It was all still too surreal, for Belle to believe that she was actually staying at Mr Gold's cabin. She wasn't lying, when she had told him, she had pictured something a lot smaller, more intimate, than his… rather large cabin. After the brief tour, which mostly consisted of being shown to her room upstairs, Belle had stood in the middle of her given room, staring out the window onto the small balcony attached to her room and the lake beyond it. Everything left her speechless. The cabin was beautiful, inside and out.

Belle wedged her bookmark between the pages and closed her book, while her gaze rose to the blue sky above, where lazy clouds were passing by overhead. It was so quiet and peaceful at the cabin. It was easy to forget about their lives, about the world, beyond the solid wall of trees. At home, Belle would never get time to kick back, like she had been doing, on the large three-seater sofa of the decking furniture, almost being swallowed whole by its big plump cushions, while she read a book and enjoyed the warm sunshine on the decking area.

It had to be a dream. It was too good to be true. Yet, no matter how many times she pinched herself, the reality of the situation wouldn't sink in.

Life had never been so good.

The large open plan enticed her to run around like a child, arms spread out wide, enjoying the irresistible freedom it offered. The natural warmth of the oak and the embracing softness of her bed, lured her to intomb herself in her room. Snoozing well past the time she usually woke up in the morning. Forced to surface from her room, when the persistent grumble of her stomach was something, she could no longer ignore. Everything was an indulgence - including the incredible meals Mr Gold had been preparing for them.

Except, there was one pleasure she wanted, but he had made it quite clear, he didn't.

Placing her book on the seat beside her, with a blink of her eyes, Belle's gaze went to the small wooden building in the distance, barely peeking out from behind its cover of bushes and trees, and the large barn, set further back from the other building. From time to time, she had seen Mr Gold meandering around outside the smaller building and had noticed him, a couple of times, through the open doors of the barn, busily working on something with his back to the doorway.

It didn't feel like he was avoiding her, but something had definitely shifted between them. The ease she had felt with him, when they had been in his car, discussing his invitation and her need for a boyfriend, was gone. The acceptance they'd shared during their encounters at the Club, seemed a sham. Whatever Mr Gold's reason for his kind invitation - because there was no other explanation for his invitation, as the place was dust free and immaculate – had been forgotten. The man, who had shown genuine concern for her, when she had been overcome by reminiscing about her mother, had abandoned her on the doorstep of the cabin. Leaving her to spend the week, alone, with his doppelganger, who struggled to tolerate her.

Her sly attempts at encouraging information from him were being obstructed. Simple inquiries were combated with decisive swipes of his sharp tongue. 'Once a waitress, always a waitress, I suppose.', was his reply to 'Would you like a drink?', when she had been making herself a tea. Showing an interest in the piano and the instruments that hung on the nearby wall, had been met with, 'Accolades to my abundance of willpower… Unlike some.'. And when she had been admiring the wall filled with photographs of Mr Gold and Neal, she had been told, 'Your nose belongs on your face, Miss French.'.

Some of his comments circled around her dropping out of college. Rubbing the fact further into her face. 'You might've read those books at college…', 'If you had finished college, you could've afforded something like this.', 'Unlike your father, who needed you to quit college, I'm quite capable of looking after myself.', 'I can see why your father persuaded you to come home from college. That meal was excellent!', he had said about the dinner he'd allowed her to make the night before.

The comments shouldn't have meant anything to her. Belle had made her choice, years ago. What was done, was done. She couldn't go back and change it. The opportunity had been wasted. There weren't any enchanted hats, or magic beans, or fairy godmother's, waving their wands around, or even an imp, offering to make a deal for her first-born child.

This was her life. There was no going back. Belle was a college dropout. A waitress with no prospects.

Her only purpose was to work as many hours as she could, clawing in as much money as she could earn and smile for a gracious fat tip. Money, which got ripped from her hands before she even had the chance to count it. Paying half the rent, the food, the utilities. Helping to keep the shop, her mother had loved so much, a float. Enduring the verbal garbage her father spouted. Brushing each comment off her shoulder as she fought for a moment to herself and her precious evenings out. Her life, which she fantasies escaping from, but wasn't brave enough to execute. The whirlwind of thoughts bombarding her, forced her to bow her head forward as she blew out a heavy breath.

These comments should've meant nothing. She had accepted what had happened a long time ago. Recognised, she was a failure. Knew, life wasn't going to get any better. Expected to spend the rest of her life, paying for her mistakes. So, his comments meant nothing. They were accurate observations of her life. Nothing, she didn't already know. Nonetheless, his truthful comments hurt and they were clinging to her, making her think of things that could've been. That should've been. That would've been, if she'd been brave enough to tell her father, 'No'.

She lifted her head with her eyes closed, willing her pesky thoughts to leave her alone, and opened them to see Mr Gold, stood in front of the barn, with a hand on the hip of his jeans as he held something up to his ear. His gaze was fixed on something across the lake.

Belle would've given anything for him to look at her. To acknowledge her with a nod of his head, or a wave of his hand, or even a smile. Like the one he had given her, when they'd said goodnight to one another and she'd exited his car, full of nerves and excitement. Or maybe, just one of his little sly ones… The one that reveals the hidden dimple in his left cheek.

"This isn't helping." Belle told herself as she grabbed her book and her empty glass, from the rectangle coffee table, and got up to go back into the cabin.

Waltzing through the vast opening, made by opening the bifolding doors, she faintly shook her head at herself, from side to side, as she reminded herself how much of an ass, he was being to her. She'd never considered it before, but his attitude was probably why his ex-wife had left him. The last two days were beginning to grate on Belle, which in itself surprised her, since she had been putting up with her father being a jerk much longer. She knew he could be mean and harsh at times. Heard it daily from everyone in Storybrooke. Foolishly, she'd never thought, he'd be like that with her. He'd always been a gentleman with her.

On her way to the kitchen sink, Belle deposited her book onto the kitchen island and set about rinsing the dishes from breakfast to stack into the dishwasher. It wasn't really worth doing, but anything that could distract her from him was worth it. So, as she rinsed off a plate and bent to put it into the bottom shelf of the dishwasher, she wasn't thinking about being laid across his knee and the spanks he had given her. She bit her lower lip as the memory progressed to being bent over the arm of the two-seater sofa at his house. Her arms, her legs, her backside – her whole body - had pleasantly ached the day after. It had been hard to keep a straight face during her shift at Granny's. '…Serving all those unsuspecting people…Never knowing, sweet Belle French wanted the town's baddy to fuck her.'. Slowly the same grin crept onto her face as she put her used glass into the top shelf of the dishwasher.

It had felt different at his house. Mr Gold had been different. Whatever it was, Belle hadn't and wasn't going to complain about it. She'd never been fucked so thoroughly in her life, and she couldn't wait for more, which was why the current situation frustrated her. He didn't want to be anywhere near her. If there was even a chance of close proximity, he'd move away. Subtly moving further away on the sofa, taking his breakfast to eat outside, finding any plausible excuse to put distance between them.

Belle rested her hands on the edge of the sink and breathed. Having the opportunity to be so close to him, closer than she could've ever imagined, was becoming a torment. Her keenness to know him, to learn more about him, was dying with every cold and indifferent remark he made to her. And as much as her annoyance grew with each one, the more she wanted to go home.

"Henry," His distant voice stressed and then grew closer as he talked. "If you're sure, you can keep her on a leash, then I'll email the Mayor right now, and invite him and the council to tour the warehouses next week."

Briefly closing her eyes, Belle pushed her thoughts away, while his footsteps started across the decking outside. "But don't think, for one second, that I won't hesitate to break this deal with you, if you can't hold up your end of the bargain."

She turned her head towards the sound of him, hearing the change, as he crossed the threshold into the cabin. "I don't lose anything, if this deal goes south."

Mr Gold appeared from behind the wall and, without looking at her, marched across the back of the cabin to the other side of the room. Her eyes followed him until the stone fireplace blocked her view. The disappointment she felt was heavy as she turned back to the sink. Being invisible was sometimes part of her job as a waitress. Blending into the background, while customers ate and chatted. Her shoulders slumped a little as she realised, even her father didn't ignore her, like Mr Gold was doing.

"Fine." Mr Gold declared. "I'm doing it now." There was a soft thud of something being put down onto a surface and the distinct squeak of his swivel chair, which sat behind his desk, before he muttered to himself. "Pompous ass."

Belle couldn't help the quick glance over her left shoulder, daring a peek to catch his eye, but he was already hunched over his laptop, tapping and clicking keys.

Childishly, she wanted to throw something at him. Slam the lid of his laptop down on his fingers. Demand a reason for his recent behaviour. Yet, despite wanting to do these things, Belle resigned herself to preparing lunch, another poor attempt to distract her from her thoughts, and swivelled round to pad along the kitchen counter, and opened the large fridge at the end of it.

With some ingredients tucked into the crook of her left arm, she grabbed the jar of mayonnaise from its shelf on the inside of the large door and used her hip to knock the door shut. Her eyes flicked to where Mr Gold was sitting, now wearing his reading glasses, with his left elbow perched on the table, supporting his chin in the palm of his hand. It wasn't erotic. There was no suggestive wink, or a cheeky smile, or a hint of playfulness about him. He was zoned in on the screen of his laptop, doing whatever it was he had promised to do. There was nothing sexual - But all Belle could think about, as her thighs and inner muscles clenched together, was how sexy he looked in his reading glasses and in full 'business' mode.

Delivering the items to the kitchen island, her eyes flitted to Mr Gold, while she reached under the counter and retrieved the wooden chopping board, from its hidden nook. Belle was sure, he wouldn't care if she packed her bag and left. Probably wouldn't even notice until she was long gone. But then, why should he care? This wasn't a relationship. Yet, no matter how many times she tried to convince herself of that, it still stung. To have him so close… And not be his.

After placing the board on the counter, pushing some of her ingredients aside, Belle decided she needed to change things up. Taking her phone out from the rear pocket of her denim shorts, she quickly unlocked it, navigated to her favourite dance playlist and set it off playing before she laid her phone on the counter. Before she had even turned to the sink, taking the lettuce to wash it, Belle was swaying her hips in time with the beat. It was the playlist she played at the end of a shift, keeping herself energised, while she cleaned and swept Granny's. Bobbing in time to the music, she turned on the faucet and began to thoroughly wash the lettuce.

Oblivious to anything else, apart from the beat of the song.

It felt like forever since she had been out with Ruby. Just the two of them. Tearing up the dance floor in the Underworld, surrounded by men, dying to get their attention. For years, Belle had coveted her Saturday nights with Ruby. Never let anything stand in the way of the one night, where she could let her hair down and throw caution to the wind, and do whatever the hell she wanted for those few hours, until the stroke of midnight. Which made her feel guilty. Since this 'arrangement' had started with Mr Gold, Belle hadn't really spent much time with Ruby. If she was honest with herself, she hadn't really been a good friend to her of late. Belle missed their nights out.

"Miss French," His cool voice made her physically jolt before she twisted to see him. "Could you turn that…" Mr Gold's lips pressed together, then said. "Music… Down?"

"Err… Yeah, sure. Sorry." Belle quickly knocked off the faucet before bringing the dripping lettuce to the chopping board, so she could click the button on the side of her phone and lower the volume.

Mr Gold remained with his gaze on his laptop as his fingers tapped away at the keys, as he told her. "Some of us, Miss French, don't have the luxury of taking time out for a vacation. We work every hour of every day."

"I'm sorry, I disturbed you." She said carefully, fearing his sharp tongue.

There was a firm tap of a key before he finally looked up, peeking over the rims of his reading glasses at her. "You needn't be sorry. Just don't do it again."

"Okay…" Belle's brows pushed together, forming a small crease between them. "Is it okay if I continue listening to it, while I'm making lunch? Or would you rather, I turn it off?"

