The weather report for the Eastern Coast of Maine was calling for the worst snowstorm in years. Belle was at her desk in the public library, looking at the heavy gray clouds gathering in the sky, when she heard the bell signifying a new arrival. She smiled when she saw Rumplestiltskin walking toward her. He tried to appear as calm and aloof as always, yet his brown eyes began to gleam when he saw Belle. "What brings you here, darling?" She slid her arms around his waist and buried her face in his neck, and he kissed the top of her head.
"There's supposedly a big snowstorm coming," he told her. "I don't want you here in your little apartment all by yourself. Come stay at my place for a few days. Just to ease my mind," he added hastily as she opened her mouth to object. "It could be fun, sweetheart." He gave her his most winning smile. Drat that irritating, irresistible charm of his, Belle thought. Oh, what the hell! "Okay, why not," she laughed.
"Great! I'm going to get some supplies. You go pack a bag, and I'll be back to pick you up in about an hour."
"I'll be here ready to go!" With that, they each waved goodbye and set off.
Rumplestiltskin drove to the market. He made sure he had plenty of fresh batteries for flashlights, candles, and oil for gas lamps, so Belle would have light to read by if the power went out. Then he stocked up on bread, sandwich makings, cereal and milk, in case they couldn't cook. Thank goodness he had gas heaters and not electric, he thought, as well as a big fireplace, which could come in quite handy. He smiled to himself as he drove back to the library to pick up Belle. He didn't particularly like wet, slushy weather, but as he'd told Belle, this could be fun!
Sure enough, not long after they had arrived home, gotten unpacked and settled in, the snow started falling. In no time, Storybrooke was covered in a white blanket, and the streetlights gave the scene a glow that was haunting and eerie but also lovely. "Rum, come look at this," Belle called him over to the big picture window to look out at the snow. Rumplestiltskin stood behind Belle with his arms around her waist and leaned his head onto hers. They stood, mesmerized by the sight for a long time. "Beautiful, isn't it," Belle whispered as she leaned her body back into his. "Mmhmmm," Rumplestiltskin said, "It almost makes it seem like we're cut off from the rest of the world."
"I'm glad you asked me to stay here, Rum. I like being able to share things like this with you."
"I want to share every moment I can with you, Belle. You know that." He replied, rubbing his cheek into her hair. She turned around and took his head in her hands, bringing his head down to kiss his forehead. "Yes I know. Right now, I'm hungry."
"Of course. I'll whip up something right away. It may be my last chance to cook if the power goes out."
In the kitchen, the pair chatted lightly as Belle made a tossed salad and put some garlic bread in the oven, while Rumplestiltskin cooked some angel hair pasta, threw in some leftover chicken and veggies, and stirred in some cream and butter. "Viola, chicken Alfredo," he said as scooped the pasta onto two plates. Belle shook her head at him. "You just make that seem so effortless, the way you can just throw stuff like that together."
"But it is effortless, dearie, with a little practice." He raised an eyebrow and gave her meaningful look. Belle was a woman blessed with many fine qualities, but culinary skills were not among them, and she was not interested enough to learn, even though Rumplestiltskin had offered to teach her a few basic dishes. She stuck out her tongue at him. "You stand there and watch water boil. That's why we have frozen dinners, microwaves, and takeout. Cooking bores me to tears." They laughed and sat down at the table, and she poured them some iced tea. There was a lull in the conversation as they ate their dinner. After they had put the dishes in the dishwasher, they went into the living room to relax on the sofa. Belle rummaged through Rumplestiltskin's big collection of CDs, and put one in. She snuggled next to him with her book as the first strains of Debussy's 'Claire De Lune' began to play. Rumplestiltskin smiled. That piece was a favorite of both of theirs. As they sat side by side, both with their own books, he found himself taking sidelong glances at Belle, trying to not let her see. He still couldn't believe how lucky he was. With all the awful things he had done in his life, what had he done to deserve her!? He'd probably never know, but did it really matter? For whatever reason, she was his. When you are given a gift, don't bother asking why it was given, he told himself. He shook his head and turned back to his book.
After a couple hours, the combination of classical music and reading had lulled them both into sleepiness. They went upstairs and took turns brushing their teeth and putting on their nightclothes. They snuggled into bed, and Rumplestiltskin gathered her close, stroking her hair as they drifted happily to sleep.
Rumplestiltskin woke up the next morning, and was a little disoriented for a few seconds. The light coming through the window looked odd, and who was in bed with him? The fog quickly dissipated from his sleepy brain and he remembered the snow and Belle. As carefully as he could, he got out of bed and went downstairs and started the coffee. When it was ready, he poured some for both of them and struggled back up the stairs, not an easy task while holding two mugs in one hand and his cane in the other. He was pleased with himself when he managed to do it without spilling any. Belle was in the bathroom when he came upstairs, and when she saw him she gave a sleepy eyed smile. "Good morning, sweetheart," she said as she slipped back under the blankets beside him. "It is a very good morning," he replied as he handed her one of the cups, kissing her neck as he did. They drank their coffee slowly, neither one in a hurry to get up, since they had nowhere to go. Setting her cup on the nightstand, Belle stretched and said, " Well, what should we do all day?" The sight of her, stretched out in his bed, wearing nothing but a nightie, was too much for Rumplestiltskin. "I know what I'd like to do first," he said, and started sliding a hand up her thigh, making her squeal and laugh. "I might have guessed you would get around to that sooner or later," she giggled, obviously not minding at all. As his hand continued to move upward, she drew him nearer and pulled his pajama top over his head, tossing it aside. She lay back pulling him with her and his hands slid under her nightgown. The morning ticked by and they stayed in bed and made love for hours. It was lunchtime when they finally came to their senses again, by which time they were starving. They went downstairs and made sandwiches, and ate them sitting by the picture window watching the snow pile up outside. They spent the lazy afternoon snuggling in front of the roaring fire, reading or talking, sneaking in several interludes of spontaneous lovemaking here and there. As the evening fell, they lay huddled under quilts, Belle's head on Rumplestiltskin's chest. They both hoped they would be snowed in for at least a couple days.