Chapter 10—"And So Unsure"

Belle waited until that afternoon to drag Rumplestiltskin out into the snow. By then, the storm had mostly stopped, leaving a few innocent snowflakes floating in the air, and Rumplestiltskin's sour mood had passed. She brought him a steaming cup of tea before grabbing his hand and pulling him outside, half surprised (and half not) to find that the protesting Dark One followed her without actually resisting.

"What—what are we doing out here, Belle?" he demanded, looking very out of place in his fine silks and leather pants, surrounded by snow and hardly shivering at all.

The sight made Belle blink, realizing that she'd been sure to bundle up in a warm, fur-lined cloak, but she hadn't thought to find one for him before pulling Rumplestiltskin outside. Guilt made her throat tight. "Are you cold?"

"No…no. I'm fine." He looked adorably confused, and Belle bounced forward to grab his hands.

"Surely even Dark Ones get cold. Can I get you a cloak?" If she let him go inside, he'd probably never come out, so Belle didn't let go of his hands—even though he was looking down at their intertwined fingers like he'd never seen such a thing before.

"I can manage that for myself." His smile looked unsure, but Rumplestiltskin tugged one hand free to twirl his fingers, and suddenly he was wrapped in a large blue cloak.

"Good! Come on, let's build a snowman." Belle started to lead him deeper into the courtyard, but his response made her stop cold.

"A…what?"

"A snow man." She turned to face him. "You've done that before, haven't you?"

When he shook his head wordlessly, Belle felt a part of her heart break. He'd been human once, but what kind of life had he led? Swallowing resolutely, she decided that she would ask the Black Fairy about that later. For now, she would show him how.

"Well, then, I'll help you build your first." She gave him her best smile, and tried to ignore the way her heart fluttered when Rumplestiltskin gave her a timid smile in return.

Luckily, the Jolly Roger was ashore at the moment. Under normal circumstances, Bae wouldn't have been happy to see the pirate ship, but today was an exception. He needed somewhere to hide, and a great big ship lying on the sand had to possess about a million hiding places.

And at the moment, Bae would take Hook's merry band of cutthroats over Rufio's sadistic little bunch. He'd run out on their game of pin the tail on the "donkey", because he'd been their chosen donkey and they wanted to use knives to stick the palm-frond tail into him. He'd spent the last two days evading them, but he knew that Rufio was getting close. He'd thrown the Lost Boys off of his scent a half-dozen times, but this time they'd split up and cornered him between the river and the beach. None of them, however, expected said beach to have a shipon it.

Bae vaguely remembered reading in one of Wendy's books about how sailing ships like the Jolly Roger were repaired. They were dragged onto shore and allowed to lean over like crazy so that the bottom of the hull could be patched. Or something like that. Whatever their purpose, the pirates had supplies all over the beach. Barrels and barrels of what Bae assumed was rum and food were scattered everywhere, and some of them were even empty. Those barrels would make for a great hiding place if he could get to them, because the Lost Boys weren't going to dare hunt for him among Hook's pirates. Because, while Rufio and the others liked fighting pirates, they weren't dumb enough to take on really long odds without Pan there to help, and it looked like Hook's entire crew was out here.

So Bae sprinted for a group of barrels that was far enough from most of the pirates, and he made a run for it. Panting, he dove between the two closest of the bunch, quickly knocking one on its side and squirming into it. He pulled the lid in as fast as he could, his heart pounding in relief—

But a hand stopped the lid before Bae could get it settled. "What are you doing there, boy?"

It was Smee. Bae doubted Hook's favorite henchman could tell him apart from the other Lost Boys, but he remembered Smee. Smee had been the nicest of a bad lot, and right now he was Bae's only chance. "Hiding." He figured honesty was best. "From the others."

"Now why would you want to do that?"

"Because they want to stick knives in me!"

"Well, that's not very sporting of them." Suddenly, Smee turned away, and Bae could hear shouting in the distance.

"We're going to skin you alive, traitor!"

"You can't run from us!" Laughter from Felix. "We're your family!"

Smee turned back towards him. "You say in here, all right? We'll deal with this later."

Bae could barely breathe from relief.

Fiona returned in the middle of a snowball fight, and at first she thought she'd teleported to the wrong castle. Where else could she find two overgrown adolescents throwing chunks of icy fluff at one another whilst they giggled? Belle seemed to be winning, which was no surprise, and even as Fiona stared in shock, the maid nailed Rumplestiltskin right in the face with a snowball.

