Belle French's genes were perfect: her family medical history was almost completely clean, and the woman herself was an excellent physical specimen- blue eyes, thick hair, perfect skin, teeth, and vision. She was, perhaps, a bit shorter than Gold would have preferred, but that was easy to overlook with all the other advantages she offered.

The terms of the deal were generous. Two million dollars in exchange for nine months of her time. The child would be conceived in a lab, and she'd carry it to term, living in his house where he could ensure she was taking proper care of the infant. After delivery, she would move into the property of her choice, where she would be permitted to remain rent-free for as long as she wished, the remainder of her life if she so chose. She would provide breast milk until the child was weaned and stay strictly out of its life. Belle was an incubator, not a mother.

That had been the deal as of eight months ago. Now, with Belle sitting at his kitchen table and laughing with him as she relayed Granny's latest labor and delivery horror story, it was impossible for him to think of her as anything but his child's mother.

She lived in his home, ate breakfast with him every day, had a cup of tea waiting for him when he came home from the shop, and spent every evening curled up beside him on the sofa, his hand on her swollen belly to feel the baby moving within her. He'd held her hair back when she was sick, attended every doctor's appointment with her, rubbed her back when it ached, and run out to buy canned tuna and graham crackers at three in the morning when she had cravings. He'd told her about his childhood in Glasgow, and she'd held his hand, her eyes dark with sympathy when he told her about his father.

Belle French's genes were perfect. Belle French herself was a dream come true. She had no fear of him, the only person in Storybrooke who didn't. It was, perhaps, difficult to be intimidated by a man who'd made chocolate chip pancakes with a syrup smiley face in a desperate attempt to make her laugh one morning when she could keep nothing else down. He'd rather forfeited his mystique that day, and he didn't regret it in the slightest. He had Belle's smiles and her company, and they were worth more than any property he owned.

Unfortunately, he only had them for four more weeks. Her due date was fast approaching, and while he'd once assumed he'd be relieved to have his house to himself again so he could enjoy the child he'd wanted for so long, now the thought of his house without Belle in it filled him with nothing but terror. It would be so quiet without her laughter and chatter, so cold without her smile and soft touches.

Maybe she'd go overdue, he thought hopefully, immediately feeling guilty. His little Belle was already so uncomfortable with the pregnancy that it was cruel to wish for it to be prolonged just so he could keep her for a few more weeks. He could always ask her to stay a little longer. She'd need to rest after she delivered. She'd need someone to take care of her.

"So, to make a long story short, Granny is very much in favor of the epidural," Belle finished with a wave of her hands, downing the rest of her glass of water and bracing her hand against the table to heave herself out of her chair. It took her two tries, but she waved him off when he moved to help. "I've got it."

His mouth went dry at the sight of her, her belly swollen with his child. Her blue dress hugged her new curves, flaunting her condition. Everyone in Storybrooke knew it was his child growing within her, his seed that had made her look like this. She was completely filled up with him, a part of him with her at all times, and nothing had ever been more erotic. She belonged to him entirely.

Unable to resist, he splayed his hands over her belly, feeling the baby kick. "Have you given any more thought to names?" he prompted, enjoying the touch. Belle had never been more beautiful than she was like this.

"He's your son, Anthony," she reminded him with a bittersweet smile. "You should pick."

"You don't have a preference?" he asked, hurt by the thought. He wanted it to be a joint decision so every time he said the boy's name, he'd be reminded of choosing it with Belle. It was a way to keep her with him.

"I liked all five of your choices. Whichever one you go with will be perfect." Belle winced at a particularly strong kick, and he rubbed the spot, hoping he was helping.

"But if you had to choose. If I told you that if you didn't I was going to call him... oh... Aloysius Ulysses Gold, what would you choose?" Belle laughed aloud at the name he selected, and he lit up at the sound.

"AU Gold? You're a sadist," she smirked, then sighed. "If I have to choose... Baden. I like Baden, and you could call him Bae for short."

Of the five choices he'd presented to her, Baden was his favorite too, and the thought that they'd both come to the same conclusion filled him with warmth. "Baden it is." A knee slammed into his palm, and Belle's breath left her in a whoosh. "Settle down, Bae. Be nice to your mama."

Belle froze, her warm eyes going distant at his words, and Gold winced when he realized what he'd said. "Belle, I-"

"I'm going to take a shower," she cut him off, and he didn't dare follow her with more than his eyes.

"Fuck."

Belle was quiet that night, distant, and he cursed himself for upsetting her. He had so little time left that he didn't want to waste a moment, but he didn't know how to apologize for getting lost in his fantasy world. That was all this could ever be: a fantasy. Belle wanted to see the world; she planned to use his money to travel once she'd recovered, and if the thought of having her out of the house had left him chilled, the thought of her leaving Storybrooke all together all but brought him to his knees. What was he supposed to do when he couldn't see her every day?

