FIRST DATE WITH FOREVER
Belle turned her wrist to check her watch. Her date was now a half an hour late. Had she not gotten lost in the woes of Gwyndolen Harleth in "Daniel Deronda," she would have stormed out. But the atmosphere of the Italian restaurant was relaxed, clean and pleasant. Old jazz music played in the background. At least she could read in peace.
The red rose beside her plate had begun to wilt from the heat of the lit candles. She had brought it along so that her date would recognize her. The one carrying a red rose… It was all very cliché, of course, but she couldn't help herself.
The feet of the chair across from her scraped against the floor as a large man pulled it out. His large brow puckered. "What's that?" He was pointing at her novel.
"Uh, a book? I trust you've seen one before." Belle stuck her bookmark in to save her place. She shook the man's large paw-like hand. "Hello, nice to meet you. I'm Belle French."
He flashed her a smile. The candlelight glinted off his pearly white teeth… they were unnaturally large. "Gaston Harcourt. Wow, you're hot."
She gritted her teeth, dropping her hand back in her lap.
Gaston plopped into the chair across the table. She felt dirty as he looked her over, as though she were a piece of meat. She regretted that her neckline had a dip that showed off a bit of her cleavage. It wasn't skanky, but for an idiot like this, it was a feast for the eyes.
Ruby was going to pay dearly for this. Her friend was constantly ragging on her for not getting out more and took it upon herself to fix Belle up. She had sworn that this guy was charming when he came in at Granny's. Gaston was handsome with a fine physique to match, but from her first impression of him, she would guess that was all there was to him.
Gaston threw his head back and laughed. He must have made a joke that he had thought was funny. She wasn't sure, as she had stopped listening.
Belle gave a weak smile and sipped her peach tea.
Gaston was back to staring, or rather leering at her. "You're not the girl to have fun with, I can see that. You're the girl a guy settles down for. Brings home to his mother."
Belle stiffened. "I don't want to be the one who is settled for. I want to be chosen."
"Gotcha." Gaston nodded. "I hear you, loud and clear."
This is going to be a long night. Belle groaned. She could sense a headache coming on. Possibly a full-on migraine. Perhaps that could serve as a handy excuse to the leave the restaurant post-haste.
The waiter took their orders and the second he was gone, Gaston launched into a story about one of his hunting trips.
She allowed her gaze to stray. It was the only way she could survive listening to Gaston. There were a few other couples there, most of them enjoying their meals and their company. The couple in the booth next to them claimed her attention. She could only see the man from behind, but the woman was cackling, her reddish hair wild and her green eyes were wide. If anyone had crazy eyes, it was this woman.
"And then the buck's blood splattered all over my windshield." Gaston's booming voice reclaimed her focus. He bellowed out his story loud enough for the entire room to hear. "Guts everywhere!"
Belle wrinkled her nose. "Wow, what a conundrum."
"Hey, don't worry about that. I got a few of those stashed away in my wallet, for an emergency." He gave her a sly wink. "Anyway, I mounted his head on my wall-"
"What? Conundrum..."
"Its okay, babe. Really. There's a whole bunch in my glovebox in case I can only make it as far as the truck." He wriggled his thick eyebrows at her.
It took her a little bit for her to realize that he thought she was asking him about condoms. She couldn't tell which was worse. That the man was too stupid to not know the difference between a condom and a conundrum, or that he thought he could have her out in the truck. Especially after only knowing her for twenty minutes.
"Want to skip dinner and just head back to my place?" Gaston asked.
Belle felt her face grow hot. "That is not what I was talking about. I said conundrum!" Picking up her purse, she snapped, "You're disgusting. Excuse me."
Without another word, she dashed into the ladies room. There was an empty burgundy chase lounge against the wall. Belle sunk down into the seat cushion and started to cry. This was ridiculous. She didn't know why she was upset. It wasn't as though she had high hopes for this date. None of her dates ever turned out well. Her books and movies always set the bar too high. Men in real life never measured up to the heroes in books. There were good men out there, but for every good man, there were twenty Gaston's.
Being on the wrong side of thirty, with only books and a mentally unstable cat to keep her company, she never felt more alone than she did now.
#
Gold checked his pocket watched for the fifteenth time in five minutes. Those damn hands would not tick any faster, no matter how much he willed them to. If he cried off early, he might get back before it was too late and he'd have plenty of time to watch the episodes of the "Antiques Road Show" that he asked Bae to DVR and maybe even a couple episodes of "Pawn Stars." That and a glass of Johnnie Walker would compensate for an abysmal first date.
Somehow Bae had talked him into going out with someone off of a matchmaking website. The interweb site guaranteed that he would be matched to his true love and that happiness would follow. If he hadn't loved his son so much, he wouldn't have agreed to this ludicrous scheme.
His son claimed that he spent every evening alone, watching documentaries and historical whatnot. That was entirely untrue. Some nights- the ones that Bae was out with his friends- he stayed late at the shop and worked on his inventory. Now and then he dropped in at the town council meetings just to screw with the mayor and frighten a few of his tenants, but that was only when he was in a playful mood.
