Stacks by DD Agent

I do not own Once Upon a Time or any of its characters, or its settings - all belongs to the lovely folks at ABC.

This is a Prequel to Teacher's Pet and Chaperone. Minor sexy times.

The epic iambicdearie prompted me this: "Professor Gold and Belle with a discussion of Shakespeare thrown into the mix, somehow (it fits with Tudor history, too!)." I do apologise if anything is incorrect, my knowledge of Shakespeare is from acting in it rather than studying it. Which is also to say that Gold's story is entirely true.

Enjoy! :D


"Oh Ms French, you really shouldn't be wearing such a flimsy blouse to class."

Belle French shivered as her professor's cane moved apart the neckline of her shirt to reveal the deep plunge of her bra. She had chosen to wear red satin under the black shirt, going for daring and seductive. She and her professor had been playing a game of back and forth in the classroom for months and Belle knew that one day their control would snap and they would be all over each other. She was glad, as the tip of his cane ripped the rest of her buttons away, that the day had finally come.

"I could have just taken it off," Belle whispered, watching Professor Gold's eyes darken with lust as he gazed over her skin. She was on show for him, a priceless find waiting for his calloused hands to examine and caress. Belle groaned at the thought of his hands on her.

The hand holding his cane moved forward, pressing the stick of wood against the thin slip of fabric that held her breasts hostage. With the right amount of pressure, it broke and they slipped into his view. "Oh Ms French," he groaned.

She rubbed her thighs together in anticipation as Professor Gold moved between the chairs. His cane clattered to the floor as he sat in the seat next to hers. "I've dreamt about this, Belle. Months and months, I've only dreamt of you."

One hand dug into her curls, the other reaching over to tease a taut nipple. She was lost before he even pressed his mouth to hers.

"Hey sleepy head, you got the notes from Wednesday's class in Never Never Land?"

Belle lifted her head off the desk, a piece of paper stuck to the side of her face. She looked blearily at her study partner August Booth from across the desk, watching him gesturing to the large amount of notes and reference books out in front of them. She hated Journalism mid terms. She hated being woken up in the middle of a dirty dream about her professor. "I think they're in the purple folder."

August rolled his eyes, reaching over for the folder himself when she didn't move. Belle was too busy getting her bearings. The clock in the library study area had just rolled on to six am. She and August had been there since eight the previous night trying to get a handle on the questions Professor Glass was likely to ask. But Belle just couldn't focus on Journalism; her eyes kept lingering to the book hidden under her blue folder.

"You were moaning in your sleep," August said, breaking the silence. Belle looked up to see him smirk at her. "Was I good?"

Belle made a disgusted noise in the back of her throat. She didn't need to be throwing up so early. "I'm going to get the Smee text. I have an urge to check about ethics."

"I've got an urge I'd like you to check."

Feeling something nasty slide over her skin, Belle stood up from the table and headed to the

Journalism section of the university library. August was a slime ball, always hitting on her and Ruby and constantly making up grand tales as part of his seduction tactics. Normally Belle would have nothing to do with a creep like him, especially after the whole Greg debacle. But August was best friends with their own close friend Jefferson, a psychology major who dabbled in photography. She and Ruby only put up with August because of him.

In the Journalism stacks, Belle found the book she was after. Her skin felt better away from August, it had returned to its flushed appearance after dreaming about Professor Gold. Such dreams were becoming more and more frequent, as were her loud personal sessions when Ruby was out for the night. Belle couldn't wait until she graduated so she could do something about her rather consuming crush. Another year and a half to go.

Looking up at the book, Belle reached up on her toes to try and get it. Groaning as sleep deprived her of the basic motor functions she needed to reach up and get the required text, Belle tried to see if there were any tall men around to help out a sleepy damsel in distress.

"Fuck," Belle cursed, not wanting to go back to August without that book; or even worse, ask him for help.

As she looked up at the text book, a cane moved into her eye line and knocked it down into her arms. She turned left to see her dream lover standing there, smirking. "Didn't know you had such a potty mouth, Ms French."

She giggled nervously. Professor Gold looked pretty good considering the time of the morning. Purple shirt, still no tie. She had never seen him in a tie. There was a little stubble on his cheeks. Belle pressed her hands together behind her back to stop any urges she might have of throwing him against the stacks and letting him rub his mouth against parts of her that were still tender from her little nap. Nineteen months to go.

"It's Journalism mid terms, I think I'm allowed some creative language," Belle replied, trying a grin out for size to cover her nervousness. He responded with a smile. "Thank you for your help with the book."

