A/N: I may have mentioned that I have a thing for student/teacher kinks, and apparently quite a few of my readers do as well! This fic is for shipperqueen93 and ripperblackstaff, and (obviously) for mr-r-gold.

Professor Gold was marking assignments, which was possibly the least favourite of his daily tasks. He sighed, flicking his hair out of his eyes as he flourished his red pen and crossed firmly through the feeble attempts of one of his students to explain the decay of radioactive isotopes. The poor efforts of some in his class made his blood boil. Freshmen were the absolute worst, he found, most driven by their desire to pass the science element of their course than by any innate love of chemistry. When they weren't being driven entirely by their hormones, of course. A few applied themselves. A few had that rare combination of ability and conscientiousness that he admired. The rest of them were marking time in Chemistry 101 until they could leave his classroom for good and never return. He found himself eagerly awaiting the departure of most of them.

There were exceptions, of course. He had been blessed with a few this year, but head and shoulders above them all was Belle French, one of his third years. He sat back with a sigh as her face swam into his vision once more. Miss French was highly intelligent, and an excellent student with an inquisitive mind. She had even pulled several of her friends along with her, and their own grades had increased through her encouragement. She was the sort of student that, if he had a class filled with them, would make coming to work a joy. Unfortunately, she was also beautiful, with long, pale legs and full, red lips that he thought about kissing far too often. And she was his downfall, he was absolutely sure.

He rolled his pen between his palms as he remembered the day he had crossed the line, the line he had sworn never to cross, the line he had never thought he would cross. It had been only three days, and he hadn't seen her since. It had started so innocently, with one of California's rare showers, and Belle French being caught in the rain in a thin dress.

He was walking to the university, sheltered by his umbrella, when she hurried past, head down and arms folded protectively around the stack of books she carried.

"Miss French," he called.

Belle looked around in surprise, seemingly ready to run on again, which he could understand. These squally showers were the worst for soaking you through in a short space of time. She smiled, though, and it warmed his heart to see her face light up.

"Professor Gold," she said pleasantly, and gestured to his umbrella. "You seem to be a little better prepared than me."

"Here," he said gently, beckoning to her, and handed her the umbrella while he shrugged off his jacket. He put it around her shoulders and took back the umbrella, trying not to look at where the rain had made her dress almost transparent. She was wearing a lacy bra that showed through the white cotton, and he cursed himself for a perverted old fool. The girl wasn't even half his age. Belle shivered a little as she clutched the jacket around herself, rainwater trickling down her face and over the deep pink curve of her lower lip. She licked it off instinctively, and Gold felt a sudden hitch in his chest.

"I don't believe we have class today," he said politely, trying to take his mind off her pale beauty, as she linked her arm through his and they turned towards the university grounds. The position brought the firm swell of her breast in contact with his arm, and he tried not to flinch at the feel of it, his heart thumping at her closeness. She didn't appear to notice.

"Next class is Friday," Belle confirmed. "Although I finished the prep work you set. It wasn't too bad."

"You're always prepared, Miss French," he observed. "I trust exams went well?"

"Well enough," she agreed. "It helps when your teachers are good, of course. I feel as though I did particularly well in chemistry." She winked at him, blue eyes sparkling, and he swallowed hard.

"Well, you're a pleasure to teach," he managed, clearing his throat. She was watching him curiously as they walked, and it was making his skin feel strangely tight. His senses were suddenly magnified; he could feel the errant rain drop that occasionally got past the edge of the umbrella, the light breeze chilling him through the thin silk of his shirt, the warm press of her flesh against his upper arm. He felt a sudden stirring below his waist, and his eyes widened in horror.

"Ah – Miss French!" he stumbled. "Have you – ah – I mean – how are you enjoying the class?"

Belle's eyes narrowed slightly. "I'm enjoying it very much," she said slowly. "Professor Gold, are you okay?"

Probably thinks I'm an idiotic old fool who hasn't taken his meds. Gold tried to regain control of himself, relieved when he saw the entrance to the university.

"A little tired, that's all," he said, unsure whether the lame excuse was convincing, but she nodded in understanding.

"I get that. When I was sitting my exams I was a nightmare to be around. Ruby threatened to lock herself in the bathroom until it was all over at one point." She giggled, glancing across at him, and he returned her smile. They walked on in silence for a moment, until they had passed onto the university grounds and made their way towards the library.

