17

Bella Notte

The four magic wielders remained staring out at the harbor long after the mermaid had disappeared beneath the water. The sun dazzled water made them squint, but none of them stopped looking until several minutes had passed. Then it was time to go back down to the Liberty Island Museum, where they could obtain pictures of the statue and other souvenirs.

As Bae headed down the stairs with Emma next to him, he whispered, "Hey, wild swan. Want to try some LDS?"

Emma started cracking up again. "Baelfire! Shut up before I wet my pants."

"I heard they sell some of that in some warehouse at the end of the harbor," her husband joked, his eyes twinkling with mischief. Then he started laughing too.

Alina and Henry just rolled their eyes. "Our family's so weird," Henry said.

"Especially when they laugh at stuff that makes no sense," Alina replied.

Regina was now holding Snow's hand and prattling about the "pretty mermaid" and how cool it was. "I wanna talk to one, Mommy."

"Well, I don't think you can, since she's gone," Snow reminded her. "But how about we see what they have in the museum gift shop? Maybe you can get a crown like Lady Liberty."

"Yeah! I wanna crown, so's I can be like her an' a princess," Regina said happily.

Halfway down, she went and ran over to where Belle and Rumple were walking and skipped along beside them, her ruby red shoes twinkling. "Unca Rumple, will the mermaid come back?"

The pawnbroker looked down at the child and said, "That's difficult to say, Regina. Mermaids come and go like the tides, there one minute and gone the next."

"But I wanna say hi to her," Regina said.

"Most mermaids won't talk to humans," Rumple told her.

"Why?"

"Because most of them believe that the only good human's a dead one, dearie. They're not all like Ariel in the movie. A lot of them are cruel and vicious."

"What's 'vicious' mean?"

"Very mean and nasty," he elaborated.

"Was the mermaid we saw mean?"

"I don't know, dearie. But it's best not to take chances. So you stay out of the water around here, Regina," he cautioned. He didn't say it, but some of the nastier mermaids had been known to steal away unattended children and drown them, but he didn't want to scare her silly, so he kept that part to himself.

"I will," she said. "I can't swim yet."

"Maybe I can teach you when we get back home," Belle suggested. "You can learn in our pool."

"You can swim, Auntie Belle?"

"Yes, quite well, actually. Would you like me to show you?"

Regina nodded. "Yeah. I wanna learn to swim like a mermaid."

"Okay, we'll do that," Belle agreed, thinking it would also be good exercise for her to do while she was pregnant.

When they reached the Museum, a long low brick building towards the north side of the island, close by the ferry, they all showed their ticket stubs to get into it and explore the gift shop and the interesting pictures of the building of the statue.

Rumple studied those carefully, still trying to figure out who had used magic upon the stones when they constructed the statue. He knew the task was probably impossible, and the magician most likely dead long ago, but it was an interesting way to pass the time while the others all swarmed into the gift shop.

Snow bought Regina a Statue of Liberty playset, which included a green drape, a working light-up torch, and a fabric crown. She also bought a Statue of Liberty ornament to put on their Christmas tree. David got a blue hat with the statue on it and the words Liberty and Justice For All.

Henry picked out a book about the statue with all kinds of photos and facts, and Emma bought a small snow globe with the statue in it to put on her desk at work. Bae bought a T-shirt with Liberty Island on it.

Alina got the Statue of Liberty Barbie, a limited edition collectible. Belle bought Rumple a Christmas gift, a limited edition collection of coins and stamps with the Statue on them, minted for the centennial celebration and covered in gold leaf, in a handsome leather collector's case. She also bought an ornament for their tree.

Once they had all purchased something, they met Rumple in the lobby and got back on the ferry to return to the city.

Once they were back in Manhattan, they went to eat at a small Jewish deli near the ferry that served homemade matzo ball soup, corned beef sandwiches, latkes and sugar sprinkled donuts. Belle declared the soup was to die for, with a huge matzo ball floating in a chicken broth base with pieces of shredded chicken and noodles surrounding it. "I'm going to get Alice to make this when we get home," she said. "It's amazing!"

