A/N: Thanks to everyone who has reviewed and has been enjoying the story as much as I have been enjoying writing it! So much stuff is going on and it's getting kind of crazy long, at this point, but Belle is sassier, Mr. Gold is bolder - and everything is looking up! Hope you guys like this one!
When she walked into the club the next day, everything seemed substantially different, and yet, completely the same. She stepped out of the car, thanking Hongrois for the hundredth time, to which he replied the same way each time: "No need to thank me, Miss." The only difference was, this time he smiled – a small thing, no teeth showing, just a vaguely upturned corner of his lips to signal that he knew and appreciated it – probably didn't get much thanking from Gold, and then busied herself with running through the glass doors in a whirl of sea green skirt.
She wasn't early today, at least not as early as the previous day and some of the girls were already there, tittering with one another. Belle dropped into her usual seat, more rested than usual, and Ruby immediately plopped down next to her. "Where the hell were you last night?" she hissed through her teeth, eyebrows drawn in and lips pursed.
Belle blinked her coat not even off – purse not even in her locker and tilted her head at Ruby. "What do you mean? I was at home." It was strange, how easy lying became the more and more you did it. But, it wasn't only for her sake she was lying – Mr. Gold had a reputation, she had a job that needed protecting, and friends that needed protecting too. Working at the Playboy Club wasn't exactly the safest option for any young woman; she didn't need to shove any of the others in the way of trouble.
"You were supposed to work," Ruby frowned, "And you weren't here to hear! Sue got the cover," her shoulders drooped with a sigh. "I was sure you or Ashley were going to get it! I'm sorry," she put her hand on Belle's knee and Belle smiled placing hers atop the cherry colored nails.
"It's alright," she smiled, not wanting to upset the girl. "Sue will do us all proud," she nodded, truly meaning the words, despite Ruby's baleful look and the roll of her eyes. "Don't be like that," she disentangled their hands and tapped Ruby's bare knee just a little harder than she needed to, "Be gracious and maybe it will be your turn next time."
Ruby huffed, making a sound similar to that a horse might and withdrew her hand, leaning back. "So, what did you do instead last night? Big night off – how'd you spend it? Please," her voice dragged, eyes wide and expectant, "don't tell me you stayed home. Please?" she whined.
Belle laughed, shaking her head at Ruby. The poor girl couldn't - wouldn't even know half of it. "Sorry to disappoint, Ruby," she smiled softly, "but I just made dinner and then had tea." That was true – at the very least, and Ruby sniffed, shaking her head, declaring Belle was wasting her life on dinner and tea and could have actually had fun for once – which would have been true, if that was all there was to it.
But it wasn't, was it? There were moments with Mr. Gold, some pleasant, some tense, and all confusing beyond reason, which made it a as untypical a night 'at home' could have been. But, to Ruby, to anyone she told, it was going to sound like the life she kept her normal routine.
Letting out a deep sigh, Belle swiveled in the mirror to touch up her make-up. It wasn't so hard, to be on top of her usual, even with her secrets. It was the same brush of eyeliner, the same dab of rouge, and the oh-so-familiar stroke of lipstick. Everyone else was going about their business, hairspray and perfume floating around the backroom before Regina's voice barked for them to come out to the floor for the Bunny Meeting.
It was a weekly event based on torture. Regina dragged them out, gave them the weekly news, and delighted in ripping them apart, when she felt the need. Belle had a distinct fear Regina would feel the need today – and Belle would be a target.
Steeling her nerves, Belle stood straight and walked out onto the floor with the other girls, sitting with Ashley, Ruby, and the newly entering Mary Margaret, who she directed very small wave to before Regina immediately started. "It's been a busy week, ladies," she announced in that clear, crisp voice, "With many ups and downs," she looked several people in the eyes at this point, Belle could only tell who she was looking at when their own eyes met. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat.
"First, I'd like to say congratulations, once again, to Sue, for being Mr. Heffner's choice model for the cover." Everyone obliged with a round of applause, even Ruby who only half-heartedly put her hands together for the beaming young woman. Belle was happy for her, really, but Mary Margaret reached over and squeezed Belle's shoulder, thinking she was comforting her.
