Tempted Chapter Five, an once upon a time fanfic

So, here's Chapter Five, in which Belle and Tristan celebrate something. Thanks so much for reading and all the lovely feedback so far :)

Tempted

Chapter Five

'Well, I think that concludes our business,' Abigail said. 'Mr Gaston, Mr Glass.' She nodded politely.

Glass shook Belle's hand, but Greg wouldn't. He'd made things as difficult as he could, but she'd still gotten what she wanted, and he was bitter and angry. She didn't see why he should be so angry: he'd gotten away with a good chunk of her money and he was free, now, to find himself another rich wife if he wished.

She drew her hand back and Greg turned and walked out.

She'd been going to wish him well until that moment, tell him she hoped he'd find some happiness, but she said nothing in the end. He was out of her life now and she fervently hoped she would never see him again.

'Ladies,' Glass intoned, nodding and then following his client.

Belle sighed. 'It's over.'

Abigail smiled. 'How do you feel?'

'Relieved,' Belle said, smiling. 'Thank you so much for everything, Abigail.'

'You're welcome, Belle: I'm just glad it's finally settled. You can move on with your life now.'

'Yes,' Belle said, and it was only now hitting her that she was finally free. 'I can hardly believe it.'

'What will you do to celebrate?'

'I don't know.' Ariel and Eric were out of the country, Robin would be busy with Roland, and Tristan and the boys were on tour. She didn't have other friends, really. She'd had a social circle when she'd been married to Greg, but she'd called none of those people friends and she hadn't seen any of them since the separation anyway.

'Well, go have some fun anyway,' Abigail suggested.

Belle nodded and smiled. 'Thank you.'

Walking down the street from Abigail's office, there was only one thing Belle could think of. Pulling her phone from her purse, she made a call.

Gold smiled at the caller ID. She'd never called him before: he'd always been the one to call her, but her calling him was very welcome.

'Hey, Belle,' he greeted.

'Hey, Tristan,' she returned: 'is this a good time?'

'Perfect,' he assured her. 'How are you?'

'I'm really good, actually.' There was a happiness and a lightness in her voice that struck him.

'Belle?'

'Greg signed the divorce papers,' she told him: 'it's finally over.'

'That's great!' he enthused: 'we should celebrate.'

'I'd like that,' she said, smiling. 'We could have lunch when you get back.' He'd been gone almost a month, and she was longing to see him again.

'Belle, I'm already back in town.' She must have forgotten he said he'd be back today.

'You are?'

'Yeah: we just landed about fifteen minutes ago.'

'Oh, you did tell me you'd be back today,' she said, remembering. 'I'm sorry, it completely slipped my mind.'

'It's fine, Belle,' he said, shaking his head: 'you had a lot on your mind today. Look, why don't I meet you and we can do something to celebrate? We could have dinner: even go dancing.'

'You're sure? You're not too tired from all that travelling?' Still, her heart leapt in joy at the thought of seeing him soon.

'Nah: I'm good. So, what do you say: will you let me take you out to celebrate?'

'I'd really, really like that,' she said, happiness bubbling up inside her.

'Great. Let me go drop off my stuff, grab a shower and a change of clothes, and I'll pick you up about seven?'

'Sounds perfect,' she said, and gave him her address.

Belle checked her appearance in the mirror, turning this way and that to be sure she looked ok.

She'd bought a new dress on her way home. It was yellow, almost gold, and there were little crystals sewn onto the bodice that made it glisten in the light. The skirt draped and flowed to just above her knees. She wore the pearl drop pendant her mother had given her and she added a pair of diamond drop earrings and a diamond bracelet to complete the look.

She looked in the mirror again and smiled at herself. She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt so happy. Nor could she remember the last time she'd been out with a man in the evening. She refused to call it a date because it wasn't one: just celebrating good news with a friend, but it was the closest thing she'd had to a date since before she got married.

The doorbell rang and she smiled. Right on time, she thought, and hurried down the stairs with her wrap and her purse in her hand.

She pulled open the door and then gasped. Tristan stood on her doorstep in a blue suit with a white shirt, unbuttoned at the collar. She liked him in his leather and the jeans and t-shirts he habitually wore, but he looked incredible like this as well.

'Hey,' she said, realising she'd forgotten to greet him.

'Hey,' he returned, trying to catch his breath. She looked… 'You look lovely,' he told her, substituting lovely for the word he wanted to use.

She smiled. 'And you look very stylish,' she told him, though stylish wasn't what she thought in her head. 'I like the suit.'

'Thanks. Thought I should wear something other than jeans or leather for such a special occasion.'

'Well, it suits you,' she told him, smiling at him calling her divorce a special occasion.

He smiled. 'Thank you. So, shall we go?'

