A week later he arrived at her house, larger than life. He dressed in his best red coat, his hair slicked back and his britches washed just as thoroughly as his face. Lefou held up a mirror to him, letting him preen at his perfect reflection, praising his magnificence. Gaston didn't disagree- he had rather outdone himself.

Then he shooed him away as he raised himself up and confidently knocked on her door.

"Gaston," said Belle, with a hint of (pleasant, of course) surprise, "what are you doing here?"

"I came to ask you to come with me, I have something very special I want to show you."

"Gaston, my father and I-"

"It won't take long," he said, grabbing her hand eagerly and pulling her out the door.

They made their way across town, passing many seemingly- empty businesses.

"What's going on?" she asked, obviously filled with anticipation.

"Just you wait, Belle- this is your lucky day."

He dragged her to the outskirts of the forest on the other side of the village, stopping in front of a large, half- isolated cottage.

He beamed, standing her in front of the cottage, his hands on his lapels as he merely stared proudly at her reaction.

"What is this place?" she asked suspiciously, wondering at his pride in the empty lodge.

"This is our home," he announced grandly at last, flinging both arms out to demonstrate the magnificence he had created.

"Our what?"

"Where all your dreams will come true."

"And you know my dreams?"

"Of course! Here's our rustic little house, where I'll come home after a long day's work to our little ones playing on the floor with the faithful hounds- all six or seven of them- sons, that is. And you, my little wife, cooking dinner before washing my sweaty, hairy back while admiring the tales of my latest feats."

"What?" He dragged her into the house, showing off this week's efforts.

"Gaston I- I don't know what to say."

"Ah! Speechless already! Excellent. Don't worry, Belle- I've arranged everything, of course. While I was building the lodge, the seamstress and tailor's wife arranged the wedding. Say you'll marry me and all this," once more he gestured to the walls around them in the trophy-laden dwelling, "will be yours."

"You built this?" she asked incredulously. Or impressed, he never could tell with her completely.

"But of course, Belle. Had to show you just what a capable man you were getting." He preened again, for her benefit this time.

"You expect me to just marry you?"

"Yes! The townspeople are right outside- almost everyone came to our wedding. There's even a band." He grinned brightly, quite pleased with himself that he had pulled all of this off.

"Before you even came and proposed to me?" He started to hear just an ounce of irritation in her voice. Poor girl wasn't used to getting swept off her feet. He'd change that.

"Why, yes Belle. From the first time I met you, I said to Lefou, "I'll have Belle as my-"

"You'll have me?" she inquired, the irritation now unmistakable for anger. "I am not a trophy, monsieur! Nor am I a prize or an animal to be hunted and placed on a mantel. And I don't deserve to be treated like one, and I don't deserve you!"

"Don't worry- you don't have to do anything-"

"You built all of this so quickly just to make a point? What, that you're... strong? Tough? Manly?"

"I am all those things," he reiterated proudly, flexing his muscles. Though, he was confused why she was looking at him like that. He'd proven his virility by building a cottage for them by hand. And he'd shown his providence by arranging her dream wedding. Yet still, she stormed out furiously, not even noticing the entire village awaiting the celebrations in back.

"What's wrong, Belle?" he queried, truly mystified by her baffling reactions to his grand gestures.

"You, Gaston! You did all of this, just to prove-" she sighed, then looked up at him, still annoyed yet with a small amount of pity as well, before explaining, "You can't just muscle your way into or out of everything you know. The world doesn't always work like that."

"How else does it work?" he wracked his brain, as best he could, for a situation where his strength and muscles hadn't worked in his favour, or hadn't fixed everything.

She didn't 't even bother stopping as she shook her head, storming away from the simple, provincial life he offered. "You have a mind, I'm sure. Use it."