Yes, this story has just taken on a life of its own and I can't stop writing it. I am VERY grateful for the positive response! Thank you all - please keep the comments coming!

Oh, and regarding this chapter, I only have this to say. I regret nothing. :)

And I don't own 'Once Upon a Time.'

Chapter 6

The next morning, Belle entered the dining room with Gold's breakfast. She set it in front of him; threw it in front of him was more like it. She then went back into the kitchen, brought out the coffee pot, slammed it down on the table, and turned to walk away.

"Aren't you going to pour my coffee?" Gold asked.

"Pour it yourself." Belle sniped. "And you can stop using that damned chipped cup, I know you're doing it deliberately. There's no need to mock me, it was an accident. I offered to replace it and there's no reason for such immature antics." Gold looked up at her in disbelief.

"Is that what you think I'm doing? Mocking you?" Gold asked. "Princess, if I were mocking you, it would not be subtle, be assured of that." Belle glared at him angrily. "This is about that girl in the skimpy dress that you brought here yesterday, isn't it?"

"What do you think?" Belle asked. "I didn't ask to be put in this situation. But here we are. I found ONE friend – one person in this entire bloody town that's willing to give me a chance at friendship, and I can't even have that much. And you're no help. I try to get to know you, I try to be nice, and all you do is yell and beat things with your cane and just when I think that maybe, just maybe things are getting better you – you really are a beast."

"What are you going to do? Quit? And go where? Go ahead – call Miss Swan. Tell her how horrible I am, it won't be any surprise to her, she's probably stunned it hasn't happened already. Even if you do – you won't be able to go anywhere and be safe. It could take weeks before you're placed in another secure situation. One that's even further from your home – maybe even out of the country. Is that what you want?" Gold asked.

"So you're not going to apologize then?" Belle asked.

"I have nothing to apologize for, Miss Woods. I was merely looking out for your best interest. If anything you should be thanking me." Gold said.

"THANKING you? For what? Running off my only friend? It's amazing she was even willing to come over here at all given that she's been told you -" Belle began, then stopped herself mid-sentence.

"What?" Gold asked.

"Forget it." Belle said.

"No – please. Enlighten me. What did the little girl in the way-too-short skirt have to say to you?" Gold asked. Belle hesitated for a moment.

"She said that you're responsible for the death of her parents." Belle said. Gold crossed his arms and looked at her.

"Did she now?" he asked. "And what do you think? Do you think me capable of such a thing, Miss Woods?" Belle hesitated again.

"I – I don't think you would hurt anyone out of malice." Belle admitted. "I think that's why you lash out at inanimate objects when you lose your temper. I think that's why you keep so many knick knacks around the house. So you can have something to break when you get angry. Better those things than – people."

"You're a very perceptive girl, Miss Woods. Very perceptive, indeed. How about this? I apologize for embarrassing you in front of your friend. But you have to understand – even though you are in a secure situation, you are NOT fully safe. The people that have surrounded you have security clearance and are trying to keep you safe. But anyone else – they could either be friend or foe. And there is no way to tell that until it's too late. NO ONE is above reproach."

"You sound like you work for them." Belle said.

"We have a mutually beneficial business arrangement. I needed a housekeeper and you needed a safe and remote place to hide. Miss Swan and I had a personal connection from a previous business arrangement, and she knew that if you came here, as my maid, not one person in this town would want to be bothered with you. And, well – you being you, you found the only person in town that would be. So my question is – why is that? Is Miss Lucas just being friendly – or does she have other intentions? It's my natural inclination to err on the side of caution, Miss Woods. Unfortunately I may turn out to be wrong in this case. But if I'm not – it's just not worth the risk. I'm sorry."

"Okay. I understand – I suppose. But you never answered my question. Are you responsible for the death of Ruby's parents?" Belle asked. Gold paused for a moment.

"I am not. But I can understand why she would think that." Gold said.

"Why?" Belle asked. "Something to do with your past or – your work?"

"Yes." Gold replied. He looked down at his plate. "I believe my breakfast is cold."

"Sorry. I'll – I'll make you another plate." Belle said.

"No matter – I'm not that hungry right now anyway. Just – make an extra portion for lunch, and I'll take it a bit earlier – eleven sounds good." Gold said. "Do we – have things cleared up now? Am I out of the dog house, so to speak?" he asked. Belle smiled at him.

