Archive of Our Own

The Village

Belle hated the day of the Full Moon. 

Most people probably would’ve said it looks pretty, a round lantern of gentle silver light washing over the Village and the surrounding Enchanted Forest. But in these parts of the woods, the full moon meant the Beast would soon be upon them. 

And that, in turn, meant it was time for the Head to choose. 

Today was the fifth time the Village chose a Shield - a single person to be sent out into the woods and defend their fellows from the horrible Beast that roamed on moonlit nights; after the Beast claimed its first victim, leaving even Gaston shaken, it became clear that drastic measures had to be taken to keep it from attacking the Village proper. 

And here Belle was, standing among the gathered crowd, wearing her spring blue-and-white dress despite the midday sun not doing much to alleviate the chill that fell upon her that morning. 

Beside her, dressed in his best jacket, stood Maurice - who insisted on maintaining a dignified appearance even if none of the Villagers treated him with respect. “It's not about them,” he'd told her, once, “and it's not about vanity. We go out there with our heads held high, and we don't pay mind to anyone trying to push us down.”

The last of the Villagers finally arrived - a trio of girls in red, green, and yellow dresses in matching style. And they weren't alone, of course. They surrounded him, chattering nonstop as he kept a steady pace, only halting when he held up a hand and climbed on stage beside the Head, leaving the trio to whisper excitedly. The Village hunter, the one who came up with the Shields, Gaston. 

“The terror is almost upon us,” the Head began. “But we have endured before, and we will once more, until we can find a way to kill it for good. But tonight, let us send one who'll protect us, so that we may see another dawn.” He turned towards the hunter, gesturing. “Gaston, tell us who is the elected Shield?” 

Gaston stepped forward, solemn, his gaze sweeping over the crowd - briefly locking with Belle’s - before he said gravely, “Maurice.” 

“No!” Belle pushed herself in front of her father, as if that could stop the people all around them. “You can't take him, you can't!” 

“We must all do our part in this time of crisis,” the Head calmly explained. 

“Do our part?” Belle repeated, “he'll die!” 

“He'll die either way!” The baker snapped at her. 

“At least we don't all die!” Cried a farmhand. 

“Then let me take his place.” 

The crowd fell silent. Belle felt like hundreds of eyes bore into her. The Head's jaw hung slightly open, while Gaston's was clenched in frustration. 

Maurice was the first - the only one - to move. “Belle,” he placed a hand on her shoulder, “you can't.” 

“I have to,” she whispered, doing her best to hold back tears.

“Belle, please.”

“If that's the only way to save you, I'm not afraid.” 

She moved to climb onstage, but he caught her by the arm. “But I am.” 

Belle looked at him - properly looked at him, at the trembling lip and the thin frame and the tears welling up in his eyes - and gave him the brightest smile she could manage. “Whenever you see a rose bloom,” she choked, “know that it's me, still smiling at the world, and still loving you.” 

And with that, she slipped out of his grasp, and onward to her doom.

They offered her a change of clothes, a bright yellow dress. To keep her dignity, they said. Belle knew better than to refuse. 

She was walked out of the village at twilight, flanked on one side by the Head and on the other by Gaston. The Head stayed behind once they reached the edge of the forest, of course, the coward. 

Once out of sight of anyone else, Gaston wrapped an arm around her waist. “It's not too late, you know,” he whispered. “I could keep you safe, if you were my wife. Hide you in my cabin, away from prying eyes. We'd be happy.”

She fixed her gaze straight ahead. “The Village would fall without a Shield.”

He sighed like he was dealing with a difficult child. “Nobody would miss Eloise.” 

“Stop,” she said, as sternly as she could manage. “I'm the Shield, and that's final. Let's get on with it.”

Belle saw the flash of anger on Gaston's face, but he didn't say anything for the next minute or so, and then they finally reached the spot. There was a large tree, separated from the rest, right before the forest became really dense and dark. It was where Gaston found the first unlucky Villager, who died brutally on the full moon six months ago and thus satiated the Beast and prevented an attack on the Village as a whole. And it was here that Gaston now secured her with a rough rope to the tree. A Shield. A sacrifice. 

“Last chance,” Gaston searched her face.

Belle pointedly turned away, looking up at the brightly lit night sky. 

