He finally made good on his promise to return. It may have been two weeks later but he returned. Emma had confronted him the day after, asking about payment for the door and his real reason for being there. He wrote out a check without pause but denied complying with Emma's interrogations.

"You had better figure out what's going through her head, and you had better help her make a decision," Emma had warned him.

"Or what?" He sneered back at her.

"If all you do is lead her on and then hurt her," Emma whispered, glaring at him, "You'll have me to deal with."

He would never do anything that could hurt her, not intentionally, but he couldn't let Emma know that, so he had played along, "Why so protective? You've only known her for two months."

"She's a friend, and a good one. I don't want to see her get hurt and from what I've seen, that's something you're good at. Hurting people."

He had used to enjoy a playful bantering with the sheriff, but at that point she was only getting on his nerves, "The only thing that's ever gonna hurt her," he very nearly growled, "are those damn horses she's so fond of." He ripped out the check and handed it to her, thankful she didn't say anything else as she took it and left.

So now here he was, making good on his promise to check up on her. Two weeks later.

It was a beautiful sunny day, very nearly seventy degrees. The sky was bright and the birds were chirping. He knew she was home, he'd inquired about it to Miss Blanchard the day before, and with the knowledge that today Belle had the afternoon and evening off work and enjoyed spending time off around her apartment, catching up on house work and laundry, he decided today would be a good afternoon to check in on her.

He knocked on the door, hand shaking in anticipation of seeing her again, hopefully up and around and not bed ridden. He didn't receive and answer. Deciding to twist the handle, instead of breaking the brand new door, he found it unlocked, and stepped inside. The girl really was too trusting for her own good. Evil had been banished to this world as well as good, though she had no idea of the difference. He expected to find her sitting on a couch, nose stuck in a book, unaware of her surroundings until he made a sound.

Instead he found the apartment empty. Dripping dishes were drying on a rack by the sink, and a book lay face down and open on a glass coffee table beside a bowl of caramel and chocolate graham crackers. The windows were open and a warm breeze toyed with the ends of yellow curtains, flowing nicely with the maple wood floors and blue rugs. He heard a soft cooing outside the window at the end of the hallway, and went to investigate.

"What are you doing up there?" He asked, looking at her high up in a tree outside, hand outstretched towards a messy looking nest.

She jumped at his voice, looking around and then realizing he was inside, "What are you doing in there?" she laughed. He didn't answer, and she wondered if she had imagined his company. She returned to her task of making sure the small chick was back in the nest, hoping the mother would return. If it didn't, she would hand rear the small bird until it was able to fly.

In the two weeks between seeing him she had ample time to cool off and realize maybe just a friendly relationship wouldn't be so bad. But the more time she cooled off the more she thought about him, and the more she realized she might want more than just friendship. She didn't often remember her dreams but the one she did remember… Well it had certainly made her think. And she had acted on her thoughts by placing something in addition to the money in the envelope for when he came to collect.

"I asked first," he was standing below her now, free hand shielding his eyes from the sun so he could see her better.

"The poor dear fell, and he's a long way from being able to fly. I'm giving him a second chance." She smiled down at Mr. Gold and began her descent towards the ground, nerves making her legs shaky.

"I was simply coming to collect an overdue payment," he answered her question.

"You're a little late," she bit her tongue as she struggled to find decent footing.

"Just by two weeks. And you were unfit to work, it was only proper that I delay collection so long as you had no income."

She stopped and looked at him, "Something tells me that I'm the only one you make that allowance for."

They locked eyes for a moment. One moment to long. The branch Belle had been holding onto for support snapped and she lost her balance, plummeting to the ground. Mr. Gold let go of his cane and it fell forgotten in the grass. Ignoring the pain of putting weight on his right leg he took two steps forward and had just enough time to balance himself entirely on his good leg before Belle landed perfectly safe in his arms. She looked up into his face. "Thank you," she whispered. She slid semi-gracefully out of his hold and onto her own two feet. "Thank you," She said again, a little louder this time.

He took a step back, "No matter," his voice shook, not with astonishment this time, but with hope that something would trigger that this, this moment, had happened before. She bent down, picking up his cane and handing it to him, and that brought him back to the reality that this life was not that life, and she may never remember what they had, and what he'd ruined, "I'm only giving you a second chance." She smiled at his reference to her comment from before, and he returned it. A full smile this time, not half. It was small, but it was full, and she noticed.

"I have the money," she ended the silence and walked around the corner of the building and towards her door. He stayed there, lost in the memory. She peeked back around the corner, "You do still want it, right?"

