A/N: Everyone's been so lovely about this fic, and it's just awesome, thank you so much! Anyway, on with the tale. When we last left them, Belle had gone over to Gold's house and successfully persuaded him to give her a bunch of orgasms. He also gave her his name, which is something of a big deal for him. There is, alas, no smut in this chapter, only the aftermath.
Samoyedjack prompted: "the teachers lounge is a place of inappropriate conversations. Gold does not like hearing other teachers talk about Belle/students that way."
Gold looked down at Belle as he caught his breath, the bliss fading from him. She lay there with her eyes closed, a contented grin on her face, her fingers stroking gently through his hair. He could feel himself softening inside her, and he reached down to grip the condom as he pulled out of her. Her eyes flickered open as he pushed himself up off the warm softness of her body, his breath still coming hard, a dry heat at the back of his throat. He turned to sit on the edge of the bed and she rolled over onto her front, watching him sleepily through half-closed eyes.
"I'll - um…" He gestured vaguely at the door, and she smiled again, so he picked up his cane and made his way to the bathroom to dispose of the condom. He decided to take a quick shower, soaping himself thoroughly, which made him feel more alert but regrettably washed the scent of Belle from his skin. Turning his face up to the water, he tried to empty his mind of the anxious thoughts and crippling guilt that was making his heart clench. He needed to think of a plan, but for tonight he was too tired, and it appeared that when it came to Belle, all decisions were made with his bloody cock rather than his brain.
After giving himself an invigorating blast of cold water, which made his skin tingle, he got out, towelling off. He wrapped the towel around his waist and faced the mirror, picking up a brush and working out the few tangles in his hair from where Belle had buried her fingers in it. A brief vision flashed through his head, Belle beneath him, hands twisted in his hair, a moan pulled from her as he thrust into her, and he shook his head, trying to make the memory fade before he had to go back in the bedroom. He brushed his hair back from his face so that it was plastered to his skull, working steadily from left to right, the water running in thin trails down the back of his neck and into the hollow of his spine. The bristles left little tramlines in his hair, the grey at his temples more pronounced, and he frowned at himself, dropping the brush and leaning on the sink with damp hands as he surveyed his reflection with a critical eye. The lights in the bathroom were not kind, picking out the lines around his eyes and mouth, the silvery strands in his hair, and he thought about the girl in his bed, her pale beauty and perfect skin and the way she melted in his arms. His own eyes stared back at him, dark and accusing, and his lip curled a little.
"You're a fucking idiot!" he said disgustedly, and turned his back on his reflection.
When he went back into the bedroom, she was asleep on her belly, her arms around one of his pillows. He ran his eyes slowly down the sweeping curve of her back, his gaze lingering on the pale mounds of her buttocks before he picked up the silk throw from the end of the bed and laid it gently over her. She twitched, sighing slightly, and his lips quirked in a smile as she nuzzled the pillow in her sleep.
Pulling on his pants and picking up his empty wineglass, he went downstairs. He couldn't let her sleep too long, of course, but the poor girl was probably exhausted from caring for her father, Astrid's help notwithstanding. He put on the kettle for some tea, pouring himself another glass of wine while he waited for it to boil, and scooped dried chamomile flowers into the pot. Sighing to himself, he leaned back against the work surface and took a drink of wine. It was rich and dark, a slight hint of smooth chocolate amongst the black cherries and spice, and he let his head roll back as its warmth sank down his throat. His mind was working furiously, trying to think of a way out of this mess. Idiot didn't begin to cover it. He was in deep, deep shit, and what was worse he had dragged her in with him. He had been determined to be strong, to push her away for her own sake, and all it had taken was a flash of her blue eyes, a soft plea from her beautiful mouth, and he had taken her to bed and fucked her into a frenzy like the pervert he was. The worst of it was he wanted nothing more than to go upstairs, wake her up and do it all again.
He pulled a face, in equal measure disgusted with himself and aroused by the thought of it. The air in the room was cool, the heating long since off, and he shivered a little, wet hair chilling him more than usual. The kettle started to boil, and he put down his glass, getting out a cup and saucer for her and setting everything on a tray before pouring the boiling water into the teapot.
