CH 2
It was crisp and cold in the evening air. Very light snow flurries were carried passed the faces of the night walkers, but barely touching the ground before evaporating. There hadn't been a good snow the entire winter, so it was only a matter of time before the news started to warn them otherwise. You could feel it in the air.
The closing hour was upon him and Mr. Gold's Pawnshop was just getting its lights turned off and its front door locked. Mr. Gold pocketed his keys, tucked his scarf a little tighter and began the one block walk to the building on the corner.
It had been a month's long project with Belle, Anna to the rest of the town, to catalogue and organize the neglected library. Much like working in Mr. Gold's home, she had equipped an organizational method that, without public computers, was fine the old fashioned way. She had a manual card catalogue she updated and had plans on organizing the place on her own. The budget was limited on hiring an extra person, so for now, Belle would handle everything on her own. It was all a labor of love in her eyes.
That morning had started out as a wonderful day. After a month's long effort, it was the first day, for as long as Storybrooke residents could remember that the library was re-opening. The little local paper, The Mirror, was covering the story for the front page, complete with a gaggle of young students from Mary Margaret's class to be the first to walk inside. Several townsfolk were standing by, excited to see the newest addition, as Granny served complimentary donuts and coffee outside from a nearby table. The mayor, Regina Mills stood by watching; a faux grin across her lips that looked both pleasing and sinister.
Towards the back of the crowd, behind the school children, beyond Mayor Mills, behind Sydney Glass and after the local townsfolk, Mr. Gold stood quiet and reserved. Observing the early day's events from across the street, he spoke to no one and kept to himself. He leaned against his cane before him in a long black coat, scarf, gloves and sunglasses. He nearly went unnoticed, just a face in the crowd, until his beloved Belle looked up from across the way. Her eyes scanned through the crowd and finally they settled on him. They shared a silent exchange between the distance and with a sweet smile, raised two fingers to her lips and sent him a subtle kiss.
He was too entranced by his Beauty to notice Moe French walking up slowly to his right side like a frightened timid animal. There was no other way to redirect his attention, so the florist cleared his throat to make him known.
"Mr. French, yes what is it?" he asked, busying himself with the cuffs of his gloves as his True Love's father was requesting his time.
"Ah, yes," he said nervously. For a larger man than Mr. Gold, he seemed to be able to shrink to the size of a small barn mouse. "I just wanted to let you know," he cleared his throat again, "that I might be a little behind on the rent this month. You see-"
"And why is that, Mr. French?" Mr. Gold asked, now turning all of his attention to him and repositioning his cane with a loud thud on the pavement.
"Well, since Anna left, I've been very behind and I haven't been able to take in as many deliveries as I normally do this time of year. I'll only need a few extra days."
"Mr. French, I'm never one to allow any sort of leniency," Mr. Gold declared, glancing back to the library doors that were now open and allowing people to pass through. "However, your daughter did me a great service in my home and since this is her big day, I will grant this one time allowance."
"Thank you, Mr. Gold. Thank you!" Moe French said, stuttering like a small child.
"No later than a week, or my assistant will take care of the van for you."
Moe French said no more, he merely nodded and turned to quickly step away enroute towards the library. Mr. Gold remained where he was, not interested in mingling with many of the residents around him and carried on towards his own shop, preparing to open for the day. He would make his absence up to Belle later that evening.
The evening was quite brisk that night, chilly even; the sun had set within the hour. Mr. Gold made his way down the block, his cane thudding heavily on the ground announcing his presence to the silent street. He rounded on the library with the tall windows along the side of the building that let out the light from the inside. He reached for the handle and stepped inside.
He took in the smell of old pages, reminding him of the manuscripts he used to pour himself over back in his castle up in his work tower. It was warmer inside and the radiator just ticked on to balance the temperature as he stepped further inside. A little circulation desk was directly to the right upon entering and already it was littered with a stack of books that were obviously pulled out for her own perusal. He smirked to himself that this job was going to be the death of her, if she didn't pace herself.
"Hi!" the sweet voice called from his left. Mr. Gold turned around just in time to catch her bustling quickly passed him, setting down a stack of books she carried carefully in her arms like a cradled infant. Once the stack was settled and she could easily remove her hands, only hoping that her books wouldn't tumble across the table like a lost game of Jenga, she whirled around where she stood. Flashing him a bright smile, her eyes practically twinkled as she greeted him properly.