Mary Margaret was perhaps the sweetest person Belle knew and she smiled at her over her shoulder, at least until Regina took a few sharp steps forward, her dangerously high heels smacking against the dance floor's surface. "Though, I must say, despite that brilliant performance, some of you bunnies," her eyes slid straight toward Belle, who refused to sink in her seat, "have failed to meet expectation this week." Her piercing gaze was removed from Belle and turned on the group at large, "Can anyone tell me what the three most important rules here at the Bunny Club are?"
Belle's intention may not have been to slink down into oblivion, but she certainly wasn't going to answer the one question she was probably guilty of breaking on so many levels. Swallowing hard, she looked around almost in tandem with Regina. Extending a long, elegant hand, Regina pointed into the crowd, "Tia, enlighten us, please."
The brunette looked shocked for a moment before she sat up, clearing her throat. She didn't look thrilled either, to be honest – probably still sore about the cover, she really wanted it, but she wasn't going to upset her. "Well, first rule is never give out your information – full name, phone number, address – anything – to a club member."
Regina nodded and put her hands on her hips. Tia, apparently, was expected to continue. Belle's stomach twisted anxiously, rule one: broken. "Second rule," Tia continued, "is to never take information from club members." Rule two: very much broken. "and lastly, a Bunny can never – ever – get involved with a club member." Rule Three: Ambiguously broken, at best. Involvement in some capacity, though Belle was certain she couldn't define it in any meaningful way.
They had an arrangement, they danced around one another, and Belle found herself wanting to win his favor – if she had lost it, she found it exceedingly hard to tell. Even as she woke up before him to make breakfast, and laid it all out, he just seemed surprised, and insisted over and over that she didn't have to do that. Belle was beginning to think that he didn't believe her when she said she wanted to.
She did, truly. Being useful was something she liked, and keeping busy was good for her. She hated being idle, and if she was awake, per her normal schedule (and an exceedingly early and much needed turn in from the night before), Belle had wanted to. She even made him a lunch to take to the office, which was met with an increased sense of surprise. If not for the fact he wouldn't go home before he came to the club, Belle would have pre-made dinner too.
Instead, she spent the better part of the day turning into a prune in the bathtub with a book she found in the living room. It was a law book, somewhat dry, but Belle had never given much thought to the law. Criminal proceedings sounded interesting enough, and despite it's somewhat dry beginning, Belle found herself very interested in research, facts, and eye witnesses by the time her hours of bath had truly turned her into a soggy prune and forced her from its confines to come to this place, where Regina was staring them down and the warm slosh of bathwater seemed like a distant memory.
"You're right, Bunny Tia," her oily voice was loud, attention grabbing, and Belle shifted uncomfortably in her seat as Regina looked around the room, her gaze stopping and baring into her. Could she know? How would she? Belle's stomach tied in knots, but she kept her composure and Regina moved her eyes. Maybe she was testing Belle out, trying to gauge her. "Only one Bunny can smoke on the floor at a time," she reminded them, "and no drinking – not even water! A patron can't tell water from vodka or juice from whiskey, and you don't need to look like drunks." She appeared to be giving a rather hard look to the mousey girl in the pink suit, who lowered her eyes in shame.
Regina seemed to know everything. It was enough to make Belle want to walk straight out of this meeting. But that would be even more suspicious than the incessant chewing on the inside of her cheek. And Regina continued, "But the real reason we are meeting today, is to cover the upcoming week. Ike and Tina Turner are playing at the club this week," a murmur of excited approval rippled through the crowd of bunnies, "and to let you girls know, Mr. Heffner himself will be coming into the club this week, to celebrate Bunny Sue. Wednesday night – two days from now – will be the most exclusive night at the club. High profile key holders only – by invitation. Everyone will be expected to work," she informed them in a tone so hard she couldn't have been joking, "No excuses."
Belle sucked in a deep breath. She didn't even need to wonder if Mr. Gold would be in attendance, and glancing back at Mary Margaret, she knew her friend's beau – young and strapping James Charlton – would be there too. The vibrating excitement was tangible in the group of bunnies.
Belle, admittedly, was a little excited too. An all-exclusive night with all of the bunnies on call? She'd have a limited section, she'd be able to linger and chat – the tips would be high. Even if it was all hands on deck, they'd still make a killing. Exclusive clientele liked to throw their money around. That fifty dollar bill weighed heavily in her purse, still.