She jumped even as her son did, expecting the Dark One's legendary temper to come out, to have to jump in to save the girl (more for Rumplestiltskin's sake than Belle's, because the girl might just be the key to freeing him, and if so, she couldn't have him killing her). But Rumplestiltskin only stared, looking utterly dumbfounded. Belle took advantage of that opportunity to hit him with another snowball, although this one only hit him in the chest. He blinked, looking down at the snow dripping off of his cloak, and then looked back up at the maid with eyes full of confusion and wonder.

Then his hands came up, and magic swirled in the air as a giant wave of snow picked itself up and landed right on Belle's head.

"You cheater!" Belle's voice was slightly muffled from being under all that snow; Fiona could only see her feet and her hands until she scrambled out from under the miniature mountain, and it almost made her giggle.

Much to Fiona's surprise, when Rumplestiltskin laughed, it was an actual laugh, not that irritatingly high-pitched giggle. In all of her years living with her son, she had heard that laugh once or twice—and it had taken her a decade to find it. Belle has been here for less than two months.

"Of course I cheated." Rumplestiltskin's grin severely undermined his serious response. "I have magic."

"Well, I'm clever, and that's just as good." Belle clambered to her feet and walked up to him, flinging a snowball as she went. Rumplestiltskin dodged—only to fall flat on his rear when Belle pushed him.

"Clever?!" he sputtered.

Belle grinned down at him. "Clever—oh!"

As Fiona watched speechlessly, Rumplestiltskin yanked Belle's cloak hard enough to unbalance her, and suddenly she was in the snow next to him, laughing.

"Now who's the clever one?" Rumplestiltskin demanded.

"Well, apparently you're smarter than you look." Her cheeky grin took the sting out of the words—or most of it. Fiona did see the quick flash of self-loathing in her son's eyes, but she didn't blame Belle for that. It took a lot more than six weeks around Rumplestiltskin to understand how, despite the way he used his looks as a weapon, he hated them.

"Well, I'm not the only one," he drawled, and Belle twisted to look at him.

"What, do you think that women can't be smart?"

Rumplestiltskin shrugged. "Usually, you get smart, pretty, or nice. Pick two."

"Do you think I'm pretty?" Belle cocked her head, and even from thirty feet away, Fiona could see her son blushing. Oh, she's a smart one! I could almost like having her around if she wasn't so insufferably good.

"I—um—uh, that is to say that…"

Fiona smiled to herself as he babbled embarrassedly, and turned to head into the castle proper. She'd leave the children to continue on their merry way; it seemed as if the absolutely unforeseen solution to their problems had arrived in the person of Lady Belle. Yet she was too distracted, far too pleased with this turn of events, to notice where she was stepping, and her foot found a branch under the snow, sending Fiona stumbling for balance.

"Damn it!"

"Mother!" Rumplestiltskin sounded surprised and pleased at the interruption—and no wonder; she had saved him from his inane gibbering. But when she turned to face him, he also looked a bit like a child who had been caught stealing too many sweets.

Don't think of what might have been, of how you could have played in the snow with him as a child, she thought heavily. Rumplestiltskin mattered more than her own simmering anger over being forced away from him, and Fiona would give him all the love she was able to. All the love I should have given him for his entire life. Still, that didn't mean she was going to let on how much she enjoyed seeing him have fun. If he knew how much she approved of this turn of events, Rumplestiltskin would probably only clam up faster.

"I see the two of you have found something useful to do with the afternoon." She allowed herself a small laugh, because she didn't want her son thinking she disapproved, and besides, he knew that she laughed at almost everything. He was strangely loyal in matters of this ilk, particularly after what happened with Cora.

Belle, however, was clearly no Cora. Not if she'd started a snowball fight. That jumped-up miller's daughter would never have dreamed of doing something so 'demeaning'; only someone confident in the class she had been born in would ever dare. Thank goodness she's only a knight's daughter. Anyone higher would sneer at his peasant roots, Dark One or no. Fiona knew she was a little biased against the nobility, but her time as the peasant she'd chosen to be had marked her. But even a princess should swoon over a fairy's son, peasant-born or no.