The woman who sat across from him – Zelena Greene- took her surname far too seriously. She was decked out- from head to toe in a skin tight florescent green dress. A gaudy green pendant hung from her neck. She was like some oversized Leprechaun. The way she bobbed about in the booth, all he could see was her eyes and teeth.
"I am so glad to finally meet you in person. The powerful, elusive Mr. Gold." Zelena reached across the table and when she laid her manicured fingers on his wrist, it felt like a hawk landed there. "Do you know how hard it is to meet a nice guy? All the good ones are married. My last boyfriend Robin was and we had to break it off because he reconciled with his wife. Such a Boy Scout."
Gold recoiled from her and took a long swig from his glass. Perhaps if he said as little as possible, this woman would take the hint and then take a hike. Oh, it wouldn't bother him to be rude; he had been rude plenty of times. That was his nature. But he was the one to ask her out via that interweb program.
His attention was briefly diverted when the oaf in the booth behind him started raving to his date about condoms. The young brunette woman told him off and shot out of her seat and to the ladies' room.
"Thank God you're single again." Zelena was watching him, as though she were transfixed.
Gold looked at her. "Beg pardon? How did you know I was recently in a relationship?" He tugged on the knot of his tie. It was cutting off his breathing. "That was private."
After he and his wife divorced, he had a relationship –if one could call it that- with Cora. It was nothing serious. They'd be together for a while, then drift apart and then be back together again. On again, off again. Bae never knew; not that it was something that he was proud of nor that he'd share with his son. He broke up with Cora once and for all when she recently married to some millionaire. She had wanted to continue on. He may be many things, but he would not commit adultery. Not after he had been cheated on before.
Aside from Cora, no one knew about their relationship. Which brought him back to his initial question. How the hell did Zelena Greene know about it?
"I'm a smart girl, Mr. Gold and smart girls always do their research before a date." Zelena gushed. "Like I know you have a son, Bae...Baeden, who talked you into dating again. You were born in Glasgow to a con artist named Malcolm and your mother died when you were young. You love to spin in your spare time."
For crying out loud, this woman was bat shit crazy! She was one of those stalkers that you hear about on the news. He was lucky to not be locked away in a lair of hers.
Were she not a woman, he'd be beating the hell out of her with his cane right about now.
Gold settled for slamming his fist onto the table. She jerked and for a moment was silent. "Dearie, you crossed a line! What the hell were you thinking? My son, my life is my own business." He pointed. "The last thing I want is some psychotic witch meddling in my affairs."
For a few seconds her eyes were rounded with fear. Then she let out a deranged cackle. "Oops." Zelena purred at him. "Come now, Rummy-"
"Enough! It is Mr. Gold to you, dearie." Gold threw his napkin down on the table and stood. No one knew his name, aside from Bae. That this crazy redheaded snippet could find it meant that she had dug deep into his personal life. "When I return from the loo, you had better be gone."
Zelena's mouth was drawn into an exaggerated pout. She started to sputter but he stalked away from her and disappeared into the men's restroom.
Gold hooked the crook of his cane on the edge of the counter. He turned on the faucet and splashed cold water on his face.
When he shut it off, he rose to his full height and noticed the reflection in the mirror. Only then did he realize how old he was and how nothing had gone according to his plans. He had accomplished much in his life; he had his boy, his shop and a measure of success. That should be enough. But when his past caught up with him or someone learned something about his personal life, he had no one to turn to.
He was not a people person; he never had been. Long ago he had made peace with the fact that he'd be single for the rest of his life.
Yet, he could not deny the loneliness that he felt- from whatever it was that was missing from his life.
#
Gold waited in the men's room a good ten minutes before heading back towards his table. To his annoyance, Zelena was still there, distracted by her reflection in a spoon. He was on the verge of charging over and showing her how beastly he really could be when the oaf who sat in the neighboring booth slid out and stood by her.
Gold ducked behind a divider. Thankfully neither of them knew how to use their inside voices.
"Hey, hot stuff." The oaf put his hands on his hips and straightened his posture. "You okay?"
"Yes. Can you believe Gold? I take an interest in him and he flips out. He should be grateful- no one else wants him." Zelena stuck out her lower lip.
"My date isn't much better. I flirt with her and she gets all uptight. Just by the looks of her, I can tell she's frigid." The oaf grunted.
Gold winced. No wonder the oaf's date ditched him. He seemed like the male version of Zelena, except he was far crasser.
Zelena jumped to her feet. She was as nearly as tall as the oaf. Her long fingers coiled around his bicep. "Hey, why don't we get out of here? Then they'll realize how petty they are being. They'll come crawling back."
She started to cackle. The way she acted and laughed, she had serial killer written all over her.
The oaf grinned. "Sure. Until then, I bet we can find something to do to amuse ourselves."
The two left the restaurant, arm in arm, without a care in the world.
Gold returned to the table, this time sitting on the opposite side of the booth. Why he moved, he wasn't sure. Except for the fact that that he was curious to see how the oaf's date would respond to being abandoned. If she returned. She had been gone a long while.
Another five minutes lapsed until she finally came back to the table.
