SMOKE AND ASHES

A passionate interlude between Gold and Belle has been interrupted by Emma who announced that there had been a daylight attack on herself and David.

Mr. Gold takes Miss Belle out for supper and shares the astonishing news that The House is set next to a portal to the Underworld. On their way back to The House, they are confronted by an old enemy of Gold's, Zelena, who blatantly propositions Gold. He rebuffs her but does not share any details of their previous relationship, except that she was once a resident of The House.

During the first session of sparring as teams, the majority of tenants continue to fight as individuals. Belle finally convinces a most reluctant Gold to allow her a chance to spar and she comports herself admirably, demonstrating her abilities to bounce spells back on their casters and make herself and a companion invisible. At the repeated and urgent requests from his tenants, Gold agrees to spar with Belle.

Chapter 13

Defense

Gold stood on the mat . . . waiting.

"Perhaps we should have a goal, a clear purpose in this fight," he suggested.

Emma, acting as referee, looked around, then looking down, pulled off her watch. She held it up. "How about whoever can get this, wins."

Gold smiled, "Too easy," and he vanished and rematerialized behind Emma, snatching the watch from the upraised hand of the astonished woman.

Emma momentarily closed her eyes, well familiar with Gold's antics and abilities. "All right," she said. "How about you hold onto it and Belle has to get it from you? Will that work?"

Gold shook his head. "Belle, what do you think? You're not strong on attack. You think you can do it?"

Belle was standing about ten paces away from him, her eyes wide and wary. "I don't know," she said honestly. "I can try," and slowly she began to circle him.

Gold bowed and holding up the watch, closed his hand over it and then, with a fanfare and a wave of his hand and a flourish of his fingers, the watch disappeared. "Oh, it's on my person, I promise," he told Belle. Then he said to those watching, "Notice how she does not initiate any action, any attack?" With a slight smirk he asked the audience, "What will she do? Make herself invisible?" and then he threw something sparkling in her direction.

"With this 'dust' she would be visible even if she tried that trick," he told his people.

Belle continued to keep a close eye on his movements, particularly his hands. Then she asked, "Can I get a little help?"

"Sure, what the hell," Gold was not intimidated at all.

Belle looked over at the group and she saw the people she wanted. She wasn't sure that one of them would even be there but, fortunately for her plan, he was.

"Archie," she called out to the shy young man. "Come over here."

Gold was intrigued. Archie had such poor aggressive and attack skills that Gold had not even required him to participate in training. He was surprised the man had shown up that evening.

Archie was obviously nervous but had gotten up to go over to Belle.

"Wha. . . what. . . did you want?" he asked Belle, very uncomfortable about being the center of attention.

No aggressive attack skills at all.

Belle gave Archie a brilliant smile and held up one finger. "I also need Jefferson." The man leapt up and joined the other two.

"However I can be of assistance," he said graciously offering his services and flamboyantly bowing to Belle.

She cast one last glance back at a curious Gold, then she, Jefferson and Archie turned away from him and the rest of the watching group. It took only a bare moment. When they turned around, they were holding hands. Archie had his eyes closed holding onto Belle. With the other hand Belle held onto Jefferson and he stood with his hand out.

"What are they doing?" Milah asked.

"Oh my stars! They're fetching!" Regina exclaimed, sitting up. "Gold can do it, and sometimes Jefferson can if he can see what he's going after, but no one else in this group can manage it."

The watch appeared in Jefferson's hand. He promptly handed it over to Belle who opted to fasten it around her ankle.

The group applauded and Archie, blushing furiously, Belle, beaming, and Jefferson, being Jefferson, all bowed to the group. Then Archie and Jefferson returned to their seats.

Gold's eyes had narrowed. "Impressive." He smiled. Ah my Belle, you can channel, combine powers of others. How rare is that? "Well now," he said. "Let's try something obvious."

