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i feel ill the way hes looking at john is SICKENING!!!!! im convinced he only did the "sherlock is actually a girl's name" just to see john laugh one last time i hate them

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Sherlock (TV), Mystrade - Fandom, Kidlock - Fandom Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade Characters: Sherlock Holmes, Mycroft Holmes, Greg Lestrade, Violet Holmes, Siger Holmes, Redbeard, Holmes Family - Character Additional Tags: Christmas, mystrade, Kidlock, Caring Greg Lestrade, 12 Days of Christmas, Minor Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade, Caring Mycroft Holmes, Mycroft Holmes Has Feelings Summary:

It's Christmas in Newbury England. Young Mycroft Holmes has never done this, "relationship thing" properly before. But Greg has a few ideas. Despite his disdain for the holidays and the connections with unsupportive family, Mycroft finds himself not minding so much this year, as long as he remains close to Greg, and his mischievous little brother. And who couldn't do without a little holiday cheer?

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A microstory I wrote two winters hence. And a photo to go with. Enjoy, my chosen family of Sherlockians.

~ Mycroft’s Snow Angel ~

The first snow of November came to Newbury in generous proportions. A blanket of fresh white covered everything in sight, piling up several feet in depth and silencing the world beneath into perfect stillness. School would be canceled today, Mycroft knew.

His mind went to Sherlock, as it always did now days. This would be the boys first conscious experience of snow. Last winter Sherlock had been far too young to be outside for even a second in the cold winter air. He was ten months now. Perhaps mummy would allow it this time.

Mycroft came away from the crystallized window, and hurried to dress in his warmest clothes. He entered the nursery and found the nanny there, feeding Sherlock. Mycroft fed him on weekends but on weekdays there was no time for him to do so with school obligations. The nanny was a replacement after the wet nurse, and with that came mashed food for Sherlock instead of milk.

Mycroft decided he approved of the wet nurse more than this nanny. She acted like she knew everything that was good for Sherlock. She didn’t.

“I won’t be going to school today.” Mycroft informed the nanny.”

Sherlock squealed in delight when he heard his big brother. “My!” One of his first and few attempts at vocabulary.

The warmest feeling filled Mycroft. “May I take over, please?”

The nanny got up from her chair, and placed Sherlock in his brothers arms. “He is almost finished eating. But you will have to check with your mother if your planning on taking him outside in this.” She gestured disdainfully to the window.

Mycroft raised a judgmental eye brow as she left the room. Who on earth didn’t appreciate a good snow? His attention turned back to the little bundle in his arms. Sherlock had been growing so much since January. He bounced him sweetly and kissed his face.

“Mummy will let us. Just wait and see.” Mycroft walked to the chair and sat Sherlock down. “Let’s get this food in you first.”

Mycroft caught the smell of mashed carrots and peas. He gave a face, and then extended an arm for Sherlock to eat.

Sherlock had been watching as he always did, and didn’t open his mouth.

Mycroft tilted his head. “What? You don’t want it?”

Sherlock only cooed.

“Here.” Mycroft placed the spoon against the babies mouth. “Eat it, so we can go play in the snow together.”

Remarkably, Sherlock gave the same face that he just saw Mycroft make.

Mycroft gasped. Sherlock was imitating him. “Sherlock please eat?” He asked sweetly.

With an inward groan, Mycroft put the spoon in his own mouth. It was quite intolerable, but he smiled anyway, faking enthusiasm. Just pretend it’s blackberry cobbler, he thought.

“Mm, yummy!” He said when he was done, and scooped up more. “Your turn.”

Sherlock opened his mouth.

With a relieved sigh, Mycroft fed him. Sherlock had no problem eating after Mycroft set the example, and he was sure not to make any more dissatisfied looks while feeding him.

“All gone.” Mycroft showed the toddler the empty bowl. He took the bib off him and used it to wipe carefully at Sherlock’s mouth.

“Ah gone.” Sherlock repeated his brother.

Mycroft picked him up and went to the changing table. He had to use a foot stool to be able to reach the top, and laid Sherlock across it. Sherlock kept looking at the window curiously, Mycroft noted. The baby could see the difference in how bright it was outside as opposed to other days.

“There is snow outside, little brother. That’s why it’s so bright.”

“No.” Sherlock repeated, to interested in the strange brightness to care that Mycroft was changing his nappy. Sometimes he pitched fits.

“Snow.” Mycroft repeated, and made a pronunciation on the ‘Sn’ sound.

“No.” Was all Sherlock could say, and Mycroft gave up for the time being.

