A/N: I'm sorry this has taken so long. A lot has been going on in my life that has helped kill my muse. Hopefully updates will come faster, but please know I AM working on it even if I'm really slow.

The first day Baedden joined them out in the field was perhaps not the best day they had ever had. Belle could see how hard Gold was trying to engage with the boy and sometimes it was just painful to watch. He alternately spoke to him like he was a young adult and a child and Baedden was getting increasingly frustrated.

"I don't understand why," he had said multiple times as Gold tried to explain what they were doing and what was going on with the sheep.

He had been using Belle as an example. Having her demonstrate things, having her try to explain them. He had taught her well and she took great pride in being able to show his son a few of the things she learned.

But there was frustration on both ends and she worried about them, worried it wouldn't end well. Baedden's face was flushed. Gold had a furrow between his brow that seemed to increase the more time went on.

"No! Not like that." He stepped in between his son and the dog and grabbed the stick the boy was using as a crook from him. "Never like that." Baedden had wielded it just a little too much like a weapon, driving the dog back and coming close to hitting him. They were using a young dog, untrained, and just a little bit unrestrained and when the dog rushed the sheep, Baedden had tried to stop him, nearly hitting the small dog on the nose.

"I don't know what I'm doing!" Baedden shouted back.

"I'm trying to show you what to do, dammit!" Gold's voice was equally loud and Belle watched as the dog cringed back. Border Collies tended to be sensitive dogs to start with, but a raised voice was one of the banes of their existence. She had learned that the hard way when she had shouted in anger once around Bandit.

"Stop!" she shouted and walked in between Gold and his son. She turned briefly to Baedden and gave him a small grin before turning most of her ire on Gold.

"He's just a boy."

"He's…"

"He's trying," she pointed out.

Gold took a deep breath and she could see the way it physically calmed him. "I know."

"Then go easy on him, Tavish," she said quietly. "He's trying."

When she turned to look back at his son, the boy was watching her with eyes that were just a little too much like his father's, just a little too assessing. She tried not to smile. He may not spend much time with Gold, but he was certainly his boy through and through, from the unruly hair that was just a tad bit longer than normal to the quick temper to the keen intelligence. She had no idea what traits the boy picked up from his mother's side, but there were certainly many she could see just beneath the surface that were all Gold.

"Alright," Gold finally said. "I'm sorry, Bae."

The boy nodded and she noticed that he didn't correct his father on his name. A small victory at least.

And then her stomach growled and she found both man and boy watching her with wide eyes and an amused grin. "Maybe we should break for lunch?"

"Women," Gold said as he stepped closer to his son. "It's always about food with them."

"And shoes," Belle pointed out.

"Yes of course. Food and shoes and handbags galore." Gold made a small gesture with his hand and she was pleased to see Baedden actually crack a grin at that.

"Mom has about fifty, I think," he said. Some of the first words that he had spoken on his own that hadn't been about the sheep or the dogs, a small hint at his life. A conversation.

"I only have one," Belle said with a slight sniff. "I don't need that many handbags."

"That's because yours can fit everything and the kitchen sink in it." Gold's voice had turned light and she was glad to see that furrow between his brows had disappeared.

Baedden snickered.

Belle turned to him. "You think this is funny young man?" She drew herself up to her full height but knew that was probably ridiculous. Baedden was really not that much shorter than her.

"I…" he started to say and Belle reached out and ruffled his hair.

"I'm only joking."

The boy visibly relaxed at that. "Good." She was surprised to see him glance at his father and saw Gold nod once.

"Now there's a reason for my large handbag," Belle pointed out. "A girl has to be prepared."

"For the apocalypse," Gold cut in with and Baedden snickered again.

"Oh I give up!" Belle said and threw her hands in the air. They had gotten about halfway back to the house at that point and so she leaned down close to Baedden. "I'll race you back to the house?"

His eyes lit up at that. She didn't know children, not that well at least. She had never had her own and had been an only child. But she had been involved in many races back to houses in her day and always remembered how free it made her feel. It seemed it was no different now.

