A week passed and things settled into a new norm. Belle and Mr. Gold began most of their days at the kitchen table over toast (she had begun to make two pieces instead of one, considering he had the nasty habit of stealing her food), she would head off to work and he would ready himself and head off to his shop. They would join each other for lunch in various places, his shop, the park, Granny's, home, wherever she picked, he would meet her there. She would return home before him, a combination of her earlier start to the work day and his after work business to take care of with the local citizens. While alone in the house she started to organize and tidy up the place. Soon she discovered he had quite a bit of floor space in some of the rooms she used to consider cramped. She would also make dinner and have it ready by the time he got home. The time after dinner was spent… together. Belle never did get to try out the guest bed. She didn't mind.

Today was Sunday, the first Sunday in May, which meant he had several payments to collect before opening up. Belle had already headed off to work so he took advantage of his early morning to make a few calls before opening the shop. He decided to visit Granny's to collect and get a coffee after terrifying the pharmacist and receiving that payment.

He waited for his coffee, apparently there was some issue with the brewer and his order was not a priority over the lovesick Snow and Charming's. So he waited. And was painfully aware of eyes boring into him. He glanced over at the wolf-girl, seeing her biting the end of a pen and looking straight at him. He shot her a nasty glare when she made eye contact and she blushed and turned back to the coffee pot. His relationship with Belle clearly wasn't a secret, but it was exclusive. He only hoped Ruby was aware of that, and shuddered at what could have been going through her head.

He realized someone else's gaze was trained on him and he casually looked over his shoulder to see the motorcyclist lounging in a booth and suspiciously eyeing him over his glass of water. Rumplestiltskin shifted uncomfortably as he took his coffee to go from Ruby, left the diner, and headed to his shop, very aware of two lingering gazes.

His morning was uneventful, and he was quite disappointed when Belle could not meet him for lunch. Something about an expectant mother and needing to be there. He didn't pay too much attention to the details. He was busy watching the leather clad biker leaning against a wall across the street, looking right into Mr. Gold's pawn shop. A thought briefly crossed his mind, but he shooed it away. That would be… impossible. Right?

"Are you listening to me?" her voice scolded from the phone.

"Yes." He lied.

"So we're in agreement that you'll wear a dress in public?"

"What?" he shouted into the phone.

She laughed, "Relax. I knew you weren't listening. So I'll ask again: what do you want for dinner?"

He sighed in relief. That woman would be the death of him someday. He didn't mind. "Anything you want, love." He looked across the street. The man had vanished, "I have to go."

"Okay. Please eat something for lunch. I'll see you tonight." He heard her click the phone off and he smiled as he pocketed his. She would never tell him she loved him over the phone: too false. Sentiments like that should only be shared face to face. She also would never say goodbye. According to her there was no such thing and such a horrid phrase shouldn't exist.

He meandered into his back room and slumped into his chair. What on Earth was that shady character doing? And why did the man suddenly have an interest in him? The bell above the door jingled, and Mr. Gold rose, anticipating some answers to his questions. He had barely rounded his desk when the curtain separating the shop floor from the back room was pulled back and the shady character in question appeared.

"And what can I do for you?" he flashed the man his most intimidating smile, hoping to scare him off, and took a few steps forward.

The bloody bastard just grinned back, "I'm looking for some answers."

"Maybe we can work something out, considering I'm searching for the same thing. But first," he paused, "I need your name."

"Ah, I had a feeling you would ask that." The man started to pace, almost… circling him? "You, like me, believe in something."

"And what, pray tell," Gold snarled, "is this 'something'?"

The man paused, making eye contact, "That names have power. Don't they, Rumplestiltskin?"

He only let the shock cross his face a moment, and quickly recovered, smirking, "You've been talking to Henry."

"You know I keep hearing about this Henry kid," the stranger resumed his circling, "I've only met him a handful of times. He sounds like he knows what he's talking about. But no, I came up with this theory on my own."

"What theory?" he spat.

"That you're Rumplestiltskin." The man answered bluntly.

