Belle sat on the bed in her room over her father's shop. Luc was busy getting projects done now that he was feeling better. Doc, the Kingdom's number one physician, was still baffled about how the whole healing thing had happened.

Belle stared at the mirror, noting how the lack of sleep was evident in the bags under her currently dim green eyes. Although Rumpelstiltskin had told her to bathe and sleep, the latter was proving to be most evasive. Indeed, she had not slept at all that night, her first after he had stolen—or she had offered—her innocence in the dwarf-made prison.

"Belle?"

Her father called for her from downstairs. She double-checked that her golden cloak was tucked safely away under the floorboard where she had first found it and walked to his shop.

"Yes papa?"

Her dad simply nodded to the tall man standing at the entrance. He was attractive, with wavy black hair falling just above his neck, clear blue eyes and a sharp jaw line.

"Hello, Belle. Shall we?" He grinned.

"Shall we what, Gaston?" She asked.

Her father began to whistle quietly as he worked, trying to remind the pair he was there while also attempting invisibility.

The young man replied, quite sure of himself.

"Go to the ball?"

She stared at him. It wasn't that he was not dressed well for a man from their part of the kingdom—he wore black leather pants tucked into high black riding boots, a loose white riding shirt mostly tucked away under a black vest and a green flowing cape. Still, he was in no way dressed elegantly enough for a ball.

"The ball?"

"Well, certainly not the ball… but 'the ball.' Remember?" Gaston looked at her like her head was in the clouds, a look she was all too familiar with from him. "Tonight, a few villages over? Feasting and dancing in celebration of the coming prince?"

She glanced down at her ring. It did not glow or change, but simply sparkled on her pale finger. Rumpelstiltskin would not pull her away this time, just as he had promised. Standing before Gaston she felt ashamed, but was pretty sure she had no reason to be in his presence. This man had a reputation for taking women to bed after only a few drinks. Certainly he could not judge her rash decision, if one could call it that. She thought her mental capacities had simply gone-out the moment the golden hands lifted her dress. But Belle knew better than to expect mercy from anyone. Hell, even the Evil Queen would probably judge her for the recent events.

"Oh. I forgot. I am so sorry Gaston." She continued to think about the whole damn forest probably thought she was a slut, everything from dwarves to dragons would condemn her as a wanton pile of refuse.

He waited for her to continue, to hear "I'll be ready soon" escape her lovely lips. It did not come.

"Shall I see you there, then?" He tried to smile confidently, but his eyes held growing irritation. Never had a woman been so difficult!

"Perhaps. I need to help my father with a few things." She replied.

Luc's whistling paused a moment. When he realized he had stopped, it picked up again a little louder.

"Fine. I hope you attend, Belle. Good day, Luc." He nodded towards the old carpenter before he turned swiftly and left, green cape hanging limply behind him.

Belle had to admit, he looked good in his attempt at 'noble' huntsman. He could probably afford it with all the poaching he had done lately. Rumor had it he had even destroyed a chimera in another realm. The irony of it all was that, despite how much he killed, aristocracy would always see him for what he was—the son of peasants. Marriage was the only way Gaston could change his life, yet he was intent on courting Belle, a carpenter's daughter. She felt like she was cheating him out of something, except that it was entirely Gaston's decision and she had done little to encourage his advances. There was a time, when they were children, that she had found him the most handsome of all the older boys around. Now, there was little he had to offer aside from good looks, good dancing, and beautiful pelts of poor dead animals.

…

Mr. Gold lay on his side, looking at Marie. She awoke with a small flinch when she saw him staring. He gave his sideways grin. He was still wearing his black suite shirt, although it hung loosely from him unbuttoned.

"Good morning, Miss Dupont." His voice was pleasant this morning.

The suddenly formality highlighted their informal position.

"Good morning, Mr. Gold." She tried to hide her smile, "Was that a date then?"

He raised an eyebrow, "Whatever do you mean, dear?"

