Archive of Our Own ^beta

No, he was thrilled to have been invited. Henry had won the tickets at school, and though Gold had offered his grandson to get even better ones courtside, Henry had been adamant that these would be fine.

Which they were. Except Gold was in the row below Henry, Neal, and Emma against the edge railing with nowhere to stretch out his bad leg. As the game started, he breathed a sigh of relief that no one had come to sit beside him.

“Over here, Belle!” 

Or not.

A Neanderthal, wearing a visitor’s team-colored henley, waved for his date to join him at Gold’s row. There were only two seats open, the ones directly next to him. 

Gold did not move so much as muscle to indicate displeasure but Emma patted him on the shoulder. “Better luck next time,” she said in complete understanding. Gold kept his eyes on the game below, listening to his son and grandson hoop and holler in excitement as the Celtics scored another three-pointer.

“Excuse me?”

Gold looked up, ready to say something scathing about being disturbed in the middle of the game, but a woman stood over him, unable to take her seat because his cane had somehow slipped into the crack between them.

“I didn’t want to bother you,” she said earnestly, risking a quick glance at the scoreboard. “But I didn’t want to damage your cane.”

He gaped at her, only remembering how to speak some time later. It may have been four seconds or four minutes but thankfully the first quarter buzzer went off and saved him from further embarrassment. He dived for his cane, just as Henry popped over the back of the empty seat. “Hey Grandpa!” he announced cheerfully. “We’re going to get nachos! Want anything?”

He managed a smile. “No. No, I’m good, Henry, thank you.”

Emma, with a pointed look at the woman still standing patiently for her seat to free up, scooted her son out of the row. “Come on, boys, let’s hurry so we don’t miss anything.”

Inspired by this conversation, the Nethandral pulled his attention from the game to exclaim, "Belle! Grab me a beer?”

The woman had not even gotten to sit down yet but she sighed and nodded. “Uh, alright. Coors Light Tall Boy?” she asked him as she shuffled back out of the row.

He nodded, barely looking up from his cell phone. When he felt Gold watching him, he looked up with a smug smile. “I bought the tickets, so she buys the beer.” He sounded as proud of that as if he himself invented going dutch himself.

“Practical,” Gold said as he turned back to the court. He barely noticed any of the second quarter’s start, too busy dreading/hoping for the woman’s return.

She returned before his family, two large beers in her hand. She handed one to her date and settled down with the other one. The row was very narrow and despite Gold’s attempts to sit more to the left, her shoulder still brushed against his since her date took up most of her seat with his broad chest and arms.

The second quarter was agony. Gold could smell her perfume, hear her whispered passionate comments on the game, and she would accidentally brush his arm every time she took a drink of her beer. Which was often but not as often as her date. “Beer me!” he said, crushing the can on his knee. 

Belle shook her head, intent on the foul being announced. “At the break, Gaston,” she promised.

“Come on, Belle,” he wheedled. “You’re going to make me wait?”

She took a deep breath and tossed back the rest of her drink before standing. She did not say a word to her date but squeezed past everyone, most of who gave her dark looks as they missed the free throw before she disappeared back into the concession area. Gold missed the rest of the period as he kept checking for her return. He told himself it was because he would have to stand so she could get back into her seat. By the time, she returned, he quickly schooled his features to appear as if he barely noticed she was there. Maneuvering around him, muttering apologies as she avoided his bad leg, she thrust two beers into Gaston’s hands and then sat down with her own new beverage and without pausing, drank about half of it in one drink.

Emma whistled behind him, low enough that probably no one else heard but it meant Gold wasn’t the only one witnessing this. Within a minute of Belle’s return, the second quarter ended and it was halftime. “Gonna go take a leak,” Gaston announced cheerfully. “You staying here?”

“Yup,” Belle said through gritted teeth pulling out her cell phone.

“Grandpa!” Henry said, switching seats with his mother so she could talk to Neal during the halftime. “Are you having fun?”

Gold reached up to ruffle his preteen grandson’s hair. “Very much,” he assured him as Henry batted his hand away. 

“How old?” Belle asked as Henry returned to needle his father into going and looking at team merchandise.

Slightly startled to know Belle had been watching this exchange with a delighted smile, it took Gold a minute to remember.  “Thirteen-fourteen now,” Gold supplied. “It’s his first Celtics game.”

“Mine too,” Belle shared. “I drove down from a small town up in Maine. Storybrooke.”

Gold’s eyes widened. “I’m…I’m from Storybrooke,” he said after he regained his wits. “My son and his family live here. My grandson won four tickets to the game at school and graciously offered me one.”

“No way!” she said in excitement. “We should have carpooled. I had this…” She sighed and looked over her shoulder. “This date. He talked me into coming down with courtside seats…and instead, we ate at the arena restaurant, apparently, it's also called Courtside.” Gold had some very interesting thoughts on that subject and though he did not say them out loud, Belle nodded in agreement as if she heard them anyway. “Yea, this is the last time I go on a blind date out of town.”

