"Babette?"
The woman herself stirred, squeezing her already closed eyes tightly as she did. She was never one to drink so much, and the last thing she would call herself was a drunk. The previous night had to have been an exception; she could not remember any of it. All she knew was a sickening sensation was filling her stomach to a nauseating capacity, and her head was throbbing. The knocking at her door was certainly not helping either.
"Babette, it is already half past noon! Aren't you awake yet?"
When she was sure that she had no clue who was on the other side by voice alone, Babette moaned before she replied. "Of course I am! Come in!"
The door creaked open, increasing her headache even more, and Babette hid her face under her pillow. Her visitor's identity was not worth the pain that sound and light were bestowing on her.
"Mon Dieu," the visitor muttered as Babette felt both skin and paper on her back. That answered everything; it had to be Odette, one of her fellow performers. She was the only one at Le Fleur Noir, besides Madame D'Araignée, who had any reading skills (thus accounting for the presence of paper). Whenever the girls received letters and notes, Odette was the one for them to see.
Babette growled, although her words were muffled from beneath the pillow. "Go away, this is not a good time for a scolding."
"I am not going to scold you," Odette said, walking to the dressers to pour cool water into the basin. Bringing that and a cloth with her back to the bed, she silently ordered, "Come out from under there; you must be as warm as a beautiful day in July!"
Babette groaned in protest, but as Odette persisted, she finally complied, slowly removing the pillow from her head.
"I hate you," Babette muttered angrily.
Odette soaked the cloth in the water, and placed on the girl's head. "I know you do, but you will simply have to get over it. Hopefully, you have learned to never touch a drink again."
"If I had, last night would have never happened," Babette replied, sighing somewhat relaxed with the cloth now cooling her brow. She gestured to it weakly as she added, "Merci, mon amie."
Odette grinned. "You are not unworthy of friendship because of how much more careless you have been." Reaching to the foot of the bed, she gathered the folded paper that Babette must have felt earlier. "And the reason for that growth in carelessness seems to be very insistent."
Babette offered a halfhearted smile. Two years had passed since the night Lucien had left her, and while she longed to see him again, she would not admit to it. She would not give everyone the satisfaction of seeing her pining her loss.
She had refused gifts that he had sent her from his travels on the Grand Tour. The last thing she wanted was charity, to be the "poor, lonely lost love"; she was better than that. Letters were another story, offering hope that someday he would come to his senses and return to her and her alone.
"What does he have to say this time?" she asked, trying to appear indifferent although Odette knew better.
Unfolding the letter, Odette began to read. "'Mon coeur: With every stroke of ink, I am torn between the greatest of enemies, my mind and my heart. The common sense in my mind constantly chides me for continuing to write to you, as you never respond. (Your inability to read or write is not an excuse.) But as you made it quite clear that you despise me, I should not expect any letters in return. My traveling party is constantly on the move, however, so I suppose it is for the best whether you still love me or not.'
"'My heart, amidst such a browbeating, is not so easily dissuaded. The stronger of the two combatants, it still hopes that somehow you could feel compassionate enough to forgive me. It is because of those hopes that I find myself once again penning you a letter.'
"'What else can I say that has not already been said? My engagement was not formed under my consent; if it was, I would find a way for us to be together. Perhaps in another time and place it would be possible, but it simply can not be.'
"'I know I hurt you, but that was never my intention. What I felt for you was love; I still do. But if we must set each other free, let it be a harmonious parting. Forgive me please, Lucien."
"Well," Odette offered after a pause. "He does not sound like a man who hates you, but then again, when they come crawling back, that is the last thing they want to be."
Babette turned away, groaning as her stomach continued churning in agony. "He could want me again or hate me forever; it does not matter to me either way."
"As well it shouldn't," Odette agreed. "We told you in the first place that he was trouble, remember? None of those men are here to fall in love; this is not a living fairy tale. It is life at its toughest."
