Sorry I'm so behind in updating. I've been so busy with my school work, and when I do find the time to write, I'm usually pretty tired. For anyone that is wondering though, I will finish this story. Please just be patient.

The first scene is a continuation from a flashback scene in chapter two, just in case any one forgot the scene between Gold and Killian, when they first met.

Hope everyone enjoys the chapter!

"So, what is it that you do exactly?" Killian asked, staring incredulously at the older man, Mr. Gold, who was sitting next to him at the bar.

Gold smirked. "I run Gold Enterprises."

Killian just shook his head, frowning.

Gold's eyes widened. "Gold Enterprises? A billion dollar company. I'm a lawyer."

"Oh, so that's why I haven't heard of it," Killian muttered, taking a sip of his beer that he had taken back from the older man. "A stodgy, lawyer firm. I'm not exactly in with the law, so to speak. I don't think hiring me is the best idea."

Gold chuckled. "Au contraire, Killian. I'm not exactly in with the law myself."

Killian hesitated from taking a drink. The glass hovered over his lips. He quirked an eyebrow at Gold. "Who are you?"

Gold rested his hands calmly on the bar. "I told you. I'm a lawyer." He paused, shrugging. "Just one with extracurricular activities."

Killian eyed the man next to him. "Why would you want someone like me to work for you? I'm only seventeen."

Gold swiveled on the stool, to look at Killian head on. "Because the younger you are, the easier it is for me to train you."

Killian slammed down his beer in frustration. "To do what? You haven't been exactly forthcoming in your information, old man."

Gold lifted an eyebrow, a very arrogant expression. "Haven't I?"

Killian stared incredulously at Gold. "No, you haven't."

Gold smirked, turning back around in his seat. "Oh, Mr. Jones, you are very amusing. I really would benefit from a man like you."

"Didn't you hear?" muttered Killian. "I'm seventeen. I'm not exactly a man, or is your hearing so bad that you've started inventing things."

Gold laughed outright. "Like I said, young Killian. I would love to have you work for me. You have sprit, and soon enough, you'll have other men flocking to your side. They'll want to follow you."

"Follow me?" Killian asked, confused. "This job isn't like, a way for you to molest me, is it? I've seen movies about priests putting their hands on young choir boys."

Gold chuckled again. "No, it's not. Trust me, I have no interest in young boys. I'm married. To a woman."

"Didn't stop other men," Killian said into his beer.

Gold just shook his head in amused exasperation. "All right, since you don't believe me. I partake in different fields. Some legal, others...not as much." He took out a notebook and pen from his jacket pocket, and wrote an address on it. "Come to this restaurant tomorrow, and I'll tell you exactly what I want from you."

Killian snorted, grabbing the piece of paper. He threw it straight to the ground. "I'm not showing up at some restaurant, in the middle of nowhere, so you can play godfather to me. I'm not buying it. I'm inclined to think you're just an old, perverted man." Killian stood up, walking towards the door. He paused, when Gold called out to him.

"Killian, you're a runaway with no home. Where else are you going to go?"

Killian turned around to see Gold sitting at the bar, hands clasped around the handle of his cane. "Why do you want me to work for you?" Killian asked again.

Gold steadily looked at him. "Because I see so much potential in you."

Killian wavered. His parents had never been proud of him, never thought he would amount to anything. But looking back defiantly at Mr. Gold, Killian couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to be something great. In Mr. Gold's expression, Killian received the distinct impression that if he showed up at that restaurant, he would become something better than he had ever imagined.

Killian slowly walked back to the bar, and bent down to pick up the piece of paper he had thrown to the ground. When he stood up, he saw that the older man was smirking and looking extremely smug.

Killian wanted to know what it would be like to have that much confidence, that much power, that in one look, he could exude that much.

He agreed to show up at the restaurant tomorrow.

After her confession to Ruby about her date with Mason Gold, Belle quickly hurried home after work, her mind in a whirlwind of thoughts. She was excited about her date with Mr. Gold, coming up that Saturday. She was just filled with doubt over whether or not she should tell Lieutenant Swan, or heaven forbid, Captain Mills. Belle was still unsure about Gold's crime affiliation. Belle really didn't want to go on a date with a criminal, but she did want to spend time with a charming, book loving man.

