Chapter Text
Belle’s alarm went off softly at seven in the morning, but she had already been awake for a few minutes, watching the golden dawn light filter through her bedroom curtains. Twenty-five years old, she thought, stretching in bed with a small smile. It wasn’t a particularly special age, but there was something in the morning air that made her feel this birthday would be different.
After a relaxing bath and choosing a light blue dress that brought out her eyes, Belle decided to start the day by visiting her father at the flower shop. It was an unofficial tradition - whenever she had a special day, she liked to stop by Game of Thorns to see him and chat. Getting along with her father was still relatively new.
The streets of Storybrooke were quiet that Tuesday morning. Belle walked slowly, savoring the fresh air and the sounds of the city waking up. Some residents were already moving along the sidewalks while the streets remained empty - cars weren’t really necessary when you could walk anywhere in town. Belle was heading in the opposite direction from Main Street, and she waved to Archie, who was watering the flower pots in front of his office.
“Good morning, Belle! Happy birthday!” shouted the therapist, who apparently remembered her birthday. Or, as she imagined, Ruby must have been very excited about Belle’s birthday and let the information slip.
“Thank you, Archie,” Belle returned the greeting, feeling a wave of affection, even though it had Ruby’s fingerprints all over it.
When she arrived at Game of Thorns, Belle stopped for a moment on the sidewalk, admiring the window display that her father always kept impeccable. There were seasonal flower arrangements - golden chrysanthemums, some late roses, and foliage beginning to show autumn colors. The shop had always held a special charm for her, with its large windows that let natural light bathe the flowers in golden tones during the morning.
Belle pushed open the glass door, making the old bronze bell ring its familiar melody.
“Dad?” she called, inhaling deeply the aroma that was a complex mixture of different flowers, damp earth, and that touch of eucalyptus that Maurice always kept in a vase near the counter.
“Belle!” Maurice’s warm voice came from the back of the shop, where he was probably preparing new arrangements for the day. “What a wonderful surprise!”
Maurice French appeared from the back of the flower shop, drying his hands on a green apron stained with fresh earth and small leaf fragments. His graying hair was slightly disheveled from the morning’s work, and there was that familiar gleam in his blue eyes - the same one Belle always associated with the quiet satisfaction of creating something beautiful with his own hands.
“Good morning, Dad,” Belle smiled, approaching the wooden counter where some gardening tools were carefully organized next to a notepad full of the day’s orders.
“Good morning, my dear!” Maurice opened his arms enthusiastically, and Belle leaned over the counter to receive an affectionate hug that carried the comforting aroma of damp earth mixed with his usual mild cologne. “Happy birthday! Twenty-five years of my princess.”
“Thank you, Dad,” Belle laughed, allowing herself to melt into that familiar embrace that always made her feel at home. “But we don’t exactly have a kingdom for me to reign over.”
“Ah, but royal blood doesn’t disappear, regardless of where we are,” he responded with that wise smile he used when he wanted to remind Belle of her lineage. His large, calloused hands rested on her shoulders as he observed her with renewed attention. “You’re a beautiful woman, Belle. Your mother would be so proud to see the extraordinary person you’ve become.”
Maurice’s eyes filled with tears as he mentioned his wife, and Belle felt her own heart tighten. Then, as if wanting to chase away the melancholy of the moment, he slid one hand to his apron pocket and withdrew a small navy blue velvet box, clearly antique and well cared for.
“Dad…” Belle began, immediately recognizing what this meant.
“It was your mother’s,” Maurice interrupted gently, opening the small box with reverence. Inside, a delicate white gold chain held a polished oval sapphire that seemed to capture and reflect all the morning light. “It also belonged to your grandmother, great-grandmother, and great-great-grandmother… it’s an heirloom that has passed from mother to daughter for generations.”
Maurice laughed softly, removing the chain from the box and carefully placing it in Belle’s palms. “Today it’s yours, and I hope one day it will be your daughter’s. If you want to have children, of course! I’m not suggesting anything,” he added quickly, raising his hands in comic surrender.
Belle laughed, but her expression became slightly melancholic. “For me to have children, Dad, I first need to have a relationship. And I’m quite far from that at the moment.” She sighed, running her fingers delicately over the precious stone. “Sometimes I feel like I’m too good at pushing people away.”
“Don’t say that,” Maurice protested, but Belle continued:
“I’m serious, Dad. Between my studies, work, and my tendency to intimidate men with quotes from medieval philosophy, it’s not exactly easy to find someone interested.”
Maurice was about to respond when his gaze drifted to something behind the counter. A curious expression crossed his face as he remembered something.
“Funny you should mention that…” he murmured, turning to get something that was carefully positioned in a vase of water at the back of the shop.
