A Good Day for Moe French

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

So, I’m finally doing it…this one-shot is becoming a multi-chapter story. I’ve got a plot in mind, but I am open to suggestions.

A tall portly gray haired man with disheveled work clothes strides happily across the hospital parking lot. Today is a good day for Moe French; the best day in decades. He could almost feel guilty that the event of his daughter’s shooting had been the impetus for his good fortune; almost but not quite. She is fine. The beast, Rumplestiltskin, healed her wound. Then as Moe had heard it, his daughter, Belle, became hysterical, wanting nothing to do with Rumplestiltskin. To make things even better, Rumplestiltskin had left town. Moe cannot believe his good fortune to finally have his daughter back within his grasp.

She has no memory of their last encounter in the Storybrooke Mines, when he had tried to wipe his daughter’s memories away. Irony! She had been so angry at him, declaring that she never wanted to see him again. Now, she won’t remember her anger.

Arriving at the reception desk, he asks, “Where can I find Belle French’s room?”

Blonde teen volunteer, Ashley Boyd, also known as Cinderella, gives a vacuous smile, and says, “She’s in room 212.”

As he thanks her, he looks at the various signs to locate an elevator. He starts to devise a plan to hide Belle. After cavorting with the Dark One, no man will want her, so marriage is out of the question; unless one day they can leave Storybrooke and start anew. As he surveys signs directing patrons to cardiac, nephrology, maternity, etc., a queasy thought twists his stomach.

He enters the elevator thinking, “It would be horrible if that fiend had gotten her pregnant!” He clenches his fists at the thought. He will need to determine that immediately. If that distasteful circumstance happens, he can simply have Belle declared incompetent and have her stay in the hospital extended until he can arrange for the spawn to be exterminated. He thinks, certainly, he can count on Regina to pull some strings. Regina hates Rumplestiltskin as much as he does. By the time Rumplestiltskin returns from ‘who knows where‘, it will be done. Smugly he thinks to himself, “Yes, today is a great day!” Stepping out of the elevator, he follows the arrow on the sign pointing to rooms 210-220.

In room 212, sandy haired, Dr. Whale and a severe looking nurse, Agnes, talk tensely. Dr. Whale says in an authoritarian tone, “How did she get out? Did you tell her she’s pregnant?”

Annoyed, Agnes says, “I don’t know how the little basket case made it out of here. And no, I did not tell her. However, doctor, you did write the note on her lab work and left her file unattended.”

Bristling Dr. Whale says, “Regardless, we need to keep her condition quiet. Things were so hectic the night she came in, we don’t know if she already knew she was pregnant and told Rumplestiltskin before she lost her memory. I don’t relish the idea of him removing my arm, if he thinks we did something to his child.”

Agnes says sourly, “Your arm will be the least of your worries, if that happens.”

Then the door to room 212 opens with Moe calling out expectantly, “Belle?”

In the kitchen, Rumplestiltskin prepares the tea, as Belle sits at the table. From the cabinet, he removes the box of teabags that Belle brought over last week. He stares at the word ‘Decaffeinated‘ on the box. It is not the tea Belle usually drinks. He takes another look in the cabinet, where Belle keeps her stuff when she stays over. He spies another new arrival, Saltine Crackers. She had been eating the crackers last week, because of an upset stomach. When he asked her about it, she said it was probably nervousness about the library opening soon. He wonders, “Did she know she was pregnant? If she did, why wouldn’t she tell me?

Suddenly, Rumplestiltskin recalls the day of her shooting. He had called her to tell her to come to his shop, in order to tell her about being able to leave town. Before they ended the call, she said that she had some big news for him too. At the shop, he was completely caught up in his news about being able to leave to find Baelfire, thus he never asked her about her own news. When the thought occurred to him that evening on the drive to the town border, she quietly said something about the possibility of a ‘new production‘, but since she was not one hundred percent sure, she thought she should wait until he returned from his trip.

Damn it!“, chastising himself. She had tried to tell him and even asked to go along on the trip, but he was too wrapped up in his own plans to notice.

Just days before, she had stopped wearing her sky-high-heels, opting for a more practical, sure-footed boots, and she had asked him whether he wanted to have more children after he found Baelfire. It was that day that she had been acting quite strangely; one moment giddy, the next at the edge of tears, and then a little while later laughing hysterically about something. He had chalked it up to being ‘that time of the month‘, but he had learned long ago never to ask a woman if that was the reason for her mood swings. If only he had been able to make enough potion to create two talismans, she would have been wearing her talisman at the border, and they could have gone to New York together. Things would be very different now.

