Disclaimer: As you can probably tell from the fact I'm writing fanfiction, I don't own Once Upon a Time or any of its characters.

Emma Swan had lived her adult life in cities around the United States but, as couldn't be helped, she had also spent some time in small towns. They were quaint little oddities, where everyone knew each other's business and everyone's faults were under a microscope. Emma preferred to be invisible, anonymous, just another face… Storybrooke wouldn't let her have her way. In the twelve or so hours she had been there, she had met the mayor, the sheriff, the town proprietor, her son, the town's grandmotherly matron, her son's shrink, and a slut wanna-be, with just about as many varying accents. If there was a stereotype, Emma was sure it would be found here.

Still, nothing prepared her for her first glance at Mrs. Gold.

She had just dropped Henry off at school, deciding to go back to the diner in hopes that her hot chocolate was still waiting for her. She glanced down the street to see a young woman making her way towards the heart of town. A book was open in her hands, and she seemed completely absorbed by it. She stepped off the curb and into oncoming traffic.

"Hey, lady! Look out!" Emma yelled.

The town's speed limit of 25 wasn't exactly the throes of death, but cars still had a good couple of tons of steel on a pedestrian. The cars coming from either direction slowly came to a stop to let her pass, as though prepared for the woman to completely ignore the common sense laws of the road. She stepped up onto the curb of the other side, rounding a sign. Pongo bounded after her despite Archie's best efforts to restrain him. Archie smiled and greeted the woman as she quickly patted Pongo, eyes never leaving the page. Archie didn't seem the least bit phased at the woman's lack of greeting, continuing on merrily.

There was some remodeling going on in one of the shops, construction workers moving in and out with supplies. Seconds before a 2x4 would have smacked her in the face, the woman ducked, straightening after the danger had passed. The worker gave her an apology instead of what Emma thought was a well-deserved "watch where you're going". A couple of other workers set down the children's see-saw they were moving out and she walked up one side and down the other as if it were part of the road. The workers picked the see-saw back up and kept going.

She paused in front of the post office, peeling a hand away to rummage through the woven straw handbag on one arm. She pulled out some letters, pushed them into the mailbox, and then continued to the next intersection. She stopped at this one, letting an Oldsmobile that thought it was a sports car pass, before she continued on her journey. Emma couldn't stop staring. If that chick tried to read a book walking down Times Square like that, she would've been run over. And the townspeople just adjusted to her like it was some everyday occurrence? Strange things happened, but this was just downright bizarre.

Emma made her way back to Granny's, only to see the woman standing in the pathway leading from the outdoor seating to the entrance. She didn't take a seat. She didn't put her book away. She just stood there, reading. Emma studied her a moment, expecting her to notice her gaze. She didn't. Emma shrugged and moved around her, going inside.

No one was paying attention to the woman outside. Emma took a seat at the counter and Granny immediately came over with her warmed-back-up hot chocolate. Emma thanked her, but continued to watch the strange girl. She looked to be about Mary Margaret's age, slim and pale with long brown curls pulled back in a loose ponytail. She wore a white button-up blouse and dark blue jeans, caught between casual and business. She was odd, but overall harmless, Emma decided.

She finally closed her book, glancing around as if wondering how she had got there. She recovered quickly, pushing the door open.

Emma jumped when a chorus of "good morning"s erupted from the diner. The girl smiled and started to greet them back.

"Good morning Sheriff Graham, Sidney, Walter, Kathryn…Granny," The elderly woman gave a maternal smirk. The girl started to make her rounds, chatting up each customer in turn as though it were a party.

Emma leaned in towards Granny conspiratorially.

"Who's Little Miss Sunshine?" She mumbled.

"Rosaline Gold," Granny replied, "A funny girl, but she's got a good heart."

Ruby started to set a place a seat away from Emma; a cup of tea, a cinnamon roll with a side of fruit, utensils.

"You're late," Ruby chided the woman goodnaturedly once she was done working the room. She shrugged.

"Can't help it. The slave driver turned off my alarm."

