"Babette! Babette, please wake up!"
Babette, one of the worst morning people, groaned at the unwelcome voice, "Go away, Simone."
"I would, gladly, but this is an emergency!" Simone replied anxiously. "You have to come see this!"
Babette forced her eyes open and squinted at the maid. "Can it wait?"
"It could but—"
"Then let me rest."
"But it is important you know now. It concerns you as well as everyone else in the castle."
"Fine, give me a minute."
"I'll wait outside." Simone turned, hopped off the chaise and withdrew to the hallway.
Babette sat up, blinking as much of the sleepiness out of her eyes.
Lumière felt her stir. "Was that Simone?"
"Oui. She says there is an emergency and that it concerns everyone in the castle."
"What kind of emergency?"
"I do not know, but it better be worth waking up for."
"May I come with?"
"Of course, I am sure Simone would like that," Babette teased.
Lumière gave only a playful sneer in reply before he followed her out to the hallway.
"All right," Babette said to Simone. "This better be an important emergency."
"Oh, it is," Simone assured, leading the way. "It is actually quite tragic…"
"What happened precisely?" Lumière asked.
Simone quickly glanced behind her at the pair, an obvious apprehension in her eyes. "It is better if you see for yourself."
"Can you give us a hint?" Lumière asked lightheartedly.
Simone paused, unwavering. "It has something to do with the spell."
Babette and Lumière exchanged glances, thinking simultaneously, That cannot be good.
They were all silent as Simone continued to lead the way. As they turned a corner, Babette recognized the hallway as the maids' room corridor. It cannot be about them could it? she wondered.
As though to confirm her suspicion, Simone stopped in front of the maids' door and turned to face them. "What you are about to see is a little... disturbing, so be prepared."
Babette and Lumière looked at each other again before they followed Simone into the maids' room.
All of the maids were surrounding one spot on the floor. Some were in hysteria and others were dead silent with horror-stricken expressions. The rest were whispering to each other.
The maids glanced at the new arrivals and stood aside to make a path as Babette and Lumière approached.
Babette gasped. "Is that…?
"Oui," Simone replied. "Madame Margaux."
On the floor was an engraved feather duster. It was Madame Margaux, but it had no face. It wasn't moving either. It looked just like a regular, inanimate feather duster.
"We just woke up and found her as she is on the floor," Simone explained. "The spell must have changed her as she was attending to her nightly vigil."
"So is she… gone?" Babette asked.
"We think so."
"If she turned completely into a feather duster... does that mean the rest of us will follow?"
Her own fear was reflected in Simone's as she murmured, "We do not know."
"I wonder what made her change before the others," Lumière thought aloud.
"Please, can you wonder outside?" Babette hissed with urgency. "The sight is starting to scare me."
She hurriedly rushed out and Lumière followed suit.
Babette stared at the ground, disturbed at the sudden turn of events.
"Are you all right, ma plumette?" Lumière asked, putting a comforting arm around her.
"No," she admitted. "I did not know I could turn completely into a feather duster. This means I could simply-poof!-be gone forever overnight! This changes everything!"
"Try to relax—"
"Relax? Relax?" Babette cried, becoming steadily hysterical. "How can I? This is terrible! And we cannot do anything about it-!"
"Babette!" Lumière called, making her look him in the eye. "Do not jump to conclusions. There must be a reason for Madame Margaux to have changed before the rest of us. I have a theory, but I need further evidence."
"Lumière," Babette said with flirtatious smile. "You sound like an investigator. I like it."
He grinned back. "I am glad you approve. Come on, I have some servants to check on."
He ran off as Babette followed close behind.
They stopped in the corridor lined with bedrooms.
"So who is your first suspect, inspecteur?" Babette joked with a playful smirk as Lumière went up to a bedroom door.
"I think the proper word is 'victim' if not 'suspect.' But to answer your question, it's Michelle."
"I knew I recognized this hallway," she observed with distaste. "You think she turned completely into an object too?"
"Oui. Shall we find out?" He opened the door and showed Babette in before walking in himself.
Again, the only light in the room was Lumière.
"Why does she keep the curtains shut?" Babette asked.
"She probably went to bed early for her 'beauty rest' when the spell was cast," Lumière informed. "She closed the curtains so the sun wouldn't be shining on her."
"Like sleep would have helped," she muttered.
Lumière climbed the vanity until he was on the countertop. He had expected a word from Michelle by now, but none came. He shined the light towards the top of the mirror.
There was no face of Michelle.