"Well… you did not buy me dinner, perhaps…" She saw him recall what she was referring to almost immediately. He had recently made her the most delicious meal, homemade cordon bleu with white wine sauce, dumpling potatoes, and a gourmet salad. Complete with a bottle, or two, of his best wine. Perhaps the latter led to their extended tour of his home.

"Well, when you put it that way…" He kissed her, "Some might consider it as such."

She playfully pushed him away. Part of her enjoyed his high spirits, but part of her needed to know if this was exclusive. She so desperately wanted everything implied in the term "lover" and yet was convinced Mr. Gold could never be that.

He settled for stroking her head, watching his long, slender fingers glide through her silky brown hair sprawled on his pillow, in his room. She looked at his deep eyes, as they were momentarily distracted. She thought they held admiration, perhaps that could become affection.

"What are you thinking about?" She asked.

He looked into her emerald eyes.

"How exquisite you are." His face held more than he had uttered.

"And? That isn't all." She continued, wanting so much more.

He chuckled low. "No, my dear, it is not. But for now, is it not good enough?" He kissed her passionately, shifting on top of her.

Without a second thought her hands grabbed and pulled him in, deepening the kiss. He responded in kind and they stayed that way for a few moments before he eventually lay back on his bed breathing heavier.

"I believe I am in desperate need of rest, my sweet. I simply cannot keep up with you." He closed his eye, large grin upon his lips.

He brought his hand to her thigh and squeezed. The scrape still burnt a little, and she winced through her laughter. He did not seem to notice.

"Did you want me to clean the shop today?" She asked, glancing over at him. Mr. Gold sighed and seemed to think about it a moment.

"Today is yours. Do with it what you will."

She smiled again, kissed him and got up to throw on her blouse.

"Shall I come back tonight?" She asked, pulling on her jeans.

"No, no. I will be at the shop late this evening. I will see you tomorrow."

Though his gaze was intense, she thought he looked lost in his own thoughts.

"Oh. Okay. See you tomorrow then." She gave him a small smile and walked out thinking about how he found her exquisite, and how there was more, and began to plot how she could get him to confess what all that meant.

…

Eyes shamelessly stared as Belle took in a deep breath and walked into the main part of the party. She was suddenly surrounded by tables of food and people dancing to the upbeat music. The women, mostly mothers, watched her enter and began to whisper. She had known some of them from childhood—they had always respected, even adored, her father. They had been friends with her mother. They had always thought her odd.

And here she was, nothing odd about her long brunette hair in tight curls, or her simple, but no less gorgeous, crimson dress. These women, who had once gossiped that she would die an old maid, wanted her for their sons, at least in theory. By simply looking at her, she was stunning and could shame any royal. However, they still thought her a bit off given her obsession with books and things of that nature. Art was not respected amongst people who had to do hard labor simply to eat. Belle did not begrudge them that. She had dreams, yes, but she did not despise the necessities that faced those in her social class. Sometimes she wondered why she had such aspirations—it could only lead to heartache. She was probably going to end up a mother of five, married to a blacksmith, or perhaps a royal's laundry woman if lucky. As with Gaston, her only way to improve her status was marriage. Unlike Gaston, Belle wanted this in order for her ideas to be taken seriously, her writings to go somewhere other than her beautiful bookshelf. Her father simply could not offer a dowry big enough for that sort of societal promotion.

Belle left these dreary thoughts when she heard the familiar voice,

"Belle! You came." Gaston sounded surprised.

"Yes, I did. I could not ignore my promise." She smiled a little.

"Then you are accompanying me?" He glared at her, eyebrow raised, a little less sure than earlier in the day.

"Yes, I suppose I am." She gave a graceful curtsy as one might at a real ball.

Gaston bowed, black hair falling in front of his face. He stood and offered his hand. She was impressed by his gesture—he was playing the part of suitor well tonight. The pair first sat down amongst others to feast on the roasted duck and grilled vegetables before them. Belle enjoyed the meal, although Gaston talked a little too much about how he had killed the foul on which they dined. After they finished, Gaston stood and offered his hand again.

"It would greatly honor me to have this dance."

Belle stifled a laugh. "I would love to."

