Rumald had a hand on the makeshift workbench, Marco had setup in front of the stage area, his feet crossed at his ankles, listening to Marco's suggestions as Marco pointed to different points in the plans. The past two days had given Marco plenty of time to inspect the building, while his men tore down the walls and ceilings, dividing the three screen rooms. They had not wasted any time. The parking lot at the back of the building, was littered with rubbish they had removed from the building - a huge pile of seats, three rolled up screens and various piles of rubble. The old picture house felt colder and bigger after so much of it had been torn out, and they were not even finished yet.
"See here," Marco pointed to the projection booth on the plans, what had been for the large screen room. "We could knock through and put a wall length window in."
Rumald was intrigued. "Spying on everyone below?"
"I suppose, but it's more to let some natural light into that room. Otherwise, it'll feel like a tome in there." Marco twisted, waving to the room in question.
"If you think you can do it in time with the other work, then do it, Marco." He said, drawing back the left flap of his overcoat to brace his hand on his hip.
Marco gestured to the room. "Thursday, we should have all the prep work done, and then Friday, I want to start constructing the balcony as that's what going to take the time." Then waved to the projection room. "I can spare a couple of men to cut a hole through the wall, reinforce and prep it ready for the window."
"Let Dove know the size and he can organise the window for you." Rumald instructed.
Marco nodded his head. "The wiring looks as though they updated it over the years and looks to be in good condition. No chew marks or dodgy wiring, so it shouldn't take too much work to bring it up to present code."
"That's good." Rumald's brow raised his forehead, surprised.
"There's a small amount of damp in some of the rooms in the basement, but that won't take much to rectify." Marco commented, bobbing his head to the side.
Uncrossing his feet, Rumald took his hand off his hip and touched Marco's shoulder. "I'm waiting for the bad news."
"Surprisingly, I haven't got any." Marco shrugged his shoulders. "Whatever there is, it's minimal or will be sorted during renovation work. There isn't really anything that should give us any problems. Unless something drastic happens."
Rumald stepped away from Marco, turning to look round at the shell of what was left of the large screen room. "Famous last words, Marco."
"I hope not." Marco muttered, moving to the end of the workbench, reaching into his bag to take out a thermos. "Coffee?"
"Thank you, but no." Rumald said, waving off Marco's offer. "I should check in with Dove. I haven't been to the shop yet."
"Okay, I'll call you, if something comes up." Marco told him, unscrewing the lid on his thermos.
Rumald gave him a curt nod and walked away, casting his gaze to the extremely high ceiling above his head. It was still as daunting as it had been when he had first arrived, standing in the doorway to one of the small screen rooms, able to see the large screen area of the large screen room, with nothing left of the small screen rooms. He passed by the two bobcats, they had used to tear down the walls, sat idle waiting for a job. The beautiful rooms destroyed and ripped back to the bare exterior walls. Rumald knew it would be worth it in the end, once they had infused the building with a new lease of life, it would be beautiful again.
Pushing open the door to the building, Rumald strolled out onto the sidewalk and walked straight out into the street, crossing to head to his shop. He had parked his car there earlier and walked straight over to the old picture house, wanting an update from Marco. He had not stopped all day. He had gotten up early, springing an early visit on tenants and debtors, who had not paid or half paid on Saturday on Dove. After his rounds, he had popped into the bank, opening a new account for the old picture house, and moved a considerable amount into the account. He had not stopped for lunch, instead he had driven to Falmouth, to pick up a painting, which someone had called him about yesterday, wanting him to restore the frame. It must have been about mid-afternoon, when he arrived back in Storybrooke.
He was getting closer to the intersection, where the street met with Main Street, and his gaze naturally went to the large cream building with the clock tower above it. The last time he had seen her was yesterday morning, doing stretches on the bottom steps of his porch, preparing to run back to Grannies. He had been standing at the top of the stairs, cup of coffee in his hand, wearing his silk robe over his pyjamas, feeling the chill of the early morning as he watched her.
"I've left my bag in your room." Belle had informed him as she changed legs and bent over, reaching to touch the toe of her sneaker.
"Do you want me to bring it in with me?" He had offered, taking a step down the porch.
She shook her head at him, unfolding herself to be her full height. "I'll get it next time I come over."
"You can leave some things here, if you want? I wouldn't mind." Rumald had been a few steps from the bottom of the stairs, when he had said it.
Taking her foot off the step, turning to meet him as he had stepped off the steps, and had stretched her arms above her head, smiling as she had said. "I'll bring a few things then, next time."
