Tumblebrutus pushed the door to the village bookstore open. He'd greeted the baker as he came through town and had heard whispers as he passed, but he'd gotten better at ignoring them. He glanced around for the bookseller, "Hello? Alonzo?"

Alonzo came out from behind the counter, a stack of books in his arms that covered his face. "Oh, Tumble?" he asked, without even having to look at him.

"Yes, it's me. I came to return the book I borrowed. Can I give you a hand with those?"

Alonzo dumped the pile and offered Tumble a grin. "No, this is fine. Already though? You've finished the book so quickly?" He took the top few books off the stack and went to put them away.

"I couldn't put it down," the younger man put the book away where he knew it went. "You don't happen to have anything new in, do you?"

"Not since yesterday," Alonzo replied, laughing.

Tumble grinned sheepishly at that, "I do come in rather often, don't I?" His gaze flickered over the shelves, before he withdrew a particular volume, "Might I borrow this one?"

"Haven't you read that one twice?" Alonzo asked, arching a brow. "Or was it three times?"

"Four," Tumble answered. "But it is a favorite, far off places, daring swordfights, magic spells, a prince in disguise! I mean, really, it's everything that's...well, not here." His voice trailed off by the end of the sentence, realizing how that could sound.

Alonzo arched a brow at him, going back for a few more books. "Come on, there are things here," he started. "... Some things anyway," he muttered, shoving a book in it's place. "One of these days you're going to realize daring sword fights and magic spells aren't all that. Nor are princes."

Tumble sighed, leaning against one of the shelves, "I know. I guess, I don't know, I've been missing my old home again. I feel trapped here, Alonzo. It's...adorably provincial, but there's got to be more, you know?"

Glancing over at him, Alonzo sighed before nodding. "I know. God, how long as it even been since you two got here?"

"Five years." Tumble answered, "four months, and twelve days."

Alonzo's brows shot up. "You're rather specific there."

"I calculated it out a couple of weeks ago when I had nothing else to do. Again. And God, I sound like I hate the place, don't I? I don't mean to. I really do like this town, it's just..." He sighed, "I don't know."

"Not much to do?" Alonzo offered.

"And people look at me like I'm going to turn into my father, which isn't as bad a thing as they seem to think."

"No, it probably wouldn't be," Alonzo agreed, another book going back to its place, the pile already getting smaller.

"I just don't understand people around here. I mean, I tried to be friendly, I really did. I don't interact especially well, and I know my father hasn't helped that, but..."

"They're close minded," Alonzo said with a shrug. "That's not your fault."

"I know, I just wish there was something to be done about it, you know?"

Sighing, Alonzo nodded. "You know, if you like that book so much, you can just keep it," he offered. "Though," he waved a finger under Tumble's nose. "I am making you pay for books one of these days."

"I..." his eyes widened, "Thank you! And I promise to start paying for them one of these days too."

Alonzo rolled his eyes and shook his head, waving a hand at the younger. "Yeah, yeah, one of these days. When I have grey hair."

Tumble laughed softly, "Have a good day, Alonzo."'

"You too," Alonzo said, giving him a sloppy salute with one of the books before putting it away.

The younger man smiled again before slipping out, the book in his hands.

The townspeople watched him again, some woman remarking on his far off look as a Sheppard drove some sheep by the water fountain.

Tumble settled on the fountain, opening the book to get a few minutes of reading in while he had the time. He'd need to go help his father soon, but for now he had time to himself.

Suddenly a shot rang out over the peaceful village, a goose hitting the ground hard.

Tumble looked up, startled. He frowned as he saw Genghis move quickly over and stuff the goose into a bag. Tumble rose and started for home, hoping he'd go unseen.

Genghis smiled at the hunter, "You didn't miss a shot! You're the greatest hunter int he world." He considered the pros and cons of continuing the praise, and decided that it was a little too much.

Not that the man he was addressing would have noticed, since Growltiger was preening in a storefront window. "I know!" he declared.

