"You're being sneaky," Belle accused with a smile as she set the tea tray down on the shop counter.
Rumplestiltskin smiled back as he watched her pour their tea.
"Always," he agreed as he took his cup. "Don't tell me you're surprised?"
"Oh, I'm not," Belle admitted happily as she raised her own. "I even approve, but it's you, so that's kind of a given."
Rumplestiltskin chuckled.
"Just when our dear Miss Swan is looking for somewhere to live, because Regina has forced her out of Granny's, you decide that it's no longer worth the outlay to mention in the paper which apartments you still have vacant, and the only person she really knows apart from us, Regina, and the Lucases is Mary Margaret Blanchard," Belle dissected admiringly. "Her mother. You old softy, you," she teased softly.
Rumplestiltskin raised a single eyebrow at her.
Belle pertly pressed her lips together and drew her hand across in the classic zipper motion, pretended to lock the corner, and tossed the invisible key over her shoulder.
Rumplestiltskin smiled and nodded in approval.
Belle couldn't help but giggle slightly over the secret that she kept for her master. Gently, she blew on the hot brew in her cup, and took a sip.
The peace and quiet of the pawnshop was broken by the gentle strains of the opening title music of the old BBC television series version of Pride and Prejudice. The generic message-tone on Belle's cellphone.
"You'd better get that," Rumplestiltskin advised with a smirk and lifted his teacup to his lips.
Belle sighed and set her own cup back on the tea tray.
The text was from one of the hospital staff. One that was getting a small bonus in their pay from Mr Gold for keeping him updated on everything that happened in that building – of course, all information filtered through Miss French, so that Gold wasn't bothered constantly with pedestrian matters. That was part of what he paid her for, and the various informants were more comfortable passing messages to her than to him.
John Doe awake and stumbling his way out of the building right now. The glowing little screen read.
"Charming's awake," Belle reported, and traded her phone for her teacup once more.
"The curse is weakening," Rumplestiltskin noted with an approving nod. "Of course, when it comes to Snow White and her prince, Regina will have been excessively thorough."
Belle hummed her agreement, and wrinkled her nose. "It's going to be pure soap-opera around here for a while, I just know it," she complained lightly.
Rumplestiltskin chuckled that soft, husky chuckle that had become his since the curse had brought them to this land without magic. The high giggle of the Dark One was long gone. It had the same effect on Belle though: a warm fluttering through her that made her want to join in with her master's laughter.
"And what do you know about soap-opera?" Rumplestiltskin asked.
"I know Widow Lucas watches The Bold and the Beautiful on a small television in a corner of her diner, and records it when it's too busy for her to take the time out to watch," Belle answered with a smile. "I sometimes catch a bit when I'm coming or going."
"Ah," Rumplestiltskin said. Then frowned. "Widow Lucas? Really?" he asked.
Belle laughed at his stupefied expression. "Really," she confirmed.
~oOo~
It was late. Well, it was dark, anyway. Belle had gone on ahead to start dinner while he locked up the shop for the night. He'd enjoy the night air on his walk home, and if he dawdled too much, then Belle would come with the car for him.
Leaving the shop would also give that lurking personage the opportunity they had been waiting for, and then he could find out just what they were after. He certainly had plenty of valuables in his shop, and there were just as many people in Storybrooke who were quietly (and in some cases even unknowingly) desperate to reclaim said valuables.
The question was: whose desperation had driven them to foolishness first?
At the soft sound of breaking glass, Rumplestiltskin about-faced and went back to his shop. His burglar was considerate enough, he supposed, to have only broken one of the little windows in his door, and that nearest to the latch so that they could let themselves in through the door. But who was it?
He entered silently. There was a trick to opening the door without the bell sounding.
"Ashley," he registered when his eyes had adjusted to the dim light of his shut-down shop. "What are you doing?" he asked calmly as he began to round the counter.
The girl screwed up her face in determination. "Changing my life," she declared, and raised a small canister – the contents of which she sprayed into his face.
