Chapter 3

When he woke up the next morning, he realized grudgingly that he had managed to come up with the stupidest, most insane scheme ever.

Belle French was never going to agree to spend three weeks under his roof and him merely suggesting such an outlandish plan would ensure she would never look at him again. And so, when he went to the pawnshop, he took his laptop with him and spend most of the morning trying to find alternative rehabilitation or convalescent centers that had less rigid guidelines, but came up with nothing.
Apparently Blue Fern Sanatorium was the only option in the vicinity.

He should just let the matter rest. He had tried, but it was not within his power to change the situation. Like she had said herself, it was only three weeks, she would survive it.

When his lunch break came, he locked up the pawnshop and drove to Storybrooke Hospital, berating himself the entire way for his foolish stupidity.
It took scowling to three different nurses before he was admitted to her room outside of visiting hours, but finally he was granted permission and he knocked on the door hesitantly.

She called for entrance and although he was slowly getting used to the brilliance of her smile, it still caused his heart to stammer inside his chest.

"Good day, Mr. Gold," she greeted him cheerfully. "I'm glad you came by…. I'm leaving for Lewiston tomorrow and I was afraid I wouldn't see you before then."

"Actually, that's what I've come to discuss…" he started, still doubting every next word that was coming out of his mouth and sitting down on the chair next to her bed gingerly.

He had obviously interrupted her during her lunch, because there was a tray in front of her and a plate, at which she was staring rather miserably.

"What on earth is that?" he asked getting side-tracked, staring with disdain at the slice of bread without a crust, the bright yellow, shining cheese and the glass of juice.

"Lunch, kinda…," she grinned and sipped her juice, the only thing that looked edible. Realizing that the food was unlikely to be any better at Blue Fern Sanatorium, he was speaking before he even realized it.

"You are of course under no obligation to accept, but if you want, you are more than welcome to stay at my home until you're well enough recovered to be on your own again…" He paused for a few, tense seconds, feeling as if he was watching from some distance how a nervous, bumbling, middle-aged man was getting his foot rather firmly stuck in his mouth.

And yet, he was still talking. "I can arrange for a nurse to take care of you and you could get your physical therapy here… It's only that Blue Fern Sanatorium didn't seem to appeal to you and I'd like you to know that you have options if you're so inlined…"

Realizing he was rambling like an idiot, he closed his mouth with a snap and waited for her reaction, his blood pumping in his ears.

The glass of juice she was holding slowly sank back to the tray again as she stared at him with her mouth open.
"You… you're offering me to stay with you while I recover…?" she repeated incredulously.

"Yes…" he managed, wishing he could think of more arguments that would convince her, anything that would make this ridiculous scheme sound a little less incredulous.

"But wouldn't I be horribly in your way?" she asked, looking at him with wide eyes.

"You wouldn't," he was quick to reassure her. "There's plenty of room at my house and only slight accommodations will have to be made."

"You don't have to do this, you know," she said softly. "I don't want you to feel like you are obliged to me."

Well, he was, but that wasn't why he was offering, not that he would ever mention that to her. It was just that ever since he had heard what she had done and meeting her that first time, he felt unexplainable protective of her. Taking care of her, making sure she was all right wasn't something he had to do, it was something he needed to do.

Not that he could mention that to her either.

"That's not it at all," he reassured her quickly. "I just… took a look at Blue Fern Sanatorium's website and… I think it looks like something out of a dystopian novel."

For a moment he got to enjoy her giggles before the guilt settled in as she grasped at her bruised left side.

"Sorry," he apologized immediately. "I can assure you that I will remain entirely solemn for the duration of your stay."

She gave another little snort at that.

"Are you absolutely certain?" she then asked, giving him a searching look.

"I am," he replied, completely serious now, hope blossoming inside his chest now that she really seemed to consider his offer. "Please stay with me, Belle?"

The use of her name had her smiling like nothing else. "All right…" she conceded. "If you're sure then I would very much like to accept."

Once Belle agreed to stay with him, the few adjustments he needed to arrange were easily taken care of.

He called his housekeeper and instructed her to prepare the guest room. A talk with Whale brought him up to speed with the particulars he had to consider regarding her care. Walking the stairs would be difficult for her during the first days and she was absolutely forbidden to carry things, but as long as she took it easy and didn't strain herself, she should be all right.

