SMOKE AND ASHES

Yeah, I know, I'm pretty delinquent getting this chapter out. Usually my husband and I head north for a couple of days of vacation and we stay in quaint little towns, drive/walk to the top of mountains, walk under mountains and/or drive/walk (or in the case of Big Bradley Falls, walk on and hold onto three wires) to get to different waterfalls. This year we decided to head south to the megalopolis of Atlanta (and stay in one of the big Dragoncon convention hotels and do all the tourist things – Aquarium, CNN tour, Coca-Cola tour, Zoo, Natural History museum). Since free wi-fi has always been available when we've been in West Podunk or East Jesus, we made the assumption that it would surely be available in Atlanta; however, it was an additional thirty plus dollars to get onto a reportedly most unreliable wi-fi (which can buy breakfast for two in Atlanta), so we demurred. I've got over a hundred emails (most from fanfic) so I'm not only behing in posting but also most behind in reading/reviewing other people's stuff. However, we're home now and I will be doing my best to catch-up over the next couple of days. Thanks for everybody's understanding. -twyla

Belle, unwittingly inebriated, pressed a chaste kiss on Mr. Gold who found all of his reasons not to engage with his pretty maid crumbling. He passionately kissed her back. In an honorable moment, he then excused himself, reluctant to press his advantage with his intoxicated little maid.

The next morning, they shared a simple breakfast in Belle's little apartment and then Mr. Gold attempted to help Belle with her shielding. They quickly discover that they are readily able to access each other's innermost thoughts. With mysterious Marilyn's assistance, they further discover that Belle, as part of her empathic abilities is well shielded but they begin to suspect that she may well be able to pierce the shielding of others.

Bewitched, amused and fascinated, Gold takes a moment to reconsider his self-imposed rules regarding his relationships - both with his tenants and with women. He impulsively decides to throw caution to the wind and pursue the attentions of the lovely half-Fae Empath. He has announced to Belle that he would like for her to kiss him again.

Chapter 11

Just for Safety

Belle stood stock-still gaping at Mr. Gold as he walked on ahead of her down the street.

When she didn't follow him, he stopped and glanced back at her, "Coming along?"

Belle shook herself. "Yes, absolutely." He wanted her to kiss him!

Belle scampered to catch up with the man. When he held out his hand, she paused a brief moment, recognizing the gesture for what it meant – he was all right with other people finding out about their relationship, such as it was, whatever it was. She graciously settled her hand into his and they walked as a couple up toward Battery Park.

"You like Indian food?" he asked her.

Belle laughed, "I think you'll find there is very little food that I don't enjoy."

"A woman with a healthy appetite," he said softly and caught her blushing. "Well good, this is one of my favorite places. A little hole in the wall."

Belle was familiar with the location. They sat inside in one of the booths. Belle found herself watching Mr. Gold. He seemed to have softened, his smiles more frequent and longer, his eyes often connecting with hers.

At his recommendation, they ordered the daily special, butter chicken which came with rice, daal (seasoned lentils), roti (a wholegrain flatbread), and kachumber (a tomato, cucumber salad). Gold was surprised to find that Belle was well versed in Indian food What else did this woman know about? They both opted to get the restaurant's Lime Rickys (raspberry and lime flavored soda water) to drink.

Belle remained preoccupied during the meal, busily digesting what the man had said to her. She wasn't sure what to say. She was still trying to wrap her mind around him wanting to kiss her.

"Are you feeling all right?" Gold finally asked her.

"Uh huh," she told him her eyes wide and glowing, still replaying their conversation in her head.

Gold felt some measure of satisfaction. He had managed to reduce the delectable Miss Belle to a state of speechlessness with his declaration of . . . of. . . kissing and a little hand-holding.

Sweet!

He suspected that she was quite inexperienced. How did such a beautiful woman grow into adulthood without having some experience with the opposite sex? Another one of the many mysteries surrounding Miss Belle.