"Argh!" he exclaimed as the substance, whatever it was, burned his eyes and skin. Reflexively, he raised both of his hands to his face – the action of course caused him to drop his cane, which meant he hadn't any extra support to take any weight off his bad leg (and damn the limp for returning when they came to this land) which in turn caused him more pain. He crashed into the cabinet behind him first, then fell forward.
His head connected with a very fine chess set, as well as the counter it sat on, which caused him to twist on his way down, at which point the back of his head connected solidly with the hardwood floor, and the world went dark.
When the world began to swim slowly back into focus, the first thing that came to him was the feeling of a pillow beneath his head that was warm and firm, but also just the right amount of soft to be perfectly comfortable. There was also a cool cloth on his forehead, delicate fingers tracing through his hair, and the solid wood of the floor beneath the rest of his body. There was a voice, familiar, quietly begging him to wake up.
With a grimace, he forced his eyes open. Belle was hovering over him. Judging from her position relative to his own, Rumplestiltskin quickly realised that the pillow beneath his head was actually her lap.
"Belle," he said softly, calling her attention to his wakened state.
"Blessed darkness, you're awake!" Belle exclaimed, relieved, though she made no movements to alter their current arrangement. Well, she removed the cloth from his head and replaced it with a fresh one, but nothing else. "What happened?"
"Cinderella's desire to keep her baby has finally bled over into Ashley, I believe," Rumplestiltskin answered a little hoarsely.
"She went to the hospital on a false alarm last night," Belle recalled. "And spoke with Emma earlier today."
"That would have sparked it," Rumplestiltskin confirmed.
"It's too late to call the sheriff's office now," Belle noted, "and tomorrow is Saturday."
"Graham will be busy with Regina all day, poor fellow," Rumplestiltskin agreed. "We can ask Miss Swan, I think. She made her living out of finding people, after all. She can find Ashley for us."
"I could find Ashley," Belle pointed out. Then sighed and ran her fingers through her master's soft auburn hair. "But I would much rather make sure you're alright," she confessed, "and I know that your plans have had to change since you made that deal."
"It is past time that I properly introduced myself to the Saviour anyway," Rumplestiltskin decided softly.
Belle sighed. "Do you think you'll be alright to stand?" she asked. "I brought the car, since you were late for dinner."
"It's not burning in the oven, I hope?" Rumplestiltskin checked.
Belle shook her head. "Oven's off. Dinner's probably cold by now actually, but I can put it in the microwave," she answered.
"While I have no desire to spend the night on the floor, I think I'll probably be staying here at the shop through the night," he said apologetically.
"You'll do no such thing," Belle objected.
"Belle, the shop isn't secure, and I'll need to get a photo from the security footage of Ashley for Miss Swan anyway," Rumplestiltskin pointed out gently.
Belle sighed, clearly unhappy. "And you can't sleep for the next twelve hours in case you have a concussion," she added. "Fine. I'll bring our dinner here, as well as necessities for the morning, and I'll stay up with you."
"Belle..."
"No argument!" she snapped. "You're not the invulnerable Dark One any more," she reminded him, and a glassy, tearful sheen appeared over her eyes. "You're human, and fragile, and you don't have magic right now. I was so scared for you when I came in here and saw you on the floor," she admitted.
Rumplestiltskin knew he needed to offer comfort and reassurance in the face of her worry and fear, and he raised a hand to cup her cheek. "Shh," he soothed. "I'm not going anywhere," he promised softly. "Not yet. The Seer promised me that I would find my son, after all. Can't do that if I'm dead, now can I?"
Belle sniffed and nuzzled into the hand on her cheek. "No, you can't," she agreed. "Master, when you bring magic to this land... I am going to start practising in earnest," she informed him resolutely.
"Belle?" Rumplestiltskin asked, confused and a little bit concerned – he would later put the confusion down to the concussion. He would simply deny the concern to himself, and anybody else who asked.
"I read every single one of the books you had on magic," she pointed out. "Thoroughly. I learned everything, whether you intended for me to learn or not. I know all of how it works, and I know that magic is something that anybody can learn how to do, if they're determined enough."
"Some people are more naturally gifted," Rumplestiltskin countered with a hint of a smile. "Emma will be, for example."
