Note: Just a short one today folks; I've been busy with work and moving house, but I wanted to explore this idea because it made me smile so much.

Warning: Sexual innuendo throughout. Not explicit enough for an M rating, I don't think, but probably the higher end of a T.

Summary: Gold finds Belle's "special" notebook, prompted by Angel of Love and Fluffy Stuff.

Lemon Cake

The black BMW screeched to a stop and Gold told the driver who'd cut him up exactly what he thought of him, in no uncertain terms. Sadly, the other driver did not hear this, and, on second thoughts, it was probably best that Gold's outburst of rather colourful language was kept safely within the car. Still grumbling about inept motorists under his breath, Gold parked, and was about to get out of the car when something caught his eye in the passenger foot-well.

It was a reporter's notebook, nothing unusual about it apart from the fact that Gold knew it definitely did not belong to him. He frowned. It had obviously been wedged under the seat and had flown forward when he'd braked sharply. It must have belonged to either Belle or Sid, who were the only people to spend any length of time in the BMW on a regular basis and who had the opportunity to lose things in it.

Gold leaned over and picked up the notebook. Belle did have a tendency to drop things, and whenever Gold was giving Sid a lift anywhere, the latter man was usually drunk and therefore more than likely to leave notebooks lying around. He opened it to try and glean some idea of ownership and immediately recognised Belle's clear, rounded hand. Satisfied, Gold was about to close the book again when he saw his name, and naturally this drew his attention. Reading a little further, Gold discovered the true meaning of the phrase 'curiosity killed the cat' and slammed the book shut.

It was official. Belle's imagination, which he had always known to be overactive, was also incredibly… vivid.

Gold stared down at the notebook in his hands and, deciding that he was on the slippery slope anyway, risked a second glance inside, just in case he'd been seeing things the first time round. For a second time, he came to the conclusion that this really was not the sort of material he should be reading when he had a meeting with a client to discuss an enduring power of attorney in fifteen minutes. And, for the second time, Gold came to the conclusion that one thing was certain. The look on Belle's face when she found out about this morning's turn of events was going to be absolutely priceless.

X

"Good morning, Mr Gold," Kathryn said brightly as she handed him his post. "Mr Gold?"

"What? Oh, sorry, Kathryn, I was miles away."

"So I see," Kathryn observed. "Well, Jefferson's phoned in sick and Sid's dragged Dawn into court with him so it'll be pretty quiet up there. Don't get lonely."

Gold merely raised an eyebrow and continued on up the stairs towards his office. Thankfully, his client arrived on time and he was able to put thoughts of Belle's literary fantasies aside for the time being.

As the day wore on, however, he couldn't help occasionally glancing over at his desk drawer where he'd stowed the notebook for safekeeping. Finally, he could resist it no longer. Feeling a strange desire to find out what else she'd written about him, Gold took out the notebook and flipped it open, beginning to read a passage. He raised his eyebrows. Where did Belle get all this from? Well, he reflected, he had seen her bookshelves and their contents, so he shouldn't really be too surprised. All he knew was, she wasn't basing it off real life, because they'd certainly never done that.

Oh dear, he was never going to be able to look at his desk in the same way again. Why had she had to set this little erotic masterpiece in his office?

Well, she probably didn't intend for you to ever see it, the little voice in the back of his mind that sounded suspiciously like Archie Hopper pointed out.

That Belle had written it before she'd properly met him, or at least before they'd first made love, was fairly self-evident. A small part of him wondered if he ought to be worried about this, but he had to admit, he'd had similar thoughts about Belle before they'd introduced themselves to each other. He just hadn't turned his into prose. He was more amused than anything. Well, almost anything.

Oh, for crying out loud. He shut the notebook back in his desk crossly. He was never going to get anything done at this rate. His desk phone chirruped into life, startling him out of slightly less than innocent daydreams. He picked it up.

"Mr Clark's here to see you," said Kathryn.

"What? Oh, yes, I remember. Send him up,"

"Mr Gold?" Kathryn began, "are you quite all right? You seem… distracted."

