THIS CHAPTER WAS SO HARD TO WRITE! If it looks familiar to you at all, that's because it is, sort of: I copied and pasted some of the original one shot that inspired this fic into this chapter, and made a few changes and additions to make it fit this version of the story better. I tried writing a more "original" version, but it did not come out good AT ALL. Luckily, there shouldn't be any more chapters for the rest of this fic that give me nearly this much trouble. I hope. Anyway, I'll see you at the bottom of the page!

Reginald was not one to laze about in bed until late in the day. No matter how comfortable his bed was, he always had plenty to do and only so much time to do it all; thus, being idle was simply out of the question. He had to admit, though: getting to be comfortable and cozy and warm while others brought him healing broths and whatever else he might ask for was very enjoyable. He'd almost think he was innately suited for such a lifestyle, were it not for that nervous energy building up inside him as he went days and nights without doing much more than chat with the Beast and the servants. As nice as being catered to was, he was simply not the kind of man to not lift a finger in any way. He had to do something, and by God, he was going to do it.

Everyone at first insisted that Reginald was still too unwell to move about, but the third time he was caught powering through the weaknesses of his body by crawling across the floor of the back room, it became clear that Reginald needed something to occupy his time. Then the Beast brought up the fact that he had a library, and it was all over.

Once they'd all convinced Sven it would be well worth any "discomforts" (a guest should not be forced to sleep on a sofa!), the Beast lifted Reginald from their little nest and carried him into a room that Reginald had not had a chance to explore. It was dark and smelled a bit dusty, though once the Beast stepped inside, the fireplace roared to life and the curtains parted, as if by magic. The light revealed a room lined wall to wall with bookshelves nearly as tall as Reginald's house, and he'd practically fallen out of the Beast's arms in an attempt to search through the nearest one. Sven had scolded him for such recklessness, then immediately ordered that at least two servants should watch over Reginald at all times and bring him whichever book he asked for.

This was when Reginald discovered something incredible to occupy his time: reading to whoever was with him that day. All the servants knew how to read- apparently, the wizard found it more beneficial if they at least knew the basics- but hearing the stories read aloud, followed by heavy discussions of the intricacies of each story that lasted until Reginald was out of breath, was something else entirely. He'd always wanted to make better use of the public library, but everyone in Lil' Town was understandably too busy to sit and listen to someone read. Farmwork was certainly laborious, and Reginald was proud of his town's work ethic, but there was something enchanting about sharing these books so deeply with whoever would listen…

It certainly helped that all of that reading helped increase his stamina. The first few days, he'd quickly fallen out of breath mid sentence, but soon he was sharing whole paragraphs at a time while juggling two different threads of discussion. The Beast showed him some simple stretches to help strengthen his body, and not long after that, Reginald was walking about and climbing the ladders to reach the highest shelves he could reach. All in all, he was the picture of perfect health.

The Beast had promised that Reginald could return to Lil' Town as soon as he recovered, but the topic was tactfully avoided by most everyone. Even Sven turned a blind eye when it was obvious that Reginald was in tiptop shape. Though Reginald knew at some point that he'd have to return home, he found he didn't want the illusion to end just yet. Perhaps he'd fallen under a spell of his own, but it was such a comfortable, peaceful spell that he didn't want to go out of his way to break it.

The truth was that Reginald had never felt as calm and fulfilled as he did now. Tending to his villagers was important, but he tended to deal with the same issues every week, and again, though they were friendly, they weren't close in the way that Reginald always longed for. Though the Toppat Clan had once been that source of closeness, it always came at the expense of his nerves and well being. To put it simply: he was far less stressed without Terrence around. The servants were special; many of them shared the same interests as him, and any that didn't were often wellsprings of new knowledge that Reginald sought as much as he could. And though very few of them had faces or appendages, his heart swelled with pride and joy when he sensed just how happy everyone seemed to be. Back when they'd first met, it had all been mostly business and table manners. Now, they felt like dear friends, people he could count on to help when he needed it, and was more than willing to assist if they found themselves in a pickle of any sort.

And then there was the Beast.

Oh, the Beast.