"I suppose you are." Belle said. "I just wish you wouldn't be so cryptic with me all the time. Why can't you just tell me what you're thinking or what you're feeling? Why do you have to toy with words all the time?"

"I believe you've met your quota of questions for the day, Miss Woods. I'll be in my office. I'll see you at lunch then." Gold got up from the table and left, and Belle sighed in frustration. There had to be some way to get through to this infuriating man, she thought to herself. But how?

The next two weeks went by, and Belle and Gold continued their daily banter – she would ask him questions, and he would answer, sometimes cryptically, sometimes directly, and frequently not at all. But she could tell that he was making an effort to be more calm and polite with her. He hadn't lost his temper during this time – that was new. And he was saying things like 'please' and 'thank you' more often. And the last few evenings she ate dinner with him and he would even engage in banter at dinner time with her. Belle was becoming quite adept in forming her 'questions' as statements so that he was answering far more things than he realized he was.

It was her fifth Sunday at his estate, and Belle was busy cleaning his office when she heard the doorbell ring. She thought that odd – no one came calling on a Sunday. No one came calling at all, really, except for Dr. Hopper (although he was yet to introduce him or admit to her who the man was) and the postman, who simply dropped the mail at the doorstep, rang the bell, and ran off in a fright. Belle was going to answer but by the time she got out into the foyer, Gold was closing the door. In his hand was a single red rose. Belle looked at him with surprise.

"Who was that?" Belle asked.

"Old lady at the door selling flowers. She buzzed the gate and I let her in – figured if she was brave enough to come here I might as well see what she was peddling." Gold said. He offered her the rose. "For you – if you'll have it." Belle smiled at him and took the flower from him.

"Thank you – you're very kind." Belle said. She playfully curtseyed at him, and he in turn bowed to her. "Do you have a vase? I mean – you don't really keep flowers around here, do you?"

"There should be some in the pantry. Mrs. Potts used to enjoy them, she'd bring home a fresh bouquet for herself now and then, and I would usually get her one for her birthday." Gold said. Belle went into the kitchen and opened the pantry door – she moved some things around and found a small vase buried in the back. She took it out, filled it with water, trimmed the stem on the rose, and went into the dining room and set it in the middle of the table. Gold followed her into the kitchen and then the dining room, watching her every move.

"Is something wrong?" Belle asked.

"Just – trying to figure you out." Gold teased. Belle laughed a bit.

"Well, you're not trying hard enough. It shouldn't be that difficult." Belle said. She walked over to him and gave him a hug. Gold stood motionless, trembling a bit. "Thank you again. I'll have to return the kindness somehow."

"No matter. Now – are you going to get my lunch or not?" Gold asked, his tone of voice changing.

"I'll get started right now." Belle said, and she went into the kitchen. She started to think about going out tomorrow to shop. Maybe she could find something special for him – some sort of a surprise to repay his kindness. She thought about it while she was fixing his lunch, and suddenly it dawned on her – she knew exactly what she was going to do for him.

Belle strolled into Granny's Diner after she had finished all of her errands that Monday. Everyone in the restaurant stopped and stared at her. "I thought I told you that you weren't welcome here." Granny said tersely.

"My money is as good as anyone's. I'd like two cherry cobblers please. To go." Belle said.

"I don't have any obligation to serve you." Granny said.

"Granny – please." Ruby interrupted, walking behind Granny. "I'll get them for you, Lacey."

"Thank you." Belle said. Ruby stepped away, and came back a few moments later with a bag.

"Things have been okay then?" Ruby asked.

"Fine." Belle said. "I'm sorry I didn't come to see you last week, I just thought that – well after -"

"It's okay. Maybe tomorrow? If you can?" Ruby asked.

"I'll try." Belle said. "Thank you, Ruby. I'll see you later." Belle said, and she left.

That evening, Belle served Gold his usual Monday evening dinner entrée. He cleaned his plate and commented on how delicious it was. "Are you ready for dessert then?" Belle asked. Gold looked up at her and smiled.

"Most definitely. I have – quite an appetite today." he said. Belle went into the kitchen and came back out with a dessert plate and set it in front of him. Gold looked down at it, then looked up at her. "What is this?" he asked.

"It's cherry cobbler. It's from Granny's diner – it's delicious, I know you like cherry pie, you have that every Saturday, so -"

"Monday is APPLE FRITTER day, Miss Woods!" Gold screamed. "If I wanted cherry cobbler, I would have told you to GET me cherry cobbler!"

