A/N: Thank you again for all the support for this story. I promise that it is going to go in a fun direction that most of you won't expect. I don't usually like to address negative things, but I wanted to respond to two issues:

David vs. Hook – I'm not saying one is better than the other. I merely have them being guys and wanting to compete. If you assume you know my verdict on that, then you are probably wrong. I won't say who will win their side bet so as not to ruin it, but let's just say that both of them are going to have a good time and be pleasantly surprised by who purchases them for the day. David is going to be very pleased with the results.

Belle and how she's reacting to Gold's banishment – Since this story is meant to be light and fun, I wasn't going to delve too deeply into this. However, I can see how people might think that she would not be fine with it all. So I added the first part of this chapter to address it. In my story, Belle is upset and questioning herself and her actions, but she's not really close enough to anyone to just let go and cry about it. So she's bottling it up and as this chapter says, she's taken to trying to act like others to hide how insecure she's feeling about everything. But since this is supposed to be fun, we're going to let her cry in private and try her best to put on a brave face for the public.

Ruby turned the closed sign on the door to the diner, waving as the last customer ambled out past the patio and down the sidewalk toward home. It had been a long day with a split shift for her, having opened that morning and worked the breakfast shift only to come back for the dinner service. The rest of the staff had already left for the night and she had shed her uniform a few minutes after Granny had announced it was past her bedtime.

The night was not as cold as Ruby thought it might be for early February and her hoodie was enough to protect her from the slight chill under the star peppered sky. Locking the door behind her, she headed down the sidewalk toward one of her favorite trails for a quick run to clear her head. The next morning would be another early shift – this time to capture photos of each of the volunteers for the auction. But as her grandmother often said, she'd sleep in the afterlife.

Ruby's sneakers slapped against the asphalt with a resounding thud that was somewhat satisfying to her. While she would have preferred to jaunt across the fields in her wolf-like state, she really just needed a quick excursion to stretch her legs and clear her mind. She knew she was unlikely choice to organize an event for the school's foundation, as she had no children or even young people in her family. Still she had volunteered and dragged Belle along with her for the same reason. They needed this. They needed something new and different in their lives that would not be the same commonplace activities that had become of the dregs of their day.

As she rounded the curve in the road that led to the town line, she saw Belle sitting in the long black car that had once been Gold's. Her face was stoic and painfully blank as she seemed to stare off in the darkened distance of the outside world. It was not the first time that Ruby had come across the woman sitting in just this spot. Tapping on the window, she slid into the passenger seat and looked out through the window as if to see the same thing that her friend found so intriguing.

"I thought you would have gone to bed by now," Ruby said, not breaking contact with the sight of the silent road. "We have the first group coming in at 8."

Belle's focus was not pulled either, her eyes squinting ahead in the dim light provided by the car. "I don't sleep much," she said softly.

Ruby nodded, knowing that it was true. While Belle had agreed to help with the event, she was clearly putting on a façade for the people in town. She smiled and spoke as appropriate, doing a passable job at imitating those around her to fit in with the group. But if you brought up Gold to her, she was quick to change the subject and even quicker to avoid talk of her future. "Can I ask what you are doing out here?" Ruby asked, her hand running along the door handle. "Are you expecting him to come back?"

Belle's head turned sharply to face the waitress, her eyes looking defensive as she spoke. "He's gone," she said simply. "I sent him away without his magic, with no money, with…He's gone."

Ruby resisted the urge to say anything to stop the woman's statement, realizing it was one of the only times that she had freely talked about the incident of Rumpelstiltskin's banishment. After announcing that she had forced him over the town line to the small crowd at the diner, Belle had not voluntarily spoken of it again.

"You know what someone said to me today?" Belle asked, sounding as if she was about to change the subject. "They asked if I was doing this auction thing to replace him – to find a new man."

"Even I know you're not," Ruby said consolingly. "What you did was a brave thing. You not only protected yourself but everyone else in this town. It must have hurt like hell, but you did the right thing."

"Did I? Belle asked and then quickly shook the question from her head. "Don't answer that. Yes, it was the right thing. He did bad things and wasn't going to stop. That's why I had to do it. He didn't want to change, not really. He only wanted to not be caught."

Ruby reached out a hand and patted her friend's shoulder with a soft touch. "It being the right thing doesn't make it the easy thing," she pointed out. "You know that I asked you to do this to distract you, but if you don't want to…"

"It's a good cause," Belle said. "I'm glad to help."

Ruby smiled. "Then why don't we drive back to town and get ready for tomorrow. You have to be ready to talk me down because I might go a little nuts with the photos."