Rumple had corned beef and sauerkraut on rye with Russian dressing, and it came with homemade potato salad and a pickle. "If you think the soup's amazing, Belle, try this." He gave her part of his sandwich, which was huge.

Snow and David raved over the latkes with applesauce (also homemade) and corned beef hash. Regina had some as well, and she actually ate her lunch without fussing this time.

Henry and Bae had something called a Thanksgiving sandwich, it was slices of turkey piled up on sourdough bread with stuffing and cranberry sauce. It came with mashed potatoes and gravy. Henry said all that was missing was the pumpkin pie, it was so good.

Emma and Alina opted for hot pastrami and Swiss on rye with sides of potato salad also. "My God," Emma said. "This pastrami is like the best I've ever tasted. I want to know where they get it."

"It's probably homemade too," said David. "Everything else here is."

For dessert they had some homemade donuts and melted chocolate sauce to dip them in. They were so good that Bae ordered a box to take back with them, along with the leftover sandwiches and salads they couldn't finish. They all agreed they could happily eat them for dinner. Belle ordered another bowl of soup to go, and Snow another portion of corned beef hash, since David devoured his.

The walk back to the hotel was refreshing and once they had arrived, most of them opted to take a nap.

Regina was whining that she wanted to play with her Ariel doll, like David had promised, so Alina and Henry volunteered to help her take a bath.

"You sure that's a good idea?" Emma said doubtfully.

Snow yawned. "I'm beat and I know Alina's responsible, she's taken care of Alexa before. She can keep an eye on Regina and Henry."

So Snow ran the water in the tub and Alina got Ariel out of Regina's bag and put her in the water, along with Regina. She turned to Henry. "You put in the bubble bath while I go get her some new clothes, okay?"

"Sure. Uh . . . how much do I put in?" he asked.

"One or two capfuls," she said, and left the bathroom.

"Make bubbles, Henry!" Regina squealed.

So Henry added a capful of bubble bath to the water. "Hmm . . . this doesn't look like enough," he said, and started to pour another capful in.

"I help!" Regina cried, and the next thing he knew, the entire bottle of bubble bath was in the tub.

"Oh no! Regina, what've you done?" he gasped.

Bubbles were foaming all over at a rapid rate. Henry gaped at them and suddenly they were overflowing onto the floor.

"Aww, crap!"

He went to shut off the faucet and slipped on some bubbles and almost fell into the tub. "Yikes!"

"Hey!" Regina cried, giggling. "You wanna take a bath too?"

"Oh, boy! Now what do we do?" he cried in dismay, as bubbles kept coming out of the tub and onto the floor. "Uh . . . Alina . . . we've got a little problem . . ."

Alina was coming back into the bathroom with some towels and Regina's pajamas when she saw the bubbles all over the floor. "Henry! What the hell's going on in here? All you had to do was pour a capful of bubble bath into the water!"

"It wasn't my fault! Regina grabbed the bottle and dumped it all in," he cried.

Regina was now splashing and making Ariel dive into the mountain of bubbles. "Yay! It's snowing!"

"Great! We'd better clean this up before one of our parents sees," Alina groaned.

"How? There's bubbles everywhere," Henry said, staring around in dismay.

Alina rolled up her sleeves. "Okay. We'll cheat."

"You mean use magic?"

"No, I thought we'd call Mr. Clean," she rolled her eyes.

"Do you know a spell to fix this?" Henry asked doubtfully.

"Sort of," Alina said. Then she flexed her fingers and concentrated.

Purple mist drifted from her fingers, becoming a phantom collection of mops and buckets.

They scurried about the bathroom, scrubbing the bubbles from the floor and vanishing the extra water as they did so.

Regina clapped her hands and threw more bubbles on the floor so the mops could clean it.

"Stop that!" Henry told her.

