V

***Don't You Know How to Knock?***

"Stop fidgeting! You're going to make me poke you with the pins, dearie," he scolded gently as he knelt at her feet. She was standing on a sturdy wooden platform he'd conjured – much like the one his spinning wheel sat upon in the Great Hall. Now they just so happened to be in her library. They'd been spending more and more time there in the past week. She'd taken to reading aloud to him while he worked on her ball gown. The ball was scheduled for the following weekend, and he had no time to lose.

"I'm not, Rumpel."

"Youf are toof," he mumbled around a mouthful of pins. He nearly swallowed said pins when her fingers delved into the hair at his crown. Instead he pricked his finger, cursing softly. Removing the pins from between his lips, he glared up at her. "That's distracting, Belle."

Her nose wrinkled playfully as she looked down at him. "Sorry. You were looking a wee bit too pensive. It's not good when you put on your plotting face."

"Humph. Now hold still." He went back to pinning and measuring her long skirts with practiced ease. She was such a mystery, his Belle. In the last week, he'd done everything he could to be kinder, gentler, to treat her like the lady she was. He helped her prepare their meals in the evenings, and they'd eat … together … at the cozy little table in the kitchen next to the hearth. He didn't miss the behemoth in the dining room. It was more for show anyway. They took long walks in the garden, tea in the hall, and played chess every night. She'd watched him make a pattern for her ball gown – after he'd taken a dozen measurements - cut it out and begin to pin it. And she'd gotten her wish, spending all the time with him which she craved while he began to sew.

Slowly, he began to open up to her, sharing his long life with her. She was a captive audience, even going so far as to take notes for a journal she wished to keep. For Baelfire, she claimed. His son needed to know some of the things his father had done over three centuries of searching, after all. He was content, if not happy. He had this blossoming relationship with Belle, and he was confident he was one step closer to reuniting with his son. Only one thing left him troubled in the wee hours of the morning when his beloved slept, and he was left to his own devices. She refused to allow him to kiss her.

Was she just wanting to take things slow, or could she just not bring herself to get that close to the beast? No, he was being silly. She didn't hesitate to kiss his cheek or the corner of his mouth before she retired in the evening. Even times when he'd shared something particularly amusing or sad, she'd show her affection with a kiss. But it was her lips on his which he craved so desperately. He wanted to feel those petal soft lips brushing over his, delight in tracing them with his tongue before delving inside to taste her. He longed to feel her tongue wrap about his own, to duel for dominance, to flick sensually over the sensitive roof of his mouth. He needed to kiss her before he went mad.

His body tightened with desire, and he shifted to relieve the pressure in his groin. Unfortunately, he overbalanced and fell back onto his arse. He cursed as the pins fell from his lips, one jabbing him sharply in his upper thigh. Another inch …

"Oh, Rum!" she shrieked, lifting the heavy skirt to step down from her pedestal.

"Don't move!" he roared, regretting his tone when she looked taken aback. "I'm sorry. I'm almost done, dearie, and I don't want you dislodging too many of the pins with excessive movement."

"Are you alright?" she asked, trying to remain as still as possible. Her hands fisted at her sides as he regained his previous position on his knees, and she had to fight to keep from reaching for him.

"Fine, fine," he grumbled. "This should be the last time I have to adjust the hem. Then I just have to add the lace." The lace she'd ripped off yesterday when she'd tripped over the too long hem. If he hadn't been so worried about some dandy getting a glimpse of her perfect ankles ... He ignored his wayward thoughts and concentrated on his task, his knees creaking as he pushed himself up from the floor to stand before her. When complete, the hem should lay just above the tops of her strappy heels and she'd be able to have no trouble keeping her footing.

"All done?" she asked, and he couldn't help but notice the note of hope in her voice. He felt a tad guilty keeping her up there so long, knowing how difficult it was for her to be so still without a book in her hand. And considering it was nearly time for luncheon, she was probably hungry, too. Way to go with the wooing, he groaned inwardly.

"I believe so."