He considered what he knew. She was obviously well educated, very well read, and displayed refined manners. She had an innate sense of style and elegance. She also came from a family who arranged their marriages and had money to hire people to continue to look for her. Who the hell had she been before she had run away? He hadn't quite been able to place her lilting accent. He knew he could go digging around in her head to find some answers but he was resisting that route with this lady. She might opt to go rooting around in his head if he took that tact. She would likely come out looking pristine and proper at the end of a psychic probe but he knew damn well that he wouldn't.

As they left the restaurant, she reached for his hand and held it as they walked back to The House. He liked that she had made the gesture this time. Walking along they were passed by the Amazing Pub Cycle, a thirteen-man (or woman) pedaled vehicle that offered tours of the Asheville area . . . and served beer.

Belle was fascinated by the vehicle and laughed. "We have to get a ride on that," she told Gold.

"Cycling around Asheville, drinking beer – sounds like the perfect afternoon to me," he said. He had to wonder at himself. Two weeks ago he would have rolled his eyes and made a sarcastic reply to anyone who dared suggest such a thing, but when Belle said it . . . well, it sounded like it might be fun.

They were on their way down Heyward when Gold asked, "Do you like chocolate?"

Belle looked blankly at him, "Mr. Gold, I have two X chromosomes. Of course, I like chocolate."

"Then let's get a little treat," he told her and steered her into The Chocolate Fetish. Belle looked over all the options and quite a few there were. She finally selected for the French Velvet Truffle. Gold bought himself a Dragon Sigh Truffle. They consumed their treats before they hit pavement. Gold watched Belle close her eyes as she savored the fine handmade chocolate candy, taking her time, her tongue sliding along her lips to be sure to get every morsel of the excellent chocolate. He wondered if she felt the same way about his kisses. Still holding each other's hand they returned to The House and he joined her in her little apartment.

They had barely shut the door behind them when Gold pulled her into him. Belle recklessly allowed him to enfold her. As before his lips crashed into hers and he held her head in place while he possessed her mouth. He pulled back a moment and Belle could see his eyes were darkened.

"Belle?" he questioned. Was it all right? What he was doing? Did she welcome his touch, his kisses?

She smiled at him, "I thought you wanted me to kiss you," she told him.

"That too," he agreed. He smiled then and after a moment decided, "Let's go to your sofa." Not ready to take her to the bedroom just yet. He guided her towards the front of her apartment where he sat down with her, cradling her, having her face him with her legs pulled up onto the sofa. He then turned his complete attention to the soft, pliable lips of the little half-Fae. She was eager and returned his kisses with clumsy enthusiasm.

"I like this lesson more than the stuff we did with the shields," she managed to tell him at one point when she had come up for air.

He had to agree and he gently began to school her to his desires, a partly open mouth, lips soft. When he tentatively touched her tongue with his, she stiffened, the unexpected contact startling her. Her eyes, which had closed to savor the sensory delights he was exacting on her, popped open and she pulled back.

"Wha?" she began.

He shushed her, his hand soothing her hair back. "Shh," he told her. "I don't want to go too fast for you. This afternoon, I just want to enjoy your kisses. Belle," he began seriously. "You are . . . inexperienced."

He said it as a fact and Belle dropped her eyes and blushed.

"I'm sorry," she told him.

"No, no, my dear sweet girl, I'm not complaining. It's quite refreshing. But I have to respect who you are. I don't want to scare you by moving too fast." He hesitated, "I want you to be sure, absolutely sure of the direction we're going. I don't want to think that I've pressured you or. . .seduced you."

"You are being too . . . too . . . " her eyes suddenly twinkled with mischief. "like my father."

Gold winced, "Ouch." He smiled back at her. "But you understand my reservations. You are young and innocent and I'm. . . I'm not. I also don't have a good track record with females. None of my relationships have lasted any time. It may be partly them or partly me. . . oh hell,it's me. It's all me. I'm arrogant and self-centered and . . . I lack finesse. I'm crude and demanding, not always the most honest person. I make bad choices and I. . . I . . . "

Belle considered what he was saying, "Once burnt, twice shy?" she asked him.

He shrugged, "Maybe so." He gazed into her eyes for a long time. "So you understand why I don't want to go too fast?"

"I think so. Can we get back to kissing?" Belle asked.

Gold nearly laughed. "Yes, yes we can. I want to show you some things."