"If you insist," he complied.

"Well don't just stand there, come inside," she invited him, "you've certainly had no trouble doing that in the past." She disappeared again and he followed, catching the door as she held it open for him with her foot, rummaging through a drawer on a stand beside the door. She procured a business envelope. "Here it is," she handed it to him and he took it, "Every penny,"

He flipped open the envelope and rifled quickly through the bills, pretending to hastily count them, but really his mind was occupied. What would he do to ruin their meeting this time? "Indeed," he half-smiled, "I'll be on my way then," He decided to end the exchange now while it was somewhat amicable.

"Will I see you a month from today then? Or a month from the original payment date?" she asked as he was exiting the door.

He turned and looked at her questioningly. She was biting her lip again. "Well," he swallowed, "I should hope we meet again before either of those dates. Don't you?" He didn't hang around for an answer; only shut the door quietly behind him.

Belle started to beam as his words sank in, and sank down onto the plushy black couch, picking up her book and popping a caramel smothered cracker in her mouth, not focusing a single bit on the words she was reading.

The proud and mighty Rumplestiltskin made his way back to his shop for the evening, a bounce in his step, his head held high for the first time in ages. Of course that evil witch would choose today, this time, this spot, to pick on him. But he was going to do a damn good job of picking right back.

"Mr. Gold, you're looking particularly joyous this afternoon," she sneered a greeting, walking beside him on the sidewalk, "I wonder what about."

He stopped walking, turning to face her, "The very thing I've been meaning to discuss with you for about a month or two now, dear Regina."

"Well you know where to find me, what kept you?" She grinned a fake grin.

"Just struggling to find the right… words." He resumed walking.

"Well if you've finally chosen them I'm here and listening," she followed.

"Oh no, I've decided to avoid words. Actions do speak louder, after all."

"Mr. Gold you should be careful what actions you decide to talk. We are in public, after all."

"Indeed we are," he stopped in front of the door to his shop. "For now. Be careful where you find yourself later, Regina. Wouldn't want a horrible… ah… accident to happen. Especially in your own home," his face was cold and unreadable as he lifted up his cane and examined the handle.

"Is that a threat?" she glared at him.

"Let's call it a premonition. Have a nice night," he turned and opened the door, stepping into his shop, "Your majesty." He walked to his back room, head still held high and demeanor bursting with victory. He knew she would never follow him into his own domain, not after that conversation. Oh but if she did. All sorts of top heavy piles just waiting to fall over, and dangerous artifacts that he had no idea that's what they did. He settled into a chair and imagined more ways to end Regina's life, as he went through mail he picked up earlier in the day, setting Belle's envelope at the bottom. He tore through bills, bank statement, advertisements, card offers, none of it important until he finally reached the unlabeled one given to him only an hour ago.

He still did not count the money, only tossed the envelope in the safe, trying to create some way to return the funds to her. Perhaps he could pull some strings at the bank and have the money transferred to her anonymously. No, she was too clever to not suspect him. Maybe he could periodically leave the money in places only she would stumble across. No, she would blame him for that, too.

He took the junk mail and bank statements and shredded them, turning to his current project of restoring the genie lamp to its former glory. He didn't look in the envelope, and didn't take the money out, so he didn't see the note tucked between the bills. He didn't read the invitation to meet Belle at the docks on Thursday morning to see a sunrise.

Belle had gone back to work the week before and worked as if she hadn't had two weeks off. She was still just as good at her tasks, pausing every now and again to clutch her side, and she was still just as fond of the horse. This cold and damp Wednesday evening was not much different than the others. Yet.

Her mind was preoccupied with the next morning's rendezvous with Mr. Gold, so when the water spout stopped working and the water trough wasn't filling, Belle didn't pay much attention as she turned the water off and kneeled down to inspect the pipe. Belle didn't notice the footsteps in the gravel and she didn't sense the presence behind her.

Gloved hands grabbed her, one under her shoulder and another in her hair, lifting her up and pushing her head under water in the trough. Wednesdays had a tendency to be rough days. Belle struggled and kicked, throwing out her elbows and finally making a connection. Her head was pulled above the water, but just barely, loose strands of hair dipping beneath the surface. She gasped for breathe, a task made extremely difficult due to the hand pressing into her mending ribs.