“Have it your way,” he pulled the rope tighter around her, making her gasp, and finished tying the knot. 

Then, he left. 

It was quiet for what felt like a very long time, and gradually her hearing adjusted to the Forest. She heard the rustle of trees in the wind, the hoot of an owl and the scurrying of some small animal, and then all of a sudden silence fell once more. Belle held her breath, afraid to disturb the quiet. 

Something was moving through the thicket. A large animal, from the sound of it, breaking branches as it paced. A cloud passed by the moon, casting strange shadows and making it look like there was something in the undergrowth. Belle squinted, leaning forward as much as her bindings allowed. 

That something, however, didn't seem interested in remaining hidden for long. It jumped out of the bushes, massive in size, brown fur ruffled, yellow eyes glowing. 

Sharp fangs bared. 

It lunged at her. 

Belle couldn't help but scream.

The Diner

Ruby was making her morning rounds between the tables, pouring coffee for Leroy and his friends (no milk, some with sugar - of course, Leroy drank his black) before stopping by Henry and the new girl. At first Ruby wasn't sure what to think of Emma Swan - it was no secret that Henry and Regina were going through a rough patch, and that could leave the poor kid vulnerable - but the blonde soon proved to be a no-nonsense, decent person. And Mary Margaret made friends with her, which was a good enough vibe check for Ruby. 

“Mooooorning,” Ruby grinned at the pair. “Coffee?” 

Henry's eyes lit up. “Yes, please!”

“No,” Emma said sternly. Sighing, she turned back to Ruby. “The usual?” 

“You got it,” Ruby poured her a mug, adding a dash of milk and sugar. 

“You're a lifesaver,” Emma sent her a thankful, tired look. 

“I live to serve,” Ruby gave a mock salute and returned to the counter, where Granny was busy packing a few pastries to go. “Let me guess, for your favorite patron?” 

Granny sighed and hung her head - not fast enough to hide her humorous smile from Ruby, though. “I just don't understand why Mr. Adams calls to order instead of coming here,” she muttered. 

“I can take it to him, it's no biggie,” Ruby shrugged. “Any requests from the library?” 

“Oh, ask if the new Dan Brown has arrived,” Granny asked, offering Ruby the bag. “And tell that pretty girl of yours I said hi.” 

Ruby rolled her eyes affectionately. “Only if you say hi to Mr. Adams as well.”

“I packed an extra croissant on the house, isn't that enough?” Granny protested. 

Ruby took the package and left without another word. Jeez, her Granny was hopeless. The deadline was coming up, and Ruby would not tolerate any awkwardness on that special dinner. 

The Beast 

Belle shut her eyes, bracing for impact, for teeth to tear her apart. 

Nothing came. 

Instead, the Beast circled around her, sniffing with great interest, before nudging her with its nose. 

Belle squinted at it in confusion and, dare she say, curiosity. From up close, the Beast appeared to be an abnormally large wolf, its yellow eyes gleaming with interest one would expect from… well, a person. And of course, with the full moon shining bright above, the nature of the monster was undeniable. “Uhh, mr werewolf?” Belle tried, smiling awkwardly when the Beast tilted its head to indicate it was listening. “I imagine if you wanted to eat me you would've done that by now, so assuming you are sparing me, could you please…” she shuffled in place, “take care of these ropes?” 

The Beast’s ears twitched, and for a second Belle felt silly, but then it bared its teeth and took the ropes in its mouth, grazing Belle’s arm in the process. Belle stifled a cry of pain, hoping the taste of blood wouldn't send the Beast into a frenzy. 

The Beast tugged hard, growling like it was about to tear its prey’s throat, and snapped the ropes. Belle collapsed on her knees, drawing in a sharp breath. The Beast came closer, nudging her and making a noise that almost sounded like a whine - but, surely werewolves didn't do that, right? “I'm alright,” she reassured the creature, getting to her feet. The Beast made a bark-like sound and began trotting away, stopping after a few steps to look back at her. “You want me to follow?” Belle asked to clarify, and the Beast barked once more and continued on its way. Belle ran, lifting her skirts to avoid tripping, barely keeping up with the Beast even though it stopped and waited for her multiple times, until they reached a tree with roots so massive they stuck out of the ground, creating a natural small nook. The Beast slipped inside, Belle following, and went for a pile of red clothes, nudging it as though trying to get beneath it. “Here, let me help you,” she offered, picking up what appeared to be a hood and draping it over the creature. “That's better, isn't-” 

But the wolf was no longer a wolf. Its shape began to distort, grow in height and shrink in bulkiness, rising on its hind legs and shifting all over until it was finally replaced with a young woman. 

