Author's note: Hey guys! (: I am sorry about how long it has been since this story was posted, but I wanted to finish "Love Changes Things" without too many distractions. Now that it's over, I'm excited to be able to dedicate most of my time to this story!

Just so everyone knows: This story is going to be very AU in nature. There will be similarities, but for the most part this will be very different from the traditional BatB. There are original characters hidden among the cast, though; with the help of I've given some characters more modern names - bonus points and lots of love to anyone who can identify a character! (:

I'd love reviews; I've never done something SO AU, so I really hope it turns out well. Thanks to my betas and to all of my readers! I hope you guys enjoy this story.


A banging noise invaded Belle's dreams, making her frown in her sleep.

"Mademoi – uh, Belle?"

Belle turned over, trying to ignore whatever came from outside of her peaceful sleep, but the rapping noise grew louder.

"Belle! There's someone knocking on your front door!" At that, Belle sat up in her bed, momentarily alarmed. Who was in her apartment? She sighed as the memories of the previous evening flooded her mind.

"Just a second," she called, scrambling out of bed. She flung her bedroom door open; Rene stood in front of her, a concerned expression on his face. When he saw her, he gasped and covered his eyes with one hand.

"You're – you're indecent!" he exclaimed. Belle looked down at her t-shirt and shorts: ordinary sleeping attire, in her opinion. She tugged at the bottom of her shorts self-consciously. They reached almost to her knees; they were far from inappropriate.

"I – no, I'm not!" she argued, turning red. Now she could hear the rapping that hadn't been Rene; someone was banging on her front door and shouting something unintelligible. Belle moved to open the front door; she could tell now that the voice was a woman's. She flung open the door to see her angry best friend staring her down. Realization hit her and she gasped.

"I didn't text you last night," Belle said sheepishly.

"You sure didn't," Bethany said angrily, pushing her way into the apartment. "I was worried sick! You leave work late, you're driving alone through town at night, you come home alone, and you don't even let me know that you're home …" Bethany stopped suddenly, staring at the blanket and pillow on the couch.

"Who's staying here?" Bethany demanded.

"I, uh," Belle began. She sighed, knowing full well that she couldn't lie about last night. "I kind of – hit someone with my car last night."

"You what!" Bethany exclaimed, her eyes widening rapidly.

"He's all right," Belle said quickly. "I – mostly – stopped on time, so I just knocked him over. I felt bad and responsible, though –"

"As you should have!" Bethany interjected lightly. Belle raised an eyebrow before continuing.

"I felt bad, so I asked him to stay the night so I could be sure he was really okay."

"You said 'he,' right?" Bethany asked. Belle sighed.

"Is that the only part of my story you caught?" she asked her friend. Bethany grinned and tossed her long blonde hair.

"Is he cute? How old is he?"

"Uh, Beth," Belle said, clearly flustered.

"Where is he, anyway?"

"I'm not sure," Belle answered honestly; Rene had deserted the living room. "I suppose he's in the bathroom."

"I'll have to meet him some other time," Bethany said with a wink. "I'm meeting Lou in a few minutes. I just wanted to make sure that you weren't dead in an alley somewhere."

"I know, I know," Belle sighed. "I'll be sure to give you a minute-by-minute rundown of my day next time." Bethany laughed and gave Belle a quick hug before seeing herself out.

"Is she gone?" came a soft voice from Belle's bedroom.

"You could have come out, you know," Belle said in lieu of an answer. Rene stuck his head around the corner sheepishly.

"I – I prefer not to be seen," he said lightly. Belle sighed, but her heart surged with pity. Especially in today's society, disfigurement could not be an easy thing to bear. "Who was she?" he asked after a moment.

"My friend Bethany. She's the girl in the picture you saw last night," she added, in case he remembered. "I forgot to text her last night and let her know that I was home."

"Text?"

"Oh, boy," Belle said with a sigh, plopping herself down on the couch.

"Aren't you going to put more clothing on?" Rene asked, averting his eyes. Belle groaned.

"You really are serious about all of this, aren't you?" she asked. "I thought it might have been a charade, but you really don't know much about this place, do you?" Rene shook his head.

"I half expected to wake up home, in my own bed, and for all of this to have been a dream," he added softly. He slowly moved across the room, his shoulders hunched in and his head bowed slightly.

He seemed determined to keep as much of his body hidden from view as possible. When he finally reached the couch, he opted to sit on the floor instead of the couch with Belle. He turned slightly so that she could only see a portion of his profile.

"Me too," Belle muttered. "Clearly, though this isn't a dream. Anyway, what are you going to do now? Where do you live? Is there somewhere I can drop you off, or someone I can call …?"

Rene bit his lip but didn't answer her.

"Where are you going to go?" Belle prompted.

"I – I have nowhere to go. I told you, I am not from this place." Belle's jaw dropped.

"What do you mean you have nowhere to go?" she demanded.

"I just don't," he snapped. Immediately, he looked remorseful. "I – I apologize, but I am being truthful. I have nowhere to go. Perhaps – perhaps, we could come to some agreement and I could stay here a little longer." Belle's head began to spin; she leaned back on the couch and stared at the ceiling.

