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“Who’s working the labs today? Because whoever it is, they’ll be grumpy.”
Three nurses were standing around the teapot in the staff office of the acute medical ward of Storybrooke hospital, grabbing five minutes and a cup of Jefferson’s festive brew before going back to their work. It was Christmas Day, but the activity in their ward was showing no signs of bowing to the season and getting any quieter. Mary Margaret, who was eyeing the samples to be taken to the pathology labs warily, had been the one to speak, and her colleagues knew that she was angling the conversation in the direction of ‘who’s going to take the samples to the lab?’
Jefferson grabbed the list of people on call and working over Christmas and flicked through it till he found ‘path labs’.
“Gold,” he pronounced. “He’s grumpy all the time so at least he won’t be acting out of character.”
“Ugh, he’s going to be even worse today though.” Mary Margaret grimaced. “I’m making Ashley work next Christmas. I’ve worked on Christmas Day two years straight.”
Belle rolled her eyes and picked up the box of samples.
“I’ll go.”
Jefferson and Mary Margaret looked at her gratefully as she left the office, and Belle shook her head in good-natured despair. She and Gold had always got on comparatively well, better than the rest of her co-workers seemed to get on with the forthright Glaswegian. She accepted his constant curmudgeonliness and liked him in spite of and because of it. If you persevered enough to get beneath the prickly, guarded exterior and got him onto a topic he felt strongly about – usually his fast-growing son, Bae; the antiques that he restored as a hobby or the shoddy performance of his favourite team in the Scottish premier league, he was an animated and interesting conversation partner.
The pathology department was silent as Belle entered. Like the rest of the hospital it had to remain open all hours – medical emergencies and acutely ill patients could not wait a week for their test results whilst the staff celebrated Christmas – but it was working with a skeleton crew.
Gold, alone in his room, was poring over a microscope when Belle arrived and put down the samples, and he didn’t notice her presence immediately.
“Merry Christmas, Dr Gold,” she said. He grunted acknowledgement of the greeting and Belle made to leave the room. He’d been on shift since half-past six in the morning so she couldn’t really blame him for having got out of the wrong side of bed, but before she could get out of the door, his voice stopped her.
“Merry Christmas, Miss French.” He looked up from the microscope and gave the briefest flicker of a smile. “Will I see you for lunch?”
“Of course.”
They had fallen into the habit of taking lunch together when they were working a similar shift. Belle couldn’t really remember how it had begun, but they’d met in the canteen one day and got talking about the abysmal quality of the apple crumble, and they’d been friends and lunch partners ever since.
Just then, the lab phone rang. Gold reached over and pressed a button to answer the call.
“Pathology, Dr Gold speaking.”
“Merry Christmas Dad.”
Gold groaned and raised his eyes to heaven.
“Bae, how many times have I told you not to call the lab on the direct line?”
“I know, I know, but it’s Christmas and you’re there on your own.”
“I’m not. Nurse French is here.”
“Hi Belle!” Bae called.
“Hi Bae,” Belle replied with a laugh. Bae was a good kid; Belle had met him on a couple of occasions when he’d come to the hospital after school to meet his dad, and each time she had found him to be polite and well-mannered despite being in the middle of his teenage years.
“What if someone needs to get hold of me urgently?” Gold continued.
“Then they’ll page you. Or ring the other phone line.” Belle had to admit, she couldn’t fault the boy’s logic.
“All right, all right,” Gold said. “Merry Christmas, Bae. I did wish you Merry Christmas before I came to work this morning.”
“Dad, that was at six o’clock, you can’t expect anything to register at that time.”
Gold sighed.
“How are you, Bae?”
“We’re fine. Aunt Elvira’s just put the sprouts on.”
Gold looked at his watch. “At half-past eleven? She’s late, I thought she’d have got them started the moment I left the house.”
“Well, she got distracted opening presents,” Bae said. “She’s got five different bottles of gin so far.”
“It’s brilliant!” said a voice in the background. “The gin just keeps flowing!”
Belle laughed as Gold buried his head in his hands, but then her pager beeped, summoning her back to the ward.
“See you at one,” she mouthed to Gold, who nodded without looking up, and she reluctantly left him to his conversation with his family whilst she went back to her work.
X
Gold watched Belle out of the corner of his eye and returned his full attention to the phone, shaking the image of her out of his mind and trying to concentrate on the moment at hand.
