Disclaimer: Don't own anyone, and if I did… Well the show wouldn't be as good as it is.

As Storybrooke started to metaphorically rub its eyes and gaze around sleepily, after twenty-eight years of cursed slumber, Regina Mills did the practical errand of going to Mr. Gold's Pawnshop. After tying her up, gagging her, and stealing the egg from Emma at the potential cost of her son, she reasoned he owed her.

The bell tinkled as she entered, and she paused. Something was off about the familiar store. There was too much light. She turned to the windows and noticed the blinds were pulled completely up instead of simply just open. It didn't suit the shop. She called out for him.

"Mr. Gold, Rumplestiltskin, whatever the hell you're calling yourself, negotiations are now in order. And before you tell me you aren't interested, I think I have some news to change your mind."

"Rumplestiltskin's not available right now," A lilting female voice answered, causing Regina to jump. The girl at the counter turned a page in her book, "He's only taking on a limited clientele at this time."

Oh shit. Ohshitohshitohshit.

Regina took in the girl from behind the counter, perched on a stool with her legs crossed. She was wearing a light blue summer dress, and her brown curls were pulled back. An old hardcover rested in her hands, the spine declaring it to be "Pride and Prejudice". Blue innocent eyes flicked up and met Regina's, recognition slowly dawning in them.

"Forgive me, Your Majesty," she said as she hastily slid a bookmark in and closed the novel, "I didn't realize it was you."

How? How how how had this happened? Few knew about the hospital's basement outside of the staff, her cell had been unmarked, she had bribed the nurses well… And now her trump card was watching her with a smile, something mischievous in her eyes. Regina struggled for words, mouth moving unintelligibly. What was she supposed to say? "I'm sorry I tortured you in a dungeon until we came here, then locked you up for twenty-eight years in a single room with little human contact so people thought you were crazy. You know how competitive we practitioners of magic get."

Belle set her book down on the counter and uncrossed her legs.

"I'm afraid Rumplestiltskin is busy making plans; business will be booming once the magic starts to fly," she hopped off the stool and smoothed her dress down, "I'm sure he could squeeze you in, though. He's been wanting to talk to you…"

She wanted to wipe the smirk right off of that little wench's face.

"No, that's alright," she said icily, sizing her up, "It seems as though my reason for coming is…void."

"Can I interest you in something else, then?" She asked, "We have some lovely antique mirrors…" Regina didn't appreciate being toyed with, and she wouldn't tolerate it from some little girl.

Belle beamed at her, playing the role of a salesgirl perfectly.

"No thank you. I see he already has what I was offering…"

"That's too bad," she pouted, lip jutting out comically, "I'm hoping to make a good impression on the boss. Last time I left his employ and tried to move back home," she wrinkled her nose, "It didn't turn out well."

"I see."

"Apparently someone had told the entire village that the "beast" I was living with had infected me, cursed me down to my soul and created a corrupted minion to help with his bidding," she frowned, "My poor father had no choice but to have me locked up…or risk his people losing their souls as well."

Belle rounded the desk, all pretenses of sweet naivety gone. Regina stood her ground, reminding herself that the child was powerless, that she could hurt her about as much as an unarmed man could hurt a dragon.

"My own father didn't believe me when I begged him that I was still his little beauty," Belle snarled, "Apparently they had been warned that no matter how sane I acted, I had still lost my mind. That was my curse in this world, to be the only stable one in a ward of mentals."

Belle stopped her advances about a foot from Regina. Regina tried to hold the girl's gaze, but failed.

"I remember," she growled, "I remember everything you've done to me. And I will make sure you pay for my suffering, for the Huntsman's suffering, and for every other poor soul who has ever crossed your path."

She couldn't do anything, Regina reminded herself. The girl was incapable of magic, and probably knew nothing of how to fight. Then why did Regina's muscles tell her to flee? Belle shook her head.

"He was right about you…if I had only listened…"

There was a beat of silence, then the screech of an old chair from the back room.

"Who are you talking to, dearie?" A voice called out.

Regina met Belle's eyes. The fire was burning itself out, but even more dangerous was the smirk that was returning to her lips. Regina gave a small shake of her head, warning her with a scowl.

"Oh, no one," Belle chirped, rocking up onto the balls of her feet. For a moment, Regina felt the ice of relief, "Just Her Majesty."

The ice hit her stomach, and now Regina really did want to run. Belle had only the same power as Esther or Cleopatra or Lady Macbeth on her side to use as a weapon; the favor of a powerful man.

A/N: So it's beeeeen… two months since the finale? And all during that time I've thought about the implications of it (especially anything to do with Rumbelle, love dat Rumbelle). What's burning me and countless other fans up is Mr. Gold finding out Belle's alive and Regina being responsible for locking her up. I don't know how they'll do it in the show, so I just wrote this up real quick about one possible situation. Belle could totally face Regina down, even without magic.