Title: In Another World
Summary: In another world, they might have gotten a life with normal things and no threat of magical warfare hanging over their heads. Of course, this world would've had electronic grocery shopping and leather pants.
Rating: Everyone
No trigger warnings.
Prompt: Couple grocery shopping gone awry.
Author's Note: This was written for a OUAT Hiatus Rumbelle prompt-athon.
Belle's feet padded over the hardwood floor with hurried steps. Water pooled under her feet and squished between her toes. She shook out her hair, sprinkling water across the floor, and skidded into the kitchen. Cheeks flushed with more than the heat from the shower, Belle's face was set in a grimace, and she had hugged her towel tighter around herself. The squeal of her damp feet sliding across the floor was loud in the silent home. She stomped one heel.
"Rumplestiltskin," she said to the empty room. "You come down here this instant."
The sound of the house settling answered her.
Belle pursed her lips. She closed her eyes and exhaled through her nose. There was a dull whine in her ears and an ache behind her nose. This was so, so absurd on every level. She'd wanted to write it off as an accident last month, forget it had ever happened. He'd lived alone for so long and been taking care of only himself. His selective memory for things wasn't a surprise.
But dammit, she'd reminded him twice.
Belle spun and trekked out of the room. Flower-scented water puddles dotted her path. She ducked into the basement just to check and found no one. She's reminded him twice, and she'd completely ignored the first time because it was night. She hadn't needed her clothes—who wanted to go out well-dressed when they could barely find the will to get out of bed? Now, though, she'd asked one simple thing to do, and here she was in the aftermath. She was clothes-less and cold. Rumplestiltskin was nowhere to be found.
She rounded the corner. A heavy, gilded door was cracked open enough for her to see the light of his lamp. She took a breath and squared her shoulders.
"Rumplestiltskin," Belle said, swinging open his office door and planting her feet.
He looked up and had the decency to keep his eyes on her face. A nervous, crooked smile split his face, and he folded his hands in his lap.
"Belle, sweetheart, why are you, ah, morning," he said. He stumbled over the words with no finesse of the Dark One that Belle remembered.
She couldn't say she minded. If he'd bowed and giggled while leading her to the couch, she'd probably forgotten about everything until she tried to move and the puddle from her hair spilled over the couch edge.
"What did we talk about?"
"Breakfast," Rumplestiltskin said, pointing at her and grinning. He stood up and tapped his cane against the floor. "We talked about waffles and strawberries, and then shopping for lasagna for dinner."
Belle's eyes narrowed. She stared up at him through her lashes, and his smile fell.
"It was about clothes," Belle said. "About my clothes."
Belle took a step towards him. His back hit his desk. She felt the corner of her mouth twitch up, and Belle took another step. She swung her hips, ignored the splash of water on the leather couch, and stopped toe-to-toe with Rumplestiltskin. He licked his lips.
Belle tugged on his tie, and said, "Rumplestiltskin, I know that you remember exactly what I'm talking about, but I've no earthly idea why you didn't remember last night. Now, all of my clothes are a soppy, wrinkled mess in the washing machine."
"Sweetheart, it'll just be thirty minutes—"
"Nah, nah," Belle said, placing a finger over his mouth. "Give me your pants."
"What?" he asked with wide eyes. His forehead wrinkled.
"Give me," Belle said, sliding her hand from his mouth down to his waist. "Your pants. Every piece of laundry I did and every trinket I dusted is tucked away in this house."
"We're hardly the same size, dearie."
"If your leather pants aren't in my hand in two minutes," Belle said, holding out one hand and tapping her bare foot on the top of his shoes.
She didn't need to finish. Rumplestiltskin sidled around her and disappeared into the basement. Listening to the steady tap of his shoes on the stairs, Belle followed him, and he glanced back at her once. He simply shook his head.
After a minute of rifling through chests and boxes, Rumplestiltskin pulled a pair of deep brown leather pants out from the mix of shirts and ruffled collars. Belle held out her hand.
"I'll be down in a minute," she said, vanishing back upstairs with the pants.
"We'll need a mop," Rumplestiltskin said, holding open the grocery store door for Belle. "It seems to have rained inside the house."
Belle glanced at him over her shoulder and said, "It was probably that dark cloud that seems to follow you around."
Her leather pants crinkled with every step. She looped her arm through the handles of a basket and spun on her toes. A small, flutter of excitement was working its way across her body, and Belle struggled to stay still. Her gaze switched from pre-packed barbeque pizzas to boxes of soda stacked to the ceiling. A pile of bread looked familiar. Belle recognized a chicken in its plastic carton. She rolled back on her heels and hummed.
"What do we need?" she asked.
"Vegetables first," Rumplestiltskin said, pointing towards a table of tomatoes and avocados.
