My Rumbelle Secret Santa gift for darling Offbeat. Her prompt was "Everyone comes for Christmas".


"Come, sweetheart."

"Mmm?" Belle hummed as her husband guided her into their bedroom, warm hands on her hips applying gentle pressure. Once inside, Gold swiftly closed the door behind them, the expression on his face in soft candlelight every inch that of the mischievous inhabitant of the Dark Castle.

"Are you trying to unwrap your present earlier, Mr. Gold?" Belle chided playfully, smiling and tilting her head to lock her eyes with his. He backfired with a hand to his chest and a grossly overdone offended look on his face.

"On the contrary, my darling Mrs. Gold," he grinned, "I plan on wrapping my present." Taking one waltz step towards her, he added, ponderingly: "I find it quite an appropriate activity at Christmas Eve." Belle had only a mere second to frown before her expression turned to one of surprise, as clever hands spun her about her heels and deftly placed a silk ribbon over her eyes, tying it gently at the back of her head, mindful of any rebel curl.

Her husband's voice, now an octave lower, whispered from somewhere near her right ear. "We wouldn't want you catching a glimpse of Santa coming down our chimney, would we, love? It's said to cause bad luck in this world." Belle had no need to see his face to recognize the wide, self-satisfied grin currently adorning it.

"Is it?" She shook her head, smiling. "But the chimney, and Christmas tree for that matter, are downstairs, husband. And I do believe it's the Grinch that Dr. Seuss warns us to be wary of, not dear old Santa." She could practically hear her husband pull a face at the mention of the jolly man.

"Mmm… Grinch," he considered. "Ah, yes. I seem to vaguely recall him. Green, scaly skin… quirky fellow… and quite dashing", Gold chuckled. "Is he your man?" He practically purred the last words into her ear, making Belle extremely aware of how weak her knees were becoming all of a sudden. And then there were his lips, barely scraping her neck, and, although Belle adored hearing him speak, she could so very easily come up with other activities, just as enticing, to keep his mouth fully occupied.

Instinctively, she shifted closer to him, but it seemed that her husband had other plans in mind, because for what felt like an eternity, he made no move, spoke no word. Even with the soft silk around her eyes and her heart drumming in her ears, Belle still had enough senses left to feel his intent gaze upon her, and she let out a shaky breath at his invisible caress.

Agonizingly slow, she felt him close the space between them and shivered when the back of his fingers gently stroked her left hand, before taking it between his own warm hands to kiss reverently. Her husband paid special attention to her ring finger, placing a myriad of delicate kisses around the gold band that now adorned it, the symbol of his own promise to go with her forever.

And they were one year into forever already, having spent the days since last Christmas as husband and wife. They were days that had Gold in constant wonder, with mornings of healing scars with trust, honesty and sweet touches, and evenings of small gestures of devotion and intimacies that he would have never dared dream about. It was a year that strengthened his conviction he would forever treasure each occasion Belle would wrap her hands around his waist and brighten the whole town with her smile, every chance he got to lose himself in her clear, blue eyes, and every moment such as this, when he was permitted, no, welcomed to touch her. It still puzzled him that someone as perfect as her would choose to love and give herself to someone as flawed and unworthy as he was. But every time he had muttered the thought, it had earned him a reprimand at best and a choking with his tie at worst. So love him she did, and touch her he would, for she was his and he would never get enough of her.

Gold slid his trembling palms underneath Belle's, relishing in the shivers that his stroking fingers elicited from her. Upon withdrawing, he traced each of her finger pads delicately, then moved back up to caress her wrists and along her arms, tracing patterns on her soft skin until he was touching the brown curls adorning her shoulders. He gently pushed them back to reveal her perfect neck, and traced his fingertips over her collarbone, along her jaw, reaching up to stroke her cheek. Gods, he could spend an eternity just staring at her, worshipping her.

