Note: I'm posting this before Valentine's Day as I won't have Internet access from now till the 17th and I didn't want to be late posting!
Summary: Valentine's Day, for WhiteOrangeFlower on AO3 who prompted 'Chocolate Mocha cupcakes for Valentine's Day' and Wingless Demeter, who wanted to see a Rumbelle and Red Cricket first Valentine's Day. There's not much Red Cricket in it, I'm afraid, but I hope you enjoy nonetheless.
Also, if you missed the tenth cupcake because of techy difficulties, please do go back and have a read, it is viewable now. :)
Chocca Mocha Cake
"Huh. Valentine's Day."
Thursday the fourteenth of February, and Emma was sitting in the now-closed café at the only table that they hadn't put the chairs on top of yet, staring despondently down at a single Valentine's cupcake that was left over from the day's sales. Belle brought over two cups of coffee and a knife and unceremoniously cut the little cake in half.
"I mean, I know it's not his fault, but seeing all the happy couples coming in and being ridiculously romantic, and Ruby not being here, it rubs it in a bit."
Graham and Emma had planned to go away for Valentine's Day, their first romantic break on their own since becoming a couple and then engaged in a comparatively short space of time, but Graham hadn't been able to get the time off work. Naturally, Emma had been quite put out when it was revealed that Archie was taking Ruby to Paris to celebrate the occasion.
"Drink your mocha," Belle said, "and eat your half of the cupcake. Coffee and chocolate can always make everything seem better."
Emma took a bite of her cake with a wan smile.
"So what's your excuse?" she asked. "How come you're here with me drowning your sorrows in mocha and cupcakes and not celebrating your first Valentine's with your significant other?"
Belle sipped her coffee. "Same as you. Work got in the way. He's in Plymouth for a case. It's a particularly tricky one, an adoption, and unfortunately 'it's Valentine's Day and I want to spend it in bed with my girlfriend' wasn't a valid excuse for missing all the important meetings." She picked at one of the red sugar hearts on top of the chocolate frosting and smiled. "He's promised to make it up to me, and if there's one thing that can be said of my Gold, he always honours his agreements."
Emma raised an eyebrow.
"So we won't be seeing you in tomorrow morning then," she asked drily. "I'll have to send Granny to pull you out of bed by your feet?"
Belle shook her head in despair.
"I shouldn't have said anything, you're as bad as Ruby," she muttered, before adding, "at least you seem to be feeling better now."
Emma nodded and finished her last mouthful of cupcake. "Have you heard anything from Ruby? If I know her, she'll be giving us regular updates."
"Surprisingly no," Belle said. "Perhaps she's being tactful considering your situation. Then again, perhaps she's aware of the fact that Archie's very shy and blushing really doesn't go with his hair, so she's keeping quiet for modesty's sake. I've had one text, this morning." She got out her phone and showed the message to Emma.
Went to the Moulin Rouge last night. OMG, I had to cover Archie's eyes…
"I'm sure we'll be getting an in depth report when she comes back on Saturday," Emma said.
"As long as we can fend off questions about our own lovelives," Belle added. "What did you do for Valentine's Day? Well, all four of us were working, Ruby."
Emma laughed. "At least we know they didn't forget completely," she said, indicating the large bouquet of white roses that Mary Margaret had delivered to Belle that morning. ("It's been mad," the little dark-haired florist had said. "I swear that next year I'm taking Valentine's Day off and making David do all the work.")
"I suppose that sometimes life has to take priority," Belle said. "It's just annoying that it's decided today is the day to do it."
It was, they had realised, the first Valentine's Day that all three friends were one half of a relationship, and before more quotidian things had come in the way, they'd been looking forward to comparing notes. Before, Belle's coupled up Valentine's Days had consisted of the usual flowers, card, moderately nice restaurant, and her single ones had been spent celebrating her independence at the pub.
Presently Emma looked at her watch.
"It's coming up to seven," she said. "I'd better go, I need to pick up Henry. He went to a friend's house after school but they might be wondering where I am now."
She made to go into the back room to collect her things, but before she could get there, the two waitresses were interrupted by a little knock on the glass door. Emma turned and her hands flew to her mouth; Belle glanced over her shoulder and smiled on seeing Graham standing outside the café, holding up a pink cardboard box and looking a little sheepish but extremely pleased with himself.
Emma rushed over to unlock the door and let him into the café.
"Nearest I could get to Paris," he said, presenting her with the box. Belle could see that it had come from the boutique French patisserie at the other end of the high street.
"Oh Graham…" Emma bore the box over to the counter and opened it carefully. "Millefeuille, selta, kirschtorte… Graham, you must have a slice of every cake in the shop in here!"
"Not every cake," Graham protested. "I know which ones you don't like."
Emma replied by kissing him.
"I love you," she said.
"I know," Graham replied, a hint of pride in his voice. He pulled her in for another kiss, one that Emma accepted readily before breaking off suddenly.
"I need to pick up Henry, I'm already late."
"No you don't," Graham said. "He's staying with Jamie tonight."
"But he hasn't got his pyjamas!" Emma protested.
Graham gave her a knowing look. "There's a lot I can do in two hours, Emma, even if I can't multitask quite as well as you do."
Emma sighed happily. "You really have thought of everything." She turned back to Belle, who nodded.
