The sun was piercing, a bright spot of heavenly light with hell's heat to match. Maine had been experiencing a heat wave over the past week. It had kept most people indoors, the playgrounds and parks, even the patio behind Granny's was largely deserted. The people of Storybrooke were unused to the sudden heat, and it seemed that all Belle had retained from her true people was her accent, because even she felt like melting under the sun.

I've shamed all of Australia, Belle thought to herself as she put on her bikini. Following her bathing suit was one of her favorite sundresses, simple white cotton with an eyelet pattern. It left a fair amount of skin exposed, but what did that matter when she was only using it for a beach cover?

Ariel had called her that morning to invite her out with Marcus and Shane, their plan was to hit the beach and make a day of it, given that they all had the day off from work. Starved for fun, Belle had jumped at the invitation and had already packed a tote bag by the time Ariel had hung up her end of the line.

Now all Belle needed was a basket, and she knew just where to find one.

"Mr. Gold? Are you in?"

Being a Sunday, Mr. Gold didn't pawn, trade or sell out of the shop, but he often spent the day inside its walls to go over paperwork and such if he wasn't out collecting rent or staying in at his house.

"In the back, Miss French."

Belle followed his voice into the back of the shop, where she found him seated at the work table, bent over several lenses in a metal tube that he was looking at with a large magnifying glass.

"Oh, what're you working on?" She asked, stepping up beside him.

"These are the innards of an Orion telescope. I'm repairing it for a curator colleague of mine from New York." Gold told her, not looking up from his work. He wasn't trying to be rude, he was only so engrossed in finding the problem within that he feared looking away would interrupt the progress he'd made that morning. "I'm very close to finding the - ah! There it is." He lifted one of the internal lenses, it had a hairline crack down the middle, which was magnified by the others and so prevented a clear view. "I'll phone and let her know the problem with this..."

Gold trailed off once he finally turned to address Belle, laying eyes on her for the first time since she'd entered the shop.

A dress of snowy white hugged her petite frame, it's breezy skirt fell just to her knees, while the deep V of its neckline and the thin straps rising over her shoulders left an expanse of creamy, freckled skin open to his eyes. Beneath the pristine cotton, he could make the dark outline of a bathing suit, a simple cut bikini. Its deep violet strings rose across her shoulders, tying behind her neck. He ignored the itch in his fingers to pull at the knot.

On her feet were cheap sandals, and cheap earrings in the shape of tiny starfish dangled from her ears.

He blinked. "Miss French, you're not off for a swim in the lake, are you?"

Belle shook her head and set her bag on the work table. Inside, she had loaded the essentials: sunblock with a high SPF, a rolled towel, sunglasses and a change of clothes for later in the evening.

"No, not the lake. Ariel, Marcus, Shane and I are going to the beach. It's my first full day off in weeks, I think I've earned some fun."

Gold nodded. "No one would begrudge you that. Which beach are you visiting?"

"You know, I couldn't tell you. Ariel is going to show us where it is, apparently it's some secret beach only she and her sisters know about." Belle shrugged. "Her sisters aren't coming with us, though, it'll just be the four of us today."

What a lovely double date, Gold thought in irritation.

The man had no right to jealousy, he knew, but he couldn't help the tension that stirred in him when he thought back to the morning he'd watched her, first walking with Shane Garrison from her apartment and then allowing herself to be handled by Marcus.

Belle had told him she wasn't with Shane, but Gold didn't know what to make of their connection, and tried not to speculate. He dreaded what he would find if he went looking for answers.

"I wanted to ask if I could borrow that basket." Belle said, pointing to a woven wicker basket on the shelf against the wall. It would serve her purpose for the day. "I promise to bring it back the next time I see you."

"As if I could say no to you. It's all yours."

"You're a life-saver! Thank you Mr. Gold."

"It's no problem." He assured her, leading the way into the show room of the shop.

"What are the beaches like in Scotland?" She asked him suddenly.

Belle did this fairly often, asking how the places he'd been in the world compared to the weather, the food, the social atmosphere of Storybrooke. Belle knew so little else.

Gold thought a moment. "Ah, the beaches at home aren't as craggy and frigid as you might expect. Armadale Bay and Camas a'Charaig are both lovely, pure sand with wonderful views. Sandwood Bay is a national treasure. I haven't been there since..." Gold trailed off, remembering that day, but cleared his throat. "Well, it's been a long time. But we have beautiful beaches, well worth visiting if you ever make it over that way."