He had taken a drink from his coffee, finishing it, and had tossed the remains onto the front lawn, saying to her. "I really don't mind giving you a ride into town."
"No, it's fine." She had lowered her arms down to her sides. "It should be a good run to Granny's from here. Plus, you shouldn't have to go in early, because of me."
With a sly smile, Rumald had hooked his finger into the front of her jacket and had urged her to come closer to him. "If it's a good workout you're after, Miss French, I'm sure I could facilitate your needs."
Belle had laid her hands onto his chest. "You did a very good job of that last night,", she had tiptoed up the short distance and had kissed him. "but I - need - to go for a run."
"You - need - to come back to bed!" He had declared, whilst capturing her into his arms and throwing her down onto the porch steps, careful not to hurt her as he had hastily laid her onto the steps.
She had laughed, tightly holding onto the front of his robe. "Rumald, I need to go!"
He had covered her mouth with his, thoroughly kissing her, whilst he had groped a cheek of her butt, firmly kneading the luscious mound of flesh in his hand. Instinctually, her legs had wrapped high around his waist, allowing him to settle between her legs. Needing to feel her, to touch her, Rumald had slipped his hand into her leggings, removing the layer between his hand and her.
"Ooo!" Belle had gasped loudly. "Your hand is cold!"
"It'll get warmer in a second." He had told her, delving his hand deeper into her leggings, seeking her warmth.
"Stop!" She had laughed, pushing against him, unwrapping her legs. "I need to go!"
Rumald had rolled off her and had sat onto the steps as Belle had sprung up, readjusting her leggings and her clothes. He had rested back with his elbows onto the step behind him, admiring her, lovingly gazing up and down her body. She had shaken her head with a rueful smile before leaning down to him, kissing him firmly on the lips.
"Later, tiger." She had said, whispering a touch to his face, and had turned away to set off into a jog, leaving him to watch her provocatively sway her hips at him.
Smiling at the memory, Rumald licked at his lips with the tip of his tongue, enjoying the sight of her in his mind's eye. He smoothed his hands down the front of his overcoat and adjusted the knot of his tie, deciding to pop in and see before he went to the shop. A sly smile on his face, Rumald sauntered to the door of the library and yanked opened the door, strolling inside without a care. The door squeaked as he closed behind him, heading straight to her office behind the circulation desk. Her office door was open, so he stepped inside, his smile grew when he found her standing in front of a filing cabinet, reading a file open in her hands.
He leant back against the wall, clasping his hands in front of him, freely roaming his gaze down her body, her legs to the black heels she was wearing. Maybe it was because he had not seen her since yesterday, but he was finding the sight of her very appetising. As her hand raised to her face, touching a finger to her lips, Rumald held his breath, intently watching whilst her finger traced her bottom lip. Silently, he let out the breath he held, the threat of a growl grew deep inside of his throat. She lowered the finger from her lips to turn the page in the folder.
"Hello, dearie." Rumald drew out the 'dearie'.
The file slapped shut in her hands, whilst she jumped at the sound of his voice, and turned to face him, holding the file to her chest. "God, you scared me!" Belle smiled, nervously giggling. "How long have you been there?"
"Not long." He answered, slightly pouting his lower lip.
Still smiling, Belle tossed the file to her desk, whilst crossing the short space to stand in front of him, and threw her arms around his neck, telling him. "I missed you."
Leaning in as his arms went around her, Rumald kissed her, a lot longer than was probably needed, and pulled back, returning her omission. "I missed you too."
"Hmm," she kissed him again, surprising him, and then asked. "Are you staying for a bit? I could make tea? Coffee?"
"Tea would be a nice change." One side of his lips turned up into a smile at her.
A thought occurred to her, causing her eyebrows to momentarily lift up her brow, and she motioned with her head to the library. "Henry's in there." Rumald looked to the open doorway. "Been asking questions about you."
"Has he now…" he let his question trail off.
"Why don't you go and talk to him, and I'll bring your tea into you?" She suggested to him, trailing a finger down the length of his tie.
He gave her a single nod of his head. "Okay."
Gleefully, she bounced away from him to prepare their drinks, flicking her hair back to glimpse at him as she went to the small kitchenette in her office. Rumald wanted to freeze the moment, capture her in a photograph, loving how her face lit up when she smiled. He never wanted to forget this moment. Never forget how the sight of her warmed his heart. Made him feel strong and capable, and fall deeper in love with her.
"Go on." Belle encouraged, waving the teaspoon through the air, shooing him out of her office.