"Oh, let her. The spell's cleaning it up, so who cares?" Alina said.

"All right!" her nephew said, and then he grabbed a handful of bubbles and smeared them all over Regina's head.

Regina shrieked and threw bubbles at Henry.

They missed him and landed on Alina. She promptly threw bubbles back at Regina.

Faster than a New York minute, there was a full scale bubble war going on, while the mops and buckets relentlessly cleaned up whatever fell on the floor.

Henry and Alina were covered in bubbles and their clothes wet. They were all having a grand old time when they heard Emma say, "Okay, why aren't they done yet? I think something's going on in that bathroom. Hey, guys! Are you all okay?"

"Quick, lock the door!" Henry said.

Alina darted over and locked it, and at the same time she cried, "Yeah, everything's cool, Emma! Regina's just playing for a little bit."

"And so are we," Henry said.

"I'd better get her washed up," Alina said. She found a wash cloth and helped Regina wash herself and her hair.

"Okay, mermaid girl, time to get out and get dressed," she said.

"Aww! But I wanted to play more with bubbles," the child whined.

"We can do that tomorrow. Come on, or else no dessert," Alina told her.

While she dressed the toddler in her nightie and blew dry her wet hair, Henry washed out the tub and made sure all the bubbles were gone. He picked up the empty bottle of bubble bath and threw it out, saying, "What do we tell Snow when she asks where the bubble bath went?"

"Tell her the truth. It went down the drain," Alina said.

Henry laughed, then looked down at himself. "Uh . . . look at our clothes. If they see . . ."

"I know. Give me a sec," she said, then she gestured and Henry's clothes were dry.

"Neat! How'd you do that?"

"Papa taught me."

"Let me try," Henry said, and repeated the gesture, drying off Alina. "So cool!"

Regina went to grab a mop and it vanished. "Aww! Where'd it go?"

"It went back to the kitchen," Alina told her. "Can you keep a secret, Regina?"

The toddler nodded.

"Okay. Then you can't tell anybody we used magic to clean the bathroom," she said.

"Yeah. Otherwise we'll get in trouble because we didn't ask first," Henry said.

"I won't tell!"

"Zip your lips," Henry told her, and mimed zipping his lips closed.

"Lock it up and throw away the key, you ain't getting any secrets out of me," Alina recited, also repeating the gesture.

Regina copied them, then she grinned and said, "Now let's watch TV!"

When Emma checked again some fifteen minutes later, she saw all three kids on the couch, watching The Addams Family and the bathroom was sparkling clean.

"Wow! I guess Snow was right," she muttered and went to get her book from her room and finish the last chapter she was on while everyone else snoozed.

Page~*~*~*~*~Break

The next day was a do-nothing day, where they had no plans to go anywhere and spent it sleeping in and just hanging out. Bae and Emma took the kids to Central Park and played a game of catch with them, while Snow and David relaxed in bed, and Belle and Rumple did crosswords and read to each other on the couch while listening to NYC Magic Soft Rock on the radio.

Belle put her head in Rumple's lap and listened to him read aloud from her current novel, his voice so skin-strokingly rich and expressive that she could have listened to him read a phone book all day.

As he read, his fingers tangled lovingly in her hair, playing with her long tresses. He had a hair fetish, and loved playing with her hair. Since this was a day to just indulge oneself, he happily did so, while using a small bit of spellcraft to make the book turn its own pages and float in front of him so he could read without interrupting his curling and carding.

"Rumple, how are you reading to me and combing my hair at the same time?" Belle queried, her eyes half-closed as she relaxed against him and reveled in his touch.

"Oh, you know. A little bit of magic," he answered. His fingers gently rubbed and massaged her scalp.

"Maybe you should have become a masseuse instead of a pawnbroker," she said, giving a happy sigh.

"I'd sure have different clientele," he chuckled.

"On second thought—bad idea. I only want your hands running over me, not strange women."

He laughed huskily. "Then it's a good thing I'm a pawnbroker, dearie."

