Chapter Text
Belle French returned to Storybrooke as if emerging from a dream, reality staring her starkly in the face from beneath a thin layer of fresh snow.
It was a jarring sight. Despite spending most of the past decade in the States, snow at Christmas time was still an anomaly. Christmas should be hot. Spending the past two weeks back in Australia had only served to reinforce that belief. But now she was in Maine, back home as it were, and it was 31 degrees with flurries.
It was an hour bus ride from the airport in Bangor to Storybrooke and Belle rested her forehead against the cold glass of the window, staring out at the dead grass peeking through the scattered clumps of white, all blurring together. She wasn’t entirely certain what awaited her at home. She’d left things with Gold rather tentative, and despite several nice conversations over the phone and FaceTime, she wasn’t sure how things would be once they were face to face.
The pressure had been off for the past two weeks when they could talk without actually being in the same room. There was less risk of tearing each other’s clothes off for one. Well, Belle bit back a smile, not quite. Her father had received quite an eyeful from her iPad screen at one point.
Belle sighed as her thoughts turned to her father. He was in worse shape than she’d expected. It was clear he’d gone to some effort to clean up before her arrival but the years of neglect to the house weren’t so easily disguised. His belly had spread even more since she’d last seen him too and she was fairly certain he hadn’t had a vegetable since the last time she’d been home to cook one for him.
“Dad,” she said, taking in the litter of beer cans in the kitchen waste bin. “You’ve got to look out for yourself better. Cut back on the beers, maybe eat a salad on occasion?”
Moe French just grunted.
“I know,” he said. “But it’s just not worth cooking when you’re all by yourself. Going to all that work just to throw it in the bin.”
Belle raised an eyebrow. “I don’t suppose you’ve ever heard of leftovers?”
He squinched up his nose at that. “Makes the fridge smell.”
Belle rolled her eyes. Yes, she was certain cleanliness was the reason for takeaway pizza rather than cooking up some broccoli.
“Take care of yourself, dad,” she said wryly. “You want to live to see your grandchildren, don’t you?”
Moe raised an eyebrow. “Got any prospects on that front?”
Belle bit her lip, considering his question. She wasn’t really sure what she and Gold were at this point. She couldn’t rightly call him her boyfriend, but he was something surely. He was potential.
“There’s someone,” she said with a small nod.
Moe narrowed his eyes. “Back in Maine?” he asked. “An American?”
“He’s Scottish actually,” she corrected him.
“Your great Granny was Scottish,” Moe grunted. “Horrible old cow.”
He’d gone back to his chrysanthemums then and the conversation seemed over.
Belle had always found it incongruous how a big, gruff guy like her father could be so delicate with flowers, his big hands manipulating the soft buds into beautiful bouquets and works of art. His floral shop, while a chaotic riot of colors and smells, was the one place Moe French seemed to still take pride. He cared for his flowers meticulously, if not himself, and his green house was immaculate. At least the shop kept him active. She and her father had been distant ever since her mother passed away nearly a decade ago. Colette French had been the glue that held their family together. Without her, they were two people bound by blood with next to nothing in common.
Perhaps that’s why it was such a relief to be back in Maine, the snow such a change from home. Without her mum, Australia didn’t feel like home anymore and as much as Belle loved her father, his presence was a morose one. Belle looked like her mother, she knew. She got the impression that having her around caused her dad nothing but pain.
It was often said that nothing ever changed in Storybrooke, but that wasn't exactly true. Christmas had come in the weeks Belle had been away. It was dusk, night quickly encroaching as she arrived in town and as the bus turned on to Main Street she was met with an explosion of lights and garland. All the streetlights were decked with red bows and green wreaths. Granny’s Diner was covered in twinkling icicle lights. It seemed that every business in town had gone all out on the decorating front, all but one conspicuously unadorned shop front.
Belle shook her head as the bus rolled past the pawn shop, the only light coming from the lit up sign out front. Gold wasn’t one for holiday frivolity, but perhaps this year she could sway him.
