Belle French collapsed onto one of the stools at Granny's. It was only her third day working at the pharmacy with Mr. Clark, but she was simply exhausted. She was used to study, long hours spent poring over books as she researched, hours alone in a little room trying to piece together the various threads of history. Stocking things in a pharmacy, asking "can I help you?" several times over the course of the day, and standing around waiting for something to happen was not really her stock in trade.

"Can I get you something?" She sat up a little higher and smiled at the young woman who approached her.

"Something that doesn't require much effort to eat," Belle said with a bit of a sigh.

"Long day?" The other woman leaned over the counter, her lanky body bent at a slightly odd angle to do it. She was tall, much taller than Belle's short stature, with long dark hair and a brilliant smile.

"You could say that," Belle responded with. "I'm working at the pharmacy."

"With Mr. Clark?" Belle nodded. "How do you stand listening to him sneeze all day?"

Belle found herself chuckling at that. Mr. Clark seemed to have allergies that nothing he did kept under control. She watched him take allergy medications like it was candy and still he sneezed on and off all through the day. "It is kind of gross, isn't it?"

"It is. I hope he doesn't sneeze all over the merchandise." The other woman gave a slight shudder. "I'm Ruby, by the way," she said and stuck her hand out.

Belle shook her hand lightly. "Belle. Belle French."

Ruby cocked her head to the side. "You're the new girl."

"I am," Belle confirmed. She wouldn't exactly say she was running away but, well, she was. When her father fell ill she had to leave her schooling to take care of him. They had moved to near Storybrooke, Maine to access some specialized treatment at a nearby hospital. He would be staying there for quite some time and so it was up to Belle to settle into the area, find a job, and help pay for his treatment. Working in a pharmacy wasn't quite what she had in mind but it seemed the area was small and the jobs scarce. She was lucky Mr. Clark even offered her that much. Everyone else in town had been wary at best and hostile at worst.

"Not so easy being new in this town," Ruby said and Belle was thankful to have someone who at least commiserated.

"Were you new at one point too?"

Ruby shook her head. "Lived here my whole life. We just don't get many new folks here. This really isn't a place people come to."

"I can imagine that." Small town life wasn't what Belle was used to. She had grown up in a large city in Australia, had landed in a large city in the United States when she was twelve, had spent all of her time in cities that never seemed to quiet down. This was her first experience with small town life and so far she was somewhat less than impressed. "But I have a part time job at least. It's better than expected."

"Ruby!" came the call from the other room as an older woman stuck her head out. "You'd best get back to work." Belle could hear the growl behind the voice, but could also hear the affection.

"Granny," Ruby said and the affection behind her voice was evident as well.

"Yours?"

Ruby nodded. "She's run this place as long as I can remember."

"Ruby!"

"Coming Granny!" she said with good-natured exasperation. "So the soup of the day?"

"Perfect. And maybe some hot cocoa?" Ruby rushed off and Belle slumped against the counter. She hadn't exactly made a friend, but at least she had found a friendly face. She was staying at Granny's Bed and Breakfast for now and Granny, Ruby's grandmother apparently, had agreed to give her the place to stay for only a small amount. She was a kind woman who seemed to know when someone was in a bit of financial trouble. As long as Belle washed her own bedding, she could stay there for only fifty dollars a week. It ate into her paycheck, certainly, but she could never have found something so cheap anywhere else.

Ruby brought her the soup, which turned out to be a rather generous portion of a delicious vegetable soup, along with some crackers and the hot cocoa she had requested.

"I put a bit of cinnamon on the top," she said as she set them down. "It seems almost everyone in this town likes their cocoa with cinnamon."

"That's an odd trait," Belle murmured and then Ruby was off about her business.

She did have to admit that the cinnamon gave the hot cocoa a bit of an extra flavor that was most welcome.

Soon people started to trickle into the diner and she watched from her perch on the stool. Mr. Clark came in, along with a large group of men who seemed to be best friends. All around the same height, not much taller than Belle, really, they were a good -natured, if loud, bunch. She couldn't help but smile and waved briefly at Mr. Clark before he settled into a booth with his friends.

A group of young girls came in, typical teenagers, loud and excitable and squealing about something or other. Following them were a sedate elderly couple who came and sat down at a booth near the front. It seemed Granny's brought the town together, from the young to the old, and Belle liked that. In the cities she lived in, people kept to themselves. There were places that the elderly went, places the younger folks went and rarely did they mix.

But not here. The town was small enough that Granny's appeared to be the place to go. And even Belle, outsider though she was, felt somewhat welcomed there.

A man close to Belle's age and his heavily pregnant wife entered and she could see them looking around in dismay. The place was simply packed and getting more so all the time. There were a couple seats next to her however and so she waved to the couple, who gave her an odd look for a moment before noticing she was pointing to the seats next to her.

The woman managed to push through first, people giving her a wide berth and good-natured ribbing.

"Thank you," the woman said as her husband helped her into the seat at Belle's right. "Eight months pregnant doesn't make any of this very easy."