“So, have you opened any presents yet?” he asked his son. “What have you got?”
“I’ve opened a couple. I’m saving all the ones from you till you get back. I’ve opened Mum’s. She’s sent me the weirdest stuff from Spain, as per usual. I swear she’s forgotten that a) I’m fourteen and b) I don’t speak Spanish.”
Gold gave a snort of laughter. Milah had left them ten years ago, left them so thoroughly that she had left the country, settling in Spain with her new paramour who owned a fishing trawler there. Since that time, Bae had seen precious little of his mother except when she deigned to pay a flying visit to the country. It was almost as if Milah didn’t realise that her son was growing up without her, that he was no longer the same four-year-old she’d walked out on one day, and she seemed to think that gifts were enough to make up for her absence in his life. Bae had always said he didn’t mind, that he got on fine with just his dad, but Gold could tell, on this day more than most, with his mother in a different country and his father tied to the lab for twelve hours on Christmas Day in order to buy the presents waiting for him under the tree, that he wondered what it would be like to have both parents around all the time.
Gold loved his job, but he loved his son as well, and there were some moments in a child’s life that should not be missed. Christmas was one of them. As trying as his Aunt Elvira could be at times, he was glad that she had moved in with them to help take care of Bae after Milah left, and that his son was not totally alone on a day meant for family and togetherness.
“Well, you know your mother.” Gold sighed. “You’ll have to ring and thank her.”
“Do I have to?” Bae’s voice was just this side of whiny. “What if Killian answers?”
“The sooner you do it, the sooner you can get it over with and start on the good presents,”said Elvira’s voice. “And if Killian answers then just ask for your mother, like you always do.”
“Dad?”
“I’m going to agree with your Great-Aunt,” Gold said. “I’ve got to get back to work now. I’ll see you later.”
“And ask that nice nurse over for dinner!” Aunt Elvira squawked in the background.
“Aunt Elvira! She’s probably got her own plans!”
“You’ll never know if you don’t ask, scaredy-cat!”
“I am not…”
“Rum, you may be my only nephew, but that’s not going to stop me calling you a prize idiot when you let this one slip through your fingers.”
“Aunt Elvira…”
“Don’t you Aunt Elvira me, young man, get out there and ask her!”
“Aunt Elvira, I’m cutting you off now. Merry Christmas Bae, I’ll you soon.”
Gold hung up the call and rested his forehead against his desk with a groan. It wasn’t that he didn’t like Belle – he liked her very much. And it wasn’t that he didn’t want to spend Christmas with her – he wanted that more than anything. It was just… He had to admit it, Aunt Elvira was right. He was scared. Belle was beautiful, happy, lively, and at least fifteen years younger than he was. Probably closer to twenty. He, on the other hand, was a divorced, middle-aged single father with a busted ankle and a perpetual bad temper because of it, and Belle deserved so much better.
Still, nothing chanced, nothing gained.
X
When Belle came into the canteen, Gold was already there, spooning yogurt out of the pot and letting it drop back in with a melancholy plop.
“Strawberry yogurt for Christmas lunch?” she said with mock horror. “Whatever is the world coming to?”
Gold said nothing, merely raising an eyebrow at her own tray, which was playing host to a banana and a cheese sandwich.
“I’ll have Christmas dinner at home with Bae and Aunt Elvira this evening,” he said. “Have you got any plans?”
Belle shook her head.
“No. Open my presents and go straight to bed with the stack of books that someone has definitely bought me and the very large box of milk tray that someone has hopefully bought me.”
“Not seeing family, friends?” Gold asked.
“No. I called my dad in Australia before work and I’m going to Ruby’s on my day off tomorrow.”
“Oh…” Gold’s spoon stilled in his yogurt. “I… Would you… You…”
Belle looked at him patiently, hoping that her face didn’t betray her growing sense of anticipation. She hadn’t told him she would be spending Christmas alone to angle for an invite. She had merely told him the truth when he had asked what she was doing. If he chose to make an invitation then that was entirely up to him. After all, Christmas was a time for family, and after spending all day at work, he would want to go home and spend time with Bae without anyone else interfering, and…
“Belle?”
It took Belle a moment to realise that she had been so wrapped up in her own thoughts that she hadn’t heard what Gold had said.
