A/N: Found this little epilog on an old hard drive and figured I would post. If Belle seems a little too friendly and forgiving here, just remember, in canon she marries her kidnapper. Clearly she is not big on holding grudges. Let me know what you think of this!

The Enchantress jostled him. "Do these woods seem familiar to you?"

Gaston shook her off. "They should, shouldn't they? I believe my wife still lives here."

They walked in silence a little more, and then she said, "You should go see her – she's home alone, the husband's out."

"I don't think that's-"

"I think you should."

By now he knew better than to ignore her not-so-subtle hints, so he sighed and headed off in the direction of the castle. She would wait for him – or he would find her again later. He always did.

He knocked on the door and an unfamiliar footman answered. Good – less questions that way. "Is Belle at home?" he asked without preamble. "Tell her that her-… old friend's come to call."

The man disappeared and returned with the answer that Belle was in the nursery, reading to the children, and that her caller was welcome to drop in.

Gaston headed up the big staircase, noting that the place looked a little less sinister than last time but still too big and too ornamental for his liking. Just the sort of place a girl would want to live in, he told himself. Ugh.

When they opened the nursery door for him and he stepped in, though, he lost the sneer immediately.

There was Belle. Sitting on the floor, dress fanned out all around her, surrounded by a whole passel of children. When their eyes met she dropped the book she was holding and put both hands to her mouth. "Gaston?" She rose, eyes wide, and he wondered if coming had been a mistake, until she broke into a smile.

"Belle!" he boomed, and held out his arms to her. Her face might have lost the unblemished perfection of her teenage years, but she was still beautiful and in his opinion the rugrats suited her nicely. Just the sort of woman he would have wanted at home, once.

"It's so good to see you!" she exclaimed, sounding almost surprised by it. She gave him a hug and then pulled away to tuck a loose strand of hair behind his ear. "You haven't changed much."

"To the eye, no. Thankfully." He shrugged. "I suppose that's what comes of consorting with witches."

She bit her lip. "So you're still… I mean… are you all right?"

"All right? Ha! A hundred times better! I've got stories that you… even you, after all this," he said, gesturing around at the castle around them, "Wouldn't believe."

"Well, sit down – you'll have to tell me one!" She gestured for a servant to bring a chair. "I'd love to hear it. And I'm sure the children would, too."

He felt a little apprehensive as they migrated over to him en masse and plopped down around him. He was surrounded. "I'll say, Belle! How many is that? Ten?"

"They're not all mine, Gaston," she laughed. "These four. Maurice, Pierre, Elizabeth and Marie."

At once he could see the resemblance, to both her and that girly – though handsome – Prince she had married. "Mmm, I see. Children: hello. My name is Gaston. I'm…er… your mother and I grew up in the same village." They were looking at him a little strangely, but he wasn't surprised – Belle had probably told them a whole pack of (true) stories about how small-minded and insignificant the villagers were. No wonder they were all looking a little suspicious.

He drank tea out of a ridiculously undersized cup, wondering why tea couldn't be served in giant mugs like everything else, and told them all a story about killing a dragon. They were all mesmerized, even the girls, and it only got better when he pulled the souvenir from his quiver and passed it around to them. "I carved that arrow out of the dragon's tooth," he said. One of the children asked why and he explained: "I found that dragon's teeth make excellent arrows because they're light and strong and their tips are poison. So don't touch that part."

"Gaston," Belle hissed. She took the dangerous toy away and had them look from a distance.

They heard the big door creak downstairs, and Belle suddenly lowered her eyes and blushed. "That'll be my oldest, back from… hunting," she said with a small hesitation. "I suppose you should meet him…"

They heard him coming up the steps and Belle held her breath. When the boy entered the room she looked at Gaston. "I named him after you."

Gaston stared with his mouth wide open. There was nothing he could say about the boy's looks that wouldn't be an understatement, so he finally decided on: "He even dresses like me."

"Well, I thought there's no need to fix what isn't broken," Belle admitted, laughing a little uneasily.

"Mmm. Red's just the thing for you, lad." Gaston threw him a grin, which the boy returned at once. "When you're that handsome it's only right to draw as much attention to yourself as possible."

"That's what Mother always said you'd say," he laughed.

Gaston (the elder) shrugged. "And it also makes for a better hunt – it would hardly be fair if the prey couldn't at least see me coming. I need a challenge." He hesitated, then held out his hand. "Well, I should be on my way. It's good to meet you."