She caught his hand and brought it to her lips, kissing it. "Mmm . . . you've got the most magical fingers."

"Thank you," he returned. "Now all you need to do is tell me where you want them."

"Well . . ." she gave a naughty smirk, and placed his hand lower down. "How about we start here . . ."

Rumple obeyed, and the rest of the book was forgotten as they shamelessly indulged themselves in another pastime.

Page~*~*~*~*~Break

That night was Belle and Rumple's turn to go out to a fancy restaurant and experience New York's fine dining and nightlife. Rumple had chosen Babbo, Mario Batale's signature Italian restaurant, to take Belle to that night. It was said the cuisine there was like nowhere else, and he wanted to give Belle an experience she'd never forget.

That night he wore his signature Armani tux, navy Versace shirt, and gold Ferragamo tie with his black kidskin Gucci loafers. His cufflinks winked in solitary splendor as he fixed his hair and put on some spiced cologne by Ralph Lauren which he knew Belle adored.

Belle dressed in the designer Donna Karan she had purchased in a boutique while walking around with Emma and Snow two days ago, a beautiful turquoise sheath shot through with glittering golden threads, creating a look that was both mysterious and undeniably magical. It had a sweetheart neckline and she had bought matching Gucci gold heels. To it she added a simple silk shawl in soft ivory and her gold and diamond eternity knot pendant. Her hair she left loose and flowing, just the way Rumple liked it.

When her husband caught sight of her as he stepped out of the bathroom, he almost lost the power of speech. He stared in wordless appreciation at his wife, words temporarily deserting him.

Belle stared at him also, drinking in the sight of him like a dying man did water, perusing him with her brilliant blue eyes, and thinking that never had she seen anyone more desirable, from his head to his feet, he exuded a raw elegant sex appeal that rendered her mute.

The two might have remained like that for the rest of the night, but for Henry, who said, "Uh . . . why are you two just staring at each other?"

That broke the spell over them, and Gold said softly, "Shall we, Belle?" and took her arm in his and walked towards the door to the suite.

"Have a good time!" Snow and Charming chorused as the two left.

Page~*~*~*~*~*~Break

Fifteen minutes later, their cab pulled up at 110 Waverly Place, and Gold got out, holding the door for Belle as they entered the restaurant. They were ushered to a table by an impeccably dressed elderly Italian waiter wearing traditional white gloves. The restaurant was decorated with cherry Italian furniture and low amber lighting.

Arriving at the table, Belle exclaimed over the lovely centerpiece, a huge bouquet of red velvet, champagne, and peach roses in a Waterford crystal vase with a big gold bow tied around it. "Oh! That's gorgeous, Rumple!"

"It is . . . but it's not from me," he said, and went to see if there was a card beside it.

"Sir, the person who ordered this told me to give you this," his waiter said, and handed Rumple a small card with gold script.

Rumple opened it and inside it read, Have a lovely evening! Love, Snow and David. "How very thoughtful of them," he said, and handed Belle the card.

Once they were seated, their server asked what they wanted to drink, then recommended some peach bellinis as a house favorite.

"Can you make them non-alcoholic?" Belle asked. "I'm . . . umm . . . expecting and my husband doesn't drink, so . . ."

"Of course. I'll have my bartender make them up special . . . and they'll taste so good you'll never know what you're missing," the server said and then hurried away.

"This was so sweet of them," Belle said, gesturing at the roses.

"They know me too well," Rumple chuckled. "I think this is a great start to a beautiful evening."

They toasted each other with their virgin bellinis when they arrived, and Belle said, "This is like ambrosia . . . so good! And I can drink it without worrying about hurting the baby."

"Yes, and I can drink it without worrying about the next morning," her husband said with a rueful smirk. "To my beautiful wife, the new little Gold she's carrying, and a bright brilliant future." Then he drank, feeling the bellini slide down his throat in a sweet heady rush.

