Belle has an unusual pregnancy craving.

It had been two months since they'd come to the startling realization that Belle was carrying Rumple's child, and things had been increasingly awkward between them ever since.

Well, awkward wasn't quite the right word. But there was a tension there that hadn't been there before, like they were suddenly very aware of every minimal contact that happened between them. Belle never realized how prone she was to touching him, a brush against his shoulder when she passed by the spinning wheel, or casually grabbing his hand when he went into one of his showy flourishes as they talked.

Now every touch that happened between them called to mind forgotten intimacies, the proof of which was Belle's ever-expanding belly. If only they could remember! Belle couldn't imagine that knowing exactly what had led to this state could be any worse than the forgetting. If they remembered, perhaps they'd be past this initial awkwardness. Belle didn't pretend to know much about what went on between a man and a woman behind closed doors, but she imagined it would be hard for Rumple to flinch away from her touch after being cradled in her body.

Belle was barely showing, a slight curve to her usually flat stomach the only indication that she was pregnant at all. But she felt pregnant. Every day her body seemed less and less her own, like she was sharing it with some alien entity.

Despite the unusual circumstances between them, Rumple had proved to be an extremely attentive expectant father. The food cravings had started up early on, and Rumple, bless him, had been only too happy to scour the realms to find whatever struck her fancy. One night, she'd woken in the wee hours with an insatiable craving for pineapple, a delicacy she'd only enjoyed once in her entire life when a visitor from the East had brought them to her father's castle. Rumple had disappeared immediately, arriving back an hour later with the fruit.

It was times like that Belle could almost pretend this was a normal pregnancy – that the father of her child loved her and was happy to be sharing this magical time with her. But then she'd catch sight of Rumple's strained face, his lips settled in a grim line and the creases around his eyes a little too tight. He wasn't happy, and it was making Belle miserable, no matter how many exotic fruits he brought her or how he waited on her hand and foot.

But it wasn't food cravings that had Belle tossing and turning in her bed one hot summer night, one hand pressed against her stomach willing her body to cooperate with her.

She squeezed her eyes shut, pressing her head back against the pillows trying to find sleep. Gods knew she was exhausted enough these days, even when she had a decent night's sleep.

But sleep evaded her, despite the late hour. She felt hot all over, a slight prickle under her skin and a heavy feeling in her lower belly that she thought had nothing to do with the baby. She felt irritable, and overly sensitive, like her body was a live wire sparking at every turn.

On impulse, she snaked a hand down between her legs, applying pressure to where she felt most sensitive.

"Oh!" she let out a breathy moan at the contact. She'd explored her body before, under cover of darkness when she was a girl in her father's castle. She'd always been too afraid, mindful of her precious maidenhead, to really be bold in her exploration. But now she was expecting a child, that ship had sailed.

She rubbed her hand against herself, through the fabric of her nightgown letting out a shocked sound at the tingling feeling that radiated from her core.

Relieved at the realization of what exactly she was craving, Belle grew bolder still, hiking her nightgown up over her hips and rubbing her fingers against herself. She kept at it for a few minutes, but it was just driving her more insane, no release forthcoming. With a sigh she drew her hand away, collapsing back against the pillows disheartened. It appeared whatever her body was craving, she was ill equipped to handle it.

She lay there for a moment, willing her breathing to slow down and relax into sleep. When it didn't happen, she threw the covers off herself. She had a feeling this was an itch that required a particular scratch.

Pulling a shawl on over her nightdress she slipped out into the hallway, making her way to Rumplestiltskin's tower room. He was willing to satisfy all her other cravings, she only hoped he'd be amenable to this one.

Rumplestiltskin found himself at his wheel in the dead of night. It was a common occurrence these days. Sleep had always evaded him, several lifetimes worth of regret hardly a boon for a restful night. But ever since his little maid had turned up pregnant, and with his child, he'd barely slept a wink.

