The pounding on the door came sometime toward midnight. Snow rolled over in bed and hit him on the shoulder. "David, what the hell is that?"

He rolled his eyes, even though it was dark and he knew she couldn't see him. There was no doubt, none at all, as to who would show up at his house near midnight sounding like a herd of elephants. "Gold," he muttered.

"Oh God," Mary Margaret uttered and pulled the covers back up over herself. "Wake me when it's over."

David managed to get himself out of bed a moment later, grabbing a robe and wrapping it around his shirtless upper body. He felt like he needed some sort of armor against the man and standing there with his chest bare in front of him just felt…awkward at best.

When he threw the door open, he found Gold leaning heavily against the door frame, his hair sticking out on end, his eyes squinting at the sudden light. "This is all your fault." The words were spoken with an accent thicker than David was used to hearing from him.

"Have you been drinking?"

Gold thrust a finger out toward David and nearly lost his balance, gripping the doorframe hard with the hand holding his cane. "No," he finally managed to say. David crossed his arms over his chest. "Ok maybe a little." The words were accompanied by a bit of a self-deprecating smile.

"So exactly what is my fault again?"

"Can I come in?" Gold responded with.

"No."

"Fine then," Gold said and he was almost sure that he would turn and walk off. He was admittedly relieved at the thought, but at the same time he was sure that Mary Margaret, annoyed though she might be, would send him right out into the night after the man.

"What is going on?" David finally asked as Gold slumped against the door frame.

"You made me do it," Gold pointed out, almost reasonably, as if he expected David to know exactly what he was on about.

"Do what exactly?"

"You know." And another finger was pointed at him.

"Humor me for a moment." He tried to keep the exasperated tone from his voice, but he wasn't quite sure he succeeded. "Pretend I'm a complete idiot…"

"You are," Gold shot back.

"I know you don't mean that," David responded with. Gold might often act like that, might treat David like he was a recalcitrant child. But he knew there was more behind the sarcasm than others might think. It was why he accepted him, sarcastic rejoinders, occasional nastiness and all.

"Whatever," Gold said with a wave of his hand. David just stood with his arms across his chest, waiting. Then finally… "You made me ask her out."

"What?" The word exploded from him before he could stop it. "You asked her out…on a date?"

Gold narrowed his eyes on him. "Just like you told me to…"

"Oh no, you can't pin this one on me. I told you to get her out of the house. I did not tell you to ask her on a date." At that David paused and he couldn't stop the grin breaking out on his face. "So she said no then?"

Gold growled something entirely incoherent. And David just smiled. He hadn't expected the bastard to actually ask her out, but it sounded like the end result was a good one for all involved.

"So why are you here complaining again?" he asked after Gold seemed unwilling to say anything further. The man was a contradiction at all times. He always expected him to react one way. The normal way. The way everyone else would. It was clear he was crazy about Belle French. It was written into everything he did. The way he moved around her. The way he spoke of her. Even the way he didn't speak of her, carefully, as if he was afraid to wear his heart on his sleeve.

And he was fairly certain that she felt the same way. So if his accidentally getting Gold to ask her out led to, well, whatever it might lead to, he couldn't be happier.

"Because," Gold began, the word trailing off in another coherent growl.

"Go home, Mr. Gold," came the voice from behind him and he turned to see Mary Margaret standing there. He didn't quite know how she managed to look both annoyed and amused at the same time, but somehow she managed it rather well. Even in the middle of the night, holding baby Emma on her hip. She was amazing, this wife of his, and there were days he never quite understood how she ended up falling in love with a stodgy sheep farmer.

"I…" Gold started, one hand raised.

And then he turned and walked off.

Just like that.

David turned to look back at Mary Margaret. "You're amazing, you know that?"

"Apparently even drunk bastards listen to me." She sounded smug. "What was that about anyway?" she asked as they turned to walk back inside.

"He asked Belle out on a date."

Mary Margaret paused for a moment. "Well, it's about time."

David let out a laugh as he shut the door behind them.

Belle couldn't quite be certain that Gold had meant that he wanted to go out on a real date. He had seemed caught between admitting that was what he wanted and running. The latter seemed so much more likely. She suspected he had been running for a long time. From feelings, from love, from anything except his dogs and sheep. He ran when they kissed. He ran when they nearly had sex.

The night before she had heard him leave the house and she had been so very sure that he had run again.

But it was his house.

And he came back, steps unsteady. She suspected he had been drinking and she hoped that somehow whatever demons had possessed him allowed him a little freedom for that night. She suspected that even a short time would bring him much needed relief.

