Note: Once is the property of respective owners and such, of which I am not one.

It occurred to me that our dear Rumplestiltskin isn't really the sort to disobey a direct command from Belle-thanks to his various foibles (I have a full psychological background for him in my head to explain all that), I think he'd do exactly as she asked and leave her alone. So what made him change his mind? This was just a possible scenario that popped into my mind.

The problem with working in a restaurant that ran virtually 24-hours a day was that sleep became a secondary consideration. Add a bed and breakfast job onto that, and sleep became virtually a myth. Ruby had to acknowledge, as she stared blearily at her coffee, that she could've been asleep much sooner the night before, but poor Belle, already so lost and alone, and had some of the worst daddy issues Ruby had ever seen. The poor thing had struggled to find the only family she had left, only to have her boyfriend (Ruby really didn't feel like he'd earned the term, ill-fitting for Gold though it was, but it was the only one she could think of) actively stand in the way. Worse, when Belle finally did find her father, he'd refused to listen to her at all, tried making her decisions for her, and when she tried to state her own mind, he'd tried to erase her identity.

Granny was a lot of things, and frustrating was definitely one of them, but an identity-destroyer definitely wasn't.

Deciding that she'd waited long enough for her much-needed caffeine, Ruby disregarded the steam curling from her coffee and took a large gulp. It was delicious, just the right amount of creamer that Storybrooke-Ruby had been addicted to, but the scorching heat pouring down her throat made her instantly regret her decision. She set it aside with a wince, looking at the sweetener-lightened liquid with a jaundiced eye as she opened up the B-and-B's reservation book

It was odd, she decided as she tapped a pencil against the book, staring into the distance unseeingly, having her Storybrooke memories sitting alongside her Enchanted Forest memories in her head, merrily chatting away and exchanging information about people from each world. Granny ran both a bed and breakfast and a diner and was an aging werewolf, outgrowing her fur. Sidney Glass was a reporter and a genie in service to the queen. David was the stand-in sheriff and a shepherd-turned-prince-turned-ruler.

Gold was a pawnbroker… and the Spinner.

The man had always been awful—only his iron grip on her grandmother's sources of income had kept Storybrooke-Ruby from giving him a solid piece of her mind. Enchanted Forest-Ruby had always been afraid of his legend, convinced that he was nothing short of evil incarnate.

This new Ruby, the one who was forced to combine the two personas gallivanting about in her own head, wasn't afraid of Gold in the sense that her previous self had been… but she certainly didn't like the man. When comparing Gold to his previous self, it became apparent that he hadn't changed much. Belle, however, had been less than convinced of his awfulness, and more concerned with—God help them all—his mental health. Or something like that; Belle hadn't been too clear about it, poor thing.

She was livid with him, Ruby could see that much. Then again, a blind person could've seen that much. Ruby had settled Belle into her room with a box of tissues, several movies, and some chocolate—the standard "my boyfriend's an idiot" toolkit. Belle, to her credit, hadn't latched on to hardly any of it. She'd gripped a tissue in one hand and a mug of tea in the other as she'd explained things to Ruby.

Not that Belle had explained much; she'd seemed hesitant to give away much about her relationship with the erstwhile Spinner. The gist Ruby had gotten was that Gold was blocking Belle out, deliberately keeping her in the dark and hiding things from her, making decisions he knew would upset her and then, worse (according to Belle), trying to hide them from her by manipulating the truth. Ruby personally felt that, maybe, Belle was overlooking the small fact that Gold was the Dark One, had tried to delicately point that out. Belle, however, had shaken her head.

"There's good in him," she insisted. "I've seen it. He can love, I know he can, but he refuses to let me in. Worse, he thinks he can just hide things from me and make ridiculous assumptions about me and what I think and that I'll just accept it." Belle shook her head, then turned and looked at Ruby, her expression begging for answers. "How can I stay with someone who doesn't respect me? I love him… but I can't be with someone who doesn't let me choose my fate, who hides himself from me and expects me to be content with half a relationship. And what does that do to him? He can't lock me out that way, it isn't healthy."

Reflecting on Gold's behavior while they'd been searching for Belle, Ruby couldn't disagree with the assertion that Gold had feelings—or, at least, feelings for Belle. He'd been on edge in a way that Ruby had never seen, visually distraught and extremely tense. She'd never seen Gold lose control before, not until he'd thrown Moe French against the Game of Thorns van. It was a side of Gold that Ruby had never even suspected existed, let alone seen; a desperate fear that lead to stupid words and actions, a terrible dread that drove people mad.

With that in mind, Ruby was willing to concede the fact that Gold had feelings, even feelings of love. It was still, she decided as she risked another sip on her coffee, a mind-boggling thought, but between what Belle had said and Ruby had seen with her own eyes, there was no avoiding it. It was certainly hard, though: for goodness' sake, this was Gold. Gold, who was better known as Rumplestiltskin. Belle obviously had feelings for him, strong feelings, and they weren't exactly feelings of dislike and disgust. She'd been living with him. And even more surprising, Belle's biggest complaint wasn't that he was evil, but that he was a good person making bad choices. Rumplestiltskin… good?

"The mind rebels," Ruby muttered to herself darkly, dropping the pencil in surrender—the reservation books definitely weren't going to be updated, not by her hand. Ruby gave a mental shrug as she grabbed her coffee and purse and headed for the door. It was just as well: she was better with the restaurant anyway, and she wasn't going to get to any conclusions on the Belle/Gold dilemma by staring off into space.