"What makes you think that?" his mind was spinning, trying to place this fool who so arrogantly strode into his domain and practically challenged him. What did he want? What was his purpose? He couldn't possibly have found… no. He couldn't have.

"I noticed things. Noticed you. Noticed your… houseguest. You see I know a little bit about everybody in this town. But I'm not here to tell you who I am, or even to talk about who you are. I found something. I want to know what its worth." The two men were standing next to each other, and the most unwelcome guest pulled a folded piece of paper from his jacket and held it out to Gold.

He took it, and opened it, looked at it for a bit. Felt his stomach drop and the blood drain from his face. He folded it up and handed it back to the man, "That's not worth anything," He walked away and onto the shop floor, fully intending to show him out the door, maybe literally kick him out, just for good measure.

The epitome of arrogance, he followed onto the floor but then settled himself comfortably against the glass counter, crossing his arms. "Oh I didn't dare bring the real thing. I've got that kept in a nice safe place. I was going to keep it to play with on a rainy day, but I think I've found another use for it. So I'll ask again. What is it worth? More specifically, what is it worth to you?"

"It won't work. Not here. Certainly you've tried and figured that out on your own." He could feel his blood boiling, the twisted half of his conscience telling him to kill the boy now. But the sensible part of him knew that he would be right where he started, that blasted dagger floating around and him having no idea of its whereabouts.

"Yeah, I tested it out a couple times. I do know that it will still let me take your power, should I decide to end you. But someday, this place is going to fall apart. Maybe even literally. And when that day comes, you're going to wish you had it in your own possession, and I'm going to wish I had you as an ally."

"Are you making a deal with me?" Gold slightly relaxed. This was more comfortable and familiar, this was something he could control.

"No, not right now. I want you to think about your reasons for wanting to live. And then tonight, you'll meet me at your cabin in the woods. And you'll tell me yes, or no."

"I don't understand. What is anybody getting out of this?"

The stranger eyed him stonily, "We need your power to win. Now we can either make an unquestionable alliance, or I can sacrifice myself and take it from you. Either way I get what I want. You need to decide if you would rather live, or die." He paused a moment, letting the option sink in, "August. My name is August W. Booth, and I hope you have a nice day Mr. Gold. I'll see you later tonight." August left the shop, waving over his shoulder, leaving Rumplestiltskin to boil and stew over this new turn of events.

Belle was just putting a casserole on the table when she heard him come in. And felt. The mirror on the wall behind her shook with the aftershock of the door slamming. "Rum?" she called out warily. She heard angry footfalls as he stamped his way into the study, and slammed the door to that, too. She knew then that something was seriously wrong. She hadn't been living here long but he had never closed the door to the den. She remembered this side of him. It had usually ended in something exploding, but without his magic how would he vent?

She ditched the oven mitts on the table beside the casserole and walked into the main room, past where he had ripped his suit jacket after yanking it down on a coat hook so hard, over the tie he had shed and thrown on the floor, through the sitting room, almost tripping on a shoe he had kicked off, and to the closed door of the study. Knocking quietly she called out to him, "Rum, dinners on the table. Will you come eat?"

There was a thud against the wall. She figured it was his other shoe, and that it meant no. "Can I come in?" she called. She heard some slamming of drawers and the smack of something against the top of the desk. There was some brief clinking and then all was quiet. She tentatively reached out and took the handle of the door and, upon finding it unlocked, opened it.

He was leaning against the wall, looking out a window, one hand in his pocket and the other holding a glass of whiskey. She would almost think he was in a perfectly relaxed mood. But she knew he only drank when he didn't understand, and she had heard the way he shut the doors. She knew now was not a good time to make jokes, and she probably shouldn't even be bothering him.

She didn't push her luck by going to him. She knew he wouldn't hurt her but she didn't want to upset him more, so she pulled herself up to sit on the desk and waited for him to talk to her. She watched him for a good five minutes, seeing his jaw twitch as he ground his teeth, watching him down glass after glass. Finally he spoke, "What do you know about August?"