And without warning he spun around and sent a blinding flash of light toward Belle which simply passed over her. She stood still and waited for his next effort which came immediately. Gold sent something towards her, a visible wave of power. Belle held up her hands and warded the wave off and it bounced back onto Gold, sending him sprawling. He laughed and pulled himself back up.

"I expected that," he told her and bowed. "But I had to try. Now let's try something else." This time, moving impossibly fast, he rushed her, getting his hands around her neck and pulling her down. She had not been prepared for a physical attack. Belle clawed at his hands but he put his body on top of hers, shifting his hands from her neck to her hands. The posture was disturbingly intimate.

Gold addressed the group, "On that improbable occasion when you encounter someone who is immune to or who can resist or absorb or deflect your magic, it becomes necessary to get absolutely close to them, physically close to them. In this position, my pretty opponent is no more powerful than an ordinary woman.

Belle mischievously lifted her head and managed to place a kiss on his neck. Gold flinched. When Belle licked his neck, he pulled back, his eyes dark. Gold could hear whispered expletives and smothered giggling from the watching group. Belle knew his body had begun to react.

"An unexpected counterattack," he conceded and the corner of his mouth twitched. "This calls for a determined response." He let go of Belle's left hand and caressed her face.

"How long are you going to lie on top of me?" she asked him, loud enough for the others to hear.

"Until you give up the watch," he told her, his hand trailing down her neck and settling on her shoulder. She realized he was trying to distract her and was he ever succeeding.

She shook her head shoring up her determination, "I'm not giving it up. So now what are you going to do?" she asked him defiantly.

"This one's very clever," he announced, glancing at the group. "She's obviously attempting to seduce me."

"Looks like she's succeeding," Jefferson called out to him. "I think you ought to let her do you. What else do you have going on?"

"Oh Jefferson, when a beautiful enemy tries to get you in her bed, it's best to. . . " but Gold did not have a chance to finish his sentence. Belle had managed to use her free hand and reach her mother's pendant. She had pressed it against his chest. Blue energies radiated out and Gold groaned audibly.

The tenants all watching, all stood.

Gold managed to wrench himself away from Belle, letting her go and rolling off of her and away from the offending pendant. Visible waves of energy were coming from his chest and there was a dark singed area on his shirt that was visible to everyone. He slowly pulled himself to his feet. Belle was appalled. Had she hurt him? She hadn't meant to. Her actions had been purely instinctual. She had gotten back to her feet and was circling the man warily. Should she approach him? Check on him?

She stepped towards him, "Are you all right? I didn't mean to hurt you," she was obviously in distress, concerned that she had hurt him.

Gold abruptly dropped to his knees and slumped forward. Belle rushed to him and put her hand on his shoulder.

"Are you all right?" she asked him again.

With a grim smile Gold caught her ankle and pulled off the wristwatch. He then waved his other hand and in response to his effort, chains materialized and wrapped themselves around Belle, pinning her arms to her sides and pulling her upright. She struggled but she couldn't shift the links and she was, for all practical purposes, immobilized.

Gold shook himself, slowly pulled himself up and then ran a hand through his hair. He straightened his jacket and turned back to his little group. "Always be suspicious of your enemy. Never assume they are down or incapacitated. Expect them to turn on you, try to trick you. Ladies and gentlemen, the lessons for the evening are over," he announced and he tossed the watch back to Emma.

They all nodded and slowly made their way down the stairs, talking amongst themselves – mostly about Belle – and made their way back to their apartments. Jefferson lingered.

He glanced over at the subdued and restrained Belle, "Need any help?" he asked Gold.

Gold glared at him. "Do I look like I need assistance?"

"Actually, yeah. She got you. I've never seen anything get to you before . . . but she got you," Jefferson gestured towards the burn mark on Gold's shirt.

"I'll be all right," Gold barked back at him.

"But will she?"

"I'm not going to hurt her," Gold protested.

"You got other plans for her?" Jefferson persisted.

"Go. Away," Gold directed him.

"I'm checking on her tomorrow," promised Jefferson, but he did walk on down the stairs.