"Hello, Miss Librarian," he replied in a sultry low voice, keen on the affection she was giving him with soft kisses. As she nuzzled her nose with his sweetly, he whispered, "You know, Belle, you will have to learn some self-discipline."
"Hush, you," she chirped, kissing him once again to better distract him before she pulled away and smoothed down his tie.
Composing himself from his moment, Mr. Gold cleared his throat, shook out his shoulders and straightened himself out from the seductive haze she left him in. He took a few extra steps into the foyer as she busied herself again with her stack, taking in the new surroundings and appraising the place as the safe haven it was intended to be. As his eyes scanned over the linoleum floors, to the shelves and up to the artificial lighting, he couldn't help but feel so at peace with his Belle nearby. Her aura was enchanting, her scent was intoxicating and the gentle hum of her breath as she searched and cooed over a new literal discovery was enough for him. He watched as the pretty brunette revisited the circulation cart to collect books like a little butterfly looking for nectar, pushing the runaway wisps that framed her face. The scent of the aged pages still resurrected memories of his past life and as Belle busied herself around him, he could almost picture the two of them alone in his castle that probably sat in rubble.
He sighed contently to himself and asked aloud, "So, your first day was good, I take it?"
"It was wonderful!" she replied with excitement from two rows over. "The kids were amazing. They loved all the activities I had set up for them on the little tables and it was just so thrilling to watch," she came back to her circulation shelf, collecting a few extra books. "Don't worry," she winked, "I won't tell anyone that was your idea."
Mr. Gold nodded, pleased to know his secret soft spot for children would be safe with her, "So, I've come here to take you out to dinner."
Upon her disappearance behind another row, the clicking of her heels stopped abruptly and she threw herself in quick reverse. Still hugging books to her chest, she peered behind a row to see him standing in the aisle. "You mean, to a restaurant?" Mr. Gold merely nodded. Belle reversed her steps all the way and set her books down on the closest shelf she could as she slowly rounded on her older boyfriend. "Like a real restaurant...in Storybrooke?" He nodded again, repositioning his hands on the top of his cane, practically looking bored by her questioning. "Out in public?" This time he just raised his chin and tilted his head; his grey brown locks fell around his face like a schoolboy. She nibbled on her lower lip and smiled, "You're ready? You think we're ready to go public with us?"
He gave a mischievous smirk to assure her and said, "I think we've waited long enough for it to not seem too sudden." Nodding her head, Belle quickly whirled around to the back of the circulation desk to retrieve her purse and push in her chair. "Just one question, dearie," he asked, flourishing his fingers in an all too familiar manner. Belle looked up as she slid the strap of her bag over her shoulder as he pointed to the bouquet of flowers that sat in a crystal vase on her desk, "Who got you those?"
Belle looked away and sighed, "They came from Leo."
"Throw them out," he was quick to respond.
"No! Rumple, they're just flowers!"
"Throw them away, Belle," he repeated and retreated to the stern Mr. Gold that would not take 'no' for an answer.
Seeing the inner torment the gesture had caused, Belle walked back in front of him to speak to him rationally. Sadly, he wouldn't meet her eyes as she approached. Her intimidating beast bowed his head to her, making his words more of a request, rather a demand of her. Seeing the wounded animal quietly hearing his own voice, Belle shook her head and rested her hand over the pocket of his jacket, where his heart beat beneath.
"Rumple, they're just flowers. They don't mean anything. You have my word."
"They mean-"
"Shh," she said, holding a finger to his lips, taming the beast as best she could. "He got them for me with a heavy heart. They do not mean what you think they do." Her small sweet sincere smile seemed to reassure him, but he still remained stubborn like a child, or in this case, a jealous man. "I'm not Anna, anymore, Rumple. I am Belle and Belle loves Rumplestiltskin. There's no changing that."
She was a wise woman beyond her youthful years that made Mr. Gold and Rumplestiltskin feel like both the stubborn child and the angry, heartbroken old man. She balanced him and tamed him, just as the fairy tale was written. Beautiful where she stood, even in the static artificial lighting and making him feel undeserving for being at the other end of her touch, she always was the Princess he once met.
Her soft hand cradled his cheek and he placed his own over hers, nuzzling his face into her palm, "I'm sorry." He let her soothe him. "It's all still very hard to believe that you are here, forgive me." She shook her head and kissed his other cheek. "Then do me a favor?" Belle met his eyes, where he showed his cowardly colors. "Put them somewhere I can't see them?"
Her mauve colored lips smiled for him, nodding just slightly, "I'll do that." She removed her hand and adjusted his tie again, "Now, you were going to take me out to dinner."
