#he made this for his wife go read the gallery label it is nice
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Hart/Heart by Ulysses Davis, ca. 1950-1960
#Ulysses Davis#he made this for his wife go read the gallery label it is nice#love#heart#deer#wood#carvings#sculptures#1950s#Georgia#American#United States#20th century#folk art
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The Question Falls - Chapter 4
Fandom: OUAT
Pairing: Rumbelle
Rating: M (eventually)
Summary: Divorce attorney Gold knows better than to fall in love with a client. Really he does.
AO3
Chapter 4
Gold stared at his ringing phone, his brain whirling. He recognized the name and number, but why on Earth was she calling at seven o’clock on a Friday evening? Surely she had better things to do, better people to talk to? What could she want or need that wouldn’t wait until Monday?
The call went to voicemail and Gold breathed a little more easily. She’d had his personal number since early days in the case, when he’d needed to reach her one night and couldn’t be bothered to dig his business phone out of his briefcase. He waited for the notification of a voice message and then listened to it, feeling like a stupid teenager screening calls, hoping to hear from his crush.
“Hey, Gold, it’s Belle. I was just...calling to check in, I guess. See how you felt about getting that coffee we talked about?” There was a pause, and Gold took a moment to wonder if she really did sound as nervous as he thought she did, or if that was his besotted brain playing tricks on him. “Anyway, call me if you get a chance.”
He shook his head and tapped the screen to play the message again. Calling to check in ...check in about what? What business did they have that she would need to check on? She couldn’t mean to check on him personally, could she? how you felt about getting that coffee ...Had they actually talked about getting coffee? He remembered her saying something about it but he didn’t think any decisions had been made and he certainly didn’t remember agreeing. call me if you get a chance ...Well, he had a chance now, but it didn’t sound urgent, and if he called now she would know he’d screened her call. She’d want to know why he hadn’t answered immediately and even if she didn’t ask she would definitely wonder. But how long should he wait, then? An hour? Or perhaps a day? That would make more sense, wouldn’t it? But this wasn’t 2003, and no one really waited until the end of the day to listen to voicemails, did they? No, she’d certainly expect him to return her call sometime tonight.
And now he was breaking out in a cold sweat as he imagined her waiting for his call, and ye gods, what was he going to say?
He put the phone down and rubbed at his eyes, willing his anxiety to calm. Even if she was waiting for him to call, she could wait a little while longer while he corralled his thoughts. He would ask what she needed, talk her through whatever the problem was, and hang up. If she mentioned coffee, which he doubted, he would have to play it by ear. Name a day just so she could lament that she was busy, but some other time? Right.
He called her before he could second guess himself, and he would be lying if he said that he wasn’t expecting to get her voicemail.
She answered on the second ring.
“Hey!”
“Hello...Belle.” That part was still a little strange for him. “I got your message. What can I do for you?”
For several seconds she said nothing. “Um...I don’t really...I mean, I don’t need anything. I just wanted to…”
In all the months of their acquaintance he’d never heard her sound so uncertain. Oddly he found himself relaxing in response.
“How’ve you been?” he asked when her voice trailed off.
“Good! Busy, mostly, there’s a show at the gallery next week and we’ve had to do a bit of rearranging. The artist’s fairly picky about how his sculptures are displayed, so we’ve had to get creative with lighting and pedestals and all that. How about you?”
“The usual. Alimony, custody battles, division of assets. Sometimes I even get to practice a little law.” He smiled when she laughed.
“I hadn’t heard from you since you were over, and I realized we never did set a date for that coffee we talked about. What’s your day look like tomorrow?”
“Ah...lunch with a client and then dinner at a friend’s. Bit busy.” Perhaps whatever she wanted or needed was too delicate to discuss over the phone. That was the only explanation he had for her fixation on this coffee get-together.
“Okay. What about Sunday, then?”
Gold pretended to think about it while his mind was racing again. “That works for me.”
“Great! How about one o’clock? I’ll text you the name of the place.”
He agreed and they both hung up, his phone chiming a few seconds later with the name of a diner near her apartment. He was really rather proud of how well he’d handled the conversation. Face-to-face interaction might be a little more challenging, but Regina’s party on Saturday would give his interpersonal skills just the warmup they needed.
Gold knew something was wrong the moment Regina opened her door. Her expressive face was a picture of angry apology.
“Sorry, sorry,” she whispered, gripping his sleeve with her perfectly polished fingernails and hauling him inside. “I’m so sorry.”
