Faeries hide what you want & reveal what you need

And this year’s cookie assortment:

The commodore liked his stocking very much.

But for some reason, he did not like his Christmas sweater.

He has two new siblings!  Meet Princess Bailey Poofytail...

...and The Rutabaga.

Fae Fae’s latest hobby is trying to get a picture of all three of them looking at the camera.

“You could make yourself useful and find some of those old baskets that are just hanging around collecting dust.  I’m going to turn them into Easter baskets and put them in the front window.”

“You will do no such thing.”  Just the thought of her bringing cheap cellophane grass into the shop made Gold want to retch.  Even if she tried to contain it, they’d be finding strands of the stuff everywhere for the next six months.

Belle stuck her tongue out at him.  “We both know I’m going to win.  I always win.  If you quit arguing and help me, I’ll have more energy for the bedroom tonight.”

Her bold promise was almost enough to convince him to give in, but that would ruin the game.  “You can put up decorations on one condition.”

Her eyebrows lifted with interest.  “And that condition is?”

Confident that he’d outmaneuvered her, Gold smirked.  “On the condition that you can explain to me what exactly chocolate rabbits and dyed eggs have to do with the Resurrection story this holiday purportedly celebrates.”

He wasn’t a religious man, but everyone knew the Easter story.  At no point did rabbits, chicks, eggs, or chocolate appear.  He might not win the battle over decorations, but at least he could force Belle to admit that one of her precious holidays was utter nonsense.

“Not a thing,” she admitted, her voice breezy.

It wasn’t like Belle to admit defeat so easily.  Actually, it wasn’t like her to admit defeat at all, and Gold was torn between disappointment that the game had ended so quickly and worry that Belle’s out of character behavior was a sign that she was feeling unwell.  

She held his gaze from the opposite side of the shop, and as he returned her steady look, Gold started to get the feeling that he’d missed something.  Belle had yielded verbally, but her challenging expression dared him to claim his victory.

“Then I trust I’ll hear no more about Easter baskets and the like?”  He was almost certain that he was walking into a trap, but the only way to find out was to take the bait.

With a crooked smile, she announced, “I’ll leave that up to you.”

Clearly, she wanted him to ask what she meant, but as far as Gold was concerned, he’d already yielded enough ground in their current battle of wills.  Calling on decades of experience, he stared her down, needing every bit of his self-control to keep his mouth from twitching at the growing frustration in her eyes when he refused to do as she wished.

It was Belle who gave in first.  “The early Christian church wasn’t stupid.  They knew that if they wanted people to accept a new religion, it wasn’t a good idea to take all of their favorite celebrations away.  So, they adapted them.”

Although he wasn’t sure what this exploration of the history of the Christian church had to do with their current disagreement over Easter decorations, Gold was content to absorb her lecture.  He rather thought he would be content to listen to her read the phone book, and this topic was at least interesting.

“The celebration of the winter solstice turned into Christmas, and the spring equinox festival became Easter.  It’s even named after a pagan goddess— Eostre.  That’s where all the bunnies and eggs come from.  It’s a celebration of spring, and spring is all about rebirth and fertility.  What’s more fertile than a rabbit?”  Belle smirked at her own joke.

“It’s a festival about going at it like rabbits.  Sex, with a side dish of chocolate.  So, you tell me, Nachton.  Is that something you’re interested in celebrating?”  Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she stalked closer.

Trapped by her gaze, Gold felt like prey, a sensation he quite liked.  “I suppose we could put up a decoration or two.”

Between his sweet tooth and his hunger for Belle, it sounded as though Easter was a celebration of all of his favorite treats.  If chocolate-covered Belle was a possibility, he might actually deign to dye a few eggs of his own.

“I knew you’d see it my way.”  Belle looped her arms around his neck to pull him down for a kiss, the counter between them preventing him from embracing her properly.  

With his bad leg, attempting to vault the counter was probably a very bad idea, but Gold was seriously considering it before the bell over the door rang to admit a customer.  He released Belle to greet the arrival with a snarl, an expression that didn’t change when he realized he was glowering at Sean Herman, who looked remarkably well-rested for a man with a newborn baby at home.

Belle slipped away, leaving him to deal with Sean.  “I need something that looks expensive.”

“Looks expensive,” Gold echoed as he tightened his fist around the handle of his cane in an attempt to resist the urge to throw Sean bodily out of the shop so he and Belle could restart the private fertility festival the other man had interrupted.

Sean nodded.  “Ashley’s pissed at me.”

“How surprising.”  Ashley Boyd was generally angry with her useless boyfriend about something, but with a new infant to care for, Gold was willing to bet her irritation was more justified than usual.

“I know, right?  Women are crazy.”  Sean shook his head in apparent bemusement before continuing, “Anyway, I thought some earrings or a necklace would help.  Something sparkly.”

It went against all of Gold’s instincts to offer advice to the younger man.  If left to his own devices, he preferred to watch others struggle from his position of superiority, but he was conscious that Belle was assuredly still within earshot and would probably prefer that he at least try to hammer some sense into Sean.  “Babies require a great deal of care.  She might appreciate help more than a piece of jewelry.”

