The Bench
By Thomas Mc

Author's Note: On a trip to New York an fan of the TV show stops to rest on a certain park bench. In New York you never know where a simple act like that can lead. (This little bit of fluff is dedicated to all the true fans of the BntB TV show)

The small group of friends looked down at the bench that held a special meaning for them. It looked like any of the other benches that dotted Central Park with the exception of the small metal plaque on the top back board that set it apart as an icon, a shrine to a fanciful TV show that had lasted just a bit over two seasons. They had just spent a long day at the convention dedicated to that show and had decided to catch a few of the iconic sights in the park, that had been featured so much in that show, before heading back to the hotel for the night.

She looked at her friends, all fans of that TV show, and sat down on this very special bench. The long day at the con had taken a lot out of her and it felt good to sit down. She had heard whispered rumors, spoken half in jest, that those who sat in this bench could sometimes feel the presence of the two characters that the TV series had revolved around. She didn't feel anything unusual, only relief to be off her feet for a few moments. She smiled up at her friends. "Take my picture."

Two of her friends pulled out their cameras and snapped a couple of pictures. Then the rest of her friends took turns sitting on the bench and being photographed. They even got a passing stranger to take a picture of all of them gathered around the bench. Then they were ready to move on.

She was so tired and her feet were aching. "I think I want to sit here for a little while. Why don't you go on without me for a little while?"

"Are you sure?" One of her friends responded. "Don't you want someone to stay here with you?"

"No. It's been a long day and I just need to rest a while and think. This bench seems to be the perfect place for that." She replied. "Maybe you can swing back by here in about an hour."

"Are you sure about this? I'll be happy to stay with you." Another of her friends offered.

"No, no, you go on and have fun." She glanced around at the steady stream of people passing by. "I'll be just fine here." She smiled up at her friends. "Besides, ever since I heard about this bench, I've wanted to spend a little time just sitting here and thinking."

A bit reluctantly the rest of her friends acceded to her wishes and headed on after promising to be back in an hour to pick her up.

~ o ~

For a while she just sat there enjoying the ambiance and watching the other people pass by. She smiled at them and some smiled back in return. After a while she began thinking about the TV show that had spawned today's convention. She had been a fan of the show and the stories written by other fans for a while now. As her interest in fandom had developed, she had found herself firmly in that subset of fans that considered the pitifully short third season to be an aberration that had never happened. Those like herself only accepted the first two seasons of the show, referring to it as classic "Beauty and the Beast". To them Catherine lived and they had eventually found their happy life together.

The show had affected her life in many ways. She had made several friends through the circle of the show's fans that she was now part of. The show had influenced her attitudes about love and relationships. It had given her an example to follow in her own behavior as well as a, rather high benchmark by which to judge the type of people she chose as friends.

She sat there quietly contemplating all the various ways that a simple TV show had impacted her life. The summer evening heat combined with her own weariness eventually conspired to make her feel drowsy. She checked her watch. It had been a little over half-an-hour since her friends had wandered off.

~ o ~

She awoke with a start and was immediately aware that it was after dark. She was alone in the park after dark. What had happened to her friends? Why had they not come back to get her? She jumped up, and quickly started back for the hotel. She hadn't gone very far when she realized that the area around her was all wrong. She was lost. She decided that she must have headed off in the wrong direction so she turned around and retraced her steps. She needed to get back to the bench so she could get herself oriented correctly. Then she would be able to figure out the correct route back to the hotel.

She didn't find the bench where she expected. With the beginnings of panic driving her, she frantically searched the area, looking for that one bench that would tell her where in the park she was. With each bench that turned out to be the wrong one, her panic grew. This couldn't be happening. How could she have gotten so thoroughly lost? Why had her friends abandoned her?