“Sorry for what?” he demanded, wrenching out of her grasp.
“Darling!”
The crooning voice froze him in place. A red-haired woman was bearing down on him, her green eyes glittering and her smile stretched wide. In her heels she was two inches taller than him. Wrapping herself around his arm she smiled into his eyes.
“Zelena,” he growled, leaning away from her touch. “This is a surprise. Regina didn’t tell me you were coming.”
“Oh, she didn’t know! I was in town for a conference and thought I’d just drop in,” Zelena laughed. “You should have seen her face!”
“Yes, you could have knocked me over with a feather,” Regina clipped.
Gold tugged experimentally at his arm, but Zelena gripped him more tightly. “Regina, tell me you have a full bottle of Johnnie Walker with my name on it.”
“Of course.”
“Oh! I’ll get it for you,” Zelena said eagerly. “Don’t budge!”
She swept away and Gold turned to Regina, who was red with embarrassment. “God, I’m so sorry,” she moaned, rubbing at her forehead. “She just showed up and you know how she gets...there was no getting rid of her, especially when she found out about the party.”
“I will not play nice with her, Regina, even for you.”
“I don’t expect you to. Maybe you’ll be rude enough to finally get rid of her.”
Gold raised his eyebrows. “The last time I saw her I threatened to toss water on her so she would melt. She giggled and said all I needed to do to make her melt was say her name. What exactly do you expect me to do, slap her?”
“I wouldn’t rule it out.”
“You owe me,” he sighed.
“Big time.”
“Here we are!” Zelena had reappeared with a generously filled tumbler in her hand. Gold nodded in acknowledgement, took a sip, and made a face.
“What is this?”
“Johnnie Walker, just like you asked for!”
“What label?”
“Red, I think.”
“I did say ‘with my name on it,’ didn’t I?” Gold snarled.
“I don’t...Oh! that’s so clever! You meant the Gold label of course! I’m so silly, why didn’t I think of that?”
“I believe you just answered your own question.” With a huff Gold stalked to the bar to pour his own drink. Of course she wouldn’t have understood his obscure hint; how irrational and ridiculous would he have to be before she would leave him the hell alone?
It was a very long night. Regina had enlisted David and his wife Mary Margaret into a line of defense, of sorts, and they did their best to keep him occupied, but Zelena was like a bad stench - ever-present and impossible to ignore. She hovered at his elbow, whispered in his ear, giggled at his surliest remarks, and even “accidentally” brushed her hand across his backside once. Regina forced her sister to sit across the table and two places down from him, or he would probably have had to endure even worse indignities.
When the night was winding down he had to shut down three attempts to share a cab, and when he finally admitted he was driving his own car it seemed as if he would actually be forced to take her to her hotel.
“You’re leaving?” Regina exclaimed when she realized Gold was cornered. “But Zee, I’ve barely talked to you! You said you were flying back to London tomorrow; I was sure you’d spend the night here.”
“I wouldn’t want to impose, Gina, dear.”
“Impose? Don’t be silly. It’s been so long since we had a real visit. I insist, Zee.”
Zelena glanced around at the very interested party guests and smiled brightly. “Well...of course, sis. That would be marvelous.”
“Wonderful. Lovely to see you, Gold!” Regina practically shoved him out the door with a wink and a smile, and he was free.
The night air was crisp and clear, and if he lived closer and had two working feet he’d have walked home and returned for his car in the morning. Unfortunately, his apartment was nowhere near Park Avenue, and he would have to settle for driving with the window down. It hadn’t exactly been the relaxing evening talking with people he didn’t loathe he’d expected, but at least he’d reminded himself that he could in fact hold up his end of a casual conversation. After a night fending off Zelena’s advances, the next day’s meeting with Belle would be a welcome reprieve.
Gold didn’t want to think about how long he’d stood in front of his bathroom mirror trying to convince himself that he didn’t look as old as he knew he did. He’d never thought much of his own looks, but meeting a lovely young woman for coffee had awakened old insecurities that he wished had remained buried.
He saw Belle before she saw him, seated near a window and reading a thick book. She kept looking up, however, her fingers drumming on the pages of the book. As he drew closer, he saw that she was biting her lower lip.
Was she nervous?
When Gold was just outside the window, she finally saw him and the brilliance of her smile nearly took his breath away. She waved him in and leapt to her feet when he approached her table.
“Hey!” she exclaimed. “Long time no see!”
He raised his eyebrows. “It’s only been three days.”
