A/N: It took me a little bit to come up with the idea for this chapter. But I hope you all enjoy it. (-; The Once Season One DVD gave me a little inspiration as well.

Chapter Twenty-Five

She loves me, she loves me not, she loves me, she loves me not…

Belle found him in the bedroom, plucking the petals off the roses. Each petal was tossed out the window as Jefferson's mood plummeted into a swirling dark spiral. If Rumpelstiltskin caught him ruining the roses, Jefferson would surely get the cane.

"You know, in Wonderland the Queen of Hearts always had her roses painted red," he muttered without glancing up at her. He knew she was there and watching.

"How do you paint a rose red?" Belle's smile glowed for him as she occupied the spot beside him, resting her elbows on the windowsill. Outside, the woods were eternally quiet. The cabin had settled down now that Emma was no longer in their company.

"Not sure. It's not exactly a hobby of mine. The Queen never did like white roses." Another petal plucked. Belle watched it as the wind carried it off.

"You don't seem to like red roses," she pointed out, gently rescuing the rose from Jefferson's steel grip. Only three petals were left, the stem drooping miserably. Poor thing.

Jefferson gazed off into the woods, but she knew his mind was elsewhere.

"About Emma—" Jefferson's palm slapped against the windowsill, halting her words. An air of sadness swarmed him, making his jaw clench tightly and his dark eyes pool with misery.

"I'm an idiot. Emma will never open her mind. I should have known…" His words trailed off and Belle tilted her head curiously. Should have known what? Should have known that Emma could never….love him? He's heartbroken, she realized with a soft gasp.

"Listen…if it's meant to be, then it will be. But it doesn't mean you still can't fight for it," she sincerely assured him. Jefferson was a friend; she didn't like to see him depressed and hurt.

"And I suppose you are the expert on true love?" His voice was hard, yet emotionless. His gaze never locked with hers, he only saw the woods and the distance beyond it. Belle reached out to rest a calm hand over his own.

"No, I am far from an expert. Honestly, I'm still trying to figure it out myself. All I know is that…love is layered. Sometimes it can be difficult to hold onto. Once it's gone, who knows how long it will be before it returns?"

Jefferson shifted his head to look down at her wondrously. She smiled and clasped his hand warmly.

"If you truly love Emma, then tell her! Find her and tell her how you really feel." Jefferson's eyes gleamed with renewed life and hope as her words sunk in. All she wanted was for him to be happy. Then Jefferson frowned with thought.

"Are you happy? With him?"

Jefferson's eyes trailed across the room to the bedroom door. Beyond it, in the main room, Rumpelstiltskin would likely be waiting. Knowing him, he would be curious enough to listen in.

"Yes," she answered automatically. It made her heart swell with emotion until she could hardly breathe. "I love him. I remember the days before he…sent me away from his castle. He was nothing but kind to me."

Belle's attention was focused on the rose, her dreamy eyes reminiscing about a happier time. She never noticed Jefferson's grim change in behavior.

"Kind?" The harshness of the word was lost on her as she only nodded. Oh, there was that day when he gave her the rose and the time he caught her in his arms…Jefferson's dry chuckle shook her free of the memories. "He never told you."

It wasn't a question. It was a statement—simple fact. Belle felt a chill skate across the scars of her back.

"Tell me what?" Jefferson's lips descended into an anxious line, his body stiffening like a statue. He was debating whether to tell her at all. Belle gripped his arm with a silent, pleading message: Please. Jefferson rubbed his jaw and swore under his breath. Whatever it was, it was not good.

"After I returned to Wonderland, I saw the memory in a looking glass. I was thinking of you." A rosy blush clouded her cheeks, but her eyes still questioned. "Belle, why do you think your fiancé went missing?"

Belle's heart fluttered before it stopped completely. The smile slipped from her lips as she realized Jefferson was being serious.

Gaston went missing? While she was staying in Rumpelstiltskin's castle? Or here in Storybrooke? But she could read it in Jefferson's face and she knew it had nothing to do with this small, provincial town.

"Maybe I'll take your advice. But as I said, you're not really an expert on true love, Belle. No one is."

Jefferson stalked past her to the bedroom door. A minute later she heard his boots pause in the main room. Was Rumpelstiltskin there? Would Jefferson dare to say something? But, no: there was the opening and closing of the cabin door.

Call it instinct, but Belle did not think Jefferson was simply venturing out to get more firewood. As a matter of fact, she didn't think he would be returning, either.

Goodbye, Jefferson. Another red petal fluttered to the ground.

…..

Emma stumbled through the door and immediately dropped her leather jacket off to the side. She was tired, she was sore, and all she wanted to do was drink away the memory of the last twenty-four hours. Especially if it meant dealing with Madame Mayor about her job inconsistencies.

