Chapter 10

Author’s Note: This is written with great respect, love and gratitude for the talents of Robert Carlyle, Emilie de Ravin, and everyone involved in of Once Upon A Time. I do not own these characters, nor do I own the songs mentioned in this story.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Epilogue

Friday, October 21, 2011 — 2 days before Emma’s arrival.

With the first full day of their newly defined exclusive relationship, there is a change in Izzy-B and Randall’s daily routine, opting to eat breakfast together at Granny’s Diner. Given all the attempts at eaves dropping, they negotiate that future breakfasts will involve bringing food to his pawn shop or if the situation warrants breakfast at Randall’s or Izzy-B’s house. Considering the competitive, controlling nature of both parties, negotiating the perimeters of their relationship ends up being more challenging than writing a business contract, yet substantially more enjoyable and beneficial to both parties.

Getting into her 1991 teal green Saturn sedan, Izzy-B’s cell phone chimes. Answering she says, “Hey Randall, what’s up?”

With a bit of a husk and a tone of determination in his voice, “I want to see you tonight.”

Izzy-B is fairly certain that one day that voice is going to make her heart explode, but she has been putting off her monthly plans for too long and feels the strain. Looking at the waning moon rising in the sky, she says hesitantly, “I can’t tonight. It’s my monthly thing.”

Awkwardly he says, “Oh, well, uh…I could come to your house and bring you chocolate or anything you might need to feel better. Does chicken soup work for that?”

Izzy-B snorts a laugh as tears well in her eyes, and then pushing down the urge to giggle wildly, she says, “Um, well…first, thank you for the offer, it was very sweet and greatly appreciated. Second, why do men’s minds always go there? It’s not that…I have sort of a monthly ritual that I partake in by myself, and I’ve put it off several times this month because I’ve been distracted by a sexy Scotsman.”

Feeling himself blush over the combination of the misunderstanding and the fact that she referred to him as sexy, “Sorry, I thought…oh never mind. What’s this ritual?”

Hedging she says, “It’s kind of a cut loose night. Not really your speed.”

She realizes her poor choice of words, when she hears the competitive challenge in his voice, as he says, “Not my speed. Really, dear?”

Suddenly realizing that being in a relationship means explaining things, she rolls her eyes and says, “I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just, I know you wouldn’t enjoy it, and I’m wound tighter than an eight day clock right now, so I need to do this.”

In an ornery tone, he says, “It’s rather presumptuous to assume that I wouldn’t enjoy it. You don’t know me that well. I’m coming along.”

Pulling the phone from her ear and staring at it, she thinks, “Did he just announce he’s coming along on my cut loose night? What nerve! Fine! Guess he’s got a lesson to learn.”

Standing firm in the silence wondering what will be her next gambit, he waits, uneasily hoping he has not pushed his luck too far. Though she is not certain that she is ready for him to see this side of her, she says resolutely, “Fine. My rules…and I don’t hold back for you. I’ll pick you up in a little while.”, and hangs up before he can get in another word.

Izzy-B meets him at his shop, her stomach gnawing with worry about doing this with Randall. Having locked his shop, he strides, cane in hand toward her car. She typically does not give much thought to his impairment, other than the occasional concern about him being in pain, however tonight it is in the forefront of her thoughts. She grabs the lever in the front center of the passenger’s seat to give him more room to stretch is legs. Reaching over, she unlocks and opens the passenger’s side door.

He gets in the car, noticing her expression is tense and indecipherable, and he asks, “Ready for our little adventure, dear?”

Swallowing hard and looking at him with steely eyes, Izzy-B says, “What I’m doing isn’t exactly safe? Hell, it could be described as ‘damn crazy’. Are you sure you want to do this?”

He studies her white knuckles on the steering wheel. A knot forms in the pit of his stomach. Part of him wants to back out of this evening’s events, part of him is determined as a matter of pride to see it through, and finally, another part of him worries for Izzy-B if she is indeed doing something dangerous, he does not want her to be alone. With a light tone, he says, “Okay, Belle, let’s get this show on the road.”

Sternly, she says, “Buckle your seat-belt.”

He smirks, that she is dictating to him like a child, and then fastens the belt. She reaches over to the belt and jerks hard to confirm that it is fastened securely. With a deep breath, she begins to drive out of Storybrooke proper and into the forest. As they enter the wooded area, she opens the sun roof though it is forty-five degrees, and pushes the overdrive button in the center console. Turning on the stereo to a high volume, she blasts “Addicted to Love” by Orianthi with a wailing guitar, as her speed steadily increases.

Randall finds his gaze flickering between her face and the speedometer. There is something manic and determined in her expression. The desire to talk to her, possibly talk her out of what she is doing, is overridden by the realization that she needs her full concentration for whatever she has in mind. He finds himself unconsciously grabbing and holding tight to the handle above the door. She sings along with the stereo.

It’s so wrong that it’s right

Don’t leave me tonight

Make my heart beat faster, yeah you bring me to life

And I try to forget you

But I can’t cause I’m addicted to love”

During an instrumental portion of the song Izzy-B emits a sound oddly reminiscent of a howl. The uneasy realization dawns on Randall that they are heading towards the town border. He cannot fathom why he finds leaving Storybrooke is disquieting; after all he used to live in Boston, right?

