Their move to the small provincial town was rather uneventful. They'd both concocted a story to tell his son about how she was a former boarder of his. They'd fabricated a lie about how she'd been living with him since she graduated high school in the salmon Victorian. Neal couldn't figure out why his papa would leave out such an essential detail about his life, but Emma wasn't quite convinced. Emma had been in the foster system her entire life, bounced around from home to home, and she could tell an orphan when she saw one. The hollowness reflected behind the beauty's eyes told her everything she needed to know. She decided not to press the issue of her father-in-law's mysterious tenant, figuring the poor girl had probably already endured enough without her scrutinizing.

She'd dropped her former moniker and began going by the name of Lacey Knight. She bleached her long dark chestnut tresses, opting for a short platinum blond pixie cut instead. Her azure eyes were easily concealed with a pair of jade contacts. Everett was able to draw up some paperwork that would ensure Belle's transition to her new identity of Lacey Knight without speculation, thanks to some friends in high places. Lacey hadn't had any real schooling beyond the sixth grade, and Gold decided to provide her with online classes to help obtain her GED. He expected her to take a languid pace, but within a month, she'd passed the test and already enrolled in a few online classes to jump start her degree program.

Lacey had confided in Everett that she had dreams of becoming a librarian one day. He knew it would take at least four years to receive her degree, but he yearned for her to achieve her dreams sooner. Storybrooke had a quaint library which was run by an elderly woman known as, Thelma Shoe. Mrs. Shoe was old and hunchbacked, and had a hard time attending to the library as she had in years past. Everett had spent a few hours one Saturday afternoon with her, convincing her to hire a part time assistant which could aid her in shelving books and assisting visitors with their selections. Mrs. Shoe thought it was a splendid idea and with a bit of coaxing, the mayor agreed to allot enough funds from the town treasury to hire an assistant who worked four hours each afternoon and all day on Saturday. Lacey was reluctant but eager to begin her new journey of immersing herself fully into working class society. Gold made sure his tenant had everything she desired, from her education down to her wardrobe of high heels and pencil skirts.

Lacey didn't want Everett to feel like she was taking advantage of his generosity, so she began slipping him a few hundreds every month for rent. He wasn't too keen about her desire to compensate him, but she desired her independence. One day when she was more stable, she planned to get her own place. In the entirety of the year they'd become acquainted, Lacey finally began to see her benefactor as somewhat of a friend. She'd never done well with expressing her feelings, and cultivating a real human relationship with someone felt alien to her.

She and Everett took their meals together every night. It was practically the only part of the day they spent together. Lacey spent her mornings working on her course work and her afternoons working at the library, while Everett spent his running a local antiques dealership alongside his son. This gave them little to no time to spend together, and she couldn't figure out why it bothered her so much. He wasn't obligated to gift her with a second of it. She found between attending college and working at the library, she'd distracted herself from the pain of her imprisonment festering deep inside her heart. Her mind was engrossed in her many tasks during the day, but at night her days spent in the asylum manifested themselves within her nightmares.

Everett's bedroom was downstairs while Lacey's was upstairs. He was typically a heavy sleeper, but one night he found himself tossing and turning in bed and unable to fall asleep. He groaned, pushing the covers back, and prodding into the kitchen for a glass of water. He procured a glass from the cupboard, filling it with tap water. He took a few sips of the tepid liquid, nearly dropping his cup after hearing a blood curling scream erupting from her chamber. He pitched the cup in the sink, dashing up the stairs to her room. He flung open the door to find her holding her head in agony, while screaming for them to stop. She convulsed violently as if she were reenacting an electric shock therapy treatment. He climbed into bed after her, pulling her against his slender frame. She thrashed for a few moments before opening her eyes. Her breathing eased once she realized it was only a dream. He expected her to pull away from him, but instead she leaned further into his embrace.

"Mr. Gold, what are you doing here?" she inquired with labored breaths.