And he lent his attentions back to her, again encouraging her to open her mouth to his. This time he was startled when he felt Belle's little tongue tentatively reach into his mouth, running along the inside of his lips. Minx. So much for me showing her some things.

He was able to wrap his arms around her and after he kissed her mouth, he leisurely kissed her along her chin and down her neck, feeling her shudder as he spent attentions on the delicate flesh between her shoulder and her neck.

"I like that," she managed to tell him.

Although he had wanted to restrict their pastime to just kissing, he felt one of her little hands sliding inside his jacket and settling in under his armpit. He realized that one of his own hands was creeping up her body, settling under her breast. His thumb reached up to brush the side, feeling the tender flesh yield to the slight pressure. He heard her whimper. His hand moved to cup her breast, gentle squeezing, his thumb now stimulating her responsive nipple that even through her top and her bra, he could tell had hardened immediately. She lifted her body to his hand, seeking the pressure and the warmth his fingers were providing.

Her own hands had been busy. He again felt her hands moving around under his jacket, flitting back to loosen his tie, then to unfasten the buttons on his vest and then his shirt. He could feel her hands on his chest with only his snug fitting Sloane undershirt between himself and her questing fingers.

Too fast! He thought. They were going too fast.

But he didn't want to stop. Belle was warm and cuddly and yielding and surrendering to his lead, his desires. It wouldn't take any effort to have her right here on the sofa. He could lift her skirts. . . .

No, no. He needed to go slowly.

He stopped. Belle had her eyes closed and her head fell back onto his arm.

"Please, don't stop," she told him.

"Belle, we have to stop," he told her. It wasn't easy. He pulled his hand away. "We have to stop."

"Are you sure?" she asked him, looking at him through her dark lashes.

Damn. He had nearly lost control and relieved himself, right there with her cradled up against him.

"Yeah, I'm sure. We need to take a break," he told her, then corrected himself, "I need to take a break."

She sat back up. "Are you angry?"

"Oh lord no," he told her. "You're just so responsive . . . more responsive than I anticipated. And I don't want to hurt you. I don't want to rush you into something that you might regret later."

"I know my own mind. I'm responsible for any decisions I make," she told him.

"Yes you darling girl," he couldn't help but pull her to him again for another quick rough kiss. "You may be the only one to decide your fate, but I want to be sure that I'm not unduly influencing you. I've rescued you from a desperate situation and I don't want you mistaking gratitude for . . . well, for anything else."

Belle couldn't help but smile at the man. For all his wealth and experiences, his powers and his talents, he was so unsure of his appeal. As if he didn't feel he was attractive. As if he didn't feel that he was worthy of love.

He'd set her body on fire and now wanted to end it before they both totally combusted.

She understood.

She didn't like ii.

But she understood.

Gold cleared his throat. "I need to take care of a few things." He didn't want to tell her that he felt like he could drive a number ten nail into a cinderblock; he needed to cool off or jerk off or do something to relieve the pressure.

"I'll see you tomorrow morning," he promised her, reluctantly rising. She helped him button his shirt and vest but left his tie loosened.

He stopped before opening the door to the hall. "Belle, you're so incredibly beautiful," She leaned in and they shared one last heated kiss before he parted, shutting the door behind himself.

Belle took several deep breaths. She felt surprisingly invigorated as if she had absorbed some of Gold's energies.

The kissing had been wonderful. She had never thought that just kissing would be so satisfying, and, at the same time, so unsatisfying. She felt as if something had been awakened within her. When his mouth had joined with hers, she had been able to taste him - spicy, smoky, chocolaty, perhaps whiskey. When he had trailed kisses down her neck, she had felt her deepest inner core twitch and tightened up. When his hand had settled on her breast, she had felt that she was going to melt. She felt like maybe she had melted right into her sensible panties.

Why did he want to go slowly? She was ready, so ready to consummate their relationship.

But she understood why he didn't want to rush her. There were so many differences between them. He seemed to respect her and seemed to want her to be sure, absolutely sure that she wanted this relationship.

