I am going to apologize now for the absurdity and possible spelling errors you may encounter in this snippet. I wrote this when I got back from my synagogue's seder...which, as some of you may know, means I had (at least) four cups of wine in me.

Ladies and Gentlemen and charming in-betweens, I present you the product of my Passover intemperance!

Disclaimer: I wouldn't trust myself to own Once Upon a Time, especially in this state. :P May credit be given where credit is due.

~Unbidden Fantasy~

Belle was intoxicated. Not to the point of oblivion, of course, but a warm buzzing filled her ears and the spinning room had a tendency to shift slightly when she turned her head too quickly.

It was all Rumplestiltskin's fault, of course. The imp had returned, positively jubilant, from a "most advantageous deal," the details of which, he assured her, were none of her concern.

Although a small part of her worried for the poor soul who had agreed to the deal, Rumplestiltskin's glee was contagious. She had laughed freely when he leapt onto the table, his boot-clad feet sliding a little on the polished surface, before breaking into a jig.

"Come down before you hurt yourself!" she'd reprimanded, trying (and failing) to sound stern, "Or my table!"

He'd only laughed loudly, crouching his willowy legs so their faces were level.
"And when, pray tell, did this become your," he curled a long finger under her chin, "table?"

Belle stepped forward until her nose was inches from his, reveling in the way the imp's eyes slightly widened. Though his grin remained unchanged, she had not missed the flash of confusion—and something darker that made her spine tingle deliciously—in his amber orbs. She leaned closer, resting her hand on the tabletop next to his boot. She stared at him, unblinking.

"I don't see your name on it."

Rumplestiltskin leered at her words.

"I don't see yours either, dearie."

"Really?"

She stepped back, grinning boyishly, and inclined her head toward the table surface. Eyebrow quirked in confusion, Rumplestiltskin looked down, releasing a peal of high-pitched laughter upon finding her name elegantly smudged into the wood polish.

"A little childish, don't you think?"

The imp sprung upward off the table and over her head, landing behind her with a faint thud, his grin at her surprised yelp positively puckish. It was slightly unnerving, this behavior...and strangely endearing. Belle couldn't help but giggle, shaking her head at his eccentricity.

"Who is being childish now, hm?"

Rumplestiltskin splayed the fingers of one hand on his chest, mouth falling open in mock-offense. A wicked gleam entered his eyes then.

"Why you are, my dear," he reached toward her, cool fingertips grazing the shell of her ear lightly before pulling away, a bottle of red wine resting in his palm. "Concealing spirits from your master, tut tut!"

Ignoring the lingering prickle where he'd touched her, Belle laughed. He waved his hand again, conjuring two ornate silver goblets. With an exaggerated bow he had presented one to her, smiling at her sigh of surrender.

By the fourth cup their quips and playful bantering had melted into comfortable silence, Belle wandering over to the bookshelves and Rumplestiltskin to his spinning wheel.

So here she sat now, nestled against the back of a plush armchair, her mind too hazy to focus on the leather-bound tome in her lap.

Instead she found her gaze straying to the impish man in the corner, watching the long-fingered hands caress the wooden wheel into a spin, fingertips pinching and pulling and performing magic. Around and around and around...

She shuddered as those discolored, talon-like fingers raked up her arms, settling on her shoulders for a moment before sliding sinuously towards her neck. Her heartbeat thudded in her ears as she arched her neck back, bearing the soft white flesh to the beast. Pointed nails teased the delicate curls at the base of her skull and then leisurely dragged their way over her collarbone. A soft moan escaped her parted lips. The cool, callused fingertips snaked down her chest, leaving behind gooseflesh and igniting a fire which coiled down her spine and settled as a throbbing heat between her legs. Her breath hitched as the hands traveled lower, pausing a moment to trace their nails along edge of her bodice, before slipping beneath and cupping her—

Belle jolted awake with a gasp, her book tumbling to the floor. She looked about her, brows knitted in confusion and, dare she admit, disappointment. Her vision still spun slightly. She closed her eyes, trying to calm her heart. It was then that she realized the silence in the room, the distinct absence of the squeak of the spinning wheel. Perhaps her master had retired for the evening...

He hadn't. Rumplestiltskin sat in front of his wheel, not spinning, but watching her, a peculiar look in his eyes.

"Bad dream?" He asked, quirking an eyebrow.

Belle swallowed thickly.

"Y-you could say that." She responded, hoping he wouldn't notice the slight tremor in her voice, or the way her gaze lingered on the long, gray-gold fingers absent-mindedly twirling a piece of straw.

A wide grin stretched across his face. He noticed. Of course he noticed.

"Whatever about?"

Belle shrugged unconcernedly, rising from her seat and gathering her book to her. She hoped her desire to immediately leave his presence wasn't too obvious as she shuffled towards the door.

She nearly jumped out of her skin upon finding him suddenly in her way. He mirrored her attempts to sidestep him, his leer growing as she huffed and glared at him.

"You never answered my question, dearie."

Belle feigned confusion.

"About the dream."

Belle sighed. "It's not important..." She tried again to slip past him, only to be blocked once more by his body.

"Was is about...me?" He cocked his head to the side, dark eyes hungry with curiosity.

A jolt of panic raced down her spine. "What? No, of course not..."

"I think the lovely blush painting your cheeks says otherwise, my dear." He chuckled mischievously.

Belle sighed in frustration. She tried once more to slip past; again, he stepped in her path.

"Forget it, will you?" If the blush hadn't given her away, her defensive tone certainly would have. His grin stretched wider.

"Tell me, was I as much the monster in your nightmare as I am in reality? All sharp talons and pointy teeth?" He circled behind her, curling his fingers so they resembled claws and growling near her ear.

The electric current swirling beneath her skin at his nearness was eclipsed by frustration at his words.

"I didn't say it was a nightmare, and you're not a monster. Now if you'd please—!"

He materialized in front of her, resting his hands on either side of the doorway so she could not pass. His smirk at her scowl did not quite reach his eyes, which were squinted slightly in bewilderment.

"Let me pass!"

He ignored her demand. His arms still stretched across the exit, the imp leaned towards Belle, contemplative. Belle avoided his gaze, first looking to the floor, then his hands (big mistake), then the floor again, feeling uncomfortably warm. Rumplestiltskin watched as her face and neck flushed a delicate pink, leaning closer. She chanced another quick glance upward, finding him much nearer than she had expected. The pink blush was replaced by a flaming crimson.

No way...

His jaw dropped in complete and utter shock. For a moment he simply gawked at the blushing maiden before him; the infamous Rumplestiltskin, speechless.

A gasp, and then a delighted, maniacal giggle floated out of his throat. His gaping mouth closed to form a smug grin; his eyes glinted.

"You had a naughty dream about me!"

Belle wanted to disappear.

XXX

A/N: Do you want me to continue? I have two very different endings for this snippet tumbling around in my mind. One would most certainly require raising the rating to M. Perhaps I'll write both...if I can stop blushing long enough to put them to paper. Maybe after tonight's seder... ;)

Please review!

Oh, and Chag Pesach Sameach/Happy Easter!