He could see why some men were better with sex than without. He'd never really experienced good sex in his life before Belle, to compare himself to or help determine whether he was better with or without it. Now he did. After having it at his fingertips with her for weeks, and not going for more than a week without, tonight had finally given him a fair and accurate comparison of himself with and without sex and his own conclusion…he was better with it.

He'd been so tense, so wound up. Everything in him for the last week had been work, move, search, go, do! If he wasn't working on something constantly then he was antsy and fidgety, cranky even. And now, here, finally, he felt no urge from his body to get up, no instinct to move from this spot where they lay in her bed, holding each other. Initially, he'd felt he had to get up and go, grant her the privacy she'd made it clear she wanted when she left. But then she'd kissed him, and settled in beside him as she always had before she'd gone, and he'd been so swept up in the familiar motions of moving a hand over her that he couldn't bring himself to move. And now…

He was so damn relaxed! Like every care and every worry he'd had in this week had just floated away and left the pair of them alone for the evening. He didn't care if he went home or not tonight. She was home. Wherever she was, he was supposed to be. And it felt right. For the first time in his long damn life, it all felt right. Even if he didn't know what "it" was.

What the hell had happened tonight? Between them? Desperation, obviously. Perhaps lots and lots of desperation from two people who were meant to be together but had been denied for so long. The sex had been fast, and desperate, and insistent and so far from their usual bouts of lovemaking, it almost left him feeling ashamed that he'd popped so fast. But she'd been the same way. That was what told him it was both their fault.

He could tell himself that he was waiting for her, that she'd wanted space and he'd sought to give it to her from a distance, but looking back he could see the lifesaver she'd thrown him that day when he'd told her about Bae, the invitation to ask her for a hamburger. He could name a dozen times in the last week he could have done just that. But he hadn't. He'd kept his distance. She hadn't initiated anything. But he hadn't either. And the result was tonight. Two people, madly in love with each other, and unable to court because they just couldn't stay away. Not that he thought it was a bad thing from where he stood…or lay.

He loved this, had missed it far more than he'd ever imagined or admitted even to himself. There was something so beautifully simple about it; laying naked in bed with her pressed up against his side, body spent, muscles relaxed. Her thumb kept making idle strokes where it rested over his ribs, letting him know that she was still awake. It moved in time to his breath as if she were trying to comfort him. It was lovely, no matter how wrong it was. She was the one who had been attacked, chained up, and locked in her own library by a werewolf she considered a friend. Even if she didn't insist that Ruby had done it to protect her, she should be the one in need of comfort from him right now, not the other way around.

He didn't deserve little motions like that thumb, didn't deserve to be here. She'd agree if she only knew what he'd already done, what he was already plotting.

He hadn't lied to her, but he certainly hadn't obeyed her wishes either. When they'd been icing her wrist he'd pushed magic into her, healing magic, just a little. It wasn't enough to make the injury go away, she would have noticed that. No, he applied just enough to take the edge off it, to make it a bit more comfortable. And when she was asleep tonight, he was already planning on doing it again. He wasn't going to heal it, not the entire way. His goal was only to speed up the healing process so that she was better within a day or so and the bruises wouldn't bother her as much. Doing it slowly meant that she wouldn't notice that he had done it and she'd be feeling better faster. There was no downside, just like when he'd done it with Baelfire all those years ago.

He smirked thinking back on that memory, of the way he'd insisted a bandage would be fine for his injuries and told him not to use his magic just as she'd insisted ice would be a better alternative than a healed wrist. They were so much alike, his son and his Belle. When he found him and brought him back here, he could only imagine the hell the two would raise if Bae gave her a chance and they got along.

There were a lot of "if's" in that assumption. If Bae could give the woman he loved a chance, if they got along, if he found him…if he brought him back. He hadn't located him yet. He didn't know what he was going out into the world to find. Would his son be a boy of fourteen as he remembered him? Or would he be old, wheelchair-bound, decrepit? He would take care of him either way, but…an old fear floated to the surface of his mind, an image he'd once crafted and quickly dismissed after acquiring the Seer's gift. It was an image of a grave. He held Belle closer on instinct, focused on the movement of her thumb, and tried to banish that image. Bae may be old when he met him, but he wouldn't be dead. The Seer had promised he'd see him again. He had to hold onto that, just as he found himself clinging to the woman gently stroking his side.

Because he needed this. He needed more moments like this. He needed her in his life. Just as he needed Baelfire. Why couldn't she have been born centuries ago? Why did he have to go through all of this before he'd found her? What if she'd been in that village? If she'd married him, if Baelfire was their son? It certainly would have made more sense than he and Milah. Bae reminded him so much more of Belle than of his wife or even himself.