"I just thought I'd surprise you, I was trying to do something nice after you got me that rose yesterday." Belle said.

"I don't need you to do anything NICE for me! I don't WANT you to do anything nice for me! That isn't what you're here for!" Gold screamed. He picked up the dish and flung it onto the ground, shattering it. Belle stepped back nervously, shaking a bit.

"I thought things were getting better with you. But they're not, are they? You really are a beast, aren't you?" Belle said. Gold marched over to her and got into her face.

"Don't you ever forget it." he snarled, and he stomped out of the room and up the stairs. Belle looked down on the floor at the shattered plate and the dessert lying in a pile on the floor. For the first time since the day she arrived at the estate, Belle began to cry.

After cleaning up the mess that Gold made, Belle went downstairs. She showered and changed into a pair of pajama pants and a t-shirt. She was still quite upset from her encounter with Gold. She didn't understand – things had been going so well the past two weeks. She just couldn't figure out what was wrong with him. He had been so nice to her, and he hadn't shown any sign of his temper since their long talk almost two weeks prior. She thought they had – been growing closer. Belle cried for nearly half an hour, then settled down. She went into the kitchen and did the dishes and cleaned everything up. She went back downstairs, opened her night stand drawer, and took out the phone that Miss Swan had given her. There was no reception in the basement, so she went upstairs. There was still not much reception in the kitchen, so she stepped out into the foyer. She'd had enough. She was done trying – this man wasn't going to change. Not for her. Not for anyone. Belle was just about to dial the phone when she heard the sound of something crashing to the ground coming from upstairs. What on earth was he doing up there, she wondered. Probably having another fit. Belle sighed in disgust – why must he have such a foul temper? Over cherry cobbler no less. Let him destroy his entire damned study, she thought to herself. It wouldn't be her problem much longer anyway. She picked up the phone again when she heard another crash. That's it, she decided. She was going to have it out with him once and for all – if she was going to be done with him, he was damn well going to know why. It was about time someone told him off. Belle stomped up the stairs and marched over to Gold's study. The room was a wreck. There were several broken knick-knacks strewn across it. And there was Gold, leaning against his spinning wheel, his back to her, his cane in one hand and a nearly empty bottle in the other. "That's enough of this." Belle shouted. Gold turned around.

"Oh – look who it is. The little maid." Gold said. He started to move toward her and staggered – he was drunk. VERY drunk. "Come to watch the beast in action, have we Princess?" he asked, slurring his words, his Scottish accent thickening. Belle looked down at the bottle he was holding. She reached for it and he pulled it away. "Ah – can't get it! It's mine! All. Mine." Gold said, and he took another drink. The second he finished, Belle quickly yanked it from his hand. There was barely any liquid still left in the bottle – it was a bottle of Scotch Whiskey.

"Was this full when you started drinking?" Belle asked.

"Took one little drink last week – or was it two weeks? Or three? I forget. Damned Emma Swan." Gold grumbled, and he tried to get the bottle back from Belle but she pulled it away.

"My god, you had to have had what – that's over a dozen shots of straight whiskey!" Belle said.

"I'm Scottish – I can handle it." he said, his words becoming more and more slurred.

"Right. You look like you're handling it well." Belle said sarcastically. "All this over a cherry cobbler?" Gold got in her face and pointed his finger at her.

"You – you come into my home with your pretty blue eyes and your annoying questions and your constant chatter and you make me tell you things I've never told anyone. And you touch my hand and you smile at me and you – you broke my cup." he said drunkenly. "That tea set has been in my family four – what do you call it? Four generations. Brought it here from Scotland. And you broke one. And I didn't get mad at you. Because you're pretty. I've never seen a pretty as girl as you, Miss Woods." he said, slurring his words and mixing them up. Belle couldn't help but laugh at him, even though she knew she shouldn't.

"Is that why you use the cup? Because you didn't get mad that I broke it?" Belle asked.

"It reminds me that I can be in control – of – this." Gold said, and he waved his hand around the room at the mess of knick knacks strewn across the floor, stumbling as he did so. Belle set the bottle of whiskey down on the coffee table and grabbed him to steady him. "If I choose to be that is – and I choose not to be today, because that is my choice."