In a timid voice, Belle asks, “Is everything alright?”, pulling him from his mental torture.

Smiling sadly, but attempting to make his tone reassuring, “Yes, Belle…”, he notices a barely perceivable frown at the use of her given name, he continues, “I just realized I’m not sure how you’d like your tea.”

Belle looks at him questioningly, “We’re having a baby together, and you don’t know how I like my tea?” He laughs halfheartedly, “No, no…I knew how you liked your tea before, but I don’t want to seem presumptuous about how you like it now.”

She smiles appreciatively, “The past few days, everybody has told me what to do, or how Belle used to do things. Nobody has asked my opinion about anything. Thank you.” Her brow furrows, and she says, “I don’t remember ever having tea. I don’t know the answer.”

In a nurturing tone, he says, “No time like the present to find out. I’ll bring over all the traditional ingredients and a couple of extra cups and you can experiment.” Belle nods shyly. Collecting all the items on a tray, he says, “If you’re having an upset stomach, I have some crackers that might help.”

A little surprised that he knew of her stomach upset, she says, “Yes, I’d like to try the crackers.”

Rumplestiltskin answering the unasked question, explains, “Morning sickness is fairly common with pregnancy, and it can happen at any time of the day.”

With a surprised chuckle, Belle says, “You really do know about these things, don’t you?”

He responds, “I know a wee bit, but I plan on doing some reading to get up to speed on our situation. We can learn together.”

With a slight smile, she whispers the word, “Together.” Just a few hours before, she felt completely alone and frightened, now the word ‘together‘ lightens her heart.

Presenting the tea tray, he says, “Here you go, dear. Experiment to your heart’s content.”

She giggles and asks, “How do you like your tea?”

He says, “I prefer mine black; nothing added.”

He watches as that is the first option she tries. Taking a sip, her nose crinkles and she says, “Too strong.”

He smiles and says, “Then time for another experiment.”

“Are there any rules?…about what goes with what, I mean.”

He leans in conspiratorially saying, “Generally, if you use cream, then don’t put in lemon…if you use lemon, don’t put in cream. The lemon may curdle the cream.”

Adding a cube of sugar in the tea, she tastes, shakes her head and adds some lemon. After tasting it again, she says, “That doesn’t seem quite right.”

He smiles, recalling that Belle only liked lemon in iced tea, and says, “Well, keep trying then.”

She moves on to another cup, continuing her experimenting, as he relishes the sight of her. Finally, she decides she likes it with cream and two cubes of sugar; almost like Belle typically drinks it except she usually opts for only one sugar cube.

Nibbling on a cracker, worry claims her expression, “If I ask you something, will you please tell me the truth? People have been lying to me for days, and I just need to know the truth. Please?

Feeling that he can not deny her anything at this moment, he says, “Of course, Belle, what is it?”

“That night…I…I saw you have a fireball in your hand, and I had been shot and was bleeding then your hand glowed…you stopped the bleeding. I know what I saw, but anytime I said something about it at the hospital they said it wasn’t true. That Ruby woman said she was my friend, but she told me it didn’t happen. She lied…she must have lied. I’m not crazy!” Belle begins crying, “Please tell me the truth. Please don’t stick me with any needles!

He feels anger bubbling up as he sees his Belle in such despair. He carefully, reaches across the table and takes Belle’s hand, “It’s alright, Belle. I’m not going to hurt you. Why would you think I’d stick a needle in you?”

“They did. At the hospital, when I would talk about what I saw, they’d say I needed to calm down, and that it would make me feel better. But it didn’t…every time they did it, I’d feel sick and things would go hazy. Sometimes I’d be aware of them moving me around like a rag doll, but sometimes I’d be asleep, feeling that I was trapped somewhere. It got to the point that I didn’t always see the needle. That lady with the dark hair came to talk to me, and suddenly I was asleep and when I woke up she was gone. I’m not crazy!

He clenched his teeth thinking, “Damn, that ‘charming‘ family! All they had to do was watch over Belle for a few days. Did they even try to protect her?”

