Chapter Three

A/AN: Thanks so much for the reviews! :3 I'm really excited about this fanfic and the many ideas Maurice also has a bit of a dirty secret I'm going to delve a bit into this chapter.

Richard hadn't slept a wink since Belle's prior intrusion. He couldn't stop thinking about his curious little student since she'd kissed him. He really wasn't looking forward to their lecture today. He skipped going to breakfast, staying in his room fearfully awaiting the eleven o'clock hour. He couldn't have kept anything on his stomach if he'd tried.

He grabbed his things at 10:55 , making his way to the library with downcast eyes, wishing the carpet would just swallow him up and rid him of his miserable existence. He barely heard Mary Margret's greeting as she passed him in the hallway.

"Ms. Blanchard I'm sorry I didn't see you there." Richard remarked clearing his throat uncomfortably. He met her awkward green eyes.

"I was just going to tell you that Belle isn't feeling herself today. She's usually so animate about things but has mostly kept to herself. Maybe you can talk to her?" she suggested with pleading eyes.

"Yes of course." Richard supplied averting his gaze as she continued down the hall. He was afraid she would accuse him of being responsible for Belle's overcast mood. He stopped in front of the double doors that led into the library.

He took a deep breath, running his fingers through his disheveled hair. He pushed open the door. She was sitting in her red velvet armchair with a device in her hands she hadn't possessed yesterday.

She had a pair of ear buds in her ears, holding a computerized device. She uttered several sentences in a foreign tongue with her rich beautiful accent. She sounded like she was speaking Russian, the most beautiful Russian he'd ever heard in his life.

"How many languages do you speak Ms. French?" Richard piped up bravely making his presence known. She almost seemed startled at the sound of his voice as she plucked the ear buds from her ears.

"I speak five languages Mr. Gold, and I was just working on some translation essays Mary Margret left me" she supplied, but he could detect the iciness in her voice.

"What languages Ms. French?" he continued etching closer to her, like a moth to a flame. She was so mesmerizing to him.

"I can speak Russian, Mandarin Chinese, German, French, and of course English." she almost purred in her beautiful Australian accent.

"And you speak them all beautifully I'm sure." he rasped until both of his hands rested on her red velvet armchair. He had no idea why he was acting like such a fool as he brought his face closer to her, drinking her all in.

He'd never really looked at her this closely before, noting small lines of flesh that were pinker than the rest. He cupped her cheek with his palm, running his thumb over the barely visible scars. No one had been more beautiful to him in his entire forty-eight years until that moment.

"Richard…" she exhaled his name, wondering what had come over him. He gingerly placed a soft kiss on her forehead, continuing to explore her face just like she'd explored his, the day they'd met.

"Belle I'm sorry about last night…I was a coward to push you away like I did. I literally despise the man I am. I'm a coward who's spent his entire life running from everyone who's ever loved him. I've given up so many things just because I was too afraid to fight for them. I thought of all the ways I could avoid you this morning, and I even considered quitting but then I realized you deserved better than that. You deserve someone who will be brave for you, and I'm unfortunately not that man." he sighed letting his fingers drop from her face.

He was startled when she snatched his hand, holding onto it for dear life, "It took much bravery to admit the things you just said. I don't think you're as big of a coward as you make yourself out to be. I'm not sure what or who you've been running from, but I know that you didn't run this time." she smiled running a thumb soothingly over his calloused knuckles.

"Belle I-" but she silenced him with one of her small digits, he was sure tasted heavenly.

"So professor what does our lesson entail today?" she smiled causing a wave of calmness to immerse him. She hadn't brought it up last night, and he was glad. She wasn't pressuring him to decide who or what they were in that moment. She was allowing him to be her teacher. He knew he would have much soul searching to do later but in that moment they were just Richard and Belle, with no strings attached.

"I was wondering what kind of thesis you might like to focus on for the first quarter?" he inquired. She smiled brightly at him causing his heart to lurch forward.

"I was thinking about ancient Egyptian customs. Egypt has one of the richest and oldest histories in the world." she smiled.

"Well I guess I can aid you in your research then. You need ten sources of information so where would you like to start searching first?" he asked awaiting her response.

"The internet would be the most practical place, but I think I would rather scourge my library then try to make sense of all the falsified information out there. I mean Wikipedia has got to be the most inaccurate archives of information in the world." she snarled with a disgusted look on her face.