Genghis slung the gamebag over his shoulder as he came over, "No beast alive stands a chance against you. And no man or woman either."

"Very true," Growltiger nodded. "And I've got my sights on that one," he proclaimed, pointing to where Tumble was trying to retreat.

All pretense of praise went out the window at that, "The inventor's son?"

"That one!"

"But he's-" Genghis started to protest.

"The most beautiful person in town."

"After you of course," came the automatic reply accompanied by another start at a protest, "But there's still-"

"That makes him the best, doesn't it? And don't I deserve the best?" Growltiger asked, a hint of danger in his voice.

Genghis decided it was time to start backpedalling at least a bit, "Well, of course you do. I mean, there's the fact that...I...there's..." He grimaced slightly and then nodded, "Yes."

Growltiger was barely paying attention. "Right from the first time I saw him I decided he was going to be mine. After all there is no one else here as gorgeous as me. So I'm making plans to woo and marry him."

Genghis' brows rose and he managed to avoid laughing outright at that, having seen the interactions between Growltiger and Tumblebrutus, "The triplets will be heartbroken to hear that."

Growltiger was barely paying him any attention, already attempting to weave through the crowds to catch up with the boy in question.

Genghis looked skyward before struggling to get through the crowds after the larger man, pausing as he spotted the triplets at the water pump, well this was going to be interesting.

"Hello, Tumble," Growltiger said, finally catching up to him and blocking his path.

Tumble startled, nearly dropping his book, "O-oh, Growltiger. Hello."

"Lovely day," Growltiger remarked, plucking the book from Tumble's hands.

The brunet gaped at him, reaching for the book, "Yes. It is. May I have my book back?"

"How can you read this?" he asked, flipping through it. "It has no pictures."

Tumble made another grab for the book, "Well, some people use their imaginations. Please give it back."

"It's time you get your head out of a book," he declared, tossing it down into the muddy street. "And pay attention to more important things, like me! The whole town is talking about it."

Tumble scowled as he ducked past Growltiger to pick up the book and clean it off, he could hear the triplets giggling, "Talking about what?"

"You, always reading. It's not right to pay so much attention to books. Pay attention to life! And men."

"Like you? No, thank you."

"What's wrong with me?" Growltiger demanded. "Come on, we can go to the tavern and look at my hunting trophies."

Tumble shook his head, "Maybe some other time." Growltiger looked aghast at the moment.

"What's wrong with him?" Bomba demanded from near the well.

"He's crazy!" Demeter supplied.

"Growltiger's gorgeous!" Etcetera piped up.

Tumble sighed, shaking his head, "Please, Growltiger, I can't. I have to get home and help my father."

Genghis laughed from where he'd come up unnoticed, "That crazy old loon, he needs all the help he can get." Growltiger laughed at that as well before he could stop himself.

Tumble bristled at that, "Don't talk about my father that way!" He'd had about all he could take from this town, from the men in front of him and from the whole damn county.

Growltiger quickly whacked Genghis. "Yeah, don't talk about his father that way."

The smaller man growled, but shut up.

Tumble frowned deeply, "My father's not crazy. He's a genius!" As though to belie his words there was an explosion from the house up the hill. He whirled, his eyes widening and he took off at a run for the house, hoping everything, or at least his father, was still intact.

Genghis shook his head, muttering, "Some genius."

Growltiger tried not to laugh but once Tumble was out of sight he couldn't help it any longer.

Genghis smirked finally, looking up at the other, "So, you're sure about the inventor's son then?"

Growltiger stopped laughing long enough to nod. "I am."

"It means you'll have that loon as a father-in-law."

"Father in laws can be ignored," he said with a shrug. "Come, let us hunt more."

Genghis looked skyward, suppressing a sigh. They'd been hunting since the sun rose already, "Whatever you want."

B-B-B

Tumblebrutus carefully opened the basement doors, waving the smoke away as he descended, "Papa? Are you alright?"

