A note from Serade Black: A very long wait and I apologize. RL just steps in sometimes. ENJOY! ~SB

CH. 3

The evening air had been crisp, clean and fresh, but it was nearly chilling to the bone. Snow piles mixed with dirt and grime from the street formed unappealing cold mounds that resembled a rolling hillside along the sidewalk. Passers-by were weary of oncoming cars passing through the main street of Storybrooke, fearful that a small melted puddle might splash them, so they walked close along the buildings' walls.

While Belle had followed through with her plans to go out with Mary Margaret, Ruby and Emma, Mr. Gold had made his way down to "Game of Thorns", Moe French's floral shop. Jingling bells on the inside door handle announced the pawnbroker's presence as he closed the glass door behind him. He made his way further into the cramped little shop, stepping over plants and stacked flowers still in their shipping boxes. February thirteenth bode well for all florists, as it performed like Christmas Eve, with the generous sales of roses sent to promised ones. It was clear that the shop dearly missed Belle, Anna's, organizational skills, for there were stacks of handwritten notes, bundles of papers clearly stamped "invoice", and an array of broken pencils scattered over the counter.

Moe came in from the back, out of breath and a bit untidy, however when he looked to see Mr. Gold standing in shop, he straightened as if ready for inspection. He adjusted the bill of his had and hastened his step to the counter, "Mr. Gold, what can I do for you?"

Mr. Gold hated all his interactions with Moe, because his particular situation was incredibly delicate. Had he not learned that Belle was alive in a dark cold cell, he would otherwise have put all the blame on Moe and the story of the shunning of his own daughter. He probably would have ended up beating him to near death by his cane. For now, he attempted to keep the peace and secretly be at his mercy when it came to his daughter. Though the deal still remains: safety of their kingdom, in exchange for Belle. Though he managed to make a poor decision in a weak moment in his very long life, she still chose him after all these years.

For now, in the present day, Mr. Gold straightened himself up and put on the strong persona of his Storybrooke identity, complete with a sneer of his lip and an aura of impatience. Glancing about the shop, he everywhere but at the owner, "I want to order four dozen roses in vases for early morning pick up tomorrow." Mr. Gold flexed a gloved hand elegantly and then replaced it on the top of his cane. After nothing was said, Mr. Gold looked back at the man annoyed.

As if he'd just been threatened for his life, Moe went to grab a notepad and jot down his order. Fidgeting a bit as he tried to find a pencil with a working tip amongst the sea of broken ones, he wanted everything to do this just right. He already knew the importance of his order, seeing that it was for his landlord, and he wanted no other reason for the man to be upset with him. "And where would you like me to deliver them?"

As Moe scribbled down what could only look like a doctor's prescription, he reached for his vibrating mobile phone that sat in his inner coat pocket. It was a text from Belle discussing her evening and the fact that Dr. Whale was on the prowl. As Moe asked his question regarding delivery, Mr. Gold quickly ended the text: Tell him about my cane. "I'll take care of that. My assistant, Bruno, will be here in the morning tomorrow at 8 a.m. to pick them up. See to it that they're ready for him. It's imperative that I get them at 8," he said, emphasizing his last point.

"Yes, of course, Mr. Gold. I'll be here myself, or Leo will be here for you or rather your assistant," Moe replied, nodding his head like he had a nervous tick. He clutched the order in his hands as if it were a most valued scroll with a hidden treasure map.

"I'd rather it be you Mr. French, if you don't mind," Mr. Gold added, dusting invisible lint off of his coat. He didn't need to go into further detail that the young former knight and he did not see eye to eye as they share a common interest. Or rather, they did.

Moe nodded and assured him that his request would be met. The finest four dozen of roses in vases would be ready for him to collect in the morning on the busiest floral selling day of the year. With a nod, Mr. Gold reached into his inside pocket and removed his wallet in order to settle the pre-payment. After the transaction was complete, Mr. Gold turned on his heel and left the shop, slightly grinning how his little plan was coming together nicely.

Come morning, the roses had been ready at their precise time, earlier in fact, and Bruno was there to collect them in a long black sedan. Saying barely three words, Moe loaded the vases of flowers and watched the man drive down the road and turn at the end. What he didn't see was that Bruno hadn't gone too much farther down the main street, stopping and parking in front of the Storybrooke library. Carrying the first of four glass vases full of roses, he made his way to the double doors and pulled out the extra key to the library and slipped inside. Following his instructions the way he was instructed, Bruno was out quicker than he went in, unnoticed by any early risers beginning their morning strolls.

