#quarterholstein

She yelled. Loudly. "What the hell is wrong with you? Never do that again!"

Gold look genuinely confused as the yelling continued, became nearly hysterical and increased in volume. Finally he grasped her shoulders. "BELLE!!!!"

She stopped as abruptly as she'd started. Her eyes trailed from his shoulders to the top of the towel hanging loosely around his waist and snapped up to see a grin spread across his face. She flushed again. "Sorry. Why on earth would you scream like that?"

Gold shook his head. "I didn't."

"I heard you scream. I'm sure of it." She mumbled under her breath and Gold raised an eyebrow. Belle sighed. "I'm not hearing things, dammit." 

Gold actually chuckled. "Nor am I Ms. French."

She sighed. "Maybe you have a poltergeist  or something."

"So let me see if I understand this." Gold was clearly irritated. "You believe in spirits. Malovelent spirits capable of interacting with humans, in fact, but the Netherealm and an angry Native American god is beyond you? Really?"

Belle paused. "Well it sounds stupid when you say it like that."

He laughed again. "Ms. French?"

"Belle."

He nodded. "Belle. Perhaps we can both get dressed and continue this conversation in the library?"

She had completely forgotten his state of undress. The fact that she was only wearing a t-shirt had escaped her entirely. She blushed. "Yes. Of course. I'm sorry I burst in. I did call to you but you didn't say anything."

"I heard nothing. Where were you?" 

She motioned to the bathroom door. "Just outside."

Gold winked and then walked past her into his bedroom. "We have a matchmaker poltergeist apparently."

Belle had no idea how to respond. What did he mean by that? Was he insinuating that perhaps they could be ...she stopped that train of thought. This was a business arrangement. They tolerated one another and that was it. The fact that she had only now realized how exceptionally attractive he was made no difference. She was a tenant. And for six more days, a witness. Nothing more would come out of this. And why was she thinking about it at all? Try as she might, however, the image of him standing there, soaking wet, butt-ass naked was seared into her brain. She couldn't unsee it. In the end she chose the safe, easy route. She ignored it. "I'll meet you downstairs in ten?"

"Ten. I'll make you a drink."

She flashed him a genuine smile as she walked out the door. "Make several. Better make them doubles."

She was curled up on the couch with the book on Native American legend she'd started the day before, when all the hair on her neck stood up and began slowly marching down her spine. Belle closed the book slowly, allowing it to snap shut so that whomever was behind her would hear it. She stood quickly, turning around and ...nothing. "Andrew?"

He didn't answer because he wasn't there.  There was no one there. Belle shook her head. She could have sworn someone was watching her. Presumably Andrew Gold, as he was the only other person in the house. 

Belle sighed. His skittishness was beginning to get to her. She knew she had to fight her tendency to empathize with everyone but it was proving harder than she'd anticipated.  Andrew Gold was not who she'd thought. In fact, he was so far removed from the person she had believed she'd known it left her slightly off balance. She found him intelligent and surprisingly witty, but there was a vulnerability to him she had not expected. Something underneath the rough exterior she could not quite put a finger on. She was surprised to find that she wanted to know more. This man, who believed in bad luck and nether realms, intrigued her.

When she realized she was still standing, staring at the doorway she gave up. There was no point trying to read now. It was just as well, she needed to shower and get some sleep. Even though she had taken a week of vacation, as Andrew insisted she be there 24/7, it was never a good idea to change her sleeping schedule. She had stayed up far too late reading the night before as it was. 

She walked through the house with more trepidation than she'd had since she'd been there. It was silly, and yet she could not shake the feeling that someone was looking at her. The feeling was so strong she stopped several times on the way to her room to glance behind her. 

Each time it felt closer, as if something was stalking her and she had to force herself to walk. She wanted to run. To get away from eyes that were burning a hole in the back of her head. Somehow she felt like her room was safe.

When she felt a breath on her neck she gave up all pretenses and bolted. Her room. She would be safe in her room. She ran inside and slammed the door shut, nearly coming out of her skin when a solid 'thump' hit the wall. "Andrew?"

No answer.

She took several deep breaths and rolled her eyes. She felt beyond stupid now that her skin had stopped trying to crawl away.  Clearly she needed sleep more than she realized.

***

Belle hummed softly as she stood under scalding water.  She could feel the tension burning away. 

By the time she got out she had managed to push the incident to the back of her mind. It was nothing. Andrew's nerves were affecting her. It was power of suggestion, nothing more. She had almost convinced herself to get dressed and go back downstairs when a blood-curtling scream rent the air. 

Belle threw open her door and ran down the hallway to Gold's room. She gave no thought to his privacy, throwing open the door and calling out to him.

"Andrew?"

No answer.

"ANDREW?"

Still nothing.

Images of his bloody, mangled body lying on the floor flashed through her mind. She rushed into the bathroom and collided with something hard ...and wet.