“Perhaps…” Gold fell silent.

“Perhaps what?”

“Perhaps just try to enjoy it?” he offered. “The game, I mean.”

She smiled. “Okay.”

His grandson had been listening to the whole time it seemed. “How about a code word?” he suggested. 

“Henry!” 

 “You should have a code word,” Henry insisted over his grandfather. “In case it gets bad. Like Cobra or Rumpelstiltskin!”

“Rumpelstiltskin?” Belle said with amusement. “I like that one.”

“Perfect!” Henry said with a definite nod. “If you need a way out of the date, just turn to my grandpa here and say Rumpelstiltskin and we’ll all make sure you get home safe.”

“My,” Belle said, winking at Gold before turning back to Henry. Gold almost missed the next part because his heart had started racing and pounding loudly in his ears. “You are a gentleman. Thank you, Henry. If I need help, I’ll say the word Rumpelstiltskin.”

Her date reappeared around then, and Henry quickly went back to his seat. Emma leaned down as Gaston began chatting with Belle about the quality of the restrooms. “What was that all about?” she asked in a whisper.

“Your son is a regular prince charming,” Gold chuckled. “He’s given the poor girl a code word in case she wants to bail on her date.”

“Wouldn’t blame her,” Emma snorted. “He’s got more brawn than brains.”

The third quarter was a nail biter but the Celtics held on even as the Miami team pressed them on the paint. When the Heat called a much-needed timeout, the stadium turned its attention to the screens overhead where the cameras were finding various people in the audience. Gold watched this, so he did not have to pay attention to the fact that Belle was chatting with Gaston, having seemingly taken Gold’s advice to try and enjoy herself. After a while, the screens blossomed into hearts and the entire audience cheered as the words KISS CAM came up.

“Oh for heaven’s sake,” Gold muttered darkly. “You have to be kidding me.”

First, one older couple pecked lips, then a younger couple giggled and waved away the camera before giving in to peer pressure and kissing so quick if anyone blinked they missed it. Gold went to turn around and say something to Emma when he saw Belle on screen. The camera came from just below him, and it angled up on Belle’s beautiful face and Gaston’s bored one as he typed something into his phone.

Gold froze. He could elbow Belle, say something, alert her to the situation but he found himself rather against seeing Belle kiss the idiot she was with and so he remained utterly mute. The crowd roared their approval of this handsome couple, and Gold could see Henry and Neal right behind them waving at the screen. His son, not realizing the situation, tapped Belle and pointed and her face broke into a smile of excited surprise.

“Hey!” she exclaimed, tapping Gaston on the shoulder. “Look, we’re on screen!”

Gaston waved her off. “I’m trying to check the scores of the hockey game,” he grumbled.

“But-!”

Gaston shrugged her off him and Belle sat in stunned disbelief as the crowd booed. Gold was sitting right next to her! He should console her, help her, do something but he just sat there frozen.

Belle didn’t. After a moment when the camera didn’t pan away and the crowd kept yelling, she drew herself up and turned to Gold with a look of utter determination in her eyes. “Rumpelstiltskin,” she said, blue eyes blazing.

God help him, he didn’t even hesitate. He leaned forward, put his hand on her jaw so softly that he barely grazed her skin, and kissed her.

The crowd roared but all he heard was Belle’s soft inhalation of pleasure as she leaned further into the kiss. Her lips opened and he groaned as he let himself taste her. There were hints of citrus and garlic and beer but under that something sweet and intoxicating. Someone was tapping him on the shoulder. He finally broke away to breathe and the first thing he saw was Belle’s eyes, still shuttered in pleasure. Her lips were rosy and full from his kiss and she wavered a bit as he released her to fall back into her seat.

Gold risked a glance up at the screen to find Emma and Henry grinning in amazement behind him while his son stared in confused horror, having apparently missed Belle’s predicament and as confused as the rest of the stadium.

Well, confused but fucking delighted by the sound of it. Gold and Belle were still on the camera, the entire stadium on their feet and roaring with approval while the teams tried to retake the court.

Beside him, Belle was saying something to Gaston. She shook her head and crossed her arms before he finally stood up and stomped away. The crowd jeered as he retreated, the camera following him all the way out of sight before the referees blew their whistles to call order back to the game.

Belle turned back to him with a guilty smile. “Um. Thank you.”

“What are you doing tomorrow night?” he asked her, hardly daring to hope but too high on what had just happened to care.”Would you like to go to dinner at Gepetto’s?”

Her smile was worth the embarrassment when the video went viral and the entire town of Storybrooke played it nonstop for two weeks.

Her enthusiastic yes was worth his family’s constant ribbing for the rest of the year and when the camera came back to them at the end of the night, it did not need to prompt them to kiss again.