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ryik-the-writer · 4 years

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Note: I started this fic way back in 2016, and had this Thanksgiving-themed chapter planned in advance.

Over four years and several bouts of depression-induced writers blocks later, I’m glad to finally get it out.

I present to you: Marinara Main - Burnt Bits I . Feat. Rumbelle and a big dash of baby! swanfire.

A03

Mr. Gold pulled into Belle’s next stop, smiling at her apologetic grin as she jumped out and grabbed two pizzas from the back and bounded up the stairs to her customer’s home.

It had been two months since Belle’s French Bread’s business car had burst into flames, setting off a chain of events that involved him lending his assistance, or just his vehicle really, on her deliveries and them dating on the side. It was where they could be together without the mocking or overbearing look from the town. It was theirs, and even if Belle was delivering pizzas and Gold was just watching from the window, they were together and having the seats smell like melted cheese was worth every second.

“How’d it go?” he inquired when she jumped back in the front seat.

She leaned in and kiss his 5 o’clock shadowed cheek. “$6 tip.”

“Hmm. I should have glared at him a little more, make him drop a full $10.”

Belle gave him an unamused look. “I asked you not to scare my customers.”

“Just making sure they’re not gouging you, dear.”

Belle sighed. She knew her sweetheart meant well, but she valued her independence. She swallowed her pride when he offered her his car for the sake of her family’s business, and held her head tall when she moved into his spare room after her accident, but drew the line with him bullying her customers into paying her sums she wasn’t offered.

It was there last delivery of the night so Belle decided to drop the disagreement for now. She had other things to worry about anyway.

“Didn’t you say Bae had an old bike gathering dust in your garage?”

“I’ve began using it as a garden decoration it’s been sitting around for so long. Why?”

“How much would you want for it?” she hated equating money into their conversations. It was gross reminder of their status difference, something he swore up and down he kept forgetting about but haunted her.

Mr. Gold slowed to a stop at the stop light. “Belle, I apologize for earlier. I was just being facetious, I swear.”

Belle paused. “Thank you for that, but what does that have to do with the bike?”

“You don’t want me to drive you around anymore.”

Belle cringed at the accusation. “That’s not it at all!”

He sagged in his seat with relief and Belle couldn’t help but laugh, relaxing when he joined her. They really needed to work on not jumping to conclusions.

“What do you need a bike for then?” He inquired.

“I don’t want you working on Thanksgiving.” She answered.

Gold looked at her. “Your father is making you work on the holiday? Is he mad?”

Belle rolled her eyes. She wondered sometimes if her father really was.

“No, just blinded by dollar signs. I read him something about how in China people have fried chicken instead of turkey and now he’s convinced that if we’re open people will forgo the turkey and order a pizza.”

“Logical.” Gold deadpanned, speeding up at the green light. “As for the bike, never you mind. You can borrow my car.”

“Won’t you and Bae be going away for the holiday?”

Mr. stared at the road ahead. “It’s always been just the two of us. Not much to celebrate really.”

Belle felt her heart sink, knowing that story all too well. After her mom died, Belle had her father spent many holidays in their quiet home with TV dinners in their laps and a game blaring. After he opened the business, holidays got livelier but there was still this sickening loneliness that bounced around in her gut.

“Well, I’ll just have to convince my dad to close shop early.”

Gold blinked from his gaze and turned to her. “Why’s that?”

“Because I’m going to need his help turkey shopping if we’re having you and Bae over.”

Gold startled back the horn, his hands flinching around a he tried to grasp the proposition.

“I…no Belle really. We couldn’t impose.”

“You’d be doing me a favor actually. I haven’t had a proper Thanksgiving meal in years.”

Gold pulled into the parking lot of French Bread. He wanted to say know, wanted to save her the burden of having him invade her home on a day that was restricted for family. However, he couldn’t resist the hopeful gleam in her eyes.

He sighed and nodded. Belle squealed and nearly jumped into his seat, kissing him roughly on the cheek.

“This is going to be great! I got to go make out a menu! I’ll call you tomorrow!”

He said nothing as she charged from his car to her business. He waited until the light came on before he made his way quietly home.

After checking on Bae’s homework situation, he stepped into his office and discretely pulled out the antique ring he had planned to offer Belle.

He wanted to be excited, and in a way, he was. His son would be able to have more festive holiday and he’d be able to spend more time with Belle, and hopefully find the right time to ask her the big question.

But crowds were not his forte, and he still wasn’t sure how her “boys” felt about him, let alone her father. He did not want to face another kidnapping escapde like he did on “poker night.”

