It all started when she laughed at his joke at the parent-teacher conference. His son Neal started out first grade unable and unwilling to read, but with Ms. French as a teacher, he'd read through half the school library's catalogue and then some. Gold couldn't find enough books for his son to devour.
When he went to the parent-teacher conference he hadn't expected the bookish Ms. French to be so...well...pretty. And then she laughed at one of his corny jokes. And then she asked about his accent, and he asked about hers, and they talked about how strange Americans were until Mary Margaret and David Nolan knocked on the door, ready for their conference with Ms. French.
Gold chaperoned a field trip to the museum, using it as an excuse to share lunch with Ms. French. She told him to call her Belle, and then asked if he would like to share lunch with her another time.
They'd been seeing each other ever since. But because of Neal, they had to come up with creative solutions for going on dates without him knowing. Usually they met up when he was at art class or his friend Emma's house, like today.
Belle laid with her head on his chest, his bed sheets tangled around their feet. He felt his heartbeat against the side of her face.
"The last day of school is next week," she said, letting the words hang in the air.
About a month ago they'd decided to tell Neal about their relationship the day after the last day of school, when it was no longer a conflict of interest. They would tell him on the last day of school, but neither of them felt confident that he wouldn't get mad at them. They couldn't ruin his last day of school like that.
"We should take him out to ice cream," Gold thought outloud, "somewhere public where he can't run away."
"He wouldn't do that."
Gold ran his hand up and down her back. "If I found out my father was seeing my teacher for months while I was completely in the dark, I'd be at least a little mad."
"Well you're not your father," Belle lifted her head to look into his eyes, knowing that talking about his father was difficult for him.
"I love you."
Belle scooted up until their lips lined up perfectly. "I love you too." She leaned down to kiss him, moving her legs to straddle him. He let his hands roam under her shirt, deepening the kiss.
His bedroom door shot open. "Papa I'm- Ms. French?"
Belle froze on top of him. Gold gently removed her, moving her to lay next to him.
"What are you doing here?" Neal scratched his head.
Belle turned to him, her eyes wide. "Son, do you want some ice cream?" Gold asked.
"Don't change the subject," Neal snapped, pulling himself up to stand at his full four feet. "What is Ms. French doing here? Why are you two in bed in the middle of the day?"
Gold groaned. It was going to be a long night.