SMOKE AND ASHES

Following a harrowing inadvertent poisoning Incident, Gold and Belle have shared a breakfast together with Gold truly enjoying her company (although not her cooking). Lovecraft The Cat joins them and shows affection towards Belle who clearly returns the feeling. Before they can leave his apartment, Lovecraft jumps onto a box, a box that has mysteriously drawn Belle, giving her strong psychic vibes. Reluctantly Gold opens the box and reveals a scroll, a scroll that Belle tells him she has seen a twin of in a library near her home. Gold is extremely interested in her revelation.

As they're leaving to go down to Gold's shop, Belle talks him into remaining in the casual jeans and tee-shirt attire he put on for their breakfast (to the delight or consternation of various female tenants).

Throughout the day, Belle receives presents, including chocolates and a smart phone both of which he'd planned to give her even before The Incident. Gold also gives her a Forgive Me Flowers bouquet and his prized copy of Pride and Prejudice which are Please, Please, Please Forgive Me gifts). She repeatedly reassures him that she has forgiven him for his indiscretion and invites him back to her apartment to have the dessert that was forgone prior to The Incident.

They begin to confess their mutual attraction.

Chapter 17

Fun and Games

OK there is a little smut in the first section (skip that if it's not your thing). Pick the story up at Morning After.

"I should probably tell you that I have designs on your person," Gold confessed, "dark designs," he promised.

Belle paused, then smiled, "I'm wondering if your designs on my person are anything like the designs I have on your person." And she moved in to kiss him on the mouth while pulling on his teeshirt. He allowed her to take the lead, helping her to remove his teeshirt. She would kiss him on his neck and his shoulders. Once the teeshirt came off, he could feel her lips and tongue on his body, tentatively touching and tasting him. He gently put his hands on the bottom of her tank top and drew it up over her body and head.

Her interest was heightened, but Belle hesitated when she got to his jeans. Innocent she might be, but not completely naïve. She could tell that he was aroused, a definite bulge pushing against the zipper of the tight, form-fitting denims, but her inexperience wafted over her, paralyzing her, and she glanced up at him.

"It's all right, my Belle," he told her softly. "We'll go at your pace. Belle, my sweet girl, would you mind if I touch you, just a bare brush?" he trailed his fingers against her forehead.

Belle shook her head, "You can touch me anyway you want to," she told him. "But I want. . . I want . . ." she wasn't sure what she wanted.

But he knew. He shifted her body so that she was lying with her back up against him, affording him access to her pert breasts and to the more sensitive juncture between her legs. He removed her bra causing her to blush even in the half-light of the dimly lit room.

"I hurt when I'm with you," she told him whispering. "There is this ache, this something I need that I. . . I don't understand."

"I know what you need," he told her and gently he set his palm on her stomach over her skirt. He placed small kisses down the side of her neck feeling her begin to shiver. He brought his other hand up to her breast and was satisfied to feel her lift her body into his hand. He then dropped the hand on her stomach bringing it closer to her core. "I want to finish what we started in the Artifact's Room when we got interrupted. If you want me to slow down or stop, you let me know."

Belle looked up at him. "Why ever would I want you to stop? I've been having dreams about you touching me. Sometimes when we're in the shop, I start thinking about you touching me and how wonderful it felt. And," here she blushed, again, and dropped her eyes and lowered her voice, "I keep thinking about how much I want to touch you."

Gold was already uncomfortably hard and hearing that she returned his baser feelings, along with all her high and noble feelings too, he had to grit his teeth to retain his composure. He knew Belle was quite the innocent and wanted her to experience satisfaction from his hands first. But at this rate, he was likely to lose control just with her rubbing her delectable little bottom against him she seemed completely unaware of what she was doing.

He managed to get out, "We'll start with you first. There will be other nights and other opportunities," he promised her.

Belle closed her eyes and relaxed herself against him. His lips were kissing her along her chin, down her neck, and at that most sensitive place where her neck and shoulder came together. One of his hands was lightly rubbing her breasts, arousing her nipples, caressing, lifting, sometimes gently squeezing.

