While Rumple was at work, Belle had spent the day organizing his mansion a bit. Reorganizing his bookshelves (she'd asked if he liked them how they were; he'd replied he'd been meaning to organize them alphabetically by titles). Removing spoiled food from his refrigerator and pantry. Smelling his colognes in the bathroom and organizing them by how much she liked them.

She cleaned the table and discovered a set of shelves that hadn't been dusted in several years.

When she was satisfied she wasn't a lazy bum, she'd found a juicy-sounding novel and got comfortable in their bed under their blanket. She became enraptured in the book.

"Belle. Belle. Belle."

Belle blinked. Deeply engrossed in her book, the fact someone was calling her name hadn't registered as more than the sound of a bird chirruping.

Leaning her head back, she turned in the direction of the voice and was unsurprised to lock gazes with Rumple.

"Good book, eh? The ending's a bit head-splitting, but other than that, it's a fine read."

"Yes, it is," she stated agreeably, stretching like a cat. Finding an envelope on the desk beside the bed, she marked her place then shook the blanket off and stood out of bed. Rumple offered his hand; she accepted it and let him help her up. "It doesn't hurt that I've been starved for books." With a sweet smile, she asked, "How was your day?"

"The townsfolk are in an uproar on the mystery of the break-in. Apparently," with Belle's arm tucked into his, he led her out of the bedroom and to the dining room table through a hallway, "either Emma is her mother's daughter or Grumpy has been upcycling that tongue of his. I think the only way Snow can keep a secret provided she's in the know," he asserted gravely, "is if keeping her lips sealed saves Charming's life." Belle sat at the table. Rumple opened the refrigerator. "Otherwise, you have to," he beckoned at a bottle of water before removing it, "cut out her tongue." He twisted the cap off and took a swig.

"Maybe," suggested Belle, watching Rumple with loving eyes, "Emma told and trusted Snow." Rumple choked on the water, spitting some out and into the sink, and coughing hard on the rest. "You see what I mean," she determined, dropping her chin on her hands.

Swallowing with pain, Rumple jerked his head up. "Snow wouldn't advertise she's a tattletale. Her defense is, 'I was ten!'" Pointing at Belle with a finger attached to the hand wrapped around the bottle, he muttered, "But every secret she's been trusted with has been leaked. Coincidence? I think not." He sat down beside her. "Would you like some water too?"

"Nah, that's okay…I'm not thirsty." Belle put her hands on his chest and smiled dreamily at him. "I love your hair…Can I run my fingers through it?"

"If anyone else asked, I'd use magic to sever their hand," deadpanned Rumple. "This is a privilege reserved for you. Run your hands through it all you like."

She crawled her hands up his neck and face. Once on top of his head, she caressed down with her palm. Huskily, she said, "Maybe some women would prefer you with short hair." Batting her lashes, she finished, "Not me. I would be disappointed…stupid as it sounds, if you cut your hair. I would probably cry."

Taking her hand in his, Rumple radiated love. "It's not stupid. I am glad you like my hair. Are you sure you wouldn't like something to drink?"

"You know what I want? My father never let me try beer."

Holding out his palms, two cold bottles of alcohol appeared, one in each hand. "Beer or wine cooler?"

Belle's brow arched with interest and indecision. "Can I have both?"

"You're not my prisoner." Rumple pressed his forehead against hers. "Of course you can have both."

She tried the fuzzy navel wine cooler first and swirled it thoughtfully in her mouth before swallowing. "It's very sweet."

"Good or bad?"

"Good. I like it." Then she tried the beer and spat it out.

Smirking confusedly, Rumple asked, "What were you expecting?"

"Sorry." She fanned her throat then took a long drink of the wine cooler. "I didn't expect it to be that cold…or bitter." Her lips twisted downward. "Now that I know, drinking it might be easier…" She tried another sip. "Yeah." Though she flinched, she opined, "The second taste isn't as awful as the first. Maybe the more you drink it, the less ghastly it becomes…but I think if," she fluffed out her hair, "I ever say I like beer…" Her lips puckered, and she grimaced, "I'll be bluffing." She reached a hand up to massage the area below her ears with her thumb and forefinger, as the minor gulp of the beer had brought pain to that area.

Sipping the wine cooler, Belle nudged the beer at Rumple with her other hand. "Never mind. You have it. I don't want to condition myself to hating it less." Grabbing his hand, she squeezed. "I arranged your colognes in order of how much I like the smell. For date night." Playing with his hand, she confessed, "I'm not ready to go out yet. I'm very nervous," her shoulder blades twitched, "to see Regina. I'll need to get over it before we do date night."