Belle gave a small smile, and looked down to her sandals. "I doubt that will ever happen. Listening to you is as close as I may get. But I'd rather talk to you than anyone."

"You do know I'll be here for you, any time you need to talk, don't you?" He wished she would look up at him. The man hadn't forgotten how she'd cried at a drawing and he hadn't forgotten how she'd refused to confide her true troubles to him, claiming stress instead. "Miss French-"

"What were the beaches like in Greece?" She asked, cutting him off.

Gold knew she was deflecting, but what could he do? He was hardly in a position to force secrets from her. So, he would oblige until she felt ready to confide in him, if ever.

"The Greek beaches are...blinding white sand, water clear enough to see down to the sea floor, hot wind, cloudless days. And painful sunburns." They shared a laugh at this. "I didn't care for sunblock that first day, I was too eager to get in the water. My wife was more careful..."

Gold bit his tongue as Belle's eyes widened. He had not meant to let that slip. "I didn't know you were married, Mr. Gold."

"It was a long time ago." Gold dismissed. His expression did not invited further words on that topic. She understood, and set her bag and basket on the counter.

Belle went on to ask after Greece. "What's the food like there?"

"It's delicious, if you're used to lamb, which I certainly am. Their coffee is very strong, it's perfect after a hard night of their wine." He smiled. "There was a wonderful cafe we stopped at on the way to the pantheon ruins-"

Eagerness flashed in her eyes. "The ruins? You've seen them?"

"Of course. You wouldn't go to Orlando without visiting Disneyworld, and so you can't go to Greece without seeing the beaches and ruins."

"Seeing the ruins is on my bucket list, I should probably add Disneyworld to the list too. They're both out of reach for now." Belle shrugged.

Gold considered her for a moment. He didn't know the details, but he knew that Miss French didn't have more than two nickels to her name and he was sure that her father was somehow to blame for that.

He thought of something to bring back the smile he loved best on her. "I - here, are you familiar with the Greek philosopher Axiothea of Phlius? I have a piece from that time period that you might appreciate."

"Oh, of course!" She smiled. "You know, I just finished a philosophy anthology last week."

Gold raised his brows. "I don't know how you find the time."

"Not to brag, but I can read books as quickly as you can read people."

"Seems we each have our talents, then." Gold remarked as he withdrew a jewelry tray from the glass counter case between them. He took a necklace from the tray, a thick band of gold inlaid with gemstones in a repeating pattern of onyx, amber and lapis. It was stunning in its ancient beauty, and Belle was just about to ask how he came by such a piece, when he asked, "Would you like to try it on?"

He held the necklace out before her eyes, tempting her with this jeweled snake.

"Oh, Mr. Gold, I couldn't."

"And why not?"

"It's a piece of history, if it really belonged to Axiothea...I mean, she changed the world." He couldn't be serious, suggesting she try on a piece that belonged in a museum like it was a sweater off a thrift rack.

"That she did, but she was also known for her generosity, so if she was here I'm sure she wouldn't object to sharing this with you. Besides, such jewels were worn by the scholars of the day, so I'd say that you've earned your chance to wear it."

His reasoning was sound, and her reservations were defeated. Belle smiled, conspiring with him. It almost felt like she was getting away with something, some taboo little thrill. "Well, I guess just trying it on for a minute won't hurt anything."

She reached to take it, but Gold withdrew. "May I?" He asked, his meaning plain.

Belle nodded, and Gold inclined his head for her to follow him over to a mirror - like the necklace and the scarab, it was a piece restored from another time, and had once been housed in a Victorian mansion just outside of London. Generations of house servants and aristocracy alike had looked upon themselves in the glass, and now it was their turn.

Belle stood still as Gold moved up behind her and draped the necklace forward, bringing the chain over her head and about her neck. The metal was heavy on her skin. The man's hands were careful as he lifted her hair away from the closure, resettling her curls over one shoulder rather than free down her back, leaving her opposite shoulder bare.

Instead of stepping aside, Mr. Gold remained behind her, his hands resting over her shoulders. The man's dark eyes met hers in the mirror. A soft, steady stare. Belle felt familiar heat bloom in her cheeks and over her throat at his nearness. They often spent time alone, but it was a rare thing that he would touch her, and never had the man taken such an intimate stance with her before.