"Are you sure you don't need more measurements with my corset on?" she asked. She hated to wear it when she was working in the castle – anytime for that matter – because it constricted her movements, but she refused to go to the ball without it.

Rumpelstiltskin could feel the heat rise up his neck. He felt slightly uncomfortable talking about women's undergarments with his little dearie, as it conjured thoughts of taking them off of her and … did he really want to go there and possibly show her what a beast he could really be? The frozen lake at the back of the estate was looking more and more appealing by the moment.

"N-No," he said, taking a moment to clear his throat. "No, that won't be necessary. The laces in back should adjust quite well without the need for more measurements. Are you hungry?" he asked, changing the subject. "I can fix something for us after you change … if you like?"

Belle smiled sweetly as he stepped behind her to unfasten the stays of the dress and peel the fitted sleeves down her arms, taking extra care not to dislodge the pins. He averted his gaze when she was left standing there in her shift, stockings and heels, not wanting her to think he was ogling her. He quickly draped the gown over the dressmaker's dummy once more before moving to help her down from the platform.

The sorcerer's fingers lingered at her waist as she stepped down, the feel of her soft curves exquisite beneath his light touch. "I think that would be lovely, Rumpel," she murmured, closing the distance between them. He sucked in a sharp breath as her arms wound about his neck and her breasts pressed into his chest.

Was this it? Would she let him kiss her this time? His hands fisted against the small of her back, afraid to move them and explore her supple curves as his instincts drove him to do. This thing between them was too new, and he didn't want to frighten her … never wanted to frighten her. Yet her own hands were far from still as they brushed over the line of his shoulders and up to his nape, kneading gently against the knots which had formed there as he'd bent over his work. His eyes slammed closed as her right hand slid up into his hair, her nails lightly scraping over his scalp. His entire body sang with need, a live wire in her precious hands.

His brow dropped to rest against hers, unable to hold his head up a moment longer, her innocent ministrations too much for his touch-starved body. "Belle …" he whispered, not even sure she'd heard as his arms tightened about her, pulling her flush against him. She had to feel his arousal pressed to her belly, the evidence of his desire for her.

"Shh … just let me hold you for a moment," she breathed against his lips. "It feels so good to be in your arms after waiting for so long … master."

Her sweet breath against his face, knowing he shared the same air with her, made his head swim, and he nearly dropped her at her admission. Yet she held on, refusing to allow any space between them. There was that niggling voice in the back of his mind asking the questions which plagued him: why does she want me? How could she bear for me to touch her? Along with the things he knew without doubt: I don't deserve her, I'm not good enough, unworthy, unbefitting.

Her lips trailing over his cheek, his jaw, the corner of his mouth … the heat and softness of her lips forced such thoughts to the back of his mind to be locked away along with the demon. Now it was just him and his sweet girl, his beloved Belle, and he couldn't bear it a moment longer. He had to kiss her, to claim her lips, to taste the honeyed recesses of her exquisite mouth.

And he missed, his lips brushing against the corner of her mouth, her head turning at the last moment. She'd done it … again, and he didn't know if he'd be able to live with her rejection again. He pulled her arms from around his shoulders, and held her hands clasped within his own against his chest as he looked down at her. He didn't miss the fiery color in her cheeks.

"Why?" he asked simply, his voice no more than a whisper as he fought to steady the frantic rhythm of his heart. "Why won't you let me kiss you?"

Belle frowned, a little crease appearing between her delicately arched brows. "I do let you kiss me, Rum."

Rumpelstiltskin lifted a finger to trace over her lips. "Never here," he explained, banishing her confusion. "Why do you deny me your lips when you've made it quite clear you enjoy my attentions?"

"Because – "

A loud pounding on the entry doors two floors below broke the pleasant haze enveloping them. "Maybe they'll go away," he mumbled under his breath. No, the pounding was replaced by the sound of the door swinging open and banging against the wall. That was followed by thundering boots on the marble stairs leading upwards. "Damn!"

"I thought the wards would keep intruders out," Belle fussed, no happier than he about the intrusion.

