Wednesday morning came too soon, but Lacey had met the deadline for her column, and she still had a job when she walked into her office.

"Racy Lacey," Cruella had responded when she sent in the final edit. "When did you become so angelic?"

"Stuff it," she said to her secondary editor.

Glass's feedback was mutual.

"Well kid, I admit I had some doubts," he said just as Lacey was about to scream. "But you pulled it off. We're getting decent comments on the new column, especially from the higher up."

"You mean from her majesty," Lacey spat, despising the woman who got her into this who mess.

"The mayor is pleased, yes," Glass relayed with a slight warning to his voice.

Lacey ignored it of course, but she didn't want to talk about that horrid woman any longer.

"What did you think?" she asked, running a finger over a book on his desk.

Glass had the audacity to laugh. "You haven't asked me that since you were an intern."

She turned a harsh glare at him and Glass finally put her out of her misery.

"I thought you put a lot of heart into it, and I know it wasn't easy stepping into something so different from what you're used to."

"You're fucking telling me," Lacey muttered undetected.

"It's a heavy subject, I mean good God Lace, did you pick this one to get back at me?"

"Maybe." Lacey teased.

He let it slide and stood, cueing that there conversation was coming to an end.

"Well you did good, and, well, I'm proud of you kid."

That was indeed something she hadn't heard since she was a bright-eyed intern back in high school, and something she hadn't heard from anyone but him.

Not even from her own father.

"Don't get mushy on me, Delicate-as-Glass," she snarked, enjoying the way he bristled from the use of her nickname from him.

"Easy," he warned, but he more important things to do than lecture his most wild employee on respect.

"Anyway, I think we can start adding one of those with your usual debauchings, and that should keep you in the clear.

It was just as she suspected, but she complained simply to put on a show and then let the matter rest. She'd have to work with Gold some more, which she had no problem with at all.

Though it would seem their attempt at a romantic relationship was going to need some time.

Sunday came around and Lacey hadn't seen nor heard hide or hair of him since their drink.

As Lacey walked the streets of Storybrooke, an attempt to get her thoughts in order, she but decided she'd visit him that night for more help on her "fluff" article, and maybe some feedback on her smutty one.

Bells rung cleanly through the air as church services let out and Lacey scrunched her nose. The religious zealots in Storybrooke were her biggest haters. It wasn't uncommon that she'd get some sort of email warning of the damnation of her soul or the obstruction of the town's youth.

Lacey laughed aloud as she thought of the latter, certain Storybrooke's youth found their first form of porn in a much more modern way – a fact she often wrote as reply in her emails on the subject.

"Glad to see you're in good spirits, Miss French."

Lacey's grin melted into an annoyed frown at the familiar, very unwelcomed voice.

"Son of a bitch," she muttered as her most vocal opposer approached: Mother Superior.

The head nun of Storybrooke's covenant had her finger in the grand pie that was Storybrooke and was quick to take down anything she could pinpoint as "sinful." Such measures included removing a majority of "inappropriate" books from the town's school libraries (the public one had been closed for years), mandating separate PE classes at said schools, and worse, writing a religious reminder about the wages sin in Storybrooke's Sunday paper—Lacey's fucking territory!

"Morning," Lacey greeted vilely, glancing over her shoulder. "And…goodbye." She began to walk away, but was halted by more of the pious nun's words.

"I was interested to see your choice of column's this week," she spoke. "Much more effective than the sinful trash you usually post."

Lacey swung around on her heal, letting out a fake gasp.

"And here I thought you hated my work," she gave the nun a plastic smile. "Good to hear you read my columns regularly."

Mother Superior bristled, already losing her battle with the spicy Lacey French.

"You—you obviously can stop your sinful ways if you give yourself the chance. You could really help people instead of leading them down the path of—"

"I do help people," Lacey hissed. "Sex, intimacy, closeness, all of those things are important to people, and they come to me for help because unlike you I'm not going to shame them."

