In Storybrooke, Mr. Gold strives to be the man Bae used to love--until Belle is kidnapped to Neverland. If he resumes his Dark One powers to save her, can he control them? In the Enchanted Forest, Emma battles ogres, zombies and her ex to get back h...
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Mr. Gold (Rumplestiltskin): Be careful. Emotional entanglements can lead us down very dangerous paths (Fruit of the Poisonous Tree).
Belle stared at her half-eaten hamburger, weighing the pleasure of taking another bite against the tightness in the waistband of her plaid wool skirt. When the plank floor creaked, she looked up to see Ruby zipping her puffy red jacket as she strolled toward her and Rumple. Surveying the dining tent, Belle realized the three concessions had closed and most of the customers had gone.
Ruby pulled her chestnut hair out of her jacket and draped it over her shoulders. "I'm off to August's party. He asked me to tell Mr. Gold his dad baked him some Brutti ma Buoni."
Rumple smiled at Belle. "Italian almond cookies. The recipe is an implanted memory but quite delicious."
August's dad. He was that nice old man Geppetto she'd met earlier. Before Belle could respond, Ruby continued.
"August also said he hopes that makes up for not having that other appetizer." She raised her dark eyebrows, clearly clueless about the message she was about to deliver. "The one he promised you in the sheriff's station? He said you'd know—"
"That young man does like dancing on the edge." Chuckling, Rumple shook his head. "Tell August, I live by his discretion. And tell him—" he paused, as if making sure Ruby was paying attention "—so does he."
Looking more perplexed than before, Ruby hitched her saddlebag purse higher on her shoulder. "Ohhh-kay." She turned then peered back at them. "See you."
"Later." Belle looked at Rumple. You were joking, weren't you?
Answering the question she knew was in her eyes, Rumple reached out for her. "I don't know what August expects from my presence, but I promised I'd come. Perhaps I'm the entertainment—a chance for his friends to see whether the scary stories are true. August had heard the one about me eating firstborn—"
"Oh, Rumple. Nobody believes—"
"Maybe not. But someone is bound to recall some dark tale not so easily belied." He patted her hand. "No matter. If I'm cornered, you'll rescue me."
Belle tried to smile. "It took me some time to get to know you."
Rumple's concentration switched to something beyond Belle's shoulder, and the tenderness vanished from his face. Then she caught a click, click, click that made her stomach twist. The Evil Queen. In the Enchanted Forest, the sound of her high heels had warned Belle of an impending slap, tirade, or boast about some petty triumph over Rumplestiltskin. In Storybrooke, Regina had been content to lift the flap on the door to her psych ward cell and gloat. Since both the woman and her malice had been mysteries, those visits had tormented her more.
When her former captor stopped, towering over them, Belle shuddered.