But it was what his other hand was doing that had her complete attention. He had reached under her skirt and with just a little coaxing had managed to remove her plain cotton panties. She was embarrassed that they were wet and apologized.

"I'm sorry. I don't understand what happens, but when I'm around you, I seem to . . . well, my panties seem to get wet. It happens a lot."

He stopped for a moment. Where . . . How had she been raised without knowing what that meant? Had she not had any girlfriends who had shared their own tawdry back-seat-of-a-car experiences? How was it possible that she had been so sheltered? As much reading as she had done, had there been no naughty books?

"My dearest Belle. When you are. . . "no that wouldn't do. . .

"When a woman likes a man . . ." no, now he sounded like a professor. . .

He wasn't sure how to explain it. It would just make things so much easier when the time came for him to stick his. . . . no, that wouldn't work at all.

"Belle, this is what is supposed to happen," he settled on a simple affirmation.

"So it's all right?"

"It's all right," and he pulled her back down on him. He went slowly. Touching her thighs, touching her stomach, touching the mass of chestnut curls, carefully nudging her legs apart. Belle was wiggling and one of her hands landed on the outside of his thigh and clasped his thigh.

"Belle," he whispered. "I want to put my hand between your legs. I won't hurt you, but I want to touch you."

Trusting him, she slowly drew her legs apart, one of them dropping off the side of the sofa they were sprawled upon to allow him better access.

Excellent. And for a while he simply stroked her, petting her, rubbing her without attempting to explore her folds or the sweet opening that was oozing with her own special honey. "I'm just using some light pressure on you, Belle, finding my way around you, watching to see what your body likes," he was whispering now, using his kindest, most persuasive voice.

She was very wet, indeed, and as her moisture coated his fingers he was able to slip into her valleys and brush against her clit, already so swollen it was peeking out from her labia. She cried out when he grazed her and he pulled her snugly against him.

"You seemed to like that," he told her. He allowed her to relax again, sinking into him, her body softening, becoming more receptive. "I want to try some other things, my Belle. I'm going to put a finger inside you. We'll see if you like that," and slowly he inserted one finger into her very tight channel.

"Oh my," she was gasping and unwittingly tightened her muscles around his finger.

"Oh my," he echoed her words with a reprehensible sense of pleasure. She was impossibly tight. He was already struggling with keeping himself under control, and, unbidden, his imagination immediately speculated on how it would feel to have that snug little passage squeezing his cock. This was enough to send him over the edge – almost. He had a wait a moment to calm himself before he could proceed. Slowly, he gently continued caressing her, moving his finger in and out and using his thumb to tease her engorged feminine bud. "I'm going to use a little more pressure to see if perhaps you like that." He heard her whimper and her breathing quicken.

He wished he could see what was happening, but having to rely on just his sense of touch gave him a different focus, one that, he was surprised to find, was working quite well. Making sure she was well lubricated he began to use his thumb to provide firmer pressure around her around her now hardened clit, rubbing along both sides. "I like touching you here, feeling your reactions, knowing you're responding to me, enjoying what I'm doing," he was still whispering to her, his breath caressing her neck. He could feel her beginning to pull back, a frenetic sense of urgency beginning to over-take her, her body beginning to clench as her blood began to pool in her core.

"Something's happening," she gasped out and he continued with his firm pressure. He touched her mind and knew she was very close.

"Belle my dearest darling, come for me. Come for me, now," he told her, twisting her around to take her mouth with his all the while as his fingers continued with their firm, unrelenting pressure, directly caressing her clit.

There was a soft cry and she broke like a wave against him, her body tightening and releasing itself against his hand. He kept up the pressure allowing her to feel every last pulse and spasm.

She was panting and nearly crying, clinging onto him as she could.

"That was . . . amazing," she finally managed to tell him.

"It was," he agreed. It was. He'd never felt with any woman what he was feeling with this woman. She was so beautiful, so giving. He felt treasured and blessed . . . and he had never felt this way.