Belle smiled sultrily at him over the edge of her menu, saying, "Everything looks so good here, I don't know what to choose."

"Why don't you just . . . close your eyes and point to something?" Rumple suggested whimsically.

"You mean leave it up to fate?"

"Might as well, since I'd say fate had a hand in bringing us together," he remarked, his eyes crinkling with love as he gazed at her, more precious to him than all the gold and jewels in the world, a flawless diamond set in turquoise and gold perfection.

She gave him a sweet smile, and then did as he'd suggested, closing her eyes and pointing first to an antipasti, "Mmm! Mussels al la Tarentina" and then the main course. "Spicy Italian sausage romanced by mint love letters and a paste of sweet peas."

"Mint love letters?" Rumple queried. "That sounds almost too interesting to eat. Let's see now . . .I think I'll try the panelle ai funghi for my antipasti."

"What's that?"

"It's chickpea fritters with mushrooms and black garlic vinaigrette."

"Sounds divine. And what are you eating for dinner?"

"Uh . . ." he perused the menu. "I think I'll have the grilled quail with escarole with roasted garlic and shallots and a side of the goat cheese tortelloni dusted with dried fennel pollen, whatever that is."

"Sounds very interesting. I've never had quail before."

"You can have some of mine, if I can have some of yours," he bargained.

"You've got yourself a deal, sweetheart," she said, and sipped her bellini.

They sampled one another's antipasti platters, finding them as delectable as their names, the mussels dripping in a broth of white wine, garlic and butter with spices that nearly made Belle lick the plate, and Rumple's fritters were crispy, mellow, and tangy, with a slightly spicy kick.

"All right, now we need to write down the recipes," Belle said, after eating one last mussel. "So Alice can duplicate them back home."

"You got a pen and paper?"

"Uh . . . no, my purse was too small to fit them," she admitted, indicating the tiny gold evening bag hanging on her chair.

Gold snapped his fingers and a small notepad and pen appeared beside her on the table. "There we go! Now scribble away, dearie."

Belle chuckled at his wit, and began to write down what ingredients she knew were in the antipasti that she could taste and smell. She knew that most dishes were sometimes filled with simple yet tasty ingredients that complimented each other and made the whole thing taste superb.

"I think I've got them all," she said, and absently went and tucked the pen behind her ear.

Rumplestiltskin chuckled. "You still do it."

"Do what?" his wife asked.

"Put a pen or a pencil behind your ear. I remember you doing that when you cleaned and dusted in my castle," he said, his deep brown eyes twinkling.

"So I could write something down if I needed to," Belle laughed. "I know, I probably look ridiculous . . ."

"Ridiculously adorable," he said suavely.

"And you are ridiculously extravagant in your compliments, Mr. Gold," she smirked.

"Nonsense, dearie! Every word I say is the complete and utter truth. Especially where it concerns you."

She gave him a gamin grin. "You always know the right thing to say to make me feel . . . special."

"I hope so. Because you are the most special person in the world to me," he said sincerely. "Along with my children. We're going to have to start picking out names for the baby, you know."

"Shall I start a list?" she queried. "Do you have a favorite one?"

"Well . . .I've always liked the name Dylan for a boy," he said.

"I like that too. Or Alexander. And I think . . . what was your mother's name again?"

"Daria. Why?"

"Because if we end up having a girl, we ought to name her after your mother," Belle stated. "It's only fair, since Alina was named after mine."

"I never thought about it like that before. But yes, if that's what you want."

She nodded, one hand going to her stomach. "Rumple, I'm so excited for this baby. It's so . . . different now than it was when I had Alina. Not that I didn't want her too, but I had my crazy father to deal with, and there were times I was so afraid I wanted to fly into bits and pieces."

He gave her a regretful look. "I'm so sorry I wasn't there for you, Belle. If I had known . . . I would have moved heaven and earth to come to you . . . and you would never have gotten captured by Regina and become her prisoner for so long. But I was too busy consoling my stupid hurt pride to even consider that you might be . . . carrying my child."

