Chapter Three
The next morning, before he went over to help Belle dry-wall, Mr. Gold readied himself for the day, showering, changing clothes, shaving and eating breakfast.
Normally he would just eat a cold bowl of cereal, but today he had made himself bacon and eggs to try and improve his mood over his current situation.
"Quack, Quack, Quack," Gold startled at the sound of phone alerting him to Jefferson texting him. It had taken Jefferson nearly two months to get Gold to exchange phone numbers with him, and almost instantly afterwards, Gold had went out of his way to find the most annoying sound to match Jefferson's number.
Gold, out of curiosity checked his phone, usually Jefferson only texted him after one PM; Gold hadn't even thought that Jefferson would be up this early.
You doing anything tonight? Gold texted back quickly so that he could leave.
No, I never do anything on a Friday night, he wrote.
Well, tonight you are. There's a bar down town that is just dying to get us drunk, and besides, you need to get out more.
No, Gold wrote back.
Don't be a turtle! you're going if I have to hog tie you and drag you there Gold sighed, Jefferson had a habit of comparing Gold with a turtle due to both having a tendency to stay in their shell. It was his friend's way of telling him not to be so antisocial.
Why are we friends again? Gold texted.
Great, meet me at your shop at six. Gold groaned, knowing that he wasn't going to be able to talk Jefferson out of making him go. And if he didn't even show up, he could easily imagine the hatter making good on his word about hog-tying him. After all, if Jefferson could handle his extremely hyper ten year old daughter Grace on Halloween, he could easily handle a cranky Mr. Gold.
That was one of the few things the two men had in common, both were divorced. While Gold's son was grown and living on his own now, Jefferson's daughter still lived with him during the school year. Unfortunately it was summer, and Grace was currently living with her mother Alice in New York City. And since Grace wasn't with her father at the moment that meant Jefferson was bound to drag him to more than one bar for a night out that summer.
Fine, see you then Gold wrote reluctantly. He put his phone on vibrant and shoved it into his pocket before he cleaned up from his breakfast and left his house.
It didn't take him long to reach the building, and to his relief, Belle wasn't late today. But then he felt the familiar anxiety and butterflies that he had felt around her yesterday. He took a moment to calm himself down as best as he could before he stepped out of the car.
"Hey Mr. Gold," Belle chirped cheerfully, the key to his building swinging from her key chain clipped to her belt.
"Hello Ms-Belle," he said quickly when she started to frown. But the moment he changed it to her first name she smiled again, and it sent a shiver down his spine. How had this woman gotten under armor so quickly?
"The dry walls in the basement, I had the Lowes people bring it here and then I had them help me get it down there, but I still need help installing it," she smiled sweetly at him, and turned to unlock the door.
"Well I suppose this little venture will be over quite soon then," he commented. His brain wished for it to be over already, but his poor stupid little fluttery heart was wishing it would never end.
"Yah, I suppose so," was that sorrow he heard in her voice? Gold shook himself, no he was just imagining what he wanted to hear. Actually what he wanted to hear was that she never wanted to leave his side, which was exactly the way he felt around her. But that would never happen.
When she got the door unlocked, he quickly went over and held it open for her, just as he had done the day before. She smiled again at him, fluttering her eyelashes a little before going in.
He slipped into the building behind her, and walked ahead, despite his bum leg protesting this faster movement, and once again opened the door for her, his face growing hot when she looked at him in some surprise, but kept that sweet little smile on her face.
"Thank you Gold," she murmured.
"O-of course," he stammered, feeling slightly dazed by her sapphire eyes. But then she was already heading down the stairs, and his heart gave a huge lurch when she slipped on one of the stairs, forcing her to grab onto the railing for support.
"I think these stairs need fixed as well, so people don't slip on them too," Belle called, her voice strangely hoarse. Gold swallowed, was she mad that he hadn't gone first so that he would have slipped instead of her? Or was she mad that he had brought her into a fairly dangerous environment. Guilt flooded through his veins against his will.
Belle hated feeling like a liar. It wasn't that she had nessicarily lied to him, it was true that she had actually slipped on the stairs. But that had been entirely her fault for having stepped right on the edge of one. But as soon as she had grabbed the railing for balance the idea to find a way to spend a few more days with him had been far too tempting.
"Good idea," Gold choked out, then added, "Are you alright Belle?" She looked back at him, her hair falling into her face; oh how he longed to reach out and tuck it behind her ear.
"Yeah, I'm ok," she said rather cheerfully. She then bounced down the stairs, leaving him with nothing to do but head down and hope he wouldn't slip. Luckily he safely made it down, and waited for her to tell him what she needed him to do.
"Ok, can you help me lift this piece?" she asked, picking up one end of the dry-wall board. Gold looked down at his bum leg and then at her before nodding his head. As long as it wasn't extremely heavy and he had help, he could lift things, just not for long.
He rested his cane against the stair way and limped over to the other side of the board and helped her lift it up and place it against the wall.
It was much simpler than he had thought it would be. And fairly easy, considering how light the board actually was. But he understood her need for him to help her. While she plastered it into place, he lifted it.
By five, they had three of the five walls done.
While Belle put her equiptment away, Gold retrieved his cane and sat down on the last step of the stairway, resting his now aching leg.
When Belle turned around, she noticed this and was instantly frowning. "Are you ok? I didn't hurt you any did I?" she asked, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth.
"No," he said quickly, a little too quickly to even act normal, "It's just my leg cramps up sometimes, is all". She still looked concerned and the tiniest bit guilty. Belle folded her arms across her chest and rubbed the side on one with her hand.
"I can help relieve some of the pain if you want me to," she said awkwardly, and then added quickly, "I know a few massage techniques, after all I did cause it to start hurting in the first place so it's the least I can do".
"You don't have to if you don't want to, I can just take tylanal," he said, though the thought of refusing having her hands on him made his heart want to shrivel up and die.
"I want to help though," Belle said, "I caused the problem after all, and besides I could always use some practice on my technique". She walked over to the stairway and sat down in front of him.
"Ok," he said in a small voice, unable to make himself any louder. The butterflies swarming his stomach were not helping his case in any way, nor was his mind. The small cowardly part of him wanted to tell her that he was fine and then walk back up the stairs; but the truth was, his leg really did hurt.
"I'll just start with your ankle then work my way up to your knee, alright?" she said, a little uncertainly, her teeth once again worrying her bottom lip. Oh how he wanted to kiss her.
"Alright," he said, mentally screaming at himself to get a grip. The poor woman just had too big of a heart and wanted to help him so that she wouldn't feel guilty about putting him in pain was all.
Belle very gently placed her hands on either side of his bad leg's ankle and slowly began to rub. Gold's breathed hitched in his throat, but he forced himself to keep breathing normally. She's just trying to help, she's just trying to help, he kept repeating to himself, more than anything to keep his body from betraying him.
She carefully maneuvered from his ankle to the middle of his lower leg, all trace of pain vanishing with her gently and caring touch.
When she reached his knee, she looked up at him and asked quietly, "Does your leg feel any better?"
"You should be a masooce," he murmured, and then shook himself, "Much better thanks". She gave him a shy smile and stood up, offering him her hand to help him to his feet. Feeling like an absolute idiot, he awkwardly took her hand and let her pull him to his feet. His leg felt brand new despite the day's earlier events.
"So I'll see you tomorrow?" Belle asked, her eyes hopeful. Apparently he wasn't quite as useless as he thought he had been.
"Of course, until then my dear," he said, and moved out of the way so that she could go up before him. Belle blushed, and he silently bit his tongue to keep himself from saying anything else completely stupid.