"Emma is the product of True Love," Belle said wryly. "Nothing in all the realms is more powerful than True Love. I was doing magic back home in the Dark Castle, so I know that I have the capability. I never tried to perform anything big before, just little things that didn't have great cost, but I'm sure I could manage." Belle sighed then. "Alright, let's get off the floor."
Rumplestiltskin smiled ruefully. "I suppose that means I have to give up my pillow," he quipped.
Belle smiled back, and bent.
Rich, dark curls fell about them, an extra curtain of privacy in an empty shop in the middle of the night, and soft lips were tenderly pressed to Rumplestiltskin's brow.
"Only for now," she whispered to him when she drew back.
~oOo~
Belle stood one step back and to the right of Rumplestiltskin when he stopped in front of the green-painted side of Miss Blanchard's apartment door, and politely knocked. It wasn't a long wait before the school teacher answered. The expression of muted terror on her face was mildly entertaining.
"Miss Blanchard," Rumplestiltskin greeted. "Is Miss Swan here?" he enquired.
The terror on Mary Margaret's face shifted into confusion, and she turned wordlessly to someone beyond the door frame.
The blonde they'd come to speak to came into sight and pulled the door back further so that she had an unimpeded view of the pair.
"Hi, my name's Mr Gold," Rumplestiltskin presented himself, and extended a hand to her. "We met briefly on your arrival?" he offered.
"I remember," Emma replied as she shook his hand.
"Good," Rumplestiltskin said. "I've a proposition for you, Miss Swan," he continued as he retracted his hand. "I need your help. I'm looking for someone."
Mary Margaret, arms folded, made a thoughtful 'uh-huh' motion silently, and her gaze darted passed Rumplestiltskin to Belle.
Emma's gaze did a full run around. She took in Mary Margaret's reaction, looked over at Belle, and then to Rumplestiltskin again. "Really?" she questioned, surprised. "Um..."
Neither Rumplestiltskin or Belle continued, but rather, both of them shifted their gazes briefly to Mary Margaret.
"You know what? I'm going to go... jump in the bath," she declared as she recognised that they didn't want her present for the conversation, and scurried away.
"I have a photo," Rumplestiltskin offered to Emma once the school teacher was gone, and held a hand out to Belle.
From her jacket, she removed the picture she'd captured from the shop security footage and printed off. Belle passed it to her master, and he passed it on to Emma.
Emma accepted the picture and stepped back from the door in that manner that was recognised in most every western household as a silent invitation to enter.
"Her name is Ashley Boyd," Rumplestiltskin started. "And that picture was taken when she burgled my shop last night."
"Why don't you just go to the police?" Emma asked flatly as she stared at the picture.
"Because," Rumplestiltskin said, "she's a confused young woman. She's pregnant, alone and scared. I don't want to ruin this young girl's life," he said sincerely.
"There's also the fact that it's Saturday," Belle joined in. "Graham's all the police force we've got in Storybrooke, and on Saturdays, Regina has him quite literally by the balls. He'd be glad of any reprieve, but Regina would be even less pleasant than usual if her, now what does she call it again? Ah yes, 'Saturday City Council Meeting', was interrupted."
Emma's expression of incredulous horror was quite rewarding.
"It's a small town, Miss Swan," Rumplestiltskin reminded her with an amused smile. "And I make knowing everything that's going on in it my business, however unpleasant some of that knowledge may be."
"Right," Emma agreed cautiously. "When did you see her last?" she asked, bringing the conversation back onto why they were actually there as she fiddled with the photo in her hands.
"Last night, when she was in my shop," Rumplestiltskin said. "It's how I got this," he added, and drew back some of his hair from the injury to his temple that Belle had so lovingly tended to through the night.
Emma's eyebrows shot up in surprise.
"It's so unlike her," Rumplestiltskin admitted, his expression one of concern for the girl as he let his hair fall back into place over the injury. "She was quite wound up, rambling on about changing her life. I've no idea what got into her."
A disquieted flash of guilt passed across Emma's features. Bingo. The Saviour strikes again. Ella had been a pathetic little girl back in the Enchanted Forest, but with just a little encouragement she'd grown one heck of a spine. It seemed that Emma had brought that out in Ashley as well.