“Well it seems longer.” She poked his arm with her finger. “I did talk to you pretty much every day for a month, y’know.”
“Hm.”
They were interrupted by a gum-popping waiter who took their orders with studied nonchalance, and then Gold was left to wonder what the hell he was doing here. She had no files or envelopes with her, and there was absolutely nothing in her eyes or smile to suggest that she was in any sort of trouble. In fact, she looked positively cheerful, leaning back in her chair so that the sun gleamed in her auburn hair.
“You said you were at a dinner last night? Somewhere special?”
“An old friend’s - I’ve known her a long time.”
Her smile dimmed a bit. “Oh. Was it just the two of you?”
“David and his wife were there - you remember David Nolan - and a few more of her friends. And her sister.” He couldn’t quite keep the growl out of his voice.
“I take it you’re not a fan of her sister.”
Gold grimaced and shook his head. “Insufferable woman.”
“I hope you enjoyed yourself anyway.”
Shrugging, Gold reached for his drink and wondered what that searching look in her eyes meant. “It was alright. I’ve known Regina since she was a little girl and she’s pleasant company, and she’s always known how to entertain guests.”
Belle let out a little breath and sipped her own coffee.
“How was your weekend?” Gold wasn’t sure what had caused the uncomfortable silence that had fallen, but his question appeared to be the right one.
“Work stuff, mostly. When we have a show coming up I spend a lot of time at the gallery. And that’s fine, because it’s just me at home. Maybe I should’ve had a dinner party too; that apartment gets pretty lonely.” She ran her finger around the brim of her coffee cup and glanced up at him. “I’m, uh...actually thinking of selling it.”
“What?” Gold froze with his cup in the air. “After everything you went through to keep it?”
“It’s just such a big apartment, y’know?” Belle fidgeted a little in her seat. “I never really envisioned living in it alone, and I’m such a shrimp. I feel like I’m rattling around in all that empty space and...well, I think I could do with a change.”
“You won’t always be alone,” he said before he could think it through.
“You think so?” Her eyes were glowing suddenly and she smiled brilliantly.
“Of course I do.”
“Why?”
“You’re…” How had he got roped into this conversation? “Well, I mean you’re…”
She propped her chin on her hands and grinned even more widely. “I’m?”
Gorgeous. Incredible. Breathtaking. Perfect.
“Nice.”
For a moment she looked taken aback, but she recovered quickly. “Really? Nice?”
“Yes.”
Her eyes bore into his for a moment more. Whatever she found there must have satisfied her, because she leaned back in her chair again and smirked at him. “Hm. Well, for the record, I think you’re... nice ...too.”
“Um. Thank you.”
Belle tilted her head. “You wouldn’t mind doing me a favor, would you? Since I’m thinking of selling, I’m kind of looking for a new apartment. Not, like, actively searching, but I have a few feelers out. If I go see a place, would you mind coming with me?”
“I...Well, I suppose not. Don’t you have someone else you’d rather take?”
She hummed and scrunched her face up in thought. “Nope.” Her eyes swept over him in a way that made him feel a little overwarm. “I’ve been in your office and you obviously have very good taste, and I trust your judgment.” When he didn’t answer, some of the light went out of her eyes. “Of course, if it’s too much trouble…”
“No, no,” he said hastily. “I’d need a day’s notice in case I need to reschedule something, but…”
“Great!” She snatched up the check the waiter had brought over before he could reach it and winked at him. “You can buy next time.”
Next time? Next time?
Before he could formulate a response, her phone rang. Belle cursed, fishing it out of her bag. “Sorry, I’ll just...Hello? What?” Her voice lowered in pitch. “Oh, I’m so sorry, I thought...no, no of course you’re right, there’s no way...we’ll make it right, I pro-- yes, I’ll make it right. I’m on my way right now.” She stuck her tongue out at the phone and dropped it back in her purse. “I’m so sorry, Gold, that was Jeff Bucket, the artist for the show I told you about. He’s a little unhhppy with our setup and we open tomorrow, so…”
“It’s fine.”
“I’m really sorry. Things should calm down after this show, though. I’ll talk to you later?”
He nodded and rose, scarcely surprised when she pressed yet another kiss to his cheek. He even briefly considered returning the gesture, but she was out the door before he’d decided.
Just as well.
#rumbelle#rumbelle fic#aka the fic that will pop my smut cherry#i can't believe i actually updated this#maybe i'm getting my groove back#that would be nice
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