Chapter 3: Something There
It was a chilly, rainy Thursday night in October when he drove back into Storybooke around eight o' clock, after what felt like one of the longest meetings of his life. A dull headache was throbbing behind his temples and his ankle was aching, probably due to the sudden drop of temperature.
Not feeling like cooking for himself or exert himself in any way to obtain food, he opted to stop by at Granny's Diner for a quick meal.
He sat down at his usual booth and ordered a steak from Ruby, looking uncomfortably around him and wishing he'd brought his newspaper. He noticed that the place was pretty packed for a regular Thursday and that it took a while before his steak arrived. But upon noticing the somewhat wild look on Ruby's face and the drops of perspiration on her forehead as she put down his plate, he decided against commenting on it.
It was only then that he realized that she was managing the place by herself and that Mrs Jones was nowhere in sight.
He felt secretly relieved by this. Grandma Jones, as she was affectionately called in town, hated his guts and although he never lacked the sarcasm to reply to her often openly hostile remarks, he was grateful there wouldn't be any display of that tonight.
Ruby came to collect his plate soon after he had finished his meal and he was surprised to find her lingering at his table.
"Is something the matter, Miss Jones?" he asked her, eyebrows raised.
"Well… yes…" The provocatively dressed waitress fiddled nervously with the plate in her hands. "Actually… I wanted to ask something of you, Mr. Gold."
He decided there and then that if she asked him for a loan, he would refuse. Grandma Jones would have his head.
Along with various other parts of his body.
"What can I do for you?" he pressed on, wishing the girl made her point.
"Well, it's not me exactly… it's for my friend, Belle French…"
Immediately he froze and he felt his jaw clenching. "What about her?" he managed to grunt out.
"Well, she works until nine at library tonight," Ruby started to explain hurriedly. "And I promised to pick her up there when she's done. Right now it's not a good idea for her to be out on the streets alone, so we usually walk back to her flat together…"
"Hold it!" He interrupted her sharply. "Why shouldn't she be outside on her own?"
"Because of Gaston Frollo, he's been bothering her lately…" Ruby was still picking up speed as she talked. "He keeps asking her out and although she keeps say 'no', he isn't exactly picking up on it…"
"Why hasn't the sheriff been informed about this?" He asked, anger boiling to the surface. He knew exactly who Gaston Frollo was, a pompous, conceited, self-serving jerk of a young man.
More importantly, he knew who Gaston's father was.
"Belle thinks she can handle it," Ruby replied, her expressive eyes turning worried. "But I've dealt with Gaston Frollo before … he is bad news and I don't trust him."
"Hey sister, I'm still waiting for that burrito!" an angry voice called from the bar.
"Coming!" Ruby yelled back. "Look," she said hurriedly, "I promised I'd meet her after the library closes, but my gran went home sick earlier this evening and I'm on my own here.
Could you please walk her back to her flat? I don't think anyone would dare to try anything with you around."
Panic started in the pit of his stomach and he took a deep breath to gather his thoughts.
Ruby however was running out of time. "Please?" she implored, her face pleading.
A surge of protectiveness flared up inside him. No harm would come to Belle if he could help it.
He gave Ruby a grim nod. "Not to worry, Miss Jones. I'll see to it that your friend gets home safely."
Ruby visibly relaxed at this confirmation. "Thank you Mr. Gold. I owe you one."
He got to his feet and clenched his fingers around the handle of his cane, giving the waitress a small smile. "Never mind. Consider it a favor."
Checking his watch as he stepped out of the diner, he realized he had only five minutes to make it to the library and to ready himself for a meeting with her were he couldn't hide behind the excuse of a business call.
It would take all of his willpower to keep his mask in place and his feelings in check while he was feeling like a nervous wreck on the inside.
With every step he took he became more worried if she would even allow him to walk her home, or that she would be repulsed by the suggestion of his company as was the default opinion of the rest of the town.
And on top of that he was out of his mind with aggravation and worry about the fact that someone was trying to intimidate and scare his Belle.
It was because of that mostly that he continued walking.
'She's got a monster now to protect her against the villain,' the voice whispered viciously. 'How wonderful for her.'
