SMOKE AND ASHES

After an unexpected attack, Gold has sought the insights and opinions of Miss Belle and agrees with her perceptions that his people struggle to fight as a team and, as long as they cannot combine their resources, they are weak and vulnerable.

He also considered his own weaknesses: silver and Fae blood. He also recalled a very old spell, one that could make him the most powerful magic user in the world, a spell that once took away magic, but is now scattered over five scrolls and five pieces of a spell-blade. One of the scrolls and one piece of the knife is lost, rendering the spell unworkable.

A Quiet Sunday

Chapter 9

+ + + Sunday Morning

When he came down stairs the next morning he sensed someone was in his shop. He was cautious. It didn't feel like an enemy. It felt . . . familiar. It felt like sweetness and light.

When he opened the door he saw her. She had on a blue skirt and a pretty pink top. She had left her hair hanging down like a chestnut waterfall and put on her lipstick. She was twirling around in his shop as if she was listening to music. As he stood still, watching her, he realized that she was oblivious to his presence. And she was singing, her voice soft and pleasant.

Despite all that had happened to her whatever it may have been this woman seemed remarkably happy. He wondered what that felt like.

For the first time she had beat him to the shop. When she turned around she caught sight of him and beamed.

"Miss Belle, you look lovely," he told her. She did. "Sorry I was a bit late. I had to check in with one of the other tenants." To get one of his (ugh) hairs, an iron nail, and a silver ring. He'd start with these things for his first attempt at constructing an amulet for his pretty maid.

"We need to walk over to get my car from the Rankin garage and we'll drive out to the Sunny Point Café on Haywood Road for breakfast. It's a short trip but worth it."

He led her over to his black El Dorado Cadillac in its usual reserved spot. Belle did not make any comments regarding it being "an old man's car." Maybe, next time, he'd take her out in the Spider.

Belle sat quietly on the leather seat in the spacious, soundless vehicle. Gold put on some light jazz. Belle looked around. The car was pristine. It was comparable to any of the vehicles in her father's fleet. She found it nice to be able to sit in the front seat instead of behind the driver.

"Was there anywhere else you wanted to go today?" he asked her.

"Only if it isn't too much trouble. I have a short list of things I need that I didn't get on my last shopping trip," Belle was hesitant. She didn't want to impose.

"No problem," he assured her.

Belle rode without chattering, looking out the window at the scenery but most often looking at the man driving the car. He was not handsome in a classic sense, but nonetheless she thought he was very attractive. His brown eyes reminded her of rich coffee with caramel swirled into its depths. His hair, often unkempt, was brown with emerging grey streaks and it had been grown out unfashionably long. She wondered if it would feel as soft and as silky as it looked. Right now he was clean shaven and his jaw and cheeks were smooth, but she knew by the evening he would have brown-grey stubble covering his face. She was particularly drawn to his hands, with their long fingers. She sensed power in those fingers, expertise and talent and she remembered well the sensations a single finger had evoked when he had drawn it across her lips.

Gold seemed entirely focused on his driving, and was apparently unaware of her scrutiny.

In actuality he was hyperaware that she was looking at him. His previous liaisons had left him with few illusions regarding his attractiveness to the opposite sex. He was too short, not aggressively muscular enough, certainly not handsome. He was rough and uncouth, 'a peasant' Cora had called him. Despite her runaway status, Miss Belle seemed to be a lady, a refined, well-bred, well-educated young woman. She could not possibly find him attractive.

"Why did you have a falling out with your father?" he asked her. Anything to get her attention off of himself and on to some other topic.

She looked away from him. "Jefferson told you?"

"He did," Gold confirmed.

Belle decided to respond with the truth, "There were several things but mostly it was because he wanted me to marry someone that I didn't want to marry."

"And that was enough to make you feel that you had to leave home?"