She could feel her skin tightening beneath his hands, her breasts pebbling. They stared at each other in the glass, Belle's skin had gone rosy all over and Gold's eyes had taken on a distinct intensity. She could feel his hot exhale ghost over her exposed back. Her hands bunched in the skirt of her dress, fisting the fabric. He stroked his hands across her shoulders, his fingers strong on her skin, and Belle's chest lurched in a heady mix of arousal and fear. She closed her eyes under his gentle massage, biting her lip, fighting the moan building in her throat.

"There. Helen of Troy herself."

His voice had deepened, things were all too clear to Belle. She could turn around, let him kiss her, let him take this further, let him take her farther...

But no.

Mr. Gold could be remembering his wife now, a woman he must have loved, and was trying to use her as a substitute.

Or...

Mr. Gold may just be feeling the summer, a rush of heat to the blood that could steer him toward any woman, and she was simply present. That had to be it. She wasn't special to him, she was just there.

"Oh, Mr. Gold, no one is going to war over me."

Belle broke her gaze from his in the glass, killing their moment, turning away to remove the necklace herself. She couldn't allow his hands on her again. Not when she would surrender herself so easily.

She handed the necklace back to him and moved to the counter to collect her bag and the basket. Gold returned her false smile with one of his own, taking back the jewels with all care.

"You might be surprised, Miss French."

If she heard his remark, Belle didn't answer him as she strode out of the shop.


As Belle disappeared into Granny's, Gold threw the damn necklace against the wall and limped his way back into the work room. A light sweat had broken over his forehead, his mind was unfocused and he was uncomfortably, painfully aroused.

What I did...have I ruined it all?

No.

No, Gold took a deep breath to calm his thundering pulse, and tried to think. It was no simple task. His mind was spinning with thoughts of Belle, beautiful Belle naked and waiting for him in his own bed, Belle begging him to take her in the library, Belle looking at him with those damn bright eyes and that clever smile telling him he was loved again.

The man fixed himself a glass of ice water, hoping to cool these heated thoughts. But how could he hope to, when he'd seen the arousal in Belle's eyes, felt it in the air between them?

This wasn't one of his daydreams, he had sensed Belle's wanting. As a man, he knew down to his bones that Belle had been his for the taking. All he'd needed was a sign, but she had run from him instead.

When he asked himself why, he laughed at the idiot question.

You know why, he chided himself. You couldn't keep it hidden. Without a word you came on too strong - you scared her...but you also excited her.

That last bit was true, and added fuel to his flicker of hope for more than this secret friendship they shared. If Belle had been excited by his touch, then sure enough she must feel something for him. Something beyond the simple care between friends.

Gold took a deep breath, rallying his strength, his determination and his courage. They couldn't go back to the way things were, not now that lust had nearly overcome them both.

We can't go on like this. We can't, we won't.


Belle strode out of the pawn shop and she didn't pause in her stride until she'd entered the ladies room at Granny's and shut the door behind her, leaning her back against it, shutting out the world so that she could catch her breath and collect her thoughts.

Belle took several deep breaths and speared her fingers through her hair, pulling at it when she snagged a tangle. She was overdue for a trim. Mr. Gold...he...he had held her, stroked her, his hands sure and hypnotic over her bare shoulders, her back, and his eyes...God, his eyes had been on fire, burning into her own through the glass of the mirror. And she had loved it, but his sudden intensity had frightened her out the door of his shop.

Why had she run? Why, when he'd clearly been searching her for a sign, just the slightest nod of assent, the proof that she wanted him, too?

No.

Belle knew. She'd allowed her insecurities rise to overtake her, plaguing her with the thoughts that had clawed at her for years - that she was no good, just a poor girl from the wrong side of town, Moe French's screwup daughter, who Mr. Gold couldn't have possibly been looking at for anything other than an easy lay.

Now, though, she knew none of it was true - she had tried so hard to put distance between her father's crimes and what she was now, tried to rise above the reckless choices of her youth. And Mr. Gold wouldn't think of her that way, not after all this time.

Belle moved to the sink and wet her hands, lifting them to flick cold water over the flush that glowed beneath the skin of her chest, throat and cheeks. Proof of her arousal, anger at denied satisfaction.

Get ahold of yourself.

What might have happened, if she had given him the sign he sought, just a nod of her head or a slight lean further into his secure hold?