Too bad Mary Margaret was blocking the path to the fridge. Emma had never seen Mary Margaret more than upset, but tonight…the only way to describe it was flat-out pissed off.

"Oh. Thought you'd left," she coldly remarked. Emma was fairly certain the room temperature just dropped ten degrees. She had no strength left to deal with a fight—hell, she'd been fighting all night, after all.

"Mary Margaret—" Her roommate slammed the cup she was holding down on the table. A slew of cocoa splattered the tabletop.

"Where were you? Henry was worried sick about you. We thought you left town."

No answer. Emma would violate the deal she made with Gold if she explained. You do not breathe a word of what has occurred in this cabin. Mary Margaret shook her head pitifully.

"Do you remember what you told me? You said we have to stick together. That we're like family."

Each word pierced Emma's lungs, her breath failing her. Heat coursed along her neck, only growing hotter with the skipping track in her mind warning her that an explanation was out of the question. Damn you, Gold.

"I can't tell you where I've been…but I didn't leave town," she protested. The keys were still clutched in her hand—they began digging into her palm. Mary Margaret's eyebrows knit together in annoyance.

"Oh, well that's a relief, Emma. It's good to know you were somewhere. What about Henry?" Mary Margaret's green eyes bored into her, but Emma forced herself not to break her gaze. Oh, she was cursing Gold's name ten times over.

"If leaving would be better for him, I would do it in a heartbeat," she murmured. It was true. If for a second she thought Henry would be better off without her, she'd already be in her Bug. Painful as it was, she only wanted the best for him.

"So after all this time of fighting for him, you would just give up? Leave him lonely and depressed, heartbroken in Regina's care? Because that's a better, stable home for him?" It squeezed Emma's heart because she knew that staying with Regina would not give him his best shot. Mary Margaret's glare verified that. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

This time, Emma did avert her gaze to the floorboards because she just could not answer that question. In a minute, she was convinced Mary Margaret would actually ground her and send her to her room.

So Emma beat her to the punch. She even slammed her door for full effect.

…..

It was a half hour before Belle emerged from the bedroom. A half hour filled with pacing and restless questioning over what Jefferson had said.

Rumpelstiltskin's back was facing her, kneeling as he stoked the flames of the fire. He was using the cane for support, but she could still see the strain in his muscles. Part of her kept forgetting that he was but an ordinary man in this world—sometimes she expected to see that gold-skinned creature he had once been.

Soundlessly, Belle crossed to the window and edged it open, if only to announce her presence. A cool breeze whispered in, lifting her hair from her shoulders. She could feel his eyes watching her, though he did not speak. He would wait for her.

The breeze calmed her nerves. A dove swooped down and settled on the windowsill next to her arm, cooing as she drew her hand away in surprise. A sense of déjà vu washed over her as she studied it, so delicate and white…with two odd patches of black spotting its eyes.

"Is that…the same dove that brought news of the war?" There was a grunt and then the distinct hollow tapping of the cane as he approached her. Miraculously, the dove stayed as his hand reached out to stroke its feathers.

"Ah, yes. One and the same. Quite the adventure-seeker," Rumpelstiltskin said before lowering his hand to his side. Belle smiled as the bird cocked its head at her. It was as if it, too, were revisiting an old memory.

"It was brought to this world, too," she whispered in awe.

There was a shift of clothing and the heat between them intensified as he moved closer without really touching her. A hint of his cologne tickled her nose and she savored the smell—it was part of him, after all.

"Indeed," he sighed. "The same dove, I believe, that triggered your first…escape attempt." Belle's smile dipped a little as the memory resurfaced from the depths of her awakened mind.

The dining room…Rumpelstiltskin's golden hands unfurling the small scroll of parchment to announce the end of the third Ogre War…running through the door while his back was turned only to somehow fall right back into the dining room. It was hardly an escape because escape from this man was impossible.

"My only escape attempt," she corrected, turning to him at last. "After that, you let me go, remember?" The corners of his mouth lifted. One of his hands reached out to tuck a piece of her fallen hair behind her ear.

"Yes…and then you came back," he recounted. A first and final kiss before the end of their happiness in that world. And she was happy with him. That unspoken question nudged her mind, delving under her skin. Jefferson had to be misunderstood.

"Gaston must have made it to this world too, am I right?"

Belle glanced up at his face from under her eyelashes. Lines etched into his forehead and made his brown eyes seem worn. Oh, how she wanted him to tell her yes—her once-ago fiancé was here, living a hazy existence.

Rumpelstiltskin was still for a long time. His face was placid now, but his brown eyes avoided anything but the cabin door. Was he considering running from the question? That alone spoke volumes.

"I believe…he is one of the countless millions suffering here," he vaguely responded. To another being, it would surely be an affirmative. To her, it was a play on words spoken with a sharp tongue. It could mean anything.