Carrying the tray upstairs in one arm was difficult, but he managed to do it without spilling anything, and he set the tray down on the dresser carefully, picking up his wineglass again and turning to the bed. Belle was still sleeping, the corners of her mouth turned slightly upwards, the lamplight warm on her smooth cheeks. She looked so peaceful, so happy and so terribly young, and he felt a sudden, unexpected surge of protectiveness. He took a swallow of wine, his mouth twisting. She needed protecting alright, but not by him. He was the very opposite of her protector. He was her defiler.
Scowling, he set the glass down with rather more force than was necessary, wiping his mouth with the back of a hand that shook slightly. She needed to go.
He crossed to the bed, reaching out to her before hesitating an inch or so away from her shoulder, and then gently ran a finger down her small nose. Belle made a tiny noise like a cat, inhaling deeply before opening her eyes, and he couldn't help smiling. Her eyes were a little unfocused at first, but then she let them trail up his body, fixing her gaze on his, and grinned.
"Hey," she said sleepily. "What time is it?"
"It's gone nine-thirty," he said, and her eyes widened.
"Crap!" She rolled onto her back, pushing herself up on her hands. "Astrid's only there until ten, I have to get back!"
She threw the silk throw aside and leapt out of bed, completely unconcerned by her nakedness, and started snatching up her clothes and pulling them on.
"At least have some tea," he offered. "I could take you home in the car."
Belle threw a glance over her shoulder as she straightened her dress. "And how would that look? As far as my dad knows I went to the pharmacy for his pills and - um - then for a walk to clear my head, I guess."
He sighed. God, they couldn't keep this up!
"Belle…" he began, and she whirled on him with a frown.
"Don't," she said firmly, lifting a hand, fingers splaying. "Don't - don't say anything. Don't spoil it."
He sighed again, pinching the bridge of his nose and squeezing his eyes shut. He could hear her zipping her dress, and when he opened his eyes she was pulling on her shoes.
"I'm sorry, Belle," he said quietly, and she stiffened with her back to him. She slowly turned on the balls of her feet.
"I'm not," she muttered, and reached past him, grabbing her jacket from the back of the chair. She stretched up on her toes to kiss his cheek, and he felt a sudden urge to pull her close and fall back into bed with her.
"Thank you," she whispered, and then she was gone, like smoke, leaving him standing with damp hair and crippling guilt and a pot of chamomile tea he didn't want.
Belle hurried home, glad she was wearing flats, the paper bag containing her father's prescription clutched to her chest. The short nap had revived her, and Gold's touch had made her see stars, so overall she was feeling surprisingly upbeat, despite the pain of what her father was going through. She managed to make it home just before ten, and Astrid looked up anxiously as she entered the bedroom and threw down the bag.
"Sorry!" said Belle, a little breathlessly. "I went for a walk to clear my head. I think it helped."
"Oh, no problem!" said Astrid warmly. "He's just been sleeping. I think he'll be okay until tomorrow. I finished the laundry, and it's all ready to put away."
"You're an angel." Belle ran her hands over her face with a sigh, and Astrid got up, picking up her bag and coat.
"Leroy should be here soon," she said, squeezing Belle's arm. "Same time tomorrow?"
Belle sent her a weary smile and covered the hand with her own. "Thank you, Astrid. I couldn't do this alone."
"Oh, I think you could," said Astrid wisely. "But luckily you don't have to." She pursed her lips, eyeing Belle. "Honey, when was the last time you went out with your friends, had a sleepover, anything?"
"I…" Belle tried to think, biting her lip. "Other than a couple of hours after school? I don't remember. Before Papa got really sick, I guess."
Astrid sniffed and rolled her eyes. "That's what I thought. Listen, if you ever want a night off, you just tell me. I'm happy to take a night shift if you want to go and be a teenager for the evening."
"Oh, I couldn't ask you to do that!" protested Belle, and Astrid giggled.
"Sure you could!" she said happily. "Night shifts pay double, and we could use the money." She looked suddenly shy. "We're trying for a baby. I hear they're expensive."
Belle felt an inexplicable pricking of tears at Astrid's bright, hopeful face. The circle of life. One soul leaves this world, another is born into it. Somehow the thought made her a little less sad.
"Well, thanks for the offer," she said, her voice a little thick with emotion. "I'll bear it in mind."
The honk of a truck horn made them both look around, and Astrid smiled widely.
"There's my Grumpy!" she said fondly, and shrugged on her coat. "Bye, Belle! I'll see you tomorrow!"