"And she's been all over the place with hormones, so that's saying something," Belle quipped.
"Please excuse Miss French," Rumplestiltskin requested of Emma. "She's rather protective of me, but is friends with Miss Boyd as well. The whole situation has her very upset."
"Breaking and entering, assault, burglary," Belle listed off unhappily. "Just left him lying on the floor of the shop, unconscious and with a bleeding head injury. Lucky I found him – and she's due any bloody day!"
"Miss Swan, please help me find her," Rumplestiltskin requested as he waved Belle down, equal parts calm and concerned, which rather countered Belle's somewhat snappish worry. "My only other choice would be the police -"
Belle coughed pointedly.
"I keep you busy enough without sending you off chasing after pregnant thieves, especially since you refuse to let me out of your sight right now, in case I take a turn," Rumplestiltskin scolded her softly. "Miss Swan, I don't think anybody wants to see that baby born either while she's on the run or in jail, now do they?" he asked.
"No," Emma agreed at once. "Of course not."
"So you'll help me then?" Rumplestiltskin pressed.
"I will help her," Emma stated.
Belle and Rumplestiltskin both smiled. Smart woman. How smart though, well, that was still to be determined, but for now she was intelligent enough to amend exactly who, in this situation, she was helping.
"Grand," Rumplestiltskin declared softly, completely content with the way this deal had worked out.
Then the apartment door opened.
"Hey Emma I was thinking we -" Henry said as he entered. Then he came into view past the door, saw Rumplestiltskin and Belle, and stopped short. Frozen in place and suddenly without voice and with a great many nerves.
"Hey Henry," Rumplestiltskin greeted with a genuinely warm smile. "How're you?"
"...Okay?" the boy offered nervously, and gave a smile that wasn't really genuine, but still looked so much like his grandfather's.
It was a wonder no one else had spotted the likeness before.
Rumplestiltskin was a little saddened to see how nervous he made the boy, especially when they'd hardly interacted before.
"Good," he decided, and gave the lad as warm a smile as he could, but decided that Henry's arrival was probably his cue to leave. "Good luck, Miss Swan," he bid. "Miss French, we have an inventory to catalogue," he summoned as he headed for the door.
"We're fairly sure we know what Ashley broke in for," Belle confided to Emma quickly, "and all her action were caught on the security cameras, but she might have taken more than just what she was looking for from the safe she broke into, opportunity and all. And the safe door opened the wrong way for us to see from the cameras."
Emma nodded in unhappy understanding.
Rumplestiltskin waited in the hall as Belle closed the door behind herself.
"I think that went well," he decided as they headed towards the building's exit.
~oOo~
"She's taken Ruby's car, heading for Boston," Belle reported when she returned to the shop with her employer's BLT. "Emma's already gone after her. And Ruby wasn't happy to see me."
Rumplestiltskin winced. "I'm sorry for the position you're in," he apologised.
Belle shook her head. "I made friends with Ashley when I was Elvira, and when Elvira was already your PA at that. I put myself into this situation. I've also figured out who you could give the baby to," she offered. "If Ashley does ultimately decide she's not ready for parenthood."
"Who?" Rumplestiltskin asked instantly.
"Marco," Belle supplied with a small smile. "His memories have himself and his 'late' wife -" and by that, she meant a wife created in false memories, "- trying for a long time. No joy. I'm sure he would welcome Ashley into his very little family as well, if he agreed to accept the child."
Rumplestiltskin nodded thoughtfully. "If she surrenders the child, which is unlikely given her latest actions, then that's what we'll do," he agreed. "In the mean time, I'm going to have my lunch, and then we'll go over to the hospital."
Belle nodded in understanding.
~oOo~
The slow, meandering walk to the hospital was quiet. It was a fine day of few clouds and mild weather. The perfect day to go for a walk. There was also no hurry, since it was entirely possible for a labour to last hours, and hanging about in the waiting room wasn't something either of them cared for. As Rumplestiltskin and Belle entered the building, they saw one of the doctors approach a pacing Emma.
