"So, tell me everything," Belle was lounging on Ruby's sofa, one arm draped over her eyes in a dramatic position. Ruby bounced on the edge of the couch. She enjoyed drama, especially when it involved sex.

"There's not a lot to tell," Belle sat up and took a small sip of wine, "We were both shocked and slightly embarrassed at the sight of, well, each other."

"Were there fireworks? True love at second sight?"This has to be fate!" Ruby gushed.

She was blowing things out of proportion to either amuse of annoy, Belle couldn't tell which. Deciding on the latter she rolled her eyes.

"He's a jerk," she said, "He even had the nerve to imply that I knew who he was on Friday!"

"He didn't!" Ruby faked-gasped, egging her friend on.

"Yes! And I'd already said I didn't know! And then I threw his girlfriend out."

"You threw who out?" Ruby's live-in boyfriend asked.

Archibald Hopper- Archie for short- was a psychiatrist and complete opposite of Ruby. He was quiet and shy, where Ruby was outgoing and loved attention; he was logical she dramatic; they complemented each other well.

Belle was a little jealous of their relationship, but in a good natured, I'm-happy-you're-happy way.

"Belle threw her bosses girlfriend out," Ruby explained.

"Okay, I'm not sure she was his girlfriend," Belle sighed, "She said she was his girlfriend but I think they only went out once."

"And what was the through process behind kicking this woman out?" Archie asked, going into therapist mode.

"Belle's sleeping with her new boss," Ruby explained and poured herself another glass of wine.

"I am not!" Belle cried.

"Any more," corrected Ruby.

Archie did not understand.

"I don't understand," he said.

Belle sighed, "I don't either. Not if you'll excuse me, I'm going to take a nice, long bath and reread some thing by Jane Austen."

As she left, Archie corked the bottle of wine.

"Tomorrow, when you are sober, you're going to explain why your normally level headed friend is sleeping with her boss," he kissed her on the forehead, "but now we are going to bed."

Across the city, Rumold Gold was standing in his empty apartment. He looked into his empty whiskey glass and crossed into the bedroom. He removed his tie, his jacket. Stooping to take off his shoes he noticed something gold colored under his bed. His knee protested as he bent search under the bed.

It was her underwear. Belle's. It was gold and lacy and smelled of her. He ran his fingers along the scrap of fabric, remembering how he had stripped it from her body nights ago. He remembered the way her breath hitched, the way she moaned at his touch. But more than that, the way she snuggled in his lap and spoke of literature like a scholar.

By this time he was sitting at the edge of his bed, hand down his unbuttoned trousers stroking his cock. He grunted and pumped harder, imagining his Belle in his lap, behind his desk. His phone would ring and he would knock it away. He'd pull her closer and she'd arch, burying his length deeper inside her body.

Rumold grunted again and came into a handful tissues.

He finished undressing and laid down in bed. When did she become his Belle?

Perhaps when she broke his damn cup.

…

Day two of the most awkward job ever. Nine am, Belle walked into Mr. Gold's office, tea tray in hand. His eyes did not leave her as she prepared the tea.

"Tomorrow bring two cups," he said once she had finished, "And you will prepare the tea on the right side of my desk, not in front. Understood?"

"Yes Mr. Gold," Belle said.

Belle walked back to her desk and sat down. Then the intercom buzzed.

"Yes Mr. Gold?" she asked.

"Fetch me the publishers list," he said.

Belle pulled the list she brought him yesterday (it has mysteriously returned to it's place in her desk drawer) and walked it into the office.

"Come inside when I buzz for you," he said taking the folder, "I detest communicating through the com."

"Yes Mr. Gold," Belle said and licked her lips. She would not get annoyed, she would not get annoyed.

She was not back at her desk for five minutes when he buzzed her again. She walked into the office to his desk.

"Yes Mr. Gold?" she ask, struggling to keep her tone level.

"Fetch a pen and pad of paper, Miss French, I need to write a letter," he said, not bothering to look at her.

"Yes Mr. Gold," her voice was chipped as she walked back to her desk, located the required equipment and walked back into his office. She took a seat in the chair across from the desk and cocked her head, await for him to dictate to her.

"Move your chair," he growled, "You will sit to the right of my desk, same as when you prepare tea, not at the front, never at the front."

He dictated the letter as she wrote, then he told her to read it back to him. He asked to see it, and tore it up.

"Again," he snapped, and repeated the letter with several small changes.

Belle handed him he second finished letter and he tore that one up also. She was livid. And they repeated the process three more times before she produced a letter he approved of- or at least tolerated.

"This is tolerable," Mr. Gold said, "You may leave."

Belle stalked out and took her lunch before he could change his mind and make her write another letter. Finding her way to the lunch room she surveyed her options. There were four tables, each occupied by at least one person.

Table one: a blonde woman in a red jacket was trying to decide where next to take a bite from her sandwich. Next to her was Mary Margret.

Table Two: Jefferson Madden.

Table Three: an Asian woman and woman with reddish hair. Their heads were bent together, deep in conversation.

Table Four: another red head, this woman was wearing a purple shirt and green blazer. Belle recognized her as the receptionist.

She approached table four.

"Hi, you're Ariel right?" Belle tried, "I'm Belle. Can I sit here?"

"Belle! Hi! I remember you! Of course you can sit here. How are you?" Ariel said, ginning and pulling out a chair.

"I'm fine, I am excellent," Belle replied, not sounding the most certain.

"That's good. So... you're new, I'll give you the low down on everybody," Ariel giggled, "Receptionists know everything."

"Oh great,"

Ariel gestured to the blonde in the red leather, "That's Emma Swan, head of security. She hates Vise President Mills, but then again, so does every one."

"I'm guessing you've met Mary Margret, HR director?" Belle nodded, "She and Emma are roommates."

"That's Jefferson Madden-"

"I met him yesterday," Belle interrupted, "He works in IT right?"

"Yep, you're catching on fast!" Ariel looked to the two other women, "Those two are Mulan Fa and Aurora Winsor- Rory for short. Rory is in accounting and Mulan works in marketing."

Belle nodded, "Rory in accounting and Mulan in marketing, got it."

"And I'm Ariel of course! Reception! Where are you working?"

"I'm Mr. Gold's new secretary," Belle said.

Ariel spit out her drink, "What? I'm so so so sorry!"

"So you're the one who called me yesterday," Emma Swan said, finishing her sandwich.

Belle nodded.

"Sorry to tell you this, but Gold's a bastard and his secretaries last about a month at the longest," Emma threw the sandwich wrapper away before turning to Mary Margret, "How long did the last one last?"

"Two days," Mary Margret sighed, "And it was a pity, Ashley was such a nice girl."

"Gold doesn't do nice," Jefferson pointed out, "But I give you a week, tops."

"Two," Emma countered, "She looks tough."

Belle wrinkled her nose, "Thanks, I think?"

Back at her desk, Belle received radio silence from Mr. Gold. It was welcome. After an hour of opening mail and replying to emails, a woman with short black hair and a sleek pants suit stopped in front of her desk.

"Well, well, well, are you Gold's new girl? He does like them young," the woman sneered, then extended her hand, "Regina Mills, Vise President of Gold Books."

"Belle French," Belle introduced, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Mills."

"I'm sure," Regina said, "So is Rumold getting you whipped into shape? Don't get too comfortable, his secretaries have the life expectancy of a fruit fly."

"So I hear," Belle replied, not quiet sure how to take that.

"Well, you enjoy your little stint with us and don't forget you can always contact HR if there's any inappropriate workplace behavior," Regina said, waving and departing.

Belle put her head down on the desk. What had she gotten herself into?