"I'd prefer you not to distract me with your… Music and your…" His left hand lifted into view, with his fingers dancing in the air. "Dancing. Apart from that, I don't care what you do."

Sarcastically, she bit at him. "Would it be easier, if I just left?"

His deep brown eyes snapped up to fix her into place. "Yes."

Swallowing hard, his answer took her by surprise. Mr Gold had invited her there, but evidently, he didn't want her there. The line between her brows became deeper as her confusion and anger grew. Why invite her, if he didn't want her there? Why go to all this trouble, for her, to then treat her like this? None of it made sense. Why pretend to be nice to her, all of these years, to then reveal his distaste for her? And also, why suggest to 'enlighten her', if he couldn't stand to be around her?

It just didn't make any sense to her. Everything he had ever said to her was being disputed by this new change in him.

"I'll just…" Belle mumbled as she reached for her phone on the counter.

"Go, yes, that would be good." He muttered, stroking his left forefinger across his upper lip, scowling at something on the screen of his laptop.

Disbelieving her ears, she grabbed for the edge of the counter, needing the support as Mr Gold ripped the world out from underneath her. His indifference stung, but his dismissal was heart wrenching. He started typing again, clicking and clacking at the plastic keys of his laptop, oblivious to the turmoil he'd given her.

Her gaze slowly lowered to her phone, gleefully playing another upbeat song from her playlist. Could something so small really be the tipping point? Playing music, whilst she cooked? She'd done the same thing the night before, while she had been cooking and he hadn't complained. Although, he had gone outside and sat on the end of the decking, dipping his feet into the cool water of the lake. If Mr Gold hadn't liked her music, he could've said. He could've asked her to play something else. But instead, he'd rather be rude to her.

With one swift movement of her right hand, Belle swiped her phone up from the counter, lifted her eyes to glare at Mr Gold, and dashed out of the kitchen. Her curls bounced in front of her face and around her shoulders as she pressed her lips into a firm line. In that moment, for the first time ever, she hated Mr Gold. Hate was not something she was accustomed to, but she most definitely hated him. Hated every fibre of his being. Hated how he made her feel, how his smile caused her toes to curl, or how he had become a permanent resident inside of her head. There was nothing she wanted to like about him anymore, yet… Belle loved everything about him – his sarky comments, his devilish smile, the feel of his hands on her skin, the dark warm depths of his eyes, the softness of his short grey hair, and how the mere thought of him could brighten her day… Till now.

The force of her steps echoed underneath the decking as she stomped across the large wooden platform, while hastily killing the music from her phone and shoved the innocent device into the back pocket of her denim shorts. It would've been so easy to throw it. Her temper had removed all of her inhibitions. Seeing the defenceless device be cast out over the lake, and to see it plop through the calm surface and down into the depths would've been satisfying. Or to throw it at him, hitting him squarely in the face with it, she thought with an evil grin.

'What the hell have I done wrong?' Belle demanded the answer as she jogged down the steps of the decking and set off to follow the edge of the lake. 'Shouldn't I have accepted his invite? Was this some kind of test? Or was he just tired of her?'.

The answers to these questions didn't matter, because they all led her to the same conclusion – their arrangement wasn't worth it anymore.

When Mr Gold had blown up about her 'boyfriend' story to Ruby, Belle should've ended things then, told him to get out of the house and leave her alone. Demanded he go fuck himself and slammed the door in his face. That's what she should've done, when he had knocked on her front door. Allowing him inside, listening to his slithery words and giving into her insatiable need for him to fuck her, had been the second biggest mistake of her life.

Belle kicked out at the grass, doing nothing more than causing herself to misstep and stumble a step or two towards the water. Her eyes rolled at herself as she moved away from the edge. That was all she needed, to fall in and be ridiculed by Mr Gold, when she returned to the cabin soaked through. 'Normally, one removes their clothes before swimming, Miss French'. Her right hand flew up to give her imaginary Mr Gold the middle finger. In return, he gave her a sly smile, pushing back his left cheek, revealing a slight dimple. Even her imaginary Mr Gold caught her eye, made her breath catch in her chest, and veered her steps towards him, drawn to him. However, Belle swerved herself away from him, scolded herself, and returned herself to the path she had set herself, while imaginary Mr Gold watched her with an impish smile on his face.

Combing some of her curls behind her right ear, she firmly shook her head, reaffirming her earlier decision that this wasn't worth it anymore. The confusion, the frustration, the heartbreak to come – It wasn't worth it. Mr Gold used people. Belle knew this, but she had still let herself get in this position. No doubt, he had been using her the whole time. Getting a kick, out of breaking in the novice. Taking his pleasure, while unknowingly cutting deep into her heart.

There was no denying that when Belle was with him, she felt like she could do anything and everything was permitted. He had never made her feel embarrassed. If anything, Mr Gold had empowered her. Made her feel she could have what she wanted and he would give it to her. Being with him, those few evenings, made her want to stand up tall. Be strong. Be the woman, she had been at college, who didn't say no to anything, who did what or who she wanted, who didn't care what anyone thought. That she could be free. Only, it was all a lie, a fantasy, he had conjured up. Focusing her attention on one hand, while the other hand took what he wanted from her, unknowingly taking her heart at the same time.

Slowing her pace, Belle turned her head and looked over the still water at his cabin, standing on the other side of the lake. The view was idyllic. She could see herself spending the weekends there. Cosying up on the sofa on the decking, with a blanket over her legs in the autumn, with a book in between her hands, while Mr Gold sat beside her, or at the other end of the sofa, rubbing her feet, laxly drawing patterns with his fingers. She could see them in the winter, in front of the roaring fire, watching the snowflakes put on a performance as they danced through the air. Lazy mornings spent in his bed, the doors open onto the decking, the birds and insects chirping in chorus, while they laid together, talking nonsense.

As she turned her gaze away, the word nonsense got stuck in her head, because that's all it was. Nonsense. The little dreams and fantasies she'd had growing up, and of late, were all nonsense. It wasn't reality. Mr Gold being an asshole was reality. Not the sweet man, who took pity on her and offered her a week away for free. Nor the kind man, who offered her a small amount of comfort on the cabin's door.

No. All there was, was Mr Gold the asshole, the bastard, who didn't care about anyone, or anything, apart from what belonged to him and getting his money every month. No matter what the excuse.

Hanging her head, causing some of her hair to fall forward, and stuffing as much as her fingers as she could into the small pockets of her shorts, Belle forced herself not to think of him. She emptied her mind of thoughts. Picturing only darkness in her head. She pushed every single thought away, as she had done, when it had become too much after her mother's death. Some days, it was the only way she could cope. Losing herself in a book hadn't helped. Throwing herself into working at her dad's shop hadn't worked. The thing that had helped her cope was to expel everything. The good thoughts, the bad ones, the sad ones. Letting everything go, so she could just be still for a moment before everything rushed back at her. It was why her Saturday evenings meant so much. While everyone danced and the beat bounced around the room, Belle could lose herself, dispelling all of her thoughts and worries, and be her in those precious few minutes.

The more though, she pictured the darkness, thinking of nothing, the more she saw him. Saw the outline of his face in the darkness. Haunting and comforting her at the same time. Confusing and frustrating her. With a loud cry of annoyance, Belle gave up. Her pace increased, bringing her closer to the large barn and small cabin she had seen from the decking of his cabin.

Approaching the side of the large barn, Belle gaze rose to the apex of the roof, then followed the angle of the roof until her eyes got to the end of it, causing her gaze to fall back down. There wasn't anything special about it, as she swept her eyes back along the side of the barn, taking in the stained red boards. A very traditional looking barn. Like any other barn she had seen. Absentminded, or nosily, her feet took her around the corner of the barn and to where the large barn doors stood open. She dared a quick peek inside, wary of bumping into Mr Gold. The barn looked empty, or rather, Mr Gold wasn't there, because the barn was far from empty.

She was stepping across the threshold as her mouth formed an 'O' shape, staggered by what she found inside. On the right, as you entered, tucked back into the corner, was a spinning wheel, half covered with a blanket. Along the wall from that, was shelving that stretched to the back of the barn, stacked high with different items, boxes, trunks and on the top shelf, was frames for old wooden chairs. There was a large wooden cabinet at the back of the room, which spanned half of the back wall, and had two rows of slits in it, all of which looked occupied with something. Following the room round, the other side of the barn was more of a workshop, with various cutting and drilling machines, and a wall of various tools. In the centre of the room, was a very large workbench, bridging the two sides of the rooms. The room was very tidy, much like the cabin. Not a speck of dust, anywhere.

Aimlessly, Belle walked around the barn, following the path her eyes had taken. Her fingers touched the blanket covering the spinning, barely lifting it to peek underneath. Bouncing her gaze from the top shelf to the bottom, as she walked along the long shelving unit, Belle couldn't get over how many things were on the shelving. Antique clocks, silver wear, ornaments, display boxes of jewellery, ships in bottles, mirrors, old radios, lamps – and countless other items, which she had and had not seen before. A treasure trove to make the little mermaid jealous.

The cabinet with the slits, at the back of the room, stored several pieces of artwork. Belle tried to pull out the first one she came to, but it was too heavy. Moving three slots on from it, she pulled out a much smaller painting, then slid it back. Randomly choosing again, she pulled out another and was about to push it back, when something about the painting caught her eye. It wasn't anything special. A gloomy, dark painting of a castle, except what drew her eye was the one lit window of the tower with a speck of darkness to it. As though, there was someone standing in the window, watching, possibly waiting, for someone to come home. A lost love, perhaps…

"Don't go there, Belle." She told herself as she put the painting back and moved away.

Touring around the rest of the barn, inspecting the various machines and tools hanging on the wall, Belle found it hard to believe Mr Gold did anything manual with his hands. They never struck her as being rough, or felt calluses on them. Firm and strong, but never rough. It was more likely he had his own private workshop and had Trev, Trevor Dove, work there. Mr Gold had him doing everything else for him. Plus, getting dirty didn't seem to be Mr Gold's thing. Not with his pristine, expensive three-piece suits.

She chuckled a little as she left the barn, picturing Mr Gold in one of his three-piece suits, working away, hammering and sawing, while somehow remaining immaculate in appearance. It would be a perfect example of a juxtapose.

Her thoughts sobered and her pace slowed, coming face to face with the smaller cabin. It was older than other cabins. The wood was much darker and the roof was covered in big patches of green moss. Grass was spouting out of gutters. It hadn't been getting as much attention as the bigger cabin, or even the barn. Though, the porch showed signs of being recently renovated with bright new boards, contrasting with the older duller boards of the porch.

Stepping onto the porch, the boards squeaked under her step, whilst Belle looked through the window, old furniture and boxes stacked up inside of the cabin. Roaming her gaze around the interior, she carried on along the porch, angling her head to get a better view until she came to the open doorway. Able to see the room in its entirety, she could tell the furniture had been moved from one side of the room to the other, making room for the brand-new floorboards, which had been laid. Belle stepped inside with the boards softly creaking beneath her. This was more like the cabin she had imagined. The large stone fireplace, the wooden furniture, the aged rug in front of the fire, the two of them laid naked in front of it. A more intimate setting for a getaway.

Stood just inside the doorway, Belle briefly looked around the room and began to turn to leave, when the gleam of a picture frame, poking out the top of a box, caught her eye. Angling herself towards it, in bold black print was the headline, 'Adam Gold does it again! Miners win 2.5 billion!'. Her brows pressed down over eyes as carefully picked up the picture frame, and took a closer look at the article. 'A very complex case, but Adam Gold came out of the courtroom triumphant. Hundreds of coal miner's families will sleep easier now, knowing their futures are secure, even after the devastating illnesses they have suffered, loss of earnings and livelihoods'.

"You're a lawyer?" She asked out loud, surprised.