As Belle made her way home, over analyzing too much, she passed by an animal shelter. A picture of a cat and dog were painted on the brick building. Belle kept on saying she was going to get a cat for company, she just forgot about it. Looking at the picture of the cat on the wall, Belle decided the time was better than never. Belle wasn't exactly spontaneous, so just buying a cat without preparing for one was a little outside her comfort zone, but her talk with Ruby about taking chances rang through her head. She entered the animal shelter...and then became the owner of a kitten named, Eyre, after her favorite heroine, Jane Eyre. Looking down into the kitten's eyes, a blue Persian, Belle knew in that moment she needed to be more impulsive. She needed to stop over thinking everything, and live a little.

Buying her new kitten reassured her about her date with Mr. Gold.

She figured going on one date had never hurt anybody.

Moe French, the following morning, nervously entered the office of Mr. Gold. Moe was practicably trembling, especially when he saw Gold casually leaning in his black, high-back chair, hand's clasped beneath his chin.

Moe gulped when Gold greeted him. "How are you today, Mr... 'Nelson' was it?" Gold's eyes glinted, his smirk prominent.

Moe gulped again. "Uh, uh...I'm fine, thank you. Sir" he added quickly.

Gold waved a hand. "You don't have to call me 'Sir.' Just call me Mr. Gold."

Moe hesitantly nodded. "All right...Mr. Gold."

Gold's smirk eased into a grin. "There, much more casual." He leaned forward in his seat, grabbing several pieces of paper. "How much money do you need, Mr. Nelson?"

"Oh, wow, right into business," Moe said, taken aback.

Gold glanced up from where he had been assembling documents. He smiled, which didn't ease Moe's anxiety any less. The smile was pretty scary. "Of course. I find most of my clients don't like to stay in a business deal with me for any longer than necessary. So yes, let's get right down to business."

Moe shakily raised a hand to rub the back of his neck. "Ok."

Gold looked expectantly at him. "Money, Mr. Nelson. How much, and what will I be funding?"

"My flower shop, Game of Thorns, uh, Mr. Gold. I just need a little bit more money to help keep the shop going. It seems that not as many people are buying flowers lately, with it being summer. Greenhouses are getting in my way," Moe said, haltingly.

Gold waved his fountain pen impatiently. "Yes, but you still haven't told me how much money you need."

Moe shrugged. "However much you can give me."

Gold looked like he was resisting the urge to roll his eyes. "I have a lot of money, Mr. Nelson. Money for me won't be the issue. Money for you on the other hand, is a major issue. That is why you're here, in my office, if I am correct?"

Moe nodded, not liking the idea of irritating Mr. Gold. He seemed like the type of man who broke kneecaps in his spare time.

Gold settled back in his seat. "Now, I am going to ask you one more time, Mr. Nelson. How much money do you need?"

Moe speculated, not having a clear idea. He admittedly wasn't the best business man. "Oh, 5,000 dollars for advertising. I need to get people coming into my shop again, and I can't spare that kind of money at the moment. I can't even spare a hundred bucks."

"I'm not an advertising company," Gold replied.

Moe nodded quickly. "I know. That's why I just need the cash. That's all I'm asking for."

Gold chuckled, and moved forward in his seat again. "Clearly you don't want much of my help. And I don't blame you." Gold looked steadily at Moe's face. "I would be scared of myself too."

Moe quirked his lips hesitantly, just wanting to get the loan and leave. "So do we have a deal?"

Gold just stared for a few minutes, finally nodding, picking up his pen. "We'll go through the paperwork, and you'll soon have an extra 5,000 dollars on your hands, Mr. Nelson."

Moe sighed in relief. After he and Mr. Gold went through all the documents, and Moe finished signing his alias name, he was starting to feel comfortable.