He'd ruined her, utterly and completely, crossing a line he didn't even know he'd established. Until the day his makeshift magical paternity test had revealed the truth, he'd never given thought to defiling a virgin. Well, that wasn't true. He'd given it plenty of thought ever since Belle took up residence in his castle. But until now he'd been able to restrain himself, his lewd thoughts kept in the back of his mind where they belonged.

He still had no idea how this had all come to be. He'd long admired her beauty and courage, found himself watching her as she flitted about his castle like a bright ray of sunshine invading his dusty life. But he'd never even entertained the idea of acting on his baser urges. He couldn't imagine what might have changed. But he hoped, for Belle's sake, that they never remembered. It was traumatizing enough for the poor girl to carry a monster's child. At least she had no memory of the conception.

Despite himself, a small part of him reveled in the idea of Belle carrying his child. He'd be a papa again! For the first time in centuries, he'd have a child to protect and love as only a father could. He was also male enough to appreciate the changes pregnancy had wrought on Belle's body. Her breasts were fuller, her stomach plumping with his seed. She'd never been more beautiful to him, more enticing.

And so he'd distanced himself from her as best he could. He was still available at her beck and call to soothe any ache, retrieve any food, do anything he could to lessen her suffering. But he tried to keep a respectable distance between them at all times, allowing his magic to massage her tired muscles rather than his hands. He could barely contain himself when their fingers brushed across the tea service. He'd likely suffer a stroke if he had the chance to rub his hands all over her body.

So yes, to his utter mortification, some part of him was enjoying this pregnancy. But the much larger part of him was horrified. In all honesty, he'd been prepared to let Belle go. He'd made peace with the fact that he had feelings for his little maid. He knew she could never feel similarly, and so he'd made a decision. He would send her back to her father, excuse her from their deal for good. She could go back to her family, marry a knight or a prince, someone worthy of her. She would have a good life, a happy life. And he would find solace in the knowledge that he'd done right by her, done the selfless thing for once in his miserable life.

Now that pretty fantasy was well and truly fucked. She might have been welcomed back by her people as a hero if she'd arrived home in tact. Her father could have found a good match for her. But now she was carrying his bastard, the spawn of the Dark One. She'd never be accepted back into the fold now. He'd destroyed her every chance for happiness.

And that was what tempered every smile he gave her, strained the sparse words exchanged between them. He loved her, and he had ruined her just as he ruined everything he cared for. She was well and truly bound to him. Forever.

His maudlin thoughts were interrupted by a sharp knock on the door of his tower room.

He spun around from his spinning wheel, standing just as the door opened and Belle peeked her head in.

"Yes?" he asked her, standing awkwardly in the middle of his laboratory.

"I'm sorry to bother you so late," Belle said as she pushed the door open further, walking into the room to stand in front of him. "But I've found myself quite unable to sleep."

She did look flushed, the skin of her cheeks even pinker than usual spreading down tantalizingly across her chest exposed by her flimsy nightgown. That line of thought was dangerous.

"What is it?" he asked, hands flitting about his sides uselessly. "Is there something wrong with the baby?"

"No," Belle answered, staring at him oddly.

"Do you have another craving, my dear?" he prompted. "Can I fetch you anything?"

"No," Belle said again. "I mean there's nothing you can fetch me, though I do have a craving of a sort."

"Anything, darling," he insisted. "Name it and it's yours."

Belle bit her lip in a way that went straight to his groin. Rumplestiltskin crossed his hands in front of himself, mortified at his body's reaction to her discomfort.

She mumbled something under her breath then, staring down at her bare feet.

"What was that, dear?"

"You," she all but whispered.

Rumple cocked an eyebrow, confused. "Yes, what would you have me do?" he asked again, eager to run off on some errand and be out of her enticing presence. The shawl around her shoulders was doing little to mask the thin white fabric of her nightgown, her pale skin clearly visible beneath the cloth.

"No, you don't understand," she said miserably. "You. You're the craving."

If it were possible, her cheeks flushed even redder, her face starting to resemble a strawberry.