"Well, this is me," said Belle brightly, shrugging off his jacket and handing it back. "Thanks for being my knight in shining armour, Professor Gold. I would have caught my death. This dress isn't exactly waterproof." She looked down at herself ruefully, to where the dress was sticking to her perfect curves. Her underwear showed through clearly, crisp white against skin only a few shades warmer, and Gold swallowed hard.

"It was my pleasure," he said hoarsely, keeping his eyes on her face. She smiled at him, blushing a little. Good, she was about to leave. He could go back to his office and bang his head on the desk for an hour or two before class. Perhaps that would knock some sense into him. Better that than thinking about what she might look like if he were to take her back to his apartment and peel her out of that dress and…

"Are you sure you're okay?" Her voice pulled him back to reality. Mostly.

"Miss French, would you have dinner with me?" he blurted, and had to stop himself from gaping at her. Why the fuck had he said that? Okay, it might have been what he was thinking about, but since when did he verbalise every stupid bloody thought that passed through his head? If that started happening on a regular basis he couldn't be anywhere near her. She was staring at him, a tiny smile lifting the corners of her mouth.

"Like a date?" she asked, and somehow he managed to gather his thoughts.

"Yes," he managed. "A date." He was going to hell. That was it, he was on the slippery slope down into the pits of Hades to join all the other professors that hit on their students. She was chewing her lip, looking a little uncertain, and he hated himself. Of course she wouldn't want to go out with him. He sighed, looking away.

"Forgive me, Miss French, that was highly inappropriate," he began. "I'm sorry, I should never have asked you, and…"

"Oh, no, I'd like to!" she insisted, putting a hand on his arm, her touch sending a thrill through his body. "It's just…" She looked awkward. "I've kind of started sleeping with my physics professor." She reddened.

Gold felt his mouth fall open. Rush? She was shagging Rush? How the hell had the lucky bastard managed that one? He had been convinced that Rush never even noticed the gender of anyone around him, much less wanted to get them naked. Of all the men he might have thought would be a rival for her affections, the skinny, workaholic and renowned arsehole Dr Rush hadn't even registered.

"Ah," he said bleakly, and Belle giggled.

"Don't look like that. He's really very – different – outside class. Anyway, we sort of got together the other night." She looked him up and down, still chewing her lip, as though mulling something over. "I certainly wouldn't object to dating you, Mr Gold, but I really think I ought to see if he minds first." She put her head to the side. "Would you mind?"

Gold tried to steady the thoughts that were whirling through his head.

"And if I politely suggested that I didn't like sharing, and Dr Rush could go fuck himself?" he said mildly, and Belle shook her head, looking amused. She leant in close, her breath warm on his ear, making him shiver.

"I'd tell you not to be so greedy," she whispered.

"And yet you appear to want two of us," he pointed out, raising an eyebrow. She bit her lip adorably, eyes sparkling.

"If it's too weird, Mr Gold, you can always back off," she suggested, her tone teasing.

Gold sighed, tightening his knuckles on his cane.

"Very well," he said quietly. "If you can pull him away from that bloody whiteboard long enough to ask him, I'd be interested to hear his opinion on the matter."

She smiled at him, taking a step back before trotting off happily, and he watched her go, wondering what the hell he was letting himself in for.

Gold tapped his pen on the desk, frowning, as the events of three days earlier ran through his mind. He was due to see her in class that afternoon, and his stomach was doing backflips. He wondered when he'd suddenly started acting like a horny teenager, and whether he would be able to cope if she smiled at him. Or worse, blanked him completely and went back to being attentive, dedicated student. He wouldn't blame Rush for saying no, of course. After leaving Belle at the library he had briefly seen the man in the staff room, getting one of the dozen or so cups of coffee he seemed to get through during the day. Gold supposed the two of them looked somewhat alike, if you ignored the differing dress sense and the fact that Rush never seemed to shave. One of his students had even asked him, with a wide-eyed innocence that was spoiled by a cheeky grin, whether his father had ever played around in the rougher parts of Glasgow. He'd given her extra work for that little quip.

Rush had been scrawling in one of those little notebooks he carried everywhere, hair all over the place and muttering to himself. Gold had studied him over the rim of his cup, his features unshaven, eyes shadowed from lack of sleep, his body verging on gaunt, and had wondered idly what Belle saw in him, besides his intelligence. Perhaps the man would just back off and stay cooped up with his whiteboards and notebooks and endless equations. He'd probably be happier.

