He made himself busy downstairs, just as he always would have, hoping the noise wouldn't wake her, but at the same time hoping it might so they could spend a few moments together before he had to go. He would have loved to make her breakfast himself, but he supposed that she could do it when she got hungry or got out of bed, whenever that might be. As far as he was concerned, what he owned was hers. She was no stranger to a kitchen after all and free to help herself when…

He turned to the sink to fetch a coffee cup and was suddenly confronted with a memory from the night before. Not a pleasant one upstairs, but rather one that had him standing nearly in this exact position. It was the way she'd reacted to the garbage disposal last night when he'd turned it on, the fear in her eyes before she understood what it was and how it worked.

She was no stranger to a kitchen in their land. But here? From the way she'd reacted, he couldn't assume anything here was familiar to her. So what could he do? If she wasn't going to wake up before he left, how would she eat? This was the one place that she could start a fire and hurt herself if she didn't know what she was doing. He couldn't let that happen. He'd promised to keep her safe, which included dangers inside the home just as well as outside.

Plums! She liked plums, he thought, she'd served them often enough in the Dark Castle, and he had some around that were recently bought. He pulled a few out and began cutting them up for her and adding them to a bowl. What else? Plums were not a filling breakfast, not enough to get her through to lunch at least. What else would work? He didn't have cereal, she wouldn't understand the concept of a microwave, and he'd made eggs for her last night. Toast, he thought, glancing at the toaster next to the bread. It would be new, but it was easy and safe enough to work. He'd leave her a note, some simple instructions. She was smart; she could figure out toast and tea. In fact, it might be a good place for her to start.

He wandered out to the hallway to grab a bit of paper and a pen so he could-

He froze in the middle of his task. Something had caught his attention, something that had caught his attention since he'd first heard Emma Swan's name. The basement door. The door he'd never been able to get into, the one that Mr. Gold's memories told him had always been "stuck." He'd tried the night he met Emma to open it. It hadn't budged. But with magic here now, things were different, and he wondered…

He drew closer to the door. His keys were still at the front of his house, but Mr. Gold had always kept a spare in the bookshelf, in between the pages of the Iliad. He gave the book a shake, and the metal key dropped into his hands. He put the key in the lock and turned until he heard the predictable snick. That wasn't the difficult part. He'd always been able to unlock it, but every time he'd put his hand to the knob, turned and yanked, he'd never been able to-

It opened.

The basement door opened for the first time since he'd been in Storybrooke and what came out was a small rush of stale air and something else, a familiar smell.

Magic.

His magic.

Timidly he opened the door and looked down the dusty wooden stairs. Nothing out of the ordinary. But when he got to the bottom of the stairs and turned on the light…he almost cried.

It was his tower. Well, maybe not his tower exactly, but it was his workspace. There was his worktable, empty beakers and flasks that he'd once used to craft his potions and spells. Against one wall was the cabinet where he'd bottled rare potions that were creations of his own. It was the same cabinet he'd once set the True Love potion to steep in. And that wasn't all. His spinning wheel was there. Not the one in his shop or his childhood Saxony Wheel that sat upstairs as a decoration. This was his wheel, one of his aunt's Great Wheels. The one he'd always used to make gold with. He put his hand on it, felt the old delicate wood against his hand, then gave the wheel a slight spin. Just like new. It moved as it had the last day he'd used it, right before he'd been imprisoned. With another spin, he checked the mechanisms. All clean, all still working as if he'd never left. It was a bit dusty perhaps, but he felt a tear gather in his eye and gave a loyal pat to his trusty machine. Finally, he turned to the walls. Bookshelves lined the sides of the basement as if it were a library, but when he stepped closer to identify the titles, he saw that they were magical books he'd once marked with his own blood, books he'd wanted to have here when the Curse broke. Including…

He growled. Two books on his mother that had survived his reign of terror. Without thinking about it, he used his magic to make a hole in the masonry and hid them in the wall so that he didn't have to see them. Out of sight, out of mind. This place felt holy and unblemished despite the work he'd done in his tower, despite the work he suspected he was going to have to do here. He didn't want to mar it with memories of his mother. Why he'd kept the two books to begin with was a bit of a mystery. Perhaps later, he'd burn them.

From somewhere upstairs, he heard a clock chime. It was late. He was late. Though he suspected that no one would care given the circumstances, he needed to be in town. He needed to see what was happening, how people were coping with their memories. He needed to make sure Belle was provided for before he left. So as much as he would have loved to sit at his wheel and spin some gold just for old time's sake, he knew he had to go. There would be time to explore, and to spin, later.

