One:
OMG I can't believe I'm starting yet another fic on this sight, it's like I find a new muse literally crawling out of the woodwork and must write to satisfy the urge. This fic is a complete and utter experiment so feedback is most definitely welcome. Hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it.
New York, December 25th 1932. A city in the midst of depression, gripped by the frigid fingers of hunger and misery. Every day the crowds outside the soup kitchens grew, the churches overflowed with abandoned infants and the park overflowed with the stench of human suffering. Over the fetid city, a storm gathered. Swollen clouds covered the sky and only the bravest and most desperate stalked the city pavements heads bent against the freezing blasts off the Atlantic. One of these poor souls was a young girl, barely of age, struggled homewards, her pale face tucked away into the tattered shawl around her thin shoulders. As she passed Central park the heavens opened and the street was suddenly drenched, as though the sky itself wept for humanity. People scattered in every direction, desperate to find shelter, except the girl who simply paused. Standing in the centre of the soaking street she raised her face to the sky and allowed herself to be completely saturated by the sheets of water. People gawped. They always did, but she didn't care. She whirled and laughed openly, flagrantly challenging the weather, and restarted her walk.
"Strange girl." People whispered, watching her curiously as she passed, eager for any kind of spectacle to distract themselves. Belle de Boire continued towards her home, unperturbed by the rain around her. Drenched to the bone she entered her street and raced to the very end, jumping the small fence and hurrying to the door of her home. Her numbed fingers fumbled with the key but eventually she opened the door and pushed her way inside. To her surprise the place was silent and dark. The draft from the door sent her father's papers fluttering to the floor and she peered around the dimly lit room warily.
"Papa!" She called and hurriedly closed the door on the howling wind. Puddles began to form on the hardwood floor beneath her as a steady stream of water drained from her sopping woollen dress. She hung the soaking shawl up on its peg and stepped out of her ruined shoes. A faint cough could be heard from the depths of the house and she walked quickly through the living room, entering the tiny kitchen. It was no warmer in there for even the pot-bellied stove was unlit. A huddled figure slumped over the table, it's head buried in is arms.
"Papa?" Belle repeated and the man moved slowly, tiredly twisting to face his only child.
"Belle, I'm so sorry." He whispered softly and she knew, she knew he'd finally lost his job. Staggering to kneel beside him she took his rough, soot stained hand between her cold, pale ones and held it tenderly to her wet cheek.
"Oh Papa, we'll get by… it's Christmas, they wouldn't turn us out on Christmas." She said confidently and he coughed, his great shoulders shaking as the racking sounds echoed throughout the chilled house. The auburn haired girl shuddered and immediately helped him to his feet. He rose, like a child seeking comfort, and she lead him gently back into the only other room in the house. Lovingly she lay him down beneath the covers, stroked his forehead soothingly and kissed his scratchy cheek.
"Goodnight Papa, everything will be right tomorrow." She said and turned away briefly to strip her sodden dress and stockings from her dripping frame before towelling herself off quickly. Pulling on a faded linen shift she pulled back the other side of the covers and crawled into bed, like she always did, pressing herself into the small of her father's back. His warmth soon drove the chill from her body and she sighed happily, allowing her eyes to drift close.
OoOoOoO
It was snowing that Christmas and looking out of the window Belle smiled at the fresh winter blanket, its gentle purity driving away the cold, grey drizzle of New York's streets. She turned to face her father, Maurice, who sat by the table, a bottle of cheap beer in his hand. She frowned and moved to take it from him, eyeing it distastefully as she poured it down the sink.
"Now Papa, I'll be back after the service... I have to drop off that book I borrowed from Lettie." She said and kissed him on the cheek, her nose crinkling slightly as the coarse hair of his face tickled it. She laughed and stepped away. He smiled at her fondly.
"You're a good girl Belle, have fun." He called as she twirled happily on her heel and fled to the living room; stepping into her best pair of shoes, and tugging her plain light blue shawl on over her shoulders. She grabbed her basket, the book nestled safely inside.