Belle's eyes bulged as she read it. 'The township of Doll, in the Highland, southwest of Brora, had a thriving mine for over fifty years until the new owners, Dougal and Thrupp, took over the mine in February 1991. First, there were layoffs, meaning the remaining miners had to work overtime. Overtired and overworked, the miners had to also endure cutbacks to their safety equipment. Cheap, knock off breathing equipment. Inadequate tools and machinery. A set up for disaster.'

In the centre of the newspaper, was a black and white photo of a younger Mr Gold, shaking one of the hands that was being offered to him, from the crowd of men huddled around him. He would've been swallowed into the crowd, if he hadn't been wearing his three-piece suit. In the picture, Mr Gold couldn't have been much older than her at the time. Even in the picture, she could see there were hardly any lines of age on his face. Looking just as handsome as he did now. Yet, as she studied the side profile of him, she had to ask herself, if he would've been the same then. Would he have been rude and obnoxious in his younger days? Did something happen to him to make him the way he was today?

She picked out another picture from the same box, as she returned the other picture frame, and squinted her gaze at the old coloured photo of a woman. Around the edges of the picture, the colour had bled out, showing it had been damaged by water at some point, but the woman was perfectly preserved. Her clothes looked late sixties, early seventies. The dark-haired woman stood in front of a full-length mirror, a hand proudly resting on her enormous baby bump. Belle could only presume it was Mr Gold's mother, or an older relative, as the picture was too old to be Neal's mother. It wasn't easy to see, but… The woman's eyes looked very much like Mr Gold's, sharing the same dark depths.

Flicking forward the previous picture frame, Belle put the woman's photo back before she went through the other frames in the box – Mr Gold's law diploma, a landscape picture of a castle looking building, a crayon drawn picture of… A dog, or a cat… Or even a horse, signed Neal in the bottom corner. Belle raised a hand to her mouth as she scoffed at the picture.

With a sidestep, she moved to the next box on top of a stack and read 'Divorce Papers' scribbled across the spine of a thick ring binder folder. Intrigue, Belle used both her hands to grab the folder and struggled to lift the heavy binder out of the packed cardboard box. As she placed it on top of the box, she had taken it from, the weight of it nearly tipped the box forward, off of the stack and onto her feet. Quickly nudging the box with her hip, she slammed her hands down on top of the folder, pinning the folder and stack of boxes in place.

After a couple of seconds, she cautiously lifted her hands off the stack and waited to see if it still wanted to fall. Sure, it was steady, Belle carefully opened the folder out, to be met with a bold title page, 'Gold vs Gold'. Turning the crisp page, the next page was titled, 'Petition for Divorce'. The name of the petitioner staggered her, as she was more than sure, it would've been Mr Gold's ex-wife, who would've been the one to file for divorce. But Belle was further taken aback, when she read at the bottom of the page, 'Details to support application: adultery and child neglect'.

"Oh, Neal…" She whispered under her breath, while she turned the page in the folder to see a private investigator's report.

'Mrs Gold would sneak down to the mail room at her place of employment, and would perform sexual acts with another employee, Killian Jones. Also, during her working day, there have been times booked out for Mrs Gold to be in court, or at lunch, and she has been to Mr Jones apartment. Or evenings, where Mrs Gold had stated to Mr Gold, she would be working late, she was either at her place of employment, a hotel or Mr Jones apartment, having intercourse with Mr Jones. (See supplied photographs and video evidence).

In regards to child neglect, there have been several times, when Mr Gold was away on business and Mrs Gold would invite Mr Jones to their penthouse suite, where the two would have repeated sexual intercourse, while Neal Gold, young child of Mr and Mrs Gold, was in another room, being unsupervised. (Evidence provided from the penthouse's security camera footage).

Signed J. Dodgson'

Whilst Belle had read the report, her hand had crept up to cover her mouth and muffled her words as she said, "Poor… Neal…"

The page turned easily, but was followed by a blown-up picture of two people having intercourse, in what looked like an office. Each page, after that picture, was another picture of the couple, in a different position, a different location, at different times of day. There were hundreds of them. Was this the reason Mr Gold being so heartless at times? Because his ex-wife ripped his heart out? Was he lashing out at everyone, because he was in so much pain? Was his ex the reason he got into kinky sex?

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Mr Gold's voice boomed around the small cabin, bouncing off each wall, revibrating back and forth, around her. The heavy folder somehow got knocked off the stack of boxes and fell onto the floor, with several pages ripping themselves free from the binders and spilling across the floor. Images of Mr Gold's ex-wife and her lover decorated the floor. Belle jumped back a step, narrowly missing the stack of boxes, which also fell, throwing out the contents of the top box to join the pictures across the floor.

Suddenly, Belle was yanked by her arm and slammed into the open door of the cabin, dazing her, while Mr Gold yelled at her. "What gives you the right to go pry through my things!"

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…" She tried to tell him, but he slammed the palm of his hand onto the door, scaring her into silence as he crowded her, spitting into her face. "Didn't mean to? Didn't mean to wander into places you're not welcome? Where you're not meant to be? Or, you didn't mean to be caught, going through my things!"

She unwisely motioned to the open doorway. "I didn't see any harm, as the door had been left open."

"Really?" He jumped back from her, wildly waving his arms. "Well, of course! The door was open, meaning you could make yourself at home!"

"That's not what I meant!" Belle declared.

Mr Gold bent down and snatched up one of the boxes that had fallen, and tipped the contents out at her, breaking a 'Number One Dad' mug and littering the floor with odd pieces of Lego, and various children's toys. "Here! Let me help you rummage through my things!"

"There's no need to be like this!" She pleaded, watching as he grabbed another box and emptied its contents at her feet.

"There's no need?" He clambered over the boxes between them, almost stumbling forward into her, but managed to catch himself on the door, and leant into her, proclaiming. "There's no need for you to go through my things, either!"

"You wouldn't understand." She turned away from him and went to leave.

Catching by her elbow, Mr Gold pulled her back, bumping her shoulder into his chest. "Understand what?"

Meeting his gaze, Belle didn't shy away from him. Instead, something snapped inside of her. She was tired. Tired of the games. Tired of the lies. Tired of hiding. Tired of pretending. And most of all, tired of everyone pushing her around.

Belle snatched her arm out of his hold and gave him both barrels. "I have known you, nearly all of my life, yet I know next to nothing about you! I have done things with you that I've never done with another man, but I don't even know how you like your coffee! Or how you prefer your eggs! Or where you grew up! Or even, what grades did you get at school!"

"Miss French, I've told you, don't…" Her hand snapped up, motioning to him to stop, as she finished his sentence. "Get confused about our arrangement? Believe me! I remind myself, every minute of every hour, of every day, that we're not in a fucking relationship!"

He baulked at her bluntness, but Belle continued. "But that doesn't seem to stop me from wanting to get to know you!"

Her hands became more animated, the more she talked and spilled the truth to him. "I can't help it! I've always wanted to know the real you!" Her left arm waved forcefully towards town. "Not the bastard, who terrorises the town! Or the one, who made my stay here miserable, for the past three days!"

Belle pointed at him. "I wanted to know the real you! But!" Throwing her hands up, she exclaimed. "I was stupid. Stupid to think a man like you, would ever be interested in a woman like me!"

Confusion was written in deep lines across Mr Gold's forehead, while Belle flung her left hand randomly and went to leave again. "This was all just a dreadful mistake! All of it!"

"Miss French…" He mumbled behind her.

"Don't!" In a whirl of long brown curls, Belle turned on him. "Don't you fucking dare say anything to me! I get that I'm beneath you! That I'm stupid, because I didn't finish college, and because I'm working a dead-end job at Granny's! And because I try to keep a roof over my father's head, and food on the table, and the debt collectors from knocking down our door! I get it!" Her right forefinger accused him. "You don't think I'm good enough for you!"

"Miss French, I-" Whatever he was going to say, stopped on the tip of his tongue when Belle held her hand up to him.

Leaning forward, towards him, she sneered at him. "Sex is sex, Mr Gold, but it wouldn't have hurt for you to let me in, to let me get to know you better. But instead," Her eyes dipped, taking in his dishevelled appearance. "You just showed me how much of an asshole you really are."

They stared at one another. Their breath mingled and washed over each other's faces. Belle could feel her whole body shaking, humming from the intensity of her anger. She wanted to slap him, to hit his chest, to kiss him until he apologised and begged for her forgiveness. To rip open his white cotton shirt and lick a hot trail down to the waistband of his jeans. A million things that she wanted to do him, flashed through her mind, but none of them would fix the situation.

They were done!

So, Belle spun on the heel of her right pump and left, marching out and away from the cabin. There was a moment or two, before she heard an almighty crash behind her, followed by a small cry of pain. She didn't look back, though. Didn't pause to see what had happened. She had said what she had needed to say to him, maybe a little too much, but she had said it and now they were done.

All she could think about was how much of an asshole he was and how stupid she had been all of this time. Not just with Mr Gold, but with everyone. Working every hour, she could get from Granny. Spending all of her days off in her father's shop. Doing whatever Ruby asked her to do. It all had to stop. This wasn't the life she wanted anymore, or ever, but… What could she do? For years, the fantasy of running away with her box of money had kept her going. And if Belle did leave, what then? She'd end up in another dead-end job in another town, trying to make ends meet every month.

"Argh!" Belle huffed out angrily, suddenly stopping in the middle of the track road.

Frowning at her surroundings, she slowly pivoted round to see the track road behind her and further down the track, she could see the slight arch formed from the trees, before you reached the parking area at the front of the cabin. Leaving hadn't been on her mind, when she had left him. Well… It had been, but with the intention of getting her things first. Not walking all the way back into town without them, she surmised as she turned back in the direction of the road. If she went back to the cabin now, for her things, it would only give him more ammunition to humiliate her. With that thought in mind, Belle set off towards the highway.

Standing at the end of the deck with his left hand tucked into the pocket of his trousers, Adam sipped at his scotch, while he looked out over the peaceful lake. He really wished he knew what he was doing, but he was at a complete loss. At the beginning of the week, he had been so sure of what he wanted. He'd executed his plan with precision. Goaded her with the truth until he'd broken her. Then he'd watched her, breathless, as she'd walked away from him, completing the last step of his plan. Giving him exactly what he had wanted at the beginning of the week - proving they could never work.

He tilted his head forward to look at his glass as he tipped it away from him, threatening to spill its contents on the deck, while his thumb traced the intricate pattern cut into the glass. 'What I wanted…', he reflected to himself. It had always been the main driving force in his life: striving for his father's acceptance, studying to be top of his class, winning bigger cases than his father, to be the father he never had, to build a fortune for his son. Business had never been a high priority to Adam. That was mostly child's play, just like it had been to get rid of her. Some decisive pushes at the right buttons and – poof, she'd gone.

"Gone…" He mumbled as he raised his glass to his lips and knocked back its contents.

The dark fruity taste of the scotch was chased down by a hint of honey, soothing the warm burn of the alcohol. Cradling the crystal tumbler in his hand, Adam bounced it slightly in his hand as he turned his gaze towards the old cabin. In the evening light, it was partially hidden behind the shrubs and the shadows casted from the tree branches above it. It had been like fate had been on his side, when he had found her, going through the boxes he'd planned to burn. Stood on the porch, watching her flick through the divorce papers, Adam had been hesitant to take the opportunity, but he was no fool. If she couldn't handle him losing his temper, then it would just be another nail in the coffin of what could have been. And that was why Adam had been a good lawyer and was an exceptional businessman, he knew when to seize an opportunity. Use it to his advantage, so he got the outcome he wanted.

Except, that was the problem. What outcome did he really want?

