Belle had forgotten her purse, so she requested that Aurora wait in the lobby for her while she retrieved it. It was probably bad form, she thought to herself, pressing the down button of the elevator, her purse comfortably slung over her shoulder, to leave early her first week. But what else could she do? Friends were more important than her career; in any case, this situation seemed to warrant both matters.
The elevator doors opened and she gasped. Tavish Gold stood right in front of her, blinking in surprise.
"We meet again," He remarked. "Come to this place often?"
She couldn't help but giggle girlishly as she stepped inside, thanking her luck that no one else followed her. She pressed the lobby button and attempted not to stare.
"You seem to be settling in nicely," Gold observed. "You're a very talented editor."
Belle blinked at him in surprise and he chuckled a little.
"I've worked with Killian Jones for over ten years," He said dryly. "I know his writing style. His latest emails and proposals have been unusually grammatical, less typos and errors."
She flushed. "Well—I was an English major, once upon a time." She attempted to squelch the feelings of delight and pleasure that he had noticed and complimented her.
"Going to lunch?" Gold asked her idly, and from the peculiar, almost too cavalier tone in his voice, she almost wondered if he was about to ask to join her.
"Oh—er, no, I'm taking the rest of the day off," Belle explained, fidgeting with the strap of her purse. "Just meeting with some friends."
He observed her carefully, and she wondered if she was about to be told off for leaving early her first week.
"Is everything all right?" Gold asked simply and her heart swelled.
"Yes," Belle assured him. "Just a little—little friend emergency. I know it will work out, I just…just want to be there." To her regret, the elevator doors opened and she stepped out into the lobby. Tavish Gold followed.
"Well," He said quietly. "Please…let me know if there's anything I can do." She smiled at him and he gave her an awkward smile back that immediately endeared him to her. She flashed him one more grin and reached Rory, who was glumly checking her phone.
XXXX
The bar wasn't particularly seedy, but the atmosphere of the place was depressing. Belle noticed Emma immediately, hunched over a whiskey sour, crumbling peanuts under her fingers. She led Rory towards her, taking a seat.
Emma eyed them both suspiciously. "What are you guys doing here?"
"I needed a drink," Rory announced. "A cosmopolitan, please."
Emma snorted. "Why do you need a drink? Aren't you living the dream? Getting all those presents, probably get paid more than the rest of us, all for sleeping with—"
"Emma, enough," Belle interrupted coldly. "Rory wasn't sleeping with Killian." She ordered a vodka martini with extra olives, settling on the barstool with a sigh.
"Oh, c'mon," Emma scoffed. "Everyone knows—"
"Where is everyone getting this information?" Rory demanded. "From who? Me? I've never even heard of this till today. Coming from Killian Jones, a highly reliable source, Emma?"
Emma opened her mouth and closed it. There was a long pause between the women, and finally, Emma cleared her throat.
"The thing about me, is for a smart person, I do some stupid shit," She cleared her throat again. "I'm sorry, Rory. I shouldn't have just assumed. Killian has had no trouble getting laid usually, I guess I just…"
"Well, the relationship I'm in—I won't call it usual or even normal," Rory swallowed a sip of her drink. "But I'm committed to it and I wouldn't ruin it for a slimy man like Killian."
"I think you should file a complaint against him," Belle put in cautiously. "Sexual harassment isn't something that can be shoved under the rug anymore, it can legitimately get him out of there."
"No, it won't," Emma sighed. "Thanks to Tavish Gold's pride."
"What do you mean?" Belle asked in alarm. Emma took a deep breath.
"Okay, so a long time ago, Gold was married to Neal's mom, right? Bitchy woman named Michelle. Well, Killian Jones had an affair with her while still working for Gold—it was a huge scandal, huge embarrassment. But Gold refused to fire Jones, because Jones was still making them money, was still a technical asset to the company. Gold just flat out refused. His pride was more important, which is why Killian's still here, taking credit for my work and harassing the underlings." Emma downed her drink and Belle wrinkled her nose.