"Miss Swan?" the doctor called.
Emma stopped her pacing, and Henry turned in his seat to give the doctor his attention as well.
"The baby is a healthy six-pound girl," the doctor pronounced. "And the mother is doing fine," she assured with a smile before she turned away. She had duties to attend to, after all. Delivering good news like that only took up a very small portion of her day.
"What lovely news," Rumplestiltskin declared softly, and the smile that had been growing on Emma's face fell away completely at the sound of his voice. "Excellent work, Miss Swan," he praised. "I believe I owe you a cheque for finding Miss Boyd for me. And my merchandise, of course."
"You sick -" Emma caught herself when Belle coughed softly and glanced pointedly at Henry. "- old man," she substituted. "What kind of business are you running?"
Rumplestiltskin smiled a little at that. "You're referring to the arrangement that the infant's paternal grandfather set up for Miss Boyd with me," he stated.
"You're damn right I am," Emma said softly, lowly, as she took a few measured steps closer to him and away from Henry. "How is a baby your merchandise?" she demanded.
"That was a quip. Miss Swan, Storybrooke has neither a social services office, nor an adoption agency," Rumplestiltskin offered, his voice just as low as Emma's. "I... approximate those roles here."
"You're the Godfather, huh?" Emma grumbled.
Rumplestiltskin smiled a smile that showed off his gold tooth. He thought that was a rather nice addition to his smile in this land. If Regina survived the mob that would inevitably form once the curse broke, then he might remember to thank her for it. He doubted it though.
"Why didn't you tell me her baby was your 'merchandise'?" Emma demanded lowly.
"Because at the time, you didn't need to know," Rumplestiltskin answered reasonably.
"Really? Or did you think I wouldn't take the job?" Emma questioned, her blue gaze sharp and fixed on the well-dressed figure of Mr Gold.
"On the contrary," Rumplestiltskin disagreed lightly. "If anyone could understand the reasons behind giving up a baby, I would assume it would be you. Miss Boyd is in a poor situation for raising a child, and there are childless people, wanting one, who are well situated. In exchange for more than enough money to get her life back on track, I get to pass Miss Boyd's child on to a far more stable home," he explained, his words calmly spoken in a measured and reasonable tone. "It does make sense."
"Except that Ashley wants to keep her baby," Emma pointed out tersely. "You're not getting that kid."
"Unfortunately, though the deal was arranged by a third party, Miss Boyd still signed it," Rumplestiltskin countered, and his pleasant smile slipped into a measured grimace. "We have a contract. My contracts are always honoured. I have a reputation to uphold, after all. If it is not, then I am going to have to involve the police. If the police get involved, then that baby is going to end up in the system," he reminded her. "And that would be a pity," he added with a commiserating, unhappy expression – one that, in this instance, masked genuine reluctance to go down that particular path. "You didn't enjoy your time in the system, did you, Miss Swan?" he reminded softly.
"It's not going to happen," Emma asserted darkly.
Rumplestiltskin smiled. "I like your confidence. Charming," he said, and to anybody who didn't know the context, it was merely a compliment. To those (very few) who did, then it was a subtle quip on how alike she was to her father in that moment. "But all I have to do is press charges. She did, after all, break into my shop."
"Assault and burglary," Belle muttered unhappily.
"Miss Boyd can hardly make another break for Boston in her current condition," Rumplestiltskin pointed out frankly.
"Let me guess," Emma requested. "She broke into your shop to steal the contract."
"She did take a legal document from a safe in my shop, and is at least to be commended that she didn't take anything else," Rumplestiltskin agreed with a small, almost fond smile. They had security footage showing that the only thing Ashley took was his keys from his belt once she'd downed him, and checking the contents of the raided safe proved that she had only taken her contract from the vault in the shop. She'd left the keys behind on the counter, and hadn't even raided the cash register, much as she could have used the money.
Of course, there was also the copy of the contract that Rumplestiltskin kept in a locked filing cabinet in his legal office, as well as the one in the office safe at his house as well...
