4 May 2014

Rumple smiled, but the smile didn't quite reach his eyes; realizing that, he distracted Belle with a flourish of his hands as she opened the door to her apartment to admit him. "For you, sweetheart." In his right hand he produced a bouquet of daisies, while his left offered a stack of magazines. At her small warning frown, he assured her, "No magic, just sleight of hand." He didn't mention that he'd learned such parlor tricks from his father, for the purpose of charming and distracting people while Malcolm picked their pockets. She still frowned a little, and he drew a little cross upon his chest. "I bought these at the pharmacy. With money. No deals, I promise."

She smiled then and stood aside, allowing him to enter as she accepted his gifts. Carrying them into the kitchenette, she said, "Thank you, Rumple. I'll put these in water." She sniffed the daisies before arranging them into a vase, which she then set on the counter. She stood back to admire them. "They're lovely." Then she rifled through the magazines and chuckled. "Modern Bride?Perfect Weddings?" She laughed aloud at the last issue in the stack. "Cosmo's Secrets for Pleasing a Man—and Yourself."

He blinked innocently. "How did that one get in there?"

She tucked that issue into her linen closet. "We'll just save that one for the wedding night." Turning to the stove, she stirred one pot and uncovered another. "Dinner's almost ready."

Since her tiny apartment had no dining room, she'd laid out a tablecloth across the coffee table in front of the couch. He set the makeshift dining table with silverware, napkins and glasses of iced tea, and she dished up plates of spaghetti and French bread toasted with cheese. She'd intentionally avoided the more traditional garlic bread; she anticipated some after-dinner kissing. They settled side by side on the couch to eat and chat about their day.

"Father agreed to walk me down the aisle," she reported.

He raised an eyebrow. "He's accepting of our getting married, then? And having the Dark One as a son-in-law?"

She cocked her head aside. "Well. . . let's say he came around, and I have every confidence that in a year or two, he'll give his approval."

"And how did this miracle come to pass?" He shot her the same warning frown she'd used on him earlier. "Belle. . . was there magic involved?"

"Rumple, you know I'm not magical."

"Oh, you're much more powerful than you take credit for, sweet one." He stroked her cheek. "One bat of those long eyelashes and a man is putty in your hands. One tear glistening on your rosy cheek will drive him to his knees, begging forgiveness, though he doesn't know what for."

She batted those eyelashes. "There may have been a tear or two involved, along with a forgiving hug. And a deal."

"A deal?"

She shrugged. "I learned from the best."

"Does this deal call for me to do anything?"

"Dinner once a month at our house. He promised to keep the conversation light, if you would."

"I can be charming." His voice automatically squeaked on the last word, an old habit he couldn't break. He reached over with his napkin to dab at a spot of sauce on her chin. "Well, perhaps notcharming, but civil, anyway. I promise, no sword play, real or metaphorical, as long as he's courteous to me and respectful of our marriage."

"He agreed to leave the past in the past."

Rumple bowed his head. "Then I shall do the same."

Belle narrowed her eyes. "There's one more thing. This is my idea, not his."

"Yes?"

"In Avonlea, it's tradition for a groom to give his bride a gift on the night of the wedding."

"And vice versa?"

"Well." Belle blushed. "Her maidenhood is considered her gift to him."

"I see. Go on."

"The gift I'd like from you is—I'd like to you speak to him before the wedding. Meet for coffee." She drew in a breath, then released it and her words in a rush. "I want you to apologize for beating him up. And he's going to apologize to you for interfering in our relationship."

He looked down at his spaghetti. "Is he, now?"

"He is. It was a condition I placed on accepting his apology to me, for trying to erase my memory."

His mouth twitched. "You've become quite the dealmaker."

"Will you?"

"Is this another deal? I apologize to him and you'll forgive me for having attacked him?" But there's no bitterness in his voice, just a suggestion of hope.

"No, Rumple. I love you; my forgiveness is always yours, unconditionally. Just as I hope yours is for me."

He smiled genuinely then and kissed her palm. "I could never stay angry at you, sweetheart. Not even if you invited your father to move in with us." He raised a warning finger. "Now you before you get any ideas, that was just an extreme example."

"You'll meet with him, then?"

"For coffee tomorrow. Yes. And I'll apologize." He caught the doubt in her expression. "And I'll mean it. A permanent truce." He picked up his fork. "An apology may be called for, I agree. I should never have believed Regina when she claimed he caused your death."

"Thank you, Rumple." Wisely, she let the topic lay where it was. They ate in silence for a few minutes, until she broached another topic. "You know, that has me thinking. . . how do we know Zelena is really dead? I mean, if she had enough residual magic to destroy herself, maybe she had enough tofakehaving destroyed herself."

"You're safe from her." There was a coldness to his tone. "I promise you."

"Don't you meanwe'resafe from her?"

"Yes, of course. Let's not talk about her, please, Belle. I'd rather put all that behind us."