Belle's laugh was timid and her cheeks flushed as she leaned back in the seat. "I need a few more minutes here," she said as though admitting to some horrible crime. "Just a few."

Ruby wanted to ask her why. Was it because it was the last place she'd seen or spoke to him? Was it that final connection that seemed too hard to break? Before she could formulate a good query, Belle pointed to a small animal scampering from one side of the road to the other, just beyond the painted line.

"We can see everything that happens on that side," she explained slowly. "I'm not sure that they can see us, but we can see them. I wonder sometimes if he comes back to this area too. If he looks in and sees…"

"Would you want him to do that?" Ruby asked, her mind picturing someone standing there with a wall of magic separating them. "You wouldn't hear him or be able to communicate, would you?"

"No," Belle said. "I don't know. I guess I wonder if he's alright. I wonder if he is repentant. I wonder if he regrets anything."

***AAA***

On Thursday morning, Emma slid in through the closing door of the diner behind her mother and grabbed a chair at one of the few remaining tables left open. Half of Storybrooke seemed to be having breakfast that morning, everyone nibbling on pancakes, bacon, eggs, or toast. The servers were hustling to keep up with the demands for refills on coffee and Emma wasn't even sure who threw a menu down in front of them.

"Looks like Granny's going to make her rent in one day," Mary Margaret said, settling her infant son's carrier next to her at the table. "I don't think I've seen it this busy since news of the last curse breaking."

"Guess we all had the same idea," Emma said, giving a precursory glance at the laminated menu. She always ordered the same thing and Ruby usually brought it to her without delay. However, Ruby was not behind the counter that morning, her long legged strides were kept to the back hallway where Emma caught glimpses of flashing lights. "What is going on back there?"

Her mother glanced over her shoulder and shrugged. "Looks like someone's taking photos," she said. "I just don't know why."

Emma held her hand up to pause her mother and strode around the tables and waiting patrons toward the green hallway in the back where the restrooms and the stairs to the rented rooms stood. Peering around the corner she caught glimpse of several men in a line and Ruby with a digital camera. Will Scarlet was standing on a tape marked spot in front of what appeared to be a sheet hanging from a wire.

"What the hell?" Emma asked no one in particular as she heard Ruby's voice echoing loudly.

"That's not a smile," she told the man in front of her. "Smile like you're trying to flirt with a woman. You know…sexy…" The thief attempted to show his teeth again, grinning at the camera in an awkward fashion. "Does nobody in here know how to be a model?"

Emma bit her lip to keep from laughing at the scene, noticing that behind two of the Merry Men stood Killian and David. Her eyes flew open as she watched them both studying Will and seeming to imitate what they thought Ruby might be meaning with her instructions.

"You shouldn't be back here," Belle said, approaching from the other end of the hallway with a clipboard and pen in her hands. "Private photo shoot."

Emma shook her head and looked back at the shorter woman with curiosity. "For what?"

"Publicity for the auction," Belle told her, looking down at the list of names and making a mark next to one. "We're going to have posters printed and there will be a catalog available that night so you can better choose who to bid on in case you haven't made up your mind."

Emma watched Ruby lower the camera to her hip and sigh. "No, Will, you don't need a fan," she said. "Your hair is too short to go for that windblown look."

Emma pulled Belle's elbow, moving the woman closer to her. "If you guys want to make some real money you could do a calendar. It would be hilarious."

Belle grinned. "We'll keep that in mind for next year," she said, nodding to Ruby when she called for the next victim. "Leroy!" The bearded man stepped forward and shrugged out of his winter coat, asking if he should remove any other clothing as the rest of the crowd groaned at the idea.

Belle's eyes narrowed to tiny slits as she watched Emma lean over to observe Killian nervously combing his hair with his fingers. "I'm not supposed to let you back here, but I can't stop you if you happen to be walking to the restroom when it's Hook's turn in front of the camera. Sound good."

Emma wrinkled her nose and glanced down at the schedule. "I think he might be nervous to have me watching or he might enjoy it too much," she said. "As much as that would be fun, I'm thinking that I'll pass. But you know I might be willing to fix a few parking tickets for anyone who gave me the rejected photos." Without waiting for an answer, Emma turned on her heel and headed back to the table to tell her mother of the scene.

"They are really going all out," Mary Margaret said upon hearing about the photo shoot. "Please tell me they aren't shirtless or something."

"Everyone is clothed," Emma assured her, waving down the waitress for more cinnamon on her recently delivered drink. "Thank God."