“Sorry.”
Gold smiled, and if Belle didn’t know better she’d say that the expression was ever so slightly shy, like a schoolboy trying to ask a girl out for the first time.
“I said that you would be very welcome to come to dinner with us.”
“That would be lovely, but I don’t want to impose.”
“You wouldn’t be imposing. My aunt would be glad of female company, I dare say. And I… Well, I would just be glad of your company.”
Belle smiled. “In that case, I’d like that very much. What time should I arrive? I come off shift at five.”
Gold grimaced a little. “I’m stuck here till six thirty.” He paused. “I’ll pick you up on my way home? As dashing as you look in your scrubs, I’m sure you don’t want to eat Christmas dinner in them.”
Belle laughed.
“Indeed not. That sounds like a good arrangement. I’ll see you then.”
After Gold had returned to the lab, Belle spent the remainder of her lunch break wondering what to wear. Spending her working days wearing scrubs and then collapsing into bed whenever she wasn’t working meant that she did not have all that much need of pretty party clothes, or indeed any clothes not designed for comfort and practicality. She didn’t often get the chance to dress up and now that an opportunity had presented itself, she wanted to make the most of it. It was absolutely nothing to do with the fact that she wanted to look her best for Gold, to show him another side of her that wasn’t a nurse run off her feet all the time. It was nothing to do with that at all.
Somehow she didn’t think that her logic would fly with Ruby, her friend from the paediatric ward, who would undoubtedly view the evening as a first date and demand it be treated with the proper respect as such. Needless to say, Belle was not intending to make any mention of her plans for the evening to Ruby until after the fact, when there was no sense of anticipation blowing everything out of proportion.
Belle shook herself crossly and finished her sandwich before heading back to the unit. It was just a dinner invite, at a time when people naturally gravitated towards each other to celebrate together. There was no sense in getting so excited about the whole thing.
But still…
Mary Margaret raised an eyebrow as Belle came back onto the ward, and she regarded her colleague critically for several moments as she put her coat on to go and take her own lunch break.
“Belle, is there a reason why you look as if you’ve got your head in the clouds?” she asked.
“I, erm, nope!” Belle said brightly. “Just away with the Christmas fairies, you know. Dreams of Milk Tray and the latest bestsellers waiting for me in shiny paper at home.”
Mary Margaret did not seem at all convinced by this hasty explanation and was evidently still perturbed by Belle’s sudden change in demeanour since the morning, but thankfully she left it lie, and Belle’s attention was soon returned to her immediate surroundings by the very real demands of her job.
X
In the end it was her job that saved her when it came to deciding what to wear. After one of their patients had taken a rather unexpected turn for the worse, Belle did not end up getting home until thirty minutes before she expected Gold to come and pick her up, so all thoughts of taking a bath and having some time to pamper and titivate were thrown completely out of the window. She barely had enough time to jump in the shower and throw on the first soft sweater and vaguely nice-looking skirt that came to hand before she heard the car pull up outside her flat, and she almost tripped over her own feet in her haste to rush down the stairs to answer the doorbell.
“Good evening, Belle.”
“Good evening, Gold.”
There was a long pause whilst they took each other in on the doorstep; Belle was all too aware that for the many times they spoke at the hospital, this really was the first time that they had seen each other properly outside of their workplace.
“You look lovely,” Gold finished eventually, just as Belle made the executive decision to put her coat on and pick up her bags. She smiled.
“Thank you. You’re not looking too bad yourself.”
Gold gave a snort of laughter and took a step back to allow her to come out of the door. “At least I left the lab coat at the hospital.”
It was only a fifteen minute drive to Gold’s house – Belle had not realised he lived so close – and the journey was spent in a slightly awkward but not completely unpleasant silence which continued after they pulled into the driveway. The curtains had not been drawn in the front room and Belle could see the Christmas tree lights twinkling at her through the window, and she had to smile. It had been years since she’d had a proper Christmas tree.
“Ready to meet my mad relations?” Gold asked, getting out of the car. Belle laughed and nodded. “Good,” he continued, “because I’m not.”
“Merry Christmas,” Gold called to the house at large as he let them in.
“Merry Christmas.” Bae came out of the living room, grinning. “Merry Christmas, Belle,” he added as Gold took her coat and hung it on the end of the banister, before wrinkling his nose. “Dad, take a shower. You smell lovely,” he hastened to add to Belle, “but Dad, you cannot sit down to dinner still smelling of disinfectant, rubber gloves and hospitals.”
