Honestly, Belle Legume- no, Belle French- had no idea what she was going to do. She didn't want to think about that right now. All she wanted to think about was getting as far away from her soon to be ex husband as possible. The marriage had been a mistake from the first. She'd known it. She'd never wanted to marry him. It had all been for her father. If it hadn't been his dying wish, she would never have agreed. He'd died shortly after the wedding, content that his daughter was well off.

Hardly, Belle thought. Gaston had been Moe French's business partner. On paper, he looked like the ideal husband. It had only been after Moe was dead that the truth came out. He was a vain, drunk, controlling womanizer who only ever wanted Belle because she was beautiful. Well, Belle would never be controlled again! She was alone, but alone and free. Well, not quite alone.

Her hand went to her belly, now gently rounding as her pregnancy was just beginning to show. When she'd told Gaston she was pregnant, she'd expected him to be happy. Instead, he'd forced her to go on a diet, telling her she'd better not get too fat. When the ultrasound revealed she was carrying a daughter, he'd slapped her and told her that was for not having a son. She was glad of that slap. It had driven her to take every penny she had, get on a bus, and leave Boston. She would see to it Gaston never set eyes on that baby, or her ever again.

The strain of leaving left her exhausted, and she fell asleep on the bus until they came to a stop.

"Where are we?" she murmured sleepily.

"Storybrooke," the driver answered. "Just stopped to refuel."

Storybrooke? Belle had never heard of it. It must be some little out of the way place. She got off the bus, deciding she should probably grab something to eat. She knew she was underweight for her pregnancy. Gaston might have valued her figure over their- no her- baby's health, but she certainly didn't.

Belle was so lost in thought that she didn't realize the bus was leaving without her until it was too far gone to run after. It didn't really matter. There would be other buses. She didn't have much, just her purse and a carry on bag she'd crammed as many clothes as possible into, as well as some jewelry she could sell. She'd carried them with her, afraid of the only possessions she had being stolen. So when the bus had left, nothing of hers had went with it.

She knew she needed to be careful of her money, but a night's sleep here sounded delightful. There was a bead and breakfast/diner up the street. She decided she would have a good meal, spend a night in a hopefully soft bed, and plan what to do in the morning.

A pleasant seeming young brunette was at the counter. Her clothes were more revealing than anything Belle would have ever dared to wear, but she smiled warmly. An older woman, clearly the brunette's grandmother, was also behind the counter.

"Excuse me?" Belle said uncertainly. "I'd like a room, please."

"For how long?" the older woman asked.

"Um, I'm not really sure." She knew she desperately needed job. What money she had wouldn't last her long. If she could find something here, maybe she could rent a house or apartment. It could be as good a place as anywhere, although she much preferred large cities to small towns. Rent would be more expensive in a large city though. Maybe she'd be wise to stay here awhile and save her money. She'd need a good lawyer for her divorce, and her own home. There was no way she was going to let any court award Gaston the baby if it came down to a fight! She'd have to prove she had a good home and could raise the child though. Yes, the more money she saved up, the better.

She gave the woman her name and was about to take the key to her room when a man came in, leaning on a cane. Belle turned to look at him, and couldn't help noticing his soft brown eyes. He had brown hair that came down to his shoulders, and was wearing quite an expensive suit. Despite the cane, or maybe somehow because of it, he gave off an aura of power. The elderly woman looked as if she was about to be robbed and handed him a large wad of money, breaking the eye contact Belle had been holding with the man.

"It's all here!"

"Yes, yes of course it is Dearie. Thank you."

Belle noticed a pleasant Scottish accent. His voice was gentle enough that no one should have been afraid of him. Wait. Pleasant accent. Gentle voice. Soft brown eyes. She should most definitely not be thinking of any man that way! The last thing she needed or wanted was a man in her life right now. Even so, she felt a tingle as he looked at her again as he left, and told her to enjoy her visit.

"Who is that man?" Belle asked, curiosity getting the better of her.

"Mr. Gold," the younger brunette answered. "He owns this place."

Oh. That explained the money. He must have been collecting rent.

"He owns this inn?" Belle asked.

"No, the town," the elderly woman told her. "If you're a smart girl, you'll avoid him while you're here. There are only three people in town who have a kind word to say about him. One is his son. The others are Jefferson Hatter and his little girl Grace. That new therapist in town, Doc Hopper, he seems to like him too. No idea how they can see anything good in him. A colder hearted person never lived. To be fair though, he does dote on his son and that little girl, and he's fair to that Mr. Dove who works for him. No one really knows much about Dove though."

The subject changed to the room and something to eat. Lasagna was the special. Belle tried that. It wasn't bad, although she'd tasted better. As hungry as she was, she was just grateful for anything filling her stomach. After her supper she went strait to bed, but didn't fall asleep right away. It was strange. As tired as she was, she couldn't stop thinking about Mr. Gold. Something had passed between them when they'd held each other's gaze. Or had it? She laughed at how silly she was being.

"Even if I was ready to fall in love after all that's happened, what man is going to be interested in a pregnant, soon to be divorced woman?" She rested her hand on her belly again. "It's just you and me against the world, little one. But somehow I'll build a life for us. You're all I'll ever need."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Robert Gold added the money from Granny's to the rest of the rents he'd collected that day. He wasn't a greedy man, but he did enjoy knowing he owned Storybrooke. He'd grown up in poverty, but had used cunning and determination to make a good life. His wife, Milah, had left him when their son was a boy of four. He hadn't been able to provide her with an exciting enough life, and she'd run off with some lowlife. She'd tried to take their boy from him too, just for spite. That had been what changed the once timid man into a raging lion in the courtroom. He couldn't afford a lawyer at the time, but had represented himself so well that his only friend, Jefferson Hatter, had encouraged him to go back to law school.

At first he'd thought he was too old, but he had won full custody of his son after all. With the help of scholarships, he'd made it. Through wise investments, he'd become a wealthy man. First he'd bought the pawnshop, then the town to go with it. He had power through his wealth, and most importantly he'd always had his son, who was now a grown man. He couldn't think of anything else he could possibly want, until that night.

That woman at the bed and breakfast was certainly beautiful. She would never look twice at him though. Besides, she was likely only passing through. And she was pregnant. A woman like her no doubt had an adoring husband waiting for her. She was likely on her way home from visiting family. Still, he had noticed she didn't wear a wedding ring. He pushed aside those thoughts, and reasoned she'd probably only lost it. No doubt she'd be on her way in the morning.