"You know that no jury in the world will put a woman in jail whose only reason for breaking and entering was to keep her child," Emma declared.
"Actually," Belle corrected, "there are plenty of countries where she'd already have had her hands chopped off, at least, regardless of her reasons why or her condition."
Emma winced at the comment.
"Miss French is almost excessively well-read," Rumplestiltskin explained wryly.
"Still, I'm willing to roll the dice that contract doesn't stand up in court here. Are you?" she questioned pointedly. "Not to mention what might come out about you in the process," she added, almost dangerously. "Somehow, I suspect, there is more to you than a simple pawn broker. You really want to start that fight?" she asked.
Rumplestiltskin smiled, an appreciative glint in his eye. "I like you, Miss Swan," he decided.
Emma's answering smile was not large, but it was slightly victorious.
"You're not afraid of me," Rumplestiltskin noted, "and there's precious few in these parts who can honestly claim that. As such, I'd like to have you on my side."
"So she can keep the baby?" Emma asked at once.
"Not so fast," Rumplestiltskin warned. "There's still the matter of my agreement with Miss Boyd, which I assure you is entirely legal, above-board, and beyond reproach. I am the best lawyer in this little town, after all. You're quite right when you say there's more to me than a simple pawn broker, Miss Swan."
"So tear it up," Emma suggested at once.
"That's not what I do," Rumplestiltskin replied, and as serious as he was, a hint of his old theatrical-ness seeped through. "You see, contracts," he smirked, "deals," he emphasised, "they're the very foundation of all civilised existence, and as I said earlier, I have a reputation to uphold. So, I put it to you now," he offered. "If you want Miss Boyd to keep that baby, are you willing to make a deal with me?" he asked.
"What do you want?" Emma queried cautiously.
"Oh, I don't know just yet," Rumplestiltskin admitted with a shrewd smile. "You'll owe me a favour," he suggested.
Emma leant in close. "Deal," she agreed lowly.
"Grand," Rumplestiltskin declared. "Now... ah yes. I asked you to find Miss Boyd, and you did. Alteration of my agreement with her does not change that I owe you a cheque for services rendered," he stated firmly. He would not be moved on this – he had a reputation of honouring all his deals. Not just the ones that made him out to be the bad guy.
Belle stepped up to his side and opened the briefcase she was carrying for him.
Rumplestiltskin picked out his chequebook and a pen, and signed off on the figure he'd already filled in.
"There," he said as he tore out the cheque, and held the slip out to the blonde. "All nice and tidy. And yes, Miss French, you may visit your friend and tell her the news. The terrible tension has been resolved. I'll even still uphold my end and pay her the previously agreed amount, which should be most helpful to her, since she'll have a baby draining her meagre finances now."
Belle smiled gratefully, wrapped both of her hands around one of his – she could hardly hug him or press a kiss to his cheek in such a public area – gave a quick squeeze, then hurried off to see Ashley.
~oOo~
Ashley sucked in a frightened breath and held her baby a bit closer when Belle walked into her room.
"Elle," she said, and her big blue eyes were frightened. "You can't take her, please Elle. Please don't take my baby," Ashley alternately insisted and begged.
Belle shook her head. "I'm not here to take her," she assured her friend. She moved to sit down on the chair that was by Ashley's bed. "You're really lucky, you know? Mr Gold isn't going to press any charges for your having broken into his shop and assaulting him."
Ashley's eyes went big. It was clear that she hadn't thought of that set of potential consequences to her actions.
Belle ploughed on, pretending not to notice the look of fear on the younger woman's face.
"He's also agreed to give up his claim to your child," Belle continued.
Ashley visibly relaxed.
"And he's still going to pay you the previously agreed amount, even though he's not getting anything from you in exchange," Belle declared.
Ashley's jaw dropped and her eyes very nearly popped out of her head they went so wide.
"What? How did -? I don't understand," Ashley spluttered.
