I don't own Once Upon A Time.

This fic will have smut.

That is all.


There she was.

It wasn't as though he hadn't known she would be coming along this path - she was a creature of habit. And he - he was a creature of another sort. He watched as her short stride, made to seem longer by her ridiculous heels - brought her closer to where he concealed himself. Pushing away from the wall, he emerged from the ally and onto the sidewalk, planning his own path to intersect with hers. As before.

She turned, walking towards the library as she always did. She stopped and smiled as she always did.

"Mr. Gold."

"Miss French." he nodded his head. Had he a hat he would have tipped it - but he never was much for hats.

"We really must stop meeting like this." her voice was teasing.

"Now, that would really be a shame, don't you think?"

She looked away, her eyes shy. "Yes. It would." She fidgeted slightly with her handbag before meeting his gaze again. "On your way to work as well?"

He inclined his head. "As always."

Mirth lit her eyes. "Always? Do you never get a day off? Your boss sounds like a monster."

"Oh, he's the worst sort, dearie." He bit the inside of his mouth to keep from grinning too widely. The wrong sort of smile could spoil everything.

At this she giggled outright, and he allowed himself a moment to soak up the sound. Something he'd said made her happy, and in that moment he felt pure. This was why he needed her. She didn't know it yet - but she was going to save him.

"Don't let me delay you." He moved sideways and gave a gentleman's gesture down the sidewalk "I'm sure your boss would be equally displeased if you were to be late."

"Oh. Yes. She's quite an ogre."

"Only much more attractive."

She blushed. "I'll... tell her you said so. I'm sure she'll be flattered."

He smiled, and nodded as he turned away. "Good day, Miss French."

"Good day, Mr. Gold."


As before.

"Mr. Gold." She smiled.

"Miss French."

"You can call me Belle if you like. I don't mind."

"Are you sure you're ready for that level of intimacy between us?"

She was taken aback at that it seemed - and it took her a moment to form a reply. "Intimacy? It's just more of a friendly address. Miss French seems so formal and... we're ... friends, yes?"

He smiled ruefully. "I'm afraid habits die hard, and I'm a throwback for the past at that. Formalities are hard to let go of. Did you know in many countries only those very close to a person and family are allowed to address others by their first name?"

"I did know that, Mr. Gold. - but we aren't in any of those countries, now are we?" her voice was teasing.

"Perhaps not, but I still believe names have importance."

"Of course." She nodded politely. "Well then, Good day, Mr. Gold."

He smiled, and turned away. "Good day - Belle."


As before.

"Mr. Gold" The greeting was hesitant this time.

"Belle."

"Lovely weather we're having." It was raining, but they'd both walked just the same. She stood with the tip of her umbrella touching his, forming a bridge.

"It's good Scottish weather."

"You must feel right at home, then." She grinned, relaxing. Her smile made him feel at home.

"I do."

"How often is the weather like this in Scotland?"

"Only half the time. The other half, it's raining." She laughed outright at that, and he felt as though the sun had come out.

"Well, I think it's the perfect weather to sit by a window with a cup of tea. Would you... like to join me for one?"

He hesitated. "Are you sure your boss would agree with you coming in late to have a cup of tea with the town monster?"

She held out her arm to his and he took it. "I think so - you own the library, after all. Also, I happen to know that my boss has taken a fancy to you."

"Indeed?" he steered their steps towards the nearby coffee shop, their umbrellas overlapping. "Well perhaps I'll come by and try to convince her personally into relaxing her attendance policy."

She bit her lip to try and repress her grin - he wanted to do it for her. "I would be grateful if you would."

"Consider it done."


The first time.

She was standing at the desk as Mr. Gold strode in, his cane almost seeming as though it were an escort and not actually a needed aide. Belle looked up at him.

"I'm here to see Belle's manager."

Her eyes flashed in confusion for a moment, not sure of the game he was playing - but she caught on quickly and realization replaced the expression.

"I'm Miss French, and I'm the manager here. Was there something you needed?" She raised an eyebrow, a forced haughtiness masking her amusement. She had joined the game.

"I wanted to speak with you regarding her schedule, if you can spare a moment."

She emerged from behind the desk and walked towards a small office off to the side near the entrance, gesturing for him to follow. Once inside, she closed the door behind them. It was the first time the two of them had been completely alone. He wondered if he was the only one to take note of the fact.

Turning to face him, her mask fell into one of sternness. "I'm afraid it's company policy to not release the schedules of employees to anyone but family. For their safety, you understand."

"I'm not here for her schedule, dearie." He already knew it as well as he did his own. "I wanted to speak with you about perhaps being lenient about what time she came to work in the mornings."

