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ryik-the-writer · 4 years ago

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For @celticheartedfangirl, Happy Christmas in July

This prompt was a treat, even if I”m extremely behind

Plot: Belle and Rumplestiltskin go on a trip to retrieve an object from a vengeful ice queen, only to end up in a snowstorm.

A03

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Since Belle had made her deal to go with him forever, Rumplestiltskin’s life had gotten much more…chaotic.

He had never intended to bring Belle along on his many quests and adventures…hell he hadn’t known what to do with her after making that deal!

But after the Robin Hood incident, he had an anchoring to keep her near.

Not because he liked her! No, of course not…

Their latest adventure involved bringing Belle to a town frozen in time where a very angry snow queen had cursed them all.

Of course, he hadn’t let on right away what they were doing, thus she had no way of knowing that the ice sculptures she was ogling at were indeed human.

“They’re beautiful,” Belle cooed, pushing the heavy bag she had packed behind her so she could view each one. “How cute, a dog!”

Rumplestiltskin withheld a mischievous grin. Poor girl would faint if she knew the truth!

Then, she had found the remains of an icy lake, solid and tempting.

Her smile had been bright enough to melt the whole town.

“I haven’t been ice-skating since I was a little girl,” she grinned as she changed her shoes.

Rumplestiltskin huffed. “I don’t believe we have—”

Belle shot off before he could finish, causing Rumple’s heart to jump when she stumbled across the ice, struggling for stable ground.

In a flash, Rumplestiltskin magicked to her side, steadying her.

“It’s…it’s been a while,” Belle chuckled as her lets finally stopped shaking.

“Obviously,” he said, trying to hide his concern.

She didn’t let go of his hand, instead pulling him along with her as she set off again.

He used magic to keep him from sliding ungracefully, but he couldn’t quite contain his surprise at her eagerness to be with him.

She looked back at him, grinning ear to ear, admitting her gratefulness that he let her come along without a single word.

Rumplestiltskin couldn’t contain a smile back. She really was a lovely girl. Such a shame he could never tell her…

After a moment she led him back to the bank of the pond, skidding them both to a stop.

After catching her breath, she brushed a strand from her face and skipped his way, hands crossed behind her back.

“You didn’t bring me here just for the brilliant ice sculpting,” she teased. “What’s on today’s agenda?”

Rumplestiltskin smiled with mischief. “Visiting an old friend.”

Belle gave him a look. “By friend, you mean sworn enemy, right?”

Rumplestiltskin giggled. “We…have history.”

Belle hummed, rubbing her hands together and shivering. “Don’t suppose we could visit a pub for a hot cider before we visit your sworn enemy?”

Rumplestiltskin helped her to her feet. “Plenty of time for that later, now come! We should reach her palace by nightfall! We’ll need to be back at the castle by the morning for our appointment with the Hatter.”

Belle sighed as he began to walk on without her. Back to arm’s length, it would seem.

She adjusted her bag on her shoulders, striving to catch up to him as she paused in front of another ice sculpture.

This one seemed to be a mother holding their child to them closely, as if she were shielding them both from some unknown terror.

Belle gulped, looking at the others she had noticed earlier. They were all facing the same direction, fleeing from something.

“Belle?”

Belle hesitantly followed her employer, glancing around uneasily but thankful she couldn’t see the expressions on the sculptures faces.

It would seem the artist of these pieces had a twisted sense of humor, and something told her the Dark One knew more than he was letting on.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Belle nearly went blind at the site of the ice palace, the structure made from the whitest ice she’d ever seen.

She let Rumplestiltskin lead them in and she almost didn’t see the woman at the far end of the room stand to greet them.

“Rumplestiltskin,” the woman greeted evenly, and after blinking a few times Belle could make out the piecing blue of her eyes.

The Dark One stopped, causing Belle to nearly collide into him. She frowned as he bowed mockingly to the woman.

“You majesty,” he giggled. “You are the queen now, yes?”

“Watch it!” the woman seethed, stepping down from her pyramid of ice blocks to stand a few feet from him. “What do you want?”

“I want what you took from me,” Rumplestiltksin growled. “I want it back.”

“She is mine!” The Ice Queen seethed.

“The urn is my property, which makes the woman in it mine as well!”

Belle gasped. They were after a woman? A trapped woman?

The queen glared at him, the look making Belle shake from something much more deadly than the cold.

Suddenly, her eyes shot to Belle, and a sharp, queer smile spread across her face.

“And who is this?”

Rumplestiltskin stepped in front of Belle, shielding her from the hate-filled eyes.

“None of your concern,” he spat. “Now give me what I want.”

The Ice Queen’s smile seemed frozen in place, as if she could had turned into one of the ice sculptures in the village…

Wait…

Belle glanced around and noticed that there were dozens more. Some dressed like servants, carrying trays and flowers, like they had been active in their daily tasks…

And some of them looked like they were fleeing.

Belle’s heart stopped.

They had been.

“They’re alive…they were alive…” she gasped. “They’re people…”

Rumplestiltskin glanced back at her, swallowing a bit.

“You knew, didn’t you?” Belle seethed, but Rumplestiltskin shot around quickly.

“He’s one for surprises dear,” the Ice Queen said. “And treachery—“

“Enough,” Rumplestiltskin spat. “Give me what I came here for.”

“Very well, Dark One,” the Ice Queen agreed coolly. She waved her hand and a golden urn appeared in her hand.

“I’ll give you back your property,” she said, staring at the object with an odd sort of fondness.

And then to Belle with pure malice.

“But in exchange, I’m taking your little friend to add to my collection.”

In a flash, a white burst of magic shot from her hand, threating to collide with Belle.

Rumplestiltskin reacted before she could and shot around grabbed her, pulling her into his chest.

The magic hit him square in his back, causing a weak cry to leave his lungs as he fell to his knees.

Belle struggled to hold him up as she screamed, a patch of ice spreading quickly across his back.

“No, what…what’s going on?” She cried as she fell to her knees with him.

He convulsed violently, the darkness in him fighting off whatever spell she had thrown at him, but he could feel is slipping quickly into his darkened heart.

He squeezed Belle’s arm, the warmth of her skin the one thing that kept him from falling completely victim to the curse.

The Ice Queen cackled behind him and Rumplestiltskin gnashed his teeth in defiance.

“Not so high and mighty now, are you?” she cooed.

Belle glared at her, but before she could shout at the vile woman Rumplestiltskin wrapped his arms around her waist and magicked them out of the Ice Queen’s lair.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

They broke apart as soon as they soon as Rumplestiltskin magicked them to the mountain’s side. They were free of the wretched queen, but her icy environment was waiting for them, swallowing them in a heated coldness no one could imagine.

It fell’s like she land on hot needles, piercing every nerve in her body without ever breaking the skin.

She finally thought, her body adjusting to the pain as her brain tried to focus on her surroundings.

“R-r-rumple!” she called out, the angry winds blocking out her voice.

She wrapped her arms tightly around herself and drudged through the knee-deep snow, searching immediately for shelter of some sort.

If one thing from her childhood winters at Avonlea taught her it was that when caught in a storm, finding a heat source was the difference between freezing to death and living.

There was a cluster of rocks several yards from her, just visible thought the whirling ice. Her body was going numb already, but her sheer anger at Rumplestiltskin was keeping her going.

She knew he was dark, she’d accepted that, but she had also seen his more human side. She’d seen him show mercy and kindness to foes, so why couldn’t he extend such graces to the general public?

And then he just hid what was going on to her, after all they’d been through?

He was going to get it—

She gasped as she tripped over something hard. She gasped as she got a face full of hard snow and winced as she felt a bruise forming.

She growled and twisted around to see what had caused her fall and immediately recognized Rumpelstiltskin’s hard leather coat, his unflinching hand peeking out of the sleeve.

She struggled to crawl to his side and flip him onto his back.

“Rumple?” she yelled as she shook him. His eyes barely opened, staring hazily at her. She could feel him trembling even through the thick leather. Whatever the Snow Queen had done to him had made him very weak.

“Hey,” she said shaking him a bit. “What happened? What did she do?”

“Sp…spell…” he groaned so weakly Belle barely heard it.

She squinted around, estimating their distance from the rocks. She took a deep breath and began lift Rumplestiltskin up, slinging one of her shoulder as he groaned.

“We have to move,” she said. “Can you walk?”

She felt him faintly nod but got little effort out of him. She straightened her back and began pulling him in the direction of the rocks, praying a cave was clustered somewhere in the mess.

Rumplestiltskin was grumbling, his body going back and forth from heavy to light, signifying his inability to stay conscious.

Belle just pulled him tighter to her, dragging him with all her strength. She was losing steam fast but pure determination kept her going. That and keeping him alive so she could kick his arse later.

Thankfully there was an opening in the cave, and deep enough that it would shield them from the elements.

He began to come to again, his limbs twitching as he subconsciously tried to help her along.

Belle shushed him gently as she leaned him against the wall as she began to take off her overcoat and wrapped it around him.

“Hang on, okay?” she encouraged through chattering lips.

She felt along the walls of the cave, gliding one hand along the floor in search for wood or some kind of debris that could be burnt, but all she could find were a few sticks.

They needed warmth now or it wouldn’t be long until the both were goners.

She gathered what she could find a few feet in front of Rumple, frowning miserably.

She grabbed her bag and dumped its contents out, gulping when noted the only thing that could be used for a fire was her beloved copy of “Her Handsome Hero.”

The only thing she had from her dear, sweet mama.

Why did she think she’d have time to read on a mission?!

Rumplestiltskin made a quiet moan, easing in and out of an uncomfortable unconsciousness.

Neither one of them were going to last much longer at this rate. She was already getting so tired, hypothermia biting at her lips.

She looked at Rumple, her lips shaking, and not from the cold.

She lovingly placed her books on the ground, clashing to rocks together to get a spark going.

Hot tears slid down her cheeks as a spark caught onto one of the pages, so old from years of being passed down that the flames picked up instantly.

The warmth barely helped her feel accomplished, but the flames grew enough that they would have a moment of warmth before the chill set in once more.

She glanced at the Dark One in his fitful state, feeling a strange coldness fill her chest that she hadn’t felt since she first arrived at his castle.

“You did all this,” she whispered. “You brought us out here to face off with that awful woman, and now…” her lips began to shake as her grief began to overflow.

“And you kept it from me,” she sobbed. “You lied to me…even after everything we’ve been though.

Rumplestiltskin coughed, his eyes fluttering.

“…Belle?”

Belle moved around the small fire, easing to his side. She stared at him, trying to stay calm. He was injured after all, and she’d be on death’s door herself if he couldn’t magic them out.

“What’s happening to you?”

He struggled to sit up, a flickering blue light spreading over his chest.

“A spell,” he groaned, clutching his chest. “It freezes the target from the inside out…”

Belle tensed. “Are you—”

“No,” he chuckled weakly. “Such magic can’t kill the Dark One…” he gasped as another wave of cold threatened him. “No really. I’ll be fine…then I’ll get us out of here.”

Belle nodded, satisfied that he would be find.

But she was still angry.

“Did you know what she was doing to those people, what they were?”

“Belle…”

“Why didn’t you stop her!” Belle yelled. “You could have helped those people!”

“I’m not a hero Belle—”

“You don’t have to be a hero to do the right thing!”

Rumplestiltskin fell back, annoyance building through the pain.

“I don’t’ need to explain myself to you.”

Belle scoffed. “No I guess you don’t.” she moved away from him and began picking at the fire, trying to keep it lively with a few sticks.

He tried to remain calm, tried to focus all his energy and magic into fighting the damned curse that awful woman had cast on him.

But he was so cold. The spell wouldn’t kill him, but there was no doubt it would take days for it to wear off. The snow storm outside seemed to grow stronger, no doubt the Snow Queen’s doing to smite him out once and for all.

He glanced at Belle, frowning at her slouched shoulders. He didn’t like it when she was angry at him, but it was better to keep her at arm’s length.

He was a monster, she needed to realize that. It’d save her.

The heat from the small fire she had built had faded fast and the cave was freezing once more.

Belle rubbed her arms, her energy nearly depleted. She felt so tired, the frantic voice in the back of her mind screaming at her not to fall asleep.

Her mother’s book as a pile of smoky ash now and there was nothing left to burn.

She laid on her side, facing Rumple.

“I’m so tired,” she muttered, feeling her eyes grow heavy. Her body was so cold now she couldn’t even feel anything.

“Belle,” Rumplestiltskin muttered, turning his head, his heart racing when he saw she wasn’t moving.

“No, Belle!” he moaned, turning painfully on his side and crawling to her. “No, please don’t fall asleep!”

Belle moaned. “It’s okay…”

“No, Belle, look at me,” he reached out, taking hold of her chin. “Please stay awake. Yell at me, hit, just don’t fall asleep!”

She didn’t answer, and Rumple willed his magic to his limbs to give him more strength. He managed to sit up and pull Belle closer to him, her pulse a bare flutter under his fingers.

He snatched the coats she had laid on him off himself to cover her.

“Belle wake up…I’m sorry…I’m sorry for everything. For lying to you, to bringing you into this.” He mused her hair from her beautiful face, so peaceful.

“I just wanted to keep you safe.”

He leaned up to see the fire she attempted to build, recognizing the burnt paper flakes.

“Oh Belle, I’m so sorry,” he said as he rubbed at her arms over the jacket.

He recalled briefly — in another life —doing the same thing to keep his son warm.

In the very early mornings when the fire he’d set the night before had long gone out, his wee son would crawl into bed with him and they’d hold each other close until they warmed up.

The memory filled him with comfort and guilt, but also a very embarrassing idea.

With his magic doing its part, his skin had started to retain some of its warmth. If he and Belle were skin to skin…

He cringed at the thought. She’d be disgusted with him, but she wouldn’t be much of anything if she froze to death.

“Belle,” he whispered as his stiff fingers carefully began to open her shirt. “I’m going to try something I hope will save us both.” He averted his eyes from her pale skin as he undid his undershirt.

He reached out to tie their coats together, creating a sort of blanket for them.

As his heart pounded, he pulled Belle to his chest, his back against the storm, and entangled their legs, the heat between them slowly building.

“You’re going to be alright Belle,” he whispered into her hair, holding her close as he drifted into his own slumber.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Belle opened her eyes slowly, the cold that had soaked into her bones now gone. Her hand grazed upon something hard and textured, but not unpleasant to the touch.

It took her a moment to realize she was lying on someone, their legs tangled in a heated embrace.

It was quiet now, the storm now seized, and Belle could clearly make out the sound of the heartbeat pressed against her ear.

She eased back some, lifting her head to look at the sleeping face of her employer.

Her face further heated when she looked down to see their unclothed chests touching.

She croaked, sitting up to cover herself as their tied coats slid down to their waists.

Rumple stirred, opening his reptilian eyes. He tensed when he saw Belle staring at him, not necessarily in disgust but just in confusion.

“I…I um…” he stuttered, his body warmer than it’d been in over a day.

“You’re doing better,” she pointed out, not meeting his eyes. “The spell must have worn off.”

“Mostly, yes.” He concluded. “And it would seem as if we’re safe from the Snow Queen.”

“Good,” she nodded, looking around the calm cave until her eyes landed on their tied jackets.

“You saved us?”

The Dark One bristled, “I think you’re dehydrated.”

Belle smirked through her exhaustion. “Looks like you’ve got a bit of a hero in you after all.”

Rumplestiltskin groaned. “Very dehydrated.”

She shrugged. “I’m sure we can remedy that soon enough. Do you think you can get us out of here?”

Rumplestiltskin frowned. “I’m not sure. I used so much magic fighting off the curse.”

Belle nodded, glancing out the mouth of the cave into the snow. It was so beautiful after the storm, but the cold was still their worst enemy. Belle wasn’t sure if she was willing to strip down further tonight if they were out her another night.

Her heart leapt when she saw something – or someone – moving in the distance.

“Rumple,” Belle gasped. He was at her side in a second, glaring at the figure moving towards them.

“Is it the Snow Queen?”

“I don’t think so. Stay behind me.”

Belle did has he bade for his magic to return.

Whoever it was would be losing a large chunk of their necks if they tried to harm Belle.

The figure stepped in front of the cave, throwing back his hood with a bit too much flair.

Rumplestiltskin groaned. “Hatter.”

“Good to see you too!” Jefferson greeted.

“What are you doing here?”

Jefferson smirked. “You missed our appointment, and we got worried,” he pointed at Rumplestiltskin’s partially undone shirt. “But it looks liked it was for a good reason.”

The Dark One hissed and struggled to button his shirt while Belle eased to his side.

“We?”

Jefferson glanced back to reveal the mysterious Dr. Victor Frankenstein making his way up the steep mountain.

Belle gasped when she saw one of the ice sculptures – the dog – tied around his back.

“The next time you want to take a rendezvous, at least leave a note,” the doctor panted as he sat on a rock to rest.

“That’s not what happened!” Rumplestiltskin seethed.

Belle eased past him to greet Jefferson. “We’re both another hour away from hypothermia. Can you get us out of here?”

