Alan walked her up the porch, a hand on the small of her back.

"Is the old man home?" he asked.

"What? Oh, you mean Gold?" she asked, peering at him through the darkness. "Well I suppose so. He might be asleep by now, but probably not since he's usually—"

"Does he care if you have guests?"

They had reached their destination, and Belle stood with her back to the door, looking up at him. "I- I guess not."

He kissed her then, his mouth smooth, forceful, and tasting strongly of his drinks. She felt his hand on her back slide up so that his full arm was enclosed around her. She kissed back, falling into his masculine hold.

When they broke off, his breath was warm and close. "Can I come in?"

A few things clicked in Belle's mind, but before she managed a word, his mouth found hers again. He pried her lips open with his own, making her gasp.

"You like that?" he murmured.

Belle felt the need to retreat, but he gripped her too tightly.

"P-please," she said, managing to pull away. "Not tonight."

He looked through his long lashes down at her. For a moment, Belle thought he would shrink away with a bruised ego. Yet he did quite the opposite. He pressed the full scope of himself against her, until she was plastered between his body and the door. "C'mon. How long have we been going out? And didn't I just buy you that fancy dinner?"

Belle put her delicate hands on his shoulders, pushing him away. But the pressure remained on her, and his kisses moved rapidly down her neck. "Alan, please!"

He chuckled. "What? You afraid that boss of yours will get mad? We can go to my place, if that'll make you more comfortable."

"No, it wouldn't!" she shrieked, squirming away from him.

"What's the problem?" he asked. "Why are you being such a bitch?"

He crushed her against the door, his mouth attacking hers until she was short of breath. "Alan!" she shouted, but he only got fiercer and angrier. "Alan, you get off of me!"

"Shut up," he growled against her. "Just ease the fuck up. Everyone knows you take it from Mr. Gold, so just shut the fuck up and take it from me."

Her mind barely processed his words, but there was no mistaking the vicious tone behind them.

She felt him squeezing her wrist and back. She could hardly inhale. She was trapped, trapped again. Yet this time with a beast.

Nightmares of the asylum came rushing back to her, and before she could calm herself, she was screaming, "Stop! G-Gold! Mr. Gold!"

Alan finally released her, and in the next second, the front door flew open. Belle, who had been leaning dizzily against it, tumbled backward into Gold's arms.

And there she remained, breathing heavily between his chest and cane.

"What are you doing to her?" Gold whispered menacingly as she pressed her face to his neck. "You are never to touch her without her permission."

Alan laughed. "Oh, c'mon. Practice what you preach, Old Man."

"Get out," he said.

Alan just continued to laugh, swinging his arms awkwardly.

"I mean it. I'm not above doing some pretty demented things to scum like you."

"Yeah, I know you're not," Alan said, his voice absent of fear. "But I don't even care. You're not worth the trouble, Belle."

The door slammed, and Belle wasn't sure if it was Gold or Alan who had closed it.

Her heart beat took a while to slow, and she could feel Gold run his hand along her back soothingly.

"He's a bigoted jerk, Belle," Gold said. "You'll never have to deal with him again."

Belle nodded and pulled away slowly. "It's fine. I only need a good shower, I think. Sorry and-and thank you."

She hurried down the hall, away from him. And again, Gold was left to his anger.

…..

She collapsed onto her bed, tired in every sense of the word. Cold water (she had stayed in the shower until the temperature went from scolding to freezing) dripped from her head and onto the pillow.

She felt hurt, week, cowardly.

But mostly, she felt tired, and so she fell asleep.

A rose with pristine, red petals and a long, thorny stem, was lying on the stone floor. Belle didn't want to, but she had to retrieve it. She walked into the familiar room. Room 43. Her grasp rapped around the flower; the thorns pricked her finger tips; they bled.

All at once, the door slammed behind her.

"Gotcha."

Belle spun around, and there she was. Regina, eyes glistening with a demented gleam.

Belle woke, screaming as loudly as her raspy voice would allow.

And in he came, just as before, only this time Gold didn't hesitate. He wrapped his arms around her, calming her with whispers. "It's okay, Belle. Everything's okay."

Belle came to her senses soon. She was conscious of the fact that he was holding her, conscious of the fact that she didn't want him to stop.

"Lay with me?"

He agreed, falling back onto the pillows. Belle sprawled her body over his, carefully avoiding his hurt knee, and used his thin shoulder to rest her head on.

She took a deep breath, familiarizing herself further with his elegant scent.

"Reggie," Belle mumbled.

"What? Oh, not that's not it," Gold replied.

"Remus?"

"You've guessed that before."

"Dammit," she said, and they laughed together.

"Belle, I'm sorry about that oaf," said Gold after a while. His arm tightened protectively around her. It's amazing, Belle thought, how the same hold could feel so much more welcoming from him than from Alan, or anyone else, for that matter.

"It's alright. I never liked him all that much anyway," she said.

She felt his chest rise and lower. Relief?

"You deserve a man who will worship you," he went on. Belle scoffed. "No, really, you do!"

"No one will ever worship me, the crazy psychopath, fresh out of the loony bin."

"Who's called you that?" he asked fiercely.

"I just know that they're all thinking it," she said. Her mind went back to Alan's words. We know you take it from Mr. Gold… Is that what they all thought? That she was just his little plaything?

"If I didn't own this place, I'd get the Hell away from Storybroke," he said.

"Take me with you?"

He stroked her hair tenderly. "But of course. I'd take you anywhere: a beach, a big city, the wilderness…"

"How about a palace?" she giggled.

He laughed darkly. "Ah yes, that's where you belong, isn't it?"

She pictured in her head all the places she could go, they could go rather. And the idea of it made her insanely happy. All thoughts of Alan had temporarily fled her mind, and she focused only on the man beneath her, how fond she was of him…

"Thank you, Gold," she said. "I'll never know why you're so kind to me."

"In comparison to how I treat everyone else?"

"No," she said. "I meant, in comparison to how most other people treat me. Like, some are nasty, some are alright, but you—you're simply perfect."

"Me? The perfect one?" he said, chuckling. "I think you have us confused. Me, I'm the troubled one. And you are the epitome of perfection, the brilliant light that I've been lucky enough to have shine on me…"

Belle paused. She was use to Gold's hesitant compliments, but never has he been so down right honest and charming.

And all she had to do was turn her head slightly to be exposed to Gold's slender neck. She kissed the soft skin and felt his body tense beneath hers. Her lips traveled upward, past his hair and beneath his ear, then to the jaw line. She peered down at him through the darkness, wondering if his lips would speak anything before she kissed them.

"Belle," he said gently. "I don't think now's the right time."

His words must have weighed a hundred pounds. Her cheeks flushed. "Oh," she said, "I'm sorry."

She began to squirm off him. But he caught her. "Please stay," he said.

Confused, she let him lead her back into his arms. Soon she was on his shoulder just like before.

"Believe me, I want you," he said. "But now isn't… isn't right."

He kissed her on the top of the head, making Belle's spirits lift.

"Now sleep, my beautiful Belle, and dream sweetly."