Belle frowned, intrigued by the sudden change in her father’s behavior. “What is it?”
“Well,” Maurice said, returning with a bouquet that made Belle hold her breath, “it seems someone disagrees with your assessment about relationships.”
It was a stunning bouquet, but it wasn’t just the beauty of the flowers that impressed her - it was the evident precision, the obvious intention behind each meticulous choice. The white tulips were perfect, with petals that seemed like velvet and a color so vibrant it almost pulsed with life of its own. The pansies created a delicate contrast with their harmonious mixture of deep purple and soft yellow, their small “faces” turned upward as if they were smiling especially for her.
The honeysuckle was artistically intertwined among the other flowers, its delicate branches adding a unique, organic texture, while its small white and yellow flowers exuded a sweet, enveloping perfume that brought memories of spring gardens. The red roses were the final touch - not the vibrant red many preferred, but a dark, elegant tone that perfectly complemented the color spectrum.
Everything was tied with a red satin ribbon that seemed to have been specifically chosen to contrast with the rustic kraft paper wrapping the stems, creating a presentation that was simultaneously sophisticated and welcoming.
“My God,” Belle murmured, extending her hands to receive the bouquet as if it were something sacred. “It’s absolutely beautiful.”
“Someone ordered this specifically for you,” Maurice said, watching with pleasure the expression of surprise and admiration on his daughter’s face. “And it wasn’t just any order, Belle. The person gave extraordinarily specific instructions.”
Belle held the bouquet with reverence, feeling the delicate weight of the flowers and the softness of the ribbon between her fingers. “Specific how?”
“Well, first, she asked for exactly these flowers. Not ‘something colorful’ or ‘a pretty bouquet’ - she specified white tulips, purple and yellow pansies, fresh honeysuckle, red roses, and a single peachy-pink peony. Then, she insisted they be tied with a red ribbon - not pink, not white, specifically red.”
Belle frowned, her analytical mind already beginning to work. “That’s incredibly specific.”
“And there’s more,” Maurice continued, clearly savoring the mystery as much as Belle. “The person said the flowers should be delivered at exactly eight o’clock in the morning on your birthday - not a minute before or after - and that they should come with this.”
Maurice extended a small cream-colored paper card, slightly smaller than a business card, with lightly gilded edges. Belle accepted it, expecting to find a conventional romantic message or at least a revealing signature.
Instead, she found something completely unexpected: a meticulous sequence of numbers organized in groups of eight digits each.
01000110 01101100 01101111 01110010 01101001 01101111 01100111 01110010 01100001 01110000 01101000 01111001
Belle looked at the card, then at her father, then back at the card, feeling a mixture of fascination and intellectual challenge.
“Binary code,” she said slowly, her voice laden with recognition and growing interest.
“Binary what?” Maurice asked, leaning in to examine the card over her shoulder.
“Binary code. It’s a numbering system that uses only the digits 0 and 1 to represent information - including text. Each letter of the alphabet has a specific representation in binary code.” Belle turned the card between her fingers, her mind already beginning to work on the puzzle. “Someone is communicating with me through programming language.”
Maurice laughed, shaking his head with admiration and pride. “Well, whoever this mysterious person is, they certainly did their homework on you. They know you love an intellectual challenge as much as you appreciate beautiful flowers.”
Belle nodded, but her mind was already completely absorbed in the possibilities. Who in Storybrooke would have enough programming knowledge to know she could decipher binary code? And more importantly, who would know she’d be genuinely intrigued and excited instead of annoyed by receiving an encrypted puzzle instead of a conventional romantic declaration?
“Dad,” she said, her voice taking on the investigative tone he knew well, “the person who placed this order… could you describe them?”
Maurice scratched his chin thoughtfully. “Actually, it wasn’t placed in person. The order came by letter, with very elegant and precise handwriting.”
“Can I see the letter?” Belle asked, feeling her curiosity intensify. Someone had been extremely careful about maintaining anonymity.
“Of course,” Maurice walked to the counter and retrieved the order letter from an organized folder, handing it to his daughter. “Whoever it is didn’t spare any effort in the planning. Knew exactly how much it would cost, made advance payment via bank transfer. Very methodical.”
Belle examined the letter carefully, looking for hidden clues in the handwriting or sentence structure, but found nothing that would reveal her secret admirer’s identity. The letter was elegant, direct yet cordial:
[Dear Mr. French,
I would like to order a special bouquet for this Tuesday, which should be delivered precisely at eight o’clock in the morning to Miss Isabelle French. The bouquet should be composed of white tulips, purple and yellow pansies, fresh honeysuckle, red roses, and a light pink peony.