“Babies are a girl thing,” Sean said dismissively.  “Besides, all they do is sleep and eat.  It can’t be that hard.”

Since absolutely everything the younger man just said was incorrect, Gold had no idea where to begin.  He’d taken full care of Bae from the day he was born, proving definitively that possession of a Y chromosome didn’t render someone incapable of nurturing an infant.  And if he remembered anything from that time, it was that babies needed quite a bit more than an occasional bottle and a place to sleep.

Eventually, Sean drooped a bit under Gold’s steady glare.  “It’s not like I’m not doing anything!  I’m bringing home a paycheck.  That’s important!”

If he told Sean that there were more important things in life than money, the younger man would never believe him.  A year ago, Gold’s own younger self might not have believed him either.

“I’ll help more when she’s older.  Right now, she’s too… little.”  Apparently satisfied by the compromise he’d reached with himself, Sean rallied, “So do you have anything that’ll sweeten Ashley up in the meantime?  I don’t want to spend that much if I don’t have to.”

If Belle called him out, at least Gold could say that he’d tried.  

Since Ashley would never believe her boyfriend could afford something elaborate, Gold found a modest pendant featuring a square cubic zirconia set in a halo of smaller crystals on a chain plated in rose gold that would fool an untrained eye and charged Sean Herman five times more for the worthless piece than he would have charged anyone else.  

As he packaged the necklace, Gold gave in to a petty impulse and slid the sticker indicating that the stones were cubic zirconia into the side of the presentation box.  Ashley wouldn’t find it today, but she would find it eventually, and he wouldn’t want to be in Sean Herman’s shoes on that day.  If the younger man dared challenge him, Gold even had plausible deniability that he’d been unaware the sticker was there.

By the time he sent Sean back to his girlfriend, the shop was starting to fill up with customers.  While he was otherwise occupied, Belle had made good on her threat to turn one of their antique baskets into an Easter basket, filling it with colored shreds of paper in lieu of cellophane grass before adding a few trinkets that had been languishing on the shelves for years interspersed with individually wrapped candies and crowning it off with a cascade of ribbons.   From the attention it was getting, they were going to sell out of their stock of baskets by the end of the day.  

Belle was never going to let him forget about this.

Finally, there was a lull in the activity, and Belle paused her basket making activities to give his waist a squeeze.  “You were surprisingly patient with Sean Herman.  I probably would have smacked him.”

“It was tempting,” Gold admitted.

Since Belle had shared his frustration, perhaps she wouldn’t hold his act of petty vengeance against him.  “I did take the liberty of slipping the cubic zirconia sticker into the presentation box.  I imagine Ashley will eventually stumble across it.”

With a wicked chuckle, Belle slipped her hand lower to squeeze his posterior.  “That was mean.”

“Yes, it was.”  Daringly, Gold allowed his own hands to wander to Belle’s bottom, and the adorable little squeal she let out assured him that she wasn’t the slightest bit offended by his forward behavior.

“You’re a bad boy, Nachton,” she purred.

Gold wasn’t sure if she was referring to his actions with Sean Herman or where his hands were at that moment, but either way, she didn’t seem to be complaining.  Instead, her eyes were dark as she gazed up at him through her eyelashes, and Gold swallowed hard as she deliberately licked her lips.

“Very bad,” he agreed breathlessly as he gave her a little tug to pull her fully into his arms.

He was careful not to lower his head too much, loving the frustrated noise Belle made when she discovered she could only reach his chin with her lips.  It was rewarding to feel tall, which he was only in comparison to her, but it was even better to know how badly she wanted to feel his mouth against hers.  

To prolong the delicious anticipation, he lifted his chin, and Belle landed a swat on his rear to punish him.  “Nachton…”

Her voice carried a warning, but he was enjoying the game.  “Was there something you wanted?”

She nipped at his Adam’s apple, driving the breath from his lungs.  “I want you to be good.”

“I thought you liked it when I was bad.”  Gold was surprised by how calm his voice sounded as he teased her since he felt dangerously close to losing his self-control.  If he did that, he would lose their game, but the taste of her lips would be worth it.

Taking the matter out of his hands, Belle wrapped one hand around his tie to jerk his head down, her tongue forcing his lips open the moment she could reach his mouth with her own.  With a groan, Gold opened for her, content to do nothing but cling to her hips as she plundered him.  

When she started backing him toward the curtain that separated the back of the shop from the front, he went willingly, too lost in her mouth to remember that the shop was still technically open.  If Belle wanted to throw him down on the cot and ravage him, she would find him an eager participant.  

The sound of the bell ringing just as they reached the cot was as welcome as a gunshot, and Belle released him with a groan.  “I hate people.”

“I’ll get rid of them,” Gold promised.  Scaring people away was one of his particular talents, and he’d never been more eager to make use of it.

“And lock the door.”  Belle held his gaze as she sat down on the side of the cot and undid the first two buttons of her blouse.

No further urging was necessary.  All but tripping over his own feet with his eagerness to get back to Belle, Gold stalked through the curtain to the front room and froze as he locked eyes with the new arrival.