Belle, however, was slightly more impatient than him, and she involuntarily bit her lip, nuzzling into his hand. His breath was caressing her face now, warm against her lips, and she could feel the contour of his own lips wavering just inches away from hers, not quite touching but not backing away either. It felt as if it was just the two of them in the world, his mouth and hers suspended in time, mere millimetres apart, longing for each other as they had for twenty eight frozen years…

Gold often found himself reminiscing on all the time they had lost, and tonight made no exception. His thoughts would wander on how their lives had been back in the Dark Castle and, more importantly, on what their lives could have been. He remembered the unintentional brushing of arms, the fleeting looks he managed to steal and always, always that one reckless kiss that he was too stricken and scared to value. One night, cuddled to his chest, Belle sighed and confessed to him that she too thought back on those times. It was the part of them that, despite their kiss in the forest and her generous, reassuring hands on his shoulders, despite the shy glances over the table at Granny's and his reading to her while cuddled under a blanket in the tiny flat above the library, they hadn't been able to properly heal in this world. And how could they? They were Mrs. and Mr. Gold here, trapped in a merry prison - but a prison nonetheless -, with memories of another life. A life where Belle ached for the return and acceptance of her scaly companion, and Rumplestiltskin longed for a second chance to shower her with love and give her the place at his side that he had denied her so brutally before. It felt like a craving impossible to sate, for how could they truly be Belle and Rumplestilstskin in this land? And yet… if there was any remnant of their world's magic in Storybrooke… if there was any magic at all in this no magic land, a land where people obstinately spoke of the miracles occurring at Christmas time, then could it give, gift, them with what they craved for? For a while now, Gold has made the decision to take a leap of faith and hope that it could.

… and then time resumed its course and Belle was in front of him, beautiful and shining and wanting, and Gold's lips went on hers, kissing tenderly her top one, then sucking lovingly on her bottom lip before placing a firm hand on the back of her head and plunging for a passionate kiss, a kiss that was both torture and redemption, everything he had not allowed them in the old life and everything that they had been forbidden by others, a kiss decades in the making.

Entranced, Belle's hands found their way to his shoulders of their own accord, and she carded them through the hair at his nape, scratching lightly with her nails while he caressed her tongue with his and nibbled at her lips. With a fraction of coherent thought, she realized that he had disposed of his suit jacket and tie, and was now pressed flush against her in only his shirt. At her small motion meant to unbutton it, Gold's lips were gone from hers, his hands wrapping around her wrists instead, bringing her open palms to his chest. When he spoke, his voice was as thick as she had ever heard it.

"Lay on the bed, love." Her husband was just as breathless as she was.

Belle stumbled backwards, her knees fully trembling now, and, guided by her husband's hands, managed to sit on the edge of their bed. How could he stir her so with just one kiss? She yelped in surprise as she felt a soft, slightly tingling strand of wool circling her right ankle. Gold had knelt before her and was now meticulously tying the soft thread in a neat bow. A few bewildered moments had passed before Belle felt something cool being wrapped around her other ankle, and she immediately recognized it as his gold wire. She didn't get enough time to become properly puzzled by how he was also securing the metal in a tidy bow, as she felt a powerful surge of magic travel through it at the exact moment he had it knotted.

"Rum…"

His hand squeezed her calf in gentle reassurance, and he waited. They both waited…

"The spinner's wool and the magpie's gold thread" he whispered soothingly, "the man and the monster, they are both at your feet, my lady." The reverence in his voice nearly stopped her heart right then and there.

"When I was one of them, for as long as I will be both and from when I'll hopefully be only the other… I have loved you then, Belle, I love you now and I will always love you. Always." His voice trembled and she knew there were tears in his eyes.

"I love you, too," she whispered, and it came out far more choked than she'd anticipated. "Each of you… all of you. Please, let me see you… please."

Gold let out a shaky breath. His brave Belle, always willing to see him for what he was: man, monster or something that the world had crushed in between. It didn't matter to her, as long as he was being truthful. And truthful he will always be to Belle, he'd made that resolve a long time ago, stepping out of a library with tears in his eyes and hope in his heart.

Leaning up, supporting his weight on his good knee, he brushed his fingers along the bare back of her calves and knees, up her thighs through her red dress, following the contour of her hips, merely touching the sides of her breasts yet causing Belle to draw a sharp intake of breath. For his part, he was positive that the warmth radiating from her body would set him on fire.

