"You ready?" Neal asked as he put the car into park in the driveway.

"As ready as I'll ever be," Belle replied, pulling her skirt down on instinct, even though she'd expressly chosen it for being the shortest one she owned. "Remember to use the right name this week, okay?"

"Right, Lacey. I won't forget."

"You owe me so much for this, Cassidy."

"Yeah I know. Let's just get to June and I promise you that your dad will never ask when you're getting married ever again."

It was a deal, beautiful in its simplicity and absolutely foolproof as long as they could keep their stories straight. They both had problems with their parents interfering in their love lives – Neal's dad hated every single girl he'd ever brought home and Belle's father had been nagging her about when she was going to get married since she was a junior in high school (the man was absolutely grandchild crazy) – and they had hatched a plan to both get their revenge and hopefully make future visits more enjoyable. Belle would attend Christmas as Neal's new girlfriend 'Lacey' who would be every stereotype of Australian bogans that she could possibly pull off, and he would attend her cousin Gail's wedding as her boorish, unemployed boyfriend and openly hit on the bride – if he could actually have sex with one of her other cousins or a bridesmaid, so much the better.

The only problem now was that Belle was going to have to spend a week at her friend's father's house acting as blithely inappropriate as she could manage with absolutely no evident shame in her misbehavior. Hopefully, next time Neal brought a girl home his father would be so pleased she was better than 'Lacey' that he'd overlook whatever other defects she had. That was the plan, anyway, but an abstract plan was so much easier than the reality of getting out of a car in snowy, suburban Maine wearing a skirt that barely covered her ass, tights, and knee-high boots. She looked like a prostitute. Not even a classy prostitute, she looked like Julia Roberts at the start of Pretty Woman. She just really hoped that they wouldn't be leaving the house a lot, because from the looks of the town as they'd driven through it she was pretty sure that she was going to be arrested if she walked through it looking like this.

"Stop fidgeting with your skirt," Neal said under his breath as he carried their bags to the house. "You look self-conscious."

"I am self-conscious," she whispered back. "This skirt was a lot longer in high school!"

"Just remember it's not you," he replied. "It's Lacey. Whatever happens this week, it's just Lacey, it's not you."

She nodded and tried to channel his advice on the quick walk to the front porch. Lacey wasn't Belle, so none of it really mattered. Lacey was sexy and comfortable with it, she could be loud and brash and demanding, she didn't care if Mr. Gold – or anybody else – liked her. She could totally do this. It was going to be a lot easier once she had a glass of wine in her hand, though.

Once they were up the stairs onto the porch (which had been a real dicey prospect for her in places what with the heeled boots), Neal stopped for a moment with his hand on the knob.

"You really ready?"

"Yeah," she replied. "I think I got this."

"Alright then," he said. "Let's go get you drunk and belligerent."

Theodosius Gold was already making his way to the front hall when he heard the door open and the sound of a woman's laughter in the hall. Neal was there with the girlfriend, and Theo got his first good look at Lacey. She didn't look like Neal's usual type, strangely. Ever since he'd been in school, Neal had always liked more statuesque women who wore a lot more clothes than the tiny girl currently in the foyer. She was pretty, but even as Neal was helping her take her coat off and then suddenly Theo wasn't sure where to look anymore. Her skirt was too tight and too short, and once her coat was off he saw the top wasn't much better. It was low cut in the front with some lace overtop forming sleeves. There was very little left to the imagination.

"Hey pops," Neal said, lunging forward to hug his father. "How are you?"

"I'm fine," Theo replied. "I hope your trip wasn't too taxing?"

"No, it was fine," Neal said, backing off and putting his hand on the woman's back. "Pops, this is Lacey. Lacey, this is Theo Gold, my father."

"Hey, how ya going?" she replied, shaking his hand firmly.

"Right, well… it's nice to meet you, Lacey," he replied, trying to put together his thoughts on this particular girl. She was… definitely different. "Neal, I've got you in your old room and Lacey in the guest room."

Theo generally put his son separate from girlfriends, mostly because he didn't want to encourage them to have sex. They were free to do whatever they liked when they weren't at his place, but it was an old, creaky house and he could hear anything they got up to. There hadn't ever been any issues with it before, but none of the previous girls were so sexual in their bearing. Everything about this girl was extremely provocative, from her bright red lipstick to her high heeled boots.

