Belle meets Baelfire, just like literally everyone prompted.
Chapter One
Gold hadn't expected a text from Belle that week. He wasn't quite sure why he'd given his divorce attorney his personal number. He told himself because it was quite easier to keep up with but it was much more likely because Belle French was...Well he didn't know what she was and calling her magic was simply juvenile.
“Does Baelfire like books?”
The question was still sitting happily in his inbox, perfectly content. Of course she'd ask about books. Her office was practically a library.
“Yes. He enjoys reading.” Was his response after an hour and 17 minutes. After all, he couldn't appear as if he only had his phone for entertainment and contact to the outside world on weeks he didn't have his son.
Her response was immediate. “Books and swans. Perfect! I have a great gift for him then. See you both Saturday!”
Gold frowned. Books and swans, she’d said. He wondered if he should tell her that his son had more than one copy of “The Ugly Duckling.” He wasn't even sure if his son enjoyed the story anymore. He was about to text back and tell her not to bother with something so trivial. Was it even appropriate for his custody attorney to be getting his son a gift? In the end, though, he only sent back a thank you. Whether it was from lack of courage for fear of angering the woman who controlled the outcome of this ordeal, or from sheer trust of Belle he didn't know.
He liked to believe it was the former.
“Who are we going to see?” Baelfire asked as Gold helped him out of the car. He re-adjusted the sling his arm was in. The doctor didn't say he explicitly needed it, but Gold felt a lot better about him having it when they went out.
“Our custody attorney.” Gold said, opening the door of the building for his son and leading him to the elevator. “Her name is Belle French.”
“Why can't Midas do it?”
His son’s tone was rather bitter, and ahold wondered if Belle’s belief in Bae meeting her had some merit. The elevator came and Gold let his son press the button to Belle’s floor.
“Midas doesn't specialize in this.” Gold explained. “But he recommended Belle.”
“And she's gonna make it so I can live with you?”
“She’ll do her best.”
Baelfire seemed to accept this, fiddling with his sling as the elevator brought them up to Belle’s floor. Gold tried to ignore the knot tangling in his stomach as the elevator doors opened. For whatever reason, it seemed important that Baelfire like Belle. It was ridiculous, of course. Once this was all over they’d never see each other again. The sentiment was almost as ridiculous as the way his stomach dropped when Belle’s office door opened and the same broad-shouldered man from the picture on her desk walked out, Belle following easily
“Thank you so much for helping bring that up, Gaston.”
“Anytime, Bluebell.” The man smiled broadly. “You’re gonna end up making that office into an apartment one of these days. All that’s missing is a cot and a microwave.”
“Oh your office is the same way.”
The other man chuckled, and Gold frowned. Belle’s smile was wide but not as bright as it had been when he'd visited. Perhaps something was wrong? That was disconcerting for a number of reasons. However, his fears soon disappeared when he cleared his throat and Belle turned to him, her eyes lighting up the entire room.
“Mr. Gold. Hello again!”
“I'll get out of your hair.” The other man said immediately, and Gold couldn't help the confident smirk that crossed his face. “See you tomorrow, Bluebell.”
“See you Gaston.” Belle said easily, waving the other man off before stepping out of her office to hold the door open for them. “How was your drive in, Mr. Gold?”
“It was fine.” Gold said, his tone perhaps too harsh. “Belle, this is my son, Baelfire.”
Belle gave a gentle smile. Kneeling down so that she was on eye-level with his son, she held out her hand so that Baelfire could shake it with his good hand.
“It's nice to meet you, Baelfire. I'm Belle French, your custody attorney.”
The boy frowned. “You're papa’s custody attorney.”
“Not when the custody concerns you.” Belle said, seemingly unaffected by his son’s skeptical eyes. After a moment of internal debate, however, he shook her hand, and Belle beamed. “We'll step right into my office, you two. Sit wherever you like. Can I get you anything? Coffee? Tea? Juice box?”
Gold wrinkled his nose. “You have juice boxes in your office?”
“Only when I have a case.” Belle said. “Gaston wasn't kidding when he said the office is practically like an apartment sometimes.”
Gold’s mouth quirked slightly. He knew all about practically living in one’s office. As they stepped in he saw things had indeed been changed. The front area for her secretary had been moved around, giving the desk room on one side and making way for a makeshift reading nook with bookshelves and a settee on the other. Belle’s side also sported a settee by a bookshelf but also a mini fridge in the back corner as well as a coffee maker and hot plate that seemed to have a tea kettle on it. The other man had been right. With a cot and a microwave it would have indeed been an appartment.
“Do you have CapriSun?”
His son’s question snapped Gold out of his trance, and Belle gave a smile before producing one from the fridge.