Reginald spent much time laying close to him, idly running his fingers through his fur and sitting in a natural, comfortable silence. He was not one for words in the way Reginald was, but the quiet was never stifling between them. A part of Reginald noted that it was a bit odd to sit so closely to anyone, man or beast; especially with the open contact that frequented between them. Idle pets, leaning against each other, holding hands, occasionally lying together for a late afternoon rest… Such exchanges were not something he'd experienced in most of his relationships, but much like the spell that kept him comfortably away from Lil' Town, a part of him was afraid to mention it aloud, in case it put an end to whatever was bringing them together.

LINE BREAK

"Would you like to dance?"

Reginald nearly dropped the book he was holding and stared up at the Beast. "Dance? R-right now?"

The Beast, who up until that moment had been letting Reginald recline against him as they read together, fluffed out his fur in apparent embarrassment. "Not now- I mean, unless you want-?" He growled in frustration. "Just… the other day, you were tellin' me how your mom taught you to dance, and you looked happy thinkin' about it, and I thought… we… could do that. If you wanted. That's all." Reginald blinked rapidly up at him, taking in the information. The Beast's fur fluffed out even further, almost as if he were trying to hide instead of make himself look bigger. "Nevermind, forget it-"

"Wait," Reginald closed the book and took the Beast's paw in both hands. They stared at each other for a moment, and Reginald took the time to string his thoughts together correctly. "You aren't wrong. Dancing with my mother was great fun, even if it took me years to get it all right. It was special for me." He gently stroked his thumbs along the Beast's paw pad, suddenly feeling quite shy. "I never thought I'd find someone I wished to dance with again. But now you're here, so… Let's do it."

"...Really?"

"Y…Yes!" Reginald squeezed his paw more firmly and smiled up at him. "Let's get started! Unless…" his smile turned sly, "unless, of course, you don't know how to dance."

The Beast grinned, slipping into their friendly rivalry with ease. "You think you can do better than me?"

Reginald batted his eyelashes. "We'll have to see, won't we?"

The Beast huffed in mock annoyance before slipping his paw out of Reginald's hands. "I'll go tell the servants. See you soon?"

Something warm spread through Reginald's chest. "Of course."

LINE BREAK

Reginald sat outside the ballroom, patting his hands against his knees in anticipation. His mother had originally taught him to dance in the hopes that he might find someone special to impress one day, and while the women in Lil' Town were all lovely, he'd never felt that need to impress them. Besides, there was no time for dancing; farming was much too laborious to interrupt with such idleness, and Reginald himself was always busy keeping everyone's needs fulfilled. Now, though, he had plenty of time to spend as he wished, and more importantly, he had someone that he wished to spend that time with. Dancing, of all things. He wondered in the back of his mind what his mother might say of the occasion, and hoped she would be pleased to see him using the skills she taught him.

The uneven sound of wood and metal clattering on the floor drew his attention to the doorway.

Sven and Thomas tumbled into the room. "Oh, hello," Reginald greeted. "Do you need something, or-?"

"You have quite some nerve!" Sven announced, jabbing his decals accusingly at Reginald. "Inviting our Master to dance without any forethought whatsoever!"

"W-what-?"

"Oh, don't mind Sven," Thomas said, wrapping himself around Reginald's wrist and tugging him down the hall. "He's simply getting excited for the two of you, that's all."

"Um," Reginald said as they reached a set of stairs. "Excited about what, exactly?"

Sven huffed in annoyance. "Your evening together, of course! You'll be dancing with the Master in the ballroom, correct?"

"Well, yes," Reginald said slowly, "but I thought we'd just go for it."

"'Just go for it', he says!" Sven scoffed. "As if this is a mere hayride or some such!"

"...Right. And what is it that we're doing now?"

Thomas turned to look at him as he pulled him towards his room. "Getting you ready, dear man. You didn't think we'd stand idly by while you and the Master navigated such an occasion?"

"I-is it really an occasion…?" The door opened and the servants goaded Reginald into his room.

Carol was standing in the middle of the room, her handles folded and one of her feet thumping against the floor as if she'd been waiting for them for too long. "It's about time you arrived," she scolded, gesturing with her doors towards the bathroom. "There's only so many hours before nightfall and perfection takes time!"

Thomas let go of Reginald's wrist and pulled open the door, revealing that the tub was already full and hot.

"I really don't think it's that big a deal…" Reginald muttered as he stripped quickly and settled into the tub, sighing in the warm steam before scrubbing himself.