Of course Belle needed some clothes and personal belongings during her stay with him and for a moment that proved to be the biggest obstacle, until nurse Astrid offered to go to Belle's apartment and pack up the things she required. They were delivered to his house late afternoon and he put the suitcases in her room, ready for her to unpack.

He had carefully explained to Bae that Miss French was going to stay with them for a few weeks and his son's reaction had surprised him a little.
Bae had acted like it was the most normal thing in the world.

At precisely two o'clock the next afternoon he pulled up the Cadillac in front of the hospital to pick her up. She was brought outside in a wheelchair by nurse Astrid and for the first time since he had properly met her, she was dressed in something other than the yellow hospital gown.
Instead she was wearing a striped dress of soft cotton and low pumps.

Carefully helping her out of the wheelchair, he noticed she was still moving gingerly and that sitting down at the passenger seat of his car had her wincing.

"It's only a short drive to the house," he tried to reassure her, but Belle was already smiling again.

"It's nice to be outside again."

He took great pains in driving as smoothly as he could, avoiding the bumps and dents in the road and meanwhile the librarian next to him was chatting happily.

"I've never been to this part of the town before, but it's lovely here."

He had to agree with that. It was early May and after a week of spring showers nature had all but erupted in fresh green leaves and colorful blossoms.

When he pulled up in front of the driveway of his house, she went quiet mid-sentence, staring at the pink, Victorian mansion in awe.

"This is your house?" she breathed. "You live here?"

"I do," he replied. "Although you should know that I prefer the term salmon over pink."

She laughed quietly at that. "Your house is beautiful, Mr. Gold. I can't wait to see the inside."

Right. That was the one thing left he needed to address. Somewhere along the line he'd begun to think of her as 'Belle' instead of 'Miss French' and if he didn't do something to remedy the situation, he was going to embarrass himself.
"Please call me Rowan?" he asked. 'If we're going to share a house for three weeks, we shouldn't act so formally around each other."

Holding his breath, hoping he hadn't overstepped somehow he awaited her reaction.

"I'd like that… Rowan…" The sound of her accent caressing his name caused his blood to heat up, but it at least he got exactly what he wanted.
"But only if you call me Belle."

"Agreed," he smiled at her while unbuckling his seatbelt. "Let's get you settled in."

He walked around the car to open the door for her and held out his hand to help her out of the car, wincing in sympathy as he noticed how painful and difficult it still was for her to move.

Slowly they made their way to the porch and he helped her up the stairs, cursing his ruined knee that he couldn't simply pick her up and carry her inside.

Now there was a thought that did nothing to calm his treacherous heart.

"Sorry, everything just takes forever." Belle told him apologetically and suddenly he found himself smiling.

From where he was standing, forever sounded pretty damn good.

Dinner that evening wasn't half as awkward as he'd feared it would be. Bae came home from school with a new book and within minutes he and Belle were sitting on the couch reading together until it was time to eat.

Covering the small distance from the couch to the dining table was still difficult for her and he suspected that sitting in one position for too long was only aggravating her injuries.

"It smells good in here," she said brightly as she finally slid into the chair.

"Just chili and corn," he answered modestly while Bae let out an enthusiastic cheer.

"It's his favorite," he told her quietly while Bae went to the sink to wash his hands. "And it allows me the opportunity to feed him some vegetables once in a while."

After she took her first bite, Belle's eyes went wide. "This is delicious!"

"I know!" Bae replied enthusiastically. "Chili and corn is the best!"

In amusement, Gold watched how both of them cleared their plates in record time.

"Do you cook at all?" he asked her, refilling both their plates.

"I can barely boil an egg," Belle confessed. "I usually get take-out or make a salad and I get by with that. But after a week of hospital food I was really craving a good meal."

Adding 'feeding Belle properly' to his mental to do-list for the coming three weeks, he poured her another glass of water and soon the conversation turned towards the upcoming Miner's Day.

"It's really fun," Bae told her. "We're making candles at school to sell for charity and there's a fair and a bouncing castle."

"It sounds wonderful," Belle replied. "Is it an annual festival?"