That afternoon Belle turned her energies into cleaning her apartment. She first changed out of her sodden panties and tossed these and her other clothes into the washer. Then she wiped down her bathroom and the kitchen. She swabbed down the inside of the refrigerator. She realized that she didn't have a broom to sweep, so she took one of dishcloths and, on her hands and knees, wiped the floors down. By now the washer had finished a load, so she placed her clothing around the apartment to dry and then she stripped the bed and threw in the sheets, the linen tablecloths and her cleaning cloths into the washing machine. She took a moment to ensure herself that her money was still safely tucked away into the various cubbies.

She then rewound her hair onto the top of her hair. She sat down. She was pretty pleased with how things looked. She hesitantly took forty dollars and tucked it into her pocket. It was late afternoon and she had just put the sheets into the dryer (she didn't think they would have time to air dry before bedtime) when there was a tap at the door.

It was Mary Margaret.

"Hey sweetie. Now doesn't this place look so nice. Mr. Gold helped you out, didn't he? He can be nice that way." Mary Margaret commented, over-looking the wet laundry hanging over the chairs. "You ready to do a little gun and grocery shopping with me?"

Belle took a deep breath. "I guess so. I'm not at all sure about this, you know."

"Honey, Mr. G. asked me to take care of you and he's gonna take care of the bill."

"Oh, I can't let him. . . "

"Hey, it's for self-defense, kinda a job related expense. And while you may never need a weapon, if you do, you'll have it."

Belle went out with Mary Margaret to her car. On the way out, Mary Margaret handed her a mid-size brown envelope. "This is some paperwork for you."

Belle peeked inside. There was a driver's license where did her picture come from? a social security card, and a gun permit in the packet.

She looked at Mary Margaret in confusion.

The older woman explained, "Mr. Gold had David put together some paperwork for you because you didn't have any identification. You do now. You're Isabella DuPont and you're twenty-one; you just had a birthday on October 31st."

"Really?" The lack of identification had been a serious detriment to Belle getting a job.

"The passport will be coming shortly. This is all David's specialty. He's a negotiator . . . he can convince anybody of anything and it spills over so that's it's not just with people, but it's also materials. He's really good at producing realistic documents. It's part of his Talent. It's a pretty important skill considering how many of us have altered identities," Mary Margaret continued.

Belle nodded and took out the identification paperwork from the brown envelope to put into her little bag. They had, by this time, pulled up into the lot for the gun store. Belle was quite nervous going into the large weapons emporium but Mary Margaret was calm and collected. She was evidently well known to Manager Clayle (someone who looked like he would have been rejected from Swamp People as looking just too scungy). Mary Margaret produced Belle's required paperwork and she let Clayle know what type of gun Belle might be interested in.

"She's a complete novice and she's really petite. I was thinking one of the Kel-Tec's with the laser sight." Mary Margaret turned to Belle. "You don't mind if it doesn't come in pink or purple? Ruger's got several pistols that do, but they don't have the laser sight, which is great for a beginner."

Belle nodded. "All right." She had no clue what she was getting into.

Clayle handed her three different semiautomatic pistols and Belle and Mary Margaret went into shooting gallery. Belle practiced with each of the three weapons, wincing and shaking her hand to get rid of the tingling each time she fired one. With Mary Margaret's help, she decided on the recommended pistol with the laser sight. She was most uncomfortable with the weapon, although Clayle and Mary Margaret were both complimentary regarding her targeting skills.

"Now, we'll start work on you getting a concealed weapons permit right away but right now, we'll just take the bullets out and stash these bad boys. We'll be fine getting them home if we just leave them in a brown paper bag," Mary Margaret announced. "Now let's do some grocery shopping. Earth Fare all right with you?"

"Sure," Belle wasn't sure where they were going, but she was fine as long as she could get something she could prepare for supper for the looming Thursday Night Dinner.

"How'd the shield training go?" Mary Margaret asked her as they drove on to the grocery store.

"Well. . . " Belle was hesitant. "Uh. . .we found out that my shields are fine."

"So . . . what was the problem?"

"Apparently Mr. Gold and I are able to get through each other's shields."

"Get out! David and I can do that too, with each other, I mean."

"You can?!" Belle was puzzled. "So what does it mean?"