"Sounds good," Neal replied. "Come on, Lacey, I'll show you where your room is."

"Fab," Lacey said, bending to pick her bag up where Neal had left it on the floor. Theo instantly averted his eyes, but it hadn't been soon enough to miss finding out that Neal's new girlfriend apparently favored thongs – or possibly nothing, there had been tights in the way and he hadn't wanted to see more than he already had.

Neal was apparently unaware or unconcerned with the eyeful his father had just gotten, and Theo made sure to look anywhere else as she went up the stairs. This was going to be a real long week unless Lacey had a surprising amount of sweaters in her suitcase, because Theo wasn't sure that Neal had ever brought home a prettier girl and he was definitely sure he'd never brought home a girl in fewer clothes. He was going to have to take a lot of cold showers this week.

Theo was still waiting for dinner to arrive when Neal and Lacey came back downstairs, and he wasn't sure if he was relieved or disturbed that she definitely hadn't put on any extra clothes since vanishing upstairs with his son. At least no more had come off, at any rate.

"Was everything alright?" Theo asked.

"You've got a real nice place here, Mr. Gold," Lacey said as she dropped onto the couch. "Real fucking classy."

She didn't seem to be sarcastic, but other than that he wasn't quite sure how to take it. Neal seemed completely unsurprised by this outburst and vanished into the kitchen, leaving the two of them alone. It was extraordinarily hard to keep his eyes off her legs once they were alone. She'd crossed them, and her skirt had ridden up her thigh a bit more. A short girl shouldn't have such long legs. He had a vague mental image of running his fingers up her thighs under that insanely short skirt. That was, sincerely, a bad thing to think about but he couldn't stop looking at her thighs. Thankfully, Neal came back pretty quickly with a couple glasses of wine, one of which he handed to Lacey before joining her on the sofa.

There was an awkward silence while the two of them drank, and Theo was a little jealous – that was a surprisingly good idea. What kind of lunatic couldn't stop looking at his son's girlfriend's legs?

"So, Lacey," Theo said. "How did you and Neal meet?"

That should be a nice, safe topic of conversation. They'd probably met at work or school or…

"Right, so I was at this nightclub with my mates watching this metal show and doing shots when this fucking cunt decided to start some shit with me. The bouncer came over and he turfed me and the slag who had started the whole thing. I was gonna head home, but I tripped ass over teakettle into Neal so long story short I ended up going back to his place instead."

Neal made a sound like he was choking on his wine and Theo just kept staring at Lacey trying to figure out if she was making fun of him or not. Luckily, the doorbell rang before anyone could be any weirder.

"I'll get it," Neal said, setting his glass on the coffee table and dashing off to the front door and leaving Lacey and Theo alone.

"Is all this stuff real?" Lacey asked, reaching over and picking up a statuette off the table and flipping it over. "Jesus, you must be fucking loaded."

What the hell had his son been thinking bringing her home? He was going to have to count the silverware after she left. Although, if he was being honest, the resemblance between Lacey and Neal's mother was absolutely uncanny in a lot of ways. Maybe the kid had needed to go to therapy after the divorce.

This was all going a lot better than Neal had anticipated. His dad was visibly uncomfortable, and Belle was doing a really good job at being completely off-putting. With any luck, his father would be begging him to go back to to any of the other girls he'd brought home in previous years.

He was in a pretty good mood when he swung the door open, until he saw Emma Swan and his heart stopped. They'd dated on and off before he left for school at eighteen, and hadn't kept contact afterward. Last he'd heard, she was in Boston. Why was she back here?

"Hey," he said. "I didn't know you were back in town?"

He was pretty sure he sounded like an idiot, but he honestly hadn't expected to see his old friend-slash-girlfriend.

"Just for a little while," she replied. "I'm kind of between jobs and boyfriends. It just seemed like a good time to go home for a few weeks and get my shit together."

That was an urge Neal understood more than most people. If he and his father had gotten along better, there were weeks where he would have packed it all up and come back home. He'd stuck it out, though.

"Can't say I blame you for that," he replied. "How are your parents doing?"

