Chapter Two

As picturesque as the city could be during the day, life for many did not begin until the sun set to make way for the moon. The stars lit up the sky just enough to awaken the delightfully sinful pleasures that were Paris by night, tucked away until they could rise to play in the darkness.

Pulling gently on his horse's reins, Lucien halted the animal, dismounting to tie it to a post. Ahead of him was a road, so narrow that it was almost unnoticeable. For the first few steps, all remained quiet, but Lucien grinned with anticipation as he went on, hearing the familiar sounds of merriment ahead.

During the day, no one paid any heed to this tiny path, but once the bell tolled the evening hours, every young man came in search of it. At the end was a destination of freedom and thrills, a pleasant escape from their busy lives. Young and old alike knew it well, the infamous Le Fleur Noir.

Glancing around as he entered, Lucien took in the scene before him; the lively dance hall was abuzz with music and laughter. Glasses of wine and mugs of ale were handed off left and right, already dousing the patrons' senses before the girls were turned loose. Regulars obnoxiously demanded their presence as some new young pups huddled in the corner hardly able to believe they had escaped their dormitories to be there. Typical busy night, Lucien mused sitting at his usual table.

"Ah, the young Vicomte de Bontecou! A pleasure to see you, as always!" a shrill voice called over the din.

Lucien sighed in disgust, but put on his best false smile as he turned to find Madame D'Araignée, the proprietor of Le Fleur Noir, rushing to his table. Kind and courteous with her customers, but snobbish and cruel behind turned backs with her girls; the old toad was the very model of a two-faced wretch.

"The pleasure is very much mine," he replied, trying to suppress his repulsion as he kissed her aging hand respectfully.

D'Araignée clumsily curtsied as she asked, "The usual girl tonight? I am certain she will be happy to see you."

Lucien bit his tongue to prevent any callousness in his tone in defense of said lady. His lover or not, the girl was not a common whore.

"Absolutely, madame," he said. "If you could please tell her I am here, I would appreciate it."

"But of course, mon cher vicomte, right away!" D'Araignée replied with promise.

Turning on her heel, the old woman made her way through the growing crowd to a door, upon which hung a worn sign "Privé" ("Private"). Beyond it was a long corridor that had seen cleaner days, more doors lining it, each only a couple of feet apart. As she passed every doorframe, D'Araignée pounded her bony hand on them.

"You little trollops, get a move on!" she shouted. "With every drink they have, those fools get more impatient! Time and money are wasting!"

Within minutes, the passageway filled with girls, D'Araignée accounting for each of them as they made their way to the main room. But despite the enthusiastic cheers and whistles greeting them, she was not content, and stormed down the corridor again. When she reached the farthest door, she tried to open it, only to find it locked, and she angrily hammered her fist against it.

"Un moment!" a frustrated voice answered from the other side. "I will be right there!"

"Two minutes!" D'Araignée yelled. "You know you have the first dance tonight, and your best caller is here! Hurry now!"


"Our finest wine, Monsieur le Vicomte."

Lucien startled from his reverie as a serving girl placed the glass in front of him and poured the richly colored wine.

"Merci, Cecile," he said, clearly distracted as his anxious eyes swept over the room. Before the girl could leave, Lucien reached to stop her. "Cecile, Babette is here this evening, yes?"

Cecile was about to respond when a slow haunting melody filled the air, mixed with whoops and hollers of leering men.

"Of course she is," Cecile laughed. "Has the first dance, she does!"

Lucien was too captivated with the crowd's center of attention to hear her reply, hardly noticing that she walked away afterwards. A week at a time was too long a wait for this, he thought, sipping his wine without averting his eyes.

Out on the floor, a young woman slowly swept a coy, mysterious gaze around the room. A scandalous ensemble of a corset bodice and loosened skirt covered her slim, curvaceous figure as she slowly glided in time with the notes. Lush, curled locks of her dark hair flowed between framing her gorgeous face and revealing a tempting display of her bared shoulders. Even more exciting, every now and then, she would permit her lecherous onlookers a generous display of her ankle, sometimes higher.