He sees the speedometer reach eighty-eight miles per hour. Clenching his teeth, he yells to an oblivious Izzy-B, “Belle? Izzy-B? Don’t do this!”

At the same time he utters the word ‘Don’t', she slams on the breaks, jerking them both forward against the restraint of the seat-belts, as tires squeal and swerve and Izzy-B lets out a manic scream. Seconds pass and the car comes to a rest less than a foot from the sign stating, ‘Leaving Storybrooke’. She pulls the car off the road, parks, reaches to her left side, using the lever to recline her seat all the way back and howls. Randall’s heart races in a way that he has never experienced. He half wonders if he could be having a heart attack. He watches Izzy-B, who is lying back panting. The only word that he can think of to describe her appearance is ‘orgasmic‘. He is strangely mesmerized as he watches her.

He turns down the stereo in order for his senses to focus on her flushed face. Despite the cold rushing in from the sunroof, her brow glistens with perspiration. Barely above a whisper, she rasps out, “One day…one day, I’m leaving Storybrooke.”, and closes her eyes, smiling.

Randall is hit with a tidal wave of emotion. He feels crushed at the thought of Izzy-B leaving. He stares into the darkness for several minutes, and then he notices her eyes open gazing at the moon and stars. He leans to the side in order to look down upon her face, and asks, “Why?”

She looks at him with confusion, and he says, “Why are you going to leave Storybrooke?”

Her face crumbles into tears, as she says, “Because I don’t belong here. It’s like my skin doesn’t fit right. There are so many bad memories here…the only good thing here is you.”

His heart aches at her words. He knows what he is feeling. They have only spent a minute amount of time together, yet he knows it. He loves this woman so much he can barely stand it, and yet she is like a frightened animal ready to flee. One day, he will tell her that he loves her…one day, when she won’t feel the need to run. For now, he leans down bringing his hand to her face to stroke her wet cheek. He presses his lips tenderly upon hers with a barely open mouthed kiss. As he pulls away, his eyes view her face through a filter of halos and colors created by his own tears, and he says in a voice cracking full of his emotional rogue, “Please don’t go without me.”

She reaches up, running her fingers through his hair, softly kisses him, pulling away with a whisper of a smile, and then wordlessly resumes staring at the sky. He leans his own seat back, gazing at the heavens.

After quite some time passes, Randall asks, “Why drive so fast? What’s the point of it?”

In a thoughtful yet detached manner as if she is talking about someone else, she says, “Because it’s scary. I hate being afraid, yet I am. Hell, now I drive everywhere, instead of walking. I guess, I’m doing it in the hopes that if I do enough scary things, eventually I’ll stop being scared.”

He peers into the dark forest, illuminated only by the headlights of the car, and considers her words. A while later, he feels her eyes intently upon him. He looks at her to see a mask of determination upon her face. Making sure the parking break is engaged, she unfastens her seat-belt. She twists her body snaking one leg across the center console and then the other. With her arms extended holding onto his seat for stability, she lifts her legs onto the seat to straddle his hips and unfastens Randall’s seat-belt. He looks at her rather dumbfounded. He thinks to himself, “Is she serious?”

Taking his face into her hands, she begins to nibble his lips, as she sits upon his lap. The sensation of her sitting on him with her skirt riding a bit up her legs from her change in position causes a pleasured gasp from him. Taking advantage of this open mouth, her tongue glides in deepening the kiss. His mind tells him this does not make sense, however his body literally aches for her. She moves her hands from his face to untuck her blouse. Pulling away from his lips, her mouth goes to his ear, licking the edge, and with a raspy whisper, she says, “It’s okay, Randall, you can touch me wherever you want.”, then proceeds to suck on his neck.

His hands feel like they have a mind of their own, as they ever so carefully slide up the back of her blouse massaging the small of her back. She shifts setting herself more firmly on his lap and reaches for his belt buckle. He gasps, pulling his hands away from her body to grab her wrists and says, breathlessly, “Belle, don’t.”

She sits back and stares at him, unsure what to do next. She bites her lip in confusion and says, “You don’t want me?”

With frustration clear in his voice, he says, “I want you more than I want to breathe…but I don’t want to be on your list of scary things to do.”

Getting defensive she stammers, “I…I didn’t mean…”

Releasing her wrists, he cradles her face in his hands and says, “It’s okay, love. I know you’re going through some emotional upheaval right now. But I want to have you when you are fully wanting me; not when part of you considers it a challenge. Also, when I have you, it will be on a nice big bed, where I can feast on your delights; not in a cramped car.”

Deflated, she lightly presses her forehead to his and sighs, “You’re probably right.” After a moment, she leans back and says, “There is something else I came out here to do, and I should do it by myself.”

She climbs back to her side of the car, closes the sunroof, turns on the heater and flips the trunk lever at the side of the seat. Opening her door, she says, “I’ll be back soon.”

Worried Randall says, “Wait, are you going to be alright.”