The head nun went quiet and Lacey thought for a moment she'd won this fight and could go about her day in peace, but then a wicked grin spread over Mother Superior's face and Lacey knew her day was about to get much worse.

"People seek your insight because you're an easy slut who has whored herself out expertly."

She said it. The W-word Lacey hated with a passion. The word that was always aimed at her.

She tried to hide the impact it had on her. No one, not even a pillar of the fucking community, was going to get under her skin.

"At least people read my expert advice. From what I seen they shred your little letter of conviction up and donate it to the animal shelter for bedding."

Mother Superior's face turned green and her mouth opened again to comment when another familiar figure added their appeal.

"Mother Superior," Gold greeted darkly. "I do hope since you've found time to invade Miss French's business then you've found time to gather the rent for tomorrow."

The head nun's expression turned pale. Her mouth failed to work and Lacey found some secret pleasure in her downfall.

"O-of course, Mr. Gold," she finally replied, giving Lacey one last dirty look before she dashed away to the convent.

Lacey snorted, spinning around to face Gold.

"Thanks cutie pie, but I was handling myself just fine."

Gold shrugged. "I never miss a moment to remind that gnat of a woman of her place."

She chuckled at that, though the sting of the nun's words were still wearing off.

Gold noticed her shift in mood and searched for an out.

"I was…going to call you."

"But you didn't."

"Well neither did you."

"Ugh," Lacey groaned. "We wrote a column, not slept together, let's drop it."

Gold's face heated and he went quiet.

Lacey sighed, knowing she'd already made the situation between them more awkward than it already was.

"Look," she said, "I have a few fluff columns I need to go through. How about I come by your place later and you see what you can do."

Still flustered, Gold could only nod.

"Great," Lacey said. "I'll see you then."

Gold watched her leave, the clanking of her high heels matching the thumping of his heart.

So far there relationship was a sort of business casual agreement, but there was the "what if" factor floating cleanly over them.

His attraction for her was clear between them, but exactly how she felt was still unknown.

For all he knew she was simply using him, but at least it was for his mind and not for his heart.

He was becoming content with their relationship, but he was a lonely soul who would one day want more. What would happen when he tried to take that step? Would it be the end of them?

Unbeknownst to him, the same thought was on Lacey's mind.

No one had ever stood up for her like that before, and there was a certain tastefulness watching him snarl at that gnat of a nun.

She'd admit that Gold was attractive in his own way. Lean, a decent stature, nicely grayed out, and those eyes. Damn his eyes. The color of whiskey and just as addictive.

She found herself grinning like a freaking teenager as she thought of her unofficial business partner and her growing attraction for him.

It only occurred to her as she got halfway to her apartment that she had spoken to him completely in the open and felt absolutely no remorse or concern.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

"Okay, how about this one: Racy Lacey, I'm at my wits in with my new boyfriend—oh never mind, this one's smut-worthy too."

Gold scoffed. They'd been looking through emails for the past hour. They were almost though a whole bottle of wine, most of which was drunk by Lacey. Gold avoided the alcohol as much as possible less he embarrass himself.

Lacey seemed to be holding her own though, mostly. She was walking barefoot through his living room, pacing back and forth as she read emails off her phone.

It was a lovely site and very distracting.

"Your mind goes straight to the gutter, doesn't it?" Gold said, his stomach immediately twisting with anxiety.

It was the first time he'd attempted to joke with her and, judging by the snort that followed, she took it fairly well.

"Well, people write me for one thing," Lacey shrugged, falling back beside him on the couch. "So the gutter is a good place to go."

He chortled, grateful her sense of humor ran deep.

Lacey stared at him over the rim of her glass, curious.

"What about you?" she inquired. "Where does yours goes?"

Gold choked a bit on the sip of wine he'd taken. Not embarrassing himself was starting to go out the window, it would seem.

"S-somewhere more innocent than where yours is," he said, not meeting her eyes. "Shouldn't we get back to the column?"