"I got up because I couldn't sleep, and I heard you screaming. I just wanted to make sure you were okay," he supplied, his voice filled with concern.

"It was only a nightmare. It happens almost on a nightly basis. During the day, I can escape my tormenting memories spent at the asylum, but at night it's nearly impossible unless I choose not to sleep," she confided in him.

"You don't have to tell me anything you aren't comfortable with, but I'll stay here with you if you need me to," he offered, bidding her closer.

She wasn't entirely certain if the pawnbroker held any type of affections for her or if he was simply being kind. She didn't have it in her right mind to care as she closed her eyes, snuggling closer to him.

"Please." she murmured. He spooned himself comfortably behind her, wrapping his arms securely around her waist. His hot breath fanning against her neck and his sage musk lulled her into a peaceful dreamless state. For the first time in twenty-five years, she truly felt safe.

Morning descended quickly upon them. Lacey awoke to feel him pressed pleasantly against her backside, and she didn't have it in her heart to move. Soft snuffles erupted from his lips as she felt his grip on her tighten. She'd never been this close to anyone before, and surprisingly she wasn't put off by his close proximity. His arms felt like a safe haven, she never wished to abandon. For a moment, she let herself believe he might actually desire her in an intimate way, until her insecurities reared their ugly head. Who was she kidding? She was a damaged broken girl without a home. The only reason he allowed her to stay here was because he pitied her. She was nothing more than his charity case, a tax write off at the end of the year.

Tears stung her eyes as she ripped herself away from his soothing embrace. His eyes fluttered open, filling with confusion from her sudden movement. "Lacey, what's wrong?" he asked, reaching for her hand. She yanked it back before he could touch her.

"I don't understand? What's the matter?" he probed, abashed by her sudden reaction. Moments prior she was contentedly cocooned in his warmth, and now she wanted nothing to do with him.

"Why did you ever concede to take in such a broken girl, Everett?" she answered as tears streamed down her ruddy cheeks.

His gaze flickered between her and the wall. "I grew up in the slums of Glasgow, Scotland. My mother died shortly after I was born, and my father couldn't have cared less about me. He drank himself into an early grave when I was seven years old. I was sent to live with an elderly aunt whom I lived with until I was eighteen. I aspired to better myself and got a college education in business financing. I moved to the states where there were better work opportunities and began building my empire from there. I met my wife, Milah when I was twenty-three, and we had a son shortly after. Our marriage ended in divorce after fifteen years, and I became the sole caretaker of my son. She ran off with some younger and better looking cruise ship captain and never returned." He drew in a deep breath, disbelieving he'd delivered practically his entire life story in a single breath. He wondered fleetingly if she thought him a pathetic dupe for the mistakes of his past. He sighed. "That night I saw you in my bed, I saw a reflection of my younger scared self. I felt compelled to protect you and give you the life you always deserved. I didn't do it out of pity or guilt. I did it because I wanted to. The only thing I expect in return is for you to be happy and thrive. Over the last year, I've come to care for you very much, but I'm not a selfish man. I would never push myself on you. You're not obligated to reciprocate anything I feel for you, but if you ever wanted something more, then I'm open to it, at your pace and in your timing, of course," he professed.

Her heart hammered in her chest from his confession. Did she dare allow herself to feel anything but isolation and darkness? Could anyone, dare she say it, love her? Her heart was a scrambled disarray of emotion, and she couldn't quite put into words what she felt for the pawnbroker. Her body expressed what her heart wasn't able as she drew herself back into his arms. He traced obsolete patterns along her back as she pressed her lips fervently against his. He returned the kiss just as eagerly. She pulled away, averting her gaze demurely.

"Lacey, I-" he halted as she placed a delicate finger against his lips.

"Please, don't call me by that name when we're alone. You're the last person who knew me as Belle, and you were the only person who cared about her. I want you to address me by my real name," she requested.

