Belle could tell when her lover was in a bad mood. To be fair, anyone with a pair of eyes or ears could tell when Rumplestiltskin was in a bad mood. He would curse and grumble and break things. Even though he was less dangerous in this new human form, where he couldn't turn anyone into a slug or rose, he was still not a man to be trifled with when in a mood.

At least that was true for everyone else. But it was Belle's job, at least in her own mind, to get right in the face of the angry bull and do her best to calm him down. Usually tea and cuddling would be enough to get him out of a snit. Sometimes she needed to resort to kisses and caresses. But this was an extraordinary situation. The walls were closing in and Belle could tell he was on the edge of doing something reckless. She needed to pull him from the edge.

Luckily she had found the dress in the attic. It still fit even if she'd had trouble finding the proper under garments to wear with it. It wasn't perfect. Her new hairstyle was too short and she had forgotten how to walk in a corset. But it would do for the plan.

Belle knocked on his office door. "What now?" he yelled. She didn't need to fain nervousness as she opened the door, and it helped give her performance the right tone.

His head quirked to the left as he took in her costume, the same gold dress he had first seen her in so many years earlier when he had asked for her to join him. "Belle?"

"You know my name? I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. You are the most powerful wizard in all the lands."

He took off his glasses and pinched his nose. "Belle, I don't know what this is…"

"I had nowhere else to go. You see, I find myself in a rather desperate situation and I need your help."

"Dearest, it is a nice thought, but I'm not in the mood for a game."

Belle kneeled before him, resting her chin on his good knee. "No games. But how about a deal?"

He reached out to stroke her hair. "A deal? Why would a Princess as lovely as you need to come to me for a deal?"

"My lands are threatened by war and you're the only one who can stop them." She gazed up at him, her blue eyes shining beneath her long eyelashes. Her expression was one of a supplicant begging for mercy, but those eyes gave away the game. They had not had time for play. When they'd first reunited it had been desperation and longing. Then came the battles and each time together was a solemn celebration of another day not being killed in this crazy world where guns and magic co-existed.

He played along. "I can save your people. It is well within my power. But I worry you can't pay the price. After all, the payment for a new dress and some shoes is a child. It would be far greater for what you are asking."

Belle started running her small hands along his leg, starting at his ankle and slowly moving up. "We could offer gold."

"My dear, I turn straw into gold."

"In that case, we could offer you straw."

He couldn't help but break character and chuckle at that. He covered the laugh with a cough and went back to being menacing. "No, I need something far more precious."

"Well, all I have to offer is myself. Would I be payment enough?"

In his centuries of existence Rumpelstiltskin had made hundreds, possibly thousands, of deals. He always ended up on the best side of them naturally. But by far the single greatest deal he ever made was the one for her. Would she be payment enough? Even if the offer was for the moon, the stars, the heavens and the seas, this woman would far outweigh them all. One time she had given her service to him in exchange for the lives of everyone she loved. But she had given her heart to him asking for nothing in return. It was unconditional love. He knew that now. He had assumed that by casting Belle out he was freeing her to give up on her feelings for him. He thought that the cruelty would end up as a kindness when she found someone better and more worthy of her devotion. But she never wavered.

"I love you," he said, not caring that he was ruining her carefully constructed illusion. He needed to say it. The words hardly seemed enough to express what he felt for her. They were too common. People called it love when they enjoyed a song or a meal. This was more than that. This was something beyond the world where words could touch.

"I love you too," she said in return. Her hands had made it to his thighs now, and continued to slowly climb upwards. "Do you want me to continue?"

"I don't deserve you."

"No, but you have me all the same." She composed her features into the coy expression of a maiden, even as her hands were doing very un-maidenly things towards his obviously aroused body. "And I believe we were in the middle of a negotiation."

If she wanted to play then he could certainly grant her the game. He sat up straight and tapped his hand on his thigh, inviting her to sit on his lap. It was awkward, ballgowns were not designed for comfort or for perching on the laps of men, but it wouldn't be in the spirit of the game to ask her to strip out of it just yet. So they eventually find some type of balance.