She heard the sound of several male voices and, with a sense of relief, started to head toward them. Then she began to catch the very crude language as well as the unpleasant subject of their talk and stopped. The voices were still getting closer. Desperately she looked around for a place to hide. She ducked into a large clump of bushes and crouched down. Soon the source of those voices appeared. There were four of them and they looked just as unpleasant as they sounded. She held her breath and prayed that they wouldn't notice her.

They walked right past her position and kept on going, totally unaware that she was there, and soon disappeared from sight. She released the breath she had been holding rather explosively. Her legs were so rubbery that she had to sit down on the ground for a moment to regain her composure.

Finally she had herself under control and was able to stand up. She looked around. In front of her was one of the many pathways that crisscrossed the park. Behind her the ground sloped downward into some type of gully. She decided that if she got on the path and just kept walking, she would eventually end up at a road or at a recognizable landmark.

As she stepped out of the clump of bushes, her foot caught on something and she went down hard. Then she was sliding and rolling uncontrollably down the slopping ground. Her head hit something very hard and she lay there stunned, head throbbing and quite literally seeing bright colorful stars flashing before her eyes.

As the stars faded, she became aware of a shape looming over her but her vision was too blurry to make it out. She tried to get up but only managed to move a few inches before falling back groaning, her head spinning, as she was overcome with a wave of dizziness.

A vaguely familiar voice came from the shape above her. "Take it easy, you're probably suffering from a concussion." A short pause. "This is not a good place to be. I need to get you to someplace safe." Then she felt herself being lifted up off the ground. She was still too dazed and confused to do more than note the fact that she was being carried by a large strong individual that she could not see clearly. She experienced a sharp spurt of fear when she realized that she could not see a face inside the deep hood that concealed it.

"Please don't be afraid. I won't harm you. I'm only taking you somewhere safe. We have a doctor there that can treat your injury." The figure told her in an all too familiar voice as he carried her into a large round drainage tunnel. Somewhere in the back of her mind a random thought tickled at her. 'Drainage tunnels like this don't really exist in Central Park.'

It was impossible . . . it wasn't real . . . she must be hallucinating. It's only a TV show, it's not real. They stopped moving and she made out iron bars in the very dim light then she heard a grinding noise and saw section of concrete moving sideways. Then the bars swung out of her field of view. They moved through an opening then she felt herself swaying sideways. There was a metallic clang followed almost immediately by the grinding noise.

Her mind seemed to be clearing a bit. She shifted her attention away from the deep hood to where she felt his hands curled around her thigh and ribs, almost afraid of what she might see.

Claws! Fur covered fingers ending in claws. Impossible! It was only a TV show that had been canceled twenty years ago. She looked back up at the hood trying to remain calm. "Vincent?"

He stopped and she felt his whole body tremble.

"Vincent, is that really you?" She glanced down and touched one of the claws on the hand that was curled around her thigh just to verify that it really was there. Her left arm was pinned between his body and hers but her right arm was unencumbered. "The claws are real." She looked back up at the concealing hood. "Please, if you really are Vincent, tell me."

"How do you know my name?" The incredible voice asked.

She stared up in surprised wonder. Then she slowly reached up with her free arm and, though he flinched just slightly, both his arms were full of her and he couldn't really stop her from pushing his hood back. She was overcome with a sense of overwhelming wonder. "It is you! You're real!"

She was looking up at the subject of her obsession and even a few of her daydreams. He was looking down at her with his impossibly intense blue eyes that registered surprise. Then her head began to spin and her vision seemed to blur. She blinked, trying to clear her vision. As the throbbing at the back of her head increased.

"Hang in there." He took off moving again, moving much faster than before.

The next few minutes were a haze of shifting stone tunnels and movement, with an occasional glimpse of Vincent's leonine face. She blinked again as she took in the surrounding rock walls. She turned her slightly fuzzy attention on Vincent. "You're taking me to see Father aren't you?"

Again Vincent glanced down at her with that startled look on face. Then dizziness again swept over her as his face and their surroundings all began to blur together, fading in and out of focus while her head continued to throb.