Belle smiled. She grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the table. She plucked a tomato still on the vine from the table and stroked the skin.
"They're fruits," she said, and Belle stifled a laugh as Rumplestiltskin feigned shock. "Berries, I think. I don't quite remember."
"And our berry lasagna will be delicious," Rumplestiltskin said, taking the tomato from her and placing it in the basket. "Four tomatoes, an onion, and garlic from here."
"We have garlic," Belle said, managing to shimmy the basket onto his arm before running off to the table of onions.
Rumplestiltskin watched her. She could feel his eyes on her and see him in the security mirror on the ceiling. She ducked her head and picked out a large, yellow onion. It crinkled between her hands.
"Found a favorite?" Rumplestiltskin asked over the two tables.
Belle tilted her head to the side. Across the store, she noticed the scowl of another patron. She didn't know their name, and judging by their whispered curses over the "damned Dark One and his trollop", Belle couldn't say she cared. She patted her onion and ignored them.
"I think I'll call her Joanna."
"A noble sacrifice," Rumplestiltskin said, accepting the onion from Belle. "Ground beef, lasagna, cottage cheese, mozzarella, and parmesan."
"I thought we were making lasagna?" Belle asked.
She placed her hand back on his arm. Rumplestiltskin swallowed and nodded. The arm beneath her hand held the basket, and Belle took it from him. His other hand clenched the top of his cane. Belle nudged him with her shoulder.
He cleared his throat and said, "We are, but the name of the dish is the same as the name for the noodles."
Belle took a step towards the aisles and leaned her head on his shoulder. "And it's like a casserole?"
"I'm sure you had something similar back home."
"No," Belle said, trailing off while Rumplestiltskin grabbed two bags of cheese. "Mostly what we had from before the war—dried meats, rationed bread—and anything we could get from the farms, but the plan was to funnel all resources towards the soldiers and citizens." She studied the plastic tubes of cottage cheese. Bent at the waist, her eyes and hands were level with the vibrating wall of the fridge. The long sleeve of her tunic was folded up to her elbows, and Belle touched her wrist to the tube she picked up. The cold bit into her skin. "Can we talk about electricity again?"
Rumplestiltskin stared pointedly at a place over her shoulder. She tugged her tunic back down.
"I think," he said, voice a bit higher and more Dark One than she'd heard in months. "That we'll just find you a text book."
Belle hummed in agreement. They turned the corner to the deli section, and Dr. Whale all but dove out of their way. Belle exhaled, and pinched Rumplestiltskin's arm. He bit back a smile.
They picked a pound of ground beef up from the aisle fridge, and Belle marveled over the different types of pasta for good five minutes before Rumplestiltskin could herd her towards the self-checkout. She'd settled on vegetable medley noodles that promised a full serving of vegetables per box. The pasta was green and orange, and Belle was delighted. She swung their hands back and forth as they walked. He hadn't the heart to pick anything else.
Belle unlaced their fingers. The slight tug of Rumplestiltskin's hand on her own nearly stopped her, but the taunt pulling in her stomach didn't appreciate the wait. He smiled.
"Hungry?"
"Always," Belle said. She pulled the ingredients from the basket and stacked them by the scanner, completely unsure of what to do with them. She wiggled her fingers across the red lasers. "Nothing to make you appreciate meals than eating chicken soup twice a day, every day."
She caught sight of his frown. She flipped the bag of mozzarella over and eyed the barcode.
"Sweetheart, I'm sorry—"
"No," said Belle, sliding the barcode across the scanner three times. "None of that."
She fiddled with the bag. No reassuring ding sounded and no price appeared on the screen. Rumplestiltskin smiled, not quite all the way to his eyes, and tried to take the bag. Belle waved him off. She smoothed out the barcode.
"This computer is going to be the death of me," she said. "Not Regina or your incessant apologies." She arched an eyebrow at him as the machine rang. "But you're close."
Reaching for her shoulder, he brushed a hand through her hair. She patted his arm and kissed his cheek.
"Dinner and home, and I promise I'll really be there for both of them," she said.
Rumplestiltskin pressed his forehead to hers and breathed in. "Deal."
Laden with shopping bags and a last minute mop thrown over one shoulder, they made it back to the car. Shouts and the roar of machinery filled the street. Belle glanced towards the mayor's house, and the top of apple tree vanished from view. A shriek quieted the rest of the noise. Belle dropped her bags in the trunk.
"Did Emma break out the chainsaw again?" asked Rumplestiltskin. He peered over the top of his car.
Charming and Snow caught his eyes. Belle groaned. She heard them shout for them and slammed her door shut.
"Quick," Belle said, pulling Rumplestiltskin into the car and buckling her seat belt. "Before they steal you away again."