“Sure,” the hatter winked. “But I’ll have to make a couple of trips.”

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Belle and Rumplestiltskin huddled closely by the fire, they’re bodies warmed to the appropriate temperature.

They had yet to speak to each other, mainly because the doctor and the hatter would not leave them alone for a single second.

After giving Belle a quick checkup (Rumplestiltskin had forbade him to touch him, much to the doctor’s disappointment) Dr. Frankenstein had to work examining the frozen dog he’d confiscated from Arendelle, trying to chip off some kind of sample but failing miserably.

“That thing better not melt on my table!” Rumplestiltskin shot at the doctor.

“Fear not, Dark One,” the doctor sighed tiredly. “Your baubles are safe.”

Rumplestiltskin growled and turned back to the fire, sparing a glance at Belle.

He wanted to tell her so much, to thank her and apologize and anything he could so she didn’t look so cold when she looked at him.

Jefferson was sitting at a chair at the great table, his attention back and forth between the Dark One and his maid and the doctor.

This was…different. He knew of course that the most powerful sorcerer in the land had a soft spot for the bookish, clumsy heroine, but he hadn’t realized it was this intense.

Since Belle had come to stay with Rumplestiltskin, his visits had become less about business and more about company. He loved the playful bickering they shared, loved that his business acquaintance actually seemed happy.

Jefferson was a helpless romantic, yes, and right now the light of his interest was threatening to fall into shambles.

“Belle…” Rumplestiltskin began quietly to avoid scandal from the two men in the room.

She glanced his way but remained quiet.

“Thank you for what you did for me…”

Belle nodded, sipping her tea wordlessly.

“And…I’m sorry,”

Belle paused, as did the two spectators behind them.

“I didn’t mean to put you in danger or to lie to you,” He said. “And I’m sorry about your book.”

Belle lowered her cup, grief threatening to crush her.

“It was my mother’s, and the first book she ever read to me.” Belle said.

Rumplestiltskin smiled lightly but noticed the way her eyes were glassing over.

“The day the ogres attacked my home, I went back to get it,” she said. “By the time I got back to mother, the ogres had come. And then…”

Belle gulped and wiped the tear from her eye. “I thought for so long that if I had just left it behind, we could have gotten out sooner and maybe she’d alive. But then it was all I had left of her, the only reminder I had that there are heroes in this world and maybe I could be one.”

Rumplestiltskin nodded. “She’d be so proud of you, Belle.”

Belle scoffed.

“No, she would,” he assured. “You saved me, and made a grand sacrifice to do it. If that’s not a hero, I can’t imagine what is.”

Belle smiled, grateful. “And you saved me too. You can be a hero too Rumple, you just have to believe in yourself.”

Rumplestiltskin looked away, the weight of her words weighing into him.

Him, a hero…

The doctor cleared his voice, pulling them from their heart-to-heart.

“I think I might be able to make some progress on our friend here,” he said, placing a hand on the dog ice sculpture. “But I’ll need to take him back to my lab for further examination.”

Belle and Rumple rose to meet the doctor at the table, who handed them his stethoscope.

“Listen,” he instructed, placing the metal part to the dog’s chest.

Belle listened first, her eyes widening as she handed the device to Rumplestiltskin.

“It’s…”

“A heartbeat.” Rumple concluded, meeting Belle’s brilliant smile.

“They’re alive, it would seem,” the doctor theorized. “As to how to revert them to their original state I cannot yet conclude.”

“It’s magic,” the Dark One pointed out. “It’s not exactly something you can solve.”

The doctor glared at him, but Belle stepped in the way to keep a fight from breaking out.

“How about I make us all dinner,” she offered.

“Sounds good to me,” Jefferson chimed in, taking his legs off the table. “I saw some strawberries on the way in. I’ll make tarts!”

“You can cook?” Belle asked.

“…I can put things in a bowl.”

The doctor scoffed in disgust. “Cooking is a science, hatter. I’ll handle any baking.”

Belle and Jefferson exchanged an amused look before the lead the red-faced doctor to the kitchen.

She stopped just outside the entry way, turning to Rumplestiltskin who was watching them whimsically.

“Aren’t you coming?”

He nodded solemnly. “In a moment.”

Belle smiled, heading to the kitchen.

Rumplestiltskin sighed, gripping the edge of the table as he struggled to sort out his thoughts.

He cared for her. He’d known this for some time now, but now things had gotten much more serious.

He was falling for her, and he had no idea what to do.

He glanced over to her bag, now dry from its night soaking in snow. Glancing towards the kitchen, he grabbed the bag and sorted through its contents until he found the small unburnt corner of Her Handsome Hero.

In a flash he was in his tower and placed the piece in a bowl along a special ingredient: a small, magical silkworm he’d been saving to rebuilt series of ancient scrolls.

This was more important.

He placed it with the book and smiled as it immediately set to work. It’d be a few days until Belle’s book was fully restored, and he’d have to find a subtle way to surprise her with it.

But there would be time for all that, there’d be time for everything.

Satisfied, he turned away from the bowl, making his way down the tower stairs to join Belle and the others for dinner.

#rumbelle fic #rumbelle #rumbelle christmas in july #rcij #rcij 2020 #ryik's fics

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killingkueen · 4 years ago

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Much More Than This

Hello, hello, hello @mrs-stiltskin! Can you believe it’s me again???

Prompt: cats, dogs, books, opposites attract

Summary: Mr. Gold tries not to pay much attention to the new librarian and her husband. He tries very, very hard. He almost succeeds.

Rated very E

A/N The First: There is some very mellow m/m as well as some m/f/m, so keep an open mind. It’s also the first slash I’ve ever written—today is the day I became a fanfic author.

2A2N: I have never met a Scottish person in my life

Edited to add AO3 link

OOO

The sky was moody and grey. It hadn’t yet determined if that was because the sun hadn’t fully risen, or if it was a sign of rain. It didn’t matter to Mr. Gold, who parked his Cadillac behind his shop. He parked there everyday, after all. And every day he took his cane and his keys in hand, and opened his shop. Mr. Gold had a strict schedule, a strict routine. That was how he liked it.

At the back door, key out and ready to be slotted into the lock, Gold paused. There were boots sticking out of the bottom of his shop. Boots attached to two squirming legs, the toes digging into the ground for leverage. If he strained his ears, he could make out faint muttering, followed by a psspsspss.

Gold stared, baffled. The boots were old, but not shabby, and along the lines of what he’d seen the dock-workers wear. He didn’t think any of the men who worked there would have the nerve to—what, exactly? Was this a robbery? If it were, he’d give points for creativity.

Whatever he was doing, he was an unwelcome change to Gold’s routine. He had a shop to open. Gold lifted his cane, knocking the handle against the wood paneling of his shop, firm and loud. As he hoped, the man startled, a muffled thud accompanied with what was now cursing as his head hit the floor above him.

The man scrambled out, his limbs kicking up dirt as he backtracked.

Mr. Gold almost smiled. This was the most excitement he had seen in months.

“And just what do you think you’re doing underneath my shop, dearie?”

The man now stood on his knees. His eyes, widened in surprise, snapped to Gold’s face.

“Glasgo’!” he exclaimed. “Isnae this a shock! ”

Gold raised an eyebrow. Not many people in town much cared where he’d come from, and a good amount of them swore it was somewhere much warmer than Scotland. Glasgow was a dreary place full of nothing of value to him, and he couldn’t say he missed his homeland.

“From Scotland yourself?” Gold found himself asking.

“Aye, I grew up in the highlands in a wee toon near Inverness.” He brushed off the front of his jacket, dusty from crawling around in the dirt. “I thooght I was stuck wi' these Americans, ye ken.” His smile widened, thrilled at the chance meeting.

That still didn't give him the answer he wanted. “What are you doing under my shop?" he asked again. What was he doing in Storybrooke, for that matter? It was still too early in the season for tourists.

The man’s eyes were too wide for his face, and very expressive. They darted away, to the library across the street, and for just a moment he looked like a kid who’d been sent home with a note from the teacher. The library. Of course.

Gold had heard the new librarian arrived last week, having come all the way from—London, was it? The UK, at least. He remembered the name he’d read when he filed the contracts with the city council: Isabelle French. He had seen a second visa for the husband, though Gold couldn't recall reading the name. He would bet his current inventory he was looking at him.

“Mr. French,” Gold said, deciding he didn’t much care what the man’s name was. He relished the look of surprise that appeared on his face for the second time that morning. It made Gold feel more on balance, knowing things people didn’t expect him to. Much more regular, keeping the townsfolk on their toes.

“Och aye, that’s reit.” A smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. He half shrugged. “That’s me, innit.” His shoulders straightened with—pride, was it?

The man was thin, and the baggy clothes he wore only made him look smaller. Even on his knees, Gold could tell he wouldn’t stand any taller than himself, and tall was certainly not a word he could claim. His hair was shaggy but not quite to the point of being unkempt, and he needed a shave.

He also needed to know how things worked around here.

“Mr. French,” he said again, digging his cane into the ground. It was quite easy to look down his nose at him, when the man was already so far below him. “Just what were you doing under my shop?”

“Ah,” French blinked. “I havenae adjusted tae bein' haur yit. Jet lag, I’spose.” At Gold’s unamused expression, he hastened to add, “Sae, I was oot walkin' thes morn when I saw a moggie athwart th' causey. Puir hin' was injured. When I tried tae approach it, it ran under yer shop an' noo won’t come it.”

Gold was viscerally aware he hadn’t set foot in Scotland in nearly thirty years.

“There is a cat under my shop,” he surmised.

“Aye.” He stared up at him, brown eyes wide and waiting.

“What?“ Gold asked impatiently.

“You sound almost American,” French said around a half-smile.

That’s where they were, isn’t it? He pursed his lips. “How are you going to get the cat out, then?”

“If I had something tae wrap her in, I could pull her out safely, I think.” His eyes trailed to Gold’s throat and he knew what he was going to ask the moment before he did. “Do you mind if I knick your scarf?”

Yes, I absolutely do, Gold thought. He pulled the scarf from his throat, the cold air biting at his neck and collar bone, now bare. It was soft and wide, perfect for the early spring, and long enough to wrap around his neck twice and still dangle nicely. It annoyed him, probably more than it should, that it technically was perfect to wrap a cat in.

He held it out to French wordlessly.

“Cheers,” French said, disappearing under the wooden base, leaving Gold to stare at the heel of his boots once again.

Cane in hand, Gold waited.

French spoke in a low, even voice. Gold couldn’t make out what he was saying but it sounded comforting. Hopefully the cat agreed. After a few silent moments, Gold heard a terrible yowling, like a broken siren.

Making much slower progress than before, French inched his way from under the shop, the yowling becoming louder and louder.

“I suppose the noise is a good sign,” Gold said, voice raised over the beastie.

“She’s got a pair of lungs on her,” French agreed. He was smothered in dirt again, the knees of his jeans particularly dark.

He eased himself to his knees, rearranging the bundle in his arms so he had a much firmer grip before he carefully moved to his feet. The cat was wrapped quite securely in the scarf, enough so that Gold could only see a small tuft of dark fur peak through. He took it as further good news that he couldn’t see any obvious wet spots seeping into the fabric. Mr. Gold didn’t like blood.

After a long moment, French coughed. “Where tae now then?” He was cradling the cat like it was a child, holding it firmly to his chest. His hand rubbed circles against it’s back, which did nothing to silence the shrieking.

“You’re not bringing that mongrel inside,” Gold said.

“You dinnae look like much of a veterinarian,” French fired back.

Gold narrowed his eyes. Yes, it would be a vet he’d want. “Marian Hood owns a clinic that’s across the street from the elementary school.” She was known to be quite an early riser herself; chances were she was already inside her building, getting ready for the day.

French looked at him expectantly.

Sighing, he said, “Go north a few blocks and then take a left at the movie theatre. Once you reach Marco’s Woodworking, take another left. You’ll find it eventually.”

“Right. Thanks for the help, Mr. Gold.”

With that, the man turned to leave. Gold looked to the sky. It seemed to be settling on rain, after all. Hm. Gold wasn’t going to offer him a ride; the man had just been rolling around in the dirt. Besides, he had a shop to open.

“Mr. French,” he called, just as the man reached the sidewalk. “It’s too long to walk.”

“Oh,” he said, frowning. “But I don’t have a—”

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Gold started to limp to his caddy. “Get in before I change my mind, Mr. French,” he said, opening the passenger side door with no small amount of sarcastic grandeur.

The ride was broken only by the pathetic wailing of the poor creature, and the quieting shushing of the man who held her.

Gold would open his shop as soon as he dropped them off. Then his routine would be back to normal, and he’d again be ignorant to the existence of Mr. and Mrs. French.

OOO

The sunshine was bright through the windows of the pawn shop. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky when Mr. Gold opened for the day. Only blue skies could be seen through his shop windows when he heard the bell signal someone had opened his door.

Gold didn’t look up from his ledger. An air of aloof casualness always worked best as a starting point. They were the ones encroaching on his day, after all.

“I’ll be with you in a moment,” he said, making a mark that he would erase later as the sound of heels clicked across his floor. He didn’t look up when the clicking stopped in front of him at the counter. After a pause, a plastic bag was set down on the glass.

Something to pawn, then. Shame. He was almost in the mood to argue about rent. Gold’s eyes flickered up. Standing before him was a woman he’d never seen before. She was quite pretty. At least her profile was; she was currently scanning the shelves of their various glassware and bits and bobs.

“Do you have many books here?” She turned in a slow circle to take it all in.

“No.”

The woman looked at him. “There’s antiques here, too, right? It’s not just a pawn shop?”

“Books aren’t really what most people think of when they think of antiques.”

“No, because then they’re usually called first editions.”

The corner of his mouth lifted, and nodded his head slightly, conceding her point. “All the same. My apologies.” His regular buyers weren’t interested in books, and certainly no one in town was either.

“I suppose I’m surrounded by enough books, as it is,” she said, sighing.

Gold had a feeling he knew who this newcomer was. He should leave it alone. He had enough work to keep him busy.

“If you’re interested, I can ask my contacts. I know a person or two in the rare books trade.” He knew exactly no one but they’d be easy enough to track down.

She smiled, delighted surprise brightening her eyes. He had been mistaken before, calling her pretty.

“That’s so kind of you to offer. I’ll let you know.”

Mrs. Isabelle French, new head librarian of the Storybrooke Library, was beautiful.

He nodded, not trusting anything he could say to her. She smiled again. It felt like a bullet straight to his chest.

“Yes, well.” Her hand went to the bag, almost forgotten on the counter. “I’m afraid I’m actually here about a different matter. You no doubt know who I am already, but all the same: hello. My name is Belle French, and it’s nice to meet you.” She opened the bag, taking out a familiar scarf.

“I know it’s rude to return something without having it cleaned, especially over a week later and especially with how my husband absconded with it in the first place, but it’s a very fine material? And hand dyed, which of course you would already know.” She bit her lip. The previous surprise on her face had long since evaporated, leaving nothing but worry.

The scarf had been a gift from his son from when the lad had taken a school trip to Europe. Neal had bought it from a boutique he probably shouldn't have been in, proud to present his papa with something that met his high standards. The silk was lovely and soft. It was his favorite; the final thing he reached for when he left the house on chilly days. His son had given it to him, after all, which made it irreplaceable.

“It’s just a scarf, Mrs. French.”

He shook the fabric, wanting to see the full extent of the damage. Near the center were two dark patches, clotting the silk. And there, at the end of one side, was two more.

“The thing is, the lady at the dry cleaners wasn’t sure if it could be saved. We’re on a strict budget until I get paid, and with the surprise expense of emergency vet bills,” she risked a slightly ironic smile, “I can’t justify paying for a service that might not even work.”

“I was the one who gave it to your husband,” he reminded her. “He didn’t snatch it from me. I was under the impression the cat wasn’t yours.”

“She wasn’t.” Shrugging, she said, “She at least hasn’t been chipped nor reported missing. Rum can’t bear the thought of leaving her at the pound, and so it would seem we have a new roommate. And honestly, if we were going to pay for the cost of fixing her up, we might as well take her in. Rum always said he was a dog person through and through, but he’s thrilled we have her now. Honestly it’s worth the bill to see him this happy.”

Mrs. French shook her head, blushing at her rambling. “My point was, if you took the scarf to the dry cleaners yourself, or just bought a replacement, we’ll pay you back for it as soon as my first paycheck comes in.”

“That won’t be for two months, at least.” Government jobs were notoriously finicky when it came to billing cycles, and the town having what could be considered a minuscule government didn’t make the paperwork any less annoying.

“I’m happy to sign something.”

“It’s just a scarf,” Gold heard himself say again. “Don’t worry yourself.”

The woman opened and closed her hands, confused about the lifeline placed in front of her. No doubt she’d been regaled with stories of the cruel, evil landlord from the townsfolk. On a different day he’d be more than happy to meet her expectations. Perhaps he merely wanted to make a good first impression.

She finally seemed to settle on a smile, small and relieved. “As soon as I get the library open, be sure to come visit, alright? I’ll get you signed up for a card, free of charge.”

