A particularly stubborn fingerprint smudge on the doorknob was driving Belle to near madness. She had scrubbed every other inch of Mr. Gold's house and, finding nothing else in dire need of cleaning, had set her sights on the smaller, more inconspicuous places that would normally be overlooked. Occasionally she glanced at her watch and, heart jolting as the second hand slowly neared a quarter after five, focused on her task at hand.

She'd barely even noticed when rain had started pouring outside, so absorbed was she in rubbing the smudges off the front door handle. Irritated, knowing that her anxiety had little to do with the doorknob itself, she had stormed off to the area of the kitchen where Mr. Gold stored his cleaning supplies. Snatching a brass polisher and dry wash rag, she then marched back to the door and began a thorough rubdown of the offending metal.

Without warning the door flung open and into Belle's face. She stumbled backwards, dropping the rag and immediately bringing her hands to her now-watering eye where the doorknob had struck.

"Belle! Are you alright?" She could feel Mr. Gold's hands on her, stroking the hair from her face and tilting her chin with his fingers so that he could get a better view of her face. "Move your hand, let me see." Belle complied, letting her hands fall to her lap as she stared up into her employer's face, humiliated. His eyes raked across her face and with his index finger he poked gently at the bridge of her nose and the delicate bones of her eye socket. When the action didn't illicit a howl of pain, he pulled himself back to his feet and offered Belle his hands. "You'll probably end up sporting a black eye but I don't think you're seriously hurt. What were you doing?"

A lump caught in Belle's throat. Should today be the day she finally told Mr. Gold why she had lingered in his home after her cleaning tasks had long since been completed? Would today be the day she finally told him what she knew she could never find the courage to say?

"I was cleaning the doorknob," she muttered, lowering her eyes so that she couldn't see the expression of amusement that would warm her heart and bring about that bittersweet pang of longing.

"The day I hired you as a maid was the day my house became spotless, my dear," Mr. Gold trilled as he bent to pick up his discarded briefcase and shut the door behind him. "But really, you don't have to worry yourself with small things like that. It's no wonder you are always still here when I get home if you are bending over backwards to clean everything in sight."

Belle laughed throatily, her face still burning with embarrassment. "If you'd rather I leave before you get home, I can," she said with as much indifference as she could muster.

"Of course I don't want you gone, Belle. Take as long as you need. If anything maybe I should consider giving you a raise, especially if you plan on taking black eyes in the line of duty." Mr. Gold ducked his head down until Belle glanced up at his eyes, his goofy expression pulling a true laugh out of her. He joined in, and soon the good-natured sound of his voice set her belly to fluttering. She watched quietly as he removed his coat and hung it on the rack by the door, admiring yet again the grace with which he always moved.

"Oh, yes. Before I forget. I have a guest coming to stay for the weekend, so I won't need you to clean the house while she's here." The sheepish grin on Mr. Gold's face was meant to show Belle that he was not trying to be rude, she knew, but the words gutted her with unexpected ferocity.

"A guest?" she managed to choke out, amazed that she sounded much, very much calmer than she truly felt.

"Yes, she will be staying here for a few days."

Had Mr. Gold not chosen that moment to walk past Belle and into the kitchen, he would have gotten a glimpse of the abject horror that spread across her face. She braced herself—hand to door—and placed the other hand on her belly, taking the moments away from his line of vision in an attempt to pull herself back into a more seemly composure. Taking a deep breath, her voice slightly deadened, all she could bring herself to say was, "that sounds lovely."

"Yes, we haven't seen each other in about a year now. Every time she comes to town she stays here so we can… Well, I guess 'catch up' would be the appropriate phrase, considering how little talking is done while she's in town." He sniggered to himself, setting his briefcase on the bar counter before turning to rummage in the fridge. When he'd emerged sporting a diet Coke, he noticed Belle still standing by the front door. "Are you alright, dear?"

"Yes, I'm fine," she said in an unrealistically cheerful tone. "I'm…" Belle's voice trailed off, her mind completely blank.

"Well before you go, I have a question to ask you, if you don't mind."

Belle shook her head weakly, wishing more than anything to leave before her tears threatened to fall.

"I was—" what Mr. Gold was he did not say, as at that moment his cell phone went off. "I'm sorry Belle, can you hold on a minute?" He raised a finger and grinned apologetically before sliding the answer icon across the screen. "Hello, Sam."

A ball of lead dropped into Belle's stomach.

"Yes, I'll be heading to Logan airport in a half hour or so to get you." Mr. Gold absentmindedly wandered out of the kitchen and past the stairwell as he spoke, disappearing out of sight into the formal dining room. His words still reached Belle's sickened ears. "I've missed you, too." There was a rather long pause, followed by Mr. Gold's crooked laughter. "Did you really think new lingerie all that necessary, dear? It's not like you'll do much sleeping in it."

Belle couldn't take anymore. Not caring that he had asked her to stay, Belle felt her hands grasping for the doorknob. The brass was still slippery from the cleaning agent she had used only minutes ago, and when the sounds of Mr. Gold's laughter assailed her ears once more Belle scrambled desperately to get the knob to turn. Once the door opened she flung herself out onto the porch and ran down the stairs, a sob bursting out of her mouth as she fled across the muddy grass. Rain beat relentlessly upon her but she did not care, too preoccupied with the tormenting thoughts rushing through her mind.