Mary Margaret glanced over her shoulder again, unable to see anything now that Little John and two other men were blocking the entryway. "I can't believe the excitement over this," she said. "A while back we tried a talent show to raise money. It was a bust because nobody wanted to pay to hear people sing off key."

"Who can blame them?" Emma asked, grinning down at an image on her cell phone. Belle had sneakily taken a photo of David attempting to show Killian how best to pose. They looked vaguely like two wannabe wrestlers or body builders with their arms bent and muscles flexed preposterously. She handed the phone over to her mother who gasped and then giggled at the sight. "Are you really alright with your husband doing this?" she asked. "What if Kathryn or someone bids on him?"

Mary Margaret handed the phone back and sighed. "He's not doing it for Kathryn or even me," she said. "He's doing this for you."

"Me?" Emma asked, almost dropping her phone. "I can assure you that I don't want to win a romantic drive in the country and movie night with my father."

The other woman laughed before taking a sip of her drink and setting in back in place. "Of course not," she said. "But Killian is in this and you'll be bidding on him. He wants you to see that he's just as fun loving and admired as your boyfriend. It's a pride thing."

"That's ridiculous," Emma protested a little too loudly. Dropping her voice back down, she tried to ignore the other patrons staring at her. "Why are they so competitive?"

Mary Margaret smiled at her daughter's innocence, a word that Emma would never use to describe herself. "David's your father," she said, stating the obvious connection. "He's supposed to be a hero in your eyes and now you have Hook. He knows you're a grown woman and you're in a relationship, but part of him still wants you to look at him like all fathers want with their daughters. He didn't get that when you were growing up so it hurts him a little. Plus he's probably a little jealous of some of the attention Hook gets sometimes. The man does attract attention."

"Usually negative attention," Emma pointed out. "Why be jealous of that? Dad has you, me, a grandson, a baby, and more friends and followers than anyone in this town. I think Killian's a little intimidated by him sometimes since those aren't things he has."

"Men are strange," Mary Margaret said, taking another sip. "It's very animal like. Marking their territory and such."

Emma groaned dramatically. "Are they going to start peeing on the furniture?" She bit angrily into a piece of toast, unable to keep the smile from her face.

"Probably," her mother said. "It may be messy, but I think this is going to be fun to watch."

***AAA***

Emma texted Killian as she ran up the steps to the loft, apologizing that she was running late and asking him for an extra 15 minutes before he came to meet her for their date. Almost missing a step, she chastised herself for trying to multitask. She blew into the loft with a hurried gait, pulling off her boots as she hopped on one foot and shimmied out her jacket. Looking toward the kitchen, she smiled in her son's direction and then frowned as she realized that Henry was at the command of what appeared to be thousands of dollars of computer equipment.

"Where'd you get that, kid?" she asked, sliding a bit in her stocking feet on the floor. "Are you trying to launch a space ship?"

"Mom bought it for me for school," Henry answered, stroking the side of the sleek laptop. "She likes to spend money when she's depressed and turns out that it's perfect for this project that Belle asked me to do for her." He spun the computer around toward her, an Adobe program open and the photographs Ruby had taken were on display.

"You're designing the catalog for the auction?" Emma asked, pausing with her surprised expression not melting away as she saw her father, Killian, and several of the men in town displayed in edited portraits. "What?"

"Belle said it was for charity," he commented. "I'm just editing these question and answers from each of the men." He pointed at a stack of papers. "Some of their answers are strange."

She knew that Killian would be there soon, expecting her to be ready for some sort of musical group that was playing at one of the warehouses by the docks. He'd heard about it from Will, learning that someone was wanting to open a nightclub in the space that had stood vacant for way too long. But she couldn't help but lift the mock up pages and thumb through the glossy photos and grandiose headlines for each man. Her eyes settled on her father, the photo showing him with his trademark jacket and hands fisted at his hips. There was a confident smile about him, his head tilted down as if he was contemplating something serious and listening to every word you said. "Charming Sheriff Promises An Arresting Night," the headline read.

"Is your grandmother here?" she asked Henry, turning in place to look for the woman. Henry pointed in the direction of the lower bedroom. "Mom!"

Mary Margaret emerged, holding a finger to her lips and pointing to the crib where the baby was sleeping. "Don't wake him up," she stage whispered. "What's going on?"

"Have you seen this?" Emma asked, waving the papers in front of her mother's nose. Mary Margaret stepped back to look at the document. "He didn't write this!"