The young woman reclaimed her seat, her cornflower blue eyes scanning the restaurant. She was pretty- beautiful, in fact. Small and petite; he felt tall compared to her. Her brunette locks fell in waves, framing her face. Her pinkish mouth contrasted wonderfully with her creamy skin. Despite her lovely looks, he could sense there was more to her, that her beauty wasn't only skin deep.
He tore his gaze away from her. She hadn't known he had been watching her and would likely find it unsettling to have a middle-aged man gaping at her. Why he was drawn to her was beyond him; he had never met her before in his life and would likely never see her again. Yet something drew him to her. He found himself trying to figure out how to engage her in a conversation.
Gold fought the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He suddenly figured out his way in.
She had a book with her.
#
Belle shifted in her seat, trying to get comfortable. Hope welled up within her. Gaston was not there when she had returned and she wondered if he had left. They had already ordered their meals and she'd be stuck paying for both, but that would be worth it if she no longer had to be in his presence.
She had her book opened to the place she marked and was about to dive back in when the waiter shuffled past.
Signaling him, she asked, "Excuse me, did you see where my date went?"
The waiter looked sheepish. "I'm afraid, miss, that he left with a tall, red-haired woman. Shall I cancel your orders?"
"Just his, if you can, thank you." Belle replied.
The waiter nodded. "Very good, miss." He returned to the kitchen.
Belle nibbled on her thumbnail as she scanned the words. Her date may have been a bust, but tonight didn't have to be a total loss.
"You aren't going to leave?" A deep voice thickened by a Scottish brogue interrupted her concentration.
The man in the booth next to hers was watching her. He was the date of the red-haired woman who possessed the crazy eyes, the one Gaston took off with. However, he did not seem at all distraught over the absence of his companion. Candle light flickered over his face intermittently, making it difficult for her to see what he looked like. Were she not so intrigued by the fact that there was a mysterious Celtic stranger in the middle of dull old Storybrooke, she would have ignored him and returned to her book.
"I had to endure twenty minutes of Gaston telling me how he killed a deer and mounted the pathetic creature's head on a wall. Then he bragged about the number of condoms he was carrying in his pocket, for later." Belle concluded. "So I have more than earned a plate of chicken fettucine Alfredo and a huge piece of chocolate cake."
"I see. Well, enjoy your meal and your little book."
She slammed the book shut. "'Daniel Deronda' is hardly little at 900 pages. It is a forgotten literary classic," she said archly.
"If you say so. I prefer 'Silas Marner.' Its matter of fact and to the point." Amusement colored his tone. She wasn't sure if he was laughing at her or teasing. Either way, she was intrigued by a man who knew George Eliot.
Belle gathered up her purse, book, the rose, and iced tea. She approached his table but paused at the opening of the booth. "I cannot debate and discuss books with you properly a table away. May I join you?"
"Be my guest." The man gestured to the empty seat.
Belle sat down, placed her drink on the table and her book and purse in the empty spot next to her. The rose she stuck in the crazy red-haired woman's water glass. The waiter hurried over to serve them their meals and appeared a little flustered that they had joined forces. However, he knew better than to question it.
She finally had the opportunity to see the Scottish man across from her. He had an angular face, framed by longish gray-brown hair. A snarky expression played on his thin lips, however his whisky colored eyes implied that he wasn't to be feared. He was wearing a three-piece suit, complete with tie and a tiny red silk hanky peeping out of his pocket.
The Scotsman had to be a good fifteen years her senior, possibly more, but she liked what she saw.
"My name is Belle French, by the way." Belle said, cutting her noodles into smaller pieces. When he made no response, she prompted, "This is the point in the conversation where you tell me your name."
"Gold. Mr. Gold." He said. Taking his cue from her, he started to slice up his steak.
She had heard the name Mr. Gold thrown around, often taken in vain. In a town as small as Storybrooke, he was apparently their Boo Radley. Where the rumors ended and the truth began, she did not know.
She worked to keep her reaction neutral. "The Mr. Gold who owns the pawnshop and ninety percent of Storybrooke?"
"One and the same. I see my reputation precedes me." He said dryly.
Belle racked her brain to think of something interesting to say. Here was an intelligent, cultured and experienced man, not to mention wealthy. Aside from moving Australia to America when she was young, she had done nothing extraordinary in her life. She had dreams and ambitions, but he would hardly be impressed by her aspirations. She had wanted to visit his shop, having heard through the grapevine about all of the exotic things in there, but Ruby warned her that the owner did not like people to window shop. With a modest librarian's salary, she could hardly afford to buy rare antiques.
"I work across the street from you at the library," she finally decided to say. She took a few bites of her Alfredo; it was hard to swallow down her constricting throat. His calm gaze was unnerving her and she prayed she wouldn't choke. "How is it that we have never met? Storybrooke is a small enough town."
"You do not rent from me and I can afford to buy my own books. I'm not particularly social." Mr. Gold said.
"I never would have guessed that from your sunshiny disposition," Belle snapped and didn't bother to hide her smug expression when he blinked at her in surprise. "Don't insult my books and I won't insult you," she warned.