"We shouldn't," Baedden finally said. "Papa can't race."

Belle felt her eyebrows draw up and she turned to look at Gold quickly. It was true. He couldn't run. He might be not leaning as heavily on the cane anymore, but he still needed it to walk, still needed to use it for balance.

"No he can't," Belle said and there was a bit of sadness to her voice.

"Go ahead," Gold said suddenly and she was surprised at the tightness to his voice. It wasn't anger. It wasn't sadness. But she could see something behind his eyes and hear something in his voice.

She leaned closer to him. "Are you sure?"

He nodded and reached up to tuck an errant hair behind her ear. "Yes. Go run with him. He'll enjoy it."

Belle cocked her head to the side for a moment, studying him, and then finally turned back to Baedden. "Come on!"

And then she was off, the boy following behind her with a whoop of joy.

His son had beaten her back to the house and he wasn't quite sure if Belle had orchestrated that or if his son really was that quick. He remembered, somewhere during one of those short conversations he had with his ex-wife, that Baedden was into sports. Soccer, she had said, and there had been some sort of exasperation behind the words. As if soccer, a sport that somehow connected Baedden with his Scottish roots more than she would have liked, was beneath him.

But the boy was small, wiry. American football would never suit. Soccer, now that suited him and he apparently loved it. Watching him run, he could well imagine that he was fast, scrappy, not afraid to get hurt.

Nothing like his old man.

Nothing at all.

Gold was always afraid of getting hurt. Not physically, but the scars he wore went deep. Far deeper than he'd like to admit, even to himself. Watching his boy with Belle was like having a knife driven deep into his gut. This was how it should have been. The happy family. Wife who loved him, son who loved him, a family he cared about and cherished. Maybe even loved.

That thought made him hesitate for a moment, taking just a second too long to open the door and step through.

"Are you ok?" Belle asked him. She would be there, of course, seeing that moment of weakness. She always seemed to recognize when something wasn't quite right.

He just stopped and watched her for a moment. "How do you do that?"

"Do what?"

And he was sure she was honestly confused, honestly had no idea how she seemed to read him like one of the many books she had read over the months of her time there with him.

"Nevermind." He waved her on ahead.

"Don't do that," she shot back with.

"Do…"

"That. Shutting me out." She planted her hands on her hips, but he was saved by the reappearance of his son.

"Come Belle, you promised lunch."

"Miss French," Gold said after a moment. Probably too late. "You're to call her Miss French," he shouted after his son. Baedden just turned back to him and gave him one arched eyebrow. A look he was all too familiar with. He'd spent ages perfecting that sardonic eyebrow tilt when he was young. It seemed it came all too naturally to his boy.

"She told me to call her Belle." And then he turned and raced off, presumably to the kitchen. Young boys had big stomachs. He remembered that much at least..

"Did she now?" he murmured and glanced at Belle.

She gave him a sheepish look. "I didn't think it would hurt any…"

"He needs to learn some manners," Gold grumbled.

Belle just smiled at him and put one hand on his arm. "Well, if it's any consolation. I think his manners are just fine." She leaned in closer. "And I did tell him to call me Belle. 'Miss French' always makes me feel old."

He didn't know that. He could have guessed if he had ever taken the time. But he hadn't. Why bother, anyway? She would never show interest in the likes of him and so why would such a thing matter? Except it did, he realized. Sometime it had begun to matter.

He wasn't even sure when that was, really. Maybe when he held her after father's funeral. Or perhaps it was when she first got it, that moment when things clicked when working with a dog. Or it might have been when she fell from the ladder or quite possibly when she refused to back down and chipped his damned cup.

Probably the damned cup…

"Are you coming?"

He blinked once. And then again and finally managed to focus on Belle. She had moved off a bit and left him standing near the door, gripping his cane with one hand and looking inward. "Yes, of course."

Lunch first.

There would be time for soul searching, or whatever it was that he was doing, sometime later.