The next time she was again aware of her surroundings there was pressure around her head and a feeling of cold at the back of her head and she smelled the distinct odor of burning candle wax. She opened her eyes and saw rock walls all around and the lighting had a slight flickering effect.

She heard a scraping sound to her left. She turned her head and saw a woman standing up that looked so much like an older version of Linda Hamilton that she blurted out. "Catherine Chandler?"

The woman appeared to study her. "Have we met?"

"No, not really." She looked around. She appeared to be in a generic underground chamber. She was finally beginning to accept that maybe this was all real.

At that moment a much younger version of Vincent burst into the chamber. "Mom is the new woman . . ." He skidded to a stop as he became aware of her scrutiny.

She stared in total delight at the young approximately ten year old copy of Vincent as a huge irresistible grin plastered itself across her face. "You did it. You and Vincent finally worked it all out and got together."

The leonine child shyly at first but with increasing assurance returned her grin until all four of his long canines were clearly visible. "Hi." He finally greeted her.

Surprisingly her grin got even wider. "Hello to you, too."

At that point Vincent entered the chamber followed by Jacob Wells. Vincent took a position beside Catherine while Jacob Wells, AKA Father, came over to the strange woman and sat down in the chair that Catherin had just recently occupied. He leaned forward and carefully examined her injuries as he spoke. "Well, young woman, you had a concussion and you have been out of it for nearly twelve hours." After a few moments he nodded and continued. "It looks like the swelling is going down." He paused again as he checked her ankle. "Just a sprain, not to serious." He gently removed the cold pack from around her head. "You should still take it easy for a day or so, but you should be just fine." He sat back and looked at the woman for a moment then he spoke again. "Now, perhaps you can explain how it is that we have never met you yet you seem to know about us."

She looked from Vincent to Catherine to the younger leonine male to Father. "I don't think you will believe me. But then again I'm still trying to convince myself that all of this is real." She paused a moment. "In my world there is no such person as Catherine Chandler or Jacob Wells and I've never even heard rumors of anyone like Vincent. You are all characters in an old TV show that went off the air twenty years ago."

She looked around at her stunned audience then began a description of the Beauty and the Beast television show. Being a fairly devoted fan of the show, she was able to give a reasonably good synopsis of the first two seasons. She didn't even mention what her and her friends referred to as 'the season that shall not be mentioned', though she did include the resolution of the second season cliffhanger in her recitation.

Next she told them about the world wide fan phenomenon and the explosion of fan fiction, all built around the show. Over the next couple of hours they listened to her stories in rapt attention. Finally she ended up with a description of the fan convention that she and her friends had been attending just before winding up here in the tunnels. After she had finished there was total silence that was finally broken by the arrival of William with a tray full of food.

William looked in surprise at the silent chamber then cleared his throat, breaking the silence. "Its lunch time and I thought our new mystery guest might be hungry." His eyes swept the others in the room. "I brought enough for everyone. Charles, help me with this."

The young leonine jumped to help William. The woman couldn't help a small chuckle. Charles was second only to Jacob as the name most often given to male offspring of Catherine and Vincent in the fan fiction stories.

After William left, they all dug in. She was amazed at how good William's stew was. The woman asked what their reality was like. Vincent began by comparing his reality to the TV show that she had described to them. There were a lot of discrepancies but there were a lot of similarities. What surprised her the most, was that most of her favorite episodes echoed what had happened here pretty closely. Then they then began telling her about what had occurred after the point where the second season ended.

The story they told her seemed to contain elements from dozens of the fan fiction stories that she had read. It was an incredible story full of adventure and the fulfillment of love that could not be denied. It was like a dream for her, a fan's fantasy come true. The ultimate fan-fiction story.

They were interrupted by the arrival of a pretty young teenager carrying a tray full of food. The woman was surprised to realize that it was dinner time. She had completely lost track of the passage of time as she had listened to their stories.