It seemed like that was all Regina needed from them for the time being though, and Belle was glad for it. They were sent backstage and told to get ready for the evening, dismissed with a final, definitive wave of her elegant and gloved hand. She was the only one who wore gloves – probably thought she was too pristine to touch anything in there. Belle could have rolled her eyes, but she refrained, just pushing herself up and heading backstage.
It was at this point that Mary Margaret gave her an appropriate welcome – a big hug and apologized, fully, that she had not made the cover, turning her head to drag Ashley into the same hug, with the same words. "I really thought I had it," Ashley whined, scuffing her shoe against the floor. "At least me, or Belle," she said graciously, though Belle could see very little sincerity in it. She didn't mind, she knew Ashley wanted it.
Belle smiled, just a little bit, and shook her head. "I didn't want it," she admitted, earning the stares of the girls in front of her, and Ruby to clamor over, all silently asking the same exact question: Why? "It just… wasn't for me," she shrugged, not wanting to press the issue, really. "But I'm happy for Sue," she could see her and her group on the other side planning whatever it was they were planning, "and hope that if the contest ever comes around again, one of my beautiful friends will make the cover," she smiled brightly, and not even Ruby could come up with a response to that.
It was enough for Belle, for the moment, and she moved to the rack of costumes, finally resolved on getting ready now. Her gold suit was ready and waiting and Belle couldn't help but being pleased. A strange sensation hit her chest when she realized this was the suit Mr. Gold had pressed her up against the wall and kissed her in. A secret sort of pleasure filled her mind and she went about getting ready, humming along with the radio one of the girls must have turned on.
When the night finally started and all the girls were in their suits, done up like they always were, and the lights went out – restoring some of the mystery and charm to the place, whatever unique charm it did have. But Belle adjusted her collar and cuffs, slipped her feet into her gold heels and was ready to go out. Ruby slipped her arm into Belle's and giggled softly, "Ready to hit the floor, love?" she giggled.
Belle wrinkled her nose, "As ready as I ever am." Both girls laughed together and split apart as they walked out of the backstage doors. Each had their own job to do, Ruby lighting fires, and Belle delivering the liquid relief. Where Ruby bounced, Belle sauntered, and headed back to the bar. There weren't many patrons yet, and she leaned against it. "Haven't heard much from Ashley recently," she leaned on the bar, "How's it going Sean?"
He withdrew her tray from behind the bar and sighed. "I sent her flowers, and I didn't get them back, so I think it's a good sign," he smiled a lopsided sort of smile and rubbed the back of his neck. "She hasn't said anything, huh?"
Belle tilted her head, a sympathetic expression coloring her face. "It might be a good sign," she offered, "at least she's not complaining about you anymore," she smiled and his face dropped. Apparently Sean did not have the sense of humor to handle even the gentle prods of Belle French. "Don't look so upset, Sean. Just woo her – do something special, a grand gesture, maybe?" she smiled encouragingly and Sean shuffled his feet, shoulders dropping.
"I guess," he shrugged with an awkward smile, "If you get any ideas," he added, "I'll be here all night." He motioned to the whole bar wit his arms wide open, and Belle started to laugh, which put a smile back on his face. "Have a good night, Belle. See ya around."
Belle leaned up and over the bar, pressing a very light kiss to Sean's cheek. "If I get any ideas, I'll be the first to let you know," she smiled and turned with her tray, ready to head right into the fray – time to earn those tips. Every night she worked hard here was one she might not have to spend working her tail off (pun not intended) while she went back to college.
Walking away from the bar, Belle didn't think much of it, at least not until she glanced around the club and caught the eye of one very surly looking patron. Mr. Gold's shoulders were drawn up and his eyes might as well have been on fire. Belle's insides twisted, and she wondered if it was something at work that had upset him. He was sitting alone; maybe he'd be her first stop.
Making a b-line straight for his table, Belle smiled. "Mr. Gold, good to see you tonight," she smiled easily and stood on the other end of the table, one hip popped out.