At 8:45 a.m., Belle closed the door to her apartment above the library and wrapped a scarf around her neck as she came down the outside back stairs. Taking in the crisp air, she stepped quickly, twirling around the banister as she reached the bottom and headed towards the front of the building. She looked above her, always checking to see the time, a little habit of hers, noting that she had more than plenty of time to prepare for her scheduled 9 A.M. opening for the rest of the town.

Her mobile buzzed in her hand as she held it tightly, receiving a text message from Rumplestiltskin: Snow storm coming in. Please keep warm. She replied: That's your job.

Directly in front of the library doors was a small card and a single rose laying on top of it. Across the front of the envelope it read, "Anna". She glanced around, checking to see if anyone was watching her before she bent down to pick it up. Opening the card, she recognized the signature immediately and smiled ever so slightly.

Anna,

On a day like this, it makes you realize what you don't have. I cannot say I'm sorry enough for whatever it was that I did wrong, but know that I wish I could turn back time to make it right. I'm hoping in the future, we end up together, because it's what would be right.

Love, Leo

She folded the card back up, slid it back into its envelope and carried the rose inside. However, once she entered her library and turned on the lights, her eyes fell on something she knew only too well. The signature vase that her father used on all his most expensive orders of flowers was bound, shined, and glistening as it held the prettiest opened roses she had ever seen. Had she known he was without magic, she'd think Rumplestiltskin had a hand in forcing their bloom.

For this, she rushed to her circulation desk and seized the envelope that only had a "B" on the outside. Her fingers practically tore at the paper that kept his words hidden and with a triumphant tug, pulled out a very simple black and white card where inside started his script:

Sweetheart,

I'm not the romantic sort, so forgive me. We come from two different worlds, literally, and I know now that wherever you are, I want to be. For now, I'm going to send you on a little journey to get your Valentine's Day present.

Clue #1: What is the name of our story in Henry's book?

With the prospect of a little quest, Belle spun on her heels and immediately rushed towards the children's' section of the library in search of "Beauty and the Beast". As she rounded the lower bookshelves, she saw on the small little table in the center where the activity books were placed, another dozen perfect roses were displayed in the same glass vase. Next to it, another little note was placed at its side, ready for her to open.

Clue #2: What I know your favorite book is (at least, at the moment).

This took a little bit more thinking, but she rounded the "classics" section and there on the same shelf as "Wuthering Heights" was another vase with its roses. Another card peeked out from the placement of the book.

Clue #3: What I know you're secretly reading, because you've replaced the dust jacket on it.

Belle's cheeks immediately warmed and her stomach fluttered at the thought of him discovering her dirty little secret. He couldn't possibly have known, for she had made grand efforts to keep that dustcover perfectly attached without the threat of it sliding off. Surely his sleuthing skills had failed him, but as she crossed her fingers and prayed to the Heavens above there wouldn't be a dozen roses in the New Releases section on a particular shelf...

Belle gasped, feeling absolutely mortified. Her hand covered her mouth, her eyes squeezed shut and it was all she could do not to call him up and beg for him to tell her how he'd discovered it. There, on the shelf of the New Releases was the very risqué "50 Shades of Grey" and next to it, another dozen roses, but instead of just a card and roses, this one had a small little box. She walked over to the shelf, secretly wishing that they weren't there, and avoided eye contact with the library's copy of the naughty little tale as if that would make every guilty pleasurable feeling go away. The little card sat under the little box, so assuming he'd want her to open the gift first, she did.

The small little box's hinges creaked as she lifted the lid. Sitting inside the old velvet box was a pair of emerald stud earrings set in an antique gold. It was the nicest gift anyone had ever given her, but it was the hunt to seize them that warmed her more. The trouble he went through thinking out his little treasure hunt was more than Belle could feel, so with a shaking hand, she reached for the last little card that was under the earrings.

Now, come find me. I love you. -R

She nearly bumped into Mary Margaret when she unlocked and pushed open her doors. Startled, Mary Margaret pulled back a couple of students that barely missed the flying door and gave Belle a surprised look.

"Anna," she said with a tilt of her chin and looking a little alarmed, "Everything okay?"

Apologizing for nearly taking out at least three of her waiting students, Belle held the door open for the kids to pass through. She smiled brightly, pretending that she wasn't as giddy as a small child over the present and the roses. Seeing Mary Margaret was a breath of fresh air, for as she was ready to jump to the skies, she just reached for her friend's hand and pulled her inside upon the last of the students.

"Mary Margaret, I'll be right back. I have to run down to the pawn shop for a moment, but I'll be right back," she said quickly.

"Yes, of course, but is everything okay?" the school teacher in the white sweater asked again while taking a quick glance to her class that had scattered.

