wants to comfort him and she lifts her left hand to rest on his right where he still holds her by the waist. She wants to comfort him, but she also wants his touch.

Rumplestiltskin holds his breath. He doesn't understand why she's touching him, why she wants him to touch her, but there's that hope leaping up again, and he doesn't want this to end.

'Where is he now?' she asks softly. Something tells her he's not dead. She remembers that remembrance ceremony she walked in on a while ago, when Rumplestiltskin told her the person he was remembering wasn't dead, just lost to him: how terrible that must be for him.

'I lost him,' he says now, 'as I did his mother.'

She thinks through his response. He had a wife and son once, which means that, no matter his odd appearance, he's also just a man, and he's here, holding her, letting her touch him. She can feel his thumb tracing over the sensitive skin between her thumb and forefinger now, and she's not sure if it's an unconscious gesture, or if he's aware he's doing it. Either way, it feels nice.

'And, since then, you've loved no one,' she says softly, 'and no one has loved you.'

He doesn't say anything, but he doesn't pull away either, and that gives her the courage to turn and look up into his eyes.

He gasps at the way she's looking at him, with such openness and affection. No woman has ever looked at him like that, not even his wife.

Belle feels her cheeks flush at the tension between them. She never felt anything like this with Gaston, but she was never in love with Gaston.

Rumplestiltskin is still holding her and she puts her hands on his shoulders. She feels him stiffen, can tell he's unsure, but he doesn't pull away.

He hardly knows what's happening, but whatever it is, he wants it.

'I don't find you difficult to love, Rumple,' she says tenderly, leaning closer.

He's frowning, but he's also frozen. He's both confused and intrigued, but he wants this, wants her…loves her. It's the first time he's really admitted it to himself.

Is she actually saying that she loves him? There's that hope leaping inside him again.

She touches her lips to his, soft as the brush of a feather, and then his eyes drift closed, accepting it, and he kisses her back.

They part after only a moment, but Belle is happier than she's ever been. She smiles at Rumple's half-closed eyes, but then she gasps as his appearance starts to change.

It starts at his lips. The greenish/gold scales are being replaced by human skin, and his large reptilian eyes are suddenly a warm brown.

'W-what's happening?' he whispers.

'I don't know,' Belle says, both shocked and fascinated.

He can feel the power receding and he's suddenly terrified. He pulls away from her and the magic envelops him again. He looks down to see the skin on his hands turn back to scales, and the voice of the Darkness is loud in his head once more, cackling maniacally at him and telling him that it warned him not to trust her.

'What sorcery is this?' he demands.

He's angry, she sees, and she doesn't know what she just did to make him so.

'I don't know,' she tells him. 'I don't know what happened.' It was just a kiss, she thinks: her first, actually. 'I kissed you and you kissed me back. I don't know why that happened.'

He advances on her and her heart thumps. He doesn't believe her.

'What are you? A witch? A fairy? Did someone send you here to rob me of my power?'

Her eyes widen. 'What? No! I would never do that to you. Why would I make a deal with you to save my people from the ogres if I could have done it myself?' she asks. 'Rumple,' she entreats, reaching out to him.

'Don't!' he bellows, terror in his eyes.

'I'm sorry,' she breathes, upset by his anger and fear: that was never what she wanted.

He sees her flinch at his yell and part of him wants to reach out to her and soothe her, but the part that doesn't trust her has to know how she was able to do that to him.

Belle just wants that intimacy they shared only moments ago back.

'Please,' she begs, 'please don't be angry with me, Rumple. I'm sorry if I hurt you: I didn't mean to. I only wanted to show you that I love you.'

The Darkness is screaming at him that she's lying, but the part of him that's still human and that remembers how she felt in his arms wants to believe her. He wants to believe that those feelings were real, that she welcomed his touch, that they connected in a way he's never connected with anyone before…

'There was magic in that kiss,' he tells her, wanting, but not yet willing, to believe she's being honest with him.

He can see she's confused, and he doesn't think she's a good enough actress to be pretending.

'But I don't have magic,' she insists. 'I've been here for months. You've never seen me use magic.'

'Someone could have given it to you,' he persists: 'one of those witches I rescued you from, perhaps. Perhaps you made a deal with them to stay with me until you could strip me of my power.'

'But I didn't,' she claims desperately. 'I would never do that to you: I wouldn't!'

She stares helplessly at him and something in him leaps up against the Darkness howling for her blood. No.

'I don't understand,' he says now: 'I don't understand how a kiss could do that to me.'

'Could someone have put a spell on me without me knowing?' she asks softly.

