Title: The Cheshire Cat

Rating: K+

One-Shot

Author Note: Suppose to be set in the 50sish. This is still a rather rough draft and am still looking up a few things but for the most part it is complete. I was not planning on making it very long, just a short piece inspired by some of my favorite songs/singers. I was torn between 20s and 50s, two of my favorite time periods but after watching the American Dad episode where Hayley sings, it kind of just decided it for me. Because who doesn't love Ella Fitzgerald? Only me? No? Okay. If inspiration strikes again I may be tempted to make another little snippet or do another pairings for this. But in any case, enjoy ladies and gents. Feedback much appreciated.

Part 1

Isabelle French (Belle to her friends) paced the dressing room of The Cheshire Cat nervously. She had been hired by Storybrooke's popular lounge club a few days ago to sing and this was her first night on stage. Her mind was currently unhelpfully supplying a myriad of possibilities on how this could all possibly go wrong.

What if she forgot the words? What if they hated her? What if she tripped over her gown? She had borrowed the lovely champagne colored dress from her friend Ruby. Belle would feel awful if she had to return it with a tear or worse, stained!

"It's okay, you can do this. Nothing will go wrong," She told herself. "Just pretend it's like rehearsals, except with a bunch of people staring at you."

The sudden knock at the dressing room door caused her to jump a bit in suprise before she turned to see the manager poking his head in.

"5 minutes to show time gorgeous. So be ready."

She smiled nervously, "Thank you, Jefferson."

He smiled back at her and said, "You'll do great. The crowd is going to love you."

Then with a tip of his hat, he was gone. Belle stole one last glance at herself in the mirror, rechecking her makeup and smoothing the front of the gown before she made her way to the stage entrance. She took a peak around the curtain just as the previous singer was finishing the last few notes of the song "These Foolish Things". Nearly every table was filled and she could see her friends at the very back waiting for her to go on.

When the time finally arrived, she took a deep breath to help quell her nerves and stepped up to the mic. Belle looked out at her friends, who waved happily and gave her a thumbs up as the first few notes of the song began to play. She took another breath and put on her best smile, then began to sing.

There's a saying old says that love is blind

Still were often told, seek and ye shall find

So Im going to seek a certain lad Ive had in mind

She tried to keep her eyes focused on her friends in the back of the room as she sang just in case. The feeling of every eye in the room on her was both unnerving and exhilirating. Belle had had some reservations about taking the job, she only ever sang for fun when cleaned at her father's flower shop. But once the manager heard her singing, he had offered her a couple nights a week at the club. She had turned it down almost instantly. It was just a hobby, not a career. Her real dream was to one day reopen the old library after the owner had died five years prior causing it to be sold by the owners son whose only interest was in earning money not managing a library. If she had not still been with that fool Garrett at the time, Belle might have been able to buy it off of him, but sadly, as she later found, he had gambled it away.

The manager had left his number just in case she changed her mind, though at the time Belle had had no intention of doing so. At least not until Ruby had pounced on her once she heard telling her it was a great opportunity. Between her and Mary Margaret, they managed to convince her that it would surely help in the long run to speed up the process of reopening the library. It was only a couple nights and she could quite any time she wanted if she really hated it that much.

Belle was sort of glad that she had taken the chance now that she was up here, dolled up and singing. There was something almost magical about seeing the couples swaying on the dance floor while she sang. It was beautiful.

There's a somebody I'm longing to see

I hope that he turns out to be

Someone who'll watch over me

As Belle switched from watching her friends to the couples swaying to the music, she missed the man at the far end of the bar gazing at her intently as he sipped his drink. There was something so captivating about the sound of her voice and the flow of brown curls over her shoulder. He thought she was absolutely beautiful and talented to boot. His eyes followed her as the song ended and she exited the stage. Once she was out of site, he turned to his companion, the manager of the club.

"Jefferson, what is that woman's name?"

Part 2

It had been a little over a month since Lionel Gold had first heard her sing. He had come every weekend since just to hear her sing. It was silly really. That he could be so infatuated with a woman he knew pretty much nothing about except that she sang beautifully and looked like it too. Oh, and also that her name was Belle. Such a fitting name. Jefferson had teased him the rest of the night and the next before he finally told him.

"Her name is Isabelle French, but she prefers Belle."

And when the man noticed him coming every night she sang, he teased him some more. Then he had told her she worked at a flower shop in the middle of town the rest of the week and that pretty girls usually liked roses. Lionel pretended to ignore him but in his mind he was already thinking about whether it would be weird to get flowers for a woman who sold them herself. He hadn't quite made up his mind yet until he made his way over to the club that night and saw a man at the corner selling single roses from a basket at his feet. He didn't notice a certain club manager sneaking up behind him and shoving one of the roses into his hands.

"Well, go on. Pay the man and then ask the lady out."

"She's much to young for me. I am sure she would prefer someone closer to her age."

"Nonesense! She leaves at 10 and uses the side entrance of the club. Go wait for her there."

"Won't that make me look a bit...like a stalker?"

"Of course not. Off you go now."

Damn that Jefferson! He thought as he waited for her to leave. He felt like an old fool and yes, just a bit like a stalker. It would have been better if he had just gave her the rose backstage once she was done for the night. Or would that have been worse? How did he get himself into this?

Lionel felt nervous. It had been years since he had shown any real interest in a woman much less asked one out. Not since his wife had up and left him for a much younger man, leaving him to raise their son on his own. This woman was sure to reject him. A young lady like Isabelle wouldn't want to go out with someone almost twice her age. He should leave now before he made a fool of himself.

As Lionel turned to leave he heard the sound of the door opening and the light from inside the club spilled out onto the sidewalk. He saw her out of the corner of his eye. She looked like an angel in her white gown and the light reflecting in the background.

"Oh, hello. Are you looking for someone?" She asked, flashing him a smile.

He figeted with the front of his coat, readjusting it unnecessarily, and then held out the rose to her.

"You sang beautifully tonight. Well you sing, beautifully every night but...Would you like to have dinner with me some time? When you aren't singing of course," Gold blurted out.

She stared back at him blankly for a few seconds. Damn, he knew this would happen. He was about to apologize when Belle finally responded, "Sure, I'd love to."

He stared at her dumbfounded. Had he heard her right, "What?"

She giggled softly and took the rose from him, "I said I would love to have dinner with you. But only if you give me your name first. I can't entirely agree without knowing who you are first."

"Oh, of course. I am Lionel Gold, I own the pawnshop around the corner."

"Pleased to meet you, Lionel. I am Isabelle French, but you can call me Belle."

"Such a lovely name."

Belle flashed him another smile as twirled the rose in her hand. He loved the way her sapphire eyes lit up when she smiled.

"Thank you. Um, it's a bit late. Would you care to walk me home? If you're not busy of course. I live about a block away."

This had to be a dream. Not only had she agreed to have dinner with him but she was also asking him to walk her home. He felt like his heart would beat out of his chest.

"Ye-Yes of course! A lady should not be out on her own this late at night."

Belle looped her arm around the crook of his elbow on the side not holding his cane.

"Shall we?"

Gold nodded and allowed her to steer them in the right direction, trying to to flush at how close she was. He focused instead on her scent. Belle French smelled just like the rose she was holding. Such a wonderful smell.