"I'm only going to say this once," a woman's voice she didn't recognize hissed in her ear, "And it's for your own good. Stay away from Mr. Gold. You will only get hurt. He doesn't care for you. He doesn't care for anyone but himself," as a not so gentle reminder, one hand squeezed tighter on her ribs and the other dunked her head back underwater for just a second before Belle was pushed down into the mud.

As Belle clutched at her side, struggling to breathe, she tried to get a good image of her perpetrator despite her waterlogged and blurry eyes. She only caught a glimpse of a woman wearing a gray skirt and matching jacket, with short black hair. Regardless of the little she saw, Belle knew exactly who it was. She would recognize the mayor anywhere. "We'll see just how much he cares," Belle whispered to herself, struggling to her feet and wiping hair out of her face. "We'll see."

She slept fitfully that night, plagued by the usual dreams, and forgetting the bulk of them soon after she woke up. Her alarm went off at six in the morning and at first in her delirium she was wondering how it had been set wrong. Then she jumped out of bed as she remembered she was going to meet Mr. Gold this morning. Sunrise was a little after 6:30 but she wanted to be there to see the colors beforehand. She swallowed down some almost burnt toast with globs of peanut butter as she changed her outfit multiple times, finally settling on her favorite pair of denim jeans and a blue and white sweater. She brushed her teeth, making sure she didn't have peanut butter stuck anywhere, and messily tied her hair back. She gave herself a second and third once over in the mirror before leaving her apartment.

She moseyed past the closed up shops, gazing up at the brightest of stars and the lightening sky. She took a path that led her past Mr. Gold's shop, noticing that there was a light on inside. She wondered if she should knock and stop in, or just head down to the waterside. Perhaps he was already there waiting for her and had left the light on, knowing he would be back soon. She opted to head straight to the docks.

She should have knocked. It would have woken him up. He'd spent the night in the shop, having fallen asleep in his chair at the desk in the back, hard at work and deep in thought. He hadn't gotten much sleep since the nights after seeing Belle on Sunday, which was typical after seeing her. So when sleep finally overtook him, he didn't fight it. He knew he had nowhere to be early on Thursday morning, he would be able to head home and freshen up when he awoke, and still be back to open up at a reasonable hour. Not that he would have many visitors.

Belle walked to the edge of the wooded walkway sticking out into the water. The one she had chosen had no boats tethered to it, allowing her a clear view of the glassy surface around her. She shivered as she stood at the edge of the dock and the ocean breeze toyed with her hair. The harbor was mostly protected by wave breakers and rock walls. She was glad she had chosen this location instead of the rock beach where wind and crashing waves would make conversation near impossible. Perhaps another day. She looked behind her, searching for another being besides herself. Why wasn't he here yet? He didn't strike her as the type to arrive late for anything.

He blinked as he started to wake up, looking out at the pink and blue sky. His conversation with Belle about sunsets and sunrises brought a smile to his face. He lifted his head off the desk and stretched, grabbing his cane and flipping off the light.

Belle had kicked off her socks and shoes and rolled up her pant legs, sitting on some steps from the dock to the water and dipping her feet in. She didn't even watch the sunrise, her heart sinking as the sun rose. She just kept looking behind her, waiting for him to show up. By now the sun had slowed its climb, and the sky was predominately blue. The words of the mayor rattled in her mind. 'He doesn't care for you. He doesn't care for anyone but himself.' Other voices joined the echoes of the mayor's. 'If only he had come.' 'Well he didn't, did he?' A single tear slipped out of the corner of her eye as she stared down into the water. Part of her was frustrated that she couldn't place where she had heard the other voices, but the bulk of her was torn that he hadn't come. He didn't care. She grabbed her socks and shoes and put them on wet feet, trudging back home, hands stuffed in her pockets, head drooped in disappointment.

As she walked she tried to think of reasons why he hadn't come. Maybe he was sick, or possibly injured. Maybe he had prior engagements and couldn't get ahold of her to let her know. Or maybe he didn't even get the message. No, that last one wasn't possible. He had to have at least seen it when looking in the envelope, but he most certainly would have found it when counting out the money. And there were plenty of ways to let her know he wouldn't be able to make it. A phone call, a letter, even a message through Emma. She decided he was unable to make it due to something physical.

Those deductions were quickly put to rest when she went back past his shop and peeked in the window where the light had been. It was off now, which meant either the bulb decided to burn out in the last forty-five minutes, or he had been there. She roughly swallowed, lip trembling, and headed for home. Thank goodness she had the day off because right now she needed to be alone. And once her emotions settled down and the redness left her eyes, she had someone she needed to visit.