Gold sighed and approached Belle who was standing, wrapped in his chains.

"You know I didn't mean to hurt you," she said to him in a small voice.

"You didn't. Your necklace, your mother's necklace did," he told her. "I'll heal."

She watched as his hand began to glow with the same purple light it had when he had healed Emma and David and he waved it across his own chest, across the area that she had pressed the pendant into. It helped but didn't entirely take away the sting. Damned fairy magic!

Gold walked around the little Empath who still stood wrapped snuggly in his magically produced chains.

"You are going to release me?" she asked him.

He didn't respond right away. She could feel him standing behind her. She caught him in the corner of her eye as he walked around her and came to stand in front of her.

"Well, well, my pretty, this is kinda nice. My . . . 'enemy' subdued. . . helpless. . . restrained," he spoke quietly.

If she'd had been able to, she might have stepped away from the man. There was a glint in his eye that alarmed her.

"Are you angry with me?" she asked.

He just smiled at her. His hand traced down her face and tilted her chin up so that she had to look him in the eyes. "You are so beautiful," she heard him mummer and then he was kissing her, pulling her to him, holding her. She relaxed into him, kissing him back, frustrated that she couldn't hold him, wrap her arms around him.

And then the chains were gone and she was able to put her arms around him, able to hold him closer to her, able to move her hands along his shoulders and down his back. He felt so strong, so capable.

He talked softly, "You surprised me, Belle. I'm not surprised very often. You apparently can reflect . . . repel magic. That's a neat trick. I know people who can block magic with a counterspell, but no one who can just shoo it away, certainly no one who can bounce it back onto the spell caster. And you can make yourself invisible. I suspected as much when you were dealing with the bocan, but it is impressive to see that talent in action. And you took Milah with you – that's very powerful, Belle. And you can combine your abilities with others and channel them. That's very, very rare and very, very extraordinary. I. am. impressed."

"But you still won," she pointed out.

"Only because I ended the game," he told her.

"Well, I don't think I could have figured out how to have gotten out of those chains," she admitted.

"You'd have figured something out," he told her generously.

He offered his arm and led her back to her apartment. Outside of her door he held her and kissed her again, thoroughly, as if he didn't care if anyone saw them because he didn't care if anyone saw them. There was a pause if he asked her if he could come in . . . .

But he didn't. He kissed on her forehead and said, "Breakfast," and then left her.

He knew she would have allowed him inside her little apartment and he so wanted to go in. But it was too soon. There was a sympathetic part of him that was well aware that he fascinated the sheltered young woman why and how this was happening, he had no idea, that she had no defenses against his slow seduction although frankly he was surprised to fing he had slow seduction techniques in his limited repertoire, and he knew he was ruthlessly exploiting her innocence that he was capable of ruthless exploitation didn't surprise him. He would sometimes feel guilty but there was a cold, cynical portion of his brain that discounted his responsibility. She was, after all, a grown woman. She was also half-Fae, related to Those Bitches. And he was not her father.

However, what kept him from going in to her apartment tonight was his responsibility to another tenant – Milah. He connected with Marilyn in the Map Room.

"Well?"

"It went well," Marilyn told him. "She was sulky and sullen, as you had said she would be, but I complimented her a couple of times."

"How did that work?"

"No difference but then I hinted that you would be pleased if she made some real progress."

"And?"

"That did it," Marilyn answered. "She settled in and . . . "Marilyn paused.

"And?"

"She's modestly talented but not remarkably so. She does well with lightning, which you already knew. She's able to call up wind and clouds, which you also knew. I also got her to make it brighter, darker, colder, hotter. She can make it rain and she managed a little hail. With a little work I think she'll be able to manage a mini-tornado."

"But why is she here?" Gold asked.

"I don't know," Marilyn told him. "Weather witches are great in farm communities and if you're planning an outdoor picnic, but they aren't usually part of a defense or an attack team, like all of your other people are."