Rosaline Gold hopped up onto the stool and then glanced at Emma, who was trying to pretend she wasn't just watching the stranger. She smiled.

"I'm sorry; I don't think we've met before."

"We haven't," Emma said. The woman offered her hand.

"My friends call me Rose," she said. Emma shook her hand.

"Emma…my friends would probably call me Emma if I had any." Rose laughed. Emma didn't mean for it to be a joke.

"Well it's nice to meet you…Emma." Rose pulled the book out of her bag and set it on the counter, "Thanks for letting me borrow it, Ruby. It was pretty good."

Ruby's jaw dropped, eyes widened in astonishment as though Rose had just slapped down irrefutable evidence of Bigfoot.

"I just gave that to you yesterday! There's no way you could've read it all already, it's like four hundred pages!" Emma glimpsed the cover; a man's tie with the title "Fifty Shades of Grey" to the right of it. Rose shrugged.

"It was a slow day."

"You're insane!" Ruby declared, snatching the book off the counter as if insulted, "It took me six months to read it! Six months!" Rose frowned.

"Does this mean I can't borrow the sequel from you?" Ruby gave a growl-snort hybrid, rolling her eyes so hard Emma swore they'd snap off their tendons or whatever they were attached to.

Rose picked up her fork and cut into her cinnamon roll. The frustration subsided and Ruby's elbows came up onto the counter, leaning in towards the older woman.

"Soooo…?" She pried. Rose glanced at her.

"So…what?"

"So what did you think?" Ruby grinned, "Pretty hot, am I right?" Rose shrugged, chewing and swallowing.

"It's not the best erotica I've ever read, but I did get an idea or two to try out." If it was possible, Ruby's grin widened.

"Oh? With who?" Rose held up her left hand, arching an eyebrow.

"Who do you think?"

Ruby examined the hand for a moment, then recoiled so violently it was as if something had bit her.

"With him? EW! That's disgusting!" She shrieked.

No one had been paying attention to the conversation before, besides Emma. Now everyone in the restaurant had turned to see the cause of Ruby's outburst. Rose sank lower in her seat, partially covering her face with one arm.

"Goddammit, Ruby…" She grumbled. Ruby threw her arms up in the air.

"I need to go bleach my eyes!" Though it was questionable whether her threat was serious or not, she did retreat to the kitchen.

There were two rings on the third finger of Rose's left hand; one was a typical golden band, while the second was a little less typical. The ring was studded with small stones that looked like topaz, but they sparkled as if there were flecks of glitter somehow inside of them. She was married, so either everyone referred to her by her maiden name (odd, but not unlikely) or she had married into the Gold family (more likely). Emma wondered how the woman was related to the man she had seen last night; daughter-in-law maybe? Then she caught sight of her inner arm.

It was too ugly to simply dismiss as a bruise, but it was dark like one, running from her wrist to the crook of her elbow in a direct line. It was jagged like a scabbed gash, but in shades of purple and black. Emma had seen a lot of birthmarks before (it helped in her line of work to have some distinguishing feature like that), but none had looked so…sinister.

"So what brings you to town, Emma?" Rose asked, resting her arm scar-down on the counter. Emma grimaced as she realized she had been staring at it.

"Uh, well…my past actually." Rose's eyebrows lifted.

"Really?"

"Yeah, it uh…caught up with me." Emma was still getting used to explaining the situation.

"In a good way or a bad way?"

"Good way," Emma insisted quickly, drumming her fingers against the coffee mug, "My um…the son I gave up for adoption…he found me."

"I can imagine that would be quite a shock," Rose said, continuing to eat.

"Yeah, it was…" Emma waited, but Rose didn't seem inclined to interrogate her, "…you don't wanna know who he is?"

"I figured if you wanted me to know, you'd tell me," she sipped at her tea, "And if not, well, there's always the grapevine."

Emma wrinkled her nose in distaste.

"If it's anything like the grapevines I've heard through, you can't really trust it."

"I've got a few strong branches," she assured her.

Emma let the woman finish up her breakfast, playing with her cup and trying not to watch her like some sort of weirdo.

"…it's Henry," she blurted out, "The Mayor's son."