Tightening his grip around his glass, Adam bowed his head again, putting his chin on his chest, and squeezed his eyes shut. He could see her face – her stunning blue eyes full of anger, her pupils wide chasms of darkness, her cherry red lips slightly parted, cheeks blushed a rosy pink colour - looking as beautiful as ever. Then she had turned, fanning out her curls, and had left the cabin without a glance back at him, just like she had that evening at his house. A furious goddess, who was done with him.

That was when it had hit him.

For three days, all Adam had thought about, was driving her away and proving to himself that they could never work. He had fought every time he had wanted to be nice to her. Chastise himself in private for wanting her. For watching her, when she was sitting on the deck, reading her book. For observing her from the corner of his eye, when she had been curled up with a mug of hot chocolate on the other sofa. For ogling her, when she had been dancing in the kitchen, on the decking, or when she had been dressing in her room and hadn't known he could see her, from where he had been working outside. And after all that - he had stood in his old cabin, alone, knowing she was marching out of his life, like he had wanted – and all he could think about, was getting her back.

He licked at his lips, tasting traces of his scotch, as he shook his head from side to side and turned his view away from the old cabin. There was nothing courageous about his actions that afternoon, or during her stay at his cabin. If he'd been brave enough to let things play out, see where these feelings would've led, he wouldn't have ended up face first into the floor and marked with a cut above his left eyebrow for his trouble.

"Stupid Lego." He grumbled as he raised his left hand to touch his forefinger to the tender cut.

In his haste to go after her, he had slipped on the Lego and the other toys from Neal's childhood, hidden underneath scattered pieces of paper that he had dumped at her feet earlier. Desperate to catch himself, Adam had reached out to a stack of boxes and instead of saving himself, he had only succeeded in pulling the boxes down with him. Landing on his side, the contents of the boxes had fallen out of their boxes and had covered him, while he had hit his head on the edge of the doorstep.

It had taken him a couple of seconds to muster himself, but it had felt like eternity after he had shaken off his daze and blinked himself back into focus. 'Belle…', a voice had whispered to him. Hearing her name had frozen him. Staying quiet, he had listened. Apart from the heavy thuds of his heart in his ear, Adam hadn't been able to hear her. Couldn't hear her angry steps, or the rustling of the grass, or the banging of doors from the other cabin. Alarmed, Adam had pushed away the boxes sitting on him and scrambled to his feet, dropping things that had landed on him onto the floor, while his actions had knocked over another stack of boxes. The once organised cabin was left in disarray, while he had hurried out of there to find her.

Tilting his glass to see the bottom of it, Adam couldn't believe how scared he had gotten, when he had been searching for her. Racing from room to room, he had repeatedly called out her name as he quickly scanned the room for her. Banged open every closed door. Each empty room had increased the tempo of his heart, which had been hammering out a frantic plea to find her on the inside of his ribcage. His chest had ached from the abuse as he had stood on this very spot on the decking, surveying the shore surrounding the lake. All hope had embedded away, when his gaze had come to the old cabin.

"Belle…" Adam had whispered her name before he had rushed back into the house.

He followed his past-self back into the house and detoured to the drinks' cabinet, while his other self dashed to the jackets, hung beside the front door, and had fought with his green suede jacket for his car keys before he'd run out of the house. There had been no need for him to be as frantic as he had been. Afterall, he'd gotten what he had wanted since Sunday afternoon, when he'd convinced himself they could never work. She had gone. Had left so quickly, there had been no trace of her, when he had driven the Cadillac so hard down the track road, the suspension had cried out in protest at him.

'I've always wanted to know the real you!', her confession had echoed in his ear as he had hastily turned onto the highway, heading in the direction of town. Nobody had ever said that to him before. Most were too wary of him, or he kept them on the periphery, so they couldn't get too close to him. After a lifetime of people using and leaving him, Adam had learnt his lesson. Had guarded himself from making connections to people, prevented himself from making the same mistakes. Those who showed an interest, were after something from him and he was wiser now, thanks to Cora.

Except… Belle was different. Her heart was pure and full of goodness. Her father and her friends were her main priority, who she selflessly gave herself to in the name of helping them. A wonder that Adam could watch for hours. Hoping for a chance to understand why such a beautiful woman would ever want to know him. A man, who wouldn't think twice about making a deal with the devil, who could do the ugliest of things to people, who would quite happily fuck anyone over, if it got him what he wanted. A man, who didn't deserve to be in her company, when his heart was darker than anyone else's. He was the one, who wasn't good enough. Not her. Never her. Her light shone fiercely, pushing back the darkness, keeping it at bay, while Adam clung to the shadows, needing the shroud of darkness.

She could - never - be beneath him.

It had been after the Cadillac had smoothly gilded round a bend and the road had straightened out, Adam had seen the big green sign in the distance, announcing he was 'Welcome to Storybrooke', and saw a short figure walking along the side of the road. Blowing out a hot breath, he had anxiously checked his mirrors, glanced all the way around him, while he had flicked down the stalk for the signal. The sight of her should've soothed the insistent beat of his heart, but it hadn't. As he'd passed Belle and swung the car in front of her, to block her path, his heart had stuffed itself into his throat, with the threat to choke him to death if he didn't rectify the situation.

Leaving the car running, Adam had quickly gotten out of the car, leaving his car door open as well, and had moved to intercept her as Belle had demanded. "What do you want now?"

"I just want to talk." He had told her with his hands held up, surrendering to her.

"I'm not interested in talking to you." She had insisted, while changing direction to avoid him.

He had dashed along the side of the car to obstruct her path at the trunk of the car, keeping his hands up to her. "Then just listen to me." Several feet away from him, she halted and glared at him. "Please…?"

"We're done." Belle had told him, crossing her arms in front of her.

His nostrils had flared somewhat with the sudden breath he'd taken, struck deeply with her words. Lowering his hands, he had taken a step towards her. It had been strange, but he had felt the need to be closer to her as he spoke.

"I understand that." Adam had taken another sly step closer. "But you were wrong."

Turning her head partially to the left, Belle had eyed him as she had inquired. "About what?"

Absently, his hands had waved between them and then they'd been drawn together, allowing Adam to play with the band on his right ring finger as he had answered her. "Everything."

He smirked as he poured himself a small amount of scotch, remembering the look of disbelief on her face before she had hit him with another question, insisting he tell her the truth. "What do you mean, everything? I was there! You've been a complete asshole to me, this week. I didn't imagine it!"

"I'm not saying you did, because I was." Adam had paused before continuing, knowing it had been his last chance to change his mind. "I was a total asshole to you, and I did it on purpose, to push you away."

Flabbergasted, Belle's mouth had dropped open and at the same time, her arms had demolished their protective barrier in front of her heart, leaving her arms to hang at her sides, as he had persisted with his truth. "I'm not going to excuse my behaviour. I'm sorry." He had to glance away from her, actually feeling remorseful. "I'm really sorry that I made your stay miserable, but… I need you to understand why I did it."

The glare, she had been giving him, had weakened and a hint of curiosity had been in the gleam of her eye, as he had said. "Letting people get close to me isn't easy. It's hard for me to trust people." His gaze had briefly gone to his ring, that he had been nervously twirled, back and forth, on his finger. "I'm sure, you can understand, because of my wealth and standing, people try to take advantage. And over the years, I've become sceptical of people's interest in me. So much so, I don't recognise real interest anymore."

"So, again, I'm genuinely sorry that I became offensive and disrespectful towards you. It was never my intention to make you feel inadequate, because you're an exceptional woman, Miss French." He had affirmed, whilst taking another step towards her, closing the space between them to less than a foot. "You're kind, thoughtful, beautiful." His hand had raised to touch the backs of his fingers to her cheek. "You show compassion to everyone, even those who don't deserve it. Me, especially. I've never deserved it." He had firmly held her gaze as he had lowered his hand. "I'm blown away by the fact that you genuinely want to get to know me, and if you accept my apology, Miss French, I'd like to show you the real me."

It was half the truth. Confessing his feelings had seemed unnecessary, and could cause further conflict between them. He had aimed to admit as much as he could. Exposing himself to her, making himself weak was unacceptable. There were many things he'd be willing to do for her, but that was something he could never – ever – allow himself to do. Not for anyone.

"Not even for Neal." Adam muttered under his breath as he raised the rim of the glass to his lips and downed the scotch, he'd poured for himself.

Her eyes had half closed, scrutinising him as she had countered his apology. "You didn't need to get so personal. You could've just told me and I would've stopped asking questions."

"I told you; I'm not going to give you any excuses. It was appalling, and no heartfelt apology could ever atone for my behaviour. I just hope I get the opportunity to try and make it up to you." His hands had come together, unconsciously praying for her to give him a chance.

The minor lines on her brow had told him she had been suspicious of his apology, but she'd been considering it. Adam had held his tongue. During his time as a lawyer, he had learnt when to speak and when it was best to allow the offer to be digested. His hands had migrated back together, seeking out his ring. A habit he had developed to channel his impatience. Spending, sometimes, hours in a courtroom, waiting to hear the verdict, had given him a bad habit, he had been unable to liberate himself of. Thankfully, Belle hadn't left him waiting too long for his answer.

As he placed his empty glass onto the drinks' cabinet, the distinct sound of heeled steps drew his gaze up to the walkway above, connecting the two guest bedrooms. Shifting his feet, he turned to watch Belle, as she gracefully walked across the landing to the stairs, occupied with adjusting the earring in her left ear. The dark blue dress reminded him of when he had first seen her at the Club. When he had recognised her as a woman he desired, instead of the naive girl he'd seen grow up. There was no other word for it – Belle was mesmerising before she dipped out of a sight, to then reappear at the foot of the stairs, taking his breath away.

To her, he would've appeared his cool usual self, but the truth - His heart had stopped as soon as he'd seen her. His breath had caught deep down inside of his lungs. He was all but ready to drop down onto his knees as Belle strolled confidently towards him, showing him her megawatt smile. His eyes lowered, taking in her form fitting dress, she'd happened to bring with her. The blue silky ruched material pulled his gaze to the front of her dress, while the smoothed sides of the dress emphasised the slender indent of her waist and the curve of her hips. Slowly his view migrated upwards to her breasts. They were an ample size, but her dress… Accentuated the size of them, beckoning him to touch them, to caress them, to peel the straps off her shoulders and nip lick and suck her nipples until she screamed for him to stop.

"Sorry, I've been a while." She apologised with a sparkle in the corner of her eye, while she slowed to a stop near the breakfast bar in the kitchen area, slowly smoothing her hands down the front of her dress, her thumbs stroked the peaks of the ruched material.

"It's quite alright, Miss French," Adam informed her, briefly dipping his gaze to the black high heels she was wearing. "The wait was worth it."

Unhurried, her eyes roamed him from head to toe, taking in his appearance. "It's unusual for you not to wear a waistcoat."

"I like to dress more casually on my dinner dates. Unless, you'd prefer otherwise." His eyebrows faintly pushed up his brow, creating very faint curved lines on his forehead.

Clearly, on purpose, her eyes travelled down the front of his suit, all the way down to the floor, and took their time coming back up to meet his gaze. "No… I suppose… You'll do."

Adam smiled as his gaze flicked to nowhere in particular, then rebounded straight back to her. Her smirk was unmistakable. She was being conservative with the power he'd given her, but she was clearly enjoying the control she had over him. 'Anything?', Belle had enquired with her right eyebrow arched high on her forehead, distrusting his offer to do whatever she had wanted. An offering, he had hoped, would be a small step on the road of his redemption.

"Shall we depart?" He queried, vaguely gesturing with his left hand towards the front door.

"Yep!" Belle's response was quick.

Amused, his smile widened as he started towards her and held out his arm, when he was closer, and guided her towards the front door. Her hands came together and clasped in front of her, squeezing her fingers. He noted the nervous action with a short glimpse from the corner of his eye. It was the first time her confidence had wavered. Each of her requests had only served to strengthen her. Though, they hadn't been much – massage her shoulders (to test the waters), a visit to Sherman's bookstore in Freeport, a book… or five, lunch at the Muddy Rudder on the way home, before she had presented him with her boldest request.