“Ahhh, that's better,” the woman grinned, sharp fangs still visible in her human mouth, and winked at Belle with bright yellow eyes. 

Belle couldn’t help but gape at her. “You’re- you’re a person.”

The woman stretched her arms, like she’d just woken up from a nap, or emerged from a small space – which was the case, in a way. “Not exactly,” she said, her cocky attitude gone as she looked everywhere but at Belle. “I’m both – girl and wolf, and without this cloak-” she tugged on the red fabric for emphasis, “-on the night of the full moon I’m just a wolf.”

Belle looked her over. The woman was clearly uncomfortable, but it was hard to tell if it was due to admitting her beastly nature or, as Belle feared, guilt. “So, when you were a wolf earlier, why did you save me?” she asked, careful not to imply unlike the others.

“Believe it or not, I can control myself in that state. Only thing the moon does is force me to transform. And, well, I don’t exactly want to hurt people.”

Belle was growing more and more confused by the minute. That didn’t sound like someone who spent the previous five full moons mauling Shields… “this is going to sound strange,” she prefaced, “but… did you… see other people tied up like me on the last full moons?”

The wolf-woman furrowed her brow in consideration. “Yeah, there were a few… an old lady, a little kid with a limp, the last one was a guy with shaking hands – I thought he was just scared of me, but now that I said it out loud it’s clear they all have something in common.” Concern took over her features. “I’m sorry, you had to run after me the whole way- hey, whoa!”

Belle’s trembling legs gave out and she collapsed, the woman’s arms catching her right before she hit the ground. She trembled, even as the other woman held her. The warmth of her touch helped somewhat, but Belle couldn’t stop shaking like a leaf. 

“Hey, stay with me,” the other woman said. “Come on, focus on me, uh- do- tell me something,” she asked, but Belle’s mind was fogged by the horrible realization. This is a set-up. It’s always been a set-up. They called her father weird and generally disliked him, but to that extent- to try and- 

“I’m Red, probably should’ve said it before, huh,” the woman said, her awkwardness somehow clearing Belle’s head a bit. “What’s your name?”

She struggled for a moment, having seemingly forgotten how to string sounds together into something coherent. “Belle,” she eventually managed. “I’m Belle.”

“Well, I could tell that just by looking. What’s your name, though?”

Belle tried to find meaning in this nonsense for a second before snorting. 

Red sat back on her heels and smiled gently. “That’s more like it.”

Belle took a few more steadying breaths before croaking, “I’m okay now.”

“Good,” Red rubbed a hand over Belle’s arm. “So, why were you and the others tied up in the woods?”

Belle told her what the Village was doing- no, what they claimed to be doing, and why. “But it doesn’t add up,” she muttered angrily, “I mean- if you didn’t eat them, where are they? 

Red’s eyes widened before darting to the side. 

Belle frowned. “What is it?”

“They’re kinda…” Red seemed to know exactly what she wanted to say, but not how. “...hiding with my friends from the Evil Queen?”

“What?” Belle never would’ve guessed. “As in, with the resistance? You know the resistance?” Maybe resistance wasn’t the official term, but the Evil Queen wasn’t called that for no reason, and rumors of what a girl going by Snow White was doing - they had aliases and everything! Just like in the books! - reached even small villages such as Belle’s.

Red flinched. “Is that… bad?”

“No!” Belle hurriedly said. “No, I just- sorry, it’s just so amazing. You’re a werewolf, the resistance is around here truly helping people, and my father-” she paused, excitement dying as the dread settled back in, with Belle clear-headed enough now to put it into words. “If all the others were chosen because they were different, then my volunteering won’t change anything. My father will be sent to the woods next month.”

“Well, yeah, but I’ll just lead him to the others,” Red offered. 

Belle shook her head. “What if the resistance has to move tomorrow? Or in a week?”