Mycroft secured the fresh nappy and patted his bum. “Very good. Come on.” He picked him up and carefully stepped down from the step. “Let’s get you dressed.” He adorned Sherlock in the warmest clothes he had, taking every precaution to make sure the little one didn’t get too cold outside.

When he was finished, Mycroft took Sherlock along on his hip, and went downstairs for his own quick breakfast of eggs and toast.

Sherlock lay on his tummy on a soft rug and baby blanket. His observant eyes found interest in everything he looked at. He babbled to himself as he played with the toys that mummy laid out for him.

“Mummy said your only aloud out for twenty minutes.” Mycroft said when it was time to go play. He put his coat, scarf and gloves on, and did the same for Sherlock.

Mummy was watching from the window as Mycroft took Sherlock out onto the terrace, being mindful of any slick spots.

He refused to fall while caring his brother.

“This is snow.” Mycroft scoped a gloved hand full of white powder from the terrace ledge, and presented it to the baby in his arms.

Sherlock’s eyes were alive with child like wonder. He scanned the white, squinting at the brightness of it. He placed a hand in his brothers, in the snow.

“Snow.” Sherlock said, cheeks rosy.

Mycroft gasped in wonder. “Yes! Well done Sherlock.” He kissed his little head.

Sherlock face planted into Mycroft’s palm. He wanted to eat the snow now that he discovered it.

Mycroft wiped off his hand and secured Sherlock against his side before walking down the steps, holing the rail with the opposite hand. “You are such a smart little boy.” Mycroft told him. Sherlock’s curls bounced as they stepped down to the snowy ground. “Not as smart as I am. But still smarter than everyone else.” Mycroft trudged through a few feet of snow, creating a long path.

Sherlock watched in awe, looking at everything.

Snow covered the branches that stretched out from the tall trees. It dissolved the gravel paths once there, and hid the flower beds completely. Even the roof above was stacked with a foot of snow. Hazy clouds circled elegantly in the white blue sky, creating spirals like stretched cotton.

Mycroft sat down at the edge of the path and let the baby sit in his lap. The snow walls Mycroft built came up on either side of Sherlock, nearly as tall as he was.

Sherlock babbled in delight, curls swishing from side to side, not sure which wall of snow to dive into first first. He reach for one and might have fallen from Mycroft’s lap if he wasn’t holding him.

“Snow.” Sherlock repeated.

Mycroft couldn’t keep the pride from his face. Most babies didn’t start talking until a year. Sherlock had a head start by forming small words. The baby was truly remarkable.

“One day, we’ll be able to have a snow ball fight, or build a snow man.” He promised Sherlock.

“My My My.” Sherlock babbled, and tried to wiggle free of his brothers arms, prying at his bigger hands with his tiny ones.

“You’ll get cold.” Mycroft warned. When Sherlock persisted to struggle he let him go.

Sherlock crawled onto the paved snow path, delighted at his escape. “Snow!” He squealed.

Mycroft watched him, rather amused.

Sherlock huffed a cry of delight and laid down, rolling onto his back. There was snow in his hair now, and if not for his gloves he would be crying from the cold. “My.” Sherlock seemed to relax, staring at something that interested him.

Mycroft looked up at the clouds that had caught Sherlock’s attention. “Yes, the sky is very fascinating isn’t it?”

Sherlock grew bored, and began moving his arms mindlessly, watching as snow trickled and sparkled all around him.

Mycroft breathed out a puff of smoke. Sherlock’s blue eyes glimmered in the light above. This baby was truly his greatest gift. He had been such a lonely little boy before Sherlock.

“Mycroft!” Violet Holmes yelled from the window. “It’s time to come in now, darling. We don’t want him to get too cold.”

Sherlock glanced up from where he lay, trying to see his mummy without sitting up. All he could see was snow. “Mummy.”

“Yes, mummy!” Mycroft yelled back. He looked down at the baby.

Sherlock’s eyes found Mycroft, wondering what they were going to do next.

“Time to go inside. I’ll make us something yummy to drink.” Mycroft tickled his brothers tummy.

Sherlock giggled, and put his arms up for Mycroft to take him in his arms. “Luh.”

Mycroft picked up his brother and gave him a kiss against his cold, rosy nose. “I love you too. My little snow angel.”

The End

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Yes, it’s Bilbo’s found family.

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I need a ship name for Mystrade and Sherlock. (No incest here) Sherlock being the "son like" figure to Greg and Mycroft. Both as a child and as an adult.

If there is a ship name for this, someone please tell me. I have thought of Holmestrade and like it well enough. But if there is an official name I would like to know. Thankyou!! xx Stories coming soon!

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Mycroft and Sherlock (Kidlock) stories, Coming soon. With a little of Greg and Holmes family.