She reached out a hand and clasped his. "Rumple . . . it wasn't your fault. We both lost our tempers that day and said things both of us regret. I never should have left . . . I should have stayed . . . even if you broke every stick of furniture in the place . . . or I should have left my father and come back to you before he ever thought of giving me to Regina . . . there are so many things I should have done, it makes me dizzy thinking about it. So . . . I won't. The past is the past, Rumple. No sense in revisiting it when it's done and over with, love."

"But you lost half your life as her prisoner . . . and you can't ever get that back," he said, his eyes shimmering with myriad emotions.

"I know. I lost you, I lost Alina, and all the time I could have spent with you as a family. And that's the one thing I truly regret. That I missed watching my daughter grow up, missed being there for you and for her. But I'm here now, and I'm going to do my best to not miss another moment of either of your lives, Rumple. If there was one thing I learned in that asylum, it's that when you find something worth fighting for, you never give up. And even though they tried to make me forget, I never could, and I always always knew that I would return to you someday . . . and to her." She rubbed her tummy and said, her eyes sparkling with unshed tears, "But now . . . now I have a chance with this baby to do it all right, the way it should have been with Alina."

"You mean, we have the chance to do it right," Gold corrected. "Not a day went by, Belle, that I didn't think about you, miss you, and I could hardly stand to talk about you at all to Alina. I'm afraid I wasn't very fair to her, because I refused to discuss her mother with her, and thank God she's never resented me for it. But I was afraid I'd fall apart if I did, and the last thing she needed was for her father to become a puddle of salt water."

"Oh, Rumple! I'm sure she would have understood. She has her father's perception."

"And your heart, Belle."

"She has the best of both of us, Rumple. Just like this baby will, when he or she is born. The only difference will be that this little one will have us both from the beginning. I guess we're lucky that our daughter doesn't resent this baby for having what she never did—me."

"Alina doesn't have a resentful bone in her body, Belle. She told me once that having you here was like a miracle, and she would never question why it happened, but just be grateful it did. I think she'll be a great elder sister."

"I think so too. She was already planning how to help me by making a temporary schedule for when the baby comes home," Belle said, wiping the tears away.

"That's my girl," Rumple smiled proudly. "She's always planning. I think she gets that from you."

"No, from you. Don't tell me you didn't plan half your deals out in advance."

"Well, I anticipated a lot of them," he chuckled.

"We need to decide on a theme for the nursery."

"Yes, and pick out some more furniture. And some toys and books."

"Emma said Snow and she were going to have a baby shower for me," Belle told him.

"That's fine, but we're still going shopping together when we get home," he said firmly.

"Okay, sweetheart. We'll do that. You're the only man I know who doesn't feel . . . awkward saying he's going shopping with his wife," Belle said impishly.

Rumple snorted. "There's nothing for me to feel awkward about, Belle. You're having my child and I want to be a part of everything we do for it. From picking out a name to picking out furniture. From fixing up the nursery to going with you to see the doctor. And I could care less what anyone thinks about it . . . except for you."

"I want you there, Rumple. Right up until I put that baby in your arms. Every step of the way."

"Then I'll be there, dearie. With bells on," he added with a roguish grin.

Their dinner arrived, and it surpassed all their expectations. Each of them fed the other from their plates, sighing in rapture over the exquisite tastes they experienced.

When it came time for dessert, Rumple said, "You might want to wait a bit before you order, Belle. Because I have a surprise for you."

He pulled a rather square white box out from his jacket pocket, and enlarged it with a mere flick of a finger. "This is for you. To celebrate the baby and to celebrate our family."

Belle took the box and opened it.

Inside was a book . . . but it was not like any book she'd ever read. For it was made entirely of chocolate, with gilded writing across the cover, surrounded by caramel shavings. In gold frosting letters was written Once Upon a Time—Our Family. It had a drawing of a rattle in red gel on it and below it in smaller letters was a heart and the letter R.