Belle followed her downstairs, waving to Leroy, who sent her his usual curt nod. Astrid bounced up to the truck and kissed his whiskery cheek before getting in, and Belle giggled at the look of surprise and adoration on his face. She imagined that he looked that way any time his young wife showed him affection.
Closing the door, she made her way back up the stairs. Her father was still sleeping peacefully, so she decided to take a shower, read for a little while, and get a decent night's sleep. With any luck it would be dreamless.
She slept well, waking early the next morning, and checked in on her father. Moe was stirring, mumbling in his sleep, so Belle went downstairs to make some coffee and poached eggs on toast for their breakfast. She carried it up on a tray, trying to ignore the pleasant ache between her thighs. Noises from the bedroom pulled her attention to her father, and she hurried the last few yards, catching her breath as she saw him half out of bed and grasping for the bedpan.
"Papa, wait!"
She set down the tray, wiping her hands on her thighs and grabbing the bedpan that Astrid had left for him. Moe gazed at her with a pain in his eyes, his gaze a little glassy, and she handed him the pan.
"I'll get your pills," she said, and left him to it, busying herself with the paper bag containing his medication. She pushed two tablets out of the foil-wrapped blister packs, and poured a glass of water. When she turned back, he had finished relieving himself, and she took the bedpan from him and handed over the tablets, watching as he drank them down with the water.
"Back in a second," she said, and went to empty the pan, washing it thoroughly in the sink afterwards. When she got back into the bedroom he was lying back, breathing heavily through his nose, but he opened his eyes as she came close.
"Did you sleep well?" she asked gently, and his jaw tightened.
"Belle," he said, a little hoarsely. "Sweetheart, I - I don't want that man coming here again. I don't want him in our lives, we'll find another way!"
Belle's brow furrowed. "Mr Gold?" she said, puzzled. "But - without his help we'd be sinking, Papa. Astrid's a godsend."
"I know." He winced, trying to push himself up on his pillows, and Belle rushed to help him, taking his weight so that he could use the heels of his hands to lift himself. He turned tired eyes towards her.
"Darling, I saw him," he said patiently. "He's dangerous. He'll hurt you."
"Papa…" said Belle wearily, and Moe hesitated.
"I - I see the way he looks at you," he said uncomfortably. "He's not doing this to be kind, sweetheart. He wants something from you. Something you should never have to give."
Belle could feel herself beginning to redden, and clutched at his hand.
"Papa," she said gently. "Don't think things like that. I know it looks strange, but he hasn't asked me for anything. He says he won't, and I believe him."
"Why would he do this for nothing?" demanded Moe. "It doesn't make any sense! He - he - well, I don't know, exactly, but it can't be good, love!"
Belle shook her head.
"I promise you that Mr Gold hasn't made any - unwelcome advances towards me." She giggled, squeezing his hand. "See? You make me sound like someone out of an Austen novel, or something."
"I don't trust him!" insisted Moe, looking at her pleadingly. "There's darkness in him, sweetheart!"
Belle sighed heavily. "There's darkness in all of us, Papa," she said, and he shook his head.
"Not like this, my girl!" he whispered. "He's evil! I saw it! I don't want him around you!"
"You were hallucinating," said Belle softly. "Doctor Whale said it was the painkillers. Hallucinations are a rare side-effect. That's why I got these new ones. How are they?"
Moe grimaced. "Too early to say," he muttered, and scratched the back of his head. "Hallucinating? I don't know, Belle. I don't need to be hallucinating to see the way he looks at you."
"We need his help," said Belle firmly. "And yes, I wasn't happy when he helped without even asking, but I'm grateful for it now. He says I won't owe him anything, and I believe him."
Moe shifted uncomfortably. "I don't want you feeling - obligated to…"
Belle put her hands on her hips with a frown. "Are you suggesting I'd give Mr Gold a - a…" She struggled, and Moe squirmed a little. "That I'd give myself to him out of gratitude?" she demanded. "Because if you are, then you and I need to have a serious conversation."
Moe held up his hands, alarmed. "No, sweetheart! Of course not! I just...I don't trust him," he trailed off lamely, and Belle sniffed.
"Well, hopefully you trust me," she grumbled.
"Of course!" he said soothingly, and she huffed a little.
"Well, that's all that matters then," she said, and got up off the bed. "I'll handle Mr Gold, Papa. You just concentrate on feeling better."
He gave her a fond, if despairing look, but his eyes were heavy, the painkillers starting to do their work. She plumped his pillows, and he lay back with a sigh as she kissed his cheek.