"Whatever you wish, sweetheart," he conceded, cradling her face in his weathered hands.

"Thank you," she said, smiling brokenly at him.

Over the next several weeks, Everett and Belle began dating. Their dates included frequenting the local town diner and taking spontaneous weekend getaways when she was able to find someone to take her Saturday shift at the library. Everett convinced her to visit the town therapist, a middle aged man named, Archie Hopper. He was very professional and charismatic, helping her sort through a lot of her issues. Archie prescribed her some Prozac to help maintain her anxiety and depression. As another year passed, she began to feel more confident and genuinely happy for once. Mrs. Shoe retired as the head librarian and turned it completely over to her. She still had two more years left in her degree program, and the mayor agreed to provide her with the funds to hire another assistant. She chose Grace, a curious high school graduate whose father owned a local hat shop in town.

Belle arrived home one crisp autumn afternoon to find a vase of red tipped roses sitting on the counter. She traipsed over to the counter, fingering the velvet petals between her fingertips. She bent over to smell one of the blooms, sighing pleasantly as she felt two willowy arms snake around her waist. Everett placed a sensual kiss on her nape, sending heat pooling in her belly.

"Welcome home, sweetheart," he muttered against her skin. She turned around to face him, adoration flickering across her gaze.

"What's the occasion?" she inquired, referring to the roses.

"Us. Go upstairs, and you'll find a special garment laid across your bed. Put it on and meet me downstairs in thirty minutes. I'm taking you out to dinner," he commanded, placing his hand on the small of her back.

Belle felt her toes curl pleasantly from his thoughtful gesture. She practically bounded up the stairs to find a royal blue sequined cocktail dress draped across the mattress. She picked up the gown, placing it in front of her to model in front of the full length mirror. She excitedly divested herself of her clothing and put it on. The gown accentuated her supple curves and highlighted her shapely legs, one of Everett's favorite features of hers. She paired the gown with her favorite suede pumps. She'd allowed her hair to lengthen out past her shoulders over the last two years, but she still chose to keep it blonde. She mussed up her curls with a bit of gel and painted on her favorite rose tinted lacquer. She descended the stairs to find her boyfriend dressed in one of his black silver pinstriped suits.

He gave an low appreciative whistle as his eyes roamed over her immaculate form. "You look stunning, darling," he crooned, offering her his hand as she came down the last step. She blushed girlishly at his compliment. Desire for her danced in his deep ocher eyes, and she felt a pleasant shiver creep up her spine from his amorous gaze.

"Shall we be on our way then?" he asked, gesturing towards the door with his free hand.

"Lead the way." She smiled, allowing him to escort her out of the cabin.

~X~

Everett had driven three towns over to dine at a refined establishment called, The Enigma . The five star restaurant was famous for its wide array of cuisine from all across the globe. It was said they had a chef from nineteen countries who specialized in certain dishes.

They ignored the stares they were eliciting from the refined crowd as they made their way to The Enigma's entrance. Belle clung to Everett's arm securely, waiting for the Japanese woman wearing coal black eyeliner to seat them.

"Do you have a reservation?" she inquired in her thick accent to the couple.

"Yes, it's under Gold," Everett supplied.

The hostess nodded in the direction of a man standing by the stairway entrance to the dining hall. "Marcelo will escort you to your table."

"Wait, why are we dining here?" Belle inquired to Everett with a raised brow.

"I made us a reservation," he winked, leading them in Marcelo's direction.

"I bet a cup of coffee is overpriced," she countered, unhappy about his decision to spend money so frivolously. He was always splurging on her, and the attention bothered her because she wasn't accustomed to being treated so tenderly.

"Cost isn't an option tonight, darling," he assured her as they followed their host to a circular booth with dim lighting. Sophisticated artwork adorned the mahogany walls around them, exuding a refined atmosphere.