Was that a wink? Gold had always thought library cards were already free, but then again, the town had been without a library for as long as he’d lived in it.

“Perhaps.” With careful hands, he folded Neal’s scarf into an orderly rectangle. He knew a few tricks for cleaning silk. “Good day, Mrs. French.”

After only a moment of hesitation, the sound of her heels clicked out his door.

OOO

Gold decided the best thing to do was put the Frenchs out of his mind. Better yet, avoid them entirely, as it was clear he couldn’t be trusted around either of them.

That didn’t stop him from hearing things. For instance, Belle had moved to the UK from Australia with her father when she was in primary school. She’d met her husband when she was finishing up her master’s degree and coming off a particularly nasty breakup. As Gold heard it, things were fine until her husband was laid off and they had to move in with her father in London. Unhappy, she went looking for any job that would get them out. A head librarian position in middle of nowhere, Maine? Fine. Perfect. And wasn’t that something else, that they only officially married so he could come with her to her new job in America.

Most interestingly, Gold heard they would sometimes go to the diner for breakfast. The morning Gold walked into Granny’s, it wasn’t like he was expecting to see them, or anything. He just thought it was high time he became a patron of the most popular Storybrooke establishment. Support small business, that kind of thing.

“Glasgow,” he heard before the door had even closed behind him.

Mr. French was waving him over to the booth he shared with his wife, a wide grin on his face.

Gold was going to ignore him, of course. He was going to stare straight ahead and pretend he hadn’t heard.

“Mr. French,” he said, walking slowly over to them. “Good morning.”

“Mr. French?” his wife repeated slowly, raising an eyebrow.

A bashful smile Gold couldn’t explain appeared on French’s face. He shrugged at his wife helplessly.

“Join us for a wee bite, Glasgow? We huvnae ordered yet.” He gestured to the menus spread before them, as if Gold needed proof.

He frowned. He already let them off the hook for the scarf. It was mostly his own fault, after all, and he was nothing if not fair. They didn’t pay rent to him, either, since they were residing in the caretaker’s apartment. Moving across continents was expensive; perhaps they hadn’t budgeted enough for it, especially considering the paycheck problem. If that were the case, they could come to his shop and ask like everyone else.

“I only came in for a cup of coffee,” he demurred.

“Oh.” His face fell, like he was actually disappointed. “You can sit here with it, if you want.”

“If he doesn’t want to join us, we can’t make him, Mr. French.” The look on Belle’s face was unreadable as she stared at him over her mug.

“I liked the sound of it, alright?” His mouth pulled up at the corner. “If that’s what he wants to call me, I’m nae gonna stop him.”

She snorted, her own grin breaking free as she laughed.

Gold looked towards the counter forlornly. He was finding he did not have enough caffeine in his system yet. He supposed he could walk away and wait by the counter like everyone else did, but something kept him by the French’s table. Belle had a pretty laugh. Maybe that was it.

“Mr. French is my father,” she finally explained with an eye roll and shake of her head. “This ridiculous man is Robert McWeaver.”

“Nice tae meet you.”

“Apologies for assuming.” He should have paid more attention to the paperwork. It wasn’t like him, not to pay attention.

“You couldnae have known.” Robert McWeaver took a sip from his own mug. “What would you recommend, then?”

“What?”

“To eat. What’s good?”

Gold wouldn’t know. This was his first time stepping inside for anything other than rent.

“I’m getting the pancakes,” Belle said, eyes on the menu. “Rum’s leaning towards the full breakfast.”

“As close tae an English breakfast as I can get. They got one thing right, eh, the English?” He laughed at his own joke, mouth wide, the crows feet at his eyes giving him a distinguished, friendly look. Gold’s own just made him look old. With his loose clothes and easy smile, McWeaver was the definition of laid back, almost—cool. Someone people gravitated towards. Not that Gold knew anything about it.

But that was the most constant thing he’d heard, wasn’t it? With their wide smiles and kind eyes, it was no wonder how the townsfolk had adopted them so readily. Anyone would be lucky to be their friend, to share in their warmth.

“Take a seat,” Belle said, smiling. “We’ll put an order in, get you your coffee.”

God help him, he almost did just that.

What was with these two?

“Some other day,” he said, turning on his heel. “Ms. French, Mr. McWeaver.”

“We'll hold you to—“ the door latched shut cut off what they were about to say.

Brooding, Gold walked to his shop. Whatever those two were after, they weren’t getting it from him. Besides, there was no room in their happy lives for the heartless, asshole landlord. It was better for everyone if he left them alone. He had held himself apart from the rest of the town for years. That was how he liked it.

Not bothering to flip the sign, Gold went straight to the back, deciding to bury himself in polishing every piece of jewelry in the shop until the lot of it could power a solar panel.

He was working through his collection of wedding rings when the front door opened, bell jangling. A quick look at the clock told him he was supposed to have opened twenty minutes ago. Whatever happened to his routine?

Not bothering with his cane, he stood up and pushed the curtain aside. He promptly froze.

“Alright, Glasgow?”

“Mr. McWeaver,” Gold said, frowning at the nickname. He needed to say something before it became permanent. “Ms. French.”

“Call me Rum.” His smile was back, broad and open as ever.

Gold said nothing, just stood in between the doorway. He had expected to have more time before they came to deal. After his retreat that morning, perhaps they thought it best to get it over with.

“You, uh, left before ordering anything.” Belle placed a to-go cup and a bag down in front of him. “We got you a muffin, too, in case you get peckish.”

They stared at him expectantly. Only when their smiles started to dim did Gold manage to clear his throat.

“Thank you,” he offered.

“We weren’t sure how you liked your coffee, so we just got it black,” Belle said helpfully. “I hope that’s all right.”

Gold liked it with enough sugar to make his auntie's teeth pop out.

“Black is fine.”

He was rewarded with a smile.

“Well,” she said, rocking back on her heels. “We have a shipment of new books coming that I need to sign for, so we’ll get out of your hair. Have a great day, Mr. Gold.”

Before he could do more than nod a goodbye, they were out the door, the bell ringing after them. He watched as Rum reached out to take Belle’s hand. Gold watched as they reached the library doors and she dug through her purse one handed for the keys. Rum kissed her neck, and he couldn’t hear the squeal as she batted him away, but he could imagine it. They were like teenagers; blissfully happy and seemingly untouched by the real world.

Gold looked at his coffee, and saw the heat guard had fallen down. He opened the bag. The muffin was blueberry, his favorite.

Staying away from them would be best.

OOO

Gold soon developed a new routine. Every morning he’d stand by the front counter of his shop and wait for Belle and Rum to make their way to the diner. He never wanted to go himself, but something always convinced him; maybe if Belle’s dress was blue, or if Rum had his arm around her waist rather than looped through her own. Gold would watch until they were out of sight, then finish up whatever busy work he was doing. After locking the door to his shop he’d make his own way down the street.

When he got to Granny’s, he waited at the front so he could order coffee to go. At least he would, if he ever got that far. As soon as Gold was through the door, Rum would call out to him and insist he join their table. Belle and Rum were never ready to order anyway, which was just as well, as he liked to rest his leg before making the short walk back to his shop. And Gold was finding he quite liked the breakfast spread.

So it went in the mornings. Gold knew sometimes they ate dinner there as well, but there was no pattern to when they went and Gold hadn’t run into them on the night’s he popped in, for rent or otherwise.

Currently, Gold had already walked through the door. He was waiting at the front, by the register. Rum usually noticed him by now. He tapped the handle of his cane. The front bar was white and shiny, as it always was. The glasses behind, stacked and waiting for the waitresses to fill them up, all glistened.

Gold shot a glance at their table. Rum was facing him, his elbows on the table, head in his hands, his face rapt as he listened to whatever Belle was saying. He nodded once or twice.

Gold frowned. He wondered what she was saying. Last week, after stumbling on a story about World War I soldiers and how they bonded over their trauma, she had gone on a tangent of medics and the first studies of shell shock. The time before, how cigars were made. It was no wonder Rum hadn't noticed his entrance if Belle was talking about her current passion. She could have anyone riveted with as little as a sigh.

He stepped aside as one of the tables finished up and left, passing him on their way out. This wasn’t part of the routine. Gold was never supposed to actually order coffee to go.

He had overstepped, that was it. They had likely seen him walk in, but hadn’t said anything in the hopes he left without intruding. He could leave them alone for a single morning to enjoy breakfast as a married couple, for once. Did that mean they didn’t want him there anymore? Maybe they were both too nice to say it to his face, and were waiting for him to take the hint instead.

Gold glared at the cups, standing pristine along the wall, as if he could intimidate them into giving him answers.

That was how Ruby found him when she came out of the kitchen, finally.

“Mr. Gold,” she greeted. “Are you going to sit down?”

He ignored her.

From the corner of his eye, he saw her look at Rum and Belle’s table, then back at him. She rolled her eyes.

“Granny,” she bellowed behind her, causing Gold to jump. “Has the special been updated? Like, on the board?”

“I wrote it last night,” Granny yelled back, muffled by the distance.

“Alright.” Ruby’s eyes were on him, something smug and knowing in their depths.

“Glasgow!”

Attention grabbed by Ruby, Rum finally looked up toward the counter to where Gold was brooding.

“You’re late today,” he called with a frown. “Everything all right?”

Ruby snorted. Gold shot her a glare which she promptly ignored.

“Take a seat, Mr. Gold,” she said with a bright smile. “I’ll get started on drinks.”

Rum was still staring at him, eyes overwide and welcoming. He had such an expressive face, so open, so telling, so. Gold wondered what he’d look like below him, panting and wanton.

When Gold continued to stand there, Belle turned as well, looking over her shoulder. Her hair was down today, the sheek brown curls cascading down her back. His fingers itched with his want to bury them in her hair, cradle her head while he kissed her.

These were not new thoughts; they had always been there, just below the surface. He swallowed, trying to bury his feelings deep in his stomach, keeping them from sight.

With numb feet, he limped to the table. Belle scooted to the side, making room for him to slide next to her. He liked the mornings he sat next to Belle; he could smell her perfume, light and floral like roses. And Gold liked when he was facing Rum; half the fun of listening to Belle was watching her husband.

“We havenae ordered yet,” he was saying now, folding his arms on the table and leaning forward. “Just waitin’ for you.”

They were too sweet for him. All this time, Gold was pretending it was just good timing on his part. Oh, but it hurt his heart, to be expected.

“Sorry for the delay,” he said quietly.

“It’s no problem at all.” Belle bumped him with her shoulder. The heat of her burned. “I was just regaling Rum about a new book Ariel recommended, about Octopuses, of all things.”

“Calling them ‘octopi’ is wrong, apparently,” Rum said. “And they have three hearts. And,” he sat up straighter, taking his arms off the table when he spotted Ruby approaching from the kitchen. “And, they remember their handlers, and especially the grudges they hold against each of them.”

“How about we order, and then we’ll catch you up to speed,” she teased.

“I would love nothing more,” he said. He meant every word, from the bottom of his decrepit heart.

OOO

When Gold told himself he had to stay away from them, he meant it. It was Belle and Rum who didn’t seem to get the memo. And okay, maybe he had developed a taste for Granny’s coffee.

At least he could admit to himself now that he didn’t want to stay away. The chance that they felt as deeply for him as he did for them was impossible, the thought of them willingly taking him into their bed was unthinkable. But he could have their friendship. If their mornings together in the diner was all he had of them, he’d cherish that time fiercely.

Seeing one of them alone wasn’t something that happened often, though. Yet here Rum was, no sign of his wife in sight, fidgeting in his shop as if he were a stranger.

“What are you doing here?” Gold asked.

“What, am I not allowed?”

His accent had mellowed in the couple months he’d been in town, through necessity if nothing else. It was a continued source of amusement for Belle that their accents thickened whenever they talked to each other.

Gold put down his pen. He was going through a list of items from an estate sale down south, but that could wait. Spreading his arms across his counter, he gave Rum his full attention, patiently waiting for him to get to the point, or leave. He was used to these sorts of games. Usually he could guess what the other player wanted, though.

Gold would have thought if they wanted something from him they would have asked a long time ago, but situations changed. He hadn’t heard of Rum rescuing any more wayward animals.

Rum’s full attention was currently on the paintings that hung on the wall behind him. Perhaps it was about his pride.

“Do you need a job?” Gold asked.

That surprised Rum enough to make him look over. “A job?” he asked, frowning.

“You don’t work,” Gold pointed out. He knew what Belle’s salary was. It was enough to sustain a two person household, but barely. He couldn’t imagine there was any left at the end of the month to for savings.

“Legally, I can’t. Couldnae get a work visa. Figured it was lucky enough Belle wanted me to come with her at all.” He shrugged. “If it comes to it, I’ll wash dishes at Granny’s. Said she’d pay me under the table.”

“I see.”

“I like not working, to be honest. I’m good at being a house husband.” He flashed a crooked smile, but there something hesitant in it, like he expected derision.

“That so?”

Rum wandered closer, leaning his hip against the counter. “Yeah. I like being able to make a home for Belle. It’s a great feeling, when she comes back to a tidy apartment and a warm meal.”

An image of Rum in a retro house dress, makeup neat and apron pressed, flashed in his mind. Better to focus on that then the stab between his ribs, knowing he was going to a cold, empty house devoid of Rum and Belle’s warmth.

“Now that’s an idea, innit?” Rum perked up, eyes expectant.

For a second, Gold was worried he had spoken aloud. “What is?”

“Dinner. I’m a good cook. Come and try it.”

Gold barked a laugh. Of all the things for him to suggest.

Rum looked down, his smile fading quickly. “It was just an idea,” he mumbled.

Afraid he’d leave, Gold reached out, grabbing his hand where he lay on the counter.

“I thought you were going to ask me for money,” he tried to explain. “Or some other sort of deal.”

Rum looked at their hands. He flexed his, but didn’t pull away. “Uh, right. Makes sense.” He straightened. “So, dinner? You’ll come?”

“Of course. When were you thinking?”

He shrugged. “Tonight, tomorrow. When—Friday!” Rum shouted, tugging his hand like an electrical current had gone through them. “Come Friday.”

“Okay,” he agreed, bemused.

“Just, uh, you open later on Saturdays? And Belle does too, at the library. Friday is best.”

“Expecting a late night?”

His eyes widened, brows drawing together. “Maybe? You know, just in case.”

“I’ll bring the wine,” Gold said after a pause.

“That would be perfect.” This time when Rum smiled, it looked genuine. “It’s a date.”

OOO

He had chosen a rosé. He hadn’t asked much about what Rum was planning on serving, wanting to be surprised. And rosés paired nicely with all most things..

With one final brush down the front of his suit, he knocked on the apartment door. Seconds later it opened, revealing Belle wearing a bright dress and a brighter smile.

For a moment he was struck mute, words lost as he stared at her. She was so lovely.

“Come in, come in,” she said, not seeming to notice his state. She reached out for him, sliding her hand along his back as she guided him inside. “I’m so glad you could make it.”

The apartment was small, but cozy. The living room was big enough to accommodate a TV and a sofa, and to the left a dining table with four chairs, but not much else. Not that it kept Belle from piling books on every conceivable surface, including the floor along the walls. Gold couldn’t help but smile at that. Everything was neat and tidy, excepting the books. A perfect home, all things considered.

Rum poked his head out of the kitchen. “Hey, Glasgow,” he called. “Make yourself comfortable.”

He hadn’t been too far off when he imagined the apron. “Smells good,” he said, not having anything better to say. And it did, the heady aroma or sizzling meat and spices heavy in the air. It would seem Rum hadn’t been exaggerating when he said he was good at this.

“I hope you like it. Should be ready soon.” He disappeared into the kitchen.

Gold felt Belle’s arm tighten around him. When he looked, there was a small smile playing on her lips.

“Yes?” he asked.

“Nothing.” She gave him a final squeeze before letting go. She took the bottle of wine from him before walking to the table. “He wants to impress you. We both do.”

That warmed him up from the inside in a way he chose not to examine too closely right then. “That right? You cook, too?”

“God, no. But I am the master of doing dishes.”

They were interrupted by a meow, coming from the ground.

“Hello again,” he said to their roommate. “You’re looking well.” He had never gotten a good look at the cat when Rum rescued her from beneath his shop. She was a handsome creature, a long-haired tuxedo. She looked completely healed, and would have looked completely normal too, had it not been for a missing eye. The socket was closed, and almost unnoticeable if it weren’t for the brilliant blue of her other eye.

That one eye blinked up at him. She mewled again before turning around, and he expected her to stalk off. Instead, she sat on his shoes. She weighed as much as a sack of feathers.

“You can’t have him, too,” Belle said.

The cat started to purr. Apparently, she thought otherwise.

Belle shook her head. “She’s intent on stealing all the men in my life, I swear.”

Gold wasn’t sure what to say to that. “What’s her name?” He asked. That was safe.

“Oh you’ll like this,” Belle said with a conspiratorial smile. “We named her Forte, on account of her looking like a music sheet, and being quite loud when she wants to be.”

