"Darn it!" Belle hissed as her hand once again slipped off of the disobedient kosher dill pickle jar, leaving a slight burning sensation on her fingers.

All Belle wanted was some darn pickles so that she could put them on the darn hamburgers she was making for darn dinner for her and her darn boyfriend! She bet that screwed-tight pickle jars with glasses-wearing pelicans were part of the darn curse!

She tried hugging it against her chest to better immobile it but her efforts presented no results.

On cue, her beloved Rumpelstiltskin strolled into the kitchen with all his sexy, empathic glory. He noted the increasingly violent woman trying to smother filthy curses at the jar of pickles and made a very wise decision to stay out of it. He eased through the room as quietly as possible, even leaving his cane behind to reduce the amount of noise he made as he slid to the counter where a plate of freshly baked oatmeal and chocolate chip cookies sat to cool. He picked up a handful, glanced back to make sure his growling darling-dearest was still occupied, and tiptoed to the exit.


With a curse the man in question began to trot as quickly up the stairs as his lame leg would allow.

"Darn you Rumpelstiltskin the Dark One! Get your arse back down those stairs or so help me no dinner or sex tonight!" Belle screamed despite the too well-known fact that there will indeed be sex. There's never no sex; what an absurd thing to think about.

It took a few long seconds for Rumpelstiltskin to begrudgingly drag himself back into the kitchen where his beloved stood tapping her foot impatiently, the mad blush on her cheeks slightly a turn on. He cursed his weak willpower and whatever God existed in the cursed town for giving him such an irresistibly sexy wife.

Belle smirked with triumph. Men. "Open this." she ordered.

Rumpelstiltskin sighed tiredly. Women. He pointed at it with the intention of simply magicking the lid open however Belle placed her hand on top of the jar with a look that stated that their sex life would come to a devastating halt if he relied on magic for such a simple task.

"With your hands, love."

With a look just as dirty as her own, he snatched the jar of green sex-deprivers from her and tried simply twisting the lid off, resulting in a stinging sensation on his hand. Growling, he tried Belle's earlier attempt of hugging the jar to his chest but to no avail.

"Not so easy, is it Mr. Big and Strong Dark One?"

Glaring nastily at the smug woman, Rumple hit the bottom of the jar with a powerful smack, determined that he would get the wretched thing open! He tried again but the jar did not open. Rumpelstiltskin scowled at the still closed jar and cursed their cucumber parents.

Belle smirked a condensing smirk, which went unnoticed by Rumple since he was too a absorbed with opening the blasted jar. With his wits sparking to their end, he ran the jar under boiling hot water from the sink and proceeded to tap the lid against the edge of the counter violently. Again, no results.

"Is this part of the damn curse!?" Rumple yelled while Belle struggled to stand from laughing so hard.

He was ready to throw the bloody thing, but the wooden block on the counter gave him one last idea. Angrily, he grabbed one of the steak knives and hazardously slid the point under the rim of the lid and lifts up. It loosen. He dangerously tossed the knife onto the floor and pried the jar open with ease.

Belle watches, arms crossed and relaxed against the sink as a cool, accomplished grin crossed his face.


She nodded and took the jar from his reddened palms. "Thank you...darling." She slid the jar of koshers away. "Now I do believe you've earned your dessert early."

He licked his lips hungrily and pulled his beauty close as she viciously devoured his lips.

So in the end...there was sex-

and kosher pickles-

and burnt hamburgers-

and love-

and sex again-

and a very disturbed fire department who showed up later due to a neighbor's call about the "fire detectors".