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As in every small town, news traveled faster than light in Storybrooke. A few hours after the mayor had decided to open a French class at the local school, the townsfolk were already at Granny’s placing all sorts of bets about the new teacher. Would it be a man or a woman? How long would they stay, if they stayed at all? Would they be a French native? Would they wear a beret and walk around with a baguette under their arm?
Mr Gold stayed far away from those trivial considerations. Aside from his usual disdain for practically everyone, he hated how the blasted town got so excited over such a small event – even if he had to admit nothing much happened in this dump. The only thing which mattered to him was that this new resident would chose to live in a building he owned. It was about time he’d get some fun too: new tenants were the best to terrorize.
Some weeks later, the mayor publicly announced that the new teacher was a woman – ironically – named Belle French. Gold was a bit disappointed: women tended to cry more than fight about their rent, and he didn’t particularly enjoy talking to fountains. But she would do. Perhaps she would even insult him in French, he thought with a sly smile.
Sadly, he didn’t get the chance to welcome Miss French on her first day in Storybrooke. Her grand arrival happened to be on one of the rare days he was out of town to attend an important auction. But this delay was nothing. He had a whole month of daily intimidation to look forward to.
When Gold came back in town, he noticed people glared at him more than usual. Besides, no one talked about the teacher in his presence. Were they guarding her from him? He just had to give Granny one of his cutting remarks to get a confirmation of this foolish theory. She said Belle was a lovely young woman and they wouldn’t have him scaring her away. Gold scoffed and left the dreadful diner.
It wasn’t until a few days later that he finally got to meet the mysterious teacher. When he did, all his evil plans flew out the window. She came into his shop a sunny afternoon while he was checking his ledger. A halo of soft light outlined her small body. Her chestnut hair was tied up in a stylish bun. A bright red mouth smiled at him. And her eyes, blue like the most precious sapphires, danced with pure joy and cheekiness. Gold was so captivated by her perfect face, that he barely noticed her short skirt and high heels. He opened his mouth, intending to give her a taste of his mean remarks to make up for his abhorrent fascination, but nothing came. The woman’s widening smile warned him that he looked like a fool. Gold mentally slapped himself.
“What can I do for you, dearie?”
“You must be mister Gold.”
Her voice was as sweet as an angel’s. It suddenly occurred to him that she was a gift from heaven wasted on the children and teenagers she taught. Such nonsense gave him some of sense back.
“Well, it is my shop.”
Far from being offended, she went on smiling, as if laughing at a joke only her could understand.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Belle French, the new French teacher,” she introduced herself.
“The pleasure’s all mine.”
As they shook hands, Gold realized she was just the small enough for him. He bit his tongue to keep unwanted thoughts out of his mind.
“I didn’t expect to meet a gentleman. Everyone warned me against you.”
“Apart from the ones in which they say I eat children, most of their stories are true.”
Belle tried to repress a grin, and squinted at him in a parody of a judging stare. After she looked her fill, she became more businesslike. She got a newspaper out of her handbag and opened it on the counter in front of him.
“Well, true or not, I still need to talk to you. See, all the good places belong to you,” she showed him the real estate page she had scribbled on. “And I can’t really stay at Granny’s inn for the rest of my life. So, I wanted to know if I could visit some of those.”
Gold frowned. The whole town had testified against him, no doubt saying more than necessary to make her believe he was the devil in person. Yet here she was, looking very serious about the idea of him giving her a tour of his properties. Was she stupid or courageous?
“Are you aware that, if you rent one of my houses, you would owe me money?”
Belle stared at him as if she didn’t quite understand his question. Perhaps she was stupid.
“Of course I... Oh, I see!” she exclaimed as she took his meaning. “Well, the club of bitter tenants seems quite popular, but I’m not very keen on joining it. I’ve always paid what I owed and I don’t intent to change. Also, I actually read contracts before signing them.”
Gold stupidly grinned despite himself. Her don’t-fuck-with-me speech was just the right amount of don’t-underestimate-me and watch-your-ass, so that her kind smile was still believable. He was coming dangerously close to liking her.
“I’m glad to hear you’re a responsible adult, dearie... Unlike most people in this town,” he added under his breath. “Alas, I don’t make visits myself. Did you contact my assistant Mr Dove, as is clearly stated in your newspaper?”
The result of this little provocation was not the one Gold thought he would get. After her lively remark, he expected her to get at least a bit angry with him. But she bit her lips and looked at the ground. What did that mean?
“I didn’t call him because... It’s stupid, really,” she chuckled nervously and took a deep breath. “It’s the first time that I’ve finally made it to your shop without having someone blocking my way.”
“I’m sorry?”
People blocked the access to his shop, now? What has the world come to?
“I think they’re afraid I’d leave Storybrooke if I meet you,” she explained. “They all seem to believe you’re some kind of demon from which they must protect me. It’s completely absurd, but they mean well and I don’t want to upset them. Anyway, I escaped their watch and they really got me curious about you.”