Sighing, he left the ring alone for now, making a mental note to stop by the liquor store on his way to Belle’s tomorrow for two bottles of wine: one for tonight and another for the holiday.

-,-,-,-,-

Belle double-checked her table setting as fidgeted around the small kitchen of her and her father’s apartment.

Five plates were set: her and her father’s, Mr. Gold’ and Bae’s, and a guest her father had invited that may or may not show up.

Jefferson and Grace were heading to Jefferson’s in-laws, whom they both hated but had to visit at least once a year to avoid a nasty custody battle (which often lead to a week of pre-panic attacks from Jefferson; thank God they put that cot in the backroom).

Merlin was heading to dinner near Boston for a football game, and then to a children’s hospital, and Will was meeting Anastasia’s parents for the first time and asked only for prayers.

Belle checked the clock; it was just past 12:30 and “dinner” started at 2:30. She never quite understood this tradition of eating so early, but decided not to argue when she had five stomachs to worry about.

Belle hummed as she thought about her father. He had left early in the morning to pick up their “mystery guest”.

Thank Gods.

Moe French had started their pizzeria on a whim all those years ago, and really had no legit culinary skills. If it weren’t for her and Merlin jumping in and secretly taking over, French Bread’s would have literally burned to the ground. All his recipes had to be seriously revamped, but thankfully Moe was out half the time, handling the books or the equipment or something else that kept him far away from the food.

Just as Belle was checking the turkey’s temperature, a knock thundered through her father’s tiny apartment. Belle panicked a bit. Whoever was at the door was extremely early, and the she had no idea how she would entertain them for two hours while she tried to finish the meal.

She threw her oven mitts on the table and rushed to answered the door before anything burned, blinking at who was there.

“Hey,” Jefferson smiled shyly.

“Hi Jeff,” Belle greeted, stepping aside to allow them entry. “What can I…”

She glanced around him and noticed Grace wasn’t with him, which wasn’t a surprise, but he was supposed to be with her.

Belle asked bit urgently. It was no secret that Jefferson had major issues with his late-girlfriend’s family. They never thought he was good enough for her, and all but disowned her when she fell pregnant. Following her death when Grace was just over a year old, they suddenly wanted sole custody. Pinning down a job at French Bread’s had been the first step to securing Grace’s future, and Belle had been so patience with his back-and-forth court dates while he sorted himself out.

She only hoped something wasn’t stopping him from attending his mandatory dinner.

“What’s going on?”

“They um…” Jefferson shrugged. “I…decided not to go.”

Belle eyed him carefully, seeing the bags under his eyes.

“Ah,” Belle said with an affirmative nod, knowing now that she couldn’t turn him away, holiday or not. Her and the rest of the French Bread’s crew were all he really had.

She stepped aside. “You’re on dishes duty.”

“Deal!” Jefferson gasped, pulling her close and giving her a smack on the cheek so loud it made Belle’s ears ring.

“Down boy!” Belle hissed, giving him a playful smack. “You stir the beans while I move the table around.”

Belle had just placed two more plates down when someone knocked on the door yet again.

She answered it with a huff, and was a bit surprised to see Merlin enter, a brown bag in his hand.

“Hi,” she greeted a bit uneasily. Merlin had left after closing yesterday to make his trip, and wasn’t due back until Sunday. By the look on his face, he hadn’t stopped to rest.

She ushered him to the kitchen where Jefferson pulled out a chair for him to sit.

“What is it?” she asked earnestly, unnerved to see her strong-minded friend in such a state.

“Nimue was at my hotel,”

Belle and Jefferson both paled. Belle didn’t know all the details about Merlin’s borderline insane ex-girlfriend, but did know that he came to Storybrooke to get away from her.

“How did she know you were there?”

“I have no idea,” Merlin sighed, exhausted. “I saw her before she saw me, and I got out of there as fast as possible,”

Belle nodded, sharing a look with Jefferson.

“How about you stay for dinner,” Belle insisted. “We’ll walk you home tonight.”

Merlin began to stand, muttering something about not wanting to impose, and Belle had to stand on her toes to weigh him down.

“You’re imposing as much as Jefferson over here is,” Belle joked. “Help me figure out this new table arrangement.”

As her friends helped her in the kitchen, Belle glanced down at her phone. Nothing from Gold or Bae yet.

Belle frowned, wondering what was keeping her kind-of boyfriend and his son, and more importantly if she was going to be able to fit them in her tiny apartment now that there were so many extra people.

Just as she about to pull out the chair she had in her bedroom, the doorbell sounded once more.