Skimbleshanks was picking himself up from where he'd been knocked over, dusting himself off and muttering under his breath. He looked up at his worried son, "I'm fine, but I can't for the life of me figure out why that happened!" He motioned to a contraption in the middle of the room, "If that isn't the stubbornest piece of junk I have ever seen!" He scowled at it, "I'm done with it. I'll never get this thing to work."

The younger man shook his head, a fond smile gracing his features, "Of course you will. And you'll win first prize at the fair tomorrow." At his father's skeptical look, Tumble moved over and picked up a piece that had come off in the explosion, offering it to the other, "And become a world famous inventor."

"You really think so?" Skimble's tone was cautious, testing the waters.

"I always have. You know that."

There was a pause before Skimble took the missing piece from his son's hand and moved back over to the machine, "Well, we'd better get a move on then. It won't fix itself, now, where did I put that dog-legged clincher?" Tumble smiled fondly and handed it to his father just before the older man slid under the machine to check the gears. "Did you have a good time in town today?" The muffled voice drifted up, sounding a bit tinny.

"I got a new book," his shrug was almost audible in his voice.

"You do love those books."

"They take me away to wonderful places where there's adventure, and mystery and…happy endings." He paused for a long moment, "Papa, if I ask you something do you promise to give me an honest answer?"

"Don't I always?"

That earned a faint smile, "Always. But…do you think I'm odd?"

Skimble slid out from under the machine what looked like two jeweler's glasses covering his eyes to help him with the detail work, "Odd? You? Where would you get an idea like that?" He pulled the make-shift goggles off to look at his son better.

"I don't know…People talk, I guess that's it."

"Well, they talk about me too." Skimble shook his head, settling on a stool and motioning for Tumble to take a seat on the other one, "We're not odd, you and I. We're just different from them, and if they're too blind to see how very special you are then that's their problem. You're class, Tumble."

He sighed, "I just wish I could fit in, you know?"

"I do know, and eventually you'll find a niche. No matter what, you'll always be my son, and I'll always love you. We've come a long way, and it hasn't always been easy, but we've made it this far." He looked toward the invention, "And if this thing works, it'll be the start of a new stage of life for us. We might even be able to move nearer to Paris."

Tumble offered him a smile, "You'll do it. I don't care what anyone says, you make me proud, whether this one works or not. Always. You're all I've got, and you are the most important person in my life, no matter what."

Skimble's smile turned fond as he rested a gentle hand on his son's shoulder, "And you in mine. Now, what do you say we give it a try?" He rose, picking up a log and setting it in front of axe and turning the machine on, taking a healthy step back as the invention coughed its way into starting up. The axe came down and began chopping the log.

Tumble's eyes lit up, "It works! You did it! You really did it!"

His father couldn't help the laugh that welled up in relief, "Who knows, I might just win this fair after all! I need to be on my way though."

The younger man started for the door, "I'll go hitch up the wagon for you." He couldn't stop smiling, "Good luck, Papa."

B-B-B

Skimble had encountered a pack of wolves on his way to the fiar and, having lost his horse and his cart he'd narrowly managed to avoid the wolves, pounding hard on a castle door, "Please! Let me in, somebody, anybody! Help!" The doors swung open and he ducked in, closing the doors, just before the wolf's jaws closed on his heel. He caught his breath as he looked around at the apparently deserted castle, "H-hello?" His voice echoed back to him. He tried again as he moved carefully away from the door, "Hello?"

A tense-looking mantle clock, perched on a table near the entrance shot a disapproving look at the candelabra next to him, whispering harshly, "Well, now you've done it! I told you not to let him in!"

"We could hardly leave him for the wolves," the Candelabra protested quietly. He really wanted to shrug but didn't dare since the flames on what used to be his hands were the main light in the room.

"Is anyone home?" Skimble would swear he could hear voices, but he didn't see anyone. Perhaps it was just his imagination.

"If we keep quiet, maybe he'll go away," the clock sounded perhaps a tad too hopeful at that thought.

