The cloth in his hand absolutely reeked with the solution he was using, to clean the picture frame of the painting, which he had been commissioned to restore. Rumald had already popped the painting from its frame and was bent over his workbench, carefully but firmly rubbing at the dirt on the frame. He breathed in time with his rubbing, keenly eyeing the area he was cleaning. After the busy morning he had had - addressing tenants' complaints, visiting Marco at the old picture house, packing items at the warehouse to send out the next day, organising paperwork for his new business - it was nice to just stop and relax. It may not have been everyone's cup of tea, but this was the best way, Rumald knew to relax himself, killing the endless thoughts in his head.

Working on the ottoman and the picture frame were the only times he had had a moments peace from his worries. The encounter with Cora was remaining in the shadows of his mind. After all this time, why would she suddenly be interested in him and want to have him as her partner again. No doubt it had something to do with Belle, with seeing them dance in Boston, but… Why? Which was what was troubling him the most. She has an agenda, not knowing what it was, was going to keep their conversation going over and over in his head.

The bell in the front of the shop rang out and he faintly heard the sound of the door click shut. Dove was not due back and he was probably going straight home after getting back from Freeport. Squinting his gaze, Rumald stared at the curtained doorway, patiently waiting for whoever it was to announce themselves or come through to the back of the shop.

"Rumald?"

He breathed easier at hearing Belle call his name. "I'm back here."

The curtain moved aside and Belle stepped through smiling. "Hey, I just wanted to see if you wanted to do anything after practise?"

"Course." Rumald dumped the cloth on the workbench.

"The girls were talking about meeting at Rabbit Hole. We could go back to my room afterwards." She suggested, becoming shy towards the end.

He smiled stepping off the stool, reaching a hand out for her. "Miss French," He crooned as Belle slipped her hand into his and he tugged her into him, wrapping his arms about her. "If you're trying to bed me, it's going to take a lot more than cheap drinks and nasty food at the Rabbit Hole."

"Hmm…" she grinned, stroking a finger down the side of his face. "Now you want to start playing hard to get?"

Rumald brought hand up to his chest, telling her earnestly. "I do have some self-respect; I'll have you know."

Pulling a face at him and pushing against his chest, Belle turned her nose up at him. "You also have a very smelly hand."

"Oh, sorry." He let her go and threw the hand in question down to his, whilst gesturing to where he had been working. It's the cleaning solution I'm using."

"Smells like something died in it." Her nose was scrunched up as she inspected his workbench.

"Probably could kill someone with it." Rumald supposed, picking up the cloth he had been using, moving it to the other of the workbench, away from Belle.

Belle took a step back from his workbench. "I'm gonna leave you to your stinky work and I'll meet you outside the Rabbit Hole?"

"Yep." He smiled at her and leant in to press a quick kiss to her lips.

"Make sure you wash that off your hands." She advised him on her way to the curtained doorway. "Otherwise, you're not the only one playing hard to get later."

Rumald smirked. "I'll wash and change before I meet you."

Stopping in the doorway, holding the curtain open, Belle waggled her eyebrows at him. "Maybe I should come back and watch you."

"If you don't watch it, you'll miss your practise and I'll have you on this workbench." He warned, ending his threat by showing her a sly smile.

She pressed the front of herself against the doorway, telling him. "Promises, promises, Mr Gold."

"Go." Rumald pointed in the direction of the front door, smiling his amusement.

Belle bobbed into a curtsy. "Yes, sir."

Watching her disappear behind the curtain, his smile widened, painfully pushing back his cheeks. He loved how playful she could be, giving as good as she got, just as she did when she was annoyed. Casting his gaze to the picture frame, his mind wandered to the dinner they had shared at his house, when he had revealed Gaston's secret to her and she had been angry at him. A curious thought of how different that night could have ended, if he had perhaps pushed her more, made more of an effort to keep her there. Could their evening have ended with them taking their frustration out on each other? Physically punishing the other, while they selfishly pursued their own pleasure? He groaned quietly, feeling a twitch in groin at the idea of having angry sex with Belle. Their love making was passionate enough already, she would probably break him, if they did have angry sex.

Grinning at the thought, Rumald heard the bell tingle in the front of the shop and sat down on his stool. The door softly closed as he picked up his cloth, doused it in solution and started rubbing at the frame, able to clearly see where he had stopped. Smoothing his fingers over the wood, checking for blemishes, his eyes went to the curtained doorway, able to see her leaning against the doorway, cheekily smiling at him. He smiled, bringing his gaze back to the frame, imagining her waltzing down Main Street, smirking like she had a secret, daydreaming of the evening they were going to spend together.