He arrived at the library just as she was closing the door behind her. When she turned, she looked around, presumably trying to find Ruby, a look of apprehension crossing her face as she didn't see her.
Gathering his courage he stepped away from the shadows and announced himself quietly. "Good evening, Miss French."
She swirled around, her eyes widening in surprise. "Mr Gold! What are you doing here?"
He came closer, carefully arranging his facial expression into a calm, collected look. "Miss Lucas sends her apologies. Her grandmother has taken ill and she was unable to meet you tonight, so she asked me to come instead."
He braced himself for her reaction, inwardly preparing himself for the rejection that would undoubtedly follow, but nevertheless he felt his heart sink when she let out a soft groan and lowered her head.
"She told you then, didn't she?" she asked warily.
"She told me of Mr. Frollo's… persistent method of asserting his wishes, yes," he answered in a flat tone of voice.
To his surprise she laughed at that, the warm, infectious giggle that was so characteristically Belle and he felt the corners of his lips turn up of their own accord.
She was utterly beautiful, standing there in the soft yellow light of a streetlamp, dressed in her bright red winter coat, a warm shawl wrapped snuggly around her neck and her eyes sparkling joyfully.
"Did she now?" she asked with a hint of mischievous in her voice. Then she sobered a little, looking up at him earnestly. "Really Mr. Gold, I appreciate you coming here, but you needn't trouble yourself on my account. I'm sure you have better things to do…"
He was very quick to reassure her. "Don't worry about that. It would be my pleasure to walk you home."
She remained hesitant for a moment longer, before giving him a relieved smile. "If you truly don't mind… then yes, please Mr. Gold. I'd feel a lot safer."
He indicated the road with a small nod of his head, inwardly unclenching. "Shall we?"
As she fell into step besides him, he managed for a moment to just simply enjoy her company. Then about half a minute later he realized he had absolutely no idea what to say to her. He tried to think of an interesting, compelling subject to talk to her about and his mind came up blank.
Then he tried to think of just anything to say to her that would break the silence that was growing more uncomfortable by the second and the panic settled back in full force.
"I hope Grandma Lucas' condition isn't too serious?" her worried voice penetrated his petrified haze.
"Oh… no…" He collected himself. "Ruby informed me she went home this afternoon, not suffering of rheumatism."
"Ow…" Belle gave a sympathetic shudder. "Poor Grandma… this weather must be horrible for her."
"I can imagine," he nodded, suddenly noticing the book she was holding as they walked. "What are you reading?"
She showed him the cover and his eyes widened in surprise. "Frankenstein? Really?"
"Don't give me that look!" she admonished him cheerfully. "It's one of my favorites. It's beautifully written."
"It is," he consented and she almost squeaked with delight. "You've read it? What did you think of it?"
She was asking him how he liked a book about a monstrous creature that repulsed everyone in sight and was unable to find love no matter how hard he tried.
Irony was a bitch.
"It's rather tragic." He ventured eventually. "Frankenstein creates a being that even he can't bring himself to care for. He created a true monster."
"The only monster in that story is Frankenstein himself," Belle countered vehemently. "He creates a helpless being, craving love and companionship and then turns his back on him. The creature has a lot more going for him than Frankenstein has."
God, he loved to see her all fired up like that.
"The creature ends up being a mass murderer," he argued though. "He does some unforgivable things."
"Perhaps," she admitted, "but it's all about the context. "He wasn't created to be a monster. He became one because his every attempt at finding love failed. He became a monster out of circumstances."
"But a monster nevertheless. Does the reason why matters, when the end result is this devastating?"
"I think it does," she answered after some thought. "He's still able to choose. Given alternative options, I think he'd able to change. Or rather let his non-violent side prevail."
"So, by your logic, the creature could still be redeemed?" he asked, not quite sure why he was holding his breath.
"Of course he could. He never had to become a murderer in the first place." They were walking slowly now, completely engrossed in their conversation and he was enthralled by her. "He begs Frankenstein for a companion, he even promises to live as a recluse for the rest of his life, as long as he doesn't have to be alone. But Frankenstein is so busy assuming all the evil he's up to, he never stops to listen. He only needed one person to love."
"But no-one could love him," He didn't want to damper her passionate defense of the creature, but he was too invested in the debate to back out now.
He underestimated her persistency though.