Rumplestiltskin just stood there sure he'd misunderstood something, his mouth gaping open like a fish out of water.

"Excuse me?" he croaked.

"I'm aching," she said nervously. "I wouldn't ask, but I'm miserable. I feel like I'm crawling out of my own skin."

Rumple could feel his eyes widening, his breath coming out in stuttering gasps. Was she actually asking for what he thought she was asking for?

"Have you tried…soothing the ache on your own?" he asked awkwardly, hardly daring to believe he was having this conversation with Belle of all people.

"Don't you think I tried that?" she exclaimed, exasperatedly. "That was the first thing I did. It didn't work and I'm desperate here, Rumple!"

She'd tried that already. Well that was just great, now he had that mental image to contend with, Belle with her hands buried between her thighs gasping out in pleasure. His trousers were becoming unbearably tight.

And oh gods did he want to believe her, that she wanted him, that she needed him to find her release. But she didn't, not truly. It was the pregnancy wreaking havoc on her body, nothing more.

"You don't want me, sweetheart," he said, backing away and placing his wheel between them. "It's the hormones. Your body is going through…changes in preparation for the baby, nothing more."

"Do you think I don't know my own mind?" Belle snapped at him. This wasn't going well.

"Of course not, dear," he tried to placate her. "I just don't want you to do something we'll regret come morning."

Belle actually rolled her eyes at him. "The only thing I'm going to regret is not getting any sleep tonight because you refuse to do something you've obviously already done!"

"Something you don't remember," he retorted. "You're an innocent, Belle."

"No I'm not!" she yelled back, gesticulating at her stomach.

Rumplestiltskin sighed, dropping his head down against the warm wood of his wheel. If someone had told him two months ago that he'd be arguing with his maid over whether or not he should fuck her, he'd have turned that person into a snail and stepped on them.

"Please," she whispered, her voice coming from right next to him. Rumple jumped back at her sudden closeness. "I need something."

And that was the root of the problem. She needed something, not him, never him. She needed release to soothe her own aching body. She didn't want him, and to pretend she did would be to take advantage of Belle in the worst possible way. But maybe he could brew her a potion...

Before he could even finish that thought Belle had taken his hand from where it gripped the wood of his wheel and placed it softly against her chest, cupping one of her full breasts. Rumple let out a sound like a wounded animal before he flinched away, pulling his hand back as though her flesh had burned him and almost stumbling over his own feet in the process. He backed away from her, putting as much distance between them as possible until his back came in contact with one of his work tables, halting his progress.

Belle stared at him for a long moment, her bottom lip quivering.

"Oh gods, I'm such an idiot!" she whispered harshly, her face suddenly horrified.

"What?" he asked frantically. "No, of course you're not."

"You said I was beautiful once," she continued. "But that was months ago. I'm a cow now. How could you ever want me like this."

Rumple stared at her in horror. How on earth had she come to that ridiculous conclusion?

"And now I'm forcing myself on you when you've been so good to me," she finished feebly.

"Sweetheart, I -"

"Do you think I'm ugly?" she interrupted tearfully. And if that wasn't the most absurd question he'd ever been asked he'd don one of Regina's gowns and start calling himself the Evil Queen.

Rumplestiltskin felt as though something was breaking inside him. Belle was the most gorgeous creature he'd ever seen, he couldn't have her thinking he didn't desire her, no matter how much easier that might make things. Before he could even consider what he was going to say, the words came pouring out of him.

"Are you bloody insane?" he cried. "I can't be in your presence for more than five minutes at a time because of what you do to me. Why do you think I'm so eager to run errands for you? Not that I wouldn't be your servant in all ways anyway, but the very sight of you drives me mad. You've always been lovely, but you grow in beauty every day. The fact that I did that to you, that my child is growing inside of you, is the single most maddeningly erotic thing I've ever been faced with!"

Belle looked up at him, her teary eyes wide.

"You - you do want me?" she asked in a small voice, as if she could hardly believe his words.