She smiles sweetly at him and says, “Of course, I just have one more part of my cut loose night ritual to complete.” He watches her go to the trunk and retrieve a deep red terrycloth robe and proceed to march into the forest towards the lake. He thinks to himself, “She’s not. What am I saying, of course she is.”

Pulling his seat into an upright position, going into guard dog mode, he watches her as she disappears from view. With visions of Izzy-B returning as a brunette popsicle, he weighs his options:

Option 1: Strip down and go in with her. “No! She’ll be angry that I didn’t respect her wishes, and there will be the additional awkwardness of the first time she sees me naked, parts of me will be trying to hide inside of me.”

Option 2: Go to the lake and insist she refrain from skinny dipping. “Damn! There’s that respecting her wishes problem again.”

Option 3: Decide she is a grown woman and wait like she asked, but if it takes too long, revisit option 2. “I wonder how those Polar Bear Club members keep from having hypothermia or ending up with pneumonia?”

Looking at his phone, realizing the temperature has dropped to forty-one degrees, he turns up the heater in anticipation of her return, thinking to himself, “Hurry up, Belle! Whether you’ll get angry or not, I’m not letting you freeze to death!”

Another few minutes tick agonizingly by, unable to take it anymore, Randall opens his door to go find Izzy-B. Just then making shrill squealing sounds from the cold air on her wet skin and hair, Izzy-B clad in her robe, holding her clothes in a bundle runs towards the car.

In an authoritarian tone, he calls, “Come to this side.”

He leans his seat all the way back to make has much room as possible. She looks at him curiously, and he says, “We need to warm you up. Get over here and lie down.”

She rings out her hair one more time before getting in, tosses her pile of clothes to her seat, and lies on down partly on the seat, partly on him. He wraps his arms around her waist, as cold water seeps into his suit. She is so cold, shivering violently that he snuggles himself around her as much as possible, while attempting in vain to banish the thought that she is nude under the robe. In an annoyed tone, he asks, “Was that really worth it?”

Defiantly, she replies, “Yes, I feel alive swimming in the moon light. It takes away the bad things, and it’ll be too cold next month to do it.”

Grumbling he says, “It’s too cold now.”

Izzy-B does not respond, rather focuses her attention on how warm and comforting his body feels against her. She knows he is aggravated with her, because he is worried. She cannot remember a time when someone cared enough to worry about her. It feels right when Randall is around, and she always wants him around, even when he sticks his nose in where it does not belong. She feels oddly pleased that he came with her tonight. She wonders about the feelings that she is having for him, “Is this what love feels like?”

After a few minutes, she says meekly, “I’m sorry I worried you. I didn’t want you to come tonight, because I thought it was too early for you to see how messed up I really am.”

He chuckles and kisses the top of her cold, wet head, “No matter, my darling Belle, we’re all messed up in our own way.”

She shifts her head to look at him, and says, “I’m glad you came along. You’re the only one that I would want to be this messed up with.” Laying her head back on his chest, she closes her eyes and listens to the stereo playing, ‘Walls’ by Yes.

I can feel my anger rising-

Am I to blame?

And I’m not gonna keep it inside me.

Do you feel the same?

I wanna love, I wanna give,

I want to find another way to live.

Another shout, another cry,

And the walls come tumbling down.”

Randall reaches over and winds down the window a couple of inches to keep proper air flow, and then strokes her back. Izzy-B is not sure if she fell asleep, but before she knows it, an hour has passed. Deciding that it would be best to head back to town, Randall gets out and stands with his back to the car as Izzy-B scrambles to get her clothes on under the robe. She drives him back to the pawn shop, and he follows her in his car back to her house and waits for her to enter before driving home. This was not how he expected this day to go, but he is certain of one thing, someday soon, he will tell her that he loves her. Click here to read more.

Author’s Note: Please review and share your thoughts! The Orianthi and Yes songs featured in this chapter are in YouTubes below this note.
Warning: Do not try driving like Izzy-B!…this was just for the story.
For those who are wondering about the mixed messages Izzy-B is giving Gold regarding a carnal relationship and what her bad memories are, chapter 14 will clue you in.
I think the Yes song, Walls, really fits where Izzy-B is emotionally. I always thought of it as a Rumple song, but writing this chapter, I saw Izzy-B in it too. On a side note, the song as a special place in mine and my husband’s hearts, because almost a year ago, June 14, 2012, my husband needed to be hospitalized for a sudden onset of type one (aka Juvenile Diabetes) and nearly died…when he was in severe pain, and I wanted to soothe him I pulled out my phone and played ‘Walls’. It’s one of the few things he can actually remember from that night.
This chapter and chapter 11 were originally intended to be one chapter, but when I got to the end of this, it felt like a nice stopping point to digest that Gold and Izzy-B falling in love with each other without knowing their Enchanted Forest past. So, this chapter was short and chapter 11 will be short as well. Then chapter 12 and 13 will be very long…Rumple remembers so there will be a lengthy Enchanted Forest flashback that will explain a lot of things…including the cave dream.
Click here to read more.

Click here to read more.

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