Hidden behind a large tree, Rumpelstiltskin smiled a bitter smile at the crystal ball when he saw that his plan had worked. Emma had killed Cruella and was definitely turning dark. He did not need to see what would happen once the Charmings told Emma that she had killed someone whose ability to kill had been taken away by the author, that Cruella had been bluffing all along.

Rumple grimaced as he felt a stabbing pain in his chest. He felt tired and really needed a rest but he also knew that now that Henry was safe, Regina would very soon leave for Storybrooke - with Belle's heart. He shook with rage and despair as he recalled what had happened at the well. He took a deep breath and with a flick of his hand he was back at his cabin. The author was still tied to the armchair he had left him in and there was no sign of Maleficent. 'Good', Rumple thought to himself: at least he had time to go and see that Belle was OK. As OK as she could be. Not having a heart beating in one's chest can do funny things to you.

Only a few seconds later, Rumple materialized outside his shop and quickly stepped back into the shadow of the building on the other side of the street from where he had a good view through the window. He breathed a sigh of relief. The lights were on and he could see Belle standing behind the counter, polishing what looked like an ancient sword.

The night he had returned to Storybrooke, after they had resurrected Maleficent, he had left the three Queens of Darkness to catch up and had stealthily magicked himself into his, into their house. A stale smell had welcomed him - a single apple had rolled behind the now empty fruit plate and had rotted into a big heap of mould. Nobody was in the house - had been in weeks, it looked like: the fridge was empty and their bedroom was exactly as Belle and he had left it six weeks earlier, her night gown tossed onto a chair and the water glasses still on the night stands. She had not been back after banishing him, it looked like, not even to get clothes and other necessary items.

So Rumple had assumed that his shop would be closed, too, because Belle clearly did not want to have any more to do with him or with his possessions. He had been very surprised to see that she had indeed kept it open and that - from what he could gather - she had collected rent from all his tenants around town. But after impersonating Hook, Rumple had vouched to avoid the shop until… until the author had done what Rumple wanted him to do. He was not too sure what he would do if he saw Belle there with that scoundrel Scarlett, inside his own shop! But now, he didn't have a choice. Scarlett or not, he needed to see that Belle was OK.

And she was alone, at least. Good! Rumple stood there and watched her go about her business - polishing, reordering, answering the phone - for thirty minutes. Belle would have seemed her old self to anyone walking into the shop right now, smiling as she picked up the phone and probably humming to herself as she restacked some books (he could see her pursed lips through the window and he couldn't help but smile). All the while, though, he couldn't help but think back to what had happened at the well.

Having held more than one ripped-out heart in his hands in his heyday, he knew that you did not have access to the memories of the unfortunate soul whose heart you had control over. So when Belle had mentioned their vows and the chipped cup, she had most probably been following Regina's orders to make him own up to what he was really doing in Storybrooke by any means possible. While Regina was clearly in charge of the latter part of the conversation, Rumple couldn't help but wonder when she had taken over talking to him directly through Belle. Did Belle really understand his reasons for coming back? Did she really regret having banished him? When they had kissed it had felt like old times but perhaps he was just fooling himself. Perhaps Regina had been in complete control all the time and had forced Belle to tell her about the vows and the chipped cup so that he'd be tricked into being honest and baring his innermost feelings.

Rumple sighed in frustration. There was no way to find out until Belle got her heart back - only then would he know the truth. And it all depended on how things went in New York between Regina and Zelena. What if Zelena managed to get hold of Belle's heart? Panic started to rise in Rumple - he hated being cornered like this, unable to protect his beloved Belle - and he was relieved to see that someone pulled up in a car outside the shop. But his relief instantly turned into anger when he saw who it was. That wife-stealing idiot of a thief!

Rumple couldn't help but use his magic to listen in on what was happening inside the shop. Belle turned around as she heard the bell.

'Oh, you!' she said when she saw Will in a flat tone of voice.

'Hello, Belle dear! Tried to call you earlier on, about three hours ago. Why didn't you pick up or call me back?' Will said, mustering the brunette who absent-mindedly kept stroking the book on the counter in front of her.

'Oh! Sorry, I didn't check my phone', she answered after a long pause.

'Are you OK, love?' Will enquired. At the word 'love', Rumple inhaled sharply and had to keep his hands from shooting up and blasting the impertinent thief to smithereens.

'Yeah, I guess', Belle murmured, a puzzled look on her face. She seemed to be uncomfortable in Will's presence, all of a sudden - or was Rumple just wishing it to be so?

'Still up for dinner at Granny's?', Will asked.

'I think I better cancel, Will', said Belle.

'Why?', asked Will, obviously surprised.

'I don't know. I feel a bit strange. I'm off, somehow. And…' Belle paused. 'I don't know. Don't take it personally, but you being here makes it worse.' Her hands shot up to her head all of a sudden and she groaned as if in pain.

And then Rumple saw something unexpected through the window.

It took him a few seconds to react but as soon as he had made sure that it was not just wishful thinking, a figment of his imagination, he waved his hand at the shop and then - making sure nobody saw him - quickly stepped through the door.

He had frozen time hundreds, thousands of times before but he had only ever done it twice to Belle. He hated doing it to her. But it had been necessary both times, on their honeymoon and now.

He had been right. Above her head there it was: the tiniest shimmer of red sparkles. The residue of magic. Of a spell.

A love spell. 'Once you have your heart ripped out', Rumple said to Belle although she could not hear him, 'the love spell has no place where to reside any longer and therefore tries to flee the body'.

Rumple turned away from Belle towards Will. 'Let's see now', he mumbled as he waved his hands at the frozen thief. And in no time the same red sparkles appeared above Will Scarlet's head.

As Rumple rummaged around under the counter for a glass phial and captured some of the residue floating above Belle's head in order to analyze it later, to make sure he could make the exact antidote, an inner voice kept shouting out his happiness: Belle and Will being together was the result of a spell - a potent spell by the looks of it. He would find out who had put the spell on them, and they would pay. But thoughts of revenge were not as sweet as the realization that Belle had not just got over him in the space of a few short weeks or simply decided she needed to rebound with the first guy who came along.

She may very well still love him. There may be hope for the two of them after all.