A/N: Thank you for the feedback on the previous chapter - I really appreciate it. Now, after the drunkeness comes the hangover, right?

(For disclaimer, etc. - see chapter 1)

Chapter 7

Rose woke with a pounding in her head and a terrible sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. It was as if she had been turned inside out and then returned to the right way over night, at least that was how it felt. As she laid there with her eyes tight shut against the morning light that would creep in through the gap in the curtains, Rose tried to think what had happened. She had a vague memory in the back of her mind of downing bright coloured drinks at a bar, after that things got very hazy.

Cracking open one eye, Rose's breath hitched in her throat when she realised she was not at home. She was in a double bed in an unfamiliar room and a quick check proved she was all but naked. Panic started to set in then, as her mind raced. She tried to remember the exact events of yesterday, but every attempt she made had her head pounding harder. Bile rose in her throat, and yet she was sure she could not be sick.

"I was ill?" she said softly to herself, recalling the scene in the bar when she ran to the bathroom at top speed.

After that, she now remembered walking home with someone, with a man. Rose frowned hard and forced her mind to recall the events clearly. She felt a hand at her waist turning her towards the door, then the kitchen in Gold's house. Sitting on the edge of the table, he joined her, or he didn't... she wasn't sure. His name was Anthony and she was here to keep the house clean. Without her the place would be filthy; the house, a castle. Rose was all the more confused as memories seemed to swirl together, half her own and half some kind of dream world.

"Never drink again," she muttered, covering her eyes with one hand, but still a million pictures danced and muddled behind her lids.

Gold sat at a table, but when she walked around him, it was something else, like a wheel perhaps. He looked back at her and smiled, then he was in her face screaming. Rose would have reeled back were she not already lying down. It had to be a dream. First had come the drinking and the sickness, and after her employer brought her home and let her sleep off her alcohol intake, she must have dreamt about him. It was the only reasonable explanation, Rose decided.

In any case, it couldn't matter right now. Thinking too hard about what had been and what was not only made Rose's head bang all the more. She had to figure out where she went from here. If she was at Mr Gold's house, she had to wonder if he was here too. He might appear at any moment or he might have left for his shop already. Oh, she dreaded facing him if he was still here. What a fool she must have made of herself last night in her drunken state.

Rose took a deep breath and forced herself to sit up. The room spun a little but she soon swallowed back the dizziness and sickness that hit her in tandem. She looked towards her dress hung over the chair and then across the room. There was a frown on her delicate features as she realised there was a piece of paper under the edge of the closed door. Hopping carefully out of bed and wrapping herself completely in the comforter, Rose moved to investigate. The paper was a note bearing her name in Gold's flowing hand, which she swiftly opened. Her eyes took a moment to focus and then a smile came to her lips.

He couldn't be serious, of course. Rose was certain he was joking when he hoped she recovered quickly and explained that breakfast was waiting outside the door. He had even expressed concern for her health and allowed her to skip work today if she wasn't feeling up to it.

"He's lost his mind," she said to herself as she reached for the door knob and pulled.

Sure enough, there in the hallway was a tray with eggs and toast all being kept warm by a glass cover, a pot of coffee and a jug of juice, with a cup to drink from. To finish it all off was a small vase in the centre holding a single red rose. The woman who shared her name with the flower plucked the bloom from its place and breathed in the sweet scent. A chuckle of laughter escaped her lips at how ridiculous and yet lovely this whole situation was.

Who knew that dear Anthony Gold could be so kind? The world saw a monster, a cold-hearted leech, that put money above all people and things. Rose was sure that was untrue. There were times he could be so sweet, and this morning was a case in point. She was also all too aware that there was many a man who might have taken advantage of her state of being last night.

Rose took her breakfast tray back into the bedroom and closed the door. Despite the amount of things she had forgotten or that had become confused inside her mind, she did know nothing inappropriate had happened between herself and her employer. She had said things she shouldn't, pushed some boundaries, of that she was certain. Not once had Gold used her weakened body or addled mind against her. He hadn't laid a hand on her, save to assist her walking home. Nothing inappropriate at all, not even a suggestion of it.

It confused Rose to realise she was almost disappointed. Her mind raced back to the bar last night and immediately she cursed Ruby for putting ideas into her head. She was sure she had never thought of Mr Gold as anything but her employer before then. Of course he was always handsome, enticingly powerful, mysteriously attractive in some strange way she couldn't entirely quantify. Perhaps she did have her own ideas about him before Ruby spoke up, but Rose had not thought on them so seriously until now.

"Its the hangover," she told herself, shaking her head, and immediately wishing she hadn't when the world swirled in and out of focus.

She needed to eat, drink her coffee, and rest her head a while longer. Apparently there was little else for her to do all day, if she was going to take Gold's note seriously. He would pay her and yet she did not have to work if she was not feeling up to it. Rose half wondered if he hadn't partaken of far too many drinks himself last night!


Anthony Gold checked his pocket watch for the fourth time in as many minutes. It was ridiculous, he knew perfectly well that it was a little past midday, as his watch and several clocks around his shop had already advised. The trouble of it was that knowing the time made no difference. Whilst he could conjure up in his mind a picture of his darling Rose, imagine quite easily what household task she might be performing on any normal day, today was different.