"I should hope not," Emma said, pulling the pages back. "Special talent – sizing you up for handcuffs in less than five seconds. Turn-ons? Kissing a woman back to life and being hit in the head with hard objects. Favorite Hobby riding a horse with his strong thigh muscles and…long naps…" She saw her mother put a hand to her mouth to stifle a groan of disbelief. "It gets worse."

"Belle has Henry typing this in?" she asked, staring down in horror at her grandson. "He's not old enough to understand these things."

Henry remained silent, his gaze transferring between both women like a boy watching a tennis match. His grandmother snatched the papers out of his mother's hands and flipped through them with anger building. "I can't believe Red," she said hotly, her frown growing as she read of friends and loved ones being described in terms that would make most people blush. "My husband is listed as married, but open to new adventures." She made a quotation mark with her hand. "This is sick."

"Belle asked him to put this together," Emma pointed out. "I don't know that Ruby fully…"

"You think Belle wrote," Mary Margaret cleared her throat dramatically, "Captain Hook – A Man Built to Please a Woman on the Sea or the Land?"

"I can't…" Emma said, pushing the papers away as her mother tried to hand them back. "It's like those things you read in Playboy. Not that I ever read Playboy. I don't think anyone's ever actually read it. That's the joke I guess when people say they enjoy it for the articles." She tried to concentrate on what her mother was reading, but rather than get angry with Killian or Ruby, she found herself laughing at what was supposed to be this sensuous tease to get women to bid on him. "Oh God…I just sounded like Elsa's sister, Anna."

"His turn-ons include leather and chains," the brunette continued to read in a fake voice to make a point. "He enjoys rocking the boat – wink, wink."

"That's just bad writing," Emma said, shaking her head to the point that her blonde hair cascaded out of its clip. "Killian wouldn't say it that way. He'd use three or four syllable words that you'd need a dictionary to translate."

"Favorite hobby – knife and hook play," her mother recited, eyes wide and wild as she scanned the rest of the questions. "You'd be interested to know he is single and searching for that special sea worthy woman."

Emma's laughter broke though. "I'm going to go get ready," she said. "Henry, tell Belle that you're too young to finish this project."

Killian arrived a few minutes later and Emma was sure that her mother or son would mention the catalog, but thankfully they didn't. Instead they resorted to make faces and mime certain actions behind him. Shooting a glare at Henry, she told him that helping Belle or not, he was expected in bed by his normal time.

"I've just got to get this online," he said, typing in a few codes and waving off his grandmother's attempts to edit the text. Emma glowered with dread.

***AAA***

Emma hated that sometimes her mind would wander at the most inopportune moments. For instance, when she stood in the stairwell at Granny's, her arms snaked around Killian's shoulders and his hand splayed on her hip. She should have been thinking of him or at least the excuse she would give of why she wasn't at home in her own bed. But no. Her mind was running with thoughts of the light bulb overhead that needed to be changed and how could someone balance a ladder on the stairs to take care of that task.

Her groan of frustration that she could not just enjoy the moment was interpreted by him as an invitation that he eagerly accepted. Thankfully the lighting and ladder situation left her thoughts as his lips brushed hers tasting, experimenting. When she was sure she would die from anticipation, he claimed her more fully, pulling at her lips with long, slow, torturous tugs. She moaned deep in her throat and melted into him.

She was leaning into him, almost losing her balance on the uneven stairs that led to his room. He let out a slow, agonized groan as he sank his fingers into her hip, holding her to him as his tongue reached out to sweep inside her mouth. She trembled when she felt his tongue, a quake of longing and awakening. She touched her own tongue to his, met him, tangled with him, laved and played. It was a slow, sensuous fall that she was taking, drowning in sensations that were like sun warmed silk.

Gently, he pulled away from her, carefully easing his mouth from hers, keeping their bodies firmly adhered as he gentled then stopped the kiss. Tenderly, he smoothed her hair from her cheek, his breathing harsh as he looked down at her face. He saw her soft, hazy look and smiled. "I'd invite you in, but I know you would reject such a summons," he said.

Her own breathing was labored as she tried to remember why she would reject him. "Henry's at home tonight," she said, more to remind herself than him. "I've already been out too late."

He nodded his acceptance. "One of these days," he mumbled, a teasing smile on his lips.

She bit her lip, still not letting go of him and letting him retreat into the solitude. "Maybe for a few minutes," she said hesitantly. "I mean I'm already running late. What's a few more minutes?"

He didn't question her tentativeness, moving his hand to hers and pulling her along with him up the final few stairs. She'd been to his door before, knew the route of the dimly lit hallway past the old fashioned rooms that smelled of potpourri and dried flowers. She'd lived in the room just down from his before he even came to town, making it her home for a little while before she had been forced to leave.