He looked at her with the sharpest look she had ever seen, his fingers flexing over the head of his cane. Her cheeks started to burn, and Belle's smile wavered. "Belle," he wasn't happy. Belle thought showing up might rectify that – it only seemed to deepen the lines in his forehead and his frown. "Scotch, if you would."
"Of course," she tried to quirk a smile, but now that she was… involved so to speak, she had to take a peek around, looking for any sign of Regina – she didn't appear to be out yet, Belle leaned over the table, getting eye level with him. "What's the matter, Mr. Gold?" she asked concern evident in her voice.
She could practically hear his teeth grinding against one another and it made her stomach twist. It was a sound akin to nails on chalkboard and he was looking at her so fiercely, the two things combined might have just killed her. "What was that about?" his lip curled, and Belle blinked.
"What was what about?" she countered, leaning back from him, still bracing herself against the table.
Mr. Gold, in response to her pushing away, pushed himself up and leaned forward. They were hardly a hand's length away from one another – no Bible space between them like her Catholic middle school dances – and she was forced to look into his dark brown eyes, gold glittering in the dimly lit space. "At the bar, that little display. What was that about?"
That certainly took Belle by surprise. Her eyebrows drew in, and instead of feeling flattered that he seemed to be jealous over nothing, she was quite perturbed. "It was nothing," she shot back, "What do you mean 'display?' That's ridiculous."
He bristled. Mr. Gold was not happy, but he didn't have to be. Belle was her own woman. If he wanted to make a big deal of nothing, he could. "It didn't appear to be nothing," he lifted his hand under her chin, forcing her to look at him, and Belle's jaw tensed instinctively.
"Just a friend," Belle twitched her hips agitatedly, shifting weight from one foot to the other. He said she didn't need to be babied, and yet, here he was, watching her like a hawk, showing up when there wasn't even a crowd, and she was sure he'd stay all night. "And if you think it's okay to make accusations," she wrenched her chin away, and to his credit, Gold did not stop her, "I'll set your table up with Ruby or Winifred, whoever you'd prefer."
Her strong eyes met his and they stood at an impasse. Belle was not going to back down, and he looked as resolute as ever. But, she was in control here, this was her work environment, and she felt the need to add, "As it is, Regina is watching my every move – so if it was something, she'd know and have fired me already." His face softened slightly, and he sat back down.
It was an immediate rush – the power she just felt – cowing Mr. Gold back into his seat. She didn't have any power, and yet, she got Mr. Gold to sit down and not aid Regina in finding any reason whatsoever to fire her, at least more than she already had and Belle straightened up – glancing around again, satisfied that Regina wasn't in her line of sight. "That scotch, Belle?"
She nodded and walked around the back of the booth, trailing her hand over the top edge. "On it, Mr. Gold," she smiled as she leaned down behind him, dropping her voice to a whisper, "I told you yesterday, you don't have to baby me." She started to push herself away, but Mr. Gold put his hand over the cuff on her wrist.
She stilled, looking down at him with big, confused eyes. He looked up, a growl building in his chest. "Did I ever tell you, Belle, how much that color suits you?" his eyes were darker than they had been a couple of moments ago.
Belle's cheeks colored and she licked her lips – his eyes immediately jumping downward and his hand tightened around her wrist. Belle let out a shaky breath, and tried to smile. "You're too kind, Mr. Gold."
"Not kind enough by half," he retorted, pulling her hand away from the edge of the seat and toward his face. He turned her palm upward, Belle's fingers trembling anxiously as he placed a warm, dry kiss on the inside of her palm that made her insides twist most uncomfortably. His other hand pressed something into the palm of her hand, and Belle could have laughed. Of course, his method of delivering any bit of correspondence was going to be with inappropriate displays of affection without any base.
She wrapped her hand around the little piece of paper in her hand and smiled, "You don't give yourself enough credit," she giggled and Mr. Gold sat back down, sated. She slipped the paper onto the tray though; she'd look at it while she was waiting for Sean to pour the glasses, even if her burning curiosity meant she wanted to read it right there and then.
Ruby, however, was quick to come over and whisper harshly, "Is Mr. Gold bothering you? Should I tell Regina to kick him out?" For being only seventeen years old, Ruby had a host of bravery stored somewhere, and she was willing to go straight up to anyone and tell them the deal, even Regina, who Belle chose to avoid like the plague.
