Title: Cinnamon (Or Belle vs. Storybrooke)

Author: robinsparkles14, though I hand much of the credit to the lovely raereagirl :)

Rating: T

Summary: Belle tries baking in the modern world

Authors Notes: Well...it's fluff. It's very fluffy fluff with a dash of confused Belle. This idea was brought to my attention by raereagirl, and she is the mastermind behind it.

Rumpelstiltskin had gone into the shop early this morning.

The logic behind it had been that Belle would be asleep until he returned, and she would be unable to break anything or confuse herself with any of his modern-day devices.

She had already managed to destroy the air conditioner (deciding to smash it instead if sinply asking him to turn it down), the smoke detector (her adventure with the stove had gone awry and the thing had scared her half to death), and the TV (she had turned it on only to be terrified by it. After hitting it with a chair, she had closed the door to the living room and forbade Rumpelstiltskin to enter as if the devil resided inside.). And, of course, no one could ever forget the whole incident with the parking meter.

Rumpelstiltskin never could have predicted how ridiculously confused by this world Belle would be. It had started with the air conditioner and only progressed from there. It was a little funny, and though her guilty looks are precious, he would like to preserve as much of his house as possible.

But unfortunately for him, the empty space beside her woke Belle up early. She hated the feeling of being alone. She had been alone for 28 years. Feeling that Rumpelstiltskin was gone only brought back memories she did not wish to think about. Especially not now that she had him for herself again.

She had dressed in one of the many dresses he had provided her with. They were all stunning, but she could not help but be amused by the fact that none of them came close to reaching her knees. The thought makes her blush, knowing that he lusts after her (not that he makes it a huge secret) though she cannot help but enjoy the idea.

Belle needed something to occupy herself. When she had been in the dark castle, she had massive amounts of cooking and cleaning to do (though she thought maybe that was only because Rumpelstiltskin had wanted to keep her busy), but here everything seemed to have been done. Belle suspected it was because her true love had his magic again, and did not want to see her cleaning. Though the thought is kind of him, she likes cooking and even cleaning a bit, and it is far better than sitting around feeling bored and alone.

She danced into the kitchen and laid her eyes on the row if books on the counter. Smiling to herself, she took one with 'Baking' written up the side. Finally, something in this world she understands.

After flipping through the pages for a while, she found a recipe that looked easy enough. It was for cinnamon cookies, and she liked that because she thought cinnamon suited Rumpelstiltskin. Strong, bitter at times, but also lovely when mixed with the proper ingredients. Though Belle knew that Rumpelstiltskin could be lovely all on his own.

She searched through the kitchen, finding all of his measuring cups and bowls. However, she stared down at the word "mixer" on the page of the cookbook for a long time. She did not exactly have the best track record with technology...but this was cooking! Belle knew how to cook. How bad could a silly mixer be? The picture looked strange, yes, but if she could find it then she could figure out how to use it easily! She was sure of it.

Belle fumbled around with the cupboards quite a while, taking out anything that resembled the picture in the cookbook, but it was obvious which one was the mixer when she compared each contraption to the illustration. It had a switch at the handle, a chord dangling from it, a plug at the end, and two tongs at the front, perhaps for the mixing part.

Belle knew how to use a plug. The things were everywhere, after all, and Rumpelstiltskin used them constantly. They were simple enough, all she had to do was plug it into the wall.

With the mixer dilemma out of the way, Belle now had to deal with the problem of Rumpelstiltskin having nothing in the way of food. Thankfully for her, he had left her his "credit card" which from what Belle could tell was a magic piece of plastic that bought anything she wanted. He had told her only to use it in an emergency...but emergency was a word he had failed to define to her, and in her mind, escaping boredom was definitely an emergency. Sort of.

So Belle took the card and the cookbook from counter and slipped only the card into her coat pocket, abandoning the house momentarily for the streets of Storybrooke.