Mr. Gold had a smirk of his own, one that she could not discern. "Fair enough. I think I like you, Miss French. You're not afraid of me, and that's either cocky or presumptuous. Either way, I'd rather have you on my side."
"High praise, indeed." Belle rolled her eyes. The last thing she wanted was false compliments; what was even worse was to be belittled by this man. "All right, if you are not social, how is it that you are on a date now?"
Mr. Gold was slow to answer, spending more time on chewing his meat. "You ask too many questions, dearie," he mumbled finally.
"Nonsense. There is no such thing as too many questions."
Mr. Gold laid his fork down and leaned against the back of his seat. "My son talked me into it. He thinks I am lonely and have no real friends." He sighed. "He got me involved with this interweb program where I met Zelena."
She was on the verge of laughing, but stopped herself. The poor man clearly was out of his element. He might not win the "Mr. Personality of the Year" award, but she found it endearing that he was willing to put himself through this for the sake of his son. Therefore he could not be as bad as the town portrayed him.
Crazy Eyes was named Zelena. That made sense. A crazy name to match with her crazy eyes.
Belle decided to make it easy on him. She was not the most sociable person either, but clearly even she got around more than Mr. Gold did. "My friend Ruby said the same thing about me. So she set me up with Gaston. She was right in one respect. I am lonely." She ate a couple more bites. "What sort of things do you sell at your shop?'
Sometime while she was talking, his demeanor changed. It softened, in fact. Perhaps the infamous Mr. Gold was just a façade and he was hiding whatever lie beneath. If that were correct, she was glad that he was allowing her to see his true self. Even if it were only a tiny glimpse, it would be worth it.
Mr. Gold inclined forward a degree and in a low voice, said, "After dinner, come with me and I'll give you the grand tour."
"All right." Belle agreed without a second thought.
Cold façade or good hearted gentleman, either one was more preferable to the crude and crass Gaston.
#
By the time Gold polished off his steak and baked potato, he was full. However when Belle ordered a large slice of cake called Death by Chocolate and requested two forks, he didn't care if he had to choke it down his gullet; he was going to help her eat it.
Taking small bites, he chewed it slowly. The intensely sweet flavor nearly made his eyes water.
"I love chocolate." Belle giggled, after licking the prongs on the fork.
Gold averted his eyes, feeling hot. This whole evening had been…extraordinary. He had been on dates before, practically a lifetime ago and though it had started out rough with Zelena, it had took a turn for the better when Belle charged over to argue with him about books. He couldn't believe his little ploy had worked, nor could he believe his luck.
Belle was everything he expected her to be from that first glimpse. Her beauty wasn't only skin deep; she was beautiful inside and out. The last two hours spent in her company had been magical. The longer he talked with her, the less lonely he felt. He thought he could be snarky and act indifferent, but one scolding, knowing look from her told him that she could see straight through his little act. There was no pretending with Belle and that was what frightened him the most.
Mr. Gold wasn't a real person, just a persona to keep others at an arm's length. She may not know his first name, but she could see who he really was. A pathetic, lonesome old man who had fallen in love with her at first sight. Were she to reject him, she wouldn't be rejecting Mr. Gold, she would be rejecting him.
"I can't get enough of it." Belle's cheerful voice broke into his thoughts.
"What woman doesn't like it?" Gold laid his fork aside. His stomach felt too heavy; she could have the rest of the rich dessert. "You're one of those chocoholics, aren't you?"
"Don't pretend that you know me." Belle rolled her eyes. He couldn't tell if she was teasing him or was being sarcastic.
"Ah, but I do. You're one of those old fashioned romantics who live their adventures through their books. So much so that you miss out on the world around you. Am I right?"
Belle dropped her fork in mid-air. It clanked against one of the dishes. Her eyes glistened. "Mr. Gold, that's not fair-" she protested.
He cringed. He hadn't meant to upset her; he was so used to being frank that except for his son, he was rarely ever kind. In his bumbling manner, he was only trying to show her that he could see her for who she really was, too.
"I'm not finished." Gold gently placed his hand on top of hers. "You're incredibly...good and you can somehow find the good in others. And when it's not there, you create it."
Belle studied him and managed a watery smile. "Mr. Gold, that is quite possibly the best complement that anyone has ever given to me." She squeezed his hand. Her touch was the exact opposite of Zelena's. Belle's was warm and loving, like a hug. "You have been holding back on me. You're not all that you seem. Beneath all of those layers, beats the heart of a good man."
Ask her out! He ordered himself. But somehow he couldn't get the words: you out would go with again me? in the order they should be. He wasn't sure he could say any of that without sounding like a stroke victim.
Instead he settled for a blank stare until a young couple stopped abruptly at their table.
Gold recoiled as though he had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
They were in their twenties. The woman was blonde, was prim and had thick lips. Oh she was pretty, but not in the sense that Belle was. The man was, well, ordinary looking, but his mouth was constantly drawn into a pout.
The man reminded him of that Grumpy Cat that Bae was always laughing about.
"Belle, hi." The man waved, even though he was only a couple feet away.
Belle went red. Her quick gaze bounced from this intruder, to Gold, and back again. "Will, hey, how are you?" She worried her lower lip.