Upstairs he locked the door behind him and hid the key back inside the Iliad. And then, when he remembered Belle upstairs and her curiosity, he used his magic to place a protection spell on it, one that would admit him and only him when the handle was touched. Anyone else who tried would find the door stuck just as he had during the Curse. It was for the best. He hadn't had time to go through everything down there, but if the books he'd seen were any indication, he didn't want the wrong person finding them and certainly not Belle.

With her in mind, he returned to his initial task. He picked up the paper and pen he'd originally gone into the hallway for and returned to the kitchen. Tea and toast. She could do that. He jotted down a few instructions, a few thoughts and reassurances; he told her he loved her once more because he couldn't wait until they were together again for her to hear it, then glanced at the clock. He really wanted to go. It was a good thing he'd come up with this plan because there hadn't even been a peep from upstairs. That was fine. He set the note on the table, gathered his keys, and glanced up the stairs to his bedroom door.

Maybe just one more look, just one more peek to be sure she was okay, and then he'd be satisfied. Then he could make it until he came home to see her at lunch.

He quietly turned the knob and took a glance in, expecting to find her laying there sleeping as he'd left her, but instead, he found her awake! Through the crack in the door, he could see her pushed up on her elbows and the sheet pulled against her chest as she looked around the room. He smiled when they locked eyes.

"Hey," he whispered, suddenly ecstatic he'd returned before leaving.

But she didn't look excited. Instead of smiling and greeting him back, she let all the air out of her lungs in a puff and let herself fall back against the mattress with a strange noise. She immediately put her hands over her face as though she was upset. With him? With this? With what they'd done?

"Belle?" he strode toward her as panic set in. Panic briefly gave way to thrill as he felt his body press against hers, even if it was just hip to hip. He imagined it would take some time before that reaction dulled, if ever. "Are you all right?"

She moved her fingers and looked through them at him as he came to rest on the edge of the mattress, then nodded and allowed him to pull her hand away from her mouth. He touched her face, moving the hair out of her eyes to examine her. Her heart was racing. Had she had another nightmare when he'd left?

"I woke up, and you were gone, I…I was worried," she finished with a sigh as if she were disappointed in herself.

Pain spread through his heart. She'd worried because he wasn't there. He shouldn't have left. He knew it. He should have stayed there with her. He should have waited until she woke up before he'd gone, he should have told her-

"What time is it?" she asked suddenly, breaking off his silent chastisements.

"Early," he muttered, hovering over her and bracing himself with another arm on the other side of her. Ballgown, plain dress, or a sheer sheet that left nothing to the imagination, as if he needed to wonder after last night, he couldn't seem to stop himself from noticing her, even when he wanted to.

"I'm so sorry," he muttered, remembering that he wasn't supposed to be looking at her body, wasn't supposed to be making her feel self-conscious, he was supposed to feel bad for leaving her to worry and panic, he was supposed to explain. "I have to be in town early, and you were sleeping soundly. I didn't want to wake you. I was just coming to give you a final glance before I left for town."

"Town?!"

"To open the shop," he clarified.

She nodded and moved to sit up. "I'll get dressed and come with you."

"No, no," he managed to push her back against the mattress gently, trying not to reveal how nervous he was by the very suggestion. Town? Her? Did she not remember what happened the last time she was in town? He wasn't going to lose her again; he couldn't lose her again by any other force other than her own. He wanted her to stay here, where he knew she'd be safe. But she was a brave person, no fear. How was he supposed to convince her to remain in hiding for her own good?

"Stay here," he insisted, Regina's face popping back into his mind. "There is no telling where Regina is lurking about, and it'll be much safer for you in the house."

"I want to come with you," she insisted, shaking her head slightly.

She pulled a hand free and reached up to run her fingers through his hair. It was such an easy touch it fascinated him. Given so freely, so naturally. And she was so tempting, she was so intoxicating, it would have been so simple to lose himself in that touch, to give into her. Fighting her was difficult.

"I want to see the town," she informed him, "I want to help."

Her words stirred him from the stupor her touch put him in. Town? No! Certainly not! Help? Why would she? She didn't understand. She wouldn't understand. Baelfire was his fight, his fault, not hers. If it weren't for Baelfire, he'd be sleeping the day away with her, not braving the town where anything could happen. He couldn't risk it.

