Author's Note: I entirely blame this on lj user"bearzakumamori" and "eclipseetoile" for posting Yoshinaga Fumi's manga "Gerard et Jacques" on yaoidaily and getting me hooked beyond belief. It's their entire fault I'm wasting time in my history class writing fanfiction when I should be studying what really happened during the French Revolution! Um...additionally, Rousseau was a revolutionary essayist in the days prior to the Revolution, and both "The Social Contract" and "A Dissertation..." are by him. The latter came prior, and for those who haven't read the manga it was the first book Gerard recommended Jacques read after catching him flipping through former.

Joyeux Anniversaire

"Charlotte, you shouldn't have!"

The Anglade estate cook giggled behind her hand happily at the tall, dark haired man staring mingled surprise and dismay at the sumptuous display. "Please, Jacques, it's your birthday. You're supposed to indulge yourself."

"Yes, but..." Jacques' lips twitched and his eyes sparkled, but there was still a strain of anxiety underneath the surface. "We can't possibly eat all of this, and you'll have to do twice the number of dishes as usual..."

"I don't mind missing out on some personal time." Charlotte smiled disarmingly. "Besides, what we don't eat tonight can be saved for tomorrow."

"Or later tonight?"

The cook turned and slapped at the manservant's hand. "Paul, really!"

That did it. Jacques stopped holding back and broke into a wide grin. He wrapped his arms around Charlotte and hugged her affectionately. "It looks wonderful, Charlotte. Thank you very much."

Charlotte gave him a brief squeeze back. "Happy birthday, Jacques."

"You need to take some time off from work, Jacques, really." Paul moved closer and held out a wrapped package. "You've accepted Charlotte's gift. Will you accept mine?"

"Paul!" Jacques released Charlotte and smiled with surprise. "You too?"

"Well, we've gotten you gifts every other year since you've come here," the elder manservant chided, "why should we do anything differently now?"

"But usually..." ...usually they go just as all out, Jacques reminded himself, and he nodded sheepishly at Paul. "You're right. Thank you."

"Oh, open it!" Charlotte cried, eyes sparkling like a young woman half her age. "Paul, I can't wait any longer to see his reaction!"

Sitting at his place at the decorated table, Jacques carefully unwrapped the brown paper from the box and folded it before setting it down before him. He lifted the lid from the box and stared inside with wide eyes for a moment, speechless.

"Well?" Charlotte asked anxiously. "You do like it, don't you?"

"Charlotte!" Paul hissed, flustered.

Suddenly, Jacques jumped up and threw his arms around Paul. "It's wonderful! Where did you find it?"

"We...had it made..." Paul gasped in surprise, staggering a bit under the young man's weight. "I asked Charlotte to give your last measurements to Monsieur Anglade's tailor some time ago."

A fleeting worry about how much a brand new, tailor-made, forest green coat with gold brocade must have cost went through Jacques mind, but he left it unspoken. It would only offend Paul, and he liked the old man too much to want to do that, especially after such a wonderful gift. "It's marvelous, Paul, it truly is. I'll never know where to wear something that nice!"

Paul laughed and patted him on the back before moving back so that they stood apart again. "I'm glad you like it, and one can always use a nice coat, just in case. Happy birthday, Jacques."

Charlotte clapped brusquely and gestured towards the table again. "All right, enough of that. Let's begin, before the magret de canard gets cold."

Jacques glanced around, and a line appeared on his forehead. "Where is Monsieur Anglade?"

"Ah..." Paul paused halfway seated in his chair. "He must still be in the library. Shall I fetch him?"

"No, that's fine." Jacques hesitated for a moment before deciding. "I'll go find him."

Charlotte called after him as he walked quickly towards the door. "Shall I begin serving now, then, so that everything is ready when you and Monsieur Anglade return?"

Jacques glanced back and smiled. "That's a wonderful idea. Please do, Charlotte."

The two servants watched him leave without moving. After a moment, Paul turned to Charlotte. "Shouldn't you begin the serving? Like you said to Jacques."

Charlotte simply turned towards Paul without speaking and stared at him for a long moment. He met her eyes without flinching. They could hear Jacques' footsteps recede down the hall, then disappear completely. Charlotte reached down to pick up her shoes as Paul slipped out of his own.

Only then did they going chasing after the youngest servant, bare feet nearly silent on the cold floors.

Even after all his years working at the Anglade estate, the library still took his breath away. Jacques had seen larger ones, but it never ceased to amaze him how much Gerard had in his personal collection. All three servants had free access to it as well during their free time, and it was Jacques' favorite room in the entire house. He let the door swing closed behind him, and let a shiver move up his spine as he began to walk through the stacks. "Gerard?"

The shelves towered high above him, and even though they had been taller when he had first arrived as a boy on the verge of manhood, they still seemed to reach into the sky. The extra benefits of working for a best-selling author, he mused, and continues his search.

"Gerard, Charlotte's finished preparing the meal for tonight. We should hurry or the main course will get cold."

There was no answer. Jacques stopped in the middle of the room, just before the next row of shelves began, and looked around. "Gerard? Are you in here, Gerard?"

Silence greeted him. Jacques put a hand to his lips thoughtfully. If Paul said that Gerard was in the library, then he almost certainly had been until recently. But where else would he go? There were no social engagements, Charlotte had confided in Jacques that Paul had been sure to clear the schedule for his birthday, and he wouldn't be bathing this early.