Vincent quickly moved to help her with the large tray of food. "Thank-you, Caroline." He told her.

"You're welcome, Daddy." The girl replied then she and Charles left the chamber. They had other plans for the evening.

The woman grinned. Again, one of the more popular names for a female offspring. Because of their recital of their history, she also new knew of their two other children, Jacob and Margaret. The name Jacob had brought another chuckle from her but the name Margaret had surprised her though she could understand where it must have come from.

As they ate their dinner the woman told them about some of the more interesting things she remembered from the few fan conventions that she had managed to attend and the good friends she had made through the fan groups. After the meal the conversation shifted to what her life was like in her world.

They talked for a while longer then Vincent suggested that it would be dark soon and that they should get their guest back up to the park before it got too late.

"But I don't even know if I will be able to get back where I belong." The woman complained.

Catherine responded. "If you find that you can't get back where you belong, you already know where and how to find us and you will always be welcome here."

~ o ~

As they made their way through the tunnels, the woman noticed the package that Vincent was carrying. "What is that?" She asked pointing to the bag.

Vincent glanced down at the package. "It's just a small gift for a friend. As long as I was heading this way I thought I could drop this off as well." He glanced over at her to see her gazing back at him. "I find it so strange that a whole world knows of our existence and even celebrate our most important holiday." He shook his head. "I always find it amazing enough that Catherine loves me just the way I am, then you come along and tell me that I am nearly a sex symbol to a whole convention full of women from all over the world."

"Oh you're more than just a sex symbol to people like me. You represent all that is best in a man. You are what we all are searching for and most of us actually consider your appearance to be the icing on the cake. One writer was even nearly ostracized for having you turn into a normal looking man in her story." She laughed. "There are a lot of women that think you look quite attractive just the way you are. Why shouldn't Catherine be one of them?"

They walked for a way in silence as Vincent mulled over what she had said.

She began to get tired and her ankle had begun to hurt. Father had said that she had twisted it when she fell down that slope in the park. Vincent stopped and picked her up then continued toward their destination. She sighed. She could easily get used to this. After a short time she began to get drowsy.

~ o ~

She woke up with a start as someone gently shook her shoulder. "Are we there already, Vincent?"

"What did you say?" It was the voice of one of her friends accompanied by several others giggling.

Her eyes flew open in surprise to see all of her friends standing around her. "Where have you been?" She asked.

"Walking around the park." Replied another of the friends.

But you were gone so long and it was dark and I got lost . . ." She paused as she took in the incomprehension on the faces of her friends.

"We were only gone for a few minutes over an hour, just like we told you." Replied the second friend who then looked closer. "That must have been a doozy of a dream you had."

She shook her head. Now in the bright evening light she realized how ridiculous it had been. Just a dream. "Yea, you're right it was a real doozy of dream alright. It's getting late and I'm a bit tired. I guess we should be heading back to the hotel."

"Where did you get that?" The third friend asked, pointing to the park bench beside her.

She looked down and was surprised to see a package just like the one Vincent had been carrying in her dream. She opened it up and inside was one perfect white rose and a Winterfest candle. There was also a small card. Her hand shook as she opened the card to read it.

.

A small gift to our newest friend.
Though our paths may never cross
again, we will always remember you.

~V~

.

It was impossible. It had only been a dream. She stood up and felt a twinge in her ankle as she felt suddenly slightly dizzy. She put her hand to her head and felt a still painful lump in the back. It was only a TV show, wasn't it? She again looked at the package in her hand.

A secret smile spread across her face as she savored the very special memory of her half hour dream that had apparently lasted an entire day. Finally she answered. "This is just a present from a new friend."

THE END

'Beauty and the Beast' and its characters are owned by Witt-Thomas Productions and Republic Pictures. No infringement on copyrights is intended. This story is presented merely for the enjoyment of fans. Original concepts and story elements may be used by other authors as long as appropriate credit is given.