The small girl quailed under his scowl but proved she was made of sterner stuff than most of Storybrooke’s residents when she didn’t turn tail and run.  Instead, she squared her small shoulders and warily approached the counter, tilting her head back so she could see over it.

Gold swept his gaze over the interior of the shop, but the child didn’t appear to be accompanied by an adult.  That made the process of identifying her a bit more difficult.  There was something slightly familiar about the little girl, whom he estimated to be a year or so younger than Grace, but he couldn’t put a name to the face.  

“May I help you?”  He modulated his voice carefully to make sure his tone indicated no more than polite curiosity.  Since the child was brave enough to approach him without an adult at her back and looked too young to pull any pranks, he was inclined to hear her out.

Without a word, the little girl reached up and placed a well-loved Barbie doll on the counter.  

To cover his confusion, Gold examined the doll as meticulously as he would take stock of any other item a customer wished to pawn.  The doll’s lacy floral gown was missing one of its straps but was in otherwise acceptable condition.  The doll’s hair, on the other hand, was a mess, the locks matted and stiff with what looked suspiciously like clay.

“Grace said you could fix her.”

“Ah.”  

If Grace was telling all of her little friends about his skill at styling dolls’ hair, it would do his reputation as the town’s boogeyman no favors.  He couldn’t scare people into compliance if no one was scared of him.  They should probably have a discussion about that.

As he met the girl’s anxious eyes, he couldn’t quite bring himself to make an example of her.  “She’ll never be like new again,” he cautioned.  

Without breaking eye contact, the girl placed two crumpled dollar bills on the counter next to the doll.

Fighting the urge to laugh, Gold slipped the payment for his services into his jacket pocket.  “I’ll do the best I can.  Come back on Friday to get her.”

With a solemn nod, the girl accepted his terms and gave her doll a gentle pat of farewell before leaving the pawnshop without another word.

Bemused, he picked up the doll to see what he’d let himself in for.  In comparison with this doll, Grace’s misadventure with the gum had been nothing.  Tentatively fingering the hair warned him that it was so stiff that he was likely to snap a chunk of it off if he wasn’t careful.

So distracted was he by the commission that he all but forgot why he’d come back out onto the floor until Belle slipped through the curtain.  “Is everything all right?”

“Belle!  I…” he trailed off, realizing that it was probably unwise to admit he’d forgotten they were about to make love.

At the sight of the doll in his hands, she came closer to examine it.  “Was Grace here?”

“No.  Apparently, she spread the word about my skill with hair styling.  A young client was eager to engage my services.”  He reached into his pocket to retrieve the two dollars he’d been paid in advance.

Belle’s lips twitched at the sight.  “Nachton Gold: Barbie Stylist.  I’m sure you’re worth every penny.”

“I don’t even know where to start,” he admitted as he examined the doll again.

“Don’t look at me.  Mostly I just chopped my dolls’ hair off when it got too ratty.  They looked like a punk band.”  She craned her neck to look closer before shaking her head.  “I assume that’s not what your client is looking for.”

“I don’t believe it is, no.”  He twisted the doll’s head, wondering how quickly he could source an identical Barbie doll.  If he popped the original doll’s head off and replaced it with one in better condition, it would solve the problem.

Of course, his client hadn’t asked him for a new doll; she’d requested that he fix her old one.  No matter how identical the replacement might look to his eyes, children tended to notice tiny details.  Gold had learned that the hard way after the washing machine ate Bae’s stuffed duck.  Even though he’d found an identical duck, Bae hadn’t been fooled for an instant by the doppelgänger.

“I suppose I’ll need to do some research.”  If the internet could tell him how to get gum out of a doll’s hair, it should provide him with a strategy for dried clay.

He looked up from his contemplation of the doll to see Belle gazing at him.  “What?”

“It wasn’t that long ago that you would have handled this very differently.”  Belle snickered.  “Last fall, if a little girl handed you a doll, you would have ripped its head off and eaten it in front of her.”

“I doubt I would have gone that far.”  He definitely would have ordered the child out of the shop and perhaps tossed the doll in the trash if she attempted to force it on him, but he wouldn’t have eaten it.

“And now look at you.  You’re a pushover.”  Taking hold of the end of his tie, Belle used it to tickle his nose.

“I’m being paid for my services.”  He hadn’t surrendered all of his principles.  It wasn’t as though he was giving the child something for nothing.  True, two dollars wasn’t much of a fee, but there was such a thing as a sliding scale.  One-to-one marketing was a valid business strategy.

Belle dropped his tie.  “Whatever helps you sleep at night, Nachton.  Keep telling yourself you’re a miserable grouch.  I know the truth.”

The laughter in her voice told him that she meant only to tease, but her words made him go cold.  “Perhaps my father was correct.”

“What do you—?”

A flash of movement outside the shop distracted her, and Belle ran to lock the door before anyone else could decide to come in and shop.  Once that was done, she returned to his side and caught his arm, trying to tug him into the back room.  “What are you talking about?”

Gold refused to cooperate, preferring to stare down at the contents of the display case in front of him.  By concentrating on the items before his eyes, he could distract himself from the topic at hand.  “He always said that I just needed to get laid.  According to him, that would fix everything.”

