Disclaimer: I don't own any OUAT characters.
Authors note: This is my first OUAT. Constructive criticism is welcomed.
"You've got to be kidding!" Detective Belle French cried. "The ONE time I take the day off and there's a break in? This," she grumped, "has to be a joke or something."
Belle pulled on a sweatshirt and wiggled into a pair of jeans, all the while grumbling about the day's injustice. She ran a hand over her messy slept in braid, but left the thick rope alone. With tired eyes, Belle searched for her phone(which she swore she left on her bedside table) and eventually found the device stuffed underneath her pillow, the screen showing two missed calls and a text from Graham. She shoved her phone into her pocket without answering them. Heading to the station early was not her idea of a relaxing Sunday that was meant to be a vacation day.
Still quiet grumpy, Belle snatched her badge and gun off of her dresser and situated both into their proper places as she went down her porch steps. The morning sun was hidden by thin grey clouds and the air was chilly enough to make Belle wish she had grabbed her winter coat. Hardly anyone was out; they were all still tucked into the cozy beds lost in their dreams. To say the very least, Belle was a bit jealous of them.
The crisp morning air helped draw the remaining sleep from her and left Belle wide awake. Honestly, she couldn't believe that a crime bigger than vandalism had occurred. Storybrooke was just a small, sleepy town in Maine, with residents that didn't do anything other than stick their noses into business that wasn't their own. Someone must be pretty desperate to go into the old pawn shop, which hadn't been used in almost thirty years.
Belle had lived in Storybrooke her entire life and had heard rumors of a malevolent spirit haunting the pawn shop. She wasn't the kind of girl to believe in supernatural tales, but she kept her distance like everyone else. She glanced up at the flower shop as she passed and found that the lights were still turned off and there was no evidence of anyone in the shop.
Belle wasn't meant to be a detective, she was just a librarian who did better with a book than a gun. However, when old Mr. Croons had died-she couldn't remember when- she had made a promise to him that she would take over his job after he passed. Now here she was, heading to work before the rest of Storybrooke was awake. On second thought, Belle mused, maybe that isn't such a bad thing.
The station was the only building with the lights on and the newcomer's yellow bug was parked out front. Emma Swan, a blonde haired woman who seemed hard as nails, had been given a position earlier in the week. Belle brightened a bit, at least she wouldn't be cooped up in the station with only her older brother, Graham, as company. As the only detective in Storybrooke, she often teamed up with the police force, which had been only Graham for a long time.
Belle pushed open the door with a large sigh. It was going to be a long day, she could tell.
"Belle." Graham said as soon as she entered, looking up at her. "I need you and Emma to head to the old pawn shop. I have some paper work I need to file."
Belle arched an eyebrow. "Paperwork? Since when do you have to do paperwork?"
A smirk spread across his face. "Since you didn't do it."
Belle bit back a reply and gave her older brother a glare before she turned to Emma. She had watched the siblings squabble with a surprised(and almost wistful) look. The blonde shifted her green eyes to the waiting Belle.
"Ready?" Belle asked, smiling at her reassuringly.
"Yeah." Emma nodded-not looking very ready at all- and absent-mindedly touched her holstered gun. "Let's go."
They exited the station with Belle in the lead and Emma close behind her. The abandoned shop was just ahead of them, the windows were boarded up with rotting wood and the sign hanging above the door was unreadable and broken. The door was swinging off of the hinges and Belle took out her gun.
"Stay quiet." Belle murmured before stepping into the dark shop. The lights are either long gone or out and she can only see by the light that reflected off the glass counters. Various objects crunch under her sneakers and Belle blames her over active imagination for the shiver that runs down her spine. She can feel Emma behind her, stepping with the same large crunches.
In the darkness, a rustle of movement makes the pair jump and Belle whirls around just in time to see a figure slip out the door. With a shout, she bounds past Emma and darts out the door. She stopped once she was outside and looked all around for the person she had seen. The figure, who looks like a woman, rounds the corner and Belle is off again, sprinting down the pavement. When she comes around the corner, the person is nowhere in sight. She does a three-sixty and sees no one. Where could they have gone?
"Belle!" Emma shouted, her voice strained. "I need your help."
Letting out a frustrated groan, Belle turned and ran back the way in which she came. She heard the sounds of a struggle and sees just that when she comes around the shop corner. Emma was on the sidewalk, clutching her arm in pain and staring up at her attacker with dazed eyes. The attacker is dressed in an expensive suit, his brown hair reaches his shoulder and he is not much taller than Belle. However, her concern is the cane that is drawn back in the promise of a damaging hit.
"Freeze." Belle shouted, already raising her gun to aim at the man's back if he didn't comply. To her astonishment, the man stilled at the sound of her voice.
"Drop the cane." Belle ordered; his hand on the cane tightens. "Now or I'll shoot." She warns, voice dripping with venom. The cane clattered uselessly to the pavement beside the dazed Emma.
"Step away from my partner with your hands above your head." Belle commanded, watching as the man limped back a few feet. Realizing that she had no handcuffs on her, Belle gritted her teeth in irritation. "Stay where you are."