"I wouldn't know. I can tell you that one time Mr. Gold was in an odd mood, even for him, probably drunk or something, when he looked at me and David, and, sounding as disgusted as only Mr. Gold can, he said, 'Oh, you two have twu wuv.'"

"True Love?" Belle asked for clarification.

"Yeah. I can tell you that both of us knew something was up the first moment we met. Not that it was a great first meeting." Mary Margaret hesitated, "I probably shouldn't be telling you all this. It's not something I usually share, I'm certainly not proud of it, but I held David up at knifepoint – understand it was one of the worst times in my life for me – I was totally desperate. But even with that kind of meeting, we couldn't get each other out of our minds. I know I kept fantasizing about how it would feel to kiss this guy and how it would feel if he felt me up and if we ever did the naughty, how great that would be."

"Really?" Those thoughts sounded suspiciously like the thoughts Belle had been having about a certain taciturn landlord.

"It was really rocky at first. David tracked me down and got his wallet back, but he also let me go. But even though we both had feelings for each other, David was engaged to someone else. I might have been a thief but I wasn't a home wrecker so I was trying to keep my distance."

"What happened?"

"Well, it was shortly after the hold-up incident, when I came into The House and my apartment was next to his so we kept getting thrown together. It turned out that David's fiancée was in love with someone else and she wanted out of the wedding just as much as he did. They're still good friends, actually. After their breakup, David and I finally got together and we went ahead and got married. I mean, why not, huh? The oddest thing was The House's response to the wedding. It blended our apartments. After the little ceremony - we just went to the Justice of the Peace - when we got back upstairs, well, there everything was. It had all been shifted around and combined together. Kinda creepy but still nice. I guess that meant that The House approved of our marriage."

"That's so sweet," Belle told her.

"Now it is," Mary Margaret agreed, "But while I was going through the whole relationship drama, it felt so hopeless."

"Now, tell me this, did I hear right the other evening," Belle had to ask, "but did Emma call you 'momma'?"

Mary Margaret laughed, "Yeah. When Emma first came into The House she was a hot mess, like this little lost kitten, fierce as she could be, but not much substance. I took her under my wing and helped her get settled in and everything. At some point, she'd said it was like I was her momma and the title just stuck. Of course, then her powers spewed out and it turned out that she was amazingly talented. She and Regina could go head-to-head, I'm telling you."

Belle might have asked more about the different talents of the tenants, but they had pulled into the Earth Fare parking lot.

"Now what are you planning to fix for Mr. G.'s supper?" Mary Margaret asked as they walked into the store and turned toward the fresh produce.

Belle blanched. "I . . . I really don't know what to cook. I. . . I'm not much of a cook."

Mary Margaret turned back to look at the young woman. "Oh dear, honey. I'll help you." And Mary Margaret led her on into the store. "Let me tell you something to begin with. I have seen how the man looks at you. I have heard how he talks about you. He has feelings for you. You could roll it in flour and deep fry cat crap and serve it to that man and he'd be satisfied with it because you fixed it for him. Now, did you have any idea of what you'd like to fix?"

Not deep fried cat crap, thought Belle. "A salad and . . . and. . . something else," Belle suggested tenuously.

"Excellent. Spaghetti is always a good choice for beginning cooks. I know the world's easiest, best-tasting sauce recipe. Let's pick up some fresh veggies and fruit first. Have you thought about a dessert?"

"Well, no," confessed Belle. "I got stuck after coming up with the salad idea."

Mary Margaret took pity on her. "You poor thing. You really don't know what to cook, do you? Let's take it one step at a time."

Mary Margaret helped her pick out simple salad fixings and encouraged her to get some fresh fruit for herself. A couple of other things were picked up to help her with the meal and to give Belle other things to eat besides the processed foods she had picked up when she'd shopped with Ashley.

Once home, Belle put the gun up in her laundry room. She put the bullets in a small drawer in the bathroom. She turned on her radio and unpacked her groceries, putting the items for The Thursday Night Supper aside. She fixed herself a sandwich and ate half of an apple for her supper with a glass of tea. She wrote down Mary Margaret's spaghetti sauce instructions so she wouldn't forget them. She showered and went onto bed thinking over what Mary Margaret had said about shields and True Love.