"Is someone here?"

"Not one word, Mistoffelees," the mantle clock all but growled, "Not one single word!"

Alright, now he was either going mad or there was someone whispering somewhere. Skimble decided to assume the latter, "I don't mean to intrude, but I've lost my way in the woods, and I fear I've lost my horse as well, and I need a place to stay. Just for tonight."

"Oh, Coricopat, have a heart," the candelabra said, looking at the clock like a child that had just found a lost puppy.

The clock froze as Skimble turned fully around before he placed his metal hand over Mistoffelees' mouth, "Shh!"

Rolling his eyes slightly, and really wanting to get out of that particular position, Mistoffelees took the quickest way out and touched his lit candle to one of the metal hands over his mouth.

Coricopat yelped, pulling his hands away, "Yowch! You little waxen-" he broke off as he realized that he'd started drawing the intruder's attention.

Which was nothing compared to Mistoffelees stepping forward. "Of course, monsieur, you are welcome here."

Skimble looked around in confusion, picking up the candlestick out of need for light, "Who said that?"

Mistoffelees sighed and tapped him on the shoulder. "Over here!"

Skimble turned, still trying to find the speaker, "Where?" Coricopat would have found this amusing if he hadn't been in the midst of reminding himself that he didn't in fact ever panic.

Mistoffelees tapped his shoulder again. "Right here!"

Skimble finally looked at the candlestick in his hand, dropping it and stumbling back, "Good heavens! That's incredible!"

Coricopat and slipped down off the side table and made his way quickly over, "Yes, I'm certain it is, now if that's all I'm certain you have places to be, sir."

The inventor's jaw dropped, and he carefully picked up the clock, causing and indignant yelp from Coricopat, "How on earth is this accomplished?"

"Put me down! At once!" He tolerated Skimble's examination until the man went to open the pendulum door at which point he'd had quite enough, "Do you mind!"

Mistoffelees was attempting to pick himself up from the ground, groaning a little from the pain of being dropped. However, seeing Coricopat manhandled was almost worth it, and he chuckled.

Skimble frowned in confusion, "Well, I'm stumped, must be some kind of new scientific gadget."

The look of absolute indignation that crossed the clock's features was priceless, "I, sir, am not a gadget!"

"Oh, I do beg your pardon. I don't mean to be rude. I just, I've never seen a talk-a talk-" He sneezed, causing Cori to grimace and wipe his face off.

"...Bless you."

Mistoffelees tried to hide another laugh, though he made a sound that Jenny would be proud of when the poor man sneezed. "Oh, you are soaked to the bone, monsieur. Come, warm yourself by the fire," he said, leading the way quickly toward said fire.

Coricopat found himself set down as Skimble followed the candlestick. The clock hurried after them, "Mistoffelees, absolutely not, I forbid it!" His eyes widened as Skimble was shown to a tall armchair in front of the fire, "No! Absolutely not! Not the master's chair!"

"It'll be fine," Mistoffelees tried to assure him as the footstool ran up, barked, and happily went under Skimble's feet.

Skimble blinked at that as Coricopat shook his head firmly, "No, it won't. This has gone far enough! He's got to leave, Mistoffelees."

"And go where?" Mistoffelees pleaded. "He's cold and alone and sick and we have an entire castle..."

Their conversation was abruptly interrupted by a teacart zooming past, Jennyanydots proudly on top. "How would you like a nice spot of tea, sir? It'll warm you up in no time!" the teapot declared.

"That would be wonderful, thank you," Skimble decided his best option was to act as though everything going on around him was perfectly normal.

Coricopat protested from where he'd narrowly avoided being run over by the teacart, "No, no tea! He'll be here all night if you give him that!"

Jenny turned to her son, pouring the tea into the cup and stepping back. Mistoffelees arched a brow at Coricopat. "What's the matter with you anyway?"

The teacup hopped over, giggling as Skimble took a drink. The inventor set the cup in the palm of his hand, "Hello there, what's your name?"

