Disclaimer: I don't own Once Upon A Time or any of the characters and storylines in the show. This is just a fanwork made for fun.
This whole fic was first half beta-ed by Ethereal_Wishes and second half BeastlyCheese.
"Do you, Adam, accept this woman as your wife?"
Showing a smirk, Gold nodded his head, saying: "Yes."
"And do you, Milah, accept this man as your husband?" The priest asked turning to the bride.
The look on her face was a little frightened, her eyes wide in despair as she gripped her bouquet of flowers desperately. Her hair was pulled back in a tight bun, her white dress so beautiful, she had the entire congregation spellbound, but she wasn't feeling happy and bright at all, just nauseous.
Swallowing back the bile in her throat, she decided she couldn't take it, daring to pronounce: "No."
Those words had haunted him ever since he'd left the church. Gold felt ashamed to be left at the altar, with Milah denying to marry him, but he had to go on, tell the guests to enjoy the freaking party that he had already payed for, as he took his car and went to a bar, the distant one from the place where he should be celebrating his wedding, sitting at the counter and asking for some whiskey.
He took a long sip from his glass, eyes fixed on all the coloured bottles placed carefully on the shelves, a sigh leaving him, as he thought about the great mess that his life had become in just a few hours. His son should be with his nanny by now, asking himself what exactly was happening, why the party had been cancelled and what Milah's final word meant for them, but he couldn't face his precious boy now. Gold needed time and more than anything, he needed a drink.
Feeling the whiskey burn his throat, he tried to analyse every single moment of his life with Milah, in an attempt to understand why she had run away, but he stopped when a beautiful brunette slid on the stool next to him.
"Hi," she said with a small smile, her lips plump and kissable. Gold banished the thought from his mind, feeling foolish for thinking such.
"Oh, hi," he greeted, more to be polite than anything else, because he wasn't the kind of man who enjoyed picking up women in a bar.
When he took better look at her, he became more certain that he shouldn't be speaking to her. She was clearly a lot younger than him, her bright blue eyes shining as she took the tequila she had asked the barman for, drinking it all at once. Her black dress was short and tight, showing every curve of her body, her curled hair falling around her shoulders, beautifully.
"Tough night?" The girl asked, noticing how despondent he appeared.
He nodded in agreement. "The worst."
"Me too," she said in a languid tone. "I hate my job."
She asked for a whiskey, exactly the same one as his, without knowing what he was drinking. Her fingers closed around the glass, her nails coloured with a dark-blue polish. The girl seemed to be nice, but looked extremely upset and even though he was in pain himself, he couldn't help but feel some empathy for her and decided to keep being polite and continue their conversation.
"May I ask why?" he questioned.
"I'm a librarian, just like my mother was," she shrugged, taking a sip of her drink. "I used to love books when I was a kid, but ever since she died, I hate them."
All that came in response from him at first was a blink. She wasn't exactly the kind of person that he would imagine as a librarian, maybe because of the dress and all the make-up she was wearing or maybe it was just the fact that she was drinking like a fish. "So why do you keep your job?"
"She would like me to and my dad drinks as much as me, but he doesn't work a lot," the girl said, her tone full of mordacity. "Someone has to bring food home in order to survive."
Adam knew that tone very well, because he used it most of the time with most people, but there was a difference between them, he was an old man with a horrible backstory, and she was just as young and delicate as a rosebud and shouldn't have been going through the pain her words and actions implied.
"You seem too young to be so bitter," he replied, nursing his drink in his hands.
"Life can be cruel with anybody, it doesn't choose a specific age," she mumbled, fingertips tracing the edge of her glass. A smirk filled her lips as she looked up straight at him. "So, why are you having a tough night, mister..." she halted, pining for a name.
"Gold. Adam Gold."
"Lacey French," the girl introduced herself, stretching out her hand to offer him a shake, which he returned. "Will you answer the question?"
He needed to drink another sip to do so, but he wasn't going to give silence to Lacey, because he thought that she was the kind of person who deserved an answer.
"Today was supposed to be my wedding, but my bride, Milah, she said the big no and ran away."
"What a bitch," Lacey scoffed, making his eyes go wide.
"I guess it was my fault," Gold said, shrinking.
"Why? Did you cheat on her with one of the bridesmaids?"
"No! Why would I?" He defended himself. "I'm a difficult man to deal with. Just that."
And he wasn't lying. Gold was a busy lawyer, very sarcastic, very bitter and used to say the wrong thing almost always. Milah, well, she wanted exactly all he wasn't willing to give her, some kind of epic love that would lead her to greatness and a remarkable life.
"The bridesmaids would be more interesting. Plus, I think I've read something like this in a book," she remarked.
"I thought you hated books," he furrowed his brow inquisitively at her.