Red thought it over. “I could stay back. I’m not really doing this on a mission, anyway. Don’t worry, I’ll keep him safe, just like the other four.”

“Thanks,” Belle nodded. Then frowned. Wait, four? “Who were they?”

“Uh, like I said, the old lady, the kid, the guy, and another old man who I think couldn’t hear me?” Constance, Gustave, Jerome, Lucien, Belle was mentally keeping track. “I transformed and tried to explain everything but he just ran into the woods.” Red shrugged. “Can’t blame him.”

“What about Jeremie?” Belle asked. “Pretty big, kinda short, has a massive mustache? He was the first so-called victim of the Beast.”

Red was now frowning as well. “I never saw him. When did he-?”

“Six months ago.”

“Oh,” she sighed in obvious relief, “before I got here. Sorry, I wouldn’t know what happened to him.”

“I think I’m starting to figure it out,” Belle said. “We didn’t always leave out… sacrifices. This all started six months ago, when our hunter, Gaston, said he discovered a great and terrible Beast in the woods, and that only Jeremie’s so-called ‘valiant sacrifice’ protected us. But he couldn’t have seen you, which means-”

Red bit her lip. “He made up a monster? Why?”

“I don’t know,” Belle huffed, “it’s not like anything else could’ve killed-”

She paused. 

Red looked at her. “oh no.”

“No way,” Belle shook her head, despite knowing better. 

Red bit her lip worriedly. “Belle,” she said slowly.

“I know, Red! I’m just-” she averted her gaze, “not happy about it.”

Red’s expression softened. “Well, how about this?” she lay a steadying hand on Belle’s arm, “Gaston’s power comes from the people, right? So, we could… expose him.”

“We could,” Belle mused, “if we brought one of the previous Shields back alive.”

Red smiled. “Camp’s that way,” she tilted her head and began to walk, leading Belle. For her part, Belle was desperately trying to ignore the pleasant, warm tingling Red’s touch sent down her arm.

The Library

The bell chimed as Ruby entered the library, the click of her heels muffled by the carpeted floor. It was too early for visitors - not that there was ever anything like a rush hour, what with Storybrooke being such a small town. 

Ruby spotted Morris at the counter, too occupied by paperwork to notice her. She smiled to herself, stalking towards the counter and, once she was on the other side of the counter, cheerfully called, “good morning, Mr. Adams!” 

The poor man jumped in his seat, but quickly relaxed once he saw her. “My, Ruby, you're so quiet!” 

“Me? Never,” she chuckled and held up the pastry bag for him. “Granny says a very good morning to you.” 

“Oh,” Morris gingerly took the offered bag from her. “Oh no, this is more than I had ordered-” 

“Like I said, a very good morning from her,” Ruby reiterated. With her quest completed, she put both hands on her hips and looked around. “Now, where was that French Lit section?” 

“Really, young Miss Lucas, don't you read?” Morris asked playfully. “She- uh, it- is right over there, third shelf on your right, can't miss it.” 

“Thank you!” 

Ruby knew where the French books were, of course, this wasn't her first time at the library. Morris knew this, too. And they both knew who French Lit was code for. 

Annabelle Adams came into view right as Ruby took the right turn, humming to herself as she read some old hardcover. She was so immersed that she didn’t look up or acknowledge Ruby in any way. 

Silently stalking towards her from behind, Ruby made her presence known by wrapping her arms around Annabelle from behind. “Wat’cha readin’?”

Annabelle didn’t even flinch, used to Ruby’s antics as she is, and tilted her head back. “The Count just realized revenge isn’t the point.”

“Good for him,” Ruby turned her head a bit to the right, meeting Annabelle’s lips as she turned to her as well. “So he also quit plotting?”

Annabelle hummed. “I don't think he can not plot, at this point. Speaking of, how is our own little scheme going?”

“Horribly,” Ruby threw her head back and groaned. “Granny doesn’t know how to talk, and Morris can’t take a hint, so nothing’s going anywhere.”

“Yeah,” Annabelle sighed, “I’ve been on morning takeout calling duty for most of this week because Dad feels awkward about those extras in every order. I don’t think this indirect communication rom-com-style tactic is working.”

“We need a new plan, then.” Better be fast about it, or else Thanksgiving was going to be super awkward. “Maybe we could… trap them in an elevator? It always works in the movies.”