"Oh! How did you do this?" Belle gasped in awe.

"I had the confectioners over at FAO Schweetz do it. I just told them what I wanted. It's a chocolate torte made with premium Belgian chocolate and the inside is strawberry mousse. I hope it tastes as good as it looks," said her husband, and he grinned like a child at Christmastime.

"I don't want to eat it!"

"What are you going to do, put it on your bookshelf?" he teased. "For once, my Belle, you can be a real bookworm, and devour a book—literally!"

She started laughing then. "I love you, Rumple!"

Then she picked up a knife and cut into the treat.

Rumple had been right. It did taste as good as it looked. A rich dark chocolate with sinfully sweet strawberry mousse inside, an irresistible combination of dark and light . . . like the man she had married.

Page~*~*~*~*~Break

They lingered after dinner at the table, listening to some musicians playing old Italian love songs on the guitar, accordion, and cello, including Bella Notte, which made Belle long to kiss Rumple senseless. It certainly was a beautiful night, and she did have stars in her eyes, from gazing at her beloved sorcerer.

Rumple asked for the check after the song was over, thinking he'd best get back to the Plaza before he forgot his manners and pulled Belle on his lap and practiced some new forms of magic involving his hands, mouth, and another pointed object.

"Sir, your bill has already been paid," said the maitre'd.

"What? How is that possible?" Gold demanded.

"Well, before you arrived here, someone named Bae called here and requested that we use his Visa card and charge whatever you two ordered for dinner to him. He said it was a thank you gift."

"I don't . . .that's just . . ." he stammered.

"You've certainly taught him well," Belle murmured.

Rumple blushed slightly. "I can't take all the credit for that. His adopted parents were good people, from what I understand."

"Like father, like son," Belle chuckled, then she picked up her purse and followed Rumple out the door into the steamy Manhattan night.

Page~*~*~*~*~Break

They arrived back at the suite around midnight—the witching hour—as Belle put it, carrying the vase with the roses, which she set down on the kitchen table after they'd come inside.

"I'll show you a witch, dearie!" Gold purred, coming up to her from behind and wrapping his arms about her. He began to playfully kiss the back of her neck, trailing kisses from her jaw down to her collarbone, making her throw her head back onto his shoulder in ecstasy.

"Rumple!" she moaned. "Anyone can see us!"

"They're all asleep . . . but let's go into our room, just in case . . ." he half-growled.

She kicked off her heels, leaving them beside the table, just as he picked her up and walked into their room with her in his arms.

He shoved the door shut with his foot before sitting on the bed with her on his lap. "Now, where were we?" he queried, and picked up where he'd left off.

By the time he'd kissed and caressed her up and down both sides of her neck, she had undid his tie and he shimmied out of his jacket. Clad only in shirtsleeves and trousers, he resumed his seduction, unzipping her gown leisurely.

He carefully slipped it over her head, and she was dressed only in a soft silky slip. "My God, you've got more layers than an onion!" he snickered, his hands everywhere at once, making her burn hotter than a midsummer night bonfire on the beach.

"Shut up, you! I haven't even gotten your shirt off!" she pointed out, her hands going to his collar and beginning to undo the buttons.

"Not my fault!" he declared.

"Why do men's shirts have so many buttons?" she muttered, half-exasperatedly. "What are you hiding?"

"Thought you knew, dearie," he smirked, kissing her hard. "It's something only you can tame, my beauty."

"Rumple, you sexy beast!" she murmured throatily, and shoved him down on the bed.

Several minutes later he was minus his shirt and pants and they were lying on the bed, half-tangled in the sheets, happily celebrating a very passionate end to their beautiful evening.

Gold was kissing Belle's ear, his hands buried in her hair, making her whimper in pleasure when a small voice said from behind him, "Unca Rumple, I'm thirsty and can't open this water."

They both froze.

Belle's eyes widened and she hissed, "Christ, Rumple! Is that-?"