“I’ll get it,” Merlin volunteered. Like Belle, he hoped it was the Gold’s.

The resounded “oh” he released afterwards gave Belle the answer she needed.

“Hello darlings!” came a high accented voice.

Everyone turned as a tall blonde woman head to toe in scarlet entered Belle’s tiny living room, wearing sunglasses that left only the tip of her nose exposed.

She gasped and inspected Belle’s home like a tourist who has stepped foot onto Time Square for the first time, even looking at her and her guests like they were performers.

Merlin and Belle exchanged curious looks, and just as she was about to ask who the tell was in her home, Will came bounding through the house, throwing a series of suitcases into her entryway.

He collapsed against the door, looking up with her a nervous smile.

“Hey…”

“Hi,” Belle greeted, eyeing the blond as she examined her father’s dusty shelf of knickknacks. “What’s uh…what’s going on, Will?”

Just as she said that the woman turned around, approaching Belle with a wide smile.

“Darling, thank you so much for having us,” she said as she kissed Belle’s cheek.

Belle stared at her wide-eyed, shooting another at Will.

“You remember, Belle,” Will said with a strained smile. “You said you wanted Ana and I here for Thanksgiving and you wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

Belle’s eye twitched. “Of course…” she said, her mind going into overdrive as she struggled to think how she was going to fit nine damn people at two-person table.

She snuck a calming breath. This is what holidays were about, and there was no way in Hell she was turning Will, a man she saw as a brother, out the door.

Besides, she and the other men of French Bread’s were wondering about this mystery girl Will would take weekends off to see, would take extra shifts for so that he could make a few extra bucks. The four of them had everything on the table when it came to each other, all their past and present secrets.

Or so Belle thought.

Still, she smiled whole-heartedly. “It’s great to meet you, Ana,”

Ana offered a wide, glass-like smile. “Thank you, your home is so,” she glanced around. “…simple!”

All the goodwill Belle was ready to extend crumbled around her, and it was then all the little details Belle had noticed about her had gathered together.

High quality clothes and accessories, gawking at simple, working people.

She was a rich bitch. Like Regina, like countless other people who turned her nose up at people like them.

Belle glanced at Will. Did he know? Did he care?

His gaze was pitiful, begging her not to say anything.

He did know then. Belle felt a bite of betrayal on her heart. Why would he deliberately associate with someone like her, someone who would only hurt him.

A calming hand met her shoulder, and Belle met Merlin’s warning glare.

“Ana,” he greeted. “Please make yourself at home. Belle, Will and I are going to work on the seating situation.”

Ana nodded, a pleased gasp escaping her lips when she studied her father’s tacky decorations.

Merlin steered Belle and Will into the kitchen where he and Jefferson had watched the exchange.

“Thanks for the heads-up, Will,” Belle sighed exhaustedly.

“It was really last-minute, I’m sorry,” Will said.

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it,”

Will’s gaze melted into a glare. “And just what is that supposed to mean?”

“Okay,” Merlin said, moving between them. “How about we try to get through dinner before we start class warfare, okay?”

Belle and Will glared at each other, but it was Belle’s whose gaze lowered first.

“You’re right,” Belle agreed. “We have to figure out this seat issue before we all end up in the park.”

Will met her smile. They’d work it out, but now they had to make an already stressful day suitable for everyone, including his unexpected guest.

“What if we ate on the floor, Chinese-style?” Jefferson suggested.

They all chuckled, the sour mood broken some.

“That might be our only option, hands in everyone,”

Four hands piled on each other as a plan came into place. They were putting on Thanksgiving dinner even if a wall had to be torn down.

“One…”

“Two…”

“Three!”

0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Meanwhile…

“Stop moving!” Emma gnashed Baelfire as she glared at his puffy finger under the high-powered magnified glass in his father’s study, the glistening stone of Belle’s hopefully-soon-to-be engagement ring glistening.

“Sorry,” Bae sniffed, and Emma sighed.

“Hold it together, Bae,” Emma warned gently, reaching out to pat his son’s shoulder. “This isn’t…well actually this is your fault.”

“It’s as much as my fault as it is yours,” Bae barked. It had been a joke, when he tried on the ring he found on his father’s desk. He’d brought it to Emma and the two gushed and joked at the engagement that was to come, ready to giddily tease Bae’s father when he came out of the shower, and get the details about the obvious proposal on the way. But when Bae had slipped it on—just as a joke mind you— he knew instantly there was a problem. It was too tight, and his finger began turning pink from the strain.

Now they were struggling to get the thing off, half dressed in their holiday best for Thanksgiving dinner.