"I'm fine, thank you, Kathryn. Just a lot on my mind at the moment."

"Right…" Kathryn didn't sound all that convinced. "Mr Clark's on his way up."

Gold hung up and sighed before giving himself a shake and getting up to greet Mr Clark. The man's hay fever was obviously playing up again; Gold could hear him sneezing before he'd even left his office.

He took one last longing look at his desk before pushing all thoughts of non-work related activities to the back of his mind. It was going to take an awful lot of will-power to get to the end of the day…

X

As far as Belle was concerned, it was a perfectly ordinary Monday evening as she ran the short distance over the way between the café and the law offices after her shift finished. She'd had an uneventful day at work, as usual, and Gold would meet her at the door and take her home, as usual, and they'd have a fairly normal Monday evening, as usual.

Her first inkling that all was not as it should be was when, instead of appearing at the door with coat on and car keys in hand, Gold let her into the offices and motioned for her to follow him.

"I'm a bit behind," he said by way of explanation as he made his way back up the stairs, Belle a couple of paces behind. "Just a couple of things to finish off, then we'll go home."

Well, this wasn't completely unheard of, but unusual enough for Belle to raise an eyebrow. She dutifully followed Gold into his office and sat down in the chair opposite his desk, which seemed to be remarkably empty considering he was in the middle of doing something.

It was then that she saw it.

Sitting there on her lover's desk, so innocently and inconspicuously.

Her notebook.

Her notebook filled with her deepest, darkest fantasies.

Her notebook, that she hadn't even realised she had lost.

Her immediate thought was denial, that it couldn't possibly be hers, after all, there were many reporter's notebooks in the world. Her hand went to the front of her satchel, but alas, she could feel its absence. The notebook on the desk was definitely hers.

Belle groaned and buried her head in her hands, feeling her cheeks flush bright red. Oh dear lord above. He'd read it. All her perverted little fantasies from before she'd ever met him, lurid tales of debauchery and desks.

"There is a reason I'm so behind on my paperwork," Gold said drily, and Belle could see him out of the corner of her eye, smirking as he settled himself back in his chair and watched her squirm with an expression of polite amusement. "I found some rather intriguing reading material in my car this morning."

"I'm so sorry," Belle murmured behind her hands. She was fairly certain that she had never been so embarrassed in her whole adult life. It was one thing to fantasise about someone, another to write those fantasies down in fiction form, and yet another to have the subject read them.

"Oh, don't apologise, it's been far more interesting than Wills and divorce petitions. Slightly distracting though."

Belle risked a glance through her fingers. Gold was still sitting there, idly flipping through the pages of her notebook. She moved her hands away from her face fully and studied him, mapping his reaction closely.

He was evidently finding the whole thing hilarious, which Belle was not finding it in the slightest, but she could see something else in his dark eyes, the unmistakeable glint that meant his thoughts were not at all pure and he was having, to put it euphemistically, naughty ideas.

"Yes, slightly distracting," Gold repeated. "There could have been some very difficult-to-explain situations on more than one occasion, today." He closed the book and handed it back to her. "You, my love, have a lot to answer for."

Belle, feeling a little emboldened by the fact he didn't seem to be running a mile in disgust at the fact she could dream up such things, finally trusted herself to speak.

"You can't say you've never thought about it," she blurted out. "You, me, your desk…"

Gold shook his head.

"No, you're right. I have thought about it. And thanks to you I've been thinking about it all day and I'm utterly wound up." Belle had to smile at his bluntness. "So since I'll never be able to look at my desk in the same way again anyway…"

Gold raised an eyebrow and Belle raised both of hers in return. Her mouth went dry. Surely he wasn't seriously suggesting that they made good on her notebook? Her eyes flickered to the office door.

"We are alone up here, aren't we?" she managed. "Everyone else has gone home?"

"Solitary as oysters," Gold assured her. There was a moment's pause, and the wickedness in his eyes returned. "So, what do you think, Miss French?"

Belle grinned and leaned across the desk.

"I think I need a lawyer," she purred, "and I think I need him now."