Rose glanced up at Emma, tilting her head to the side. There was no accusation in her eyes, nor was there surprise. There was merely curiosity at the new information. Those blue eyes were a wonder, though, so big and blue she looked like a newborn or a chick with contact lenses or something. Emma bet she could wrap a lot of people around her fingers with those things. She found herself wanting to believe that the innocence wasn't a show, that this lady was as honest as she appeared…but Emma had found out a long time ago there was no such thing as an innocent person.

"He has your chin," she finally said, setting her fork down, "Hopefully the news hasn't caused too many ripples in either of your lives."

Emma snorted, "Well it's not like telling a kid the Easter Bunny isn't real; he's got a parent who gave him away for Christ's sake. Everything changes when biological meets adoptive."

"Words of wisdom," Rose noted. Emma thought it was just common sense.

She sighed.

"His other mom isn't too happy about it, closed adoption, sneaking away to Boston to bring me home, yada yada." Rose tried to suppress a smile.

"I'm sure Regina isn't taking to it well. She's a bit…controlling and yes, Sidney, feel free to tell her I said that if you want to," she raised her voice without turning around. The reporter looked like his hand got caught in a cookie jar, focusing much more intently on his bacon and eggs now. Rose grinned at Emma, "The mayor already knows how I feel about her."

Ruby cleared away their dishes and then went back to leaning on the counter, acting as though she was just another girl hanging out with her friends instead of a waitress on duty.

"Emma's going to be here for the week," Ruby offered. Rose smiled.

"That's great. I'm sure Henry's dying to get to know you, and vice versa." Emma shifted uncomfortably.

"I don't think "dying"'s the right word… I mean, I do want to get to know him, but…I don't want him to get too attached," she frowned, "I don't really stay in one place too long."

"I'm sure he's thrilled just to know you care," Rose murmured. Emma blinked.

"What makes you say that?" Before Rose could answer, Emma noticed the collective breath being held. Ruby had gone as rigid as a retriever during the hunt, staring out the window. Emma turned.

It wasn't much of a stare-worthy sight, in her opinion. It was only Mr. Gold idly standing on the sidewalk in front of the diner, trying his hardest not to look like he was waiting. Rose sighed.

"There's the old ball-and-chain now," she said, sounding a little too cheery to be using that phrase, "Check please, Ruby." No sooner were the words said that Ruby took off for the register.

Rose rolled her eyes at Emma as if to say "can you believe these people?". Emma smirked, but she didn't agree with her. If the man owned most of the town and had such a reputation, it had to be for some reason, even if it was only a matter of presence.

"It was nice to meet you, Emma," Rose said as Ruby set the receipt down in front of her. She pulled out a twenty and set it on top, "Keep the change," she told Ruby, who murmured a quiet "thanks".

"Nice to meet you too, Rose."

"Good luck with Henry…and Regina."

"Thanks."

Rose hopped down off of her stool and headed for the door, receiving and giving goodbyes to the other customers. She paused at the door, back against it.

"And Ruby?" The waitress glanced up, "Since you're not letting me borrow the sequel, I'll just have to go out and buy it during my lunch break. I want to know if Christian changes his ways for the woman he loves."

"Don't spoil it for me!" Ruby whined. Rose winked, and then slipped out the door.

Emma watched her go down the walkway, drawn in she guessed as much as everyone else.

"Well, guess it's time to fill the car with antifreeze and salt the roads," Granny said to no one in particular, "Because hell just froze over."

"Mr. Gold doesn't come to the diner," Ruby insisted, filling Emma in on the local drama.

"And you never see them together," Graham piped up, "It's always either one or the other."

"For years I thought they lived in separate houses, or he slept in the pawn shop or something," Sidney offered.

Mr. Gold smiled as Rose came up to him, his eyes darting away and then back to her boyishly. He didn't look a lot like the man who was being all creepy with her at the inn last night; it was hard to believe anyone found him intimidating the way he acted with Rose in sight. She strolled up to him, a few words were exchanged, and then they kissed.

