Hello everyone! Seeing as I eventually came to the conclusion that if I didn't publish SOMETHING I wouldn't publishing ANYTHING, here is the first chapter of my little project. Enjoy!

Belle smiled as she sat at her dressing table, hearing the clock strike midnight. A magical hour. Truth be told, I'm not feeling very magical, she thought to herself, glancing wryly at her daintily shod feet peeping from the hem of her dress. The delicate gold slippers which had looked so beautiful on her feet when she donned them this morning were now a source of irritation, as a full night's dancing in them had left her feet sore and swollen.

But oh what a night!

The servants, the lords and ladies, all who had been transformed were now human again. They had attended the wedding and the following ball in their gayest clothes, marveling at how well they looked in their human forms. There had been every reason for joy, laughing, and feasting. The curse was broken, their master was reformed, and his marriage to Belle was celebrated greatly, for the young woman had worked her way into everyone's heart through her kindness, her intelligence, and that spirit that sparked so brightly within her.

There was a knock on the door, bringing Belle out of her reverie.

"Come in," she called with a smile, even as Ms. Potts and Madame Armoire entered.

"Oh Belle dear what a glorious evening!" Madame Armoire proclaimed, "I have not danced so in years! And I do believe quite a few of the men noticed that I remain as ever quite in step with the music! Of course I don't blame the other ladies one bit, for I have a natural talent for dancing, I have little need for practice!"

"Oh come now Madame," Ms. Potts chided the other women gently, "Can't you see our mistress is quite exhausted? Come Belle, let us help you with your things."

Belle willingly surrendered to their ministrations. She was in no mood to reach the lacings on her dress or stays, and she would have as soon as fallen asleep in her panniers. She listened fondly to their chatter as they divested her of all her clothing except her chemise. When they had finished, Ms. Potts sat her back down to brush her hair, and Madame Armoire excused herself, claiming a need for beauty rest.

"I do believe this was the best ball the master has ever thrown," Ms. Potts declared as the door shut behind Madame Armoire.

"I hope everyone else enjoyed themselves," Belle said with a smile, "I most certainly did. Surrounded by friends, my father, Adam…it was a perfect night."

Ms. Potts hesitated a moment, "But for a newly married couple, we hope it is not over quite yet?"

"I –" Belle began, and fought a blush. The ball continued unabated downstairs; the sounds of the guests wafted from the open windows of the ballroom. Adam, she supposed, was still down there.

You look tired, he'd told her gently, about an hour ago; Go and get some rest. I'll come to you later.

She had colored then, almost as deeply as she was blushing now. She'd waved her fan furiously, hoping he would attribute it to the heat of the ballroom. She'd mumbled some agreement and had fled the scene.

"Adam said he would come later, after I had rested," she answered quietly.

"Belle, dearie, you do….you do know what happens between a husband and wife?" Ms. Potts asked with concern.

"Of course," Belle answered quickly, "I read about it in a book…."

Her voice faded away, and she wondered if she should have mentioned that. Ms. Potts only chuckled.

"Of course you did, love. I do hope you're not nervous? I know you haven't a mother to explain these things to you, and I'd gladly stand in her place if you have any need of me."

"No, I'm not nervous," Belle told her, again a little too quickly, and not meeting her eyes. Fool, Belle chided herself, it is a natural process, carried out by all animals in the world. It is necessary for the begetting of children. Hundreds, millions of women have gone through it before me, and many more will after. It will not do to be afraid.

Ms. Potts patted her head gently, "You'll be alright, dearie. With love and trust, everything will work out. And Adam loves you very much."

"I know," Belle said quietly. Ms. Potts smiled and kissed the top of her head with motherly affection.

"I best take myself off then, these bones are too old for such excitement as we've had tonight. I'll see you in the morning."

Once Ms. Potts had gone, Belle wandered, wondering what to do with herself before Adam arrived. He had told her to rest. But if he was to come to her later…how would she do it? Shouldn't she seem appealing when he arrived?

First she tried getting in bed. Her normal position of sleep, on her stomach, felt too sloppy. How would she look if Adam came in and woke her up? She switched to lying on her back.

"Sleeping Beauty," she pronounced, closing her eyes. Lying there, stretched out, felt so unnatural. She crossed her arms over her chest and grinned to herself.

"A corpse….Juliet, whom Romeo believes to be dead."

She abandoned the bed.

She tried to make herself comfortable in the large armchair, but found she either curled up as a child within it, or was in danger of drooling if she fell asleep sitting with her head propped up on her fist.

"Chair, you are uncouth," she informed it as she vacated the seat.

There was the settee. She draped herself over it, like Cleopatra once did, after having held a snake to her breast. She threw herself upon it, a romance heroine despondent without her lover. She lay upon it with her gaze directed towards the door, Delilah waiting to beckon her Samson.