He was smiling widely, his eyes trained on her and vice versa as the practically stumbled down the hallway without regard for the table adorning one wall or the umbrella stand next to the window. She worried for a minute that they might wake up the other residents after she stubbed her foot against the metal trashcan. Then he stopped short.

"What the hell is all that?" Emma asked, looking at the items outside his door. There were two flower arrangements, a few envelopes taped to the door, a bottle of wine and another of rum, and something that looked like a leather whip. "Killian?"

He approached it slowly, cautiously reaching his hand out as if it might be some sort of trap. She didn't ask his permission and followed, pulling off the first of the envelopes. A woman's bubbly and looping handwriting was scrawled on the page. Emma's eyebrows raised with inquisitiveness as she read first that note and then some of the others. Some of them were sweet and filled with hope that they would be the winner of him at the auction. Others were suggestive and some were down right raunchy. Emma had to hold her hand over her mouth to stop from waking the hallway when she found a picture of a mostly naked woman. "Should I be worried?" Emma asked when Killian held up one of the gifts.

He pulled her into his room, carrying in the gifts and placing them on the tall dresser by the door. "I've seen my share of wanton women before," he admitted. "Though most were that way to earn a living not to win anyone's heart."

Emma flashed the snapshot of the woman in front of his nose. "She's not after your heart," Emma said. "She's after something, but it ain't your heart."

He chuckled, pulling the photo from her hand and dropped it behind himself. "You're the only one I want to win my heart," he said. "Even if you don't bid the most for me."

***AAA***

Emma had some experience coming back late to the loft, even having learned which floorboards and steps to avoid in preventing anyone from being awoken by her entry. When the baby was still waking her parents up in the middle of the night for feedings and diaper changes, Emma had sometimes found one or both of them awake and ready to talk. It had been a while since that was a common occurrence so she was surprised to see her mother flipping through the dog eared copy of a book.

"Have a good time?" her mother asked, closing the book as Emma stepped into the low light of the living room. Emma was never sure how to answer that question, as this woman was her mother despite their lacking age difference. Did she want to hear about the longing in Emma to do more than just kiss her boyfriend? Did she want to know that Emma was beginning to run out of excuses? Did she want to know that the taste of Killian was something that she reveled in long after they said good night? Did she want to know that she had worn higher necked sweaters for the past few days because the bite marks and others had been more visible after a certain make out session? Did mothers and daughters talk about that stuff? Emma didn't know.

"What are you doing up?" Emma asked, opting to answer a question with a question.

"It's been busy around here," Mary Margaret said with a sigh.

Emma glanced toward the bedroom where she could see the outline of her father through the curtains that covered the doorway. "The baby?"

"No," her mother answered, presenting her hand to a stack of gifts much like Killian's entryway. "Henry got the website going and it seems that the women of Storybrooke are looking to…" she lifted the card of a tiny bouquet of flowers, "sample the merchandise before everyone gets their hands on it."

There was a flash of sympathy in Emma's eyes when her mother lifted a pair of furry handcuffs. "Three pair of these were delivered tonight," the brunette said. "I don't even know where you can buy these in Storybrooke."

"They know he's married to you," Emma protested. "They can't think…"

Her mother arched an eyebrow and tipped her head as if to say she couldn't believe her daughter was being that naïve. "One card said that I was welcome to watch. Seems that according to another one, they've all been waiting a long time for a real family man."

Emma groaned and sank down into the plush chair by the window. "The women in this town have gone too far," she said. "Killian's gifts included a whip. I don't even want to think…"

"Killian and David can handle a little of this, but think about some of the others," her mother said. "Think about Archie? Imagine his face if he gets handcuffs or a whip. He'll need therapy and he's the only therapist in this town."

"You think that Killian and Dad can handle this?" Emma asked, her hand reached into her jacket and came back with a now crumpled photo of the partially naked woman. "You're married to dad, but what about Killian. These women think it's open season on him."

"Emma," her mother lowering her tone, "you can't think that Hook would be interested in such desperate attempts? He and David are too busy competing with each other to be anything but flattered by the attention."

Since everyone has been so great with reviews and excitement about this fic, I thought I'd give you some teases about the next chapter. Don't read them if you don't want to know.

Coming up in the next chapter - David and Killian get a little more attention than just gifts from the women of Storybrooke. Emma and Snow decide how to handle their men and the auction. Ruby and Belle go to Regina for some help with the volunteers' runway walks for the auction.