“They need to enter the same elevator, though,” Annabelle pointed out. “I also wouldn’t know how to break an elevator. But if they were stuck together somehow…”

Ruby thought for a moment. “There's always the pantry. It's pretty big, way less stressful than, I dunno, a supply closet.” 

“Okay, that works. But how to get them…?” Annabelle paced as she mumbled to herself, before suddenly snapping her fingers. “I know a guy who can help.” 

Ruby quirked her brow. “You know a guy?” 

“Actually, we know a guy. Very creative, kinda short, always scheming with the Sheriff over breakfast?” 

Ruby sighed. “You do realize it means The Thanksgiving Plot will become Operation Platypus?” 

Annabelle shrugged. “It's a price I'm willing to pay.”

The Return

Convincing Jerome to come back to the Village, even just to expose Gaston, was as hard as Belle imagined it would be. The former blacksmith was even more gruff than usual, and rightfully so, but at the moment Belle needed him to listen. 

“Jerome, right?” Red chimed in, sitting down next to the man. Goodness, Belle just realized, in the morning light and without her hood she seemed so soft. “It's not exactly what happened to me, but I also lost my place in my home town. I understand not wanting anything to do with them. But this? Now? All we're asking is that you help us expose Gaston.” She tilted her head and smirked. “You'll be back at camp long before the Beast comes out, I promise.” 

Jerome looked her over for a moment with his steel gaze, and then, to Belle's great relief, threw his head back in howling laughter. “Payback, eh? Aye, I could do that. Lead the way.”

They reached the Village by noon, exactly a full day after the gathering. The Villagers were all in the same place, listening to Gaston's speech about Belle's noble sacrifice as the Head held up her blue-and-white dress, torn and bloodsoaked. “And as the Moon wanes,” Gaston concluded, the trio now close enough to hear his droning, “the monster slinks back into the woods, and we are safe once more.” 

“I don't believe the threat was there in the first place.” 

Belle's words hit the crowd with the intended impact, drawing shocked gasps from the Villagers and making Gaston's jaw drop in an almost comical way. Belle was ready to continue her little monologue, but the words were knocked out of her as Maurice charged at her, crushing her in his arms. “Father,” she sighed, relief flooding through her entire body. 

“My little flower,” he whispered, running his hand through her hair as he’d used to when she was younger and afraid of the dark, “it’s really you.” 

“Not just her,” Jerome grumbled, stepping forward and making the crowd even more confused. “You were all so inconvenienced when I came back from the Ogre Wars and couldn’t make new horseshoes, that you threw me to the hounds under the pretense that it would protect you. Constance still doesn’t understand why she can’t go back home-” he’s forced to pause as shouts of Constance? Where is she? She’s alive? drown out his voice. 

“She’s alive because there is no Beast!” Belle screamed at the top of her lungs. “I sat by the tree for hours before Jerome cut me loose. The other Shields are alive as well. All except for Jeremie, which begs the question - Gaston, how did he die?”

Gaston, only now snapping out of his initial shock, sent one his so-called dazzling smiles the crowd’s way. The tension in the air did not ease one bit. “Everything is exactly as I’ve said - the Shields have protected all of us by distracting the Beast. That most of them escaped unscathed only goes to show that this is no common creature, but an intelligent, magical one, and our bravery and willingness to protect each other swayed its very core-”  

“No,” the Head mumbled, but with Gaston pausing and the others hanging silently onto every word exchanged between the hunter and the survivors it was heard just as well. “You brought back bloodied clothes,” he turned to face Gaston, voice unsteady. “You brought back torn shirts and muddy skirts and more blood than cloth and we buried them because you said it was all that remained of our people!”

“Don’t absolve yourself, you came up with the lottery,” Gaston sneered, practically baring his teeth at the man.

“So there is a Beast after all, Gaston,” Belle’s eyes narrowed, her gaze ice-cold. “It’s you.” 

The crowd, thankfully, wasn’t equipped with torches and pitchforks. They surrounded Gaston and jumped him like a pack of wild animals, and it took multiple men and women to restrain him as the others howled threats and violent suggestions on what to do next. Belle, to her great shame, froze, not knowing what to do or how to get to the crowd, just knowing deep in her bones that this sort of retaliation wasn’t justice - not their kind of justice, at any rate. 