"Stop worrying about me," she whispered, and his lips quirked.
"Never."
Astrid's help meant that Belle was able to get her homework done with time to spare, and she decided on an early night on Sunday. She had not been sleeping well, and the thought of a full eight hours of undisturbed rest was heavenly. In the end she had nine, having taken a book to bed with her but fallen asleep before she finished the first chapter. She awoke early on Monday morning, and made the most of having extra time by showering and drying her hair, making breakfast for her father and her own lunch to take to school.
Kissing Moe goodbye and promising to be home at lunchtime, she made her way to the diner. The air was cold, frost already on the ground, and she suspected it would be snowing soon. She wore thick tights beneath her short grey dress, a cap-sleeved white shirt beneath it and a dark blue peacoat that kept out the worst of the Maine wind. The breeze snatched at the few strands of her hair that had worked loose from the bun on her head, and she clutched her bag of schoolbooks to her chest, trotting up to the diner and letting the warm, humid air envelop her as she shut the door behind her. She smiled as Ruby and Emma bounced up.
"Hey!" Ruby hugged her, then pulled back with her hands on Belle's shoulders, putting her head to the side. "Did you do something? You look great!"
"Meaning I usually look like crap?" said Belle dryly, at which Ruby stuck out her tongue. "I actually spent time fixing my hair this morning, if that's what you mean."
"No, you look kind of…" Ruby waved a hand, lost for words. "Smug," she finished, and Belle rolled her eyes.
"Like the cat that got the cream," added Emma. "She's right, Bellz. What have you been up to while our backs have been turned?"
"I got a decent night's sleep, that's all!" protested Belle, trying not to blush and failing. "Now, can I get a coffee, or are you gonna both interrogate me some more?"
Ruby and Emma shared a suspicious, if amused, look.
"Interrogation?" suggested Emma, and Ruby nodded fervently.
"I vote interrogation," she agreed, and Belle growled under her breath and stomped over to the counter without them. Emma and Ruby followed her, giggling, and pulled faces at her when she turned to face them with an offended look.
"Chill, honey, we're just kidding," said Emma, giving her a friendly shove with her elbow. "You look great. Let's grab the brownies and get out of here."
Mollified, Belle picked up her coffee and the paper bag that Granny held up with a smile, and the three girls headed off to school, Belle handing around the brownies and licking chocolate from her fingers.
"Phys Ed this afternoon," said Ruby gloomily. Belle sighed. She was not the most coordinated of people, and Phys Ed was usually an exercise in humiliation, but at least she could hide behind Emma and Ruby.
"Great," she said unenthusiastically. "An hour of running around the ball court in the freezing cold with Gaston looking at my ass. Remind me to sprain my ankle at lunch, would you?"
Emma and Ruby chuckled, and Emma took a slurp of her coffee.
"Did you study for the French test?" asked Ruby, biting down into her brownie, and Belle nodded, chewing and swallowing.
"God, that's good! Yeah, I think it should be okay. Mr Lemaire hasn't yelled at anyone for a few weeks, so I guess that means we're improving."
"Ugh!" Emma wrinkled her nose. "I hate that guy! I'm glad we have Phys Ed afterwards. At least I get to hit something."
"It's basketball," said Ruby, and Emma shrugged.
"Your point? Some of the guys need a good punch in the face, if you ask me."
Ruby snorted. "Yeah, if you're gonna punch someone, at least make it Nottingham."
"Sleaze," nodded Emma, then almost jumped into the air, spinning and turning to land in front of them, walking backwards. Belle wondered how she did it without falling or twisting her ankle, as she would have done.
"Oh my God!" said Emma excitedly. "I almost forgot! Did you guys hear? Aurora saw Ashley totalling making out with Nottingham in the Rabbit Hole on Saturday! Can you believe it?"
"Of him?" said Belle flatly. "Definitely."
Ruby nodded. "I thought Ashley had more sense though," she said regretfully. "I mean, banging a teacher?" She shook her head. "That'll end well."
Belle looked around sharply. "Did she..?"
"Oh, I don't know about that," said Emma, taking a sip of her coffee. "Aurora just said he was practically eating her face." She shuddered.
"Maybe it's nothing serious," ventured Belle, and Ruby snorted.
"Yeah, well, of course it's nothing serious for him! The guy has to be twice her age! Fucking pervert!"
