On Wednesday, the dress arrived at Belle's door step. It was a large, fancy box, wrapped in light blue paper.
"So what are you waiting for?" Ruby asked, she and Archie were sitting on Belle's couch, "Open it!"
"What if it's something horrible?" Belle asked. "What if it's a horrible color and super revealing and... frumpy?"
"He wants you to not embarrass him, why would he give you a ugly dress?" Archie asked.
"Well..." Belle pulled the string and let it drop on the floor, then she collapsed on couch, "I can't do it!"
"Oh stop being a baby!" Ruby chided, and opened the box. From inside the box she pulled a white strapless dress. It had gold embellishes across the bodice and waist that tapered off down the skirt. It was floor length, with a sweetheart top, and the skirt was flowly and full.
"Oooooh!" Ruby cooed, "Try it on! It's so pretty!"
Sighing, Belle took the garment and went into her room. Pulling the dress on she realized that it was exactly her size, fitting perfectly across her chest and around her waist. It fit like a glove, showing off the bust she thought she didn't have. It grushed the floor as she walked back out, into the living room.
"Wow! You look fabulous," Ruby said walking around her friend, "Here, there are shoes too."
Belle, who wore heels ninety-five percent of the time, was surprised to be handed flats. Mr. Gold was not a tall man, but even in her heels she was several inches shorter than him. In flats he would tower above her.
However, the shoes were pretty. White and lacey, they were delicate looking and completely not suitable for the weather they'd currently been experiencing.
Referring to the dress, Belle wrapped her arms around her self and said, "It's beautiful, but I feel so exposed."
"And your boss said this was just a business engagment?" Archie asked.
"Yes," she sighed.
"Oh! There's a coat too!" Ruby exclaimed, still looking through the packages. She pulled the last garment from the box and handed it to her friend.
Archie picked up piece of paper that fell from the coat, "There's a note. It says, 'Miss French, a warmer coat that won't give me a headache with garish colours. R. Gold,' What does that mean?"
"He said my coat was hurting his eyes," Belle explained examining it.
"Well, you'll look pretty was a picture in these," Ruby giggled, "Where do I find a job where I get paid in couture?"
"You can have mine," Belle offered.
Ruby shook her head, "I'm not that desperate."
Saturday arrived with butterflies fluttering in Belle's stomach and a tight, nervous feeling in her chest. Ruby tried to pretend like it was a fun event Belle was going to.
"It's like getting ready for Prom!" she'd said.
"I got stood up at Prom, then found my date making out with another girl," Belle pointed out. Ruby ignored this.
When the car came to take her to the Empire State building- the location for the Mayor's Christmas Ball- Belle's hair was done and her face made up. Ruby had even smeared gold body glitter across her collar bone.
Dove was driving, no surprise, but what did surprise her was when Mr. Gold got out of the car to help her in. She hadn't expected him to pick her up, to merely wait for her at the Empire State Building. Or if he did come to get her, she would have thought him to stay in the warmth of the car, and let Dove get the door.
"Dearie," he said in greeting, or perhaps acknowledgment, placing a hand on the small of her back as she got into the car.
"Hello," she said tentatively as they drove.
"You," he paused, "live there? In that building?"
"Yes, that's why I had you pick me up there," she replied.
"You should be careful, it's not a very nice neighborhood," he said, looking strait ahead.
Was he concerned? Or was this a veiled insult? Unsure how to respond, Belle remained silent on the topic, instead she said, "Is there anything I should know about tonight? People to avoid or odd topics to stay away from?"
"Hmm," he pondered this then said, "You've met Ms. Mills? Avoid her if possible. Don't talk about dogs with Ms. De Vil, or anything secret with Mr. Glass- he'll spill any bit of gossip. Stay with me and use coon sense and you'll do fine."
They spent the rest of the ride in awkward silence and did not speak again until they were at the Ball, jackets handed off to the clerk manning the coat room.
"You look beautiful," he murmured, leaning down to whisper in her ear, their new height difference apparent.
Gold was pleased how the dress he'd chosen looked on her, it was better than he imagined. She seemed much more fragile and waif-like without the added height of heels and the gold shimmer across her throat was tempting. He wanted to kiss her throat, listen to her gasp and moan as he nipped at her skin leaving red marks in his wake. He wanted to take her far far away from the party, from the city, somewhere where it would be just them.
Belle shivered, whispering, "Thank you."
Placing a hand on the small of her back, he lead her to the ball room. Tables were set up around the edges, circling the dance floor. At the far side, there were two double doors leading out to large balcony with foliage and shrubs.
Dinner was quite uneventful. They were seated with Mallory Finch (the owner of Dragon Publishing and a friend of Mr. Gold's) and her date, Lucia Blue (who Gold glared at the entire meal) and Fredrick and Abigail Knight (the Mayor's daughter and her husband).
Both Belle and Gold made polite, shallow conversation until dinner was over. Moving to mingle, Gold never lost physical contact with her whether it be a hand on her waist or her arm in his. She kept up with the conversation, interjecting occasionally which earned her little smiles from Gold.
She fetched drinks, too many perhaps, but even feeling tipsy she went to fill up their glasses again. She delivered the filled drinks successfully to find Gold in a heated debate with a man she didn't recognize- something about ebooks verses the printed page and the decline of society as we know it.
A hand grasped her elbow and pulled her a step away, "Hello Belle, fancy running into you here."
Gaston. Her ex-boyfriend of two weeks, a strapping imbecile, rich, but prone to infidelity.
Belle had no opinion of him.
"Gaston, let go of me," she hissed.
He did, and said, "What are you doing here? Well, I suppose it's obvious, since you are on the arm of Mr. Gold. You've resorted to literal gold digging, I see."
