Chapter Seven: The Truth Lives

Babette fidgeted nervously as she waited in the den, trying to keep her mind on a positive focus. The room held so many memories to reminisce upon. The first day she had come, taking on full responsibility for it. The night of the ball, she had fallen in love with Lumière within these walls. Although it frightened her then, she smiled as she remembered their first kiss. Not coy or unsure, but heated and passionate with every ounce of sensual bliss.

She had refused him then, afraid of her feelings; why could she not have done so a few months ago? Why didn't she say no when she had the chance? He had repeatedly tried to dissuade her until neither his nor her will power could withstand their minds' protest.

Curling up on the chaise, cuddling a pillow close in his place, she bit her lip sadly, allowing her tears to fall. There were no second chances this time around. There was another life, another being to care for, and she moaned pitifully at her selfishness. She could not wait to be one with the man she loved, and therefore, had to accept the hand she was dealt.

Marriage. Babette swallowed fearfully, presently scared of the one thing she had wanted most in the world, to be his and only his forever. Before, it was a dream, the only wish she desired since the spell had ended. Now it seemed more of a requirement, the only solution left in her current condition.

She was bawling so hard that her sobs exhausted her, and she closed her eyes for a moment, not even opening them when she heard the door open and silently click shut behind her. Taking a deep breath, she felt a hand caress her arm, and she reached to grasp it for comfort, falling into slumber.

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"I do not see what you are so upset about," Angelique said, going through the papers as she and Lumière rearranged them before anyone noticed they were gone. With a few minutes till his meeting, and always the kind one, he had agreed to help. "He seems like a perfect gentleman."

"You did not have to ride with him, or ignore his snobbish comments while carrying his bags up the stairs," he replied with a sigh. "Perhaps I am being foolish, but there is just something about him that worries me. His name for example—"

Angelique raised an eyebrow. "His name worries you?"

"Yes…I mean no," Lumière groaned in frustration. "I don't know, maybe a little! His last name is de Crochet; that was the family she had worked for before coming here."

Angelique could not resist a tease as she closed more papers into a drawer. "Maybe she knows him, yes?"

Lumière glared at her, a single word conveying all that he had to say. "Don't."

She waved another paper as if it were a flag of surrender. "I was joking, but I would not worry so much if I were you. If he is anything like you said, viewing us as things instead of people," she laughed thumbing through the rest looking for the note. "Then you know he will get his in the end from me."

Lumière smirked. "I fear for him." He held out his hand for the note, but only received a confused expression as she repetitively kept going through each remaining paper. "Please say you did not lose it."

"I did not!" she screeched indignantly, attempting her final search to no avail. "All right, I lost it; it must have fallen out when I bounced into Jacques in the hallway."

Lumière paled, white as snow. "Then that means…" Not thinking twice, he raced for the door in a hurried exit.

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Babette yawned softly, stretching a bit as she awoke. Rubbing her eyes, she smiled gently. "I am so sorry, mon cher; I have not been sleeping well lately…"

"You never could."

She froze stiffly, keeping her hands over her eyes. That voice…one she had not heard in the longest time…one she prayed she would never have to hear again…

The chaise cushions altered slightly as it expectedly did when someone sat down, and Babette felt two strong hands remove her own to restore her vision. Jacques smiled with adoration. "Mon amour…" He let one hand slide across her forehead to her cheek where it rested in familiar territory. "Mon Dieu, look at you…attractive as ever if not more."

Babette tried to pull away, but his grip still overpowered her own as he held fast to her hand. "I thought I told you that I never—"

"Wanted to see me again?" Jacques finished with a laugh. "My pet, how cliché you have become! What happened to that intense wit of yours?"

"What are you doing here?!" she hissed, angered at not receiving a direct answer.

"Why else would I be here?" he whispered, pulling her close. "I came to take you home."

"I am home."

Jacques leaned in close to her ear, breathing. "Your real home."

Babette shoved him away. "Did you tell the prince the same thing? What was your excuse to him? You quite the talent in that field."

