Thanks again to all the reviewers for the comments, especially Mbanshee.

The answers to a couple of questions:

Who is Jean-Luc? Jean-Luc is the first name I've given Gaston (after Luke Evans).

Will they fall in love? I'll leave the answer to the end of the fic but I will say that they have a lot of work to do before they really understand each other.

A bright sunbeam in his eyes woke Maurice up first. He squinted out of the window. The sun was almost at its peak. Had they really slept for hours? He looked across at the table. Both Belle and Gaston were still stretched out across the table. He levered himself up from his chair and stirred up the fire as quietly as he could. The slight crackle woke Belle. She seemed to realize suddenly that she was resting her head on Gaston's arm. She sat up quickly, rubbing her eyes.

'What time is it, Papa?' she whispered.

'Close to midday.' He looked at the clock. 'Past eleven. We've been asleep for hours.'

The light whispers woke the younger man. He sat up, stretching his arms, tilting the chair back on two legs.

'I'm going to make something for lunch,' Belle announced. 'Would you like to stay? You still haven't told us what happened last night….and there's something I'd like to ask you.'

'Really?' Gaston lit up. 'There's something I'd like to ask you, too.'

'I'm just going to get some vegetables,' Belle said hastily and slipped out of the back door.

As soon as she was out of the door, Gaston leaned across towards Maurice.

'Do I have your permission to ask her to marry me?' he asked urgently.

'Ask her to marry you? Right now?'

'Of course! What could be more romantic? I rescue her from a savage beast and ask for her hand in marriage.'

'Not right now!' Maurice saw the confusion and disappointment on his face and added quickly, 'We don't all have your powers of recovery, my boy. Belle has had a terrible ordeal.' He saw Belle coming back up the path and stood up.

'Come out to the stable,' he invited loudly. 'I'd like you to see Philippe again. He's a fine horse.'

Gaston followed him obediently down the path. Once they were inside the stable, Maurice turned to him.

'This really isn't the right time, you know,' he apologized.

'Would tomorrow be better?' Gaston offered.

'No, not tomorrow either,' Maurice told him. Philippe nudged his pocket, hoping for a carrot. He had nothing to give him but stroked the soft grey head.

'She'll have to get over her shock at some time,' the other man returned, rather dismissively Maurice thought. 'She was only lost for a day and a night.'

'You have certainly earned her gratitude for the rescue,' Maurice said carefully. 'And mine too, that goes without saying. But it's not a question of shock but of understanding. Do you feel that you know her well enough to make such a big decision? And does she know you? It may certainly be romantic to rescue a girl and propose to her but is Belle truly the one you wish to marry?'

'I've wanted to marry her from the moment I first set eyes on her,' Gaston assured him.

'I am afraid that there are other girls in the town whose love would be rather easier to win,' Maurice said honestly. 'Belle is rather different to the others. She reads. She thinks deeply. She teaches others and these things are not little matters that she would put aside when she married but part of her nature. Are you sure that she is the right wife for you?'

'Are you trying to put me off?' Gaston looked younger than usual, confused and slightly hurt. 'I know she's not like the other girls round here.'

'No,' Maurice reassured him. 'You have my permission to visit us if you wish…and I will be glad to see you too. However, any decisions will be Belle's and Belle's alone.'

'But she'll come round in the end?'

'I can't answer that question,' Maurice said as gently as he could. 'I can only advise you. Firstly, if you wish to marry Belle, let it not be because it is a challenge or for the sake of her looks. Let it be because you admire and appreciate her courage and spirit, her kindness to others, her intelligence and her passion for books. Secondly, when you talk with her, listen to her opinions. Give her time and space to speak and ask her questions. Remember that she has a well-informed and ready mind. Laugh with her but never at her and above all…behave honorably towards her and others.'

Gaston nodded, looking completely taken aback and slightly sulky. Maurice doubted both how much the young man had taken in and how much he would be willing to put into practice.

Maurice patted his arm. 'I'm sure that a man who climbs castle walls and fights wolves could do all of that, if he put his mind to it. Think of this as an excellent beginning rather than a predictable ending.' Gaston brightened up a little.

'And now, my boy, shall we go back inside? Belle and I are still waiting to hear your story, you know, and I believe she has a question to ask.'

When they got back inside, Belle had a stew simmering on the fire. She turned to them, smiling.

'Do you like Philippe?' she asked.

'Oh, your horse?' Gaston still looked lost in thought. He blinked and focused on Belle properly. 'Yes, he went very well. A good horse.'

'How did you manage to rescue them? It looked so desperate.' Belle sat down at the table and indicated his chair with a friendly look.

Gaston dropped into it, rubbing his chin in thought. He looked at the door as if to check they were alone and then back at Maurice and Belle.

'Well, I was just thinking that the head would look good on my wall….' he hesitated.

They waited.

'When it spoke,' he admitted. 'It spoke with the voice of a man.'

'Yes, he spoke to me, too,' said Belle in a matter-of-fact way. 'Did you see any of the servants?'

'I….heard them.' Gaston hesitated. 'They came out to speak to him but….' he trailed off.