He studies her. She seems genuine in wanting to help him figure this out, which leads him to believe more and more that she doesn't know how her kiss did that to him. The Darkness is screaming at him that she's trying to trick him, but he hisses at it to shut up.

'It's possible,' he says then, and, without giving her any warning, he waves his hand and brings them both to his tower workroom.

Disoriented at the abrupt shift in location, Belle lurches forward and his arms immediately wrap around her, steadying her.

She's pressed against his chest for a long beat, and she feels his heart thumping hard. He stiffens and she immediately tears up as she feels that the intimacy has given way to awkwardness.

'I'm sorry,' she murmurs, stepping back, feeling a strange mix of bittersweet emotions. She's confessed her love, but he doesn't seem to believe her, and all she wants is to be close to him, but that seems to be impossible now, especially if it's only going to hurt him, and yet she still longs for it.

'It's no matter,' he says, seeing the uncertainty pass over her face. He wishes that gone, but he must know how her kiss could banish his power. If someone did put a spell on her, she could be in danger too.

Pushing her confused feelings aside, Belle looks around.

'Your workroom,' she says, surprised: 'what are we doing here?'

'You suggested that someone put a spell on you without you knowing,' he says: 'if that's true, I'll soon know who did it and what kind of spell it was. There aren't many who might be powerful enough to use you to neutralise the Dark One.'

'Is that what our kiss was doing?' she asks.

'Yes.'

'But you stopped it?'

'Yes.'

'Did I hurt you?' she asks, worried, and his withered heart clenches at the sound of it.

'Do I look hurt?' he asks gently, and she sees something in his eyes like tenderness.

'No,' she says, 'but I'm still sorry.'

'Apology accepted,' he says, because he doesn't want her upset, not when he knows this isn't her fault. The Darkness says otherwise, but he's able to ignore it somehow. It's as if, with her here, he's able to erect a barrier against it.

'I require a strand of your hair, Belle: plucked, please,' he requests.

She immediately pulls out a strand and hands it to him. She watches in fascination as he selects a vial of colourless liquid from a shelf, flips the top off with his nail, and drops her hair in. The liquid turns a crimson colour.

'Every magical being has a signature,' he tells her: 'generally, it manifests as a colour.'

'So, whose signature is that?' she asks softly.

'Mine,' he says, looking at her.

She nods. The magic swirling around them any time he's transported them somewhere has always been crimson.

'What does this mean, then?' she asks.

'It means that the only magic you've been exposed to is mine. It means that you told me the truth: you don't have magic, and it means that no one put a spell on you to banish my power.'

'I see,' she says, wondering if he thinks she tried to rid him of his power deliberately. 'Then how could me kissing you have done that?' she wonders. 'I don't understand.'

'No more do I,' he says.

She can see he's really stumped. This must be a first for the supremely powerful Dark One.

'Did that ever happen before, when you kissed someone?' she asks, not really wanting to know about women he's kissed before, but feeling like it might help solve the problem. She can't look at him, though: she doesn't want him to see how self-conscious she's feeling.

'Just how many women do you think want to kiss the Dark One?' he asks, almost amused.

'There must have been others,' she says, and he can hear her self-doubt.

He puts his hand down on the workbench beside hers.

'That has never happened to me before,' he tells her, and he hopes she understands there's something different about her, something special.

Belle smiles, hearing his attempt to reassure her. He must care about her, if he's doing that, if he's taking a moment to single her out from the many women who must have been as fascinated by him as she is.

She moves her hand over his and turns her head to smile at him.

'There's still the question of why that happened,' he says, pulling away, 'and that's a question I need to find the answer to. It's important that I know.'

'So no one can use it against you,' she says.

He nods. He's not surprised she understands: she is rather perceptive.

'Ok, well, if it wasn't a spell, what could it have been?' she asks. 'I could help you research, if you like, since it's all my fault in the first place.'

He considers for a moment and then waves his hand, and a book appears on the workbench in front of her.

'Start looking through that,' he invites. 'You're looking for magic that's created by a kiss.'

'Alright,' she says, and smiles at him. It's the first time he's let her help him.

Rumplestiltskin clicks his fingers and a stool appears behind her.

'We could be here a while: might as well make yourself comfortable.'

She smiles and thanks him, and she sits, getting to work.

He takes a seat on the other side of the bench and they don't speak as they both look through books on magic.

They do look at each other, though, or, rather, they catch each other looking. Belle smiles the first time she looks up to find him just looking away, and she can feel that intimacy from before again, the awkwardness mostly gone.

Rumplestiltskin has always liked seeing her head bent over a book. What a fascinating mind she has from all that reading. It's one of the things he loves most about his beautiful Belle.