Gold squinted. He wasn't a fool. Belle had a history with this Will. Will better not have hurt her in anyway. If necessary, he could kill Will in eighteen different ways using only his cane.
"Good, good. This is Ana." Will gestured to the blonde woman.
"This is…" Belle paused, uncertain how to introduce him.
"Gold. Mr. Gold." Gold supplied.
Will laughed. "Ha, like Bond, James Bond."
Ana rolled her eyes and linked arms with Will's. "Will, darling, no one watches that anymore." She said. "So Gold, like the pawnshop?"
"Aye." Gold licked his lips. "How is it that you all know one another?"
He had to know. He had no right to know; this was just a first date and an awkward one at that. But he couldn't imagine just walking away after this incredible evening. Something more had to come of his time spent with Belle French. He wanted to know everything about her and he realized that he wanted her to know everything about him too. It wouldn't be easy, but he was willing to give it a try.
"Will and I dated for a little while." Belle said. To Will, she started to say, "Will, Gold and I... we are..." She was at a loss for words, but her ex was able to read between the lines.
Will's eyes bulged. "Seriously? You and Mr. Gold?"
Gold counted to ten. His fingers were itching for his cane. Would this be how everyone responded to their relationship, in mockery? Relationship! What relationship? It was a date, yet he wanted so much more. He who openly scoffed at love. Love had never been in the cards for him and he had accepted that long ago, and here an hour or so after meeting Belle, he wanted to be with her. There was no middle for him; it was either one extreme or another.
Will bobbed his head. "Better treat her right, mate. You'll have to face me if you don't." He put up his fists and hopped from one foot to the other. "And I'm scrappy."
Gold coughed to hide his chortle. The man deserved a whollop for using the word "scrappy" alone.
Belle closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead.
Ana sighed. "Darling, don't be ridiculous. I am sure Mr. Gold is a gentleman." She nodded to them both. "We'll leave you alone now. Have a lovely evening." Taking Will's arm, she dragged him to the far end of the room.
Gold wanted to laugh more than anything, but seeing Belle squirming uncomfortably, he couldn't do that. Not to her. Still, there was no accounting for taste.
"So... that was your ex?" He concluded.
"Yes, he is." Her features tightened and she brought up her hand. "So, please spare me any witty remarks."
"Don't worry, dearie, you are safe from my judgements. You see, I have exes too. None so scrappy, but colorful enough. You seem on fairly good terms with him."
"We parted as, well, not as friends but we're not enemies either. Dating him was like dating my brother."
"And that would hardly suit your romantic sensibilities," Gold observed.
They each took up their forks and devoured the rest of the Death by Chocolate cake. She had a dark, chocolatey ring around her mouth that he'd love to kiss off of her, by that fantasy was spoiled by her using her napkin.
He pinched the bridge of his nose. This attraction he had to her was getting out of hand. Yet he was nowhere near ready for the date to be over.
#
Belle mashed her lips together.
Mr. Gold had a glob of chocolate on his blue dress shirt. She didn't have the heart to tease him about being a messy eater. Not after he kept his barbs about Will to himself. If she hadn't known better, she could have sworn that he was jealous. Of course, she didn't much like the idea of him having exes. The more time she spent with this man, the more she didn't want this evening to end.
He had promised her a tour of his shop, but after that they'd have to go their separate ways and for some reason, she didn't want that to happen. Perhaps she could hint around about coming back and he would offer her an invitation.
For all of his rough edges, he was a gentleman and this day in age, that was rare.
The waiter laid the bill down on the table and Gold snatched it up before she could lay a finger on it.
"I am paying for my own." Belle insisted.
Gold shook his head, holding the black folder out of her reach. "Absolutely not. Now, what kind of dinner companion would I be if I let my date pay for herself?" he asked.
Belle asked, "This is a date?"
Neither of them declared this a date, she hadn't even thought of it as one. Why would a man as powerful as he be interested in a simple, small-town librarian? Yet the second he called it a date, her heart fluttered. She liked him and hoped to high heavens that this wouldn't be a one-time thing.
Gold slid his credit card into the leather folder and handed it off to the waiter. "It is whatever you want it to be." The left corner of his mouth upturned, making him look years young and far warmer. "Keep in mind, we have had a riveting discussion about books and had a meal. Talked of how lonely we both are. Encountered an ex. We even shared a piece of chocolate cake. That sounds like a date to me."
"All right. You win." Belle threw up her hands. She folded her arms across the table and leaned in. "I still don't know your name, though."
Gold mimicked her movements. "Not telling." He winked and slid out of the booth.
The waiter returned with his credit card and bid them a good evening.
She hadn't noticed it before, since the table had blocked her view, but Gold had a cane with him. As he stood, he leaned upon it, favoring his right leg. The last thing she wanted to do was stare and make him feel uncomfortable, therefore she looked away.
Plucking the rose out of the water glass, she shook it free of droplets and tucked the stem of it into her hair.
He held his free hand out to her. "Ready to go?"
Belle grabbed her purse and "Daniel Deronda," placed her hand in his and followed him out of the restaurant.