Sat at the breakfast bar, Adam had presented her with the mug of tea she had requested, stretching across the kitchen island to place it in front of her. She had smiled at him, with a coy look in her eye, while she had wrapped her hands around the white porcelain mug. Placing his hands onto the edge of the kitchen island, he had stood opposite to her and had waited for her to say whatever was on her mind.

Her right thumb had traced the rim of the mug as Belle had asked him. "Today has been nice, but can I ask for one more thing?"

"Just one more thing?" He had inquired before giving her a brief shake of his head. "While you're here with me, you can ask for whatever your heart desires."

"Then, could we go out for dinner tomorrow night? Somewhere fancy?" She had requested.

"Burgers at Granny's?" He had jested, broadly smiling at the instant deep scowl on Belle's face.

"No!" Her lips had twisted to show her disdain. "No, I mean a proper restaurant."

Feigning confusion, Adam had questioned her meaning. "Where they serve actual food?"

Her eyes had rolled at him before she had treated him to a genuine smile. "Yes, actual food."

"Hmm…" He had hummed as he had slid his hands forward, lowering himself down onto his elbows, bracing his weight on the counter with his forearms, bringing them eye level. "I think we can facilitate your request."

Smoothly moving ahead of her, Adam wore a faint grin on his face, cherishing the memory, as he opened the door for her, with his gaze naturally wandering down her attire to her black heels. Most nights, he dreamt of the last time they'd had sex. Reliving the delightful sting of her dark blue heels threatening to pierce his skin. Heels had never been a kink for him, but there was just something about Belle, when she was wearing a pair of high heels, that made the muscles in his stomach tense. It could've been anything from the way she walked to how confident she looked dressed up for the evening. Which was why, as Belle passed him to go out of the door, smelling delicious, he could've spun her round, pinned her against the door and ravished her.

He ambled out behind her, closing the door behind him, living in the fantasy playing out in his mind. First, he'd grab her hands and pin them above her head, easily managing to pin both her wrists with his one hand. Second, he'd kiss her. Mash their lips together, fight for entrance into her mouth, hungry to taste her. He'd groan at her mouth opening eagerly to him, at her tongue thrusting into his mouth. Wanting him as much as he wanted her. Their bodies would press against one of another, hips gyrating together, seeking any kind of friction. Thirdly, he'd yank up the hem of her dress and rip those pretty little panties off her, because he knew she'd be wearing some frilly little underwear for him. Her little cry would be trapped in their mouths, while he teased the tip of his forefinger around her already wet…

"Aren't you coming?" She called, half turning to see him standing in front of the door, his hand resting on the door handle, blatantly staring in her direction.

His left hand slipped from the handle, whilst he flashed her a smile, telling her when he started towards the car. "Course."

At a quick pace, Adam joined her as she got to the passenger door and opened her door for her, offering his hand to aid her in getting into the car. Belle gave his hand a curious look before she laid her slender hand into, accepting his invitation. Guarding the door with his other hand, he observed her as she sank to sit onto the edge of the car seat and swivelled her legs into the car, maintaining her gaze on him above her. His thumb stroked over the back of her hand, whilst he withdrew his hand. The small movement of her drawing her lower lip to bite caught his eye, while he pushed her car door shut. Taking the longer route around the rear of the car, Adam covertly adjusted the tightness in his trousers. After he got into the car, he glimpsed at Belle beside him, offered a friendly smile, and tried to keep his thoughts pure as he turned the car around and drove them to the restaurant.

The Cadillac rose from a purr to a distinct roar, when Adam pulled out onto route 88, heading north towards Yarmouth. His right forefinger tapped the edge of the steering wheel. A ridiculous attempt to occupy his hand. Keeping it from seeking out her hand, her leg, her. The temptation was strong, almost too strong for him to resist. Thankfully though, before the temptation overtook him, he was busy making the turn into the boat landing parking lot, which led to the Royal River Grill House's parking lot.

"Oh, wow, I've never been to this restaurant." Belle shared with him, then sheepishly looked at him, catching his eye. "Although, I haven't been out of Storybrooke in years."

He reminded her as the car straightened itself. "We went to Freeport yesterday."

"Yes," The blush in her cheeks deepened in colour. "But that was the first time in four… Possibly five years."

"So, since you came back from college, you haven't crossed the town line?" Adam asked, shocked.

Her head tilted to the left, hiding her face from him as she answered him. "No, not really."

Coasting the car through the parking lot, Adam followed the road to the other side of the large building, where the signs directed him to the restaurant's parking lot. His upper lip curled into a snarl. He loathed her father and the more he heard, the more he wanted to beat some sense into the man. Even if he had paid off his loan in full to Dove, earlier in the week, Adam could easily find other ways to make the man's life a living hell. Surely, the inspection was due on the house, on the shop. Maybe, there was some maintenance due, which would interrupt his business. Adam would need to dig through her father's file on his laptop, when they got back to the cabin.

"Have you been here before?" She inquired, bringing him back to her.

Turning the wheel, Adam eased the car into a spot, which faced the waterfront, where several boats were moored to the jetties stretching out from the shore. "Quite a few times."

"I can't actually remember the last time I went out for dinner. Unless, you count ordering from Chung-Pow's." Belle said with a soft smile.

"No, I wouldn't." He told her, while putting the gear selector into park and turning off the engine to take out the key. "But we'll rectify that tonight, and tomorrow night, and Sunday night before I take you back."

"What? But I only brought the one dress!" She exclaimed, surprised by his declaration.

His hands exchanged his car keys before he instinctively reached for her hand, satisfying his need to touch her, and told her with an intent look in his eye. "I don't care what you wear. Dress or not, you're beautiful, no matter what. And I will be taking you out tomorrow and Sunday, even if it means I take you dress shopping tomorrow, to make you more comfortable."

"I…" Her lips stayed apart, urging him to lean in and kiss her.

"That's what's happening, Miss French. Accept it." Adam gave her hand a firm squeeze, then opened his car door, getting out to take a breath after closing his door.

He hadn't been so angry in a long time. Sure, his tenants and business associates annoyed him at times, but those problems were easily fixed and people were quickly put back in their place. The more he heard of Belle's private life, the more he wanted to have some swift words with Maurice. If he was her boyfriend, partner, husband, not so better half – 'Whatever!', he exclaimed to himself, while marching around the rear of the car – he'd warn Maurice. Take the man to one side, threaten to break his arm and legs, his will to live, if he didn't let Belle live her own life. She deserved better than what the two of them could offer her.

As Adam opened her car door, Belle started to tell him. "Honestly, Mr Gold, there's no need. Tonight, is all I asked for. You don't need to go to so much trouble on my account."

On instinct, he offered his hand to her and latched his thumb over the top of her hand, once it was in his, and stepped back, helping her out of the car. "If you're going to learn anything, by the end of this vacation, it's that you're worth the trouble."

"That's nice and all, but we both know, you're just being nice, because you want to get back in my good graces." She hit the nail on the head, but couldn't hear the truth in his words.

He used their joined hands to pull her aside and shoved her door too, rocking the car with the effort, and moved into her personal space, looking her dead in the eye. "My own stupidity doesn't change the facts, Miss French." He took in a breath, soothing the anger he harboured for himself. "You are worth so much more than how everyone treats you. Me, included. What you need to learn, is that if you want people to treat you better in life, you need to start treating yourself better, and be the strong woman, who stood up to the big bad Mr Gold the other day. Because you deserve the world, Miss French, you just need to go after it and seize it with both hands, if that's what you want."

Wide eye, Belle questioned him. "You think I was strong the other day?"

"Think?" A soft smile touched his lips as he raised his hand to brush the back of his fingers across her cheek. "I know you're strong. I wouldn't be attracted to you, if you weren't."

Her eyes bounced from side to side, taking in every aspect of his face till her gaze settled on his eyes. Belle was searching for something. Possibly a sign that he was speaking the truth. A tell, which would give away the game he was playing with her. He didn't blame her. He was the worst of everyone in her life, telling her things, truths and half-truths to get his way with her. Not tonight. Not on her night.

"Come." He smiled sweetly at her, whilst reluctantly lowering his hand down from her cheek. "Let's go and enjoy our night out."

Settling into his side, Belle fell easily into step with him and slyly glanced at him as they stepped onto the path, leading to the entrance of the establishment. He didn't meet her quizzical look. He hadn't meant to lay it on so thick with her, but he didn't regret it. Someone had to tell her. Running around for everyone, especially her father, wasn't doing her any favours. Not when she was tired and broke most of the time. He still couldn't believe that she couldn't afford a new pair of shoes for work.

Near the door, he steered Belle to walk ahead of him and moved to walk at her other side, ready to open the door for her. She paused in front of the open doorway to look at him, a small line drawn between her brows. Touching his right hand to lower back again, Adam gestured with his head for her to go ahead of him. Her eyes squinted at him, judging him for a split second before she gave in and headed inside. The interior door had been pinned open, allowing them to head straight into the restaurant. Belle stopped short, once she was through the open doorway, turning to wait for him.

As Adam came up beside Belle, a female server approached them with a smile. "Mr Gold, a pleasure as always. I'll take you straight to your table."

"We'd rather have a table on the terrace tonight." He requested, clasping Belle's elbow to direct her towards the outside terrace.

"Very good, sir." She bobbed her head at him and swung her arm to gesture in the direction he had already turned Belle. "If you wouldn't mind following me."

Belle looked at him, but all he had to offer her was a reassuring smile. Trusting him to guide her, her gaze went from him, up to the mezzanine dining area where he usually sat, to the expensive bottles of booze on display behind the bar, floor to ceiling. Her gaze came back to Adam and again, he offered her the same sentiment, while they obediently followed the server through an open doorway and onto the covered terrace outside. Belle's heels became more prominent outside, clacking across the wooden floor to the table the server presented to them.

"This'll do nicely, thank you." Adam told the server as he let go of Belle's arm and waved her to take the chair the server had pulled out from the table.

As Belle sat down onto the chair, she said, looking at the view. "The view's amazing."

Unbuttoning the top button of his suit jacket, allowing it to hang open, Adam asked the server as he pulled out his own chair. "Could you bring us a bottle of Rombauer to start with?"

"Course, sir." The server nodded her head to him, acknowledging his order, and briskly headed back into the restaurant.

"I love the intricate ropes and lights dangling from them, making it more like a chandelier. It ties in nicely with the boats." Belle remarked, twisting in her chair to see it stretched to see the beautiful display stretched to the other side of the terrace. "A very big chandelier."

A young man approached their table, dressed in the same uniform of the female server, and presented them with their menus. "If you'd like to peruse the menu while you wait, Dani will be out soon with your order."

"Thank you." Adam took the menus and handed one of them to Belle, while the young man went back into the main restaurant.

"What did you order?" She asked, opening her menu out onto the table.

"Just a bottle of wine." He opened out his menu. "Unless, you'd prefer a rum and coke."

"Maybe later. Wine will be fine for now, though." She told him, lifting her eyes to meet him across the table.

The sound of glasses chinking came from Adam's left as he said to Belle. "You don't have to have it, if you don't want to. This is your evening. You can have whatever you want."

"No, no, it's fine. Honestly." Belle assured, waving her hand at his offer, as two wine glasses were placed, in turn, onto the table. "The wines you pick have been really nice. Not like the stuff Ruby buys."

"That's because I don't pick the cheapest on the bottom shelf, which I assume normally comes in a box, with a pretty little picture on the side of it." Adam surmised, while watching the female server, Dani, uncork the bottle of wine he'd ordered.

Dani offered the cork to Adam and he took it after laying his menu onto the table, as Belle said to him. "We buy what we can afford. Not all of us have money to throw away."