Is he allowed to call her that: his? Well, she kissed him, and says she loves him. He wants to believe that's real, because he loves her. He can't deny it any more: he doesn't want to, and damn the Darkness screaming at him that she's lying, that no one could love him. After his father, Milah, and Cora, he never believed anyone could, but perhaps Belle could make him believe again. He thinks if anyone could change how he feels about himself, it's her.

Belle searches index after index, but she finds nothing, until Rumplestiltskin magics a book on light magic in front of her. She finds something in that, alright: True Love's Kiss.

Her heart beats wildly as she reads about the power of True Love and what a kiss born of it can do. This has to be the answer.

'Rumple, I-I found something,' she says, and she can't hide the joy in her voice.

Rumplestiltskin frowns at her tone, and gasps at the way she smiles at him, as though he's the sunlight and she's been in the dark for too long. Gods.

'What is it?' he asks, moving around the bench to her, needing to be close to her.

Belle wonders if he'll believe it. He might not, but she's convinced that they just shared True Love's Kiss. There's nothing else it could be, not feeling the way she does about him.

'Look for yourself,' she invites, pushing the book over.

Leaning in close beside her, he reads, and she hears his intake of breath at the revelation.

'It…it can't be,' he breathes, but she can hear the hope in his voice at the same time.

'Why can't it be?' she asks gently.

He looks at her, and he's never felt less worthy of her.

'Because I'm a monster, Belle.'

'You're not a monster,' she insists, putting her hand on his arm.

He pulls away from her. He doesn't deserve her sympathy or her optimism.

She sees him pulling away emotionally as well as physically and she doesn't want that, so she steps forward.

'You saw what the book said—'

'Shut up,' he snaps. He has to make this stop. It can never be: it would ruin her life.

'This means it's True Love!' she persists.

'Shut the hell up!' He's grasping her by the arms now. If he can't make her see reason, he'll have to scare her.

'Why won't you believe me?' she pleads, brow furrowed, eyes shining with unshed tears.

'Because no one could ever, ever love me!' he shouts, and he's shaking her roughly now. There: that ought to frighten her away. It's better this way, he thinks, safer for the both of them.

She's afraid, but she forces herself to look up at him.

'I do,' she insists, staring pleadingly at him.

Something about her face, her voice, the look in her eyes hits something inside him then and he stares back at her.

He knows all about desperation. He knew it before he became the Dark One and he knows it now too, because the Darkness likes to prey on it. That's desperation he sees in Belle now. Desperation comes from something deep inside, something you hold precious and close and true. For him, it's his son: it's always been his son. For Belle, it's…him.

She does love him. It's impossible, but it's there all the same.

He's holding her by the arms, not pulling away, and not pushing her away. Does he believe her at last? He doesn't look like he's angry with her any more, at least.

Taking an enormous risk, she moves her hands up to his shoulders and around his neck, and then she leans her head against his chest and waits for his reaction.

He holds his breath. He just shook her like she was a rag doll and now she's holding him. His anger is gone, melted away like morning frost, and the voice of the Darkness is gone too. His head is blissfully clear. Instinctively, he wraps his arms around her.

Belle catches her breath and then burrows closer. He can feel her smiling.

'I'm not a good man,' he tells her solemnly. She can't be under any illusions about him.

She pulls back to look at him. 'Just what kind of man do you think I want?' she asks gently.

'A man with no burden of darkness,' he responds.

'We all have darkness in us,' she tells him.

'Not like this,' he insists.

She studies him. 'I can feel that something…evil…has taken root in you, but I also see goodness. You've been kind to me…more than kind. You call yourself a monster, but a true monster couldn't share True Love.'

Her eyes shine as she says those words and he can't help but smile. It fades, though, as he realises what this would mean for her. If he's her True Love, she's doomed. How can he make her happy? How can he give her what she deserves? He can't… He wants to, but he can't.

'There is something evil in me,' he agrees: 'more than any ordinary darkness. That's why you must leave.' He pulls away from her and turns around.

'What? Why?'

'Because I destroy everything good.'

'I don't believe that,' she says, touching his arm.

'I lost my son because of this Darkness,' he tells her: 'I…can't lose you too.'

She moves, pushing herself between him and the workbench.

'You don't have to lose me, Rumple: we can figure this out.'

'You say that now, but you don't know what you're dealing with,' he tells her.

'Then explain it to me,' she entreats.

She's looking at him so bravely, so steadfastly. If he showed her the heart of the beast, would she run, or would she help him fight it? She's already helping him fight it: the voice of the Darkness has retreated with her in his arms. Could it be like this always?

'Belle,' he whispers. He touches her cheek.