Maybe he's gone back to work, Jacques thought briefly, and turned towards the back of the library and the door into the study. His shoe clipped one of the bookshelves, and a volume balanced precariously on the edge tipped forward onto the floor.

He bent to pick it up, and paused as he spotted the title. "The Social Contract. Rousseau."

A faint blush crept over his cheeks as a whispered memory passed by. "The Social Contract? That's far too advanced for a first read."

Jacques shook his head quickly, embarrassed, and carefully set the book more securely back into place. He stared at the collection of Rousseau for a moment longer, and a voice suddenly whispered low in his ear.

"Do you realize you've been here ten years now?"

"Waaaaaugh!"

Gerard Anglade winced and glared at the younger man as he jumped back and crashed into the bookshelf again, sending several on the other side crashing to the ground. Jacques stared at him with wide, startled eyes, and put a hand to his chest as he tried to catch his breath and willed the bright color in his face to go down again. Gerard stared a moment longer, then sighed. "Well, that answers that question."

"W-what?" Jacques stammered, embarrassed.

The author suddenly grinned wolfishly, his remaining blue eyes glittering. "Your ears clearly aren't just hot spots when you're excited."

Heat flooded Jacques' face again, and he clapped his hands over the objects in question. Gerard!"

Gerard raised his eyebrows, amused. Jacques was clearly flustered, but he stood up straight and stepped away from the bookshelf. "You can't say...Ch-Charlotte and Paul are here..."

"They know we're lovers." Gerard looked at him with mock confusion. "Should it matter?"

"B-but-"

"Oh, really, don't mind us!"

"Charlotte, hush! You'll embarrass the boy!"

Both men turned towards the door, and Gerard promptly began to laugh. Jacques was certain he couldn't possibly go any more red, but he couldn't help but smile too.

Once Gerard had stopped laughing, Jacques turned to him critically. "That's what happens when you write such filthy erotica. Your servants turn into perverts just like you."

"Oh, you like it when they listen in."

Apparently there was still more blood that hadn't rushed into Jacques face. It did so then. "I do not!"

"We'll have to try it sometime."

"Gerard!"

The silver-haired writer grinned wider. "Still so bashful. Nothing cures that like public-"

Jacques clapped his hands over his ears again, as much in protection as to keep from hearing. "Charlotte says we need to hurry to dinner."

"We will." Gerard turned and began picking through one of the shelves. "I have a gift for you, Jacques."

The embarrassment faded and Jacques leaned forward curiously, feeling a little thrill of expectation run through him. "You do?"

"Shouldn't I?"

"Well, that is..." Jacques wiped the back of his hand over his mouth and frowned in perplexity. "You haven't before."

Gerard continued to look at the books carefully, squinting to study them more closely. "Which...no...what do you mean? I've given you the day off, I've made sure that Charlotte makes you extra cakes, and last year I bought you those new shoes, remember?"

Jacques looked down at the shoes in question and smiled a little. "Well, I suppose you have. You've just never given them to me in person before."

"Then it's more than past time. You've been here for ten years, if we aren't familiar enough now to do this in person I should find another servant. Ah!" Gerard turned without taking a single book from the shelves and instead reached into his coat and drew out something. "There it is."

Jacques stared down at the book as it came to rest in his hands. He ran a hand over the cover, then looked back at Gerard in some confusion. "This is A Dissertation on the Origin and Foundation of the Inequality of Mankind."

"Of course." Gerard stared at him impassively. "Don't you like it?"

"Of course I do..." Jacques brushed a strand of loose black hair out of his face. "But you have your own copy here that I can read. It seems kind of silly for me to have my own."

Gerard sighed and tapped the bookcase behind Jacques. "That is my copy, you idiot."

"What?" Jacques stared down at the book as if suddenly afraid it would burst into flames. "But...I can't accept this, it's yours and-"

"Lord." Gerard all but growled with impatience and put a hand to his forehead in exasperation. "Will you open it already?"

"Ah..." Even as his lips formed the word, "why?" Jacques flipped open the front cover and glanced down at the inscription inside.

To my beloved Jacques.

I treasure this and the memories associated within nearly as much as I treasure you. I hope you will do the same.

With love, Gerard Anglade.

The book closed again with a soft thump as Jacques brought his eyes up to meet Gerard's gaze. He tucked the book beneath one arm, and while his eyes shone, he merely bowed his head slightly. "Thank you, Gerard. It's a wonderful gift."

A long hand brushed the hair from Jacques face and tilted his chin up a bit. "I owe you far more than this trinket. As long as you're alive, you'll be the greatest thing I own."

"Gerard..." Jacques let his eyes closed. "Paul and-"

"I'm sure they've gone," the older man whispered, and stilled any remaining protests with his lips against Jacques'.

Outside the door, Charlotte turned to Paul and hissed under her breath. "I can't hear them anymore! Not even a murmur!"

"We are not going in to see what is going on," Paul lectured quietly, and began to lead her away. "Now, let's start on that delicious magret de canard you made. If we wait until they're done, it will be long cold."

The two servants of the Anglade estate let the two men exchange gifts and made their way back to the birthday feast.