He smiled sheepishly, somewhat embarrassed for his outburst, and instead of answering, he just nodded. He opened the door for her, allowing her to turn off the lights and lock up the library, and then promptly offered his elbow for her to link in. He watched as she took a big breath, bracing herself for their exposure and together they started the short stroll down the street to his car that was parked next to his shop.
0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0
They drove to a little French restaurant three streets over. Belle had never visited the restaurant, only heard of it, because it was a place she'd wanted to go with Leo. Fortunately, he never seemed to get it together to take her there, so it was even more special that Mr. Gold decided on it for them.
It was nothing for Mr. Gold to dress the part for her and act like the knight she deserved. Opening doors, pulling out chairs and offering his own jacket were manners he'd acquired and studied from years of solitude and observation of all the classes. Lucky for them he had already charmed her so many years ago; he still had every intention to "court" her properly, believing that she was still unattainable to the likes of him. After all, she did choose an imp over a Duke.
His entire demeanor was calm and content, whereas she was the complete opposite. He wore the mask well, should he even be half as nervous as she that the two were officially out in public together, rather than dining alone in his shop, his home, or in her apartment over the library. Just feeling his presence in close proximity was enough to send her reeling. Though she loved him completely, their public appearance had to portray a newly romantic couple rather than two already in amorous love. Mr. Gold was the far better actor and she was relying on him to guide her cautiously.
The evening dinner rush had come and gone and with the exception of only a handful of diners scattered around them, Mr. Gold and Belle were able to enjoy their meal without any interruptions. They were halfway through their roast chicken when Belle looked up just in time to catch Mary Margaret walking to the door, her purse clutched tightly under her arm. She looked like she meant to leave in haste, but what she really displayed was obvious guilt.
"Mary Margaret!" Belle called out with her fork still poised at her lips.
The school teacher stopped abruptly and looked up with a face of shock, dismay, guilt and finally defeat. She closed her eyes, obviously not wishing to be caught leaving the restaurant, but put on a fake smile, "Hello Anna." Mr. Gold's back was to Mary Margaret as she approached, but once Belle's dinner companion was revealed, she was somewhat taken aback. A quick glance to Belle's hand on the table covered casually with his was an obvious indication that their relationship was no longer platonic. "Mr. Gold?"
Mr. Gold felt a strong warmth encase his heart, for it was a proud moment displaying Belle, Anna, while he dined. He dabbed his lips with the cloth napkin that lay in his lap and lifted his wine glass in a brief toast, "Miss Blanchard?" A slight smirk teased at the corners of his mouth, knowing what he already knew of their scandalous affair.
Frozen where she stood, Mary Margaret's words came slowly, "I didn't know..."
"Mary Margaret, you forgot...your...sweater-" David Nolan came rushing from the back of the restaurant holding a baby pink sweater in his hands, immediately stopping once he noticed she was engaged with someone. After seeing who she was engaged with, he froze mid-step. He wasn't prepared to be seen out with the school teacher in a quaint little secluded French restaurant.
Mr. Gold set down his glass and resumed his meal, pushing a piece of meat into the juices that flowed from his rare steak. Under his breath, he whispered, "Told you so," loud enough for only Belle to hear him. It was heard with a swift kick to his shin under the table.
"David?" Mary Margaret feigned surprise to see David in the restaurant. It was a pretty lame performance, based on the fact he was still holding her sweater. Still, she carried on with the innocent charm with her big doe eyes, "I, ah, it's good to see you."
David was far from the improv performer that Mary Margaret attempted to be and instead of playing along, he just stood still like a deer in the headlights. Apparently, he believed that the more still he stood the less of a chance he'd be seen...standing four feet from their table...with a baby pink sweater in his hands.
"Ah, good evening, Mr. Gold," David said, managing it with a soft voice and low eyes. He clutched the sweater as if his life depended on it.
"So, you two are out having dinner together?" Mary Margaret said, trying to turn the attention off the obvious elephant in the room that she had just dined with David. Her face was bright and hopeful, but guilty nonetheless.
Mr. Gold barely stifled a chuckle, glancing towards the school teacher and patted Belle's hand he held on the table, "Yes, and unlike you, we have nothing to hide."
Belle's face turned sour, pulling her hand away and swatting his wrist like a child who had been disrespectful. Once scolded, she smiled for David and Mary Margaret, "Yes, we are. We're letting the cat out of the bag, per say. Let Storybrooke have their gossip."