"Well, there was a lot of money and business dealings and such at stake and when I said, 'no,' it messed up everything. There was a lot of anger directed at me from my father and the other party. My father . . . he's not usually a difficult man and I truly believe that he loves and cares for me. But when I said 'no' I guess it put everything in an uproar. He was at the end of his rope and made some threats. I don't know that he would have ever kept to any of them, but I decided I didn't want to risk it. I renounced my. . . I gave up my inheritance and left with what I could gather up quickly."

"And at some point you began to run out of money?"

"Oh yes, did I ever," she laughed sadly. "Of course, I realized that I couldn't use anything like a credit card. My father had people looking for me and they would have tracked me with that. I had to travel by bus, on foot, hitching rides and eventually I landed in Asheville. I decided I could blend in here and survive. I was doing all right, but the winter has been pretty tough. I'd been hoping I could get a job, but I couldn't use my real name so nobody could hire me." She wasn't prepared to tell him about the bad dreams, the withdrawal from all the medications that had made things worse, the terrifying sense of being watched, pursued, stalked.

"So my cash arrangement works well for you, then?"

"It's perfect."

"And so there are people actively looking for you?" he asked to confirm.

She didn't answer immediately. Her answer, when it came, was very low, "There are."

He pulled into the restaurant and they waited for a table. Gold noticed the other men in the place looking at Belle, then at him. He figured they thought she was his daughter or he was a rich man who could afford a young wife or, more likely, a young mistress. He put his hand on the small of her back in an intimate gesture. There was a perverse side of him that wanted the other men to know that she was not his daughter.

He got what he always got, the Smoked Sunburst Trout Omelet. Belle opted for the Summer Garden Omelet. He got tea. She got coffee.

He reached for her hand during the meal and held it. "I want you to know that I am really enjoying your company. I don't always relate well to other people and . . . I guess, I've been a bit lonely. I didn't realize it until you started working for me," he confessed, watching her closely to see how she would accept his gratitude.

Belle blushed. "I enjoy my time with you also. Ruby said you only went out with tenants to grill them over the progress of their training." She then added mischieviously, "And Emma said you had put me under a spell."

"A spell?!" he was amused. "I'll admit the thought is tempting," his eyes locked with hers, "but there has been no spell. And Ruby is right, I don't go out with tenants except to 'grill them.' You have been . . . an exception."

"Have I?" She had not moved her hand. "I think I've been lonely too. But . . . even if I had not been so, I would still enjoy my time with you."

The two continued looking deep into each other's eyes, warm brown eyes and soft cerulean blue. Age differences, money differences, class differences, all falling away.

What was wrong with her? She had known this man less than a week and he was clearly a complex, convoluted, dangerous man, a man from whom she would be better off keeping some distance. But, here she was considering crawling over the table top and settling herself into the man's lap. She would then want to wrap her arms around him, and kiss him, starting with the sexy hollow at the base of his neck and working her way back up to his mouth. But she just wasn't sure that any such crudely overt physical advances would be welcomed.

And the restaurant was hardly the time and place.

The waitress came with the check breaking the moment and Gold released his hold on Belle's hand.

Gold paid but struggled to keep his mind on figuring the tip.

What was wrong with him? He hadn't known this woman a week and what he did know about her should be making him run in the other direction, but instead. . . . instead he wanted to drag her over the table top and pull her into his lap so that he could inhale her sweet fragrance and kiss her forehead and her cheek and her perfect pouty lips. . . then work his way down her neck. He wondered if she would make soft little cries as she became aroused. He wondered if she would be soft and pliable or would she resist and require gentle coaxing. He sighed. He doubted crudely overt physical advances would be welcomed.

And the restaurant was hardly the time and place.

On the drive back Gold shared that usually the tenants would all get together Sunday afternoon and have a buffet lunch on the roof. With magical shielding, weather was never a concern. He was inviting her to join them but caught a panicked look on her face.

"I don't have anything to bring!"

"Well, everyone knows you're just starting out and you won't be expected to bring anything. There's always plenty of food."

Spoken ilike a man. "Can we please stop at something like a Dollar General and then run into a grocery store?" she asked him.

