Gold cooked like a chef. Belle barely restrained herself enough to show some rudimentary table manners.

'This is absolutely delicious,' she said grinning and stuffing herself with another piece of scotch pie and rumbledethumps.

'Wait for the fruitcake!' Bae exclaimed. 'Papa makes the best fruitcakes in the whole Scotland!'

Gold blushed adorably under the praises.

'I'm glad you like it, Miss French,' he said shyly. 'My aunties taught me most of the recipes. Other I learned for Bae, I can't very well feed him with grease and sugar alone as seems to be the trend in our traditional cuisine.'

'Oh no, certainly,' Belle said between bites. 'I heard about deep-fried butter. I couldn't believe it at first.'

'Aye, one would be surprised at what can be deep-fried.'

'It would be a nice thing to try nevertheless,' Belle winked.

'I might do it for you then, Miss French.'

'Next time, then,' Belle said grinning even wider and proud of herself for securing their next meeting. 'It's a shame I can't really invite you back, but maybe I can offer another walk?'

'We can go to the island!' Bae interrupted.

'Well, I suppose so...' Gold hesitated, but the look he gave Belle was hopeful.

'I'd love to,' she said quickly. 'Do you go there often?'

'No,' Bae said. 'But we went once this summer with doctor Whale, Mr. Jefferson and Grace.'

Bae stopped talking, looking suddenly pensive. Gold equally suddenly got up.

'I'll go get the fruitcake!' he said and fled to the kitchen.

'I didn't meet doctor Whale or Mr. Jefferson yet,' Belle said, a bit unsure if she should even ask.

'Doctor Whale is our GP,' Gold said, coming back with the cake. 'He lives in the next village, same as Jefferson. It's not like there is enough people here to warrant a doctor all for ourselves.'

He quickly and deftly cut the cake, giving Belle a generous slice.

'It's actually called the Dundee cake,' he explained. 'You can buy it in every supermarket, but I just don't believe in pre-made food.'

'It's wonderful,' Belle murmured with mouth full of delightful sweetness. 'You could open your own restaurant.'

'Ah, I think the market is saturated here.'

He aimed for light tone, but even then Belle heard a sad note.

'Well, I would prefer your food over Mrs Lucas' any time.′

Gold smiled at her thankfully. How cute he was with that shy smile. But cute or not, she was growing a bit impatient. He didn't seem to even notice that she might be interested in him a bit more that a journalist in a valuable source, not to mention more that being just friends. Speeding things, however, seemed dangerous, and Belle forced herself to hold back her impatience.

After the dinner and some light conversation, Bae went to sleep, despite his, polite but still, protests. Belle hoped that it meant that Gold wanted to be alone with her. But even if it were so, Belle couldn't test the theory in practice, for suddenly the doorbell rang. She only hoped it wasn't Mrs Lucas with the angry crowd and another half-baked accusations towards Gold.

'Jefferson?' Belle heard Gold's voice and curiously peeked out from the living room. A young man dressed in brown jacket and tartan foulard stood in the doors, smiling widely, but somewhat... unnervingly. Belle was certain she haven't seen him in the village so far. She would remember.

'So this is your mysterious guest, Gold?' the man exclaimed loudly. 'I've heard from my wee Grace, who knew from your Bae of course, that you're hoisting a dinner.'

'Well, Jefferson...' Gold stammered. 'Well, we actually already have eaten. But please, come in. Meet Belle French, a journalist from London. Miss French, this is my friend, Jefferson...'

Belle smiled and exchanged a handshake with Jefferson. He seemed to be almost as interesting character as Gold himself, but for now Belle hoped he wouldn't stay too long. However, soon they were all sitting in the living room, Belle smiling politely, Jefferson talking, and Gold doing everything he can to entertain his new guest.

After a while Belle started to feel jealous. Seriously, Gold and Jefferson both lived here and could meet anytime. She didn't. She was supposed to be the guest today. Did Gold really liked Jefferson so much?