Tilting his head, Rumple asserted, "She thinks you're still in the ward." Pulling her hand up to his lips, he kissed it.

Swallowing bile, Belle forced herself to nod firmly. "For now, let's keep it that way." She stopped what she was doing to peer into his eyes. She got swept up in them. A surge of joy made her lift her hands to stroke his cheeks. This was the man she loved…so much that her toes curled under the table.

Flirtatiously, she wondered, "What do you want?" Blinking slowly, she tried to make him want her.

He was silent for a few moments. Staring at her, he positioned the brim of the bottle under his nose and pressed. Finally, he broke the eye contact. Staring at the brim of the bottle, he answered cryptically, "The road to hell is paved with good intentions." He followed this statement by drinking deeply.

Rubbing his thumb along the brim, he murmured, "I picked you up a little present today, my love. It's no more than a trinket, a token of my affection."

Beaming, Belle draped her body upon his lap. "Whatever it is," she began huskily. Studying the ceiling, she paused, squelching her joy. Hoping to seem womanly in spite of her childlike delight. "If it came from your heart, I know I'll love it."

"Don't say that until you know what it is." Rumple reached in his dress jacket pocket. "Feast your eyes on…" He placed something flat on the table under his palm. Slowly, he withdrew his hand and revealed the bronze key.

Belle's mouth dropped. "Is…is this…?"

Rumple nodded heartily. "The key to the library," he confirmed.

Belle threw her arms around his neck. Blushing, she asserted, "Nothing could make me happier." Shaking her forefinger over her shoulder, she implored, "Don't you go spoiling me."

Adjusting his tie, Rumple avoided her eyes. "It's not spoiling. It's gifting you with chores. It's so dusty in there, you're going to need to punt Tom Clark ahead of you unless you wish to sneeze your lungs out. Let the dust stick to him, then enter."

Patting his hand, she assured him, "Nah, that's okay. I'll cover my nose and mouth with a sheet."

Arching his brow, Rumple said, "Lamb stew for dinner? How unorthodox…"

Belle sat in wondrous silence on his lap, gnawing her bottom lip. With sparkling eyes, she finally gasped, "I can't believe you did this for me! And so soon! I can't wait until I can get it clean then feast my eyes on those books…Does this world have a dust sucker?" She stroked the key how someone else would have stroked a dog. Then she pocketed it but quickly pulled it out again. Her face turning serious, she decided, "I'll keep it on the table so it won't have a chance to slip on the floor somewhere and get lost."

Curling against his chest, she opened her blue eyes in a way that goaded him to cup her chin in his hands and kiss the side of her chin. "You taste so good! Can I lick your eyelashes again?"

She swatted him. "You're developing a fetish," she expressed in a feigned lecturing monotone. "They're incredibly rotten for your health."

Rumple met her lips with his. "Dark Ones have no health."

The doorbell rang. Rumple went to see who it was.

He found Red pacing on his porch. "My cloak is gone! I'm supposed to transform in two days! Is it by any chance in your shop?"

"I haven't seen it."

Red dug her nails into her palms. "That bites. It's got to be here somewhere…" She turned her head and stared at the setting sun, trying to wrack her brain.

Scratching his hairless chin, Rumple suggested, "You should try the pet supply shop."

Breathlessly, Red muttered, "Pet supply shop, right. Good thinking." She jogged off. Rumple closed the door.

He strode back to where Belle was waiting, gulping down her wine cooler.

Smiling hungrily at Rumple, Belle savored, "I love you! And I feel like gushing it on a mountain." Winking flirtatiously, she reached for the hand of his that wasn't bringing the beer bottle to his mouth. "That way, if I get too exhausted, the echo can do it for me."

Rumple chuckled.

Feeling buzzy, Belle wondered, "So who was at the door?"

"Red," he answered lightly. "Wanting to know if I knew where her red cape was…honestly, it's a bit useless, considering she's turned on nights when she slept with it. I'm not sure why she's panicking over its absence."

"Maybe it's a security blanket," offered Belle.

"I suppose." Guzzling his beer, he used his magic to clear the table then hopped up to dance. "Want a striptease, my love?"

Eyes twinkling, Belle whistled cajolingly at him. "Take them pants off! Let 'er rip!"

Clucking, he held up a finger. "First the boots." He pulled one so the heel was at his toes then kicked the brown shoe into her waiting hands. "Then the socks." The other boot sailed in the other direction and hit a wall. Rumple shook his booty to Belle's incredulous laughter. "Then the shirt." He cocked his head and made a naughty gesture with his tongue. "Then it's go time." He bent low and left his ass high in the air. "The pants are coming off…but not as fast as you want them to."