“Aye, I remember. Fortan means luck in Gaelic,” Gold offered.

“Yes! Rum was quite proud of that. He can’t usually think of puns.”

Gold shifted, lifting up a foot experimentally. Forte ignored the hint.

Fine, then.

When he looked at Belle, she was staring at him, biting her lip.

“What?”

She shook her head. “I’m happy you’re here.”

Gold managed a nod. “I’m happy I’m here, too.” He tried to flash a smile. He hoped she didn’t mistake it for a grimace.

“Good.” Her gaze was intense, scorching.

Unable to bear it, he looked down at the cat, still on his feet. Her tail brushed his legs. He heard a timer go off.

“Belle,” Rum called. “Can I have a hand?”

“Take a seat, if she’ll let you go, the little monster,” Belle said cheerfully.

“I’ll pour the wine,” he said.

She shot a smile over her shoulder, disappearing into the kitchen.

He lifted his foot again, and Forte accepted he was serious this time. She slunk over to the couch, jumping up to the cushion gracefully before plopping down.

Gold had just filled the final wine glass when Belle came back. She set a basket of dinner rolls on the table, along with a bowl of salad. “He wanted to make buttered cabbage,” Belle said. “Apparently it’s a good side dish for this in Scotland, but I put my foot down.”

“Thank God for you, Belle French.” He pulled her chair out for her, making sure she was quite settled before taking his own seat.

Rum chose that moment to appear, dish in hand. He set it proudly in the center of the table, removing the foil with a flourish. All Gold could see was a white top,even except where a fork had been run through to create a swirling effect. The peaks were a crispy, golden brown.

“Shepherd's pie,” Rum announced. “Though I couldn’t get lamb on such short notice, so it’s actually cottage pie.” He shrugged. “Still good, I hope.”

“Still good,” Gold agreed, feeling his mouth water. Sizzling ground beef, cooked with onions, peas and carrots, drenched in a rich brown gravy. Then topped with a thick layer of creamy, buttery mashed potatoes. He hadn’t had it in years.

Rum was indeed a good cook. He scraped his plate clean, full from having second helpings.

“Was there something specific you had in mind for after dinner?” Gold asked, taking a sip of wine. The bottle was empty; an easy thing to do when split between three people.

Belle and Rum shared a look. “What do you mean?” Belle asked.

“Rum mentioned a late night. I assumed that meant board games. You seem the type,” he said warmly. Gold had been looking forward to it, honestly. He hadn’t played anything of the sort since before Neal moved out. “Something tells me you’d make a worthy opponent at Scrabble,” he said to Belle.

Belle shot her husband a look, who was looking intently at his wine glass. “He told me he had lost his nerve.”

“Sorry?” His heart stopped in his chest. This wasn’t supposed to be about a deal. That’s what Rum had said.

She seemed to read the disappointment in his face. “My husband and I owe you nothing of monetary value, Gold. We have no intention of changing this.”

“All I can offer are things of monetary value.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Rum muttered, staring at the legs of wine as they cascaded down his glass.

Belle cleared her throat. “I do actually have Scrabble, somewhere. And we have a deck of cards. If you’d like, we can certainly find a game to play. But we were thinking of a group activity of a different nature,” she said, licking her lips. His eyes followed the path of her tongue, and she smiled, wide and sultry.

“Ah?” His brain short-circuited. She couldn’t be implying what he thought she was. He looked to Rum for help, but he was staring at his wine as if trying to boil it with his mind.

Belle took pity on him. “Join us for a night.”

“A night.”

She nodded.

“Of sex.”

Another nod.

“Only one?” He asked before he could stop himself.

That got Rum’s attention. His head shot up, and he put his glass down with more force than necessary, almost knocking it over. The beginnings of a crooked smile played on his lips.

“Doesnae have to be.”

“Let’s see how we like it, first,” Belle said reasonably.

Gold didn’t ask why, out of every other sorry bastard in this town, they chose him. He didn’t question their taste or their eyesight. Instead, Gold nodded. Yes, a night with them was everything he had ever wanted.

Belle swallowed the last of her wine, head thrown back as she drained her glass. Gold followed the line of her throat as she swallowed, finally feeling like he was allowed to look.

“Leave the dishes,” she said to Rum. She scooted her chair back, holding out her hands to them. “And let’s go to bed.”

OOO

From there, it was easy.

Gold followed them into their bedroom, Rum being careful to shut the door behind them so Forte couldn’t get in to interrupt. The room was just as tidy as the rest of the apartment, with stacks of books on every conceivable surface. The bed was queen size, and he liked the thought of them three of them sharing the space. He hoped they’d let him stay for a while, after.

Rum cleared his throat, drawing Gold’s attention.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked, quiet, almost shy.

Gold licked his lips.

“Yes.”

Before he could blink, Rum’s hands were on either side of his face, his thumbs brushing his cheek bones before his mouth collided with his. He started sucking on his bottom lip, causing Gold to whimper. Rum’s hand slid up, brushing through his short hair while the other ran along the back of his neck before settling in the space just above his collar bone.

Gold’s own hands were clutching the sides of Rum’s baggy shirt, pulling him closer and closer. As his tongue pushed past his lips, one hand cradled his jaw, turning his head slightly so he could push inside for a deeper kiss. Rum moaned happily, trying to suck on his tongue.

When they finally broke apart for air, Belle grabbed his head, turning it so she could kiss him deeply next. He leaned into her, almost stumbling before catching himself on her shoulder. Expecting the fabric of her dress, he was met with her bare skin. Gold broke the kiss so he could see.

While Gold and Rum had been busy necking, Belle had taken the time to undress. All she wore now was her lingerie, the dark blue silk making her skin almost glow.

If Gold hadn’t been hard already, seeing her chest, her belly, her legs, would have undone him completely.

“Oh,” he breathed. He kissed her again, feeling her smile. She undid his tie, then started to unbutton his shirt, slowly leading him to the bed. Gold didn’t have his cane, he couldn’t remember where he had left it, but it didn’t matter with Belle and Rum there to guide him forward.

When he was laying down on the bed, Belle kissed him again, pushing his back into the comforter as her mouth ravaged him.

He lifted his hips so Rum could pull off his trousers, then socks, and Belle finally got him to shrug out of his shirt. She eyed his chest hungrily, like he was dessert.

Belle went for his throat then, sucking and licking the skin there. He moaned as she worked lower, nibbling across his collar bone. Gold’s hands reached for her, wanting to fill his hands with her creamy skin.

“No touching,” Belle decided, giggling as she grabbed his arms, pinning them to his sides. She lightly bit his nipple, the breath of her laugh skimming over his wet chest as he gave a jolt.

Rum kissed his hip bone, before taking off his boxers. Then he was bare and achingly hard. Now free of all his clothes, splayed on his back, there was no friction, no barrier, to keep him sane. Just consistent, blazing want.

“Rum,” he groaned as Belle continued to kiss, lick and bite his chest. “Please.”

Rum shrugged out of his own shirt, was undoing the zipper on his jeans. Gold watched them fall to the floor before he stepped out of them. His eyes came up to settle on Rum’s bulge.

“Please,” he said again, voice hoarse.

Rum made eye contact. His eyes jumped to Gold’s cock, bobbing and thick. Then his hands were on the inside of Gold’s thighs, pushing his legs apart so he could settle between them. Gold saw a flash of his pink tongue before his mouth had swallowed his cock whole.

Gold yelped, his hips jerking upwards sharply. Instead of gagging (Gold had an apology already at the ready), Rum groaned. He pulled back so he could suck the head, then swallowed him down again.

Rum moaned blissfully around him, hallowing his cheeks as he sucked. Gold whimpered, desperately trying to keep his hips still. But fuck, he was good at this. After a few minutes of bobbing on his cock, Rum swallowed, taking him deeper until he hit the back of his throat and his nose was pressed to his pubic bone.

Gold grit his teeth, not wanting to come yet. But it was hard, impossibly hard, when Rum’s mouth was so hot, so good. When Belle’s hands were skimming up and down his sides, tortiously slow.

She looked down at her husband, hungrily sucking Gold off. Her eyes were blown out completely, and she wet her lips. Almost absently, she pinched Gold’s nipple. He whined high in his throat.

“He’s so good with his mouth, isn’t he?” she said, voice low. “God, that tongue.”

Gold could only whine, and keep whining as Rum sucked harder.

“I’m there,” he tried to warn him. “Fuck, Rum, I’m—“

Rum pulled back, but he kept the head in his mouth and used his hand to wank him off. Gold came across his tongue, panting. Closing his eyes, he sunk further into the soft bed, trying to catch his breath.

“Save any for me?” He heard Belle ask.

“Sorry, love,” he said, and Gold heard a smacking of lips.

“No, you’re not.” They kissed. Belle moaned; she could taste Gold on his tongue. Fuck.

“You can have him for round two.” Rum rubbed his thighs, using them for balance as he leaned forward and gave another kiss to Gold’s hip bone.

“I’m holding you to that.”

There was the soft sound of fabric gliding against skin. Gold felt the bed shift as Belle straddled his hips, legs on either side of his thighs. He opened his eyes when Belle kissed him; she was gloriously bare. His arms wound around her shoulders, a hand burying in her hair, keeping her in place.

He expected Rum to come close, but instead he backed off. Instead, he moved behind Belle. Gold felt a wave of molten heat go through him at the thought of Belle being fucked by her husband while she lay over him, panting in his ear as she took it deep and hard.

Wanting to entice Rum, Gold ran his hands down her soft sides, over her rump. He gripped her where her arse cheeks met her leg, his pinky and ring finger over her cunt lips, and he held her open, on display. She was already so wet, he had to let go so he could get a better grip.

Belle hummed, pushing her breasts into his chest and sticking her arse up, giving her husband a better view.

“Like this, Gold?” she asked, sucking on his neck. He hoped she left a mark.

“Fuck,” Rum breathed, his eyes drawn to her open cunt. “Oh, Gold, if only you had this view.”

“Describe it to me,” Gold said.

“She’s so wet and pink. Fuck, Belle.”

Her breath caught, and she pushed her arse back. Gold guessed Rum was using his fingers on her.

“You’re so wet. Did you like that, watching us?”

“Of course.” She wiggled, spreading her legs wider, bringing her knees up as best she could. Gold spread his legs again, too, helping to keep her open. “You two look amazing together. So beautiful.”

“What else?” Gold asked. He felt fingers skim from Belle’s thighs to his. Rum cupped his balls. He gasped, feeling a thumb press into his perineum, then down to circle around his anus, before coming back up.

“And here’s you, all spent. I did that. You taste so good, Gold. I want to suck you again.”

Gold moaned as Rum pressed his soft cock against Belle’s heat. She was ready and wet and perfect.

“Fuck, I can’t wait for you to get hard.”

Belle whined, trying to get the angle right to move her clit against Gold’s pelvis. “You said I got him next.”

Rum laughed. He let go of Gold so he could run his hands over the back of Belle’s thighs. “I did. Do you want to fuck her, Gold?”

He hissed an affirmative, hands leaving imprints where they still held Belle open.

“Should we wait, Belle? Let him have you first?”

“No, God! Rum! I need it now,” she begged, wiggling. “Fuck me now.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “Yeah, I’ll fuck you.” He let go, eyes turning a bit more critical so he could figure out the position. “Close your legs, Gold, so I can fit,” he ordered, softly. Gold happily acquiesced, and he watched as Rum settled behind Belle, his knees pressing into the bed in between theirs.

Slowly, he guided his cock into his wife.

Gold let go of her arse, hand moving to tip her head up, searching for her eyes. “Look at me,” he murmured, wanting to see the moment she was filled up.

Belle bit her lip in bliss. Her eyes widened slightly when Rum bottomed out. He leaned forward so he could kiss her shoulder, giving them both time to adjust to the position.

“Good?” Rum asked.

She shuddered when she pushed her hips back into his, her clit sliding along Gold’s pelvis beautifully. “Oh, that’s perfect,” she breathed, eyes locked onto his.

“I’m not going to last,” her husband warned, pulling back before fucking into her.

Belle moaned, grinding onto Gold as she leaned into her husband’s thrusting hips. “Neither will I.”

One hand in her hair, the other gripping her upper arm, Gold held his breath as he watched her. She was stunning, her cheeks flushed, and her eyes clouded over with lust.

“Are you going to come, Belle?” Gold asked her. “Does he feel good inside you? Fuck, I bet he feels so good.”

Belle could barely nod. “Deep. Hard,” she panted. “Almost there.”

Her breath caught, and she clenched hard on Rum’s cock, slamming back against him, then stilling. Her orgasm triggered his, and with a grunt, he emptied inside her, hips stuttering.

Gold pulled her down for a kiss, and she went happily, boneless and sated. Once Rum caught his breath, he pulled out, flopping down beside Gold with a sigh.

Belle tucked herself against Gold’s chest, watching her husband cool down beside them.

The silence that fell on them was easy and soft, broken only by the occasional pawing of Forte at the door.

When she mewled, Rum looked up, and it seemed like he might let her in.

“Not yet,” Belle said. “I was promised round two.”

She pushed herself up, looking down so she could see where she had been rubbing herself against Gold’s pelvis. Rum’s spend seeped out of her, slicking her way.

“Fuck,” Gold breathed, unable to tear his eyes away.

It didn’t take much longer for Gold to harden again, helped by Belle’s skillful hand. She wasted no time in mounting him. She slid all the way down his shaft. She pumped her hips, delighted at feeling him so deep.

She was so wet; so hot and wet and already filled with cum and it was a good thing Gold had climaxed once already because he wasn’t sure how he would have lasted otherwise.

As it was, he was happy to watch as Belle took him for a ride. Gold’s attention was quickly drawn to her breasts, and he watched them bounce up and down. He wanted to suckle them, feel their weight in his hands. He hadn’t paid nearly enough attention to that part of her yet.

Rum moved so his head was laying on his chest, fingers circling one of Gold’s nipples as his eyes were glued to the area Belle and him were connected. As Belle moved up and down, Rum began to kiss and nip at Gold’s pecks, then his rib cage, his abdomen. He circled his tongue inside Gold’s belly button, making his stomach clench and his hips jolt. Belle’s moving hips kept him from being able to go down any further, and he sweetly got her attention.

“Lean back a little,” he requested.

That meant she stopped moving against him, and Gold moaned in protest.

“Like this?” She was spread open again, thighs wide, hands supporting her weight where they rested on either side of Gold’s legs.

“Exactly like that.” Rum latched onto her clit and sucked. She gasped, hips bucking hard against Gold’s cock.

“Fuck, Rum,” she said, clenching.

They set up a new rhythm. Belle worked herself up and down Gold’s cock while Rum sucked at the base of him, and Gold did his best not to utterly combust. Belle ground down when she got to the bottom, and Rum’s tongue flicked up to meet her.

The closer she got to finishing, the closer she stayed, and soon all she was doing was grinding back and forth on his cock, Rum latched to her clit.

Gold’s legs spread in answer to Rum’s searching hand; he felt it close around his balls and his hips jolted in response. Fuck, but that was heaven; Belle riding his cock while Rum played with him like he was a pair of ben wa balls. He moaned, low and deep and long, when Rum tugged them down, then up against the base of him, squeezing.

His hands gripped Belle’s hips tightly as he held her against him and emptied himself into her. He couldn't even moan; she’d taken the breath straight from his lungs.

With a final but heartfelt, “fuck,” Belle clenched, thighs shaking in aftershock. Gold would forever remember the blissful smile on her face as she came on his cock.

Before she could fall over, and it looked like she might, the poor lamb—Rum was there to wrap her in his arms, and help her down. Rum pulled down the comforter with no help from them, but soon enough, they settled into bed, curled into the sheets on either side of Gold. Rum kissed his neck below his ear, entwining their legs as Belle happily murmured into his chest.

“Do you need another one?” Gold asked into Rum’s hair.

He felt the smile against his neck. “I already have everything I need.”

Gold was still boneless when he finally looked at the clock; it was late but not terribly so.

“When do you want me to leave?” He didn’t want to ask, but felt he should. Besides, he didn’t think he could manage a round three. He could barely keep his eyes open, and he felt satisfied and content in a way he hadn’t in years.

Rum mumbled something unintelligible, legs tightening around Gold’s, face pressed harder against his shoulder.

“Don’t leave,” Belle murmured, moving closer herself. She blindly tried to kiss his cheek and missed. “In the morning, Rum will make tomato on toast.”

“Oh. Okay,” he said, not needing to be convinced.

In the morning, he’d wake to Forte’s tail flicking in his face and Belle wearing his shirt, Rum still curled into his side, but for now he was content to sink into sleep.

#rcij #rumbelle fic #Rumbelle Christmas in July

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avatoh · 4 years ago

Text

RCIJ: Swimming in Summer

Hello @ryik-the-writer it’s me! Late-o santa!

@rumbellechristmasinjuly

Prompt: I don’t think he’s moving

Summary: Mr. Gold takes his son to the pool during the summer for fun. Belle, the lifeguard, saves his son’s life one fateful day leaving Gold in her debt.