But then Mr. Gold decided to speak up. "You'll have five months, Mr. Nelson to get your business advertised to all of Boston. After that, I need you to pay me back, in which you will have another month to obtain the money. That doesn't seem too difficult, does it? A thousand dollars a month." He quirked his head to the side.

Moe's hand, hovering over a document, started to tremble. "Yes, Sir. I understand."

Gold chuckled again, though it wasn't comforting. It was terrifying. "What did I say, Mr. Nelson? You don't have to call me 'Sir.'"

"Of course, S-, uh, Mr. Gold." Moe looked at his signature he had just written down. "Are we done here?"

Gold nodded once. "Yes. Have a nice day, Mr. Nelson. I so wish that for you."

Moe's brow furrowed. "Why?"

"Because you're indebted to me now."

David went to meet Jefferson again, late Friday night, at another bar downtown. David guessed this was somewhat like an initiation. Maybe he was going to be welcomed into the organization.

He stepped inside the bar, and spotted Jefferson towards the back of the room. The other man was dressed in a flashy, green waistcoat. David thought that as a man trying to keep his crime affiliation on the down low, Jefferson sure did stand out in a crowd.

"There you are," Jefferson said, standing up. "Cop man."

David quirked his head. "Remember, I'm not a cop."

Jefferson smirked. "Sure you're not."

"So, what am I doing here?" David asked, gesturing around the bar. "I thought this business would be more in the line of smuggling goods across the border, or breaking a man's kneecaps."

Jefferson laughed. "You wish, James. And since when did you get funny?" He eyed David up and down. "You're acting...charming."

David shrugged. "Just a part of my personality, I guess."

Jefferson snorted. "Funny, because I recall you having the personality of paint drying."

This time David chuckled. "I guess there's more to me than meets the eye."

Jefferson paused. "I would say so," he murmured. He nodded for David to take a seat, right as Jefferson received a phone call. He sighed, answering. "What?" He paused, listening. "All right." He turned to David once he finished. "You stay here. I have to go speak with one of the superiors in the back."

David tried not to look too excited. "Mind if I join you?"

Jefferson chuckled. "You wish, Charming." Jefferson followed a door into some back room.

Of course, it wasn't as if David was just going to stay put. He stood up and followed after the flashy waistcoat wearing man. Really, it was Jefferson's fault that he made everything so easy. He didn't exactly have men keeping an eye on David, nor did he pretend to hide anything. Either he was just a terrible criminal, or he wanted David to eavesdrop in on the conversation. David wasn't sure which he wanted more.

Like a little boy playing with gadgets, he stepped up to the back door, thankfully shrouded in darkness so no one could ask him what he was doing, and pulled out one of his hidden ear pieces. It had an enhancing microphone on it, so David could clearly hear through the door.

"What the hell, Hook? You're not supposed to be here!" Jefferson exclaimed.

At the mention of Hook's name, David had to resist the urge to walk right into the room and demand answers, but he knew that wouldn't help anything. He had to be patient and listen.

Another man responded in an English accent. "The boss man wanted me to come, and check on you. Make sure you're doing a good job with the new recruits."

"Seriously?" Jefferson sounded dumfounded. "Gold sent you? Why the fuck would he do that? He knows we're entertaining a possible cop. You could be exposed."

David caught his breath, for many reasons. Was Hook the mole? And was Mason Gold working with these criminals? He was an obvious suspect, but nothing had ever been pinned on the man. David might just have received information that could help expose who really ran this criminal empire.

Hook laughed. "I know, but that's the fun in it."

"You're fucking crazy," Jefferson muttered. "Gold's fucking crazy."

Hook snorted. "No, you're fucking crazy if you think Gold sent me. He didn't. I came on my own."

Jefferson paused. "You really are crazy. You came here without his permission?'

Hook huffed. "The old man's not my father. And he doesn't need to know. I just wanted to be sure that you're handling our cop friend out there, who, coincidently, is probably listening in on our conversation right now."

David jerked back, quickly making his way back to his seat, not wanting to expose himself. He didn't need to blow the entire operation before it even really began. David's mind was reeling at the information he had obtained from Hook and Jefferson. If Hook was the mole...well that made David more eager to find out who he was. And if Gold ran this crime organization...then taking it down would be a lot more difficult than planned.