Such was how that silent question was answered between two animals, one male and one female in the high heat of summer. Gold might have guided her to turn around so that he could kiss her, or he might have dipped his head those precious few inches to graze her throat with his teeth...but Belle had ruined it, all of it, and where could they go from here, now that the suggestion of more had been introduced between them?

Would they go on as they always had, pretending it had never happend or would Gold want to talk? Belle cringed at the idea. God knows what truth she might blurt out if Gold only brought it up to apologize and dismiss it as some heated bit of madness on his part.

A quick knock startled her out of her thoughts.

"Belle, are you in there?"

She cleared her throat. "Yeah, Ariel, I'm coming out."

Ariel took a step back as Belle came out and they made their way to the front of the restaurant. "Shane just pulled up. He and Marcus have everything, Ruby's just sneaking us a few extra things."

'A few extra things' turned out to be almost too much for Belle's basket.

"Here, and just a couple more sandwiches." Ruby insisted, holding them out toward the open mouth of the basket.

"Rubes, we already have a ton!" Marcus groused from his seat at the bar.

"You say that now but you'll be starving at the end of the day." Ruby reasoned, jealous that she couldn't join them on their day trip. "Besides, we need to make room for the fresh sandwiches."

"Nice to know we're your convenient garbage disposals." Shane said, taking the last sandwich and giving it a suspicious look. "They're not furry with mold on the inside, are they?"

"They're only a day old! If you don't like them, toss them to the birds."

"Thank you Ruby, this is more than generous." Ariel told her, embarassed by Shane's ungrateful joke.

"No sweat." Ruby shrugged. "Where'd you get the picnic basket, anyway?"

"Mr. Gold let me borrow it." Belle said without thinking.

"Mr. Gold? How'd that happen? I thought you hadn't spoken to him after you had breakfast with him a few months back." Ruby's reminder of the meal she'd shared with the man after his disappearance in the winter only further twisted the knife in Belle's belly.

It was too easy to bring out a believable lie. "I haven't. I just saw the basket in the window and asked if I could use it for the day. He said it probably wouldn't sell anyway so he let me take it."

Overhearing this, Granny, owner of the diner and known by no other name, stepped over to their group. She was a strong woman, and strongest in her convictions. "You watch out, Belle, Gold never gives anything for free."

"How do you mean?" Belle asked the question, but she was sure she would hear the same tired answer and Granny did not disappoint.

"I mean you don't need to make friends with a man like that - God only knows what kind of favor he'll decide you owe him for borrowing a basket."

Belle rolled her eyes. "I'll be sure to keep my distance, Granny."

Marcus wasn't in the mood to hear yet another tirade against Mr. Gold - he wouldn't have his auto store without the other man's loan, after all - when they had a day at the beach to look forward to. "All right, the Jeep's loaded. Full tank of gas, full coolers of beer and water, and thanks to the world's sexiest waitress we've got about 80 sandwiches to split between us. Lets go."

The man had summed up the situation perfectly, and so the group marched out the door, into the heat and into the sun, ready to claim their day.


"Belle, you look like you got some sun already, you're all red." Marcus handed her a bottle from the cooler set between the driver and the passenger seat. "Have a water, it should cool you down."

Belle smiled, glad no one had even thought to guess at the reason behind her flushed face. "Thanks, I'll drain it."

"So, Ariel, we've been riding the coastline for over an hour, where is this place?" Shane asked, hanging his arm out the window, surfing his hand against the air.

"We're still about 15 minutes away, but I promise you this will be worth the drive."

"Hey, our day off is in your hands. If we get there and it sucks, we'll never let you live it down." Marcus warned her, smiling.

"No pressure." Ariel laughed.

Thankfully, once they arrived along the stretch of shore, Ariel's secret lagoon was no disappointment - it was a secluded spot that had been overlooked by regular beach-combers, leaving it beautifully preserved, and just for them to share. A scattering of trees offered shade, and a long jetty would give them something to climb on, a point where they could drop a line and search for crabs.

Stepping out of the Jeep to look around, Shane spread his arms, a broad smile unfolding over his face. "Damn, Ariel, you weren't kidding, this is great! God, just look at it."

Ariel nudged him in the ribs. "I knew you'd all love it, my sisters and I came here all the time when we were younger, not so much after high school. We still come a few times every summer, though, and today was too perfect to resist it."