Pushing down his rage, concerned that he might frighten her, “I know you’re not crazy. What you saw was real. It was magic. They shouldn’t have told you otherwise, because they knew you were telling the truth.”

Upset, Belle asks, “But why would they lie to me? Ruby said she was my friend. Friends don’t do that! Do they?”

It breaks his heart to see the fragility in Belle’s eyes. He says, “Yes, Ruby is your friend, but no, she should not have lied to you. However, I think I know why she did. Remember a man was injured in a car accident?”

“Greg.”, she interjects.

Wondering how Belle learned the outsider’s name, he explains, “He’s not from Storybrooke. He doesn’t know about magic, and people, like Ruby, are afraid of what will happen if he learns about magic.”

Belle pales, “But…but I talked to him. He was the only one who believed me. Oh God, did I get you in trouble?!”

“Don’t worry sweetheart. I can handle it.”

Not entirely convinced, but not having enough information to argue otherwise, she instead hesitantly asks, “So…um, magic comes out of your hands.”

He nods, “Sometimes. Magic can also come from potions I create, wands, other magical items or elements like water.” Belle’s brow furrows as she tries to process the information.

Raising his eyebrows questioningly and giving her a soft smile, he asks, “Can you trust me enough to show you something?”

Hesitantly, she asks, “Uh, I don’t know. What is it?”

In a warm soothing tone, he coaxes, “Please darling. I want to show you something beautiful. I promise it won’t hurt. Hold out your hand.” Nervously, she does as requested. He cups his hand over her hand and says, “Hold very still.”, a purple glow radiates from his hand, and she feels a peculiar tickling sensation in her palm.

He lifts his hand to reveal a one-of-a-kind blue and black Monarch Butterfly, and Belle gasps as her eyes become wide with wonder. “Is it real?”

He smiles at her childlike awe, saying, “As real as you and me. This type of butterfly is typically orange and black. However, I made it blue and black, because I wanted it to be as unique as you.” He opts not to tell her that it is also because blue is Belle’s favorite color.

As she giggles and marvels at the butterfly, clearly doing her best to hold still and not frighten it, Rumplestiltskin continues, “In this realm, there is a belief that something as small as a butterfly flapping its wings can impact weather patterns a half a world away. They call it the ‘Butterfly Effect’. Belle, you have always been my Butterfly Effect. You effect me in ways no one else can. You help me be a better man.”

Pulling her gaze away from the fragile life fluttering in her hand, she looks at Rumplestiltskin with appreciation, and says, “Though I can’t remember anything before waking up on the road. I feel certain that has to be the nicest thing anybody has ever said to me.”

Emma Swan walks through the hospital corridor to check on Greg in hopes of hurrying his departure from Storybrooke, when her attention is sidetracked to a commotion in room 212. She recalls that being Belle’s room, being sure she has her gun at the ready if needed, she enters the melee.

Upon entering, she witnesses Moe French with his hands clenching the lapels of Dr. Whale’s lab coat, yelling, “Where is she?!” As Emma pulls Moe off of Dr. Whale, Moe suddenly notices her and yells, “What the Hell are you doing here?! You were suppose to be out of town with Gold!”

Irritably, she responds, “Hey, calm down! I was out of town, but we just got back a little while ago.”

Moe growls, “He took her! That beast, Gold, took Belle!”

Processing the information that apparently amnesiac, Belle, has gone missing, Emma says, “Yeah, um, I don’t think so. I dropped him off near his house about an hour ago. How long has she been gone?”

Dr. Whale and Nurse Agnes look at each other questioningly, and Whale says, “Two, maybe three hours.”

Emma’s eyes widen, “That long! Was anybody notified to keep an eye out for her?”

Dr. Whale shakes his head, “We were trying to handle it internally.”

Sarcastically, Emma says, “Great! What could possibility go wrong with an amnesia patient wondering around town in the middle of Winter?”

Moe chimes in disgruntled, “I know where she is. Somehow that bastard, Gold, got her. She wouldn’t go willingly. I heard she’s afraid of him. He must have kidnapped her. I’m going to his house to get her back.

Emma grabs his arm forcefully, “Not without me, you’re not! I just walked in on you trying to assault Dr. Whale. You’re lucky I don’t take you to the station.”

Meanwhile at Gold’s house, he and Belle decide to release the butterfly near some milkweed growing in the greenhouse. Back in the sitting room, talking on the couch, Belle questions, “Earlier, you talked about this ‘realm’…what did you mean by that?”