He caressed the side of her face with such tenderness that it brought tears to her eyes, and then he was finally unlacing the ribbon. Belle blinked twice, readjusting to the dimly lit room, then smiled brightly at him.

"My handsome hero."

Gold laughed warmly, closing the space between them to give her a chaste kiss on the lips. How he went from that to teasing her ear lobe with tongue and teeth the next moment, Belle couldn't have said.

"I'd rather not," he mumbled. "That's a terribly dull book, dearie. Haven't you got a written word a wee bit more… enticing?"

"Well…" Belle added, a little breathless under his ministrations, "there's… these's the story of a lonesome gunslinger coming to the rescue of the damsel he'd been worshipping from afar." Gold made an appreciative sound in his throat as his tongue moved down her neck to explore with fierce passion. "Or… you might enjoy the tale of a witty cat with claws enrapturing the heart of a twitchy Viscount?" At this point Belle was struggling for words, but she wasn't about to cower before her husband's mouth set on a quest to devour her whole. "I seem to recall a couple of spies prone to getting themselves into trouble… a hardened businessman sweetened to the point of addiction… a troubled soul in need of a responsible apothecary. Does… does any of them meet your liking? Cause there's more…"

"Oh yes," Gold hummed, pampering her neck with soft kisses before moving to kiss her collarbone, adding the additional lick or scrape of teeth in what Belle thought to be a despicably calculated attempt to drive her utterly insane. She was completely unprepared for what he spoke next: "Stories get bonus points from me if they involve the lady being debauched over desks or pool tables. And if there's tea. And kittens", he giggled, and Belle was torn between bursting into laughter and yanking the clothes off the bastard already.

Belle had always been a firm believer in turnabout being fair play, and Gold was reminded of that when her nails started scratching gently, then more forcefully along his navel, ribs and back.

"Minx," he panted, biting on her shoulder in response, and Belle giggled, delighted with her payback.

By the time her hands made it to Gold's chest and loosened up just enough buttons on his shirt to slip inside and touch skin, they were both splayed onto the bed, breathing heavily, Gold's arms clutching at her waist, pressing her as close to him as she would get. She knew she would never get close enough. He was rock hard against her thigh, and yet all he seemed preoccupied in was not letting an inch of daylight settle between them.

"We're overdressed," Belle panted.

"It's Christmas, dearie," he managed to chirp in between kisses, "Everyone overdresses." He was teasing, but Belle could see the darkness in his eyes. He needed her bare and clinging to him for dear life just as much as she needed him.

"Well then, there must be balance in this world, or who knows what else might happen. For there are poor unfortunate overdressed souls out there, let there be no clothing in here at all," she declared, smirking.

The sound that came out of Gold's mouth was something between a laugh, whimper and groan, and Belle found it thrilling that even as Mr. Gold he could still entice her with his tones just as much as Rumplestiltskin once did. Gold's sounds were, however, reserved for their bedroom.

Belle turned to give her husband access to the zipper on her dress. He slid it down her back, his movements slow to the point of turning hypnotic, and she sighed, preparing a witty retort to spur him on. She had no notion that what she would see upon turning to look him in the eyes would steal her breath away instead, for the man standing behind her was not Gold anymore, but Rumplestiltskin. Curly hair, skin glimmering in the pale light, deft fingers unlacing, dark nails scraping the thin fabric of her now pale blue dress. For a brief moment, before shock overtook her, Belle's eyes crinkled in fondness at the sight of him. His large eyes were watching her intently.

"What… what is this," she managed, voice trembling.

"It's us, dearie. We're home." Belle's eyes widened further.

"Sweetheart, it's Christmas past," he added, seeing her anguished expression. Belle couldn't help notice he was wearing the same astonished look on his face that he used to wear when she did something to surprise him, back in the Dark Castle.

"More accurately, it's what would have been our past, had we acknowledged how we felt for each other." He coughed to clear his voice, his shoulders sinking. "Had I not been a cowardly idiot."

Rumplestiltskin lowered his gaze, focusing instead on idly caressing her hip, now enveloped in her old petticoats.