She leans into the touch, looking up at him steadily.

'You can tell me anything,' she says, raising her hand to stroke through his hair. 'I love you.'

It's amazing to him to hear her say that. Would she be saying it if she knew everything, though? He realises that the only way to know for sure if she can love him is to tell her the truth, about everything. Then, if she pulls away from him, he'll know that that book was wrong and that she's not his True Love. Love can't be True if it can't accept everything about you.

So, he tells her: he tells her about his father, Milah, the Ogres War, injuring himself so he could be a father to his son, his beautiful, beautiful child: the light of his life. He tells her about the duke's proclamation and his desperate attempt to save his boy, about the dark night he made a deal he didn't understand and took on this cursed power, about losing his son because he couldn't lose the power, about the Seer's second prophesy and his centuries-long search to find a way back to his son, about the curse to end all curses and the queen who's going to cast it for him.

'That's why I need the power, Belle,' he tells her: 'I'm so close now.'

She nods. 'I understand,' she says softly, eyes bright with the tears she's been shedding as he told his story. 'There's really no other way?' she asks hopefully.

'Every other way I tried failed,' he tells her: 'this is how it's meant to be.'

She nods again. 'And everything you've done has been for this?'

'Yes.'

'But how…how do I fit in to your plan?' she asks, confused, because she can't see how she does. She doesn't have magic: she's not powerful, so why did he want her?

'You…weren't part of the plan,' he admits.

She nods. She's not sure what to say, what that means. Of course, she doesn't expect him to need her, but…

'I promised I would love nothing else,' he says, 'but…'

'But what?' she asks.

He touches her cheek. 'But I didn't know I'd meet you,' he replies, 'and I didn't know what would happen between us, what we'd share.' He can't deny it any more: it's True Love.

Her smile starts slow and soft, but then it grows until it lights her whole face. She looks like she's glowing.

'Rumple,' she breathes: 'you…you do love me.'

He pulls her into his arms as she lets out a sob.

'I love you,' he agrees. 'You infuriate me with your questions and digging into my soul, but I love you, my brave little Belle.'

She hums out a laugh and holds him tighter.

'That's why I should make you leave,' he says then.

'What?' she demands, pulling back.

'I can't offer you anything but darkness and pain, Belle,' he tells her resignedly.

'No,' she returns: 'no, that's not true.'

'I'm the Dark One, Belle: darkness and pain come with the territory.'

'But it doesn't have to be that way, not any more. This is True Love, Rumple,' she says, putting her hand over his heart: 'this is stronger than any darkness.'

'You don't know this Darkness, Belle: it was born of vengeance and hatred and anger, and it's grown over centuries. It destroys everything it touches.'

'It won't destroy my love for you,' she promises: 'nothing will.'

'You don't know that.'

'I feel it,' she counters. 'Rumple, you put your faith in the idea that you will find your son: can you also put your faith in me?'

He raises his hands to her face, cupping her cheeks gently. She smiles and curls her hands around his wrists.

'I want to put my faith in you, Belle,' he says, 'but the Darkness in me has a will of its own, and it doesn't know how to love.'

'You do, though,' she says. 'I can see it in your eyes, Rumple: I feel it in your touch. Your love is the root of the goodness in you. I believe that's stronger than any darkness, even the one living in you.' She moves a hand up to caress his jaw. 'I'm not leaving you,' she tells him determinedly: 'I will stay with you and help you fight it.'

'You already are helping,' he tells her, and when she smiles and wraps her arms around his neck, he pulls her close. 'It goes away when I hold you.'

'Good,' she says, pressing closer.

'I can't kiss you, Belle,' he says: 'I can't take the chance it would work again.'

She looks up at him and nods. 'I understand.'

'I may not be able to love you the way I want to here,' he continues, 'but I will arrange it so that we're together in this new land, and happy. While we wait to find my son, we will be together, and when we find him, I'll find a way to destroy this Darkness for good.'

She nods and smiles. 'Alright, and I'll help you any way I can.'

'I love you,' he tells her.

She wraps her arms around him again. 'I love you too.'

He smiles, truly happy for the first time in centuries, and with the Darkness at bay with Belle close, he believes more than ever that he can find Bae and destroy the Darkness once and for all.

0

'There'll be a price,' he tells her.

'There always is with you,' Regina returns, watching his face peer through the bars of his cell. 'What do you want?'

'In this new land, I want comfort. I want a good life.' He pouts, playing up his plaintiveness at being stuck in this squalid cell.

'Very well,' she returns, feeling magnanimous: 'you'll have an estate, be rich. Now—'

'I'm not finished yet,' he snaps.

'Go on,' she sighs, impatient and tired of his demands.