For months Belle had spent her every waking moment thinking about Mr. Gold, analyzing his smiles and picking apart his words to see if maybe, by some small miracle, he had felt for her the same way she felt for him. Only now as she ran aimlessly down the road did she realize how childish her hopes were. He was her employer—she merely cleaned his house, holding as much an importance to him as any other acquaintance. Why had she not guessed that he might already have someone else filling the place in his life she'd hoped so badly to have for herself?

Someone behind her yelled faintly but Belle did not stop. The tears and anguish held control over her being, and she obeyed without question their impetuous urges to run as far as she could from the pain. Her drenched clothing clung to her body and weighed her down, but she did not slow her pace. Only when a pair of lights lit up the road from behind her did Belle finally slow, veering towards the edge of the woods to avoid being run over.

The sound of a car door opening behind Belle startled her. Confused, half-delirious, she stopped walking and turned around. Mr. Gold was rushing towards her as fast as he could with his cane, his Cadillac idling in the middle of the road. She barely had time to notice that his front door had been left ajar and to mourn the fate of the beautiful interior before he had caught up with her and dropped his cane to the ground, his hands gripping tightly to her upper arms.

"Belle, what's going on? Why did you run out of the house like that?"

She gazed into his face, aware as she did so that the rain flattening Mr. Gold's hair to his head only enhanced the ache gripping her heart. "I couldn't listen anymore," she admitted in a whisper. That the truth came out so easily after so long being hidden in the depths of her fantasies did not surprise Belle. She felt the gentle relief of numbness beginning to permeate the anguish.

"Listen to what? Me?" Belle nodded faintly, taking in the utter bewilderment that exaggerated the wrinkles around his eyes. Then his expression softened and he took a step towards her, his voice gentle. "Do you mean Sam?"

Fresh tears sprung to Belle's eyes and she closed them rather than confront the pain of looking directly at Mr. Gold's face. "I'm glad you're happy," were the words that slipped out of her mouth, unthinkingly. She could think of nothing else to say.

"Belle," Mr. Gold murmured, his voice warm and patient. She felt his finger cusp her chin and lift it upwards, though her eyes remained closed. "Look at me." Afraid that her heart was about to break further, Belle did as he bade. Her eyes found his and she was perplexed at his ardent gaze. When again he spoke his voice wavered and he seemed to be struggling to suppress a grin. "Samantha is my sister."

The words hit Belle like a brick wall. She teetered where she stood, her knees weakening as her chest burs with mingled relief and joy, aware that the only reason she didn't fall to her knees was because Mr. Gold was supporting her weight with his vice-like grip. Realizing that her eyes had closed at his announcement, she opened them and looked up into his face, too elated to feel any shame at her assumption. "Your sister?" Mr. Gold nodded, and the smile broke out on his face like a ray of sunshine parting the clouds, warming her even as the rain continued to pour onto them. "I thought you… that you two… were… but what about the lingerie?"

"Sam has a certain—er—agreement with a fellow here in town. Her days are spent with me and her nights with him. I'm not seeing anyone, Belle." The named rolled off his tongue with a new timbre, one much deeper and full of new understanding. She closed her eyes again and let the sound of her name on his voice wash over her, warming Belle to her very core and wrapping tenderly around her aching heart. "I've loved you as long as I've known you, Belle."

Her eyes shot open at this, her ears refusing to believe his words until his countenance confirmed what she so warily hoped to believe. Mr. Gold leaned forward, his grip loosening on Belle's arms so that she had the chance to move if she so wished. Even if she did have such an insane urge her feet remained frozen to the ground in a delicious fear as his face came to within an inch of hers, his lips so close to her own that she could feel his hot breath against her skin.

"Mr. Gold…" she whimpered uncertainly, the threat of more tears about to be shed gripping her body. His lips brushed against hers, the sensation igniting sparks in Belle's limbs. She spread her lips instinctively, allowing him to graze her tongue with his own. Moaning, tears spilling from her eyes and mingling with the rain, Belle wrapped her arms tightly around Mr. Gold's neck, her fingers gripping into his sodden hair as she trembled in his arms. "I love you, too."

She felt him smile against her lips, felt his fingers tighten around the small of Belle's waist. He swept light kisses across her damp cheeks and nose, then planted a soft kiss on her forehead. Overwhelmed, Belle wept then, Mr. Gold merely rocking her in his arms and letting the tears to fall as he stroked her hair gently with one hand. Once she had calmed herself, Mr. Gold pecked her lips again and smiled.

"You could have just told me this all before you fled, you know."

Belle laughed then, feeling the last of her rather childish tears being washed away by the raindrops. "I was afraid to tell you. I was afraid that—that I wasn't—"

"Good enough?" Mr. Gold watched her with discerning eyes. "Never doubt your worth, Belle. You should love yourself as much as others do and more." Belle buried her face into his chest, breathing in his scent. "Also, you ran out before I could ask you my question."

Belle looked up at him, only mildly abashed in lieu of a new surge of curiosity. "What was it?"

"I was going to ask if you would like to come with me to the airport to keep me company, and meet my sister." Surprised, delighted, Belle merely nodded fervently and stood on tip toe to kiss him lightly on the lips. She wondered if their lips meeting would ever cease to thrill and fill her with wonder; she sincerely hoped they never did. "Then what say you we get out of the rain?" He held his hand out to Belle, who accepted it with a smile.

"I am rather cold, now that you mention it."

"So I see," Mr. Gold said rather deviously. Laughing with embarrassment, Belle slapped him on the arm and walked around to the passenger side door, arms folded defensively across her chest. She heard him laughing quietly at her blush as he stepped into the open driver's side, and it was with a rather flattered smile that, a moment later, she followed him.