"Bye Papa!" She called and stepped outside into the freshly fallen snow. Quickly she walked down the road to the little parish, where a large crowd was already gathered outside the door. She smiled politely at those who yelled their greetings and moved inside quickly to find a seat. The tiny church was packed with people and she smiled as she sidled down an unassuming pew to watch the quaint proceedings. Soon they began and she listened as the priest droned on with his Christmas message and partook in the communal hymn singing when the time came. She remembered the time when her mother had taken her every Sunday, clasping her beautiful rosary between her slender fingers and mouthing every line of the service as though they were a life line. Mea culpa, mea culpa. Nowadays Belle only had time for the odd service or two, and of course Christmas mass. With a chargrinned expression Belle bowed her head in prayer as the priest began to close the ceremony, she was sure her mother was rolling in her grave at her faithlessness. When the service was finished she stood with the congregation and moved to the front of the room. The priest, an aged man with white hair and shrew blue eyes turned as she approached.
"Greetings Belle, a Merry Christmas to you." He called and she smiled.
"Merry Christmas Father, I was wondering if you knew of anyone hiring at the moment?" She asked and the old man twisted to face her steadily. He sighed and shook his head.
"I'm sorry child but I'm afraid you would have to go and look at the boards on Broad, everyone's axing at the moment." He told her sadly and she nodded. He blessed her and she ducked her head respectively. Pivoting on her tiny heel she hurried down the aisle and out the door into the Christmas morning, delighted at the perfect snowflakes that fell all around her. She walked down the side of the street, smiling at passing children who played happily in the surrounding snow until she arrived at Lettie's Bookstore. A bell tinkled overhead as she stepped inside, the heat from the small stove doing wonders for her chilled fingers. Lettie was sitting behind her desk, her wire framed glasses perched expectantly on the bridge of her nose when she glanceed up. She smiled at Belle and waved her over.
"Belle, finished already?" She asked and Belle laughed. Handing the book to the mousy haired woman she nodded.
"I simply couldn't put it down. The story ended so wonderfully, oh Lettie if only such a thing were possible, if only there were more men like Darcy out there." She mused dreamily and Lettie chuckled fondly as she placed the book down on the desk.
"You never know my girl, one day you may get your Prince." She said and Belle smiled. Shaking her head she browsed the collection of tomes and plucked one from its place. Lettie smiled and waved of the proffered penny.
"Belle, you should know by now that I don't charge you… those books always come back in better condition than when I let them go. Go on!" Lettie ordered and pushed Belle towards the door. Belle giggled and stepped outside once again, calling her thanks over her shoulder. Bemusedly she hooked her basket over her arm. Humming to herself she perused the city streets, the book opened before her nose as she went. It was a skill she was quite proud of, her ability to amble through even the thickest of crowds with her nose buried in the pages of a book without once bumping into another living soul. She stopped briefly outside the post office, glancing at the crowded job board glued to its window whistfully before sighing and continuing on. She bit her lip as she worried over the rent. It was due in a few days but if her father was out of work then the landlord would surely kick them out. At that moment she saw a woman cross the street. She was dressed in a long unbuttoned overcoat that fell to her knees, beneath that her thin frame was clothed in a stained dress that might once have been lime green but now hung in torn folds around her thighs, exposing her garter and suspenders to the world which held up a pair of laddered stockings. Her hair was oily and fell in stray tangles around her sallow cheeks above which sunken brown eyes gazed at the world around her distantly.
"Ha'penny for a suck." She said to a passing man who brushed her off as one did a stray, flea-bitten dog, an expression of mild disgust on his face. She fell back and Belle moved to steady her. The woman tilted her head to glance at her before wrenching her arm free and sniffing haughtily.
"Don' need help from the likes of you missy." She spat and Belle coughed as the gut wrenching odour of stale sweat, gin and filth curled around her nostrils. The woman literally smelled of desperation and Belle sighed as she backed away from her ruefully.