Belle hunched her shoulders a little, hiding her face behind her coffee cup as Emma agreed with Ruby. She breathed in the warm scent of the strong coffee, licking the last of the brownie crumbs from her fingers as she took a drink.
"Anyway, never mind about Nottingham," said Ruby dismissively. "I guess we can ask Ashley when we see her. Bellz, I have a favour to ask." She looked at Belle a little guiltily, and Belle's interest was immediately piqued.
"Oh?" she said, a grin curling the corners of her mouth. Ruby looked as though she'd been caught doing something she shouldn't, and it was kind of adorable.
"Yeah, it's - Peter's mom is going away on Saturday," she said uncomfortably. "And - I was wondering if - if it would be okay if I told Granny I was staying at your place Saturday night."
Emma snorted with laughter. "Oh, Rubes! Tired of banging behind dumpsters?"
"We never did it behind a dumpster!" protested Ruby indignantly, as Belle giggled. Ruby turned big, pleading eyes on her.
"Please?" she whined, and Belle rolled her eyes.
"Of course!" she said, leaning into Ruby affectionately as they walked. "You don't have to beg. It's just - what if she calls? I'm a terrible liar."
"I'll have my cell," said Ruby quickly. "I'll leave your cell number with Granny, and if she calls, just say I'm in the bathroom or something, and call me."
Belle sighed, trying to hide her grin.
"I hope he's worth it," she said innocently, and Ruby beamed.
"Definitely getting better. We're gonna try for a mutual orgasm," she said with relish, and Emma and Belle groaned.
Gold walked into the teachers' lounge with a scowl on his face. The weather had changed, becoming cold and damp, with the threat of snow to come, and his leg had been hurting all weekend, robbing him of sleep. He was not in the mood for the exuberance of the students, some of whom were already wearing Halloween masks and jumping out at one another in the corridors. He had snapped at a couple of them, causing wide eyes and stuttering apologies, and he was now in a foul mood.
"Roll on the first of November," he muttered, shutting the door behind him with a sigh and cutting out most of the noise. Jefferson looked up from where he was lounging in one of the battered leatherette chairs, a large book on Expressionism open in his lap. He snapped the book shut.
"Halloween always starts early in Storybrooke," he said. "I guess I should've warned you."
Gold grunted, making his way over to the old hotplate, where a pot of coffee, which seemed to be permanently brewing, was sending out a steady trickle of fragrant steam. The Phys Ed teacher, Keith Nottingham, was leaning back against the wall, mug of coffee in hand, talking to Killian Jones, the janitor.
"Nah, I didn't nail her," he was saying. "How stupid do you think I am?"
It was with great difficulty that Gold refrained from providing a detailed and cutting response. He didn't like the man, but he had no desire to get into an argument about Nottingham's latest conquest. Although to hear him talk, half the women in Storybrooke were desperate to get into his bed. Somehow Gold doubted that was true. He poured himself some coffee, wrinkling his nose at the dark liquid. It smelt stale. Jefferson threw his book aside and stood up, picking up his own empty coffee cup.
"You should probably prepare yourself for a bunch of kids in outfits hassling you for candy," he said. "The teenagers are the worst. You might not want to wear your best suit on Saturday. Eggs and flour probably wouldn't do it much good."
Gold gave him a level look. "I feel confident that the students in this town know that any such assault on my person would mean instant death," he said calmly, and Jefferson laughed a little nervously.
"Gold, you gotta love this holiday!" interrupted Nottingham. "You should see some of the outfits they wear! Sexy devils. Sexy witches. Sexy vampires. Even a sexy nurse or two. Ariel Fisher wore one last year...man!" He groaned, raising his eyes to the ceiling. "She could take my temperature any time!"
"You do know her father runs the animal shelter?" remarked Gold. "She'd probably take it anally." He showed his teeth. "But then, perhaps you're into that."
"Plus, she's seventeen," added Jefferson. "Gross, dude."
"Hey, I can look!" protested Nottingham. "Not like I'd do anything. She's still at school. I know she's off-limits."
"Plus she has that boyfriend of hers looking out for her," added Jones, and Nottingham grunted.
"Yeah, she's not worth fighting over," he agreed.
"Well, thank goodness you don't allow your morals to get in the way of that rampant libido," said Gold dryly, quashing the snide voice inside his head that whispered he was a fucking hypocrite.