"Oh, you're together-together?" Mary Margaret confirmed, clutching her handbag tighter, trying to fully absorb the scene unfolding before her and put her mind elsewhere. She would do anything to reverse their meeting.
Belle smiled, looking back at her dinner companion, "We are. But, sorry to keep you." She had to offer a smile to her otherwise nervous friend, "its okay, Mary Margaret, David. We'll not say anything."
As if a wooden post just hit David in the head, he reeled around dazed, as if his movement had given them away. Without another word, Mary Margaret smiled sheepishly, obviously embarrassed, took her sweater from David and walked out the door. It took a few seconds for David to acknowledge that he was standing alone and then just shrugged and slid his hands into his pockets, leaving Mr. Gold and Belle to their dinner.
"Well, that was awkward," Belle said, resting her hand back on the table.
"No, dearie, awkward would be if they told anyone where they saw us and didn't have a better response than what just transpired," he said with an arrogant cool. With an extra stab to his cut meat, he resumed his meal once again, as if he'd had no interruption. A few brown wisps fell into his sightlines and he gave a slight boyish flick of his head to clear the way.
Belle pulled a face, "So, then really, no one saw us out together, did they?"
"Now, you're getting it."
"Well, damn."
"Trying to advertise something, dearie?" he asked with a flair of haughtiness. "Showing off to the town that you've attained the nastiest man in Storybrooke over the whelp?"
With a slight tilt of her head, her eyes still looking at his smug smirk, she turned her hand under his and began to lightly caress the inside of his wrist. "If I recall, you came after me, Mr. Gold. Having a library built in your house? You might as well just left cheese crumbles for the little mouse to find the trap."
He chuckled under his breath, proud of himself, but still making better eye contact with his dinner. "Perhaps so. Maybe, the beast just wanted to lure his beauty to keep her locked away, after all."
"Not a chance, Rumple," she said while poking at her food and still running her fingers along his wrist, catching on the cufflinks of his shirt. "You let me go, because you loved me."
"I did and I do," he confirmed, setting his fork down to hold her hand between both of his. Seeing as it was a small round table, they weren't too far apart for him to lift her hand to his lips and leave a long pressured kiss on the back of it, proudly displaying his undying devotion. As he pulled away, his eyes glanced beyond Belle to see the Mayor, with the company of the local Sheriff, also taking their leave from the private, albeit quite popular, restaurant. "Now this, will out' us," he said with a gentle pat of Belle's hand. "Mayor Mills, what a fine night to see you," he called out as if to make them a display. The Mayor stopped abruptly and pursed her lips as her eyes narrowed in on Mr. Gold. "You remember Miss French, don't you, Madam Mayor?"
The two women met eyes, but it was Belle who was the softer one, having remembered their history together rather clearly. The women were cordial, but it was Sheriff Graham that extended a gentlemanly hand to Mr. Gold and a nod towards his date.
"How nice for the two of you to spend an evening here...alone," Mayor Mills forced out, trying to read the status of their relationship. Her words sounded forced, put on and as transparent as the color clear.
It was almost painful to watch the workings of Regina's brain through that pretty head of hers, but it was the sound of gears turning to decipher what exactly their relationship was. As if the hand holding was not a dead give away that the pawnbroker and the librarian were an item, it still stumped her whether their emotions were true towards one another and not just a ruse.
Though he enjoyed the Queen's discomfort immensely, he went ahead and clarified, "Oh, didn't you know? We're seeing each other these days." He could see her face pale upon hearing the words of their attraction. "Imagine that. A beautiful young woman, like Miss French, is smitten by the likes of me? Well, you'd think it was destiny, wouldn't you? Perhaps we knew each other in another life?" Belle smiled, glancing up towards the Queen in that "cat got your tongue" way. The expression on Regina's face was one that didn't know if they were "awake" or not. This made Belle very, very happy to play up.
"Yes, Mr. Gold," Regina purred with half a smirk tearing at her lips, "It is as if by fate she would find someone like you charming." Without another word, Regina bid both of them good night and carried on leaving the restaurant with Sheriff Graham quietly close on her heels.
"Now, my darling Belle," he said with a sneer, "we have been outed."
Though they weren't a featured article in The Mirror, the quiet rumor of Anna French and Mr. Gold being seen dining together traveled quickly through the small town. Their private life remained. Private in a world only known to them. There were whispers and a few odd looks, seeing as Anna and Mr. Gold were an unlikely pair, no one truly believed it unless they had been seen first hand either dining at Granny's or walking along the sidewalks on lazy Sunday afternoons.