"Pouncival," the child-like cup responded.

"It's good to meet you, Pouncival."

Coricopat glanced at Mistoffelees, "I don't want his blood on our heads. You know what the master will do."

"The master is brooding," Mistoffelees replied. "You know as well as I do that he's not going to come out for at least another day, the mood he's in."

Suddenly there was the sound of a roar, and a door slammed opened, a gust of wind coming through and blowing out Mistoffelees' candles. "Then again, maybe not," he managed, eyes huge in panic.

Coricopat turned, backing up rapidly and pulling Mistoffelees with him to get out of the master's way. Skimble startled as Pouncival jumped off of his hand and hid beside Jenny. The teacup glanced up at the teapot, "Should we hide?"

Jenny blinked, quaking slightly and shook her head. Mistoffelees was working on relighting his hands as Coricopat pulled him back.

A dark form stalked into the room on all fours, still all but growling."What is this?"

"I can explain!" Mistoffelees started. "This gentleman was lost in the woods and he was cold and wet and..." The beast before him growled, which put his flames out again.

Coricopat spoke quietly, but quickly from where he was beside Mistoffelees, "Master, he's right. The wolves nearly had him, he just needed a moment to warm himself by the fire."

"Who let him in?" the beast growled. "Who betrayed me?" he roared and Mistoffelees drew back before raising one trembling hand but it was ignored. "You have all betrayed me!" He stalked toward Skimble, rising on his back legs finally. "Who are you?"

Cori reached over and yanked Mistoffelees' hand down, breathing a quiet sigh of relief as the motion went ignored, even if it did bring the anger down on the rest of them too.

Skimble swallowed hard before replying, "S-Skimbleshanks."

Mistoffelees shot Coricopat a half confused look as the beast tilted his head at the inventor. "What are you doing in my castle?" he growled.

"I-I lost my way in the woods." He finally rose from the chair, still not having turned to face the master of the castle.

"You are not welcome here!"

"I'm sorry, I-I'll just be on my way." He turned to go and froze as his gaze finally fell on the Beast's face. He gasped, taking an instinctual step backwards.

"Hideous, isn't it?" the beast asked, voice almost sounding even for the first time all night, though his eyes were flashing.

"N-no, I wasn't...I just, I'll go." He glanced toward the door, before his wide-eyed gaze darted back to the creature looming over him.

"So, you've come to stare at the beast have you?" he suddenly roared.

"No! I meant no harm! I swear it! I was merely looking for a place to stay!" The sentences tumbled out of his mouth rapidly, pleading.

Reaching forward, the beast grabbed him. "I'll give you a place to stay then!" he said before dragging the helpless scientist off.

The room behind remained dark for a moment before Mistoffelees flicked his candles back on. "I... may have made a mistake."

Coricopat bit back his first response, sighing instead, "We all did. Come, there's nothing more we can do here."

"But," Mistoffelees started and sagged. "I just wanted to help. He was so lost..." Jenny jumped down from the cart and nudged him in the side.

"It'll work out," she offered.

Pouncival jumped down, following his mother over, "He'll be alright, won't he Mama?"

Coricopat glanced at the cup, answering for Jenny, "I'm certain things will turn out. Somehow."

Hello and greetings with a new story!

I'm still not entirely sure what to do with our muses casting this one but hey, here we go. It's going to be a mixture of scenes from the Disney film and the musical based off it, as well as our characters going off on their own. Though, the servants are the size they were in the film, not human sized like the musical just so then we can have them mandhandled and dropped.

As for casting, it shouldn't be too much of a surprise for the most part, though I'm a little surprised my Growltiger was okay with being this vain and moronic but hey. Genghis is going to be a great deal more subversive than LeFou ever was, so that's going to be interesting. I also apologize to Bomba and Deme and Etcetera for their casting. ((And why is there no actual Tumblebrutus tag? Bah))

Cheers, and thank everyone for reading!