It had been a big day—it was Chip's birthday. Everyone smiled to see the boisterous young lad opening his presents. His favorite—a brand-new storybook from Belle and Prince Adam. Little Sultan entertained himself by play-attacking the wrapping paper that flew everywhere!

The couple smiled lovingly upon him, Adam's arm draped softly around Belle's shoulders. His gaze traveled all around the room. The food was delectable, there were guests galore, and, of course, the staff couldn't have been more excited. Of course, Lumiere was more interested in pursuing the lovely Fifi, but that was normal for him, Adam mused, chuckling.

Then—something most unexpected happened. Chip rose to his feet, covered his mouth, and ran out of the room. Minutes later, they heard him hacking!

That got everyone's attention. "Chip?" Mrs. Potts led the group. "Are—are you all right?"

They searched all over the palace, until at last, they found Chip lying on the floor of his room, holding his stomach. "Mama," he moaned, "I don't feel good."

Belle started to reach for him, only to find Adam's arm in her way. "Wait," he cautioned. "We don't know what this is, or if it's contagious." All Belle and the others could do was watch in horrified silence as Mrs. Potts gingerly picked him up, managed to get him into his nightclothes, and put him to bed.

The group left, heads hung, to clean up the ballroom from the big gala. Lumiere looked back, as if to see if he could be of any assistance to Mrs. Potts, but Cogsworth just shook his head and led him away. A stray tear fell from Lumiere's eye, and he wiped it away.

The doctor was called in, and the only advice he could give was to "give him weak liquids, and make sure he gets plenty of rest."

Over the next few days, everyone tried to do as the doctor had ordered—and yet there was no more constant companion than—

Adam.

Oftentimes he would relieve Mrs. Potts of bringing him his meals, pulling up a chair beside his bed and sharing whatever "remedy" that the doctor had ordered.

But Belle could tell—the vigil was starting to get to him. Every night when he finally crawled into bed, he was so exhausted that she was honestly afraid he'd be the next one to fall ill!

One night during Adam's vigil, Chip moved his head and moaned. "Prince Adam…"

"I'm right here, Chip," was the reply, as Adam grabbed a damp cloth and attempted to sop up fever-induced sweat from Chip's brow.

Using what little energy he had, Chip pushed a book in Adam's direction. "Read—to—me," he gasped.

Picking up the book, Adam managed a small smile. It was the same book he and Belle had given him for Christmas that year when Mrs. Potts related the tale of the Christmas that almost wasn't! Opening the book, he started reading.

And when Belle peeked in, she found them both in what appeared to be the first good night's sleep in ages, the book laying softly across Adam's chest. Chuckling, she slipped it out of his hold, placed a bookmark in, and lay it on the table. It was only upon getting Adam out of the chair that he began to stir. "Wha—what happened?"

"You fell asleep reading to Chip, it appears," she laughed.

Adam blushed, not realizing how late he had actually stayed. "I—I guess I just lost track of time," he admitted.

Belle just smiled, touching his cheek. "You love him, don't you?"

Now it was Adam's turn to smile."You—you might say that," he whispered.

Before they left, Belle took a chance and—put a hand to Chip's forehead. "The fever," she gasped, "it—it's breaking!"

They looked at each other, unable to believe it. Chip was getting better!

"He needs his rest," Belle whispered, "and so do you, it appears." They turned as if to leave, but Adam turned to Chip's bed one last time and slipped his hand in Chip's own. "Get some rest, Chip," he whispered, before placing a soft kiss on his forehead. Then he rejoined Belle, softly closing the door behind them.

The next morning, he was up early to check on his favorite patient. When he opened the door, he was in for a wonderful surprise—for there was Chip, sitting up, reading the storybook where they had left off!

"Well, good morning, Chip!" He practically flew to Chip's bedside, wrapping the little boy in as big a hug as he could manage. "What—what can I get Mrs. Potts to make for you?"

Chip smiled weakly. "Oatmeal," he whispered, "with butter and brown sugar."

Adam just smiled and bowed. "Your wish is my command."

Chip just giggled. "You're silly, Prince Adam!"

Now Adam joined in the laughter. He hadn't felt this good since Belle broke the curse he and the rest of the castle—including Chip—had been under! "Coming right up," he said.

He bounded down the stairs two at a time, the staff turning when they heard the commotion. "So, how is our patient?" Mrs. Potts wanted to know.

The smile that was still plastered on Adam's face told the whole story. "The fever broke last night," he replied. "He'd like oatmeal with butter and brown sugar."

Mrs. Potts got the tray ready, along with a small pitcher of cream and a small glass of hot tea with lemon and honey. "I—I guess it's safe to take this up myself?" she inquired, turning to Adam and Belle for permission.

"Why don't we all go," Belle suggested, turning back to look at Cogsworth, Lumiere, Fifi—even Sultan, the dog, couldn't help bounding up after them!

When she opened the door, they all smiled, some with tears in their eyes, to see the little boy they honestly feared they were going to lose, on the mend!

Belle smiled lovingly upon her husband. "You never gave up," she whispered, "no matter what the cost."

Adam returned the smile, coming in for a soft kiss. This was his home, and he knew he'd always be there for anyone who needed him!