"There has to be a reason," Gold said, as much to himself as to the little Fae who sat opposite him. He didn't exactly like her, but he did respect her. Those Bitches had taken her wings from her. Just because she had disagreed with their treatment of him. She had gotten cast out. He'd reconnected with her once he'd been set up in Asheville to see if there was anything she needed. She'd been in and out of his life since. Not a friend exactly, but certainly not an enemy.

"And it will become apparent in due time, I'm sure," Marilyn assured him. "Now, tell me more about Miss Belle, your Empath, your half-fairy Empath."

Gold looked over at her debating how much to divulge. "She stumbled into the shop about a week ago. She doesn't share much about herself. I suspect her family is well-to-do and she's running away as an expression of rebellion."

"Do you know who her mother is?"

"She gave me the impression that her mother is dead," Gold told her.

Marilyn looked at him. "You know better than that, if her mother was a Fae. . . "

"She's probably still alive," finished Gold making eye contact with the green-eyed ex-fairy.

"You like her," Marilyn observed.

Gold shrugged.

"You like her," Marilyn said again.

"I do, but you know my history with your people and with women in general."

Marilyn smiled at him. "We're not all bitches trying to get something from you," Marilyn told him.

Gold nodded, "But how do I tell you apart?" he asked.

"Listen to your heart," Marilyn advised. "Believe in something other than yourself."

He laughed bitterly. "I think your work here is done, Marilyn."

Marilyn shrugged and stood. "I am not your enemy, Gold."

He sat still for a long moment. "I know." Changing the subject, he asked, "How did it go for you?"

"He wasn't all that happy to see me again. I think I interrupted a date. I ended up staying with Mary Margaret and David," she sighed, "I think I'm over him. He turned out to be a jerk."

"That surprised you?"

"No, I know he prides himself on being a ladies' man. And . . . and he's moved on. He likes Emma and Milah now; I'm part of his past."

"You're better off without him," Gold told the Fae.

"I know you have never liked the man. But, the heart wants what the heart wants," Marilyn said, shaking her head. "Perhaps I've been around you too long. I don't seem to have good luck with the opposite sex. I don't understand it. Usually my kind can seduce a human in a heartbeat."

"You're too nice," Gold explained things to her. "You don't want to just use another person. I have faith, Marilyn, the right man is out there for you."

She sighed and told him, "I'll be leaving in the morning, but I'll be around if you need me."

"I'll clap my hands three times and say 'I believe in fairies,' if I need you again," he told her, smiling at her.

"You take care of yourself and my little 'cousin'," she said as she headed out the door.

+ + + Wednesday Morning

Gold was waiting for Belle. She had put on her black skirt and the pink top. She had put her hair up on her head and had left a few stray curls around her neck. As always, she looked very fresh and very, very appealing.

"Where to this morning?" she asked. "I'm thinking we've about exhausted the places to get breakfast that we can walk to."

"Almost. We're on to the City Bakery."

"Nice," Belle said and she reached for his arm as they walked up Hiawassee to get onto Broadway (which changed into Biltmore). The City Bakery was beyond Alston so they had several blocks in the crisp air to walk. Belle looked around as they walked. Apparently the boogies and powries and what all were not early risers – she felt safe in the morning air.

"Has Mary Margaret corralled you into her self-defense class?" he asked Belle as they walked along.

"She has. I'm really nervous," she confessed.

"Why should you be nervous? You've shown that you are more than capable of kicking their arses . . . and mine too.

Belle pulled a face, "This is different. And, I can't kick anybody's . . . arse."

"Well they think you can. That's just as good."

"But. . . but. . . " Belle stammered. "I'm not a fighter."

"You're right. You're talents are still defensive, but they're pretty awesome, my dear. You're able to use them as offensive weapons against an aggressive enemy."

In the small restaurant, Gold ordered the smoked salmon with cream cheese on a bagel. He watched Belle salivate over her chocolate croissant, licking the croissant, licking her fingers. He momentarily drifted off considering how much he might like drizzling warm chocolate over her firm little body and licking it off of her.