The tying should be done with the red ribbon that accompanies this letter in the envelope, and the enclosed card should be attached to the bouquet. Payment in the exact amount is included.
I don’t intend to scare your daughter or cause any kind of discomfort, I intend to intrigue her with a birthday mystery.
Cordially, someone.]
Belle laughed softly at the careful formality of the language and the evident affection behind each chosen word. She looked again at the bouquet, then at the enigmatic card in her hands.
There was something about this entire situation that was simultaneously touching and intellectually stimulating. Someone had gone to considerable trouble not only to send her beautiful flowers, but to create an elaborate, personalized mystery for her to decipher - someone who knew her well enough to know she would appreciate both the romantic gesture and the mental challenge.
“I need to solve this,” she murmured, more to herself than to her father, already feeling the familiar excitement of a puzzle waiting to be unraveled. “Can I keep the order card?”
“Of course,” Maurice observed his daughter with a knowing smile. After twenty-five years, he knew how to recognize that specific gleam in Belle’s eyes - the same expression she had as a child upon discovering a new book in the library, or as a teenager encountering a complex mathematical theorem.
“You know,” he said, leaning on the counter, “in all my years running this flower shop, I’ve never received such an… elaborate order. Whoever this person is, they know you very well.”
“That’s what intrigues me,” Belle admitted, holding the card up to the morning light as if it might reveal hidden secrets. “Someone understands that I’d prefer a mystery to a conventional romantic note… Who would go to the trouble of converting something to binary code?”
“Well, the admirer is yours!” Maurice laughed and then raised an eyebrow, curious. “You don’t have any idea?”
Belle frowned, mentally going through her list of acquaintances while drumming her fingers on the flower shop’s wooden counter. She felt her heart leap in her chest and consequently increase its beats - it wasn’t a suspicion, it was who Belle wanted to be responsible for this.
She shook her head trying to push that thought away. Belle didn’t want to deal with that today, holding the very well-intentioned bouquet in her hands - maybe it was time to seek someone tangible.
“Maybe it’s a bit too early to point fingers.” Belle spoke with a soft blush on her cheeks.
“Oh.” Her father exclaimed with raised eyebrows. “So there is someone.”
Belle’s face turned an extremely intense shade of red. “No!” She spoke quickly, hugging the bouquet against herself.
Her father gave a long laugh, his shoulders moving as he shook his head from side to side. “My love, you’re a terrible liar.”
Belle huffed, in the French style of doing so. “It’s not who I think it is,” she looked at the bouquet feeling her chest warm with the possibility, “just who I wish it were.”
“Maybe it can be exactly who you imagine, my love.” Her father spoke, stroking Belle’s shoulder. “Any man in the world would fight to have a space in that restless mind of yours.”
Belle laughed dryly, caressing the petal of one of the roses. “Maybe the great irony is there,” she sighed and shook her head again to push those thoughts away. “Whoever it is, it’s a noble gesture that I intend to reciprocate.”
She shook her head, carefully storing the card in her jacket pocket along with the sapphire necklace she hadn’t yet put on. “I need a computer to decipher this properly. I can do it in my head, but it will take much longer.”
“Going to Granny’s?” Maurice asked, already knowing his daughter’s morning routine.
“As always,” Belle confirmed, adjusting her bag strap on her shoulder and carefully taking the bouquet. “Ruby should lend me her computer for a few minutes. And if I’m going to solve a mystery, I need strong coffee and Granny’s pancakes to function properly.”
Maurice laughed, rounding the counter to give his daughter another hug. “Of course, dear. Go ahead. And Belle?” He called when she was already heading for the door. “I hope I can meet this special person.”
Belle smiled, holding the bouquet carefully. “Well, I hope so too.”
“I’m anxious to see how this great mystery unfolds.” He laughed, leaning on the counter.
“See you later, Dad,” she said, walking toward the door. “And thank you for the necklace. It’s perfect.”
“It was meant to be,” Maurice replied, watching her leave with the bouquet in her arms and renewed determination in her steps.
As she left the flower shop, Belle couldn’t stop thinking about the possibilities. The binary code, the specific flowers, the perfect timing - someone had planned this meticulously. And for the first time in a long while, she felt truly curious about what would come next.
The door’s bell rang softly behind her as she stepped out onto the street, but Belle barely heard it. Her mind was already working on the code, trying to remember the conversions she had learned years ago in a computer science book she read out of curiosity. The book hadn’t held much of her attention - she remembered finding binary code very interesting but it was the only thing she really understood from the book.
This would definitely be a birthday to remember.