Emma released an aggravated sigh. “We’re going to have to go to the hospital.”

“But we’ll lose the ring!”

“I think your dad would rather lose the ring than your finger!” Emma argued.

Bae pondered quickly. This would ruin everything.

The ring had belonged to his dad’s Aunt Genevieve, one half of the spinster aunts that raised him. They died long before Bae was even born, but with all the stories he told of them, of how much they loved each other during a time where the law and world wouldn’t see them as one, he already knew them.

The ring was one of love, one that his father had held onto and hadn’t even given to Bae’s mother (she was more of a diamond person). But Belle would appreciated the story behind it, and she would wear it with pride.

No!

Bae jumped up and began desperately searching for anything that could be used to slide off the ring.

“Let’s go get some dish soap,” Bae began to suggest when the sound of his father leaving the bathroom echoed from the hall.

“Well, we’re screwed,” Emma shrugged.

“Not yet,” Bae denied, mind reeling with thought. If his dad caught them, they’d be at the hospital with a saw before they knew what hit them!

“Check the desks,” Bae suggested in a hoarse whispered. “Maybe he has ink or oil from his antiques or something!”

Emma gasped. “We have baby oil at my place! We can sneak it out before my parents catch on!”

“Yes!” Bae hissed, heading to the door.

“Bae, where are you?” Gold called close by, causing Emma and Bae to shrink back.

Emma glanced around and made a b-line to the window. She opened it and made a quick survey of the distance and began stepping out.

“What are you doing!” Bae hissed, panicked.

“What does it look like?” Emma hissed back. “We should be find if we jump from here.”

“Jump! Off the roof?” Bae squeaked.

Emma glared up at him from her place near the gutters. “You want to risk it or you want to wait for your dad to find us and kill you for sure.”

Bae glanced back to the door where he could hear his father moving about. With a groan, he stepped out of the window, gripping the tiles for dear life as Emma led them to the draining pipe.

“Hold on tight and slowly slide down,” Emma instructed, easing onto the pipe.

“How do you know about this?” Bae whined as he watched her slide down like a firefighter on a pole.

Emma gave him a look when she hit the ground, placing her hands on her hips and waiting for him expectedly.

Gulping, Bae took hold of the pipe, trying to steady his breathing as he tried to gain a hold. He tried to up it with his shoes, but slipped instantly, having to grab the gutter to keep from falling.

“Shit, shit!” Emma gasped as Bae hung from the gutter. “Just…don’t think about the ground!”

“Thanks for the adv—”

The gutter snapped, and Bae managed to hold onto the bending metal until it started snapping off the foundation and Bad landed head-first into a neatly trimmed shrub.

“Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit!” Emma panicked, grabbing hold of Bae’s leg. “Please be alive, please be alive…”

Bae groaned and slowly sat up, his face scratched and eyes unfocused.

“Anything feel broken?” Emma asked as she carefully picked leaves and twigs out of his curls.

“My brain’s still shaking, hang on,” Bae groaned.

“Bae?” Gold’s voice echoed from the office above.

“Break’s over!” Emma hissed, grabbing Bae and dragged him through the back garden and down the street.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Mary Margaret Nolan was –understandably – quite surprised when she answered the door and found the young Baelfire Gold and her daughter standing on her steps.

“Hi Mrs. Nolan,” Bae greeted with just the lightest air of nervousness.

“Hi, Bae,” Mary Margaret greeted uncertainly. “I…wasn’t expecting you. Emma, it’s nearly dinner time. Your grandparents are here…”

“He won’t be here long,” Emma cut in, grabbing Bae’s arm and drug him up the stairs.

“Hold it,” Mary Margaret called after them. “You know the rules, Emma…”

“We’re not going to my room!” Emma called back, rolling her eyes. She never understood why her parent’s suddenly put the “no boys in bedroom” rule in place earlier that year. Bae’s dad let them be by their selves at their place, especially on their video game-movie-pizza nights in the basement.

Oh well.

Keeping a glance over her shoulder, she led Bae to baby Neal’s room, watching every step to avoid making even the slightest noise.

“Maybe I should do it,” Bae suggested when they stood outside his room.

“No,” Emma resisted, slowly turning the knob. “If he sees you, he might freak out. Just be quiet.”

Bae rolled his eyes but stayed outside the room, waiting impatiently as Emma tip-toed into her baby brother’s room to grab the baby oil.

His father was bound to start calling him or the Nolan’s soon. They needed to get the ring off and back to his place soon.

“Find it yet, Emma?” Bae hissed as he opened the door a crack, meeting baby Neal’s large green eyes.