"But… how?"

"Magic, dearie," he added brightly, one finger in the air, and Belle was torn between weeping and smiling at the sight of her beloved imp before her once again. "It was time I put it to good use," he chuckled.

To her surprise, Belle let out an unlady-like snort, which had Rumplestiltskin grinning in turn. Her laugh reassured him, and he thanked the gods for not committing a terrible mistake by using magic to make their two worlds collide for one night.

"We're…" he gestured with his hands between them, trying to find the right words, "together… both here and there. The magic is not powerful enough to take us back completely." And just as Rumplestiltskin spoke the words, it was again Gold laying beside her, watching her with an equally fond expression. Belle gasped in surprise at the transformation occurring before her very eyes, and she looked down at herself only to realize that she was now wearing her lacy bra and pale blue knickers, accessorized with Gold's warm hand resting on her hip where Rumplestiltskin's scaly one had been just moments ago.

"That's fine. Here and there is enough," she smiled her warmest smile, cradling his face in her hands.

He was Rumplestiltskin again when he slowly pulled her silk nightgown, one of her old silk nightgowns, she realized dazedly, over her head, and she was in awe when she pushed his waistcoat over his shoulders. It was Rumplestiltskin who cuddled her naked body so close to his chest, whimpering and avidly inhaling her scent, and she's never been this hungry for more. It was Gold who showered her breasts with kisses, worshipping every inch of her skin with his mouth, and Belle was entranced.

Belle was lost. Belle was found. She was making love to her master, her husband, her companion and her lover, as curls and yellow eyes were melting beautifully into soft, straight hair and piercing brown gaze. One moment there were dark nails scratching softly along her sides, the next there were smooth, human fingers caressing her inner thighs, yet the gaze of fascination in his expression remained the same, were it Gold or Rumplestiltskin before her. How had she not realized before that this was what they needed to make peace between their old and new selves and finally, finally, be truly happy.

Gold was having a revelation of his own. He hadn't considered what it would do to him to have his Belle in Storybrooke and the Dark Castle at the same time, he hadn't thought on how he would react to the soft sounds she was making, the hungry, desperate, pleading look in her eyes. No, he hadn't planned this properly at all! He was overwhelmed by the love that his caretaker, his wife, his true love who he thought long lost, the only woman who had ever stuck by him no matter what was laying upon him. It was too much. It wasn't enough.

Belle was gasping and moaning and smiling brighter than ever. She couldn't remember the last time that she had been this happy. No, she had never been this happy. She had never before felt true love and burning desire pouring through their veins, healing all past betrayal and hurt, leaving only fondness in place, creating a future for Mr. and Mrs. Gold, for Rumplestiltsin and the spinner's new little wife, for the Dark One and the mistress of his castle, a future where they could truly be together. In love. Forever.

Belle's legs wrapped around Rumplestiltskin's hips, creamy skin caressing green scales, and he kissed her deeply in return. She pressed him flush against her then, arms spawned across his back holding him tight in her desperation to be one with the man she loved. Gold held her just as close, his own arms going beneath her to circle her waist. And then he made sure that there would never again be an inch of past, present or future daylight between them. Their bodies became one, moving together, gasping and beaming at each other, a litany of words of love pouring from their lips. And, in that blissful moment when they came apart, time had smiled too and decided to move for them again.

Belle awoke drowsily from a wondrous dream of a little baby cuddled in between his parents' arms in the warm sheets of their Storybrooke bed. Only a couple of hours must have passed, for darkness was still lingering outside. Belle smiled to herself and lifted her eyes to her husband who, surprisingly, was already staring at her, and smiling fondly himself.

"That's our Christmas future, pet," he said.

Belle beamed at him, giggling and launching her arms towards him, and for the thousand time in one year, he wondered how could someone so tiny embrace so tightly. He laughed, a deep, heartfelt laugh that was neither Rumplestiltskin's, nor Gold's, but simply the laugh of Belle's husband. She pulled back a little to glance at her left leg that now laid interlaced with his.

"So… what else can that gold thread of yours do," she challenged, and Gold smirked. It was going to be a very merry Christmas.