Chapter Text
Gold hated using the bus. It smelt funny and although it only went around their small town it always got crowded at half seven in the morning, people too tired to make the short walk to their work. But with how much pain his leg had been giving him recently, he had no other choice.
He had a car, but parking it on main street was a bad idea. He had lost count of the amount of times he had had to take it to the local garage after a deal had gone wrong and after they had stormed out of his shop he had found his tyres slashed and unsightly key marks scratched over the cars shiny surface. It was a horrid affair in general, so he decided not to make it as easy for them and take the bus.
They were the reasons he kept telling himself, anyway. It certainly wasn’t the charming little librarian who jumped on a stop after his and sat beside him. They never spoke, but he always loved her warmth beside him, and her floral scent that seemed to cling onto him through until his lunch break. She also wasn’t the reason he had stopped favouring home lunches and started regularly to Grannies Diner.
Miss French was a vision the angels would be jealous over. She had long chestnut curls which bounced about her shoulders and a sweet smile for everyone she passed, even him. She was kind and loving and everything he knew he did not deserve. But that did not stop him from fantasizing. She was his dream girl, and if they only ever exchanged small smiles and shoulders brushing against each other, he could live with it, so long as he could see her, happy.
He knew she was seeing someone. He had overheard her telling the Lucas girl at the diner so. He worked at the garage he frequented, Gaston – as if they were out of some fairy-tale, Gaston and the beauty. The thought made his blood boil, but that didn’t stop him from going, from tipping the stocky man generously, knowing he would spend the money on Miss French, and in a bizarre sort of way, Gold would be paying for her happiness. It really was pathetic.
So when on that day she did not get on the bus at her stop, he began to worry. She had never missed a day in the six months he had been taking the bus. He looked around, trying to see if she was simply late but he didn’t spy her. So when she was at the next stop, he released the breath he hadn’t realised he had been holding and shuffled closer to the window so she could slide beside him as always. He was on the first row of seats, and gave her a steady smile.
She swiped her transport card along the reader and shuffled like the undead down the aisle, but didn’t sit beside him, but stood in the wheelchair bay, back to the glass and turned her head down. She was right before him, within arm’s reach but didn’t move. When he noticed a lone tear sliding down her cheek, he leant forward, bringing his voice to a whisper so the other passengers could not hear him. “Miss French? Are you alright?”
She nearly jumped at his voice, but pulled herself together quickly, wiping her tear away with the back of her hand and straightening her back, squaring her shoulders like she expected to have a fist thrown at her. “I am quite alright, Mr…” Her lip trembled and almost as if her walls came crashing down just slumped, sliding into the seat next to him. “No. I am not.”
He patted the seat beside him and watched her slowly sink down into it, her shoulders slumped, but she leaned gently against him. She smelt like fresh roses after a shower of rain.
“Want to talk to me?”
“To you?” she gave a small smile. “I would like that, Mr Gold.” She shuffled a little but got comfy quickly. “Gaston, my boyfriend, and I broke up. We wanted different things in life, in the end. He wanted to play around, and I wanted someone else. It only seemed fair… but… he got angry. Threw all my stuff out so I crashed at Ruby’s. Looks like I am going to be crashing on her sofa for a little while until I am back on my feet.”
He considered it for a moment, ignoring the rate of which his heart had begun pounding, aching to break free of his chest. She was single… and in love with someone else. “You know I own most of the properties in Storybrooke…” she tilted her head to one side slightly, in a way he had only seen young puppies do. “I am sure I could find you a place within your price range…”
Her eyes lit up a little and a small smile graced her face. “I would be eternally grateful.” She ducked her head, and whispered, “there is one last thing though… Ruby leaves for work at five. And I couldn’t reach…”
“Reach?”
“The back of my dress…” She shrugged her cardigan down to her elbows and he saw the dress gaping open at the back, revealing her creamy, porcelain skin…
He reached over, being ever so gently not to touch her, and did up her dress.
The bus pulled up at his stop. He stood to get off, and she let him past. “Thank you, Mr Gold.”
“Rumford,” he smiled at her, bowing slightly and loving the smile which stretched across her face at the gesture. “My name is Rumford.”
He got off the bus, and caught her waving at him as it drove on. Things were looking up for the towns dragon. Now all he had to do was win over the princess…