Bae grinned nervously at the babe, not entirely sure how to act around children. Apparently it wasn’t the right thing because Neal burst out screaming at the site of him.

“Damn it Bae,” Emma cursed, grabbing his arm and pulling him from Neal’s room as Mrs. Nolan called up the stairs.

Emma dragged him into the bathroom just as Mary Margaret sped up the steps to comfort Neal, leaving the two teens holding their breaths and listening to every step she took.

Emma snatched Bae’s hand to hold over the sink, dousing it with baby oil and trying desperately to yank the ring off.

“You’re pulling my whole damn finger!” Bae cursed, yanking away hard and hitting the door.

Emma dropped the baby oil, the plastic echoing through the small bathroom sounding like a bomb.

“Emma?” Mary Margaret’s voice rang, knocking on the door a second later.

Emma quickly locked it, flinching when her mother gasped and began wriggling the knob.

“Emma Ruth Nolan what is going on in there!”

Bae muttered a word that his father would have grounded him a month for while Emma began pushing open the tiny bathroom window.

“We’ve got to risk it,” she gasped, her blond locks flying wildly as she judged their distance.

“Oh…no!” Bae shook his head, stepping back. “I am not going through another window!”

Mary Margaret continued to pound on the door, shaking the knob profusely.

“That’s it young lady…David!”

Emma and Bae stiffened. David Nolan was a great man, but as a father he was more terrifying than a rabid bat in a Halloween haunted house when it came to his children’s well-being.

As they heard the Nolan patriarch’s boots shake the house, Emma and Bae scrambled to the window, now suddenly eager to make a quick get-away.

“Me first, he wants my blood!” Bae hissed.

“No!” Emma seethed, pushing Bae away by his face. “Me first, and watch me this time so you don’t die!”

Bae reluctantly stepped back and helped Emma ease out of the small bathroom window legs-first, sweating profusely as Mrs. Nolan relayed the locked door situation to Mr. Nolan.

“Hurry it up!” he begged as Emma grabbed his collar to pull him unceremoniously through the tiny window as her father began banging on the door.

“You have a big head, Bae!” Emma snapped as they struggled to get his shoulders through the window. Hearing Mr. Nolan’s booming voice threatening to break the door (and Bae’s legs—thought that may have been his anxiety spiraling), Bae wormed his way out until he clutching the tiles of Emma’s roof.

Emma had already located the steady gutter near her room and called out to Bae to follow her lead.

“Slowly…slowly!” she instructed as Bae struggled to grasp onto the gutters with his swollen finger. “Our gutters are cheaper than yours.”

Bae growled as he slid down the tiles, the toe of his shoe sliding over the metal of the gutter.

Just as he thought he had a chance to get off this damn roof without injury, the tell-all sound of the bathroom door bursting open shocked him to the point that he lost his grip on the roof and went spiraling down.

Emma released the drain and flew down the extra five feet, hitting the ground hard.

“Bae?” she cried, helping her friend turn over.

Bae groaned, holding his head as he looked at his best friend.

“We’re having a talk about all this when this is over.”

Emma smirked and helped him up. “Let’s get to Belle’s.”

Just as the words left her mouth the two youths heard a loud bang from upstairs.

They managed to squeeze behind a hedge before Emma’s head shot out of the window, his murderous gaze burning into the ground.

“Baelfire Gold you better have one hell of an explanation for this or I’m going to shake one from you!”

Sweaty bullets ran down the young Gold’s back, his body numb even as Emma began dragging him away.

“We got to go!”

“I…I think I’m having a heart attack…”

“Move it!”

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Gold searched the misty streets of Storybrooke as calmly as his racing mind would allow.

Bae had snuck out for some odd reason, and if he didn’t have the explanation of his lifetime he’d be grounded until he graduated high school!

To add to the mystery, he could have sworn he’d heard Emma in his office as well.

The pawnbroker sighed and wondered if he had to give Bae the old birds and the bees talk again. His son was a few months shy of 15, and had been more than responsible when it came to such matters since the last time they had that talk last year, especially when it came to Emma Nolan.

He trusted his son to mind himself around the Sherriff’s daughter, and had shown any romantic interest in her. Why Gold didn’t want to jump to conclusions, he was worried that those interests may be changing if they were locking themselves in rooms now.

Just as he was about to turn around, the all too familiar sound of police sirens wailed behind him, the mulit-colored lights instantly causing his head to throb.

“I don’t have time for this!” he cursed, jumping out of the car as they both pulled to a stop.

Sherriff David Nolan stepped out, looking unamused.