Richard couldn't help but grin at her reasoning, "Well Ms. French shall we start looking then?" he asked scanning the shelves of the library.

"Yes I'm afraid this endeavor may take our entire class period though." she sighed with a click of her tongue.

"That's all right Ms. French…We've got plenty of time." he returned, taking her hand and leading her over to a shelf of history books to they begin their search.

~X~

Maurice locked the door in his study. He approached a small black file cabinet, producing a silver key. He undid the latch, looking for that certain file. He sighed in relief when he found the manila envelope. He undid the flap producing the one thing he needed if he were to have to make a quick escape. He turned the lone plane ticket over in his hand that he'd purchased over five years ago.

He knew that desperate times called for desperate measures and that the wolves would be closing in on him soon. He sighed tucking the ticket back in the envelope. He put it back in the black file cabinet and turned the key. He knew there would be some rainy day that he needed it, and he would never look back after that day.

"I'm so sorry Lucinda..." he murmured under his breath, collapsing in his leather armchair. He produced a bottle of scotch throwing back as much as he could handle. He regretted his past mistakes and decisions, knowing one day they would catch up with him. He wished on most days he'd been the one driving the car that had stolen his wife's life away.

He turned on the television to an old rerun of Bonanza drowning out the rest of his sorrows in the now empty bottle of scotch, his head lolled to one side as late evening approached, sending him spiraling into dreams of lamentation.

~X~

Thirty-three year old Mary Margret cleaned up the spilled pasta on the counter, she and her family had eaten just an hour ago. She placed each supper dish gently in the sink, washing away the remnants of Prego sauce. She hummed the tune of a song she'd heard on the radio earlier. She smiled when she felt a pair of arms wrap themselves around her.

"Enjoy your dinner Mr. Noland?" she sing songed, tilting her chin up to meet his gaze.

"Why yes of course Mrs. Noland…I mean Blanchard…Isn't that what your pupils still call you?" he inquired with a wrinkle in his nose.

"You mean Belle? I'll always be Ms. Blanchard to her!" she exclaimed with tinkling laughter.

"Yes I guess you will…" he purred seductively in her ear until they both heard a gagging sound coming from behind them. They both pulled away quickly like they'd been caught kissing in the janitor's closet.

"Emma I thought you were doing your homework?" David inquired eyeing his sixteen year old daughter questionably.

"I was but that doesn't mean I can't hit up the kitchen for a snack?" she shrugged with green eyes before plundering the cabinets.

"Don't eat a bunch of junk before bed Emma." Mary Margret warned with sharp motherly eyes.

"I'm not mother just grabbing a few granola bars…I'm going to head back upstairs then. You guys can go back to whatever it was you were doing ." she shuddered, bounding back up the stairs with blond curls bouncing behind her.

"When did she grow up?" David inquired meeting his wife with a gentle gaze. She had submerged her hands back into the soapy dishwater, scrubbing away at a pan of caked noodles.

"That's a good question." she muttered as her mind traveled back into the past of Emma's childhood. She and David had met in high school. He was the quarterback of the football team, and she was just a drama nerd.

He had stared in her drama club's production of Snow White. He'd landed the role of Prince Charming, and she'd played Snow White. He had only auditioned to get extra credit in English to keep from losing his Football Scholarship, but he'd been a natural. The chemistry they displayed on stage kindled into something more that junior year.

He'd been dating the head cheerleading coach Kathryn Hobbs, a match made in heaven according to their high school superlatives but then Mary Margret had turned his head with her bewitching intellect.

He had broke things off with Kathryn and had began dating Mary Margret, and they had crossed the line the summer before Senior Year in the back of his old Chevy blue pickup under the stars. She found herself in a bind when she found out she was pregnant. She lived with her stepmother Regina who made her life miserable anytime she got the chance. She had lost her mother when she was just a little girl and her father had remarried Regina Mills, his beautiful young secretary.

Mary Margret knew Regina never really loved her father. She was twenty-three when they wed and fresh out of college. She saw her father as an easy way out of a hard life and overbearing mother. Mary Margret was fourteen when her father died, and Regina had wasted no time turning her father's bank accounts over entirely in her name leaving nothing for his only daughter.

David had accepted their dilemma wholeheartedly. He gave up his college football dreams, got his GED, and began working in the only lone factory in the middle of town. They secured a one bedroom apartment, and she became Mrs. David Noland the day after graduation.