"I'm sorry." She said and went to move away. From behind her she could hear the prostitute announcing her illicit wears for all the world to know and winced. Swearing to herself to starve before letting herself sink to that she stepped back onto the curb and reburied her nose into the adventures of Captain Nemo and his wondrous Nautilas. It took her about half an hour to reach Broad Street and she placed her book carefully into the basket over her arm, staring around the chaotic street in wonder. A sign heralding a jobs board caught her eye and she made her way over to it only to find it swarmed with people. Her heart sank but she pressed in to peer over shoulders and squeeze between elbows, thanking the stars for her slight figure which allowed her to move through the tight knit crannies of the crowd. She reached the board and ran a finger down the column of jobs vacancies available. A moment later a man appeared and shouted for everyone to back away. Something went off with a sharp bang and instantly the mob shrank away to admit the man who placed another sign over the top of the board. A small boy appeared at Belle's elbow, his pitifully wide eyes staring at the board blankly.
"Missus could you read us that?" He asked and she nodded.
"No vacancies." She read sadly and the boy's lip quivered. Belle clapped him on the shoulder comfortingly and just managed to catch a quick, brown hand snatch at her basket. He threw it in the air and she gasped, the sound brought the attention of a passing gentleman who shouted at a tiny girl who was now sprinting away, Belle's purse clutched in her tiny hands.
"Stop thief!" He yelled and the street paused to watch as the child was pursued. Belle watched stunned as a nearby police man caught the girl by her collar and began to drag her back up the street, all the while fighting as she kicked and spat like an alley cat in his grip.
"I didn't do nothing!" She was bellowing and Belle felt her heart break for the child who now stood before her, filthy cheeks lean with hunger as she gazed up at her. She bent down and clasped the tiny purse gently. Winking conspicuously at the girl she cleared her throat.
"Thank you for bring it back to me, I thought I had lost it." She said and the policeman frowned.
"What's this?" He asked gruffly and Belle, tucked a stray russet curl behind her ear shamefully.
"Gosh, I went to pay for a newspaper and found that I had dropped my purse on the way here… this little one was just fetching it for me." She lied and was glad to hear her voice didn't even quaver. The policeman shook the girl roughly by her grubby collar.
"Was that they way of things?" He glowered and she nodded quickly.
"Yes, missus dropped er purse, I's was jus fetchin it fer er." She muttered and her brother peered worriedly from a distance away. Belle smiled at the man who nodded and released the child without another word. He turned and marched away as the crowd slowly dispersed. Belle peeked down at the girl who was glaring at her with all her tiny might.
"You do know that your face with stay that way if the wind changes?" Belle teased her gently and the frown instantly faded away.
"You're fibbin me missus." The tike said bravely and Belle smirked. Nodding she opened her purse and pulled out one of the last pennies from its depths. Flicking it at the girl she waved and spun on her heel.
"Oi, thanks missus." The girl called and Belle twisted to respond only to find the child had disappeared like sea fog at midday. Her brother and partner in crime had also vanished and Belle shook her head bemusedly as she walked away. Her next problem was finding somewhere to think.
"That was a kind thing to do." A deeply accented voice called from beside her and her head snapped up to peer towards it curiously.
"What was?" She responded warily and an amused chuckle reached her ears. As she watched a man melted out form the crowd and moved towards her. He was tall, wiry and seemed to be dressed in an expensive-looking double breasted suit. She noticed that in his right hand he held a thin, black lacquered cane and tilted her face up to gaze into eyes dark as the sky before dawn. She swallowed and held her basket before her like some flimsy, half-hearted shield and lifted her chin bravely.
"Lying dearie, for those youngsters. Most people would just let the law take its course." He said, a thick Scottish brogue colouring his voice, and she shrugged nonchalantly.
"I'm not most people." She retorted and the corner of his thin mouth twitched upwards.
"I guessed that for myself dearie… what I don't get it why you would pay them though." He mused as though the concept of common decency was as foreign to him as the very moon. She folded her arms across her chest and glared at him.
"It's Christmas." She answered simply and he rolled his obsidian eyes sardonically.
"Of course, Christmas." He sneered and she quirked a brow.
"My question is why it bothers you so much." She asked and he smiled, his lips peeling back in a grin that was just a little alarming. Perhaps this man, despite his nice suit, was not quite right in the head.
"I saw you looking at the board my dear, I'm a business man you see… always room for investment." He murmured and she cocked her head to scrutinise at him calculatingly.
"You're hiring?" She asked and he nodded, playing with the tip of his cane idly as he mused over their conversation.
"Indeed, are you interested?" He asked and she brought a hand to her chin cynically.
