Chapter 6: A Most Peculiar Mademoiselle

Belle's countenance was deceptively still. Her only movement was the rapid rise and fall of her chest and the blinking of her cat-like eyes. Anger and irritation crashed over her in waves.

Two things she was certain of...

One: Gaston had gone too far this time.

And Two: She was going to kill him.

"Amazing." Belle spoke, sounding embarrassingly breathless. She crossed her arms over her heaving breast and looked Gaston full in the eyes. "How did you guess?"

Gaston gaped, open-mouthed at the fuming woman in front of him and ran a rough hand through his hair. Belle could see from his expression that he was at a loss for words. After shaking his head he stared back at her in bewilderment.

"How did I guess what, woman?" He questioned, flabbergasted.

Belle refused to clarify. He knew perfectly well what she was talking about. It was all so hilarious. She stood before him, tiny and furious, hands clenched on her elbows. Gaston moved to take a step toward her but wisely thought the better of it and stayed put.

"Belle, it was just a kiss. Even your father wouldn't fault us that today." He insisted.

Her father? Belle thought, quickly creating a scenario in her mind.

That explained it then. Her father must have spoken to him about his ridiculous ideas for her future and Gaston must have thought up this farce to tease her. If she were honest with herself she would admit the humor if it all. She might have even laughed if it hadn't been for that kiss.

Belle had been scorched by it. She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and soothed it distractedly with her tongue. It was still warm.

No, she wouldn't think of it. Belle gathered her thick mane and twisted it over one shoulder. She wondered absently when she would be able to breathe normally again.

It took a moment to see Gaston clearly, but when she did, it became obvious that he, himself, had not come away unscathed. His eyes were glowing with residual heat as they stared at Belle's imprisoned lip. His body was taut and restrained. He seemed to be holding himself back from her as his hands clenched into fists at his side. She could feel his controlled energy.

"Today?" Belle asked carefully, confused. Why was he continuing on with the joke?

A slow smile grew across Gaston's lips and he let go a little chuckle. He placed his hands on his hips and leaned forward. When he spoke it was with a gentle tone, one that he would usually reserve for a child or an invalid. Belle wondered silently which of those he thought she was.

"The day of our engagement, Belle. Your father will understand a simple…" Gaston's voice trailed off and his smile became roguish.

"Well, maybe simple isn't the word." His eyes returned to her mouth. "What would you call that kiss? Intense? Illuminating?" He stepped forward bravely.

"Irritating." she supplied "Enough, Gaston. Time to go."

Belle marched to the door, grabbing his coat from the hook where it hung. She held it out to him and motioned pointedly to the door. Gaston did not reach for it. Instead, he rocked back on his heels and rubbed his chin. This was an old habit of his that today Belle found particularly annoying. She gave a deep sigh, strode up to him and tossed the coat at his wide expanse of chest.

"Now!" She demanded angrily.

The infuriating man finally stopped his frustrating gesture and for an instant, Belle saw doubt cross his handsome features before it was immediately replaced by his usual confidence. Gripping his coat in one large hand, he closed the gap between them. Belle kept her ground and stood toe to toe with the hulking man.

"Playing hard to get? It's a little late for that. I've got you, girl. Just like you've got me."

He reached forward a hand and smoothed back a wild curl. His expression was serious and for once, held no sign of humor.

Belle blinked up at him and felt a stunning realization come over her.

It was possible Gaston was not indulging in his lifelong obsession with teasing her.

No? Yes! Belle debated in her mind. He was sincere. His kiss had been genuine. He wanted her? He wanted to marry her? No, he had already decided they would marry. Her eyes widened and she moved a hand to her heart.

Oh, that man! He was beyond infuriating. She really might have to kill him.

Belle was looking at him with those beautiful hazel eyes. He saw them fill with understanding.

She is speechless in her joy, Gaston decided.

He smiled to encourage his little friend but Belle remained quiet. When the silence stretched on to an uncomfortable length he began to speak of all of the times to come.

"Think of it, Belle. A rustic hunting lodge. A fresh kill on the fire. Our little ones playing on the floor with the dogs." He stopped then and grinned at her rosy blush before continuing on without mercy. "We'll have six or seven of them of course."

The words had the right effect. Belle came out of her silence and spoke with a choked voice. "Dogs?"

Gaston howled with laughter and threw an arm across her shoulders. He walked her to the old worn out chair by the fire. His sharp eyes noticed, not for the first time, the humble state of her cottage.

She will never have to live in such a home again, he smiled to himself.