'Yes: let's.'

'So, where would you like to eat?' he asked.

'I don't mind,' she told him.

He nodded. 'I know a place. It'll probably be busy, but I think I can get us a table.'

She nodded. "Ok.'

They hailed a cab and Tristan gave directions to a restaurant called Violet. Belle had heard of it, but never been. Apparently, it was very exclusive and trendy, and, as the name hinted, the décor was all different shades of purple. When they arrived, there was a line of people waiting, but Tristan bypassed it and led Belle straight up to the door. He said a few words to the doorman and he nodded.

'Of course, Mr Gold,' he said. 'Have a good evening, Sir: Miss.' He unhooked the purple velvet cordon keeping people out and Tristan and Belle passed through into the trendy restaurant.

'They know who you are,' she said, smiling at him.

He smiled a bit sheepishly. 'Yeah: seems we're getting kinda famous. I haven't done that kind of thing before, but this is a special occasion and I didn't want you to have to wait all night to eat, so I thought I'd trade on my fame just this once.'

'Well, it's nice that lots of doors are opening for you,' she said: 'you deserve it.'

He smiled. 'And you deserve a good time tonight,' he said. 'I know it's not my turn, but let me treat you: please?'

She laughed. 'Alright, Tristan: whatever you say.'

'Good,' he said, satisfied.

The maitre d' greeted them with a smile. 'We should have a table for you and your guest in about twenty minutes, Mr Gold, but, in the meantime, you're very welcome to enjoy a drink in the VIP bar.'

'Thanks,' he said, nodding. 'Shall we?' he said to Belle.

'Why not?'

'Very good. If you'd like to follow me.' And the maitre d' led them up some purple-carpeted steps to a very luxuriously decorated seating area where several famous faces were seated. Belle recognised a couple of A-List actors, musicians, and models in the mix. She felt suddenly out of place.

'Please, enjoy,' the maitre d' invited: 'we will call you when your table is ready.'

'Thanks,' Gold said, and then smiled at Belle. She looked a bit tense, though, and he took her hand and she looked up at him.

'What is it?' he asked.

'Sorry: I just… There are a lot of famous people here,' she said: 'it's just a bit odd.'

'Would you rather go somewhere else?' he asked. 'I'm sorry: I didn't mean for you to be uncomfortable.'

'No,' she said, squeezing his hand: 'no, it's ok. This looks like a lovely place and I'm looking forward to seeing if the food is as good as I've heard, and it's nice to be with you and experience what your success has brought. Please, don't worry: the famous people are just people too at the end of the day.'

He smiled, relieved. 'Well, how about some Champagne to celebrate your divorce?'

'That would be lovely,' she agreed.

He ordered a couple of glasses and Belle smiled at him.

'You're the first person to know about the papers being signed besides my lawyer, so I'd like it if you'd propose a toast,' she said. 'It's good luck, you know.'

He smiled. 'So I believe. Alright: a toast to Belle and her future. May every day be better than the last: may your life be filled with more happiness, more joy, more laughter, and more love than you could ever imagine possible. Cheers.'

Her heart thumped in gratitude at his lovely words and she clinked her glass against his. 'Cheers: thank you, Tristan.' She reached out and touched his hand.

He turned his hand so he could hold hers. 'You're quite welcome, Belle.'

They chatted for a bit about how the tour had gone (very well, Tristan said), and Belle managed to forget that she was surrounded by famous people. After about twenty minutes, someone came to tell them that their table was ready and they made their way through the VIP bar to go into the restaurant. To get there, they had to pass a second bar, where other people were waiting to be seated for dinner. Belle was paying attention to nothing but the feeling of Tristan's hand on the small of her back, but the sound of a familiar voice calling her name made her pause.

'Belle Gaston?' the same voice called.

Belle turned and looked into the face of a woman with shoulder-length black hair and brown eyes. There was a woman with reddish brown hair with her too. Both women looked surprised to see her and they looked curiously at the man by her side.

Gold had felt Belle tense at the sight of the two women. He noticed both of them looking at him and he slipped his arm further around Belle's waist.

'Hello, Regina,' Belle greeted the brunette: 'Faye,' she said, nodding to the other woman. 'It's Belle French, actually, and has been for quite some time, as I'm sure you're aware. You might not be aware, though, that Greg signed the divorce papers today, so it'll soon be official. That means that you can have him back free and clear, Regina, or you can, Faye.' She nearly laughed at the looks on both women's faces. 'Oh, you thought I didn't know? Sorry to disappoint you, ladies, but I'm not as naïve as you always thought I was, and I'm not stupid either: I always knew about your activities with my ex-husband, but it seems you didn't know that he'd been seeing both of you. Oh, dear.