+ + + Tuesday Morning

Belle had put on her yellow skirt and white top and twisted her hair up. As always, she put on her pink lipstick. As she ran the lipstick over her mouth, she recalled the sensation of his finger on her lips. Then she recalled the sensation of his mouth on her lips and she trembled. She thought about what Mary Margaret had told her, how she had kept thinking about David after they had met, explicit thoughts, erotic thoughts . . . and how they had True Love . . . and how they could get through each other's shields.

She couldn't go so far as to say she and Mr. Gold had True Love or any kind of love for that matter. But they were able to go through each other's shields and she certainly was having those kind of thoughts about Mr. Gold.

Mr. Gold? She didn't even know the man's first name.

He was waiting for her in his shop, his smile gentle, his eyes warm. "Lovely," he greeted her. "I thought we'd walk up to Tupelo Honey for breakfast."

She nodded and managed not to shiver when he took her hand as they walked together up Lexington. It was both a sweet and possessive gesture, and she couldn't find herself objecting to it. Part of the man's appeal was how safe he made her feel. And how aroused he made her feel.

Gold ordered the crab scramble and, at his suggestion, Belle ordered the restaurant's signature sweet potato pancakes.

"How are you bearing up?" he asked her as she dug into the pancakes.

Belle sighed. "All right, I guess."

"Mary Margaret helped you select a gun?"

"Yes, but I am most uncomfortable with a gun, you need to know that," Belle shook her head concerned that her reluctance to manage the weapon would be an issue with him.

"I understand. But I do like for all my people to be able to protect themselves against all sorts of threats. We'll get you out to one of the shooting ranges to work on target practice."

"I'm still not liking it. I can't imagine I'll ever be comfortable with a gun," Belle told him adamantly.

Gold gazed at her. No, such a creature as she was, she would never feel comfortable with a gun. It was, after all, Iron Magic preferred by the dark forces but also managed reasonably well by Neutrals, such as most humans. "I understand, Miss Belle. Perhaps better than you realize," he told her softly.

Belle felt like he did understand her feelings. She paused just a moment, "Mary Margaret said something interesting."

He focused on his food. No telling what outrageous thing Mary Margaret might have said. She was often looked to by the others as a leader, a calm, quiet woman, and a very determined one. She and Gold did not always agree on how things should be done – her light side colliding with his dark side. So far, he had come out on top.

"She said that she and David can get through each other's shields." Belle took another bite of her pancakes.

"Interesting," he replied without committing himself. What?! How come he didn't know this already?!

"She said that you had said that they had True Love."

"Did I? Well, I talk a lot of nonsense sometimes," he told her. Was that the freakin' key?! True Love breaks through shields?! Then that would mean . . .

"I just thought it was interesting," she said off-handedly.

He nodded. Good lord! True Love! Getting through each other's shields! What nonsense!

He and Belle?!

Yes, he had ascertained that they were not able to shield themselves from the other. And he knew that his shields were damn well intact and Marilyn had assured him that Belle had robust shields.

What the hell?

Of course he could admit that he liked the girl, liked how he felt around her, with that empathy thing she had, he felt comfortable. He thought that she liked him. She was certainly grateful to him. She had shared that she enjoyed his company. He had kissed her. She had kissed him back. She had melted in his arms and, contrary to everything he had lived by for the past twenty plus years, he was now having frequent thoughts about how a woman he had known, what now, six days, would be like in his bed.

"It is interesting, but I suspect the skill is more related to your status as an Empath," he managed to say without intonation.

"That's what I thought too," Belle answered him.

They walked back to his shop, him holding her hand again.

She did like him holding her hand. It was strong and she always felt protected when she was with him. The shadows were still around but they stayed away when he was with her. She understood why now. The nasty little things were afraid of him.

As she had on other mornings, Belle dove back into her cleaning job, dusting items and wiping down shelves. Gold sat at the front of his shop hearing her as she worked around in the back of his shop. He had taken to having his morning tea out of the cup he had chipped when he had first realized she was half-fairy. There was something satisfying about the chipped cup. Sitting behind his counter he could hear her as she moved through the place. There were always sounds accompanying her movements. She bumped into things. She clinked things together. She moved heavy things around by pushing on them. This morning he had heard a scraping on the floor and then nothing.