"She's gone," Lumière reported with dread.
"It isn't much of a loss," Babette admitted to cover the feelings of terror rising in her.
Lumière hopped down. If he felt at all what Babette was feeling, he was maintaining it extremely well. "Though it pains me to say, I would have to agree."
"Does this help prove your theory?"
"Oui, it does."
"Perhaps you can tell me what your theory is," Babette prompted as they left the bedroom.
"I was going to tell you after I determined it true or false."
"Oh," she said, understanding, a smile growing. "So you do not want to be wrong."
"I do not mind being wrong," he replied defensively.
"But you like to be right."
"As all people do," he reasoned.
"You know I will not think of you any less if you are wrong." She laughed. "Does this seem familiar?"
"I never expected to be on the other end of this," he commented. "All right, I will tell you. I believe that Madame Margaux and Michelle changed into objects earlier than us because they were being 'inhumane,' or not being a human enough. This might have spurred the curse to hasten their... transformation."
"That is probably what happened, Lumière," Babette agreed with a sense of wonder, quite impressed. "I think you are right."
"I usually am," Lumière shrugged nonchalantly but felt encouraged by Babette's praise, "but I only need a little more proof to know without question."
"Continue on, inspecteur."
Babette followed as Lumière led her to the kitchens.
"Let me take a guess at this one," Babette volunteered. "Are we checking on Jacques?"
"And you said you weren't smart," Lumiere confirmed with a smile.
"If he is not turned into an object yet, don't start fighting again," she warned with a look.
"Only if he does not start flirting with you first," he matched as he opened the doors.
No one was getting breakfast ready yet, which meant it was before seven-thirty.
"Let us check quickly before the others arrive," Lumière instructed, rushing over to Jacques' drawer.
Babette waited as he struggled to pull the drawer open. She was about to offer to help, but she found her reflection on a stack of steel pots, and pitifully kept her mouth shut. This day is getting worse by the minute, she thought.
Suddenly, Lumière's efforts managed to achieve the task, but he found himself flipping over the open drawer to dangle from the handle.
The maid swore then she could feel her own heart pound, though she was too alarmed at that moment to rejoice in such a humanly sensation. "Do not hurt yourself, chéri, please be careful!"
He threw a cavalier grin in her direction. "Do not worry, ma plumette. Everything is under control."
Somehow in his form, he had the strength and agility to climb on top of the drawer.
After a moment of silence from him, she prompted anxiously, "Is he in there?"
"Oui," he replied, face falling. "But he is gone too."
"So you are right then," she said as he climbed back down to her level. "All of the servants who are rude, conceited and, well, inhumane are becoming objects much more quickly than the rest of us. I wonder how many others are gone, too."
"Well, I just want to check on one more servant, and he should be coming in right about… now."
Cogsworth waltzed in through the kitchen doors.
"Sacre bleu," Lumière muttered under his breath as Babette laughed, recovering well from the ominous morning.
"All right, everyone, out of your cupboards!" the clock ordered.
Dishes, cups and silverware burst out of the cabinets in an organized synchronization. Cogsworth spotted Lumière and waddled over, looking mildly surprised.
"Well, well, you aren't being fashionably late today. I must say I'm surprised. Why, might I ask, because it's so rare, are you here early?"
Lumière turned to Babette and quickly whispered, "How could he not be one of them?"
She only giggled, trying to hide her laughter at Cogsworth's confused expression as he glanced between the couple.
Lumière faced Cogsworth, acting as if he hadn't said anything. "First of all, have you heard of the tragedy in the maids' room?"
"What tragedy?" Cogsworth asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Madame Margaux was... how do I say... turned into a feather duster."
Cogsworth raised an eyebrow, not seeing the point, "So I've heard."
Lumière shook his head. "No, I mean, she is a feather duster. She is gone."
Becoming more perturbed, Cogsworth stared. "What do you mean?"
"The spell took all of the... humanity, the life, out of her."
The clock's face visibly drooped. "You mean she's…"
"Oui. Gone," Lumière reiterated, understanding the gravity of what he was saying was hard to grasp. "We checked on Michelle and Jacques and they are gone as well."
"You're being serious?" Cogsworth checked, gradually becoming horrified. "This isn't some joke?"
"I do not joke about lives, Cogsworth. These servants are practically dead as of last night. For forever? I do not know."
"Oh this is tragic, terrible, dreadful, absolutely appalling! We have to alert everyone—"
"I do not think that is wise," Lumière advised, trying to keep calm for the major domo's sake.