Belle walked through the streets of Storybrooke toward Granny’s with an energy she hadn’t felt in weeks. The bouquet in her hands seemed to vibrate with possibilities, and the card with the binary code burned almost literally in her pocket. Each step brought her closer to the answer, and she could barely contain her excitement.
Granny’s Diner was in its usual morning bustle when Belle pushed open the door, making the bell ring its familiar melody. The aroma of strong coffee, frying bacon, and fresh bread enveloped her immediately, creating that comforting feeling of home that only a few special places could provide.
Belle looked around, searching for Ruby, and found her emerging from the kitchen with a red apron tied at her waist and a steaming cup of coffee in her hands. Her dark hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail, with some strands escaping and framing her face. There was something about Ruby’s smile that always made Belle feel a little more awake, a little more alive.
“Belle!” Ruby Lucas looked over the counter where she was organizing some orders, pretending to be distracted before an expression of theatrical surprise crossed her face. “Oh! Today is… wait, isn’t it your…?” she stopped, biting her lower lip in a way that made Belle’s mouth go dry, “Sorry, I completely forgot today is your birthday!”
Belle laughed, knowing Ruby too well to believe the act. “Ruby, you’ve been more excited than me for the past two weeks talking about today. You couldn’t forget even if you wanted to.”
“Okay, okay,” Ruby laughed, quickly abandoning the farce and rounding the counter to hug Belle effusively.
Belle watched her approach, involuntarily noticing how the movement made the apron swing slightly, how Ruby walked with a natural confidence that was simultaneously intimidating and attractive.
Then Ruby pulled her into a hug, and Belle had to restrain herself from moaning out loud.
The hug was more intimate than Belle expected - Ruby pulled her completely against herself, their bodies pressing in the most delicious way possible. Belle could feel Ruby’s warmth through their clothes, the soft perfume that always made her want to lean closer, the way Ruby’s breasts pressed gently against hers.
For a moment, Belle forgot to breathe entirely. Her hands naturally found Ruby’s back, her fingers spreading over the warm silk of the blouse, feeling the heat radiating from the skin just beneath the fabric. She could feel Ruby’s soft muscles moving under her fingers when Ruby adjusted the hug, pulling her even closer.
This is too intimate, Belle thought desperately, even as she melted into the embrace. Friends don’t hug like this. Or do they?
Ruby held Belle’s shoulders, pulling back just enough to look into her eyes. Their faces were too close, their noses almost touching, and Belle could see small golden flecks in Ruby’s green eyes that she had never noticed before.
“You look… different today. More… wiser? Mature? Like you gained some new perspective overnight.”
The way Ruby looked at her was too intense, as if she were carefully memorizing Belle’s features. Of course it was impossible for Belle to have changed overnight, but if she had changed, Ruby would surely notice in the same second. Her eyes briefly dropped to Belle’s lips before returning to her eyes, so quickly that Belle almost thought she’d imagined it.
“It’s age,” Belle managed to say, her voice coming out huskier than intended. She forced herself to step back, creating some physical distance before she did something stupid like leaning forward those few centimeters that separated them. “Twenty-five years of accumulated wisdom.”
“Whatever age is doing, it’s doing you very well,” Ruby laughed. Belle blushed fiercely at the compliment. Of course she expected nothing less than flattery on her birthday, especially from Ruby, but she was aware she wouldn’t survive the playful flirting.
She could almost pretend Ruby was shamelessly flirting.
But then Ruby smiled that casual smile of always, and Belle reminded herself that Ruby was like this with everyone. Warm, touching, naturally seductive without even trying.
Then Belle noticed how her eyes moved quickly from the bouquet to her face, an expression of genuine interest replacing the casual smile from before.
Belle studied Ruby’s face intensely, looking for any sign - a furrowed brow, a hesitation in her voice, perhaps a question about who had sent them. Any indication that the idea of Belle receiving romantic flowers from someone else bothered her.
Instead, what Belle saw was genuine admiration and… joy? Ruby seemed sincerely happy for her.
Belle felt a pang of disappointment that she tried to disguise quickly. Ruby was happy for her. Really, genuinely happy that Belle had an admirer. There wasn’t even a trace of jealousy or possessiveness. Just the pure joy of a good friend.
Of course, Belle thought, because we’re great friends.
“Wow, what beautiful flowers,” Ruby commented, but Belle noticed she kept a respectful distance from the bouquet. “They’re really beauti—”
Ruby’s delicate sneeze echoed through the restaurant, surprising even herself.
Belle raised an eyebrow, amused. “Bless you.” Then she sneezed again. Belle laughed softly, repeating, “Bless you.”
“Thank you…” Ruby murmured quietly.
Granny appeared from the kitchen, attracted by the sound of the sneezes. “What’s this, child! Sounds like you swallowed a squirrel.”