Anytime it got quiet, he became concerned. What had she gotten herself into this time?

He gave it a couple of minutes, but things remained quiet. Too quiet.

Belle had wandered into a room that she had not noticed before. How could she have walked by it before like it wasn't there? It was amazing. A dark, dusty room lit only with the inherent luster of a multitude of metallic objects scattered hither and yon throughout the room. Floor to ceiling dark wooden bookcases, some closed cabinets with tiny locks glinting in the grimy room. There was an old dingy oriental rug on the floor woven with pale golds and rich rusts and chalky browns. There were heavy wooden boxes and cleverly woven baskets stashed on the dark shelves. There were thick leather bound books with golden bindings and lettering. Belle could make out different exotic containers, lidded urns, locked containers of different sorts. As far as she could tell, everything, everything in the room gave off vibes, powerful magical waves of energy. On one wall there were tapestries hung, floor to ceiling. In the dim light, Belle could just barely tell that there were windows high up behind the tapestries. It felt that no one had been in the room in weeks, maybe months.

After a while when there were no further sounds, Gold sighed and got up to investigate. He didn't find Belle on his first trip through the shop, nor on the second, not even the third. He considered. Maybe he could feel where she might be. He closed his eyes. He took a deep breath.

Yes, yes. There she was. She had wandered into the Artifacts Room. It was not a room where just anyone could get into or even notice – like a House within The House. A person had to have a genuine need, a desperate need to get into this room. Almost all of the items in this room were enchanted, a few were outright dangerous. The most magical items he possessed that he hadn't kept for himself were stored in this room.

However had she had made it into this room? He could see her. She had dragged a ladder over to the wall that had been the scraping sound and was tugging on an old tapestry that he had put up over some windows to keep out the sun.

"Oh hullo," she called down to him.

"Whatever are you doing?"

"Trying to get this down. It's so dark in this room and this curtain is absolutely filthy. So many layers of dust. I thought these were hung up but I think they've been nailed to the jams," she told him, still tugging on the tapestry.

"I did that. I couldn't get them to stay up otherwise. It seemed easier," he told her.

She gave him a condescending smile and gave the curtain another strong tug. It gave away and fell away from the window, pulling her along with it. He heard her scream as she fell and, surprising himself with the reflexes of a man much younger, he was able to step in and catch her . . . he actually caught her.

They were both frozen, breathless. She rested in his arms, supported by his strength, his grace.

"Thank you," she managed to say.

His voice stalled in his throat. "I . . . I . . . ."

"You saved me," she told him.

"I . . . I . . . "

"I'll be more careful in the future," she promised him. "You might not be around to catch me."

He continued to stand still.

Impetuously, Belle kissed him on the cheek.

"Belle," he managed to whisper.

She kissed him again on the cheek.

As always thank you to my reviewers (I think I beat out the Out of the Ashes Walmart chapter with this last chapter; I was so excited I had a little moment of incontinence) Cynicsquest, OneMagician (as Intense Guest), juju0268, LynRward, cheesyteal'c, RoxyMoron, Robin4, deweymay, jvbbh12, RaFire, mockorangeflower, thedoctorsgirl42, MyraValhallah, Shadow's Echo, Anne Andrews (Guest), Tinuviel Undomiel, orthankg1, karolprado, Erik'sTrueAngel, spacecats, Grace5231973, emospritelet, Aletta-Feather(9)(and as Which Lesson Guest). SanSon23, Chauchi and Ying-Fa-dono

Guest (confused): I haven't revealed everyone's powers – perhaps, at some point, I can recap what we do know. Marilyn is an OUAT character – I've given her the name of the actress the Disney character was modeled after.

Guest (sh** hooked): I don't think this Gold is as sure of himself as the Gold from Ashes – he's more damaged – and I am pushing his Protective Mode.

NEXT: Belle shows her stuff on sparring night (and some other things I haven't written yet).