"Of course I want you!" he replied miserably. "How could I not want you? I want you more than I've ever wanted anything in all my three hundred years. And that's why you must leave, immediately, before we do something we'll regret."

Belle was shaking her head, a small smile playing on her lips. "I want you too, Rumple, don't you see?"

Rumplestiltskin let out a ragged sob, her words so precious to him and so cutting in their dishonesty. Not that he thought Belle was lying. No, she was just mistaken, the hormones raging in her body telling her she wanted something neither her heart nor mind would be able to stomach come morning.

He held his hands up, warding her off and trying to put even more distance between them. If he wasn't careful, his pregnant maid was going to drive him right out of his castle.

"Rumplestiltskin, I -"

"No," he interrupted her. "Please. Don't say anything you wouldn't say if you weren't carrying my child."

Belle looked suddenly angry again. "I'm pregnant, Rumplestiltskin, not brain damaged!"

That brought him up short, his hands dropping to his sides like stones.

"I want you," she continued. "Not just anyone, you! Even if I weren't pregnant I'd want you, though perhaps I'd be less forceful about it. I've felt this way for months. I'm heartbroken that I had you and can't remember. For gods sake, if you want me and I want you, why have we been dancing around each other for months, making ourselves miserable?"

"You've been miserable?" he asked, his heart plummeting. He'd been running himself ragged these past months trying to ensure Belle had everything her heart could ever desire. It appeared he'd failed her despite his best efforts.

"How could I be anything but when you seemed so sad?" she replied, walking toward him once more. This time, he restrained himself from running away. "You've seemed so miserable at the prospect of this child. I know you put on a brave face for me, but I can see you're not happy about this."

"Oh, sweetheart," he breathed, cupping her cheek with his scaled hand. "I am ecstatic about this child. I've been miserable on your behalf. You're bound to me now in ways you can't fully fathom."

Belle's lips quirked up in the beginnings of a smile. "I was always bound to you. I promised you forever, remember?"

Of course he remembered. That brave girl in a golden ball gown, offering herself up to a demon to save her kingdom. He'd never been more intrigued by anyone in his long life. But even then he hadn't meant forever. At the time, he'd assumed he'd grow tired of the girl living in his castle and send her on her way. Now he knew the opposite was true. He would have sent her home because he cared too much.

He couldn't tell her that. Even if her hormone addled body craved his, she could never truly care for him in return. And to let her know how close she'd been to freedom now would just be cruel. She would never see her father again. She would spend her days the ruined mistress of darkness.

"Aye," he half-heartedly agreed. "So you did."

"So you see," Belle smirked, reaching out to take his hand in her much smaller one. "We could reach a mutually beneficial compromise here. You want me, and I need you."

He smiled in spite of himself. They were similar in some small ways, using their wits to get what they wanted. Maybe he could do this small thing for her after all.

With a wave of his hand a plush divan was nestled in the corner of his tower room. He made his way over to it, motioning for Belle to follow him.

"Come here, dearest," he said, sitting down on the new piece of furniture.

She bit her lip, a blush blooming on her cheeks, but didn't hesitate to join him. He reached out tentatively and grasped her by her hips, spinning her to face away from him and easing her back to sit on his lap, straddling his thighs. This would be easier for her if she didn't have to see him. Then she could pretend he was the handsome hero she so deserved, not a coward and a villain.

"What are you doing?" she asked, her voice confused. She was so innocent, so pure. He was a monster for defiling her.

"Just relax, sweetheart," he whispered against her ear, breath stirring her curls. He pushed her hair away from her neck, slowly planting kisses along her throat. Belle sighed happily and leaned back into him. He allowed his hands to roam, moving from her hips, up over her waist, neatly circumventing her breasts and back down. He would attempt to do this with as little insult to her person as possible.

Belle seemed to be soothed by his kisses and caresses, positively melting against him. He couldn't say the same for himself. He was keenly aware of the effect Belle's body was having on his, adjusting himself so as not to molest her with evidence of his desire.