Her eyes lit up the moment she saw Belle there. She smiled warmly, keeping a respectful distance from the flowers. “Oh! Look at that! Happy birthday, Belle.” Granny stroked Belle’s shoulder with a maternal touch. “Good thing you came early. Ruby is almost bearable under the effect of an antihistamine.”
“I came for the ambient sound.” Belle joked, receiving a good laugh from Granny.
Belle laughed but part of her mind was still processing Ruby’s reaction to the flowers. No jealousy. No questions. Just sincere happiness.
Maybe it was better this way. Maybe it was time for Belle to stop looking for signs where they didn’t exist and concentrate on someone who was actually interested in her. Someone who had gone to the trouble of creating an elaborate mystery specifically for her.
“How hilarious you two are.” Ruby grumbled, sneezing three more times, so delicate they sounded like bird chirps.
“Bless you.” Belle couldn’t contain her laughter any longer. “Wait! Keep going, I was remembering a song.” Her laughter increased even more.
“Shut up.” Ruby murmured, moving away from the flowers still feeling like she wanted to sneeze. “It’s the damn pollen.”
“I’ve been hearing those sneezes since morning, maybe now you’ll learn to arrive on time.” Granny warned, hitting her granddaughter’s shoulder with the dish towel. “Make sure to treat Belle well!”
Ruby raised her eyebrows for a few seconds and then touched her own shoulder. “It’s me you should be worried about,” she joked and then turned her attention to the birthday girl. “Where were we?”
“I was going to thank you for stopping sneezing, I was getting intimidated. You do a very aggressive bird impression.” Belle laughed even more, the jokes coming one after another in her mind. She could do this forever.
Ruby was about to respond in kind but then she sneezed again, the delicate, thin sound that seemed to irritate her. Belle laughed even harder. “I think you’re entering villain territory for this.”
“For being happy?” She wiped the tear from her eyes, catching her breath, making sure to keep the bouquet away from Ruby. “That was adorable, I think I’ll hear your sneezes on the way to heaven.”
Ruby laughed, disguising the soft blush on her cheeks, then she crossed her arms, seeming to have recovered her composure and looked again at the flowers. “Your dad nailed the arrangement.”
“It’s not from him,” Belle frowned and spoke again quickly. “Of course, it was him who made it and who delivered it to me, but it wasn’t him who gave it to me.”
Ruby raised her eyebrows with genuine interest. “Really? From whom then?”
Still no change in tone. No tension. Ruby seemed curious in the same way she would be if Belle mentioned any other interesting news.
“That’s why I need your help,” Belle continued, trying to keep her voice casual while a part of her still hoped for some different reaction from Ruby. “Whoever sent this gave me a message in binary code. I need a computer to decipher it.”
“Binary code? Really?” Ruby asked, seeming impressed with the gesture’s creativity. “You have a very intelligent admirer.”
‘Your admirer’. The words echoed in Belle’s mind. Ruby really didn’t care. She was even helping Belle focus on someone else.
“Yes! It’s a sequence of numbers that represents letters. Each letter has a specific combination of zeros and ones.” Belle practically vibrated with excitement. “I need to convert this to ASCII to discover what’s written.”
“You lost me at the second sentence, princess,” Ruby joked, but maintaining an interested smile on her face. “You know about these things?”
“I read a computer science book a few years ago. Out of curiosity, mainly.” Belle leaned over the counter, her eyes shining. “Ruby, do you have a computer I can use?” she asked, deciding to focus completely on the mystery. Maybe her secret admirer was exactly what she needed to get over these impossible feelings for Ruby.
Ruby smiled, and Belle always got a little distracted when she smiled that way - as if she were keeping a fun secret.
“Funny you should ask,” Ruby said, pointing to the laptop on the table and some scattered papers. “Just today I brought my laptop to organize the month’s finances. Grandma is forcing me to digitize everything.”
“Really?” Belle felt a wave of relief. “Can I use it?”
“Anything you want today is yours, birthday girl,” Ruby said, collecting the papers from the table to make space for Belle.
Belle observed with surgical precision Ruby’s fingers sliding through the documents, gathering all the papers precisely. When Ruby leaned over the table to reach some papers on the other side, Belle couldn’t help but notice how Ruby’s blouse neckline opened slightly, revealing the soft curve of her breasts.
Belle quickly looked away, feeling her face burn. Stop, she ordered herself. Stop looking at your best friend that way.
“But first, you need to have breakfast. I’m not going to let you solve mysteries on an empty stomach.”