The hands on Sven's face began to tick rhythmically. "It is a big deal! A dance between the Master and the gentleman should be picture perfect! Fine food, music, candle light that will set the mood…"

Reginald leaned back to soak his hair, grabbing the soap and scrubbing his head next. "It seems like a lot of fuss to me… it's just a dance."

"'Just a dance'," Sven grumbled under his breath.

"Be patient, sir," Thomas said kindly, bringing a towel over for Reginald to use. "As lovely and quiet as it's been in the estate, Sven was never one to sit idle for long, much like yourself. I fear he's catching a case of cabin fever."

"I am not!" Sven exclaimed. "I am simply a clock who likes to get things done!"

"That's what I said, my friend."

Carol poked her top through the door. "Sven, do you have the time?"

At that moment, Sven chimed five times. "Five o'clock, on the dot." He bonked against the tub. "You've been in there long enough! Hurry out, you'll get wrinkly."

"Coming, coming," Reginald huffed, washing the soap out of his hair one more time before stepping out of the tub, taking the towel and drying himself off. "I don't suppose he's getting rushed about in the same way I am?"

"Naturally." Sven crossed his decals. "Of all the times for the Master to forget his manners, it's when he invites the gentleman to a dance! I've left the others in charge of having him prepared properly."

"Honestly, you're all starting to make me feel nervous. This is difficult as it is."

Thomas curled up on the table like a snake. "Is this difficult for you, sir? Do you not wish to dance?"

"I do," Reginald said quickly, roughly toweling his hair. "It's just… I've never had anyone I've wished to dance with before, aside from my mother. No one's ever made me feel the way he does, and I don't wish to make a fool of myself in front of him." He pulled his head out of the towel, catching his reflection in the mirror. His hair stuck out in wet strands, his mustache looked frizzy at the ends, and though he'd been eating better than he had in several years, he felt so small in comparison to his Beast, both literally and metaphorically. Like he wasn't enough. He clenched the towel tightly in his hands. "I don't want him to think less of me."

The servants glanced at each other briefly, and after a moment, Thomas draped himself on Reginald's shoulder. "You needn't worry so, dear man," he said gently. "Besides, was it not the Master who asked you to dance? You're doing him a great honor, simply by saying yes. This isn't meant to be a frightening thing; it's all in good fun."

"The Master holds you in high respect," Sven said matter of factly. "That is no small feat, and thus it is my duty and great pleasure to assist in making this an evening for you both to remember."

"If you're all done with the pep talks," Carol said pointedly, "come out of there already. This outfit won't wear itself."

"Outfit…?" Reginald repeated, looking between all the servants. "Did you all plan for this, by any chance?"

"Don't know what you're talking about," Carol replied.

"Wouldn't dream of it," Thomas agreed.

"I'm simply performing my duty as the Master's advisor," Sven said, turning away from them all.

"Now come along, sir." Thomas wrapped around Reginald's wrist and pulled him gently back into the bedroom. "Let's get you ready."

LINE BREAK

Reginald wore a golden suit with a white cravat, silky gold gloves and neat white shoes, and most thrilling of all: the tail of the coat fell like a skirt behind his legs, pinned up slightly with a deep golden sash of fabric, giving him the appearance of wearing a dress and a suit all at once. He spun around again, watching raptly as the skirt twirled and fluffed out around him. "It's perfect," he said.

"I certainly hope so," Thomas said proudly. "After all, I measured every piece of it myself." Someone sniffled. "Sven? What's wrong, dear boy?"

Sven was crying, the hands on his face spinning wildly with emotion. "I-it's just *hic* so-o p-p-perfect and *hic* I'm s-so ha-appy…!"

"Oh, Sven," Reginald reached down and patted the top of the clock. "It's wonderful. Thank you, all of you."

Carol hummed happily. "It certainly is nice to have our hard work appreciated. But enough about us; tonight is about you and the Master. Go to him now, hurry up."

Reginald straightened and adjusted his cravat once more. They had departed from the bedroom earlier, and Reginald now stood at the top of the stairs, anticipation lighting along his nerves like quicksilver.

Then he arrived: striding smoothly to a stop at the bottom of the stairs before raising a paw out to him. The Beast wore a rich blue suit, lined with white and gold that complimented his shining red fur. Reginald's heart soared, and he couldn't help but grin widely as he descended the stairs and took the offered paw in hand. "You look lovely," he said quietly.