'Well, if you'll excuse us, we were just going in to dinner: enjoy your evening,' Belle said lightly, and she turned and walked away.

Gold followed immediately, wrapping his arm around her waist again.

He didn't say anything until they'd been shown to their table and then, as he took his seat opposite her, he smiled.

'That was absolutely fucking brilliant,' he praised.

Belle looked up at him and some tension seemed to leave her as she let out a breath.

'I have wanted to do that for years,' she admitted. 'I know it wasn't very ladylike of me, but–'

'Oh, screw that,' he told her. 'It wasn't ladylike of them to have an affair with your ex-husband. By the way, if I ever meet that bastard, I may just punch him. Actually, never mind may, I will punch him.'

She smiled and then shook her head. 'Don't do that: you'll hurt your hand and you won't be able to play your guitar, but thank you for the thought.'

'How did you know about the affairs?' he asked carefully, letting her know she didn't have to answer.

'Wives always know,' she told him. 'Often they don't say anything because they're scared and want to pretend like it isn't happening.'

'Was it that way for you?'

'Yes, for a while,' she admitted: 'there were other reasons I ignored it too.'

'Belle, I'm sorry.' He reached for her hand across the table.

She smiled. 'Thank you.' She squeezed his hand.

'I can't imagine how horrible it was.'

'Well, you know what it's like to be betrayed by someone you love.'

'Yeah, but we weren't married. At least I found out before the wedding. He married you with you believing he loved you.'

'Yes,' she agreed, 'and then, when I realised why he'd married me, I stayed anyway, even when I learned of the other women. I shouldn't have stayed with him, I know, but I did. I suppose I was afraid of what would happen if I left, and my father was fond of Greg, and I didn't want to let him down.' She shook her head. 'It makes no sense, I know.'

He squeezed her hand. 'No: knowing you, Belle, it makes all the sense in the world. You have a kind, generous heart, and you'd never cause pain if you could avoid it.'

She smiled, touched. 'That's sweet of you to say.'

'It's the truth,' he told her. 'Can I give you some advice, though, if it's not too weird to get advice from a kid?'

'You're not a kid, Tristan: you're more a man than Greg ever was, and I would be happy to hear any advice you could give.'

He leaned across the table and looked into her eyes. 'Don't do anything that isn't gonna make you happy, Belle: do it for your happiness first, and then, if it makes someone else happy too, consider it a bonus.'

She smiled. 'Very good advice, that.'

He smiled. 'I'll tell Aggie you think so.'

'That was very nice, Tristan: thank you,' Belle said as they walked down the street from the restaurant.

'Well, you're welcome, but the night is young yet.' He smiled.

'I suppose it is,' she agreed, feeling carefree and brave in his company.

'So what would you like to do next? We can do anything you want.'

She bit her lip. 'Well, it's been years since I went dancing.'

He nodded, trying not to react to her biting her lip. 'Then dancing it is.'

It wasn't what she imagined. Perhaps she was old-fashioned, but she didn't think of what those young men and women were doing as dancing. Well, in one way it was, since dancing, or some dances anyway, were a metaphor for sex, but that, what those couples were doing, was taking it way too literally.

Gold knew he couldn't do that with Belle. She'd likely run a mile if he suggested they try it, but he didn't want to dance like that with her anyway. That sort of bumping and grinding was for teenage hormones, not for classy women like Belle. He didn't want a poor simulation of sex with Belle: he wanted the real thing, but only if and when she was ready.

'This isn't what I had in mind,' he told her.

'Me neither,' she said, pretty sure she was blushing.

'Let's get out of here,' he suggested.

She nodded and followed him back out to the street.

'Well, I'd suggest a different club, but I doubt it'd be much better.'

'It's fine,' she said: 'maybe we could just walk for a bit.'

He nodded and they did just that, walking through the city and talking companionably.

'How did you meet the boys?' Belle asked. They'd been talking a bit more about the tour, and she realised she'd never heard how he met his friends.

He smiled. 'After everything with Milah went to hell, I decided to move to London to try my luck properly in the music business. I'd done a few gigs and busking in Glasgow, but I thought I might as well use the end of the relationship as an opportunity instead of something to moan about, so I packed up and headed to London.

'I was in a bar, drowning my sorrows, when this guy with a black eye walks in. It was Victor. Apparently, he'd been chasing after some other guy's girlfriend or wife or something, and the guy punched him. I asked him where he got the shiner and he told me, and the pair of us sat for a while, drinking and chatting.

'Somehow, we got onto the subject of music, and then the bartender, a yank named Jefferson, got in on the conversation. The three of us realised we had musical tastes in common. Then Jeff said he'd played drums for a few bands that went nowhere, Victor said he'd done the same on keyboards, and they looked at me.