Belle opened a small smile at the caring gesture, leaving the flowers on the bench beside her so they wouldn’t attack Ruby’s sensitive nose again. Ruby had always had a very keen sense of smell - she always knew when Granny was making something special in the kitchen before anyone else, always noticed when someone was wearing a different perfume. It made sense that a strong bouquet like that would bother her.
“Anything is fine,” she replied, pulling a chair to sit in front of the laptop. “I’m too anxious to eat properly.”
“Actually, I prepared something for you.” Ruby suddenly spoke, now having Belle’s complete attention.
“What?” Belle questioned, curious. Her heart accelerating a little in her chest.
“Wait a minute,” Ruby said suddenly, disappearing into the kitchen before Belle could protest.
Ruby disappeared into the kitchen, and Belle took advantage of the moment alone to try to compose herself. It was ridiculous how Ruby affected her. A simple innocent movement and Belle was practically hyperventilating.
It was time to discover who was really interested in her. It was time to stop fantasizing and start living in reality.
But Belle had known Ruby for years, and although there were moments - prolonged looks, special smiles, touches that lasted a little longer than necessary - Belle always assumed they were just manifestations of Ruby’s naturally warm personality. After all, Ruby was like this with everyone, wasn’t she?
Her thoughts were interrupted when Ruby returned from the kitchen, carrying a small tower of pancakes covered with fresh fruit and whipped cream, with a single lit candle stuck in the top. Belle forced herself to focus on the sweetness of the gesture instead of how Ruby looked absolutely stunning in the golden candlelight.
“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you…” Ruby began to sing softly, placing the little tower in front of Belle with a radiant smile.
Belle laughed, feeling her heart warm with the simple but genuinely affectionate gesture. For a few minutes, it seemed like only the two of them existed in the world. “Ruby…”
She found herself watching Ruby’s mouth move, the way her lips curved around the words.
Ruby leaned over the counter, resting her chin in her hands, getting close enough that Belle could see the small freckles dotting her nose, the way her dark eyelashes framed her green eyes. “Make a wish.”
Belle looked at the dancing candle, then at Ruby’s expectant face, illuminated by the small flame’s golden light. For a moment, she let herself imagine making the obvious wish - that Ruby would feel the same way about her that she felt about Ruby. But instead, she closed her eyes and wished for something safer: that she would discover who was behind that day’s mystery. Then she blew out the candle.
Ruby bent down at the counter and grabbed something from the cabinet, then rounded the counter. “Come here,” Ruby murmured, pulling Belle into her arms.
This hug was different from the first. Ruby held her tighter, her hands spreading across Belle’s back in a way that sent shivers down her entire spine. Belle could feel every inch of where their bodies touched - Ruby’s chest pressed against hers, Ruby’s hips lightly brushing against hers when she pulled her closer.
“Happy birthday, Belle,” Ruby murmured near her ear, her warm breath making Belle shiver involuntarily.
Then Ruby pulled back just enough to look into her eyes for a moment that seemed to last an eternity. There was something in Ruby’s look, something sweet and amused that made Belle stop breathing.
For a moment, Belle thought Ruby was really going to kiss her.
But then Ruby smiled and leaned in to deposit a soft kiss on Belle’s cheek, right in the corner near her ear. Her lips were soft and warm, and they remained there for a second longer than would be strictly necessary for a friendly kiss on the cheek.
Belle remained completely still, every nerve ending in her body focused on that point where Ruby touched her. Her heart was beating so hard she was sure Ruby could feel it.
When Ruby finally pulled away, Belle noticed she also seemed slightly breathless, her cheeks lightly flushed.
“Thank you,” Belle managed to murmur, unconsciously touching the place where Ruby had kissed her.
“Oh, I think I’d better give this to you,” Ruby said, clearly oblivious to Belle’s state of complete disconcertment, picking up a thick package she had discreetly left on the counter. “Before your admirer makes everything else uninteresting.”
“You would beat any admirer.” Belle said without thinking, the words coming out before she could censor them. She regretted it the instant she stopped speaking.
Ruby paused completely, the package half extended toward Belle. For a moment, something passed across Ruby’s face - surprise. But then she seemed to recover, shaking her head with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “You’re very sweet.”
‘Sweet’. ‘Sweet friend’. Damn.
Belle smiled at the compliment, ignoring the discomfort in her stomach and the tingling in her cheeks. With slightly trembling fingers, Belle opened the carefully decorated paper and almost gasped at what was inside: ‘The Collected Poetry of Emily Dickinson’ beautifully bound with a soft blue leather cover.
“Ruby…” Belle sighed, running her fingers over the cover with reverence. “This is hard to find.”
When Belle hugged her to thank her, Ruby held her a little tighter than necessary, her hands tracing soft patterns on Belle’s back.