Spring in Maine varied. The day had started off warm, but now that the sun had set, it had become a tad chilly and her fashionable little wrap didn't fend off much. Gold wasn't wearing a coat either and only had a suit jacket to spare, which she had too much pride to beg off of him.
As they made their way down the sidewalk, she could feel his dark eyes settled on her. It occurred to her that she had eaten most of that cake; perhaps she smeared some of it on her face. Or maybe a piece of parsley was stuck between her two front teeth.
Belle covered her mouth. "What? Do I have something in my teeth? Or on my mouth?"
"No, sorry." Gold looked away and directed his eyes out to the street. "I was trying to figure out how someone as lovely as you is still unattached."
The man was a walking contradiction. First he needled her about her romantic sensibilities and then paid her the best complement that she has ever received. Now he called her lovely.
Belle's face warmed. "I'm kind of odd. Most of the men I've come across, well, they're like Gaston. That's all there is out there for me. And I could never love someone who is that shallow. To me, love is layered. Love is a mystery to be uncovered."
Her eyes fell on him. Gold was layered… He was also a great mystery. And despite his thousand dollar Armani suits and expensive tastes, he was perhaps the least shallow person in Storybrooke. One look into his eyes, displayed for Belle depth than all of single men in this little town combined. Yet, he too was alone.
"What about you?" Belle asked.
Gold was quiet. She noticed that this was a habit of his. Whenever he received a personal question, he took a moment either to evade it or find the words that he needed. "I was married. We had to wed because of our son. It was the proper thing to do. Didn't work out though." Guilt written across his forehead, but he did not hide his secret shame from her. "Lately I was in a relationship, but it was on-again and off-again. Off permanently now. And now you're staring at me."
"Yes, I guess I am." Belle admitted. "I like looking at you."
Gold narrowed his eyes. He wasn't angry so much as perplexed. "No one has ever looked at me the way you have. Not even my wife," He confessed.
Belle frowned. She hadn't realized that she had been looking at him in a special way until he brought it up. She couldn't help it. He was not like other men who behaved ridiculously or showed off. He was serious; quiet; he knew what he wanted out of life and valued those who were important to him. What kind of woman had he been married to, that would make him feel he wasn't worth looking at?
"Her loss. You're a classy guy, Mr. whatever-your-name-is Gold." Belle told him.
With only the streetlights to illuminate the night, shadows played across his face once more. But she could have sworn that he blushed.
Gold inclined his head and lips parted a bit. Suspecting that he might kiss her, Belle was edging onto her tip toes when the doors of a nearby truck were flung open.
Gaston and crazy-eyed Zelena scurried out. Zelena was disheveled, her thick red mane wild. Gaston had smudges of red lipstick peppered across his face and neck.
Belle gasped and instinctively took a step back while. Without a word, Gold gasped her hand and gave it a comforting squeeze.
"Rummy, hi!" Zelena snickered. Her teeth had been stained with her lipstick too.
"Hey, babe!" Gaston waved stupidly. He noticed Gold holding Belle's hand and dropped his arm back to his side. He wrinkled his nose at her, sneering, "Man, you wouldn't come home with me, but you'll throw one over for the town monster. You sure aim high."
Belle protested, "That is not what this is. Mr. Gold is a gentleman."
Gold's fingers slipped from her grasp as he advanced towards the truck. Taking his cane, he smashed both headlights in. Glass flew everywhere. He stalked up to Gaston. Being a head shorter than the oaf didn't deter him.
Gold held up the handle of his cane for Gaston to see. "Now that will be your face, dearie, if you speak to Miss French like that again. Have I made myself clear? Now get."
Gaston gulped, nodded his large head and sprinted away the first chance he had.
Gold swung around and pointed at Zelena. "And you! If I catch you stalking either one of us- or my son, I'll skin you alive. Go on."
Zelena pouted, whimpering out a squeak. She scurried off after Gaston, her heels clicking on the asphalt.
Belle realized that she had been holding her breath the whole time and exhaled. This was the Mr. Gold that she had heard about; the one who everyone feared. While he threatened Gaston and Zelena both, she couldn't find it within herself to be afraid of him.
Gold looked embarrassed over his extreme actions, but approached her, cupping her elbow. "Are you all right? Here, you're shivering."
He removed his suit jacket and slipped it on her shoulders.
Belle managed a smile. "Thank you." She reclaimed his hand and loved how rough and calloused it felt against her softer one. "Mr. Gold, I hope that you don't think that I'm…that I want something from you. That I'm scheming or…"
Gold snorted. "No one could look at you and mistake you for anything but a good soul." The fierce expression was long gone and a softer one replaced it. "My shop is only a couple more blocks. Shall we?"
Belle slipped her arm through his. "Yes, I am looking forward to it."
She was more than relieved. Part of her worried that he would believe Gaston and would write her off with no more than a second thought. More than anything, she wished that Gaston and Zelena had not interrupted them. He appeared to be on the verge of kissing her.
What would his lips feel like on hers?