Of course, Belle couldn't truly be honest with Ruby – no matter how much she might have wanted to be honest with anyone. It wasn't possible though. She just shook her head, "You know how guests are," Belle shrugged her shoulders. "He was just telling me how he liked my suit."
Ruby rolled her eyes. "You don't have to be a hero," Ruby informed her, "Regina would kick him out for you. Or we can switch you out."
"No," Belle said a little too forcefully, enough that Ruby's eyebrows perked up and her face screwed. Breathing in deep through her nose, Belle sighed, "I mean, it's fine. Don't worry, Mr. Gold is all talk."
"Didn't look like it," Ruby muttered and regarded Belle with a skeptical, but caring looking. "Just, if you need anything, wave me over?" Belle nodded, wanting her friend to stop worrying, but also stop prodding. It wasn't something she wanted getting around, the more people knew, the more likely it was to get to Regina – or worse – the man, Todio, who had threatened her.
Ruby left her be, and Belle's shoulders dropped, glad to move on to the rest of the tables. As she walked between the tables, Belle's smile became wider, more relaxed, and she forgot just how comforting a place like the Playboy Club could be. No one wanted to really know her; she was perfectly anonymous under a gold suit. She took orders, talked without purpose, and eased around the place with confidence she hadn't felt for days.
Leaning against the bar as Sean filled up the glasses, one by one, Belle finally took the piece of paper and unfolded it. "Alley – 10 PM. Take your break. – R.G." And that was all. A meeting in the alley? Belle's brows furrowed, but she tucked the piece of paper in the side of her suit, not wanting to lose it, or have it found by anyone else. If this was a similar meeting to last time, Belle's cheeks burned. She was on probation. She knew she hadn't necessarily said that in so many words to Mr. Gold, but she had hinted… hadn't she? Hopefully no one would remember that she didn't actually smoke. Everyone did these days though, and it'd go without notice. It certainly had the other night.
Pleased with herself, Belle crossed the floor, delivering drinks from table to table, smiling and chatting, wrinkling her nose at Mr. Gold as he actually thanked her for the drink, something he seldom did, and informed her that she might want to bring five glasses for the associates joining him this evening. She took note and agreed that she would, making a loop through the front of the band that was playing some kind of swinging jazz that seemed a little older than what was typically played, but it was still early, and Belle didn't mind.
She hummed along casually, recognizing it from her father's collection, but was stopped by a strong hand on her arm. Belle blinked, and turned her head, looking straight into the face of Mr. Barker – Todio – whatever he was going by. He had thick, black hair that was slicked back by grease, and his whole suit was dark. His crimson tie looked menacing, whereas Mr. Gold's tended to only look sophisticated. "If it isn't our very own bunny with big ears," he reached up and tugged on her curled, golden ear headband.
Belle took a deep breath, quirking a small smile. "Hello Mr. Barker," she tried to sound neutral, though she wondered on what side he was holding whatever silver glinting object he had flashed at her in the car, and if he had any designs on doing the same tonight.
"Care for a dance, Bunny Belle?" he moved the tray out of her hand, and clearly wasn't asking. It was very public, the club wasn't nearly full yet, and there was virtually no one dancing, but Belle felt pigeon holed. She nodded, wordlessly, though attempted to smile. It seemed to placate him and the tray was abandoned as Belle was pulled onto the floor.
His hands were large, and he pressed her close. Belle sucked in a breath as his hand spread across her black, seemingly covering all of her, as the other clutched onto her hand. There was nothing soft or intimate about this, and Belle gulped. "You know," he smacked his lips, and Belle tried not to wince. His breath smelled, not like whiskey or honey, but acerbic, and it felt like it burned her nose hairs, "Did you make the cover of the magazine, Ears?"
The nickname was not affectionate, he was bristling, and Belle hated the tension almost as much as she hated the closeness. The way his hands grasped at her, possessive and threatening. He was unrelenting. "No, Sir," she ducked her head, trying to breathe air that was fresh, untainted, but even lower, his heavy cologne assaulted her.