When he brought her to his house as his wife she would have only the most beautiful furnishings. He would fill their enormous lodge with anything she desired. It would burst with new furs, dishes, linens. She could even have some books, he thought briefly.

"No Belle, strapping boys." He winked at her, "Like me."

Belle sat down in a heap on the seat he offered and avoided his gaze. "Imagine that," she answered dully.

"I do. All the time, Belle." He stood over her and reached for her hand. "I promise, you'll be happy."

Belle pulled her hand away and shook her head. "Gaston, I'm-I'm sorry."

Gaston peered down at her in confusion. "What could you possibly be sorry for?"

Coming out of her daze, Belle met and held his eyes. Her expression almost shook him.

"I can't marry you. I thought you were joking. But how could you be serious? We've never even spoken of this." She paused and frowned up at him. "Gaston, what are you thinking?"

For a moment Gaston did not comprehend her words. The woman was so peculiar. What could she possibly mean by saying no to him? He knelt down in front of her, dropping his coat and one knee to the old rug. It was suddenly very hot by the fire. A bead of sweat ran between his shoulder blades and a feeling of foreboding began to form in his chest.

"What I'm thinking is that we should marry. What else would I think?" Gaston held his deep voice under control and did not allow it to rise in his confusion.

He watched her shake her head. As long as she doesn't start pulling on her hair, we are okay. He comforted himself. What was wrong with her?

He thought back to their earlier conversations and tried to recall anything that might have upset her.

A memory nagged at him from the corner of his mind. The triplets! Could she be punishing him for interacting with them? Jealous? Was she irritated that he brought their attention to her?

Gaston knew Belle held no deep love for them, and that the feeling was more than mutual. How could he have been so thoughtless? He just meant to tease her a little. Gaston put on his most contrite expression and set about reassuring her.

"Belle, any girl in town would want to be in your shoes, but I don't want them. I want you. You're the best. The most beautiful girl in town." In the world, he thought silently.

"Look, I'm sorry about the triplets. Don't hold it against me for keeps. Marry me," he grinned mischievously, "and you can make me miserable afterward."

For a moment he saw a small smile twitch at the side of Belle's mouth and he felt triumph rush over him. He knew how to reach his girl. Then the smile disappeared and Belle ran a hand into her riot of curls. To his vexation, he saw her grab a lock and twist it in her fingers.

Oh, no.

He grabbed her hand, turning the palm into his."Well?"

Belle pulled her hand away and crossed her arms. "Well? Well, what Gaston? You've lost your mind. You know we couldn't possibly marry. We would drive each other mad. On purpose. Honestly, I half want to murder you right now and all you did was tell me I'm pretty."

"Beautiful." He corrected naturally.

"See, you've already gone crazy." Belle shook her head.

Gaston frowned in confusion. Did she honestly think she wasn't the loveliest creature...

"We wouldn't fit and you know it. We differ too greatly." She continued, breaking into his thoughts.

"Is that so?"

"You know it is, Gaston. You're the best hunter in the land. I could never hurt an animal." She listed to his exasperation. "I've never seen you so much as hold a book, whereas I have almost burnt the house down trying to read while cooking!"

"Really? When was..." Gaston started but Belle turned her eyes up to him and his breath caught. Her gaze was filled with sadness.

She paused, her eyes drifting down as she continued. "Everyone knows and loves you. They all think I'm odd."

"You are wonderfully odd and everyone does love me." He agreed with his usual casual conceit and a nod. "That includes you, Belle. Doesn't that count for something? Couldn't you go on a hunt with me if I flipped through a book once in a while for you?"

Belle tilted her head to observe him with tenderness.

"I do love you, Gaston. I want to spend my life by you. Talking to you. Making you angry. Making you laugh." Belle began, and Gaston felt his heart soar. It was the first time she had ever said it to him out loud. Then as quickly as it ascended it fell with her next words. "Being your best friend, until someone better suited for that spot comes along. Then I'll love her too, for making you happy."

"Belle..." Gaston spoke her name sharply, pushing his black hair back in anger.

"Someone who can love all the things about you that make me furious." Belle continued hurriedly and grabbed his hand, watching as it engulfed her own. "That's who you deserve, Gaston. And I know," She squeezed his large hand with both of her own, "I know, she's going to be amazing."

"Think maybe she'll rub my feet while she's at it?" Gaston asked, halfheartedly, then his look became almost disdainful. "I'd never look at her, Belle. I want you."

"I'm sorry, Gaston."