Cautiously, Rumplestiltskin answers, “Well sweetheart, we’re not from here. Magic brought us here.”

Frowning, Belle asks, “What does that mean for our baby? Will it be magical? Will people in this ‘realm’ try to hurt our baby?

He finds himself struck by the awareness, that in the mere hours that Belle has known about he pregnancy, even with amnesia, she thinks more like a mother than the seven years Milah spent with Baelfire. Trying to reassure her yet be honest, he says, “Darling, there are a lot of things up in the air right now. Our baby could be magical, not just because I am, but because our child was conceived in true love. True love is the most powerful magic of all. But there is danger. There are people who don’t like me…well, to be honest, they hate me and getting at me through our child or you would be tempting. But I will do whatever I have to do to keep you and our child safe.”

Pensively, she asks, “Do we have family that would help protect our child? The nurse mentioned my father…what about him? Would he help?”

Shifting uncomfortably, Rumplestiltskin responds, “No, he’s one of the people that hates me. He doesn’t want you anywhere near me.”

Uneasily, she asks, “Why? Did you hurt me?”

He is torn between his need not to lose Belle and his duty to be the one person that is truthful with her, with his eyes downcast, he says, “In some ways, yes. Our story is a complicated one. In our land, I was very powerful and often not kind. There was a war. Your village was under attack, and your father summoned me to help. My price for that help was you…you living with me forever. You’re father refused, but you agreed, and the deal was struck.”

Processing his words uneasily, she asks, “You ‘took‘ me?”

Adamantly, he says, “No. I would never bed a woman against her will. No, you were supposed to cook and clean and so forth. I didn’t expect you to get under my skin like you did. You saw good in me. You were relentless…always prodding me. I found myself opening up to you…falling in love with you. I decided to let you go…but you came back. I couldn’t believe that you really loved me. We had a horrible fight, cruel things were done and said, and I sent you away. The dark haired woman, who you mentioned, is the Evil Queen Regina. Regina came to me and told me that when you went home your father had you ‘cleansed’ by clerics for your association with me. She said that they tortured you, and when it became too much for you to bear, you killed yourself. …and like a damn fool, I believed her. Regina held you prisoner, but I thought you were dead, because of your father…and because of me sending you away. One night, after we came to this realm, I snapped. I beat your father so severely that he ended up in the hospital. It wasn’t ’til months later that I discovered the truth, when you came walking through my shop door.”

Dumbstruck, Belle tries to organize her thoughts. Mr. Gold is indeed a dangerous man…which she reasons should not surprise her, since her first memory of him was with a fireball in his hand. Yet he was truthful even when it made him look bad. He is the only one who has been truthful. She feels that she should give the father of her child credit for that.

After several moments, she says, “Mr. Gold?”

“Yes, dear?”

Looking at him intently, she queries, “What’s your name? I mean I hope I didn’t call you Mr. Gold all this time. After all, we did stuff together, and now we’re having a baby. It would be weird if I called you Mr. Gold during, you know, private moments.”

He smiles at the implication, “My name is Rumplestiltskin. Most times you called me Rumple. You could also call me Rum if you would prefer that.”

She tests out the name, “Rumple…Rum…I’ll have to think about that.”

He says, “As you wish, darling.”

He watches a shift in her expression. He can practically see the wheels of worry turning, thus he asks, “What’s wrong?”

Taking a sip of her tea and pondering as she swallows the warm sweet liquid, “I’m just thinking about my father…or rather what you said about my father. He was coming to the hospital to see me. Are he and I close?”

Rubbing his hand over his stubbled chin, he says, “You haven’t seen each other in months. A few months ago, your father had you kidnapped. When you told him that you loved me, he had a man take you into the mines, cuff you to a mine cart and sending it careening towards the town line. He wanted you to lose your memory. I was able to magically stop the cart before you crossed over. You told him that you never wanted to see him again.”

Hesitantly, he adds, “You also said that you never wanted to see me again either.”

Touching her abdomen, she says, “I’m not that far along, am I? Why didn’t I want to see you?”

Sheepishly, he says, “I haven’t always been good about telling you things…things that are hard for me to talk about…things that you should know nonetheless. You were fed up with me shutting you out. So you moved out. I decided there were things I should tell you even if you didn’t want to see me any more. In the process, we slowly started to work things out. We had gotten quite close over the holidays, when our baby was conceived.”

