I started this fic over the summer and finally found the inspiration (and the time XD) to finish this. Hope you enjoy!
-,-,-,-
The Dark One—though not really anymore— had acquired many unusual objects in his 300+ years: magical termites from Agrabah, a hellhound that could kill a person with a single look, and even a singing harp that would not shut up!
But the object his 25-year-old son had handed him had to be by far the strangest. Not one of, or even in the top five. THE strangest.
"Thank you son for…"
Gideon Gold chuckled at his father's lack of trend knowledge.
"It's a Fitbit Dad." He reached over the table to pull the device from the deceiving decorated box to put it on his wrist. "It measures your heartrate, how many calories you burn, how many steps you take…"
"So, Death in wristwatch form?" He deadpanned, glaring at the miniscule digital screen. How was anyone supposed to read these things? "Son, you're already in the will…"
Gideon rolled his eyes. "I recall you saying once that you wanted to dance at my wedding. I'm just helping you get in the tippest of top-shape."
Rumplestiltskin gave his son a look of mock hurt. "I have you know young man I am the best dancer in all the realms."
"It's true." Belle called from the kitchen. "Your father used to cut a rug like you wouldn't believe."
"No one says that anymore, mom!" Gideon's voice echoed to the kitchen.
Rumplestiltskin cringed at his wife's past-tense referral of his abilities. He knew she hadn't done it on purpose, or was in any way trying to point out his faults, but the reminder that he was getting old did not sit well with him. Though he still had the powers of the Dark One, he had managed to find a way to revoke the immortality aspect of the curse shortly after Gideon was born. He wanted to grow old with his wife and son, and was prideful of every gray hair and wrinkle he earned from the sacrifice, not so much the extra weight around his middle or the ache in his back and joints.
He hated to admit it, but unless he made some major adjustments before his son's wedding day, he wouldn't be able to "cut a rug" or even walk his son down the aisle.
That just wouldn't do.
He was brought from his sober musing by the clicking of his wife's heels as she brought in slices of birthday cake.
"Oh no you don't!" Gideon chided, pulling his father's slice of cake away from him. "You're going on a strict diet until the big day."
The not-so-dark One gave his son a challenging look, one that he matched skillfully with one of his own. He truly was his father's son.
"How long until the big day?" Rumplestiltskin inquired innocently.
"…three months." Gideon calculated, pausing as he watched the pilfered slice of cake slide back to his father.
"Good," Rumplestiltskin grinned. "I start tomorrow."
-,-,-,-
The Golds were used to getting up early. Gideon had been an uneasy sleeper as a babe and would wake at the crack of dawn until he was into his early teens.
Belle and Rumplestiltskin had grown accustomed to opening their respectable businesses at later hours as their son grew older, thus the father-in-law-to-be was unprepared for his son all but pulling him from the bed one dark, muggy morning.
"You could join me." Rumplestiltskin grumbled to his wife as he pulled on his rarely worn tennis's Gideon had gotten him for Christmas some years ago.
"Nope." Belle moaned, nuzzling his still-warm pillow. "Sleep."
Rumple chuckled, kissing his wife's cheek. If it were anyone but his son, he'd blow them off and jump back into bed.
"Love you."
"Uh ooh." Belle mumbled back.
Rumplestiltskin met his overly energetic, bed-haired son on the front step.
"A little early for this, isn't it boy?" he grumbled.
"Early bird gets the worm…" Gideon stated as he stretched. "and avoids early morning traffic."
Gold rolled his eyes and watched his son twist and turn.
"You should stretch too, Pop." He groaned as he lifted a leg.
"I rather just go back to bed." Rumplestiltskin stated as he turned on is heel.
The Gold son chuckled and grabbed his father's arm, dragging him to the lowest point of the hill of the residential cul-de-sac.
"Okay, we'll start off in a trot and then work our way into a jog."
Rumplestiltskin physically blanched. "Why the actual hell are we starting uphill?"
"To get our adrenaline pumping. Trust me!"
"I trust you're going to put me into an early grave."
"After the wedding, Pop."
Rumplestiltskin watched his son stretch into a runners pose and reluctantly did the same, feeling ridiculous with his arse up in the air.
"Ready-"
"No."
"Set-"
"I'm not ready."
"Go!"
Rumplestiltskin watched in exasperation as his son sprinted up the steep hill, his long legs acting as wings and gliding him along effortlessly. In a blink he was already halfway up the hill.
"You okay?" Gideon yelled behind him.
Rumplestiltskin cursed in frustration and began to race after his son, completely forgetting his advice to start slow. He barely made it to the midpoint of the hill before he had to rest, nearly toppling over from dizziness.
Meanwhile, Gideon had reached the top and was barely winded, abet a bit warmer. He turned around expecting to see his father managing his way up but instead saw, bent over and breathless and glaring at a neighbor snickering from their porch.
"Oh boy…"
-,-,-,-
"I'm not drinking this." The former Dark One growled, swirling the green…whatever in his glass. "It looks like Zelena."
Gideon had half his glass empty in one gulp, smacking his lips. "It's an acquired taste, but it's packed with vitamins so drink up."
Rumplestiltskin sniffed the "smoothie" and pushed it across the table with a gag.
"I've made potions more appetizing than this."
Gideon rolled as his mother came clucking into the kitchen. She noticed the glass of greens and grossness and eyed her son and husband.
"If you two wanted breakfast all you had to do was say so. How about pancakes?"
"Thank you!" Rumplestiltskin sighed, kissing his wife passionately on the cheek.
"Wheat toast and eggs for you." Gideon warned, taking both their glasses to the sink.
Belle chuckled as her husband pouted and kissed his lips.
Rumplestiltskin pulled away when the little fitbit alerted him that his heartrate was increasing too quickly.
"Is that a bad thing?" Belle questioned.
"Hardly." Gold winked, causing Belle to giggle.
"Knock it off you two!" Gideon yelled from the kitchen.
-.-.-.-.-.-
It took several weeks of boring, flavorless meals and early morning runs, but during a frosty morning in early spring, Rumplestiltskin had managed to make it effortlessly up the hill, leaving Gideon in his rubber-sole dust.
He stopped long enough to glance back at his panting son, smirking as he stared in a mix of surprise and pride at his Papa.
Rumplestiltskin's smirk froze in place as Belle suddenly bounded around the corner, her body hugged in tight running material that he had damnably never seen before.
He watched her pause her running long enough to check on her son, and picked the pace back up when he nodded his well-being.
The not-so dark One couldn't suppress a grin as she came nearer, his exhaustion fading into fire. He expected her to stop, but instead she jogged around him and gave him a firm, hard slap right on his arse.
Face red from more than exertion, he turned after her, catching her wink as she sped over the hill.
Grinning with lewd mischief, he found a renew burst of energy to catch up to his wife, hoping she wouldn't mind if he used a bit of magic to get them home sooner.
After seeing the not-so innocent exchange between his parents, Gideon huffed and took his time getting up the hill.
-,-,-,-
Rumplestiltskin looked down at the little Fitbit watch, watching the little digital heart escalate as the wedding march began to pick up. He hoped this meant he wasn't about to have a bloody heart attack on his son's wedding day.
"Ready dad?"
The not-so-dark One looked up at his tuxedoed, glowing son who had his opposite arm extended for him. On his other arm was his beautiful Belle, her eyes rimmed red from happy tears, her patience smile waiting from him—just as it always had.
He looped his arm in his son's arm, turning to the aisle as guests stood in attention.
"I'm ready."