Rumplestiltskin went predictably red again. "It's, um…"

"Fun," Belle supplied. "Rumplestiltskin said that he'd never built a snowman before."

Was the girl judging her? Fiona felt her hackles rising, and she stared at Belle for a long moment, not missing the pointed look she was receiving after that comment. Surely he did as a child, she tried to tell herself, and then remembered the hateful bastard that Malcolm had turned out to be. The spinsters had been kind to him, according to Rumple, but he'd already been withdrawn and lonely by the time they took him in. He'd buried himself in learning to be a spinner, so of course he'd never built a snowman.

Fiona refused to let Belle see how much that broke her heart.

"I don't see a snowman here," she said archly.

Belle giggled. "We got a little distracted."

"Yes, that's quite obvious." She couldn't quite tell if Rumplestiltskin was still embarrassed or he was crawling back into his shell. Either was possible, so she gave him a gentle smile, the one she generally reserved for moments when Belle could not see. "Then don't let me stop you."

Fiona headed inside after that, but the quartet of snowmen—one at least twenty feet tall and clearly built by magic—that decorated the courtyard for the next several weeks certainly did not escape her notice. And she reveled in them as much as she hated the fact that Belle had been the one to show Rumplestiltskin how to build one.

Confusion always made him spin. It was the only way to clear his mind, the only manner in which he could find enough peace to silence the voices inside his mind. And the memories. Opening himself up—if that was even what he was doing—always meant reliving old hurts. When he did choose to sleep, he was plagued by visions of Belle turning into Cora, or Milah, or even Zelena; she always turned on him, always came to hate him. That was what happened, Rumplestiltskin knew. The only people who hadn't abandoned him were his son and his mother, and he'd done the abandoning in Baelfire's case. His mother had at least been taken from him, a thought which made his blood boil.

Dark though his mother was, she had stood by him for decades, now, and Rumplestiltskin could admit that he loved her. At least to himself.

"Is something wrong?"

Now her voice intruded on his solitude sometime after midnight, when Fiona should have been long since asleep. Still, that didn't annoy him as much as it once would have; Rumplestiltskin had grown rather used to having someone to talk to. His mother was prickly and difficult, yes, and took everything to greater extremes than even he did, but she was his…and he didn't mind when she interrupted him. Even if he didn't want to talk about what was on his mind.

"Why would something be wrong?" He didn't turn to face her; Fiona was too damned good at reading him. "Nothing's wrong. Life is as it has always been."

"With the exception of the young lady who has been your guest for these last two months?" Fiona was smiling; Rumplestiltskin could hear it. Soon she'd start laughing, even if it was a gentle laugh.

He scowled. "She's just a maid."

"Oh, let's not lie to one another tonight, Rumple. I'm too tired for that."

"Then go to bed!"

"No."

If she was going to be stubborn like that, at least he could still ignore her—at least until his mother put a hand on his shoulder. She squeezed firmly, turning him on his seat so that he had to look at her. Is this some trick that mothers have? I don't have to turn around, and yet I always do. Rumplestiltskin knew that his frown had turned petulant, but he really couldn't care. Sometimes, Fiona made him feel like the small child who had never known her, the one who the Blue Fairy had deprived of his mother. "What?"

"We need to talk about Belle." His mother looked down at him, her expression so serious that Rumplestiltskin had to swallow. Had he ever seen her this serious, aside from when she'd spoken of killing Cora? Rumplestiltskin didn't think so.

"No, we don't." He got up because he couldn't bear the height imbalance, pacing towards the window nervously. The window Belle opened. He didn't want to talk about her, though, particularly with his mother. He just wanted to have his fantasies in private, to dream of things that could never happen, of companionship he knew he could not have.

I have a mother. I never expected that, never imagined anyone would love me enough to stand by me, even when I'm like this, he told himself firmly. It is more than I deserve. Expecting—even wanting!—more is foolish. Particularly since Mother is willing to help me find my son.

"Don't be a fool, son." Fiona's voice grew softer, which made him throw a peek her way. She was watching him sadly, and that made him irrationally angry.

"I know what I can't have, Mother. I am content to—"

"She expected you would rape her, you know. Not an unreasonable assumption."

"What? No!" The very thought made him backpedal furiously. Belle had asked him if he expected that of her, but he'd thought she knew better by now. Hadn't they become more comfortable with one another? He'd even started to think that she didn't fear him. Was he wrong? Was he fooling himself?

