Breathe Symphonies: Weather Patterns

By: TriplePirouette/3Pirouette

Category: Bittersweet. Because that's apparently how I roll.

Spoilers: through 1.12

Disclaimer: They're not mine.

Distribution: my , LJ, and my AO3. Anyone else please ask first :)

Summary: The Golds are stuck in the rain in their early days in Storybrooke.

Feedback PLEASE at:triplepirouettephile (at)hotmail (dot) com Or just hit the little button there.

AN: Prompted. chippedhearts: "car breaking down. in the rain. :3" For whatever reason I found this really, really hard to write. You got car and rain, that was as close as I could come. Not sure why. Here it is, though. Short and hopefully sweet.

Also, of those that have been asking about order in reviews, the stories are meant to be read in the order that they're posted, but if you check my author page I've put in a list of the chronological order, which includes a story I have yet to post, as well.

The rain in Storybrooke is never like the rain in their old world. There, it was just enough to keep the grass green, the crops watered, and the wells wet. Any manner of magic man or sorcerer worth their spells could control the weather, and that meant anything other than pleasant, gentle storms were few and far between. Here, storms pound the coast mercilessly, shooting down rain and hail and flooding the sewers. The people of this world can't control it, so they try to predict it.

Gold decides that after this perhaps he should start to pay attention to those forecasts, even if there's little in the rest of the news of this world that holds his interest. They are pulled off the road in his car, just outside the town proper, shielded on one side by Storybrooke's forest swaying violently. The other half of the car is exposed to the pounding, sheeting rain. Lightning flashes and thunder explodes so close they can feel the sound reverberate in their bodies before they can hear it. Belle jumps, reaching across the seat for his hand.

He squeezes her fingers surely. "Just a storm," he tries to reassure her. "As soon as it calms a bit we'll start up again."

She flashes him a nervous, unsure smile. "Oh, I know." Belle's voice wavers with the same tremor he feels in her hand, but she tries to hide it anyway.

He chuckles just the tiniest bit in the back of his throat. "Come here," he says warmly, tipping his head to the side, pulling her hand toward him. Her eyebrows shoot up to her hairline, but after a few more tugs she relents, unbuckling her seat belt and climbing until she is in his lap, her feet still resting in the passenger seat. "Much better," he says as he kisses her quickly, wrapping his arms tight around her.

Belle smiles, letting her head fall to his shoulder. "Always." She plays with the handkerchief in his pocket, straightening it and wrinkling it and letting her fingers drift into his pocket. "Tell me something you miss," she whispers, looking for something to fill the silence aside from the sound of rain.

His hand straightens her skirt in a familiar rhythm. "My wheel," he says easily. No explanation is needed. His rhythm continues, turning into a gentle caress. "And you?"

Her fingers twine in the short hairs at the back of his neck. "The stars. They're not quite the same here."

His fingers ghost over her thigh, he thinks her shaking has just about stopped. "I hadn't noticed."

She falls quiet and he's content to simply hold her as the storm rages. She jumps every time there's a rumble of thunder, ducks her head deeper into the crook of his neck every time the lightning flashes, but he just keeps a hand tight around her shoulders and she calms quickly. The white noise of the maelstrom almost has him lulled to sleep when she speaks again. "Do you miss your magic?"

He smiles and kisses her forehead. "Not usually. Though sometimes I do...when there's a particularly large flight of stairs, for instance."

Belle chuckles and nuzzles her nose into his cheek. Another clap of thunder sounds and her breath catches in her throat. Her playful manner disappears and she's looking for more to distract her. "Could you ever live without it?" Her question is gentle, her tone soft enough for him to know that he doesn't have to answer.

He sighs, knowing that he will. He twirls a stray curl around his index finger before pressing it behind her ear. "Only if we can defeat the Queen in this world. You know I can't give it up if Regina's still a threat. Besides," he drifts his lips over the crest of her ear, "I'm quite powerless at the moment."

She turns her head, a coy smirk on her lips when lightning flashes across the sky. In short order a clap of thunder rocks the car and she jumps in his embrace. Gold pulls his wife closer and tries to hide the smile on his lips.

"Won't be much longer now," he says softly, smoothing the hair over the crown of her head. He can tell the storm is abating by the size of the droplets on the windshield, the space of time between the lightning and the thunder, the way that the wind blows... old knowledge that he finds is just as useful in this world as he did in the other.

He cannot tell her of a different kind of storm he sees on the horizon; a storm of war and hate and death. Instead he holds her, rocking her through the unfamiliar turmoil of the heavens and knowing that the day of reckoning, the day when the sky will burn and the lives of all their people will be at stake, will come far too soon. At least, for now, he can comfort her.