Babette hugged her pillow close, drawing the blanket tighter over her shoulders. "Love". She really should have listened to them; it always resulted like this for all the girls. Why would she have been an exception? More devastatingly so, why did she still keep believing that she was one?
She swallowed her emotion before she spoke again. "I know that. He was just…so sincere, so wonderful." She glanced back at Odette. "You read those letters to me every time; you see how romantic and eloquent he is. That is exactly how he used to speak to me, how he treated me, like I was the only one in the world for him."
Odette patted her friend's shoulder gently, perhaps the only one who truly felt any sympathy for her. Hurt in this form was the most difficult of all. "I know. But they all do that, mon amie, until life catches up with them. If a man is not willing to take you as a mistress, or if you deny that invitation, you are of little use or importance to him. In this line of work, it is not worth the time or the trouble to believe in love."
Babette could only nod, wanting to end the conversation as soon as possible, averting her eyes once again on nothing in particular.
"I will cover for you tonight if you still do not feel well," she heard Odette say as she stood to leave. "Get some rest for now."
When the door clicked shut, Babette took a deep breath to calm herself, curling up under her blanket to get some rest. Sleep would at least ease the pain that still settled in her stomach and head, if not the pain in her heart.
Lucien groaned in frustration, returning to his reading having confirmed the noise in the hallway to be Lumière's infuriating-in-times-of-studies merriment. It was official. Education was not a bother in life; people who made it more difficult were to blame. When Lumière opened the door, in a far too positive mood from the looks of him, Lucien closed the book irritated. Whenever the valet returned to the inn in Venice in such good spirits, there was no hope for any work that needed completion.
"I can not speak for you, mon ami," Lumière called, hanging up his coat before joining Lucien. "But this has been the single greatest journey I have ever been on."
"I am sure it is," Lucien replied, attempting to return to his book.
"The English gentlemen in our traveling party never cease to amaze me!" Lumière continued, too excited to notice. "Every Englishman I have ever met has been so uptight and proud, but then they were nobles like yourself. These men are as full of life as we are, nobles or not!"
"I could not be more happy for them," Lucien muttered, not looking up.
"You should have been there," Lumière laughed, shaking his head in amusement at the memory. "None of them showed so much as a blush when commenting on the finer, attractive points of the women. I could not believe it!"
"A true wonder of the world indeed," Lucien agreed, nowhere near enthusiastic.
Lumière frowned at his inability to capture his friend's attention. "Lucien, the sky is falling; we have to run," he drawled sarcastically.
"Then let it crush me; I have to finish this," Lucien replied in the same manner.
Lumière sighed, moving to lounge on the chaise nearby. "Are you ever going to leave those books for just a day? You are allowed to enjoy this trip as well as learn from it."
"I know," Lucien said. "However I am here for one reason, and that alone."
Lumière knew he was going to regret this, but he had refrained from bringing the topic into discussion for the entire length of the Tour. He could not hold back any longer.
"Indeed, to escape."
Lucien stopped reading, but did not look at him. "What was that?"
"As long as this journey continues, you are not married and your lady love is still a part of your life."
Lucien shut the book and turned on him, glowering. "Take. That. Back."
Lumière shook his head. "As your servant who knows his place, I most certainly do, but not as your friend who knows it is the truth that you choose to deny."
Lucien stood his ground. "Then as a friend, respect my request to not remind me of it again."
"You have my word that I will not if you come out and play tonight," Lumière offered with a smirk, trying to ease his way out of an argument. It was not what either of them needed at the moment. "One last chance at fun before we leave tomorrow to head for home."
Lucien returned to his chair. "I can't."
"Why not?"
"Things to do."
"Like what? Sitting around and sulking?"
"Because I just can't!" Lucien shouted. "Does your word mean nothing to you?"
"I said you have my word if you come with us," Lumière corrected. "You said no, thus my word is not set in stone."