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you never to leave a car when a cop pulls you over?”

Gold glared at his sometimes acquaintance. He and David got along like sheep and sheep dogs: they did much better a part, and there wasn’t a promise that teeth wouldn’t be used during their encounters.

“When an actual cop pulls me over, I’ll remember that,” Gold snarled.

David frowned. “Okay, enough niceties, I saw your son and my daughter jump out of my bathroom window. I want to know why and where they are now. I have angry in-laws and an even angrier wife, and I am not going back to them without my daughter.”

Gold’s eyes widened. It was worse than he thought. Something was going on with them, and he needed to get to them before they got into any more trouble.

And there was really only one person he could think of that his son would run to.

“I’m not sure, but I will find them,” Gold said, returning to his car.

“Hold it,” David said, placing a hand on the hood of Gold’s car. “You know something, so either I come with you or we can settle this at the station.

Gold gave him a bland look. They both knew David wouldn’t dare, but like Gold, he was a terrified parent and would make any threats necessary to ensure the safety of his daughter.

He motioned to the passenger door, hoping Belle wouldn’t mind an extra guest for the holiday.

“Get in.”

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Belle managed to hold her tongue as the blonde bombshell gawked at her cooking. It was cute in a way, honestly, her general interest, but Belle couldn’t decide if it was out of delight or judgment.

She glanced into the living room where Will and the rest of the men were rearranging furniture to accommodate for all the extra people. He looked at her as well, begging her to accept Ana.

Belle sighed. “Would you…like to help?”

Ana’s well-manicured hands shot up. “Oh no, darling. I’ve never worked in a kitchen before.”

Belle held back a snort and helped Ana position the bowl of sweet potatoes she had been mashing and showed her how to hold the masher.

“Just keep crushing them until their smooth, no lumps. Then we’re going to put them in a dish and cover it with brown sugar and marshmallows for a casserole.”

Ana’s eyes widened as she awkwardly mashed the potatoes.

“Is this…a meal…all people eat?”

Belle bristled a bit. “It’s pretty popular for this holiday, though I don’t mind eating it whenever sweet potatoes are on sale.”

Ana paused. “You eat discounted food?”

Belle gripped the counter. “Yes, some of us can’t afford lobster and steak every night.”

“What was that?”

“I said I need to check on the turkey,” Belle replied, and it was both the true and a distraction.

Belle opened the boiling oven and poked at her crisping bird. It was the first she had made that wasn’t from a bag, and she wanted it to be perfect…as perfect at her pizza making skills would allow that is.

As she was reapplying the tin foil, Ana came to look over her shoulder.

“Oh, it’s so hot!” she laughed, the sound light and chirpy.

“Maybe don’t get so closed to it,” Belle muttered, slamming the oven shut.

Ana jumped back, tensing when Belle brushed past her.

Belle returned to cutting vegetables for the dressing, Ana coming beside her to continue smashing the smooth potatoes paste.

Belle glanced to the living room at Will’s pleading glance and continued to force conversation for his sake.

“So, what do you do for a living?” Belle inquired.

“Oh,” Ana answered cheerfully. “A little of this, a little of that. Usually I’m in a plane being catered off to some event or another.”

Belle hummed, unsurprised. “Sounds nice.”

“Will tells me you own your own business,” Ana offered.

“You’re standing above it,” Belle returned, chuckling a bit. She was rather surprised to hear Ana return the sediment.

At least she had a sense of humor. Maybe she wasn’t so bad after all.

“Of course, business would be charitable at best.”

Belle’s knife stilled, the small hairs on the back of her neck standing on end.

“I…beg your pardon?”

Ana giggled, not yet knowing the beast she was about to unleash.

“Oh, it’s a sweet little hobby, darling, but you can’t possibly find it profitable,” Ana said, sweet as overly sugared coffee.

Belle gripped the knife she was holding, struggling to hold back all the nasty instincts she had to smash the blonde in front of her.

Yet…Ana was right.

French Bread had been operating in the red for years, but they’d always been pretty well off. Moe managed to keep everyone employed however, and were overall comfortable.

Belle had never looked at her business as a hobby. She saw it as a lifeline, one that she liked at that.

She made something that people liked. She offered her business for fundraisers for the local schools, and took pizzas to families after a loss or birth.

She was a member of this community, and damn it she was a business owner, no matter what she made.

Before she could defend her very livelihood—or even throw Ana’s arse out—Baelfire and a panting Emma Nolan came bustling in, slamming the door and locking it as if they were being chased.

“Bae?” Belle gasped. “What on earth—”

“You got to help us!” Emma gasped, grabbing Bae’s hand.