"They're fine," she said. "But uh, are you going to pay me, or are we going to hang out and catch up in the doorway the rest of the evening? Because if that's the case, I should really call Ruby and tell her she needs to round up another helper."

He glanced down and registered for the first time that she was holding a small box full of takeout bags from Granny's diner. Well, that was embarrassing.

"Yeah, of course," he said quickly, backing up and grabbing the jar his dad had always kept tip money for delivery people in. He fished out a wad of cash and thrust it at Emma before grabbing the box. She laughed politely and took the money.

"Keep the change," he said before she could start counting any back for him. This was officially the awkwardest part of a day that had included his best friend saying the word cunt in front of his father.

"Thanks," she said, tucking the cash into the pocket of her red leather jacket. "Merry Christmas, Neal!"

"Merry Christmas!" he said, shutting the door and banging his head against it once in frustration at his own idiocy.

It was time to eat, and maybe if he played his cards right Belle would spill a whole glass of something onto his father's lap. That'd definitely cheer him up and he pictured it in his head to put a smile on his face before he had to go back to his family.

"Hey guys," Neal called out, heading to the dining room. "Dinner is here!"

Really, in the long run, what difference did it make if his ex-girlfriend was back in town at the same time he was? He hadn't seen her in close to ten years now, that was almost an entire lifetime, really.

Dinner had been long, and Belle was really, really tired. It took a lot of energy to maintain a fake persona for an extended period of time. She really wished she'd paid more attention in her improv class in college (or, briefly, that she could call that professor up and demand her C in class get changed). She couldn't answer any questions without trying to think about how her cousin Mels would have answered it and it was starting to give her a headache.

At least Neal's dad had stayed downstairs, so it was actually Neal giving her the tour of the upstairs and she could let the mask slip.

"You're gonna be here," he said as he opened a door and flipped a light on. Her suitcase was already sitting on the bed, which looked seriously tempting her. No matter what Neal may or may not like about his dad, the man had fabulous taste in everything and this room was very nicely decorated. There was even an old fashioned vanity and she was pretty sure she could cry just looking at it.

"This is a really nice room," she said, stroking the textured wallpaper. "Do you think he'd let me stay after you leave? I'm very neat."

"Nah, I think you may have blown your chance at being a sugar baby when you asked him what part of England he's from."

She tried not to giggle, but ended up snorting instead at the memory. He hadn't even responded, just excused himself to the restroom which had actually been good, because Neal was having trouble keeping a straight face which had set Belle off giggling as well. They'd just barely gotten themselves under control when he returned, and she'd proceeded to drink and ask invasive questions about how much everything cost whilst making sexual innuendos about his son. They were off to a great start, at least. If she was lucky, she'd get kicked out within three days and she could be normal at home for Christmas.

"Across the hall is a linen closet," Neal continued. "Next to that is the guest bathroom, my room is across the hall from the bathroom and my dad's is at the end of the hall across from the library. So if you need anything don't knock on that door."

She nodded and went back to caressing the furniture. It was all solid wood and so old and beautiful.

"Wait, there's a library?" she asked as soon as his words hit her. "Where's the library?"

"It's the open door next to my room," Neal said. "You can't miss it."

She hurried down the hall, hoping the library would be as cool as the rest of the house was. She was not disappointed in the least. Two full walls were lined with bookshelves, while the center was taken up with two antique sofas. There was even a fireplace between two big windows. It was the library of her dreams and Belle just wanted to cry.

She felt weirdly self-conscious as she walked into the library, but once she saw the contents of the first set of shelves it all faded. These were all early editions! How on Earth had he been able to afford these? They were so beautiful, she couldn't help but reach out and touch one. It was so old and the leather binding was buttery soft. Maybe she could move into his air conditioner vents like that lady in Japan. Or was it Germany? Whatever, she never wanted to leave this library as long as she lived.

She heard someone at the door and spun around to see Neal's dad there. Fuck.

"Can I help you?" he asked her and she could actually feel her face flushing at the question.

"I was looking for the loo," she blurted out.

"It's across the hall and to the right."

"Thanks."

He backed away and gestured towards the door, and she could feel his eyes on her back as she opened the door to the bathroom and went inside. This was going to be a long week.