“But I have a guest to entertain!” Gold protested.
“You can entertain her in the shower!” Aunt Elvira’s voice cackled in the kitchen.
“Aunt Elvira!” Gold pinched the bridge of his nose. “I do apologise for my Aunt, she’s seventy-five and senile…”
“Who are you calling senile, young man?”
A tiny, bird-like woman, elderly but still sprightly, came out of the kitchen and positively skipped along the hall towards Belle, shaking her hand warmly.
“You must be Belle,” she said. “It’s a pleasure to meet you at last. Rum talks about you all the time,” she added in a confidential stage whisper.
“Aunt Elvira, please.” Gold’s voice sounded pained, if muffled behind his hands.
“It’s all right,” Belle said. “Merry Christmas, Miss Gold. I’ve heard a lot about you, too.”
“All bad, I hope. Miss Gold? That’ll never do, call me Aunt Elvira, dear. And Rum, Bae is right. I refuse to serve you dinner whilst you smell of disinfectant. Don’t worry, we’ll take care of Belle.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Gold muttered.
“Do you want a drink?” Bae asked Belle. “Sherry, wine, whisky, gin?”
“Are you giving away my gin, boy?”
Aunt Elvira playfully chucked her great-nephew around the ear with her tea towel. Gold threw up his hands in a gesture of surrender, possibly before the towel got turned on him as well.
“I appear to be outnumbered.” He turned to Belle. “I won’t be long, I promise.”
“And shave, you scruffy mongrel!” Aunt Elvira squawked up the stairs after him. Gold shouted a response in Gaelic, to which his aunt put her hands on her hips and barked. “Raymond Gold! There are ladies present!”
Belle looked to Bae, who shrugged.
“Don’t look at me. They could be speaking Chinese for all I know.” He shook his head in good-natured despair as Aunt Elvira and Gold continued to argue up and down the stairs in Gaelic and he gestured for Belle to follow him through to the living room.
“Make yourself at home,” he said, settling himself on a beanbag next to the Christmas tree. “Sit anywhere you like, but I’d avoid the red leather chair if I were you. It’s Dad’s and I think it’s moulded itself to the shape of his arse, so it’s not very comfortable.”
Belle laughed and sat down on the sofa, fingering the fringed edge of the throw nervously.
“Oh look, I’d forgotten we had that,” Elvira’s voice came through from the cupboard under the stairs. “Belle, I’m cracking open Rum’s secret stash of Prosecco, would you like some?”
“Erm, yes please?” Belle ventured, before turning back to Bae. “Is it always like this?” she asked. He nodded.
“Yep,” he said cheerfully. “Dad doesn’t mind. Aunt Elvira basically brought him up, he’s used to her. I just sit back and enjoy the banter.” He steered the topic away from the unusual familial situation and onto a more neutral topic. “What did you get for Christmas?”
“I haven’t opened anything yet,” Belle clutched her carrier bag tighter against her chest, wondering if bringing her gifts with her had been a bad idea. She had been working on the principle that Gold had not opened any presents that day yet, and she didn’t want him to miss out on receiving gifts simply because he had a guest who had nothing to open, so she had brought her parcels along. Somehow it made it feel like much more of a festive occasion, instead of just a dinner invitation.
“Open one now,” Bae said.
“They’re probably all books,” Belle warned.
“Even better, it’ll give you something to do whilst we’re waiting for Dad.”
At that point, Aunt Elvira arrived with the Prosecco, and there was momentary distraction from the talk of presents.
“Can I have some?” Bae asked eagerly.
“No,” Aunt Elvira said pointedly, handing one champagne flute to Belle.
“Dad said I could have a glass of wine with Christmas dinner if I wanted!” Bae protested.
“Bae, it is not dinner time yet. Besides, he probably said that because he knows you hate wine. Prosecco is just fizzy wine.”
“Exactly!” Bae scrabbled up from the beanbag. “If it’s fizzy it’ll taste better!”
Aunt Elvira rolled her eyes. “All right, one sip to see if you like it. I’m not going to be responsible for getting my great-nephew sloshed before the meal even begins.”
Bae took a sip from Aunt Elvira’s glass and made a face.