Lucien leaned his head into his hands, irritated now beyond belief. "The last person that I expect to understand is you. Simply because you tell a woman 'As you wish' if she refuses anything more than a kiss does not mean that you understand what real love is. If anything, it just makes you respectable."
Lumière sat in silence for a moment. "You really miss her that much?"
Lucien laughed bitterly. "Two years of traveling wasted on thoughts of a woman I will never have; I would venture to say that means I miss her quite a bit."
"Well," Lumière said. "Then, let's not waste it. How about…if the plans change somewhat?"
Lucien raised his eyes to look at him. "Elaborate on that."
"I still say this is the last night before we leave for home, and therefore, one last hurrah is in order," Lumière explained. "If going in search of women makes you uncomfortable and you do not want to do so, then I suppose that being the best friend I am, I will have to live with that decision."
Lucien could not resist a small laugh at Lumière's added dramatics to that last line.
"That does not mean, however," Lumière continued, "That two best friends can not go out and enjoy themselves. Venice is ours for the evening, mon ami; I am certain we can find something to do. I saw a small bistro, in fact, not far from here, much like the one we constantly go to in Paris. It seems perfect for rest and relaxation, and anything is better than wallowing in your own misery. What do you say?"
Lucien thought for a moment. Lumière was right; distraction and fun were just what he needed, no matter how much he tried to deny it.
"Why did you hang up your coat?" Lucien asked, breaking into the mischievous grin that both young men were known for. "You would only have to put it on again! I mean, really now, must I always be the brains of the outfit?"
"You are using more than the usual half of one?" Lumière replied with a smirk, bolting for his coat first and then the door to avoid any attacks Lucien could come up with.
Lucien only laughed along with him. After grabbing his own coat, he ran after Lumière, just as they did when they were boys. Even if just for one final night, he would be himself again for the first time in two long years.
A/N: Yes, just changed the title a bit; no one is going crazy I promise. Just think it flows nicer as Questionable Romance. That's all. Now onto the reviews...
TrudiRose: She will indeedy have him there for her! It's getting there, slowly but surely, but it will happen. And as I can not express it enough, thank you again for your time and patience. I owe you so much, it's unbelieveable. :-)
ShortStef: Aw, Lumi is better than that. Poor guy is going to be going through so much frustration and tension in the near future when it comes to battling his feelings for our fave girl. But I'm going to stop now before I give too much away. :-) Thanks!
FairlyOdd: Sometimes it helps to be depressed, but I do not recommend that at all. Just stay in tune with your characters and really think them through, that's all. You can do it:-)
Lyndsi05: I LOVEwriting Lumi and Cogs banter and would NEVER pass up an opportunity to write about that infamous approaching moment! They are just a writer's dream to work on, so much fun! Cogsworth should be making his first appearance within another chapter or so, so stay tuned! Thanks again for your kind words.
CrystalTear: Aw, girl I'm sorry for putting your man through that, but "it'll turn out all right, you'll see" to paraphrase Mrs. Potts. He'll be ok. :-) He and Babs just had to do it though, for the sake of many things. :-)
NikkiBelle: You know darn straight what rep I mean:-) Thanks for the read, you time-keeping twit; the Cogettes should have some satisfactory reading coming soon.
Knux: I have indeed seen the musical...32 times and counting. :-) Every piece of my writing is strictly based more on that code than the film. The idea behind this story was actually from our current Lumiere on Broadway, Peter Flynn, when he answered a fan question about thebackstory ofLumiere and Babette. I met him back in September of last year, run his official website, and all around have become pretty good friends with him. That's who I mean by "the boss" at the top of Chapter One, btw. He's a very sweet, kind man, much like his character just minus all the hormones. LOL. I actually just saw him the other day, told him how well this is coming along, and he seemed pretty impressed by all thewonderful reviews it's been getting. That being said, thanks for your loyal reading; it's greatly appreciated :-)