“It’s perfect,” Belle murmured against Ruby’s shoulder, involuntarily inhaling her perfume.
“You’re welcome,” Ruby responded, caressing Belle’s back in a way that sent waves of heat through her body, then depositing a tender kiss on the smaller woman’s forehead.
The kiss on the forehead was soft but lingering, and Belle felt Ruby breathe deeply against her hair, as if she were memorizing her scent.
Belle blushed at the thought, separating a bit from Ruby to look at the laptop. This was already starting to hurt. “What’s your password again?”
She needed to focus. Maybe this was her only chance to get over this crush on Ruby.
“It’s ‘redbeauty’, all lowercase, no spaces.”
Belle typed the password, then looked at Ruby, getting a little distracted. “Redbeauty?”
“I don’t know, Emma made a joke one day…” Ruby shrugged, but Belle noticed a slight blush on her cheeks. “You’re killing me with curiosity about this code.”
“Oh yes!” Belle turned her attention back to the computer. “You’re distracting me.”
“With years of practice it doesn’t become difficult anymore.” Ruby joked.
Belle rolled her eyes, then opened an online binary code converter and began typing the numbers from the card. Ruby leaned over her shoulder to see better.
The proximity was immediate and overwhelming. Ruby positioned herself right behind Belle’s chair, her hands resting lightly on the back. Belle could feel the heat from Ruby’s body radiating against her back, her perfume enveloping her completely.
When Ruby leaned even closer to see the screen better, her hair brushed Belle’s neck, sending shivers across all her skin. Belle had to restrain herself from leaning back against Ruby’s body.
“You’re typing very fast,” Ruby observed, her voice too close to Belle’s ear, her warm breath making Belle tremble. “So… do you have any idea who it is?”
Belle could feel Ruby leaning even closer, almost as if she were curving over her. If Belle turned now, their faces would be inches apart.
“No,” Belle admitted, her voice coming out huskier than intended. Ruby’s proximity was doing impossible things to her concentration.
Ruby moved slightly, and Belle felt Ruby’s fingers “accidentally” brush her shoulder when she pointed at something on the screen. The touch was brief, but it sent an electric wave through Belle’s arm.
“Could you lend me a sheet of paper?” Belle managed to ask. “I want to write down the letters as they appear.”
“Sure,” Ruby said, walking to the counter and tearing a sheet from her notepad. “Here.”
Belle took the sheet, noticing that Ruby had torn it carefully, leaving the edges smooth. Small details like this always made her notice how thoughtful Ruby was.
“Alright,” Belle murmured, clicking convert. “First sequence: 01000110…”
The letter F appeared on the screen.
“F,” Belle wrote on the sheet, her excitement growing. “Next: 01101100…”
L appeared on the screen.
“L,” Belle wrote, and Ruby leaned even closer, her arm almost touching Belle’s.
“01101111… O. 01110010… R. 01101001… I.”
“F-L-O-R-I,” Belle read aloud, her heart racing. “Are you seeing this, Ruby?”
“It’s spelling something,” Ruby confirmed, and Belle noticed her voice was a bit lower than normal.
“01101111… O. 01100111… G. 01110010… R. 01100001… A. 01110000… P. 01101000… H. 01111001… Y.”
Belle stopped, staring at the sheet where she had written: F-L-O-R-I-O-G-R-A-P-H-Y.
“Floriography,” Belle said softly, turning in her chair to look at Ruby — and realizing too late that Ruby was still leaning very close to her.
Their faces were inches apart, their breaths mingling. Belle could see every detail of Ruby’s green eyes, the way her lips parted slightly in surprise at the sudden proximity.
For a moment, neither of them moved. Belle felt as if she were balanced on the edge of a precipice, her heart beating so hard she was sure Ruby could hear it.
Ruby visibly swallowed, her eyes briefly dropping to Belle’s lips before returning to her eyes.
“What is florigraphy?” Ruby asked, trying to sound casual.
Belle had to clear her throat before she could answer. “It’s the language of flowers,” she managed to say, very aware of how Ruby still hadn’t moved away. “In the nineteenth century, people used different flowers to send secret messages.”
“Really?” Ruby asked, and Belle noticed she seemed genuinely interested. “So the flowers in your bouquet…” She left it open, finally straightening up, but not before Belle noticed how her eyes lingered on her lips once more.
Belle felt her entire body heat up and all that warmth accumulate in the lower part of her abdomen, making her most sensitive area pulse. She cursed mentally. Ruby had glanced quickly at her lips and made Belle feel her panties dampen.
“Have specific meanings,” Belle finished, standing up from the chair because if she stayed there one more second she would do something that could ruin everything. “Ruby, this is incredible! Someone didn’t just send me beautiful flowers, they sent me a coded message!”