Ever since his relationship with Belle became physical, Gold had wrestled with the idea that his father might have had a valid point.  If even Belle thought his personality had changed for the better since they became intimate, the evidence that his father had been right was too strong to be dismissed.

“Nachton…”  Giving up on trying to move him, Belle instead pressed herself closer and slid her arm around his waist.

“Having sex with me didn’t ‘fix’ you.  You didn’t need fixed.”  She rubbed her face against his shoulder.  “Besides, you’re still a contrary bastard.  Remember what you did to Sean Herman this morning with the necklace?”

That reminder offered some comfort.  “That’s true.”

“You’re still you.”  She squeezed his waist.

“Am I?”  He’d never been the sort of man children flocked to so he could fix their toys.

Belle pulled back to look at him critically, apparently searching his physical form for any sign of change.

“Yes,” she said finally.  “You’re just happier now.”

Gold frowned as he considered that, and Belle hurried to explain herself, apparently assuming he was rejecting her assessment.  “You were hurting before.  That’s why you lashed out so much.  You were sad and lonely and in pain, and you took it out on other people.  Now, you don’t have to do that so much.”

She took his hand, lacing their fingers together.  “Now, you have people who love you.  That’s what you needed.  You didn’t need sex.  You just needed to be loved.”

When she said it like that, it was so simple that Gold couldn’t understand why he hadn’t seen it himself.  He’d changed, yes, but he’d misidentified the reason.  The things that had happened to him—Bae’s loss, Milah’s betrayal, his father’s cruelty— had left deep wounds on his psyche, but since meeting Belle, those wounds had started to heal.  

He wasn’t becoming a different person.  He was becoming the person he would have been without pain and loss tying him into knots.

More importantly, he wasn’t the only one.  “I lashed out because I was in pain.  You ran because you were.”

Belle let out a rueful sigh.  “Yeah.”

That gave him the final piece of the puzzle.  Belle hadn’t stopped running away just because he loved her.  She’d stopped because she’d allowed herself to love him.  In the same way, he’d started mending his broken places, not when he went to bed with Belle, but when he opened his heart to her.

His father had been right, in a way, but it had been for the wrong reasons.  For Gold, sex was always meant to be an expression of love, and it was love that had changed everything.  Malcolm Gold would never understand that, and for the first time in his life, Gold felt sorry for his father.

Using his grip on Belle’s hand, he pulled her into his arms so he could kiss the top of her head.  “You’re right.”

She let out a soft laugh.  “You’re convinced all ready?  That was easy.”

“You’re very persuasive.”  He leaned down to claim her mouth.

He could feel her smiling against his lips.  “Does that mean you’re going to help me make Easter baskets?”

If she was going to look at him like that, he would do whatever she wanted, even make Easter baskets, but fortunately, he had an ready-made excuse.  “I would, but I need to wash a doll’s hair.”

Her giggle warmed his soul.  “Maybe you can give me a hand once you’re finished with your styling.”

Gold pretended to think it over as he caressed her hip.  “After that, I think we have a fertility festival to celebrate.”

“You know…”  Belle wound her fingers through the ends of his hair.  “The door is locked.  We could celebrate first.”

For a moment, he was tempted to argue simply for the sake of doing so, but common sense quickly won out.  He caught her hand and tugged her toward the back.  “Your idea is better.”

He started at the sound of her voice.  Belle’s eyes were still closed, but a faint smile was playing at her lips.

“I didn’t mean to wake you.”  Gold kept his voice low, hoping not to rouse her further if she was still in the hazy place between sleep and waking.

Instead she opened her eyes, her expression soft, but alert, as she moved a little closer to him, their noses almost touching.  “You didn’t really wake me.”

“Good.”  Now that she was awake, he didn’t have to be so careful with his touches, and Gold took advantage of the freedom to work his fingers into her hair and massage the back of her neck.

Belle’s soft groan sent a pulse of delight through him.  “I bet I look like Medusa.”

“You haven’t turned me into stone yet.”  When his cock threatened to make a liar out of him, Gold sternly told his body to behave itself.

She yawned.  “What time is it?”

“I don’t know.  The sun’s up.”  He could see watery light filtering in around the drapes, but that could mean anything.  It could be early morning, late afternoon, or high noon on a gloomy winter day for all he knew.  

“I guess that means it’s still today.”  Belle’s eyebrows furrowed as she considered the issue.  “Unless it’s already tomorrow.”

Her nonsensical rambling made perfect sense to him.  “I doubt we slept more than twenty-four hours, so I’m reasonably sure it’s still today.”

Her contented sigh told him that she was willing to accept that on faith.  “Did I tell you that Jefferson won the election?”

“He did.”  Belle had attempted to tell him a number of things before he’d gotten her into bed, but she’d been so tired that little of it had been coherent.

“Oh good.”  With a sound that was almost a purr, she wrapped her arms around him, one hand slipping beneath the waistband of his boxers to stroke his lower back.

Gold gathered her closer, reveling in the feel of her soft curves pressed against him as he scattered kisses over the top of her head, breathing in the scent of her.  “You smell incredible.”

