A date with Gold. I had a date with Gold! I felt school girl excitement bubbling up and had to force it back down. What are you, fifteen? You've been on plenty of dates! But none were with men like Gold. Nobody was quite so interesting, amusing, or just downright sexy as that man was. I had to force myself to focus. I couldn't be thinking the entire time how much I wanted to take a roll in the hay with the man; I had to be an active dinner partner. Time enough for fantasizing later.

I was staring at the dresses I'd picked out to wear tonight. I had three, but I wasn't sure which one to choose. Emma was sitting cross-legged at the head of my bed, trying to help. "Black looks good on you, and it'd go great with your red hair, but Regina wears that color, and we don't want to remind him of Regina when he sees you." I nodded absently, studying the red dress. It fell a little past the knee and showed ample cleavage. Why am I even considering this one? I didn't need him thinking that I was a tramp. I rejected that dress too, which left me with the green one on the left edge of the bed. It fell to mid-thigh and was held up by spaghetti straps. It didn't reveal any cleavage, which is why I bought it in the first place.

I held it against my body and Emma sighed happily. "It looks good on you! It goes well with your hair and it matches your eyes." I smiled at her. "And with how pale I am, it should remind him of vanilla ice cream and apple pie!" She chuckled, and then let out a laugh. "He'll want to eat you up even more than he does already!"

XX

I was standing nervously in front of Mr. Gold. His eyes were appreciatively roaming my body, and when he looked up at my face I saw that his eyes had dilated. I felt a surge of heat and he offered his arm. Holding onto his bicep, which was surprisingly well toned, he led me to the town's fanciest restaurant –La Amour.

I was biting my lip as we were seated and left alone. He gave me a smile. "How is your evening so far, Miss Swan?" I gave him a slightly sardonic smile. "I can't say. It's only barely just begun." I cast a glance at his outfit. Black suit, black shirt, red tie. How did he know I liked that tie? "See something you like, dearie?" My cheeks flushed as I realized I'd been staring. I cleared my throat and decided that he'd already caught me –there was no reason pretending otherwise. "Yes, actually. You look dashing in that suit." A self-satisfied smirk made its way onto his face. "I thought you'd like it. You know, I don't think I've ever had someone use the term 'dashing' while describing me."

I gave him a little smile back –it was actually more of a smirk. "What terms do they usually use? Deal maker? Pawn broker?"

He smiled again. "All of those things, and much worse. Things you don't say in front of a lady."

I laughed. "A lady? Mr. Gold, I can assure you, I am no lady. Of the female species perhaps, but not a delicate flower that cannot hand cursing. I do it myself all the time."

"No, I suppose that you wouldn't be a lady. After all, you are friends with Miss Swan." The waiter brought our wine and waters and then left. I raised my glass in agreement and took a sip of my drink. A small amount of liquid escaped my lips and dribbled out of the corner of my mouth, and made its way down toward my chin. I watched him watch its descent hungrily, and for a moment I could've sworn that he'd leaned forward to lick it from my skin. I wiped it off with a napkin, hoping it hadn't stained my skin. "Did I get it all?" He nodded slowly without removing his eyes from my face, and the waiter returned with our meals at that moment, breaking the spell we'd somehow fallen into.

He set our meals in front of us. I'd gotten pasta and he'd gotten escargot. I bit my lip at the unappetizing sight, and watched as he took a bite. His eyes closed as if it was the most delicious thing he'd ever eaten, and I swallowed hard and took a bite of my own dinner. It was wonderful, of course, but I couldn't focus on the way the food tasted when I was so distracted by him.

I twirled a small amount on my fork and offered it to him, holding up the fork. He bent his head closer and took my fork into his mouth, pulling the food off with his teeth and never once breaking eye contact. He chewed thoughtfully and then swallowed. "Delicious." He murmured. Then he speared some of his and held it up to my mouth. I looked at him, unsure. I'd never had this before. He smiled. "Trust me." My lips parted and he slid the fork into my mouth. I was surprised to find that it wasn't slimy at all, but a little… chewy. And excellently flavored. I swallowed and gave him a shy smile. He smiled back.

The rest of the evening was spent feeding each other from our plates, and drinking wine. The more we were together, and the more we drank; the more I opened up to him, and he to me. He said that he'd had a poor childhood, but one in which he was loved by his parents and elder brothers. He said that his brothers went to war and died, and that when it was his turn to go to war, he ran. They'd caught him in the forest, and dragged him back to the town and beat him, and maimed him so that he could never run again. He'd been clutching at his wine glass during his tale, and I was afraid he'd snap the stem. I gently pried it from his fingers and set it on the table, and then I took his hands into mine. I was shocked to find that I couldn't feel whatever he was feeling. The only other person this had happened with was Emma.

His face was cold, but his eyes were full of agony. I started on my own story, hoping to distract him from his. "I never knew love when I was growing up. My mother was doing a ridiculous number of drugs when she was pregnant with me, and my parents both hated me. Father didn't believe I was his because I had red hair, and Mother hated me for ruining her body. In the beginning it was always just them yelling at each other, or at me. By the time I was three I could make my own meals, do my own laundry, and swear like a sailor. I remember the first time they hit me I was five. I'd just been sent home from school because of what I'd said to another kid in my class. Father was livid, and beat me with his belt until I bled. Mother was too stoned to care.

"Over the years the beatings got worse until father started using knives instead of just fists and feet. One time he cut me so badly that I was taken to the hospital. I've no idea why he bothered, if he wanted me dead so badly. CPS got involved when Father couldn't explain away the cuts and bruises. I was taken from them and given to my mother's sister in my freshman year in high school. I was taught manners, and the Bible, and how to behave like a lady.

"On the day after graduation my father showed up at the door with Mother in tow. They both had guns. They shot my aunt and my twelve year old cousin Albert, and were going to shoot me." I stopped then, taking deep breath and realizing how intoxicated I was. "What happened?" I glanced up, a little startled. I'd forgotten that I was with him, my memories were so painful. "I killed them. I'd been hiding in the kitchen when they killed my family, like a coward. I'd grabbed a knife and marched out into the living room, and stabbed my father in the throat. Then I stabbed him repeatedly in the torso. My mother had turned to run and almost made it to the open door. I threw the knife and it sunk into her heart from behind, somehow getting through all of the ribs.

"The only reason I'm not in jail right now is because the lawyer claimed it was self-defense, and the jury bought it." He was staring at me, a new pain in his eyes. Slowly he pulled off the arm warmers that I had paired with the dress, and made a sound of distress when he saw the scars there. He stood up –a little wobbly, and went to the counter to pay for our meal. I stood up too, surprised that I was more sober than I'd thought I was, and took hold of his arm.

He led me to a beautiful house that I had only seen in passing before. Up the steps and into the house, we didn't even make it past the entry hall before I grabbed him and pulled him to me, crashing lips upon lips. Clothes were quickly shed and he held me out so he could see my skin. Instead of revulsion, his eyes held sorrow. He pulled me back to him and made quick work of kissing every scar, every imperfection. Damn, even drunk off his ass the man was more focused on my pleasure than his own. His lips back on mine he slid into me, and I cried out in pleasure. Our pace was rough and fast, both of us unwilling to slow down. We climaxed at the same time, screaming out the other's name. We collapsed onto the floor together, exhausted, and fell asleep in each other's arms.

XXX

I know it's not the best love scene, but they were both drunk, so it'd be pretty hazy for them too. I tried to make this good though, and long. Next chapter will hopefully be out soon.