Shoes and Belts

Chapter 1

Belle tugged on his sleeve, coaxing him away from the desk. "Come on! You're always working, and you never have any time to enjoy life. Loosen up a bit!"

Mr. Gold did not want to "loosen up a bit", but he would do anything for Belle. She had snuck her way into his heart and clamped onto it so damn hard, he didn't think he could ever stop loving her. The only problem was that she had no idea, and he intended to keep it that way; after all, who could love a lonely old man?
"I'm sorry to disappoint you dearie, but I'm afraid there will be no "enjoying life" tonight, just work and a bottle of scotch waiting for me at home." He inhaled deeply, hoping and praying the petite brunette would leave.

"Well then I'm coming with you."

He raised an eyebrow and leaned back in his chair, "Miss French, I do not know what you're implying."

"I'm not implying anything. I just think that if you won't go out with me, then I'm going to your house with you."

"And you think I'm just going to allow you to bring your pretty little self to enter my home?" Mr. Gold mentally smacked himself for calling her pretty. He wasn't supposed to compliment her, or anyone for that matter. He was the monster of Storybrooke. The bastard who gained power and wealth from scraps of nothing. Luckily, she didn't seem to mind.

"Yes, I do actually. I think you're going to let me in, bring out two shot glasses, as well as a bottle of tequila and we'll get drunk together and do crazy stuff and possibly die. I have a whole plan in my head to do just that."

Gold looked amused, "You and me plus tequila plus crazy stuff plus death. Sounds like a night to remember.... Or not remember, depending on the effect of the tequila. The only question is, how exactly are you going to convince me to go along with this plan of yours?"

Belle smiled back at him. "I won't have to convince you, I'll just follow you home, and you'll do the rest." She paused and checked her watch, "The time is going by fast, this is your only chance of having some fun with me before I go back to Australia."

Ah, yes. She was moving back to Australia where her father worked as a florist. Gold knew Moe French was financially struggling with his shop, Game of Thrones, and Belle had offered to work with him. Gold licked his lips and put his hands together, "Okay Miss French. We shall go along with your plan on one condition: do not make fun of my house."

~

"Pink? Seriously?" Belle smiled, standing next to Mr. Gold as he unlocked the door.

"I thought we had a deal, dearie."

"Okay, I won't mention it again. Let's just get inside already. I'm freezing to death out here!"
Gold nodded and  pushed open the door with his cane. He stepped inside as Belle followed behind him.

"Pull that table to the couch and then wait for me. I'll get the refreshments." He limped towards the kitchen, briefly looking up at her. She was biting her bottom lip, debating on the location of the table. Maybe this night wouldn't be so bad after all.

"Hey! Is this okay?" Belle yelled in the direction of the kitchen.

"It's perfect, love." He quietly spoke, standing behind the couch with a bottle of tequila in one hand and two shot glasses between his fingers. He leaned on his cane waiting for Belle to retrieve the items from him.

She placed everything onto the table and gestured for him to sit next to her. He weakly smiled, silently cursing his body for the sweat forming on his hands. He sat on the couch, a good two or three inches away from her legs. Oh god, those long, slender, creamy legs beneath that pale pink skirt. He hadn't realized it rose up her thigh, though not quite exposing anything serious.

"Okay, first things first. Are you ready to begin the craziest night of your life?" Belle visibly brightened and excitement shone off of her like the sun. Out of her excitement, she reached forward, holding his thigh and pulling herself until their legs were touching. The warmth from her body shot sparks of heat all around his body, sending panic into his brain.

His whole body froze and tensed up. Did she even realize where her hand was?! Her hand. His thigh. She was going to be the death of him. Instead of responding to her question, he merely nodded and poured two glasses of the treacherous alcohol. He picked one up and handed the other to her. He raised the glass to his lips and—

"Wait! No, we're doing it wrong." Belle laughed, setting her cup on the table and lowering his hand. "We have to play a game to get drunk, or it won't be as fun! We are going to play: Truth or Dare, but with a little twist of my own." She smiled devilishly. "Every time you refuse to answer a truth, you take a shot. And every time you refuse to do a dare, you have to remove one article of clothing. Shoes and belts don't count."