Summary: AU. Following on from 'Carrot Cake', a series of one-shots charting the further adventures of Gold and Belle as they continue to live, love and generally get to know each other. Mainly romance and mainly Rumbelle, occasionally other characters will pop up demanding attention…
Disclaimer: Alas, I do not own Once Upon A Time. I do, however, finally own the S1 DVD. Yay!
A Note Before We Begin: These tales are based on the AU established in 'Carrot Cake', so things will probably make more sense if you read that first. I welcome suggestions, so if there is a particular scene you'd like to see, please do drop me an email or PM. I do request that suggestions remain T rated and stick to the pairings established in the AU, please. (A full list can be found on my profile if you aren't sure.)
So, without further ado, WI presents…
Cupcakes
Note: This scenario was requested by several reviewers, so I thought I'd better make it the first chapter!
Summary: Moe French and Mr Gold meet for the first time, purely by chance.
German Poppy Seed Cake (Mohnkuchen)
Moe French had been having a comparatively good day until the van had decided to die on him. He was delivering (or, at least, he was meant to be delivering) a large order to a hotel in the town centre who were handling a wedding at the weekend, and his Belle had promised to drop in and see him after she'd signed her paperwork. There was even the possibility of sizing up her new man, but Belle had said that it was a bit early for meeting the parents and she didn't want Moe scaring him off.
Which was a shame, because Moe quite enjoyed watching Belle's boyfriends sweat whilst he scrutinised them with secateurs in hand, ready to snip.
If he couldn't get the van started, however… He kicked the front nearside tire but all that succeeded in doing was making him stub his toe and let out a few choice words telling the van exactly what he thought of it. A couple of passers-by muttered their disapproval at his language under their breath.
The van had been his old faithful for as long as Moe could remember, but it was now very old, and he was now rapidly losing faith in it. With a sigh, he opened up the bonnet. The battery was probably flat again. That was happening with an alarming regularity. Moe couldn't understand it; where did the power go for crying out loud? He prodded about a bit, trying to work out what was wrong and how he could fix it, if it could even be fixed without having to call out the mechanic.
Moe sighed and went to the door of the shop.
"Brenda!" he called.
"Yes boss?" came the reply.
"Can you find me a wrench?"
"Why would you have a wrench in a flower shop?"
"I don't know, can you just find me one please?"
He returned to the van so that he didn't have to listen to Brenda grumbling about going above and beyond the call of duty, finding wrenches when she was only paid to work the till and water the plants. On the one hand, having Brenda as an assistant was a blessing, as Moe knew that he could leave Game of Thorns in her capable hands whilst he made deliveries. On the other hand, she would ask him inane questions… He was sure he had a wrench somewhere in the back room…
"Here you go." Brenda came out of the shop with the wrench. "Honestly, the things I do."
"Thank you, Brenda." Moe sighed and began tapping the various visible pieces of the engine with the wrench. He wasn't the world's best mechanic, but he was enough of a petrol-head to know how to change a spark plug and measure the oil, and that was more than some people. Besides, if he was holding a wrench, then passers-by would think that he was attempting to fix the van, rather than waiting next to it like a lemon for the real mechanic. Moe frowned as his tentative tapping didn't yield any results. It was definitely the battery.
He was still pondering whether or not to call the garage, who would undoubtedly charge him a small fortune for the privilege of having his van started, when he heard a car pull up behind him, the driver's door open and shut and the incredibly annoying beep of central locking.
"Excuse me."
Moe turned to face the man. "Can I help you?"
"How long can I park here for?"
"Half an hour free, no return within three hours," Moe intoned. He'd had more than enough run-ins with the particularly nasty traffic warden who controlled the parking spaces outside his shop when the woman simply would not accept his parking permit and kept trying to slap fines on him for leaving his van somewhere it shouldn't be. That the Transit was emblazoned with the same name as the shop had somehow been overlooked.
The newcomer looked from Game of Thorns to his car and back again.
"That should be enough time," he said, but he didn't sound too sure of himself. Moe chuckled.
"She's hard to buy for?"
"You have no idea." The man sighed. "I've never been more terrified of buying a woman flowers in my life."
"Right." Moe hit the battery with the wrench. Nothing happened so he tried again slightly harder. "So she's either allergic to just about everything or incredibly picky. I have one customer who orders her flowers to match the curtains."
"It's not that. She reads into everything, knows what all the flowers mean. I don't want to accidentally tell her I hate her."
Moe hit the battery for a third time, sending the wrench flying out of his hand and sailing past his prospective customer onto the pavement.