So she came for him? Gold didn’t know if he should be flattered by her interest or outraged that she visited his shop like a zoo. Noticing his perplexity, Belle changed the subject.
“But I wanted to ask about the houses anyway, so I figured asking you directly would be faster than calling your assistant. I really need my own space.”
It amused Gold to know that the strategy of the town’s morons was turning against them. Belle couldn’t stand them already and she came to him for help. For once, Gold was the good guy. He wasn’t used to it, and he had half a mind to turn her down, just to show her he wasn’t a man to deal with lightly. But who was he to refuse helping someone who disliked the citizens of Storybrooke? She might even grow to hate them like he did. Then he wouldn’t be so lonely.
“Alright,” he gave in with a sigh. “Let’s see what you chose.”
“Thank you, Mr Gold.”
“Don’t get your hopes up, dearie.”
A quick scan at the piece of paper told him the one thing he needed to know: her budget was rather low. She circled the cheapest houses, with only one exception. Since she was a scholar, it was easy to guess why she was interested in the apartment above the closed library. But where she intended to get the money to rent it was a tougher question.
“I see the library caught your eye.”
“Yes, I love books. It was difficult to choose which ones to bring here with me. I fear I took more books than clothes,” she confessed with a chuckle. Her beautiful smile faded when she made him a second confession: “But, as lovely as it is, it’s out of my budget. So we’ll have to forget about it.”
For the very first time, Gold considered being nice to a tenant. Though he didn’t want to look too closely at his feelings, he felt a kind of connection with this woman. Maybe it was because they were both outsiders to the community of Storybrooke. Or the fact that they preferred the quite company of books to the unending chatter of idiotic gossips. The proximity of the library to his shop got him thinking. They might see each other everyday instead of just once a month on rent day. That thought alone convinced him.
“I might have a solution.”
Belle watched him with big eyes full of hope.
“Really?”
“Yes. We could make a deal.”
Far from being suspicious as any of the locals would be, Belle was ready to jump on the occasion.
“What deal?” she asked eagerly.
“I could lower the rent if, in exchange, you would... Give me French lessons.”
The teacher was as surprised as Gold himself. He didn’t quite know where that came from, but he thanked his subconscious for thinking about it. Then he’d be sure to see her more than once a month. However, his enthusiasm was hampered by Belle’s confusion.
“I don’t usually give private lessons. I mean, I never really did. Not that it should be very different from teaching a group. But my audience has always been kids, so...”
Their eyes met for a moment. Whatever she saw in Gold’s, it made her smile again.
“I guess, if you’re free on Saturdays, I could arrange a lesson in the morning. From nine to noon?”
“That would be perfect.”
They grinned at each other like two children discovering the magic of love. Had someone walked in at this precise moment, Gold would have thrown a vintage knife in their face without an once of regret. It was rather strange that he felt so at ease with Miss French, a near stranger. Before his train of thought went any further, he cleared his throat to stop it.
“Now, let’s go see your future home.”
Belle was enchanted by the apartment. From the way she talked about it, it was a palace fit for a king. Or the queen of book lovers, whom she undoubtedly was. The next day, after some negotiations on Belle’s part, they signed the contract.
Saturday was coming too fast to Gold’s liking. He felt like a child again, tossing and turning in his bed on the eve of a new school year. At least then, there was no one to disappoint but himself. What if he was such a bad student that Belle decided to stop teaching him? And he’ll look like a moron with his notebook and little pencil case. If people knew about this... Well, he’d just have to kill every last one of them.
Gold’s hands shook a bit when he opened the door of his shop this morning. Belle would soon join him for their first lesson. He needed tea. Just when he put the kettle on in his back room, where the torture would take place, a familiar voice called his name in the shop.
“Mr Gold?”
“I’m here!”
At least his voice sounded normal. He took a deep breath and thought that if teenagers could it, there was no reason he’d fail. Belle walked in the back room and looked around with stars in her eyes.
“Hi! I can’t believe there are even more things in here. This is just like Ali Baba’s cave.”
“Thank you, dearie. Most people would agree with you just because it would mean I’m a thief.”
Belle laughed at his poor joke. It immediately made him more at ease.
“Tea?”
“Thanks. And I’ve got croissants, to put us in the mood.”
She showed him her paper bag from Granny’s and put it on his work table turned desk. He had already laid out his school supplies on it. Instead of buying new ones, he had rummaged his attic to find those he had used when he was a kid. There was a metal pencil case full to the brim, an empty notebook, and a wooden ruler. A shiver traveled down his spine while Belle inspected them. If she hadn’t noticed how old he was, she sure did now. She just kept on smiling and turned around to check the pieces of chalk and the blackboard. Gold had bought it at a auction organize by the local school to raise funds. He sometimes used it to remind himself of things he had to do.
“I see we’ve got everything for a perfect classroom.”
She took a steaming cup of tea from his hands and started drinking. The burning temperature of the liquid startled her. She dropped the cup and gasped.
“I’m so sorry! I’ll clean this mess.”
Before Gold could stop her, Belle was already on the ground, inspecting the piece of porcelain.