Holding the cork under his nose, he smelt the aromas of black cherry, cassis, spice and… A hint of mint, he believed, as he looked at Belle across the table. Claiming one of the wine glasses, Belle slid it across the table, closer to Dani, and waited for their server to pour her a glass of the wine. The young woman graciously nodded her head, and poured Belle a taste of the wine. Stepping back from the table, Dani was treated to a very confused look from Belle, who looked from the miniscule amount of wine to the face of the young woman, standing beside their table. He couldn't help his smirk as he placed the cork down onto the table, then pointed to his glass, indicating to Dani to pour him a taste amount as well.

"When you're tasting wine, you should inspect the colour of it." He explained, picking up his wine glass, pinching the stem between his thumb and forefinger, and inspected the wine. "With red's, you want to look to see if the colour's fading, or whether there is an orange or brown colour at the rim of the glass. These colours will show the wine has aged."

"Oh…" Belle slid her glass across the table to sit in front of her, and tilted her head to the side, looking lost at the wine glass in front of her.

His eyes flicked to her, nothing but amused with her, as he continued to explain, performing the actions as he covered them. "When you swirl the wine inside of the glass, it amplifies the aroma of the wine, so you can smell the different scents that make up the flavour of the wine."

"I thought it was just something fancy they did in films." She confessed to him, while lifting her wine glass to swirl it, but quickly put it back down, when the dark red liquid threatened to leap out of her glass.

"No." Adam sipped the wine and moved it around his mouth, almost chewing it, before he swallowed it.

Dani bent herself forward, bringing herself down slightly into Adam's view, and presented the bottle to him. "Is it to your liking, Mr Gold?"

"Very nice." He nodded his head at her, while putting his glass down onto the table, and gestured for the young woman to pour the wine.

Belle mirrored him, by moving her glass towards Dani, and probed him, while the server topped up their glasses. "Where did you learn to do that? From your father? Your mother?"

His bemused smile died at the thought of his father. The only thing his father had ever taught him, was to stay away and to bottle up his emotions. 'Can't you do something about that boy's sniffling. It's like damn nails on a chalkboard.', his father had remarked. The one and only time, he had acknowledged Adam's existence.

"I'll be back in a little while to take your order, Mr Gold." Dani told him, reaching to put the bottle on the other side of the table.

"Thank you." Adam said to the server, postponing Belle's answer until Dani was a fair distance away from their table. "It was part of my etiquette lessons at boarding school."

"Boarding school?" She asked, her eyes wide with wonder.

"Yes, boarding school." He confirmed, reaching to move his glass of wine closer.

Her fine eyebrows pushed together, creating a thin line of curiosity between them. "So… You came from money, then?"

"That would be a fair assessment." His thumb and forefinger ran up and down the stem of his wine glass. "But everything I've done, everything I've accomplished, was my own doing. I made my own fortune."

Belle's slender fingers wrapped around her glass, drawing his eyes for a second, and raised the rim of the glass to her lips, asking him. "There was a news article in one of the boxes at your cabin, reporting you'd won a big court case for a group of miners? I didn't know you were a lawyer."

He shrugged his shoulders at her, saying in a short tone. "Why would you? I don't exactly go around advertising the fact."

Her glass stilled before her lips as she looked at him over the rim of her glass. The fingers playing with the stem of the wine glass stopped, whilst Adam's lips parted and he drew in a shallow breath to blow instantly back out, with a faint whisper of a curse. He really didn't mean to be short with her. It was plain to see on Belle's face that she was hurt by this little setback.

While she took a large gulp of her drink, he sat forward, placing his forearms onto the table, so he could get closer to her. "I'm sorry." Her eyes flashed a well-deserved glare at him. "I didn't mean to be short with you."

"It's fine." She muttered, whilst putting her glass down on the table.

"No, it's not. You were simply trying to have a pleasant conversation with me, and I ruined it." As he sat back into his chair, he gestured with his hands for her to bring it on. "Ask, whatever it is, that you'd like to know about me."

"If you're not comfortable, I'm not going to push the issue." Belle stated, with her fingertip tracing the base of her glass until the stem of the glass stopped her, forcing her to run the path in the other direction till the same thing happened again.

"I promise to behave. Scouts honour." He held up his hand, giving her the scouts salute, but with the wrong fingers being held up.

Peering at him with half hooded eyes, a tiny smirk teased at the corner of her lips as she questioned his honour. "Were you even a boy scout?"

He glanced at his hand, made a show of correcting fingers and then genuinely smiled at her, dropping his hand down to the table. "Course not."

"I couldn't see you being a boy scout." Belle laughed, erasing the disappointment from her face.

As Adam reached for his glass of wine, his right eyebrow arched curiously at her. "No?"

Her finger stopped midway round the base of her wine glass and lifted her eyes to meet his gaze. "No. You strike me more as being the bad boy, when you were younger."

"Me? A bad boy, Miss French? I don't know what you'd mean by that." He declared with a straight face and raised his glass to his lips, smirking at her as he sipped the deep red wine.

"I bet." She wore a smirk as she watched him.

"Are you and your guest ready to order, Mr Gold?" Dani asked discreetly, hovering close to their table, but out of his view to not disturb them.

Blinking in disbelief, Belle's gaze went to the server as Adam turned his head to the side, telling her. "Give us a moment."

"Very well, sir." And the server retreated back into the main restaurant.

Belle picked up her menu and began studying it. "Sorry."

"For what?" He asked, intrigued.

"I should've already decided what I wanted to eat. Now, it's going to take longer for our meal to come out and we'll be here late." She hastily explained, moving her attention to the second page of the menu.

Adam grabbed the top of her menu and lowered it, gaining Belle's attention. "You take as long as you want. I'm in no hurry. We can be out until the early morning, for all I care." He let go of the menu, tossing his hand up into the air. "Hell, we can go for a drink somewhere else afterwards, if that's what you wish."

"Okay." She acknowledged with a short nod of her head.

Retracting his arm, he suggested to her. "The crab cakes are very nice. As well as the mussels and the shrimp for an appetiser."

Belle's head cocked to the side. "We're having appetisers, as well as mains?"

"You're having whatever you want." He asserted.

"I just thought…" She looked at the menu between her hands and limply gestured with it. "With so many items being expensive, you'd want to…"

"I want you to have a good time tonight and not think about the cost of things." He decreed to her, while picking up his menu to close it and lay it near the edge of the table.

"Are you sure? I mean," Her lips twisted with a weary shrug of her left shoulder. "You paid for lunch, and bought me all those books yesterday. I'm quite happy to have the cheapest item on the menu tonight. It's just nice to go out to a proper restaurant for once."

Taking a moment to study her, he still couldn't get over how different she was from all the other women who'd been in his life. Mostly, Milah and Cora. They wouldn't have considered the cost of things. They would've expected him to pay for everything. Ordering the most expensive dishes and wines, and no doubt leaving most of the food and downing the majority of the wine.

Adam brought his hands together on the table and laced his fingers. "I'm very sure, Miss French. Have whatever you want."

"Okay." A broad toothy smile beamed at him before she lifted her menu, partially covering her face from him.

He sat quietly and observed her as she absorbed the menu. There was so much about her, he'd never understand. Like why she had chosen to come back to the cabin with him. He wouldn't have blamed her for choosing to go home, to rid herself all together of him. She had been quite adamant at the side of the road that they were done. Adam had seen it in her eyes. It was the reason he was making the most of their time together and working so hard to earn her forgiveness for his earlier behaviour. The next time he fucked up, (and he would, it was in his nature), he doubted she'd be as willing to forgive him next time.

"It's so hard to choose. Those appetisers you suggested, all sound delicious." Belle suddenly declared, looking at him over the top of her menu.

With a carefree nod of his head to the side and a shrug of his shoulders, he told her. "We'll order all three then, and we'll share them."

"We can do that?" She asked, tilting her menu towards herself, revealing more of her face.

"For you," He hadn't meant to pause, but the look on her face caused him to catch his breath. "Course, we can."

Her brow pushed up in the middle, forming the faintest of lines across her brow, as she stretched her neck, protruding her chin over the edge of the menu. "Are you sure?"

"Miss French, if you're seeking punishment later, I by all means can facilitate your need later. But right now, I am very sure." Adam playfully threatened her with a sly smirk as he reached for his glass of wine and took a sip.

Belle sucked in her lower lip and bit down hard. Placing his glass onto the table, he couldn't take his eyes off her. Everything dwindled in comparison to her, looking so stunning in her dark blue dress, with her hair hanging loose around her shoulders, naturally curling, begging for him to play with it. Twirl each curl around his finger. Wrap the length of it around his hand and pull on it. His right thumb rubbed at the side of his right forefinger, remembering how soft her hair had been, when he'd used her plaited hair for leverage.

"Do you need more time, Mr Gold?" Dani, the server, asked, after stealthily creeping up behind him.

Squeezing his thumb and forefinger together, killing his racy memory, he directed the question to Belle. "Do you need more time, sweetheart?"

Looking a little flustered, Belle switched her eyes between him and Dani, hovering somewhere near behind his left shoulder, then smiled sheepishly at Dani. "No… I… I have an idea of what I want."

Adam twisted his head to the left and slightly raised his chin to see Dani above him. "We'd like to start with the Maine crab cakes, Maine mussels and bang-bang shrimp." The scoff noise from the other side of the table attracted a glance from him, to see Belle had turned her face away from him and was covering the half of her face he could see with her hand. "Could you bring two plates out with them?"

"Yes, of course, Mr Gold." Dani wrote down the instruction, but with a smirk, peeked at Belle as she wrote.

"For main, I'd like the grilled pork." He informed her with his hands lacing together on the table.

Scribbling on her notepad, Dani inquired for Belle's order. "And for you, ma'am?"

She took her hand away from her face to reveal her smirk and avoided eye contact with Adam, as she handed their server the menu, giving her order at the same time. "I'll have the wood grilled salmon."

"Very nice choice." Dani commented to Belle, gathering the two menus to tuck under her arm. "Anything else?"

"No, thank you, Dani." He replied, his gaze on Belle across the table.

With a glance at Belle, directing the same question to her, who gave a simple shake of her, Dani smiled at either of them before she scooted away from their table, giving them privacy. Still avoiding his gaze, Belle picked up her glass of wine and took a very generous sip from it. She twisted in her seat to take in the view outside of the window. The slender slope of her throat caught his eye. In his mind, the tip of his finger would trace down the centre of it, dip in and out of her jugular notch, and would voyage further down till his finger could disappear down into the bosom of her dress.

"This is a beautiful view." Belle voiced her opinion as she placed her glass down and scooted round in her seat to face him.

"It's a… bang-bang of a view." And remained stoic, even though he wanted to smile at her.

Her head shook at him, jostling her curls. "That was your fault. If you hadn't been threatening to…" She stopped and glanced around, remembering they were somewhere public, and said in a much quieter voice before continuing in her normal voice. "Spank me – Then my mind wouldn't have been there."

"Interesting." Adam remarked.

"What is?" She asked, sliding her wine glass to sit more in front of her.

"Ten weeks ago, you were appalled with the thought of… What was it again?" He feigned a lax in memory as he canted himself forward, crowding the table, and unlaced his fingers to lift his hand into the air, clicking his fingers at his fake eureka moment. "Ah, yes! Gagging, whipping and shaming." He gestured to her with his hand. "And now, when I say the word 'punishment', your first thought is spanking."

Uncertain, Belle's eyes squinted at him. "Wasn't that the point of enlightening me?"

He allowed himself to smile at her. "Of course, which is why we're going to toast to it."

"Toast it?" She questioned, yet she was already picking up her glass, watching him as he did the same.

"Yes, to your awakening." He held up his glass and made the toast. "And to much more gagging, whipping and shaming in the future."