"I do. Most time," Lacey said with a secretive smile, finishing her drink. "A girl needs entertainment and not just from the bottom of a glass."
"You're exquisite," he breathed, drinking her all in.
"Thank you," the brunette returned with a smile, then pointed at their empty glasses, "another?"
"Please," Gold accepted, letting Lacey call the barman again to ask for another two whiskeys. He observed her the whole time, the fierce expression on her face mixed with the sadness in her eyes, and he wondered how she could seem to be two different people at once. One hidden soul behind a hard shell. "What happened at your work that's got you so upset?" Adam asked.
Lacey took a long deep breath, eyes fixed on the amber liquid as she worried her lower lip. "A woman spent the whole afternoon reading to her daughter right in front of my desk."
"Let me guess, that reminded you of your mother?" Adam surmised.
"Perceptive," she pointed with a smile, taking a sip of her drink. "Not drunk enough to forget what I just said."
"I shouldn't drink much," Gold confessed. "I still have a son to take care of."
"Really?" The brunette blinked. "So, the runaway bitch was your second try?"
He waved his head at the thought that someone that seemed to have such a beautiful soul like her shouldn't be speaking like that. Not that Milah didn't deserve that moniker, mainly after leaving the church the way she did, but even though Lacey's behaviour said the very opposite, he wanted to believe that she was just layered and all her walls were up for a reason.
And, she was looking straight at him like he had suddenly gotten too drunk to answer her, which he didn't. Gold was just too lost in his own musings.
"Oh, no," he finally managed to say. "She is the mother, and I guess little Bae was the only reason she was going to marry me, but it seems that not even he could make her stay."
"I'm starting to hate this Milah," Lacey muttered.
When he heard those words coming out of her mouth, a smirk stretched across his lips. "Not drunk enough to forget her name."
"I never get this drunk. I need to take care of myself and not let strange men in bars take me to their beds, when I'm out of my senses," Lacey admonished.
"Smart girl," Gold replied, letting his eyes wander around the place, taking in some of the details.
He hated the loud nonsensical music that was playing; he hated the fact that most men in here were just idiots trying to get a single woman like Lacey in their beds. That wasn't a place for him, he should be at home with his son, trying to figure out what to do next, but he actually was enjoying her company very much, even though they were only having a meaningless, half-drunk conversation. Gold was about to ask her another question, when he saw a couple entering the bar, but what got his attention was the fact that they weren't just any couple, but Milah and a guy in black leather jacket.
"Oh fuck," he mumbled under his breath.
"What is it?" Lacey asked.
"Milah."
Quickly, her blue eyes flew to them, going wide. "Whoa, the runaway bitch is here?"
His heart was racing and he was getting nervous, tipping his fingers anxiously on the glass. He had gone to the farthest bar away from his house, from the church, their stupid town had, and she had gone there too? How was that possible?
"Can you stop saying those words?" He almost begged Lacey.
"No, that's what I'm calling her from now on," she returned with a playful smile, drinking the rest of her whiskey all at once and standing up.
"Do you play billiards?" She queried, her eyes dark and brooding.
"I don't think so," he added, feeling his breath hitch in his throat from the way she gazed at him.
Rolling her eyes, Lacey pulled him from his stool, appearing to have a whole plan going through her sharp mind.
"Now you do. Just follow me, and here," she led his fingers until they curled around the fabric of her black dress, which caused him to inhale sharply. "Place your hands on my waist," she commanded.
She walked right in front of him, keeping her hands in place. Lacey was a petite person and even with her high heels, she was still smaller than him, but what really bothered Gold was the fact that he was more in contact with her than he wished to be. And somehow, in some strange way, he was enjoying it.
"What are you doing?" He hissed when she led him to the billiard table.
"Showing that you don't care," Lacey smiled, taking a stick. "I'll go first!"
At the other end of the bar, where she sat with the man in the leather jacket, Milah saw them and almost spit out her drink, coughing repeatedly, fixing her gaze on them, as if she was trying to be sure that it was really Gold who was in the bar with a girl much younger than both of them.
"She is looking at us," he muttered uncomfortably.
Reclining herself, Lacey did the first shot, but none of the balls reached the holes, and she gestured for him to do the same. "I know, she is supposed to. If you want to know, you didn't lose a thing by not marrying her, she is not that pretty."
A small chuckle left his mouth as he also took a stick and positioned it to make his shot. Adam aimed a blue ball and hit the white one, making it go straight into the middle hole.
"Very good," Lacey complimented, taking a quick look at Milah to see that she was still glancing at them. Wanting to give her what she deserved, she approached Adam, smiling at him seductively and touching his tie. "Kiss me, Mr. Gold."
"What - " he stammered in disbelief.