That was not the way a father-in-law might kiss his son's wife. No, Rose was his wife, Emma was sure of it now.

With all of the gasping in the background, it was like she had flashed him or something.

"Did that seriously just happen?!"

"Sidney, please tell me you got that!"

"What alternate universe am I in? Because there is no way I'm seeing this in Storybrooke…"

"I need to get my glasses checked."

"I don't know what kind of drugs he's on, but I'd like some."

Rose slid her arm into his and they walked away, their strides matching effortlessly as they disappeared from sight. It hit Emma low in her stomach, and she wasn't quite sure why. Yes, there was the age-old question of "what's that guy doing with that girl?", but there was something else. Something sharp and hot. Envy maybe? She hoped not.

"For the longest time we thought she was a mail-order bride," Ruby told her, lips pursed thoughtfully, "But apparently she grew up here."

"That led to the rumor that she was sold to him to pay off her father's debts," Sidney continued, "Unfortunately there's no evidence to back that claim."

"Gold digger using her body to earn an easy living?" Emma guessed. Sheriff Graham shook his head.

"Even more unlikely than the mail-order bride scheme. She doesn't take enough of his crap for it to be about the money…"

"It would have to be a helluva lot of money to put up with him," Kathyrn piped up. Granny planted her hands down on the counter.

"I'll tell you what happened; that girl turns eighteen, wants to get out of the house, out of Storybrooke, carpe diem and all that jazz. She'll take whatever road's in front of her, and Mr. Gold just so happens to be the first guy she lays eyes on," she grunted her disapproval, "He's a predator, mark my word, and predators go after the weak and vulnerable. She didn't have a chance after he convinced her he loved her." The customers slowly nodded, agreeing that the theory made sense. Didn't everyone know a girl like that, who wanted freedom from her life at any cost?

Emma wasn't sold on any of their theories. The way he looked at her was the way every woman wanted to be looked at. Being that lovesick could turn any predatory man into the feeblest of prey.

Regina was, as usual, on a mission. Her solid walk and quick gait warned people of this, and they pretty much stayed out of her way. Dr. Archibald Hopper wasn't too difficult a man to intimidate, but she felt this deserved a more…personal touch. She was on her way to his office when a sight as horrid as the working clock tower met her head on.

They were together. Not merely taking a companionable walk, but they were together. Arms linked, stride matching stride, practically one person save for the sharp contrast between their attire. Rosaline's free hand was gesturing wildly as she spoke, her body animated with the scene she was painting. Mr. Gold was quiet, keeping his eyes down on the sidewalk, intently listening to her as his cane rhythmically met the pavement. They looked close. They looked like lovers.

"…I mean, how can you do that to a woman? If she's not in the mood, she's not in the mood and trust me, I would not be in the mood if I was in that situation. You ever do that to me and I swear to the gods I will beat you over the head with your own cane."

"Trust me, dearie, if I ever did that to you I'd hand you the cane and let you knock some sense back into me."

Both parties slowed as they neared each other, watching each other like a couple of cowboys at high noon. She was seeing them. They were seeing her. Neither was quite sure what to say about the matter. As usual, Mr. Gold broke the silence.

"Good morning Mayor Mills."

"Good morning Mr. Gold, Miss French." Rosaline frowned, but didn't object. Regina liked using the wrong name; it gave her the slightest power over the beauty. She glanced between the two of them, "What are you up to?"

"Oh, you know… Enjoying the sunshine. It's a rare sight in Maine, let alone this late in the fall," Mr. Gold said easily, "It's one of those little miracles that make you grateful for another day. Air in my lungs, beat in my chest, the loveliest girl in all of Storybrooke by my side…" Rosaline pretended to be bashful, doing that annoying chin-to-chest thing as Mr. Gold laced their fingers together, "What else do I need?"

Regina studied him. She was no stranger to paranoia, and many times over the course of twenty-eight years Rumplestiltskin being Rumplestiltskin had caused her worry that the curse wasn't as all-encompassing as she hoped. He was as slippery as a tadpole to pin down and get exactly what you wanted from him…and with this strange woman coming into a town where no one ever left or arrived…not to mention how much this was against the specific curse she had inflicted on the pair…

It was enough to make the Queen suspicious.

