Tuesday morning Belle was stuck in an elevator between Mary Margret Blanchard and Regina Mills. The elevator inched its way up to the top floor so very slowly.
After standing in silence for too long, Mary Margret asked, "How's Robin?" while glancing at Regina.
"We broke up," Regina snapped, "Not that it's any of your business."
"That's too bad," Mary Margret said, "I hoped you two would find all the happiness in the world."
"As much as I'd like to believe your silly little speech, hope is for fools without ambition," Regina sneered, "and love? Love is weakness."
With all these deep, intense emotions coming to surface so fast, belle felt like she was in the middle of a previously started debate. Mary Margret being the optimist and Regina the cynical pessimist.
"Oh Regina, that's your mother talking, not you," sighed Mary Margret, "What good is a rainy day without hope for sunshine? Hope fuels ambition, it drives out dreams.
You can't let your fear of commitment keep you from happiness. You have to fight for love and it will always find you. How do you know if it's true if you don't try?"
Regina rolled her eyes and walked away, out of the elevator and down the hall towards her office. Mary Margret looked sad, but also exited the elevator.
Belle remained still, standing rooted to the spot even after the doors had closed again. She thought about what Mary Margret had said.
She'd never know if it would work out between her and Rumold if she didn't try. She'd never know if he felt the same about her as she did about him. She wasn't going to quit and she wasn't going to give up.
"Do the brave thing," she whispered, "and bravery will follow."
Christmas came quickly, and with it, the all staff Non-denominational Christmas party. The party was in full swing when Belle, still at her desk filling paper work, was summoned into the inner office.
"Yes Mr. Gold?"
"I need you to go down to the Christmas party," he said, not looking up from his work.
She was perplexed, "Go to the party? Why do you need me to do that?"
"The Christmas party usually has the best gossip," he grinned wickedly at her, "and the best food. See what you can hear and fetch something for us to eat."
"Yes Mr. Gold," Belle grinned back and quickly departed.
Giggling as she made her way to the party, Belle was assaulted with sights and sounds as soon as she made it through the doors. Christmas music was blaring at full blast, the auditorium was decked with red and green crate paper.
"Belle!" Jefferson cried, grabbing her hands and spinning her around, "Did the big guy send you here to spy on us?"
"Something like that!" Belle replied.
Tink, who was rather drunk, looked concerned, "Santa sent her here?"
"Don't worry, Tink, she'll be sure to get you on the nice list," Jefferson teased.
"Of course!" Belle laughed, as Jefferson put an arm around her and lead her away from the tiny drunk blonde.
"Working these parties is an art," the lanky man explained as they walked towards the punch.
"Working?"
"Spying for our boss," he clarified, "Now there's the obvious, Mary Margret comes with her Charming date- and that's not a complement, that's his name, Charming."
He pointed to the buff blond man.
"Reggie and MM will try to avoid each other so there isn't a big blow up, the holidays are difficult for blended families," he continued, "But staff parties is the one time that Emma and Reggie will get drunk enough to admit their feelings for each other. And by 'admit their feelings for each other' I mean make out."
"Ms. Mills doesn't seem to get along with anyone does she?" Belle commented picking up a cup.
"Don't drink to much of the punch," Jefferson warned.
"Spiked?"
He grinned, "You're catching on fast."
Jefferson ended up helping her carry two cups of water and two plates back up to Mr. Gold's office. He then helped her picked up all the plates and opened the door for her.
"You certainly took long enough," Gold said in lieu of greeting, then, "How did you manage to bring all that up here?"
"Oh, I have my ways," Belle offered, setting the food on his desk.
"Good night Jefferson," Gold called and the other man shut the door.
"Night Rumold! Night Belle! Don't do anything I wouldn't!" Jefferson called back, through the closed door, "Or maybe do!"
Belle gave Gold an awkward smile, "Sorry, he insisted."
Her boss waved a hand dismissively, "No matter, Jefferson is one of the few souls I can bear. Now, what scuttlebutt do you have to share?"
Belle handed him a plate then walked over to the couch, kicked off her shoes, and sat down, feet up, plate in her lap.
"Well..." she began, "Leroy got drunk, so did Emma and Regina Mills."
Gold, his own plate in hand, joined her on the couch, making her lift her feet so he could sit down. She absently set them in his lap.
"I assume they proceeded to kiss like a pair of horny teenagers?" he asked.
Belle giggled, "You've got that right! What's the deal with those two?"