"Here are your menus, and your server will be with you shortly," Marcelo supplied in his thick Italian accent, handing them each a menu. Everett scooted close to her as they thumbed through their menus, trying to decide on their first course. There were a few other couples seated around them, and she could hear bits and pieces of their hushed conversations.

"Why are you doing all of this?" Belle quizzed, waving her hand, gesturing towards the elaborate atmosphere.

"Because I love you," he answered, clasping her hand securely in his.

"Sometimes I wonder how you can after everything I've been through," she remarked, tears filling her jade eyes.

"Love knows no boundaries, sweetheart. As damaged as you think you are, it doesn't make you unloveable," he responded, squeezing her hand tightly.

"I love you too, Everett," she returned, her heart thudding heavily in her chest.

"I'm so blessed to call you mine," he said, taking her hand and placing a kiss against the underside of her wrist, his lips caressing the delicate tracery of veins beneath her skin. She shivered.

"Likewise." she muttered, unsure of how to answer him. Everett was always spouting off sweet sentiments like that, but romance made her tongue tied. She wasn't used to anyone putting her first or loving her. They sat in companionable silence while they decided on what to order.

Belle settled on a tossed salad and basil soup, while Everett decided on a three cheese lasagna and a bottle of their finest port. She pushed the lettuce around in her salad, trying to secure just the right amount on her fork for a proper bite. She watched him intricately cut his lasagna into smaller bites. He poured them each a glass of ruby port. Belle moaned in appreciation as the rich raspberry spirits exploded on her tongue euphorically. He glanced at her with a sensual gleam in his eye. She knew exactly what sort of pleasurable activities she wished to engage in, but being isolated for so long made intimacy hard for her. Having a sexual relationship of any kind turned her off because the thought of being touched repulsed her. She wanted to believe it would be different with Everett whenever they decided to take that leap. He'd been extremely patient with her throughout the course of their relationship, always allowing her to set the pace. He placed his lips against the shell of her ear. "Would you like some dessert?" he whispered, her cheeks warming from his close proximity.

"What did you have in mind?" she returned, tilting her head to meet his gaze.

"I hear the sundaes are to die for here," he suggested with a wicked gleam in his eye.

"Do your worst," she smirked as he motioned for their waiter. Her boyfriend had a sweet tooth as big as Willy Wonka's, and she always found herself baking for him. She enjoyed baking because it took her mind off the trauma.

"What would you like, sir, madam?" he inquired, gazing between the couple.

"We would like the Razzle Dazzle Flambe," he supplied, pointing to a picture in the menu of a three layer chocolate cake, drenched in hot fudge sauce, nuts, cherries, and caramel drizzle on top of the whip cream monument which sat atop the dessert. The first layer was lit up with a brilliant orange flame. Belle gasped when two waiters brought it to their table. It was the most delectable concoction she'd ever seen in her life.

"Bon appetit!" the waiters said simultaneously as they placed the confection down in front of them.

"Oh my goodness! It looks delightful!" Belle exclaimed, full of childlike glee.

"Would you like the first taste?" Everett inquired, passing her a spoon.

"Absolutely!" Belle squealed, grabbing the spoon, and dipping it into the cake. Gold felt his groin twitch as she placed the dessert in her mouth, followed by a satisfied moan.

"This is the best thing I've ever eaten," she sighed, relishing the combination of flavors exploding on her palette. He urged her to take another bite, distracting her and giving him time to unveil a thin black box from his suit pocket. A delicate silver calligraphy scrawled on the front read Tiffany and Co.

"What is that?" Belle inquired, placing her spoon on the plate.

"A gift from me. Now, close your eyes and turn around," he instructed. She obediently turned, becoming extremely curious about what was in the box.

"Open them," he commanded, fastening the clasp of her choker.

Belle looked down, flummoxed at the sight before her. She meticulously caressed the sparkling diamond and sapphire choker that contrasted splendidly with her irises.