Belle really did appear to be sorry. It didn't help. Gaston was not used to failing. In fact, he could not remember the last time he had, if ever. He could not fail at this, not when it meant so much. Not when he wanted it so much. And she did too. He was positive. She had said she loved him. Forget what had followed, that was inconsequential.

She loved him. He saw it every time he made her laugh, every time she blushed under his gaze. He had felt it on her lips when he kissed her.

"Don't be sorry Belle. Be honest with yourself. You say I am your friend? LeFou is my friend and I don't kiss him. This isn't friendship." He leaned forward and put his elbows on either arm of the chair, his face inches from her own. He saw her slant away and he pulled her forward with a hand on her arm. Her breath hitched at his nearness and the temperature of the room rose even more.

"This is heat." He inched closer and felt her soft breath on his lips. "This is desire." His was so near now and she didn't pull away. His thoughts became foggy. "This is passion." He whispered deeply, his voice lowering until it vibrated against her mouth.

Her lashes drifted shut and with a sweep of an arm she was in his embrace.

His lips pressed over hers in fevered desperation. He would show her she wanted him too. He would teach her what life could be like between them.

His lips moved silkily across hers, expertly dividing them and exploring her depths. He tasted her. She was honeyed brandy. His head swam from the feel of the body pressed against him and the mouth that moved under his, so timidly and sweetly. Her response drove him mad.

Clutching his shirt front in her precious hand, she was both pulling and pushing him. If Belle was at war with herself, he felt he was on the winning side. When she pulled her lips away to catch her breath he used the opportunity to nip lightly at her earlobe. "This is where you 'fit'." He whispered onto her smooth neck. "Where you will always fit."

Belle gasped and pulled back, staring at him with passion glazed eyes. He smiled in return and kissed her shocked lips tenderly. There would be plenty of time to explore later. For now, he just wanted the promise that she was his.

His lips lifted slightly and he whispered in his most seductive tone, "This is love." He felt her shake her head. Taking her face in his hands he dropped another kiss on her stubborn lips. "This is love, Belle."

Her voice was so small and breathless that even with her pressed to his heart he had to strain to hear her. Then he wished he hadn't.

"Th-this is wrong." She whispered softly.

Gaston looked down at her, outraged. The bull headed woman was still protesting. What was worse, tears began to form in her eyes. He pushed her curls back from her face to see her more clearly and felt his heart clench with an unfamiliar pain.

He had lost.

He let her go and watched as she weakly grasped the arms of the chair. Pushing back to his feet in anger, he stood and strode away from her. He turned and glared back.

"Is there someone else?" The question was ludicrous. Who could she want more than him? Belle took a moment to answer and the few seconds were enough to push him over the edge.

"No. There is no one."

He released a heavy breath and swung his arms wide. "Then I don't understand. Are you as crazy as your father?"

As soon as he spoke them, he regretted the words. Belle's eyes lost all sympathy and blazed with renewed anger. The temper he had come to know very well, rose.

"My father's not crazy and neither am I. Do you think I'm a lunatic for not wanting to marry the perfect Gaston? Hah!" She stood as well and placed her hands on her hips. Gaston would have laughed at the fierceness of the little woman before him if she wasn't in the process of breaking his heart.

"Well, I'll have you know that I am perfectly sane. Sane and not interested." Belle stomped her foot. "So, you can keep your lodge, your dogs, all of it. I don't want them. And you can go."

Belle scooped up his jacket and marched to the door. Flinging it open, she held the garment outside and waited impatiently for him to follow.

Gaston's own anger was boiling as he strode his heavily booted feet out the door. Snatching the jacket from her hand, he turned to face her furious eyes.

"Fine. But I won't be asking again for a while. You'll have a nice long time to regret this. Then, if you're lucky, maybe I'll put you out of your misery. If I don't find someone else first!" Let her think on that! He thought silently and strode down the steps without looking back.

"Good luck!" Belle called back and slammed the door.

"Hang it all!" He grumbled when he heard the door slam behind him and shrugged into his fine coat. Tearing down the curved road toward town he ignored all onlookers and headed straight to the pub. Damn if it was early in the day. That girl could drive a man to drink!

A.N. : I don't own any of this. All characters and settings belong to The Walt Disney Co.

Hello, readers. First off, ouch! That hurt. Someone just got the "let's be friends" speech. What are your thoughts about Belle's response? Totally justified or kinda harsh? I hope Gaston can get some aloe for those burns! Let me know what you think and Gaston will buy you a dog, or maybe six or seven...As always thank you for reading, reviewing, following and/or favoriting!- S