The following day had been somewhat different. Gold had been reading his newspaper and sipping his tea when Rush entered the staff room at eight fifteen. The two men had locked eyes for a moment, and Rush had given him a long look.

"Professor Gold," he said coldly, and Gold raised an eyebrow.

"Professor Rush," he returned, allowing himself a tiny, satisfied smile.

Rush turned away, busying himself with his coffee, and Gold watched him do it. The man was wearing his usual outfit of jeans and a shirt: blue today. Gold was convinced it was the same shirt that he'd been wearing the previous day. Rush leant against the wall, sipping his coffee, long fingers curling around the cup as he surveyed Gold with a flat, almost angry expression. He once more looked as though he hadn't slept, and Gold wouldn't have been surprised if he hadn't even left the university last night. He shook his head at Belle's strange choice in men, but then remembered that, of the two of them, Rush was the one who had tasted her delights. The thought made him scowl. Rush had smirked a little, as though he'd known what was going through his mind, and had left the room, coffee in hand. They hadn't spoken since then, and Rush's reaction to him had convinced Gold that he had not responded positively to Belle's request. Hardly unexpected.

Sighing, Gold turned back to his papers, wishing he had something to concentrate on other than the drivel that had been handed in by his students. His comments were becoming evermore bitingly sarcastic, and he made a mental note to take a break once he'd finished this essay. The idiot was going to fail anyway; a few more choice remarks wouldn't hurt, and may just give him the kick up the arse he needed to start doing the bloody work properly. A tap at the door barely registered as he scrawled a caustic comment in the margin of the latest sorry excuse for a submission.

"Come in," he said absently, and heard the door open and close. "I'll be with you in a moment."

"Well, lucky me." Belle's voice made him look up with a start. She was smiling at him, looking exceptionally beautiful with her hair cascading over her shoulders in dark, shiny curls, a bag of books over her shoulder. She took a step towards him, dressed in a tight-fitting navy blouse with a short, flared coral skirt and matching peep-toes. The colour gave the pale skin of her legs a warmer, creamier tone, and he tried not to think about running his hands up them.

"Miss French," he said formally, and Belle's smile widened.

"Professor Gold," she returned, equally formally.

"Is there something you wanted to see me about before class?" he asked, feeling a little breathless, and she shrugged, setting her bag of books on the floor.

"That depends," she said, straightening up and looking at him with her wide blue eyes. Eyes so deep he felt he could drown in them and count himself lucky. Fuck it all, man, you're getting poetic! Get a fucking grip!

He sat up, putting his pen down.

"Depends on what?" he asked quietly, and she shot him an amused look.

"On whether you're still interested in me, of course."

Gold hesitated. He was still interested, of course he was, but a part of him couldn't help feeling that this was all some sort of dream. Either that, or a student prank.

"We spoke of Dr Rush," he said, stalling for time, and Belle bit her lip, blushing slightly.

"We did. I had a talk with him, and gave him a day or two to think about it. He was – a little surprised, shall we say?"

"And what exactly did he say?" asked Gold, sitting back in his chair.

"I believe his exact words were…" Belle made her voice deeper, attempting Rush's accent and getting it almost right. '"I have no claim on you, Miss French. If you want to shag the miserable old bastard, don't let me stand in your way."'

Gold frowned. "Hardly a ringing endorsement," he observed, and she giggled.

"I think it's about as good as you'll get. You should take it. Just know that I'm still sleeping with him, and he's okay with us – well, we'll see what happens, hmm?" Her eyes gleamed with mischief, and he ached to touch her. He leant further back in his chair, holding her gaze, and tapped his pen on the pile of papers in front of him, mulling things over.

"What exactly is your relationship with Dr Rush?" he asked then, and Belle shrugged. She looked pretty doing it, the light catching a curl of her dark hair, her full lips pouting a little.

"I don't know yet," she said. "We've had two – encounters now. He's kind of intense. I like that." She had raised her eyes to the ceiling, looking a little wistful. It caused a stab of envy in his chest, a stinging, narrow lance of pain, and his mouth thinned.

"Really?" His voice was dry, and she gave him a very level, if amused, look.