Belle smiled. "Mr Gold is... more complicated than anybody really gives credit for," she explained softly. She couldn't say he was nicer than he let on. That was her secret, and she wasn't sharing it with anybody who wasn't smart enough to figure it out for themselves. Not yet. "Miss Swan made a deal with him so you get to keep your baby girl, while she owes him a favour, unspecified," she added honestly. "I think the rest of it, you getting the money anyway, was a favour to me, but don't quote me on that. Now, what's this little princess's name?" Belle asked eagerly and reached out to gently stroke one new-born-soft cheek.
"Alexandra," Ashley whispered tenderly in answer. "Her name's Alexandra. Am I... is Mr Gold really still going to...?" she couldn't seem to get the question out in full.
Belle knew what Ashley was asking though, so she didn't need to. Belle nodded.
"He really is," she said with a smile.
"Thank you," Ashley said with a great, loud, snotty sniff.
"Yeah, well, baby bills will probably eat through that payment as fast as you can sneeze," Belle pointed out wryly.
Ashley laughed wetly – she'd started crying. "Every little bit helps," she replied happily.
Belle smiled briefly. "I've got to go," she apologised as she stood from the chair. "I'll see you around Ashley."
Ashley smiled. "Thank you," she said again.
Emma and Henry entered the room just as Belle was leaving it.
"What's the wee one's name?" Rumplestiltskin asked Belle when she rejoined him and they were headed out of the hospital.
"Alexandra," Belle answered.
Rumplestiltskin considered that. "The same one that Prince Thomas chose back in the Enchanted Forest. I recall that Cinderella said it wasn't a name so much as a prison sentence. I'd make comment, but I know I'm really in no position to pass judgement on a name," he decided.
Belle giggled.
~oOo~
"Belle, I need you to go over my property holdings," Rumplestiltskin requested when the whole shop shook, completely out of the blue.
"No, you need me to pick everything up off the floor," Belle countered. "You're not doing it with that leg of yours."
Rumplestiltskin winced. "You're right," he agreed. "I'll head into the firm office and check over the property listings."
"Why do you need to check your holdings anyway?" Belle asked, confused, as she removed her shoes for greater ease while scrambling around on the floor.
"Because Maine isn't on a fault line, but there is a honeycomb old mines near the town," Rumplestiltskin explained as he hobbled his way into the office.
"Mines?" Belle repeated thoughtfully. "The curse brought the old fairy-dust mines?" she asked, nearly incredulous, when she realised just what they must be.
"It was a very comprehensive curse," Rumplestiltskin pointed out calmly, and though Belle couldn't see him once they were in separate part of the building, she just knew he was wearing such an inscrutable expression on his face as to not give away if he was proud or displeased that the mines had been brought along with so much else. "They've been 'abandoned' for as long as Storybrooke has existed, but not an issue until the curse began to weaken."
"They were frozen in time with everything and everyone else," Belle recognised as she collected up chess pieces from the floor – checking them over for any possible damage as she did.
"That's right. Now I need to see if I've got the title deeds for them," Rumplestiltskin grumbled, just audible over the slide of drawers and the rustle of many papers. "I do not enjoy the haziness the curse caused in my memory, nor do I relish the prospect of being held accountable if someone decides to explore those mines and gets themselves hurt."
"It will be filed with the civil sites, if you have anything to do with it," Belle called back to him. "Second drawer of the green filing cabinet."
The rattle of one drawer closing, and another being pulled open, was her answer.
"There's a plan of the tunnels and shafts, but no certificate of ownership," Rumplestiltskin said after a few moments of quiet searching, and he sounded mildly confused.
"Then you don't own it," Belle replied as she set the wooden puppets that had once been Geppetto's parents back in their places. "I was probably just feeling very comprehensive one day, or maybe you expressed an interest. I don't remember either."
"The mines extend out past the town boundaries," Rumplestiltskin declared softly as he walked back into the main area of the shop, the dossier on the mines held open in one hand. "They also connect to the library basement."
Belle frowned. "The library basement?" she repeated, surprised and confused. "I don't think I knew that the library had a basement."
Rumplestiltskin chuckled. "And yet, it is included in the building plans that you have on file," he quipped light-heartedly.
Belle's frown deepened, just a little, as she thought back, searching through the hazy memories of her life as Elvira French, forcing them to clarify as she sought out one specific detail. "Huh, I did know that," she realised softly. "Tea?"