He suddenly realized that she was talking. Something about the menu for their Thursday Night Dinner.

What?! He didn't care if she deep fried cat crap and served it to him. He was going to be in her apartment.

They would have magical sparring practice afterwards. Perhaps he could wrangle an invitation back down to her apartment after practice. Maybe he should get some Hersey's chocolate sauce and bring it with him – was she planning a dessert?

Oh, she was still talking.

Belle realized that he wasn't listening. His eyes had darkened over and she had a general sense of where his thoughts had gone. She knew he had watched her closely as she had eaten the chocolate croissant and she knew when she'd licked the chocolate from her fingers that she'd had his complete attention.

She wondered how it would be to get him out of that suit and his shirt and that body hugging undershirt he wore and drip chocolate on his chest. Maybe drip it in little drops and then she could put her mouth over each drip, heating up the sauce before slurping it off. She smiled at him.

"Would you allow me to bring dessert?" he asked interrupting her thought process. He had become aware that she was no longer talking and that her own eyes had darkened.

"Maybe something with chocolate?" she suggested.

"No problem," he answered in a whisper.

+ + + The Shop. . . That Day

Belle had bolstered herself up and had gone back into the Artifacts Room, pulling down all the heavy dirty curtains. The man had again managed to give her a lot to think about, a lot to preoccupy her. He hadn't needed to warn her not to touch anything in the room. Some of the things filled her with dread, others had siren calls suggesting, pleading with her for attention.

It creeped her out, the whole room creeped her out. She took the curtains and, with his blessing, discarded them. He could see how the items in the room bothered her and suggested that she not bother with cleaning this room, or at least only dust rather than clean under and around everything. He could tell she was debating if she would be fulfilling her contract with him by not doing a thorough cleaning but opted to follow his suggestion. Soon enough she was back in the main part of the shop.

The day was inconsequential with only Jefferson dropping by to check on Belle mid-morning.

"I'm fine," she assured him.

"Well, I didn't think he was going to beat you. I was more concerned that he'd . . . uh. . . he'd . . ."

Belle didn't say anything, just held the young man in her steady gaze. She knew exactly what Jefferson was getting at but was too uncomfortable to bring up. She actually experienced some enjoyment watching him stammer and flush. After watching him a while, she finally took pity on him, "He didn't force himself on me. He was the perfect gentleman."

"You mean he didn't even kiss you goodnight?" Jefferson just blurted out.

Now it was Belle's turn to flush and stammer, "He. . . uh. . . he . . . we . . . uh. . . "

"You two are snogging aren't you?" Jefferson followed up.

Belle dropped her gaze and smiled at him, "Just kissing. That's all," she answered him.

Jefferson accepted this and gave her one of his own charming smiles, "The man's a fool if he hasn't felt you up."

Belle shook her head at the irrepressible young man and did her best to admonish him but ended up giggling.

"You have friends here Belle. A lot of us like you," he said as a parting comment.

Warmed by his words and his concern, Belle had lunch, and later, supper in her own room. She was getting nervous about having Mr. Gold over for supper the following evening. The living room and kitchen areas were already quite tidy and clean. She'd gotten her clothes hung up in the bedroom and that room also looked very nice would he be seeing this room? There was little else to clean in her apartment besides the bathroom. She quickly took care of that. Satisfied that all she would have to do was the cooking, she put on one of her original pairs of blue jeans and went on up to the roof.

Mary Margaret was already there and welcomed Belle with a smile.

"Show me what you got," Mary Margaret directed her.

"What do I do?" Belle asked. She'd trained with the bodyguards her father had put with her; no serious physical activity. She'd never liked the self-defense training classes but had dutifully participated to please her father.

"Well, let's see if you can break some simple holds," and Mary Margaret grabbed her by the wrist. The old training set in and Belle immediately pulled in the direction of Mary Margaret's thumb, breaking the hold.

Mary Margaret was surprised. "Very good." She stepped back. "Let's see if you can block some punches."