Belle's cheeks bloomed a deep pink and confidently met his gaze across the table, whilst chinking their glasses together. Neither of them looked away as they brought their glasses to their lips and sipped the expensive wine. Savouring the taste, Adam's tongue slipped out of his mouth and licked the taste from his lips. Her striking blue eyes darted down to his lips, intently watching until he drew his tongue back into his mouth. A grin broke out on his face, loving her evident interest in him.

As they put their glasses down onto the table and as Adam relaxed back into his chair, Belle said to him. "You've never said how you got into it."

"You've never asked." He countered, touching the base of his wine glass with his fingertips.

She rolled her eyes at him and leaned forward onto the table with her forearms, asking him. "How did you get into it?"

"Like anyone else, I fucked someone who was into it." The piece of information was dropped, like it meant nothing.

There was a curious gleam in her eyes as Belle pushed for more information. "Like a girlfriend, or something?"

His eyes wandered out of the window, taking in the boats bobbing gently in the water and the shore on the opposite side of the river. He had promised to show her the real him, but being open wasn't easy. His natural reaction was to deflect. Change the subject. Breaking his promise to her, after all the shit he had given her in the week, was the last thing he wanted to do. Yet, it didn't stop the impulse.

"No, Susanne was my father's secretary." Adam began to tell her, bringing his gaze back to her across the table. "She liked it rough, really rough. So, after fucking a couple of times, she invited me to a 'party', as they used to call it. The more I went to them, the more I experienced and the more I liked it, and the more I got invited to the parties."

"Cruella said, she met you at one of these parties." Belle interjected, still leaning forward onto the table, genuinely interested to know more, and it petrified him.

"We did. At one of Charles's parties." He verified, noticing their server coming through the door, carrying a very large round tray.

"So, were these parties, like some kind of mass orgy?" She queried with Dani approaching their table.

Holding back his answer, he moved his glass of wine out of the way and sat up straighter, while Dani placed the large tray onto the empty table near theirs and began delivering their appetisers and the empty plates to their place setting. Belle moved her wine glass to one side and helped Dani, by rearranging things on the table, making room for the extra plates. From the look on Dani's face, she had heard Belle's question during her approach to the table. She eyed Belle and as she put the final plate in front of Adam, she gave Adam the once over. As though, she was seeing him in a different light, after all this time.

"Would you care for any sauces? Or any drinks?" Dani enquired, standing beside their table with her hands clasped in front of her.

"Miss French?" He redirected the question.

With a sure shake of her head, Belle smiled up at the server. "No, thank you."

"Enjoy then." Dani told them as she backed up from their table and left them, collecting the tray on her way back to the kitchen.

Belle told him, while eyeing the appetisers on the table. "I don't know where to start. They all look delicious."

Picking up his fork from his place setting and the appetiser of crab cakes, he answered her question, while serving one to her and one to himself, leaving the third one on the plate. "No, the parties weren't a mass orgy. Although, there probably had been one, in one of the rooms."

"Did you not take part in them?" She coolly asked.

"Once or twice, but I don't tend to play well with others." He told her, serving some of the shrimp to her plate and then his own.

"So… Did Susanne continue to attend these parties with you?" She probed, while selecting her fork from the table.

"No, she liked the thrill of being with someone new, who was vanilla. After a handful of times together, she found someone else and moved on from them too, when she was done with them." Adam explained, exchanging the shrimp for the final appetiser of mussels.

Pursing her lips together, a question was brewing as he knocked a few mussels onto her plate, but it wasn't until he was giving himself a portion, Belle asked the question. "Did you meet your ex-wife at one of the parties?"

He stopped with the plate of mussels and his fork hovering above his own plate. "Milah?" And laughed. "God, no!"

"Is that your ex-wife's name?" She quickly queried him.

Returning the plate to its spot on the table, he glanced around the restaurant, confused how the conversation had veered to his ex-wife, and brought his gaze back to Belle, saying. "Yeah, that was… Is her name."

"I take it from the laugh, she didn't have the same tastes as you." She remarked, using the side of her fork to cut into the crab cake.

"Same tastes?" He laughed again and shook his head, stabbing some shrimp onto his fork. "We had nothing in common, apart from the beautiful boy we created from a one-night stand."

Frowning, Belle chopped the piece of crab cake she had cut in half again. "Then why did you marry her? You could've just co-parented Neal."

With a bemused smile, Adam fed himself the shrimp from his fork, then rested his fork on his plate, so he could top up their drinks, telling her. "I was brought up in a time where you married a girl, if you got her pregnant. Not broker a deal to see the child, so many times a month, and argue over which holidays you'd get to spend with them."

"Things worked out in the end though, for you and Neal." She waved her fork at him before loading her fork with a piece of crab cake. "You thankfully got him full time."

Adam put the bottle of wine back and picked up his glass, saying. "I know you read the file containing my divorce papers. There are things in there that even Neal doesn't know about, and I'd rather it stayed that way."

Lowering the loaded fork from her mouth to set it down on her plate, Belle reached across the table with her right hand and grasped the fingers of his left hand. "I wouldn't ever do that."

He had to put his glass down, when her slender fingers clenched around his thicker fingers. The touch was more intimate than anything they'd ever shared before, and it sent a small shock up his fingers and into his arm. Staring at her fingers, his thumb latched across them and began to stroke the soft smooth skin of her fingers. Crisscrossing a slow deliberate pattern across the middle knuckles of her fingers. Adam's eyes went from her hand to her arm, to her shoulder, and then to her face.

"I wouldn't, I swear." She vowed, squeezing his hand.

The movement of his thumb stilled as he admitted. "I know."

The edges of her mouth twitched with a threat of a smile, but instead, her fingers gave his hand one more squeeze before she took her hand back, claimed her fork from her plate, and changed the conversation to a brighter subject. "How did you go from being a lawyer to an antique dealer and landlord of an entire town?"

Through the rest of the appetisers and their main course, the conversation flowed easily between them. Bouncing between subjects, they discussed parts of his past, things from Belle's past, literature, history, art and anything that happened to come to mind as they talked. It was so new to have someone genuinely interested in learning more about him. With slight tilts of her head, maintaining eye contact, the odd touches of his hand here and there; Belle had been keen to listen to him and engaged him with more questions.

As they had stepped out of the restaurant into the late evening, the conversation was as strong as it had been during dinner. Adam escorted Belle back to the car with his hand lingering at the lowest part of her back, tantalising close to the beginning of her round butt. Listening to her recall the day, when Granny had called her at college to tell Belle about her father, he wickedly wished as they approached the car, that her father had died from his heart attack. Just so Belle, wouldn't have been trapped all these years in his god forsaken town. Stuck doing something she hated, instead of something she would love and be passionate about.

"In some ways, it wasn't a hard decision to stay." Belle confessed, coming to a stop beside the Cadillac. "Very much like your decision to leave Scotland and be a great father to Neal."

Stopping with his hand clasped around the handle of the passenger door, ready to open it for her, he felt it was the right time to ask her something, which had been burning at the back of his mind. "Why don't you go back now?"

"Go back where?" She asked with lines highlighting her confusion on her forehead.

"Go back to college." He reiterated, watching her eyes carefully for her reaction.

Her eyes bulged at the notion before she looked down at the ground, then lifted her gaze sharply to meet his. "I can't afford to go back. I lost my scholarship, when I dropped out and it's been over four years. There's no chance I could go back now."

"If you could afford to do it, would you?" Adam asked, with his head canting to the side, intrigued to hear her answer.

Her lips pressed together as her eyes began to wander, and when they finally came back to him, her smile was infectious as she told him. "Course, I would. To go and do what I wanted to do. To be who I wanted to become. In a heartbeat, I would go back, if I could afford to do it. But…" Her smile slowly died. "I can't, because I've got to think about my dad. So… No, I can't go back."

"You should apply to go back. You never know what could happen, and I heard not so long ago, they're doing great financial packages for mature students these days." He encouraged as he opened her car door for her and offered his hand to help her inside.

"I don't think so. It's not worth getting my hopes up for nothing." Belle discouraged herself, whilst giving him a lopsided look and placing her hand into the awaiting palm of his hand.

"If it's your dream to go back, then don't let your fear stop you." He urged, caressing his thumb over the back of her hand.

Her other hand came to rest on top of the door as she contradicted him. "Not fear, Mr Gold. Reality, reality is what stops me going back. We can't always live in our dreams."

Belle began to stoop in height, preparing to get into the car, but quickly halted when he clamped his hand down on top of hers, resting on the frame of the car door. "But dreams can become reality, if you really want them to."

"It doesn't even matter what I really want, because I have people who count on me." Belle gave his hand a firm squeeze. "And it's like you said, think big or get stuck at the bottom, where I'm truly stuck. Which, I'm okay with, because I've got my dad and I've got my friends."

"You deserve so much more than what this town has to offer you." Adam professed to her.

She tried to smile and conceal the sad look on her face as she said. "Yeah, but right now, I'm not interested in what the town has to offer me. I'm more interested in getting back to the cabin, making a cup of tea, snuggling down in bed, and reading the last few chapters of my book."

"If that's what you wish." He held back on pushing his point any further and watched over her as she climbed into the car, giving him a quick smile after he'd closed her car door.

Outside of the woods, the night had yet to conquer the day, but the further they drove into the woods, the more prominent the headlights of the Cadillac became. It was close to ten o'clock, when Adam flicked up the turn signal and prepared to take the turning into the track road leading to the cabin. He glimpsed at Belle, sat quietly beside him. She hadn't said a word since she'd gotten into the car. Either lost deep in her thoughts, or daydreaming of what could've been, if her choices had been her own and decisions hadn't been forced upon her.

As he turned the steering wheel, crossing the road to make the turn, Adam desperately wished he could make it all better for her. Wipe out the past. Give her the future, which belonged to her and had been stolen from her. His brows pushed together at the strange thoughts. He'd never wanted to do such things for people before. This love he felt for Belle was so daunting at times, he couldn't grasp how deeply he felt for her. She made him want to do things like no other had before. Which was empowering, yet terrifying, all at the same time.

The Cadillac quietly purred as it rolled to a stop in front of the cabin. After smoothly moving the selector into park, Adam turned off the engine and got out of the car, to walk around the front of the car, this time, to reach Belle's door. Thankfully, she blessed him with a smile as he opened her car door, pocketed his car keys into his jacket pocket, and turned his hand over to offer it to her.

"Thank you for tonight." Belle expressed her gratitude as she pivoted on the leather seat and took his hand to help her step out of the car. "I really enjoyed myself."

He couldn't have stopped his smile, even if he had wanted to. "Good, I'm glad."

Sidestepping out of the way of the car door, she waited for him to close the door before she said. "I really do appreciate you letting me get to know you tonight. I could tell, there were some subjects that were a little uncomfortable for you, but you kept your promise."

"It…" His smile wavered for a second till he took a breath and let go of her hand, waving with his right hand for her to walk with him to the cabin, telling her. "Surprisingly, I found it quite easy to talk to you, Miss French, as the night went on."

As they stepped up onto the first stone step together, their shoulders bumped together, as Belle said. "Maybe, we can do it again some time." She gave him a nervous glance. "You know, like once we're back in town."

Waiting for her to take the next narrower step without him, he followed her up the next two steps and was confronted by Belle, when she swung around to say to him. "Not like a date, or anything." Her hands gestured nervously as she spoke. "You know, like… Two friends, going out to dinner, to catch up on each other's lives."

Adam opened his mouth to say something, but she quickly added, holding her hands up to him. "Nothing romantic! Purely platonic!"

With a grin, he exposed himself to her. "I'd like that."

"You would?" Belle questioned, doubting her ears.

"I would." His smile grew at the goofy look on her face, then he jutted his head towards the cabin. "Come on, I'll make you that tea you want for bed."