Mary Margret worked her way through college a year after graduation, securing her doctorate when she was only twenty-five. She and David had always fought for everything they had even when Regina threatened to take Emma away when they fell short from time to time. They always found a way to hold on.

"Emma really is the light of our lives…She's been our saving grace from the start." Mary Margret sighed dreamily turning to her husband. He grabbed her dishpan hands, kissing her thoughtfully.

"Yes and you're still mine." he whispered in her ear, clinging to the love they'd always fought for even when everyone else was bent on tearing them apart.

~X~

Emma glanced at the clock that read 8:35, unlocking her cell phone. She smiled when she noticed her newest Facebook notification. She blushed like a mad school girl when the name Neal Cassidy popped up in her messages. She couldn't help but squeal inwardly at his two line message

Emma,

I'm coming to Storybrooke the week of Winter Break. I can't wait to see you again!

:- )

Emma couldn't help but swoon at the thought of seeing Neal in three short months. She hoped that perhaps she could convince him to stay and never leave her side ever again.

~X~

Belle sighed at the feel of her goose down mattress squealing under her. She was exhausted both physically and mentally. She and Richard had spent well past seven o'clock looking for material for her thesis. They had come up with four books, two audio tapes from the library in Storybrooke after a quick phone call, and four internet sources much to her dismay.

The internet was just a waste of precious flowing time with all of its Social Media entanglements that sucked the life out of people. Belle had more use for the books in her library than the internet.

She sighed splaying her hair out behind her pillow. She was thankful for the requiescence that had seasoned their conversation today. She nor he ever mentioned the happenings of last night even though Belle was aware it was on the tip of their tongues. She wanted to be more to Richard than just his student but maybe she should just try being his friend first, something he clearly never had before.

She presumed he had a troubling past, one that he was burdened with daily. She couldn't ever look into his eyes but that didn't mean she wasn't good at reading people. She could tell the day she met him that he held a lot of pain in his heart. The scar on his right cheek was the cause of most of it, but she feared prodding him about it. She was afraid he would withdraw from her.

She closed her eyes, pondering how she could get him to open up to her. She had to find a way to reassure him that he wasn't alone and that he never had to be alone ever again. She might have been a bit nutty for feeling such strong feelings for a man, she'd only met three days ago, but she was certain she cared for him, and she hoped that deep down he cared for her too. She let herself drift off hoping for peaceful slumber but then the nightmares came.

~X~

Richard reached for his cane, fumbling for the light. He threw open the door, gathering the weeping woman in his arms. He pulled her into his embrace, threading his fingers through her hair in an attempt to console her. She calmed down, the tempo of her beating heart recessing as she led her over to his bed. He offered her a glass of water and a listening ear in case she wanted to open up to him.

She didn't want to talk, just squeezing his hand like an anchor afraid she would come unhinged without his support.

"Would you like to stay here tonight? I can make a pallet in the floor if you'd like." he offered despite the voice in his head telling him not to even consider it.

"I hate to be a burden to you Richard…" she said softly in almost a whisper.

"Belle if you're scared of being alone, then I can't help but offer you a spot in my bed. I can't possibly send you back to your room alone after such terrible nightmares." he insisted, and she sighed.

"Fine but I should sleep in the floor. I'm the intruder it seems." she complied beating herself up.

"I insist you take the bed…Sleeping on the floor suits me just fine." he remarked pulling back the covers, tucking her in. He kissed her brow, tucking a curl of hair behind her ear.

"Goodnight Belle." he whispered crawling under the blanket and pillow pallet he'd made on the floor beside her sleeping form.

"Goodnight Richard…" She listened to his soft breathing allowing it to lull her to sleep. She felt herself falling away into a dream about a field of dandelions she'd played in as a child. The nightmares dispersed and for the first time in many years, she experienced peaceful dreams.

~X~

Maurice awoke to the sound of his cell phone ringing. He felt like he'd been hit by a truck as he scrabbled for the source that had awoken him at such a late hour.

"Hello?" he slurred to the other occupant on the phone.

"Maurice it's time." the voice reverberated on the other line, his mind going back to the plane ticket locked safely away in his black filing cabinet.

A/AN: Dun!Dun!Dun! What's going on with Maurice, and why is Neal coming to Storybrooke? What does this all mean for Belle and Richard? Please review! :3