Swimming in Summer:

“I don’t think he’s moving,” said Baelfire to his friend, Emma, as he poked at his sleeping father with a large pool noodle. “He could be dead.”

“Really?” Emma said in as sarcastic a tone as a small 10 year old girl could manage.

“Yeah,” Neal said, walking closer to his papa and pulling funny faces, increasingly getting closer to his father’s sleeping figure. “I think he’s done for.”

Emma rolled her eyes as Neal poked more at his pool-side lounging father. Neal flicked a bit of water his father’s way and was met with an unconscious grunt of disapproval that caused the boy to burst out laughing. His father still didn't wake.

“Oh, wow,” Baelfire whispered to himself, going slightly concerned. “Papa?” he said in a louder tone. “Papa, wake up!”

He was met with his father jolting awake, the glasses on his reclined nose falling off.

“What is it?” Gold hissed.

“Nothing. Just keeping you on your toes,” Neal said as he ran away, jumping back into the pool with a noisy and wet ‘splash’.

Gold was awake now. He had somehow fallen asleep in the warm sun at the poolside. The days were hot and the usually adequate temperature town of Storybrooke was now in the middle of an intense summer heat wave. He himself couldn’t even bear his usual 3 piece suit and had limited his own poolside dress to either a suit vest or a ¾ sleeve button up: it was that hot.

School was out, there was no need for his son to go to summer school and due to the smallness of the town there weren't many summer programs. So, most of the days, Gold took his son to the public pool at the town’s rec center to get his energy out and to cool down. There were a few things that he as an adult could do, but most days he just brought a book and read while his son splashed in the water with his friends. Besides, he didn’t trust others like Miss French, the lifeguard, to be in charge of the safety of his son when she had about 60 others to watch over.

He knew that soon enough, he was going to have to relinquish some of his control and trust his son to make smart decisions for himself. But for now, gazing up from his book every now and then to make sure he saw his son’s head floating above the water put him at ease.

Currently, his son’s favorite thing to do was doing fancy dives off the diving boards and had just discovered the tallest one in the deep end of the diving pool wasn’t as scary as it had been to him the previous year. He was proud of his son overcoming his fear but often had to tell him to be a bit more careful about running and how he was jumping. Even the lifeguard, who he thought so incompetent, had blown her whistle at his son a few times for running near the diving board. At least she had noticed that.

Baelfire was approaching the line for the diving board while he opened his book back up and continued reading where he left off. A few minutes later he heard the distinct yelp of his son followed by a weak splash of water.

Gold knew his son’s screams well, and he could usually distinguish a happy yell from an upset yell. The one that he had just heard hadn’t been a good one. He threw his book aside in a panicked manner, already knowing that something terrible had happened. Before he could even see what had happened to his son and get over to him, he saw the lifeguard, Belle French, jump off the lifeguard station and leap into the water. He rushed over to the diving area in a panic and looked into the water below. It looked like nothing. He couldn’t make out anyone under the rippling water, but he could tell that something had happened as the people in the pool were hanging onto the sides or frozen in their spot. A foggy pinkness appeared from under the deep water, followed by his son and Miss French emerging from the depths. Gold teetered on the edge of the pool, half wanting to leap in and help pull his son in and half not wanting to get in Miss French’s way and hindering her any further.

His son was pulled to safety and Gold helped pull his son out of the water. He tried to hold onto his son, who seemed unresponsive, but got pushed away from Miss French with a shove that made his unstable body buckle.

“Hey-”

The lifeguard was checking on his son and started to give him CPR. Oh, that’s why he had been shoved away, he had realized. She was trying to save his son. Baelfire looked so little lying unconscious on the concrete surrounded by a bunch of strangers. He was certainly too young to die?! He couldn’t have been under water for more than a minute. Only 5 minutes earlier, Bae had been poking at him to wake up! His eyes were fixated on his son, who was limp in a pile of blood and water. His eyes refused to leave until he heard his son sputtering and coughing up water. He opened his eyes, which were rolled back and made erratically strange movements. Gold found himself right by his son’s side again, the lifeguard finally out of the way.

“Papa?” his son asked, looking and sounding like he had just woken up. He attempted to get up but faltered.

“I can drive you to the hospital if you think it’s safe enough to move him to my car,” came a voice from the crowd that Gold identified as David Nolan, the town Sheriff.

“I suppose, but-” Miss French began to say.

“Is it or is it not fine?!” Gold demanded.

“I’m okay papa,” Baelfire said, getting to his knees. Gold hugged his son tightly to his chest.

They were only a few streets away from the hospital, three blocks away to be more precise. His son was awake and moving but still certainly needed to be checked out by a physician and given the clear. Gold looked at Miss French who gave him a nod and he helped his son to his feet, Bae was struggling a bit so he scooped his son up with some newly found strength and carried him to where Mr. Nolan was leading in the family sedan. Gold and Bae were in the backseat along with Mr. Nolan’s young daughter, who had tears streaming down her face and was sniffing wildly. It was then that Gold had noticed he had tears streaking down his own face.

When they arrived at the hospital, Baelfire was almost immediately taken into a room and was told that a doctor would see him shortly. The room was white and tiny and there was only one little chair and a bed for his son to sit on. Gold elected to stand up as he kept his son sitting on the bed. He was looking a little bit drowsy and was holding on to his father’s shirt. Gold now saw that his son was bleeding out from somewhere on his head. He didn’t dare investigate further, as he didn't want to hurt his son.

"How are you feeling?” he asked.

“I don’t feel that good,” Bae said meekly. “My hand really hurts too. I can’t move it.”

Gold hadn’t even noticed that there was anything wrong with his son’s hand. He had only noticed the blood coming from his head and the fact that his child had been unconscious. He did his best to keep a brave face and assured his son that the doctors would do what they could to help him and see what was wrong. It was the scariest thing in the world to almost have his son slip from his fingers like he almost just did.

About 15 minutes into waiting, a nurse did a quick examination and ordered some tests based on the results. Storybrooke was a small town and had an even smaller hospital staff, but thankfully there weren't too many emergency patients that day, so they soon were on the path to an almost all-day hospital trip. The thing that took the longest was the MRI scanner. It was a miracle that they even had the machine in the small town, but they did. Unfortunately, there were only a handful of people who knew how to operate the machine, and they were all preoccupied already. Gold was incredibly frustrated, but in the meantime there were other tests and procedures they had to go through. The X-ray technician, who also happened to be a dental hygienist on duty, got the results for them right away and let Gold know that his son’s wrist was most likely broken. Though they did have to wait for the doctor himself to come in and look at it.

The doctor came in almost 20 minutes later, but it had felt like hours. The doctor informed him that Bae had a mild concussion and had sprained his wrist

“Probably as a result of the fall,” the doctor said.

Bae was given a splint and a sling to keep him from moving his wrist, and they were given proper instruction on how to proceed. Gold had to unfortunately give David Nolan a phone call to let him know that they were done, since his car was still at the community pool. David had come out of a waiting room moments later. He had been at the hospital the whole time, explaining how he called his wife to pick up their daughter while he waited for them to finish up. Gold was glad of that and soon they all drove back to the community pool and got their own car to drive home. He couldn’t help but look at his son every 3 seconds as they made their way home.

<hr>

The following days, Gold had been on high alert as to his son’s well-being and Baelfire was well aware of this, asking for ice cream and things that Gold normally would give his son in moderation every few hours. The boy really knew how to play him, but still panicked from the previous ordeal, he gave into most of the demands.

There was a knock at the door: they hadn’t been expecting visitors and the Nolan family had just left from a visit a few hours ago. Gold went to the door to investigate, leaving his son alone by himself. He winced as he left, if this guy was a salesman or some church group, they were really going to feel his wrath. He opened the door to find the lifeguard, Belle French, at his doorstep. The darkness in his heart immediately lightened up, turning into warmth.

“Hello, Mr. Gold.” Belle said, “I just came by to check on Baelfire. I hope he’s doing alright.”

Gold, still suppressed at her being at his door, stood blankly.

“I just wanted to make sure that your son was okay. Nobody's heard a word from you regarding his condition and I haven’t stopped thinking about him! Please tell me he is alright!”

Gold’s mind caught up with his body. "He has a sprained wrist and a mild concussion. He was told to stay home for a while to heal up. I apologize that no word was sent out to you. It won’t happen again.”

“I sure hope not,” Belle said. “I’ve been moonlighting as a lifeguard during the summer for the past 4 years, and I’ve never had anything quite like that happen before!”

“It was an accident,” Gold justified, or at least this is what he’d been telling himself for the past few days to make sense of what had happened.

If only he had been paying more attention to his son and making sure that everything in the facility was safe. When he had questioned his son, all he said was that he slipped.

“Did you, by chance, see how my son got hurt?”

Belle paused and shifted uncomfortably for a moment.

“Yes. I must admit that I saw the whole thing. I just couldn’t reach him in time, I’m so sorry that this happened, and that I couldn’t prevent it. I just, I was far away and-”

“No need to apologize, I should be thanking you for saving my son’s life!”

Belle nodded.

“Well, I wanted to give you this gift basket and wish you two the best of luck and healing,” she said, shoving a well-put together basket in his hands. “I best be going now. I just wanted to hear for myself if your son was okay or not.”

Gold nodded slowly, accepting the present, dumbfounded at this woman’s kindness and big heart.

Belle swiftly walked back to her car as Mr. Gold stood on his doorstep, looking at her. She had just given a gift basket to the most feared man in Storybrooke, and he had thanked her for her help! Mr. Gold never thanked anyone. She had seen him around town and heard almost nothing but bad things about the man. Due to inheriting her late father and mother’s house, she never had many run-ins with Mr. Gold. She knew his son well from school as well as from the pool, but had never really interacted with the man himself besides a few choice occasions where he scolded her for not being more strict with the children making noise and running around the pool.

She had always taken her job as a lifeguard seriously but also remembered what it was like to be a child excited for summer. If only she had been more strict with Baelfire, maybe the accident was preventable. She was sure that Mr. Gold was going to hold a grudge against her for letting his precious and only son have an accident like that. She had told her friends about what had happened, and they told her she better watch out for Mr. Gold and that they wouldn’t put it past him if he sued her for negligence.

“What kind of person would do such a thing? There’s no way somebody would do something like that."

“He would, trust me.”

Two of her friends agreed and she spent two restless nights fearing the most feared man in Storybrooke. Yet another person he had under his grasp. She was legitimately nervous about Baelfire, as nobody had heard or seen him since the accident. The town sheriff, the one person at the pool she ever saw Gold somewhat talking to, hadn’t been in either. She asked around but nobody knew what had happened or heard from him since.

The one thing that everyone knew in Storybrooke, other than that Mr. Gold was one evil and ruthless sonofabitch, was that he lived in the bright pink house near the edge of town. The paint job was legendary and bold. When she first came to live in Storybrooke four years ago, she really admired the building, always wondering who lived in such a bold house as that. When she asked was one of the first times she heard about the famous old Mr. Gold who runs the pawnshop and also ruins lives in the sleepy little town.

She noticed Baelfire right away, as the librarian in charge of Storybrooke Elementary and Middle School. The child had such a unique name and she asked him about the history of it, remarking that she had never met someone with his name before. “Most people call me Bae or sometimes Bailey,” he said, shrugging as she checked out his books.

“You don’t like your name?” she had asked.

“I do, but it’s hard to say and a lot of people make fun of me for it.”

She nodded, understanding. From that day on, every time he came into the library she would say things like “How are you doing, Baelfire?” and “What kind of book are you getting today?” His class usually had library days once a week to get new books, but sometimes she saw him during lunch and recess time as well. He seemed to have 2 or 3 of the same friends but he was usually alone. Some children straight up seemed to ignore him or avoid him, but she had just chalked it up to kids being kids and kids being bullies. She inquired about it after seeing two children in a row change course down the aisle as soon as they saw him.

“Oh, that child’s the child of Mr. Gold,” one of the teachers in the teachers lounge told her. “A lot of children’s parents owe his father a lot of money, so they tell them to avoid antagonizing his son.”

“So they just don’t ever speak to him?” Belle asked, gobsmacked. “They don’t speak to this child because they owe his father rent money?”

“You don’t understand,” the teacher said, shaking her head. “If you anger Mr. Gold in any way, your head is on the chopping block and your life could be ruined. Nobody wants to teach his son in fear of his father’s wrath.”

Belle laughed, not knowing if this teacher was exaggerating or not. When she saw their blank expression she had a feeling they were for real.

“Oh, wow.”

“Yes, he’s never given a teacher too much trouble of course. He’s actually put a lot of his own money into this school for his son’s sake. But one time, when his kid was in pre-school and he had a meltdown, he got the teacher fired. We haven’t heard from her since.”

“Oh my," Belle said again.

“Anyway, just watch out what you say to the kid, alright?” The teacher warned.

“Don’t worry, I will,” Belle said.

She heeded the teacher's advice for about 2 weeks, but the child seemed harmless. He was very polite and very interested in reading. While the thought of his fearsome father was sometimes nagging her at the back of her mind, she decided to treat Baelfire as just a normal kid.

<hr>

Gold stood on his doorstep with the basket in hand and blinked, heading back upstairs to check on his son once more who was still on the same 15-minute episode of adventure time that he had been on when he left.

“The lifeguard came and got you a gift basket. She wanted to make sure that you were feeling well.”

“Really?!”

“Yes.” He set it on Baelfire’s dresser.

“She helped me,” Bae said.

“Yes, she saved you,” Gold said, warmly.

“How come you didn’t let her in? Aren’t we supposed to thank people when they give us things?”

His son had surprised him yet again. “Yes, you’re right. When you’re feeling better, we can both thank her together. So you need to get your strength up.”

“I feel fine,” Baelfire wined. “You’re the one who said I can’t go outside to play right now.”

“That’s because you have a cast on and have a wrist sprain. I’m afraid I’m going to have to keep you inside for awhile until the doctor says you're fine.”

“Papa, that’s no fun, it’s Summer!”

“Sorry, that’s the way it has to be.”

His son pouted but didn’t remark on anything further than that. They watched the rest of the episode and then Bae inquired if he could open the care package now. Gold had really wanted to see for himself what the lifeguard had given his son and make sure it was appropriate, but he nodded, anyway, trusting this woman he knew little to nothing about. Bae was overjoyed and tore at the clear plastic that was surrounding the basket. Gold could see a bunch of sweets and treats in the variety of chocolate and sours as well as a few other things, such as a hardcover children's book and another book that looked like it was a creative prompt-book. There was also a card which Bae was strangely excited about, due to him never receiving much mail addressed to him. Overall, the package was very age appropriate, thoughtful but not too extravagant. It basically was an activity to keep his son busy, which Gold was very happy for. That was probably the most thoughtful thing somebody had done for him in awhile. Again, Gold thought about how he ought to have done something for Belle instead of her doing something for him and his family. What should he do in return for her? He pondered as he saw his son look through the book, which was titled Percy Jackson, a book neither he or his son knew anything about. Perhaps they could read it together, though his son typically read things by himself nowadays.

After allowing his son to eat some of the candy, he asked his son if he wanted to read the book together. Bae nodded.

“Maybe as a bedtime story?”

Gold was still glad that his son wanted to do such things. He was nearly 10 and on a few occasions told him that he was too old for bedtime stories. His son was growing up so fast. He felt like his son was just a baby in his arms. He had devoted his whole life to Bae’s care and upbringing, that he almost didn’t know what he would do when his son left him. He was nearing his pre-teen, which meant in 3 years time he would be a teenager. Remembering his own teenage years, with his own terrible father, he was a little scared at raising a son when he had no idea what a normal way to raise a kid was like. The thought terrified him. All he knew was that when his son wanted or needed him now, he would be there.

<hr>

After putting his son to bed, Gold retired to his office to do a little bit more work before he went to bed. Since he had Bae home all day and was still paying most of his attention to make sure that nothing was going to go horrifically wrong, he had been saving most of his work for late at night, which meant little sleep for him. He thought more about what he should do to thank Miss French. Perhaps a cheque? Would that be out of line or too much? How could he even put a price tag on his son’s life? He could also thank her with dinner or perhaps a gift basket in return, but he really didn’t know about that. He only knew that he had to do something. Gold finished up the rest of his work and then went to lay in bed, his mind restless and not letting him sleep.

The next morning, he made pancakes and his son and him sat at the kitchen table.

“Can we at least go for a walk, Papa?” Bae asked

Gold grimaced. Walking for the sake of walking was something he didn’t like too much, due to his ankle. It got sore rather easily when he walked for more than 30 minutes straight, but he agreed to it. It was good to get his son fresh air if he was asking for it. He took his good cane with him and the two set off, deciding to walk on the nearby sidewalk and just around the neighborhood.

His son was doubly fast as him and often went off ahead alone, only to come back to his father. The boy had a lot of energy in him, and he had been cooped up for some time inside. Perhaps they should drive into town to walk, Gold supposed. The walk ended up being 40 minutes, and Gold was rather hot and sore by the end of it, while his son was unfazed. Exercise was something Gold should probably do more often, but the trouble was that his ankle killed him when he did most activities and he was pretty skinny and healthy, overall. He did know that he had a family history of heart trouble, and he wanted to be there for his son. Frankly, after his walk, he was a little more than a bit concerned about how winded he was from the walk. He never really went that far, so perhaps that was his main cause for concern.