"Of course," and he navigated to the nearest discount store, a Big Lots.

Belle was able to get herself some paper pads and a few ink pens (to make her lists), a couple of hot pads, some hangers, an inexpensive coffee maker, a large glass bowl and a little am/fm radio. She insisted on paying for the items herself, telling him that he had done quite enough for her already. Gold then stopped at a Publix grocery store and Belle went into the deli and bought some potato salad. Then she got a can of paprika. She also picked up a bag of their cheapest coffee. He watched but didn't say anything.

He helped her carry her purchases from the parking lot back to the apartment building and walked her up to her door. He waited for her to open the door and then followed her down the hall into her little kitchen.

He looked around the apartment. "You've done a nice job with getting things arranged," he complimented her.

"Thanks. It's all your stuff," Belle told him as she put things away.

"You will be coming up at one o'clock for the buffet?" he asked.

"Absolutely," she replied.

They stood awkwardly in her little kitchen, the small quarters pressing them in together.

"Can I get you something to drink?" Belle spoke nervously. "I have uh. . . water. . . tea. . . and some orange juice, oh, and now I can make coffee."

"I'm fine, thank you," he told her standing close to her. He liked standing close to her.

"Oh yes, I almost forgot. I owe you a meal. Maybe next Thursday?" she asked nervously. That should give her time to find something she could cook and find someone who would take her to a grocery store.

"Thursday would be lovely," he answered her, still standing in her kitchen.

Belle felt overwhelmed with the nearness of his presence, his intense masculine aura filling the little space. She was acutely aware of his body heat, his slightly spicy aftershave if he was wearing aftershave. She wasn't sure if she was hot or cold.

She was never more aware that she was a virgin.

An inexperienced, sheltered, socially awkward virgin.

Gold was enjoying himself, breathing in her fresh scent, her bright smile and pleasant demeanor. She was like a light in an ocean of darkness. She seemed shy and a little unsure of herself which, after dealing with hyper-aggressive women, was entirely refreshing.

He kept having to remind himself of his rule: Never, ever get involved with one of his protégés.

It was getting harder and harder to remember that rule.

He somehow managed to get himself out of her apartment.

+ + + Sunday Afternoon

At five 'til one, Belle had carefully emptied the plastic carton of potato salad into her new glass bowl and sprinkled it lightly with paprika. Satisfied with her offering, she carried it up the three flights of stairs to the roof. Ruby was already there and waved at her. Someone had set up a long table and scattered foldup chairs around. Belle set her potato salad on the 'salad end' of the table. She could see there was already a marinated caprese salad at the same end as were some paper plates, napkins and plastic cutlery. There were a variety of sandwiches, cheese plates, fruit plates and something that looked like chili in a crockpot spaced out on the table.

"I see you didn't get your things together and flee this chicken outfit after the other evening," Ruby said to her coming over.

Belle gave her a weak smile. "Gold had a long talk with me afterwards," Belle told her.

"And even after that you still stayed," Ruby's eyes went wide in mock horror. "Oh, let me introduce you to some of the other denizens of the building." Ruby grabbed her hand and introduced Belle to a handsome couple. "This is David and Mary Margaret. He works in the police department and, sometimes, in the Mayor's office, and Mary Margaret who's a teacher. Folks, this is . . . all right here, wait a moment. I heard you were Lacey, but Gold was calling you Belle. She's our new member."

"I'm Belle. Lacey was my nom de voyage, the name I use until I'm sure about people and stuff," explained Belle.

No one in the group seemed to have any difficulties grasping why she might have felt the need to use a phony name. "You're in Graham's apartment?" asked David.

"Yeah, she's in 2A," Ruby confirmed.

"Graham?" Belle asked.

"The really nice guy who lived in your apartment before you. He worked in the police department and . . . ," Ruby hesitated. "He died on duty. They said he was hit by a car. There was massive internal bleeding and it looked like he'd had a heart attack," she explained in a whisper. "Gold thinks it was a magical hit."

