Rumpelstiltskin woke up in the darkness of his bedroom from the most wonderful dream. He dreamt Belle was back and that she forgave him and let him hold her in his arms. It was silly, of course, yet not less enjoyable. She'd been gone for little more than two days but it felt like an eternity. He sighed. At least he slept with no usual nightmares, and he had to be grateful for it. But what was that smell in his bedroom? He waved his hand, getting rid off the odour when someone shifted in bed to his right. Oh no, no. He absolutely did not go out of his castle the day before and he did not bring anyone else back with him, did he? Rumpelstiltskin snapped his fingers lighting the candelabra closest to his bed. He half-expected to find a girl from the brothel (even though he swore to never set foot at the horrid place) or perhaps last night's drinking buddy. Instead, he gasped, recognizing a mop of brown curls that could only belong to his former apprentice.

"Belle?" it was silly, but he had to make sure.

His voice was barely a whisper, but enough to disturb the vision. She raised her hand protectively over her eyes to avoid most of the candle light.

"Don't you start to Belle me again," she grumbled, husky from sleep but contrary to her words there was a smile blossoming on her lips. "How are you feeling?" the genuine concern in her voice was quickly replaced by astonishment. "Why am I naked?"

It was probably his fault; when he willed the magic to eliminate the offending smell, it must have vanished Belle's clothes along with it. He fixed that mishap immediately, dressing her up in the most conservative of her gowns, covering the girl from neck to toe in blue linen. Still, she looked somewhat dumb-struck - hardly something he imagined when he thought of her in his bed.

"I'm sorry," he blurted and it seemed that once those simple words fell from his lips, the dam was broken and more words poured, unstoppable.

"I'm sorry I treated you like that. I am sorry for losing my temper, for yelling and throwing stuff at you. I am sorry I ever doubted you and believed you betrayed me. I am sorry I tried to hurt you with my words, you never deserved anything I called you. I am sorry… well, I am sorry for being myself," he ended clumsily. "Do you want me to send you to your room?"

Belle ignored the last question and studied his face for a few seconds. He didn't dare to meet her eyes.

"Why do you always expect me to stab your back with a knife?" she asked slowly.

Rumpelstiltskin considered how to answer that. Because that's what usually happens to me? Because I'm too hideous for anyone to truly feel anything for me? He felt like he had already shown enough vulnerability to her, apologizing never came easy for him. What if he were to speak his fears out loud? She'd see how pathetic he was and turn away. He felt ashamed for doubting her again but old habits are hard to perish. He finally decided to play around; the question was too serious and should be left till some other night.

"Because," he started, "because you are an assassin after all."

"Hey!" Belle swatted his arm hard enough to sting. "That is not a bit funny!" she protested before throwing her head back and laughing.

Her giggles were extremely contagious and Rumpelstiltskin found himself laughing with her. It wasn't one of his usual mocking sniggers, but laugher born deep within his chest, involuntary and sincere. In truth, he did not mind one bit if the girl would be the death of him. She already possessed more power over him than even his enchanted dagger could grant and for the first time the idea of being controlled did not frighten him.

"You will be forgiven," she said, serious once again after their merriness died away, "but I have conditions."

Rumpelstiltskin felt a pang of disappointment. What would it be? He hardly knew what to expect of Belle but he was so relieved to have her around that he could at least listen.

"I'd like you to let me go outside. I promise I will not disappear or run away. I want you to stop throwing things at me. If there is a problem, I want us to talk it over," his heart skipped a beat at hearing her say us, "while giving me a chance to speak. I want to stop feeling like I am dancing on an edge of a knife with you and some small thing can throw me off balance and send me crashing down. I want you to stop doubting me and accept me in your life. I want you to open up and be honest with me. I want you to let me in, Rumpelstiltskin."

When Belle said she had conditions, that was a blunt understatement. She was asking so little and at the same time so much. Was he ready to let her in? He was afraid of pain, afraid of losing her. But wouldn't he lose her by refusing those requests? The girl looked at him expectantly.

"I cannot promise I will," he said honestly, "but I do promise to try. I will try to do anything it takes to make you happy."

"Anything?" she asked, shifting closer to him.

"Anything," he confirmed. She was so near he could sense the warmth of her body through the thin fabric of her nightgown and the layers of his own clothing. Their breath mingled and the warm puff of the air she exhaled over his lips was enough of a caress to make his belly tighten with desire.

"Anything?" she echoed again, her voice now playful and suggestive, teasing and tempting. As if trying to test how far her abilities to hypnotize him with a single word went, she slipped her small palm into the cut of his shirt to rest it over his heart.

"Yes," Rumpelstiltskin breathed before her lips covered his.

The kiss wasn't a bit gentle. Belle's lips claimed him, her tongue demanded entrance. She groaned as he man parted his lips and she scraped her teeth over them, nibbling, biting, licking every place she could get to – his uneven teeth, his palate, battling his tongue, drunk on realization he was hers to do as she pleased.