"...and they all lived happily ever after."

The often repeated and horribly cliché line was muttered under the breath of a young woman who then proceeded to snap the book shut with a bit more force than was necessary and roll her eyes. She hadn't even read the last line, but if there was one thing Izobel could predict, it was the end of a story about true love. No one seemed to have the nerve to write a more realistic ending than 'happily ever after.' Which was just as well, really. Good for them. Izobel would continue with her knowledge of how things really worked while all the princesses and princes of fantasy enjoyed their happily ever afters.

Speaking of reality...

With a muffled oath that would have made her mother scowl ("a lady never curses, Belle"), Izobel flew from her chair, allowing the last few pieces of exasperation over fairytale endings to evaporate as she dashed to the beat-up stove against one wall of her cozy abode. She barely remembered to grab the cloth to protect her hands in her rush ro save the pie she was attempting. She wasn't a bad baker or anything, she reasoned with herself, just easily distracted by exasperating and over-read fairytales. The pie was fine, so no harm done this time. It was when she placed her baked delight in the window to cool that she heard the thud, followed by quiet crying. What Izobel liked to call her 'mother-bird instinct' kicked in, and she brushed her hands off before heading out the door to investigate. It took no time at all to locate the source: a small boy had fallen and scraped his knee. It wasn't anything overly bad, but Izobel still cooed in sympathy and knelt beside him. Although slightly marred by tears, she still felt a vague recognition stir within her when she looked at his face. That wasn't surprising; she might not involve herself in social workings, but it was still a small town.

"It doesn't look too bad," she informed him in a soothing tone. "Come inside and I'll help you clean it up." The boy hesitated, casting a nervous glance over his shoulder. The thought of letting him continue to run around while bleeding didn't sit well with Izobel, so she tried to entice him further. "I just baked a pie..."

The blatant offer of sweets proved to be the boy's undoing, just as she had hoped. Izobel helped him to his feet with a wide smile before leading the way inside. He seemed withdrawn and far too skittish for her liking, and she found herself wanting to see him smile. She gestured for him to take a seat at the wooden dining table just inside the door as she cut him a slice, congratulating herself at the perfect texture as it slid easily onto a plate. She slid it across to him, biting the corner of her lip to keep from grinning as his eyes lit up almost comically. She barely had time to hand him a utensil before he was shoveling it into his face, and Izobel gave up on holding back her smile. She shook her head good-naturedly as she wet a square of material, placing it over his knee as he ate. His eyes crinkled at her in gratitude, and she patted his shoulder before taking the seat next to him.

"Slow down. There is plenty more where that came from, Mr..." she baited, quite obviously fishing for his name. He supplied it readily, mouth red and full of cherry pie.

"Baelfire. My friends call me Bae."

Of course! The boy with the raging alcoholic mother that all the women in town cooed over. Izobel instantly felt guilty for the judgment. She tried to cover her sudden lapse of mental manners by heading back to the stove with the intention of sending the rest home with him, since he was so obviously enjoying himself. She was in the process of draping a clean cloth over the remnants of her cooled cherry pie when a rhythmic thumping distracted her attention.

"How is your knee, Bae? I could-"

"Bae?" the voice was rough and thickly accented in worry. Bae lifted his dead, but his mouth was too full to call out in return, so Izobel covered for him. She made her way to the open door and leaned outside to smile at the man who was leaning heavily on a walking stick, attempting to peer inside from the path without seeming intrusive.

"Bae is in here," she informed him with a welcoming and quick wave. "Please, come in."

He had the same hesitation across his face that Bae had had, so Izobel made sure to turn her back before he could protest. There was a short pause and a low sigh before the return of the thumping indicating he had accepted her invitation, if only to see Bae. When the spinner's eyes caught sight of his son, he let out an odd huff between exasperation and amusement.

"Son, what are you doing?" The answer was painfully obvious, but there was a deeper layer to the question that suggested Bae's father did not approve of what he saw as charity. Baelfire's face was instantly crestfallen, and Izobel couldn't have that after working so hard for a smile.

"He was playing outside and fell, so I offered him some pie while we clean up his knee." Izobel stepped over to them and picked up the damp cloth from Bae's knee, holding it up for perusal as if it were evidence for her honesty, but the man was no longer listening. As soon as she had mentioned Bae's fall, his father's face had transformed into a heart-wrenching mix of panic and anxiety, and he could no longer hear a word she said.

"Oh, Bae... I told you to be careful." He was staring at the cut on hid son's knee as if it were a fatal wound that was slowly draining Bae's life. Bae placed his fork down slowly, licking the last traces of sticky red from his lips before attempting to explain. Izpbel found herself jumping in before he got the chance.