"Oh forget it!" Belle snapped to herself, losing patience. She crawled into the window seat and drew her knees up to her chest. She looked down, leaning her head against the cool glass. The ball had spilled out from the ballroom onto the large balcony. Even in winter, so many people gathered together made the ballroom uncomfortably warm. There were still many people dancing, cavorting, gathering in joyous groups. Belle smiled to herself, and felt her eyelids begin to droop.

Adam leaned against the wall of the corridor and took a deep breath. He had narrowly escaped Lumière and Cogsworth as they had brought out yet more champagne. He would not be drunk tonight, not this first night of his marriage.

He looked down the hall, to the first of the steps to the upper stories of the castle. Anticipation gripped him. His first kiss with Belle, the one he had given her when he became human, had been a pure expression of joy. But every one after that had been filled with love, and not a little lust. Today, after the priest had bound their fates together, Adam had wanted nothing more than to continue that kiss which made her his, and carry her away immediately to the nearest private room.

But he was not a beast, not anymore. He could and would restrain himself. He believed he had performed most admirably. Throughout the ball there had been a kiss here or there which had sorely tested his resolve, but all in all he had been gracious to his guests and chastely attentive to his new wife. Now, however, the time had almost come.

He was nervous.

In the years when other boys of his age and rank would be exploring passions with servants and peasant girls, he had hated himself, his body, the grotesque spectacle he saw every time he caught a glance of his reflection. The only passion within his breast had been his own self-disgust.

Adam stopped in front of a mirror hanging on a landing. He preened a little, then turned away in disgust.

"Belle loved you before this," he reminded himself through clenched teeth, "Remember Gaston. She is equally capable of hating you, despite your new appearance."

Oh, he was caught. The thought of Belle's smooth skin against his fought with the fear of how she would react to his lovemaking. What if he hurt her? What if she too was scared, and did not want him to touch her? What if his lack of experience was to blame? Although Lumière had sought to remedy that problem, with a series of theatrical talks in which he tried to impart to the prince his own carefully acquired knowledge of the female body….

Adam stopped in front of a window, and gazed at a more shadowed reflection of himself.

"If Belle does not wish me to touch her this night, I will not," he promised the reflection, "I will lay at the far end of the bed, I will sleep in her armchair, I will wait until she is prepared to accept me."

The vision came unbidden of Belle naked before him and he bit his thumb to remind himself of his resolve.

One more flight of stairs, and he would reach the third floor. Twenty more steps and he would be outside her door. A few scant inches, and his fingers would clasp the handle. It turned easily, before he could decide if he should knock first. It was too late; he was in the room, the door clicking quietly close behind him.

And there was Belle.

She'd fallen asleep on her window seat, breathing quietly. He admired her beauty, careless, unrefined, the beauty of a tranquil, uncivilized land. This was when she was most beautiful – not when she was jeweled and bedecked in silk, but when she might have been a forest sprite who existed free from the eyes of humankind.

And he wanted her.

That mouth, uncontrived and easily given to smiles, would just as easily cry out in unguarded pleasure. Those eyes, which read another's darkest secrets as easily as they challenged and teased, could darken and close with desire. Perhaps she would be shy, but beneath that he knew her heart was passionate.

Adam took a calming breath, and went to gently wake Belle.

Belle felt the warm hand on her shoulder and opened her eyes, smiling as Adam sat near her on the window seat. He answered with a smile of his own, taking her hands in one of his, and using his other hand to smooth a few strands of hair away from her face.

"I'm sorry to disturb your sleep, my love," he said quietly, and Belle felt a thrill from the deep rumble of his voice. This was not a tone he had not used before; it was one that she knew did not belong in public for all their friends to hear. It was low, warm, and….expectant.

"You did not disturb me," she informed him with a shy smile, "I was waiting for you."

He kissed her. It was soft and gentle, a mere brushing of the lips. His hands stayed passively where they had been. He kissed her again, just as softly. The third time, his face ducked and he kissed her neck, just below the corner of her jaw. She gasped. The hand that had been touching her face slid down to cup the back of her neck as he drew back to look at her.

"You know what will happen?" he asked, and his breath was faster than it had been before.

"I read in a book…" she tried to tell him, but her own mind was less focused than it had been before.

"Then you must promise me…."he paused, hesitating, then speaking faster, "You must promise me to tell me if it hurts, or if there's…anything you don't like."

"I'm not afraid," she told him, "I trust you."

He gave her a wry smile, "It is quite a thing to trust a man in a situation such as this."

"You're not just any man," Belle replied, "And I find you wonderful in all things. Because I love you."