"The wards keep out anyone who would wish to do us harm, steal from us or have less than kind intentions," he answered distractedly.

"Anyone you know with less than admirable timing?"

"I can think of a few," he said with a roll of his eyes.

Belle bit down on her lip to stifle an angry retort. "I was hoping to finish our conversation."

Rumpelstiltskin hurried to fetch her robe from the settee and had barely draped it over her ivory shoulders when the door burst open … only to snap back into the intruder's face with a spark of magic. "See even the castle knows how to deal with the likes of him," he giggled, recognizing the groans out in the corridor. "And don't you worry, dearie, we'll be revisiting this conversation again … later."

Charming pushed open the door again, this time rather cautiously poking his head in. "This a bad time?"

The Dark One sighed and beckoned the prince inside. "What can I do for you today, shepherd? Another potion? A magical bauble? Has your princess gotten herself into a spot of trouble?" He noticed the princeling's gaze riveted on Belle and snarled, "Stop staring at Belle!"

"I beg your pardon, milady. I meant no offense," David quickly apologized. He'd been to the Dark Castle many times, but had yet to ever encounter the imp with a girl in such a state of undress.

Belle inclined her head in a regal nod to accept his apology, but it was Rumpelstiltskin she spoke to. "Shall I bring tea for you and your guest? And I think we have some of that roasted lamb from dinner last night. I can prepare a light repast."

The mage's eyes softened as he met her gaze. "I doubt Charming will be here that long, but you may bring refreshments for you and me. I've still quite a bit to do on your dress this afternoon."

She beamed at him and raised on her toes to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. "As you wish … master."

He shivered as he watched her go. Only then did he acknowledge his guest. "Well?"

David snapped to attention, trying to clear it of the girl kissing the Dark One. He didn't remark on it as the girl passed him. Somehow, he didn't think accusing the imp of ravishment was in his best interests. "Um … here," he said, reaching into the breast pocket of his doublet for a rolled parchment. "Regina wanted you to have this."

Rumpelstiltskin eyed the scroll warily, sending out feelers for any of Regina's darker magics before snatching it from the prince. It mattered little, the show the queen had put on for him. He couldn't find it within himself to trust her. He knew her too well.

"Tell me, shepherd … how are things regarding Snow and the queen. Do you really think she's changed?" he asked, watching David for any sign of duplicity.

Charming sighed and ran a hand over the back of his neck. "I don't know, really," he shrugged. "Snow is over the moon about Regina's change of heart. She feels this is a second chance for her to get to know her stepmother and form a lasting relationship with her."

"But?"

"Regina has done so much evil," David shuddered. "How am I supposed to just let that go and move forward. For all outward appearances, she seems to be genuine in her wish to change. I just don't know that I'll ever trust her."

Rumpelstiltskin noticed the prince still feared him as well, his hand never far from his sword. "And this new love of hers? What are your thoughts on him?"

"Robin? He's a decent fellow. He'd make a good soldier, but he's content with the tavern he runs on the outskirts of Sherwood."

The Dark One's eyes narrowed. "What does Snow White think of him?"

David smirked, seeing where the imp was going with his line of questioning. He, too, thought Snow was a rather good judge of character. "She likes him. She thinks he's good for Regina, and she knows they can be happy together."

"Doesn't this all seem a bit strange to you, dearie?" he snarled, pacing anxiously around the man. "Why would a fairy try to find love for the Evil Queen? Rather convenient, eh?"

"Tinkerbell said she just wanted to help. She was banished because of it."

Rumpelstiltskin's lip curled up in a smirk. "Well, shepherd, let's just hope it's not some elaborate ruse to come back and bite us all in the arse."

A/N: I swear I think Rumpel would expect the roof to cave in on him if someone or something wasn't interrupting him. David's lucky he didn't get turned into smth nice a squishable :D Next time … Belle tells Rumpel a secret, and he doesn't take it at all well. I really appreciate all the love and support y'all have sent for this story! Thank you all so much.