Work Text:
“No”
“But, Rumple—”
“I said no, Belle.”
Belle huffed and placed her hands on her hips, and Gold’s grip on his cane tightened. They were at a standoff. “And why not?”
Rumple sneered. “I will not be humiliated.”
Belle raised her hands in the air. “You won’t be the only one! We’re all doing it. I don’t see what the problem is.”
“The problem,” Rumple said slowly, “is that I have a reputation to uphold.”
Belle rolled her eyes. “Well, what I think is that you’re just scared of being laughed at.”
Rumple’s face turned red. “Now see here—”
“Grandpa!” a high-pitched voice cut him off and barreled right into his side, small arms wrapping around his waist.
“Henry! What are you doing here, lad?”
“Mmph sid yu wer comph te parphe!”
Rumple chuckled and patted the boy on the head. “Maybe say it to my face instead of to my jacket?”
Henry pulled back and looked up at him with a wide smile. “Mom said you were coming to the party!”
Rumple sighed, and Belle smirked, knowing she just won. “You want me at your party, Henry?”
The little boy nodded ferociously. “Yes. Yes. Yes! You’re like the main character. You have to be there.”
Rumple closed his eyes, accepting his fate. Henry frowned. “D-Do you not want to come?”
Rumple shook his head and knelt before his grandson, placing his hand on the boy’s shoulders so he could look him in the eyes. “I have never attended a party before—well, not invited. This is just going to take some getting used to.”
Henry nodded. “Oh, that makes sense. Both my moms said something similar, but I know they’re going to love it. You will, too, Grandpa. Do you promise you’ll come? No loopholes this time.”
His eyes softened. “How about I make you a deal. I’ll come to the party as—expected. In return, you spend next Saturday with me instead of Regina.”
“Deal!” Henry grabbed his hand and shook it so fast that he didn’t have time to react before the boy bolted out of the pawn shop, screaming, “Emma! He said yes! Operation Max is a go!”
Rumple stared down at his hand, but the feeling of eyes on him made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He stood and turned to face a smug Belle.
“That may be the fastest deal I’ve ever made.”
Belle’s blue eyes sparkled with mischief or tears. He couldn’t tell which. “Well, he is your grandson.”
He huffed. Belle wrapping her arms around him may have made him feel better, but it didn’t stop the dread from forming like a rock in his stomach. “I’ve been trying to get you to go to the party for days, and one look from your Grandson is all it took?”
His shoulders slumped. “Must be his super power.”
Belle suppressed a chuckle, “Must be.”
Later that night on Christmas Eve, Rumplestiltskin entered the Charmings’ house, holding the leash of Pongo, whom Archie had agreed could be used tonight since he was also going to be there. The Dalmatian wore reindeer antlers on his head, and his tail was wagging at the sight of all the people and the smell of food. Belle hung off his arm on the other side. Her hair was braided into large loops that bounced against her ears, and a cone of her hair was gelled into a spike on top of her head, wrapped in a bow. But it was neither Belle nor the dog that made everyone stop talking at once and startle David so badly that he almost dropped his wine glass.
It was Mr. Gold, Rumplestiltskin, known to everyone in the room as the Dark One, who stood there proudly, his back straight, his grip tight on his cane, wearing a full-body Grinch costume.
Henry leaned over Regina, whose jaw was open so wide it might have touched the floor, and whispered to an equally shocked Emma, “Operation Max is a success.”