Despite the curse being lifted, Storybrooke is still gloomy, dreary, and unexciting. However after what had happened to Sneezy, Prince Charming forbade anyone from leaving the town limit. It was disappointing to Belle. She was hoping that now she could see the world with someone she truly loved. And although Rumpelstiltskin promised her that it would happen in time, it was upsetting that Regina had put a damper on their plans.

Jiminy passed by Belle on her way to the grocery,store with his dog, Pongo and Red Riding Hood in,toe. Belle had noticed Jiminy and Red spending an unusually large amount of time together lately, and their friendship always makes her smile. They waved at her wildly and laughed (not that Belle understood why they were laughing. In her mind it was perfectly normal to be walking out in the cold with nothing but a cookbook.)

"Hey!" Red said, grinning like she always did, "What are you doing out?"

Belle laughed, "Just getting some food," she assured her, scratching Pongo behind the ears.

"Don't worry, we won't tell to Gold on you. We know you need to get out," Red laughed, and Jiminy shot her a look.

Belle smiled at the ground. "Yeah, I guess," she muttered.

Jiminy nodded at Belle. "Well, we should be going. Have a nice day, Belle."

She watched then walk away, laughing to herself.

Belle had been to the grocery store only once before, with Rumpelstiltskin. It had been purely to get some substantial food for Belle, but since it was not very much, it run out quickly, which gives Belle more justification for using the magic plastic.

She traipsed around the store, her nose buried in the cookbook, looking up only briefly to gather what she needed. Belle could feel eyes on her, as always. Being the girlfriend of the most feared man in town has earned her some stares from the people of Storybrooke. None of them really understood her relationship with Rumpelstiltskin, perhaps because it had blossomed behind closed doors in his castle, and seeing them together now publicly seemed sudden to them. Still, Belle could not help but be irritated with people like Emma Swan warning her about her choice in who to love. Belle knew exactly who she was with, and she loved him despite it. At least Emma's mother understood that. Snow White was one of the few people who had questioned her, and it was comforting. Snow only gave Belle little smiles on the street when she saw Belle and Rumpelstiltskin together, which was preferable to Emma's sneer.

Emma just did not understand because she had never been lucky enough to find a love she believed in. Had she ever experienced what Belle had, she certainly would not be so cynical. It was sad, thinking that such a good, beautiful girl could not find true love, but Belle found that this world liked to keep that from people. She had heard what had happened to Snow and Charming while she had been locked up. Love hides from people here, and Belle was lucky to have had hers revealed so quickly.

She smiled at the dwarf at the counter while he swiped the card across some sort of machine. He handed her the bags full of food and sneezed "T-Thank you," he said to her.

"You're welcome," Belle chirped, taking them from him and walking out the door. She saw the expression on the dwarf's face as she did so. It was funny. It seemed like to many of the people here, she was an amusement. They looked at her as though she was a confused little child when she did things. Perhaps it was because she did not understand this world very much, or because they thought Mr. Gold had corrupted her. Either way, the looks followed her everywhere in this town.

When she arrived back at the house, Belle laid everything across the counter, with the cookbook directly in front of her.

The directions started off simply enough. Mix a stick of butter with some sugar in a large bowl, and some flour, baking powder, and a bit of salt in a smaller one. Simple. However, the last time Belle had made cookies was over 28 years ago, and she had managed to forget that flour could easily create little clouds and mangle itself in her hair and clothes. It took about five minutes to get Belle's pretty, lacy blue dress to be clouded with white, and her head to look as if she had been out in the snow.

Beyond that, she managed to succeed with everything else (even preheating the oven, since she had seen Rumpelstiltskin do it before.). Mixing, changing bowls, greasing a cookie sheet she had found. It was not until the mixer came into question that she began to worry.

It did not look particularly breakable (or menacing, like that parking meter thing), and she had convinced herself that it would be easy but...she had also convinced herself that if she hit the air conditioner it would shut off, and it had shocked her first.