He ended up taking his son to town the next day, where they planned on driving past the aquatics center to give Belle a Thank You card for the basket as well as for saving Bae’s life. It turned out that she was not working at the time, but the lifeguard on duty told them that she would be on the following day.

“Or you can leave the stuff with me. I can put it in the break room?”

“We’ll be back tomorrow,” Gold said.

He was always more of a person to do things in person than through a third party, which was part of the reason he collected rent by going to each and everyone’s house. Rent was due in a few days and he was still deciding the best route on how to deal with Bae. The usual babysitter who watched his son was out of town and summer camp had already ended. He was going to have to find a new babysitter or ask a favor of the only people who were nice to him and his son: the Nolan’s, who had already done so much for him lately. He could always take Bae along with him, which he did sometimes when he had the pawnshop open or had to do a few errands, but his kid was already cooped up and miserable. The babysitter he regularly used was recommended by a mutual business acquaintance, but he had no idea how to go about inquiring about a new sitter who had reputable character. He asked the Nolan family, as well as his regular babysitter named Margot, if they knew anyone who could possibly watch his son and they both recommended the same person: Alice Jones.

Gold met with the temporary babysitter a little bit before trying to catch Belle at the pool again. The babysitter was 20 minutes early and sitting in her car before he figured out who was loitering in front of his house. His first impression of her was that she was a little bit odd, but she seemed sufficient and kind enough to watch Bae for the afternoon when he went around collecting the rent the next day. It wasn't like he had much choice in the matter, and his son seemed to like her.

He told her that he would see her tomorrow and then left with Baelfire to swing by the pool. This time, Belle was indeed there. She was so focused on the children in the pool, she didn't realize Gold coming to her side with their little thank you gift in hand.

“Miss French,” Gold said, as he handed Belle the small thank you basket. “A little token of my appreciation.”

“Oh my.”

She looked at the basket in hand and then out to the water as she got down from her lifeguard tower to reach for it.

“Thank you so much,” she said cheerily.

“Thank you for saving my son.”

“Yeah, thanks for saving me,” said Baelfire.

“No problem!”

“I didn’t mean to interrupt you at work,” Gold said, “but I didn’t know any other way to contact you. I take it your house isn't as pink and noticeable as mine.”

Belle laughed. “You didn’t have to go through the trouble."

Some kids were beginning to roughhouse and Belle had to blow her whistle at them.

“I’ll let you get going then,”

“Thank you,” said Belle. “I hope to see Baelfire in the pool again before the end of the year if he’s able too,” she smiled.

“We’ll see.” With that, the Golds departed. He had done his duty.

<hr>

The next day Gold was rushed and panicked, trying to get all of the paperwork and receipts ready to try and hurry up and calculate all the rent in one go. He had been neglecting his work the past week, due to his son and he thought he was ready to collect rent but he was far from it. It seemed that he was going to run a little into overtime. Before Alice, the temporary babysitter, even came early that morning, Gold sent her a quick text asking if she could stay a little bit longer than he previously had asked if need be. Strangely the girl was already awake even though the sun was still coming out and informed him that she was free the whole day and would be willing to stay a little bit extra. This was the most relieving thing he had heard all day…

Alice arrived early once again, and Gold gave her the rundown before setting off to drop by his neglected pawn shop, which hadn’t been open all week. It was really more of his office than a legitimate business, but he still was sad that he hadn’t really had business hours in awhile. Usually, he stayed in the building an hour before he went to collect rent because sometimes residents liked going to him first before he came to them.

Baelfire was still asleep when he set off, though he usually made sure his son was awake at a reasonable time, he told Alice to let him sleep in as long as he wanted to make it easier on her.

Getting in the door to the pawnshop there was already some poor soul waiting for him to open up who was asking for a rent extension as they had emergency expenses that month. Gold actually gave it to them, as he wasn’t in the mood to argue when he still had so much work to do before doing the first rounds of collections. Three more people came in for other various issues that he quickly resolved, and then he began his first rounds of collections, which took about an hour and a half before heading back to the pawnshop. Nobody liked rent day, not even him.

After getting about a third of his total rent collected, he was back at his shop and getting pretty hungry, realizing that he hadn’t remembered to pack himself anything as he had left in a hurry. He resolved to eat at Granny’s Diner before he started collecting more rent in that area.

The bell to Granny's rang as he walked into the building, as usual eyes turned his way.

“I’m here for the rent. I’m also here for my usual.”

He sat down at his usual booth and the Red woman, who usually helped him, gave him a tall glass of iced tea with a lemon slice.

“I’ll be back with your burger and the rent money, Mr. Gold.”

He nodded and pulled out his phone, contemplating asking for an update on his son. He was sure that Alice would tell him if anything was wrong and didn't want to seem too overprotective of his son. If almost like magic, Alice contacted him, giving him a short update on his son saying that Bae was doing well and asked if she could take him outside for a walk. He responded back and then his food came. Halfway through the meal, he saw Miss French walking his way. He hadn’t even seen her enter the building. She quietly walked up to him and stood right by his booth, looking down at him as he was finishing up chewing a bite of food.

“Can I help you?”

“May I sit down?” she asked.

“Be my guest,” he motioned to the other side of the bench.

“Mr. Gold," she said, her voice low in case anyone was listening. “Um, I came here to talk to you about something.”

“What is it?”

“Um, that 'gift' that you gave me,” she slid him an envelope. “It was too much.”

She was talking about the cheque he had put in his thank you card. He had given it some thought and was determined that she would appreciate some money as a thank you for saving his son’s life. Perhaps he had thought wrong.

“I can’t believe it,” she started to say. “I had this sitting on the floor by my station the entire shift,” she exclaimed. “I can’t accept this.”

“I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” he said. “My apologies," he said, taking the envelope and sliding it in his breast pocket. "Will half the sum be more to your liking?”

“No! I just....” she paused trying to catch her words. “I can’t accept your money.”

“Fine. But is there anything I can do for you instead. I really can’t let my debt go unpaid. You saved my son’s life, after all.”

“You don’t owe me anything, really.”

“I insist.” Belle wavered and then her whole face lit up. “It seems you do have something in mind.”

“Well,” Belle started. “If you do ‘insist’ perhaps you can make a donation, a ‘small’ donation," she clarified, "to the school library or the summer swimming program. I’m sure the kids at Bae’s school would appreciate some new books and improved conditions.”

This woman was amazing. This woman was selfless. He was in awe.

“Done. On one condition,”

“What’s that?”

“You have to let me do something for you and you personally.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“Umm…” Belle wavered. “You can enroll in my swimming class. I can always use a few more people.”

She eyed him and could tell he wasn’t going to buy that request as being selfless.

“Fine. You can help me with my sink. I know you’re a landlord who has a few contractors under your thumb and my sink’s been leaking. I haven’t gotten a plumber to come and look at it yet, but I’m pretty sure it needs work. If one of your guys could swing by and check it out, I’d appreciate it.”

“Consider it done. That’s all you want? Many folks don’t get the opportunity to ask me for things, so please take this into consideration.”

“Yes. That’s it. A donation to the school library and my sink.”

Gold nodded. “I’ll need to know your address and I can have it taken care of when it’s convenient for you.”

“Sure. Let me text you my address.”

The rest of the rent collecting went well that day. Gold came home to find his son in great spirits, and he said he had a lot of fun with the new babysitter. Belle still hadn't texted him, but it still hadn't even been a full day.

About a full day later, while Gold was pouring through some of the logbooks he was working on, he found his phone had begun to ring. It was a call, not a text, a call! He picked it up and heard the soft timbre of Belle's voice.

“Hi.”

“Are you calling regarding the plumbing?”

“Yes. Do you think you can have someone come over on Friday and take a look at my sink? That’s my next day off, and I should be home most of the day.”

Gold only had one man working on Fridays, and he hoped it wouldn’t be an issue.

“That’s fine," he said. Do you have a preference in time? Earlier in the day or later?”

“How about 11?”

“We can make that work,” Gold said, not hesitating. “Are there any pets that he might have to worry about?”

“Just my cat, but he shouldn’t be any issue.”

“Alright. I’ll send somebody out on Friday to the address you texted me. Thank you, Miss French.”

“Sounds good, and thank you for doing this for me, Mr. Gold, I really appreciate it.”

She hung up and Gold immediately called the plumber on duty for that day and informed him to clear his schedule and take emergencies only because he had a special job for him.

Friday morning came and around 10 am he got a call from his plumber.

“Mr. Gold, there’s a septic emergency at the Glass Tower Apartment buildings. A bunch of the apartments are backing up and leaking, well, you know. The bad stuff. I called the other 2 guys to help me. It looks like it’s going to take awhile.”

Gold was upset at this news, mostly because one of his apartment buildings was apparently flooding with shit, but he was also upset due to the fact that he had to cancel the one small favor Belle had asked of him. Perhaps he could go and check out the problem himself. After all, he used to have to worry about building repairs when he didn’t have the income to afford to hire his own handymen. If the problem was too great to solve, he could always have one of his men look at it once the bigger problem was solved. Or just hire another outside plumber if she needed work asap. Going over to suss out the situation was the best course, especially because she expected him in an hour.

After a change of clothes, dressing in one of his less nice suits and putting on an undershirt, in case the problem was really bad, he headed over to Belle’s at precisely 11.

“Oh,” she said. “Mr. Gold. I wasn’t expecting you.”

“Nor was I,” he said coming into the building. “There was an emergency in one of my buildings that required all 3 of my plumbers. I’m sure it will be the talk of the town in a few hours.”

“Oh my, I hope everything is alright.”

“It’s alright, but I’m afraid there is only me to look at your sink today. I apologize and will leave if you want to wait for the plumbers on a different day.”

“I mean, you’re already here, might as well see what you can do. I tried to fix it myself but I don’t really know where Papa kept his tools and I’m 90% sure you’ll need tools to fix the problem I’m having.”

“That’s why I came prepared,” Gold said, raising his dusty old tool box. Belle nodded. “I used to do some sort of this stuff back in the day. I mostly know what I’m doing, but it’s been awhile. Can you please lead me to the problem?”

“Certainly, follow me.”

Belle led him to the kitchen and opened up the underneath of her sink up for him. There was a bucket collecting water and a long strip of crafting duct tape with a colorful rose pattern, holding things together.

“There’s a leak,” she explained. “It’s not a lot of water, and I can’t figure out exactly the source. I’ve been kind of putting it off, but it’s just gotten worse.”

“I see.”

Gold took off his suit jacket and bent down, in a bit of a painful way. He really hadn’t the need to bend like this in most cases. He used one of the dryer towels that was under the sink as support for his knees. He worked at removing the tape and then went digging through his tool box. Hopefully, the issue was a simple one, such as tightening a bolt or something. He tried the simple fixes first, until he was satisfied with his work. Belle was lingering looking at him the whole time, asking if she could do anything to help. When he was ready, he asked her to turn on the water and was met with a full on spray of water in his face.

“Oh God! I'm so sorry, Mr. Gold!”

He lurched back suddenly at full force, soaking wet and uncomfortable.

“Shit!”

He lay there in his puddle, uncomfortable and soaked and then did something almost unexpected as his uncharacteristic cursing: he stifled a laugh. This whole situation was all so ridiculous.

“I’m so sorry,” Belle began laughing a bit as well after she heard him laughing a bit more. “Let me get you a clean towel.”

Gold lay there on the floor, a little sore as Belle walked off. Oh, he definitely looked like a fool, but he somehow didn’t care in Belle’s presence. He should have left it for the professionals, but he just felt like he had to do something for her! He attempted to get up, a little sore, unused to lurching back the way he did.

Belle came back to the room with a towel and held him up without asking, which he was grateful for. She helped him to the kitchen chair and he began to dry himself off.

“So it looks like the leak is a bit more of a problem than I expected.”

“Appears so.”

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Gold,” she apologized, for the third time.

“Don’t mention it to anybody else ever and I’ll call us square for squirting me in the face with sink water.”

“Deal.”

“It’s safe to say, the problem is beyond my help. I can help you put the tape back on, but you’ll probably have to avoid using that sink until I can get a real plumber to look at it.”

“Eat takeout tonight so I don’t use the sink, got it,” Belle answered.

“That will do.”

He started to unbutton his wet shirt a bit without care. She had already seen him soaking wet and his attire at the pool. Besides, he and his shirt would dry faster if he took it off for just a bit. He wasn’t a blushing exposed maiden, after all. Besides, he still had his undershirt on.

After a few moments of rest, he got up to help Belle clean the water from the floor and he winced. She turned her head.

“Did you need some ibuprofen or something.”

“That’d be great.”

He had made her get up again to go get him something. He felt bad. She returned to the room and went to grab him a cup of water, turning on the sink.

“Stop-”

More water splashed on the floor, albeit just a little drop.

“Oh. Guess this is a lot harder than it looks to stay away.” She handed him the glass.

He took the pills down and then stiffly crouched to the floor to help her clean the mess.

After everything was dry, they sat down at the table where his shirt lay.

“This was quite the experience.”

“Trust me, if I told any of my friends how I have come to know you and what we’ve been through, they wouldn’t believe me.”

He nodded. “You certainly haven’t seen me at my best.”

She laughed a bit. “I never would have imagined you being the way you are. I mean, I’ve only seen you around town here and there. You’re not too bad, Gold.”

“Well you’re not too bad yourself.”

“I didn’t mean it like that, sorry.”

“It’s fine. I know what people say. Sometimes I believe myself to be the most hated man in Storybrooke.”

“I don’t think that’s true,” Belle started to say.

“Name one other person people hate more.”

Belle thought for a moment. “The Mayor!” Gold let out a short stifle of a laugh. “See! You agree with me.”

“I suppose.”

“See, I don’t really have to deal with you too much. The Mayor on the other hand, she keeps on trying to de-fund the school and library. I feel like I have to argue and fight with her once a week cause everyone else is too afraid to confront her.”

“You’re pretty brave, this is a secret: but she’s even known to frighten me on occasions.”

“Together we can probably stand strong together.”

“Yes.”

Belle gave him a smile.

After a few more long minutes of chatting Gold had offered to take Belle out for dinner, “It’s only fair,” he explained. “You can’t really cook or do dishes today because of me. I possibly made your sink worse than before.”

“It’s fine,” Belle said.

“I insist. What do you want to eat?”

“I dunno. Takeout is fine.”

“Takeout?”

“Yeah. We don’t have to go anywhere and sit down or anything. Takeout still results in no dishes or prep-work that needs a sink. Besides, me and you look pretty scruffy from the sink debacle earlier. People would talk if they saw me together, all ruffled up and stuff.”

Gold actually felt his cheeks redden. “Takeout is fine, Miss French.”

Perhaps this could be the start of something spectacular and new...?

#RCIJ #Rumbelle fic #ryik-the-writer #rumbelle #ouat #my fic #ty to katillac25 for beta work!

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peacehopeandrats · 4 years ago

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Rumbelle In July

As I have now officially posted the first chapter of my gift to @mariequitecontrarie, I am going to repost the asks I sent. We had a time communicating with each other over this month and so I tried to save everything I sent regarding the creation of each chapter.

Mountains, Streams, And Magical Things

Summary: Rumplestiltskin is a king of the magical world who collects magical things for a single purpose, but not all of them are as useful as he hopes they could be. When one of those useless items from the Enchanted Forest causes trouble in Storybrooke it changes the lives of everyone it touches, including the Dark One himself.

Notes: Written for MarieQuiteContrarie for Rumbelle Christmas In July.

The prompts given were: love, light, vacation, shine, breathless. I was also given the following further prompt in conversation: "I love Rumbelle both in Storybrooke and in the Dark Castle. ... I love when they bond with other characters and develop friendships outside of the two of them. I love fluff and sweetness and the two of them solving problems together and being on equal footing."

I ended up writing a chapter for each prompt and hopefully captured everything that was hoped for. The story title and chapter titles come from Mountain Stream by Cowboy Junkies, which I have always thought was very Rumbelle, so I guess you could call this one of my music video style fics, just in a very long form.

As with all of my fics, this one fits in to the one story line and is a sort of prequel to Growing Up.

#rcij 2020 #rcij #rcij gift #rumbelle #jefferson #grace #friendships #adventure #mountain stream #cowboy junkies #music fic #rumbelle christmas in july #mountains streams and magical things

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thestraggletag · 4 years ago

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I always get sad now that there are few Rumbelle stories updating or being uploaded onto AO3 until I remember that it’s likely because we’re all knee-deep in out RCIJ stories and I get excited again (until I remember I gotta finish my own).

#RCIJ #i'll get there #I blame Gold #Little shit likes being difficult #rumbelle

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little-inkstone · 4 years ago

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Heads up too all my followers and my rcij santa, I’m moving again on Monday!