She frowned. "The library opens at the same time every day. People would be waiting." she shook her head "That can't be delayed."

"I own this building, Miss French. If I were to raise the rent or decide I no longer wanted it open - those people would be waiting much longer."

Narrowing her eyes, he could see her thinking, trying to see through his ingenuous threat. "Mr. Gold - if you were to close the library, Belle would be out of a job as well. I don't think that is your aim."

He chuckled. "Indeed not. However, my request stands - is there anything I can do to convince you to open a bit later?" he took a step towards her, and she looked suddenly unsure. She was lost in their game, but he would help her. "Belle confided that you may have taken a bit of a fancy to me." he lowered his voice as he spoke. "Is there nothing I can do to persuade you to be a bit more... relaxed?"

She had backed up against the desk in the office, and he found himself leaning over her slightly, his voice a whisper between them.

"That would be..." she swallowed "extremely unethical, I think."

"Why?" he moved to whisper into her ear. "I get what I want. You get what you want. Belle isn't being hurt at all. Why fight this?" And with that he bit down on her ear softly as his arms wrapped around her, pressing their bodies together. Moaning, she returned the embrace, arching into him. He growled, drawing his mouth away from her ear as the contact between them had him clenching his teeth. More, though. He needed more. He returned his mouth to her neck, and moved his hands to pull her hips firmly against his. This. This was as close to heaven as he would be on this earth. Which was to say, probably the closest he would ever be to heaven ever.

" ..." she panted as his hands moved over her. "Mr. Gold..." then her voice took a firmer tone and she leaned away from him. Reluctantly, he let her do so. She moved to face him. "Why do you want me to let Belle come in to work late?"

"Because I like having tea with her." His smile was grim, more truth revealed in that small statement than anything else up to this point.

She simply stared at him for a moment, happiness waring with incredulity.

"Why don't you.. just ask her to meet you for tea earlier?" she asked, the question emerging hesitantly.

"Do you think she would be agreeable to that?" he pushed a lock of hair behind her ear.

"I...I think so. I would, if I were her." she swallowed, giving an uneven smile.

"Hmm. Thank you then, Miss French - you have been extremely helpful." He leaned into her once again, this time kissing her fully on the mouth, burying his hand in her hair for one moment... and another... then pulled away.

Straightening his suit jacket, he gave a nod as Belle still panted, leaning against the desk - looking so delightfully disheveled.

"Good day, Miss French."

He left, closing the door behind him.


They met on the street, once again, only Belle was twenty minutes earlier than usual. Mr. Gold watched as she slowed her pace as she approached their "spot", looking around nervously. He pushed away from the wall and stepped into the open, walking towards her.

"Belle - how delightful to see you this morning. I was saddened at the thought I may miss you when I decided to leave earlier than usual."

She bit down on her lip, her demeanor nervous and charming. "I just had a feeling I ought to come sooner - it was as if someone told me to."

"Hmm." He smiled thinly, his tongue darting out to wet his lips which had suddenly gone quite dry. "Well, since you are here - perhaps I can convince you to take a cup of tea with me before you go?"

Her smile softened, becoming slightly less nervous.

"I believe you could, Mr. Gold."

His lips quirked up in a half-smile, and he held his arm out to her. She slipped her hand through and he steered them both towards the nearby diner.

"Perhaps we could make a daily ritual of it?" he inquired delicately, not looking at her.

"I'd like that."


They met every day in the diner, and he always waited for her within - no longer relegated to lurking by the wall outside to pretend a chance encounter. It was nice, he decided. Though he bristled when another patron would give them an odd look, he also relished the fact that he was publicly laying claim to her, however small it might be.

They were drinking companions. They were... friends. More or less.

"So I suppose this means your boss has finally decided to relax her policy on punctuality."

Belle's eyes widened as she looked down at her watch. It was past time for her to of left for work, but on this day he'd decided not to point out the fact immediately. It was getting harder and harder to let her go.

"Oh shit." she muttered, gathering up her things. "I'm going to be late."

"Just tell your boss you were with me - I happen to know she likes me."

Belle kept her eyes focused on adjusting the strap of her purse, her face flushed, trying to decide how to reply to him. He loved her uncertainty.

"I don't think simply liking you is enough to make her forgive me keeping all our readers waiting on the street." She stood tall, fixing him with a mock glare. He simply grinned and leaned back into his chair.

"Then I suppose I'll have to try harder."

She blushed again, and without reply hurried out the door, her tall heels only slightly impeding as she made her way quickly in the direction of the library.

Yes, there was a lot he loved about Miss Belle French.


"Miss French."

She stopped, her eyes wide as she clutched a pile of paperwork in her hands that she'd been working with at the front counter.