"Can't help it if young ladies find us irresistible," said Jones, grinning widely and showing white, even teeth. "I suppose you don't have that worry, do you? More of a problem when you're nearer their age, rather than their fathers'."
Gold pinched the bridge of his nose. The pain in his leg was giving him a headache, and he could cheerfully have smacked both men around the skull with his cane.
"I guess getting them drunk sure helps lower their inhibitions," shrugged Jefferson, and Jones scowled at him.
"There was no proof of that..." he began, and Gold lost patience.
"Don't you have toilets to clean?" he asked coldly. "Do make sure to do under the rims, there's a good lad. I'm sure the 'young ladies' would appreciate the dedication you bring to your work."
Jones glared at him, stomping from the room with a face like thunder, and he turned back to Jefferson with a smirk, pouring him some coffee.
His mood did not improve as the day wore on, and the tenth-graders sat nervously as he yelled at one unfortunate student who had neglected to complete the homework. The yelling made his headache worse, and he limped to the teachers' lounge at four-thirty, curling his lip as he saw that Nottingham and Jones were there again, chatting by the window about some sports game; basketball, it seemed to be, from the conversation that drifted back to him. Jefferson was also there, one leg draped over the arm of the chair while he flicked through a magazine, and little Mr Short was snoozing in an ancient chintz armchair with a battered old book resting face down on his round belly.
"Don't you ever have class?" asked Gold sourly, making himself another coffee. Jefferson looked up.
"I have a break before the after-school club," he said dismissively, and nodded towards the window. "Those two losers were there when I got here."
"Look at them!" Jones was saying. "A couple of years, and they'll be down at the Rabbit Hole."
"That Ruby looks as though she already goes there," remarked Nottingham, and Gold looked up sharply.
"She's dating Peter Wolfe," said Jones dismissively. "The blonde though…"
"Swan?" Nottingham chuckled. "Good luck. She'd kick your ass. I had to pull her off that Gaston kid today after he touched her butt in the warm-up. Poor guy should have worn a box." He shook his head sadly, and Gold grinned to himself. Good for Miss Swan.
"What about the little one?" asked Jones.
"Belle French?" Nottingham made a lascivious slurping noise with his tongue, and all the blood in Gold's body seemed to rush into his head, his pulse pounding in his throat, his breath quickening as fury rose up through him.
"She looks far too sweet for the likes of you," noted Jones, and Nottingham nudged him.
"Yeah, well, you know what they say about the innocent-looking ones," he said. "Given the right encouragement I bet she'd be a dirty little…"
"If I hear one more word out of either of your vile little mouths I won't be held responsible for my actions!" snapped Gold, cutting him off. Both men looked around, alarmed.
"Yeah, Principal Mills doesn't like her teachers perving on the kids," added Jefferson. "Seriously, guys, tone it down, hmm?"
"We're just kidding, Gold," said Nottingham easily. "Don't get your panties in a knot."
"Oh, so you think this is a joke?" asked Gold quietly. "You think the corruption of a minor is something to laugh about, do you? Have you any idea of the damage you could cause?"
"Hey, we were just talking!" protested Nottingham, holding up his hands. "Jesus, Gold, I wasn't being serious! The sheriff would have my balls in a bag if he caught me with my hands on Belle French, I know it!"
Gold squared his jaw, feeling a tic below his left eye, his head pounding. Jones was eyeing him nervously, and he took a step forward, the click of his cane abnormally loud in the suddenly silent room.
"Oh, and you think you'll get the opportunity, do you?" he said softly. "That Miss French would welcome your perverted attentions? The sheriff would be the least of your worries, let me assure you."
"Okay, okay!" Nottingham was looking a little alarmed, and Jones was moving steadily towards the door, trying to stay out of Gold's line of sight. Gold swept his eyes to the side, throwing his gaze between both men, bringing every ounce of intimidation he could find within and hurling it outwards.
"One more word," he breathed. "That's all. One more inappropriate, disgusting comment about Miss French, Miss Swan, Miss Lucas, or any other girl at this school…"
"Yeah, yeah, you'll run and tell on us to Principal Mills," said Nottingham, waving a bored hand. "We got it, man. Chill."
Jones shot Nottingham a look that said that he seriously doubted the wisdom of making that statement, and inched further away from him. Gold smiled unpleasantly.