"Aww, hell no!" he gasped, trying to yank the sheet over himself, while slowly turning his head . . .

. . . to see Regina standing there in her Ariel nightgown, holding a bottle of water in her little hand. He hadn't even heard the door open . . . and now there she was.

He tried to clear a throat gone dry with utter mortification. Crap, how much did she see? "Uh . . . umm . . ."

"Unca Rumple, whatcha doin'?"

Making whoopie, Belle thought, feeling herself blush redder than the roses in the bouquet on the table. God help us!

"Playing a game, dearie," Rumple managed to get out, feeling himself turning the color of an apple.

"What kinda game?"

"Err . . . uh . . ." he gestured wordlessly at Belle. Help me out here!

"It's called . . . uh . . . the EMT game," Belle said, frantically trying to come up with something. "Uncle Rumple's . . . umm . . . reviving me . . . like they do on the TV . . ."

" . . . when somebody drowns . . ." Rumple added, wondering if it were possible to drop dead of embarrassment. Damn it, where were his cufflinks? "Belle . . . get the sheet . . ."

"I'm trying . . ." she hissed. "Move your . . . leg . . ."

"Unca Rumple . . . the water's stuck . . ."

"Okay, dearie. I need you to . . . go into the kitchen . . . and get a . . . uh . . .can opener . . ."

"Where?"

"Somewhere . . . just . . . get one . . ."

"Okay . . ." they heard her feet padding across the room. "Aren't you coming?" she called, pausing at the threshold.

"Yes . . . I just . . . need to . . . er . . ." get my damn clothes on . . . please, just get the hell out . . . " . . . get on my slippers, so . . . you go get the can opener, dearie . . . hurry up . . ."

"'Kay!" she said brightly, and scurried off into the kitchenette.

Rumple almost collapsed on top of Belle. "Holy f—never mind!" he blurted, and quickly got to his feet, wrapped in the sheet and closed the door.

"Rumple! Did she see . . ."

"I don't know! I didn't even hear the damn door open! Where the hell are my pants?"

"On the floor . . . I think . . ."

He managed to grab a pair of his sweats and a T-shirt, yanking them on, stuffed his feet into his slippers, and then headed out the door, still red as a sunset, after tossing the sheet over Belle. He prayed the little girl wasn't scarred for life. Then again, maybe he shouldn't worry about it, because he was scarred for life just thinking about what she might have seen . . .

"Unca Rumple, I can't find it!" Regina whined.

He found her standing in the kitchenette, holding the bottle of water, before an open cabinet.

"Here, Regina," he said, and took the bottle from her little hands and twisted the cap off.

"Thanks!" she said, drinking eagerly.

"What are you doing up? It's way past your bedtime, dearie," he said, swallowing hard.

"I woke up to go potty and I was thirsty," she said, holding the water in one hand. "An' I couldn't get the water open an' Mommy and Daddy were sleepin', so I came to get you an' saw the light on . . ."

Next time I'm locking the damn door! "Oh . . . err . . . okay, dearie. Now it's time for all little girls to go to sleep."

He gently took the water bottle from her and put it on the table.

"Roses!" she cried upon seeing the bouquet.

"Yes, you can smell them tomorrow. Now let's go back to bed," he said, picking her up and bringing her back into the room she shared with the Charmings, who were blissfully dreaming and unaware of their daughter's nocturnal ramblings. He carefully tucked her back into bed and whispered, "Goodnight, dearie!" before kissing her on the cheek.

"Night, Unca Rumple!" she lisped, kissing him back. "Sweet dreams!"

Flushing, he closed the door behind him and returned to his own room, locking the door. "Sweet dreams, my ass! Belle . . . you awake . . . Belle . . ."

A dark head poked up from the pillow. "Rumple . . . oh . . . my . . . God!"

"Talk about a surprise ending . . ." he muttered, and climbed back into bed.

"Rumple . . . you left your slippers on."

"Ahh . . . forgot about those . . ."

It was a beautiful night . . . sort of.