'I think we are leaving your beautiful guest out and alone,' Jefferson said as on cue. He looked around. 'Oh, I know! Maybe she'd like some poetry?′

Before anyone could say anything, Jefferson leaped for the highest shelf of the bookcase, retrieving a small, red, leather-bound tome. Belle's curiosity piqued, it was a book after all! Jefferson, standing with the book in hands, opened it at random and started reading.

It was poetry. Sweet and delicate, with a sad side beneath it, a bit uncertain and awkward sometimes, but Belle found it very enjoyable. She nodded for Jefferson to read more.

Only after a few minutes of listening, she glanced at Gold – and panicked a little. He had the most bereft expression on his face. His eyes were fixed on Jefferson in silent plea, and Belle really found the 'deer in the headlights' phrase fitting here.

'W-what's wrong?' she asked, cutting into Jefferson's exclamations. Gold didn't look at her, probably didn't hear or didn't thought she was addressing him. But Jefferson actually smirked.

'Oh, sweet Miss French. You don't realize who the author is. Aren't you curious?'

He turned the book in his hands, so she could see the inside. The pages were filled with handwriting.

Now it made sense.

'Please, put it away, Mr. Jefferson,' she said sharply. 'I think it's enough. You shouldn't grab people's personal things without asking and getting consent.'

'Aww, please, Miss French,' Jefferson laughed. 'No harm done. It's quite nice poetry, don't you think? Every Scot wants to write something.'

'Still, you shouldn't have.'

'You're a journalist, Miss French. Surely you don't stop in searching information just because someone tells you to stop. Besides, it's just in a good fun, right Gold?'

Gold actually managed to nod and smile. Reassuringly smile.

'Yes, of course,' he said. 'Miss French, thank you, but it's okay.'

It wasn't okay and Belle knew it perfectly. For now, however, she decided to play it as Gold wanted to. Thankfully, Jefferson, as if sensing that he stirred enough trouble for one evening, politely bid them goodbye and left.

'Well, he can be a bit of a handful,' Gold said in a light, apologetic tone, when they were again sitting alone in the living room. 'I hope he wasn't too irritating for you, Miss French?'

'Mr. Gold...' Belle sighed, feeling the need to shake him a bit. 'He was more rude to you, not me. He shouldn't read your poetry. It's personal! He shouldn't! I didn't realize he was doing that. I would never do that to you, I swear.'

Gold flinched a little and Belle wouldn't be surprised if he wasn't able to believe her completely. After all she most certainly enjoyed the reading and encouraged Jefferson to continue. But then Gold just sighed.

'No, no, it's okay...'

'I saw how you looked at him,' Belle said in a low, careful voice. 'It wasn't okay.'

Gold shook his head at that, cringing. Did she imagine that, or were his eyes shining?

'It was okay, Miss French...' he sighed again. 'Jefferson... He lost his wife a few months ago. It's not easy. How could I complain about such thing when he...'

Now Belle wanted to hug him as well. Hard.

'I'm not sure,' she said carefully, 'but hurting you wouldn't help him, I think.'

'And I'm not sure if I'm able to help him in any other way,' Gold said sadly. 'I'm no good at it, no matter the context.'

'Maybe you're too hard on yourself?' Belle carefully changed her seats to sit next to him on the couch and reached her hand to gently rest it on his. Gold didn't protest, though he looked at her with surprise. 'You won't be able to help with everything, no one is.'

He just shook his head. Maybe it was too much, too soon for him to talk this openly with her. He seemed to be very private man, and this privacy was just violated.

'I'm terrible at it, no matter how I try,' he said suddenly, in a quiet voice, looking at the carpet. 'Even if someone straight away tells me what he or she wants. I just... can't do it right.'

'Oh,' she said, not sure what to say, but willing to listen if he needed to talk. She didn't think he had many occasions to talk to another adult about things that was hard for him to do.

'Or maybe I just can't do anything that anyone would...' He blinked as if realizing how much he said then blushed. 'I'm terribly sorry, Miss French. It was not my place to complain like this...′

'It's okay, Mr. Gold. I don't mind,' Belle assured him best as she could.