They had spent the previous evening apart and as he had sat in his living room, nursing a glass of whiskey, while trying to read a book, Henry's interrogation had stayed with him. His questions had definitely given Rumald food for thought. For so long, he had closed himself off, refusing to allow anyone to get close to him, giving them his heart. It was not the first time he had contemplated what the future had installed for them. He had fantasied about marrying her, having children with her, living out his days with her, fulfilling her dreams… Yet that had been but a dream. Now, he had the chance to have it all and more.

The bell above the shop door tingled making his ears twitch. Looking at his watch, it was close to seven o'clock - could they have finished early tonight? Not taking a chance, Rumald launched up from the stool, unbuttoning his waistcoat, quickly removing it from his arms. Tugged and pulled the knot of his tie, removing it from the collar of his shirt, tossing both the tie and waistcoat to the other workbench.

Swiftly unbuttoning his shirt, Rumald crossed the back room to the small washroom, shouting so she could hear. "I didn't think you'd be done so soon."

Inside the little room, he pulled the cord turning on the light and pulled his arms out of the shirt sleeves. He threw it to the kitchenette, which was just outside the door, and twisted the taps on the sink before pushing down the stopper into the basin.

"Could you not help yourself, sweetheart, the idea of me getting somewhat naked without you, too much to bear?" He called out, dipping his fingers into the water to check the temperature and adjusted the taps.

Rumald smirked at his reflection. "We could always go to your room and then on to the Rabbit Hole? What do you think?"

He did not hear a reply to his questions and assumed she could not hear him with the taps running. Waiting a few more seconds, Rumald turned off the taps and began washing his face, his hands and under his arms, hearing the click of heels approaching. As he cupped his hands in the water, preparing to douse his face in water, washing the soap off, he frowned letting his gaze go to the open doorway. He did not recall Belle wearing her heels earlier. Splashing the water over his face and under his arms, he washed his hands again, lathering them up with plenty of soap to rid himself of the smell of the cleaner.

"Good evening, dear." Rumald snapped his head to the doorway, Cora was looking at him, hands clasping her handbag in front of her.

Coolly turning his attention back to the sink, he pulled the stopper from the basin and then reached for the can of deodorant on the small shelf. "What do you want?"

"Can I not come and visit you without there being an ulterior motive?" She enquired, slightly hunching her shoulders.

"I don't know, can you?" He asked, while spraying the deodorant at either armpit.

Cora's lips curled into a smile. "You know me too well, Rumald." She let out a small chuckle, taking a step through the doorway. "Of course, I came here with a reason."

Giving her a pointed look, he exchanged the deodorant for his aftershave and scented himself with it, as he repeated his original question. "What do you want, Cora?"

"I've already told you what I want." She stated flatly to him.

He returned the aftershave to the shelf. "And I told you, quite clearly, no."

Her eyes lowered to his chest as her hand reached out to touch him. "Age has been kind to you, dear. You look as fit as you did over a decade ago."

"Get out, Cora." Rumald ordered as he stepped around her to leave the washroom, swatting her hand away from him.

Hissing a breath out through his nose, he marched to the cabinet where he kept small delicate items and bent down to open one of the cupboards, and grabbed one of the shirts, slamming the door shut as he stood. His head shook from side to side, seething that she was here, and snapped out the clean shirt.

"I want to make a deal, Rumald." Cora smoothly told him.

"I'm not interested in making any deals with you." He told her, delving an arm into the shirt and reached round to shove his other arm into the other sleeve.

"I think you'd be interested to make this deal." She paused, mostly for effect. "When you know who it involves."

Rumald focused on fastening the buttons of his shirt, ignoring her. He worked his way up from the bottom of his shirt, mindful of her being behind him. Her heels clicked closer to him. Refusing to look at her, he continued with his buttons, but froze when something touched his back. Frowning, Rumald tried to decipher what sharp object was touching his back - a knife, perhaps? She had broken his heart years ago and had finally come to finish off the job, was that her plan?

"If you agree to be my dance partner again, I promise I'll leave them alone." Cora told him as the sharp object turned into her blunt fingertip, following the line of his back down to the waist of his pants.

Angling his head to barely see her, he fell for her decisive prod. "Who?"

Her hand caressed its way up his back. "Who to start with… Regina," He didn't show any outward sign of recognition. "Neal" His shoulders instantly tensed at her mentioning his son's name. "And Belle, of course."