It was a silly thing to say, but Belle made a pleased noise at the compliment.  Her hand slipped lower to palm his behind, and she chuckled when he pressed his lips together to muffle a squawk of surprise.  “You feel incredible.”

“Belle…”  His voice quivered as he pleaded with her.

“Nachton…” she replied in kind, teasing him as she gave him a firm squeeze.

When his cock twitched, it was all Gold could do not to rub himself against her.  Instead, he ground his teeth and reached down to grab her wrist, hating himself for stopping her.  “We can’t.”

Startled blue eyes met his for an instant, then Belle pulled away, a flush coloring her cheeks.  “I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

With a desperate chuckle, Gold pulled her back into his arms.  She’d misunderstood him, and it was better that she know how little self control he had when it came to her than that she think, even for a single second, that her touch was unwanted.  

He pressed a kiss to the patch of skin just below her ear before he explained, “Jefferson and Grace are just down the hall.”

“Oh…”  From Belle’s tone, the mysteries of the universe had just been revealed to her.  

She reached up to tug gently on his hair, coaxing him to meet her amused eyes.  “We could lock the door.  I assume you have keys.”

“Of course.”  He wouldn’t possess a lock that he couldn’t secure.  

“If they wake up, they might not appreciate finding themselves locked in.”  If Grace’s room had an attached bathroom, it might not be as much of an issue, but even if that wasn’t a problem, they might wake up hungry and eager to raid the kitchen.

Belle snickered.  “I meant our door.”

Hearing her refer to the bedroom as theirs made his stomach flip over even as he felt a twinge of embarrassment at how he’d misunderstood her intentions.

Nothing would please him more than to lock the door and spend the next several hours— or days— lost in Belle’s arms, but that didn’t solve the immediate problem of Jefferson and Grace.  “What if they hear something?”

“I can be quiet.”  Belle trailed her fingers down his spine.  “Can you be quiet, Nachton?”

“I don’t know,” he answered honestly.  Even if he thought he could control himself, Gold wasn’t sure he wanted to put that belief to the test.  Just the thought of Belle’s brother overhearing him was enough to make his stomach writhe in anticipated humiliation.

Belle brushed her lips against his.  “If you’re not comfortable, that’s the end of the conversation.  We’re not going to do anything you don’t want to do.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” he tried to explain.

“I understand.”  She looked into his eyes before dropping another kiss on the tip of his nose, and the expression on her face assured him that she wasn’t the slightest bit offended by his reservations.

“But if we’re not going to fool around, I insist that you feed me.”  She affected a stern look and gave him a tap on the rear to get him moving.

Gold chuckled at her imperious tone.  “I watched your niece all night.  You should be feeding me.  I demand French toast.”

“You expect me to cook?  You’re living on the edge this morning, Nachton.”  Her eyes sparkled with amusement.

“I have complete faith in your abilities.  After all, you had an excellent teacher.”  Belle wasn’t incompetent in the kitchen, just impatient and a little clumsy.  More than anything, what held her back was her lack of belief in herself.

“Just think how impressed Jefferson and Grace will be when you present them with a gourmet breakfast,” he coaxed.

Belle pouted.  “Fine.  But if I burn anything, we tell them that you made it.”

“Deal.”  

Although he’d expected Belle to dress for the day, she instead selected a set of pajamas from the dresser, and she looked askance at him when he pulled out a pair of black trousers.  “Are you seriously going to wear a suit to hang out in your own kitchen?  It’s not like we’re going anywhere.”

“I…”  It went against every fiber of his being to be seen in less than a three piece suit, but Jefferson and Grace had already seen him in just his shirt and trousers with paint on his face.  They weren’t strangers or tenants; they were Belle’s family, and by extension, that made them his family as well.

“No, I suppose not.”  A sturdy set of pajamas wasn’t that much more revealing than a shirt and trousers, but he put his robe on anyway, mostly for his own peace of mind.  He didn’t need the extra warmth, especially when Belle nodded her approval.

Before they left the room, they paused to straighten the covers on the bed, the small domestic task making Gold’s spirit sing.  All of the little things he’d once done alone were now things he did with Belle, her presence filling up all of the empty spots in his life.

“What’s this?”  Belle looked down at the corner of the sheet she was attempting to smooth.

His face heated when he realized what she’d discovered.  “It’s nothing.”

“Looks like a knot,” she continued, holding it up so he could see before she started to untie it.

“Don’t do that.”

She dropped the sheet when he blurted the words, a quizzical look on her face, and he realized that he had to explain.  “It’s something my aunties taught me.  Tie a knot in the corner of the sheet for luck.”

Her face softened, not displaying a trace of amusement at his foolishness.  “That’s sweet.  Do you do it every time you change the sheets or just when you feel like you need some extra luck?”

Since Belle had her own superstitions, Gold wasn’t sure why he’d been so afraid that she would laugh at him.  Then again, he had a suspicion that she’d insisted certain things were lucky or unlucky not so much because she believed in her own words, but because she was determined to get her own way.  

Being that one of the things she’d been determined to get her own way on was ensuring he kissed her at midnight on New Year’s Eve for good luck, he was more than content to let her win.