She snuggled into him rolling over so that she was lying on her side against him. She seemed dazed and it took her a moment to pull herself back together.

"Can I do that to you?" she finally asked him. She gently laid her hand on his pants, directly onto his hardened, fully erect cock and it was his turn to flinch.

He stammered, "Eh. . . Belle. . . I'm pretty close . . . just holding you and helping you along . . I. . . uh. . . I . . ." He felt her little hand seek him out and attempt to curl around him but she was thwarted by his snug jeans. He found that speech had deserted him.

"Is this what you need me to do?" she asked. She bit her lip and brushed him with the palm of her hand, rubbing along his jeans. He had gotten very still. She took a deep breath and encouraged herself to be brave. Freshly determined, she unfastened and then unzipped his jeans. Taking another deep breath, she reached in and she found him, guiding him out of his pants and wrapping her hand around his turgid member. He went rigid and she stopped, afraid that she had displeased him. "Is this all right?" she asked.

Nearly blinded with his own pleasure, he somehow managed to grunt an affirmation.

Mimicking his actions on her, she began to move her hand up and down, slowly, the sheer heat, the weight of the organ surprising her. She had a dozen questions but sensed this was likely not the best time to ask the man.

"I'm going to try a little faster," she told him and noticed that he was lying back with his eyes closed. It felt wonderful to have this powerful, clever man lying on her sofa, his fate, as it were, in her hand. He did seem to like what she was doing.

She had a sudden idea, not quite sure where it had come from. She leaned over and while she was holding him in her hand, she gently put her mouth over the head of his cock.

For Gold feeling her lips on him was too much. Unable to stop the organism that was crashing through him, he sat up, pushing her away and just managed to hold the little coverlet over himself while he spewed forth in several long streams, spilling himself into the blanket.

"Good lord woman!" he said as his eyes uncrossed and speech returned. "Whatever possessed you to try oral on me right at that point?"

"Did I do wrong? I'm sorry," she apologized, her blue eyes large with repentance.

"Nothing wrong. I just wasn't expecting someone with your lack of experience to go down on me."

"So it wasn't wrong?" she didn't know. She really didn't know.

"It was . . . unexpected. You certainly aren't very good at being a virgin. You never cease to surprise me, Belle. I wasn't expecting you to touch me and certainly not to do that last bit." He was examining his clothes. No, the jeans definitely needed to go into the wash. He managed to strip them off, but opted to leave on his boxers. He dropped the jeans and the blanket by the side of the sofa.

"Belle," he said. "Let's get another blanket and we can sit back down on this sofa for a little while?"

"I can do that," she told him grateful for the darkness of the room. She felt awkward dressed only in her skirt, but was able to retrieve a second blanket from the floor next to the sofa and pull it up and over them.

Putting the pillows on one end, he lay down and motioned for her to lie down with him. He covered them up. He pulled her skirt off her hips and down her legs, leaving her naked and pressed in against his body. He pulled her next to him and gave her a gentle goodnight kiss.

"Belle, you did everything right," she heard him whisper and she drifted off to sleep in his embrace.

+ + + Morning After

Belle stirred and she found herself still wrapped in his warm, spicy embrace. He had spent the night, with her, on her sofa, in her apartment.

She had no idea of the time but judged by the little bit of light creeping in that it was very early morning.

He felt her stirring, squirming around, her luscious little body curled up against his. He took a deep breath. He'd awakened in a state of. . . interest, his usual early morning status. But there were time pressures and personal restrictions - a lot of personal restrictions. He was determined not to rush Belle or force himself upon her or do anything that might threaten their fragile, budding relationship. This was, by far, the classiest woman he'd ever been involved with and he was quite unsure of how best to proceed, but he did know that he wanted to proceed. He thought that slow and steady was better than fast and pressured.

All right, so he had imposed his desire for her to sleep stripped of her clothing, but she hadn't objected and didn't seem all that put out by his request. It had been delicious. He'd been able to touch her all through the night just as he wanted to.

Belle had rolled over and was looking up at him. "You look very nice in the morning. I like this," and she dragged the back of her fingers across his chin.