'Belle,' he says: 'whatever hell you have planned for her, scrap it. I want her by my side as my wife, and I want us happy.'

'Fine,' she says, rolling her eyes, scornful of the fact that he's obviously still gaga over the little chit, and annoyed that whatever protections he's placed on her, she can't get around: 'you'll have your little maid for your wife and you'll be blissfully happy together.' It's not the life she planned for them, but, in the end, she wants her happy ending more than she hates the imp, so she'll give him what he wants in return for what she needs to cast the curse.

'Now,' she says, 'tell me what I must do.'

0

Gold wakes with the morning sun streaming in the window. He smiles as the form curled into his side grumbles that it's too early and cuddles closer, her soft, supple body pressed against him, her leg between his. Well, if he wasn't awake before, he definitely is now.

Lacey Gold smiles against her husband's chest.

'Well, maybe it's not too early after all,' she murmurs, sliding her hand down his belly.

He catches it in his before she can drive him to distraction, laughing softly at her cry of complaint.

'Can't get enough of me, hmm?' he asks, bringing her hand up to his lips to kiss it.

'Never,' she agrees, looking up at him earnestly.

He smiles. He doesn't know how, but he somehow managed to win the heart and the hand of lovely Lacey, and he's never been happier. Their May/December romance has surprised most people, and he knows that no one in town expected them to make it, but it's been years and they're still blissfully happy together.

Lacey flushes at her husband's awed gaze. She knows he thinks it's a miracle that she loves him, but she feels exactly the same way about him. He's a fascinating man and she adores him. He's everything she's ever wanted and more, and she intends to show him right now how much she loves him.

Gold watches as his little wife raises herself up to hover over him.

'Oh, Lacey,' he whispers longingly.

'Can't you get enough of me either?' she asks, smiling.

He raises his hand to tangle in her hair.

'Definitely not,' he breathes, reaching up as she leans down to kiss him.

The moment their lips meet, memories slam into place and they pull apart quickly, staring at each other.

'Rumple?' Belle questions, shocked.

'Belle,' he returns, and then his shock turns into relief. 'It worked: thank gods.'

'Oh, Rumple,' she sighs out, falling on top of him and wrapping her arms tight around him.

They hold each other as they remember the last years of planning and the worry they both felt as he went off to deal with Cinderella. They knew they wouldn't see each other again until after the curse had been cast, and though he promised they'd be together, they both knew it all depended on the capricious nature of the Evil Queen. It could all have gone horribly wrong, so the fact that they're here together is miraculous.

'Let me look at you,' he whispers, and she pulls back, lying on her side, so they can look into each other's eyes. 'Oh, my sweet Belle…'

'Oh, Rumple,' she returns, stroking his cheek. 'It all worked just like you said, and we're here, together, just like you promised. How long do we have to wait until we can find Baelfire?'

'Twenty-eight years,' he tells her. 'Our kiss woke us up on the first day of the curse.'

'Was that supposed to happen?' she asks.

He smiles. 'Darling, you know as well as I do that True Love's Kiss can break any curse.'

She smiles, but then catches her breath. 'But your magic!'

'It's still there,' he tells her. 'The Darkness is sleeping right now: it won't wake again until I bring magic back after the Saviour breaks the curse, and then I'll need you, Belle. You keep me in the Light.'

'I will be here,' she promises, 'always.'

He takes her hand and kisses it in thanks.

'In the meantime, Regina can't know that we're awake. We have twenty-eight years of pretending, where you have to be Lacey and I have to be Gold, but I know that together we can do it. Time won't pass and we won't age, so it might seem monotonous,' he warns.

'I'm quite sure that you and I can find ways to pass the time,' she says confidently. 'After all, Lacey and Gold are a happily married couple.' And she flushes as implanted memories flash through her mind.

Rumplestiltskin guesses what's made her look like that, and he knows he has his own memories of being with Lacey, but those memories aren't real, and he's pretty sure he can do better than that phantom self Regina created.

'I'm quite sure we can too,' he tells her, rolling her onto her back, smiling at her little gasp of excitement. 'I've waited over two years to be able to do this, my sweet Belle,' he whispers: 'may I show you how I love you?'

'Yes,' she breathes, looking up into warm brown eyes that she's somehow always seen beneath the reptilian ones. 'I love you,' she whispers.

'And I love you too,' he says, and kisses her deeply.

Rumplestiltskin and Belle waste no more time in sharing the love that's simmered between them for over two years. As the wait begins until they can find Baelfire, they take comfort in the fact that they can be together at last. When they find Rumple's son, their happiness will be complete.

The end. Thanks for reading :)