But a mixer would not shock her, probably. So she told herself to do the brave thing and brought the bowl toward the contraption. In the picture the book showed her, the two tongs sat it the bowl while they appeared to be spinning. She placed them like so and turned the switch up as high as it would go. It made sense after all. One would not only turn the light on halfway, so why would a mixer be any different?

The thing began to spin out of control, shaking in Belle's hand and spraying cookie dough up everywhere. It whacked the sides of the bowl, creating what looked like a twister in the middle. Belle gasped and felt little droplets fall into her hair and splatter the front of her dress.

"Stop!" She yelled at it, "Stop, please!"

It ignored her, continuing to sputter and spin before she decided to yank it from the bowl, creating a shower of cinnamon cookie dough. Belle closed her eyes and cringed, listening to the sound of dough slapping against the cabinets and walls. It continued to shake in her hand and she wanted to drop it, but feared what would happen if she did.

She cracked one eye open and saw that by now the tongs were clean of any trace of dough. A good sign, maybe? However they still spun insanely. Belle knew that for them to stop she would need to unplug it, but she could not think of how to do so without dropping it.

"Please," she whispered to it, setting it down on the granite, "Do not hurt the counter. He will be so very angry with me if you do."

Belle then raced around the counter and tried to ignore the clanking sounds the mixer made against it. She yanked the plug as fast as she could manage, and breathed a sigh of relief when it stopped.

Belle eyed the many areas of the kitchen, each one splattered with dough.

-xxx-

From the outside, he never would have guessed the mess Belle had made. But when he opened the door and ventured into the kitchen, it could not be ignored. There sat Belle, atop the counter scrubbing it like her life depended on it and muttering under her breath.

Everything was completely covered in some sort of beige substance, including Belle, and the room smelled amazing.

He laughed and waltzed over to her. "Belle," he said her name slowly, but she still jumped, obviously not having realized he was there, "Just because you're living here, it does not mean you have to take up the housekeeper position again, love."

She looked up at him, and he had to stop himself from laughing. She was covered in what appeared to be flour and cookie dough, which explained the aroma. Though how the cookie dough ended up half on his walls and half in Belle's hair remains to be seen.

Belle dropped her face into her hands, a little puff of flour rising as she did so. "I'm so sorry," she said softly, "I did not mean to break your house, really! And I thought I could clean it up before you returned but..." She trailed off.

Now his laughing cannot be avoided. She just looked so innocent. A young, beautiful girl having made a mess trying to bake for him, and she expected him to be angry? He lifted her chin with his thumb and smiled at her. "That's quite all right," he assured her, "Just as long as you've made the best cookies in this town. And if my memory is correct, that shant be hard for you."

Belle gave him a little smile and glanced at the tray of cookies sitting atop the stove. "You can try one if you'd like..." She offers.

He smiled at her for what is probably the millionth time since he had seen her in Storybrooke. He could not stop himself from smiling at every little thing she did. It was a habit he could never really see himself growing out of as long as she existed in his life.

She stood up slowly and plucked one of her cookies from the tray, bringing it over to him shyly. He took it from her and tasted it slowly, letting it melt in his mouth just how he remembered. "Amazing," he murmured, "Still amazing."

She smiled and took the cookie from his hand since it was clear to both of them that cookies were no longer the subject at hand. "Yeah," she said, "even after all that time...it's still the same."

"Except this time I won't be letting it get away."

Belle leaned against the counter and let him kiss her. She tasted like those cinnamon cookies, and her lips were still soft despite being caked in flour. She leaned up, holding him closer to her, as close as he could possibly be.

Having her here was no more believable than the first time he had kissed her, back in the castle, or when she had wandered into his shop. Having her in his life did not even seem possible, not only because he believed her to be dead, but also because it still did not make sense for her to love him.

But she did. She did, and that would never change. Not as long as they existed in any world brought to them.