"M-Mr. Gold." Her stuttering voice was colored with shock. "I, um... wasn't expecting you."

"Well, this is a public building is it not? I assume I'm welcome."

"Oh, of course, I just..." she squeezed her eyes together for a moment, and purposefully set her stack of papers down. She took a steadying breath and he watched with a certain fascination as she attempted to slip into the alternative role she'd come to assume. "What can I help you with?"

"I simply wanted to apologize for any inconvenience caused this morning by the lateness of your employee. She was with me, I'm afraid; so I take full responsibility."

She hesitated slightly, hands smoothing over the counter for a moment before she replied.

"That's very generous of you, Mr. Gold, but my employees are responsible for being here on time, regardless of circumstance. I can't make excuses for them simply because you ask charmingly."

"You think I'm charming? Why, Miss French, I'm flattered." She blushed and looked away. She was out of her depth - which was fine. He wanted her to drown in him. "Let me at least try to explain. In your office?" he raised an eyebrow. He could imagine every thought she must be having at the moment. Last time they'd stepped into her office things had gotten rather heated. But maybe they wouldn't this time, or...

"For just a minute." she conceded,picking up the papers she'd set down earlier as he followed her to her office. He closed the door behind them as she took a step into the room to place her burden on the desk.

"Mr. Go..." she began to turn around but he was there too quickly, pressing himself against her back. Holding her in place. He leaned forward and pressed his lips against her neck, touching the tip of his tongue to her skin as he trailed kisses from her ear to her collarbone.

"Mr. Gold." she panted, arching into him slightly. He growled and pulled her harder against him. "Is this your way of..." she swallowed "making things up to me?"

"Just wait." he whispered against her neck, as his hand bunched in the material of her skirt, pulling it upward. She tensed against him, but didn't protest as he slipped his hand beneath her skirt and slid his fingers into the waistband of her underwear. Then, as if she had reached a some breaking point, she began to struggle against him.

"I'm sorry, I can't..."

"Belle." he whispered it into her ear, and she went still. "It's alright - it's me. It's ok to let go." he laid his palm flat against her mound, experimentally sliding two fingers around her clit, causing her to gasp. "It's alright to let this happen - if you want it."

He tensed awaiting her response - but then the woman in his arms relaxed imperceptibly. Letting out a breath of relief, he tightened his arm around her hip, bracing his other arm against the desk as he pinned her there. Gold allowed his fingers to explore her, and she melted into his embrace. Her head would fall forward and he would arch into her, then as she arched back he would take advantage of the expanse of her exposed neck - keeping both his fingers and lips moving against her.

Soon she began to grind harder against his hand, and the pressure of her behind against his own erection had him clenching his teeth. He wanted to bury those teeth in her skin. Make her his.

No. That could wait. Instead, he obliged her desire by inserting a finger into her entrance. She cried out, and he waited a moment to insert another. She was so very tight, it must have been a long time since she'd been with anyone. She began taking the lead, however, and suddenly they were both moving quickly, her hips thrusting down against his digits as they pressed forward to meet her. It only took a few moments before he could feel her orgasm, both in how her walls clenched his hand, and her body tensed against his.

"Gold... " she groaned in a soft whisper, even in this moment conscious of their surroundings. Or perhaps she was simply quiet in her passion. He wondered what it would take to make her scream.

Slumping against him, her tremors past, he withdrew his hand from under her skirt. It was tempting to lick the juice from his fingertips, but he refrained - taking a tissue from the desk instead to clean himself with. He hadn't earned the right to taste her yet.

She had turned around, breathless, sitting on the edge of the desk and studying him with expression that was part sated, part fearful. She didn't know where she stood with him, and for a moment they had stopped pretending.

"I hope that makes up for things." he brushed a finger against her cheek, and she closed her eyes briefly.

"Yes." she sighed, but after a moment stood abruptly and turned away from him. Gold frowned. "I need to get back onto the floor, Mr. Gold. I'm sure you understand."

"Of course." He refrained from offering to help her onto the floor, certain the innuendo would not be well received at this moment. "Let me know if your employee misbehaves further. I do feel personally responsible for her actions."

"Of course." she smiled at him, but it did not reach her eyes. For lack of anything else to say, Mr. Gold let himself out. He adjusted his suit, preparing for the painfully uncomfortable walk home. Thank god for long jackets. The walk allowed him to think about the interaction at the library and by the time he'd made his way to his own shop Gold was cursing himself for a fool. He'd had his hands all over Miss French in her very own library, then just left leaving her feeling no doubt used. Perhaps it had been a mistake to push her so quickly.

Taking his car back to the library, he was surprised to find it had closed early.

So the next morning he waited for Belle at their usual table in the coffee shop.

She never came.