The bus squealed to a halt at the bus stop near the far end of Main Street and Belle stood, stretching her stiff limbs. She’d been traveling for 24 hours straight and longed for nothing more than her own bed. She never slept well on airplanes and the stopover in Los Angeles had been longer than planned. The hour bus ride on top of the flights had left her feeling wrung out and grumpy and she really craved a shower. Running a hand over her face to stifle a yawn, Belle shouldered her carry on bag, trudging after the handful of other people disembarking the mostly empty bus. Her suitcase was being unloaded outside and she grabbed on to the handle, pulling her coat closer about her as she shivered in the night air.
The library and her tiny little apartment were at the opposite end of the street, only a few blocks really, but between the cold and her exhaustion it seemed longer. She sighed, wondering if she should pop in to Granny’s for a coffee first or just go straight home and collapse in her bed. Before she could decide, a voice called from behind her.
“Belle.”
She spun around, her hip knocking her suitcase until it tipped over and landed in a clump of slushy snow piled in the gutter.
“Jasper,” she exclaimed.
There he was, in the flesh, for the first time in weeks. He looked good, as usual, in a dark gray three-piece suit and thick black overcoat. There was a dusting of snow across his shoulders, a few icy pieces clinging to his hair.
“I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said, stepping forward and reaching for her toppled suitcase, bracing himself against his cane. He righted it, brushing wet snow away from the side of the case with one gloved hand and then offered her the handle.
“Thanks,” she said, taking it. “Hi.”
“Hi,” he returned, a small smile crossing his lips. Belle grinned back. “It’s good to see you.”
Belle’s hand came up to smooth back her ponytail. She was suddenly very aware that she’d foregone makeup to travel, her coat on over leggings and an oversized sweatshirt. She looked an absolute fright and he looked amazing.
“Did you come to meet me?” she asked, twisting her hand around the handle of her suitcase and feeling far more nervous than she could ever remember being in Gold’s company. Despite his fearsome reputation and the animosity between them, she'd never been intimidated by him. He'd been a thorn in her side, a constant threat to her employment, but she'd never cared what he thought of her. How quickly things could change.
“Well, you said you were getting in tonight,” Gold said a bit awkwardly. One hand gripped his cane, the other flapping about in the air as though he wasn’t sure what to do with it before limply falling to his side. “I thought I’d see if you needed a ride. In the…in the car.”
Belle pressed her lips together trying to stifle the laugh that wanted to bubble out. She’d never seen Gold so unsure of himself and it lessened her own nerves. They were both out of their element, unsure how to act around each other if they weren't yelling or fucking. They'd figure this out.
“It’s only a few blocks,” she said.
“But it’s cold,” he contended. “Wet. Let me drive you?”
He motioned to the Cadillac parked to the side of the street and Belle bit her lip, watching him closely. He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing above the collar of his deep plum dress shirt.
“Okay,” she said with a shrug.
Gold gave her a relieved smile, stepping forward once again to take her bag. He wheeled it around to the back of his car, putting it in the trunk and Belle slid into the passenger’s side seat, stuffing her hands into her coat pockets for warmth. A moment later, Gold joined her in the cab.
“Alright,” he said as he turned the key in the ignition. “Straight home or are there any errands you need to run first?”
“Home,” Belle said, sparing him a glance. “It’s been a long day of travel.”
“Of course,” Gold said, pulling out onto the street. There was only one traffic light between the bus station and the library, but they managed to hit the red light, the car slowing to a stop and the streetlights illuminating the interior of the car. It was quiet and still and suddenly unbearably awkward again. The last time Belle had seen Gold in person he had practically admitted to being in love with her. Well, he hadn't used the L word exactly, but he'd mentioned getting down on one knee so Belle was fairly certain of his feelings. His pretty words had swayed her from moving to Australia permanently, not that she’d need much reason to stay. She knew where Gold stood, and she knew her own feelings as well, but this was all so new. They'd known each other three years and spent most of that time at each other's throats. How did that translate to dating?