"I'd imagine not," Belle responded with.

"I have to say I can't wait to pop this one out." The look she gave Belle was somewhat sheepish. "Sorry, you don't need to hear pregnancy complaints. You were nice enough to offer me a seat and I should simply say thank you and order my food. That's what David would say anyway."

"Indeed," her husband said as he sat down. "Let's leave the poor girl to her food before you start talking about Lamaze class or something."

Belle simply smiled and turned back to her soup. She was nearly done but it wasn't late, just a little after seven, and she wasn't quite ready to go up to her room yet. It was peaceful, true, and she had several books waiting for her, but there was something about being in company that she was enjoying for the moment.

"So no one?" she heard the pregnant woman next to her say and glanced at the couple from out of the corner of her eye.

The man with her, David she assumed, sighed. "No one. I've been all over town and had absolutely no one interested."

"He can't keep on the way he is."

"No. He can't. I can only do so much, but he needs help up there. But you know this town." There was exasperation in the man's voice and something else. Something Belle couldn't quite identify.

"They're all afraid of him," the woman confirmed. But that wasn't what Belle heard in his voice. It was almost…respect? A kind of companionship? She didn't know who this him was they were talking about, but she thought that David actually liked the man.

"Exactly." He sighed. "But he's hurt. I found him collapsed in his barn today. He'd lost his crutches and ended up face down in the dirt."

"I bet he loved that." The woman's voice was dry with sarcasm.

"It went about as well as you could imagine."

"David, you can't keep helping him. He doesn't want your help." The woman put a hand on his arm.

"I know," David said, running his hand through his hair. "But he needs it. And unless I can find someone to help him, I'm going to have to keep lending a hand."

"Which is not going to be so easy when the baby comes," the woman pointed out.

"Pardon me," Belle said, turning the couple. "I'm sorry. I couldn't help but overhear you. Are you searching for someone to help this person?"

David turned to her and gave her an assessing look. "Actually, yes."

"Oh David, you can't send her to him," the woman said and put her hand her husband's arm. "He'll eat her alive."

"Who is he?" Belle asked.

"Mr. Gold," the woman responded and looked away from her. Mr. Gold. The name didn't sound too intimidating, really. She imagined some doddering old fool, dragging around his crutches and shouting at anyone nearby, the crotchety old guy telling the kids to get off his lawn.

"Mr. Gold? He doesn't sound too bad."

"Well, he is," the woman interrupted with.

David reached out a hand, touched her shoulder, the small steadying touch that Belle had always admired between long-established couples. Admired and envied, really. Her longest relationship had been approximately six weeks with a fellow student. And they had never had any sort of real connection. He had been popular, admired by all the girls. And Gaston, star quarterback, always got what he wanted. He had set his eyes on Belle and for a time she felt flattered. Before she realized he was just an oaf who was heavy on the muscle and light on the brains.

"He's not that bad," David said. "He's just a little ornery, is all."

"A little?" his wife shot back.

"Mary Margaret, you know he's hurting after…"

"He was always that way, David."

Belle found herself rolling her eyes. "So what is this help he needs?"

David leaned a little closer. "Gold owns a sheep farm up on the hill. You might have seen it on your way into town?" When Belle shook her head he continued. "Well, anyway. He was in an accident a couple months ago and just returned home. He needs help with basic chores. Mucking out the barn, feeding the sheep and dogs."

"Dogs?" Belle perked up a bit at that. "I've always loved dogs."

"Don't," Mary Margaret said, a warning to be sure.

"Yes, dogs," David said and shot his wife a look. "He pays well," he added.

"How well?" If it was anything more than minimum wage, she'd take it. She didn't even care what she had to do or who she had to work with. Her father's medical bills were somewhat overwhelming. Keeping him in the hospital, the constant copays, the tests and procedures. Her minimum wage job would only cover a little bit of that with nothing left over for herself. She needed something more.

"A hundred bucks an hour."

"What?" Belle blinked. She had to have heard that one wrong.

"I told you he was bad news," Mary Margaret muttered. "You don't pay someone that much unless that's the only way you can entice someone to work for you."

"I actually think it was a bit of a dare." David laughed a little with it and Belle just shook her head. Mary Margaret was trying to paint him as the town ogre. David sounded like he actually like the man to some degree. Belle had no idea what to think. "Look, I can get you an interview with him if you want one."

"Oh, I would. Please. The only thing I've found is a part time job at the pharmacy and that's just minimum wage work. I'll do anything he needs."

"He'll love that," she heard Mary Margaret mutter and even Belle was starting to feel exasperated at the other woman. She didn't know this Mr. Gold, but it didn't even matter. One hundred dollars an hour. For that amount of money there wasn't much she wouldn't do.

"He's going to eat her alive," Mary Margaret said as they made their way home from the diner that evening. "You know he is."

"She's the only person who didn't balk at working for him." David was trying to be helpful. Gold could be a handful, that much he knew perhaps better than anyone else. But there was also a core of something deep inside the man that told him he wasn't quite as bad as he wanted people to believe.