He'd cope, he thought bitterly. He'd have no choice. Maybe Bae would look like Belle. Closing his eyes, he tried to picture a little boy with Belle's chestnut curls and laughing blue eyes. He'd be precious, and he'd see his love's face every time he looked at their sweet boy. He'd tell Bae stories about his mama, how kind and gentle she was, how smart, and he'd make sure the boy knew that it wasn't his fault she wasn't with them.

He went to bed early, hoping that by being out of her presence, she might be able to forget what he'd said so they could get back to normal. Sightlessly, he stared at the ceiling, sleep eluding him. If he could just convince her to stay for a few extra weeks, he could make sure she spent plenty of time with Baden. If she fell in love with the baby, she wouldn't want to leave. They could be a family. It wouldn't matter that she didn't love him as long as she stayed.

What could have been minutes or hours later, a small crash from downstairs had him jolting out of bed, and limping as hurriedly as he could down the steps. The lights in the living room were off, but the moonlight was enough for him to make out Belle's silhouette where she was leaning on the couch, one hand pressed to her belly. "Belle, what is it?" he asked, his voice high and panicky, and it seemed to take forever for him to reach her side. "Is it time? Are you having contractions?" It was too early; she wasn't due for another month, but babies came when babies came.

"No, no, nothing like that," she assured him, sounding a little breathless, and he was relieved when she leaned into him. "I'm not in labor, he's just kicking really hard, and my back's killing me."

"Why don't you kneel on the couch?" he suggested, trying to nudge her toward it. They'd discovered the position helped get some of the pressure off her back, and he was about to offer her a massage when to his horror she burst into tears. "Belle?"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" she sobbed, "I broke your cup."

He glanced down at his feet to see the teacup that must have been the source of the crash he'd heard. "It's just a cup," he assured her, shoving it out of the way with his foot, but she just cried harder.

"Come on," he coaxed, giving up on the couch. Between her aching back and the weight of the baby and his bad leg, they made ridiculously slow progress up the stairs, but they did eventually make it to her bedroom, her sobs slowing as they walked. "Here. Kneel on the bed and hang onto the headboard."

Belle did as he bade her, and he got behind her with his left knee on the bed, his right leg awkwardly planted on the floor. What a pair they made. Retrieving the bottle of lavender scented lotion from her nightstand, he carefully eased her pajama bottoms down just a little and pushed up her camisole so he had access to her bare back. Gold warmed the lotion between his hands, pressing the heels of his palms firmly against her lower back. Belle groaned.

"Better, love?" he crooned, hoping she wouldn't notice the endearment.

"Yeah." She shifted her hips a little, and he tried not to let his gaze stray. "That's good."

He kept massaging, feeling her tight muscles slowly relax under his hands as he tried to memorize everything about the moment- the scent of the lotion, the warmth of her skin beneath his fingers, the little sighs she made when he worked out a particularly difficult knot. Even when he'd coaxed her muscles into submission, Gold was unwilling to take his hands off of her, running his palms up and down her back soothingly, trying to prolong it. Belle sighed, resting her head on her hands where they gripped her headboard. "What's wrong?" he murmured, ready to tear the world apart to make her smile again.

"Nothing," she said, her choked voice giving lie to the words, "I'm being stupid."

"I doubt that." When she didn't respond, he tried again, "Why don't you tell Bae, and I'll listen in?"

She made a pained sound, and he kept rubbing her back as she spoke quietly, "I wish this was real. I wish I really was your mama."

"Belle?" her name was a strangled gasp, and she kept her head down, hiding her face from him. Gold scrambled to the head of the bed to sit beside her, taking her hands in his. "Belle, did you-?"

"I'm sorry!" she blurted, pulling away from him to sit on the other side of the bed. "I... I didn't mean to fall in love with you."

Gold couldn't breathe. She loved him. Belle loved him. She was using her hair to hide from him, her hands splayed protectively over her belly, and if he didn't say something soon, she was going to come to exactly the wrong conclusion. "Thank God you did."

"What?" she jerked her head up to look at him, her eyes wide.

"I've loved you forever," he told her, fighting the urge to simply lunge at her. "I don't want this to be a deal anymore. I want you to be Bae's mama. I want us to be a family. I want-"

A woman who was eight months pregnant should not be able to move as fast as Belle did, capturing his mouth with her own. Gold groaned and buried his fingers in her hair as he'd dreamed of doing so many, many times before. She tasted of sweet tea and peppermint and something that was ineffably Belle that he knew he'd never get enough of.

"Say it again," she panted against his lips, and he was happy to oblige her.

"I love you. I love you, Belle." Worried about the strain her position was putting on her back, he eased her back into the pillows, making certain that she was comfortable as he lay beside her, his body pressed full-length against hers the way he'd wanted them to be for months.