When he felt she was sufficiently relaxed, his hand moved to the hem of her nightgown, slowly pulling it up over her legs, lightly stroking the soft skin left uncovered in its wake.

"Tell me to stop and I will," he whispered against her neck as his hand trailed higher, pulling her skirts up over her knees to mid thigh.

"Don't you dare stop," Belle gasped.

As soon as her dress was pulled high enough, Rumple slipped a hand under her skirt, steeling himself for the rejection he was sure was imminent. But Belle made no move to dislodge him, a slight tensing of her muscles the only indication that she'd even noticed his questing hand. He stroked the skin of her thighs hesitantly, giving her time to change her mind, to jump up and run from the room. He wouldn't blame her in the least. But apparently her need is greater than her rational mind, for she just pressed her body back against his more firmly, the movement causing his tight leather pants to feel even more restricting.

Belle held her breath as his hand moved toward its final destination. When his fingers finally brushed against the curls nestled between her thighs, she released the breath in a soft whimper. It's music to Rumplestiltskin's ears.

He parted her folds, gently, running his fingers through the moisture pooled there. She's so wet, almost dripping, the moist heat of her causing his stiff prick to become impossibly harder. There's nothing for it now. Belle has to feel it pressing against her delicious little backside, though as innocent as she is she may not realize what it is. He clings to that idea with both hands.

He ran his fingers through her heat, moving her wetness to her outer lips before teasing the little bud at the apex of her sex. Belle shuddered and gasped at that.

"Again," she pleaded softly.

With a small smile, Rumple pushed one finger deeper into her, stroking in and out as his thumb came up to press against her clit.

"How is that, my sweet?" he couldn't help whispering in her ear.

"Good," Belle gasped. "So good."

After a moment, he added a second finger, probing in and out of her, curling against her inner walls. Belle's eyes slammed shut as her head fell back against his shoulder. He couldn't resist any longer, mouthing at her neck, pulling the lobe of her delicate ear into his mouth and sucking hard. The hand not occupied under her skirts moved of its own accord, coming up to knead her breast, rolling the hardened bud of her nipple under his flat palm.

"Yes, Rumple," she cried. "Please..."

Her hips rocked against his hand as his fingers worked their magic, moving deeper within her as he increased the pressure against her clit. Suddenly her inner muscles closed around his fingers like a vice, grasping at him greedily as Belle tensed all over. She came hard, her body jerking against his, her bottom rubbing against his straining leather until he exploded within his trousers, biting down on her shoulder to muffle his own orgasm.

Belle leaned her head back against him, her breath coming in shuddering gasps as her body was still wracked with aftershocks. Rumple pressed a kiss to her shoulder, an apology. He hadn't meant to let himself get carried away and now he's stuck with a mess in his pants and the knowledge of just how sweet his caretaker's body really is.

"That's better," Belle gasped when she was finally able to speak. "Thank you."

A few moments later she was drowsing lightly, still seated across his thighs, head cradled on his shoulder. In a puff of purple magic, Rumple transported them to her bedroom, laying her down against her bed and drawing the covers up over her.

He needed to change, needed to unwind, needed to berate himself for succumbing to his own lust. But the sight of Belle tucked up, sleeping sweetly is too much for him. He bent over her bed, pressing a chaste kiss to her forehead.

"Goodnight, sweetheart," he whispered, petting the sweaty curls back from her face.

Belle's eyes fluttered open sleepily.

"Stay with me?" she begged, drowsily.

She's so beautiful, sweaty and sated and spent, that he cannot refuse her.

Rumplestiltskin nodded. With a wave of magic his clothes were clean once more, and he climbed on the bed on top of the covers.

He would stay only until she fell asleep. He could give her that at least. A large and uncontrollable part of him wanted nothing more than to snuggle up next to Belle and hold her for as long as she would let him. Because if Rumplestiltskin knew anything, it was that happiness was fleeting. She most likely would not welcome his touch again, and he would enjoy it while he could.