Swiftly moving inside, Adam turned on the lights, highlighting the different areas of the open plan with light, while he waltzed across to the kitchen, grabbed the kettle from its stand and filled it at the sink. He glanced over his shoulder, when he heard the front door close, and watched as Belle placed her hand on a support post for the walkway above and lifted a foot off the floor to remove her heel. Turning his gaze away, choosing not to get distracted, he shut off the water and moved the short distance back to put the kettle on its stand. Her feet padded up behind him on the wooden floor, whilst he pressed down the switch on the kettle and opened the cupboard in front of him, above the kettle, where the mugs Belle preferred were kept.

"What are you going to do with the rest of your evening?" She inquired.

Adam twisted at his hips to see her hop onto a stool at the kitchen island. "Check some things on my computer and answer some emails, probably." As he turned back to the counter, he used the motion to close the cupboard door and put the mug down on the counter. "And a nightcap before bed."

The kettle began to quietly rumble to a boil as Belle commented. "The usual, then."

"I'm afraid to tell you, Miss French, but I'm very much a creature of habit." He disclosed to her, pausing as he was about to pop the lid off the container labelled 'Tea', realising how true that statement would've been before this all began with Belle.

Routines had become a way of life for him. His day compacted down into a set of rules. Wake at six am, thirty-minute run on the treadmill, showered and groomed by seven, breakfast completed by quarter to eight. Make the drive to the shop in fifteen minutes and open at eight. The rest of his day was broken down into much of the same constraints, only deviating if work required it, or if his tenants tested his patience.

Obviously, with routines came control. Something Adam ensured he had in every aspect of his life. Control over people, situations, emotions had guaranteed him the outcomes he expected. Granted, along the road of his long life, things hadn't always worked out as he had expected. His love life took the brunt of those mistakes. It was why places like the Club had been his escape. A place where he could leave behind his routines and relax his impulse to control, and nourish his need to feel wanted, while compelling someone to jump off the precipice into the most intense orgasm they'd experienced.

"Oh, so you do this often?" Her inquiry interrupted his train of thought.

Seeing the metal container in his hands, Adam smirked and pulled off the lid via the small useless handle on the lid, and said, depositing a tea bag into her mug. "I would say so, seeing as making tea is a daily occurrence."

"No." She said with a chuckle, then sobered to ask him. "Do you often bring women here?"

He pushed the lid back into place and returned the container to the line-up, unable to stop himself from touching the other two containers, lining them perfectly against the wall. It was a simple question. One, which shouldn't have mattered to either of them. This wasn't a relationship. It was an arrangement. An offer to educate her, to enlighten her ignorant mind. Yet, the question was a tipping point – one answer made her special, the other implied she was common.

Placing his hands on the counter, steepling his fingers, he admitted what she was. "No, I've never brought anyone here."

The click of the kettle broke through the loud rumbling of the water boiling. Jumping into action, Adam poured some of the water into her awaiting mug and returned the kettle to its stand. He sauntered to the other end of the kitchen, his dress shoes clicking and clacking against the polished floor, carrying on as though what he had admitted, meant nothing to him. Opening the fridge door, he inclined himself into the cover of the door and took a moment to breathe as he claimed the carton of milk from the shelf, on the inside of the door. He avoided looking at her side of the kitchen as he walked back to where he'd been making her tea. Her eyes had followed him and were still on him, burning him with their unrelenting attention, whilst he finished making her tea for her.

"Here you go." Adam swiftly presented her with her mug of tea, placing it on the kitchen island in front of where her hands were clasped, and marched away quickly to the fridge, returning the milk.

Being so honest was a testament to how he felt about Belle, but it didn't make it any easier. At a controlled pace, Adam left the kitchen and took the longest route to his desk, veering around the back of the fireplace, detouring to the wall of photographs, coming out on the other side of the sunken living room area. Putting as much space between them as possible.

With a decisive tap at the spacebar of his laptop, Adam went through the door left of his desk and into his bedroom, and stripped himself of his suit jacket and hung it on the hanger he'd taken it from earlier. He came back out of his room to see the login screen ready for him on his laptop, but also saw Belle crossing back to the entryway, her mug in one hand, her heels hanging loosely down at her side from her other hand. As he pulled at the knot in his tie, loosening it enough to undo the collar of his shirt, and sat down at his desk, he wished he was following her up those stairs.

Every night, he dreamt about climbing those stairs and taking the walkway to her room. Silently, he'd enter her room and watch her sleep for a while, studying the beautiful contours of her face. He wouldn't be able to help himself. Every time he went to leave, he'd have to place one soft lingering kiss to her lips. And just like sleeping beauty, her blue eyes would spring open and he'd fall helplessly into her bed. The torment of waking to find himself in his own bed, alone, had fuelled part of his frustration earlier in the week.

Having her so close. Wanting her. Needing her. It was enough to drive any man insane.

Choosing to distract himself, Adam tapped his password into the laptop and loaded up his emails, extremely aware of Belle above him on the walkway, heading to her room. Once her door was closed, he put on his reading glasses, hunched over his desk and threw himself into sorting through the garbage in his inbox, and replied to those that required his immediate attention. Some of the emails were from Dove. One of which was information on Belle's father.

'Spending lots of cash around town. No rumours of winning any considerable amount of money. Have put feelers out to local money lenders, in case he has debt with one, which can be purchased. Hasn't been spending a lot of time at his shop. Very odd behaviour.'

Puzzled, he scratched at his chin as he opened the link to his home computer and surfed through his files for Maurice French's. Compared to most of the residents in Storybrooke, Maurice was in the top five for the most difficult and least likely to pay his debts back. Things had been fine, when the family had first moved to town. Belle's mother had kept on top of things, much like her daughter did. Payment had always been on time, and if they'd had a good month at the shop, her mother would pay a little extra to build a buffer for the months, when the shop grew naturally quiet. But Maurice, he had never thought like that. Cared more about getting the money in his pocket, so he could drink it or gamble it away. Putting the burden on Belle to keep the roof over their heads. With a heavy sigh, Adam couldn't find anything to irritate her father with and closed the connection to his home computer.

Adam was disappointed as he grabbed the printouts he'd done earlier in the day, and sat back to go through the listings of an auction he planned to attend next week. Crossing his legs, he used his thigh to prop up the stack of papers as he read through the details for a late nineteenth century grandfather's clock. It was an interesting piece. Not really worth any value. Really, it was a surprise, it had been entered into the auction.

Flicking the page up to prop it against his stomach, Adam began reading the details for a nineteen-twenties French gold necklace, starting price yet to be determined, when he heard a quiet creek above his head. His eyes shot up to her open bedroom door. There was a creak from the stairs. He returned to reading about the gold necklace, in time with Belle appearing in the entryway.

"You do realise, it's nearly midnight."

Adam didn't look at her, simply lifted the page to rest against the other page, and raised an eyebrow at the cheap price they had listed, for a George II mahogany bureau bookcase. "No rest for the wicked."

"Do you always work so late?" She asked, with her footsteps padding across the wooden floor towards his desk.

"When it's needed." He sounded distracted and he was, the bureau was significantly under-priced.

"Isn't that what you pay Trev for? To take care of things, so you don't have to do things like this?" Belle questioned as she strolled round the back of his chair, heading to the bookshelves behind him.

"Doesn't mean, I don't have things to do." He told her, while he sat forward to grab his pen from the desk and marked the top right corner with a rough looking star.

Somewhere behind him, she asked. "Do you think you're going to be much longer?"

His brow scrunched at her question, but he carried on writing his estimated value for the bureau in the margin. "If the lights are disturbing you, you know you can just turn off the upper floor."

"No, they're not bothering me. Just curious." She said, her voice coming from the right behind him.

Picking up the page with the details for the bureau, Adam moved them onto his desk and started to read on the next page. A selection of miniatures. Curling his lip up at them, he skipped them, turning to the next page, resting another piece of paper against his chest. The picture of the eightieth century mahogany leather armchair caught his eye until a flutter of white silk passed by him, taking his full attention away from the picture. Belle sat onto the edge of his desk, giving him a tight nervous smile. Actually, looking at her, for the first time since she came downstairs, he recognised the silk dressing gown she'd been wearing, when he'd gone to her house looking for her father. The same one, she'd been wearing, when he'd attempted to have sex with her in the kitchen, in the house she shared with her father. The one, which slipped into his dreams sometimes, or into his fantasies, when he had no choice but to masturbate, needing to relieve the tension she created.

"I was wondering…" Belle pressed her lips together, anxious about what she was going to say. "You said, I could have anything my heart desires this weekend, while I'm here with you."

He angled his head down and regarded her over the rims of his glasses. "Yes, I did."

Pushing herself away from his desk, she bent herself at her hips, bringing herself down to his height in the chair, and said as her hands came up to hold either side of his face. "Then this is what I want."

The back of his head hit the back of the chair as Belle took the biggest leap of faith and locked her lips with his, kissing him so hard, it was their first and their last kiss, all squeezed into one. Her fingers clawed her nails into the sides of his head, taking possession of him. The force in which she kissed him, pressed his lips painfully into his teeth, making it impossible for him to return her kiss. So instead, he yielded to her and remained still, greedily savouring every second she kissed him.

After what felt like eternity, Belle broke the kiss and pulled back from him, just enough, so she could see the whole of his face. In turn, she allowed him to see everything he needed to know – the colouring of her cheeks, the fullness of her lips, her dilated pupils. She wanted more than just a kiss from him.

Adam grabbed the front of her dressing gown, stopping her withdrawal, and unfolded his legs, causing the stack of papers to fall and scatter around their feet. Catching one of her hands, he used that and the hold on her gown to direct her to come back to him. Her knees bumped into his, but he kept pulling, giving her no choice but to spread her legs and straddle his legs. He let go of her hand to rip off his reading glasses, and tossed them in the general direction of his desk, without a care as to whether they got there or not. Pulling down on her gown, Belle followed his lead and sat down onto his lap. As he wrapped his arm around the back of her, splaying his hand across the soft silk expanse of her dressing gown, he let go of the front of her gown and smoothed his hand up the front of her chest, progressing up to her neck.

"You want a lot more than just a kiss." Adam remarked, letting his hand slowly trail back down from her neck.

She rocked her hips, rubbing the hard bulge underneath her, causing both of them to moan. "The same could be said about you."

His fingers stroked back one side of her dressing gown, opening it out to reveal the swell of her left breast. "There's no need to say it, dearie. I would think it's quite evident," He rocked his hips, grinding himself into her centre. "What exactly I want."

Her hands grabbed at his shoulders and at his shirt, bunching and creasing the material, as she spied down at him, biting her lower lip. Taking in a controlled breath, Adam glided his hand across her chest, dipping his fingers into the valley between her breasts, to push back the other side of her gown, uncovering more of her breasts to him. He leant forward and pressed a light kiss to her exposed chest, whilst he wrapped his arm around her, trapping her inside of his embrace. Belle leant back, angling her head down to watch him, as he placed another random kiss on her chest.

The tightness of his shirt eased before she felt her fingers delve into his hair, cradling the back of his head. As he crooked his neck to place another kiss between her breasts, his hands slid down her back till they came to the curve of her ass, which he gave a hard squeeze, making her push her chest out to him. With her being closer, he licked and nipped at the side of her right breast, then did the same to her left, while her fingers clenched at his hair.

"Are you sure?" Adam queried as he tilted back his head to look her in the eye. "That this is what you want?"

The pain in his head lessened before her hands moved to frame his face. "More than anything."

A sly smile gradually grew on the left side of his face, as his right hand snaked around her and reached up to capture the back of her head, drawing her down so he could claim her lips. Her soft lips were pliable, moulding and moving eagerly with his own. And implored him to never stop, by opening her mouth to him. Wanting him to deepen their kiss, which he greedily obliged.