"You're very welcome, Ms French." He frowned playfully. "The library is a dangerous place, as I have so discovered very early this morning. Mister Nolan and Ms Blanchard were quite wrapped up in each other when I went to pick up a book from the History stacks."

Belle clamped her mouth shut. Everyone knew that seniors David and Mary Margaret were often found making out in the History section. Belle had caught them at it twice when she had been looking for a book that Gold had mentioned in class. But the fact that Gold had found them...well that made Belle blush. One of her favourite fantasies was him tracking her down in the stacks and having his way with her, knocking down several of their course text books in the process.

"Yes, I'm afraid Tudor Playwrights is quite tarnished for me now."

Belle chuckled. He had an odd sense of humour, but he seemed to light up when she laughed. Maybe once she had graduated he would definitely see her as more than just his student. "You're looking at Shakespeare?"

Gold nodded, leaning against the stacks. Belle moved closer to him, determined to enjoy this private conversation with her favourite professor. August could wait; it was rare that she ever got to spend time with Gold outside of his class or his office. Especially this early in the morning. His hair looked a little tousled, like he had just got out of bed. Belle memorised his ruffled appearance so she could add it to her ever growing list of Professor Fantasies.

"You a fan of the Bard, Ms French?"

Belle nodded eagerly, trying to find a quote from one of his works to impress the Professor but found herself lost for words. Nothing that wasn't clich├ęd was coming to her. Thankfully, Gold took pity on her and pressed on with his questions. "What's your favourite? I bet I can guess."

No one ever did - certainly no one in the Shakespeare and Marlowe class she had taken last year had been able to. Playfulness had replaced anxiety, and Belle smirked. "Okay, go on."

Her Professor looked at her, raising his eyebrows and stroking his stubble theatrically. After a minute of thought, he made a twirling hand gesture, resulting in his finger in her face. God she wanted to keep him for herself. "You don't seem like a tragic romantic to me, Ms French, but a romantic nonetheless. My guess is A Midsummer Night's Dream."

Belle snorted and shook her head. "Good play, but not my favourite."

"Taming of the Shrew? You seem to like the challenge of someone tempestuous and tragically misunderstood."

She laughed again, wondering if Professor Gold was indeed flirting with her. It seemed so. He was her favourite professor, and they did get on incredibly well. But maybe she was imagining it all - she was incredibly tired and the erotic dream she had enjoyed meant she would have read a simple smile in her direction as a proposal of marriage.

"It's Richard III," she explained, putting him out of his misery.

Gold cocked an eyebrow at her, confused at her choice. "Richard III? Seriously?"

Belle shrugged. "The language is impeccable. I like it for the historical content, mostly. I mean, it was written at a time when Elizabeth I was monarch and no matter how you dress up Richard III, it's her grandfather who wins at the end of the play." She flushed a little. "I love the way it falls into absolute chaos, where you can see the slow descent of Richard on the stage. Although, actually, it's one of Hastings lines that is my favourite: O momentary grace of mortal men..."

She watched his smile move from playful to sincere. "Which we more hunt for than the grace of God." Professor Gold chuckled, his voice coming out hoarsely between his lips. "It's my favourite as well. When I was a young man I played Hastings on the stage. The chap playing Richard, a particularly nasty bastard, chucked a chair at my head during rehearsals. I often adlibbed a few non-traditional curse words when he was like that. Including opening night when I had to duck very quickly."

Belle laughed, bowing her head as they shared such a personal moment. She didn't know anything about Gold apart from this singular scrap of information that he had now provided. They shared a smile, his eyes turning to the floor after she held them for too long.

"You best get back to studying, Ms French. Although please don't forget to eat or sleep - it's only Journalism. Your History studies are much more important."

Belle snorted, tucking a curl behind her ear. She was so imagining Gold's eyes following her hand. "I will take care of myself, Professor, I swear."

"Good." He winked at her and turned around to leave before coming back to her. Her stomach fluttered and she tried to stop her mind from thinking of too many unrealistic scenarios. "Oh, Ms French? I marked your last paper. I'll see you in my office first thing Monday."

Groaning as he left, Belle collapsed against the shelves. Another D. At least she was passing Journalism, and despite her rambunctious study partner, she knew she would pass her midterm. For some reason she couldn't get her head around History. Maybe it was Gold, she did spend too much of her study time thinking about his hands, his words, his voice whispering in her ear. Smirking slightly, Belle thoughts travelled over to where her belongings lay, and where her Professor's new book on representations of the Tudor period in popular culture sat under her blue folder.

Ruby was going to a party later on. Belle had a feeling that, after she spent all day studying, it would be an early night for her.