'I don't know what possessed me, but I suggested we try gigging together. I mentioned I had a few songs we could work on and it took off from there. We spent a couple of years gigging around London and all over Britain, and then we met Richard Midas. He liked our stuff and next thing we knew, we were here, doing gigs, working on songs for the album, and working with Eric.'

'And here you are,' Belle said with a smile.

'And here we are,' he agreed. 'They drive me nuts on occasion, but they're like my brothers.' He smiled. 'So, how did you meet Ariel?'

'Oh, it was about fifteen years ago. She agreed to sing at a charity event I was helping to organise. We got chatting and we just hit it off.' She smiled. 'I'd never had a friend like her before: I tell her everything.'

He nodded. 'It's nice to have that: someone you can confide in.'

They walked on in companionable silence for a bit.

'Can I ask you something else?' he asked carefully.

'Of course.'

'What made you decide to leave him? Feel free to tell me to mind my own business if you like.'

She smiled and shook her head. 'No: I don't mind talking about it with you. When my father died, I realised I'd done nothing for myself with my life. I realised that everything I thought I'd wanted wasn't what I really wanted at all, and that everything I'd done, I'd done for other people instead of myself. I no longer loved Greg, and I hadn't for several years, and, with Dad gone, I couldn't see the sense in staying in the marriage any more. I knew I should have left long ago, but a combination of fear and the unwillingness to upset my father made me stay. After Dad died, I couldn't find another excuse to stay.

'I was terrified, but, one day, I went and got some boxes and started packing. I called Ariel and she and Eric organised a truck and helped me pack up. Greg came home in the middle of it all and I told him then and there that I was leaving. I told him he could have the house and I'd be in touch about a divorce settlement.

'He wasn't happy. I think he thought he could walk all over me and I'd just accept it. I think he thought I'd always be there for him to take advantage of. I'd known for a long time that he liked my money more than me and when I left, he was afraid the money would dry up too. It wasn't his spending that bothered me: there's always been plenty of money from Mum's family and Dad's inventions, but it began to upset me how very obvious it was how much he cared about it and how little he cared for me.'

She sniffled. 'Ugh: sorry.'

He put his hand out. 'No. Oh, Belle: I'm sorry I asked. Please, you don't have to tell me any more: let's forget about it.'

'No, it's alright: it's just that I get angry with myself for staying for so long when I knew how things really were. It helps to talk about it: really.' And she took his hand and squeezed gently.

He smiled. 'Well, it's all in the past, now: you're free of him.'

She smiled. 'Yes, and I feel like a great weight's been lifted from me: I feel like I could walk on air.' And she looked like she wanted to try doing just that.

He laughed softly. 'How about dancing in the street instead?' he asked.

Belle looked at him for a moment and then she dipped into a graceful curtsey, remembered from her ballet days.

'I would love to,' she told him.

Heart pounding, Gold pulled her close, but not too close. Then they swayed in time to some imaginary music, turning on the spot. Gold stepped back and spun her around, and Belle laughed as they got some funny looks and smiles from passersby.

She didn't mind the attention, though: she was happy, happier than she'd ever been. She was free of Greg, loved her work, loved the changes in her life since leaving her marriage, and had found a wonderful friend in Tristan. She wouldn't allow herself to think any dark thoughts tonight.

Gold smiled at her smile. He liked seeing her happy, liked the thought of her being happy with him. He really wanted to kiss her, but he stopped himself, because this was nice, and he didn't want to take the chance of ruining it with emotions that she wasn't ready for. Anything more they did had to be her decision. He would wait as long as it took.

As they came to a stop, Belle hugged him.

'Thank you,' she whispered.

'You're quite welcome,' he murmured.

They broke apart after a moment.

'It's getting late,' he said: 'may I escort you home?'

She smiled. 'Thank you.'

He followed her up the steps, wanting to go in, but knowing he couldn't. Part of him hoped she'd ask, but he knew she wouldn't.

She was wondering what he'd say if she asked him in. She bit the inside of her cheek, trying to stop herself saying anything foolish. She knew that just because she wanted him, it didn't mean he wanted her, and she didn't want to lose him by doing anything silly.

'Thank you for tonight, Tristan: you've no idea how much it means to me.'

He smiled. 'I'm glad I could do this with you.'

She smiled and hugged him briefly.

'Good night,' she murmured.

'Sweet dreams, Belle.' He moved backwards, watching her.

Belle turned to let herself into the house. She almost turned back and called out to him, but she stopped herself: she just wasn't brave enough to step over that line between friendship and something more, not tonight at least.

Well, there you go. Reading over this, I realised that, after the 4a finale, there's a bit of overlap with canon Belle. That was totally not intentional, but I hope you enjoy the chapter anyway. Chapter six coming soon.