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Belle had been drifting into a happy haze of pleasure, lulled by her husband's soft touch at her brows and temples. He kept massaging away the stress of the day, using no magic other than his fingers, and then would bury his hands in her hair, continuing down her scalp before he started again. They were lying in bed, taking an early night in just so she could cuddle up to Rumpelstiltskin and lay her head on his chest.
It hadn't even been seven at night when Belle had decided she couldn't deal with their routine anymore. Thankfully Rumpelstiltskin hadn't protested when she'd grabbed his wrist, halting the slicing of some tomatoes for dinner, and then determinedly tugged him toward the kitchen door.
"Long day, hm?" he'd said, letting Belle lead him up the stairs.
"Too long." Belle had breathed out a deep, tired sigh. "Was asked to settle an argument between one of Leroy's brothers and Maleficent. The dwarves want to explore the caves for more fairy dust, Maleficent won't allow them in there unless they can prove the dust is there."
"Now that would make whatever price Mal's charging go through the roof." Rumpelstiltskin chuckled approvingly. At his wife's look, he shrugged. "The convent would be forced to pitch in. Can I help it if I enjoy their trials?"
Belle had to giggle at his innocent expression. "Awful man," she chided him, but her affectionate tone drew a smile out of him.
On their arrival in their bedroom, Rumpelstiltskin toed off his shoes and loosened his tie without prompting. He laid down on his side of the bed and gently guided her to rest against him.
Half an hour later, Belle had forgotten the hassle of being town librarian in Storybrooke. Outside the town line, Belle would have directed dwarf and dragon to brush up their skills on Google; but the information about the world without magic didn't always apply to their land.
The internet was useless at finding fairy dust.
Which left Belle buried in dozens in books written in several languages that often contradicted themselves... and then trying to apply their theories to this strange world that had been created by a curse.
"I'm quitting next month," she grumbled.
Rumpelstiltskin smiled. "No, you are not."
"Last week I had Rapunzel come to wonder why her hair was growing faster."
He looked mildly interested, as he always did when it came to strange spells not of his making. "It is?"
Making a face, Belle sighed. "After hours of research, she finally thinks to mention she's changed her conditioner. Turns out she wasn't getting as many split ends as in the old world."
Rumpelstiltskin laughed.
Belle barely kept herself from elbowing him. "I'm serious, Rumple. I'll quit."
"You'd be bored in two days, darling."
"I wasn't bored in the Dark Castle." She turned to look at him, smiling at the memories of their first months together. "I could take care of you again. Make your dinner. Mend your clothes. Do the laundry."
Rumpelstiltskin knew better than to romanticize that time.
"You hated every chore, Belle," he reminded her.
"Not at all times."
Her husband laughed. "Of course not. There were all those days I'd find you in your library, with your nose glued to the pages. My kitchen would be a mess, the wrinkles on my shirts would have wrinkles themselves, and there would be dust all over the castle...." He kissed the crown of her hair. "Admit it, love. You were a dismal maid."
"I wasn't that bad," she protested.
Rumpelstiltskin just hummed noncommittally, stroking from her temple down to her jaw, and then up again, using just enough pressure to make her moan before he veered to the lobe of her ear.
Belle had to admit this: he was wonderful at distracting her.
The End
28/11/16