"Well, then, you two have a nice day," she said before he could feed on her doubt like a piranha.

"Take care, Mayor Mills," Rosaline said cheerily. Regina continued on her way.

She should have killed that girl when she had the chance.

It was hard not to look at each other, but they managed for a block or so. They exchanged a mischievous glance, and then burst into giggles like a couple of school children who got away with setting a whoopee cushion on the teacher's chair.

III

Even on the happiest day of her life, her stepmother just had to find a way to ruin it. All the guards that they could afford to attend the wedding couldn't stop the witch that was Regina. The Evil Queen had been vague about her latest scheme, which only drove Snow White more insane. It's hard to fight something when you don't know what you're fighting.

Still, Snow was determined to not let the disrupted ceremony dampen the celebration. Her and Charming danced and ate and laughed as they reveled in the fact that they were finally together. Surrounded by their loved ones, it was impossible to be completely down in the dumps. So she pushed the threat aside for now, and held onto James as though he'd vanish in a cloud of purple smoke.

Snow didn't jump when the Maid of Honor was suddenly at her ear, bending over the chair. Red didn't mean to sneak up on people; it was just habit.

"She's here," she murmured, "No sight of him, but I saw her." Snow nodded and immediately stood.

James caught her hand.

"And where are you going?" He tried to sound playful. Snow shook her head.

"Just out for some air."

James rose to his feet, grinning slyly, "Isn't it a bit too early for secrets?"

Snow bit her lip, caught.

"She showed up," she admitted. James's eyebrows raised.

"Maleficent? I thought she only crashed christenings."

"Not Maleficent," Snow glanced towards the crowds of well-wishers, "The Caretaker."

James stared, "Who's she?"

"The Dark One's bride," Red murmured. He tensed up.

"You invited her?"

"Them," Snow corrected meekly. She bristled at his glare, "They did a lot for us."

"Yeah, half of it damaging," he growled.

"It was better than snubbing them and hoping it'd go unpunished," Snow turned away from him. James stepped towards her.

"You're not facing her alone," he insisted, "I made a promise to be with you…it wasn't circumstantial." Red gave a wistful smile at the sentiment, but quickly shook it off.

"Come on, lovebirds. Who knows how long she's staying."

They wove through the people like fish in a stream, their faces so determined no one dared to attempt small talk. They passed each ring of social interaction until they were at the fringes, reserved souls clinging to the walls and shadows as though afraid of interacting with others. One woman was especially withdrawn, standing in a corner with a goblet in one hand. Her flowing gold dress, long-sleeved gloves and torso covered in every sort of gemstone made her as apparent as a candle's flame in a dungeon. Ostentatious but not gaudy, there was something classy about her ensemble.

She was given a wide berth, though several people kept glancing over at her. Her body language was a blatant "don't mess with me", though there was something lonely in her carefully diverted eyes. She finally rested her gaze on them and she smiled.

"Do I get to call you Mr. and Mrs. Charming now?" She asked lightly. Red excused herself as the spectators drew away, giving the trio some privacy.

She made her way over to them, unhurried and casual.

"Congratulations. You two will be very happy together." Snow looked for malice but everything, her eyes her smile her voice, generated sincerity. Snow smiled back.

"Thank you, Belle." She seemed surprised to hear her own name, and delighted. There must be such a fear to be too casual, not to offend or displease the mistress of the most powerful man in the realms…

Snow was suddenly ashamed. Here she was, trying to find ill intentions in her childhood friend, the girl who wanted nothing more than to make the world a better place. She was treating Belle as though she were Rumplestiltskin.

"Thank you for inviting us," Belle continued, "Unfortunately Rumplestiltskin's busy helping another girl get to her ball."

"You're going stag?" Snow guessed. Belle nodded.

"It's nice to have an evening to just go out and relax…" She gave a pointed glance at those who hadn't given up and joined the party, the most desperate of souls, "But there's always a few who think they can just come up to me and start begging for help. I should invest in disguises."