"We have some unsurprising news," Captain Mills muttered the following Monday morning. Emma, David, Belle and Ruby were all centered around Regina's desk. "Detective Nolan informed me that supposedly Mason Gold is in league with Hook."

"I overhead Jefferson speaking with Hook," David supplied. "The Mad Hatter mentioned Gold's name, and that he had sent Hook to check in on him."

"So Gold's the boss," Emma murmured.

Belle's heart started beating erratically. This was not what she wanted to hear.

"We can't jump to conclusions," Regina said, holding up a hand, "but Gold is definitely on our suspect list from now on."

"If only we could get close enough to him, to figure out the truth," Emma said.

Regina huffed. "If only. He would see through one of us in a minute. Being a lawyer, he is very perceptive."

Ruby shot Belle a pointed look, causing Belle to blanch. "Belle!" Ruby whispered, harshly. But of course, Ruby couldn't be quiet to save her life, as due to Captain Mills glancing over in their direction.

"Something you want to tell us, Lucas?"

Ruby quickly clamped her mouth shut. "Uh..."

Regina lifted an eyebrow. "Yes?"

Ruby started fidgeting with her hands, twirling her fingers around the other ones. "It's just..." She glanced over helplessly at Belle.

Belle sighed, knowing she need to tell her bosses about her extracurricular activities. "Captain Mills?"

Regina moved her gaze from Ruby to Belle. "Yes, French?"

Belle took in a deep breath and spoke. "I have a date." Belle was so nervous, that apparently her brain decided to stop working at that moment so she couldn't finish her sentence.

Regina looked amused, but slightly irritated at the same time. "I'm glad for you, French, but that doesn't explain why Lucas looks like she's about to spontaneously combust."

Belle shook her head, clearing her muddy thoughts. "No, Captain Mills. What I meant was, I have a date...with Mason Gold." She paused. "On Saturday." As if that tidbit of information needed explaining.

Regina's eyebrows reached her hairline, completely surprised. But it was Lieutenant Swan that spoke.

"What the hell? Either you're messing with us Belle, which isn't you, or you're telling the truth." Emma paused, thinking, finally nodding on a decision. "How did you manage a date with notorious, shark Mason Gold?"

"Isn't he old enough to be your father?" David asked.

Belle flushed under the scrutiny of everyone's looks. "We met at a diner, and got to discussing books. I had no idea who he was at the time. Then he asked me out, but since I thought that maybe he wasn't a hardened criminal, I figured going out on a date would be all right. Now I know that's not the case." She hadn't even taken a breath during her little ramble.

Regina's eyebrows were still touching her hairline, but she slowly lowered them. "You have a date with Mason Gold?"

"He's really charming," Belle said defensively.

"Oh, I don't doubt that," Regina muttered. "That man could talk himself into and out of any situation. It's just the matter of what we do now."

"What do we do now?" Belle asked.

Regina sighed, running a hand over the back of her neck. "It's not as if I can send a rookie detective into the field."

Emma looked surprised. "Captain Mills, we can't send Belle to glean information on Gold."

Belle became indignant, but tried not to lose her control. "But that's what I'm here for. To become a detective."

"I know," Regina said. "But Gold won't be easy to take down."

Belle finally understood what Captain Mills was suggesting. "Wait. You want me to use my date with Mr. Gold to spy on him?"

Regina sighed again. "I'm hesitant and leery. I don't want to throw you to the wolves...but this might be the only chance to get close to Gold." She directed her sharp eyes on Belle. "He doesn't know you're a detective, does he?"

"He probably wouldn't have asked her out if he did, " Ruby suggested.

"Not necessarily," David commented. "He might know Belle's a detective. If Hook is onto me, he might know about you, and warned Gold."

Belle emphatically shook her head. "No, I don't think so. I never told him about my job, and he has no reason to suspect me. I...trust him." That clearly was a mistake to say.

"You can't trust a man like him, French," Regina said, harshly. "But...he might not know." Regina acquiesced.