Taking in his words, she says, “You know, you didn’t have to tell me about my saying that I didn’t want to see you. I wouldn’t have known the difference.”

He shrugs, “I figure you’ve been deceived enough.”

With smiling eyes, she says, “Thank you. That means a lot.” Her face takes a serious expression as she asks, “If my father would go to such lengths to keep me from you, what will he do if he finds out about our baby?”

In a low serious tone, he says, “I told you that I will do whatever I have must to protect you and our child. That said, when it comes to your father, it could involve things you wouldn’t like. The problem is in the eyes of the law of this realm, he has dominion over you, since we are not married and don’t even have a Power of Attorney.”

“What’s that?”

He explains, “It’s similar to a contract. You could have made me your Power of Attorney to handle things like medical decisions if you where incapacitated. As it stands, your father could have you legally declared incompetent, and from a legal stand point, you and our baby inside you would be at his mercy. If that happened, I’d have to do whatever necessary to protect you and our baby, legal or not, and there’d be the possibility of blood shed.”

A shiver runs through her at the thought of the father of her child and her own father as bloody combatants. Trying to be rational, she asks, “But that Power of Attorney would have kept him from coming after me?”

Ponderously, he says, “Not necessarily keep him from coming after you. After all, kidnapping you is illegal and he did that. However, it would mean that others would not help him in the endeavor and would be more likely to help me keep you safe.”

She asks, “How about we do that Power of Attorney thing now?”

He responds, “Sadly, that’s not how it works. We have to do it with a witness to verify that you know who you are, and the importance of what your doing?”

Rumplestiltskin and Belle are startled out of their thoughts, by a banging on the door. Peering through the window, he says, “It’s Sheriff Emma Swan and your father.” A look of panic consumes Belle as she protectively presses her hand to her abdomen. He reassures her, “Don’t worry, I’ll keep you safe.” and then looking pointedly at her hand, he says, “But you probably shouldn’t do that. We don’t want to tip our hand.” Belle immediately moves her hand to her lap.

As he goes to answer the door, Belle’s mind scrambles for a way to protect their child. She does not want to return to the hospital. She had no control there. She wonders, What will they do to me, now that they know I’m pregnant?” She thinks of all those shots whenever she mentioned magic. It got to the point that she pretended not remembering the magic, in order to avoid the shots. Her mind latches on to an idea and the hope that she has enough bravery to make it work.

Opening the door commandingly, Rumplestiltskin says, “Why Sheriff Swan and Mr. French, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

Moe points at Belle and yells to Emma, “See I told you, Gold took her!”

Belle smiles sweetly at Emma, “Hi Emma, it’s good to see you. What’s my father going on about?”

Rumplestiltskin tries to appear unfazed by Belle’s interaction with Emma and her father.

Emma says, “Did Gold or anyone who works for Gold take you from the hospital?”

Belle readily and truthfully answers, “No, I was here waiting for him, when he came home from his trip.”

Trying to calm his temper, Moe coaxes, “Belle, dear girl, you don’t have to lie for him, no matter what threats he’s made, we’ll protect you.”

It disturbs Belle that her father assumes Rumplestiltskin is threatening her. She responds adamantly, “It’s the truth! And he certainly didn’t threaten me!”

Moe’s agitation rises, “Why would you come here? You’re suppose to be afraid of him!”

Belle responds, “Well, I’m not! I remembered a few hours ago and was desperate to see Rumple.” Belle’s speech pattern had just the barest hint of hesitation before saying “Rumple” and she notices Emma watching her skeptically. Thus, she makes a course correction, stepping over to Rumplestiltskin, embracing him, and saying, “We’ve lost enough time together, because of people trying to keep us apart. I didn’t want to wait one more minute.” Rumplestiltskin snuggles protectively close to Belle, helping to create the image of the happy couple. Belle notices how right it feels to be held by Rumplestiltskin.

Red faced, Moe stares in disbelief. Looking to her side, Emma spies Belle’s hospital lab results. Emma shoots a look at Belle, who realizes Emma’s discovery, causing her to swallow hard. Belle quickly recovers and goes on the offense, “Father, I seem to recall that I said I never wanted to see you again. But since you can’t manage to respect my wishes, I suppose now is as good a time as any for an apology for what you’ve done.”