"Come on – let's get you to bed." Belle said, putting her arm around him. Gold dropped his cane on the floor and began to laugh.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you? I've seen you flirting with me, you think I haven't noticed that? That's why you brought me something nice, to flirt with me and tease me. Why would you do that, you don't even like me." Gold said as she walked with him. He leaned heavily on her and she struggled to keep him upright.

"I like you very much, Mr. Gold." Belle said.

"Ian." Gold said as she sat him down on the bed and started to pull back the covers. "Please call me Ian. Nobody ever calls me that anymore."

"Okay – Ian. Come on – let's get you out of these clothes." Belle said, and she started to remove his jacket. Gold started to laugh again.

"You're taking my clothes off." he said, his words becoming more incoherent.

"Yes, I am. Can't have you passing out wearing this stuffy suit and tie, you'll choke yourself." Belle said.

"Can I take your clothes off, too?" he asked. "I think I'd like that."

"Not tonight, sweetheart. Maybe some other time – we'll have to talk about that when you're actually sober." Belle said.

"I think I'd like taking your clothes off. I bet you're beautiful under them. Just as beautiful as you are with them on. Have I told you that you're beautiful?" Gold asked as Belle fumbled with his tie and managed to remove it.

"Well, you said I was pretty a few minutes ago – I believe that's the same thing." Belle said. She unbuttoned his shirt and helped him off with it. "I'm going to go get a pair of your pajamas out of the drawer, alright? Can you stay sitting up?"

"Of course I can. I'm not that drunk." Gold said. The moment that Belle stood up and walked away, Gold flopped backward onto the bed. Belle shook her head as she took out a pair of pajamas from the drawer and went back to the bed with them. She sat down on the edge of the bed, grabbed Gold's arms, and pulled him back up.

"Come on – let's get you dressed for bed." Belle said. She glanced briefly at his bare chest – there were several scars there. Old injuries that had already healed, two on his chest and one on his shoulder, and there was a scar that looked like a surgical scar on his abdomen. Belle instantly felt pity for him, but turned her focus back to getting him settled in bed for the night. He was extremely willing in allowing her to put the pajama top onto him. His eyes started to look glazed over and she knew she had to finish at least this part quickly because she thought he was likely to pass out at any moment. Once both of his arms were in the pajama top, she began to work on buttoning it. She was halfway finished when she felt him cup her chin in his hand. Belle looked up at him.

"So beautiful." he whispered. He moved his lips toward her and kissed her. He gave her several soft kisses on the lips and then smiled – it was a drunken smile but Belle could still see the sincerity in it. "Come to bed with me, Lacey. Please." he said, his words slurred. "No – not Lacey. You're not Lacey, that name isn't right. I need to find out what prat at the agency picked that name for you and have them fired. It doesn't fit you at you at all. You're Belle. Belle, Belle, Belle. Beautiful Belle." he said. Belle blushed a bit and she finished buttoning his pajama top. "Please come to bed with me because I'll be sober tomorrow and I won't have the courage to ask you. I'm a coward, Belle. Did you know that? I'm a coward." He wrapped his arms around her and put his head on her shoulder. He started to kiss her softly on the neck.

"Ian – no. You're very drunk. And you won't even remember any of this in the morning." Belle said, pushing him away.

"I am will too not remember this." he said, slurring his words and not making sense at all. He sat up for a moment and started to sway a bit, then turned to look at her. "Belle."

"What?" Belle asked.

"I think I'm going to be sick." he mumbled. Belle sighed.

"Come on – I really don't want to clean up that mess, let's get you to the bathroom, good thing it's not far." Belle said. She helped him stand up. He put his arm around her and he leaned against her even more than before. He was still wearing his suit pants and shoes. "Can you get down on the floor?"

"I can do that. Getting up is a bit trickier." he said. Belle helped him kneel down on the floor. He winced in pain when his right knee hit the ground. He leaned over the toilet bowl and heaved for several minutes, as Belle held back his hair and held onto him. When he was done he fell into Belle's arms and nuzzled against her. "Take me to bed, love. I don't feel well."

"You're going to feel even worse tomorrow." Belle remarked. "Come on – let's get you up. Here – I'm going to put your hand on the sink counter. You hang on to that and I'll pull you up, alright?"