"I don't feel comfortable spying on him," Belle said.

"You're a detective Miss French. If Gold finds out who you are, I'm sure he won't be so trusting anymore," Regina said, sighing, turning to look at the others in the room. "We have to be careful, and Belle needs to be prepared." She looked steadily at the small brunette. "Are you up for doing this, French? It could help us so much in stopping criminal activity, especially a crime ring like Hook, and apparently Gold, are a part of. I thought that's why you became a detective."

"To stop the bad guys," Belle murmured softly to herself.

"Don't let your guilt get in the way," Regina advised.

Belle was conflicted. After she had painstakingly made up her mind about going on a date with Gold, Belle convinced herself that he couldn't be a criminal. Now there was true evidence and reason that he was leading a crime organization. She liked the man, but her duty to her work was more important. She knew what the right decision would be.

She took in a deep breath. "I'll do it," she said, steadily. "I'll go on my date with Mason Gold...and I'll try my best to discover if he is a part of this organization." Or worse, leading it, she thought to herself.

Regina nodded, determination in her eyes. "Then let's go bring him down."

When Saturday arrived, Belle was in a tangle of nerves. She had run into Mr. Gold at the diner during the week, but she flew past him, only gleaning when and where they would meet up. Gold seemed startled at her abruptness, and she knew Captain Mills wouldn't be too happy if she blew her cover before the date even began. But Belle just told Gold that she was running late for work, not wanting to face him. He seemed to have believed her.

Now that Saturday was here though, Belle knew she couldn't just run away from him again. She was wearing a dark, blue dress with a lace overlay, one which Ruby said Gold would not be able to resist. But Belle wasn't too happy about the fact that she wore a hidden wire underneath the right strap of her dress. It kind of dampened her mood. Correction: extremely dampened.

Belle knew that she should have been more excited to get her first big break when it came to her job. For the first time, she wasn't looked at like Lieutenant Swan's assistant. Emma had briefed her over the week, preparing her for the date. But that still didn't help Belle feel completely ready. Really, all she felt was nerves and anxiety. She didn't want to lie to Mr. Gold, but she couldn't leave a possible crime leader to just walk around like he, well...wasn't a possible crime leader.

Once Belle arrived at Trattoria Amalia, an elegant little Italian restaurant, Belle could feel herself sweating. She hoped it wasn't obvious. She resisted the urge to sniff her underarms, really not wanting anyone to notice that, so she just had to hope that her bundle of jitters would go undetected.

She entered the quaint building, and instantly saw Mr. Gold standing casually with his hands on his cane, near the hostess desk. Belle immediately wanted to turn around and run away, for fear that she would be caught. But she wasn't sure if she was afraid of Gold catching her, or Captain Mills, for not doing what she was supposed to do. So Belle squared her shoulders, and convinced herself that deceiving a man she still (admittedly and irrationally) had a crush on, was the right thing to do.

"Hello," she said quietly, walking closer to him.

Her guilt became ten times worse when Gold grinned broadly. "Hello, Miss French. I wasn't sure if you were going to come tonight." Of course, his smile made him more attractive, which wasn't helping any matters.

She giggled nervously. "Why would you say that?" It couldn't possibly be that he guessed she was a detective sent to spy on him, and that he couldn't believe she would show her face in his presence, as that was sheer audacity.

He tilted his head. "You seemed to run out on me the other day at Granny's and I received the impression that you were uncomfortable around me."

Belle brushed a piece of hair behind her ear, her face and neck warm. "Why would you think that?"

"From the way you rambled and stuttered that you were late for work. You always seemed punctual before, so I assumed your erratic behavior had something to do with me," he smirked.

"Oh...yeah," she barely got out. "That. I really was running late for work. Nothing to do with you."

His grin deepened into a smile. "Well, I'm glad." He reached his arm out to indicate for her to step before him. As the hostess led them to their table, Belle was trying not to focus too much on his hand on her lower back.