With every jostle she made, she finally noticed that his grip tightened, this time to the point of pain. He nipped at her throat hungrily. "That is none of your concern. All you have to worry, my precious, is that I am kept content while I am here…or else, your master will suffer for it." He growled in a sickeningly blend of anger and lust, "And you know very well what keeps me content, don't you?"

"Get away!!"

With every ounce of force she had, Babette managed to free herself, but before she could reach the door, Jacques made one lunge to bring her back to his arms. As his strength outmatched hers, she could do little when he held her to him, roughly stealing the kiss that no longer belonged to him. She struggled as much as she could, stopping when she felt him cease his attack.

Putting her at arms' length, Jacques slowly let his hand drift over her midsection. He knew every inch of this woman's body by heart even after all these years. Any ordinary man off the street could have glanced at her, touched her so intimately, and noticed nothing. This part of her was not the same as it had been before, and as he glowered his eyes deeply into hers, she defiantly returned the favor.

"You…are pregnant?"

"Yes."

At first only disbelief filled his façade, but then silent, terrifying laughter made its way to his throat.

"You little harlot," Jacques murmured tauntingly, "You have finally done it, taken over your family's true business, following in the strumpet shoes of your mother!"

Her right hand launched a direct, crushing smack to the side of his face, but her bravery only earned her an excruciating smashing thrust into the wall as he gripped her shoulders tightly, forcing her to react in tears.

"Do you know who he is?"

Babette sobbed painfully. "I don't know what you mean!"

"Yes you do! Who is he? Who is the whelp's father?!"

Before she could answer, Jacques gasped in shock as he rightfully received a taste of his own medicine. It was his turn to be thrown against the wall, his breaths coming shorter as he felt a grip around his neck, Lumière's hand being the culprit.

"You are looking at him," he snarled to the point where even Babette herself had cringed intimidated. "I do not care who you are…or more appropriately, what you are, for you are certainly not a man! If you so much as lay one disgusting finger on her again, I will personally see to your execution myself!" Releasing him, and not giving him a moment to breathe, Lumière literally threw him out the door before running to his beloved's side.

Babette never clutched him so close before as she sobbed into his shoulder. "I am so sorry! You should not have found out like this; I should have told you! Mon cher, forgive me, please!"

Lumière gathered her into his arms gently and carried her to the chaise. Rocking her softly, he whispered, "Nothing to forgive…sh-sh-sh…dry your tears, come on. No more of that."

She looked up at him, shaking with fatigue from crying. "It is yours, I swear…!"

"I know, I know; I do not need proof of that," he crooned quietly, doing everything he could to calm her down. It took some time, but the tears slowly came to a halt. Lumière placed a gentle kiss on her forehead before he continued, "But really now, ma plumette, if you wanted to propose yourself, then all you had to do was ask. I did not need such a wonderful gift as this!"

Babette stared at him, allowing his words to piece themselves together in her mind. "What did you say?"

"I said," he began, cuddling her onto his lap. "If you wanted me to marry you, the best way is to ask! I do not need to be spoiled with such wonderful news."

"Stop, I am not jesting…"

"Neither am I." As she took a deep breath, attempting to prevent more tears, he laughed a bit under his breath. "I suppose it is true; expectant women are quite emotional."

Babette continued carefully, praying this was not a dream. "You really mean it? You want to get married…and not just because of the baby?"

"It was a plan of mine, absolutely," he grinned softly as he caressed her middle affectionately. "Our baby is another miracle in addition to you saying yes to the proposal. Will you say it?"

She smiled tearfully. "Ask me properly, and I most certainly will."

Lumière sighed in mock frustration. "Once a tease, always a tease!" For a moment, he seemed to be searching for something, but then looked at his hand where his father's ring, simple but beautiful, rested. "This will work for now." He took it off his own finger and placed it onto hers. "Ma plumette, mon amour… vous fera m'épouse?"

Babette wasted not a second more as she held him close. "Absolument…"

A/N: Realized as I finished this at about 10 after 5 AM, that this sounds like the end. It's not ) We're over the long stretch but there is still a bit to go, so please stick around )