Anon wanted to see something of Rumbelle running a sex shop together. This is what I came up with. I am pretty dang proud of how it came out. Enjoy! And I’m sorry it took so long XD
It all started with an antique pair of lingerie (if you could even call lingerie antique, which Mr. Gold did not) which Ruby Lucas brought in. Admittedly, he was about to turn her away before Belle French stepped in. She’d been in the shop that day, looking over the teaset she always debated about buying, before announcing that she’d been reading up on these things (seriously why was she reading up on these things?!) and was able to confirm that they were genuine and unused. This, somehow, started a snowball effect in the little town of Storybrooke and soon enough Gold found the back room of his shop filled with a myriad of not only lingerie but also collars and a myriad of other things he’d rather not admit he kept. But in his shop was also Belle, who’d taken mercy on the him and decided to help catalouge the oddities and assist the customers when they came in for…that.
“I’m Ruby’s friend I’ve read up alot on this stuff.” She sold him once a she arranged a display of a myriad of silk scarves. “Besides, I chipped that cup. The least I can do is help you with this stuff.”
And all he could do was nod in agreement as she zipped around, arranging things he’d never thought the citizens of Storybrooke would ever be interested in when it came to the bedroom. Toys he never thought would be used by them. He always figured that would be it. She’d arrange things he’d rather not consider productive to his shop (Antique lingerie and retro dildos his arse. honestly how could any of these things be considered valuable? And why were some made of glass?!) and go back to whatever it was she liked to do. Back to her normal life. But she didn’t, and before he knew it, she was cataloging not just the sexual commodities, but his entire shop. Not that he minded, but he couldn’t help but grumble a little. He had a reputation to uphold, of course. Classy sex commodities or not.
“I know my shop, dearie.” He said from his spot at the counter, tinkering away at an old pocket watch.
“I know you do.” She said pleasantly. Her tone was always pleasant. Warm. Welcoming.
“Then why do you insist on poking your nose into it?”
“I chipped your cup. It’s the least I can do.”
“It’s just a cup.”
“Of course it is.”
Oh but he did love it when she swept into his shop in his color. Her usual array of blue and green skirts and dresses suited her fine, but never did Mr. Gold think she looked better than draped in yellows and golds. His colors. He liked it. Made the town think twice before touching her. Made it known that somehow, as wrong and unofficial as it may be, that the dragon of the pawn shop was hoarding the lovely maiden all to himself. Over a bloody chipped cup that was quickly becoming his favorite thing in the shop. Well, besides Belle herself.
Today Gold decided the woman was trying to kill him, breezing in adorned in a short but flowy yellow and gold dress with sleeves that fell off her shoulders. It wouldn’t have been so bad save for its complete lack of a back. Honestly, had she been plotting this?
“Good morning Mr. Gold.” She chimed, depositing a bag from Granny’s on the counter along with a coffee mug. “Is an egg biscuit okay today?”
“I suppose it’ll have to be.” Belle rolled her eyes, sipping her own coffee. “I’ve told you before I’m perfectly capable of getting my own breakfast. I may have a limp, dearie but I’m not an invalid.”
Belle only hummed in response. “Yes Mr. Gold. My mistake. Tomorrow I’ll get a bacon biscuit.”
“See that you do.”