"Everett, I can't accept this! It must have cost a fortune," she stammered, overwhelmed by his thoughtful gesture.

"I've had this necklace for a very long time. It belonged to my grandmother back in Glasgow. My aunt held onto it for years and gifted it to me before I went off to college. I never gave it to Milah because she wasn't into antique jewelry. I knew she wouldn't appreciate it. I can't imagine anyone else having it but the woman I love more than life itself. Would you please accept it?" he pleaded, drawing her into his arms.

"Yes, I'll accept it, though it feels like a lot," she replied, gazing deeply into his sable depths, shining with so much love for her.

"If I could gift you with all the treasure in the world, it still wouldn't exude the depth of my devotion for you," he said, kissing her crown affectionately.

"I love you, Everett," she smiled tearfully, throwing her arms around him, and kissing him sensually.

He broke the kiss briefly, staring amorously into her eyes. "I have one more thing for you, sweetheart," he stated, placing a finger to her lips. She scooted out of his lap momentarily to observe him procure a small black velvet box from his pocket. Tears spilled over her lashes as she watched him get out of the booth and saunter over to her side. He bent down on one knee in front of her, holding out the box.

"I know I can't change the past, but I know together that we can have a future far brighter than we could ever imagine. Will you marry me?" he proposed, gazing up at her ardently.

"Yes, I'll marry you!" she gushed happily as he placed the three karat diamond upon her third left finger. She threw her arms around him, clinging to him desperately. He ran his fingers through her blond tresses happily, a few tears trekking down his cheek.

"You make me happier than I've ever been in my entire life," he revealed.

"You mean everything to me, Everett," she whispered. He sat back down in the booth, pulling her into his lap, burying his face in her nape. They sat in companionable silence as he nuzzled her collarbone affectionately. Cheers and applause erupted around them, but they barely noticed because they were too caught up in the moment.

"Let's get married immediately, I don't want to wait," she confided as he rose up to meet her gaze.

"I see no point in waiting either. The sooner you procure my last name, the better," he grinned, kissing her softly.

A dark skinned woman having dinner with her husband observed the proposal which unfolded in front of her. She couldn't quite place the blonde woman who was giggling at something her lover had whispered in her ear. Tamara was certain she'd seen her from somewhere before. She was off duty, but decided to take out her phone and scroll through her open case files. A haze of faces infiltrated her vision as she scrolled past each one, until she came to a blue eyed, brown haired young woman with tousled curls. She glanced up at the blonde and back down at the picture of the young woman on her phone. There was no mistaking their similarities. The woman sitting three tables across from her was none other than Belle French, the runaway from Celestial Heights Institution. She studied the middle aged man clad in his expensive suit, realizing he was someone she'd questioned two years ago. The couple appeared to be exceptionally happy, and destroying their happiness seemed petty, especially as the blonde marveled at her new engagement ring under the muted candlelight. She closed out the case file on her phone and placed it back in her handbag.

"Are you ready to go?" Greg Mendel, her husband of three years, and a fellow police officer, inquired.

"Yeah, do you have the check?" she asked as he procured a white strip of paper from off the table.

"Right here," he affirmed, standing up from his chair. Tamara followed him out of the dining hall but not before glancing back at the blissful couple. Everett caught her gaze, and they both gave each other an understanding nod. Belle French was safe, and Tamara had no intention of exploiting her. The case was closed as far as she was concerned.

~X~

"Lacey" and Everett wed three weeks after his proposal. They never dispelled her true origins to anyone because it didn't seem necessary. One year following their nuptials, she gave birth to a beautiful brown haired, sable eyed girl named, Rosalie. As the years ticked by, the wounds festering inside her soul transformed into the scars of a survivor. She learned the institution had been exposed by a case worker who'd became overly suspicious, and they'd shut down the entire operation. Belle reached her dream of becoming a librarian, and she and Everett lived a happy and fulfilling life together.

The End