"Fine," she blushed. "It's just Valentine's Day!" Mary Margaret gave her a half smile and Belle took off in the direction of Mr. Gold's Pawnshop, wishing to herself that she had worn running shoes for this occasion.

It wasn't a very long block down the road and to the first turn on her left, but it felt like it was taken forever to reach him. His sign hung above his shop, like a beacon calling out to her, and somewhere deep inside she found the ability to hasten her speed even more. His door handle turned easily and the little bell jingled, announcing her arrival, but he wasn't standing behind the counter like she expected. She passed through the curtain and saw him sitting at his desk with paperwork strewn all in front of him.

"Ah, my darling," he said, lifting his eyes to the angelic vision that stood in his doorway. "I take it you found your final present?" His voice was deep and calm, almost as if casting a concentrated spell like the old days.

"You," she said, slowly slinking around his desk, positioning herself next to him and then sliding gracefully into his lap. "That was the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me on Valentine's Day." Her hands slid around his neck, scratching her nails along the nape of his neck. She loved touched the tips of his soft brown hair.

Both his hands encircled her waist as he welcomed her light weight on his lap. The side of his mouth curved up into a smirk and as he memorized her face for what seemed to be the millionth time in his life, he whispered, "Glad that you liked it, Dearie."

Hearing the smooth sultry sound of his velvety voice caused her to lean in and offer him the kiss he was obviously pining for. A soft press together was enough to go in again, nipping his lower lip ever so lightly with her teeth. He smelled delicious and was absolutely intoxicating to her that it was without reason and mere curiosity that she whispered, "Now, how did you find out about my secret reading material?"

He let out a low chuckle, flourished his hand a bit and replied, "Magicians never reveal their secrets." Belle frowned playfully, jutting out her lower lip, hoping that he would give into her plead. With barely a struggle, he caved and let out a sigh, "You left it on your coffee table and I snooped."

"That's what I thought."

"What's the book about?" he asked quietly, unable to meet her eyes. He knew exactly what the book was about, but was testing his waters with the beautiful woman on his lap that chose such scandalous reading material.

With a playful smirk, her fingers traveled to his necktie where she gently tugged on it, "Perhaps I could read it to you, or rather we read it together?"

Rumplestiltskin then found the courage to look her straight in the eye to see if she was bluffing and was met with a rather demure face with only the devious of intentions. His beautiful Belle was not the shy innocence everyone might have believed her to be and he was very game to explore those improbable theories. As her eyes laid on him, her hands gripping the silk material hanging around his neck like a noose, he could only swallow.

With another kiss she released his tie and stood from his lap, "I've left a small class of fifth graders in charge of my library, so I have to get back." She adjusted her skirt and sweater as she walked back around his desk, "I'll see you later?"

"Dinner," he insisted, as if there was no arguing it. It was a special day for those in love and he wanted to celebrate it for her. She smiled brightly and offered a little wave as she disappeared back into the front of the store and seconds later, the little jingle of his shop bell announced her departure. He remained seated for a few extra minutes at his desk, finding the additional minutes necessary to allow him to calm down, or rather settle down certain "parts" of him that had been awakened by the brief thought of a rather risqué reading.

Belle had since corralled all the roses and their vases together around her circulation desk. Though it was a little intimidating, it was an excellent conversation starter and the floral scent of the roses waft through the entire library. They were beautiful and though they wouldn't last forever, it was nice to have such gorgeous floral arrangements to share with her visitors.

Late afternoon, the library happened to be empty and Belle seized the opportunity to put away the stack of books that were piling up on a nearby "drop off" rack. While she was deep in the depths of the history section, kneeling down to the bottom shelf to put away rather heavy volumes, she managed to peek through the shelves to see a pudgy round faced man.

"Anna?" he called out, stepping beyond the foyer and looking down the rows of books. He wore his normal hat, his light jacket for such a cold day and had small band-aids on his fingers, probably from all the thorns he had handled on such a day.

"Papa," she murmured as she emerged from an aisle with her arms open to be embraced by her big bear of a father. "Good to see you."

Moe pulled back, holding his daughter's hands in his and smiled warmly, "I just came by to make sure you were okay for the snow storm that's coming this way."

"Is it supposed to be bad?" she replied, letting him squeeze her hands. She hadn't taken the winter's harshness seriously all season, so she wasn't prepared for the warnings now.

"One of the biggest," he said, skeptic that she wasn't prepared. "Businesses are closing early on account of it. Myself included."

"Speaking of business, I'm sure you're really busy, today."

"The busiest, my darling girl. You are missed," he said, stepping back and looking at his pride and joy standing before him, all grown up and not needing him. "But, I know you're happy doing this-" Moe stopped speaking as his eyes traveled to her circulation desk.