"I know," said the Beast. "I mean- you, too."

Reginald laughed lightly. "Thank you. Now… I believe there was mention of dinner?"

The Beast hooked his arm out, letting Reginald hold onto it. "Yeah. Let's go."

LINE BREAK

Dinner had been wonderful. The dancing was wonderful. Reginald caught word that Sven and Burt were attempting a dance of their own a few rooms away, and everything was wonderful. As the candlelights dimmed in the ballroom and he and the Beast continued to embrace while the night sky glittered outside the windows, Reginald had never felt more wonderful in his life.

The Beast led Reginald out to a balcony overlooking the rose garden. The night was cold, but not nearly as cold as it had been, and the Beast's great warmth close to Reginald's heart was more than enough to keep him right where he was.

"This was a wonderful idea," he said quietly, looking up at the stars.

The Beast hummed in agreement, a low rumble in his chest that Reginald pressed his cheek into instinctively. "Never would've thought I'd like dancing."

"I think it helped that it was us dancing tonight," Reginald murmured. "Mother always told me that dancing was something special. Something you were meant to share with someone close to you." He fiddled with the bottom of his coat, feeling a warmth grow in his face as he spoke. "I've never truly felt close to anyone, not that there was ever time to dance, anyway. But then again, no one has ever made me feel as special as tonight."

It was only then that Reginald was struck with the truth of his own statement. None of the people in his village, or Terrence, or any other member of the Toppat Clan had made him feel so… happy. Special. Tender. Surely, there was a name for this sort of feeling, wasn't there? A name for something that completely enthralled him, with just a hint of nervousness that bordered well into excitement, all sourced from time spent with one specific person-

…Reginald did know the word for this feeling, didn't he?

He leaned back to stare up at his Beast, smiling softly as he gazed back down at him. He opened his mouth, the truth just on the tip of his tongue-

"Hey, Reg?" His heart swelled; perhaps this feeling was returned? "Do you think your mother's garden is okay?"

Reginald blinked, completely caught off guard. "It's… hard to say," he replied slowly. "Some of the plants should be sturdy enough to last, even without being tended to daily. The others… the winter chill has likely done them in." He gave his Beast a curious look. "Why do you ask?"

The Beast pulled away, and Reginald held back a shiver as a firm breeze blew by. He watched the Beast reach into the front pocket of his formal coat and pulled out a small bag, no bigger than the palms of Reginald's hands. The Beast gave it to Reginald, and he could feel small, round, hard bits hidden inside: seeds.

"Spring's coming soon," the Beast said, not meeting Reginald's eyes. "Sooner than you think. I thought- now would be a good time to plant some new flowers. For her." Reginald looked slowly between the Beast and the seeds. "They're from the rose garden," the Beast clarified. "I got as many as I could from all the bushes, especially the blue ones, and I- I thought, now would be a good time to make sure she's okay. And your villagers, too. …Yeah."

…What the hell was happening? Was Reginald being pushed away? Had he crossed some sort of line, and this was the Beast's subtle way of asking for space? …Did the Beast sense Reginald's burgeoning feelings, and mean to let him down gently?

His vision blurred, and he buried his face in the Beast's chest. The Beast's arms were quick to encircle him; Reginald could swear there was still a tenderness to his touch that opposed this apparent rejection, but what if he was only tricking himself into thinking that way? He was upset; he should be insulted, infuriated… but he wasn't.

Damn him and his sentimentality. He loved the Beast too much to care that he was being pushed away.

...And just like that, the fairytale is over. *Avoids all the stones and tomatoes being thrown at me*

You may or may not have noticed this, but Reginald went from referring to "the beast" as it, to referring to "the Beast" as him. Subtle differences, but very important ones!

The title of this chapter was inspired by one of the lyrics of the titular Beauty and the Beast song: "bittersweet and strange, finding you can change, learning you were wrong". The ending of this chapter certainly *is* bittersweet and strange*, but maybe we'll get lucky and learn what everyone got wrong? Or at least, the characters will learn what they got wrong. 'Cause they got a few things wrong tonight, that's for sure.

Next week: the return to Lil' Town! What shenanigans will occur? What troubles will unfold? What mistakes will be made? Stay tuned to learn the answers to all those questions and more! Until then!