"Because of Regina? Or…because of you?" The accusation pained her heart, even more so when Rumpelstiltskin did not offer an answer. Belle shook her head, refusing to believe it. "What did you…?"

It hit her like a brick wall. The rose. Jefferson had been plucking the petals off roses, had stared pointedly at the withering rose in her hand…Rumpelstiltskin bowing elegantly as he offered her—

"The rose," she whispered with frightening realization. Even now, his attention was focused elsewhere and not on her. If anything, it only solidified the truth. "You told me it was a beggar woman selling roses." Rumpelstiltskin's tongue darted out to lick his lips, but words were missing. He was not denying her accusations, but he did not dare confirm them, either. "It was Gaston, wasn't it?"

"In my account, the fool was aiming a sword at my heart. In this world, it is known as self-defense." There. The truth was known.

Belle's lips parted and she struggled for even a strand of coherent thought. Even worse was the fact that her imagination was providing the image of Gaston disappearing into a cloud of magic and coming out as a delicate rose.

"Self-defense? A sword cannot kill you, Rumpelstiltskin. Your solution was to turn him into a rose?" Dusty brown hair cascaded across his face, shielding his eyes from her. Dark brown eyes burning a hole into the floor.

"My other option was to transform him into a snail and crush him, but that would have left a nasty stain on my carpet. You'd have had to bend over for hours scrubbing it out." A thin chuckle rose from his throat as if he just found a bit of humor there. "I was doing you a favor."

Belle's mouth fell open in a most un-lady-like way. Could her ears be deceiving her? Or was she truly listening to him justifying the act of doing away with Gaston? In his eyes, it would have seemed as if he had done nothing wrong—Gaston was the enemy.

"A favor? Oh, gods…I snipped it! While I was telling you my story, I snipped the rose! Does that mean…are his…" Belle glanced down at her lower body and paled. In her mind, she felt the heaviness of those shears and heard the metallic sound of the blades as an inch of the rose was cut.

"He's better off without them," Rumpelstiltskin quipped.

He found this amusing. He honestly thought this scenario something to giggle about. Belle's heart thudded in her chest as she tried desperately to wrap her head around it.

"You broke your deal," she whispered. Instantly, the amusement vanished from his face as she dared question the sanctity of his word. "You promised that no one in my village would be harmed. That included Gaston."

Rumpelstiltskin loomed over her, his expression darkening. One of his slender fingers pressed against Belle's lips, silencing her off. Their bodies were only an inch apart now—he was so close, she could feel his warm breath on her skin.

"First, dearie….I never break my word. I've only ever broken one deal and that was centuries ago." Belle briefly wanted to ask what deal that was, but a second finger joined the first against her lips. "Second, your negotiation implied that everyone in your little village would live. Gaston was very much alive, just in a different form than he was comfortable with. You were the one holding the scissors, Belle. Not me." One of his fingers traced the upper curve of her lip and it sent a tingling sensation to her toes. "I never break my deals."

Belle thought about arguing it further, but what was the point? What occurred with Gaston had been a loophole; the deal had never been compromised. Despite her fiancé's newly transformed state, she had still belonged to him. Forever.

Gently, Belle caught his fingers in her own, her thumb rubbing over his skin. His brown eyes watched her intently as she lifted them to her lips again and laid butterfly kisses over the pads of his fingers.

"You never break your deals, Rumpelstiltskin. Except for the time you decided to release me."

Ah, the root of the problem, then. Belle had severely hoped that the incident with Gaston had destroyed their contract. That way, everything between them afterwards would have been meaningful beyond words; she would not have been his prisoner. The heartache she suffered would have been less due to the sense that she might not have belonged to him in that cell as he ordered her to go.

But, no. The deal had never been broken. Belle had been his…until he'd decided otherwise.

"Belle," he murmured as he slipped his hands from her grasp and stroked the rich strands of her hair. "It was a mistake. I will not let anything happen to you again." His arm wrapped around her waist and he held her close. She buried her face in his shoulder and soaked in his warmth.

"Do I have your word, Rumpelstiltskin?" His arms tightened around her hips in response. A light kiss on the crown of her head.

"You have my word."

….

Just a fun fact: the idea of the escape attempt and the dove came from a Skin Deep commentary on the DVD. It was a commentary by Robert Carlyle and Jane Espenson (the writer) where they mentioned a cut scene where news arrived at his castle about the end of the Ogre War and Belle then attempted to escape once she knew that her village was safe. I found it pretty interesting, so I decided to add it in.

Thanks are in order for my lovely reviewers! Here's to: prttykitty7728, peacesista123, rene10, Sheherazade's Fable, discotimelord, Bluecanbegreen, thedoctorsgirl42, Grace5231973, White Shade (yes, I read that story before—it is definitely well-written), Romance and Musicals, writindownsouth, and megumisakura.

Thank you all for the support!