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“It’s okay, Grandpa,” Henry said soothingly, though he couldn’t quite hide a wince at the ignominious death of yet another character on the screen. “You’ve improved a lot since the last time we played!”
Rumpelstiltskin raised an eyebrow at the boy. It was a pity that he had taken so much after his maternal grandparents. Henry just couldn’t lie convincingly unless the matter was life-or-death to him, and even then his first instinct was to play the hero and hope the truth would triumph.
His only consolation was that Bae would be proud of his son’s penchant for goodness.
“If you say so, Henry,” he said, smiling because, after all, this was his grandson. If Henry could ignore the warnings of everyone else related to him, and come visit his grandfather, then the least Rumpelstiltskin could do was to meet him halfway and pretend he enjoyed the inane video games he brought along. “But as much fun as this has been, I do have some pending paperwork to tend to. Why don’t you ask Belle to take my place while we wait for dinner?”
He thought that the reminder of takeout pizza would brighten the boy’s mood. Pizza was Henry’s favorite, and something he apparently didn’t often get at either Regina’s or the Charmings’ unless it was homemade and, therefore, fulsome and nutritive and less of an illicit treat.
But instead Henry’s eyes widened, and he shook his head energetically. “No, it’s okay!” he was quick to reassure him. “I can play some solo games, or... Really, it’s okay, grandpa. I’m sure Belle is very busy. I’ll be fine on my own!”
Rumpelstiltskin eyed the boy, thinking to warn him that his lies got even more obvious the more he insisted, but in the end he shrugged. It was too late to teach Henry how to dissemble convincingly, and he would only get grief from his mothers if he tried. “All right,” he said, reaching over to ruffle Henry’s hair affectionately. “Have fun.”
He wasn’t surprised to find Belle in his private study. The room doubled as their private library, and much like she had invaded his laboratory in the Dark Castle at her whim, here she had no compunctions about settling on the couch she’d added to the decoration after their marriage, a book in her hand.
“Everything okay?” she asked when she saw him enter. “I thought Henry was staying over tonight.”
“He is.” He walked to his cabinet, reaching into a drawer for a thick file. Midas had disliked calling upon the Dark One in the Enchanted Forest, but the owner of Storybrooke’s bank needed a good lawyer, and it was a given that Mr. Gold was the best. “I have work, though.”
“And you left Henry on his own?”
Rumpelstiltskin shrugged. “He is a big boy. And his highlight of this visit is a greasy box that smells of cheese-” he lifted a hand, aware of her protest-”and to spend some time with us, too. But make no mistake, sweetheart, we’re a far second after the pizza.”
Belle laughed. “He’s a teenage boy. I don’t think he’ll have much interest in anything that’s not food for a few years at least.”
“Not quite right,” he said with a chuckle.
Belle laughed. “A girl? Already?”
Rumpelstiltskin shook his head. “Video games. He’s had me playing some awful mockery of a battlefield for the last hour.” He shuddered a little. “I may not be completely familiar with this world, but I’m sure that can’t have been historically accurate.”
Belle had sat up, leaving her book aside. “Were there golden cannons?”
“I think so, yes.”
“That little cheat!”
Rumpelstiltskin raised an eyebrow. It was rare to hear Belle raise her voice. Even now, she seemed more indignant than actually angry. “Does this have anything to do with his insistence not to bother you?”
“Not bother me, will he?” Her smile sharpened. “He might have managed to beat me last time he came visit - barely! But I told him we’d have a rematch!”
Ah yes. No wonder Henry had tried to avoid Belle tonight. Even Rumpelstiltskin would shake in his boots, if his wife was bent on battle.
Belle was all sweetness and patience, around a core of steel that had allowed her to retain her optimistic outlook despite her worst experiences. She just refused to believe that the world was rotten through, and to Rumpelstiltskin’s surprise, he’d come to see that she wasn’t wrong (though he maintained that it was rotten enough that the best option was to keep an edge over any possible threat).
But that same stubborn streak occasionally latched onto other causes. And when it did, she didn’t take defeat easily.
Better video games than a real battlefield, he supposed.
Not that he’d think to stop her when she looked this determined, anyway.
“Have fun, my dear,” he said, watching her stride toward the living room and the unsuspecting Henry. He did try to give his grandson a way out, too. “Please remember it’s a school night, though.”
Belle smiled over her shoulder. “Oh, I’ve been practicing. It shouldn’t take that long.”
The End
13/10/16