"Such a shame," he muttered, gripping her tighter, his nails digging into her wrist. Belle wondered what she had done tonight to deserve such inappropriate contact. "Couldn't be because you weren't pretty enough," he smirked, releasing her wrist and tilting her chin up, "You just… find your way under everyone's skin, don't you?" he laughed low and gravelly. Belle didn't find his gravelly laugh attractive though, it was scary.
She lowered her head and tried to duck away. Instead of letting her go, Todio grabbed her chin forcefully. "You haven't forgotten what I told you, did you, Ears?" he looked straight into her eyes – all black and dark, full of promises of unsaid violence. Belle shook her head, vehemently, just to prove she wasn't one to forget, and she wasn't going to say anything. "Good," he leaned closer, and Belle stiffened. "I'd hate to have the club lose such a gem."
When he moved to press his lips against hers, Belle turned her head, catching his wet, cold lips on her cheek with a lurch in her stomach. "I'm sorry, Sir," she tried to excuse herself, "I have drinks to deliver. Thank you – for the dance," she willed herself to avoid tears, and Todio stepped back, eyes dark and expression something akin to a glower. She hated that look.
His eyes trained on her as she scurried away, trying not to trip in her shoes. She was shaken, her knees were clacking, and she grabbed her tray, and exited the floor. It was barely nine and she was already having another rough night. She hoped the money would be good, or she really need to just find another job. Glancing over her shoulder, she tried to search for Mr. Gold, but he was out of his seat.
Belle wondered where he could have gone – probably the men's room, she reasoned. It would be her luck that the only person who might have actually helped her wasn't watching. Though, she supposed it was mitigated by the fact Regina didn't swoop down on her and kick her out. Sighing, Belle caught a break twice – she wasn't sure if she would get lucky a third time.
Belle just had to do her best to keep it together, despite Mary Margaret's concerned look, and Ashley's grousing as she passed. Apparently she was back to talking about Sean. Well, something had happened. There was no use in asking at the moment, Belle had drinks to deliver and she wanted to avoid being alone – or anywhere she could be cornered again.
It wasn't hard, as the club began to fill up. She did her best to avoid the table, though as she caught Mr. Gold's eye, she couldn't help but feel badly that all she did was a cursory glance at the table to refill their glasses when they needed it. She didn't have to talk to them, she knew, but Mr. Gold hadn't done anything wrong, but the man next to him – it made Belle's stomach turn that they were that close to one another. She wondered what on Earth they could be talking about, and of course, thought better of her curiosity. 'Ears' was not a flattering nickname and she wasn't keen on keeping it.
Sucking in a deep breath, Belle just wanted to go back to the penthouse. She just had to make it until ten. Then she'd go outside, get a breath of fresh air, and maybe Mr. Gold would have something to tell her. Maybe he had planned for all of this – though she couldn't imagine him wanting Todio to grab her – he flared at her kissing Sean's cheek. Belle didn't understand it, but she couldn't help but feel maybe he was jealous. She didn't know why.
Everything was so confusing. Glancing at the clock behind the bar, Belle was just glad it was 9:58. Dropping off the tray, she informed Sean she would be back in fifteen minutes, and walked backstage, informing Winifred to keep an eye on her section while she took her break. This time, she slipped off her heels and put on her own shoes as she tugged on her coat. "Where are you going?" Tia asked, her feet dipped into the ice bath the girls commonly used.
Belle gasped and color rose to her cheeks. "Smoke break," she practically squeaked, and Tia looked right at her – eyebrows drawn in and mouth in a hard, straight line. She didn't seem to believe her, but she kept quiet and Belle smiled, "I'll be back in fifteen, I promise," she added and disappeared through the doors to the back stairwell.
Withdrawing the paper from the side of her suit as she hit the first landing, she looked at it again, just to make sure, and kept her feet quickly moving down the steps. Her heart thrummed in her chest, and she poked her head out at of the door at the bottom of the stairs – an instant smile on her face when she saw Mr. Gold standing there. Belle slipped out of the door with an exasperated sigh, whispering. "If I get caught, I'm as good as fired," she pointed out.
He nodded, though she doubted he actually understood. "We'll make this quick then," his voice was low and he moved closer to her. Belle raised her eyebrows, and retained her smile. She didn't feel like he was Todio, Mr. Gold didn't want to hurt her. If he did, he would have last night. "What did Barker have to say to you?" he asked – Belle's insides tightened, so he did see.