Yanking the door open, Ruby came to a very abrupt halt that almost spelled sheer disaster for her remaining coffee. Of the two people occupying her thoughts, one of them was standing on the doorstep to Granny's bed and breakfast—and of those two people, this was definitely the one she wanted to see the least.

Ruby pressed her lips together just slightly, lifting her chin. "Gold," she said tersely, refusing to say anything more.

"Miss Lucas," Gold returned, and Ruby thought he looked as surprised as she felt—an odd expression on the ever-assured pawnbroker. "I was thinking to find your grandmother."

"She's not in," Ruby retorted with thinly-veiled hostility. "Is there something you needed?"

Gold opened his mouth, hesitated, and then said with a wry expression, "You've been speaking to Belle."

It wasn't a question, and Ruby didn't have it in her to play dumb. It was way too early, and she wasn't even a full cup of coffee in. With an expression of extreme impatience, Ruby turned and headed back to the front desk, leaving the door open but not bothering to extend an invitation. She set her coffee down on the desk with a thunk, then turned and faced Gold with her arms crossed.

"She didn't say much," Ruby admitted. "But she did say that you deliberately hid things from her. You know what that means to her, right?" She didn't wait for an answer. "That means you're trying to take her choices from her. That you don't trust her, or respect her enough to let her make her own conclusions. Translation: you're an idiot, and no better than her father."

She probably shouldn't have spoken for Belle that way, Ruby had to admit, but the cringe that rippled over not just Gold's face, but his entire form, told her that her point had hit home, which made it hard to regret it. "I never wanted to do that to her," he said, voice low and eyes on his hands. Gold drew in a breath and met Ruby's eyes. "I know," he said, with a confidence that Ruby suspected was a little fake, "that I don't deserve her, and that I could never hope to. But that doesn't mean I don't love her."

There was a quiet defiance in his expression, as if daring her to tell him that he couldn't, that he wasn't capable of loving her, or allowed to have those feelings. Ruby didn't really feel like that was necessary. "Oh, I know you do," she replied. "It's obvious. But I also know that you can't expect her to be happy with half a relationship, where you lock her out and hide things from her. She has every right to not want to see you."

"Yes," Gold said quickly, obviously impatient with the conversation. "Well. That's why I'm here, in fact." He reached into his jacket pocket—of course he was in a full suit at 6:30 in the morning—and produced a small box tied with a ribbon. "This is for her. I thought I might leave it here for her, since she doesn't want to see me."

He held it out to her, and Ruby reached for it slowly, eyeing him with speculation. "I'll make sure she gets it."

There was a slight hesitation, as if Gold wanted to ask her something, but instead he nodded abruptly and started to head for the door. Ruby looked down at the little box, thinking over everything she'd seen and heard over the past day. "Gold," she called suddenly.

Already at the door, Gold paused, his hand on the knob, and looked back at her, his expression guarded. Ruby gave him another mildly hostile look, crossing her arms again. "I'm not your biggest fan," she stated baldly.

"You're certainly not alone in that."

"For some reason, she is."

He had the grace to look—dare she say it—abashed. He looked away from her and said, "I have no idea why. She—" Gold broke off suddenly, swallowed convulsively, then added, "She deserves better."

There was an honesty to his tone that hurt, a raw, aching bluntness that made Ruby soften her tone when she replied, "I won't argue with that. But…" Ruby drew a deep breath. She was interfering in a way that was dangerously close to what had hurt Belle so badly to start with, but she felt that taking the risk was the right thing to do. She could only hope that Belle felt the same way. "I do think you're wrong when you say she doesn't want to see you."

The look he gave her was filled with such pained, desperate hope that it made his face nearly unrecognizable. The intimidating Gold, the infamous Rumplestiltskin, looked rather like Ruby, werewolf extraordinaire, had given him a last minute reprieve on a death sentence. "You heard what she said in the mine," he said, his tone almost accusatory for getting his hopes up.

"Yes," she retorted, "but I also saw how upset you were yesterday, and I heard what she had to say last night. She needs her own life, and she needs you to trust her, but I don't think she needs you to walk away."

Now Gold eyed her with outright suspicion. "And why, might I ask, are you telling me this? You don't like me."

Ruby rolled her eyes. "No, I don't. But if you can managed to pull your head out—" she gave him a skeptical look, "—then I'm willing to call a truce."

"A truce," he repeated flatly, pointedly ignoring her crass remark.

"Yep. I'll give her this, I'll even not tell her who dropped it off, but I think you owe it to her to let her in. She already cares about you, don't throw it in her face by keeping her in the dark. Talk to her."

Gold eyed her for a moment, his expression impossible to read. "Very well, Miss Lucas," he said eventually. "A truce." He turned to go, but paused one last time. "I'm glad she met you," he admitted, not looking at her, and walked through the door before Ruby could reply.

Ruby sighed and grabbed her coffee, waiting for Gold to clear the area before walking out the door herself. It was definitely a risk—she hated interfering in her friend's life like this, knowing how much Ruby herself hated it when she thought Granny had been interfering. Belle, though, deserved to be happy for once—or, failing that, at least deserved answers. Hopefully, Gold would realize that their "truce" was just a last-ditch effort to give him a chance to save what Ruby strongly suspected was the best thing that had ever happened to him.