"Boys will be boys. Scrapes are inevitable." She tried to keep a pleasant and reassuring tone. The man looked wrecked, and it seemed to take a supreme power of will for him to turn his attention to her.

"Yes. Well, we should be going." It was quite obvious he hadn't bought her explanation. Bae's chair scraped across the floor as he stood, staring fixedly at his shoes before standing at his father's side. There was a pause, then, "Thank you." It was hard to tell of he meant it, but he seemed genuine enough so Izobel smiled.

"Anytime." They were heading out the door when Izobel remembered her pie. "Oh! Wait!" She grabbed it from the stovetop, rearranging the cloth that covered it before holding out her offering with a proud grin. Bae smiled again, but before he could reach with his eager fingers, his father's voice cut across him.

"It really isn't necessary, Miss."

"Please, call me Izobel. And I'm aware it isn't necessary, but I want you to have it."

"I-"

"I won't take no for an answer," she informed him, holding up the pie as if it would float after him if he didn't take it. He still looked unsure, but Bae was taking it from her before his father could say anything else.

"Thanks, Miss Belle!"

His father ruffled Bae's curls with a small smile before dipping his head at her in wordless gratitude. For all his protesting, he seemed quite relieved.

"Come back soon, Bae." Izobel found herself calling.

"I will!"

Although his father didn't look happy, exactly, no more protests were uttered as they turned as one and walked away, and Izobel gave herself a victory.

"I'm sorry?" Izobel froze in the act of placing the delicate herbs on the top shelf and looked over her shoulder at the older woman with hands on hips.

"That's his name. Rumplestiltskin."

Although Izobel didn't think she was imagining the disapproval in the woman's tone, she chose not to comment on it. As it turned out, she didn't have to. Maurgo could never keep quiet for long.

"The boy is an absolute wonder. I don't know how he managed to be so sweet with such horrid parents."

Izobel frowned and set the herbs in their proper places, turning to give her pseudo-mother her full attention. Normally she didn't bother to try and refute Maurgo's strong opinions and blunt words, but she felt some kind of stirring to defend the hopeless spinner that had taken Bae from her kitchen those few days ago.

"His father seemed rather nice. A bit woebegone, sure, but-"

"He's a coward. Went off to war and ran back with his tail between his legs. And the mother is an alcoholic that would rather pass out in pubs than care for the boy."

Izobel bit her bottom lip. If everyone around this village felt the same way Maurgo did, it was no wonder Rumplestiltskin had been so surprised and distrustful of her actions. She made up her mind to stop by later today and make another attempt to extend her friendship. Maurgo huffed.

"I know that look in your eyes, girl child. You're planning to try and heal that broken family." Izobel had the grace to look ashamed, but Maurgo wasn't finished. "Some things are better left untouched by loving hands, Izobel. Broken is broken, and taint cant spread."

The pointed look in harsh hazel eyes forced Izobel to nod as tears flooded her own. She knew that lesson better than most. It was the main reason people in town chose not to interact with her. If Maurgo hadn't adopted her those years ago, Izobel would have been completely alone. Maurgo's face softened at the sight of Izobel's pain in that way it only did with her.

"No more tears, girl child. It was a long time ago and this is now."

The words, simple as they were, did not go a long way in cheering her. But Izobel shook away dark thoughts of her parent's deaths and attempted a smile. Maurgo nodded in approval before twisting her heavyset body around to grab a few more bottles of plants Izobel couldn't name. Just as quick as that, the two were back to work.

Izobel still planned to stop by Bae's house later. No matter what Maurgo believed, anything could be fixed with enough care and time.

The sun had mostly gone down by the time Izobel left Maurgo's house, and the absolve of her bolsterous chatter seemed to make the silence echo. The world had taken on a pleasant orange glow, and Izobel found herself smiling for no particular reason other than that the world was beautiful. Although she remained steadfast in her idea to visit Bae and Rumplestiltskin, she found herself hesitating. She wanted to bring another pie. It seemed a bit repetitive, so she found herself stopping to but a loaf of bread and a small roast chicken that the owner was trying to be rid of so he could go home for the night.

Izobel sent up her first thank you about Maurgo's chattiness; she had no idea where her targets lived this morning when she had made her resolution, but she had been indirectly informed as the day progressed. They weren't quite neighbors, but there was only one house between them so Izobel felt justified in calling them so. She had barely set foot on the small pathway that led from the street to the door when said door swung open with such a bang that Izobel almost dropped her purchases in fear.