“Have a seat.” She told them. “Can I get you anything Mr. Gold? Coffee? Tea? I just made some Camomile.”
“Tea would be lovely.”
Belle gave a nod, seeming to busy herself with retrieving the tea as his son determinedly stuck the straw into his juice box using only one hand. A comfortable silence fell over them, interrupted only by Baelfire’s slurping and the pouring of tea. It was odd. Normally if a silence feel in an attorney’s office he’d be worried. Anxious that something had gone wrong. However, as Belle finished preparing the tea and came to sit at her desk with their cups, he was anxious for a completely different reason.
“Are you and papa gonna talk boring legal stuff?” Baelfire asked, his nose wrinkling.
Gold opened his mouth to reprimand his son and remind him of his manners, but Belle cut him off with a laugh. She sat a teacup before him, and the warmth of the ceramic calmed him if only a little.
“Not today.” Belle said. “Today’s more about you. What do you know about these cases?”
Baelfire only blinked at her, and Gold looked to his son helplessly. He hadn't talked about how court cases went with his son. He and Midas knew the ins and outs so thoroughly it was rarely an issue. Baelfire had never shown any interest in his work. Not only that, but Belle didn't seem to be shying away from sharing the details with his son, leveling with him in a way even he never had. He wasn't sure how he felt about that. Gold had spent quite a bit of time shielding his son from the cruelties of the world. He didn't need to be reminded of them now especially.
“Not much.” Baelfire said eventually. “Just that you're gonna make it so I can live with papa.”
“I'll do my best.” Belle said, echoing what Gold had told him moments before. “I mainly don't want you to be surprised by anything. This might get a bit hard for everyone, and the more you know about how things work the better.”
Baelfire nodded, and Gold was immensely impressed by how easily Belle seemed to explain things to him. Not only the things abnormal attorney would know such as how the case and hearings would go and what the judge would take into account, but also what the two of them could expect throughout the case when it came to stress and the like. Her voice never wavered from the kind, almost tender tone she’d originally had when she mentioned to him how the case would be hard for Baelfire. His son listened intently, nodding when need be. His eyes were intense and focused, but his posture was easy and relaxed as he sipped away on his Capri-Sun, and once again Gold was astounded with just how reassuring Belle could be. It helped that her knowledge of the custody case was so thorough, no doubt. Almost...intimate.
“Oh!” She exclaimed, clapping her hands once she was done with her explanation. “I almost forgot.”
Gold blinked over his now empty teacup as Belle leaned to a far drawer of her desk and pulled out a book. He leaned closer, trying to get a good look at it, but she handed it to his son before he could.
“This is for you.”
Baelfire looked at the book skeptically, then set down his empty juice packet to inspect it.
“The Trumpet of the Swan?” Baelfire flipped through the pages. “I've never heard of it.”
“Your dad mentioned you liked swans.” Belle said, her voice uneven for the first time since Gold had met her.
“They're my favorite.” Baelfire admitted sheepishly.
Belle beamed. “Well this story was one of my favorites growing up. My business card is in there marking my favorite spot. If you need me you can call the number written on it.” Her gaze turned to Gold, and his grip on his teacup wavered. “Both of you.”
Baelfire nodded, and Belle picked up her cup of tea. It had gone cold during her explanation of the custody case, but she didn't seem to mind.
“Well…” she said. “That's all I had planned for today. Do you two have any questions for me?” Baelfire shook his head. “Do you want another juice box or more tea?”
“Can I have another?”
Belle gave his son a smile and rose to get his son another Capri-Sun. “And you, Mr. Gold?”
“I…” He hesitated. He should get home. It wasn't a school night but it was the beginning of his weekend with Baelfire and he hated to miss any time he got with his son. And yet, as Belle tilted her head at him and he was once again pinned with her brilliant blue eyes he found he didn't want to leave. “One more cup would be lovely.”
She smiled, coming over to put him another cup as she refreshed her own. She asked him about his job and they talked for a while about antiques and antique books and the town of Storybrooke. The passion she had for books was astounding, and it was a wonder she'd gone into the attorney profession at all with the way she talked about libraries. He wasn't sure how long they'd simply talked, but his tea was running out and Baelfire had already made it through a chapter of his book.
After a while she asked Baelfire about his cast and before he knew it she was signing it with a golden sharpie.
“Belle, are you married?”
Gold opened his mouth, but the scolding he had for his son about remembering manners died on his tongue with Belle’s musical giggle.
“No I'm not.” She answered easily, finishing off her tea. “I'm not in a relationship of any kind, really. Unless it's with my job.”
“Would you wanna be?”