She could not describe the look he gave her, only that it made her gut clench and her skin felt feverish. The hand at her neck brought her closer, and the other hand fastened around her waist to the same purpose. Her chest was pressed against his as he tilted her head and his kisses changed. They were not longer gentle and chaste, they demanded, they plundered. Belle drew her head back to catch a breath, to try to analyze the heated feelings running through her body. She had no time to do so; Adam was kissing down her neck, then the center of her chest, then the soft flesh at the tops of her breasts. One of his hands was at the middle of her back, holding her, while the older was moving possessively down towards her backside. He was too big, too strong, she was overwhelmed…

"Adam –"

The gasp of his name brought his lips back to hers. He gently pulled her up, and still kissing her, lead her to the bed. As he gently guided her to lie on the bed next to him, her breath quickened, but this time with some apprehension.

"Don't worry," he whispered, kissing her cheek just in front of her ear and stroking her arm from shoulder to elbow, "We won't….Not yet."

"Adam?" she began timidly.

"Yes?" he asked, leaning back to look down at her. She found she had trouble meeting his eyes.

"Could….could you blow out the candles?"

Without another word he stood and swept around the room, extinguishing all the candles until only the faint starlight gave faint illumination to the room. Belle felt herself begin to panic slightly, in the dark, amongst the unknown, and wondered if it had been wise to save her modestly in the darkness. Then Adam returned to her side and renewed his caresses, and thought became harder and harder to maintain.

There was no more light to cast judgment on her actions. Devoid of sight, she only became more attuned to sensation. And the sensation was Adam, lying full on top of her, again kissing his way down her neck and chest, this time his hands rising up her rib cage, and his harsh breathing filling the room.

His hands suddenly cupped her breasts and she gasped as the material of her chemise moved, was drawn against her tight nipples. He buried his face between her breasts and she felt a pull down in her gut, and squirmed at the feel of his breath against her skin there. He exhaled sharply and brought his mouth to her nipple, sucking it through the fabric as the other hand kneaded her on the other side. It was strange, new, and she didn't know what to do with the urgency that was slowly building inside her.

His mouth gave a gentle tug and Belle could not escape the small sound that escaped her mouth, or the way her hips suddenly jerked, bringing them into contact in another place.

Adam groaned and he abandoned her breasts, his mouth now sucking her neck, his weight resting on his forearms as he thrust his pelvis against hers. Something hard in his trousers rubbed against something sensitive under her chemise, and this time her cry was louder.

Adam broke away from her mouth long enough to mutter a short oath, but before she could ask him if anything was wrong he was kissing her mouth again, with more force than ever before.

He's trying to devour me, she thought a little wildly, only faintly aware of his hand stroking her bare leg, reaching up under her chemise.

Her next cry was caught in his mouth as his fingers came up between her legs. For just a moment she was horrified by the wetness she suddenly perceived there. All thought fled her as his fingers moved just slightly upwards and touched something which made her whole body jump.

"Belle," he groaned in her ear.

"Adam," she gasped, completely at mercy to the feeling of his fingers moving between her legs, "Adam….oh!"

His fingers stopped their motion and Belle thought she would die if they did not continue.

"Adam, please!" Was this pleasure? Just now she would almost call it pain, as her body tightened and screamed for….something!

"I can make it better," his voice whispered huskily into her ear. She could feel his arm move, he was fumbling with his trousers, "Do you want that?"

"Adam, yes, please!" she didn't care, she wasn't afraid anymore, there was this feeling inside her and she didn't know what to do about it. She needed Adam.

"Kiss me, love," he whispered, and she brought his face to her own, kissing him desperately. His fingers returned to that place under her chemise, and there was something else there too. It didn't matter, she arched into his fingers, needing some sort of relief from this torment.

He pushed into her.

She gasped, her wildness gone for a moment, not sure of this strange new feeling, the slight pain that accompanied it. Adam was breathing harshly near her ear, his whole body now tense. There was a moment of stillness. And then Adam thrust into her. Belle made another little noise and raised her hands to brace against the headboard.

"Belle," Adam hissed, his voice as desperate with need as hers had been a moment before. One of his hands snaked between their bodies, back to that nub, stroking in time to his thrusts. Belle felt the building urgency again, heard Adam's breathing going faster, she did not recognize the noises coming out of her own mouth.

A wave came over her and she writhed, she arched her back, her muscles tightened as her bodied tried to accept the lightening which now shot through every fiber of her being. She was almost unaware of Adam stiffening above her, groaning as he gave his final thrusts into her.

Adam collapsed on top of her, and Belle tried to collect her breathing, waiting for the last sparks of lightening to fade away.

After a moment, Adam rolled off her, but did not leave. He gathered her to him, and she was engulfed by his arms and legs, his chin resting on the top of her head. She needed a new type of contact now, and she snuggled into his chest. But what to say? What to say when the earth was no longer solid, the air was fire, and this, here, was the only thing that mattered?

"Adam?"

"Yes?"

"I love you."

He pulled her closer, "I love you too, ma belle."