"What exactly would I be doing?" She asked wryly and he smile broadened, if that were possible.
"Oh a little of this, little of that." He said cheerfully and she frowned.
"I'll think about it Mr…?" She paused and he snickered.
"Gold dearie, the name's Gold." He announced proudly and she puzzled over it for a moment, wondering where she'd heard it before.
"Mr Gold. Well, Mr Gold I have to say it's been a pleasure but I have to go home… my Papa is waiting for me." She said and he nodded, the smile gone and replaced by a bland, business hardened expression.
"Now dearie, I've told you my name and you seemed to have forgone your own." Gold said lazily and Belle slapped herself mentally for her rudeness.
"Belle de Boire." She said and extended her hand instinctively. Gold stared at it for a few moments in apparent shock before reaching out and clasping it firmly in his own gloved one.
"A pleasure." He said huskily and she felt her cheeks flush a little. Gently withdrawing her fingers from his she turned to peer around her and sighed.
"Well Mr Gold, I'll see you around." She said and Mr Gold nodded. A flicker of white caught her eye and he placed a smooth, crisp card into her palm. Winking cheekily at her he stepped away and pivoted on his heel. In moments, despite the obvious limp, he had disappeared into the crowd leaving Belle standing alone of the sidewalk with a small card in her hand and a stunned expression on her face. In a daze she wandered back the way she'd come, her book and Christmas totally forgotten as she stared down at the tiny paper card. Tucking it safely into the pocket of her coat she began to once again hum a cheerful carol, skipping slightly along the street.
OoOoOoO
"Papa?" Belle called as she jumped the fence. Momentarily forgetting her heels she found herself slipping on the icy path and grabbed at the flimsy wooden posts. Berating herself mentally she moved towards the open door and peered inside.
"Papa, I told you to keep the door… PAPA!" She cried as a scene of total devastation met her gaze. The living room had been completely decimated, the sparse furniture overturned and even smashed against the thin plastered walls, cushions ripped and their stuffing strew across the floor that was littered with smashed glass and skid marks. Belle stepped over the fallen coat rack and hurried into the similarly destroyed kitchen which resembled a devastated village a tornado had blown through. Crockery lay smashed in pieces upon the floor and the table was lying on its side.
"Papa!" She called frantically and a soft groan reached her ears from the bedroom. Moving towards it she flung the door open to see her beloved Papa sprawled across the floor, his face a bloody mess and his clothes torn and stained with dried blood. Flinging her basket to the floor she fell to her knees beside him and carefully tilted his face towards her.
"Papa please open your eyes." She begged and Maurice de Boire's swollen eyes gingerly twitched open. Tears were now streaking down Belle's cheeks as she cradled her father against her chest.
"Who did this to you?" She demanded and he coughed, bloody phelgum bursting out from between his splint lips. It landed on her Sunday dress, a dainty blue frock of crimped crinoline and lace but she didn't care.
"Who Papa?" She spat and he opened his mouth.
"That band of misfits, the Ogres." He said and Belle felt her mouth thin out into a sharp line of fury.
"They did this to you?" She demanded and he nodded.
"Because I gave them lip yesterday. I had lost my job and was being stupid, oh god Belle please forgive me." He pleaded and Belle shushed him. Leaving him momentarily she raced back into the kitchen and grabbed a nearby tea towel to carefully begin to wipe the grime from his abused face, her tears providing adequate moisture to wash it clean. When she'd done as much as possible she hauled him to his feet and half carried him to the bed, laying him in it and pulling the covers to his chin. His eyes closed and within moments he was asleep. Tremulously she re-entered the devastated house, taking in the destruction through numbed eyes. Everything of value had been destroyed, the furniture, china-wear and even the clothes that had been out at the time the Ogres had been there. Belle bit her lip and her hands planted themselves on her hips. For the next three hours she attempted to clean up the house, sweeping up the broken crockery and glass and dumping it outside into the trash. The stuffing from the pillows she tried to save, thinking perhaps she'd at least try to mend them before giving up hope. Finally all the furniture was heaved into its correct positions and that which was broken was also taken outside and dumped on the street. On her final trip Belle heard their neighbour, Mrs Harris, call out to her from her upstairs window.