"It's been held for decades," Gold explained. "There used to be a lot mines around here, but now only a few of them are still operative. It started out as a ceremony were the townsfolk brought candles to the miners and the miners gave coal to the town, but these days it's mostly a carnival. Still, it's a nice bit of extra income for Storybrooke's shopkeepers."

"It's a shame I'm on sick leave," Belle pondered. "It would be a great opportunity for the library to do a small exposition on the mines surrounding Storybooke. We could have a local history section."

"I might have a book on the history of mining in the shop, I'll look it up for you," Gold replied, reveling in the smile he got in return.

"Are you coming with us to Miner's Day, Belle?" Bae asked excitedly. "We can go on the bouncing castle together!"

"I'm sorry, Bae," Belle replied, a look of genuine regret flashing over her face. "I think that by that time, I'm not recovered enough."

"Oh… okay," Bae answered, his face falling for a moment before he perked up again. "We'll get you a candle though!"

"I'd like that," Belle smiled at him.

After dinner, he put Bae to bed and Belle went to her room soon after that, rather exhausted after being up for the most part of the day.

Sitting at the dining table, Gold finished up some paperwork but found that his mind was easily distracted that evening.

It had only been one evening, but Belle French was easily the most compatible person he'd ever lived with, aside from his son.
Just knowing that she was asleep under his roof gave him a certain sense of peace.

She fitted right into his small family, like she'd belonged there all along and at the same time he was extremely aware of her presence, the house seemingly brighter and warmer since the moment she'd entered it.

If he had any reluctancy about her staying with him for almost a month, it had evaporated completely during the evening.

For as long as it would last, inviting her to stay with him had been the best decision of his life.

The next morning he woke up at his usual time and showered and got dressed before going over to Bae's room to wake him up.
To his surprise he found that his son's bed was empty.

Just as he was about to make his way downstairs to look for him, he heard giggles coming out of the guest room and he froze in his steps.

Frowning he retreated and paused in front of the door, listening for a few moments to the sounds coming from inside.

"How do you even do this? I keep missing the ball!" Belle's voice sounded both amused and exasperated.

In response his son burst out in another fit of giggles. "You need to move the pen over the screen, like this…"

Another snort of laughter was heard, followed by a triumphant cry: "Yes, finally! Oh… what do I do now?"

"Run!" Bae encouraged her, still laughing. "You have to… never mind, you're out."

Raising his hand, he knocked on the door, feeling like it wouldn't be right to just barge in.

"Come in!" Belle called out, seemingly wholly unperturbed by his presence at the door. Carefully he pushed it open and peeked inside, his mouth going dry at the sight that greeted him.
Belle was sitting up in bed, leaning against a row of pillows, dressed in bright blue, striped pajamas, her mass of dark curls spilling over her shoulders.
Bae was sitting cross-legged on the bed across from her, his Nintendo DS lying between them and a glance at the tiny screen told them they'd been playing a game together.

"You need to get ready for school, son," he managed, his voice sounding oddly hoarse.

Heaving a regretful sigh, Bae slid of the bed, handing his DS to Belle. "You can practice if you like," he said generously. "We can play another game this afternoon."

"I'd like that!" Belle replied with a grin.

Once Bae had skipped out of the room, off to brush his teeth, Gold gave her an apologetic look. "I hope he didn't disturb you?"

"Oh no!" Belle assured him instantly. "I was awake at five o' clock already. If anything, I was glad for the company. You have a wonderful son, Rowan."

He smiled, both at her words and the way his name rolled so effortlessly from her lips. "He is. He's my greatest joy."

"I can imagine that," her voice was barely more than a whisper and when he looked up to meet her eyes, he found her looking at him with an expression filled with soft wonder.

"Yes… well…" suddenly realizing he was standing in the bedroom of a young woman who was a guest in his house, he strained up and coughed awkwardly. "I'll go down to make breakfast, you're welcome to join us… take all the time you need."

"Thank you," she beamed at him and he practically bolted from her bedroom before he could say anything stupid.

"Are you almost finished, Bae?" he asked the bathroom door on his way downstairs.

"I am!" his son yelled back. "Papa…?"

Pausing in his tracks, he popped his head into the bathroom to find Bae looking at him with a huge smile on his face.

"I'm really glad that Belle's here."

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