"Not now, of course." Fiona shook her head. "She seems quite taken with you, now. She thought that originally. She clearly doesn't believe so any longer. Have you seen how she looks at you?"

"Like a monster." His whisper was bitter, but Rumplestiltskin knew the truth. He wasn't good at lying to himself, after all.

"Hardly, you silly blind boy." He heard Fiona stepping closer, but Rumplestiltskin refused to look at her. Instead, his eyes found the floor. "You rather like her, don't you?"

His giggle wasn't supposed to sound so nervous. "So what if I do? It doesn't matter. Beautiful young maidens do not fall for monsters."

A moment of silence passed, until Fiona finally said: "You don't know how the story ends if you don't try."

"I have tried. You met Cora." Now he looked at her, feeling that old pain rage upwards. He'd loved Cora so much, and she'd tried to take his dagger. She'd tried to enslave him. I would have given her anything, but she never loved me. She only loved power.

The lesson had been simple: no one could love him. His mother was the exception, but only because she was his mother. Even then, if she hadn't been the Black Fairy, Fiona undoubtedly would have hated him, too. Even Bae probably hated him, even if Rumplestiltskin was willing to spend a thousand lifetimes groveling for his forgiveness.

"I hardly think Belle is cut from the same mold as Cora," she said softly. "Rather the opposite, even if her sheer goodness does drive me mad."

Rumplestiltskin just shook his head sadly. "It doesn't matter."

Belle didn't really do much cleaning these days, but as spring approached, she found herself mopping the front hall more often. Rumplestiltskin's guests—often a frightening and unpredictable bunch—didn't care if they tracked in mud, and Belle refused to live in filth. Rumplestiltskin didn't really seem to care if she cleaned or spent all day buried in the marvelous library he had given her, but Belle cared if the castle resembled a pigsty. It didn't matter if the floors would miraculously clean themselves overnight (a spell she suspected was Rumplestiltskin's doing, after he'd tutted over her fight with the mop bucket one day). She didn't want them to look terrible when some morning visitor ruined everything with unclean boots and a muddy cloak.

This morning's visitor had been the Hatter, who had brought his adorable young daughter along. Watching Rumplestiltskin give young Grace treats and candy had been a little mind-boggling, but the mess the girl had left after exploring the great hall was far less pleasant to contemplate. The Hatter had just departed—complete with a tangled ball of golden thread tucked in his pocket—so Belle pulled out the mop and decided she'd at least make the mess manageable.

She had just finished the front half of the hall when a red-haired woman strode in, stepping right onto Belle's clean floors and looking around like she owned the place. Fortunately, she didn't bring mud with her, though she still left footprints, much to Belle's annoyance. Not that this newcomer appeared to care. Many of Rumplestiltskin's visitors were arrogant (though none stayed that way if they crossed him), but this woman certainly stood out from the others. For one, she held her nose so high that she might have been trying to sniff the clouds. And she was also green.

"Who in the world are you?" the woman demanded as Belle rang the mop out again.

"The person whose clean floors you've just ruined." She shouldn't snap back, Belle knew, but after nearly three months in the Dark Castle, Belle had all but forgotten how to act cowed.

"I am Queen Zelena. You will show me respect." The green-skinned woman looked her up and down with a sneer. "You're nothing but a servant."

Belle couldn't help the way her chin came up. "I'm here by choice."

Zelena laughed. "That's what they all say. Still, I suppose you're pretty enough. Rumple always has liked pretty things." Her smile turned vicious. "Has he plucked your pretty little flower yet?"

"…What?" A moment passed before Belle fully comprehended what Zelena meant, and then she felt herself go red with anger. "No! Of course not!"

"Don't play coy with me, little girl." Striding forward, Zelena grabbed Belle by the chin, turning her head this way and that as she inspected her. Shocked, Belle submitted to the rough treatment for a moment before yanking away—or at least trying to. Zelena held her firmly, nails digging into Belle's jaw. "We both know what kind of monster your master is."

"He isn't!" Finally, Belle managed to wrench away from the witch, even though Zelena's nails dragged along her jaw painfully as she did so. "He wouldn't."