Gold had been acting odd, Belle realized as they headed out to the sheep. His son had been there for a grand total of seven days. One week in which Gold had alternated between being open and honest and trying so very hard with his son and closing himself off completely. The walls sometimes flew up so quickly she was almost certain she could see them.

But progress was being made. She could feel it. Gold looked more relaxed, lines not quite as tight around his mouth, a little less afraid of saying the wrong thing to his son.

And Baedden had relaxed around his father as well, letting him into his life. He didn't say much. He was a quiet boy, really, and in moments after he went to sleep Gold told her he remembered him as always being quiet, a little shy, smaller than the rest of his class. The latter she could well imagine as true, but the boy was certainly not shy and he had no trouble in speaking his mind.

Especially now that his father had relaxed a little. Not a lot, mind. But he had let down his guard a little bit, let the boy in a little bit more. And it was showing in the way Baedden was willing to say things, to challenge things.

He had continued the sheep herding lessons. She was surprised at that. Not that she really understood children, at all really, but she pretty much saw them as little people addicted to their games and occasionally to making trouble. She expected his son to be much the same. And he had, until he had latched onto this idea of learning herding.

The games had been put aside.

And Baedden was pulling long hours out in the field with them. He stuck close by them, watched them with eyes that were sometimes just a little too old for his age. She suspected he had been through as much as his father had been.

It was late one night when Belle went down to the kitchen for a glass of water that she ran into Baedden. He startled when she walked in, bleary-eyed, in her pajamas. "Belle…" He stammered like his father when nervous, she realized.

She watched him for a moment. "Are you ok?"

His eyes slid away from hers and he turned back to the counter. "I'm fine."

"But…"

She watched as he took a deep breath and turned back to her. "Are you and my Dad…" He let the words trail off, but she knew what he meant. She was honestly surprised it took a week for him question their relationship.

"I don't know, Bae," she answered. Honest. She had nothing to hide, but also really nothing to tell. She knew what he was asking and she wasn't quite sure where the young boy stood on such things.

"He's never had someone here before." The words were quiet, serious.

She knew that. She'd always known that. Gold had told her that he hadn't dated since his divorce many years ago and she well imagined that the previous times his son came to visit, they basically interacted like strangers. But still, she had no explanation for what she was to Gold. She wasn't just his employee anymore, but she also wasn't exactly his lover. There was something there between them and she wasn't quite sure where it was going, what it would turn into.

She only knew that every time she saw him, her heart did a little flip. And when he was in one of his moods, she felt it. Stronger than before. Stronger than anything else she had before. Almost as if they were connected on a level that she never could have anticipated.

And she still didn't know where she stood with him.

"I know," Belle said in response and for a moment both were silent.

"Well if you wanted to…" His words trailed off and Belle found herself smiling for a moment before she realized he was dead serious.

"If I wanted to…"

"You know," Baedden said and waved a hand in the air, a gesture so reminiscent of his father that it made her heart warm a little bit. "My dad…he seems so lonely."

"I know." She fell into silence then. She knew. All too well. She had seen the set to his shoulders, the way he pushed people away and yet drew them in at the same time. She'd seen the way he tried so hard with his boy and wanted to give up to keep his heart intact. She had seen beyond the hard exterior to what lay beneath, the side of himself he showed to no one.

"Well…"

"Yes…I know. If I wanted to…"

"Yeah."

Belle reached out a hand and briefly touched the boy's arm. "I'll take care of him."

"I think he needs that." And then the boy was gone, leaving her alone with her thoughts and worries.

"You did it!" Baedden shouted. Gold turned to look at his son. He'd been here for almost two weeks and he'd seen such changes in the boy since he arrived. He'd gone from sullen to excited, even happy over being out working with the sheep.

He had never seen such a thing before out of his son.

And he knew he had Belle to thank.

Belle, who even now was watching Bandit herd five sheep through a pair of drive gates, her eyes bright, her hand over her mouth as she watched it all work.