#
The bell jingled as he and Belle crossed the threshold of his antique shop. Gold flipped on the lights and stood back to watch her reaction. He was proud of his shop, his antiques and all that he accomplished in his life. But for some reason, he longed for Belle's approval of it all. This mere slip of a girl's appreciation would mean the world to him. That someone else –other than his son- could see the value of it all.
Belle disengaged from him and gazed upon it all; the art, the books, the jewelry, the dolls… Minutes lapsed before she turned back to him. "Wow. This is extraordinary. Where did you find everything?" Her voice was heightened by her enthusiasm.
"Estate sales, the internet, garage sales, other antique shops. May I show you something?" Gold motioned her back to the books. Using a key, he unlocked the curio cabinet and pulled out a three volume first edition of "Sense and Sensibility." He laid them out on top of one of the display cases. "It's not George Eliot, but something tells me that you'd like it."
Belle sucked in a gasp. "Breathtaking. May I touch it?"
"By all means."
She gingerly petted the covers, using long, languid strokes. "I want to cry and I don't know why." She said, her eyes shiny. "I never thought I'd be this close to a first edition of Austen. Thank you."
Gold cleared his throat. He'd give it to her in a heartbeat, but knew such a gesture would overwhelm her. Perhaps in time, if she wanted more with him, he could give her as a gift. A birthday or a Christmas present.
"Fancy a cup of tea?" he asked.
"Yes, thank you," Belle said.
Excusing himself, he hid in the little kitchen in the back. Tea was the pretense, but he was hiding like a little coward. He had his share of contact with women, albeit only two were romantic, but none of those had ever been like Belle. Whatever this was between them, he didn't want to screw it up. He wanted to do it right.
Gold returned with his favorite tea set, the pot full with the steaming brew. He was pouring her a cup when he saw that Belle was looking at a framed photograph of Bae resting on the counter. On the one hand he'd love nothing better than to introduce Belle to his son. How would they take to one another other?
He feigned a cough, which caused her to jump a little.
"Is this your son?" Belle asked.
"Well, it certainly isn't someone else's little spawn." Gold came up behind her and peered over her shoulder. "Aye, that is my Bae."
"Very handsome. I see where he gets his looks." Belle looked over her shoulder and back at him. "What- what happened to your wife?" She whispered in a soft, hesitant voice.
Gold didn't know what possessed him, but he found his hands on her waist first, then skimming her ribcage with his fingertips. He inhaled her scent, vanilla and lilac, and nuzzled her hair. "What happened is that I am a difficult man to love."
The spot where her neck and shoulder met was bare and too tempting to resist. He brushed his lips against it. Belle let out a small squeak of surprise.
He loosened his grasp on her.
She turned to face him, her color heightened. Her hand cupped the side of his jaw. Leaning in, she gave him a small brief peck on the lips.
"Those who are difficult to love need love the most," Belle said simply.
Gold froze in place. How long had it been since he had felt love or had given his love freely? The love he had for Bae was unconditional. How could a parent not love their only child? But what he was feeling now, this love for her, was so overpowering that he didn't know what to do with it.
He sputtered out, "Tea!"
"What?" Her brow crinkled. She removed her hand.
Gold backed away and hovered near the tea set. "The tea is ready."
In a flurried rush, he poured her a cup and swung around to give it to her. He had not realized she was standing so close, that he knocked his knuckles into her fingers. The cup dropped to the floor, the brew splashing everywhere.
Belle knelt to retrieve it and stood once more. There was a tiny chip on the rim of it. "Oh, dear. I am so sorry. I'll pay for it." She nibbled on her lower lip.
He took it from her and chuckled. "No worries, it's just a cup." He laid the chipped cup on the counter and was in the midst of preparing another one when he said, "Here, I'll get you another cup of marriage."
"Marriage?" Belle repeated.
Marriage! His bit down on his tongue. Had he actually said the word marriage? What was he thinking? It was merely a slip of the tongue, but he had meant it.
Gold took his time to turn around and face her.
Belle's expression was unreadable. Her wide eyes bore into him, as though she could see his soul. This poor girl… she had been a fine dinner companion and a friend even, then he had to go and mess it up by mentioning marriage. No doubt he had overwhelmed her.
Gold stumbled off, eager to put as much distance between him and her. He felt as though he was out of breath and he had not run for years. "Forgive me, I-I have to go. It's late and Bae has been alone long enough." He pointed at one of the antique clocks on the walls.
Belle nodded. "Right. Of course. Sorry, I'll get out of your hair." She hastened to the door, but paused before she departed. "Thank you for the dinner, Mr. Gold. Good night." She ducked her head as she slipped outside.
Gold cursed himself. Not only for dropping the word marriage, which ruined the evening, but for sending Belle off bewildered and confused.
She was all he had ever wanted. All that he had left was an empty heart and a chipped cup.
#
Gold never did retire. The second he got home, he slumped into his recliner in the living room and spent the remainder of the night cradling the chipped cup in his hands. His bleary eyes gazed upon it for hours, studying its perfections and imperfections.
In the span of a few hours, he had fallen in love. He, who never thought himself capable of being in love, was a complete goner. Luring Belle in via that book, he never had a chance.