"But you can't…"

"I'm going to. If she meets him and then refuses to work for him, then that's her choice." But he somehow knew she wouldn't refuse, something he was thankful for. He suspected the young woman he met might just be good for the old dragon.

"Fine, but when she comes crying to you because he's done something horrible to her, don't say I didn't warn you."

David just smiled at his wife and gave her a kiss as he helped her into the house. "I'm going up to see Gold. Tell him the good news."

"I almost want to go with you," she said and shook her head. "But not even watching him blow a gasket is worth that."

David left then, still grinning. Mary Margaret was wonderful. He loved her with everything he was, though their relationship hadn't always been quite so stable. They had met when he was married to someone else, marriage that was heading down the tubes before they even crossed paths. But he had instantly been drawn to her and that had created so much friction within the town that they had contemplated leaving for a time.

But then Mary Margaret got hired on to teach.

And they got married.

And little Emma had come along.

And somehow the town forgot.

But David still remembered that during those harrowing months where it was just him and Mary Margaret against the world, Gold had had his back. Not in the usual way. But he had picked up things in town for them, made sure that baby Emma got formula when Mary Margaret was ill. He had acted like it was nothing, but David had had a bit of a soft spot for him ever since.

He knocked at the door and waited. There wasn't a sound from inside, though he could see lights on. He worried. He could admit that much. The last time he had come up here he had found the man sprawled out in the middle of his barn with sheep loose all around him. He was just stepping off the steps to the front door when it finally swung open.

"Do pardon me for the long delay, Mr. Nolan," came Gold's voice from behind him. "It seems I'm not moving quite so fast these days." David turned back to him, noticed the sardonic twist to his lips and tried not to roll his eyes.

"Can I come in?" he said and crossed his arms over his chest.

"I doubt I could keep you out," Gold said and stepped back slightly. "You know the way to the living room."

David stepped around him and made his way to the room, watching Gold's prize sheepdog rise at his intrusion and find a spot across the room, about as far away from him as he could get. Truth be told, the dog had never liked him and Nolan never could figure out why. Maybe he had a bit of Gold's orneriness. Mary Margaret had been up to the house as well and had yet to have the dog approach her.

Gold didn't bother explaining. He just said That's Taz and left it at that. Sometimes it was easier not to question the man.

"So what can I do for you, Mr. Nolan?" Gold said as he made his way slowly into the room and slumped down in his favorite chair. There was already a tumbler of whiskey at his side and several bottles of pills, some open, sitting next to it.

"Are you mixing pain medication and alcohol?" He didn't mean the words to sound quite so incredulous, yet they slipped out anyway.

"You are not my father." Gold sounded highly annoyed and David tried not to smile. He was like an angry cat sometimes, all hissing and spitting. "What are you doing here?"

"I found someone interested in working for you." He watched the other man's eyebrows rise at his news.

"Really then? And how exactly did you convince this person to show themselves up there? Did you lie to him or is he somehow completely unaware of who exactly I am."

"New to town," David muttered. He didn't correct Gold's mistaken assumption that the person he was hiring was male. He was sure that Gold expected some large oaf he had stumbled on in town. Even David hadn't realized quite how small Belle French was until the woman had jumped off the stool and raced upstairs in excitement. She couldn't have been more than a couple inches over five feet, smaller even than the Gold, who David towered over. She didn't exactly look like the type to do a lot of heavy manual labor but, well, she was all he had at the moment.

"Ah, so you somehow managed to sucker some poor young man into coming up to meet me." Gold pulled a pill out of one of the bottles at his side and chased it down with whiskey. The look he gave David just dared him to respond to it. Wisely, he chose not to rise to the occasion.

"Actually, no. It was more like a volunteer thing." Desperation was more like it. He didn't know her story, but the desperation was obvious. And when he brought up the hundred dollars an hour. Well, he could see her making the calculations in her head. He had no idea why she had landed in Storybrooke, but he was thankful he had that much to offer Gold.

"Desperate, is he?" Gold set down his tumbler and steepled his fingers together.

"You look like you should be offering up an evil cackle," David pointed out.

"Perhaps I should be," Gold said with a slight smile. "So this person…"

"Interview tomorrow?"

David smirked. Despite Gold's insistence that he didn't want anyone up here to help, he was a practical man. He'd accept the help. Or at least, he would if he could convince him that he needed Belle French. How he was going to do that was quite beyond him at the moment. "A little after nine?" He had told Belle he'd pick her up at nine. She had her own car, a beat-up old hatchback that had definitely seen better days, but she didn't know the way to Gold's and he was certain he'd need to be there to mediate once Gold got a good look at the petite woman.

"Excellent. I look forward to meeting this young man." David was sure he heard a bit of sarcasm in his voice. "I assume you can find your own way out."

"Of course." Dismissed, David turned and left Gold to his pain medication and whiskey. Tomorrow was going to be one hell of a day.