“How have you been?” she offered in hopes of some sort of conversation.
“Good,” Gold answered succinctly. He glanced across at her. “I missed you.”
Belle smiled, scooting closer to him on the bench seat.
“I missed you too,” she said. “Even though we spoke several times while I was gone.”
“We did,” he agreed as the light turned green and they started moving again. “Though we mostly spoke about the past, rather than the future.”
It was true that their conversations had mainly been about getting to know each other better, filling in the gaps of their lives. She’d told him about her mother, about growing up in Australia, about her travels. He’d told her about Glasgow, his father, things she never would have imagined he’d willingly offer up. And they’d talked about their own relationship, such as it was, why he’d been so hostile toward her when she first arrived.
It was good. They were good. But they hadn’t made any plans on where they were going and Belle felt as though she was out to sea without a compass or map.
“Well, the future is wide open,” she said as they pulled up in front of the library. “What would you like?”
Gold put the car in park and then settled his hands on the steering wheel. The snow was coming a little thicker now, illuminated in the glow of the car’s headlights, wisps of white clinging to the hood.
“I would…” he trailed off, licking his lips. “I would like to try to make a proper go of things with you, an actual relationship. Would that be amenable?”
He turned to face her, his dark eyes wide. It was still so strange to see Gold like this, uncertain and earnest, so incongruous with the suave and horrible man he’d been for three years.
Belle narrowed her eyes. “If you’re asking me on a date, it doesn’t have to sound so much like a contract. Are you really asking if I’m amenable to your terms?”
Gold looked exasperated.
“I’ve told you I’m not good at this,” he said, his hands dropping from the steering wheel to his lap. "The insults and arguments are easy, but being vulnerable?" he trailed off.
“You went on a date with Cora a few weeks ago,” she pointed out. “How did you ask her out?”
Gold fixed her with a bewildered look. “I didn’t. She set that up. And I already told you that wasn’t a date.”
“No, just an attempt to make me jealous. It did work, by the way.” She gave him a little wink to show she was joking, but Gold just shook his head.
“I’m sorry, Belle,” he said, and he looked it too. “I’m so sorry for everything.”
“I know you are, and you’ve apologized enough,” she said, settling her hand over his on his lap. “If you want to start over and do things right, go ahead and do it.”
“Do what?”
Belle shook her head.
"Start over," she said, kneeling up on the seat and thrusting out her hand to Gold. "Hi, I'm Isabelle French, the new librarian."
Gold's lips quirked up in one of his almost smiles and he turned to face her more directly on the seat, clasping her hand with his own.
"Jasper Gold, how do you do?"
"Quite well, thank you for asking," she said primly, pumping his hand a few times before releasing it. "Would you happen to be the same Mr. Gold as I saw on the pawn shop entering town?"
"One and the same," he said with a nod.
"What an interesting profession, I'll be sure to come and check out your shop once I'm more settled."
"I look forward to it," Gold said, that little half smile crossing his lips again. "I'm so happy to see the library up and running again. I'll be sure to apply for a library card as soon as possible."
Belle snorted a laugh. If only their first meeting had gone this smoothly. They wouldn't have wasted three years hating each other.
"Thank you for your patronage," she said sunnily.
Gold smiled at her, those elusive dimples she so loved gracing her with their presence. There was silence for a moment, and Belle looked at him expectantly. Gold just blinked.
"Well?" she prompted.
"Well, what?" he asked.
Belle rolled her eyes.
“Ask me on a date, you idiot!”
His eyes widened. "I wouldn't have asked you on a date within five minutes of meeting you. These things take time, ground work. To ask this quickly would be highly presumptuous."
"Yes it was much more conducive to insult my entire profession and then harass me for years on end."
Gold gave her an unamused look.
"Jasper," she said. "We're not really meeting for the first time. You've seen me naked. I think we can speed up the timeline just a smidge."
He snorted a laugh at that, taking both of her hands between his own.