"Oh," said Belle. She might have commented more but a tall, dark and handsome fellow came up just then. Belle recognized him as the fellow who'd been on the rooftop stabbing at the shadows during the attack.

Ruby introduced him as Killian Jones who lived on the third floor, the same as Jefferson, who also came up shortly thereafter. Then came the short, sturdy, balding man, older than the others she had met; she had seen him come through the lobby and give Gold a thumbs up. This was Leroy. Belle also recognized the shy young man with red hair who came up. This time she got his name, Archie.

She also got to meet Milah, the same woman she had seen throwing lightning bolts during the dubharim attack. The woman glared at her. So this was Milah! Belle thought she was gorgeous with long lustrous black hair. And she was more at ease with her body than Belle felt she could ever be. Belle knew she would never have felt comfortable wearing such revealing garments, in this instance, jeggings, a tube top and sky-high spike heels.

Emma and Ashley came in and greeted her enthusiastically. Then came Regina, the woman who'd called Gold a 'dick,' a stunning brunette, and, especially given that this was a casual outing, she was dressed to the nines, in a high end short-skirted suit, with patterned pantyhose and shiny heeled pumps. Gold came up last and his arrival signaled everyone to start the buffet line. Belle was pressured to go first since she was 'the new one.'

"I heard you were an Empath," said Milah coming up behind her. "What do you do with tha-at?" the woman didn't sound genuinely friendly, more genuinely snotty.

"Mr. Gold and I are working to try to get a sense of what I can offer the group," Belle responded as sweetly (and as honestly) as she could manage. Despite her cheap attire, Milah reminded Belle of so many of the society women that she knew from her father's sphere; money and family connections were all important and they looked down on people who didn't have both. "He's going to be working with me tonight," she added knowing from Ruby's and Emma's gossip that Milah was the one who was hot for Gold and hadn't been able to make any headway.

"Really, you got a private lesson?" Milah obviously was getting her back up.

"He suggested it," Belle replied and was then 'distracted' by something Mary Margaret had said.

Milah might have followed her, but the group was interrupted by the arrival of a stranger, a lovely young woman with honey-blond hair and green eyes. Gold immediately went to her, "Marilyn, so glad you could come."

Gold held out his hands to Marilyn and she nodded in greeting to him, taking his hands in return. They didn't hug but did give each other small smiles.

"I want you to meet my protégés," Gold turned to the larger group and introduced Marilyn to the individuals. "And," when he came to Milah, "this is the young woman I want you to work with. She has a lot of talent but we are having trouble harnessing it. I thought you would be the ideal tutor for her."

"Of course, weather phenome is one of my specialties." Marilyn's eyes quickly went to Belle. She lowered her voice, "Tell me about this one," she said to Gold.

"Ah, I will talk with you later about her. She is quite new with us and we are still helping her find her place."

Marilyn gave Belle a genuine smile and then went off to get herself some food. Jefferson, Jones, Archie and Leroy were all right there helping her pick out some food.

The women stood back looking the newcomer over. "And just who is she?" asked Regina.

"Someone that Gold called in to help Milah," Mary Margaret told them.

Regina snorted, "Milah, that's what you get for trying so hard to get Gold into your drawers. If you hadn't acted such a road whore, he might have been the one working with you."

"Yeah, I've seen how much work he puts in with you," Milah retorted.

"More than enough," Regina sniped back. "He's not the joy to work with that you apparently think he is. The man's impossible to please, constantly criticizes, and he'll pop you with a fireball if he thinks you aren't working hard enough."

"He's never popped me," Milah said smugly.

"He's never spent any time with you," Regina set out to quell Milah. "Your skills are barely above that of a kitchen witch. I've never been sure why The House let you in."

"Well maybe I'm not a master of any Element, but I can make it rain on you and melt your ass."

"You're thinking of my sister, you stupid little cunt," Regina bit out.