And again the old training set in and Belle blocked and stepped aside each time.

By now they had an audience, including Gold.

Mary Margaret ramped it up and became increasingly aggressive with punches and kicks and combinations. Belle was able to avoid, parry, or block every attack.

Mary Margaret finally, out of breath, hung back. "You're great on defensive moves," she pronounced. "Any offensive moves?"

Belle shrugged.

"All right, then have at me," Mary Margaret directed her.

Belle immediately performed a snap side kick aimed at the side of Mary Margaret's knee. Mary Margaret was quick enough to avoid the kick, but someone without her preternatural powers might not have been. Belle stepped back a moment and went very still.

Mary Margaret stood in a limber posture, balanced, waiting for the other woman to make a move.

When it came, it was lightning fast, a high jumping spinning kick and Mary Margaret, for all her natural talent, for all her precognition, wasn't able to totally avoid the vicious kick.

Mary Margaret ducked, but the kick brushed her. She rolled away from Belle.

Everyone in the little audience gasped. They had never seen anyone (besides Gold who fought with magic) get a connect on Mary Margaret.

Mary Margaret had pulled herself to a stand. She was laughing. "Girl, you are good," she pronounced.

Belle was allowed to sit on the sidelines for a while. She caught Gold looking at her with an appreciative look in his eyes.

Gold resisted the clamor for him to spar. With a flourish, he pointed to his cane as his excuse, "I guess, I'll have to rely on my magic." He finished watching the self-defense practice in silence.

Belle had surprised him . . . yet again. Remarkable self-defense skills and incredible fighting skills. He knew Mary Margaret's limits well and he had been able to get contact with her but he had to slow her down magically. Belle may have done something akin to this when she had that little pause right before attacking. Or maybe she had psychic-ly fed Mary Margaret some scenario but then had acted against it.

Every day he was increasingly impressed with this young woman.

He had every intention of walking Belle back down to her apartment but when he looked around, she had disappeared. He hadn't seen her go off with the other women.

He stopped and felt around The House. She was below him. In the Map Room.

What was she doing in the Map Room?

He went downstairs and silently opened the door to the work center for The House and stepped in without making a sound.

The room was quite dark except for a light on over the library area. He didn't see her at first, his ordinary vision not penetrating the dense shadows of the room. She wasn't over by the Map, in the sit-down conference area or standing by the pentagram. She was. . . there she was! along the side of the room . . . amongst the books.

He watched her for a moment without making his presence known.

She was . . . foraging . . . there in the books.

What was she doing?

She would pull out the random volume, thumb through it, replace it onto the shelf and then pick out another volume and do the same. She would sometimes put a book back onto a different shelf. She would sometimes smell the book.

"These are all mixed up."

He startled. She had spoken aloud. Had she known he was there?

"There's no organization, no apparent system, they're not alphabetized by title, by author's name. Nothing. They seem to just be randomly shoved onto the shelves. Some of these books are more than a hundred years old. They should be archived and set up . . ." she trailed off as he came up behind her and put his arms around her waist.

"I don't recall that you were hired as The House's librarian," he whispered in her ear.

"I wasn't. But I remember seeing these books the other evening and I thought I'd look through them to find something to read. These all seem to be about magic and casting spells and beings like demons and such. Nothing I particularly want to read to go bed with."

He breathed in her personal fragrance. "You know I've got some books down in the shop. You found that Jane Austin and I know there are some others."

She was leaning back into his arms, luxuriating in his heat, his warmth, the slightly spicy, deliciously masculine scent he exuded, the sense of safety he projected. She focused herself, "But I need to find out more about all this magic stuff that I've suddenly fallen into. I've looked over all of these and I'm just overwhelmed. I don't know where to start. Which one do I read first?"

Reluctantly, he released her and looked over the books, selecting, then discarding several before handing her one. "This might be a good place to start."

It was a volume called The Unseen World.