"Miss French," he said. "Belle. Would you like to have dinner with me?”
She smiled widely, squeezing his hands.
“I would love to have dinner with a handsome, intelligent, and charming man like yourself, Mr. Gold.”
In the darkness of the car, she almost thought she saw a blush cross his cheeks, but she couldn't be sure. Gold needed the occasional compliment, she decided. Despite the swagger, he was so deeply insecure about all the things that made him desirable in the first place.
“I’m free tomorrow,” she prompted, leaning forward. “Say 8:00?”
“Perfect,” he said with a nod. “I look forward to it.”
“So do I.”
They sat there in silence for a moment, their hands still clasped together in the warm cab of his Cadillac as the snow fell around them. Then Belle stifled a yawn, ruining the moment. She really was exhausted.
"I should go inside," she said. "Get some sleep."
"Of course," he replied, dropping her hands and getting out of the car. He pulled her suitcase from the trunk before rounding the side of the car to open the door for her and help her out. A perfect gentleman.
Gold helped her get her luggage to the door of the library, the awning giving them protection from the thickening snow.
“Do you want to come up?” she asked as she jiggled her key in the lock. It always stuck in frosty weather and it took a few tries to get it open.
Gold lifted an eyebrow.
“I’m not sure that’s the right decision,” he said. "We've only just met after all and we're to be taking things slowly."
Belle rolled her eyes. “I didn’t mean like that,” she said. “You could come up for a cup of tea and some conversation.”
Gold still looked unconvinced.
“What, do you think I’m so libidinous I can’t control myself? That once I have you alone I’ll pounce? Trust me, you’re not that irresistible.”
“Perhaps not, but you are,” he said, gazing at her intensely. It sent a little shiver up Belle’s spine that had nothing to do with the weather and was a stark reminder that she hadn’t kissed him in a month.
She let out a little huff of breath. “Well when you go and say things like that,” she shook her head. “But honestly I’m way too tired. I flew halfway around the world today, you know. Massive jet lag.”
“I know,” he said with a smile. “And I’m happy you’re back.”
Belle bit her lip, looking up at him. She wanted the moment to last, to delay their parting no matter how exhausted she was. But they were starting over and inviting him up, even just to snuggle, was probably overstepping.
She placed a hand on his shoulder, the soft wool of his coat slightly damp, and reached up to kiss him on the cheek, the new growth of afternoon stubble rasping against her lips. Gold turned his head slightly, catching her mouth with his own, his lips brushing softly against hers. She let out a little moan as she let her arms wrap around his neck, deepening the kiss. Gold's free hand went to her lower back, pressing her gently against him, his lips pulling at hers, far too gentle and chaste for her liking. Before things could get too interesting, Gold pulled away and Belle let out a disappointed sound from the back of her throat.
"I couldn't resist," he said lowly, his breath warm against her face.
Belle shivered, her hands drifting down to rest against his chest.
"I can't believe you'd kiss a woman you'd only just met."
Gold snorted. "A woman I've seen naked. I think we can speed up the timeline just a smidge."
Belle scrunched up her nose at hearing her own words thrown back at her, patting his chest as she stepped away.
"Well that's as fast as we're going tonight," she said, turning back to the library door and forcing it open. "I've got a hot date with my bed and I can't have any distractions, even one so pleasurable as yourself."
Gold ducked his head, backing away toward his car.
"Parting is such sweet sorrow," he quoted, laying a hand against his heart.
"I shall say goodnight till it be morrow," Belle returned.
With one last smile he turned and opened his car door.
"Goodnight, Belle," he called.
“Goodnight, Jasper!"
In the end, Belle didn't make it to her bed. Instead she dropped her bags by the front door and face planted across the sofa, pulling a throw blanket from the arm over herself and burrowing in for a long nap. She'd probably be up in the middle of the night, wide awake, anyway due to the time change. She rolled on to her back, watching the shadows play across her living room ceiling and gave a contented sigh.
She'd never been in love before, but she was certain she could grow used to the feeling.