She would wonder at the note he left, he was sure. Honestly, Gold wondered himself what he had been thinking of when he wrote it. The poor girl would wake and wonder where she was, probably feeling as bad if not worse than she had the night before. To add to her confusion, she would find his note beneath the door telling her to take some rest, eat the breakfast he himself had prepared for her, and relax. Poor Rose would be completely baffled by his change in behaviour, he was sure, especially since she probably remembered little of her exploits last night.

Gold closed his eyes and pushed out the images that danced though his mind then. Exploits was hardly the word to be used, since Rose's behaviour had been hardly less than appropriate. She talked to him in a way she would not normally, and he allowed it because she was drunk and vulnerable at the same time. He told her his given name, at least the one he had here, and she looked like a proud child to have learnt it. She had been so close, so achingly close, he could feel her sweet breath on his face and feel the heat of her body close to his own. God, the things he could have said and done, and she might even have let him in such a state. It did not bear thinking of now, for it would be the undoing of him, Gold knew. Though he was a man here, flesh and blood, the Dark One lived within, buried not so deep inside. Rose knew nothing of what that monster was capable of, not even as much as she had known when she was Belle.

The chimes jingled suddenly as the front door opened, snapping Gold from a veritable daze. He looked up quickly, almost hoping it was a customer who might take his mind off other things for a while. It was both a pleasure and a damned nuisance to realise his visitor was the very angel that haunted his every moment, both sleeping and awake.

"Miss French," he greeted her politely. "Feeling better I see," he noted with a smile as she came over to the counter with her basket on her arm.

"I am, thank you," she agreed, with a smile that slipped a little when she continued. "I, er... I don't remember all of last night clearly," she admitted, feeling foolish, "but I do know that you must've taken good care of me. Thank you, Mr Gold," she said sincerely, putting a hand to his arm to ensure she had his full attention.

He had almost looked as if he wanted to run away from her. Rose found that strange in itself, for surely it was everyone else who wanted to bolt at the sight of him, not the other way around. It made her feel certain she had said or done something dreadful last night to make him feel this way, and yet he had been so kind. It didn't make sense.

"You're quite welcome, Miss French," he told her, patting her hand lightly before extracting his arm from her light grip. "Really, no need to make a fuss, dear. I was only ensuring the health and safety of an employee," he told her, turning towards the curtains that hid his office.

"About my being your employee," she said behind him, his hand stalling at the edge of the material that he would hide behind given half the chance. "I was thinking, what you said about my staying on longer to clear the interest on Papa's debt," she continued, though she was talking entirely to Gold's back still. "I will do it, if you still want me."

The man who was once Rumpelstiltskin bit his lip so hard it almost bled. If he still wanted her? She had no idea, and there was no way he could ever tell her, no matter how it was killing him to live in silence these days.

"That would be... agreeable," he told her, looking back over his shoulder just briefly, and then more readily when he realised she had moved.

"I was wondering though, about my work," Rose went on as she turned circles in the open space of the shop, taking in each and every item in her path. "I don't mind the housework but there isn't always enough to do to properly fill a week. I end up repeating tasks that probably don't need doing so often," she admitted. "You hardly get your money's worth that way."

"And you had an alternative suggestion?" Gold checked, quick with his question before some other less-delicate words forced their way through his lips.

"Well, I do love this shop," she admitted with a girlish smile as she faced him again. "Everything in it is so fascinating. Each item with a story as to where it came from, who made it or sold it or bought it," she went on with a hint of giddy laughter in her voice. "You must need help here too? With inventory or just to watch over the place when you have other things to attend to?" she suggested.

Gold had to admit, if only to himself, that he wouldn't mind her being here. Still, sharing space and time with his dearest Rose both at home and at work, it might prove complicated. Already he felt he was losing his grip on his control and his sanity combined. If she continued in her current ways, so sweet and almost flirty with him, it could prove a real challenge. Of course, Rumpelstiltskin never backed down from a challenge, and he and Gold were one and the same.

"You make an excellent suggestion, Miss French," he nodded once, leaning heavily on the counter top. "I shall definitely consider it."

She seemed pleased enough, if the beautiful smile on her lips was anything to go by. With a further thanks for his kindness to her today, she promised she would still complete her days duties and was going to do so right now. Rose was almost to the door when he bid her farewell, only to have her turn and walk back into the shop. He raised an eyebrow at her sudden return and waited for whatever explanation she might give for it.

"I know you might not find it appropriate in public," she said, looking towards the door as if to check no-one had come in for the past five seconds, "but when we're alone, well, you could call me Rose, you know? And now that I know your first name..."

"Very well," he cut in before the question was even complete. "If it would please you, dear, you may call me Anthony. Outside of company, of course," he added quickly. "And I shall endeavour to remember to call you by your first name in return."

She was beaming again at the answer she wanted, as she turned to leave a second time and this time made it out the door, calling a cheerful 'see you later'. The tinkling chimes signalled she was gone, and the slam of the door made it final. Only then did Gold speak again.

"You shall indeed see me later," he said, in all but a whisper. "My sweet Belle."

To Be Continued...