August? August the month August? What was so important about that? "Umm… It's… I don't… I'm not sure I understand what you're getting at."

He scowled at her, "August. The man with the motorcycle."

"Ah, I see. His name is August?"

"August W. Booth," he informed her, mockingly

"I think he and Emma get along, you'd do better asking her. Is this about him?"

"I think I know why he came to town." He took another drink and left his place by the window to sink into the desk chair. He leaned forward and scowled, "I think he might be here to try and kill me."

Belle's world stopped turning for a moment, synchronized with the momentary pause of her heart. "Why would you think that?" she squeaked out.

"He told me as much. Just this afternoon. Came into my shop and practically threatened me into doing what he wanted." He had put the glass aside and placed his chin on his folded arms.

"What did he want?" Belle lovingly stroked his hair as he tipped his head to rest against her thigh. She was trying to be strong for him, and not fall apart. Someone had threatened his life and she was ready to come undone at the seams, but she had to be strong for him.

"He wants me to pick a side. If I don't pick his, he'll kill me."

"The casserole is getting cold." Belle whispered, "Come eat." She slid off the desk and took his hand as he followed her to the table. She was about halfway through her helping when she spoke again, "How long do you have?"

"Tonight." He tried not to notice how all the color drained from Belle's face. There was a knock at the door, and she went even paler. "It's just the sheriff." He told her as he rose and went to answer it, throwing the napkin from his lap on the table. Belle didn't listen to their exchange, she could only hear the blood pounding in her ears. Was this a trap? Set up by Regina? Who was this August and what side was he on? What side of what?

She knew Rumplestiltskin didn't like to pick sides. She knew he played up to both ends, never worried about who won or lost, only what was in it for him. She didn't think it made him selfish, just opportunistic. But now someone was going to force him to do something he clearly did not wish to do, and if he did not comply… she couldn't imagine life without him again. It would be worse because she would remember. She would know he was gone, forever. And he wouldn't be coming back.

"Hey," Emma smiled meekly from the doorway to the dining room. Belle was jerked from her thoughts and looked back at her with watery eyes, not returning the smile. She leaned in her chair trying to see around Emma.

"Where'd he go? Is he back in the study?" She needed to tell him that whatever this man wanted, he needed to make his own decisions. Don't worry about what it would do to her, do what he himself needed to do. She would be fine, she would move on. Truthfully, she probably wouldn't, but she shook it off. That was later, this was now.

"Yeah… he… took off." Emma rubbed the back of her head, trying to cope with the awkwardness. Gold had stopped by an hour or so ago and called in that favor she owed. Emma was to stay with Belle at the house and under no circumstances was Belle allowed to leave. He needed to sort some things out and he might not come back. If that was the case, it was up to Emma to take care of Belle. Emma was also not allowed to interfere in any way, despite the legal shadiness of the situation.

"He what?" Belle's eyes widened in terror and panic, "He left? He's gone?" Belle shot up out of the chair but was promptly pushed back down by Emma.

"He's taking care of some things. He told me to keep you here."

"Taking care of some things?" She scoffed, "He's going to be killed, Emma. You have to stop it! August is going to kill him!"

In her head Emma knew that if that's what this was about, she was completely and entirely obligated to interfere. But no matter how hard she tried, something was keeping her from doing anything but drag Belle into the sitting room and set her down in a couch, trying to calm her down. After what seemed like an eternity, Belle had finally sobbed herself to sleep, and Emma could finally relax.

Meanwhile Mr. Gold stormed down the sidewalks of Storybrooke straight past Granny's Diner and into the Bed and Breakfast behind it. Regina may have the mother lode of skeleton keys but he had a few of his own, and they served their purpose well. He glanced at the box of room keys on the wall behind the counter and saw that only one was missing. He very nearly silently made his way up to room two, pausing a moment to listen at the door, and slipped his key into the lock, the door swinging wide.

