Author's Note:
Hello, readers! I'm Hannah, and this is my very first EVER fanfiction! I was inspired by 'Skin Deep', and I just had to chase my wild dreams of my Rumpel/Belle obsession.. I will go down with this ship! xD But, yeah; all reviews, critiques, WHATEVER are appreciated! According to how interested people are will determine whether or not I continue, just because.. well, I'm a noob, and you know how these things work. xD

Anyhow, enjoy the very short, first read! :3

Skeptically, Emma Swan unlocked the creaking door, rust crunching against pebbly concrete.

"You're free to go, Mr. Gold." Her voice drew out suspiciously, her narrowed glance heatedly set upon the free man.

Mr. Gold nodded with an irritatingly chivalrous smile, and his weight levied onto his polished cane as he strongly hobbled out from the temporary hold. Something foreign glinted behind his eyes, though it went unnoticed by the concerned sheriff; she was too harried over why the mayor would pay off his bail.

"Well, thank you for making our time spent together a pleasant one. You did well." He complimented edgily, the same breath of a lie shrouding his words. "I hope to see you again soon. Perhaps next time, you'll be able to fulfill that favor for me."

Emma, perturbed, watched Mr. Gold carry himself out of her homely little station, the familiar scowl dressing her expression. Something didn't sit right with her about him.

Mr. Gold sighed. Winter and Spring had begun a long line of scuffles, a glimmer of warmth poking out from behind the snowy front, yet the sun misleading the true weather; though it held itself strongly in the sky, shedding a charitable, welcoming light upon all, an unforgiving cold hissed through every chilly breeze, distorting the beautiful picture. He didn't care; it was a small price to pay for leaving that cell so soon. Perhaps if Regina didn't know his dirty little secret he'd send her a fruit basket.

Reminiscent, he delved his free hand into his deep pocket, his spindly fingers fondly brushing against the small piece of porcelain hidden within. When his rough fingertips coasted along the jagged tip, just as fresh as the first day it'd been placed, he poured all of his willpower into biting back a frown.

Belle. Thinking about Belle was strange, like a fevered dream. In Storybrooke, he was what she'd so desperately wanted him to become —a man, and of sound man. His free, disturbing nature was locked away and put on hold, stowed away with all the other purities of Happily Ever After. Some days, he pondered—what did he like better, his days as Rumpelstiltskin, a beast of power and temptation, or Mr. Gold, a demanding, well-established man? When he was riveted by the simple motions of Storybrooke, the answer was simple; he loved being Mr. Gold. After all, he wasn't one to dwell on what was lost, and here, things were so much more corrupt, and it was much easier to blend into the woodwork as yet another broken human.

Oddly enough, though, Belle always popped into his head; Belle always popped into his head, with her charming, girlish smile, and made his views melt away. When he thought of her and the way her buxom brown curls flowed, though, the beast within him rattled in its cage—thirsty, hungry, and lusting to return to the world of old. Even if it meant transitioning into the very thing Belle had tried to save him from (which, in his dulled state of might he could understand), it also meant returning to a time when she had existed. Here, she was just the legends of a little boy named Henry.

He shook his head. Frustrated, he withdrew his hand and carried his ambling gait back to his shop. Either way, he was a man of symbol; a manipulator of dastardly magic, and a man of influence and cash. With his barriers thrown up, he reverted to his traditional mode of thinking; he hadn't really wanted him. He'd been a beast; she must have had some ulterior motive behind that kiss.

That kiss. That beautiful, sweet, treasured moment…

No. That was a moment of his weakness and of her strength. There was nothing between them except lies… but even this thought couldn't fight back the pain as he thought of her untimely end. Dreaming about what exactly went through her head made him internally shiver, and then harden. He had bigger things to attend to.