James shifted his weight and cleared his throat. Snow fidgeted with her ring.

Belle's lips puckered in an "oh" and she quickly shook her head.

"I didn't mean you two; an Evil Queen threatening to destroy your happiness is cause for concern. It's mostly those who don't understand the limits or price of magic, or the ones with petty complaints. Sometimes you just have to work through your problems, or learn to live with a beauty mark on your face." She gestured towards the doors, "Shall we take a walk?"

They went out to the palace gardens, a place where they could guarantee there wouldn't be any mirrors. Belle looked at the blooming flowers with appreciation, taking in each bush.

"What is Regina planning?" James demanded. Belle reached out, tentatively feeling the petals of a rose.

"You're not going to get far if you want to play Twenty Questions with me," she said, turning back to the royal couple, "I don't have very many answers; I'm on a strictly need-to-know basis with precognition."

"Tell us what you know, then," Snow pleaded.

"If the price isn't too steep," James interjected. Belle laughed, her curls bouncing as her head shook.

"Yes, yes, always with the price. This oracle's free, though; consider it our wedding present," she drew closer, looking each of them in the eye in turn, "Regina's threat is legitimate; she has something vile in mind for us all. But it will take time for her to get ready. You have a year before you need to start worrying."

"A year?" Snow's face fell, "Until what?"

"Sorry. That information will have to cost you." She took their hands, making James uncomfortable and Snow concerned, "A suggestion, though?"

"Yeah?" She brought their hands together, folding them into each other before she let go.

"Enjoy every minute you have with each other. Time is so precious."

Snow and Charming continued to hold hands while Belle started to retreat.

"I'll see you at the baby shower then, Snow?" Snow furrowed her eyebrows.

"Baby shower?" Oh, right, precognition, "Yeah, sure."

Belle beamed.

"You're leaving already?"

"I have curfew," she explained, continuing through the garden, "I've got five minutes unless I want to try and ride a pumpkin home."

They watched as Belle faded into the mist, vanishing like a thought.

III

Mr. Gold's phone vibrated against the counter. He picked it up, only for it to vibrate again. Two, three, four, five picture messages from Mrs. Gold. He flipped it open and browsed through them.

It was a sequence of Emma with a chainsaw, then Emma starting the chainsaw, then Emma taking the chainsaw to a branch of a honeycrisp apple tree, then Regina screaming at Emma with the cut branch at their feet, and then of Emma walking away from the scene. Under the last picture Belle had texted "I want her on our side :)".

Gold chortled and nodded to himself. It was a pretty compelling case to have the savior with and not against them.

III

It had been a pleasant unexpected day off, Belle thought as she threw open the garage door. She had walked Mr. Gold to work, run a few errands, had lunch with her husband, run a few more errands, passed by Regina's house just in time to snap pictures of Emma laying minor waste to the precious apple tree, and then spent the rest of the afternoon at the bookstore. Gold wouldn't be pleased at how many armfuls she had come home with, but that was what happened when he gave her a credit card and set her loose.

She gazed upon the refuge Rumplestiltskin had given her. Most men claimed the garage as theirs, but he had taken one look at the size and decided it would be better suited as her library, getting a small tool shed for himself instead. She would read in here, but there wasn't any space to curl up. Floor-to-ceiling shelves lined the walls and she could barely squeeze through the slender aisles to get at whatever book she wanted. She was trying to figure out how she'd find space for her latest purchases when a voice came from directly behind her.

"You gave it to him, didn't you?"

Belle spun around, cornered at the end of one of the aisles. The figured blocked out most of the outside light, but she saw tell-tale signs in the silhouette; the business suit, the way the ends of her hair defied gravity.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Belle said honestly.

"The book of fairy tales. Henry. You gave it to him." Belle relaxed a bit. Right, that "it".

"I'm not the only one who owns books in this town, Madame Mayor."

"But your collection is by far the largest and most expansive," she gestured around them, "So tell me, why did you do it? Do you want to fill his head with lies?"

Belle turned her head, staring at the spines of some of her favorite novels.