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This is how hyperfixation works:

This is a three second scene. Maybe four if I'm being generous.

But Mycroft and Greg have an entire conversation through glances in those four seconds.

And those conversations? They only happen when you've been together for y e a r s.

This four seconds is all it took to shove me off a cliff of OTP obsession.

And the kicker?

Sherlock isn't even awake...

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You've Got Us

Sunlight crept in through the open window, spreading rays of light across LeFou’s face as he woke. Songbirds chirped through the early morning air, attempting to lift his mood despite how tired he felt. LeFou rolled over in search of cuddles from Gaston and was disheartened when he found the Captain had already left his side of the bed.

With a sigh, he lay there a moment before deciding he needed to get up and make breakfast. Sleeping in this late was unusual for LeFou ever since he moved in with Gaston. Though even on the good nights, it was still sometimes a challenge to keep up with the huntsman’s early morning rising, a habit he definitely learned from his father.

LeFou shifted his feet onto the cool floor and went to pick out his outfit for the day. A yawn escaped his lips as he scrambled about in the bottom cupboard drawer in search of some stockings, fearing his feet may freeze without them. His mind recalled the nightmares he had last night as the sleep began to wear off. With a sigh, he tried to push them away, but it seemed to be of no use. Why must he be so ridiculously sentimental that he couldn’t help but remember things like what happened a year ago today? Why couldn’t he just forget?

It wouldn’t be like this next year, LeFou promised himself. He wouldn’t allow the trauma of such a horrible series of events to plague any more of his blissful days with Gaston. After all, next year, it would be two years instead of one. The healing process had begun the day Gaston got him out of there. Perhaps next year, when the anniversary comes around again, he might be able to forget, or at least let it go, just water under the bridge, like the other scars of his past.

LeFou pulled some clothes from the wardrobe as his mind continued whirling around in the chaos of memory. There was something so bittersweet about a one-year mark of time. It was either painfully tragic or enduringly beautiful.

LeFou let out a hum as he went to the privy, getting ready for the day. He stared tiredly at the reflection looking back at him in the mirror. His hair was a mess from an uneasy sleep, and the white linen sleeves of his nightshirt were wrinkled from the turning in the night. LeFou dressed in a fresh white shirt and trousers. He had just brushed his hair and placed the brush back on the cupboard when Gaston’s heavy footsteps startled him from his deep thoughts.

“LeFou?” Gaston called as he walked towards his bedroom in search of his loyal friend.

“I…I’m right here.” LeFou chirped quickly. He peaked his head out of the doorway, forgetting his problems for just a moment when he saw Gaston. The man was so tall and just as handsome as ever in his white shirt and red braces running up his strong shoulders. And his low-cut neckline was almost enough to make him forget everything that made him so gloomy today.

“Good morning, LeFou,” Gaston said with enthusiasm as he walked down the hall towards the shorter man. He was delighted to see him. Gaston took LeFou’s hands in his, bringing them up to kiss him before speaking any further.

LeFou’s face grew warm. He was once again swept away by his partner's charm. “Good morning to you too, mighty huntsman.” LeFou followed Gaston into the bedroom. He watched as Gaston looked himself over in the golden mirror, observing his body from different angles, his entire being radiating with confidence. “Handsome as ever.” LeFou said with a dreamy sigh and leaned against the doorway.

Gaston smirked in LeFou’s direction and smoothed back his hair. “Get dressed LeFou, I’m taking you out to breakfast.” Gaston said and turned around to face him.

LeFou wondered if Gaston remembered that a year ago today, he had been shoved into a carriage bound for a madhouse full of lunatics. Not to mention it had been due to the vile plan of his dear and vengeful papa. Naturally, Gaston had come to the rescue, but not before some damage had already been done. LeFou almost hoped Gaston didn’t remember today. Then he wouldn’t have to talk about it. And he wasn’t sure talking about it was something he could handle.

“Any particular reason why you’re taking me to breakfast?” LeFou asked stiffly. Preferably he wanted to stay in the cottage today.

Satisfied with the way he looked, Gaston walked over to LeFou and stroked his arm gently before he leaned forward to take his hat off the hook on the wall.

“Nothing particular, no. Not really.” Gaston kissed LeFou’s cheek before pulling away and placing the hat on his head. “I was out chopping wood this morning and saw what a beautiful day it is. I thought you could use a break from cooking. We will go for a walk through the village after breakfast, and when we get back, you can make us a lovely cup of tea, and we’ll sit on the porch and talk about...” That’s when Gaston stopped. “Well, I don’t know, but I’m sure you’ll think of something for us to talk about.” Gaston smiled happily before clasping LeFou’s face in another kiss and then strode away from the room.