"It sounds a lot to me like you're jealous, Mr Gold," she said teasingly. "There's really no need, you know. I'm sure the three of us can work things out between us."

"Hmm." He was far from sure, personally, but if it came to the crunch, and Rush made her choose…well, he had never been one to back down from a little competition. In fact, the prospect of going toe-to-toe with a colleague, so to speak, was exhilarating. It would be nice to beat the man who used 'Mister' like an insult when talking to him. Gold had always felt that Rush considered him an inferior teacher just because he hadn't gotten around to getting his own doctorate yet. He suspected one or two others in the faculty felt the same, but none were brave enough to raise the matter.

She stood there, still and silent, her hands clasped demurely in front of her, while he tapped his pen on the desk, pondering his response. It had been a long, long time since he had let his guard down enough to be with another person in that way, and that had ended very badly indeed. On the other hand, he couldn't stop thinking about her. Perhaps what he needed was to get her out of his system. If he got to irritate Rush into the bargain, so much the better.

"Very well, Miss French," he said at last, throwing down the red pen. "It appears you have an answer for everything."

She smiled in a slow, self-satisfied way, taking a deep inward breath as she did so, and let out a sigh of contentment. He wondered whether she would make the same sound when she came. A brief thought flickered through his head, a fleeting moment of self-doubt, as he wondered how Rush rated as a lover. He pushed the thoughts aside. Assuming she could tear the man away from his work for five minutes, he imagined that the most he'd be capable of was a quick fumble in the supply cupboard. He could certainly offer the lovely Miss French more than that.

Belle watched as Professor Gold pushed back his chair, unwinding himself from it and getting to his feet, his body moving sinuously. It made her want to lick her lips. From her very first day in class she had been fascinated by him; his likeness to Professor Rush was enough to attract her, but Gold had his own, very different qualities. She enjoyed his obvious intelligence, of course, but she also loved his sarcasm, the way he shot lazy students down with a cutting remark, never once raising his voice. She loved the way he was always dressed as though he was about to attend a high-powered business meeting, and how his hair moved as he talked, his long fingers gesturing to emphasise the points he was making. He had passed near her seat one day, and she had breathed him in, the scent of his cologne making her dizzy. Ruby had stuffed a hand in her mouth to keep from laughing at Belle's expression. Belle hadn't yet told her roommate about her encounter with Dr Rush; Ruby had been away for a few days, and she was looking forward to filling her in on these new developments. Along with whatever might happen this afternoon.

Gold walked slowly around the edge of the desk, approaching her, and Belle's breath caught in her throat as he moved to within inches of her. She could smell him again, his scent spreading around her, enveloping her, pulling her in towards him. She swayed slightly on her feet, a little light-headed, and he slipped a finger underneath her chin, gently raising her head a little to face him.

"Now what?" he asked quietly, and his voice seemed to rumble through her and go straight to her core. Belle let her lips part, her breath shuddering slightly in her chest. His eyes had gone very dark, boring into her, and she was suddenly unsure whether she knew what she was doing at all. It appeared that he needed far less convincing than Rush had.

"K-kiss me," she faltered, and he smiled, a wicked little grin that made his eyes gleam and crinkle at the corners. Gently, he let his fingers slide over her cheeks, his cool hands cupping her face. He took a step closer, so that they were almost touching, and she imagined that she could feel the heat from his body. It made her belly twist with need, a dull ache deep inside her.

"So beautiful," he whispered, and lowered his mouth to hers.

Belle moaned as their lips met, his tongue gently pushing until she allowed him entrance. His mouth was soft and warm, his lips smooth, and she let her hands slide up his back as he deepened the kiss, exploring her mouth, his fingers sliding into her hair and making her shiver. She pulled him close, feeling his heat at last, rubbing herself against the hard planes of his chest. He had a little more meat on him than Rush did, she reflected, but he was compact and firm. Delicious.

Gold gasped into her mouth as she pulled him against her. Her mouth was gentle and sweet, her body slender and lithe, her small breasts pushing against his chest. Her hair felt as soft as silk in his hands, and he twirled it around his fingers as he kissed her, rubbing the shiny curls with his thumbs. She was perfection: sweet, delicious perfection.

Pulling his mouth away, he began kissing down her neck, and Belle let out a throaty moan that made his cock twitch in his pants. He suckled at the white skin of her throat, his tongue swirling against her pulse point, and she dug her nails into his shoulders and pressed herself hard against him. Grinning to himself, he trailed his lips up her neck to her earlobe.