"I think you would have liked him…" he mused to himself, only to realize, too late, the words had come out before he'd given them permission. He swallowed nervously. He'd said the words so quietly that he wasn't even sure he'd said them out loud.

And then she shifted slightly in his arms and mumbled "who?"

She was tired, her voice was quiet and exhausted. It wasn't just him feeling relaxed, she was feeling it too, trying to stay up, to stay with him as long as she could. Instinct told him to let her go to sleep. To quietly hush her, say that it was nothing, and tell her to go to sleep. But answers like that had led to them being in this little room and not the one they'd shared at home in the first place. Despite the voice in his head that screamed at him not to, he found himself opening his mouth again, muttering a single word that he knew would alter this moment

"Bae."

He didn't go on. He didn't say or do anything more. It was up to her. He'd laid the name out before them, what happened with it was her decision. Would she ignore it and pretend to have been sleeping? Would she say she didn't want to talk about it? He watched her carefully. Still, as she was, tired as she was, her eyes were suddenly wide open, staring across the room as if considering the choices she had. Was she angry he'd brought it up again? Was she upset?

Finally, she turned to glance up at him, she still didn't say anything but there was an intense curiosity in her eyes that demanded more from him, that demanded a truthful explanation.

"He was brave," he muttered quickly. "Far more of a man at thirteen than I ever was. He always wanted to do the right thing, he could see the value in others, and in the world around him. He was a lot like you."

His heart was racing. He'd told others about Bae, maybe not by name, but he'd allowed bits and pieces of him to be uncovered if it was opportune. But this was the first time he'd told another soul about Bae. About who he was and what he was like. It was the first time he realized he'd ever known someone who reminded him of his son. What would she think about that?

He watched her, timidly, wondering what she'd say. His heart fell when she picked herself up. For a moment he expected her to get up and leave him there alone with his memories. To say that was nice but maybe he should go and they could talk about it another time. To say that she loved him, but Baelfire was his problem, not hers. She had every right to after all! But instead, she moved.

She lay beside him on her stomach and swallowed. "I'm sure he still does," she assured him.

She was looking at him, watching him, an encouraging curious look that told him she expected him to continue the conversation. Conversation: two or more human beings exchanging sentences. She wasn't running. She wasn't leaving. He'd taken another step. She'd taken one too. Was this what it was like to have a relationship with another human being?

He'd had to replay the words over in his head, the ones that he'd said, just to make sense of her comment. She'd caught something he hadn't. He'd accidentally referred to his son in the past tense. He knew better. Their reunion was predicted, prophesied, but he knew that prophecies didn't always work out the way they were expected. It hadn't stopped him from wondering, from fearing that someday, all he'd be reunited with were some dried bones. Bae had come to a land without magic, he'd existed on magic for centuries. He'd promised himself that he'd never think it or allow himself to imagine it. He'd failed his son once, letting him die before he got to him wasn't an option. But he supposed it had seeped into him. She'd caught onto it. But could he bear to say it out loud, to admit it to her? He could keep those thoughts in check. What if she told him something he didn't want to hear?

"All these years," he whispered, hoping he wasn't shaking as he felt he had, "everything I've done, everything I haven't done, has all been to find him," he glanced over at her. She wasn't just hearing his words. He could tell that she was listening. That she understood that Bae was the reason he'd let her go in the first place, the reason he hadn't told her about magic weeks ago. But she didn't seem angry. She didn't seem upset. She seemed…pensive. Like she was taking it in and understanding everything. So would she understand, could she contemplate what he'd never wanted to? "I can't help but wonder if it's all been for naught, if I failed long before I even got the chance to try."

"You won't fail," she insisted, shaking her head in perfect adamant denial.

"You don't know that."

"I know you," she responded immediately. "I don't need to see the future to see the sacrifices that you've made for your son. You'll find him, I know you will. You're a good man, Rumpelstiltskin and a good father."

Her words nearly brought tears to his eyes. He wanted to hear words like that, needed to hear words like that. With that tone. Absolute certainty. There was not a doubt in her mind that what she'd said was true. He wished he had the same faith in that. But one person saying one good thing didn't negate centuries of actions proving the opposite.

"I can think of at least one person who would disagree with you."

He could think of multiple people he'd scorned that would disagree with her, in fact. But there was really one that he cared about in this world. They could all go to hell so long as he had Baelfire, and it had been his actions, his lack of goodness on both counts of being a man and a father that had led to that.

"The happiest moment of my life was when his mother placed him in my arms," he admitted, the words falling from his mouth while the scene repeated itself over and over again in his mind. He'd been so determined then, so certain that he really was good, but as the scene changed as the world changed and he saw Bae disappear down that portal, he knew that was the only moment of failure that really counted. "And the worst was when I broke our deal and let go."