"Why did you come, if you thought I wasn't going to show?" Belle asked, once they were seated. She opened her menu, trying not to look too hard at Gold. She figured if she stared at him for any considerable length of time, she would confess everything. But then Belle wanted to smack herself. She was a detective, damn it! She wasn't going to let her guilt over liking a crime warlord get in the way of her job. And she especially wasn't going to let her guilt over lying to said warlord cause her to become unfocused.

Gold opened his menu as well, his finger flipping through the pages. He looked up at her, holding her gaze. Shoot. His brown eyes were very soothing, and addictive. She was hopeless.

"I came," he said, "because I wouldn't want to miss our date."

"But what if I hadn't showed?" She felt breathless looking into his eyes. She really needed to pull herself together. She'd never mooned over a man, and especially not his eyes. Belle didn't know if it was her emotions that were on turbo drive, or if Gold just had that effect on her.

"Well, you did show," he said, simply. "And I would have waited all night. I still owe you my name."

Belle smiled a little, resisting the urge to blurt out something stupid, say like, she already knew his name. "I haven't forgotten, Mr. 'Whatever your name is.'"

Gold hesitated, thinking something over. Finally he nodded, coming to a decision. "It's...Mason Gold. My name that is." Gold was never one to hesitate, but something about this girl made him nervous in good way. He felt like earning her approval. Which was absurd since, he assumed, an innocent woman, like Belle French, would most assuredly not approve of his 'other' activities. Mainly his illegal ones.

Of course, what Gold didn't know was that Belle already knew about his 'other' activities. And she most assuredly did not approve. That still didn't stop her from finding him fascinating though.

"Mason Gold," she tested out loud, finally nodding. "I like it." She definitely liked it better coming from his mouth than Captain Mills. But not as much as she loved her own name coming from his mouth. His accent was beautiful. And sexy too, she admitted to herself.

He frowned a little, but she could tell he was teasing. "You sound disappointed."

Wow, did he catch on fast. She quickly shook her head. "I'm not disappointed." Not in the way he thought. "I was just expecting...more, I guess. You don't tell me your name for almost two weeks, I was suspecting something bigger."

He chuckled. "I'm sorry my name didn't live up to your standards."

She smiled a little. "No, it doesn't. It's...better." Not exactly a lie. She liked his name. There was something pleasing to the ear about it. But she hated knowing who he really was.

His eyes softened at her confession. "And your name is beautiful."

Belle blushed under his gaze. "Well, 'Belle' does mean beauty in french."

"I know," he said, softly.

She shook her head, laughing. "Of course, you do. You seem like someone who knows every language in the world."

"Well, only five, but who's counting?" He winked.

"You speak five different languages?" She was astounded, and impressed.

His expression became smug. "English, of course. Spanish. Easier to deal with certain clients that way, since Spanish is quickly becoming the predominate language in the world. German and French. Can you guess the other?"

Belle racked her brain, not wanting to assume anything. "Uh, Gaelic?"

"Now why would you say that?" His eyes were glinting. He was clearly teasing her.

"Well, you're Scottish. I assumed maybe you want to be closer to the native language." Belle felt like cringing. She sounded, well, slightly idiotic.

He finally put her out of her misery by laughing. "Yes, actually. I enjoy reading old manuscripts and documents written in Scotland around the Middle Ages and so on. As some are written in Gaelic, I felt like the appropriate thing to do was learn the language."

"Why read those types of documents? Aren't you a lawyer?"

He tilted his head at her. "I never said I was a lawyer."

Belle felt like jumping out of her chair, and flouncing away. "Yeah, I know...but the minute you told me your name, I recognized it. Gold Enterprises is a huge company, it's hard to miss."

He was still scrutinizing her, though he didn't look guarded or angry. Yet. "Yet, you didn't know who I was all along?"

Belle quickly wracked her brain for an answer, knowing that if Captain Mills was listening to this right now, she would not be happy. Belle finally came up with a solution, and shrugged her shoulders. "I've heard your name before, but I never knew what you looked like."

He stared at her for a moment, Belle internally cringing underneath his gaze. She thought she had just blown her cover, when Gold smirked, looking back down at his menu. Belle sighed in relief. She was safe, though she knew she shouldn't slip up again. Gold's penetrating stare felt like a close one.

