Chapter Five

The days that followed went by fairly quickly, and each day, Babette went about the same routine. Up for breakfast at seven in order to have the master's ready by nine. Onto cleaning and random chores between then and lunch, and more of the same until dinner. Everyone returned to the servants' quarters no later than ten in the evening. Fairly simple and completely boring, at times an occasional mishap or out of the ordinary event managed to keep her sane, but it still did not get more interesting than that.

Lunch had just ended and she made her way to the den, which ever since her arrival, had been the one room she would work on every day. Anyone who knew of its appearance before her arrival could admit that it had definitely shown a pleasant change.

That late afternoon is where no sooner had she started cleaning then Lumière's all too familiar voice noted, "It is true then that you are the one who keeps this room irresistible to look in."

Babette startled for only a moment, but then groaned frustrated as she found him leaning in the doorway. "I'm so glad you approve." She attempted to hide the sarcasm as he was her superior in rank, but failed miserably.

"Who wouldn't? The room never looked better, and if I may say so, the same goes to the lady in charge of it."

"Flattery, hmm? You want something then; what it is?"

He laughed as usual. "Well you're welcome! I would have said something sooner, but when one makes herself avoidable, it is hard to say anything to her."

"I am not making myself avoidable; you can't keep up with me. What do you want?"

He raised an amused eyebrow, simply ignoring the last part as if she had not even said it. "My dear girl, is that a challenge?"

Babette felt her temper gradually drop. "Without meaning to sound rude, I ask that you either tell me what you want or leave me alone. You have your place, monsieur—"

"Lumière," he corrected.

She growled, "Whatever, it doesn't matter! The point is you have your place, I have mine. Unless you ask me to clean up, get back to work, or the like, I want nothing else to do with you. Now for a third time, what do you want?"

Lumière stared before circling her with an expression that Babette read as impassive and sickeningly thoughtful. When she saw that infuriating smirk of his once again, she rolled her eyes, admonishing herself for not seeing it inevitably coming.

"You, mademoiselle, are the most unusual little woman I've ever met."

"And you, monsieur, rank very high on life's exasperation scale."

Lumière kept the grin about his face. "All right, you have made it very clear that you want nothing to do with me."

"Clear as crystal."

"Then does that include any offer I have to make your work any more important?"

Babette slipped from angry to bewildered in a record one second. "What do you mean?"

"Our spring banquet is this coming weekend as you know. My wait staff is short a person to illness, and thus she will be unable to serve that evening. I WAS going to ask you to take her place, but since you want nothing to do with me, perhaps it was too silly a notion to consider."

Mentally, Babette marked this date one of the few times he said something worthwhile. "Actually, I would be honored to accept."

"Honored?" he laughed. "There is hope for me yet in your eyes."

"I never said that," she countered. "I want nothing to do with you personally, monsieur—"

"Lumière."

She sighed. "Fine, Lumière, nothing to do with you personally, but job related, that is another story. I will help if you still need it."

"My thanks, then, of course" he answered. "Please be in the kitchen no later than five o'clock." And with that, he moved to leave, but before he did, he turned and faced her with a smile. "Ambition...I like that." Then he was gone.

Babette let out a breath that she did not even know she was holding. What emotion took hold of her when she saw that smile of his? She was serious; she did not want anything to do with him. He was a real nuisance of a man...but le bon Dieu, he was a good-looking one. She took one deep breath to calm her thoughts; they wouldn't cross her mind anymore if she had any control of them. When you give your love to someone, make people such a part of your life as that, you lose them. She had already lost her family; never again would she go through with it.

The few touch ups Babette had made to her mother's dress were well done, and she herself was taken aback by it. Sewing was not her best talent, but the laces and subtle trinkets she added were done in such precision that she never would have guessed that she had worked on it.

Turning to the mirror, something that she had not done in a long time, Babette took a good look at what time had done to her, almost surprised at her reflection. Edging closer, she reached up and touched her growing hair gently, finding it long again since she hardly had time to cut it. She twisted a small lock in thought. Her mother always wore her hair like this, loose from ribbons, curled slightly, and lengthy, and it almost frightened the poor girl how much looking at a simple reflection made her realize that she looked like a reincarnation. But swallowing her nerves, she ran her hands over her skirt, smoothing any wrinkle out. "May I make you proud tonight, Maman..." she whispered.

Upstairs, the sound of guests arriving caught her ear, drifting her attention away from her thoughts. If dinner was to be on schedule, the servants would have to hurry, and checking herself one last time, she left her room, making her way to the kitchen to join the others. There, she found many she did and did not know, but smiled at the sight of Mrs. Potts calling her over from across the room.

"Babette, thank goodness you made it! We have to start getting everything out there!"

"I haven't a late record yet; I will not ruin that now, and on such an important night."

Mrs. Potts graced her with a smile. "Very good, in that case, you can help me finish arranging some of the plates, and then start bringing the glasses out."

As they started to work on the different plates of food, Cogsworth's authoritative voice rang loud and clear throughout the kitchen as he entered followed by Lumière.

"Look lively now, people!" he cried, "I will not tolerate any laziness this evening; nothing but flawlessness whatsoever!"

Mrs. Potts reassuringly comforted, "You are worrying too much once again; everything is under control, and it shall remain as such. Nothing to fear, everyone is getting a move on, thus the food will be ready before you know it."

Lumière walked forward, attempting to save them from any other thought that might have passed through Cogsworth's mind. "Ah yes it looks very good indeed! You have outdone yourself once again, Mrs. Potts."

She bobbed slightly with a smile. "My thanks as always for the compliment and for finding such lovely help."

Babette looked up, about to thank her, until Lumière's gaze caught hers. How was it that such a pest can look so wonderful? It had to be some kind of conspiracy!

Lumière noticed her as well, and how could he not? Somehow she always managed to look more extraordinary every day. As he walked towards her, she rose from where she was bent over a few appetizers, resembling the doe they had seen that day: an innocent creature on the defense of a possible predator. Lifting her hand from the trays, reveling at how soft they were even after much hard work, he bowed politely, as if she was some aristocratic lady. He felt his lips beg to kiss it but thought better of such an action remembering how this particular woman could be.

"You really...uh..." He could not believe it, stuttering in front of a female, something he had never done before in his life. "You..." Mon Dieu, he wanted to say how he admired her, thought she was the most beautiful person he had ever seen, shower her with anything she wanted to hear! But his nerves got the best of him this time. "You...know how to arrange food as well?"

Babette, again mystically hopeful for a kind word, felt her interest plummet instantly and frowned. "I was only trying to help." Why did her hand wish to stay in his, she wondered...how warm they felt...

"Well!" Mrs. Potts to the rescue, sensing the discomfort in the situation. "He is right; the plates do look splendid. Babette, you have my thanks."

"Not at all, just so long as they are done," Babette replied, at last freeing her hand to take up a tray of wineglasses. "And now it seems like out of the frying pan and into the fire. Should you need more help, please send someone to find me."

"Will do. Now don't forget, smile, be polite, and don't be nervous."

Babette gave her a grateful look. Mrs. Potts was the sweetest person there; every servant knew they could go to her for anything. She could have hugged her then and there. "Well...wish me luck."

"You won't need it; you will do just fine! Now run along."

She nodded and looked back at Lumière, wanting to force a dangerous grimace on him, but could not. Instead, she could only respond, "Excusez moi, monsieur."