'...Why?' he asked her in a small voice. Before she could think of an answer, he continued. 'I certainly didn't do anything for you to be this... kind. On the contrary, you had to experience the whole series of unpleasantness, what, with that gossip, and now the awkwardness of this poetry reading, and I can all too well imagine what Mrs Lucas and others must have told you about and because of me...'

'Hey, stop it. You don't have to give me anything first so I would be kind. Really.'

'No, I... I'm sorry,' he admitted. 'I just feel like I should and yet always fail at that, even if no one is asking me for impossible after all, just maybe for something unpleasant... But I know you don't need to be bribed to be kind. I like that about you.'

This sounded a little bit more lucid and reasonable. It probably was good, even if Belle could still argue some point. Though she surely liked his shy, quick look at her coupled with a tentative smile.

'Well, I surely don't need to be bribed,' Belle confirmed. 'Also, if you need something from me, I'm happy to give it, you know?'

He was looking at her with an amazement now.

'I wish I could learn how to do that.'

'Do what?'

'To know what to do or say... or give. Then maybe... maybe it would be all different. The village... At least before... Maybe even nothing bad would happen...'

Belle felt lost. Did he just think he should please everybody, so they would like him? Seeing how his relations with the rest of the village was, he probably did. They laughed at him, shunned him aside – at best, and accused him of unspeakable things at worst.

'People don't always know what they want...' she said hesitantly. 'It's not about... doing everything as they demand.' To be honest she felt out of her depth too. Maybe that was it? 'I'm not sure what would be best to say to you now. I just hope it would help...'

'It's okay, it's okay!' he cut in, suddenly panicked. What now? 'It's okay, you don't have to... I shouldn't have...'

'I'm glad to help in any way I can,' she repeated. 'Really.'

'Aye, I know, thank you,' Gold said immediately, looking down, like chastised child. Belle decided that more drastic measures were in need.

Slowly, she reached her arms, enveloping him in a hug. She wasn't sure if she's doing this because he looked like needing it, or just because she wanted to so much, but he didn't protest. At first he stiffened, but then relaxed, with his head on her shoulder. And he didn't actually say anything, which Belle choose to consider a good sign.

They sat like this for a good five minutes and Belle loved every second of this. She only wished it wasn't because Gold was hurt and distressed. Maybe next time they both would be in a better mood for enjoying this.

'I'm sorry, Miss French...' he said finally in a small voice. But he didn't move and she was glad for this.

'Belle. Please call me Belle.'

He gasped softly.

'I-I'm Robert.'

Belle smiled widely. That was a step in a right direction.

'Bae's mother...' he said, seemingly out of blue, 'she always made sure to tell me what she wanted. I was really glad, even if she were harsh about this. But in time, she started to want things I couldn't manage to do right. I was even becoming worse and worse at this... She left shortly after Bae was born. With an Irishman, a ship captain that was here on holidays... When she called a few days ago that I have to pick up Bae, it was because she decided to leave with her captain to France and she was dropping Bae at her friend's house for the night so they could depart early... She was dropping her son like... like he didn't matter at all! At stranger's place!'

'She shouldn't,' Belle said definitely. In her head she thanked every god that listened that Milah was within range when Graham called her. If she were somewhere at sea and didn't pick up the phone...

'I try to give Bae an opportunity to spend time with her. I have full custody, but she's still his mother... I don't think I can manage to do all the things alone, there must be a lot of things only mother would know how to do...'

Belle shook her head.

'There's no need to explain yourself to me, Robert.'

'Still... But it's hard to do things right when there's no one else to tell you when you're making a mistake. I don't know if I'm overprotective or if I'm too strict or something else... And like with anyone else, I'll finally let him down and...'

'Hey, shh...' Belle hugged him harder. How did that happened? She wouldn't think it possible that he could open up to her like this, not at this speed. But maybe having her here, ready to listen and support, broke the dam. He surely was bottling all this up long enough.

'I'd do everything for Bae if I knew how... But I don't want him to feel... bad if... if it's too much. I don't want to smother him. Is it making sense?′

'Yes, it is... But from what I've seen, you're a great father and Bae adores you.'