"You, too." The boy seemed overly happy to shake hands – perhaps he usually had to bow and curtsy like royalty. Strange, to think that his son was being raised as a prince… strange but fitting. "Come back sometime," the boy continued. Only twelve years old, and already his voice was starting to drop. "I want to hunt with you. I've heard stories…"

"They don't do me justice. Sometime you'll see." He waved goodbye to the other children and headed for the door.

Belle escorted him downstairs. "He's been a wonderful father to him, just so you know," she said suddenly. "I would have told you, but I didn't know where to write."

"It's all right. There's no place for a kid with me anyway – I spend half my nights creeping in caves tracking monsters, and the other half at these ridiculous parties so that Elena has someone to dance with."

"Elena?"

"The Enchantress." Gaston shrugged. "She changes the name sometimes, and the looks too… from gorgeous, to even more gorgeous. I like it." They walked in silence to the door, and then Gaston asked, "Does he know?"

"Know?" Belle didn't laugh, but he could hear it in her voice. "My children are all very intelligent, Gaston. I took him once to show him the tavern in town, and they still have that painting of you over the fireplace. He saw. He knows."

"Good." It was good – and it made him feel a little protective of the boy. "You know, not that I don't like those other kids, Belle, but they're… not like him."

"Gaston." She put her hand on his arm and turned him to look her in the face. "I know exactly what it feels like to not quite fit in with the people around you. I take very good care of him, and I'll make sure that someday he finds his place. As I did. As you did. For now, he's happy."

"Not too happy, I hope," Gaston griped as he put his cloak back on. "Nothing good ever came of spoiling a boy. Make sure he learns to take care of himself. Give him more beer and less tea. And get him a dog. Not that thing," he added, gesturing towards the yappy little palace pooch. "A real dog. And make sure-"

Belle put a finger to his lips. "I will. I promise you'll be happy with how he turns out. You're welcome to come check."

"Good. I will." He hesitated for just an instant with his hand on the doorknob.

Out of nowhere Belle threw her arms around him and stood on tiptoe to kiss him on the cheek. "Listen. Um. I know I never really apologized for everything," she said.

Real men don't stand around waiting for apologies, he wanted to tell her, but before he could she was talking again.

"So, I'm sorry for making your home a misery. And for not ever giving you a chance."

He shrugged. It had been annoying at the time, that he hadn't been able to manage her, but once he was rid of her he had fast forgotten it. "I suppose you were right," he said generously, "We weren't made for each other. Even though we do look it." She smiled, and it was nice to be smiled at, so he put his hand to her face and said nice things to her. "I apologize too, Belle. For making you get married when you weren't really ready."

Her eyes narrowed. "When I wasn't really ready?"

"Well you did-"

"I said no. I poisoned you. I blew up your house."

"All right, so, in hindsight that marriage may not have been the best idea I've ever had, but-"

"You mean you sometimes have worse ideas than forcing marriage on people?"

"Belle." They hadn't been in each other's company an hour, and already he wanted to strangle her. What had he been thinking, to bring this creature into his home?! He spread his hands as if in surrender, to try and calm her down. "You're right: I definitely should not have married you the way I did. All right? Don't tell the boy I ever did anything so stupid."

Sure enough, she relaxed. "I won't. He doesn't need to know anything about it. I've just said you were my husband, but we weren't meant for each other and some magic intervened to separate us. No one's fault."

Her cooperation was good – if a decade too late. "Perfect, all right. Well… goodbye, Belle."

"Goodbye, Gaston. Be careful."

"Ha! Me?" he set his cap on his head and strutted off in a swirl of cape. He listened for the door closing, and it was a while – she was standing there watching him, of course. He strutted harder.

The End.

So, the discussion of actual conception of a child wasn't in my original story because back then I couldn't write it without darkening the tone of the whole thing. (Being a little older and wiser now though, I think it could probably be done.). But I think that since availability for sex was an expected facet of marriage in that day & age, while Belle would likely have been resentful and disgusted when he demanded it, she wouldn't have felt that that particular demand was much more monstrous or unforgivable than forcing marriage on her in the first place. So that is how I think she could still be on speaking terms with him now. The end!

ETA: Before anyone else comments that they can't believe the beast/prince "let" Belle do this or that: I strenuously disagree with the proposition that the beast/prince would try to forbid his wife from having visitors or would dictate what name she gives her own child from a prior relationship. I think the whole point of BatB is he's grown out of keeping her prisoner!