"How's that for an opening move, Miss French?" he whispered, and she pulled back from him, shaking a little.

"That was - perfectly acceptable," she said primly, but spoiled it by blushing and giggling. His grin widened, and he moved back to sit behind his desk. She followed him, sliding in front of him so that he was at eye level with her breasts. He was absolutely sure she had done it on purpose, and he kept his eyes on her face, a tiny smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Perhaps we could - arrange a meeting," she suggested, raising an eyebrow. "I've kind of been acting on impulse with all this, but something tells me that you're a man who likes to plan things."

Gold kept his expression neutral. He was, to be sure, but if that meant that she thought he couldn't be spontaneous like Rush…

"Carpe diem, my dear," he said quietly, and reached forward, putting his hands on her legs just above the knee. She wore no stockings, her pale legs wonderfully soft and smooth. He ran his palms up them slowly, pushing her skirt with them, and Belle sucked in a breath as his fingertips reached the edge of her panties. He could feel his own breath hardening, the rise and fall of his chest quickening as the skirt was pushed up to her waist and she was exposed to him. Her panties were white lace, the warm blush of her sex showing through, and he made a tiny noise in the base of his throat, almost a growl. Hesitantly, he leaned forward, and placed a gentle kiss to her mound, breathing her in. The scent of her arousal filled his head, and he knew that if he touched her he would find wetness, that sweet nectar that his tongue was craving.

He reached up with a thumb to stroke across her panties, pressing gently against the crevice in the middle. He could feel wetness, felt her juices bloom on the pad of his thumb, and Belle let out a tiny strangled noise. Slowly, ever so slowly, he slid his hands up to the waistband of her panties, and slipped his fingertips inside, drawing them down over her hips. He groaned as she was exposed to him, her skin smooth and dusky pink, the gleam of moisture escaping her folds. He let the panties fall to the floor, and she stepped out of them, giving herself more room to move. He lifted her skirt once more, tucking the edge of it into her waistband, and slowly ran his hands up her thighs until he reached her centre. Her breathing was ragged as he placed a gentle thumb on either side of her labia, softly pressing, parting her folds to expose the glistening pink pearl of her swollen clit. He leaned forwards, his heart thumping in his chest, and placed a tender kiss there, making Belle let out a tiny cry.

Releasing her from the pressure of his thumbs, Gold let his hands drop and slide up behind her, cupping her rear. He lifted her, pushing her upwards onto the desk, and Belle pushed herself up with the heels of her hands, leaning back so that she was exposed to him. Murmuring in satisfaction, he sat forward and lowered his mouth to her, the first sweep of his tongue causing her to moan and arch her back, her fingers gripping the edge of the desk. He began licking her slowly, loving the taste of her, her musk, her scent, her sweetness. She was utter perfection, everything he'd dreamed of during the long nights when she had haunted his dreams and driven him out of his mind.

Belle gasped for breath, moving against his mouth as he worked, and sank her fingers into his hair, something she'd wanted to do since the first time she had seen him. This wasn't quite what she'd had in mind when she approached Gold that afternoon; she had intended only to tell him that Rush was okay with them dating, and then see what he proposed. She had even been prepared to suggest a date herself, if he hadn't come up with anything. She had thought him to be a little old-fashioned, given his impeccable manners and dress sense, and she had presumed that she would be the one chasing him in this little game. Being spread out on her professor's desk with her skirt hiked up around her waist, while he enthusiastically ate her out, could definitely be considered one of the highlights of her week. Hell, it was one of the highlights of her year.

He had settled into a rhythm that she could feel was going to drive her wild within a fairly short space of time. His tongue was swirling around her clit, then flicking back and forth across it, sending jolts of electricity through her, making her brain want to explode. She could feel her climax building, the blood heating in her face and chest, her breath coming in pants. He slipped his hands behind her legs and hooked them up over his shoulders, which meant that she could close her thighs around the sides of his head and keep him exactly where she wanted him. He seemed to redouble his efforts at the feel of her, and she knew she wouldn't last. She felt his finger, pushing at her entrance, sliding right up inside her, deep as he could go, and it made her think of how much she wanted him, how she wanted him to bury himself within her and make her scream. How she wanted to feel him come inside her. His tongue swirled again, a second finger joining the first, and she rocked her pelvis against his mouth, increasing the friction, increasing the pace. She was so, so close that she…