Belle yanked him down for another kiss, and he plundered her mouth ruthlessly. He'd wanted her for eight months, and he couldn't be as gentle as he wished. For her part, Belle was equally enthusiastic, her tongue dueling with his as she battled for control of the kiss, and after several enjoyable minutes, he surrendered to her.

"You're overdressed," she panted when they finally had to break apart or smother.

His hands went automatically to the hem of his tee shirt, and he swallowed hard as he yanked it off over his head. "Bit older than you, love," he admitted, hoping she wouldn't be too disappointed. He was too pale and too thin to be conventionally attractive, but he'd never seen the point of picking up something heavy just to pick it up. Now, with lovely Belle in his bed, he wished he'd bothered.

Belle's eyes lit up as she ran her gaze over him. "Very nice," she purred, and he blushed like a schoolboy.

Reaching out, he tugged at her camisole, and she went bright pink. "I don't think so."

He frowned, wondering if he'd misunderstood where this was going. "And why not?"

She gave him an incredulous look, "Because I'm eight months pregnant."

For the life of him, Gold had no idea what to say to that. She was worried she wouldn't be attractive to him? It was such a ridiculous idea that he didn't even know how to countermand it. "Belle, you... you get more beautiful ever day."

She raised her eyebrows and tilted her head in disbelief. "I mean it, Belle. You.. .this..." he ran his hands over her belly, "You're the sexiest thing I've ever seen. You look like this because of me. That's my baby in you, and everyone who looks at you knows you're mine. You've never been more feminine, more gorgeous, more... more..."

He trailed off, still struggling for words as Belle brushed her fingers over his lips. "Okay, okay," she said, giggling a little, but her eyes were bright with tears. "You win."

Gold moaned as she peeled her camisole off, revealing the curve of her belly and her swollen breasts. They were fuller now than they'd ever been, and he was male enough to appreciate it. "My beautiful Belle. My fertile goddess."

She snickered at his words, carding her fingers through his hair as he devoted himself to kissing every inch of her belly, relieved that Baden appeared to be asleep for the time being. He wasn't sure he could do this with their son as a front row spectator. "That's our boy, Belle," he murmured. "I wanted to kiss you so much the day we found out." He remembered sitting next to her as she had the ultrasound, the technician pointing out every detail of their son's perfect body, still held safe inside of her. For the first time it had truly hit him that they were going to be parents, and he'd longed to kiss her, to thank her for the amazing thing she was doing. Remembering that she didn't see things the same way had broken his heart.

"I wanted you to," she confessed, her hand pressing against her belly. "It hurt so much to think that he wasn't really ours."

"He is, love. He is. He's our boy, and we're going to be such good parents." He pressed a lingering kiss just above her navel. "We're going to be a perfect family."

His son and his Belle would want for nothing. He would take care of them, make them happy, and they'd be together forever. Despite his reputation, his wants were so very simple: if he had his family, he'd be happy. Belle and Bae were all he needed. Perhaps in a few years they could have another, a little girl this time, a miniature Belle for him to adore.

Belle petted his hair, and her eyes were so warm when he looked up at her that he had to have another kiss and another and another. Belle was his now, his in all ways, and he couldn't get enough of her mouth. How could he have ever thought he could let her go?

Groaning, he tore his mouth from hers as Belle started to explore his chest with delicate fingers, searching out all the places that made him shiver. "You're killing me love," he panted as she traced her fingernail lightly around his nipple, and she gave him a mischievous smile.

"But I'm just getting started," she said innocently, and he made a noise suspiciously close to a whimper as he buried his face against her breasts, trying to distract her. She was so responsive, her noises of pleasure so addictive as he kissed and licked and sucked, that Gold felt like he was losing his mind. Nothing was better than touching Belle, and he felt suddenly territorial.

He wanted to crush her against him, to pin her body beneath his and feel every inch of her against every inch of him. Baden, however, was in the way, and suddenly her pregnancy couldn't be over soon enough to suit him. Like this, Belle was gorgeous, but being able to have her properly in his arms would be sheerest heaven.

It wasn't to be right now, but it was hard to be too disappointed with Belle's fingers straying just below the waist of his pajama pants to stroke over his skin. "Minx," he chided, delighted with her boldness.

"Take them off," she ordered, and he hastened to agree, trying not to blush when her eyes ran hungrily over him, a soft noise of sympathy escaping her at the sight of his broken knee.

"Doesn't hurt," he assured her, his eyes fluttering closed when she brushed her fingertips over his straining length. With her doing that, it was hard to remember he even had knees, much less that he needed to be careful of them.

She helped him slide her own pajama pants off, and it was his turn to stare. He didn't deserve an inch of her, but Belle was naked and in bed with him, and he'd never been happier in his life.