“Dad actually pays for that stuff?” he said. “Cripes.”
“I did warn you,” Aunt Elvira pointed out. “Cheers,” she added, toasting her glass to Belle’s. “A very merry Christmas to you.”
“Yes,” Bae added, “and if you keep at that Prosecco it really will be a very merry Christmas.”
“Bae, you sound more and more like your father every day. Sometimes I wonder where I went wrong with you both. It’s Christmas, it’s meant to be merry. Now, I can spy another bottle bag under the tree, Bae. I wonder if it’s for me?”
Bae rolled his eyes and crawled under the tree to reach the gold gift bag. “Yes, it’s for you,” he called from under the lowest branches. “But you can’t have it yet, we need to let Belle open something first.”
“I’m telling you, they’re all books,” Belle warned again.
“Oh, I don’t think they are,” Bae said. Belle raised one eyebrow and peered down at Bae under the tree.
“What do you mean?”
“Hang on a minute, I’m coming back. Aunt Elvira, why is our Christmas tree so low to the ground? You can’t fit anything under it.”
“Well since that unfortunate incident with the carving fork last year the tree’s had its bottom four inches amputated. Terrible thing, cut down in the prime of its plastic like that. I do hope the bit I cut off wasn’t important.”
Bae emerged from under the tree covered in bits of tinsel and shook his head in despair. “I can’t believe you’re seventy-five,” he muttered. “You should be sitting in a rocking chair with your cocoa knitting cardigans, not knocking back gin and Prosecco and making innuendoes about Christmas trees.”
“Bae dear, being conventional is highly overrated.”
“Aunt Elvira, we’ve got a guest, can’t you at least pretend to be normal?”
“The damage is already done, dear, I may as well live up to my reputation. Fully.”
Belle, who had been watching the banter back and forth between great-nephew and great-aunt with amusement, was rather surprised when Bae dropped a parcel into her carrier bag. He just winked at her and returned to his position in the beanbag next to the tree.
“Aunt Elvira…” Gold’s voice tailed off as he entered the living room, and had Belle been speaking, hers would have done the same. It was not that she was particularly surprised to see her colleague in jeans and a sweater, but it was in that moment that she realised she had never seen him without a tie and rarely without his white lab coat, and she wanted to furnish the momentous occasion with the proper appraisal. “Is that the Prosecco?” he asked, looking at the champagne flutes that Belle and Aunt Elvira were holding.
“Indeed it is.” Elvira raised her glass to him in a toast.
“Aunt Elvira!” he exclaimed. “I got that in for Hogmanay!”
“Rum, for the past seven years you’ve got Prosecco in for Hogmanay only to completely forget about it and spend the night getting totally rat-arsed on a somewhat lethal mix of Merlot and whisky. This year I’m liberating it.”
Gold groaned and ran a hand through his still-damp hair. “Aunt Elvira…”
“Here, drink this, it’ll help you get over the shock. I need to check on the turkey.” Elvira handed her nephew her glass and skipped nimbly out of the room. Gold drained half the glass in one go and Belle had to laugh.
“Before you ask again,” Bae’s voice came from the beanbag next to the Christmas tree, “yes, it is always like this.”
X
If there was one thing that could be said for Gold’s Aunt Elvira, it was that she was an absolutely fantastic cook. Belle’s mouth was watering before they’d even got started on the food, and before the turkey had even entered the dining room, just at the sight of the piled golden roast potatoes and parsnips.
“I love the silence at mealtimes,” Aunt Elvira said presently, once the plates had been filled and the turkey was not looking quite so appetising, just a carved up carcass in pride of place in the centre of the table. “It’s always the sign of a good meal if people are too interested in the food to talk. But still. I have a question for you two.” The older woman pointed her fork at Gold and Belle in turn, and Gold gave Belle a slightly worried look before returning his attention to his plate with a muttered ‘oh heck, not again’.
“Who carves the turkey in the hospital?” Aunt Elvira asked. There was a long pause whilst Belle and Gold just looked at each other, Gold obviously having been anticipating an entirely different question and rather confused by the one his aunt had asked. Eventually they responded in perfect unison.
“Dr Whale.”
“He does the honours wearing a Santa hat,” Gold continued. “It wouldn’t be so amusing if he wasn’t the chief surgeon. It is quite alarming to see him sharpening the carving knife sometimes.”