"In any case, why should Gold care?" Rory sighed, her finger circling her glass. "We're nothing to him. He's not exactly a savior of women."
Belle disagreed. She had the uncanny feeling that were she to bring up her concerns with Tavish Gold, he would help—but she had been outvoted. She finished her drink with a long sigh.
"So…what now?"
"I'll tell you what," Rory said promptly. "We'll all go over to my house, have some more drinks, start our weekend off early. What do you say?"
Belle grinned. "I think that's a wonderful idea. What do you say, Emma? Up for it?"
Emma eyed them both and then broke out in a smile. "You know what? Let's do it. Let me call Neal and tell him to pick up Henry, and then I'm yours."
XXXX
Rory's apartment was cramped but cozy. It had the look of a well-loved home, the furnishings cheap but pretty, the walls decorated with pictures. To Belle's surprise, she noticed the majority of Rory's pictures included three people, rather than two—her husband, Phillip, Rory herself, and an Asian woman. Whatever the case, they seemed happy and full of life.
"Phillip's a musician," Rory explained, bringing over a bottle of wine to the table. "He'll be back probably around 3 or 4 AM, he always does late night gigs on weekends."
"And your roommate?" Emma gestured to one of the photos. Rory flushed a little bit.
"That's Ming," She cleared her throat. "She's a journalist, she travels a lot. She won't be back for another week. Unfortunately. She's…very close to Phillip and me." There was a peculiar stain of pink on Rory's cheeks, but Emma had moved on from the subject.
"So, check this out," She withdrew something from her purse and Belle's eyes widened. "Who's up for a smoke?"
"Oh my God," Rory squealed. "I haven't seen one of those since high school! Where did you even get that?"
"My friend Jefferson," Emma replied smugly. "He told me I needed to loosen up, if you'll believe it. So let's loosen up!"
Belle coughed. "I've uh…never actually done pot," She said meekly, taking a seat before them.
"Didn't you go to high school—or college for that matter?" Emma demanded mischievously, rummaging through her purse for a lighter.
"I was a quiet nerd in high school," Belle declared. "And in college I rarely left the library. You'll have to corrupt me, ladies."
"Glad to!" Emma crowed, lighting up.
XXXX
Several hours later, Emma, Rory, and Belle lay sprawled across the couch, watching an Audrey Hepburn movie.
"I'm having a nervous breakdown," Audrey said shakily on the television screen and Rory groaned, hiding under a pillow.
"I relate," She whimpered. "I relate. I want Phillip. And Ming." She buried her face in Belle's shoulders, who was watching the movie avidly.
"I don't really feel anything," She remarked brightly. "Except at how attractive Cary Grant is. Look at those lovely silver streaks in his hair. And look at Audrey go at him. I could be like Audrey. Audrey didn't care that she was just newly single, that she hardly knew Cary Grant, that everything said he was bad news. She followed her heart. I could be like that."
"You sure get chatty when you're high," Emma commented dryly. "Goddammit, where the hell are those egg rolls? I ordered them like five minutes ago, WHY AREN'T THEY HERE?!"
"I think I read somewhere that Audrey Hepburn's coat is in a museum somewhere," Belle's eyes went big and she smacked both women's legs. "We should steal it. Right after I take Cary Gold into my bedroom."
"No, what we should do," Emma pronounced, not noticing Belle's slip of the tongue. "Is kill Killian Jones."
Rory emerged from her pillows and Belle's back, gasping. "We should. That would be amazing."
"How would you do it, Belle?" Emma laughed maniacally. "How would you kill Jones?! You're such a goody two shoes, you've got to be hiding some evil. Tell us."
Belle's eyes brightened. "You know…I know exactly what I would do. I'd hunt him down, just like a deer…"
Belle walked through the dark, empty office, shotgun close to her chest. It was night, the fluorescent lights flickering on and off—she had cut the power. The sound of dogs barking made a raucous in the distance, and she smiled knowingly.
She opened the door to Killian's office, clicking it shut. She smiled when she saw Killian Jones, huddled near his desk.