"You do not see," she snapped, "and if your opinion is so low of me, then why bother to socialize? I'm sure you have some lanky woman with you tonight, you always do."
"Is it bad of me to want to catch up with an old friend?" he asked, "especially one as pleasing as you."
"What does that supposed to mean?!" she snapped, quietly.
"Care to dance?" he asked, loudly. People turned to look.
"No thank you," Belle hissed through gritted teeth forced into a smile.
"Come, come now, we don't want to make a scene," Gaston sneered pulling her to the dance floor. He was strong, too strong and Belle felt her self being swept up in the dance.
"What are you doing?" she asked, "We broke up, you cheated on me, we're over."
"I just can't believe you're satisfied with that old man, money or not. The sex can't possibly be any good, not like what we had."
"What we had? Gaston, we had nothing. Absolutely nothing. And despite what you perverted little mind wants to think, I am not sleeping with Gold."
"Please, everyone can see the way he looks at you, the way he touches you," Gaston rolled his eyes, "You're his new, shiny toy and he wants everyone to know. You must be doing something extra special in bed too, I've never seen him include any of his dates in conversation before. Does he tell you he loves you for your brain?"
"Get away from me," Belle hissed pulling away. She stormed off the dance floor and out to the balcony where the cold air chilled her temper. Moments later she felt hands slip around her waist.
"You disappeared, sweetheart, I couldn't find you," Mr. Gold said softly. His breath was warm on her skin. She sighed.
"I ran into an ex," she explained.
"Hmmm," he hummed. He was drunk and so was she, a dangerous combination with her hot skin and the cold air.
"The large boorish man?" he asked.
"Yes," she said.
"I believe he is watching us," he said, "Do you despise him?"
"Yes!"
"Would you like to make him jealous?" he offered, lips a hair's breathe from her flesh.
She understood what he was offering. Kisses and touches would not make Gaston believe that they weren't sleeping together, but she craved them so. And, unbeknownst to her, Gold craved her too, her warmth and body and light that he had only sampled two weeks ago.
She turned to face him, bodies pressed together, "Yes, I think we should," she breathed.
His mouth crushed hers, kissing her long and deep, with all the passion that alcohol and sexual tension brings. The broke, Belle gasping for air as Gold kissed her throat, her collar bone, training kisses closer and closer to the top of her gown, picking up gold glitter in his wake.
Belle moaned, and out of the corner of her eye, saw Gaston leave, disgusted, shaking his head. But Gold wasn't finished.
His kisses moved back to her throat and turned to nips. He left a trail of red marks on her pale skin. He clung to her, crushing her body to him, causing her breathes to become shallow.
Then he bit her. Teeth against the flesh of her throat, not hard enough to presumed skin but hard enough to leave a mark. Hard enough to bring both pain and pleasure and to leave her stifling a cry.
He pulled away and she hid in his chest, arms under his jacket, cold and hot all at the same time.
"It's late," he said into her hair, "I should get you home."
"Can't I come home with you?" she asked, muffled by his shirt.
"No, no precious, that would not be wise," he said and lead her back into the ball room, almost bumping into Lucia Blue on their way.
They managed to locate their coats and call the car. Driving back, Belle snuggled into Mr. Gold's chest. Wrapping his arms around her, he signaled to Dove to take a long way back.
"Why are you complicated?" Belle asked, "One day you're nasty and cruel and the next you're kind and kissing me. I don't understand."
He ran his fingers across her exposed skin. Silently, he began to trace little patterns.
"Why do you make me feel like this?" she whispered, hand fingering the buttons of his shirt, "Some times I think I hate you but some times I could fall in love with you."
He touched the ugly red mark that he had left on her throat.
"I could love you too," he said hoarsely, "But you'll leave like all the rest. Or I'll lose you in the end. I couldn't make you happy."
He kissed her forehead, "You won't remember this, will you my sweet?"
Belle snuggled closer.
Far too soon they reached her apartment. Helping her up to her door, he attempted to search her clutch for her keys while leaning on his cane and holding her up as well. It was a fruitless and difficult task.
"Hello? Um, are you Mr. Gold?" a soft male voice said behind him.
Turning, Gold say a red-headed man looking out of the door on the other side of the wall.
"Yes..." he replied cautiously.
"I'm Belle's neighbor, Archie Hopper," the man explained, "It looks like she'd had a little bit too much to drink?"
"Yes, I was trying to get her inside," Gold explained.
Belle chose this moment to look up and say, "You have really nice teeth."
Archie nodded, "Belle's a bit of a light weight. Here, I'll get my fiancee."
He turned and called, "Ruby! Belle's back!"
"Oh! Belle!" a tall woman with dark brown hair and smudged red lipstick appeared and helped Belle inside, finding the right key instantly. Gold and Archie followed them into her apartment.
It was small, but clean, and barely furnished. Gold was surprised at the chill in the air, but not that books covered every flat surface.
This Archie Hopper seemed to know who he was and said, "Did everything go alright tonight? Belle was nervous."
"Yes, yes, she did wonderfully. Everything went fine," the older man shifted awkwardly. He could hear Ruby talking to Belle in what he resumed was her bedroom.
"She has a lot on her plate right now," Archie said, a warning under his polite tone, "she doesn't need any more trouble."
"I see," Gold replied, wondering if he should leave.
"Okay, well, she's in bed," Ruby said emerging from the bedroom and closing the door behind her, "I take it you're Mr. Gold?"
Her tone was more accusatory than anything else.
"Yes, I was just going-"
"Your ball must have had a lot of mosquitoes," Ruby snapped, staring at him.
"What?"
"Yeah, how else would she have gotten that red mark on her throat?" Ruby said glaring at him.
Gold bowed out with out another word.