Since the moment he had first stepped foot inside the dance hall, the stunning beauty, Babette by name, enamored Lucien. As he was the son of a well-known and respected family, many young ladies were brought into his company, all of whom were admittedly pretty and sweet. Each and every one was born and bred to be demure, polite, and—to be blunt—virginal, making them all a bore in his mind.

But in the dark mystery of Le Fleur Noir, there was Babette, a new, unique kind of female, unlike any of those he knew. She was a beguiling vision, a sensual woman who was not shy in the ways of love and desire. She knew everything that she wanted, how to get it, and offered the most sensational form of gratitude in return.

But before Lucien could reminisce any longer, the dance ended to resounding applause, and Babette instantly headed in his direction. A group dance was to follow, and she reached for his hand, beckoning him to join her. Needless to say, he did not hesitate at all.

Drawing her close, Lucien nuzzled behind her ear. "Has my lady missed me as much as I longed for her?"

Babette wrapped her arms around his neck, her palms soothingly running over the top of his back. "You have no idea, mon cher; a week is an unbearable eternity," she sighed. "You must come by more often."

"If it were possible, I would," Lucien breathed, caressing the sides of her waist. "You must know how much I want to."

"Then why don't you?" Babette asked, pulling back just enough to look into his eyes. They were such a perfect shade of green, not too dark yet not too light. "Every noble knows that his son must have a little fun now and then."

"Do not spend our entire time teasing, I beg you."

Babette smirked. "Well, that is definitely the first time I have ever heard that before; normally you are begging me to tease you."

Lucien finally granted his hands permission to slide below her hips, gripping her skirt as well as anything it covered. "There are two kinds of teases. Your kind is the more preferred method, and one to which I shall never object."

Laughing softly, Babette took his hand, quickly leading him to one of the back rooms, and locking the door. No sooner was that complete then they returned to each other's embrace, a deep kiss sealing them as one.

"Promise me…" she purred.

"Anything," he insisted, grasping her dress in his fists and tugging on it in desperation. "Everything."

"Promise me that you will not leave next week," she pleaded, her hands already ridding him of his coat and working on buttons and ties.

Lucien gripped her wrists, retreating to look at her. "Babette, don't do this; I told you, I have to go."

She pouted, rather adorably. "Every week is too long now; two years of this Grand Tour silliness will be torture!"

"Has anyone ever told you that patience is a virtue?" he asked.

"Yes, but the both of us know that I am not a virtuous woman," Babette replied, her grin making her the perfect image of a young coquette.

"One of the many things about you that I adore, of course," Lucien agreed. "But I must go; it is an honor to have the opportunity to do so."

Babette pulled away, turning her back on him with a huff. "Men and their honor! Meanwhile, we women turn into old maids waiting to be first in your lives!"

Lucien sighed, but moved in close behind her, rubbing her shoulders gently. "We only have tonight and next week, ma chérie; do you truly want to waste it acting like this?"

She leaned back against him despite her protests. "I can act however I want to."

His one hand took to her arm while the other drifted to the front ties of her dress. "Mon coeur…"

A gasp escaped her throat as her head lulled back to his shoulder, and Lucien seized the chance to gather her into his arms. Placing her down on the small chaise lounge, he grinned leaning down to kiss her; Babette wrapped him into a tight embrace in reply.

"I am going to assume that means 'hush up and love me'?" he asked.

Babette giggled under her breath. "More or less."

"Then I gladly accept the invitation," Lucien grinned, reaching to finish off the ties he had started moments ago.


Sitting on the beautifully carved stone front stairs at the entrance to the de Bontecou chateau, Lumière stared at a small piece of paper by the light of the rising sun. Creased and slightly worn, it was obvious to anyone who might have been nearby that the note had been crumpled and reread a number of times. The disappointment of his absence last night at the dinner had been Jolie's last straw, if she even had any doubts about him before. Had he wronged her before the cancellation? Whether he did or not, at that moment, he could not remember.