"Well, I'm not all that clued up on them, I just make sure they're fed and watered and sold," he said, rushing to retrieve the tool. "Erm… Not poppies. They're something to do with death, oblivion, eternal sleep, bad stuff like that. And not balsamine and lime-blossom together, they mean 'I can't wait to get into bed with you'. Or is that marigold and apple-blossom? Best steer clear of all of them."
"Ok… Oh screw it, I'll get her a pot plant."
"Not basil. That's eternal hatred. And I believe sweet marjoram is pregnancy and birth, so she might get the wrong impression." Moe shrugged. "My daughter's the one to ask really, she can reel them off. But definitely not poppies."
He hit the engine again but it was still to no avail.
"Are you having trouble?" The other man came up beside him.
"I think it's the battery." Moe sighed. "Do you know anything about engines?"
"Nope. Not a thing. It's a shame the 'turn it off and on again' rule doesn't work for cars." He looked back at the black BMW he'd just parked. "I love her, but she's been more trouble than she's worth sometimes."
"Really? I'd heard the 3-series was really quite reliable."
"It is, for the most part. But when there's a problem, there's a big problem." He shrugged. "I think cars just don't like me."
"Well, this van doesn't like me at the moment." Moe tossed the wrench into the passenger seat. "I'll let you get on. Doesn't do to be holding up custom, after all. Brenda can probably help you with the hidden meanings. Actually, on second thoughts, if you've got a minute…"
Moe looked from the BMW to the Transit and back again. The other driver raised an eyebrow.
"Would you like a jump-start?" he asked plainly.
"Well…"
"Don't worry, I've learned to read people very well in my line of work."
"What's that then?"
"I'm a solicitor," the other driver said as he walked back towards his car to open the bonnet. "Have you got jump-leads?"
It was in that moment that Moe started to wonder. Solicitor, Scottish accent, limp…
"Well, this is cosy. I thought I said we weren't going to do a 'meet the parents ' today?"
Belle was standing on the pavement outside the shop, with a patented expression of amusement on her face.
"Hi love," Moe said brightly.
The BMW driver looked from Belle to Moe, then back at Belle, then down at his car, then back at Moe, then planted his face in one hand.
"I don't believe it," he muttered.
Belle was nearly crying with laughter, and thereby doing nothing to make the situation any easier.
"What's going on out there?" Brenda's voice came out of the shop, and even though he couldn't see her, Moe could tell she had her hands on her hips. "You're scaring away all the customers!"
"Hello, Brenda," Belle called. "Don't worry, we'll tell you later."
"Brenda, be a dear, find me some jump-leads, please," Moe called.
"Why do you have JUMP-LEADS in a FLOWER SHOP? All right, all right, I'm looking."
Belle came over and patted her boyfriend – he was more of a man-friend, really – on the shoulder and he looked up at her.
"I swear I didn't realise," he murmured.
"I know. Dad probably didn't either, since he hasn't broken out his shears. But since you're both here, we may as well do a formal introduction." She hooked her arm through his and pulled him back over to Moe. "Gold, this is my dad, Dad, this is Gold."
"Pleased to meet you."
They shook hands, and Moe decided against going and getting his secateurs. The mortified look on Gold's face was enough. Belle stepped into the awkward silence and began to tell them how her meeting with the lawyers round the corner had gone.
"Right, I've found your blinking jump-leads, now…" Brenda came out of the shop tangled up in wires and stopped on seeing Belle and Gold. "You must be the mysterious Mr Gold-with-no-first-name," she said, taking a few steps closer. "You know, I think that's very… enigmatic… Like James Bond. Except he was called James, obviously…"
Gold took a minute step backwards towards the safety of the BMW.
"Brenda, stop flirting, you're scaring him and he's traumatised enough as it is," Belle scolded. "Right, let's get this van started so Dad can go and deliver, Brenda can go and tend to her pet Venus flytrap…"
"It's nearly four inches tall now!" Brenda said proudly.
"…And you can go and buy me some flowers, as was probably your original intention. I think some pink roses and iris would be particularly appropriate today."
Moe busied himself untangling Brenda from the jump-leads, watching his daughter and her man out of the corner of his eye.
"So what precisely do pink rose and iris mean?" Gold was asking.
Belle was grinning. "Oh, I'll tell you later. I can't believe you met my dad without realising. I told you our shop was called Game of Thorns, I'm sure I did."
"Yes, well… "
"You've seen a picture of him!"
"Once!"
Moe smiled as they continued their banter. He had a good feeling about this one.
In case anyone was wondering, pink rose means 'desire' and iris means 'good news'.
Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the first cupcake!