The group got to work laying out their area, eager to get everything set. Belle and Ariel laid out a wide blanket, then set the coolers on the corners to keep it from blowing away. Marcus planted big umbrellas in the packed sand while Shane brought out the portable speaker and set his music to blaring.

Moments later they were all in the water, diving, splashing and, after calling each other out, they began chicken fighting, the men standing while the women on their shoulders grappled, tumbling each other off-balance into the water.

Long hours they spent in the waves, only pausing to reapply sunscreen and drink water. Once the late afternoon came over them, the group dried off and started in on the sandwiches Ruby had loaded into the picnic basket. The bread was only a touch stale on the edges, but that was negligible in their raw hunger. Ruby had been right after all.

The basket had also been packed with containers of cookies, potato salad, sliced apples and pears, honey-roasted cashews, a vegetable tray, crackers and cheese. It didn't take long for the four of them to devour the whole feast, leaving only a few of the staler sandwiches to be tossed to the gulls that had been circling them for the past hour, hungry for scraps.

Belle tore off tiny bits of bread, watching as a few gulls clamored for it. Spoiled birds, she thought. Beside her, Ariel was doing the same. For a while, they were kids again, feeding birds like they had at the park, years ago.

When the bread was gone, and the gulls saw their free lunch was over, the group decided to take a rest since it was too soon to get back into the water.

"Man, I'm beat." Marcus said through a yawn. He reached over and swatted Belle on her backside. "You're heavier than you look. I call Ariel on the next chicken fight."

Belle turned and kicked him in the shin. "And you have a death wish to say something like that."

"Death by a beautiful woman...yeah, I'll take it." He shrugged.

Ariel rolled her eyes at him. "Charming friend you've got, Shane."

For his part, Shane wasn't much in the mood to tease the women. He leaned over and tugged on Ariel's fiery hair. "He's insufferable around you ladies - but what can you expect? He had a rough childhood. His dad wasn't in the picture much."

"Hey, I didn't need my dad, I shared yours for a good couple of years." Marcus reminded him.

Shane nodded, remembering the good times when his father would invite them for hunting and fishing trips. It wasn't anything they were interested in, but they'd gone along anyway to please the older man, to hopefully gain a measure of acceptance, if not celebration.

Shane yawned and laid back on the blanket to rest, and Marcus was quick to follow his lead. The men loved the sun, their skin tanning beautifully under the bright rays. Ariel laid down in the shade of the umbrella, careful of her pale skin. Belle shared her friend's light complexion, so quick to burn, and so made room for herself in the shade as well. The women shared a look, perfectly communicating their jealousy over the mens' ease under the sun.

Belle was tired. Hours of horseplay in the waves had done wonders for her spirit, but she was tired in the best way. She tried not to think of what had happened with Mr. Gold, but as soon as she'd settled down next to Ariel the whole scene played out in her mind all over again - their easy banter, her agreeing to wear the necklace and then that terrifying, thick arousal that had come over them both like a heated spell, and how Belle had let herself ruin what could well have been everything she'd been dreaming of for months.

Despite a few reckless years in high school, Belle wasn't always one to jump into bed or dive headfirst into a kiss...though she kicked herself ten times over for not letting her body lead her into the arms of the one man she wanted.

And she did want him. It had been an ache in her chest when he'd left in the winter, and she feared losing him to his own secrets.

Even with her dread at the awkwardness of it, Belle hoped that Mr. Gold might speak of their moment in the shop the next time she saw him. She was too afraid to bring it up on her own, sure if she did that he would apologize and take care to keep her even farther than an arm's length away in future.

Belle didn't want that.

Certainly, she wanted more than the polite friendship they'd shared for the past year, but not all at once - she'd been overwhelmed, frightened by the intensity she'd seen in his eyes. He'd looked ready to eat her alive, right there in the shop. He hadn't looked like himself at all.

If Mr. Gold mentioned what had happened before the mirror, then she might be able to turn his words to her advantage. She wanted to convince him that she, Belle French, could be worth taking a chance with. That she was worth more than polite friendship, that when the time was right, she could be worth his romance, his passion.

Or maybe I'm just worthless.

Belle sighed, her mind exhausted from churning out a hundred potential outcomes for the next time she saw the man. Only time would tell. Until then, Belle could do nothing but lay back in the shade and wait.