"I saw them lass. Have you called the lawmen yet?" She asked and Belle shook he head.
"No point is there Mrs Harris, if it was the Ogres than its better I don't say anything." She said and the woman clucked disapprovingly.
"It aint right." She said and Belle nodded.
"It ain't right for them to treat decent folk this way, this neighbourhood used to be safe and now I wouldn't let my grandson stay here for a day let alone live here… it's this depression, sent everyone mad it has." She Mrs Harris continued doggedly and Belle smiled thinly, waving absently over her shoulder.
"You take care now Belle, keep that door locked." Her neighbour called and Belle sighed, closing the wooden portal closed and sinking against it tiredly. Grabbing her basket from the kitchen she moved the stretch out on the sette and opened her book, only to find her mind wouldn't let her concentrate on the story. She realised that she was furious, her blood fair boiling at the sheer nerve of these bullies, these cowards who picked on innocent people who had little more to survive on then they did. White hot fury filled her and she stood angrily to pace the room. What a fine way to spend Christmas, beating an old man half to hell because their stupid prides had been pricked. Her mood now irrevocably ruined Belle paced the living room, determined to not only wear a trail into the floor but come up with a sufficient plan to get them back without causing further harm to anyone else. Unfortunately her brain storming was interrupted by a knock at the door and she walked over to it, her mouth opening to berate the person stupid enough to disturb her temper tantrum. Throwing it open she paused and stared in shock at the red roses that filled her vision. The man behind it was tall with broad, muscular shoulders and a dashing smile he all too readily displayed for the female view. All in all Gaston was a fine specimen of a man but Belle had always found him to be obnoxious and rather too dim for her tastes. Everything was about cars and guns, nothing substantial like the day's politics or mission trips to the orphanages of India. No more often than not Belle found herself trying to withhold the urge to strange herself on her scarf whilst listening to the man speak. He was nice to her but extremely dull, not at all what she wanted in a beau. She told him this often however he unfortunately took her constant rejections as a sign of playing it cool and persisted in pursuing her as he would a deer.
"My loveliest Belle, Merry Christmas." Gaston's voice sounded from behind the enormous bouquet and Belle could do nothing other than take the impressive bunch from his outstretched hand.
"G-gaston, what on earth?" She demanded and lifted her gaze to meet the handsome face of the man before her. He smiled and bent to press a swift kiss to her lips, catching her ear instead when she hurriedly twisted her face away.
"They're for you, roses on Christmas." He said and she nodded.
"I can see that but why?" She asked and he frowned.
"Now Belle, is it not customary for a man to give a woman flowers?" He asked and she quirked a single brow scornfully.
"Indeed but that generally done when they are together, which we are not." She added swiftly when she saw his mouth open to retort. It clamped shut and his blue eyes were narrowed slightly with irritation.
"They're lovely but I just don't have time for this today, please let me finish my…"
"Belle when are you going to get you head out of those bloody books and focus you attention on important things, like me?" He asked and Belle put a finger to her mouth in mock wonder.
"Let me see, not for a long time." She snapped and slammed the door in his stunned face. Furiously she threw the red blooms against the wall, washing their crimson petals fall like bloody snow to the floor.
"Urgh! What a chauvinistic, self-centred pig!" She muttered to herself and stomped back into the living room to flop down on the sette. Frustrated that her Christmas was now ruined Belle glared at the broken clock on the mantel and watched idly as the hands moved stoically around and around, counting the very minutes till she could be acceptably miserable in public.
OoOoOoO
"Papa, we need the money." She reasoned sensibly but still her father refused to co-operate, stubbornly shaking his sandy head and glaring at her reproachfully.
"No Belle, you don't even know what this man is asking of you… when I feel up to it I'll head to the notice board and ask around." He said and she frowned. He grasped her had tightly and made her focus on at him.
"Promise me you won't contact this Mr Gold, whoever he is, promise me you'll at least wait." He begged and she shook her head reluctantly.
"Papa, we have two days to pay the rent and we have two pennies in my purse to cover it… you're out a job and I'm old enough to start working for our keep, give me a chance." She pleaded and Maurice de Boire groaned as his only child stared at him with wide, beseeching azure eyes.