After they had ordered, the awkward tension, on Belle's part anyway, dissipated.

"Mason?" Belle asked hesitantly, as he quirked an eyebrow. "Why did you ask me out on a date?"

He paused in taking a sip of wine. "I told you. I owed you my name."

"But besides that." Belle began nervously twirling her hands beneath the table.

Gold's eyes softened. "Isn't it obvious, Miss French?"

Belle wasn't sure if that was a loaded question, so she just shrugged and shook her head.

"I asked you out because you are clearly a beautiful, intelligent woman. I enjoy your company."

Belle felt the tension leave her shoulders at his words. So he asked her out, not because he knew the truth about her job, but because he truly enjoyed spending time with her. "I came on this date since I knew it would be outside my comfort zone, and one of my friends convinced me it would be a good idea."

Gold smirked, just as their food was placed on the table. After the waiter left, he spoke. "So, you agreed to my date because it forced you outside your comfort zone. Am I that frightening?" he teased.

Belle giggled, ducking her head. "No. I...like you. I wanted to go out with you, because I enjoy your company as well." There was another reason she was on the date, but she wasn't about to tell Gold that.

He nodded, looking pleased. "I'm glad." As they began to eat, Gold's tough questions started to arise, despite Belle being prepped for them. "So you know what I do for a living, Miss French," Gold said, taking a bite of his Scampi de la Casa, "but what is it you do?"

Belle almost choked on her Pollo al Marsala, causing a piece of chicken to lodge in her throat. She coughed, drinking water to get it down. Gold looked concerned.

"Are you all right?"

Belle nodded, swallowing her food. "Yes, I just wasn't prepared for that question."

He frowned. "I just asked you what you do for a living. Is it a secret?" He was teasing, but Belle couldn't help but feel that Gold wouldn't take well to secrets, despite keeping his own.

"No. I work at a flower shop, actually." It was agreed upon that Belle would 'work' at her father's flower shop, Game of Thorns, since it would be easy for her to get a job there in case Gold went snooping. Her father was informed that she was going undercover and was pretending to work at his shop, Moe just didn't know Belle's exact mission. Mainly Moe didn't know that the man he had just borrowed money from was the same man his daughter was trying to catch. Of course, Belle didn't know any of this either.

"Oh," Gold sounded interested. "What store?"

Belle hesitated, not exactly wanting to get her papa involved, but she went ahead anyway. "A little shop, called Game of Thorns. I work there with my father."

Now Gold looked even more interested. Almost too much so. "Oh?"

Belle nodded. "Yes, have you heard of it?"

Gold smirked. "I believe I have. I've passed it before on my way to work. Never gone in though." He could have told Belle that he knew her father, since he had just had a meeting with 'Mr. Nelson' earlier in the week, but Gold wasn't sure if Belle knew her father had taken money from him. By the fact that she seemed innocent in the matters of knowing him, Gold figured she didn't know about her father's transaction. He didn't want to spoil the evening by telling her unpleasant news.

"That's all right. I guess you don't buy flowers for many people."

Gold shrugged. "In my line of work, flowers don't usually come up."

As the evening went on, Belle's nervous energy lessened a little. By the time the two of them parted ways, Belle was anxiously awaiting to see him the following Monday at Granny's. She knew that she shouldn't have been so excited to see a criminal that she was trying to convict, but she couldn't help the way Mr. Gold made her feel. It was exciting, and exhilarating all at once. His presence affected her in a way she had never felt before.

But when she returned home, and took off the hidden recording wire attached to her dress, Belle reminded herself not to feel anything for Mr. Gold. Belle had a feeling that if she did, nothing would go as planned.

And the mission wouldn't end well, either.

The story is finally getting on its way. Belle has to keep secrets. Clearly Gold is keeping secrets. This is probably going to turn messy.

Upcoming: Belle tries to find out more about Gold's secrets, Gold tries to keep Belle from finding out more about his own secrets, and rats are still trying not to get caught.