Milah immediately (and understandably) got pissed, "You're calling me a cunt!? After what I heard about you and Graham and all the kinky stuff you two were into? Handcuffs? Really? And then I heard you went all vanilla and tried to get David Nolen but he stuck by Mary Margaret."

Belle had watched the interchange. A lot of insecurities and low self-esteem. Both of them. She shook her head. However will Gold ever manage to make them work together?

Belle stood apart watching the group, watching Gold. He moved smoothly from small group to small group, from individual to individual. They all responded to him, the men stood straighter, the women preened when he talked to them. Belle's sharp eyes caught that he moved in a pattern, was he weaving a spell, somehow binding them together? Everyone seemed to relax as he chatted with them and their feelings remained calm and collected after he stepped away.

Belle also watched the newcomer, Marilyn, was her name? She was lovely, fresh, wholesome, yet also managed to be seductive and sultry and Belle had felt intense tingling without ever having any physical contact with the woman. Belle saw that Marilyn too was watching everyone, including Gold.

He took a moment, after everyone had served themselves, to address the group.

"I am alarmed," he began solemnly. "Although many of you are most talented, you need to work together. Instead of practicing alone, I want us to begin practicing together. Every Tuesday night, every Thursday night, we are to get together and I will set groups against each other. If we can't learn to rely on each others' strengths, if we can't learn to work together, we'll go under. We won't have a chance."

There was some grumbling, but those who had participated in the recent ill-fated defense nodded, if reluctantly, in agreement.

The afternoon went forward and by three o'clock, people were heading back downstairs. Gold let them know that he planned to be involved in the new training sessions and would, sometimes, have them sparring with himself. He then pulled Marilyn and Milah together and had a quiet chat with them. Ruby and Emma caught up with Belle and pulled in Mary Margaret.

Ruby whispered to Belle, "We wanted you to have a chance to connect with Mary Margaret."

They went down to Mary Margaret's apartment. It was a larger apartment than Belle's, Mary Margaret explained that when she and David had gotten married The House connected their apartments. The group initially settled in her kitchen, a study in whitewash and blue gingham, very homey, complete with homemade oatmeal-raisin cookies on the countertop.

Mary Margaret shared that her day job was a fourth grade teacher. She seemed to be sweet and perky but Belle could sense an underlying steel to the woman.

Emma and Belle went on into the living room while Mary Margaret and Ruby remained into her kitchen to fix a pitcher of tea for everyone. Emma shared that the teacher's talent was, among other things, a bit of precognition. This made her an awesome fighter as she knew what direction the enemy was going to feint or pull towards. Mary Margaret, carrying the pitcher and some glasses and returning to the group, shared that it also made her a dynamite disciplinarian as she could anticipate misbehavior from her students before they were able to make a move. Ruby followed with two trays of nosh food, cookies, peanuts, cheese crackers, dips, chips and more.

Mary Margaret shared her story with Belle. She had been hit with a bogus charge of theft and had lost her livelihood and her home and was out on the streets. She was pretty desperate when she wandered into Gold's shop. He had first gotten her a job as an aide in a private preschool and then did some choice legal work to get her teaching certificate reinstated. She'd been able to move into a full-time teaching position again.

"Mr. Gold does legal work?" Belle asked.

"Uh huh, he's a licensed attorney," Mary Margaret told her.

Emma took a chip and popped it into her mouth, "Fits, don't it?"

"I guess," agreed Belle.

Emma let Belle know that Mary Margaret was an expert with a pistol and a fencing blade. Mary Margaret corrected her, "That's an epee. You got a gun, honey?" she asked Belle.

"No," Belle answered wondering where this was going.

"Well, I know we're fighting all these spooks and all, but I'm telling you, it's a smart girl who packs a little heat of her own. You and me, we'll go out Monday afternoon and I'll get you set up. Leroy makes our bullets. They're a special metal combination: iron for anything of the Light that attacks you and silver for the Dark," she explained. "Vorpal bullets," she added.

What kind of bullets? thought Belle.

"She's done this for all the tenants of the building," Ruby explained. "Gold prefers that we all at least possess a weapon."