While Moe is distracted, Emma hides the lab results under a couch cushion. Belle’s request for an apology has a duel purpose: First to serve as a distraction, which worked famously; second to verify what Rumplestiltskin has told her about her father. In terms of the latter, Belle is torn as to what she wants to hear. On the one hand, she wants to believe the father of her child has been truthful with her, yet on the other hand, she wants to know that her own father would not do something so despicable to her nor be a threat to her child.

Moe starts cautiously, “Belle, darling girl, I only care about what’s best for you. I’m sorry that circumstances required such drastic measures, but you wouldn’t see reason.”

Belle retorts, “And that makes it right?”

Trying to placate his daughter, Moe says, “Look, Belle, now that you’ve been through losing your memory and gotten it back, can’t you see that what I did was not that terrible?”

Thinking about all her fear and confusion, since losing her memory, feeling like her mind has been stripped from her, she yells, “No! Just because you don’t like who I love, doesn’t mean you can rip away my mind!”

Moe retorts, “You foolish girl, if your mind was working right in the first place, you wouldn’t be carrying on with this monster!”

She feels Rumplestiltskin tense behind her, and she reaches for his hand and strokes it. Belle says defiantly, “Carrying on? Will you be more approving when we are married with a house full of children?”

With a bright red face, Moe hisses, “Better a child not be born than be fathered by him!”

Getting the answer that she needed, Belle hisses back, “Get out!”

Quickly, Rumplestiltskin says, “Not so fast. Belle, sweetheart, regarding that bit of paperwork that we discussed earlier, it occurs to me that we now have a witness. What to you think?”

Belle looks at him, as he awaits her answer. Trying to push down her anger at her father, she forces a more pleasant tone, “Yes, now’s a good time. Oh wait! In the accident, I hurt my writing hand, so my signature might be different.”

Following Belle’s lead, Rumplestiltskin replies, “That should be quite alright. Our witness knows who you are. Isn’t that correct, Sheriff Swan?”

Emma’s mind tries to keep up with the fluid circumstances. She is quite sure that Belle does not have her memory back, yet based on Moe’s outburst, she knows that Moe cannot be trusted with Belle’s safety now that she is pregnant. She observes the pleading of Belle’s eyes and recalls what it was like to be pregnant and scared. Emma thinks to herself, “At least the father of Belle’s child is here for her. I’ll be damned if I take that away.”

Grumpily, Emma says, “Yes, right. Belle, you’re you…so what kind of paperwork are we talking about?”

Rumplestiltskin says, with a flourish of his hand, “A Power of Attorney.”

Moe bellows, “What?! No!”

Rumplestiltskin flutters his hand around a bit in Belle’s line of sight and stares into her eyes. Realizing that he is signaling her to behave normally when magic comes, Belle braces herself. Then with a striking flourish of his hand, purple smoke and papers appear. He smiles approvingly at her ability to remain composed.

Moe bellows, “Belle, you can’t give him this power over you!”

Before Belle can respond, Rumplestiltskin says, “Actually, we both will give each other power to make decisions. Belle will be my Power of Attorney as well.” Belle looks at him appreciatively, trying to hide her surprise. He continues, “Belle, I love you, and I trust you with my life.”

It all seems quite wonderfully insane to Belle. He is making her his Power of Attorney; her, an amnesia patient, who only remembers the last few days and screamed the one time he kissed her. Rumplestiltskin continues to amaze her. Though she knows he can probably heal himself if the need arises, it is still the sentiment that touches her. Belle says, “I trust you too, Rumple.” and stands on her tiptoes, kissing him on the cheek.

Moe rushes forward, Rumplestiltskin pulls Belle protectively to him and Emma grabs her gun and yells, “Mr. French, Go wait for me in the squad car now!” Looking as though he might ignore her orders, Emma adds, “Or I will cuff you!” Moe storms out of the house.

Emma says with a sigh, “Okay, let’s get this show on the road. Sign those papers so I can drop him off.”

Rumplestiltskin says, “I’ll go first.”

While he is signing the document, making Belle his Power of Attorney, Emma says, “You might want to find a safer place to keep those lab results. You can’t really hide this forever, but I assume there’s certain people that you don’t want to know right away.”