"You like that I need to shave?"

She shrugged. "I like it. I like you in a suit, but this is nice too. It gives you a bit of different look. A bit rugged, not so prim and proper."

"I'm prim and proper?" he asked, surprised. Other women had called him scruffy and uncouth and barely presentable. Belle liked both his suited look and his more casual morning self.

"You're very prim and proper," Belle told him and whispered in his ear, "And I like that look too."

He was going to have one tough time getting off of the sofa.

Belle continued, "I guess we need to get up and get breakfast if you've got that eight o'clock meeting we all have to get to. Or do we get breakfast after?"

He leaned over to the little table and looked at his watch. It was 6:00. "We have enough time to grab showers and get a breakfast before we need to show up, if we get up now."

He could tell Belle was debating. "All right. I guess we need to get up. Shall I shower first or do you want to go first? Or do we . . . shower together?" she asked hesitantly.

He considered. Pertinent little minx. The image of her lush little body all soaped up, slick and wet . . . . "I think I'll shower first, then I can fix breakfast for us while you shower."

He'd stumbled into her bathroom, expecting it to be full of rose and vanilla scented shampoos and soaps but found only simple, unscented supplies. Just a few things and nothing fancy.

Well, he thought, that needed to be corrected. She deserved the finest soaps and shampoo and good lord, that meant her exquisite rose and vanilla scent was her own.

He realized he didn't have clean clothes to put on and he knew without asking that Belle would not be able to supply him anything to wear. She didn't even have a bathrobe. He shrugged and with some distaste, he put his clothes from the previous evening back on. He gave her a quick kiss and sent her into the shower while he rummaged through her refrigerator and under her counters. Finding some suitable ingredients, he began by prepping some onions, peppers and some sliced ham, cutting them up and lightly frying them. He then put this mixture aside to add into some eggs for an omelet. He toasted and buttered some of her bread and fixed coffee for both of them. Belle had some apples in the fridge, so he cut them up and began to sauté them, adding a little sugar as they began to soften and cook down. He foraged around in her cabinets and pulled out some plates and cutlery. When he heard the shower stop, he combined his omelet ingredients and began to cook the eggs.

By the time Belle reappeared, wearing her black skirt and a blue top, he was plating the food. When he looked up he nearly stopped breathing. Her beautiful hair lay plastered to her head and fell down her neck in wet curls. She had put on the pink lipstick and looked incredibly fresh and wholesome.

"You look beautiful," he said without thinking.

"Thank you. You're always so sweet," she told him. "I think you look very nice yourself." She looked over what he'd fixed for breakfast. "How'd you do an omelet without an omelet pan?"

"Practice."

"This is really good," she told him taking a bite.

"Part of the trick is cooking the onions and peppers a bit before adding them to the raw egg mixture," he explained.

"And your toast is so good and the coffee is delicious. And look at these apples! They're sweet and yummy," Belle suddenly looked at him, "I can't cook, can I?"

"You're a beginner cook, Belle. You're still learning."

"That's nice of you to say. But I burn stuff, undercook stuff, forget to turn on the oven, leave out major ingredients or mix up ingredients. I'm hopeless," she told him dejectedly.

"Belle, if you like, we can start cooking some meals together and I'll teach you what I know. I've had a couple of hundred years to get good at it," he told her.

"Would you? That would be wonderful," and she glowed¸ her smile lighting up her face. . . and his morning.

He helped her clean up and then let her know he'd need to go up to his apartment to shave and change. He considered asking her if he could keep a razor and a change of clothes in her apartment, but he didn't. Afraid of rushing things.

"If you have an extra, I wouldn't mind it if you kept a razor and a change of clothes here," she told him shyly before he left.

He paused, "I'll think about it." He gave her a quick kiss on the mouth before leaving.

Going out her door, he removed the heavy stone-wall wards he'd put on the door to forestay interruptions. As he stepped out of Belle's apartment he encountered Jefferson.

Jefferson . . . who was leaving Emma's apartment.

"Good morning," he greeted the younger man.