"It's a general introduction to a number of magical creatures that are . . . well, that are out there," he gestured vaguely. "Of course, if you just want a regular book, you could be like a regular person and go and get a regular library card. The library is easy walking distance, on Haywood."

"Yes! I forgot you got me some identification now. I can get a library card. I wonder how late they're opened!" She sighed, "I bet they're already closed." She stood up straight, clutching the volume he'd handed her to her chest. "Well, I've got this for tonight." She started out the door, stopped and turned back to him, "Thanks. I appreciate your help," and she stood on her toes to give him a kiss on the cheek.

He debated grabbing her but instead, "If you like, you can take on the job of straightening these out," he said off-handedly.

"Really?!" her eyes lit up as if he had offered her a treat. "I'll do it after hours so it won't interfere with my work in your shop. I promise, I'll do a good job. Thank you, thank you, thank you," and she threw her arms around him and hugged him, then scampered out of the Map Room with her book.

He stood a moment. She had reacted like he'd offered her chocolate . . . straightening out these hundreds, many hundreds, hell, maybe thousands . . . of books. Of course they would benefit from being organized – he wouldn't have to shuffle and spend forever looking for a specific volume when the occasion arose.

He shook his head and was about to turn off the single light above the Library area to return to his own apartment when, "Well, that was just delightful."

It was a sultry female voice.

He whirled around and he noticed for the first time, sitting in a far dark corner behind the Map Table with several city maps out in front of her, was Regina. She stood up and sauntered over to him, "So it's true. You and the little maid, huh? I see why Milah never had any luck with you. You like 'em young and innocent."

Gold didn't respond to the woman as she walked towards him.

Regina was shaking her head, "I don't get it. OK, you have a certain appeal . . . maybe . . . perhaps . . if a girl's just gotten off a desert island, had too much to drink, and is deaf, dumb, blind, stupid and unable to smell. You have that whole power-thing going for you. But take that away and you're just a scrawny reptilian opportunistic blowhole."

"Well, I'm flattered, but not interested," Gold responded shortly, turning his attention away from Regina.

"Oh please, I am neither my mother nor my sister, Gold. I've no interest in you. But I am curious as to why you've allowed this particular relationship with your little maid to have developed. I would think that you wouldn't want to have anything to do with any woman. You've got plenty of reasons not to trust us."

"What makes you think I have a relationship with Miss Belle?"

"Oh dear lord! Who doesn't think you have a relationship with Miss Belle? You've been seen in public holding hands with the little chit. And after that gleeful celebration I just witnessed! With the little kiss on the cheek and the 'thank you, thank you, thank you' . . . gag. Oh wait, I guess that's what she does when you stick your tongue down her throat. I understand what you're getting out of the relationship, but what the hell does she get?"

Gold shrugged. "I ask myself that all the time. Why don't you ask Miss Belle?"

Regina smiled at him. "I just may do that. I just may do that," she told him and started for the door. Unable to resist giving him a parting shot, she asked him, "Does she have any idea of what you look like when the Armani armor comes off, Rumple? When you are left standing in . . . shall we say . . . a certain light?" She left him alone in the Map Room.

Thanks to all my great reviewers (the old and the new). You always help me stay focused, often give me new ideas for expanding on details in the story and, truth be told, I really like reading the kind, generous comments so many of you make: Erik'sTrueAngel, RaFire, cheesyteal'c, RoxyMoron, karolprado, orthankg1, Guest (NO NO NO), emospritelet, jewel415, spacecats, OneMagician, Vampireguardian, LynRward, deweymay, Robin4, juju0268, Anne Andrews (Guest), MyraValhallah, Chauchi, thedoctorsgirl42, Grace5231973, Aletta-Feather and AngelApple70X7.

I'm so glad people seem to be enjoying this tale – there's a turn that will be coming up in a couple of chapters, so hang on.

NEXT: Thursday Night Dinner and an Unexpected Complication (well, maybe not so unexpected for several of you who, long ago, correctly predicted a Little Problem).