“Just when I want some extra luck,” he admitted, “For instance, my first time watching Grace.  I don’t believe in luck, but… it can’t hurt.”

“Oh, Nachton, I love you.”  Belle left the sheet in a heap to embrace him.

He wasn’t sure what he’d done to provoke that declaration, but whatever it was, Gold was glad he did it.  “I love you too.”

“You didn’t need luck though.  Grace thinks you’re great,” Belle informed him as she released him and led the way to the door.

Just before she opened it, she cast him a mischievous look over her shoulder.  “And we both know you’re going to get lucky today.”

Despite the terrible pun, the promise in her words made him catch his breath, and Gold was relieved to see that the door to Grace’s bedroom was still closed.  At the moment he felt a little too… flushed to interact with Belle’s brother and niece.

He was so distracted that he nearly bowled Belle over when she suddenly stopped in the middle of the kitchen.  Catching himself before he knocked her down, he followed her gaze to the naked Barbie doll reclining next to the sink.  

Belle looked from the doll to him and back.  “Did I miss something?”

If he explained that he’d fixed the doll after Grace got gum in its hair, Belle would probably praise him for his cleverness, but telling the truth felt a bit like tattling on the little girl.  “Grace and I decided that her hair needed washed.”

“So you played Barbie spa,” Belle smiled up at him.  “I’m sorry I missed that.”

“Hair styling is only one of my many talents.”  He slipped his hand under her pajama top to tickle her waist.

Belle bumped him with her hip in response.  “I’ve been very impressed with your talents.”

He choked a little, marveling at her ability to make any topic of conversation sound suggestive.  Perhaps he shouldn’t have been so squeamish about making love while Jefferson and Grace were in the house.  The bedroom door did have a lock, as Belle had so astutely observed.

It was too late to change his mind now unless they barricaded themselves in his office, and the thought of making love in front of Archimedes was only slightly less off-putting than the thought of doing so while her brother and niece were just down the hall.  Reluctantly, Gold pushed his lustful thoughts to the back of his mind and concentrated on finding the ingredients for French toast.

Belle’s movements were competent as she started to assemble the dish, but Gold opted to help anyway, simply for the pleasure of putting his arms around her as they worked together to crack eggs and whisk everything together.  He nuzzled at her throat, making her giggle as she dipped each slice of bread.  “You’re not helping,” she scolded.

“I’m very helpful,” he contradicted as he caught her earlobe between his teeth.

When she wiggled her hips against him, he swallowed a groan, feeling a sudden impulse to bend her over the counter and plunge into her from behind.  Disquieted by the aggressive thought, he pulled away to start frying slices of bread as Belle finished dipping them.

Belle gave him a quizzical look that transformed into one of understanding when they heard the sound of footsteps on the stairs.  “You have good ears,” she murmured.

Better she think he’d heard their guests stirring than that she know he’d been tempted to assault her.  Taking a deep breath, Gold allowed himself to dismiss the incident.  The impulse was his father’s bad influence rearing its head, but he’d triumphed over it.  Although he’d been tempted, he hadn’t acted on the impulse, and that meant that he was nothing like Malcolm Gold.

“Are you cooking?” Jefferson asked in disbelief as he shuffled into the kitchen, his clothes rumpled and hair standing on end.

“Aunt Belle can’t cook,” Grace reminded him as she squeezed around Jefferson to enter the room, her eyes going wide at the sight of her aunt neatly dipping slices of bread into the French toast mixture.

“If I can’t cook, obviously this is a dream, so neither of you are going to get any.”  Belle stuck her tongue out at the new arrivals.

Grace bounded over to see what was on the menu.  “It looks good!  Hi, Uncle Gold.”

He nodded at the naked Barbie.  “Morning, Gracie.  Your doll is going to get cold.”

The dress had dried over night, so Grace set to work clothing her Barbie doll as Jefferson settled in to poke fun at Belle.  “If you’re cooking it, I might not want any.”

He turned his attention to Gold.  “And you own pajamas?  I assumed you slept in a suit.”

“Keep it up, and you can go to PTA meetings by yourself from now on,” Belle threatened.

Grace lifted her head at the reminder of what her family members had been doing the previous night.  “Did you have fun at the meeting?  Did you win?”

Jefferson ruffled his daughter’s hair.  “Yes, we won the meeting.”

He launched into the story as they tucked into breakfast, liberally embroidering the truth for Grace’s benefit.  In his telling, the former president, Mrs. Tremaine, became an evil sorceress, her PTA minions recast as goblins.  Based on what Gold knew about that portion of Storybrooke society, it wasn’t much of an exaggeration.

Although he was reasonably sure that Jefferson hadn’t brought an actual sword to the meeting, Gold wasn’t willing to dismiss the notion out of hand.  He was slightly more certain that Belle hadn’t wielded a magic wand to turn anyone into a toad, but Grace certainly liked the idea.  For his part, Gold was able to read between the lines to see how they’d outsmarted and outmaneuvered the former president, confirming his suspicion that most of Jefferson’s apparent insanity was an act.

“And then they crowned me their president and high king,” Jefferson concluded with a flourish to wild applause from Grace.

“Does Aunt Belle get to be queen?” the child asked.