Belle licked her lips, "He asked me if I remembered what he told me, and he started calling me Ears." Mr. Gold searched her face; he knew she wasn't telling the whole truth. "He asked me why I didn't get the cover," her eyes and voice dropped at the same time, "Said I was getting under everyone's skin." She bit the inside of her cheek, daring to look up and was surprised at the anger, blazing in Mr. Gold's eyes. "He tried to kiss me."
She was certain she could hear Mr. Gold's teeth grinding now. It was an unpleasant sound, and his muscles tightened considerably. "Are you alright? He didn't hurt you?" he was seething, and though Belle was not afraid of him, she didn't like the menacing tone in his voice.
"No, no," she immediately supplied, hoping it would soften the hardened lines on his face, release the tension in his jaw, but he seemed intent on it. "I turned my head," she added, "He only got my cheek." Tentatively, Belle reached out and touched the lapel of his suit, surely keeping him much warmer than she was, "I'm okay."
He huffed, putting his hand over hers in the most intimate gesture between them. His thumb ran over the back of her hand and Belle sighed. "Good." His hand travelled upward and his fingers ghosted over her neck, tingling until he reached her cheek.
Belle couldn't help but lean her cheek into his hand, and then looked at his face, "You know," a small smirk formed on her lips, "Mr. Gold, you hardly need to sneak me into an alley if you want some kind of clandestine affair." She laughed, despite herself, and Mr. Gold's eyes widened apparently he did not expect such a comment, and swallowed hard. He started to withdraw his hand, but Belle quickly stopped him. "What'd you want to tell me?"
Whether it was her stilling his hand, or looking up at him through her thick, made-up eyelashes, Mr. Gold stopped trying to resist and left his hand on the side of her face. Strangely, she didn't feel uncomfortable, though she was sure if this had happened the previous evening, she wouldn't have. "Just that Todio is watching. He's very… keen… on your activities."
She exhaled through her nose and sank against the wall, lifting one of her hands up to the side of her face. "What can I do? How can I prove I don't know anything?" she searched his face, trying to discern something that would help her in navigating this.
Unfortunately, his face was, for the most part, unrelenting. "Just keep your head low dear, and as much as I loathe saying it, being polite, don't upset them." They sighed in tandem, and Belle wrinkled her nose, at least earning half of a smile from her very strange companion. Why was he so affectionate in an alleyway but gave no inclination toward it in his home? Belle couldn't wrap her head around it.
"I'd have liked to spit in his face," she said candidly, laughing lightly at her own admission.
Mr. Gold took a moment to consider, and then shook his head. "As lovely a picture as that might be, I'm afraid your saliva might be a bit too good a fate for him," he pointed out, and Belle laughed, brightly this time, so much so that she thought she saw a smile on his face. It disappeared before she could look again to make sure it was there. "How long have we been out here?" His brow wrinkled for a moment before he dug in his pocket, pulling out a pocket watch. She didn't even know people used pocket watches anymore, at least no one younger than her father… This was cause to pause, as she wondered how old Mr. Gold was… he didn't look that old, older than her most assuredly, but not as old as her father looked… She barely registered when he informed her it was 10:08. "I still have seven minutes on break."
Mr. Gold's eyebrows jumped up, and Belle couldn't help but let a slow, careful smile spread across her face. She reached forward, wrapping her hand around his purple tie and tugged him just slightly toward her, sending Mr. Gold tottering a bit unevenly, which seemed to never happen. "Miss French?" his voice was husky and Belle's smile widened.
She had him by the tie, staring at her, and he was looking at her, asking her what she was doing, essentially, and Belle couldn't really answer. Her heart was up in her throat and she leaned forward, brushing past his cheek and up to his ear, "Thank you, Mr. Gold," she smiled as the light stubble on his chin rubbed against the side of her face, "I've got to back in… but, I'll see you at the end of the night."
With that, Belle pulled back, smiling like a Cheshire cat, and Mr. Gold had a look Belle had never seen on his face: a mix of confusion, amusement, and something she couldn't place. Whatever it was, she didn't mind seeing it, and put his tie back, smoothing it down with feather light touches before biting her lip and slipping away toward the staff door.
Belle didn't know what she was doing.