"I'd say it is," Jefferson agreed.

The two men started up the stairs together.

"Pleasant evening?" Jefferson asked him.

Gold nodded. "And you?"

"The coffee and diner thing worked out pretty well, except it turned out to be a beer and diner thing. Several beers, in fact. At the diner and then, back here."

"And Miss Swan didn't think you were safe to walk up one flight of stairs back to your own apartment?" Gold inquired.

Jefferson grinned, "Something like that."

They began the flight of stairs to the next level.

"You think you apologized enough to Miss Belle?" Jefferson asked him.

"She seems. . ." Oh lord, he couldn't say 'satisfied.' "to have forgiven me."

They were up to the third floor, Jefferson's floor. Jefferson turned to him before starting down the hall to his own apartment, "You have some lipstick here," and he pointed to his own lips. "Nice pink color, but not your shade."

"Thank you," Gold told him and, wiping his mouth, continued on up the stairs to his apartment.

+ + + + Planning

"Why are we all here?" Ruby asked yawning. They weren't used to getting together Saturdays. They got together Tuesdays, Wednesday, Thursdays and Sunday afternoon. What was up with this Emergency Saturday Morning Meeting?

Everyone was gathered around the Map Room conference table. On the table was a plain wood box. To the potent magic users of the group, the box emanated waves of power and energy.

To the others, the sheer simplicity of the box suggested something vaguely sinister. Too plain, too simple, too innocuous to be anything but a subversion, a subterfuge, a trick.

They talked quietly among themselves. Gold had never called them all in for an emergency meeting. Most were dressed for their own amusements, their own pastimes, this was their time, their own free time.

Ruby was wearing an amazingly short black leather skirt with stockings that sported faux garters and thigh-highs coupled with spiked patent leather heels. She was topped off with a glittery red halter. Milah was dressed similarly with fishnets and a blue vinyl zippered affair. The two had just gotten in from their Friday night trolling and hadn't been to bed.

Emma was to go on duty later that morning and had gone ahead and dressed in her full regalia proclaiming her an officer of the law. She had a couple of hours before she needed to report to work.

Regina was also dressed for the office, in a tight grey pencil skirt and jacket, working on Saturday as if it was just another day.

The others had casual clothes, jeans, oversized tops, tennis shoes, clothes suited for running errands, cleaning up an apartment or working on other weekend chores.

Belle sat in the chair that Gold had put her in after the first disastrous attack of the shadows. When Gold came in, he had shaved and changed from the casual jeans and tee-shirt. He was now dressed in a black suit with a deep navy shirt. He looked elegant and exuded a dark, threatening power.

"We have a new mission," he announced abruptly. "We are going to retrieve a scroll and part of a broken dagger from a guarded, high security vault."

Belle looked at him, opened-mouth.

"A heist?!" Killian was amazed and excited.

"I will not be taking everyone on this trip," Gold squashed him.

"Where will we be going?" David asked.

"To a small country on the Mediterranean. You may have never heard of it - Avonleigh," Gold replied.

"Where?" "I've never heard of it" "What is this place?" There was a chorus of questions.

"Miss Belle, would you do the honors?" Gold sat down and looked to Belle.

She was uncomfortable with everyone looking at her and began slowly, "It's a very small country. It's on the Mediterranean and surrounded by high, nearly impassible mountains on three sides and a rocky inhospitable shore on the other. The original inhabitants had all fled injustices, like pogroms, witch-hunts, the Inquisition and such from all over Europe. Many were scholars who had run afoul of those in authority. Those that survived the trip over the mountains decided that they would be an open society, respectful of the religions and beliefs of others. It has remained a very small country, entirely self-sufficient but does export some cheese, wine and they're known for their sapphires that come from the mountain mines."

Everyone was listening to her. She swallowed and went on. "They have one of the oldest libraries in the world with many ancient texts, many materials that were judged heretical by the early Christian church and just many old, unique pieces. Some came to the library when clerics fleeing from barbarian invaders took sacred texts with them for safety. With such valuable material, the library is a well-armed vault. Many banks don't have the security this library does."

