I do not own Once Upon A Time.

I do not own Dead Fish. (Because ew they smell)

I have been trying to finish this quickly, so unfortunately I haven't betaed any of these chapters. Just spell check. So I apologize if it seems rough.

This fic is meant to take place from about a week-ish before and covering the timeline and events of the movie "Dead Fish". Rumbelle Secret Santa prompt fill for Riskpig. "Develle. Belle works for rent."


Belle curled up on the couch, wrapping herself in the length of fleece that had become her favorite blanket. She'd had them cut her a length of it at the fabric store one day with plans of making it into something. That never happened, but as it turned out, it never needed to. It was three weeks away from Christmas and the cold, dark, evenings made it increasingly tempting to curl up on the couch with her blanket - watching movies and drinking hot chocolate.

She'd just begun to become immersed in the budding romance between the two main characters on the screen before her when the phone rang, jarring her out of her concentration. Belle didn't make a move to answer it. The phone was mounted on the wall across the room, and the least appealing thing in the world right now seemed to be the idea of climbing out of her cocoon of fleece to answer it. After several rings the answering machine picked up, and her dad's recorded voice filled the room.

"Thank you for calling Game of Thorns. Our hours are 9am to 5pm Monday through Saturday. If you've reached this message during business hours we may be out on delivery or cannot get to the phone. Please leave a message with your name and number and we will get back to you as soon as possible. Ask us about our holiday arrangement specials. Thank you."

Beep.

"Where's ma fuckin' money, Moe? Dinna pretend yer not there - ah fuckin' know ye live in the back o' that swamp you call a business, ya fuckin' cunt. You know I don't care long as I get paid but I haven't got paid, have I? So I ask ya again - where's my money? Don't make me make you sorry I fuckin' ever rented to you."

A click. Then silence.

Belle let out a long breath. From the sound of it her father had not yet paid the rent to Mr. Devine - a difficult man to take even under good circumstances. This could be a misunderstanding. What should she do?

She grabbed her phone from her bag, and looked down at it, finger hesitating over the keypad.


That was disturbing- better call dad Chapter 2

I'm a big girl, I can talk to Mr. Devine myself Chapter 3