"Whatever you say, love. I'll do whatever you say." he mumbled. After some struggle, Belle got him into a standing position and led him to bed, having even more difficulty getting him to walk than the prior two times. He was barely able to remain conscious at this point. When Belle reached the bed with him, she held onto him as she pulled back the covers a bit further and eased him into the bed.

"You need to drink a bit of water before you completely pass out. I don't want you getting too dehydrated." Belle said.

"I just want to sleep." he mumbled.

"I know, sweetheart. I just want to get some water in you, I'll be right back." Belle said. She went back into the bathroom and got a cup and filled it with tap water, then went back into the bedroom. Gold's eyes were closed, his mouth open a bit and he was snoring softly. "Ian – come on wake up for just a minute, then you can sleep, alright?" Belle said, shaking him. He mumbled and groaned. Belle tapped his face several times until he opened his eyes. "Ian. Here – just drink a bit of water, I don't want you getting sick in your sleep and this will help." Belle said. She put her arms around him and helped him sit up, then put the cup of water to his lips. "Come on – take a drink, nice and slow." she said. After a bit of coaxing she got him to drink the water. He coughed a bit as he took the final drink and she held him close and rubbed his back gently. "It's alright. You're alright, Ian." She eased his head back on the pillow and grabbed two more, propping them up behind his head so that he wasn't lying back flat. Belle gently ran her hand across his forehead and down his cheek. "I hope you didn't have much planned for tomorrow love, because you're going to have one hell of a day. If you had drunk much more or if I hadn't come up here you'd have likely gotten alcohol poisoning."

"I should be so lucky." Gold mumbled.

"Don't say that." Belle said. "I need you. Where on earth would I go if anything happened to you?"

"You're going to leave me anyway. I'm going to lose you just like I lost Bae. That's why I can't have you, Belle. That's why I push you away. I'll hurt you, just like I did Bae, and I don't want to hurt you." Gold said, his eyes barely staying open.

"Who's Bae? Ian, who's Bae?" Belle asked, but Gold closed his eyes began snoring almost immediately. Belle took off his shoes, leaving his socks on. She fussed with the belt on his suit pants, then lowered the zipper on his pants and carefully began to remove them. Gold mumbled incoherently several times as she did this but didn't awaken. When Belle finally got his pants off she glanced at his right leg – it was badly scarred. She could tell by the looks of it that he had wounded it quite severely. She could tell the scar traveled down to his ankle, but he still wore his socks so she couldn't see it. Belle took his pajama bottoms and struggled to put them on him, his dead weight becoming difficult to maneuver, as Gold was completely passed out at this point. It took her some time, but she finally got the pajama bottoms on him. She got him settled under the covers. Belle debated over whether or not to stay with him for the night. She was pretty sure he wasn't going to wake up for quite some time, but she was concerned that he might become sick in his sleep and choke. He had drunk quite a bit – she was amazed that he remained conscious for as long as he did after she found him. That only told her one thing – this wasn't the first time he'd drunk himself into a stupor like this. And she realized it wasn't over cherry cobbler – it was over her. He was in love with her. She could see it in his eyes, as glazed over as they were. And even drunk, he wasn't able to say the words, although he said everything but. Belle couldn't help but smile a bit to herself. Because as irritating as this man was – she felt the same way about him.

Belle quietly left the room for a moment – she decided it would be best for her to remain upstairs with him that night, just to make sure he was going to be alright. She headed back downstairs to turn all of the lights off, as she had left them on. She then headed back up the stairs. She was just about to enter Gold's room when she noticed something odd. There was a door that was cracked open and a light was on inside of the room. It was room in the west wing. He had told her explicitly that she was not to enter that part of the house. Oh, but she was sure that he wouldn't want the light on in there all night. He must have been in there before he went into his study and started drinking and forgot to close it.

Belle nervously approached the room and pushed the door open a bit further. She was stunned at what she saw. The room was filled with toys. Toys that clearly belonged to a child – a male child, maybe about the age of nine or ten. But they were older toys – Star Wars and superhero figurines and digital games that were popular in the early 1990's but were long since obsolete. It looked like some sort of shrine. There was bed with GI Joe bed sheets, spread, and pillow cases. Next to the bed there was a small wooden nightstand. There was a photo on the nightstand. It was him – it was a photo of Gold. A much younger version of Gold – with a young boy, probably around eight or nine years old. There were several framed awards hanging on the walls – most of them elementary school academic awards. And they had the same name on them. Bailey Neal Gold.