"…you know I volunteer at the library every Saturday, don't you?"

"Yes, I see you there when I drop Henry off." Her tone was irritable, not sure where Rosaline was going with this.

"What do I do there?"

"Something with kids, I think."

"I read to them. Fairy tales, mostly. And you know who's there every Saturday, despite being older than most of them, doe-eyed at the thought of knights and princesses? Henry." Belle turned back to Regina, "He loves that book, and I knew he'd take care of it. So yes, after I got through it I gave it to him, because stories are the most precious things we have. They teach us right from wrong, give us hope, give us somewhere to escape to when this world is just too cruel." She stared her right in the eye, "I also invited him to browse my other books and borrow whatever caught his fancy. You want to scold me for nurturing your child's love for reading? Go ahead; I'm more than willing to have that fight."

It was Regina's turn to look at the books.

"You're right," she murmured, running a finger over "Through the Looking Glass, and What Alice Found There", "Fairy tales are important…but false. I find that there's no room for gray; a person's either good or evil, never just a person, in such stories. I think they send the wrong message," she pursed her lips, "How do you feel about basements, Miss French?"

Belle's heart pounded.

"They're alright, I suppose, as long as they have a window."

"Did you know that the hospital has one?" Belle reminded herself to breathe.

"No, I didn't."

"It's their psychiatric ward…an asylum, if you will," she glared at Belle, "It's a place for people who can't tell the difference between fiction and the real world. Excellent accommodations, I've heard. You don't even have to sleep on the floor." Belle raised her chin.

"Do you think they send murderers there too, or just those who tell the truth?" She challenged. Regina's eyes widened and she opened her mouth to retort.

"Dearie, I love you, but I just can't afford to support your habit. If you keep getting this many books a week I'll have to raise rent lest you read us out of house and home." A wave of relief washed over Belle. Regina turned at the voice, appearing a bit too guilty to be accused of just having a friendly chat.

Belle saw Mr. Gold over Regina's shoulder, standing outside the garage and leaning slightly on his cane. He gave the mayor a cruel little smile.

"It seems you beat me home."

"It seems I have," Regina said mechanically. She started back down the aisle, and the claustrophobia eased up.

"Not hard to do, I guess," Mr. Gold said good-naturedly, gesturing towards his leg, "I'm sorry if I interrupted something."

"No, you didn't," Regina insisted, giving him her best politician smile, "I was just leaving."

"I'm sure," Mr. Gold stepped aside and Regina made her retreat. Regina was a smart woman; she knew better than to stay between a beast and his beauty.

Mr. Gold watched her go before making his way towards Belle.

"And what did Her Majesty have to say?" He asked, examining her. It was a habit that hinted at his old paranoia, his hatred of anyone laying a finger on his Belle, but she felt it was justified this time.

"Henry's book." Was all she had to say. He nodded and Belle folded her arms, "I think she's suspicious of us."

"Yes, I'm sure she is," he rested a hand on her shoulder and squeezed it, "We'll just have to be careful, my dear. Our little stunt today was too noticeable."

Belle nodded, thinking if she told him about Regina's threat to lock her up again there wouldn't be anything to be careful about. He'd strangle the Evil Queen in her sleep.

III

Holy. Crap. I can't believe the response I've gotten just from the first chapter. I feel less deserving than Mr. Gold when Belle forgives him. I am just having so much fun with this; it's so fun to play with the characterization of Mrs. Gold, having characters react to her, seeing what would change in the storyline and what wouldn't, coming up with backstory. I have a general plan of where I'm going with this but please, feel free to comment on what you'd like to see. I've got one fairy tale character that I'm going to put in during the ninth chapter, and I'd really like to do more (the more obscure-yet-recognizable the better).

I just realized this towards the end of the chapter, but some people may read Belle's Storybrooke counterpart as "rawz-a-lin". My original intention was for the pronunciation to be "rose-a-leen"; prettier sounding in my opinion and goes better with the "Rose" nickname. But if you're dead determined to call her "rawz-a-lin", I can't track you down and force you to use my way. I'm just stating what I meant without funkying up the spelling of her name.