Gold added. "The library is our target."

"Why do we want this scroll?" Emma asked.

Gold hesitated, "It is one of five scrolls that are needed to cast the most powerful spell ever created."

"Do we want to cast such a thing?" Emma asked.

"Oh, I wouldn't think so, but just being in possession of the scrolls would make us the most powerful group in the upper, middle and lower worlds. We would be able to quit fighting." He had lowered his voice to a conspirical level.

"Okay then," David said. "What do we need to do?"

"A number of things. We'll need special identification papers to get into the library's vault and we need to select a team that are most likely to be able to get in and out and still leave enough people here to protect the place," Gold explained.

Over the next hour, they developed a plan. David agreed to produce the sundry paperwork for Gold and the team. Gold was to be Dr. Gold, a Glasgow native who was a professor of ancient literature at the University of North Carolina. He was doing research on ancient languages, particularly works that related to the legendary bard Taliesin and had come across some references to the some materials that were in the possession of the library. With Belle, they composed a letter of introduction and a request for access that would be sent to the head librarian, a Mr. Luminere. Before sending it off, Gold would bespell the letter and make his request for access irresistible to anyone that read it.

Gold considered his team as well as the makeup of the group to be left behind. Regina, he decided was one of his strongest students and she and Ashely would be left to help defend The House. Leroy, Milah, David, Mary Margaret, Ruby and Killian would also remain behind on this trip (he thought it likely that he would be using them for other missions). He felt that Archie with his environmental senses could be useful and he would take two additional magic users, Emma and Jefferson.

He turned to Belle, "I'd like you to come also," he told her. "You know this library. You can get us right to the scroll."

"What? Oh no, I couldn't possibly go!" she exclaimed.

He lowered his voice, "Belle, you know the country, the customs, you'd be invaluable."

Belle stood up. She was panicked. "I . . .I . . . I can't go. They're looking for me there. If someone spots me. . . "

"What are the odds?" he asked her.

"Pretty good," she told him, raising her voice. "It's a small country."

"So everyone knows everybody else?"

"Pretty much," she was becoming visibly upset. "If I go back, there's a very good chance I'll be spotted and. . . I would probably be sent back to the hospital." She had tears running down her face, "I don't . . . I can't go back to the hospital."

"Belle, we'll find a disguise for you. Maybe a wig and some glasses. . ." Emma was there trying to help Belle.

"Absolutely," Gold assured her. He was surprised at the intensity of Belle's reaction. She was genuinely upset. "A blond wig and heavy glasses should do the trick."

"If you think a wig and glasses will disguise this woman, you're a dumb shit." It was Milah. "You want her to look like some poor style-less graduate student?" she asked Gold and he nodded slowly.

"Great," continued Milah. "Belle, you come with me, girl. If you'll let me, I can fix you up so that nobody here will recognize you, much less anybody from A-von-lee-high," she mispronounced the country's name. "You come with me."

Belle glanced at Gold who was staring intently at Milah. He looked back at Belle and slowly nodded.

Dumbly, Belle wiped the tears from her face and got up to follow the other woman out. As they went out the door, the group heard Milah ask Belle, "So how do you feel about tattoos?"

Gotta thank those amazing, dedicated reviewers: thedoctorsgirl42, Robin4, juju0268, RoxyMoron, OneMagician, cheesyteal'c, karolprado, orthankg1, RaFire, Ying-Fa-dono, cynicsquest, deweymay, CharlotteAshmore (chapters 3, 9 & 16!), MyraValhallah, snapeygirl, Aletta-Feather, jewel415, Chauchi, emospritelet, Grace5231973, and spacecats

Anne Andrews (Guest): glad you enjoyed the presents and Ruby's reaction. (just curious, have you ever considered getting an account? A lot of people have them and just do reviews – no writing)

Erik'sTrueAngel (Guest): They've yet to make it through one of the chocolate cakes, but we did have a little smut and a family meeting of sorts is in the future.

NEXT: Milah and Belle have some girl-time

Gold and Regina have a couple of chats