Belle knew now that her early fears about Rumplestiltskin had been needless; he wasn't the type to take an innocent maid's virtue away. Even if I wish he'd look at me that way, now, she thought a little sadly. Every now and then, Rumplestiltskin said or did something that made Belle wonder if he was attracted to her, but the man was so damned frustrating. She'd come to realize that he'd never make a move on his own—he was far too unsure. This idiotic queen, on the other hand, clearly didn't know him as well as she thought she did.

"Oooh, do you like him?" Blue eyes gleamed. "Well, that changes everything. Does he have tender feelings for you, too, or are you just pining after him?"

"That's none of your business." Belle hoped she wasn't blushing.

"No, you're not his type," Zelena decided, sneering again. "Too pure and innocent. He wants someone darker."

Was that envy Belle could hear in Zelena's voice? Either way, the possessive lilt that the other woman's voice took on was downright terrifying, sending a shiver down Belle's spine. She'd heard of Zelena, of course; they called her the Wicked Queen, or the Evil Queen, depending upon who was doing the talking. She'd married Good King Leopold, giving him smiles and coy looks, promising him that she'd make a good mother for her stepdaughter. Of course, she'd ended up murdering her husband soon enough, making Princess Snow run to her good friend, Lady Regina, for help. Lady Regina had defended the Princess, but her husband Daniel had died at Zelena's hands, and now both were on the run. Zelena's reputation pegged her as slightly mad and utterly merciless; rumors said she had a harem of heartless men locked in her castle, bound to serve her every desire. So, what was she doing here? And why did she care about Rumplestiltskin's entirely-too-elusive romantic feelings?

"What he wants is for you to stop invading his castle and harassing the help, dearie." Rumplestiltskin's voice was unusually high-pitched and sharp. Belle could tell he was annoyed, but she was very glad to see him.

Zelena gave her the creeps, even when she cocked her head and gave Rumplestiltskin an innocent smile.

"Oh, don't be so unwelcoming, Rumple. You know you love seeing me." Sweeping forward—and utterly forgetting Belle, much to Belle's relief—she tried to reach a hand out to stroke Rumplestiltskin's red silk vest.

He batted the hand away. "What do you want?"

"A little privacy would be nice," Zelena cooed. Then she twisted to glare at Belle. "That one lusts after you."

"Don't be ridiculous." Under other circumstances, watching Rumplestiltskin sputter might have been amusing. Right now, it just seemed dangerous. Fortunately, he seemed to realize that, and snapped back on balance quickly enough to give Belle whiplash. "She's merely buttering me up for better treatment. She's a smart girl."

"I prefer my servants dumb and heartless." She bounced towards Belle, giving Rumplestiltskin a glowing smile over her shoulder. "Shall I do it for you? Consider it a favor."

"That won't be necessary." Rumplestiltskin's glare could have melted steel, but Zelena didn't stop—not until another voice spoke up:

"If you try to take her heart, I'll be happy take yours in return."

Spinning, Belle stared at the Black Fairy with wide eyes. She was pretty sure that Rumplestiltskin's mother didn't like her at all, so why was she was defending her? The fairy stood with her hands on her hips and her expression a sweet but poisonous smile, and the danger exuding from her seemed to make Zelena hesitate.

"Why do you care about the little chit?"

"She's my servant." The lie made Belle gape for a moment, but she snapped her mouth shut. Fortunately, Zelena wasn't watching her at all.

"Yours?" Zelena scowled. "What do need a servant for? You're the Black Fairy!"

"Perhaps it amuses me to enslave someone from the nobility." The Black Fairy shrugged. "I've always been a big fan of irony. Then again, I'd contemplated upgrading to a sorceress, simply for variety."

Rumplestiltskin tried a little too obviously not to snicker. Zelena looked more affronted than Belle thought was humanly possible. Could someone with green skin turn bright red with anger? Apparently so.

"What? You can't possibly think that I'd—"

"Come along, Belle. We have things to do."

The Black Fairy beckoned imperiously, and Belle thought it best not to argue. Part of her desperately wanted to see what happened; she knew that Rumplestiltskin could make mincemeat of Zelena if he so chose, but she didn't know why the Wicked Queen was there. She was ridiculously curious, but she really didn't want to gather any more of Zelena's attention to herself.

