Hey Everybody, for some reason my mind went down a dark alley tonight. This fic could stand on its own as a one shot or I could continue with it. I cried like a baby writing it, much to my everlasting shame. Please review and let me know if I should ride this to the bitter end. Thankfully I own nothing- if this were really the show everyone would hate me.
Of course he would write the damn letter with his gold tipped fountain pen. His penmanship was flawless and his posture was perfect- if a little tense. "Here you are Miss French, I'll see that two months' salary is deposited in your account and this letter certainly won't hurt your chances of finding another job."
"Why are you doing this?"
"It's simple dearie, I don't need an assistant anymore."
"You are a coward, Mr. Gold. You could have had happiness." With more dignity than she felt, Belle French took the letter from his outstretched hand. "But you've made your choice, and you are going to regret it." She tore it neatly in half and exited the back room. A few moments later Gold flinched as the bells tinkled and the front door clicked shut.
He contemplated all of his available options from laying his head on the desk to slitting his wrists with his letter opener. In the end he limped into the showroom, locked the door, and flipped the sign to Closed. There would be plenty of time for self-pity later. In the meantime there were more letters to write.
0
Belle, like the rest of Storybrooke, was quietly astounded when the pawnshop didn't open the next day. Mr. Gold was hardly a popular man and the shop was definitely no hot spot, but changes never seemed to go unnoticed in a small town. Belle pointedly ignored the many speculations she heard whispered by patrons of her father's flower shop and refused to answer any of Ruby's less than subtle inquiries. It wasn't until she passed Dr. Whale all but falling off of his barstool as she was leaving Granny's that she allowed herself to acknowledge Mr. Gold's existence. And then her world fell of its axis.
0
Mr. Gold shivered against the autumn wind and wondered why he had never spent an October in a reasonable climate. He could have afforded the Cayman islands or the Mediterranean, instead he stayed in Maine. Cursing he noticed his door was unlocked and his hand groped for the pistol he kept hidden in the foyer.
"I've moved it already."
Her voice nearly gave him heart failure. He turned to glare at her. "What are you doing here?"
"I moved the one from your night stand too. And you might as well know that I've locked all your weapons displays in the basement."
"Who told you?"
"I ran into Dr. Whale today, he wasn't handling things very well."
"I guess the rest of the town has heard then."
"Not yet, but it's only a matter of time."
"I should sue." he muttered to himself. "Well, you've cleared out my cache of weapons. I can't possibly do myself an injury. You can leave now."
"I love you."
"You feel sorry for me."
"I've been in love with you for months."
"Get. Out."
"And now I know why you pushed me away."
"Shut up."
"Why won't you believe me?"
"SHUT THE HELL UP." He grabbed her shoulders roughly, ready to push her out the door. But one of her hands reached out and brushed his face. He pulled her close instead. "I'm sorry, Belle."
"Shhh. It doesn't matter. We're together now. Everything's going to be fine."
"How can you say that?"
"Because it's true. I've brought my things, I'm not going anywhere."
"You're a madwoman. You know that, right?"
"I know what I want, if that's what you mean. Now sit down and rest. I think I hear the tea kettle."
"I don't want to sit down. I don't want any bloody tea."
"Well I do. Stand if you like."
"It was bad enough when I was just the town pariah. Who also happened to be twice your age and cripple. But now... I'm not going to let you waste your life."
"No one decides my fate but me. Are you sure you don't want a cup?"
"Belle, I'm dying!"
"Then we'll have to make the most of the time we have left. Go on and sit, you know your leg's killing you."
"Is that supposed to be a joke?"
"No it's a fact. You've been on your knee too long and I'm not going to walk on eggshells at this point."
Gold sighed, "You didn't bring any scones, did you?"
Belle smiled, "Blueberry."
0
They took tea in the parlor; Belle would never be able to think of it as a living room. They were both too pragmatic for small talk and unwilling to address Gold's illness again, so they sipped in silence. Afterward Belle took the tea tray back to the kitchen. She returned with a book and a crossword. She offered both to Gold as if she didn't know what he would choose.
"You're sure you know what you're in for dearie?"
"We'll take it one day at a time."
"What did you tell your father?"
"The truth. I told him we are in love and I that I was moving in with you."
"I bet that went over well."
"That's one way to put it."
"Why stay?"
"Would you leave me?" Belle looked up at him from Jane Eyre.
Gold shook his head. "What's a four letter word for fracture?"
Belle thought for a moment, "Chip."