"The town is not safe at the moment," he informed her. "People are confused, and they are out for blood. This is really the safest place in the world right now." Or at least he'd make it that way before he left. When he'd set the spell over the basement, his magic had come back almost right away, unlike last night. He was getting strong again. Before he left, he could easily place a spell on the house to keep her safe. He could already feel that the one he'd placed on her yesterday to make her difficult to track by magic was still intact.

He saw it then. Her resolve wavered, her shoulders sank into the mattress, and her lids get heavy again. Maybe he hadn't needed to convince her after all. Maybe he just needed to play off her sleep. She was tired, and that much was obvious.

"Stay here, Sweetheart," he sighed happily, "Rest. Go back to sleep, and I'll be home again soon. You have my word."

He watched as she melted into the bed, he wanted to touch her, to be with her for the day, but instead, he reached out and tucked the sheet covering her around her body, then piled the blankets on top of her to replace the heat that he'd taken from her when he'd left. Finally, he patted the pillow, softening, fluffing it beneath her head, making her as comfortable as he could. She'd certainly, in his opinion, been less than comfortable than she deserved in her life. She deserved some pampering, and he wanted to be the one to do it for her.

But instead of going to sleep, she gave a nod suddenly and freed the arm he'd tucked away to touch his cheek again. Was it just him? Or were sparks coming off of him whenever she touched him.

"When the town is calmer?" she asked suddenly.

His heart flipped over as he covered the hand on his cheek with his own. She was still asking to go to town. He didn't really expect her to give in so easily, but he also wasn't prepared for her to fight so hard for this. Calmer? That was the keyword. And he smiled as he thought through what that word meant and could mean. What was calm after all? It could take many, many, long weeks before it was "calm" by his standards. That bought him some time.

"When the town is put back together, less chaotic, we'll see every inch of it together," he confirmed because he sure as hell wasn't going to let her see it on her own and risk her safety.

She smiled at the news, her lids slowly closing again. She'd be asleep before he left the room, most certainly. So he leaned down to kiss her once again as he settled her hand over her chest for her. Before he left, he pulled the comforter over her and watched the corners of her mouth tip up in a smile before she shimmied into a comfortable position.

"I'll be back in a few hours for lunch," he promised her, "go back to sleep, my darling, Belle." He stroked her cheek with his thumb and kissed her forehead one last time. "I love you," he muttered, noting that when he pulled away, she was already asleep.

So, if we're going to be lingering in the 2x01-2x04 section for some time, other than Belle chapters, what on earth will there be to read? Chapters like this. Set-up chapters. Chapters that might not have much use in the present story or for the current goings-on but will later down the road. Most obviously, in this chapter, you have Rumple discovering that he has access to his basement again. That's going to be important later in this fiction. But also, while he's exploring the basement, he finds two books about his mother and places them in the wall, confused as to why he kept them in the first place. Moments Readers might remember what this sets up. For those of you who don't know, that's for a fiction that is years down the line when we get to season 6. So, sometimes the setup we encounter is for Rumple; sometimes, it's going to be for other characters. That's one of the things that makes this section fun, you'll see characters you probably expect to see, and then other times, you'll find characters and chapters you never knew you needed an explanation for!

Thank you, Alarda, Grace5231973, and Spunkymouse, for your reviews on the last chapter. I'm so happy to hear that you are totally okay for all the fluff coming your way! I hope this chapter got you off to a good start with that! Now, interestingly enough, the letter in this chapter is completely canon. We've already seen one of these letters in TDOC: The Dark Curse, but...reminder. Before season 2, there was an OUAT Facebook game, and the prizes for advancing in the game were letters the characters wrote to one another. The letters were deemed canon by A&E. The first one they posted by Rumple to Belle was...not good. It was clear she had just left, and he was sad and angry and...it was ugly. You can read it in TDOC: The Dark Curse, Chapter 178: A Resolute Determination. The letter got so much criticism that it was pulled down and replaced with a different letter. One that was kinder and sweeter. It's the one that is mentioned above. I tried to find a way to include exactly what the letter says but never really found a good way to do it, so I left only the hints. If you'd like to read it in full, then you can find it in Moments Seen and Unseen, Chapter 15: Standing on Her Own. It really is charming, and it's important because that letter is really what I base Belle and her current knowledge of the world on. In it, he has to describe the fridge and the toaster in the most rudimentary of ways. It was always the big hint that whatever personality or memories she was given, knowing how to survive in the modern-day isn't something she knows how to do. But what she learns over this 2x01-2x04 section...it was a lot of fun to write! Peace and Happy Reading!