A/N: A big gush of gratitude to everyone who has reviewed. I don't usually get a lot, so it's always amazing to hop on here and be blown away. I had hoped this would be able to last through 30 Sept when the premiere is scheduled, but it doesn't look like that is going to happen. So I'm not only grateful for your reviews, but your love for the show. I feel like it's something that was custom-designed for my own interests and tastes, but I can't be the only one who feels that way. So thank you for giving this show the strong fandom that it needs.
It's becoming a struggle to even think around here, he mouths, dressing for the day. Belle floods his mind, his dreams now. Can't be good. Not at all. Sweetness, innocence, purity—a girl like her should most decidedly not be thought of the way he often catches himself thinking. He stares at the door that will lead out into the hall, which will lead down the stairs, which will lead down into the dining hall where she will be, glowing from kitchen heat and her own radiance. She'll serve up eggs and maybe some toast, all so conversational and friendly it will make his head spin. You can magic yourself out, he offers himself. Where, is the question. Moreover, he's somewhat sure he wants his head to spin. A little. Livens up the place.
"So how will this Ursula even be able to go?" She's obsessed with the details of this ball, no matter how many times he reminds her he is not the one hosting it. Refusing to believe he could be ignorant about anything would ordinarily be flattering, but he knows her too well by now. She has taken "knowledge is power" to heart and is gathering up not petty details, but survival tips.
"She's able to turn into a human. I thought you knew that. But she likes to wear shells as jewelry, so that might help you spot her."
"And you said some silver keeps goblins away?"
"That's werewolves, and as far as I know, only the biggest, baddest one will be in attendance." He pauses, wondering why that forehead wrinkled in thought holds his gaze. "Studying for a test, are we?"
"That's actually a good idea," she says, finally sitting down and picking up her fork.
"Wasn't serious, dearie. The trolls might wallop you if you show too much familiarity." Now, that was a mistake, he realizes, seeing her pale. "Did you forget hyperbole?"
"Sorry," she blurts. "I should make myself a test." Setting down her fork, elbows on the table, her hands slide up into her hair. "What if the Pied Piper plays something while I'm there? All the rest of you have magic...I'll have to look up more about him. Although the Blind Witch doesn't sound too hard to avoid...and, what's the pirate's name...Captain Hook...he might be a good one to mingle with..."
"He does like attacking children, though," he says, grinning as his comment destroys her brainstorming. Her head sinks lower. Has she forgotten? Or does she doubt? Remind her, he urges himself. Remind her you'll be there and you'll not let any spook or sprite touch a hair on her head if they mean her anything but good will.
"You know, if you act as though you're having a good time, they will probably leave well enough alone."
"You think so?" Her head perks up, eyes glittering with hope. Good thing he told the truth. Flashing the brightest smile he's seen since he danced with her the other night...gods, that must be responsible for all this pent up...frustration, he would call it. "You're in an awfully good mood."
"Am I?"
"That's quite the smile there," she says, so gentle and genuinely happy to see someone else happy, he can't bear to spite her by frowning. But he neither confirms nor denies being in a good mood.
"I'll need my coat pressed for tonight. Unless you'll be too busy cramming for your test?" He gives her a challenging expression, to which she responds in kind.
"You watch, Rumpelstiltskin. I'm going to know more about every dark creature in the realm than even you."
They finish breakfast in a comfortable silence and all too soon, she's clearing the dishes and heading towards the kitchen.
"Don't spill," he teases to her.
"A klutz? Is that what you think of me?" she teases back.
"Oh, you don't want to know what I think of you, Belle."