Wrapping his coat around his shoulders a little tighter, the early morning chill hovering over him, Lumière gave a mighty yawn. Sleep had been elusive to him the entire night. He was forced to keep a close watch for anyone who would attempt to check on the 'ill young master', as well as think of excuses why no one, not even the Comte and Comtesse, should bother him. His sharp wit and smooth tongue once again saved his neck as it had many times before.

The only thing to distract him from his thoughts were the sound of a horse's hooves coming up the drive, and as expected, the prodigal son of de Bontecou had returned home at last.

"So what is her name?" Lumière asked as he first assisted his master dismount the steed then walked with him to the stables.

Lucien keep his eyes focused on the path. "Whose name? What are you talking about?"

Lumière continued as he went about what he jokingly called 'dismantling the horse'. "That was the most amateur avoidance of a question I have ever heard, and I am insulted it was done by my own friend! I invented and perfected the skill of avoiding questions!"

Lucien scowled. "I really do not know what you are talking about, comprends?"

Lumière gave him the once-over. "Ruffled clothes, poorly put back together; your shirt buttons are off by one. A nice tint of red on the collar there, lovely shade! And what's that?" He sniffed the air. "Since when did you start wearing perfume and not have any to share?"

"That is enough!" Lucien shouted, but softening his tone as he saw Lumière cringe. "Please, no more questions right now."

Lumière bowed slightly, almost instinctively. "I'm sorry, really I am. It has just been a long night, lying, keeping watch and all"

Lucien nodded. "I really do appreciate it. How did everything go?"

Lumière shrugged. "Without a hitch for you; Nicolette sends you as many well wishes as you need to feel better. Jolie never wants to see me again."

"What?" Lucien asked, his brow furrowed in confusion. "It was my fault you could not go last night, and you have not done anything wrong to her before."

"If I did, I really do not remember," Lumière replied casually as the pair returned to the chateau once the horse was settled. "Ah well, I am not bothered much about it." He smirked slightly with mischief written clear across his face. "Chef's sister has been sending me an inviting eye lately, so I will not be alone for long. I take on a new woman as soon as I lose one, you know that."

"Would not have expected any less from you," Lucien laughed quietly although a somber tone still haunted his voice.

Lumière looked at him worried. "Are you all right?"

Lucien nodded. "Just…a lot on my mind," he answered. "The Grand Tour next week, Nicolette, and…other things."

"Other things such as last night?" Lumière continued knowingly.

Lucien sighed. "Très bien, mon ami; you win. Yes, other things such as last night."

Lumière waited a moment to let him continue, but when he did not, he persisted. "What is it then?"

Lucien looked at him, his gaze begging for utmost confidence and secrecy. In a heartbreaking manner, he answered, "The worst possible thing that could happen right now. I think…I'm in love."


A/N: Five good reviews on the first shot, very much a sign of a keeper!

Fairly Odd: Hey hon, thanks! Please say you have MSN! If not, ask the parentals if you can download it. The "writers' workshop" group will be there to help out 'cause you know I'm loving the Angel/Fife idea. While I handle Lumi/Babs, you take great care of Angel and "Band Geek". LOL

TrudiRose: Ah, yes! If you are loving it, then I know I am in good shape! Yes! It's a nice fun story compared to the heavy (but much loved!) tones of the trilogy. Little more challenging to write as you know, but good to see that it's turning out just right.

Valerie: Thank you very much! Lucien and Lumi are turning into my new fave pair to write; need to get Cogsworth back in the game soon. And I'm glad to know Jolie is getting some last minute love before her end in this chapter. Thank you much!

ShortStef: You're too kind! I think I have to thank teachers for that. They were constantly hounding us about our writing skills, and hence I take nothing less than my best...and therefore sometimes get too carried away. LOL. But yeah, couldn't be as professional without them. Thanks again!

Knux: One of my most loyal readers, yay! Glad to see you're loving this one, and of course I'm keeping it up! ) Thanks!