'Were they a clock and a candlestick?' asked Belle brightly. 'I met them too. They were both quite friendly.'

He stared at her.

'I'm sure neither of us imaged it,' she said. 'I saw them clearly and spoke to them. It can't have been a trick.'

'And….the teapot?'

'Oh yes. She was very kind.'

They looked across the table at each other and suddenly laughed helplessly at the absurdity of the conversation. Gaston recovered first.

'It's sorcery, Belle. There's no other explanation. The teapot…it….called me by my name. It's some of black magic. It's got to be stopped.'

'I agree,' she said, promptly. 'We have to save them!'

'Save them? This is black magic!'

'Well, do you think it's their fault?'

That stopped him in his tracks.

'I don't…I don't know. But an enchanted object calling me by my name? It has to be stopped. The monster must be at the heart of all this! You needn't be afraid, Belle,' he added. 'I'll protect the town from them.'

'But what if you'd be accidentally killing someone you know?' she protested. 'Think about it….isn't it equally likely that a person became enchanted as a teapot rather than a teapot made to talk? Especially since she recognized you. What did she say?'

He rubbed his temples as if trying to drive away a headache.

'She…asked the monster not to kill us,' he said. 'She said, "Master, please don't hurt them. That's Jean-Luc."' He stared at her. 'Just like that. "That's Jean-Luc." It's just…there was something in her voice that I think I should remember.' He glanced at Maurice. 'This must sound unbelievable.'

'No, not at all,' Maurice reassured him. 'I've heard Belle's story.'

'And you believe us both?'

'Without question,' he answered firmly.

'Did he let you go after that?' Belle asked. She took the stew from the fire and ladled it into three dishes.

'He threw us down the steps.' Gaston flushed with anger or embarrassment. 'He said we were free to stay and starve or take our chances with the wolves but he wouldn't have any more trespassers.'

'He didn't hurt you, did he,' she asked anxiously. She set the food down in front of them.

He warmed again under her concern.

'No, not at all. Don't worry. He'd have to throw me a lot further to hurt me.' He dug into the stew.

'This is good, Belle,' he said through mouthfuls. 'You're a good cook.'

She smiled politely and started to eat her own, looking lost in thought for a few moments.

'Did he leave you alone after that?' Maurice asked.

'He went back inside.' He hesitated again. 'He said one last thing before he left. I don't know if you want to hear this, Belle.'

'I do,' she said promptly.

'He said… "Remember that I didn't try to stop her from leaving. Tell her that I wish I could have met her in better times." Something like that, anyway.'

'Oh.' She took that in. 'Well that just confirms it, doesn't it?'

'Confirms what?'

'We have to save them, of course. If it's dark magic, I can't imagine everyone chose to become teapots and candlesticks and it sounds as if he didn't choose to be a beast, either. There must be a sorcerer somewhere…but it doesn't sound like one of them.'

'I'll have to go back the castle,' he said with determination. 'If a magician is keeping them in some sort of a curse, I'll find him and rescue them from him.'

'I think, perhaps, we should find out more, first,' Belle said carefully. 'Don't you agree, Papa?'

'Certainly it would be wise to try to gather some more information,' Maurice agreed. 'We may be able to determine the names of missing people or gather up other reports of mysteries that may give us some clues about this magic.'

'We know some names, anyway,' Belle put in. 'Monsieur Cogsworth, Monsieur Lumière and Mrs. Potts.'

'Mrs. Potts?' Gaston jumped. 'Not any relation to old Jean Potts? My father's cousin, you know,' he explained.

'She might be,' Belle said cautiously.

'I've got to rescue her. And a Cogsworth might be related to Madame Clothilde.'

'This is exactly why we need you,' Belle burst out, tactlessly.

Gaston preened. 'I think it's safe to say I know just about everybody around here.'

'Perhaps you might make some discreet enquiries,' Maurice suggested. 'It would be best to get some idea of the number of people who might be involved.'

'I'll talk to Père Robert,' Belle volunteered.

'I'll ask around at the tavern,' said Gaston.

'Ah, yes.' Maurice tried to think about how best to approach the matter. 'You might find people asking you about a bear when you go in there. I told them that the beast looked like some kind of bear in a ruined castle. It seemed best,' he said. 'I'm sure you understand why I didn't think I they would believe me.'

'Well, I wouldn't have,' Gaston told him honestly. 'I'd have said you were mad.'

'They may believe you,' Maurice went on, glad that his initial reasoning had proven correct, 'but for my part, I'll stick with the story of the bear. It's a dramatic story even without the…encounter with the Beast and his servants,' he said.

'Yes, it is.' He gave them his sudden, charming smile. 'Would you like to come to the tavern tonight? We'll be celebrating your safe return, Belle.'

'Oh!' She looked at Maurice. 'Um, well, I would but if Papa isn't well….'

'I believe I can make it for an hour or so, if you aren't too tired, my dear….'

'That's settled then,' Gaston said with decision, jumping up from the table. 'I'll see you tonight. Now, I must go and check on my horses and start drawing up a plan.' He crossed to the door in long strides that made the floorboards rattle. 'Thank you for lunch, Belle,' he said with a ready grin. 'You're a wonderful cook.'