“Oh, it’s chipped. I’m very sorry.”
“Don’t worry, dearie. It’s just a cup.”
“But the tea...?”
“Well, the carpet must have been thirsty, because it already absorbed most of it.”
Belle stood up with a shy smile and put the damaged cup in a safe spot near the sink.
“So, shall we start?”
Gold went to take his seat behind his desk and forced a smile on his lips. He had passionately hated school when he was a boy. The memories this situation brought back were not fond ones.
“Alright,” Belle chirped. “Since you told you had no notion of French, this first lesson is going to be an introduction to the language. There will be a lot of new things to learn at once, so don't worry if you feel a little bit lost, it's perfectly normal.”
She stopped to take a breath, then turned around to write on the board.
“We'll start with presentations, so that at the end of the lesson, you'll be able to introduce yourself. Our first word of vocabulary,” she said while pointing at what she wrote, “is 'se présenter', which means 'to introduce oneself'.”
Belle stopped again. This time, she looked expectantly at him. Gold panicked for a moment, but she quickly saved him.
“I suggest you write down vocabulary in a different color than the rest of the lesson, so that it'll be easier to find. Or you can write it on the last page. But it's as you want.”
This plan was completely backfiring. Gold had hoped that they could share a few moments to get to know each other better, but he was only making a fool of himself. He ignored his bruised ego and jot down the damn words while Belle took a bite of croissant and wrote some more on the board.
“Now, let's imagine you meet someone new. What will you tell him? In English, for a start.”
Gold was tempted to say something like 'get out of my way', but he didn't think it was what Belle expected. Now, what would he say if he was a polite person?
“Hum... Hello.”
“Bonjour.”
Belle pointed at the word on the board. He immediately wrote it down before he forgot.
“I'm Mr Gold.”
“No first name?”
When he made deals, he always thought about all possible consequences. Yet this time, he forgot he'd have to answer this simple question. What was it about Belle that interfered with his brain?
“No one in town knows it and I'd rather keep it that way.”
To his dismay, Belle's smile vanished. He was about to explain himself when she insisted.
“But I'm very good with secrets. I promise I won't tell a soul," she swore, putting a hand on her heart.
Gold sighed. He trusted her so far, he might as well go all the way.
“Gus. My first name is Gus.”
“Like the fat mouse in Cinderella?” she asked innocently.
That was it. His whole pride and reputation died with this one question. Gold put his hand on his face. He had never wanted to disappear more than in this very moment.
“I'm... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. You're actually very handsome and Gus is a pretty likable character.”
What? Gold frowned and stared at her. What did she say? Belle seemed to realize just now what got out of her mouth. She quickly changed the subject to hide her confusion.
“Anyway, to say your name in French, it would be 'Je m'appelle Gus'. If we translate it literally, it would be something like 'I call myself Gus', because the verb 'appeler' means 'to call'. Then you could add something like 'enchanté' or 'ravi de vous rencontrer'.”
The rest of the lesson passed in the blink of an eye, possibly because Gold couldn't help but think about her slipped confession. To his relief, he still managed to keep up with Belle. She was very patient and never made fun of him or his mistakes. He particularly enjoyed when she mimed new words to make him guess their meaning. By the end of the course, he could say a full introduction which he played out with Belle.
“Bonjour.”
“Bonjour,” she replied.
“Je m'appelle Gold,” he stated, purposefully forgetting his first name. “Et vous?”
“Je m'appelle Belle. Ravi de faire votre connaissance.”
“Moi de même. Comment allez-vous?”
“Je vais très bien, merci. Quel est votre métier?”
“Je suis...”
God, why did his job had to be so complicated in French? He could never remember it.
“Pr...,” Belle helped him.
“Prêteur sur gages!”
Belle grinned and clapped. Gold bowed slightly. He was really starting to get caught up in the game.
“Et, vous habitez à Storybrooke?”
“Oui, j'habite à Storybrooke.”
“Ce fut un plaisir de vous rencontrer. Au revoir.”
“À bientôt.”
With their little play over, Belle clapped again and looked delighted. As for Gold, he was rather proud of himself. He couldn't say much, but thanks to some key words he recognized, he could answer Belle's questions with sentences she taught him.
“You are the best student I've ever had.”
“And you are by far the best teacher I've ever had.”
“Thank you,” she said with a blush. “I guess class is over now.”
She checked her watch and gasped.
“It actually should have ended thirty minutes ago. You could have stopped me, you know.”
Out of all the things he wanted to tell her, he went for the less bold one.
“I could invite you for lunch to make it up to you.”
Belle was startled. He feared he had been too forward and ruined the mood. Then she shyly smiled at him.
“Avec plaisir.”
Gold didn't exactly understand what she meant, but 'pleasure' was one of the two words she said, so it couldn't be bad. Besides, she was beaming at him. He felt privileged to be in the company of someone as cheerful, nice and knowledgeable as Belle. Out of all the deals he had ever made, he never would have guessed that the one which got him French lessons would be the best.