We were supposed to be where we are until the renovations were done on our old place but orders from the top have changed plans. It’s a pain having to move again, but I’m fine with it otherwise; I’m going to miss having the internet for a few days though!

#inky talks #notes to santa #rcij

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mareyshelley · 4 years ago

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SURPRISE I'M YOUR SANTA! I was probably so stupidly obvious, but I tried! I'm SO HAPPY you were my giftee! I just posted your gift, and I'll probably be posting it all damn day because it's massive, I'm so sorry. But I hope you like it! You'll probably recognize a few ~things as you read it from conversations we've had. I don't want to give too much away, just know that you helped flesh out an idea I've been struggling with. Love you, hope you like 🖤🖤🖤

Don’t be sorry at all, I am so incredibly super excited to read it!! I need to take a moment to get it together and then I’m gonna read it, but I’m SO HAPPY you’re my Santa!! 🖤🖤🖤

#y'all #y ' a l l #asks #rcij #rcij santa #nerdrumple

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celticheartedfangirl · 4 years ago

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Ho ho! It's your Santa here! Think I got a handle on your gift, and with half an ambien I might be able to add some smut :D. Anything in particular you're hoping to see?

Hi Santa!

Don’t stress too much about the smut if it’s not your thing writing-wise. I don’t dislike smut but it’s not a necessity for me. If it’s there, great! If not -- no biggie.

Honestly my favorite trope is hurt/comfort, angst and fluff. Smut is just a bonus as far as I’m concerned!

#rcij #rumbelle christmas in july #rumbelle

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notalwayslate · 5 years ago

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Two Teacups

My Rumbelle Christmas in July gift for @joylee56

Prompt: Tea? Anything but earl grey.

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19885726

The fearsome pawnbroker Mr. Gold revels in his daily morning routine of sharing a cup of tea with the beautiful town librarian Belle French. However when Belle asks an unexpected question, Mr Gold's response threatens their budding relationship.

Laying his head against the glass, he sighed as the hard rain pelted against the window.

“Tea?”

“Anything but Earl Grey,” he grumbled his focus still fixed on the rain. He heard Ruby make a pitiful noise before turning to leave.

Seven days. It had been seven days since he had last seen Belle. Seven days since he unknowingly broke her heart, and in turn his own. He turned his head slightly, his forehead pressed against the glass. His stomach clenched as he stared at the library.

She was in there, his beautiful precious friend. He wondered if she was still in her apartment, or if she had already wandered down, preparing the library for a new day. Where ever she was, he knew one thing for certain, she wasn’t with him at Granny’s diner, and he had no one to blame but himself.

“I don’t understand why he’s acting so upset, he’s the jerk in all of this.” he heard Leroy not so subtly whisper to Ruby.

Closing his eyes, he tried to block out all the gossiping that swirled around him. This wasn’t a good look for him, he knew that. He was Mr. Gold, the most fearsome man in town. He should get out of this booth, stare down any man, woman, or child that dared to speak ill of his name. He needed to stop spending his mornings like a lovesick puppy, moping around Granny’s, waiting for her to walk through the door.

The clank of the teacup hitting the table pulled him out of his stupor, as he removed his head from the window. A small stab of heartbreak soon followed by rage pierced his heart as he saw two teacups set before him on the table.

“Take the other one away,” he barked at Ruby. “You know she’s not coming.”

Shrugging she ignored his command, calling over her shoulder as she walked away.

“You never know who may show up.”

He clenched his jaw, as he fought the urge to throw the damn teacup against the wall. He didn’t need to be reminded that he was alone and probably would be for the rest of his life. He banged his head against the window yet again, staring out at the library. God, he was such a fool. Lost in memories of her, he wasn’t sure how long he had been sitting there, when an unexpected voice caught him off guard.

"Hey there Papa."

For the first time in seven days a feeling of warmth and happiness enclosed his heart. Sliding out of the booth, he couldn't wrap his son in his arms quick enough. The surprise and happiness was soon replaced with worry. "What are you doing here?" he questioned suddenly pulling away from him to look him up and down. Is everything okay?"

"I'm fine Papa. Sit down" he motioned towards the booth.

Still worried about his sudden appearance, Gold forced a small smile, as his son sat down across from him. "Don't get me wrong son, I of course love every chance I get to see you, but why are you here?"

"Emma got a call last night from...” Gold watched as Neal’s eyes darted to Ruby behind the counter then back at him. “A concerned friend.”

"Really," Gold gritted out between his teeth, perturbed that the damn waitress felt the need to involve Neal and his wife in this disaster.

"Is everything alright, Papa? I mean, from what I hear you've been sulking around town for the last week."

He didn't want to burden his son with his problems. Puckering his lips, he shook his head no, feigning ignorance at the very suggestion that he was in fact anything but fine. “I’ve never been better son.”

He could see from his son's raised eyebrows that he was in no way fooled. Neal continued to press him.

"So how's Belle?"

His happy façade quickly dissolved at the mere mention of her name. He glanced away trying to fight the tears that welled up in his eyes.

"I don't even know where to start. I royally screwed up, son."

Reaching across the table, Neal took his hand. "Start from the beginning Papa."

Seven days earlier:

Pulling up to the pawnshop in his caddy, Gold got out, whistling a happy tune, as he closed the car door. A true smile of pure happiness graced his lips as he bypassed the front door of his shop, making a beeline to Granny’s diner. His mornings were his favorite part of the day for two reasons. The first was partaking in a hot cup of earl grey. The second and more important reason was who he partakes his tea with. For the last three months, he and the beautiful librarian had fallen into a delightful routine at Granny’s diner, enjoying each other’s company over a breakfast of earl grey tea.

He enjoyed their tea time together immensely. She was warm, bright, and engaging. He cherished her warm smiles and the occasional touch of her hand, when he helped her out of the booth every morning. Try as he may to convince himself that she was just a friend, Gold knew that he was indeed in love with the pretty librarian. He was also realistic though, and resigned himself to the fact that he was too old and damaged for her to possibly want him. And so he was grateful and satisfied that he at least got what little time he had with her every morning.

Swinging the diner door open, he paused for a moment in the doorway, as his eyes landed on Belle and Ms. Lucas standing near the counter. Belle immediately turned her head to look at him, and for a moment he thought he saw a hint of worry in her eyes. He felt a sudden surge of protectiveness, quickly glancing around the diner in search of anything that might be causing her distress.

With no immediate threats detected, he turned his attention back to the two of them, as Ms. Lucas squeezed Belle’s shoulders, talking to her quietly. Not wanting to interrupt whatever was going on, he moved towards their usual spot, seeing Belle’s purse already on the table.

He slid into the booth, placing his clasped hands on the table, patiently awaiting his breakfast companion. Although he tried not to eavesdrop, he could have sworn he heard the Lucas girl whisper, “You’ve got this,” seconds before Belle sat down across from him.

“Is everything okay?” he quickly questioned worry gnawing away at him.

“Yeah, everything is fine,” she smiled at him, and he felt his heart skip a beat. God, she was so beautiful. He took a breath, trying to calm his worry. It was none of his business. A gentleman would respect her privacy. If she wanted him to know, then she would tell him, but the thought of her being in any type of distress brought a sour taste to his mouth.

“Your Earl Grey tea,” Ms. Lucas smiled as she placed the canister and teapot down on the table before them.

“Thanks Ruby,” Belle smiled back at her.

“So Mr. Gold, do you have any plans this weekend?” Ruby asked, casting a quick glance at Belle before smiling back at him.

Caught off guard by the question he was in no mood for Ruby’s nonsense. These moments with Belle were precious and he didn’t want to waste a single second answering someone else’s questions. Narrowing his eyes, his lips flattened as he grumbled out. “I’m sure that is none of your business Ms. Lucas.”

He caught her giving a quick wink towards Belle before turning to walk away. As the two of them prepared their tea, worry once again gnawed at Gold’s mind. Belle seemed a million miles away, as she quietly lifted the teacup to her lips, taking a small gulp. Had he done something to upset her? Was she angry by his reaction to Ruby’s question? Surely she knew him well enough by now, to know that he had a complicated social relationship with most of the people in this town.

“You know you didn’t answer Ruby’s question. Do you have any plans this weekend?”

So she was upset by his curt dismissal to Ruby then, he thought to himself. Well he wouldn’t make that same mistake twice, not when it was Belle who was asking the question.

“No. Pretty much the same as always. Work at the shop till 7, then a night of wine and solitude” His eyebrows drew together in concern, as he watched her bite her lip in contemplation. He could see she was nervous, but had no idea as to why. She took a deep breath.

“Well if you are not too busy then, I was wondering if maybe you would like to go out on a date this weekend?”

“Ah.” He responded, as he felt a pang of disappointment stab his heart. She was going to try and set him up on a blind date. Everyone in town knew that in her short three months of being here, that she had already set up her library assistant Astrid with the handyman Leroy, as well as Officer Mulan, with the school teacher, Aurora. She had quite the reputation for matchmaking.

Although he should be grateful that his beautiful tea companion thought he was worthy of finding love, he felt a surge of anger and resentment that she wanted him to be with someone else. They always had such a lovely time and there was no one else’s companionship that he enjoyed more than hers. Why did she want to ruin what little happiness that he got from spending this time with her, just to set him up on some disastrous date?

“No. I do not want to go on a date,” he replied in a cold and annoyed tone. He watched as her eyes widened for a moment, and he swore he saw a flash of hurt behind them. Well she would just have to get over that, he thought to himself. There were plenty of other people that she could set up in this town.

“May I ask why?” she answered her voice sounding so small and defeated.

“Do you really have to ask me why?” he responded with a scoff, offended that he had to defend why he didn’t want to be set up with someone else. “Let me make it clear, dearie. I’m not interested. Not today, not ever! Now if you are done with this nonsense, can we please go back to our tea?”

A wave of panic rushed his heart as he saw tears spring from her eyes. Quickly excusing herself, she rushed out of the diner, before he could say anything else. Although it pained him to see her upset, he couldn’t help but think she overreacted to his rejection of a blind date.

‘She just needs time to calm down,’ he thought to himself as he debated following her to the library. He would give her a day, and tomorrow during their tea time, he would apologize for his curt language and rudeness. He dropped a few dollars on the table, ignoring the cold stares that he received as he walked out of the diner. Tomorrow would be better.

Gold felt out of sorts as he walked towards the diner the next morning. He had slept horribly, tossing and turning the entire night, the vision of Belle’s tear filled eyes haunting his soul. He needed to make amends with her, since nothing felt right, when things were off between the two of them. He sighed to himself. Even if he had to agree to going on a blind date with whoever she wanted to set him up with, he would do it, if it meant that he would never have to see her that upset again.

He arrived at the diner twenty minutes earlier than usual, anxious to make amends with her. He quickly made his way to their usual booth, taking a seat. He adjusted his tie, and checked his pocket square, as Ruby approached the table, setting down a lone teacup before him, with the canister of earl grey. He gestured at the teacup.

“Where’s Ms. French’s cup, dearie.”

She barked out a cold laugh, placing her hand on her hip. “You’re kidding right?”

Agitated but confused by her response he stared at her silently. Had she gone mad? Did he wake up in some alternative universe, where he did not spend every morning here for the last three months having tea with Belle French?

“You should be ashamed of yourself,” he heard the loud boisterous voice of Leroy coming from behind him. Gold turned to see that Leroy had swiveled around on his stool facing him. “She’s a nice girl.”

Well apparently Belle must not have been the only one that day who was appalled by his behavior. Gold gritted his teeth. “Mind your own business, or your rent may become my business today.”

As Leroy swiveled back around to face the counter, Gold smirked at how quickly he had backed down.

“Do you really expect her to show up today, after you rejected her so cruelly?” Ruby asked, taking his attention away from Leroy.

Embarrassed that his behavior the other day was noticed by others in the diner, Gold felt himself get defensive as his voice grew colder. “There is nothing cruel about not wanting to be set up.”

“Set up?” Ruby asked bewildered. “So that’s what you think? You think Belle asked you to go out with her on a date to set you up for what….some sort of prank or something? Do you really think she’s capable of doing something so cruel? God, I can’t believe you.”

Disoriented, Gold wasn’t certain when the room started spinning. Belle had asked him out on a date. This realization kicked him in the stomach, as he felt he was suddenly going to be sick. Belle wasn’t asking to set him up on a blind date, she was asking him out on a date…with her. A date that he rejected. Oh God! His hands shook as he laid his face in them, shaking his head in disbelief.

“I…I thought she was trying to set me up on a blind date, like she did with Leroy,” he groaned quietly.

“Like any woman in this town would agree to be set up with you,” Leroy shouted over his shoulder while still eating his breakfast.

Drowning in turmoil Gold ignored Leroy’ jab, as flashes of Belle’s crying face when he had rejected her replayed in his broken heart.

“You can’t be that naïve,” Ruby snorted, as Gold took his face out of his hands, his eyes watery. Her expression softened at his obvious distress. “Well maybe you are.”

Part of him felt elated that Belle had feelings for him. He could never have dreamed that a man like him would ever have a chance with a woman like Belle. But that elation was soon replaced with regret and guilt. What must she think of him now? How could he have been so blind, so foolish as not to see that she was asking him out on a date?

He sat quietly in the booth for over an hour waiting for her to magically walk through the door. He needed to go to her and apologize, but the coward in him walked back to his shop. She was probably better off without him, his insecurity told him. He was just an old fool who didn’t deserve a treasure as precious as her, and yet the next morning he went to the diner waiting and hoping for some kind of miracle.

Present Day

“You’re right Papa, you did royally screw up.”

Gold let out a mirthless chuckle.

“Just go and talk to her Papa. Apologize. Explain that it was just a big mistake. I’m sure she will understand.”

He scoffed at his son’s suggestion. He made it sound so easy, that just a simple apology could erase all the pain and confusion that he caused sweet Belle. He was a creature of darkness, destined to spend his life alone, and didn’t deserve a second chance. But...he couldn’t very well let Belle continue to believe that the idea of dating her repulsed him. She was everything that was good and light, and should never doubt her own self-worth for even a second. He needed to fix this. He turned to his son, looking for guidance, but Neal’s attention appeared to be elsewhere.

“I don’t….”Gold’s sentence was interrupted as Neal quickly spoke up, his attention returning to his father.

“If Belle was here now, what would you say to her Papa?”

Gold wrung his hands tightly as his mind swarmed with every word he ever wanted to say to her.

“That she is the most beautiful woman that I have ever met. That I wake up every morning with a smile on my face, because I know I get to see her. That she consumes my every thought. That not getting to see her this past week has been the worst seven days of my life.” Gold stared off out the window as he continued to speak from his heart. “That I’m a coward, who was too afraid to ask her out, and even more of a coward for convincing myself that she could never want to date me. That if she could ever find it in her heart to forgive an old fool that I would promise to try and make her happy every morning, every day of my life.”

“Rumford?”

Startled by her voice, Gold’s heart raced, as he sat frozen in place. She must have been standing behind him, but Gold was too frightened to turn around. He glanced at his son, who was smiling like a cat who ate the canary. Swallowing down his fear, Gold mustered what little courage he had, and turned to see Belle’s beautiful blue eyes upon him. He immediately noticed Emma, Neal’s wife, standing next to Belle.

“Neal, why don’t we leave these two alone,” he heard Emma say, as Neal scooted out of the booth taking Emma by the hand.

Stunned to see Belle standing before him, Gold suddenly remembered his manners, as he stood up.

“Please?” he held up his hand motioning to the now vacated side of the booth. His heart skipped a beat, as Belle took his hand, as he helped her slide in to place. He quickly sat down across from her. She spoke first.

“I…I didn’t mean to eavesdrop.”

“No, it’s fine,” he croaked out. “You don’t need to apologize. In fact never apologize for being near me.”

She smiled at his words, causing his heart to flutter. “The truth is I am the one who owes you an apology. Belle…I”

She held up her hand, causing his heart to stop. She didn’t want to hear whatever lame excuse he had, he assumed.

“You don’t owe me an apology Rumford. The truth is that you have every right to say no when someone asks you out on a date. I shouldn’t have hid away after you told me no. I…

He didn’t wait for her to finish, if he didn’t do it now, he was afraid he never would.

“Belle….would you go out on a date with me?”

She opened but quickly closed her mouth. He could see she was surprised.

“You see, I thought you were asking to set me up on a blind date with someone else. That is what I was saying no to, not you. Never you… Belle. So I’m asking you, Belle French would you do me the honor of going on a date with me this Saturday?”

The diner was completely silent. Gold was positive that if he turned around he would find all eyes on the two of them. His stomach dropped as Belle slid out of the booth. She was going to leave. He had rejected her, and now she was going to publically reject him. Lost in his own self-doubt, he nearly jumped out of his skin, as he felt her soft hands grasp at his tugging at him to stand. Willingly he stood before her, speechless at the radiant smile she gave him.

“Yes,” she answered with tears in her eyes. “Yes Rumford I would love to go out on a date with you.”