"Oh, I won't report you," he said quietly. "I'll simply bide my time, until you least expect it, and then beat the ever-loving shit out of both of you, do you understand me?"
"Gold," said Jefferson sharply. "I think you made your point."
Nottingham opened his mouth with a sneer, as though he was about to retort, but something in Gold's eyes seemed to make him swallow his words. He dropped his gaze.
"Fucking psycho," he muttered, and stomped out of the room, Jones following him. Gold eased his jaw, feeling a dull pain where he had clenched his teeth to keep himself in check. What the hell was wrong with him? He let himself relax a little, a tired sigh hissing from him, and Jefferson's hand on his shoulder made him flinch.
"You okay, man?" asked Jefferson, concern on his face, and Gold nodded, running a hand through his hair.
"Fine, fine," he said distractedly. "I just didn't like what they were saying about - about the girls."
Jefferson rolled his eyes. "They're a couple of sleazes, but I don't think your girls have anything to worry about. Both of 'em need to keep their jobs. They may have crossed a few lines down at that dive of a club, but there's no solid proof of anything." He snorted. "Guess if seniors that weren't dating start showing up pregnant we'll know who to blame, though."
Gold pinched his nose again, trying to clear his head, and Jefferson gave him a sympathetic look.
"Go home, Gold," he said. "You look like shit, and you scare the students when you're like this. Class is over. Get your ass home and dose up on meds or something."
Gold sent him a wry smile. "Trying to mother me only makes me more of a grouch, you know."
"I didn't think that was possible," said Jefferson dryly. "Now get out of here."
By the time Belle got home, she was worn out. Phys Ed had been the usual mix of uncoordinated humiliation. She had stood on Aurora's foot, tripping over and sitting down hard, and the basketball had hit her in the face not long after. The only bright point in the afternoon had been seeing Emma punch Gary Gaston in the crotch. She'd been sent to the principal's office, but Belle was confident that she wouldn't get into trouble. Regina Mills may be a cold disciplinarian, but she took a dim view of groping. She suspected that Gary would be in her office later, once he recovered from Emma's defensive move.
Her father was pleased to see her, and Astrid fussed over her, fetching her a cup of tea so that she could sit with him while Astrid ironed his laundry. He was a little better, in less pain, and she was pleased that the new meds seemed to be working. He reported no further hallucinations, and Belle was able to relax a little. She suggested they play cards, and Astrid joined them few a few games, dropping her cards and giggling every time she got a decent hand, which meant that she invariably lost. It was fun, and Belle could almost forget that he was ill, that his time was limited. He tired quickly, though, and she let Astrid get him ready for sleep at around half-nine, making her way downstairs to the kitchen to make some tea.
Astrid came down around twenty minutes later, smiling to Belle as she got her coat and bag ready for Leroy's imminent arrival.
"He's had a good day," she said warmly. "It's been fun, Belle."
"It has." Belle hesitated, the idea she'd been toying with for some time now swimming to the surface of her mind. "Astrid, did you mean what you said about night shifts?"
"Sure!" said Astrid brightly, clasping her hands together. "Does this mean you'll ask for one? I'll do any night, Belle, really!"
"Um - Saturday?" asked Belle nervously. "It's just - I wanted to go to my friend Ruby's house, and…"
"Oh, it's fine!" Astrid waved a hand. "I'll do an overnight stint. If I come over at six instead of two, I can stay until ten the next morning. It's like a double shift."
"You will get some sleep for some of that, right?" asked Belle, concerned, and Astrid nodded.
"I can sleep, if I get the opportunity," she said. "I usually get between four and six hours on a double shift, but it depends on what kind of a night your dad has. I'm a light sleeper, so he'll wake me no problem if he needs something."
"Okay." Belle bit her lip as she thought of something. "I should probably - check with the agency, or something."
"You mean Mr Gold?" Astrid's face fell. "It'll cost more. Do you think he'll mind?"
"I don't know," admitted Belle. "Let me ask him. I'll tell you tomorrow."
The honk of Leroy's truck horn made them both jump, and Astrid gave her a quick hug.
"I'll keep everything crossed," she whispered, and trotted off into the night, leaving Belle to her growing nervousness. For the first time in many long months, she had the opportunity of spending a night away from home. Now all she had to do was get the agreement of the person she wanted to spend it with.
A/N: Can anyone see the flaw in Belle's genius plan?
Next time: Belle tries to convince Gold to let her stay over.