As Belle carefully signs her name, ‘B…e…l…l…e…F…r…e…n…c…h’, Rumplestiltskin says, “Your discretion is appreciated, Emma.”

Before leaving, Emma says to Rumplestiltskin, “We’ll talk about things later.”

Belle looks curiously between Rumplestiltskin and Emma, and then says, “Thank you, Emma.”

After Emma leaves, Belle turns to Rumplestiltskin and says, “So that was my father…he was unpleasant.”

Rumplestiltskin takes her hand leading her back to the couch, saying “It’ll be alright.”

Thinking back to Emma, Belle feels a strange twinge of emotion, “So Emma’s pretty, did you and she?”

Adamantly, he says, “No, we just have a family connection.”

Belle does not understand why, but she is pleased by his response, and then she asks, “How are you related?”

He smirks, “It’s complicated, but I just found out she’s the mother of my grandson.”

Surprised, she asks, “How old is your grandson?”


Her brow furrows, “And you just found out?”

Pensively, he says, “Yes, and I have some things to sort through.”

With an twinge of sadness, Belle says, “And you want to talk to her.”

Confused he asks, “Emma?”

Sullenly she replies, “No, the real Belle. You need her, but you’re stuck with me.”

Though he wishes she had her memories of their life together and her insights from those memories, he feels that she is Belle. She has not become another person, indeed just in the time she has been here, he has seen many of Belle’s qualities displayed in her personality, despite her lack of memories. In a nurturing tone, he says, “I don’t see it that way, sweetheart. I’m honored to have you in my life, no matter what.”

Belle blushes and ponders the meaning of what all that has happened. Hopefully, she asks, “Is my mother in this realm?”

Rumplestiltskin strokes her hand and says, “I’m sorry, but your mother, Rosemary, died when you were a wee one.” It pains him to see her at a loss.

Belle says dejectedly, “I guess I can’t really be sad, because I didn’t know her, but I guess now, you know…with a baby coming, I just wish I had her to talk to. Even if I wouldn’t have remembered her, it would have been nice to just have her. Does that sound silly?”

Giving her a sad smile, he says, “No, love, it makes sense that you feel that way. But I promise to be with you every step of the way, and I’ll help you any way I can…even if you just need someone to yell at or a shoulder to cry on when you’re having mood swings.”

With that the weight of the day presses down on Belle, and she says, “I think I could use that shoulder right now.” He wraps his arms around her, and she begins to cry softly.

Author’s Note: Please leave a comment/review of this chapter. I love to read your thoughts on my stories. By the way, if anybody has suggestions for cravings Belle should have, let me know. I never had cravings, rather I had aversions to certain foods, so I could use some help in the cravings department.

Last night, I posted the first chapter what was my first ever fic, “Metamorphosis Through Love”, if you would like to check that out. Also, though “We Are All…Reunion of Twin Souls”, will be coming to an end soon, I will be writing a sequel, “Journey of Twin Souls”.

I’m happy and honored to announce that June 25th my story “Not Just A Cup” won Best One-Shot Fan Fiction in the Once Upon A Fan Awards 2013. I took a gamble submitting a story in which a character of my own creation, RumBelle’s daughter Clarice, is a focal point, but people responded quite well. Thank you to everyone for your support! Thank you, my darling husband Frank, for encouraging me, helping me brainstorm, proofing and suggesting the B.C. Rich Warlock electric guitar for Clarice and having her have a poster of Nikola Tesla himself (not just his coils)! Thank you, Elisa for proofing help! Thank you, Terri, for being designated cheerleader to encourage my writing! In the Once Upon A Fan Awards for the show itself, Robert Carlyle (tweet at robertcarlyle_) won Best Actor, and Lana Parrilla (tweet at LanaParrilla) won Best Actress. Our lady Belle, Emilie de Ravin (tweet at emiliederavin) won 2nd place, followed by Jennifer Morrison 3rd, Ginnifer Goodwin 4th and Meghan Ory 5th. Given the minimal amount of on air time that Emilie de Ravin had in season 2, her 2nd place showing is quite impressive. If you would like to point this out to Adam, Eddy and Jane and hint that fans want more Emilie air time in season 3, than we got in season 2, here are their Twitter addresses: Adam (tweet at AdamHorowitzLA), Edward Kitsis (tweet at jollychan4) and Jane (tweet at JaneEspenson).

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