Belle came, jerking up off the desk with a loud, moaning cry, and Gold felt her muscles clamp down on the fingers he had inside her, her inner thighs gripping the sides of his head. Hot fluid bathed his tongue, her sweet juices coating his lips, and he groaned in pleasure, his tongue moving in long, slow sweeps, slipping into every little crevice to catch the last fragrant drop of her bliss. She was still letting out tiny moans, her body jumping and twitching, and he felt a surge of satisfaction at being able to bring her to that state. It appeared that Dr Rush had some competition on his hands.

"Oh, God!" Belle gasped. "Oh, fuck, that was incredible!"

She released his hair, his scalp tingling pleasantly from where she had pulled at it, and pushed herself up on her elbows to look at him. Her eyes were heavy-lidded and sleepy, her lips full and red, her chest heaving. He longed to get her naked.

"What are you doing tonight, Miss French?" he asked quietly, and she smiled.

"Coming over to your place?" she suggested. He grinned briefly, sitting back, and untucked her skirt, smoothing it over her thighs.

"Well, at least let me buy you dinner first," he countered, and she nodded with a contented sigh, pushing herself upright and slipping off the desk.

She scrabbled on the floor for her panties, and he took a moment to straighten himself up, smoothing his shirt and making sure there were no questionable stains anywhere. He was covered in her, her fluids, her scent, all over his face and in his hair, and he was well aware that he needed to take care of that before he could walk into class. He also had a rather pressing problem in his pants, but he was hoping that would go away once she was out of the room. He stood up as she picked up her bag of books and smiled at him.

"I guess we have a date tonight, then," she said. "Seven-thirty at your place?"

"Seven-thirty." He kissed her, and she moaned slightly as his tongue parted her lips, his hands slipping down to cup her bottom, squeezing her. Finally she pulled back, pressing a quick kiss to the end of his nose.

"You should probably wash your face," she whispered. "You don't smell like you've been eating in the cafeteria, if you know what I'm saying."

Her smile was wicked, and he burst out laughing, stepping back from her to let her open his office door. The sight that greeted them made him frown.

Rush was leaning against the wall, arms folded and legs crossed at the ankle. Belle blushed as she saw him, and, after taking a quick look around to check that the corridor was empty, she tiptoed up to him and whispered something in his ear. Rush smirked, looking at Gold, who immediately bristled, insecurity suddenly rising within him. Belle put delicate fingers on Rush's cheek, turning his head to face her, and gave him a quick kiss, before smiling over her shoulder at Gold and bouncing off down the corridor. The two professors looked at one another for a moment.

"Rush," said Gold evenly, and the other man nodded.

"I was passing," he said abruptly. "As you'd left your office door unlocked, I figured you wouldn't want any of your freshmen barging in on you. Sent two of the little fuckers packing."

"Thank you." Gold's insides almost froze with horror at the thought of he and Belle being caught like that. He felt as though he should suddenly start being nicer to Rush. The other man pushed his glasses up his nose, lifting one shoulder and letting it fall.

"I see Belle got her way with you," he said, somewhat ruefully, and Gold felt a flash of triumph. Obviously that 'being nicer to Rush' thing was a work in progress.

"Indeed." He straightened the cuffs of his shirt ostentatiously. "I hope this isn't going to make things awkward for you."

Rush pushed himself away from the wall with a grimace. "No," he said shortly. "Just don't tell me what you're up to, and I can go back to pretending you don't exist."

"Likewise," said Gold, his voice cool.

"For however long it lasts," added Rush, and Gold scowled.

"A little presumptuous, aren't we? You must have caught the show, didn't you hear her?"

"I did," agreed Rush, and shot him a twisted little smile. "Once," he added, with a quirk of his eyebrows. "Only once. You might want to work on that, Mr Gold."

He winked, and set off down the corridor to his own office, whistling faintly. Gold scowled at his back. Oh yes, it was most def

A/N: I didn't intend to have Dr Rush in this fic, but he refused to stay in his own office. Of course, this leaves plenty of scope for he and Gold trying to outdo one another, with Belle the willing recipient of their efforts.

No one would mind if I wrote a second chapter to this, would they?