"Don't worry, I'll finish up here," she said in response to Emma's unspoken question. "You go on, your cakes'll be getting past their best and Graham has to go to work at three in the morning."
"Thanks, Belle. Graham, we'll never eat all this cake."
"Speak for yourself. I'm starving."
They said their goodbyes and left the café together, and Belle was alone with her thoughts as she did the last bits of tidying before locking up and taking her roses in the direction of home. She had no idea what time Gold would be back from his meetings. Maybe he'd be waiting for her when she got back to the flat. He didn't have a key, but Mrs Ginger could let him in. Perhaps he'd be waiting for her, with champagne on ice and her bed turned down and scattered with rose petals. Actually, on second thoughts, scrap the rose petals. Belle had never seen the point. All they did was get in the way and stick to hot, damp skin. But champagne on ice sounded good. And Gold in his shirtsleeves and no tie, off-duty and relaxed. Or, conversely, the tie but nothing else; Belle had never had a problem with that particular vision.
What she found, however, on turning the corner from the bus stop and feeling her heart flip on seeing Gold's car parked in the street outside her house, was none of these things. Namely because Gold was still outside the flat, engaged in an exchange with Mrs Ginger, who was hanging out of her bedroom window on the first floor.
"No," the landlady was saying. "No, absolutely not. Not after what happened last time. Belle's not in, come back tomorrow." Belle smiled, she was referring to the debacle with Gary back in November.
"Mrs Ginger, it's me." Gold's voice was betraying all the signs of an exasperation that could fast turn explosive. "We've met. Belle has formally introduced us. You know who I am, so will you please do me a favour and let me in, because I am freezing out here and the food's going cold."
"You brought food?" Belle came past him on the path and slipped her key into the front door. "You can definitely come in then." She opened the door and ushered him inside.
"Your landlady is something else," Gold muttered as he went into the kitchen and dumped the carrier bag he had with him onto the table. "I know that a Chinese takeaway on Valentine's Day is hardly the most impressive or romantic of gestures, but all the restaurants will be booked up and I'm too hungry to cook."
Belle kissed his cheek, pausing in her previous occupation of getting out the plates and cutlery.
"I'll make it up to you at the weekend, I promise," he said.
"Don't be silly," Belle said. "You're here, that's all that matters in the end. I don't need anything fancy as long as I've got you." She paused. "On the upside, all the restaurants will be empty and cheaper at the weekend. Everywhere hikes their prices up for the fourteenth."
Gold laughed. "I've corrupted you. I swear you weren't this cynical when we first met."
He reached into the carrier bag to produce a bottle of champagne. "At least I remembered that."
"Ah yes, the perfect accompaniment to prawn wontons and egg-fried rice," Belle teased.
Gold merely raised an eyebrow. "According to my esteemed Aunt Elvira, champagne goes with everything. Including, worryingly enough, gin."
"Had I not met your aunt, I wouldn't believe you," Belle said. She served out the food and brought it through to the living room, Gold following with the champagne and glasses. When everything was nicely laid out on the coffee table – she still hadn't bought a table-cloth – Belle sat back and admired her handiwork.
"Perfect," she said. "There's only one thing spoiling the picture." She reached across and undid Gold's tie, tossing it in the general direction of the door. She chinked her glass against his. "Happy Valentine's Day."
"Happy Valentine's Day," Gold echoed, pulling her in so that he could kiss her properly.
Belle rested her forehead against his after she broke away. Who needed a Parisian hotel room when you had an Ikea sofa and someone who could kiss you like that? She was incredibly fortunate to be in love with this man and have him love her back.
At length she pulled out of his arms and they began to eat.
"Successful day?" Belle asked.
"Yes, at last. After however many months of wrangling, not aided by their previous solicitor dropping dead from a heart attack in the middle of the case – God rest Mr Fothergill – Mr and Mrs Mason are now officially the parents of little Gail. Everything's been signed and sealed and she's moving in on Saturday."
"That's good news."
Gold nodded, a slightly faraway look in his eyes. Belle smiled. This was the reason, one of the reasons, why Gold had ended up specialising in family law. However much he said it was because he could make millions from messy divorce settlements, Belle knew that he was a softie at heart, and he did it for the children more than anything. Even the hardest and most ruthless of men had a weakness somewhere. She wondered… Perhaps it was because his own family had come apart that he wanted to see others put back together, the individual pieces becoming a whole. Belle smiled at the notion; it made sense in the grander scheme of things. She was no longer an insular person anymore, she was part of something wondrous and inexplicable and celebrated on this very day – love.
The meal over, Gold pulled Belle in close to his side.
"I have something for you," he said. "You don't have to take it yet if you don't want to, but it's for you nonetheless."
He reached over and took his wallet out of his coat pocket, and from this he took a key.
"It's my house key," he continued. "Belle, I love you, and I want to come home to you every night. And if you don't want to live in my house, then maybe we can find somewhere new, together."
Belle smiled, her heart racing.
"I love your house," she said. "I love you." They'd talked about living together a couple of times, and Ruby was constantly asking her when she was going to move out of her little flat and into the big pink house on the hill once and for all, but she hadn't been expecting this. "I love you, and I love your house, and there's nothing I'd want more than to make it our home."
So what if they'd only had Chinese takeaway on the sofa? It was by far and away the best Valentine's Day of Belle's life so far.