Lacey crawled closer until she was mere inches from him. She crossed her legs, leaning one hand on her knee as she watched him grow increasingly nervous.

"Come on, converse with me,"

Gold resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Lacey French was guiltily tipsy in his living room, and getting increasingly bold at that.

"Miss French…"

"For Christ's sake it's Lacey," she slurred. "We're defiantly on a first-name basis, I mean come on."

Gold chuckled nervously. Where they really at that stage already?

"I suppose we are. Now the column…"

"Ugh," Lacey groaned, setting her glass on the floor beside the couch. "All work, no play. What's the matter, afraid you'll fall even more in love with me?"

Gold froze. Honestly, he could faint. Lacey was certainly having a field day with the knowledge of his affections from his drunken email earlier last week.

She wasn't mocking him, that much he could tell, but he did increasingly wonder the authenticity of her affections towards him, if there were any at all. She'd probably regret her words tomorrow, but he wouldn't remind her of them if didn't bring them up.

"It'd certainly be a challenge not to," he admitted.

Lacey's smile stretched further, her chest fluttering.

Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe Lacey simply wanted to explore this oddity she had developed with Gold. Either way, she was about to make a very drastic decision.

"Hey," she whispered, chuckling. "How about …"

Gold tilted his head, charmed at the rosiness on her cheeks. "Yes?"

She stared into those eyes, their color so tantalizing and bright.

"…kiss me."

Gold's smirk slowly disappeared, his chest seizing.

"I…I beg your pardon?"

"K-I-S-S," Lacey repeated with a smack of her lips. "me."

Gold could only stared at the scarlet-faced goddess in front of him, the color of her face making the blue of her eyes stand out all the more.

He did want to kiss her—Gods knows he did—but was this the right time?

Lacey seemed to think so as she leaned forward, expecting his lips. In retaliation, he leaned back, trying to put as much distance between them as possible.

Lacey caught on quickly, pausing when she saw the uncertainty on Gold's face.

"Yikes, sorry," she muttered. "You're not going to catch anything, damn."

Gold was taken aback by the sudden malice in her tone and, he saw, the flicker of shame in her icy blues.

"What? Lacey what are you talking about?"

Lacey stared glassily at her bare feet, shrugging nonchalantly.

"You said 'who knows what I have' during our fight, remember?"

With flaming discomfort, he recalled exactly what she was talking about.

It had been a flare up, a way to push her out as he recovered from his embarrassment, to keep her at arms-length, he previously convinced himself.

The reason was pointless. He'd insulted Lacey, humiliated her really.

It didn't take a vivid imagination to know that her early conversation with Mother Superior was only a sample what she went through daily. And he'd was no different than the fools in town who jumped to conclusions about virtue.

Her head was still bent, one of her fingers circling a patch of leather on the couch. Gold felt sick that he had made her feel any level of guilt when she shouldn't at all.

"Lacey," he said quietly. "I am so sorry. I was foolish. I didn't mean what I said. I shouldn't have said it."

Lacey shrugged, uncrossing her legs and made her way to the window.

"It doesn't matter." She replied, the phrase her constant companion whenever she was compared to someone with such loose morals.

Lacey was as sex positive as they came and encouraged many of her readers to be comfortable and experimental with their sexuality, but her own experience came from a vivid imagination. Her own standards were extremely high, and her partners very few.

Of course, that didn't stop the many she turned down from spreading callous rumors about her when she refused their beds, and of course being a sex columnist didn't lend an the most positive opinion.

She'd learned to deal with the snarls and the crude comments whispered behind her back. She'd eye her opposers down just as damningly as they did her and came out triumph.

Still, the isolation didn't stop the wave of loneliness that hit her from time to time.

"It does too matter," Gold fought. "You don't deserve what I said to you Lacey, what anyone says to you at that!"

"I'm used to it—"

"You shouldn't be," Gold cut her off. "You are a beautiful, intelligent person Lacey. And you do something every day that not many people have the ability to."