Smiling from ear to ear, he opened his mouth to thank her for accepting, when Belle lunged forward, bringing her lips to his. It took a moment for his brain to process the fact that he was kissing Belle French, but when it did compute, he quickly wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer to him deepening the kiss. Whistles and applause surrounded them in the diner, and Gold was quite sure he heard Emma yell at them to get a room.

Eventually she pulled back, as his lips tried to follow hers. Glancing down at her watch, she bit her lip.

“The library opens in 20 minutes.”

He smiled at her. “Well, sounds like we have time for at least one cup of tea.” He kissed her hand, as he helped her slide back into the booth. Instead of sitting across from her, Gold slid in right next to her.

A smiling Ruby approached the two of them.

“Two earl greys, please,” Gold ordered with a smile as he wrapped his arm around Belle.

#rumbelle christmas in july #joylee56 #rumbelle fic #rcij

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shadowedoracle · 5 years ago

Text

An Unconventional Gift

Happy Rumbelle Christmas in July! This is my RCIJ gift for the lovely @moonlight91. I’m sorry you had to put up with me and my poor communication when my life and health overtook me in the last month. Also I’m sorry I drifted over into the next day -- I’ve no idea what timezone you’re in but I’m sure it’s well in Sunday wherever you are.

I hope you enjoy your gift. This what happens when I come up with a new idea so you have a complete gift and write it all at the last minute. I enjoyed working on it even if it wasn’t my initial idea and is perhaps quite different to what you were expecting from your prompt. I’m planning on posting my initial idea too at some point so if you have any interest in seeing that I’ll hopefully post the prologue and first chapter soon.

Summary: Rumple brings a baby back to the Dark Castle.

Enchanted Forest AU and canon-divergent.

Prompt: Fairytale Murder

Rating: G

Notes: Fluffy and but also angsty because that’s what apparently happens when I decide to try to write fluff.

Also because I decided to write this new idea at totally the last minute please let me know if you see any typos because I haven’t obsessively been through this as many times as I normally would before posting.

Warnings: Depression (not in any real depth or detail but it is there).

[AO3]

“And then I reached into her chest and do you want to know what happened next?”

There was a high pitched giggle that was answered by a happy little burble.

“Do you? Yes of course you do.” The high voice trilled. “You’re going to be the baddest and most evil of sorcerers when you grow up.” A scaled green-grey scaled hand reached into a carry basket and tickled light haired baby’s stomach. “Yes, you are. You are, you are.” An excited shriek echoed through the large hall.

Rumplestiltskin grinned at the baby. “Yes. You are and I’ll teach you all there is to know. It’s actually quite simple. You see, little one, the thing you have to remember is people turn to me in times of need, out of desperation, for things they can or won’t do for themselves. It’s amazing what people will ask an evil sorcerer to do for them. You just have to know how to extract the right price for your services. You will want to remember that for yourself later.”

The baby stared back at the sorcerer solemnly, then gave a little twitch of her head which, if you squinted at it carefully enough, you could just about interpret as a nod. The sorcerer’s grin widened and was answered by a small, almost wry, quirk of the lips from the baby. Could babies have a wry sense of humour?

Then again this one seemed to be one of those children who was born an adult in all but body. Her intense blue eyes gleamed with intelligence as if she was in fact taking copious mental notes. If she could have held a pen she surely would have been taking actual notes. She would surely grow up to be a scholar of great renown. Or would have if she had been born into a world that readily allowed women to become scholars.

The sorcerer, snorted to himself, that was of course, a stupid a narrow minded view. Not that he expected anything less from the fools of this land any more. He’d been alive for centuries and how much had changed? Precious little. Women, rich and poor still, died in childbirth and far too many infants never lived to adulthood. The lands were still mostly ruled by the same noble families, mostly by men (although there were notable exceptions), the poor were still expected to give their lives in the battles the noble families fought between each other and occasionally existential threats such as ogres.

Which really reinforced to him how little had changed -- they were still fighting ogres wars of all things. He had always believed when he had been called up to fight them that they would finally have stopped the ogres in their tracks once and for all. Of course he’d been a naive fool back then and now understood something of the harsh barrenness of many of the ogres’ lands and the complicated nature of ogre politics. They weren’t nice and fluffy creatures (then again neither was he) but they weren’t all the rampaging senseless villains most humans believed them to be.

Well all humans he’d ever met in fact except perhaps the one living in his castle. He didn’t think he’d met another person in his life who so much as considered that perhaps not all ogres were monsters. Some would have mistaken such compassion for softness but then only one who had never clashed minds with Belle would have ever have thought her soft. She was gentle in many ways but soft implied that she was weak and malleable and his Belle was neither of those things.

She also wasn’t his Belle. She might have come with him as part of a deal and have been his maid (although with the all the Castle’s self-cleaning spells and other spells to provide food and drink she was barely even that at times) but she most certainly wasn’t his in the way he sometimes wished she could be. She would never look at him that way. If he was a better man he could have released her from her deal with him and let her go out into the world and find the happiness she deserved. But he was still a monster, a selfish one at that, and he couldn’t bear to lose the light she had brought back into his life.

He knew one day he would find his son but that seemed a long way off most days. Before her there had been so many times when he wouldn’t rise from his bed for weeks when the despair over the loss of Baelfire consumed him. But with Belle here even the darkest days were easier. Having someone who would smile at him and even if she was not able to fix his problems somehow made those days less unrelentingly terrible.

She also would not allow him to mope and feel sorry for himself for too long. The first time he had fallen into one of his dark spells after she’d arrived and holed himself up in his chambers, she had waited three days before hammering on his door and then barging her way into his inner sanctum when he didn’t respond. He supposed he could have used magic to lock his door but he’d been so startled it hadn’t ever occurred to him. He’d never bothered with any locks, magical or otherwise until he given her her own suite of rooms and wanted to make sure she’d feel safe from anyone, including him.

Even that first time Belle hadn’t asked him any questions and just taken one look at his pathetic form and walked out. He’d assumed that she wouldn’t be back -- who would after looking at his matted and wild hair, his crumpled night shirt and his twisted bedsheets from his nightmares? He sincerely wished the legend that the Dark One didn’t need sleep was in fact correct when the nightmares over took him. But his little maid had surprised him. She’d returned less than five minutes later with a glass of water and a book. She’d placed the water on his bedside and after looking around his room and discovering that he had no chairs in the room sat down beside him on his bed and began to read to him.

He supposed if he were a better man he would have summoned a chair for her but he wasn’t one. If this was to be the only way he would ever have Belle in his bed he would not pass up the opportunity. So he had lain there entranced by the sound of Belle’s voice and the tale of the hero Gideon. She had read to him for hours and while the heavy feeling in his heart and his limbs was still there somehow it wasn’t quite as bad as it had been before.

Hours later she laid down the book looked him in the eyes. She had smiled somewhat sadly at him and he felt a stab of guilt at idea he someone made his little Belle feel sad. But before he could apologize and grovel for her forgiveness, she had stood up an informed him in no uncertain terms that she didn’t think he’d eaten in at least three days (he hadn’t but hadn’t really noticed) and that she expected him downstairs for dinner. Since he could think of no way to reply to that or how to argue with the fierce and stubborn creature that was his maid he’d acquiesced.

Ever since then whenever he’d have one of his episodes she’d come to his room and read, sometimes out loud to him and other times silently to herself. Either way she would always sit next to him keeping him company. Sometimes she’d absent-mindedly reach out and stroke his hair and it was all he could do not to purr. He would have liked it if she touched him like that out of true affection and not pity but he couldn’t stop in taking comfort from them. They were a soothing balm for his ancient dark and misshapen soul.

She never asked him any questions during those times -- which was a good thing as he didn’t trust himself to answer them without soaking her shoulder in tears. She simply was there and all she seemed to expect was that he managed to magic himself from bed at least once a day to appear for a meal that she’d make with her own rudimentary cooking skills. Some of the concoctions she’d laid in front of him tasted truly terrible he had to admit. But the idea that she cared about him enough to try to make him a chocolate cake was to him a far sweeter gift than her simply instructing the castle to make one for her (and not just because she’d gotten the salt and sugar confused).

No his little maid was kind and compassionate towards him and he had found himself slowly opening himself up to her in a way he hadn’t to anyone ever before. Not even with Milah. Belle might have just been his maid and gradually becoming, dare he hope a friendly companion? He couldn’t hope to yet have met the bar for a friend yet but she was a constant in his life that even a year ago he never would have believed possible. Now he was about to change both their lives. He just hoped that she would be pleased and not mad at him about it. Maybe he ought to have consulted her first?

A loud wailing broke though his reverie. He looked back to the baby and took in the red screwed up little face.

“Hush now. Little one. Hush. What’s wrong now? I’m sure it’s nothing we can’t fix.”

He reached into the basket and stroked her cheek. She took a big breath and for a moment it seemed like that was all that would be needed to calm her. But then she let out an even louder cry and it seemed that that hope would be in vain. He sighed and took the tiny little one into his arms, sniffing her slightly as he did so. That wasn’t the issue it seemed.

She was lighter than Bae had ever been to hold even though he thought from some of the other signs that she must be at least a month or two old by now. Of course he hadn’t arrived home until weeks after Bae’s birth but he was certain Bae had never been this tiny even as a newborn. His anger stirred as he felt how thin the babe was in his arms.

A quick thought later and a leather bottle appeared in his hand and he shifted the baby in his arms slightly and tilted the bottle so that the teat was in front of its mouth. He hoped that the nipple shaped object in front of it would be enough for the babe to work the rest out but apparently he had slightly over-estimated its intelligence at this stage at least. He shook head, amused at his own stupidity and gently opened the baby’s mouth and placed the bottle’s nipple inside. For a moment she seemed confused but then she gave an experimental little twitch of her mouth and her whole being seemed to relax as she began to drink more enthusiastically.

“That’s it. Drink up little one. There’s more where that came from. Infinitely more, in fact. Now I should go back to telling you your story where was I? I was telling you about how I murdered that women who wanted to harm you. Yes? Now I had dispatched the first two and the final was one was choking on my magic when I reached into her chest and I out her heart.”

There was a crash from behind him and the large doors to the Great Hall flew open and Belle came rushing into the room.

“Rumplestiltskin, I didn’t realize you were back already. Do you want your tea now or later? And what was that noise just now? I could have sworn I heard a baby crying but...”

She trailed off as the sorcerer turned towards her and she caught sight of the small bundle in his arms. His generally soft and good natured maid’s countenance took on a much sterner and frosty appearance as she glared at him.

“And where, pray tell, did that come from?” She tapped the heel of her foot against the floor while he tried to remember how to make his mouth work.

“It’s not what you think, Belle.”

“And what precisely is it that you think I think?” Her stony expression almost made him cringe before he reminded himself sternly that he was the Dark One and he did not cringe to before his maid no matter how much her liked her or how sharply he could feel the points of the her stare piercing into his skin.

“Well… You probably think I broke my promise I made to you after that whole, er, um, incident with Jack and Jill’s baby. But I didn’t. I swear.”

“Then where exactly did it come from? It didn’t just appear out of thin air.”

He gave a nervous little giggle, “No, no, of course not my dear… I mean, dearie. I was getting to that. You see there was this village that called on me to help it deal with a problem it was having. The town’s babies had all gone missing from their cribs overnight. Their parents woke up pleased at first with a good night’s rest because of not having been awakened in the night to discover they had all gone. So I was called by some of the parents to help them find their children.”

“For a price.”

He rolled his eyes. “Well of course for a price. The Dark One doesn’t do anything for free and he most certainly does not do good deeds. But you needn’t worry about the price, it was just some gold the families offered up. Nothing more, er, exotic, this time.”

“Then how did you get her”, a quick nod of that beautiful head towards the bundle in its arms, “if not as the price?”

“I’m getting to that bit. Now I can see you’re not in the mood for the clever little bit of magic I did to find the children right now. But it was a particularly good piece of magic to find them so quickly, if I do say so myself.”

His maid didn’t look the least bit impressed with that.

He swallowed hard. “Right. Anyway, so I tracked the children to a cave in the middle of the Infinite Forest. A trio of those gnats who call themselves ‘Fairy Godmothers’ had taken them in the hopes of using their blood to enhance their powers. They weren’t the first ones, just the first time they’d branched out to taking a whole village. Which was foolish if they’d hoped to go unnoticed but it seems from what I found there they’d done enough experiments to ascertain that this would likely have worked. Well… I’m dark but I’m not like that.

“I dealt with the fairies then returned the rest to their homes but this one was well left over, nobody claimed her or even knew whose she was. I tried to track her parents with magic but there was no trace of them. There’s only one reason for those that particular spell to fail -- if they’re dead. So she’s an orphan, see.”

Belle’s face had softened during his explanation and while she still looked serious she looked more like her usual self. He became aware that the sucking on the bottle had stopped too. He removed the bottle from the girl’s lips and vanished the bottle.

“And so what are you planning on doing with her now?”

He gulped and stared down at baby to give himself courage.

“Well it seems that she needs a home.” He glanced back up at Belle but she seemed to be more focused on the baby in his arms. That was good. Maybe she wouldn’t be too mad about this after all.

“And well, I was, er, wondering if you wanted her.”

Belle’s eyes snapped back up to his face. She looked at him, startled.

“Me?”

He suddenly wondered if perhaps this was a bad idea and that maybe he should have asked her whether she wanted a child before bringing one back for her. She’d never wanted her marriage to Gaston perhaps she hadn’t wanted children either. It would hurt to give this child up if she didn’t want her. In less than a day he’d become rather fond of the little one. But he could hardly keep her if Belle didn’t want her, he wasn’t a fit and proper person for such a task on his own.

“Well… That is if you, um… If you want to of course. It’s just you seemed quite fond of that one baby but gave up on marriage and all that life to come here with me. We agreed that I wasn’t to take any as part of deals any more but I thought this might be, um, a mutually agreeable way for you to get that chance.”

“Rumple...”

“It’s fine if you don’t want to.” He hurried to add. “I’m very good at finding homes for babies.”

“Rumple...”

“I have experience doing it.”

“Rumple!”

“And I wouldn’t hold it against you in the least...”

“Rumplestiltskin! Will you let me get a word in?”

“Oh, right of course.” He swallowed hard of over the dryness of his throat and unconsciously ran a finger over the forehead of the baby.

Belle smiled at him slightly and took a few steps closer to him and the baby.

“Are you sure about this?” She reached out a hand towards him but stopped just short of touching the baby.

“Yes, yes of course.”

“You won’t mind a child running around the place all the time?”

“Why I mind that? Would I have suggested this idea, if I didn’t mean it?”

She shrugged. “You might not have fully thought this through.”

Well he hadn’t but that didn’t mean he was going to regret it if she wanted this.

“Does she have a name?” Her hand grazed the baby’s head as she said it.

“Does that mean you want to keep her?”

She smiled softly her gaze now fully on the baby. “Yes. Yes I want to raise this child with you Rumple.”

He opened his mouth but no sound came out. When she phrased it like that it made it sound like she would be letting him do more help her out every so often. Almost like she would let him help parent the child, almost like they were a couple. He was sure she didn’t meant the latter but perhaps this meant she viewed him as a friend of sorts now? He felt a dampness that felt suspiciously like tears begin to well up in the corner of his eyes. She held out her arms to him and he wordlessly transferred the baby into her waiting arms.

“Why, hello little one.” She smiled one of the most radiant smiles he’d ever seen down at the babe in her arms and she was answered with small little smile. “You’re beautiful aren’t you? What’s your name? Rumple, you didn’t tell me if she had a name yet.”

He didn’t think he could reply, he wasn’t sure he’d seen a more beautiful sight since he’d lost Bae. He swallowed a few times to force the emotions he was feeling down enough so he could answer Belle’s question.

“Yes… Well at least I assume it’s hers it might not be I guess. It was sewn into the blanket I found her in but I suppose that blanket could have belonged to another child first…”

She nodded, “Well let’s assume that it was probably her name then unless it’s truly dreadful.”

He shook his head, “it’s Alice.”

“Alice? That’s a good name. I think it suits her don’t you think?”

He nodded the sight of Belle cooing down at the baby was too much for him to trust himself with words right now.

“Well. Then I guess we’ll have to make a place for you to live, little Alice. We didn’t have much time to prepare but let’s see what the castle can rummage up for us shall we?”

He cleared his throat, “I um, might have taken the liberty of preparing the room next to yours as a nursery. At least until you decide how you want to decorate it of course.”

She smiled at him. “Well let’s start there shall we Alice?”

As she reached the doorway she turned and looked back at him and said, “Oh and Rumple, just so you know, this wasn’t the only way I could have had a child and remained faithful to our deal.”

He nodded wondering what her point was. He supposed she could have found herself some young man in town to get her with child. It didn’t quite seem Belle’s style somehow but perhaps he’d been wrong. She rolled her eyes slightly and he watched the slight crinkles form at the sides of them as smiled at him.

“Just the next time you decide you want to raise a child with me Rumple, perhaps consult me first? We could try the traditional route of acquiring one. I hear it’s a lot of fun.”

And with that she breezed out of the room while he stood gaping after her.

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