Rumald whipped round so fast, he was not even aware of what he was doing as he grabbed Cora and flung her round to slam her backwards into the cabinet, his hand grasping her throat. There was no alarm in her eyes. What he saw made him feel sick as he recognised the look of lust on her face. His hold wavered, torn between letting her go and getting as far as could from her or to threaten to do something much worse to her, if she so much as carried out her plan.

Sensing he was in turmoil, Cora placed her hand on his chest, appreciating the small amount of flesh she saw, where he had not finished buttoning his shirt. "Like I said, be my dance partner and I'll leave them alone."

"This is just a sick game." He pushed himself away from her, putting distance between them, vainly wiping away the feel of her hand on his chest.

"One that I intend to win." Her smile was pure evil.

Rumald scowled at her. "And I intend on not playing your stupid game!"

"Let's see, shall we…?" She gazed off to the shelving, pouting a lip in thought, and began to run through her scenario. "For Regina, I'd just sabotage her exhibition, I've already started laying the groundwork for that, as you're well aware, and I'll destroy her studio. All that hard work, gone, because you wouldn't agree to do this one simple thing."

"Cora, get out!" He flung his hand, motioning for her to leave.

"Then we have precious Neal." Cora grinned at him. "The apple of his father's eye…" She dipped her head to the side and said. "I'm sure his job is coming up for review soon at his firm. There's been talk that someone in the department had been leaking their designs to another firm. They've lost contracts over it as their competitors have been winning them, presenting their designs as their own. Someone's got to take the fall for it." She giggled. "It'll ruin his career and you could've saved him."

His brow hung heavily over his eyes as he stared in disbelief, at a loss for why the woman he had once loved, shared everything with, was now coming after him. He had given her everything and she had been the one to leave him, so why did this feel like she was punishing him?

Cora titled her face down, giving him a bashful glance. "My piece de resistance. The one that will hurt the most as I've seen you've grown… Rather fond of her." She raised her head to face him properly. "Belle."

"You leave her alone!" Rumald snarled.

"She loves that library, it would be a shame, if the council had to close it." Her gaze drifted to the ceiling as she thought it through. "I suppose she'll survive losing her job, a little heartbroken about it, but she'd be okay to begin with...But, then she wouldn't be able to afford Granny's. She seems to be estranged from her father at the moment. So, she wouldn't go to him."

He held back from saying anything, feeling there was more to come, as Cora continued. "She'd become homeless, jobless and wouldn't have any prospects left here in Storybrooke. Guess, she'd have to leave town to find another job, because we both know, jobs don't come up that often in this town, with it being such a tight knit community."

"I'd take care of her." He whispered, his heart breaking with what Cora had planned for Belle.

"Oh, she won't come to you, dear." She grinned evilly at him. "Because you are going to break her heart."

"What?!" Rumald exclaimed. "I wouldn't do that to her! Never!"

Cora sauntered up to him, delivering her handbag to a workbench at the same time, saying. "Whichever one you choose, Rumald, you have to end things with her. Either you break her heart or I'll destroy her, telling her, how we secretly met at the party."

"There was nothing secretive about it! You found me! There was no 'we' involved." He argued her point.

She tried to cup his face with her hand, but he batted it away, as she said. "I know you well enough, to know you haven't told her. I also know, her ex-fiance cheated on her. It's not going to take too much for her to believe it, seeing as you're up to your old tricks."

"Before I lose my temper, get the fuck out of my shop!" He warned in a menacing tone.

"I love it when you lose your temper!" Cora sounded thrilled by his warning, taking a large step into him, grabbing him by the front of his shirt as she said seductively to him. "Do you still think about us? We could never wait, could we? In the car, here in your shop, the dance studio, the basement…" She pulled him closer, pressing herself to him. "Your desk in your study."

"No, I don't." Rumald said, his lip turning up in disgust.

Her gaze flicked up to meet his gaze before she yanked at the front of his shirt, pinging off buttons and reopening his shirt. There was a flurry of hands, one fighting to dominate, one fighting to fend off the other pair of hands. Catching a hold of her wrists, Rumald charged her backwards and shoved her into the cabinet, making the large heavy unit thud into the wall as it tipped from their force.

"I DON'T WANT YOU!" He yelled, spitting uncontrollably with his words as his temper passed boiling point.

"That's it, my love." Cora showed him a sultry smile. "Lose it and we'll fuck like we used to." She told him, leaning forward to capture his lips.