Gaston could be obnoxiously masculine, in the sort of way that led Belle to believe he had something to prove, or compensate for. He could be rather ignorant of kingdom politics, history, literature, or the arts. He could be a brute who hunted, drank, and brawled with the rowdiest of folk. He could be a poor listener. He could be a great many things that annoyed Belle.

He was, however, an undeniably brilliant dancer.

As he spun, dipped, and twirled Belle, she felt as though she were flying, soaring through the air with the grace of a springing lark. Whether the music was fast or slow, Gaston's steps were perfectly smooth. He was also a good lead. Belle did not pride herself on her dancing, but he made her feel like a practiced dancer, almost capable of being in a theatrical performance! After a few songs, Belle left the floor to take a break. Gaston followed.

"Is everything alright?" He sounded concerned.

"Fine, fine. Just tired. That was wonderful." She smiled at him with more sincerity than she had ever expected to show towards this meathead of a man.

He smiled broadly. "It was, wasn't it?"

Again he sounded surprised, and again Belle enjoyed it. She liked that he was thrown off by her. Then again, perhaps he should be surprised by her reactions. She did not know what was driving her desires this night. Perhaps it was the recent visit to Rumpelstiltskin, but she was enjoying the freedom she had knowing he would not call on her. Part of her wondered if he had awaken something in her, if she would be like the many other women Gaston had bedded. The thought sickened her as she drank a glass of watered down wine.

"You should ask one of them to dance while I rest." She nodded her head towards two sisters standing near the dance floor. They were almost identical despite their not being twins, or even related.

Gaston tilted his head, trying to imagine how to even approach them. No one split them up. Which would he choose?

"Oh, I don't know about that…"

At his hesitancy, Belle laughed.

"Come on, oh great hunter. Catch a Tremaine sister."

Gaston continued to stare at the girls. They were not unattractive, but they always seemed arrogant, as though they were too good for everyone else. Of course, Gaston did not doubt that they found him attractive. He thought about it a moment and decided it would be a good test. Was his hunting not something that the wealthiest around admired?

"If I can get one of them to dance with me, what will you do?"

Belle paused. She was certain they found him attractive, but thought they would fight over him before allowing one to dance with him. It seemed the poor hunter would come back pelt-less.

"I'll give you a kiss." She smirked, eyes flashing mockingly.

He laughed loudly. "Then it is time to prowl."

As Gaston walked off, Belle shook her head. He certainly behaved as young as he was. The man seemed more like a boy trying to prove himself than an acclaimed hunter. She continued to sip her wine as she watched the fireworks out over the castle in honor of the coming heir to James and Snow White. It was months until the expected birth, but the pair were holding a great banquet and ball for all the most renown guests.

Belle frowned as she thought of Rumpelstiltskin alone in his cell, only able to hear to the celebrations above in the realm of the free. She wondered if he knew what the fireworks were for. If not, he would likely ask about it next he saw her, if he even cared. She had heard he had once tried to take the first born of another royal couple. Although at the time she had thought it strange, since she had gotten to know him better, she began to understand what a first-born child meant. There were many things this man of magic and knowledge could do with an heir at his disposal. If Belle did not have her morals, whatever morals were left after yesterday, climbing the social latter would be much easier. She had read enough books to know how easily it was to manipulate people into believing they were getting what they wanted. Indeed, part of why she had sent Gaston off was to get her much needed space, all by promising him something he could never achieve.

Perhaps Rumpelstiltskin was rubbing off on her. The thought of him rubbing made her blush. Damn him! He wasn't even around and he was still all she could think about! She could never truly be free of him, and if the choice was between Gaston the hunter or Rumpelstiltskin the golden monster, she wasn't sure she wanted to be free at all.

…

"Good evening." Gavin smiled broadly as Marie walked down the cobblestone path, looking elegant in a loose fitted black dress.

"Hello Gavin."

Her eyes twinkled in the moonlight as she took in her date—dashing in his modern style grey suit and green shirt. She recalled his very contemporary kitchen and wondered if everything about this man was hip and fashionable. Although he was dressed well, it did not speak of wealth and elegance as Mr. Gold's attire often did. Gavin looked like a city man whilst Gold looked like 'old money,' although he would refer to himself as a "business man." Marie mentally shook her head at herself. It would be a very long night if she continued to compare the two men.