“Well, I daresay he’d do a better job of it than we did.” Aunt Elvira nodded towards the turkey, which both she and Gold had taken a go at carving. Each had been convinced that the other was going it wrong until Bae said that if they didn’t slice the thing soon, he’d simply tear off the drumsticks for himself and Belle and leave them to argue over the crown whilst the rest of the food got cold.
It tasted as good as it looked, and far better than the fare at the hospital would have been, Dr Whale’s expert carving skills or no.
“I’m going to light the pudding!” Bae announced once the plates had been cleared, leaving the room at a run to return with a bottle of brandy and a box of matches.
“You are not lighting anything,” Gold said firmly. “Especially not with my best cognac. I’ve already spent all day in hospital, I don’t want to have to go back there because someone’s ablaze.”
“But it’s tradition!” Bae protested.
“Bae, in all your fourteen previous Christmases, when have we ever set the Christmas pudding on fire?” Gold’s voice was just this side of exasperated.
“It’s a new tradition that I’m initiating today?” Bae said hopefully.
Aunt Elvira chuckled. “I think your son is trying to impress our guest,” she said. “Bae, leave it, impressing Belle is up to your father and if he decides that burning desserts are not the way to go, then you will bow to his superior knowledge.”
Gold went decidedly pink at that remark.
X
It had passed midnight and the evening was drawing to a close. A recording of It’s a Wonderful Life was playing on the TV, Aunt Elvira was snoring softly in an easy chair and Bae was nodding off on the sofa beside Belle. Gold was watching the film through narrowed, sleepy eyes, nursing a double whisky protectively against his chest.
It had been a fantastic evening, and Belle wanted nothing more than to stay exactly where she was, warm and snug and cared for by this eclectic little family. She thought back to earlier, when she and Gold had been opening their presents, and she had at last come to the one that Bae had placed in her bag when she arrived. It was from Gold, and it was a box of Milk Tray. Gold had gone a particularly fetching shade of pink.
“I forgot to bring it to the hospital this morning,” he’d murmured. “I know you always hope someone’s bought you a box of Milk Tray so I wanted to be sure you got one.”
Belle had gone over and hugged him in gratitude, and he’d stiffened slightly, startled, but then relaxed into the embrace.
“But I didn’t get you anything,” she’d said.
Gold had smiled. “It doesn’t matter.”
And she knew that it didn’t matter. But expectations aside, she wanted to reciprocate his kindness, both for giving her the gift and for inviting her to his house so that she would not be lonely at Christmas. She had never before felt truly lonely when spending the festive season alone, but now, when the time had come for her to leave and return to her empty flat, she really didn’t want to.
“I should call a cab,” she said, getting up from the sofa with a great deal of reluctance. Gold’s eyes flickered away from the screen and he took a few moments before coming back to himself and following her from the room.
He closed the door behind him and for a few moments there was silence. They just stood, facing each other, each waiting for the other to speak.
Belle looked up to check that there was no mistletoe hanging above them and gave a wan smile. She wouldn’t have been at all put out to find that there was. The corner of Gold’s mouth twitched, as if he couldn’t decide whether to smile or not. Belle saw her chance and took it, going up on her toes to press her lips against his cheek.
Time seemed to stand still in that moment. When she pulled away, Belle searched Gold’s face for some kind of reaction to her gesture, but he was as unreadable as ever. She wondered if he had crossed a line somewhere, but she didn’t know how, and she didn’t know what she should do to make it right, if she even could.
“Thank you, for a wonderful evening,” she said eventually. The quiet was too quiet, the only sounds being the muffled television from the living room and the ticking of the clock in the hall, and they seemed far too loud in the silence. Every second without words passing between them lasted a lifetime.
Finally Gold spoke.
“You’re welcome,” he said. His voice sounded slightly strangled. “Any time.”
Belle smiled and went to move towards the front door, but a light touch on her arm stopped her, and she turned back.
“I mean it, Belle. Any time you want company, or a friend, or…”
Or more than a friend, Belle’s mind supplied in the absence of Gold’s words.
“… Any time,” he finished. “You’re most welcome here. In my house, in my lab, in my life in general. I love you being around. I know I’m a grumpy old beast at the best of times but you’ve always been able to see past that and you still talk to me in spite of it.”