Belle's relationship with Rumplestiltskin felt old, comfortable and nurtured. Though it still remained in its infancy, it appeared that their mistakes made together were lessons learned and Rumplestiltskin had a lot of time to reflect on his poor decision making. Having his beautiful Belle on his arm gave him strength, dignity and above all else, human confidence. Belle was still learning more about him, both as a man in Storybrooke and as the legend known as Rumplestiltskin, whereas he still found himself searching for the reasons behind her interests in him at all.
There was something rooted between them during their time spent in the Dark Castle. He had revealed a very private part of him unknown to anyone living today and he protected his weakness like a Dragon hording her treasured eggs. He had long since buried the human side of him, being burned by love long ago by a few people, he still wondered why anyone so pure would see any good left in him at all.
"Love is a mystery to be uncovered," she reminded him, joining him on the couch on a late Sunday afternoon. They had just returned from a nice peaceful walk together, arm in arm, just discussing what their morning had been like. She had made them both tea and was presenting his chipped cup carefully, wearing of it spilling on his tie. She had removed her shoes and folded her legs beneath her, making sure her shoulder barely touched his, in order to keep him close. "I've told you that, before."
His lips formed a slight thin smile and he gave her a side glance, displaying a slight shadow of the trickster, "I heard it the first time, but I still find you, and you alone, to be that mystery. I'm layered, sweetheart, like an onion and no one, not even a sweet woman like yourself wants to peel back any of those layers."
She giggled playfully, lifting her cup to her lips and tasting the sweet spiced tea she had brewed from fresh herbs and leaves purchased that afternoon. "The heart wants what the heart wants."
On February thirteenth, the night before Lover's Day, Belle went out on a Girls' Night with Ruby, Mary Margaret, and Emma for drinks at a local bar. Celebrating the female independence of Emma, Ruby, and Mary Margaret (though Belle knew of her secret), Belle couldn't turn down an invitation to stay close to the town's heart. That and Ruby loved dressing Belle up in her clothes like a doll.
The bar was busy, busier than usual on an average weekday night, but most of the town's merchandise was on the prowl. Ruby herself had chosen her most provocative red dress and red pumps, not leaving much to the imagination on whether she was wearing underwear or not and only because Belle had turned it down in less than nine seconds. Mary Margaret looked somewhat out of place appearing to be exactly what she was: a school teacher out on a school night having a martini. At least her sweater's buttons had been undone in order to show off something. Emma looked on her guard, as if at any moment she was going to have to put someone in a headlock that made a move on one of her friends.
Belle, Anna to them, just looked complacent. She was versatile enough to know which type to be, but this night she was just a woman with her friends enjoying the ambiance, some gossip and a mint chocolate martini. Her hand rested casually on the table and next to it was her mobile phone that proceeded to vibrate and alert her of a message. Trying not to be rude and escape from the company, she slid the small black phone off of the table and opened the incoming text message: Don't talk to strangers! Belle smiled, immediately replying: You were a stranger. Mr. Gold's reply: Yes, but now you have a cane wielding suitor. Belle's reply: Frankenstein is lurking about. Mr. Gold's reply: Tell him about my cane.
"What are you smiling about over there?" Emma asked, sipping her bottled beer while keeping an open eye about them. She extended a finger towards Belle, Anna, tilting her head as if to find out a secret she was hiding.
Ruby clucked her tongue in tease with a wide open smile, "Oh, it's probably him." Her white teeth and red lips were practically salivating over the juicy gossip she had been savoring since her accusation. With a sassy flair she picked up the shot of amber liquid that was sitting before her, knocked it back and grabbed the nearby lemon.
"Him, as in Leo? You're back together with him?" Emma inquired with a curious lifted eyebrow. Her mouth curved into a half grin.
Letting the burn coarse down her throat, Ruby breathed in a dramatic hoarse whisper, "Gold!" She shimmied with the aftershock, displaying the rush the liquid had over her and nearly howled through the sensation.
While performing as sheriff, it was imperative that Emma know the goings-on in the small town, however learning the social relationships between individuals was not always information she was privy to. Case in point: the young pretty librarian was seeing the town's most dubious, albeit older, pawnbroker with an angry streak. This provoked a slight headshake from the blonde.
Mary Margaret set down her own martini on the square napkin, "Still with Mr. Gold?" She hadn't referenced when it was she first learned of their relationship, for her secret with David Nolan was still very very private. Instead, she feigned polite surprise.