Belle seemed to consider this. “I wouldn't mind being married and part of a family if that's what you mean. Why the sudden personal question?”
“You had juice boxes and a book for me and tea.” Baelfire shrugged, glancing to his father before turning back to her. “With the way you talked you just seemed like you'd make a better wife for Papa than mom.”
The sound of porcelain hitting the hardwood floor of Belle’s office echoed through the room, and Gold’s face paled as quickly as it had flushed. It took him a moment to realize his cup had fallen.
“I'm sorry.” He stuttered, leaning down to retrieve the cup, swallowing when he realized what had happened. Not only had he spilled the remainder of his tea under her desk, but her cup was ruined. “It's chipped…”
“It's only a cup.” Belle said.
“It seemed old…”
“Look.” Belle said, taking it from his hand, her fingers brushing his ever so slightly. “You can hardly see it. No harm done.”
“Y-yes.” He cleared his throat. “Of course.”
Belle seemed to try and hold back a laugh, bringing her bottom lip between her teeth. After a moment she blinked, remembering herself, then she leaned towards Baelfire.
“Why don't we let your papa worry about the custody case first. Then finding a wife.”
She gave his son a wink, and Baelfire beamed. His son, it seemed, was as taken with their attorney as he was. Gold could only hope that was a good omen.
(( Based on this post made like a year ago in which @emospritelet commented on her property law tutor and @tinuviel-undomiel gave me a plot bunny. I blame all of you for this. This ‘verse is open for prompts so yeah! Feel free to send them in if you like it! ))
Favors had been called in. Strings had been pulled. Phones had been yelled and cursed into. Now, Gold was sitting outside the doors of B. French, the most renown custody attorney on the east coast. Gold only hoped that given the right amount of money, he could help. Or rather, she could help.
His son had a broken arm.
Everything in Jeffrey Gold’s life had stopped the moment he got the call from the school and was now pinpointed on the simple fact that his son had a broken arm. And that it was all his mother’s fault. Milah would be lucky that he didn’t kill her for this.
He didn't care that he had to drive to New York. He didn't care that he had to pay medical bills. But he did care that all the while Milah was nowhere to be found, not even showing up until that night when it was time for Bae to go home from the ER. He should have done something about it then. Something more than barking a warning to his ex-wife about lawyers and walking off.
Really, he should have done something about it months ago, when Bae started dragging out their every-other-weekend visits until the very last moments. The least he could do was fight for his boy, which is exactly what he planned to do when he called Dove. Favors had been called in. Strings had been pulled. Phones had been yelled and cursed into. Now, he was sitting outside the doors of B. French, the most renown custody attorney on the east coast. Gold only hoped that given the right amount of money, he could help.
The door to his office opened, and a brunette with the most brilliant blue eyes smiled at him. “Jeffrey Gold?”
“Yes.” He said, almost falling over as he leapt up.
She only smiled. “Come in.”
Gold thought it a bit odd for the secretary to be waving him into the attorney’s office, but he supposed it wasn’t too unheard of. The office itself was divided in two, a space for a small desk that must be hers with what he assumed to be a much larger part in the back. The brunette led him straight back into the larger space easily. Both offices were warm and welcoming, painted with warm neutral colors that immediately put him at ease. The walls themselves were neatly decorated with various certificates as well as the occasional pictures of happy families. In both spaces there were at least two bookcases overflowing with books that Gold assumed had to be about law but couldn’t tell. The back area was worse than the front in terms of books, but everything obviously had a place. On a mahogany desk there was a gold plaque that read “B. French.” Beside it was a picture of the same brunette with another man, taller and broader than she, smiling happily at the camera.
Was she his wife and secretary perhaps? That wasn’t too uncommon. Lucky man.
“So Mr. Gold shall we get started?” The brunette asked, sitting at the desk as if she’d done so a million times before.
For a moment he gaped at her. “With you?”
“Belle French.” She said with a bright smile, extending a hand to him. “It’s nice to meet you.”
He blinked, but nodded, shaking her hand. “Jeffrey Gold. It’s nice to meet you Mrs. French.”
“Miss, actually.” She said, giving him another dazzling smile. How did she make it look so sincere? “Now, let’s discuss your son. You and your ex wife are sharing custody yes? You get him every other weekend?”
“Yes.” Gold said. “And Christmas.”
Belle nodded, jotting down a few notes in the file.. He knew how this went. The attorney spoke to their client, outlined the idea, discussed the plan. He couldn’t help feeling that something about the way she operated was much different than his methods, though. Every now and then she’d ask him about something completely unrelated. How old his son was made sense, but why on earth had she needed to know his favorite animal?
“Swans.” Gold answered after a moment. “I always find him doodling them in his notes.”