"Well, I don't know. A gun. . . ?" Belle began.

"What?! They're legal. I'll find you a nice pink one," Mary Margaret told her. "Just because you have magic, it doesn't hurt to have backup. You got any background with self-defense, hand-to-hand, krav maga?"

Belle debated. She'd always answered that question with a "no," but in reality her father's secret service had made sure that she had better than average self-defense skills. "A little," she answered Mary Margaret.

"Great. We get together every Wednesday evening and have a class. Gold is going to get us to continue with this class even though we have all the other training. We'll expect you at 8:00," and she gave Belle a pert smile.

Belle realized that part of Mary Margaret's talent was in anticipating people's arguments, people's questions, and responding to them before they were stated. She was very strong, organized and a natural leader.

"Wear something comfortable," Emma told Belle.

"Now what happened up on the rooftop that got Gold's panties in a wad?" Mary Margaret asked the other women.

"Well momma, we just got our butts kicked," Emma told her. "There were so many of those little boogeymen, they just overwhelmed us."

"And then Gold came out with a flashbomb and cleared the whole area. Emma, why can't you or Regina or Ashley do a flashbomb?" Ruby asked.

"Not strong enough," Emma explained. "It was Belle's idea that we should learn to work as teams, instead of individuals."

"Well," Mary Margaret considered. "That does make sense."

"Except when it's going to take up every spare minute of our limited free time," Ruby said.

"I'm sorry," Belle told her.

"Don't let them make you feel guilty. Gold would've had the idea on his own," Mary Margaret reassured her.

Ruby sighed, "You're right, Mary Margaret. Belle, I know it's not your fault."

"We all know it. We really do need to get better," Emma agreed.

"Now," began Mary Margaret. "Is there anything you need?" she asked Belle kindly.

"Oh, I need to find out when any of you go grocery shopping. I have an . . . uh . . . appointment with Mr. Gold on Thursday night. I promised him I'd make supper for him."

The other three women gaped at Belle then at each other.

"Get out!" Ruby nearly shouted.

"You are going to have Gold over for a supper date!"

Belle was alarmed with how her pronouncement had been received.

"You realize that nobody, nobody, has ever had Gold over for a supper date?" Mary Margaret asked her.

"No, it's not a date," Belle tried to clarify her relationship. She was not sure what was going on.

"Belle," Emma began, "Gold never, ever, ever goes to anyone's apartment for supper. He has this rule, no dating the tenants! Ever, ever, ever."

"This isn't a date! He's just been taking me out to eat for breakfast and I told him I wasn't comfortable with him paying for all my meals, so he suggested that once I got paid, that I fix him a meal. I told him that I'd make him supper and he. . . he. . . agreed to come to my apartment."

"And you're going to breakfast with him, like every day?! And you're telling yourself those are not dates? Wow, next thing, he'll be having you into his place," Mary Margaret said. "Nobody, except Milah who snuck in and got escorted out PDQ, has ever been inside that man's apartment. It's like it's some kind of sacred domain."

Belle, unable to help herself, dropped her eyes.

Emma caught Belle's expression, "You've been inside his apartment, haven't you?"

Belle nodded, "Last night after the attack, he took me into his place."

All three women moved in. "Why?" "What did his place look like?" "Did he put any moves on you?"

She attempted to answer each question, "He wanted to talk about the attack and my role in the group," for the first question, then, "He has a lot of nice antiques. It's very classy and elegant," and finally the last one, "And no." There had been that erotic touch of his finger slowly tracing her lips which had aroused her beyond anything else she had ever experienced. But it wasn't like he'd tried to kiss her or feel her up.

"Belle, he's got feelings for you," Emma told her. "I've never known him to treat anyone like he's treating you."

"Should I be worried?" Belle asked trying to turn it all into a joke. She'd had three glasses of Mary Margaret's tea and was feeling decidedly woozy.