The woman who shoved past her continued storming off, not even seeming to notice Izobel's presence on her walkway. She had only caught a mass of dark curls, and she was staring after the disappearing figure when a quiet grave voice called her name. She whipped back to the door to see Rumplestiltskin leaning against its frame, his face alight with surprise.

"What are you doing?" There was a tone of suspicion that was trying to hide under the surprise, but Izobel caught it nonetheless. She tried not to be hurt, instead choosing to smile and life her offerings in a slight remix of their last meeting. He looked instantly abashed and contrite. "Miss-"

"Izobel," she corrected firmly. If he had something else to say he didn't get the chance.

"Miss Belle!" Bae came barreling out from under his father's arm, skidding to a stop in front of her. She grinned widely at him as his eyes darted over the food she held.

"I brought more food! I didn't get the chance to make it this time, though. Next time I will, promise," she informed him with a wink. Although Bae seemed delighted, Rumplestiltskin seemed the opposite. His posture had deflated but his tone was indignant.

"We can't possibly pay you." The statement held no wishful thinking or sadness. It was resigned.

"You aren't meant to."

In this version of their get together, it was Bae who chose to cut over his father's protesting. "It looks amazing! I'm starving."

"Waste no time then!" Izobel giggled, allowing Bae to take the food from her. When Bae ran back inside with dinner, Izobel found herself standing awkwardly on the walkway, feeling the heat of Rumplestiltskin's burning stare. She impulsively smoothed the gray linen of her unimpressive dress, a habit she thought she had broken years ago. The silence was almost suffocating, and when he broke it Izobel took in a breath she hadn't realized she had been neglecting herself.

"Come in."

And she did.

The house was nearly identical to hers in style, a size Izobel chose to call cozy instead of cramped. It was undeniably worn down, having been lived in much longer than her own. Instead of a dining table just inside the door as her own house was furnished, the table was in a corner to her right. Bae was already setting three places, and although Izobel hadn't intended to eat with them, she found herself sitting down anyway. It seemed Rumplestiltskin did not know what to do with himself now that there was a guest in his home, and his nervous fluttering was starting to make Izobel edgy.

"You'll join us won't you?" she implored with a smile. He started as if he hadn't realized she could speak and took in Bae and Izobel at his table with a flush. He limped over to join them, leaning his walking stick against the table when he took a chair. It took no more prompting than his father sitting for Bae to tear into his food, and Izobel bit back a giggle fondly. Rumplestiltskin still watched her as she daintily picked at her own plate, and she looked between her food and Bae to avoid his penetrating gaze.

"It's delicious, Miss Belle!" Bae enthused. Izobel reached over to pat his hand with a large grin.

"Glad to hear it, Bae."

Rumplestiltskin finally started eating then, slowly and Izobel gave herself another victory. It lasted until the end of the mean, when Bae jumped up to take their empty plated and the remains of the bread into what Izobel assumed was their kitchen.

"Why are you doing this?" At Izobel's hurt look, he flinched and hurried to correct himself. "I'm grateful, of course. I just-"

"Don't understand," Isobel finished for him with a nod. She had felt the same when Maurgo first took her in, the sobbing orphan whose parents had been killed by the Dark One. The people had called her marked and kept away, but Maurgo was fearless. If his reactions thus far had been any indicator, he would not respond well to her 'helping' them. So she chose a different tactic, just as honest. "I could use some friends."

His eyes shadowed briefly, but he gave her a curt nod. "Bae can never have too many friends," he allowed. She ducked her head, unable to retain an excited smile.

"Bae is such a sweet boy. I was hoping I could be considered your friend as well."

She had surprised him again, she could tell. It was starting to become a theme. He opened his mouth and Izobel held her breath, but she never got to hear what she hoped was his acceptance. Bae seemed oblivious to what he had interrupted, beaming up at Izobel madly from under his mop of curls. She had won over one of the boys, at least.

Night had completely fallen by now, and Izobel had the grace to rise to her feet and take her leave. With a thrilled "Goodnight, Miss Belle!" Bae threw his arms around her waist in a quick hug before darting up the stairs. Izobel gave Rumplestiltskin a small smile and a fluttering wave of her fingers before resigning to show herself out. Her fingers were on the door handle before his voice interrupted, startling her. She had not heard him follow her to the door.

"Thank you, Izobel."

She nodded in stunned surprise. When the door shut behind her, if she were any less of a lady she would have yelled in her excitement. As it was, she journeyed the short walk home with a stupid and unfading smile plastered to her face.