Belle hummed, writing and circling something. Was that really so important?
“I’d like to meet Baelfire, if possible.” Gold remained silent, but she continued, her voice gentle and sympathetic. “I understand if you’re a bit hesitant. But he’s young and custody battles can be quite hard on--”
“I’m aware, Miss French.”
If Gold’s tone was too harsh, Belle didn’t show any signs that it bothered her. “It would help if he at least knew me.” She explained. “I apologize if my methods seem a bit unorthodox to you, Mr. Gold, but I assure you, there’s a reason I haven’t lost a case yet. You’ll have to put some trust in me.”
And that was the hard part, it seemed. Gold trusted no one with his son, not even his own mother. It wasn’t as if B. French was going to be interacting that long with them, but he supposed she did have a point. If it made it easier on Bae, then his boy would simply have to meet their new attorney.
“Very well.” Gold said.
Belle smiled, scribbling something quickly. “Perhaps next meeting? I’ll need to get everything in order. Find out our plan of attack. We’ll have to convince the judge that you’re a better guardian. But I don’t foresee that being too much of a problem given the circumstances. I’m sure you’re aware of how it all typically works.”
Gold shrugged. “I know the basics. Custody cases are not my specialty.”
“Well, lucky for you, Mr. Gold, they are mine.” She gave him another brilliant smile. Had her office gotten brighter? “Now, when next would be best convenient for you?”
The appointment was made for the next weekend, and Gold was grateful that she’d gone out of her way to meet he and his son out of business hours. She didn’t seem too upset about it at all. He stood from the chair across from her desk feeling oddly at-ease. The bundle of nerves that had been squirming in his chest from the moment he’d called and left a message with her secretary about an appointment had disappeared. Somehow, effortlessly, she’d completely put him at-ease with a few smiles and her amazing accent over gentle words.
Perhaps she was magic.
“Everything is in order, Mr. Gold.” She said as she walked him out of her office. “Are you ready for all of this?”
“I’m ready to have my son home and safe.” Gold said.
Belle’s lips quirked up in a smile. “Well you can relax and leave it to me for a bit. I don’t imagine we’ll be hearing from you ex-wife’s attorney for a little while yet.”
“Why is that?”
“Because she called and left a message as well.” Gold’s eyes widened. “And I saw you today instead.”
Gold groaned internally, remembering the choice words he’d had for her secretary when the appointment hadn’t been soon enough to his liking. Or had it been she herself that he’d spoken to? Really, it wouldn’t surprise him if it had been.
“I’ll have to send an apology basket to your secretary.” Gold said. “I didn’t show her my best colors.”
“You were stressed and worried about your son. Speaking of, you’ll have to tell me what he prefers in a gift basket. A broken arm can’t be very fun for a boy his age.”
“He’s adoring the attention.” Gold said, unable to help the smile on his lips that formed whenever his son came up in conversation. “All he could talk about when he called was collecting signatures.”
Belle smiled, practically beaming. “I’m glad to hear he’s doing well. I look forward to meeting him next week.”
Gold nodded, turning to leave. However, something made him pause and turn back to her. She only tilted her head, and he was struck again by how brilliantly blue her eyes were.
“Why did you choose to see me?”
“What do you mean?”
“Wouldn’t most lawyers, especially...women, take the mother’s side?”
“I’m not most lawyers, Mr. Gold.”
“But you are a woman.”
“I’m not most women.”
“As I’m learning. Humor me, perhaps.”
Belle seemed to search him for a moment, and suddenly it felt as if he was the one opposing her. Truly, he felt sorry for any judge or jury that had to face her down. After what seemed to be a moment of fighting with herself, her shoulders relaxed.
“You seemed different.”
“I seemed different. As I cursed at your secretary.”
Belle shrugged. “My father always said that you can’t know a person until you know what’s in their heart. People are layered. I imagine any man willing to fight so hard for his child has to be different than how he appears.”
“And what if I’m not?” Gold frowned. He knew his reputation. Knowing his ex-wife, it was only a matter of time before Belle found out as well. Somehow, he didn’t like that idea. “What if I’m as terrible and dark as I seem?”
Belle only grinned. “You’re not.” She turned away, retreating back into her office. “See you next week, Mr. Gold. Don’t be late.”
Gold only blinked as the door to her office shut, and he was left staring at the door. He ignored the way his pulse had picked up and his palms became sweaty. This was absolutely ridiculous, and he was certain that he should find a new lawyer immediately, one whose blue eyes weren’t so brilliant and whose smiles weren’t so sweet. However, he knew that would never happen, and he also knew that it would be absolutely impossible for him to be late next week. Custody case or not, he very much wanted to see B. French again.