Ruby smiled, watching Belle’s obvious excitement. “You’re loving this, aren’t you?”
“I am!” Belle admitted, picking up a rather large piece of pancake. “Sorry, I’m eating too fast, but I need to go to the library to get the book about florigraphy.”
“Take it easy, Sherlock Holmes,” Ruby laughed, and Belle noticed how her eyes seemed lighter when she laughed. “The flowers aren’t going to change their meaning if you take five more minutes.”
Belle forced herself to sit again and eat slowly, but her mind was racing. “Ruby, do you have any idea who might know about florigraphy in Storybrooke?”
Ruby shrugged, cleaning some crumbs from the table. “Not many people, I imagine. You’re the smartest person I know - if you needed to research it, most people wouldn’t even know where to start.”
“So it has to be someone who studied this, or someone who knew where to research,” Belle thought aloud. “And someone who knows me well enough to know I’d be intrigued instead of confused.”
“Seems like you have a very intelligent admirer,” Ruby said, and Belle carefully observed her expression.
Still nothing. Ruby seemed genuinely happy about the possibility of Belle having found someone special. No sign of discomfort or jealousy.
Belle felt a mixture of relief and disappointment. Relief because she finally had a definitive answer - Ruby really didn’t feel anything romantic for her. Disappointment for the same reasons.
“Yeah,” Belle agreed, finishing the pancakes. “And I hope to find out who it is.”
“I’m sure you will,” Ruby said. “You always figure everything out.”
Belle felt a familiar warmth spread through her chest at the tone of confidence in Ruby’s voice. This is what she would lose if she found someone - this unwavering confidence Ruby had in her, this genuine admiration for her intelligence.
But maybe it was time to find someone who admired her intelligence and wanted to kiss her too.
“Thanks for breakfast and the computer,” Belle said, picking up the bouquet and organizing her things. “You saved my morning.”
“Always,” Ruby replied, and the simplicity of the response made Belle pause for a moment.
The word echoed in Belle’s mind. Always. As if it weren’t even a question. As if Ruby would always be there when Belle needed her, without hesitation, without conditions.
It was simultaneously the most comforting and most painful thing Belle could imagine.
“I… I’m going to the library,” Belle said, heading for the door. “I need to find out what these flowers are trying to tell me.”
“Good luck,” Ruby said, starting to clean the table. “And Belle?”
Belle stopped at the door, turning to look at Ruby one last time. “Yes?”
“You’re coming back here later, right?” Ruby asked, leaning the side of her body against the counter.
Belle felt that familiar warmth spread through her chest, mixed with an affection so deep it almost hurt. Ruby was trying to sound unconcerned, but Belle could see the subtle tension in her shoulders, the way she nervously played with the edge of the apron.
“Of course,” Belle smiled, a wave of affection flooding her. Then, unable to resist, she chose her next words precisely, savoring the moment. “I would never miss my surprise party.”
Ruby’s smile remained in place for exactly two seconds while her brain processed the words. Belle watched with growing amusement as Ruby’s expression changed from satisfaction to confusion, then to complete shock.
“Wait, what?!” Ruby exclaimed, straightening completely, her eyes widening in a way that was simultaneously indignant and adorable. “How do you know?!”
“I didn’t, it’s called bluffing.” Belle admitted with a mischievous smile that made Ruby groan and cover her face with her hands. “What time should I arrive?”
“I’m going to kill you,” Ruby murmured through her fingers. “Seriously, you don’t miss anything! You’re so smart it’s annoying. I think I hate you,” she spoke quickly, an adorable irritation.
Belle laughed even more, tilting her head to the side. “No you don’t,” she said confidently. “I’ll practice a surprised face when I get here at…”
“Seven.” Ruby grumbled, removing her hands from her face and running them slowly through her dark strands.
Belle’s throat went dry. She admired that scene with precision, getting a bit lost in that moment. She drew breath then smiled satisfied.
“Thank you.” She murmured, turning to leave.
As she left Granny’s, Belle felt as if she were leaving something important behind. But maybe that’s what she needed to do - leave behind impossible fantasies and focus on real possibilities.
Her secret admirer had created an elaborate mystery specifically for her. Someone was really interested. Someone who had studied her interests, understood her personality, gone to the trouble of creating something unique and special.
It was more than Ruby had ever offered, no matter how much Belle wished otherwise.
With the bouquet in one hand and the sheet with ‘FLORIGRAFIA’ in the other, Belle headed to the library, determined to discover who really wanted to be with her, unaware that she was being watched through Granny’s window by a pair of green eyes that shone with affection and a touch of nervousness.
The game had only just begun.