“ENOUGH!” Red’s cry rang above the cries of the mob. They stopped, if only out of confusion at the stranger. “Look at yourselves! You are all beasts, just as much as he is!” there was a collective cry of protest, but Red simply raised her own voice. “Yes, I mean it! Gaston decided to put out human sacrifice, and he killed one of your own, but you all let him! You played along! You took part in his monstrosities!” She was trembling with righteous fury now. Belle stepped forward, entwining one hand with Red’s and squeezing to steady her. Red glanced her way, slowly exhaled, and went on, “there is a real beast in this town, and it’s in all of you. So to save your village, you have to do something much harder than just kill the one that started it.”

The silence that followed couldn’t have stretched for longer than a couple seconds, but to Belle it felt like ages. Terror that the Village would turn on Red next seized her heart, and an idea flashed in her mind and rolled off her tongue. “We’ll hold a trial,” she suggested. “Gaston will face consequences for his actions. And so will we.”

The Operation

Ruby had done a lot of stupid shit in her life - the memory of the end of high-school prank gone wrong due to her mixing up the bucket of dirty water with the pranky one was practically seared into her brain - but this had to take the cake. 

She set down three more chairs inside the pantry and leaned against the doorframe for a moment. “Are we done yet?”

Annabelle carried a single chair inside. “Halfway there, I think!” she declared cheerfully.

Ruby groaned and dropped her head on Annabelle’s shoulder. “I still can’t believe that kid talked us into this. What is this cartoon logic?” 

“My poor precious,” Annabelle said in a jokingly soothing voice, kissing the crown of Ruby’s head. “It’ll work so well though. And be very funny.”

“Fiiiiine,” Ruby pulled herself away from her girlfriend’s softness and went back to work, making a show out of slinging three more chairs over her shoulder and earning a lovely smitten expression from Annabelle. 

It took another hour, but fortunately Henry Mills, chief conspirator, now had the town’s sheriff on his side and could pull off much longer and more complicated distractions, and so it was that when the sun set and both Granny and Morris came to the diner they’d found all the chairs mysteriously missing. 

Granny put both hands on her hips. “Ruby, what happened here?”

“Me?” Ruby raised a hand to her chest in exaggerated offense. “I was doing the dishes!” 

Annabelle came to her assistance. “Weirder things have happened in Storybrooke lately, Granny Lucas. No truck stopped anywhere near the diner today, so the chairs can’t be far.”

Morris hesitated before resting a supportive hand on Granny’s shoulder. “If we all look together, I’m certain we can find all the chairs in no time.”

Granny looked like she was about to grumble again, but just sighed in apparent defeat. “Fine, let’s go hunt my furniture.” 

They spent half an hour combing the perimeter, giving up on the outside when it became clear that no footprint trails indicated someone, let alone someones, walking back and forth with a few dozens of stolen chairs. At that point Granny went back inside and huffed and puffed about calling the police, singular, but Morris, bless that stubborn old man, scouted the indoors once more, eventually stopping by the pantry, peeking inside and-

“Mrs. Lucas?” he called out. “You’re not going to believe this.”

Granny quickened her walking pace, not stomping but kinda looking like she were, and audibly gasped when she saw the newest content in the pantry - that being, of course, all the chairs organized in multiple towering piles. Ruby and Annabelle ran up to the pair, Ruby barely holding in her laughter, and as soon as both Morris and Granny were fully inside, Annabelle shut the door and Ruby swiftly locked it. 

The sound of a single chair being dragged came from inside, then the door handle was pulled, to no avail. Annabelle pressed a finger to her smiling lips, while Ruby stifled a giggle, even as Granny knocked on the door and cried, “this isn't funny, Ruby, open up!” 

Ruby struggled to stop herself from howling. 

Morris’ voice came through more muffled. “Mrs. Lucas, these things happen. You know, the back room in the library used to-” 

“No, she needs to hear this isn't funny,” Granny insisted, knocking on the door again. 

Morris exhaled loudly enough for Ruby and Annabelle to hear him. “I promise, Mrs. Lucas, I can keep up. Don't let my dusty librarian appearance deceive you.” Quietly, almost too quietly for the girls outside the door to pick up, he added, “so can Annabelle.” 