Spooning up behind her, he held her tightly, wanting to feel her in his arms. She could refuse to let him do another thing, and Gold would be content just with this. This was more than he'd ever dreamed possible.

Actually, they probably should stop. They should talk about this, and he should propose, let her know just how permanent he wanted this new deal to be. "We... we should slow down," he panted, unable to stop his hands from wandering. "Don't want to rush you... don't want to hurt..."

"Anthony, I'm having your baby," Belle told him firmly, guiding his hand between her legs, "I think it's about time I had you."

Gold gave up. They both moaned as he slipped his fingers between her folds, and she was so very wet. So wet and hot and ready for him, and his cock throbbed. "Now, love, I want you to do it now."

Grinding his teeth, he pressed his face against the back of her neck, her words provoking him unbearably. "Are you sure?"

"I've wanted you for eight months. Now get in me," she ordered, and her demanding tone made him want to both laugh and climax immediately. Biting on his tongue, he managed to avoid doing either.

Reaching down, Gold took himself in hand, easing into her as gently as possible as Belle shoved her hips back impatiently. He grunted and thrust deeper, freezing when Belle hissed. "Love?"

"Sorry! Just not so deep, okay? Bae's kind of low right now." He withdrew at once, marveling at her words. She already shared such a connection with the baby, already knew his movements intimately. How could they have ever thought that she wouldn't be his mother in all ways?

But she was now. Belle was Bae's mama, and she would be his wife, and they'd be a family. They'd travel and see the world just like she wanted, only they'd do it together, and they'd be so, so happy. First, though, they had this.

After some adjusting, they discovered that Belle liked quick, shallow thrusts, and he withdrew completely with each one, entering her again and again, teasing her with just the head before going a little deeper on each stroke. "That's it, right there. Oh, that's good," she purred, and he loved how vocal she was.

"We should have done this from the start," he moaned, burying his face in her hair as he moved his hips a little faster, careful not to thrust too deeply. "Should have gotten you in trouble the old fashioned way."

"I'm definitely in trouble," she agreed, and he could hear the smile in her voice as he nuzzled at her throat, tracing kisses up and down the column of her neck and pausing only to nibble at the shell of her ear and whisper filthy, complimentary things.

This was delicate as they walked a knife-edge of pleasure between too much and not enough, and somehow it was all the more erotic for it. Having to remember to control himself, not to thrust too deeply, added an extra level of tension, his body quivering as he pleased his Belle and protected her with each rock of his hips. One hand played with her breast as he kept the other firmly over Bae. His baby was in his Belle, and his arms were full of more love than he'd ever thought possible.

It didn't matter that he hadn't even been in the room when Belle had gotten pregnant. This was the moment of conception. This was making Bae theirs in all ways, their family conceived in joy and pleasure. Belle cried out softly, the sound sending a jolt through him, and he slid his hand down over her belly to reach between her legs, finding the spot that would bring her the same ecstasy that he was feeling.

Time had lost all meaning. All that existed in Gold's world was the feel of Belle in his arms and the slide of his body within her as he made her his. She was all his, and he'd never let her go. It might have lasted minutes or hours; it didn't matter. He was inside his Belle, and she was moaning for him, and he'd never been happier in his life.

"Anthony!" she cried out, her voice wavering, and he groaned as her body clenched around him, drawing him deeper as she moved against him frantically.

"Yes, love, yes," he gasped into her ear, his fingers moving in a blur as he coaxed her through it, trying to prolong her pleasure as much as he could. "Oh yes, Belle."

She cried out one final time, her chest heaving under his hand as she panted out, "I love you."

Gold had just enough presence of mind to pull back slightly instead of slamming forward as his own climax overwhelmed him, and he poured himself into Belle's sweet body. His now. All his. She laced her fingers with his, letting him grip her the way he needed to as the wave crested, the pleasure so intense it was nearly painful, burning him from the inside out.

He wrapped himself around her, moaning in protest when he softened enough to slip out of her, putting an end to their blissful connection. He had his precious Belle in his arms, their son protected within her body, and there was so much love here, so much more than he'd ever dreamed he'd be granted.

"What now, love?" he murmured, happier than he could ever remember being. He'd follow Belle's lead. If she wanted to sleep, they'd sleep, it she wanted more, he was delighted to oblige.

"You said I could pick any of your properties I want to live in after Bae's here?" she asked, and his heart sank. She'd given him one night, and that was more than he deserved. Maybe she'd still want to be involved with Bae's life, and they'd be able to spend more time together.

"That was the deal. Did you have one in mind?" He tried to sound businesslike about it, and failed miserably, his voice cracking on the last words.

Belle snuggled back into him. "I know exactly the one I want." She craned her neck back so she could smile up at him, her eyes soft, "This one."

Gold's breath caught. "You- you mean it? You'll stay?"

"A new deal. Forever," she promised, and he sealed it with a kiss.