'Oh... Thank you... '

'I really think so,' Belle assured him. 'Maybe you are worrying too much?...'

'I don't know.'

Well, Belle didn't in fact know too, but would be willing to bet quite much that she was right.

'I just... I know that giving too much is in fact taking,' he said in a small voice. 'But it's hard to spot or control.'

'From what I've seen, you're doing a good job.'

'And yet my son is a son of village...' he hesitated, 'outcast,' he finished lamely, though Belle had a feeling he wanted to tell something else. 'He's amazing, he has friends in school, and the school is not here but in another village, that helps... But here... And you've seen how it was with that gossip about Milah... being dead.'

'I did,' Belle rubbed his shoulder. 'It was totally unfair.'

'It was totally unfair to Bae,' Robert whispered. 'But I'm really not much better than they say.'

'Allow me to disagree,' Belle said drily.

Robert didn't protest. But after a while he sat straighter, disentangling himself from Belle's embrace. And he avoided her eyes, preferring to stare at the carpet. Or maybe her feet if Belle was lucky.

'Robert?' she prompted gently.

'I'm sorry,' he cringed. 'I feel bad for making you...' he gesticulated vaguely.

'Making me? You didn't make me do anything I didn't want to. The embrace? I really wanted to hug you.'

He looked at her with wide eyes, but he actually looked at her and this was progress.

'Robert, really. I like you. I know we know each other very shortly, but... Well, I wouldn't be opposed to knowing you better... At a pace that we are both comfortable with,' she added quickly seeing how pale he turned. 'Am I scaring you that much?' she asked bluntly. Subtlety might not be even noticed, she tried to justify it in her head.

'No! No!' Robert exclaimed adding to it frantic hand movements and quick blinking. 'Just... It... It's not... not what I learned to expect.'

'What did you learn to expect?' Belle asked gently hoping it would help to get some things out of the way.

'To... to be told what is wrong with me,' he said with painful sincerity. 'To have other people, well-meaning if I'm lucky, to point out the flaws. Why didn't you?'

Why? Belle frowned. Why would she? But he was waiting for the serious answer.

'I just don't believe that pointing flaws all the time is a proper way to... to do anything, especially to interact with people. And even more especially with people I care about,' she added, to remove possible misunderstanding.

'Oh...'

'You're not criticizing Bae like that,' she said pointedly. 'And I don't criticize you.'

'But...'

'If you want to say that you and Bae are different in that regard, I can already say that I don't think so. And it's not the matter of differences. You could be... be an Emperor Palpatine and I wouldn't think that criticizing you would change you a bit! Though I have no idea what would change him, but that's not the point... And I don't want to change you. Why would I?′

He was looking a bit shell-shocked, with open mouth and general air of being lost. Belle hoped it was more about Palpatine than about her last question.

'Almost everybody else did?' he offered weakly. 'And with a good reason? I'm not used to have someone just...'

'Just liking what I see?'

'Aye. In any way possible.'

'Well, I do. In any way possible.'

'At least I'm not Palpatine...' he smiled weakly. Belle chose to smile along, even if it was a bit self-depreciating.

'You're much more, Robert.'

He wriggled a bit, looking cutely bashful, and in a good way this time. They exchanged a little smile and Belle took his hand again.

'So? Is this the beginning of a beautiful... relationship?'

Robert blushed.

'Slowly?'

'As you need it.'

'But you don't have much time,' he pointed out. 'You'd be returning to London.'

'I can stay here for quite a long time. With Internet I don't have to be present there to work. I can do a series of articles about Highlands. And you can tell me so much more about them, I'm sure.'

'Okay.'

'And if it works...' she paused for a moment. 'Then we'll see.'

He smiled again, not looking one hundred percent convinced, but Belle was willing to take what she could get. She didn't expect him to plan their whole life together at this point. Even if she found that fantasy quite entertaining.

They went to wash the dishes together then. Belle was absolutely adamant that she would help. No pleas were listened to. Robert still tried to do most of the work, but Belle at least got to dry the plates and pots. As the beginning of said life together, it was quite a promising one.