I thought I was giving myself to the worst monster of them all. Who would have thought that there are far darker monsters, and that the 'Beast' could be so kind? Belle had expected to sacrifice her life, or at least her virtue, not to enter a fascinating magical world full of knowledge and a prickly-but-adorable Dark One. And his mother. Belle could not forget the Black Fairy, particularly as she was led into what Belle could only guess were the Black Fairy's own chambers. They actually looked rather like Belle's own, although the colors were darker and the room not quite as airy. Rumplestiltskin's mother seemed to favor blacks and silvers, but the furniture looked both comfortable and inviting, even if Belle felt strangely out of place invading the older woman's private abode.

They stood in silence for a long moment, and then the Black Fairy sank into a high-backed chair with a sigh. "You oughtn't antagonize people more powerful than you, you know. Not everyone is as tolerant as my son."

"Thank you." Belle swallowed hard. "I don't know what I would have done if she'd tried to take my heart."

The Black Fairy snorted out a laugh. "Oh, my doting son would have stopped her, and then we'd be in an even bigger mess than we already are."

"What do you mean 'mess'?"

"Zelena isn't green because she wants to be, or because of some curse, girl. She's green because she's envious, and now she's chosen you as her new target. Or started to, anyway."

Belle frowned. "I don't understand."

"Oh, do sit down. You standing around isn't going to help anything." The Black Fairy gestured at a chair near her own, and Belle sat slowly, trying to wrap her mind around what the other woman was saying. But it made no sense! The Black Fairy, however, simply sighed again. "Zelena lusts after Rumplestiltskin in the worst of ways. She has ever since he started teaching her magic."

"What does that have to do with me?" Belatedly, Belle realized that a normal girl might have asked why Zelena lusted after Rumplestiltskin…but Belle couldn't blame her. His looks were strange, yes, a little alien and sometimes frightening, but she was beginning to see the good heart beneath all of his darkness.

"She views you as a rival."

"As a what?" Her laugh had turned nervous, and Belle's heart was hammering against her ribcage. Rumplestiltskin would have stopped her..

"Do you have feelings for my son? Romantic feelings? Genuine ones, as in not a hope to seduce him to get him to let you go?" The Black Fairy met her eyes squarely, and Belle felt herself shrinking back, just a little.

"I wouldn't do that. But I…I don't know. It's—it's hard." She licked her lips nervously. "There's a darkness festering inside him that makes it hard."

"He's cursed. I love him despite that, but I am his mother. And I've reveled in more than my share of darkness, so it does not eat at me like it would at you." She gestured at herself airily. "You, on the other hand, have no obligations to him, yet you've befriended him anyway. Be honest with me: is this you trying to find a way out of your admittedly uncomfortable predicament, or is there something more?"

"I want there to be." Admitting that made her feel a little freer, and Belle found herself smiling. "But can he love? Like this?"

"Yes. Unequivocally."

Belle almost didn't ask the next question, but she had to. She'd never been the type to run away when faced with something difficult, but she needed to know before she lost her heart any further. "Can he love me?"

The Black Fairy laughed softly. "Why do you think we're having this conversation?"

"I don't know." Belle swallowed hard, forcing herself to face the facts and not be excited at the idea of Rumplestiltskin in love with her. "I thought you might be jealous."

After all, she'd seen the sour looks that the Black Fairy shot her way as Belle grew closer to her son. She hadn't failed to notice how unhappy her presence made Rumplestiltskin's mother in the beginning. Yet the Black Fairy had spoken up on her behalf today when she didn't have to, so perhaps that meant things were changing. Or she's as changeable and as dangerous as the stories say she is, although I'm at least too old for her to steal away.

"I was, of course." The Black Fairy shrugged like the admission cost her nothing, but Belle could see old hurt in her eyes. "I cherish my son's affection, and I did not want to share it with some empty-headed noblewoman."

"I'm not—"

"No, you aren't, and that's the point. If you care for my son, if you truly care for him, then you and I are on the same side."

That made Belle blink. "I wasn't aware that there were sides here."

"Of course there are. My son is infested with an ancient and dark curse that I mean to free him from." Unsettling brown eyes studied her. "And you, my dear girl, may just be the key to that."

A/N: Thank you to everyone for the reviews! I'm sorry for not sending individual replies, but today has been crazy busy, and I figured you'd rather I get the chapter out.

Stay tuned for Chapter 11—"That May Not Make Me Wise," in which Bae runs into a familiar pirate, Belle and Fiona do research together, Zelena doesn't get what she wants, and Rumplestiltskin and Belle talk too much.