"Well, hello Jones," Belle greeted him easily. "Looks like you've gotten yourself in a spot of trouble."
"Belle, you've got to help me," Killian said desperately. "There's an angry mob out there, they want to kill me!"
"Now why would they want to do a nasty thing like that?" Belle wondered aloud. "Perhaps because you're a sexist egotistical lying hypocritical bigot?"
Killian flinched at the terminology. "I'm not so bad," He protested. "Thousands of women love me."
"Sexist egotistical lying hypocritical bigots can certainly have pretty faces," Belle said kindly, cocking her rifle. "But I call a spade a spade, a wart on the face of humanity. And now, I'm going to blast it off. Goodbye, boss man. Quittin' time." She fired the shotgun towards him and Killian yelped. He dove across his desk, scrambling towards the door.
Killian ran like a man on fire through the office. He hit the ground when Belle calmly cocked her shotgun once more, firing, Apple computers exploding all around him.
He continued to run madly, Belle firing at anything that moved, until he screamed like a little girl. Hiding under a plastic wastebasket, he dashed through a pink door and Belle followed him into a women's bathroom. She slowly walked towards the last stall, heels clicking against the linoleum, and kicked the door down. Killian sat, huddled on the toilet.
"This is for all the rapey innuendos," Belle declared before firing her shotgun. The dream melted into Belle's new office, where Killian Jones' head was mounted on the wall while Belle calmly cleaned her gun.
"A remarkable shot," Tavish Gold appeared in her doorway. "I am impressed."
"You ought to be," Belle returned. "Always happy to exterminate your pest problems, Mr. Gold…"
He walked towards her and she snatched his tie, capturing him like a leash. "Please," He rumbled and she shivered at his hot breath on her cheek. "Call me Tavish…"
"These egg rolls are fucking delicious," Emma moaned, breaking Belle out of her reverie.
"Thank you for making me waffles, Belle," Rory said with childlike innocence. "I love waffles so much."
"I can't believe I can even cook," Belle pondered, taking a seat next to Rory at the dining room table. "It feels weird to walk. Walking is so weird. We just stand up and move our legs and suddenly we're walking."
The three women erupted into giggles. Gasping for breath, Belle reached over and poked Rory.
"Rory, how would you do him in?" She wanted to know. "Tell me! What would you do?"
Rory attempted to control herself. "Oh, I…I don't know," She giggled, taking a large bite of a twizzler.
"Yes you do!" Emma accused. "You know exactly what you'd do. Tell us now!"
Rory's eyes sparkled. "All right—well, if you girls must know—I'd give him a little taste of his own medicine, y'know? If he weren't such a scumbag, he would be attractive…so I'd let him know how it feels…"
The office no longer looked like a jungle—rather, it looked like an English boarding school. Rory came riding up on a beautiful, black stallion, decked head to toe in expensive, English riding wear. She dismounted easily, brushing the dirt off her clean, cream-colored breeches, and smacked her riding crop against the palm of her hand. She strolled into our office, pressing the intercom button.
"Killian Jones," She sang out. "Get your sexy ass in here, please."
The door opened and Killian Jones entered. He looked almost abashed—which was no wonder, as he was wearing naught but a leather speedo and a snazzy bowtie around his neck.
"Good morning, Mrs. Costa," Killian said meekly and Rory held up her riding crop.
"Hold it right there," She ordered.
"S-something wrong?"
"No, not at all," Rory gave him a sunny smile. "Just enjoying the view. So glad you took up my suggestion to wear that little number, it really shows off your ass nicely."
Killian managed a forced smile and Rory cocked her head, smacking the riding crop against her palms.
"You know, what happened to that lovely eyeliner I bought you?" She wondered aloud. "Your eyes could be so sexy, you know, so sensual. You ought to wear that, show them off."
"Yes, Mrs. Costa," Killian cleared his throat awkwardly. "Please, Mrs. Costa…you're making me uncomfortable."
"Oh, rubbish," Rory said idly, fingering her crop. "You're too tense is all. Don't you know how to take a compliment? It's a compliment for me to say how tight your ass looks, You should be more grateful." She circled her desk like a vulture, facing him head on. She smacked her crop against his chest and he flinched.