“No,” he protested, squirming in her grip.

Emma dragged him to her level, glaring fiercely.

“My dad’s probably on his way here with a hatchet, and I do want to jump out of another window!”

“Wait, what?” Belle demanded.

Emma snatched Bae’s hand up, showing Belle his swollen finger.

Belle gasped. “Bae, why are you wearing this?”

Bae gulped, glancing at Emma. “I…well…you see…”

Belle shook her head and led him to the couch.

“Merlin, can you grab my first aid kit? It’s under the bathroom sink.”

Merlin nodded and set off.

“Will, I need some ice, we need to get the swelling down.”

“I’ll get it!” Ana volunteered, practically skipping to the kitchen. “Oh, ice trays, how cute!”

Belle’s eye twitched. “Will…”

Will quickly got the ice from Ana, handing it to Bae without meeting Belle’s eyes.

“Crazy day, eye lad?”

“Yeah…” Bae said, wincing as Belle examined his hand.

“What happened, and where’s your dad?” Belle inquired.

“Probably right on our asses,” Emma muttered. Jefferson chuckled.

Merlin handed Belle the kit and winced at the purple digit.

“Maybe we should get Whale down here?

“NO!” Bae and Emma shouted.

“He’ll cut it,” Bae said. “Then it’ll be ruined.”

“I think your dad would be more concerned about Whale cutting off your finger than a ring from his inventory.” Belle said.

Bae looked down guiltily at the ring unknowingly meant for his possible future step-mother.

A family heirloom and a proposal would be lost today on his account. It was almost too much to bare, especially after he nearly died trying to save them both.

It’d hurt to tell Belle, but he was going to be grounded until after new year’s anyway. Might as well attempt to save one.

“Wait, Belle,” Bae begged as she was dialing the number. “I need to tell you—”

A loud pound on the front door cut him off.

“Baelfire Gold,” came David Nolan’s booming voice.

“Shit!” Emma and Bae hissed, instantly searching for a window.

“What on earth…” Belle began as Merlin began to open the door, only to have David push it open with his weight.

His heated stare instantly fell on Bae, and then on his sweating daughter.

“What is going on with you two?” he demanded.

“Dad, I can explain!” Emma swore as Bae shot up to stand behind her.

He looked back and forth between the two teens, and then finally the ring on Bae’s finger.

“Oh hell no!” he exclaims, jumping to the most severe conclusion.

Bae and Emma followed his glare, paled, and then looked at each other.

“Whoa, no, no!” she burst.

“You two are too young to get married have you lost your mind!” he yelled.

Belle stepped in front of the teens, trying to bring peace back into her living room.

“David, don’t be ridiculous,” Belle instantly defended, ducking beside Bae. “Right?”

“No!” Bae burst, pulling away from Belle. “This whole thing is because—”

The door flew open once more and Mr. Gold burst in, panting like he just ran a marathon.

“I told you to wait for me, Nolan!” he barked. “There’s three flights of steps to get through!”

“It’s a good thing I’m here, they were about to run off together!” the deputy fought.

Gold looked at his son, eyes instantly drawn to his swollen finger and the ring suffocating it.

He paled a bit, and looked at a frazzled Belle, and then the other guests in her home who looked just as confused as she (except the blonde who looked amused —who was she?)

“Belle,” he began, gripping his cane tightly. “I can explain.”

“You explain in the station,” David said, heading to Bae. “We’re going to have a talk young man—”

Gold stepped in front of him, snarling like a wolf protecting its cub.

“Like hell you are!”

“Oh this is exciting!” Ana cheered.

“For god’s sake.” Belle groaned.

“Okay, everyone calm down,” Merlin tried to sooth as Gold and David went at each other.

“Your son is a menace!”

“Your daughter was the one who was dragging him out of windows!”

“Oh my god I want to die!”

The piercing sound of the ancient fire alarm screaming through the air.

Jefferson fist-pumped the air. “Yelling feels really good right now!”

Belle looked around at her chaos-filled living room, her heart clenching.

All she wanted was a nice dinner with her friends and family – the first real nice dinner she’d had in years at that!

Jaw clenched, blood boiling, she turned to step into the kitchen, Will and Merlin watching her carefully.

Grabbing her broom, she aimed the handle at the screaming fire detector and promptly stabbed it, the thing slowly dying with a low whine.

The room became quiet, all eyes turning to the fuming woman. Even Ana had stilled, this part of the simple life mostly unappealing.

Belle turned to turn off the stove and donned oven mitts, glaring at Merlin when he offered to assist.