“Aunt Belle has the honor of being the royal advisor.”  Jefferson grinned at his sister.  

Belle sighed.  “At least it’s not court jester.”

“What about you?  Did you have fun last night, crumpet?”

To Gold’s relief, Grace nodded eagerly.  “I played Barbies, and Uncle Gold taught me to play cards, and we watched Moana.”

Gold filed away the movie’s title, hiding a smile when he realized Grace wasn’t going to admit to the gum incident either.  It would be their secret.

The four of them chatted until Jefferson stretched and scratched his head.  “I itch.”

“Go home and take a shower,” Belle advised as Gold started to gather the breakfast dishes.

Jefferson pulled a face.  “You’re bossy.”

“No, I’m not.  I just know what you should be doing,” Belle countered.

“Can I stay and play?”  

“No, but you can come back soon.  You need to go home and have a bath.  You’re a stinkbug.”  Jefferson pretended to sniff his daughter and made a disgusted noise.

The little girl’s mouth fell open in outrage.  “I am not a stinkbug!”

“Stinkbug… stinkbug…” Jefferson taunted in a sing-song voice as he tickled her until she screamed with laughter.

It took another hour for Jefferson and Grace to finally leave the Victorian to return to their own home, a delay that didn’t bother Gold in the slightest.  The house had been empty for so long that it was pleasant to hear the walls ring with laughter and cheerful conversation.  He was almost tempted to call Jefferson’s bluff of wanting a bedroom of his own, complete with a toy train.

Belle closed the kitchen door once she’d waved her niece and brother off and turned to him with a wicked smile.  “Are you ready to get lucky?  Or did you have other plans for the afternoon?”

On second thought, perhaps he shouldn’t encourage Jefferson to spend more time here than necessary.

He had to clear his throat twice before he was able to speak.  “I had no plans.”

She took his hand to lead him upstairs.  “Good, because I plan to blow your mind.  After your marathon Grace-sitting session, you’ve earned some serious spoiling.”

Her voice lowered as they climbed the stairs.  “The only thing that got me through that meeting was thinking about how I was going to make it up to you.”

Although his body was eager to find out what Belle meant by spoiling him, Gold’s mind was less sanguine about her sultry promise.  Something about her words didn’t sit quite right with him, but he couldn’t figure out what was bothering him until Belle pushed him down to sit on the edge of bed before lowering herself to her knees in front of him, her intentions obvious.

He caught hold of her shoulder.  “Stop.”

Her hands had been resting on his knees, and she withdrew them at once.  “Is something wrong?”

“You don’t owe me sex.  I don’t expect payment for helping you… for watching Grace.  That’s not… I don’t…”  He stumbled over his own words, not sure how to explain something he didn’t entirely understand himself.

“You don’t have to ‘make it up’ to me.  I don’t want this because you think you owe it to me, not as payment.”  Belle had changed his mind about many things, but on one matter, he was resolute.  Sex should be an act of love, not a game or a hobby or— worse— a form of currency.  The very notion revolted him.

“Oh, Nachton.”  Belle reached up to cradle the side of his face.  

He leaned into her touch, needing the comfort even though he was the one making a fuss.  

With a tremulous smile, she swept her thumb over his lips.  “Sweetheart, I’m sorry.  I was teasing you.  I didn’t seriously mean that I was going to pay you for babysitting with sex.  I know you don’t think like that.  I should’ve realized it would upset you.”

He turned his face into her palm to kiss it, relieved that he’d misunderstood her.  “You couldn’t have known.  I didn’t know it bothered me until you said it.”

“Well, now we know, and I’ll be more careful,” Belle said in a practical tone.

“Now we know,” he agreed, surprised by how easy the issue had been to resolve.

Belle sat back on her heels.  “So, to be clear, I was planning to go to bed with you because I always want to go to bed with you.  And the best parts of that PTA meeting were when I stopped paying attention and daydreamed about what I was going to do to you the next time I got you naked.”

She wasn’t even touching him, but the promise in her words was enough to stir him to attention.  “What… what were you thinking of doing?”

“I did think about going down on you until you screamed…”  Biting her lip, she gave his lap a regretful look.  “Maybe we should save that for later though.”

Feeling her mouth on him was heavenly, but with their misunderstanding still fresh in his mind, Gold didn’t think he could relax enough to enjoy a one-sided sexual encounter.  “I agree.  Did you have any other ideas?”

The dry look she gave him assured Gold that he’d asked a stupid question.  “Lots of them.  I also thought about opening your Valentine’s Day present at random and trying out whatever page we landed on.”

That notion piqued his interest.  Several of the illustrations required more flexibility than he possessed, but now that he was slightly more confident, the idea of experimenting was more enticing than intimidating.  If they landed on a page that was beyond his capabilities, they’d just turn to the next.  “I like that idea.”

Belle’s eyes lit up at his agreement, and she moved to retrieve the book from his nightstand as he doffed his robe, suddenly glad neither of them had bothered to dress for the day.  

Once she had the book, Belle snuggled in next to him and started to flip through the pages.  “Tell me when to stop.”

Gold hesitated, feeling the weight of the decision hanging on him before he threw caution to the wind.  “Stop.”