"Now just you remember," Rory said with deathly calm. "From nine to five, your life belongs to me, you hear me? If you care about your job, you better do as I say." She smacked her crop against his behind and Killian muffled a yelp.
At this point, it seemed Killian had had enough. He ran for the door and Rory clucked impatiently.
"It's not my discipline, but I am proficient," She remarked, lifting a leather rope from one of the wall hangings. Like an experienced roper, she swirled it in the air, following Killian, and promptly caught him around his bare waist. Killian fell to the ground and she hog-tied him, cocking her head in satisfaction.
"Now that's more like it," Rory purred. "All tied up and nowhere to go. With that leather number, you surely are asking for it."
"But you made me wear this!" Killian protested.
Rory laughed. "As if that's supposed to matter!"
"Once an equestrian, always an equestrian!" Rory hooted and Belle fell off the couch, she was laughing so hard.
"And what about you?" Belle gasped, tears of mirth streaming down her cheeks. "Emma? How would you bump off the boss?"
"Hmm…" Emma contemplated. "Well—if any of you let anyone know this, I will murder you both—but I've always had a thing for fairytales. So I'd want it to be like that—gruesome and sick and twisted—but poetic and kinda cute..."
"Emma! Get me some coffee!"
Emma beamed. "Yes, sir!" She wore a large, purple, ballroom dress as she sat next to her desk. She stood gracefully, skipping towards the office kitchenette. At her heels, a large white wolf followed as well as well as an assortment of twittering birds.
Emma glided over towards the coffee cups, snatching one down, her smile never faltering. She poured the coffee, humming something that sounded suspiciously like the theme from Snow White, while the birds included a three-part harmony.
She withdrew from a small cloth satchel at her side a red apple with a large bite mark in it. She hummed a little tune and the apple disappeared into purple smoke, which seeped into the hot cup of coffee. She stirred it, the metal spoon dissolving, and sighed.
"Such a pity I'm out of flour. Apple turnovers are just the thing for coffee in the morning," Emma said brightly to the white wolf who whined in response.
She strolled out of the kitchenette, heading straight for Killian's office, a delighted smile on her face as the birds twittered around her. Killian was busily reading a memo as she carefully placed the Mickey Mouse mug in front of him.
"Your coffee, Mr. Jones," Emma purred.
He didn't even glance at her, picked up the coffee and took a sip. A bird tweeted in laughter and Emma sternly put her finger on her mouth, shushing the creature.
Suddenly, Killian jerked, steam coming out of his ears. He screamed in agony and Emma giggled girlishly. His head began spinning like a top on his shoulders and the white wolf howled in distress. Emma petted its head gently.
Killian's head came to an abrupt halt and Emma clucked. "I think there was something in that coffee," He sobbed aloud.
Emma stepped behind his swivel chair, leaning next to his ear. "I think you're right."
"I think it was poison!" Emma chuckled as she pushed his chair towards the window.
"Right again," Emma sang, opening the window.
"I think you did it!" Killian wailed, clutching his armrests. Emma didn't answer, only sang a lovely warble, before sticking her tongue out.
"But why?" Killian swallowed as Emma cranked a lever, lifting his chair off the ground.
"Why do you think?" Emma asked philosophically as the birds began their three part harmony.
"Because I'm a sexist egotistical lying hypocritical bigot?" Killian attempted a smarmy smile that did nothing to falter Emma.
"Bingo!" Emma announced, cranking the lever. Her hapless boss was then launched out the window into the stratosphere. The doors burst open and Belle and Rory glided in, each with their own princess dresses, waving at the cheering crowd below.
"I think Belle is stoned," Rory announced as Belle rolled around on the ground, tears streaming down her cheeks.
"Am I?" She giggled hysterically. "Am I? I hope so! Can someone send Cary Gold to my room now please?"
Rory and Emma exchanged bemused looks. "Definitely stoned," Emma snorted. "Let's take her to your room to sleep it off."