She removed the scorched bird, taking a moment to mourn what could have been, before turning to her terrified onlookers.

“You,” she growled, pointing at Gold. “You said you could explain, so tell me, what the everlasting hell is happening here tonight?”

Gold gaped at her, his heart pounding. He couldn’t tell if he was utterly terrified of her or madly in love.

Well, the later was a no-brainer. That was the whole reason he had delicately cleaned his great-aunt’s ring. He wanted her in his life as long as she would have him.

He looked at his son. The boy was no doubt facing a very long probation for putting him through all this, but he very honestly looked remorseful.

Gold looked at Belle, beautiful, bright, brilliant Belle. The woman he loved. The woman who’d brought so much life into his gray world.

Belle continued to stare at him expectantly, and Gold knew he needed to act now if he didn’t want to get sent through a window.

He turned to his son, frowning, and held out his hand.

Confused, Bae reached out his ringed-hand, and gasped when his father represented his whole hand to Belle.

Gold carefully got down on his good knee, the spectators in the room alighting when the realized what was occurring.

Belle’s face as well melted, her cheeks pinking.

“Belle,” he began. “I love you so much. These last few months have been some of the best of my life and I want to have so many more, years in fact.”

Belle’s knees began to shake. She hadn’t planned for this. She wasn’t ready. They should be somewhere nicer than her dingy apartment. She should be in a nicer dress. They should…they should…

“So as soon as a I pry this ring off my son’s finger…”

Bae winced.

“Clean and resize it, I…I would very much like you to be my wife.”

Belle could only stare, all words lost. Is this what true, unabridged happiness felt like?

“Well?” Jefferson urged, causing Will and Merlin to shush him harshly.

David had already brought out his phone and was recording dutifully.

“For mom?” Emma chuckled.

“Oh yeah, she loves this stuff.”

Belle released a wet laugh, tears building behind her eyes.

“I…I…”

The door swung open before she could answer, her headset father clambering in and shivering.

“Sorry I’m late Be…” he looked around and the myriad of strangers in his living room.

His eyes particularly zeroed in on Gold—the man who almost ruined his business not too long ago—who had hastily released his son’s hand and was slowly rising from his knee.

“What on earth?”

“I…think the market might have one more turkey we can grab,” Merlin suggested, clutching Jefferson and Will’s shoulders. “Let’s go see.”

The two men dared not protest. Will quickly took Ana’s hand and led her from the apartment before Belle went off on them all.

“It was lovely to meet you darlings!” she said, not seeing Belle exaggerated eye roll.

David stopped his phone and poked Emma’s shoulder, motioning that they really needed to leave.

“Bye Bae,” she whispered, signaling for him to text her later as Moe and David nodded awkwardly to each other.

“Well that’s different, the former Australian citizen said.

“I swear dad, there’s a reason for all of this,” Belle gasped, feeling a bit calmer once Gold was straight by her side.

There was a sound outside, and Moe peeked out the door, saying something so soft that Belle nor Gold could pick it.

“We can talk about this later,” Moe said, chirpier than he was a moment ago. “I really need you to meet someone.”

Belle blinked, wondering if this someone was the reason her father had been so absent from his business—and her life—for the last several months.

She glanced at Gold, who was frowning sulkily. A beautiful, abet odd, proposal had been smite, he was hurting.

Belle took hold of his hand, smiling when he met his eyes.

It’s okay, she said, we can try again.

He smiled back, thankful.

Moe stepped aside to allow, to Belle’s slight surprise, a woman enter.

Like Ana, she was elegantly dressed, though didn’t stand out quite like she had.

There was almost a familiarity to her, the way her shoulders straightened and her hands clasped over her hips, like someone in charge.

However, her attention was brought back to her current boyfriend. His hand had fallen from hers, leaving her cold, and confused.

“Belle, I’d like you to meet—”

“Why Mr. Gold,” the woman greeted, carefully.

She stepped forward, and Belle suddenly felt like she was being advanced by a wolf.

“How lovely it is to see you.”

Belle shot to her boyfriend. He was pale, trembling just enough that she could feel the vibrations in the old wood of her apartment floor.

Gold couldn’t find the words he needed. Couldn’t even scream if he so chose to.

The very world around him—years of healing, of running—gone.

All because one woman had returned into his life.

“Cora.”

#rumbelle #rumbelle fic #swanfire #belle french #mr. gold #jefferson #merlin ouat #will scarlet #baelfire #emma swan #ouat #ouat fic #marinara on main #ryik's fics #hope to have a pt 2 out for november!

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