Rumald softly grinned, turning to leave her office, glancing back at her, while he exited her office into the library. Over the circulation desk, he could see his grandson… Grandson? Such a strange concept. Rumald had never given much thought to being a grandfather. To him, having Neal had always been enough. The idea that his own son would then go on to have own children had never occurred to him. In his mind, after Milah left, it would have always been just him and Neal, but then life never plays out the way we hope. Always throwing us a curveball, when we were not expecting it.
Striding purposefully around the circulation desk, Rumald approached the table, where his grandson was sitting with several open books on the table. He stopped behind a chair, touching his fingers to the back of the chair. Slowly, Henry's gaze raised up to meet Rumald's.
"Hello, Henry." Rumald greeted him with a warm smile. "Do you mind if I sit?" He asked, softly.
"No." Henry gave a short reply.
"What homework are you doing?" He inquired as he pulled out the chair and sat down, resting forward onto the table with his elbows.
Henry sat back into his chair. "I've got to read up on the Egyptians for tomorrow's quiz."
Rumald nodded his head at the information. "Have you gotten to the bit, where they pulled your brain out through your nose?"
"Eww… No." His grandson pulled a disgusted face.
"I thought a boy of your age, would have found that sort of thing interesting." He chuckled lightly at Henry's reaction.
Henry scowled. "Why would they want to do that? That's just disgusting!"
"They believed that the person would come back to life, so they took out certain organs and their brain to preserve them." Henry's face twisted even more with disgust as Rumald explained, making him smirk.
Behind him, Rumald heard footsteps approaching, while Henry said. "That's just so wrong."
"Here you go." Belle stooped to put his tea on the table, smiling across the table at Henry. "Do you want a drink, Henry? Hot chocolate?"
"No, thank you, Miss French." Henry politely declined.
Rumald put his hand on the curve of Belle's ass, jolting her gaze to him, and smiled up at her. "Thank you, Miss French."
"My pleasure, Mr Gold." And she kissed him. "I'll leave you two to it." Belle told him, pressing her forehead to his, smiling at him.
"You don't have to go." He said to her as she stood up.
"I've got some things to do. I'll only be at the counter." She informed him, gesturing a hand to the counter.
Belle squeezed his shoulder before she walked away, her heels clicking as she went, and Henry said. "Have you heard from Neal… my dad?"
Rumald breathed in at Henry's question and then answered him. "I spoke to him last night."
"Did he talk about me?" Henry's gaze was casted down on the book, he had been reading earlier.
"He didn't stop talking about you." He lied and felt terrible for it, but as Henry looked up, a hopeful glint in his eye, all he saw was his grandfather's kind smile.
"Really?" Henry prompted Rumald to continue.
Rumald took a sip from his tea, licking his lips as he placed his cup back down on the table, buying himself time to think. He really did not want to lie to the boy. Yet, he did not want Henry to think his father was unhappy with the news that he had a son, which he was sure Neal was not. The shock of the news and the fact the love of his life had lied to him, were keeping Neal from processing the fact he had a son. His kindness to Henry would no doubt come back to bite in his ass, but he pushed forward with his lie.
"Neal was saying, how he can't wait to come back and take you out somewhere. If he hadn't been so busy at work this week, he would've took the time off to spend some time with you." Rumald spun his web of lies.
Henry shrugged a single shoulder. "I know he's mad with mum. I'm mad with mum. She told me he was a fireman and that he died."
"Oh…" He played with the handle of his cup. "It must've been a bit confusing, when she was telling you the truth then."
His grandson shrugged his shoulder again. "Grandma said, it was for my own good, because you're a bad man."
On the outside, Rumald's expression had not changed, while on the inside he was blowing up like a volcano. It did not surprise him. Mary-Margaret had never liked him. She had taken a distaste to him, when he had started doing business with her father and that he had bought her house from her previous landlord. Rumald also suspected, she blamed him for Cora setting her eyes on her father, marrying him the year after she split from Rumald. Making them all a happy little family. The only good thing that came from the union, was Mary-Margaret took to her role of being the elder step-sister, looking after Regina, while Cora swanned off without a care.
"I'm not going to lie to Henry," Again. "I've done some bad things in my life. I've hurt many people, especially the ones I've loved." He held his hands out to Henry, putting himself at his grandson's mercy.
"What sort of bad things?" Henry inquired, his eyebrow raised in interest.
"Things I'm not going to discuss with a nine-year-old." Rumald picked up his cup and drank from his tea.