So when she set to getting ready that next evening, she wasn't sure what to expect. She wasn't even sure he would be there by the time she finished making herself presentable. So far he had disappeared every time she attempted to get closer to him, every time something happened that led to a bit of intimacy.

But he was there when she came downstairs, waiting in the living room. He turned when she walked in and she hesitated when he said nothing, simply stared for a moment. And then finally… "Hey."

"Hey?" She felt a little laughter bubble up. "Is that all I get?" She kept her voice purposely teasing. She didn't want to scare him off and she knew that would be all too easy to do.

"I…"

Belle shook her head and laughed lightly. "I'm just teasing, Tavish." She stepped closer, put one hand on his arm. "Relax," she whispered. "I don't bite." She let the last thought hang, let the implication of unless you want me to hang in the air.

"Right. Of course." He put his hand over hers briefly. "Shall we then?"

Belle offered up a somewhat awkward curtsey. "Yes we shall."

It was a good start, she realized. Awkward, a little bit odd, but a good start nonetheless. Gold escorted her to his truck and gave it a somewhat rueful look. "I'm sorry this is all I have."

"It's perfect," she responded with as he helped her in and retreated to his side of the vehicle. She didn't need fancy cars, some sort of Porsche or Cadillac. She was content with Gold's old pick-up truck. She'd even be content with Granny's Diner, though he drove right past it without sparing it a glance.

They ultimately ended up at a small Italian restaurant on the outskirts of town. Belle had never even noticed it, though she was sure she had driven past it any number of times. It was small and set back from the road a bit, the sign a little tilted, a little rusty. When he stopped in front of the place, she turned toward him and just raised one eyebrow.

"The atmosphere isn't much but trust me, the food's delicious and the service is the best you'll get in town." He looked almost sheepish as he spoke.

"There's no need to apologize," Belle pointed out.

"Right," he answered with and the smile he gave her melted her insides just a little. Well, maybe more than a little. She still had no idea what they were doing here, no idea what was going on exactly. But she was just going to take it as it came.

The hostess seated them almost immediately. There were no reservations at the little restaurant, but it also seemed to be mostly empty, just a few people at one table and a couple far in the back. Gold's explanation of They do take-out was an interesting one. He looked sheepish, nervous, as if he were taking her to a place that she'd run screaming from.

But Belle was not a high society girl, not by a long-shot. She had grown up middle-class and ended up poor. Even going out to a restaurant was a luxury she and her father hadn't been able to afford in a long time.

"It's lovely," she finally said and gave him a pointed look.

"I'm glad." And he looked visibly relieved at the words. The waitress came and took their order. Gold suggested a Merlot and Belle was all too happy to indulge a little bit. She wasn't generally much of a drinker, trips to The Rabbit Hole excepted, but it seemed like a good idea. Liquid courage and all that.

She was sure he needed it too.

He looked like he was turning a bit green around the gills after he asked her, after all.

The waitress returned with their wine much faster than Belle had anticipated. She was still studying the menu. Decisions about food had never been her strong suit. She gave Gold a bit of a sheepish look. "I'm afraid I like food just a little bit too much."

"I hadn't noticed," he said offhandedly and she laughed.

"Well, I suppose that's a good thing." She leaned forward. "Probably all that time on the farm doing chores helps."

"Indeed," was his quick response and she was almost sure that there was a bit of a pink tint to his cheeks, though she was sure he'd deny that.

"Appetizer?" the waitress suggested and Belle turned to find her watching them with a bit of an amused glint in her eyes. Belle wanted to point out it was a first date, if that was indeed what it was, but she suspected the waitress knew.

"I…" Belle started to say.

"Calamari?" Gold suggested, glancing down at the menu for a moment before letting his eyes meet hers.

"Squid?" Belle shot back with, her nose crinkling up a little bit.

"Have you ever had it?" There was a smirk on his face and she was sure there was a bit of a dare behind his words.

"Well, no."

"Then calamari it is." He waved one hand gracefully in the air and the waitress left with grin on her face.

"Really?" Belle asked.

"Really," Gold responded with. "Don't tell me you're someone who doesn't like a bit of an adventure."

"Not with my food." And then she paused. "Well, not usually. Or sometimes, at least. I did once try chocolate-covered ants," she admitted.

"Then squid should be nothing."

Her smirk echoed his own as she leaned back and took a sip of her wine. "So…" she said after a moment of silence.

"So," he responded with.

Belle gave a little huff of laughter. "This is awkward."

"First dates often are." And she loved the way he looked almost shocked when he spoke it out loud.

"So this is a date then?"

"I guess so?"