However, she didn't let him finish his sentence. Lacey captured his lips in a heated kiss, and suddenly he was just a man in the bar, kissing that random pretty girl with no regret of the past. For that moment, he let go. He palmed her neck, pressing the beautiful brunette against the billiard table, sliding his tongue against her lips until she parted them, letting their tongues dance together in an incredibly slow rhythm.
It was the first time he'd kissed someone other than Milah in years, and the taste of whiskey in Lacey's mouth, plus the way she was running her nails through his hair and massaging his scalp, sent delicious shivers through his body. God, he knew her for twenty whole minutes, and he already wanted her. He never felt this way about anyone in his whole life, this sudden recognition, as if her soul was being drawn to his from the moment she sat by him, as if she was this part of him he'd been missing this whole time.
And, of course, he knew those thoughts were crazy, and it must only be alcohol speaking for itself, starting to affect his subconscious, but right now, he was lost in Lacey French, and he didn't want to be found anymore. She moaned in his mouth, pulling him closer so her whole body was in contact with his. They were probably offering the bar a small show, and he was about to pull away, when the shadow of another woman stopped right in front of them, storming out.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Milah practically screamed.
Lacey laughed before turning around to look at her, a smile of pure mockery playing upon her lips. "Excuse me?"
"You should be home with, Bae!" Milah accused Adam, ignoring her completely. "You should be taking care of your son, instead of coming to bars to hook up with minors!"
"Minor? I'm twenty-five!" Lacey protested.
"How ridiculous you sound. Isn't that the same you're doing, dearie?" Gold shouted back. "And now I see very clearly why you ran away from that church. Him."
Adam's eyes analysed the man behind Milah, gripping at her arm and insisting that she go back to their table or leave with him. He was much younger and more handsome than he would ever be, but if she had been honest with him and told him about that guy, without making a fool of him in front of all their family and friends, Gold could've been more forgiving.
"Listen, mate - " the man started.
"I'm not your mate!" Gold seethed, a hand firmly pressed on Lacey's waist.
He could feel his blood boiling with rage; he couldn't understand how Milah even dared to come over to speak to him, to accuse him of something, when she was the one who had sabotaged everything he'd been planning the past year.
"Please, let's go to another place, Milah," the man said in a low, persuasive tone, "he is not worth your time. That's what you said to me earlier, remember?"
Taking a deep breath, she nodded. "At least I know the nanny knows how to take care of a child," she complained, "and you're right, he is not worth anyone's time. I bet he is paying this little whore for her company."
Lacey gasped. "Listen up, bitch, I'm no whore."
In the next moment, she had pulled away from him and slapped Milah hard across the face. Lacey had gone to a lot of bars ever since her mother's death. She had kissed lots guys, got some terrible headaches due to hangovers, but she had never got involved in any fight, however this woman had really annoyed her and when Milah returned the slap, Lacey kicked her hard in the shin, only to be dragged away by Gold.
"Are you mad?" He asked when he took her out of there, the people inside the bar following them with their eyes until they passed through the front door. "You didn't have to do that!"
"I didn't?" Lacey questioned. "She called me a whore! And she just insulted you!"
"Aye, but that doesn't matter," Gold said, looking for any abrasions on her skin. "Did she hurt you?"
"No, she has no strength," the brunette said in a distant voice.
She was looking down the street as if she was trying to take everything in, shivering with the cold of the night. Adam took off his jacket and placed it around her shoulders, making Lacey look startlingly at him, like this small gesture meant too much to her. He brushed his fingertips across her flushed cheek, remembering their kiss and wanting more than anything to do it again.
"Would you allow me to take you out for coffee?" Adam inquired.
Biting her lip, Lacey considered his offer for a moment. "The library has a coffee maker, and I have the keys. What do you say about having some kind of midnight adventure with me, Mr. Gold?"
"I think," he started with a smirk, "that's exactly what I need right now."
Taking his hand, she took him to the library and even though it wasn't with Milah, Adam Gold had something of a proper wedding night, but with someone who seemed to be worth his time, more so than the woman he was intending to marry.
Lacey stood nervously in front of the huge building that contained Mr. Adam Gold's law firm in her most modest outfit, a small paper bag in her hands, deciding if she should enter. It had been exactly six weeks since their meeting at that seedy bar, and she'd looked for his address on the internet, but now that she was here, she wasn't sure about anything.
During the last week, Lacey had made an important decision and that was what had brought her there, to him, the one man who had been capable of making her forget the stupid person she had turned herself into after her mother's death for a night, because he had looked at her like he saw everything she was hiding. That healing time they both had, she would never be able to forget it, and Lacey was more than grateful for what he had done for her, how this broken man had healed her soul.
Now, Lacey felt like she owed him this, stifling back her anxiety, the brunette closed her fingers tightly around the paper bag, took a deep breath and pushed the front door of the building open.
She had a deal to offer him.