"My baby Belle." He murmured and she clasped his hand tightly, bringing it to her cheek as she'd done since she as a small girl.
"I'm not a baby any more Papa, I'm 18 years old, I can do this." She said confidently and finally her father nodded. Excitedly she raced to the door and paused. Rushing back she kissed the top of his head lovingly before running out of the room to grab her shawl and winter stockings from where they hung beside the stove. Tugging them on she stepped into her shoes and walked out the door. She was barely able to make out the post office for all the roiling snow floating from the grey clouded sky above her. Stubbornly she wound her way towards it and pushed open the door of the small store, easing her way towards the payphone on the far wall. Taking out the business card and a single penny from her threadbare pocket she offered a quick prayer to whatever diety existed that she was doing the right thing before sliding the penny into the slot and reading the mysterious name on the card. The phone clicked in her ear and a smooth female voice asked her for her request. Hastily Belle gave her the name and waited as the woman connected her through. It rang out exactly three times before a familiar Scottish voice sounded in her ear.
"This is Gold." He said and Belle took a deep breath.
"Um, Mr Gold?" She asked and a small chuckle echoed through the phone.
"Well now if it isn't the orphan saving angel of Broad St, what can I do you for dearie?" He asked and Belle stared stunned at the wall above the phone.
"You remember me?" She asked and the chuckled rang out again, louder this time and distinctly more genuine.
"Indeed Belle, I do… have you reconsidered my proposal?" Gold asked and Belle took a deep fortifying breath.
"I have but I would like to know exactly what I would be doing should I actually accept it." She asked and the man on the other end of the phone paused as though contemplating whether it was worth answering her question. He was silent for so long Belle considered actually hanging up.
"Do you know of The Palace?" He asked after a long pause and Belle's throat caught, a thick lump at its base.
"Yes." She said and Gold snorted.
"I can't offer respectability, or even that much security, but I can offer you paid work that will see your rent paid weekly." He said and she swallowed.
"What else?" She asked and Gold was once again laughing through the phone.
"My, my I was under the impression I was offering employment, not five star contractual work but since you've asked I could see what I can do about a certain gang problem you seem to have run afoul of recently." He remarked idly and Belle inhaled sharply. Clutching the phone so tightly her knuckles showed white she whispered hoarsely into the phone.
"How do you know about that?" She demanded angrily, outraged at the thought of him prying.
"I'm a businessman Belle, I investigate any investment I undertake most carefully before I take a step." He said and she knew by his tone that he wouldn't answer any more questions about it now. She thought over her options, which there weren't very many of and sighed.
"Do we have a deal then?" She asked and Gold snorted.
"Do you agree to sign yourself entirely to my employ, without question?" He asked and she nodded.
"Yes." She said firmly and even he seemed a little stunned.
"Are you sure?" He asked and she knew she was being given a chance to back out. She remembered her father's battered face, the destroyed furniture and Gaston's superior smirk.
"Yes I'm sure." She said and Gold hummed with satisfaction.
"Very well, I'll be around tomorrow with the contract." He said and she was suddenly listening to the buzz of a disconnected phone. Slamming the contraption into its cradle she stepped away and covered her face with her hands.
"What have I done?" She asked herself and spun on her heel to dash out of the crowded shop. She pelted down the white covered avenue before sprinting to her door and kicking it open. Stripping down hurriedly she launched herself onto the sette and picked up her book as her Papa lurched from their room to see what was happening.
"Belle darling, what has happened?" He asked and she shrugged.
"I got the job." She said and Maurice swallowed heavily, his livid bruises seeming to bulge slightly before he recovered his grace and leant against the doorframe.
"Good for you sweetheart but what's the problem?" He asked and she sighed heavily.
"I start tomorrow, Mr Gold will be here to give me the contract." She said and her Papa started warily.
"A contract, you never said…"
"I know but he just told me he'd be coming so I guess that's the end of that." She said and he groaned, rubbing his faced tiredly and wincing when he brushed the tender flesh a little too roughly.