"No one could stand to look at him, there's a difference," She told him, her chin sticking out defiantly, her eyes bright.
"Being able to stand the sight of the person you aspire to love is kind of a basic requirement," he deadpanned.
"Well, then the problem is that he never found a person willing to stick out her eyes to be with him," she threw right back at him.
He actually stopped in the middle of the road, floored by her reasoning. "Now that's taking it to the extreme!" he exclaimed.
"Is it?" she replied hotly. "Is condemning a man to a loveless and lonely life that much more extreme then a woman only giving up her eyesight to be with the man she loves?"
"I…."
He wanted to take her in his arms and never let her go. This amazing woman with her topsy turvy view on the world and her unique capacity for love.
But of course he did nothing of the sort.
'Cowardless, spineless excuse of a man,' the voice mocked him. 'You're the type of monster who can't even dream of trying to inspire the kind of love she's talking about.'
The silence stretched between them until the look of determination on her face gave way to an embarrassed smile.
"Sorry, I tend to get too invested in the books I'm reading." she said apologetic, a slight blush colored her face.
"Don't be," he told her softly. "You make a very compelling argument."
She smiled incredulously at that, her eyes wide and a little confused.
They continued to walk on quietly, but he no longer felt uncomfortable because of it. Glancing sideways he noticed the happy, relaxed smile around her lips and it warmed his heart, realizing he hadn't felt this at peace himself in a very long time.
He also realized they were standing in front of her apartment now.
He took a breath and asked the question that had been plaguing him since Ruby made her request. "Miss French… Exactly how much is Gaston Frollo bothering you?"
Her face fell and her gaze dropped and he hated himself for breaking the beautiful spell they've been under while discussing 'Frankenstein', but he needed to know.
"He hasn't done anything, really…" she answered. "He's just been obnoxious and annoying and he makes my skin crawl."
"Has he laid his hands on you?" His voice was laced with cold rage.
"He tried to," she confessed. "Nothing too atrocious, but I'm just not interested in him that way. And he always brings his faithful entourage with him wherever he goes, so I prefer not to encounter him alone."
Gaston Frollo had something coming to him first thing tomorrow, he vowed to himself.
He pulled out his business card from the inside of his pocket and pressed it into her hand.
"If he ever bothers you again, or if you even think he is going to, contact me," he implored her. "Promise me."
She nodded hesitantly, cradling the card into her hand. He knew he was overreacting, probably overstepping a million boundaries, but it was this or spending the night in front of her home with a loaded riffle.
"I promise," she told him quietly and he found himself drowning in the depths of her blue eyes. "And thank you for tonight. I had a lovely time."
"So did I," he breathed. She was even more captivating, more lovely in real life than he'd build her up to be in his dreams and was falling head of heels in love with her all over again.
He didn't want to leave, but he couldn't think of anything else to say that would excuse his lingering.
"Sleep well," he conceded eventually, knowing she would walk away from him soon now.
"You too…" One last smile, one last look from those enchanting eyes and then she climbed up the stairs to her apartment, and he turned around and walked away, storing every precious moment of this perfect evening away inside his memory.
Just this one night, he told himself firmly. He would cherish the memory of it forever.
'Twenty minutes, more like," the voice taunted him, the all familiar ache and loneliness setting in his heart again.
Tomorrow everything would have returned to normal.
He sat at his regular booth the next morning, groggy from tiredness, barely able to make sense of the words that were swimming in front of him.
Sleep had been elusive, as he had expected and he was now holding on to his coffee as if it were his last lifeline.
Belle was sitting at the bar, chatting to Grandma Lucas who was moving around as if her joints had decided to go on a strike and seemed surprisingly unaffected. Briefly he wondered why he thought it would be otherwise.
He watched her put on her coat, before turning his attention back to the page before him, hearing her footsteps approach.
The soft, tantalizing clicking of her heels stopped the moment he'd expected her to pass his booth and out of instinct more than anything he looked up, startled.
She was standing there, smiling. Her chestnut curls dancing around her shoulders.
"Good morning, Mr Gold," she offered, before walking away, leaving him behind speechless.
Author's note: Again, thanks for the reviews and follows! I'm having a lot of fun writing this. Please let me know what you think!