Her mouth flattened: she knew he'd never begin to heal unless he talked about his experiences of the past year. But how could she refuse when he'd asked her so sincerely—and when the topic brought such a haunted look to his eyes?

"Now," he interrupted her thoughts, "if we're going to marry in less than a week, we have some decisions to make right away. Who would you like to officiate, since justice of the peace is one profession the curse didn't assign to anyone? I suspect the local clergy would have some objections to marrying us."

She pondered. "In the Enchanted Forest, a queen or king could perform weddings." His face darkened, and she nodded. "I agree. I'm not too happy with the Charmings right now, and I certainly don't want Regina officiating at my wedding." She pondered some more, then brightened. "You know, we're a whole new thing here, Storybrooke is; part Enchanted Forest, part American, and part something undefinable. We can make our own rules. I'd like for someone we both like to officiate."

"I'd agree, but Henry's a bit young for that responsibility, wouldn't you say? And there's no one else in this town that fits your description."

She swatted at his arm. "Oh, come on, I'm sure there'ssomeoneelse we both like."

He considered. "Josiah Dove?"

"Yes, but I was thinking someone with more of a leadership capacity, to make it official. I was thinking of Archie."

He smiled wryly. "If my bride wishes to be married by a cricket, who am I to say nay? I'll ask him tomorrow."

"Now let's talk about the ceremony." She pushed her plate away, her appetite forgotten as she daydreamed. "I've always wanted an outdoor wedding, in the moonlight."

"Midnight." The word broke from him and he scowled briefly, remembering that natural magic is at its most potent at noon and at midnight—and that made him remember Zelena. He shook his head. "Sorry, darling. Bad memory. Go on. Outdoor in the moonlight. What else? A large audience, all in formal wear? A chamber choir? My bride deserves a wedding that would rival any royal's."

But they both lowered their gazes, as they realized what a mistake it would be to hold a large wedding. So few Storybrookers would be accepting of this union; most who came would only do so to gawk at the bride sacrificing herself to a demon. As for those few who knew better—the town's heroes—neither Belle nor Rumple felt like celebrating with them, considering their abandonment of him. It still galled Belle that even after Rumple had sacrificed himself to save the town from Pan, there had been no words of gratitude, no acknowledgement of his heroism. They hadn't even thrown him a funeral. She and Bae had had to say their goodbyes to him alone. She hadn't mentioned this failure on the part of the town leadership to Rumple; nothing good could come from informing him of it. But she suspected he suspected they'd either blown him off or even celebrated his loss.

Sometimes, Belle thought, humans could be damn disappointing.

"I want a private wedding. My father, Archie, Josiah, Henry," she enumerated. "And Bae."

His head jerked up and his eyes, widened, connected with hers. If he could feel, he thought, he'd be choked up right now. He nodded. "And Bae." He cleared his throat. "Let's talk about your ring." He reached into the inner pocket of his jacket and brought out a jewelry box. "There are a good many rings in the shop, some of them quite special, including one that's rumored to have been forged by Hephaestus for Aphrodite. And then there's this." He set the box in her hand. "It can't compare with the Aphrodite stone, but. . . ." He shrugged and waited as she opened the box.

She let the ring rest in her palm as she admired it: a simple white gold band with a pattern of roses entwined around a sizable diamond. "It's beautiful. You made this, didn't you?"

He nodded. "After our first hamburger date. I, uh, used magic to create it."

"This is the ring I want." She admired it some more before replacing it in the box and returning it to him. "And none other. Thank you, Rumple." She kissed him. "I think that's when I knew , too, that we'd get married someday."

He returned the box to his jacket. "I'm glad you like it. Glad you likeme." He took her hands in his. "There's still time, if you have second thoughts—I did tell you once that I'm a difficult man to love, even harder to live with." He looked at her closely. "That's only worsened, Belle."

"I want to be at your side, to help you recover. Talk to Archie, Rumple; he's ready to help too; he's had a lot of experience counseling trauma victims. I can go with you, if you prefer, or you can go alone and tell him things that you'd be uncomfortable having anyone else hear. Please."

"I'm a very old soul, Belle. I've lived many lives and I've managed to survive. Zelena is just another bump in the road, soon to be forgotten."

"I understand, but Archie is a wonderful listener and a wise counselor—he doesn't judge—"

Rumple raised his hand in a stop gesture. "If I told the cricket half of what I've experienced in my lifetime, he'd run shrieking back to the Enchanted Forest and join the circus. I'll ask him to officiate at our wedding, but that's all. You'll have to take me as I am, sweetheart: a very old and battered soul who prefers to keep his secrets." He slipped his arms around her waist. "But not too old to protect his wife." He nuzzled her ear. "And not too old to learnCosmo's secrets."

"Rumplestiltskin, you're trying to distract me so I'll forget—"

He whispered something sweetly naughty in her ear, then kissed her thoroughly. "What were you saying before I rudely interrupted you, darling?"

She rested her forehead against his shoulder. "I forgot."