"I did it!" she shouted and turned to hug Gold, as if it were natural to reach out and touch him, as if he were used to being touched. And he was, he supposed. At least by Belle. She was the kind of person that touched without thinking, a hand on the arm, a brief touch on the shoulder. He had probably had her in his arms more than he had had his ex-wife through their entire marriage.

He wasn't quite sure that was a bad thing.

In fact, he was more and more sure that wasn't a bad thing.

"Yes!" he heard his son shout and let go of Belle to hold out his arm toward the boy. There was a hesitation there, noticeable, but small, before the boy rushed to them and briefly hugged them.

He couldn't even fathom what was happening here. Against almost insurmountable odds, his son had been talking to him, had been spending time with him. The night before the three of them had gone out for pizza. Pizza. Like they were a normal family. Father, mother, and son.

And it felt so damned right he wasn't even sure what to do about it all.

"She's looking good, Gold."

Nolan. Oh bloody hell. Caught in a moment of weakness by David Nolan of all people. And of course, he was grinning. He was more and more these days when he came to him. As if he knew.

Which he supposed he did. He hadn't quite forgotten his moment of drunken shouting at Nolan the day he asked Belle out. And he hadn't quite forgotten the man showing up the day after the date, smirk in place, wanting to know how it went.

He had thrown him out on his ear.

But not before telling him everything went just fine thank you very much and will you stay out of my business already.

He'd rot in hell before he admitted that he had ultimately invited the man into his business in the first place.

Gripping his cane in one hand he turned, the move less suave than he hoped. As he pivoted, his bad foot got caught on a clump of grass that had no doubt been kicked up by some errant sheep and he stumbled. Just slightly. Enough to make his son laugh. He shot the boy a dark look before turning back to Nolan, grin in place. "Well, I did train her after all."

David just smiled at him. "Of course."

One of Gold's eyebrows rose. "Are you saying that my training has nothing to do with her success?" The notion was ridiculous at best.

"Of course not." Nolan still wore the same congenial grin, arms crossed over his chest. "Are you thinking about trials?"

Gold had no chance to respond before Belle stepped closer. "A trial?"

"No," Gold quickly answered but the look Belle shot him made him refrain from saying anymore.

"Do you think I'm good enough for that?" He watched as she glanced back at the sheep. They were grazing somewhere up the hill, Bandit having been released from her duty and currently upside down with Baedden stroking her belly. No one could argue that despite all their intensity and focus, Border Collies were still just dogs at heart.

Gold took a deep breath. "For a novice trial? Perhaps." There was one thing he had learned the hard way and that was that having hope was often a mistake. The last thing he needed was David Nolan strolling up to his farm and putting those sorts of thoughts in her head.

Belle let out a squeal and reached out to hug him. And he let her. And David Nolan just kept smirking.

"Don't get any ideas, Mr. Nolan," Gold muttered under his breath.

"Of course not," Nolan responded with. "I'm just saying that she's almost ready."

Belle backed away from Gold and he could see her waiting, wondering, hoping. Damn that Nolan. "I will consider it," he said finally. And then turned to Belle. "I will," he said to her. She nodded at the words. "But there's still a lot that needs to be done."

She took a deep breath. "I'm prepared to do it."

"Well, then, I suppose we need to get started." He gave a pointed look to Nolan even while his son let out a shout of excitement that he only expected out of him when he scored some point or defeated some villain or whatever on one of his bloody games.

"I'll look forward to seeing you at the trial," Nolan said as her turned to leave.

"You're going?" Gold felt his eyebrows shoot up. Nolan wasn't any good with herding dogs. He had them, but he certainly wasn't any sort of expert, mostly letting the dogs just push them to where he needed them and doing the legwork to separate them himself when needed.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world." And he walked off whistling.

"Well, at least she'll beat someone," he muttered.

"I heard that," Belle shot back with.

"I'm not competing," Nolan called over his shoulder.

Gold was left standing there with Belle laughing, his son laughing, even David Nolan laughing. And wasn't it just ridiculous that he actually felt like joining in?