His eyebrows pressed down over his eyes as Henry asked. "Do you still do these things?"
Rumald shook his head. "No." And put down his cup. "I try not to do those things anymore." He smiled as he said. "I didn't want your father to be around those sort of things, so I had to change."
"So…" Henry's brow lifted. "You're good now?"
"I wouldn't say that. I have my moments." It was the most honest, he had been with anyone in a long time, and it scared him how easy it was to talk to his grandson.
Henry nodded his head and changed the subject. "Are you going to marry Miss French?"
There was loud clunk and a hushed curse from somewhere over Rumald's shoulder. His eyes widened in shock at Henry's unexpected question. He had forgotten how children could flick from one conversation to another, without a natural transition. Nonetheless, how Henry had gotten from talking about Neal to whether Rumald was going to marry Belle, boggled him.
"I heard mum and Neal… Dad talking about you and Miss French, and dad said he wouldn't be surprised if you married her." Henry supplied some context for his question.
"Did he now?" Rumald asked rhetorically, noting to kill his son at a later date.
Henry titled his head to the side. "Would you?"
Threading his fingers together, resting his joined hands in front of him, he told Henry. "If she wanted to marry me, I'd marry her within a heartbeat." Rumald knew Belle was listening to him. "But it's too soon for that kind of talk, Henry, we're still getting to know each other."
"But you love her, right? Shouldn't you marry the person you love?" Henry was becoming more animated with his hands as he spoke, reminding Rumald of himself.
"Yes, but it's not quite that simple." He tried to explain, hoping Belle did not take anything he said the wrong way.
'Surely, she would agree with me.', he thought to himself, taking a sip from his cooling tea. Looking across the table, Rumald could see Henry was pouting his lip and his brow was down over his eyes, deep in thought about his next question. He began to wonder whose idea it was, for him to talk to his grandson, and then rolled his eyes remembering it was Belle.
"So, technically, she'd be my step grandmother." Henry stated, rather than asked. "Which would mean, Mr French would be my step great grandfather."
Rumald opened his mouth a few times, knowing the answer was 'yes', but was unable to get the word off of the tip of his tongue. The boy was getting well ahead of himself and they had not even gotten down the aisle yet. Rumald felt like the world was spinning away from him, while Henry continued to pout, moving onto his next subject of conversation.
"Do you think you're going to have more children?" Henry asked innocently, his gaze somewhere up on the ceiling.
Something smashed on the floor and Rumald shot up from his seat, thanking whoever as he dashed round the circulation desk to discover Belle on her knees, picking up the pieces of her cup. He dropped down to join her, picking up the pieces of what was left of the handle, giving Belle a sympathetic look. To Rumald's astonishment, when she looked up from pieces in her hands, she was biting her lip, her eyes brightly shone with her amusement. He narrowed his gaze at her, uncertain he should trust his eyes. Awkwardly, she climbed up onto the feet, holding the pieces of the smashed cup in her hands, and dropped them into the trash bin, sat close to her office door. Rumald followed her, glimpsing at Henry, whose nose was buried back in his book.
"I'm sorry about that." Rumald whispered to her.
"You don't need to be sorry." She smiled, touching his arm, while he dropped the pieces he had collected into the trash.
He eyed her suspiciously. "It didn't make you feel uncomfortable?"
"That your grandson was questioning your intentions for his favourite librarian?" Belle poked her finger at his chest, jesting with him.
The corner of his lips turned up into a smile, but quickly disappeared as he worried about what he had said to Henry. "I was being honest with the boy. I wasn't trying to avoid the question about marrying you. It's just too early for that." His eyes went wide, daunted by the implications and the truth of the situation. "I mean, what? We've only been together a week? Talking of marriage this soon is just…"
Belle took a hold of his face, directing him to look at her. "It's okay." His brow drooped heavily over his eyes. "I wasn't bother by it, honest. Surprised, but not bothered." She smiled, stroking a thumb over his cheek. "Quite like the idea of being Mrs Gold someday, but you're right, not quite yet. We've got all the time in the world."
His heart was beating like the clappers in his chest. Smiling like an idiot, Rumald brought her closer to him, closing the distance, so their foreheads touched one another. He would have kissed her, wanted to kiss her, but he was too enthralled with staring into Belle's eyes. Her thumb stroked lovingly down his cheek, giving him all the reassurance he needed with a simple a touch. He loved her, really loved her, and he would marry her one day, and they would have children, and she would be a grandmother – Not quite yet though, they had time for that, they had time for everything.