"Baelfire…Baelfire will see that," she cut in suddenly with a shake of his hand, bringing him back to the present with her, saving him from the terrible repetition of his past once more. There it was again. That same encouraging certainty. "You'll fix this," she muttered next to him. "Do you, uh, do you think you can break it? This curse I mean?"

He glanced down at her and tried not to balk at her words. Her?! Encouraging him to use magic? To break the spell? Or just encouraging him to find Baelfire? It was one or the other. And he knew she didn't want him for magic. So that only left the option of wanting it for him as a father. It didn't make sense, but logic dictated it. Break the curse? Find Bae? It might be easier than that. Could she accept the sorcerer he'd become in centuries as well? The Dark One was part of him, whether he liked it or not. Would she like it?

"Perhaps," he answered, "but I don't think that I have to."

"What do you mean?"

"Magic and spells, curses even, are really not that different from deals," he explained quietly, trying to keep their conversation casual, as it if would desensitize her to the topic. "Magic isn't always perfect, there are always flaws, loopholes. Simply find the weakest point and then look for a way to exploit it, the way to get what you want while still upholding your end. That is how you get the better half of the deal."

She didn't look pleased with the answer, with the truth of knowing how he'd conducted his business all those years. But she didn't move away from him either. Progress?

"And, uh, what-what's the weakness in this curse?"

He tapped his fingers against the side of his head. "Memories," he informed her, "I don't have to break the curse I just have to figure out how to get across the town line with my memories intact. It's a far easier and less time-consuming task, trust me."

She smiled! She actually smiled, like she believed him like she did trust him. She still trusted him? She still loved him?! After all that he'd done? Really? That was possible?

"You'll figure it out," she nodded certainly, "you'll cross the town line, you'll find Baelfire…"

"And what?" he burst out. He'd never really gotten that far in his plans, hadn't gotten passed seeing Baelfire and begging for forgiveness. What if he refused to see him? What if he was dead? What if he didn't forgive him for that terrible thing he'd done years ago?! Then what? "We'll all live happily ever after?"

"No, there'll probably be another curse or a Yaoguai standing in our way!"

He snorted at her remark, all the while rejoicing. It wasn't just youthful ignorance. Youthful ignorance would have ended rose colored. She knew better than to expect that. Which could only mean that she really, really, did believe what she was saying. Suddenly a new, terrifying though popped into his head. What if he let her down?

"But you more than anyone should understand the value of taking things one step at a time. Figure out how to cross the town line and find your son," she went on, "we'll worry about what comes next when we face it."

"We." Together? The pair of them? It wasn't her problem, it was his. But…she was carrying it as if it was hers. Theirs? Was it his imagination, or did he suddenly feel…lighter? Was that what it felt like to have trust? To have…help?

Before he could say another word, she pushed herself up and kissed him. A small chaste one, not like they'd been doing earlier, not like what had led to…damn he still hadn't figured out what the hell they'd done was! Somehow it didn't matter. Next to the conversation they'd just had, it seemed less important…but also better somehow. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been this confused. He couldn't remember the last time he hadn't been able to figure out-

"Rest Rumple," she ordered, pressing her lips to his forehead erasing the thoughts he'd just been trying to sort through. "Go to sleep."

He held her tight against his chest, tighter than he had before. He'd let go once before, he wouldn't make that mistake again. For the first time since she'd left, sleep found him.

Make-up sex, Rumple. Admittedly my own experience here is extremely lacking but I'm pretty sure what happened was "make-up sex". And yes, because of that fact this chapter was a lot more sex-heavy than I usually like to be, but I found it to be a really important chapter for Rumple's character and for the Rumbelle relationship. But Rumple, if you'll recall, a few chapters back in Plans on Top of Plans I told you that there was a chapter coming that was the counter to it. This is that chapter. In Plans on Top of Plans Rumple is just as he described in the beginning, tense, on the go, busy. He's jumping from one thing to another all in an effort to keep going. It's like his problem with Baelfire is smothering him. In this chapter, he finds himself totally at ease, all those feelings of "go" and "move" are gone, and it leads him to this great reflection that he needs Belle because she really does make him a better person.

Many, many thanks to Grace5231973 for her review of the last chapter. I am hoping you'll enjoy this chapter from Rumple's perspective just as much as it was enjoyed from Belle's perspective. It really is a very key moment of their relationship that I felt we never got the opportunity to see. And I love seeing the ways that it was similar for both of them and the ways that it was different to them. There's still one more chapter in the 2x07 section, and it's coming at you next! Peace and Happy Reading!