"I am. I love it here, it's been so good for me," she replied, without noticing the frozen look on his face.

Moe's eyes remained transfixed on the same four dozen roses he had prepared only that morning, complete with a special red ribbon he had added himself. There, plain as the day, they were displayed around the place where his daughter would be seated, as if worshipping their queen. Pretty, perfect blooms allowing their scent to permeate the entrance, that to anyone who hadn't been around them all day and night would otherwise be hit with the aroma so hard, they'd be pushed away. Still, as if a wooden plank had just hit him hard on the head, waking him from a deep dark sleep, he looked as if he'd seen a ghost.

"Anna, are those...mine?" Moe hesitantly asked as his eyes slowly returned to hers, wary of the answer.

Following his eye line, she glanced over her shoulder to her pretty arrangements, not yet aware of the effect they were having on her father. "Yes, I suppose they are. They really are beautiful-"

In an instant, Moe's disposition changed like a quick moving storm coming onto shore. His hands gripped her upper arms firmly as if his life depended on her and he shouted, "Are they from Mr. Gold?"

Her sweet loving father had changed from the soft gentle man inquiring on his daughter to a furious angry beast who practically spat out his question. Disgusted and frightened, she was taken back by the sickness in his voice, "Yes. Yes, they are!"

"Why did he get those for you? Why, Anna?"

"Because, it's Valentine's Day!" she answered quickly, slightly annoyed that he was being so irrational.

"It's true, then. What the town is saying? He gave those to you...Anna, are you...are you, seeing Mr. Gold?" he asked desperately; his fingers were digging into her shoulders.

Not liking her father's sudden turn, she pulled away, "Yes, I am." She composed herself as she continued, adjusting her rumpled sweater. "And, I'm very happy with him."

Moe licked his lips nervously, afraid to speak what was currently on his mind, but he needed to know. The truth of the situation was nearly enough to send him over, or he was absolutely repulsed that his only daughter would be involved with such a terrible and cruel man. Like a fly drawn into the light, he could only pray for his baby's poor lack of judgment by allowing herself to be lured in by his power.

"With him?" Moe practically stuttered the words.

"Yes, he treats me very well. He cares about me and I...I feel-"

Her father didn't allow her to continue and raised a hand to stop her from speaking, "Are you telling me," he paused to catch his words, "that you're falling in love with him?"

Though it was a little too late for that, she replied, "Yes, I am, and papa I don't think you really have anything to say about that." She wouldn't normally be as disrespectful with her words as she'd been, remembering that not too long ago in their old world, her father was a Lord and she just a noblewoman. He was feared, respected and adored by their people and he was always her hero, but now she was all grown up and making decisions for herself. The legend of her heart was her own to write and her own father wasn't going to persuade her otherwise.

"I do and I am saying something about it," he choked out; the little vein in his neck started to pulse. "Is that why you broke up with Leo? For him? Did he hurt you and now you feel trapped-"

"No! Stop it!" Belle pushed herself away as her father began to step in with open arms, hoping to console her. "I broke it off with Leo, because I don't want to spend the rest of my life with him. He doesn't make me happy!"

"...and Mr. Gold does?" he questioned quite abruptly.

"Yes," she begged, quietly. For a moment, she believed she was that sweet little girl on her father's lap trying to explain why she had tracked mud into the castle and gotten her new satin shoes all dirty. With a deep, brave breath, she continued, "Yes, he does. Please, papa, let me make my own decisions."

Moe French was normally a calm man when things went right or went his way. In this case, his only daughter made him as red as a radish and his heart rate went up three times the healthy pulse. He balled his fists, never wanting to strike his daughter, but at the absent man that was busying away his day in his own pawnshop.

"Did he trick you into being with him?"

"No!" she answered quickly, praying that no one could hear their argument from outside the library doors.

"You went to him willingly?"

"Yes," she sighed, sensing that her father was beginning to calm down. "I see a good man in him," she began to explain, "I'm not a child anymore. Please, just let me do what I want, for once."

Moe wanted to reach out to his daughter, to the precious reminder of what he and his wife had made, but her memory was no more than a figment imprinted by a curse. However, the love he felt for the young woman did not replace the anger he held for his landlord. He would see through this relationship, discover Mr. Gold's ulterior motives and show his daughter, Anna, just who she'd chosen for a suitor.

"This won't last, Anna," he said, taking a few steps towards the door. He watched as his daughter's face fell, her moderate spark fading as he neared the only exit. He pointed a finger straight at her for one last lesson to be taught, and continued, "He will hurt you. He's a terrible, terrible man." And with not another word, Moe French slammed the library door behind him, leaving Belle alone in the foyer.