"For the person asking me out, you sure seem rather unclear on what this is exactly."

He took a moment to respond and when he did, there was a truth behind his words that made her heart flip. "I am." She wasn't quite sure he was talking about their date at that moment.

The waitress chose that moment to return and took their orders, disappearing again and leaving them in silence. Belle bit her lip and looked around the room before talking. "So tell me about yourself."

Gold gave a snort but didn't respond.

"Isn't that the way things are supposed to start on dates?" she asked and batted her eyelashes.

"So you've been on a lot of dates then?" he shot back.

"Hardly." The word was flat, but not annoyed. She had gone on a few over the years, usually with men she had no interest in but felt obligated to go out with. Boorish types who yawned when she spoke of the books she was reading and who often brought the conversation back to their favorite topic…themselves. "But I've seen enough movies to know how they're supposed to go."

"I don't think there's any standard way, really."

"So you've been on a lot then?" She asked it innocently, but a part of her wondered. He kept everything to himself, kept his personal life close to his vest, so to speak. He would share things about his life growing up, about his dogs and the dogs he had had once had, silly stories about sheep and herding gone wrong. But anything else seemed to shut him down immediately.

His tongue darted out to wet his lips, just a small gesture. "No," he finally said.

Belle leaned forward and put her hand over his. "Don't go quiet on me now." The words were firm, but gentle at the same time. "I'm not going to run if you tell me the truth."

His eyes met hers for a moment before sliding away. "I haven't been out with a woman…since my divorce." The last was said in a rush and he pulled back slightly.

"I didn't know you'd been married," Belle finally managed to get out. There were secrets there, a pain that he wasn't quite able to hide.

"Yes, well, I don't think many do." He tried to be flippant about it, waving one hand in the air, but the creases at the corner of his eyes, the furrow between his brows, told a different story.

"Unhappy?" He didn't respond right away and Belle bit her lip. She had said the wrong thing. Again. She started to apologize when he held up a hand.

"Torturous." It was just one simple word but it said everything. She didn't need to ask more, really.

"I'm sorry," she finally managed to say. "I'm prying, aren't I?"

He gave her a tight smile. "I think that's what dates are for, aren't they?" It was a deflection. That much she was certain of. But she didn't dare ask more. Though if she could admit it to herself, the word did leave her curious. And a curious Belle was often a dangerous thing. It made her want to plow ahead, to ask more, to peel back all the layers and find out what lay in the heart beneath it all.

She couldn't quite say anyone else had made her feel so desperate to peel back those layers.

"Yes, well, I suppose they are," she said instead of all the other things she wanted to say at that moment. Belle breathed a sigh of relief when the waitress appeared with their meals, disrupting the moment and dissolving the tension. With something else to focus on, the conversation turned lighter.

To dogs.

To silly childhood anecdotes.

To life ambitions. "I wanted to be an astronaut," Belle admitted, scrunching up her nose.

"What stopped you?" Gold asked, leaning forward.

"Math," she said with a bit of a self-deprecating grin. "I was lucky to be able to add two and two together to come up with four."

"It's five," he shot back and when she stared at him for a moment, his face broke out into a smirk.

"I almost believed you."

"I highly doubt that." One of his eyebrows rose and she giggled. Giggled. She glanced down at her wine glass, worried that perhaps it was getting to her, that maybe she had drunk just a little bit too much.

"I wanted to be a trash collector."

Her eyes widened slightly. "No." And then she laughed again.

"What are you laughing at? I'm serious."

"Really?" Tavish Gold, trash collector. She couldn't quite imagine it.

"Yes, really. I used to go around the farm picking up any bits of trash I found and admonishing my aunts on their messy ways."

She let out a short bark of laughter. "They must have loved that."

"They did, actually. They had imagined taking on a young boy would mean messes everywhere. But for a time at least, I was the neatest person in the entire household."

"For a time?"

"Well, I decided I wanted to be a chemist after a few short months and…well…"

"Messes everywhere," she finished for him.

It felt good to laugh, she realized, as the waitress came to clear away their meals and box up what was left. She wasn't sure she had laughed in a very long time, her mind too frantic with worry over her father. Taking another sip of her wine, she realized that this was why he had taken her out.

"Was this a pity date?" Belle finally managed to get out.

"What?"

"A pity date. You know, you take me out because you feel sorry for me? Because my father's…"

"No," he interrupted her with. "I don't do pity dates." He paused there and she watched him close his eyes for a moment. "Truth be told, I don't do dates. I haven't done dates in a very long time."