He forced his voice a little higher, into the impish range he had held in the old world. "So, dearie, you're offering your services to me. I could use someone to clean the gutters on the castle."

She pouted, her nose wrinkling. "I don't favor heights. Or gutters. Maybe you could use a caretaker for your estate?"

He considered it for a moment before shaking his head. "A clean castle wouldn't quite do with my reputation for evil. And I can prepare my own meals with a little bit of magic. No, I don't really need a caretaker at all."

This time it was Belle who broke from their teasing. "Why did you bargain for me?"

"I'm not done with the bargaining."

"Seriously," she pleaded, "I always wondered why you selected me. You could have had anyone in the realms. I know there are women more beautiful than I am, and there are certainly ones who are less troublesome. Why me?"

Since fate, and the hatter, had delivered Belle back to him he had never lied to her. He wasn't always completely honest, but if he couldn't tell her the truth he would simply refuse to answer. His lies over not wanting her had ruined them a lifetime ago. But on this matter he would have to offer a fib. The truth wouldn't do. How exactly could he explain that his motives were far from pure when he took her? That if he had read his own fine print better he wouldn't have taken her at all, instead probably opting to ask for the idiot Gaston since a warrior knight was a better commodity than a bookish Princess.

The problem was one of translation. He had intended on the sacrifice needed to bring about the curse to be the heart of a thing most beloved. Something precious that was above trade. Why would he have had it say the heart of the thing he loved most? He loved nothing after all. So, when Maurice would not trade his daughter, even though it was signing his own death warrant, he had thought he found the sacrifice. She was a thing most loved by someone, and her heart could bring about the curse that would return him to his son.

It wasn't until he was rechecking the curse that night when she was locked in the dungeon that he recognized the error. But it was too late, and so instead of killing her he made the best of the situation and let her clean the house. The irony was not lost on him. He had intended to cut her heart out, and instead he had given her his own.

But she didn't need to know that. Not now, when she was perched so seductively on his lap and looking at him with devotion. That particular dark stain would remain his to spend the rest of their lives trying to atone.

"Why did I want you?" he repeated her question. "How could I not? They say that opposites attract, and you were my opposite in every way. The myths looked superficially and said you were the beauty to the beast. But you were more than that. You were brave. You were fearless in the face of an impossible choice. I am a coward. I will always be a coward, and so maybe I wanted you for that bravery. To hope that you could show me the things my soul lacked."

Belle's eyes were watery, but her smile was glorious. In that moment, Rumplestiltskin realized they had a new beginning. She had dressed and preened to give him the chance to relive that first meeting. This time, he would do things the right way.

"We were in the middle of our negotiation," he cackled, "Do you want to hear my offer?" Belle nodded, taking a moment to wipe her eyes.

"I do not need a caretaker," he said. "I don't need someone to fetch me tea and keep me company. I don't need a lover. I have gone long enough on my own to survive an empty bed. What I need, dear Belle, is a wife. I need someone to bind themselves to me for the rest of our days. To take the broken pieces of my soul and to make me complete."

Their kiss was swift, and hungry. And he tried to show her without words all the things that she needed to know. Marriage was a terrible idea. A war was coming and he wasn't sure that he could protect her. But as his live in lover plenty of people would overlook her. They assumed she was just a foolish girl who he was using. If they knew the depth of his feelings they would know that she was his only weakness. A ring on her finger might as well be a target on her back.

He'd cast her out once to try and save her. The only thing that had happened was they were both miserable. So, this time, he would keep her. He'd make his vows, before the Gods and anyone else in earshot, to love, honor, and cherish her until the end of time. 'Til Death would not be strong enough, for he'd lived through her death and his love continued on.

"Marry me, Belle," he pleaded, as he continued to kiss down her neck and towards the beautiful cleveage of the gown. "Name any price and I will give it. Just please, please, be my wife."

Her hands fell to either side of his face, stilling his desperate movement. She gave a single soft and sweet kiss to his lips before moving to his ears.

"Yes," she whispered.

The deal was struck.