"They are locked in legal battle," Gold said matter-a-factually, "Ms. Mills adopted Miss Swan's son, and, after the son found his biological mother, Miss Swan now wants joint custody."
"Wow, seriously? Anyway, Leroy was moaning about someone named Astrid. And Jefferson said I was there to spy for 'the big guy' so Tink though he meant Santa Clause."
"Who spiked the punch this year?" he sipped his water.
"Jefferson said he didn't know, but I think it was him," she admitted with a grin, "It looked pretty potent."
"It usually is," Gold agreed, "I will never forget the first year that horrid wanker Keith started working here. One cup and he was dancing on tables before passing out cold."
Belle giggled, "Couldn't hold his liquor then?"
"No indeed," Gold smiled at her, getting to his feet, "But I can, and I fancy a bit of scotch. Any for you, pet?"
"Maybe a sip," she joined him next to his desk. Gold pulled from a drawer a decanter of amber colored liquid and a single cup. He poured a bit and handed the cup to her.
Belle took a sip and grimaced, passing the cup back, ignoring the way their fingers brushed. He was so easy to talk to when he wasn't being an arse.
"Not so much of a scotch drinker then?" Gold chuckled.
"Not so much," replied Belle, "I'm more of a gin or wine girl."
"Hm," he hummed in response, taking a drink as they sat back down. Belle let her head fall against his shoulder.
A few hours later, Belle awoke, Rumold petting her hair and slightly shaking her. Her hart was pounding, and felt flushed.
"Shh, shh, it's all right," he murmured, "It's alright, you're safe, I've got you."
"R-Rum?" she whispered.
"You were having a nightmare, sweetheart," he soothed.
Belle snuggled closer, arms wrapping around his middle, "I don't remember what is was about, just that it was awful."
He let her relax, idling tracing the curve of her neck and her collar bone. With his other hand he played with her hair, keeping her close and whispering gentle words against her forehead, "Nothing can hurt you here, kitten, you're safe."
"You are," she said softly, "almost tolerable when you are kind."
He chuckled, "and you are always enchanting. But it's late, I'll ring Dove to bring the car to take you home."
Belle yawned in response, letting him pull her to her feet and help her into her coat, handing her off to Dove who had her back to her apartment faster that she thought possible.
Belle flopped back onto her bed and sighed. Best Christmas ever? Quite possibly.
New years came and went. Bringing with it another party for Gold to escort Belle to, this one hosted by the owner of Dragon Publishing, Ms. Mallory Finch. Belle had, at first, balked at this party, as she'd just a week ago, sent her novel there. Ruby had convinced her to go anyway, "I doubt the CEO has read your book, Bee," she'd said. So she went.
They had a lovely time. No Gaston to ruin things, Gold had spent the better part of the evening with his hand in his lap. Holding her hand and gently rubbing his thumb on the inside of her wrist, a gesture Belle found most erotic.
There were no biting kisses in the garden, but never-the-less he never let her leave his side. He also never stopped touching her, whether it was an arm around her waist or his hand in hers.
Mallory Finch was the one to comment on the behavior, a week later.
"Rumold!" she cried, bursting into his office on the rare occasion that Belle was stationed at her desk, not by his side, "You never told me that your little plaything was your secretary too! You naughty boy! And such a talented little thing too, I'm going to make her a star!"
"What are you talking about, Mallory?" Gold growled, "And Miss French is not my plaything."
"Oh so charming as usual," Mallory replied, "You must really be fond of this one. Well, if you must know, your little girl sent in her manuscript to Dragon Publishing and my secretary got a hold of it and since Phillip has excellent taste, he passed it on to me. Your girl really has a way with words, I'm going to offer her a publishing deal, but I thought I'd tell you first."
She grinned in a horribly suggestive way, "Thought I'd do you a good turn, maybe you want to give her the news? Get a pretty reward for it?"
"Mallory!" Gold snapped, "Whatever beef you have with me, you will leave Belle the hell out of it or you will regret it!"
"Oh please, I'm just having a bit of fun. Ursula, Ella, and I had a little bet on whether or not you really cared about that pretty thing. And, thank you very much, your outburst is all the proof I needed, I'm fifty dollars richer," Mallory was smug.
Gold glared.
"Come on Rumold, it's just a joke! Well, not all of it, I am going to make your Belle famous."
And with that she turned on her heel and walked out, leaving Gold to ponder what just happened. Belle wrote a novel?