There was an honesty there, raw and exposed, behind the words, behind his eyes. He didn't blink, didn't look away. "How long?" She couldn't stop the words, curious and likely painful for him.

She was sure he wasn't going to answer but he finally sighed. "We divorced eight years ago. It seems longer though. She was gone in every way that counted long before then." There was silence after the words and she could feel him pulling away slightly, could see the distance starting to form between them.

When she reached out a hand and covered his, his eyes flashed to hers. "I…" she started to say. But what could she say? I'm sorry seemed rather inadequate. She had no understanding of where he had come from, what had happened, but there was a story there. A harsh one. A story that she knew he didn't want to tell. She could see the plea behind his eyes. "There must have been something happy?"

"My son," he answered and the way his eyes widened slightly told her he hadn't intended to tell her that much.

"You have son?" There were no traces around the house of him, so signs that a child had ever been there, no pictures of him. She had lived there for some time now and she had simply seen nothing that indicated there was a child.

He nodded and there was a tightness about his mouth that told the whole story. "He's going to be eleven soon."

"I had no idea."

She watched as his fist clenched. "Maybe we should discuss something else…"

"She took him from you," she cut him off with. She hadn't meant to, but the words slipped out before she could stop them.

"Yes." Just one simple word but it told of a world of pain.

She glanced down at her hands for a moment, drew in a deep breath. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't be asking these questions."

He was silent for a moment. "His name is Baeddan."

"That's a lovely name."

He gave a little snort of laughter. "My ex hated it."

"Well, her loss then." She reached over and touched his hand lightly again. They fell into silence and Belle wasn't quite sure if it was a companionable one or somewhat awkward. Maybe it was a bit of both. Gold sipped at his wine and didn't meet her eyes. Belle eyed the dessert menu even though she had no intention of ordering something. She had already eaten so much that she was sure he'd have to roll her home.

The waitress arrived and thankfully offered up boxes and a check. She shouldn't feel relieved. She shouldn't. It was a date and she enjoyed spending time with Gold. But the turn of conversation had her holding her breath and waiting for disaster to fall at any moment, waiting for him to get up and leave, waiting for him to tell her this was a stupid mistake.

It wasn't though.

She realized it as he stood and offered her his arm with a small smile. She realized it as he escorted her to the waiting truck and opened the door for her. His old world charm, his small smiles. No. This wasn't a stupid mistake.

It might just be the beginning of something.

When they arrived at the house, Belle turned to him with one eyebrow raised. "Well, this is somewhat awkward."

"Is it now?" There was a small smile playing about his lips and she watched one eyebrow twitch just slightly.

"You're supposed to walk me to the door and we're supposed to hesitate and debate over ending the night with a kiss or a hug."

"I see."

"But we live together, so…" She gave a small shrug.

"Yes that does complicate things a bit."

"It does." She nodded sagely and tried to keep her mouth from turning up in a smile.

"Then perhaps allow me to walk you to your room?" he offered up.

"Why Mr. Gold," she said and put her hand over her heart. "I'm not that kind of girl." He simply raised one eyebrow and she finally broke, laughter bubbling out from her. "Well, perhaps I could be talked into being that kind of girl."

"Really then?" He took a step closer and she stepped back, leaning against the door as he leaned in.

"Really." And her voice had turned husky, almost unrecognizable even to her own ears. His hand came up and brushed the hair away from her neck and she shivered just slightly.

He leaned in then and his lips met hers, soft, gentle. It lacked the hard passion of their previous kisses but made up for that completely with the way his lips brushed softly against hers. He pulled back and unlocked the door and she felt that flutter starting low in her belly again.

Would he?

After everything?

He led her inside and reached up again, his hand brushing her hair lightly. "Far be it for me to be the one to corrupt you in such a way." The words were soft, but she heard the humor behind the lilt. "I had a lovely evening, Belle."

"As did I." She reached up and covered his hand with hers and was delighted when he brought to his lips, placing a soft, chaste kiss on the back of her hand.

"Perhaps…well…perhaps we could do this again sometime?" The way his voice hesitated, the way he stammered over the words just slightly was charming. He was always so confident, always had the upper hand. She bit her lip and tried to hold back her smile as she realized that she was in control this time.

"I think that could be arranged," she finally answered.

"Well good…good then." He paused for a moment, turned away briefly before reaching out to cup her cheek for just one moment. "Then I shall bid you goodnight."

She was left watching his retreating back. But at least this time, things ended on a good note. He wasn't retreating, running scared after things got too intimate. He was simply ending what was ultimately an excellent date on a positive note.

"Goodnight Tavish." She spoke the words quietly as she turned and headed up the stairs.