A quick glance around the room told him the bloody sap was probably already out in the woods waiting for him. He paused and closed his eyes, trying to see if he could sense the daggers presence. It was worth the time to make sure the dagger wasn't strategically left behind, make sure he wasn't being swindled and tricked into captivity. Wherever it was, if it was even around, it wasn't nearby. He looked in drawers and under the mattress, peeked behind the dresser and checked the walls and floor for hidden compartments, just to be sure.

When he was satisfied the room was empty of his second most coveted possession, he left and headed to his home in the woods, trying to figure out how this happened in the first place. Oh yeah, all bloody magic comes at a bloody price. He doesn't regret what he did. He got a fantastic week with his Belle. But now he had to decide. Offer to serve and obey an individual side of the war effort? Or hope that by the grace of the Gods he would be reunited with Belle in the afterlife. It should be an easy choice, one he should be able to make without any moment of hesitation. But he is a coward, and being freed from this worldly prison certainly has its perks.

He wishes he would have taken the car as his bad leg starts to stiffen and each step gets more agonizing, both mentally and physically. Then he feels it. The pull of the dagger, and he knows now for sure that this blasted incompetent moron truly did stumble upon it. He sees the reflection of the moon on the pond through the trees and knows he is close. Knows he must make a decision. He slows and watches August pace along the side of the pond, turning when he hears Gold's shoes on the gravel path in front of the cabin.

"Have you made up your mind?" He calls. Rumplestiltskin can see the glint of his toothy smile in the moonlight.

"I'll be honest, I haven't." he sniffs as August approaches him.

"Oh, good. That makes things easier." He pauses a few feet in front of him, and Gold leans heavily on his cane, "You see I had a little time to do some thinking myself. And I kept coming back to the same conclusion," he raised the dagger, prepping to run at him. "It's better all-around if those powers are mine."

Now is not the time to be cowardly, but Rumplestiltskin takes a step back, "Careful boy," he warns him, "Power can be very seductive. But trust me when I say," he gestures to himself, "You can't handle this." He's referring to both the power and his own physical abilities.

"Try me," August snarls, and runs at him. He braces himself, and uses August's own momentum to swing him around, but the dagger still catches him in his side. He crushes his arm against August's windpipe, but knows it's only a matter of time before the man recovers and kills him. He doesn't have time to process what his next move is because he is wrenched away and thrown to the ground. As he recovers he realizes he isn't being pursued. In fact, there is a battle going on and he isn't even involved. There's a giant splash as something, or someone, falls into the pond. The moonlight catches on something near the door. His dagger, on the ground, completely forgotten. He drags himself over to it, the pain in his side excruciating. He gasps as he finally feels the cool metal under his fingers, and clings to it like a lifeline, slumping against the wall of the cabin, and closing his eyes.

Belle is crazed with passion, and the need to protect the man she loves so much. Traditionally the roles would be reversed, but no one decides her fate but she, and tradition will be the last thing she listens to. So when Emma thought Belle asleep and left her only a moment to use the bathroom, Belle sprang into action, leaping out the door without even putting on shoes. A good thing too, considering she was now knee deep in a pond, with the mysterious August W. Booth crawling backwards away from her through the water. She didn't know how she even knew where to go, all she knew was that the man she loved was in danger, and she had the power to do something about it. So she followed her instinct and happened upon a horrid scene, despite the fact that it looked momentarily as if Rumplestiltskin was winning.

She didn't wait a moment, had only pushed him aside to get at the foul man herself, hitting and kicking and driving him straight into the pond. Now he stumbled to his feet on the opposite bank, bloody broken and scared, and peeling off into the darkness. "Don't ever try anything like that again, you hear?" She shouted after him. Turning to face Rumplestiltskin she was grinning from ear to ear. A grin which quickly fell as she saw his condition. He was in obvious pain, gritting his teeth and throwing his head back against the wall.

She rushed to him, whispering words of love and comfort, none of which he heard as the world started to spin and blackness encroached, soon pierced by a bright white light in front of him. Despite his finally decision to do be on whatever side August was on, despite his vow to never leave Belle alone, he had failed. He was dead and gone, and she was alone and scared. The only solace was that leaving that night was his final mistake; now he would never be able to hurt her again.