Bae chose that moment to stumble down the stairs, rubbing his eyes. His floofy hair was a rat's nest. He stood before Gold, his brow furrowed. "Papa, did you ever go to bed?" His son pointed. "What is that?"
Gold ran his thumb over the broken rim. The cup was beaming at him like a toothless child. "My date chipped my cup." He said.
"Papa, if that's a euphemism for something sexual or drug related, I don't want to hear about it." Bae sat on the edge of the coffee table, his elbows on his knees. "I'll never be old enough for that."
"Smart ass." Gold put the cup on the end table. He wrung his hands, trying to come up with the right words to explain this to his son. It had always been his policy not to mention Cora… but then Belle was no Cora. "No, I just... last evening, I was in the company of a fine young woman and the whole time I felt, well, not alone. And now, I think I'm in love with her."
Bae studied him. A wide grin spread across his youthful face. "Okay, so what are you going to do about that?" he asked.
Gold sighed. What was he going to do about it, indeed?
#
Belle smiled shyly.
Ruby Lucas had swept into the library two seconds after the library had opened, bearing coffee from Granny's, demanding to hear all about the blind date. Belle could hardly contain herself until she related all that had happened.
Upon the conclusion of the story, her raven-haired friend's jaw dropped. "You're telling me, that you're in love with Mr. Gold? The Beast of Storybrooke? After one date?" She covered her mouth to conceal an impish giggle. "Damn, girl, when you fall, you fall hard. "
"Ruby, am I crazy? Maybe I got swept away with my emotions. He might not feel the same way. True love only exists in books, right?" Belle asked, gesturing to the numerous stocked shelves of the library.
She had tried to go to bed but no amount of tossing and turning or counting sheep could lull her to sleep. Her mind played the evening over and over again. It had been an odd sort of meeting…the kind that one would see in a classic movie.
A meet cute.
Mr. Gold barely let her in at all; she didn't even know his first name. However, in a few short hours- she had gotten a look at his heart and liked what she saw. He was not ridiculous like Gaston or Will; he was like no one she had ever met before. It was plainer than plain that she was in love with him; she more or less told him. He had accepted her little kiss and then shied away from her.
Ruby snorted. "The man asked if you wanted a cup of marriage. That's not exactly a slip of the tongue. Clearly it's on his mind too. Go over there and get your man."
Belle looked down. She couldn't just barge into the man's shop and pour out her heart to him. Could she? What if he laughed in her face or thought she was being sillier than a schoolgirl?
"Belle, come on!" Ruby grasped her shoulder and gave her a small shake. "You're not really living. You hide amongst your books and your movie adaptations and forget that there is a whole world out there. You dream of adventure; Mr. Gold is it."
"I don't know." Belle shook her head. "I'm scared."
Ruby gave her a sympathetic look.
#
Gold raised the ring to the light. The diamond was pure; the setting was wrapped in golden flourishes that resembled a rose; the band was reminiscent of a stem coiled in leaves. He put it in the bottom of the chipped cup, thinking it would be far better than a velvet ring box.
Despite his fearsome reputation around town, he was not a brave man, not when it came to matters of the heart. Bae had a claim on him, but that was it.
He cursed under his breath when the shop door opened and closed, jostling his bell. The last thing he wanted was to deal with one of the pesky locals of Storybrooke.
"We're closed, dearie." He said.
"That's too bad." A youthful feminine voice greeted him.
He whipped around and nearly dropped the cup again.
Belle was standing in the middle of the room, the sun reflecting from behind, bathing her in light. She offered him a small wave. "Hey."
"Hey yourself." Gold hid the cup in his suit jacket pocket and went to her. "I was about to come over to the library. We need to talk."
"Please, let me speak first." Belle took a deep breath and the words seemed to spill out of her. "I'm in love with you. That probably sounds crazy, since we just met last night, but I believe with all of my heart that it is true love. I mean, I don't know where in Scotland you were born or how old you are, or even your first name. But... I love you." Her voice cracked on the last three words from the onslaught of emotion.
Gold gazed at her, fully mesmerized. He raised his hand and ran his fingertips along her jaw. "I was born in Glasgow and I'm forty-seven years old. My name is Rumford. And I love you too, sweetheart." He brought his hand back down and dug around in his pocket and withdrew the cup. Holding it out to her, as though it were a ring box bearing a ring, he asked, "Marry me?"
Belle nodded, throwing her arms around his neck. "Yes!"
After they parted and he slipped the ring on her finger, Gold drew her closer. His mouth sought hers; her bottom lip slipped between his lips and he sucked on it.
"Today?" Gold mumbled against her.
Belle pulled back for a moment to say, "Yes." Then teasing him, she kissed him on his cheeks, his chin, the tip of his nose until finally he took initiative.
Gold framed the sides of her face and he claimed her mouth once more, his tongue seeking entrance into her mouth, which she permitted, with a welcoming sigh.
By the time they broke apart, she was panting for breath and he was lightheaded. "Right now?" he heard himself ask.
Belle nodded. "Yes. Let's go."
She held out her hand, which he gladly accepted, lacing his fingers through hers. Together they headed to the courthouse, onto their happy ending. They could wait to begin their life together.