"That sounds grand, dear."
~oOo~
"The soap opera's off to a flying start," Belle reported. She – and not Mr Gold – had been invited to a party that Kathryn Nolan had thrown to celebrate her husband's release from the hospital. A party at which, incidentally, she had learned that Emma had been made deputy sheriff at roughly the same time as the mine-quake.
"Please spare me," Rumplestiltskin requested as he spun simple woollen yarn at the wheel he'd had Belle move into the living room one evening. "I already helped them find their True Love once. Until and unless Regina sets one of them up for the murder of the inconvenient wife, I'm staying well clear of the pair this time."
Belle smirked. "Uh-huh, this from the man who took such delight in giving everybody exactly what they wanted?" she teased. "And claiming such interesting prices in return?"
Rumplestiltskin smiled fondly in remembrance, halted the wheel, and set down the wool he'd been spinning. He turned to her, and he stopped short. There was a glint about Belle's neck...
Belle looked down at herself to see what had caught her master's interest, and she was smiling when she lifted her gaze once more.
"I found it when I was tidying up, after the mess caused by the mine-quake," she said. "It's truly remarkable, the things that you have hidden away behind some of those pictures on the walls. I never realised how many cubby-holes there were about the place."
Rumplestiltskin's eyes jerked up from the glitter about Belle's throat to look her in the eye again.
"I suppose you took inventory," he quipped hoarsely.
Belle's smile grew wider. "Of course I did," she agreed. "Nothing magic got put in your ledgers though. Those are in a simple document on my laptop in coded short-hand. No one else will know what's where, I promise."
"Belle, that..." Rumplestiltskin hesitated as he reached out to touch the amulet that hung from a simple gold thread at her neck. He stopped himself inches away from it.
"It still has magic in it," Belle supplied. "It still works, though maybe not quite as well. Even in a land without magic, this is so thoroughly spelled that the magic in it survived here for twenty-eight years."
"You don't need to wear that Belle," Rumplestiltskin stated, and lowered his hand. "You shouldn't. It's a collar to keep you tied to a monster."
Belle rolled her eyes and stepped around Rumplestiltskin so that she could sit and face him.
"Call me crazy, but I'm pretty sure we had this conversation, more than once, even," she reminded him. "I can take it off if I want to. Nothing is stopping me from doing so – except for my own desire to never be without it. Besides, I find that I am now rather looking forward to the expressions on peoples faces when I tell them you gave me such a beautiful necklace," she added with a cheeky, mischievous little smile.
That, at least, startled a "Ha!" out of Rumplestiltskin, and his smile was loving as he looked at her.
"But the lingering question is, really, do you want Charming to remember his life? Or David Nolan's life?" Belle asked with concern.
"David Nolan's," Rumplestiltskin answered at once. "Or he won't know how to function in this world properly when the curse is broken. It's unfortunate for Miss Blanchard in the interim, but it is what it is."
"She's still trying to keep her distance," Belle pointed out. "He's the one pushing at the moment. I'll suggest he comes by the shop some time. Everybody was telling him all through the party that the smallest thing could trigger his memories, and there really is no telling if something that Kathryn sold us since – or that he supposedly sold us before he lost his memory – might not do the trick," she offered.
"Belle, have I ever told you just how utterly perfect you are?" Rum asked her with an almost coy smile.
Belle smiled back at once, but was quick to bite down on her bottom lip and drop her eyes. "No," she confessed softly.
"Well, then I'm telling you now. You're completely, totally, and utterly perfect," he said in an earnest, sincere whisper. He caught up one of Belle's hands in his, and softly nuzzled her palm, just relishing in her touch. Any touch at all to his person being something he so often thought himself utterly unworthy of.
Belle blushed. "You've always been perfect," she whispered back. "I'd, uh, I'm going to call Kathryn. It's late, but she's probably still up, cleaning after the party."
"Yes, the sooner David Nolan fully asserts himself, the less it will hurt Miss Blanchard," Rumplestiltskin agreed with that trickster's smirk of his, and released his hold on Belle's hand.