"Yes," Belle smiled, setting down her mobile phone after sending double X's to the recipient. "Why is that so surprising?"
"Why?" Emma mocked, repeating herself again, "Why? Anna, he's kind of a scrooge."
"He is not," Belle declared, "He happens to be a very gentle man."
"Do tell," Emma pressed, leaning on her elbows and wanting to hear the reasons why anyone could possibly be drawn to the strange man that worked his own long hours penalizing day late payments and striking the whisper of fear to so many in that town. With a lick of her lips, she narrowed her eyes on the brunette, "Is it his money?"
"Absolutely, not!" Belle was nearly offended, but excused her new friend for her ignorance on Rumplestiltskin. "RUM-Mr. Gold," she quickly corrected, "is a very sweet, albeit private, considerate man. I'm sure you probably don't see what I see, but then I wouldn't expect anyone to see what I see in him."
"I'm sure he has some great qualities," Mary Margaret intervened, trying to calm the situation, before it escalated. Under her breath before sipping from her martini, she quietly added, "Albeit, unique ones."
"And who...," without an invitation, Dr. Whale swooped in and took residence in the fifth open spot at the tall cocktail table, "would we be talking about?" He shrugged his shoulders, appearing bold and available should he see an open target, meeting each and every set of woman's eyes with animalistic intent.
"Gold," Ruby replied, just reaching for another lemon to follow her shot. Her bright red lips practically devoured the fruit as her white teeth gnawed at the pits.
"Gold?" he asked with sheer abhorrence dripping from his tone. "And why would he come up at a table of such gorgeous women?" The man sipped his drink as if he owned the bar; confidence hidden by the liquid courage he had partaken prior to walking into the wolves' den.
"He and Anna are dating," Emma croaked, shaking her head and taking another drink in order to believe the words from her own mouth.
Missing his mouth upon taking another drink, Dr. Whale blinked a few extra times, his lips parting an quickly grabbing a napkin to dab at the few drops that had fallen on his shirt. Wiping away, he looked up to one of the prettiest brunettes in Storybrooke, "Come again?" He wiped furiously, nervous and in near disbelief that she would be wasted on such a...such a... well, a man with a rather poor reputation. "Anna, are you really seeing that guy?"
The opportunity had presented itself to keep the girls in check and send Dr. Whale reeling. Very carefully, as if planning her next move for a strategic game, she sipped her martini and placed it gently back on the napkin. She folded her hands on the table before her and settled in to tell them all a story, while her eyes focused solely on Dr. Whale.
"I really, really am," she started, her voice low like she was beginning to enchant him with a hypnotic spell with the rhythm of her voice. "We realized that we just couldn't keep our hands off of each other and one day, in his shop," she emphasized every word very carefully, making her lips pop or smooth at the right syllable, "we just couldn't take it anymore. He threw me down on his desk, tore at my dress, ripped off my panties and made love to me right there amongst all the antiques, dust and old books." Her audience of three women and one man was drawn in, rich and deep. They hung on her every word, both disgusted and somewhat intrigued, waiting to hear more of Anna's juicy details. "Our bodies all hot and sweaty, making me quiver from my teeth to my toes," she embellished, closing her eyes and allowing herself a slight shimmy, as if shaking off the afterthoughts as her tale wound its legend. Once it was enough to hear a pin drop and she saw the Doctor hanging on her every word, her mouth curved almost cruelly, "What can I say? I'm a glutton for punishment, I guess." And with that, Belle picked up her martini glass and took a nice long sip, licking her lips of the sweet taste and giving herself a light fanning with her own hand.
Swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat, Dr. Whale finally remembered how to breathe, picked up his glass and shrank away from the table in a dreamy haze, starting into nothing. The girls around her started to snicker, giggling on their own, covering their mouths before opening up their laughter to straight stomach clenching cackling.
"Well, that got him to leave," Belle chirped, flourishing her hands as if to bow after her performance. Much like another trickster she knew.
The girls' laughing began to subside and little by little the pauses between their gasps slowed to almost silence. Feeling the curiosity thick like fog, the pixie-cut raven tread carefully by asking, "Anna, that's not how it really happened ...did it?"
Belle's finger slid around the rim of her glass and with a slight wink to her friend, she added, "A lady never tells." She raised her glass in cheers, allowing the women to come up with their own conclusions, while lying through her teeth. She and Rumplestiltskin hadn't even been to bed together.