"What? No!" Rumald shook his head, letting go of her wrists and stepped back. "Just get the fuck out! We're done!"

She mirrored him, shaking her head at him, telling him as she drifted by him. "We'll never be over."

His chest felt tight as he breathed heavily, his chest quickly rose and fell, the flaps of his ruined shirt wafted back and forth. The click of heels became distant and quieter. Turning his head slightly, he waited for the bell to ring above the door and the distinct sound of it closing, giving the bell one more jostle, before he allowed himself to react. As soon as he heard it, Rumald ripped the shirt from his arms, flung it off somewhere, and kicked out at the cabinet, yelling at the top of his lungs. A panel for a draw gave way under his foot, making him stumble forward, but he used the momentum of his stumble to punch higher at the cabinet. He hit it again, cursing the bitch with every name under the sun. Throwing another punch, his temper subsided as his sorrow overtook it, and he slumped his weight against the front of the cabinet, not knowing what to do.

The situation was surreal. A decade ago, Rumald would have gladly taken her back, accepting any excuse she had given him, because he loved her. Growing wiser to her, seeing their relationship for what it was, he would never go back to her. She was the opposite spectrum to Belle, bringing out the worst in him. Squeezing his eyes shut, stemming the tears welling behind his eyelids, Rumald hated the man he had been with her and had lost so much because of her.

A grandfather clock in the front of the shop began to chime, signalling it was seven o'clock. Pushing himself away from the cabinet, Rumald checked his watch to see it was seven. He had to get ready to meet Belle. Stopping down, he opened the cabinet, collected a shirt and calmly closed the cabinet door. Shaking out the shirt, preparing to put it on, Rumald fed an arm into it and then the other, shell-shocked by Cora's scheme. Slowly he buttoned up his shirt, vaguely seeing white dots on the floor, the evidence of Cora tearing open his shirt. He swallowed the bile taste in his mouth, sickened by her again touching him. Lifting his gaze from the floor, Rumald worked the tails of his shirt down into his pants as he took a few steps to the coat stand, ready to collect his suit jacket and overcoat. He would have put a tie and waistcoat on, but he had a strong urge to get out of the shop and get to Belle.

Rumald locked the back door and turned off the lights as he headed to the front, putting on his suit jacket and overcoat, and exited the front of the shop with the bell signalling his departure. With his hand on the handle, he took in a deep breath, feeling uneasy as he looked back into his shop, through the glass in the door. He pushed him on, needing to get to Belle, and locked the door.

"Hey!" His shoulders slumped down as he turned to confront the voice.

"Belle!" He said her name like he had not seen her in years.

"I thought you might have gotten caught up in your little project." She waved a hand at the shop. "So, I came to liberate you."

Rumald walked up to her, smiling. "Is that your excuse?"

Her tongue peeped out between her lips, wetting her top lip, before she drew in her bottom lip to bite it briefly. "I may have fancied catching my boyfriend in a slightly undressed state."

"I'm sorry to disappoint you, sweetheart." He held his hand out for her to take it, whilst he started to walk away from the shop.

"You haven't disappointed me." Belle grinned as she slipped her hand into his and leaned into him, matching his stride. "Just means I get the pleasure of taking your clothes off."

"Oh, the pleasure will definitely be all mine, dearie." He told her, returning her grin.

Being with her, did make him feel slightly better, though a wedge of guilt had firmly planted itself in his chest. Rumald should tell her, pull her to one side and tell her exactly what had happened in New York and what had happened in his shop tonight. He should tell her, what Cora wanted and what she was going to do, if she didn't get what she wanted. He should trust her with it, but then it was not really a question of trusting her. The fact he had given his heart to her, was proof he trusted her more than anyone else.

A lifetime of being let down, being abandoned, having to deal with things on his own, never knowing who was going to strike him next, had taught him to keep things to himself. He took care of everything without relying on anyone else, because the times he did, his underlying distrust of people was always proven to be right.

Rumald schooled his features, maintaining a passive face, as they strolled by Grannies, heading to the Rabbit Hole. While he murmured agreeable noises at the right moments, to whatever Belle was telling him about their practise session, his thoughts were running away from him, concocting a plan, which would counteract Cora's. He had no clue, what he was going to do with Cora centring her attention on all three of them. It would not be a simple balancing act as while his attention was on one of them, or at least two of them, she could thwart him by further attacking the one being neglected. Rubbing at his forehead with his fingers, Rumald cursed the bitch and her scheming. Regina had been right; this was his fault, for naively developing Cora skill to manipulate people, so he must contend with this himself.