He held his breath as Belle opened the book to the page he’d indicated, revealing a couple entwined in a T-shape.  The man was on his side with the woman on her back, her legs draped over his hip to obscure where their bodies joined.

“I can do that.”  He didn’t realize he’d said the words out loud until Belle looked up at him through her eyelashes.

“Were you worried?”

“A bit.”  She was already aware of his physical limitations, but it was still a relief not to have to pass on the very first round of their new game.

“I’m not going to let anything bad happen to you,” she assured him.

Her promise was so sweet that he had to kiss her, free to touch and please to his heart’s content now that they’d regained their privacy.  Over the years, Gold had grown accustomed to suppressing any flare of desire he felt, and he was surprised by how good it felt to release his grip on his self control and let his primal instincts take over.

It had been only two days since he last made love to Belle, but it felt like it had been two centuries, and it was all he could do not to tear at her pajama top in his haste to get it off of her.  Fortunately, Belle seemed to be as hungry for him as he was for her, and her clever fingers made short work of the clothing that separated them, his bare skin glorying in the feel of hers.

As he buried his face against her breasts, Belle made a soft, demanding noise that sent a jolt through him.  After years of loneliness, it was a heady sensation to be so fiercely desired.  Belle wanted him, and he wanted to give her everything.  

He was tempted to roll her on top of him so she could take what she wanted from his body, but at the last moment, Gold remembered they were playing a game.  When Belle parted her legs to cradle him, he eased her away, kissing her delectable pout.  

“This was your idea,” he teased her softly when she tried to pull him back down on top of her.

“Stupid game,” she groused, but she cooperated eagerly when he moved onto his side to mimic the book’s illustration.

Belle’s brow furrowed as she adjusted her own position, trying to get them lined up.  Gold hissed when she reached down to wrap her hand around him, his hips bucking instinctively in a way that made him slide against her without entering her, the angle not quite right.

“Sorry,” he muttered as Belle grunted softly.

“Right… there…”  She made a guttural noise when he thrust forward again, this time finding his way.

One of his arms was trapped beneath his body, but his other arm was free to caress Belle everywhere he could reach.  He thrust into her in shallow strokes, the new angle making him fear hurting her if he went any deeper.  Belle was teasing his nipples, her position making it difficult for her to reach anything except his chest, and when she tried to tug him down for a kiss, she made a noise of frustration when they couldn’t bring their lips together.

“This is kind of…”  She squirmed against him, the fluttering of her channel making him see stars.

“Awkward?” he asked breathlessly.  Although she felt glorious around him, Gold was greedy enough to want to feel every bit of her pressed against him.

“I was going to say ‘stupid’.”  

When he snorted a laugh, she looked at him with a guilty expression.  “I’m sorry, Nachton.  You’re not doing anything wrong.  You feel good in me.  I just… This position isn’t really working for me.”

“Then let’s try something else,” he suggested.  Belle was looking at him like she expected him to take offense at her critique, but as far as he was concerned, it was the book that was at fault.  

“Good idea.”

Gold groaned when Belle pulled away from him, but she only moved to lie on her side next to him, her breasts against his chest.  Draping one leg over his hip, she reached down to guide him in, and he groaned again as she welcomed him home.

“Much… better…”  Belle moaned as she rocked against him.

He rumbled his agreement as he bent his head to claim her mouth.  From this point forward, he would veto any position that didn’t allow him to kiss her.  

Lying on his side, his movements were still slightly awkward, but it didn’t seem to matter that he couldn’t thrust too quickly or deeply.  Belle was rocking her hips, her hands stroking every inch of his body, and she was sighing in delight as they moved together.  When they started, his desire for her had been urgent, but now that he was buried in her, he felt relaxed and content, his body satisfied simply to be so close to her as they maintained their gentle pace.

Even when his climax came, it was peaceful.  Gold gazed into Belle’s eyes as he found his release, feeling as though her soul was caressing his.  They were one in a way that went beyond the physical, and when she gasped and shuddered, he felt her pleasure as clearly as if it were his own.

Once it was over, Belle made no effort to move.  Instead, she snuggled closer yet, holding him within her body.  “I guess my game didn’t work very well.”

“I don’t know…”  Gold trailed his hand down her back.  “I think we won.”

“We cheated,” she reminded him as she gave him a gentle squeeze with her inner muscles that nearly made him forget what they were talking about.  

“That’s part of the fun.”  What was the point of playing a game if you weren’t going to try to win at all costs?

“Are you saying you wouldn’t mind playing again?”  Belle lifted her head, trying to keep her expression serious, but her dimples were showing.

Gold let out a long-suffering sigh.  “Give me fifteen minutes, you insatiable minx.”

If she kept squeezing him like that, he wouldn’t need half that time, but there was no need for her to know that.

Belle snickered.  “Oh please.  You’ll be ready for another round before I am.  You’re a sexual Tyrannosaurus.”

It was a ridiculous compliment, but it still made Gold’s chest swell with pride.  

“Rawr,” he said with as much dignity as he could muster before he flipped Belle onto her back to growl against her throat as she squealed and batted at him.