In his panic, Cogsworth looked to him, as though forgetting their respective authorities. "And how is it not wise?"
"If you tell everyone, you will only worry them..." A realization came upon Lumière. "Keep everyone working. I think that is why the others changed before us. Michelle wasn't doing anything, being confined in a bedroom with no contact with anyone, so who knows how long she has been gone. Jacques wasn't doing his duties either, and he was self-absorbed and obscene. Madame Margaux was doing her job, but was—well, her actions have said enough, as I have told you."
"And you believe this is why they changed before us?"
"Oui."
"You figured this all out on your own?" Cogsworth asked with genuine surprise.
"Yes, Cogsworth," Lumière said, growing irritated. "I am actually still capable of human thought. Unfortunately, the same cannot be said about you."
Babette fought to stifle a laugh as Cogsworth huffed at the comment. "You know what, Lumière? I don't have time to think up witty replies when I have breakfast to prepare."
"I would think you had plenty of time, being a clock."
"Ha ha, save your stupid puns," Cogsworth muttered annoyingly as he turned on his heel and walked away to order the dishes and utensils around.
"Do you have to stay and prepare the food?" Babette asked.
"Not if you don't want me to," he said with a grin, putting an arm around her.
"Oh, I do not want to be the reason you are not working."
"I think Cogsworth can handle one meal without me," Lumière replied, heading for the doors.
"If you are sure…"
"You are all the reassurance I need, chérie," he said, holding the kitchen door open for her. "Besides, I believe you are the reason I am not yet... gone."
She turned to him. "What exactly do you mean?"
"Well," he began as he closed the door. "You know how Michelle, Jacques, and Margaux have changed because they were not acting how a respectable person should. What if the only reason the rest of us are not is because we were doing humanly things?" He gave her a sly look. "Like having a banter with a certain mademoiselle."
"So you are saying if we keep doing what we have been doing, we will not change completely into objects?"
"That is exactly what I'm saying."
"Well," she said, scooting closer. "That is reassuring, and remarkably simple."
"I told you not to worry."
"I will never doubt you again."
Babette had a strange urge to kiss him, but for reasons that didn't involve making someone else jealous. This disturbed her immensely and questions arose in her, along with the image of herself on the pots' surfaces. Instantly, she became extremely self-conscious and looked to the floor, thinking that she shouldn't.
This led Lumière to wonder what had made her look away, ashamed, and immediately thought of what he could have done wrong to get that kind of reaction from her.
"Lumière," Babette finally said. "Maybe you should help make the Master's breakfast. I am sure they would need your assistance."
Hesitant, he reluctantly replied, "You are probably right."
"Meet me in the gardens afterwards," she said, checking herself to make sure it didn't come out as a question.
"As you wish, mon amour." Lumière made a small motion to reach for her hand and kiss it farewell, but stopped himself quickly, hoping she hadn't seen it.
"Adieu for now," Babette said as she turned and walked away.
He sighed as he watched her sweep away and hopped into the kitchen, sliding down the door to the ground.
She had left him so puzzled and confused. Everything had been like normal and then she suddenly had gotten self-conscious, practically unable to meet his eye.
And he forgot she didn't have hands? He was an idiot for even allowing that thought to enter his mind, much more for actually acting on it. He desperately hoped Babette hadn't noticed in fear of offending her and making her even more ashamed of her form.
Oh, the limitations of their current state! Babette was right. They couldn't love each other properly like this.
How much longer will these restrictions last? was Lumière's last thought as he went to help with the meal.
Babette wondered why she had been so unsure when she was about to kiss him. She had thought about many things of why not to, such as she was still holding onto what she had been before, the girl no man could have, and she feared the reactions she might receive from him.
But why? Where did this sudden lack of confidence come from, along with all of these second thoughts? It made her uneasy that she had suddenly melted right at the thought of kissing him. She had wanted to. She had the urge.
But did he want to? Would he think she wasn't as strong-willed and resistant as he had thought? She wanted to keep that reputation. That is what helped separate her from every other girl. That is what made her intriguing. It would be like breaking an unwritten rule.
Besides, if she was going to kiss him, it had to be in the right circumstances. This spell was not—at all. It would have to be perfect, if it happened at all. Also, the feeling had to be mutual.
Babette thought in the back of her mind that she was just making excuses for herself and should simply go for it without any hesitation whatsoever. But she had to contradict it.
When the time was right, she told herself. If it was meant to happen, it would all work out.