"If you don't mind I think I'll go to bed now Papa, I'm not all that hungry." She said and he nodded, allowing her to step past him and enter their shared bedroom. She stripped, donned her nightgown and crawled beneath the thin sheets. For hours she lay alone, unable to sleep and even when her Papa came in, blew out their candle and climbed in beside her she was still awake long after he'd slipped off to sleep. Her mind, simply too nervous for sleep churned worriedly through the night until finally, just before dawn she managed to slip into a fitful doze.
OoOoOoO
The unfamiliar sound of a car pulling up at the door made Belle's head snap up from the 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea in her lap and she found herself frozen to the spot.
"He's here Papa." She called and heard him moved to the door and open it.
"Mr Gold I presume?" He asked and she heard the tell-tale rumble of a brogue echo from the door.
"Ah Mr de Boire. I doubt I need explain my presence to you." Gold said and her Papa's visibly tightened with anger.
"No, come in." He said and Gold stepped smartly over the threshold, staring around the place in a calculating manner that set Belle's teeth on edge.
"I can assure you Mr Gold it won't call down around you." She quipped and his onyx eyes flickered to her, taking her entire person in shrewdly before a small smirk twisted his lips.
"Dearie me, someone didn't sleep well last night." He observed and she pulled a face.
"Speak for yourself." She retorted and, catching her Papa's eye, clamped her mouth shut and stood gracefully. Or rather she tried to stand gracefully but just ended up stumbling over the leg of the sette and managing to embarrass herself further in front of the impeccably dressed man before her. Another black suit adorned his thin frame and his right hand curled around the ever present cane. In the other he held a tight roll of paper which she took to be her contract. He noticed her gaze on it and smiled.
"Shall we?" He asked and she straightened her shoulders.
"Sooner rather than later." She said with as much bravado as she could. He smiled and she moved past him to take a pen from the drawer and hold out her hand for the contract. He handed it to her and she unfolded it quickly. Her eyes scanned the neatly written document and several phrases caught her attention immediately.
"I have to leave with you?" She asked and her Papa spluttered indignantly from behind them.
"Absolutely not." He thundered and Gold snorted.
"Dearie you made a deal, either stick to it…"
"I will." She said irritable and turned to face her father bravely.
"Papa, it is alright. I'll send you letters by the dozen so it'll be like I'm here anyway." She said and tried to ignore the slight glimmer in her beloved father's eyes. She examined Mr Gold instead and raised her chin a notch.
"Any other surprises I should know about?" She asked ad he shrugged.
"Possibly but you'll have time to find them, I assure you." He said and she nodded. Taking the pen she held it above the line at the base of the document and paused.
"And our agreement?" She asked and he held a hand over his heart.
"I swear to honour our agreement." He promised and she knew that he would. Despite the risk she knew she was taking she instinctively guessed that he would keep his word no matter what happened. Shakily she signed the paper and handed it to him, placing the pen down as he grasped it and checked it over carefully before curling it back up cautiously. The he held out his hand.
"Come dearie, your carriage awaits." Gold announced and she stared at his arm for a moment before slipping her fingers around it and stepping closer to him. She was surprised to find that up close he smelled of musky sandle-wood and woollen thread. She blushed slightly and followed as Gold tugged her gently to the door.
"Go to the car." He commanded and she opened her mouth to protest, to ask to say goodbye and he frowned.
"You promised to leave without question." He reminded her and she snapped her mouth shut and glanced back once to see her broken looking father.
"I love you Papa." She said and he blew her a kiss which she wished she could have returned without Gold's prying eyes upon them. Suddenly close to tears she whirled on her heel and stalked jauntily to the car, climbing into the back seat without embarrassing herself and staring resolutely ahead. A few moments later Gold sidled awkwardly into the back, his cane making it only slightly uncomfortable since he now needed to anticipate a second person beside him in the small space.
"Go." He order brusquely and the car slid forward smoothly. The last thing Belle saw when she peered back was the imposing figure of her Papa, standing in the doorway of his now empty house, tears sliding down his rough, bearded cheeks.
Holy crap on a cracker, this was really, really hard to write. I have fallen in love with the whole Rumbelle canon, second only to my internal love affair of Robert Carlyle who plays our amazing rumple in UoaT. Please let me know if you think this is worth continuing, it's kind of an experiment so please review and let me know.