They drove to the opposite side of Storybrooke where a new bar had been added and a few trendier restaurants struggled to stay alive in the small town.

"I was thinking sushi." He said while parking.

Marie nodded. "Sushi sounds good."

They dined on an eclectic assortment of rolls, taking breaks every so often for a shot of sake. As the meal came to a close, the once flourishing conversation became tense.

"So, Marie, what is this deal you've got with Mr. Gold." Gavin asked bluntly after downing his last shot of sake.

"What do you mean?" Marie took a sip of her coke, trying not to sound conspicuous.

"I mean… I know you work for him, and I know you'd rather be at school. With your father sick and all, I figured, you know, Mr. Gold must be paying his bills and what not too?"

Marie wanted to sigh but kept it inside.

"Oh, yeah. Mr. Gold is helping with my dad's bills." She was growing irritated.

"What does he get out of it?" This guy would not relent.

"I think it is an investment." She was in awe at how fast the lies began to fall from her mouth. "If my dad gets better, Mr. Gold gets the money he owes him. If my dad passes, well… Gold is out."

Gavin wasn't fully convinced. "Sure, but Gold loses more money now for potential of some money back later. Why? He doesn't usually work like that."

Marie stared at him, frustrated that he continued to push the subject. "Yes, well, Mr. Gold is good at waiting for what he wants I guess. I don't know…" She tried to sound like she did not know how good he was at waiting, or at getting what he wanted.

"Besides, how do you know how he normally works anyway?"

She waited for Gavin to answer, but instead he took a bite of sushi. Marie wished they could go back to talking about high school or interesting legal cases Gavin worked on or some of her book ideas. Why Gold? She was beginning to feel like the man was inescapable.

Gavin looked down at his empty plate. He could not avoid her question forever.

"I'm a lawyer right?" He said simply.

"That's what you told me…" She replied, clearly exasperated.

Gavin did not play along but continued, "Well, I work with business law—insurance type stuff, mostly."

"Right… this isn't new to me. I mean, it is new as in today… but we've gone over this already." She stared at him, wishing he would get to the point.

"Yes. I've handled cases where people prosecute Gold claiming 'outlandish' things against him."

Marie raised an eyebrow. That was new.

"You've gone against Gold?"

Gavin nodded.

"And?" Marie stared at him. He finally met her gaze.

"Mr. Gold won. He always wins." Gavin rested his chin on his hands, waiting to see how she would respond.

She was not surprised. Her mind began to try to comprehend what Gavin was implying, but the sake made that difficult. She made a mental note to revisit the conversation in the morning when she felt more alert.

The topic changed to Marie's father in the hospital, to silly doctors, to Gavin's recent house purchasing decision to childhood career aspirations to the latest episode of Parks and Recreation. Marie was glad to have changed the topic from Gold, and enjoyed the way their conversation flowed easily from subject to subject. Gavin was smart and witty and obvious about how much he liked Marie. It was a nice change.

Gavin kindly paid. Normally Marie would have convinced him otherwise, but she did not have much money and Gavin seemed keen on doing so. It was neither a check for nor against him, but a fact to consider later, should this dating thing continue. He had some value for traditional roles that Marie was not sure she could agree with.

Still, when he offered to walk her to her door something inside her was a bit gleeful.

"I had a lot of fun tonight." She smiled at him, thinking about how good he looked in that well fitted button up.

"It was. Shall we do that again?" He smiled back, blue eyes intense as he waited for her response.

"Yes, I should think so." She replied.

He jokingly let out a sigh of relief and Marie laughed, grabbing the door knob.

"Great. Well then, have a good night Marie."

"You too Gavin."

A few awkward seconds passed until he finally turned to go. Marie opened the door to her father's home. She found her way to her room and fell asleep rather quickly with a mind foggy, presumably from all the sake.

Her dreams were, however, much sharper.