The other three women got quiet. "Maybe," Mary Margaret finally responded. "Belle, he's a difficult man. Not like any other man anywhere else. He has powers that we can't begin to fathom. Nobody knows how old he is. And he has a bad history, something very dark and dangerous sometimes seems to take hold of him. One story is that he sold his soul to the devil, another that he found some ancient cursed artifact and it possessed him, another that he was the lover of some powerful magical creature, crossed her and she cursed him."

Belle hesitated but opted to share, "He told me that he was born the way he is."

"Maybe so, but he's so much more powerful than any human we've got any records on. The Fae, the fairy people that we fight alongside, don't trust him whatsoever," Mary Margaret looked at the other women before she continued, "We think they were so afraid of him that they decided that . . . that they needed to contain his talents and, somehow, . . .they imprisoned him. For a long time, a long, long time."

Belle realized that this was likely 'the bad place' Gold had told her he had been in. "Did he escape? What happened?"

"We think they eventually made an agreement with him. As long as he fights their enemies, they allow him freedom. They put him here to hold the dark powers at bay."

Belle thought this over. "So he's being . . . extorted? I mean he's free as long as he dances to their tune?"

"Pretty much," Emma answered. "I know he's working for the good guys but it is under duress. Makes you kinda wonder what he'd be like if he got off his leash."

Mary Margaret shook her head, "Oh, I don't know that we'd want to know."

Belle was left musing while she and the women continued gnoshing the snack foods and discussing different issues. They were all very relaxed and talkative. Belle gathered that Mary Margaret and David had actually managed to get married after a tempestuous romance. She'd discovered that Graham had dated Regina and then threw her over for Emma that might explain some of Regina's animosity for Emma. Regina was now seeing one of the lead detectives, Robert Locksley, a nice fellow that Emma and David worked with. Ruby had dated just about everybody except Gold.

Belle happened to glance at the time. "Oh my stars!" she said. "It's 7:55!" The time had totally gotten away from her.

"So what, you turn back into a pumpkin or something?" Ruby asked.

"Yeah, you got to get home before the clock strikes eight or you'll change back into . . . whatever you were before?" Emma asked.

"Yes, no, I mean I have to go up to the roof. I have an appointment with Mr. Gold."

"Oooooo," said Ruby. "A date with Mr. G."

"Not a date, an appointment. He says I don't know how to shield myself and I've got to learn."

The women all sobered. "Really? You can't shield?"

Emma looked at her, puzzled. Emma could see Belle's shields and she looked fine, better than fine. In fact, Emma thought that Belle had some pretty remarkable shields. She was not sure what exactly Gold had seen in the young woman's aura. Well, it was his ballgame – or whatever other game he was playing. She wasn't going to intervene until and unless she thought he was hurting Belle.

Ruby and Mary Margaret remained concerned. "Oh, Belle. You need to go. You have to have shields." And they stood to help send her off.

Belle climbed the stairs. She felt unusually dizzy, but very, very relaxed. That was nice tea that Mary Margaret had served everybody.

A.N. Hoping I haven't been too esoteric Disney in naming Marilyn's character. If you don't know who she is, you'll eventually be able to figure it out.

Thanks (as always) to my very helpful, wonderful reviewers: Tinuviel Undomiel, Robin4, RoxyMoron, the doctorsgirl42, cynicsquest, orthankg1, RaFire, Aletta-Feather, Wondermorena, karolprado, Tee-Cup, deweymay, Chauchi, juju0268, Grace5231973, OneMagician, spacecats, MyraValhallah, mockorangeflower, emospritelet, Erik'sTrueAngel, LynRward

Guest (married) I hadn't addressed this detail in my preliminary notes, but I had put their apartments adjacent to each other; I like the idea of them being married (it's less sleezy), thx for the nod/idea

Anne Andrews (Guest): thx, we're still a ways from finding out all that Belle can do, but physical contact between Belle and Gold will occur in the next chapter.

NEXT: Belle and Gold share a kiss (finally)

They share some odd experiences when they tap each other's shields