Belle kept her gun on the man as she went over to Emma, careful to not turn her back on him even though he probably wouldn't get far without his cane. Emma's eyes were starting to clear and her face was scrunched up in a grimace of pain. She stood with the help of Belle, who was careful to avoid her injured arm.
"Go get Graham. Tell him to bring some handcuffs." Belle said, her voice only loud enough for Emma to hear. She looked like she was about to protest, but Belle nudged her in the direction of the station. With a worried glance behind her, Emma hurried to the station.
Belle turned her full attention to the man. He was older, maybe around forty and his eyes took her in with something that looked akin to surprise. His hands dropped from above his head as he openly stared at her.
"Belle?" The man's voice was soft, like she was a wild animal that he was afraid he might scare. "Is that really you?" He reached out a hand and gripped her shoulder.
His eyes searched her face. "You're real." He whispered.
Belle jerked her shoulder from his touch, moving an arm's length away from him. "Stay away."
His hopeful expression crumbled. "Belle, I'm so sorry. I never meant to-"
"Stay away." Belle ordered again, her voice rising in pitch. "How do you know me?"
"You don't remember?" His face was twisted in pain as if her words had caused a physical blow. "Belle, please." He limped toward her and Belle raised her gun.
"I'll shoot." Her voice wavered. "Don't take another step."
"Belle," the man began, his voice riddled with desperation. He never finished, for at that moment Graham appeared with rage in his eyes.
He seized the man's arm and pulled him away from Belle. "Stay away from my sister." He snarled, his face twisted in anger.
"Belle, go to the station with Emma." He said. "Now."
"Graham, I-I" Belle stuttered, watching with horror as the man began struggling wildly against her brother.
"Go!" Graham bellowed as he fought with the man.
Belle turned and ran to the station with the image of the man's heartbroken expression imprinted in her mind.
The mystery man was sitting in a chair in the interrogation room, his face a blank mask. Graham stood across from him, a blackening bruise on his jaw and his chair halfway across the room from his previous outburst-which had included him standing and screaming at the man so abruptly that Emma and Belle had jumped in surprise. The veins in his neck stood out and his clenched hands were shaking.
"Hey," Emma called from the door, "come out here and cool down." She suggested.
Casting the man a dark look, Graham pushed past Emma and into the hall. Belle was leaning against a wall, watching the man through the one way glass. Emma closed the door quickly.
"Graham, you have to-" Emma started.
"What?" He interrupted. "Control my temper? Look what he did to you," he gestured at the arm she held close to her chest. "And he had Belle scared out of her mind."
Belle's mouth twisted into a frown at his words and her eyes shifted to him as he paced the room. The only words that had come out of the man's mouth was when he had seen her and he hadn't spoken a word since. He had only spoken to her and...
"I'll talk to him." Belle offered, still leaning on the wall. She was naturally curious and she wanted to know how the man was.
Graham rounded on her. "No, you won't. We don't know who this guy is or," he hissed, his eyes darkening with rage, "what he'll do to you."
"If he wanted to hurt me, don't you think he would have? He had plenty of chances." Belle pointed out stubbornly. "And you and Emma can see everything that's happening. If anything goes wrong you're both right here." Belle added.
"She's right." Emma said before Graham could speak. "We're only a glass panel and a door away. Besides, he's only talked to her. "
Graham glared at Belle for a few moments. "You have fifteen minutes. If you can't get him to speak, then you're done." He finally snarled.
Hesitating at the door, she pushed down the overwhelming feeling of anxiety. Do the brave thing and bravery will follow, she thought. Belle took a deep breath and opened the door. The man's eyes flickered to her briefly and she saw them soften slightly.
Belle picked up the abandoned chair. "I'm Belle." She said as she pulled the chair up to the table and sat. "But you already know that, don't you?"
The man remained completely silent.
"I was wondering if you could tell me how you ended up in the old pawn shop?" Belle inquired, voice kind.
He didn't move an inch.
"Look," Belle said leaning forward with her hands clasped in front of her, "we have less than fifteen minutes. My brother can be-very-over protective and he probably won't allow me to see you again. So-if we're going to talk- now is the time to do it."
"And what would I have to say to you, dearie?" The man questioned coldly.
Progress, Belle reminded herself. "A lot of things-who you are? Why you're here? How you know me?"
His mouth twisted and he looked her in the eyes. "My name is Mr. Gold and you were a," he paused, "dear friend of mine from what I remember."
"Ok, Mr. Gold." Belle smiled warmly even though she felt like she should flee the room. "I'm sorry that I can remember you. I'm sure it'll come back to me eventually."
Doubt flashed across Mr. Gold's face before the carefully constructed mask reappeared.
"Can you tell me how you ended up in the pawn shop?" Belle asked, leaning back in her seat.
Mr. Gold chuckled and looked away for a moment. "I can tell you exactly how I got there." He leaned forward, a smirk playing on his lips as Belle subconsciously leaned closer.
"I died."