Belle blinked, and she finally saw his aloofness, his silence, for what it really was. He simply couldn’t believe that she was there, enjoying his company and enjoying being with him and his family, and he didn’t want to say anything that he might regret or that might shatter the moment. He was grateful for what he’d had and he didn’t dare to push his luck. These final desperate words were something of a plea.
Please stay in my life.
“Please stay,” Gold said softly. “You’ll never get a cab at this time of night and I’ve had too much to drink to drive you. We have a spare room.”
Belle smiled. “I’d rather bunk with you.”
Gold looked slightly startled by her frank statement. “You would?”
Belle nodded and brought her arms up to hook around his neck and pull him into a proper kiss, firm and warm and squarely on the lips. Gold gave an endearing squeak of surprise and relaxed into the kiss, opening his mouth to allow Belle to take his bottom lip between hers, sucking gently. She felt Gold’s hands splay over her back, pulling her in closer. It was better than any kiss under the mistletoe might have been.
Neither of them spoke after she pulled away – they didn’t need to, the kiss had spoken more than enough for them. Belle wondered just how long the mutual attraction had been simmering between them and how long they had been keeping a distance, neither willing to make the first move lest their efforts come to nought and their feelings be revealed to be unrequited.
“Oh Belle,” Gold breathed, and he slanted his mouth over hers again. Belle closed her eyes and let herself melt into the embrace. The gratitude that she felt at learning that Gold felt the same way about her that she did about him paled into significance next to the rather more immediate and rather less coherent thoughts of kiss yes don’t ever let go Merry Christmas Dr Gold I think I’m a little bit in love with you.
They both startled and jumped out of each other’s arms when a piercing wolf whistle cut though the hallway. Belle took a couple of steps backwards, feeling her face begin to flame.
“You!” Gold exclaimed, turning to the living room doorway to see Aunt Elvira and Bae peering around it, the latter with head in hands and the former with a truly wicked grin on her face. It was clear which of the two had been whistling. “Aunt Elvira! Bae! I thought you were asleep in front of It’s a Wonderful Life.”
“We were,” Bae grumbled, still hiding behind his hands despite knowing full well his father was no longer locked in a clinch. “Then Aunt Elvira decided that the grand romantic drama playing out in the hallway would be far more interesting to watch and dragged me out here.”
“Well, I wasn’t wrong,” Elvira said plainly. “A very merry Christmas to both of you. And may I say, Raymond, it’s about bloody time!”
“You… just… you…” Gold was completely speechless, whether with embarrassment or rage or a mixture of the two, Belle didn’t know. “Oh, go back to Clarence and his wings!”
“With pleasure.” Bae gave a salute and disappeared back into the living room.
“And you, you meddling harpy,” Gold muttered to his aunt, who closed the door behind her with no further words but a smile that spoke volumes.
Once his family was out of earshot, Gold leaned back against the staircase, bright red face buried in his hands, and he gave an emphatic groan, the noise somewhat akin to a child’s balloon with a slow puncture.
“I am so, so sorry,” he said, the words muffled in his palms. “She’s my aunt; they’re my only relatives…”
Belle gently took Gold’s wrists in hers and tugged at the cuffs of his sweater until he finally moved his hands and his chocolate eyes – dark and pink-rimmed with embarrassment – looked up to meet hers. Belle slipped her arms back around him, resting her chin on his shoulder.
“Christmas is a time for family,” she murmured in his ear. “Inviting me here tonight… You’re inviting me to be part of your family, whether it’s just for this evening or for more time to come. That’s what’s made today so special – and an interfering maiden aunt is all part of that. So don’t be sorry, because I’m grateful. Thank you.”
“It’s for as much time as you want, Belle,” Gold said. His hands returned to her waist and gradually slid round to dance up her back as he straightened from his slumped position and twisted slightly to press his lips to Belle’s again.
They didn’t break away for a long time, and when they did, Belle nuzzled into Gold’s neck, breathing in his smell of aftershave and shampoo, and the faintest undercurrent of disinfectant.
“You know,” Gold began, one hand coming up to stroke her hair. “Considering I worked a twelve hour shift and Aunt Elvira was being her usual self, I think this might well be the best Christmas I’ve had for a very long time.”
Belle smiled. She was thinking exactly the same thing.
Gold was certainly one of the best presents she had ever received.