As soon as the door slammed behind him, Belle turned to Maurice, seething with indignation.

'A wonderful cook? Did you hear that?'

Maurice gathered together the discarded dishes and set them in the sink.

'It's not an insult to be called a good cook, my dear,' he said gently. 'Your mother was as good as you and I thanked her for it every day.'

'No…but with him it's as if that's the best thing he could say. He might have…' she hesitated. 'He might have said something about thinking the situation through properly or even for getting on well with the Beast,' she snapped. 'I wasn't the one who got thrown out of the castle two minutes after opening the front door.'

'I believe the Beast was impressed by your spirit and your good heart, my dear,' Maurice said. He began to wash the dishes, waving her aside. 'No, you sit down for a change. You've done all the work this morning.'

Belle picked up her book and glared at it.

'Ugh. Do we have to go to the tavern tonight? I feel as if we were marshalled into it.'

'Yes, it was rather like being in the army,' Maurice said with dry humor. 'It would be polite, though, for everyone who came out for us and you do have many friends in the town who would be pleased to see you there.

'Fine,' she sighed. 'We'll go. For everyone's sake, not just for his.'

The night at the tavern turned out to be far better than either of them had expected, they decided, when the evening was finally over and they were walking home under the bright stars. It had been a night of song and dance. The entire village had been there, taking Maurice and Belle to its heart as never before and it was heartwarming to be drawn into such convivial circles. The presence of Père Robert and many more of the women and children than usual seemed to restrain the men from breaking into the bawdy songs that Maurice had sometimes heard coming from the tavern. The songs they had all sung together were fit for any child to hear, innocent songs of love, requited and unrequited. Gaston had behaved with impressive restraint, by his own standards, refusing to cajole Belle into singing a duet with him as his friends urged, saying nothing of a talking beast and buying drinks with characteristic generosity.

In some ways he had been less restrained. Maurice chuckled to himself at the memory. When the villagers had urged the Captain to tell his story, Gaston had thrown himself into it, heart and soul. Acting it out, with the help of the ever-ready Le Fou, Gaston had stalked imaginary wolves from behind the cover of chairs and flattened himself on the floor, stabbing an invisible wolf with a very visible knife as Le Fou jumped over him in imitation of Mon Ami. The audience had oohed and aahed as he leaped from bar to table to clear the castle gate and gasped as he scaled the wall of the tavern and swung from the chandelier, as he had swung thirty feet above the ground the night before. Belle, like the rest of the village, couldn't keep her eyes off him and applauded with the rest when the show was over and he was knocking back a well-deserved pint.

'What are you thinking about, Papa?'

Maurice smiled at her. 'I think that a circus somewhere is missing a very talented performer.'

Belle giggled. 'Oh Papa. I think so too. It was a very entertaining evening. I've never seen anyone climb the walls of the tavern like that'

Maurice's heart gave a pang. Perhaps Belle needed the lively company of people her own age more than she ever said.

'If you would like, Belle, we could spend more time with the others here,' he offered. 'Parties, dances and so forth. I like to see you happy.'

'Oh, no thank you Papa,' she said. 'I'd miss our evenings by the fire, just talking or reading.' She hesitated. 'I never know what to talk about to the other girls.'

'Do you think you might, perhaps, like to talk to Captain Gaston a little more?'

She looked across sharply. 'Has he said anything to you?'

'I know he admires you.'

'Do you like him?' she asked quietly. 'I always found him quite, well, arrogant in general. And so many things I say seem to go straight over his head. Of course,' she added, 'that isn't all the time and it was very good of him to rescue me.'

He considered his answer. 'I see something in him that could be noble in the right circumstances. 'In the meantime…I'm sure that his faults are no worse than that of any other man who has spent years in military service and he is, perhaps, rather more generous than many. Without a doubt, he is braver.' He looked towards the moon. 'Certainly I saw him to be an admirably capable, determined man who considered your safety and mine throughout last night, remained cheerful and treated his horses well.'

'I don't think that's enough for marriage,' she said simply. 'I'm sure….I'm sure he'd make someone a good husband.' She sighed. 'But I don't think that's me.'

Maurice took her hand. 'I would never ask you to marry a man you didn't love with your whole heart, my dear. Whenever you make a decision to marry or not to marry, you know that I'll support you.'

'I know, Papa.' She laughed ruefully. 'Perhaps there isn't a man out there who is handsome and caring and clever and romantic and who would love me from the moment he first saw me.' She blushed. 'I'm sorry, Papa. I'm happy here with you, truly.' She squeezed his hand. 'I'm so glad to be back here with you.'

'And with you, my dear.' He pushed open the door of the cottage. 'But do you think that you could sit through another meal with Captain Gaston and Monsieur Le Fou? I invited them to dinner as a way of thanking them,' he apologized.

'Oh yes, for your sake I'd be happy to,' she said. 'When on earth did you have time to invite them, though?' she teased. 'I'm sure I've been with you from the moment we left the castle.'

'It was just after he climbed up and down that terrible wall to speak to you,' Maurice said thoughtfully. 'Did you know that he came back down forty feet of almost vertical wall?'