Lacey snorted but smiled none the less.

"You're so brave to do it," Gold said, his eyes lowering. "Braver than I am."

Lacey eyed him, cocking her head mischievously.

"I think you're pretty brave," she said. "Not too many people have the gall to have Racy Lacey in their house, especially with such nosy neighbors."

"Damn the neighbors," he said.

She scooted closer, her breath warm and acidic on his lips.

"I think you're pretty handsome too," she smirked.

Gold scoffed. His looks were the last thing he'd credit himself over.

"I'm serious," Lacey said, her painted nails trailing up his neck. "Especially your hair…"

Gold accepted her touch with earnest, his predatory eyes fluttering shut as he pressed into her hand.

She watched him, a man starved for human affection. Just like her.

She carefully leaned forward, letting her lips brush against his, testing his consent. When he didn't pull away, she strengthened the kiss, pressing her lip solidly into his as her hands tangled in his locks.

Gold returned it, lost in her taste and desperate for her touch.

They separated for air, Lacey's hand have gripped the collar of his shirt.

"Hey," she husked. "What if we…"

He was no fool to not know what she wanted.

He had wanted to protect, but found out she didn't need protection, not from the town at least.

His own heart was damaged, and Lacey had begun to fix the chips and dents.

He was still hesitant, still ashamed by his behavior toward her earlier, but Lacey was pawing at his shirt and he could think of nothing else but her.

He kissed her again, his hand feeling down her hip.

Lacey was quite receptive. She uncrossed her legs and crawled into his lap, pushing him against the arm of the couch.

He captured her face with one hand while he explored her body with the other. His hands came up to her top, stopping for her permission. Her hands met his and she all but ripped off her shirt, her nipple standing at full attention through her silk bra.

Gold's hands ran up her back, grazing her breasts and gliding over her stomach, her side, down her thigh and under the fabric of her jeans.

She clung to his shoulders as she let her tongue dance with his. Wetness was already pooling between her legs. This was escalating quickly and yet she had no intention of holding back.

He swallowed when his erection pressed against her thigh. She desired him and she needed him. Now.

With more skill than he could have imagined she managed to get her jeans off in a messy tangle, laughing as he helped her.

His fingers graced against the fabric of her panties, applying just the right kind of pressure to her clit.

"Gold," she keened, attacking his belt and leaning off of him just enough to help pull his boxers down.

She felt his hard erection twitch, pressing against her flesh, his warmth radiating.

She kissed him again. He groaned and bucked his hips against her. She moved her hands between their bodies to free his throbbing erection from his pants. He groaned when she wrapped her hands around his cock. She wanted to taste him. She wanted him to fuck her. She wanted to bring him pleasure and see it written all over his face.

He trembled a little, grateful she had no qualms with being in charge.

"You are so sexy," he groaned as she grabbed his cock with one hand and fighting between moving her panties aside and steadying herself with the other. Feeling how good he felt when he finally slipped inside her made all annoyance she felt slip away.

They both sighed and she captured both his hands, pulling them up and behind his head. She entwined her fingers with his and pressed his hands against the couch as she bend forward to kiss him.

She rode him hard, licking, nibbling, sucking at this mouth while she did so. He was hers and she wouldn't allow him to run off again. He came before she could reach her climax, but feeling his hot seed spilling inside of her brought her over the edge again.

She collapsed on top of him, releasing his hands to play with his hair. And they just breathed together.

Then she started laughing, a throaty ring that made his heart pound.

"Well, Goldie Locks," murmured as she played with his curls. "I think I have my inspiration for my next column."

He chuckled and held her ease down so that she was lying on top of him.

"Such a shame you still have to write the tame one, you're deadline is tomorrow morning, yes?"

Lacey groaned and buried her head in his chest. He kissed her curls in reply.

He was indeed going to enjoy this new relationship with Lacey French.

I've been trying to get these two to bang for over a month now, so boom, they banged. I can't write a smut scene to save my life.