This whole situation was getting out of hand. Belle tried to think clearly and put everything in order.

This man had appeared out of nowhere in front of her car. He seemed to have no knowledge of the world – or at least the modern world. Now he wanted to stay with her ….

"I don't know anything about you!" Belle cried suddenly. "Look," she continued, glaring slightly. "If you want me to even being to consider allowing you to stay here, I want some answers; I want answers now."

"I don't know if you'll believe me," Rene said quietly, lowering his head further. "You will think me crazy."

"I don't think you're crazy," Belle insisted. "Just tell me – tell me what happened to you." The man sighed and held his head in his hands. After a pregnant pause, he spoke.

"As I have said before, I am not from here. I believe, however, that I have spoken incorrectly. I am not from now."

"What are you talking about?" Belle demanded when he did not continue.

"My name is Rene Laurent. I live in France in a large estate with a small household of servants in the year 1746." Belle began to laugh and play with her hair nervously.

"What do you mean, 1746?"

"I mean 1746!" he exclaimed. "I told you that you would think me insane."

"I'll play along," Belle said. "How did you get here?"

"Well, I …" Rene trailed off and played with the fringe of the purple rug. "Many years ago, I was given an enchanted mirror."

"An enchanted mirror?" Belle cut in. Rene turned his head to give her a desperate look and she snapped her mouth shut, feeling a little guilty. "I apologize. Please, continue." Rene sighed.

He spoke again, but never one lifted his eyes from the floor.

"This mirror – it let me see people, just by asking to see them. When it was first given to me, I could hardly believe it myself. It was only once I saw it with my own eyes that I was able to accept that the enchantment that was upon it was real. Somehow, though I did not know it until yesterday evening, the mirror was also some sort of – some sort of portal. It brought me here last night.

"That is when you hit me with your – 'car,' was it?" Belle nodded without speaking.

This man had to be pulling her leg. He didn't seem to be mentally unstable, so the only other option was that this was some enormous hoax. But ...

Rene didn't seem to be acting when he showed surprise or shock at the world around him. He had been so against their staying in the apartment alone together, and had seemed legitimately opposed to her outfit this morning. Could someone feign these reactions?

If he wasn't acting, then the only thing that could explain it was his story.

"Let me get this straight," Belle said with a sigh. "A magical mirror transported you from 18th century France to modern-day America?"

"Believe me, mademoiselle, I know how crazy my tale seems. If I had not experienced it first-hand, I would not be able to believe it, either."

Belle had to rationalize and debunk the story he had woven. When he called her 'mademoiselle,' she spotted her first piece of ammunition.

"If you are from 18th century France, why do you speak English?" She could just see the corner of his wasted mouth turn up into a smile; he seemed relieved that she at least believed him enough to question him.

"My father was a French diplomat. As such, he often traveled to England and other countries to meet with high-ranking officials; it was imperative that he speak their languages properly. His work began before I was even born, so he hired a household of English or English-speaking servants so that I would grow up with both languages. My mother also had to learn, though I quickly excelled above her. Learning languages as a child is much easier."

Belle pulled on her short hair. He had an answer for that question – a sincere answer, at that. Her confusion mounted as her brain battled with the fact that his story explained this odd situation.

"Let's assume that I believe you," she began. "Why would the mirror bring you here?"

Rene hesitated before answering.

"I believe that there is something here that I need – something that will help me."

"So you wanted to come here?" Belle demanded.

"I don't know," Rene said, sounding slightly sad. "But I'm here, nonetheless."

"Where is this mirror?" Belle asked; she hoped secretly that he wouldn't be able to produce it and she could disprove this tale at last.

"Where are my clothes from last night?"

"In the bathroom," Belle answered. They stood up and made their way to her bathroom. "You said it – it shows you people?" Rene nodded. "Can you prove it to me?"

"Of course," he said, reaching into his trouser pocket and producing a small hand mirror. He handed it to Belle, and she couldn't help but gasp at its beauty.

It truly did look like it had come from the 18th century. It was golden with an ornate rim around its shiny glass. When Belle wrapped her hand around the twisted lines of the handle, she felt a pulse of energy shoot through her body. Shaking her head slightly and deciding to ignore the electricity that seemed to be emanating from the mirror, she looked at Rene again.

"I just ask it to show me someone?" Rene nodded; for once, his shocking blue eyes watched her without reservation for the first time. He seemed almost excited. "Show me – Bethany. Please."

There was a small flash of light; Belle's reflection in the mirror disappeared and instead her best friend appeared in the glass. Bethany was driving her small green car, humming along to the blaring radio.

Startled, Belle jumped and let out a gasp; the mirror fell from her hand and to the floor where it shattered.

"Oh my God!" Belle shouted, kneeling on the ground as she stammered an apology. "I'm so sorry, I just – well, that really shocked me. I can't believe it actually worked, I'm so sorry! Do you think we can –" At once, Belle stopped talking. She had just reached for a large sliver of glass to begin cleaning up when the pieces began to move.

They relocated themselves slowly at first, but they quickly picked up speed. As Belle watched, her eyes widening rapidly, the broken mirror put itself back together.

"Do you believe me now?"