Huh? Annabelle mouthed.

“What?” Granny asked. 

“I just mean- I know you have very high standards, and I didn’t want to disappoint you, but I-”

“You didn’t want to disappoint me?” Granny repeated, but, to Ruby’s great relief, it didn’t sound forceful at all. “Mr. Adams, I was only trying to show you that me and Ruby are on your level. I know Ruby may seem careless-”

Ouch, Ruby frowned. 

“-but she’s a very passionate young lady, and your daughter makes her very happy. I hoped not to scare you away.”

Morris laughed. “Scare me? Mrs. Lucas, I was afraid you’d think we’re not good enough, and that my Annie will lose this.” 

“Oh,” Granny said, laughing awkwardly. “In that case, I apologize. For making you think that way.” 

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Morris insisted. “In fact, I should be-”

“”If I don’t get to apologize, neither should you,” Granny declared, in that voice that made it clear there was no room for argument. Ruby winced sympathetically; this one was usually directed at her when she tried to skip late shifts. 

Annabelle tilted her head towards the door.

Ruby exhaled and nodded. 

Annabelle raised an eyebrow.

Ruby smiled. 

Both girls got up, Annabelle sneaking a slight distance away from the pantry door only to step closer loud enough for the duo inside to hear, while Ruby found the key and unlocked the door. The couple threw their whole body into pushing the door open, stumbling as it did, as if they really had to fight the poor thing. “Oh my gosh,” Annabelle said breathlessly, “are you guys okay?” 

Granny and Morris stared at them for a moment. “We’ll live,” Granny deadpanned. 

Ruby quickly grabbed a pile of chairs and moved to carry it to the diner proper. “I’ve got this,” she winked at Granny.

As she restored the diner to normalcy, Ruby heard Annabelle spinning some tale about disappearing to look for a cart to make the process easier, but then thought better of it and decided it would be faster to just return and do it all themselves. Granny and Morris insisted on giving a helping hand, despite the girls’ protests, and so Ruby found herself with the perfect opportunity to whisper to Granny, “I’ve been thinking, Thanksgiving gets pretty lonely with just the two of us, right? So how about…” 

Granny seemed to concentrate so hard on the exact arrangement of Table Four that Ruby was afraid she’d have to repeat herself and annoy her, but after a few seconds Granny turned back to her and - no, not her, but to Morris and Annabelle. “Mr. Adams,” she called, “if you’re not tired of this place yet, would you like to come to holiday dinner?” 

Morris spent a moment processing the offer, turned to have a silent conversation with his daughter, then nodded. “Dinner sounds fantastic.”

The Aftermath

Jerome took the lead from there. 

It felt right, Belle was only gone for a single day while he had to grapple with the whole ordeal for two months. He suggested bringing Constance as the judge, while he got everything and everyone ready, first order of business being where and how to keep the bulky hunter imprisoned until the day of the trial. 

In the commotion Belle almost didn’t notice Red slipping away. Almost. 

She caught up to her easily enough that it became clear Red wanted her to, and made her presence known with a cry of: “wait up!” 

Red stopped, turning around and waiting for Belle to close the distance between them. 

“You’re leaving?” Belle questioned. 

Red averted her gaze. “Uh, seems like you have enough on your plate as it is.”

Belle frowned. “Not that much - I mean, the villain was exposed and justice will be served, my part is practically done. And none of that means you can’t stick around, anyhow.”

Red made a sound that was half groan half sigh, running a hand through her hair. “I just- I don’t… belong here, not as a person, and the moment they all learn what else I am? It’ll be over, I’ll have to leave anyway, only you will be in trouble by association. So I’m sparing you now and going back to my bandit friends in the woods.” She gave Belle a weak smile. “It’s not so bad, really. Some of them are actually my friends, which is more than I ever thought I’d have. I mean, who could ever learn to love a beast?”

“Oh, Red,” Belle reached out and took the other woman’s hand once more, not squeezing but bringing it close to her chest and clasping it tight with both her own. “Loving you is the easiest thing in the world.”

Red’s eyes widened, and she visibly fought to steady herself. “I-” she swallowed, laughed nervously, and tried again. “I could stop by every now and then?” 

Belle grinned. “Sounds perfect.”