LeFou took a breath. That interaction with Gaston was certainly what he needed to feel better, so why was he still feeling down? As he dressed, he tried hard to push away the thoughts that had been sneaking up on him these past couple of days.

He hadn’t told Gaston about it because he didn’t want anyone to feel sorry for him, and he especially didn’t wish Gaston to think he was silly for dwelling on it too much. After all, Gaston achieved vengeance for him. Lifetime imprisonment for his poor, disturbed papa.

It was a shame that any son should ever find the fact of his father locked away forever, to be a blessing, but that was the sad and honest truth. The day Raphael was taken out of LeFou’s life, was the day a burden lifted that he hadn’t even realized he was carrying.

“LeFou!” Gaston called from downstairs, breaking the man from his thoughts with a startled jump.

“I’m coming!” LeFou squeaked. The Huntsman certainly wasn’t known for his patience. LeFou adjusted his doublet and grabbed his hat. He took his boots, shoving away more memories as they came flooding in. Maybe it was a good thing that Gaston wanted to get him out of the cottage this morning. He needed the distraction. With a sigh, he started down the stairs to meet his Captain in the living room.

“You look handsome, LeFou.” Gaston said with a dashing smile as LeFou came down the stairs.

LeFou forced a smile. “Oh..um, I don’t know..”

Gaston gave a confused look. Usually, LeFou went pink or at least giggled when he complimented him. Gaston held out an arm, ever the gentleman. “Ready?” He gave a smirk that he knew LeFou wouldn’t be able to resist.

LeFou took Gaston’s arm tenderly and didn’t look up to meet his eyes. “Ready, Captain.”

Gaston took LeFou’s chin, bringing his eyes to his own, searching the depth of auburn for what was bothering him. Talking was not always his forte, so instead, he pressed his mouth against his.

That seemed to do the trick as LeFou hummed, half timidly and the other half intimately, as he leaned into the kiss, forgetting for a short moment how heavy his mind was today.

“I thought a kiss might make you smile.” Gaston said when they broke the kiss. With that, he opened the front door to the cottage, letting in the lovely summer breeze.  

“You always make me smile, Gaston.” LeFou stepped outside as he waited on Gaston to lock the door.

Gaston started towards the tavern and held out an arm for LeFou to take as they walked. “Is something troubling you, LeFou?” Gaston asked him finally, trying words since LeFou still seemed quieter than usual. “You know I can always tell when something is wrong.”

LeFou bit the inside of his mouth to keep from telling him the truth. He didn’t want to bring down Gaston. He knew Gaston had felt like a failure when they took him away forcefully, that day in Paris. “Oh, I’m...just hungry.” LeFou said. It wasn’t entirely a lie, as he could tell his stomach was empty. “I didn’t have much for dinner yesterday.”

“Yes..that’s right.” Gaston thought back to the prior evening. “You hardly touched your food.” He stopped when they arrived at the tall doors of the tavern. Gaston had now begun to worry about LeFou’s good health. He raised his hand to touch LeFou’s forehead gently. “You don’t feel ill, do you? I can have the doctor come to see you upon my immediate request.” Gaston’s eyes were blue with concerned love.

LeFou blinked in surprise at the sudden contact and felt his cheeks grow warm. “No, I…I feel fine.”

Gaston pursed his lips in thought. “I’d say you look flushed, but your cheeks are always turning that colour.” He said with a smirk. Letting any previous worry go, he turned to push open the doors with his natural born authority.

LeFou followed Gaston into the tavern. He took a content breath as he looked around at the familiar faces. He watched as Gaston and Tom saw each other, and the man stood from his place at the table to shake Gaston’s hand. Dick turned from where he sat with the lads and found LeFou, smiling at him as he waved him over.

LeFou realized he was just standing there in the middle of the room as a waitress walked by with a tray of drinks.

“Hello, LeFou!” Will waved from the table across from Tom and Dick.

LeFou walked up to the table and stood dutifully beside Gaston. “Bonjour, everyone.” He said with a warm smile.

“Bonjour, LeFou,” Jaques waved, looking up from his breakfast. “You should come by the pottery shop and see Stanley’s latest work.” Jaques said and looked at Stanley, who sat across from him.

“He’s exaggerating,” Stanley said with a blush, hiding the embarrassment he felt from being the centre of attention.

“He is not!” Will said and nudged him playfully.

“I’m sure it’s beautiful, Stanley. Your work is always quite impressive.” LeFou assured him and looked to Dick, who was quietly listening to each conversation going on at the two tables.

“I’ll go order our breakfast.” LeFou walked away as Gaston continued discussing last week's hunt with Tom.

LeFou ordered Gaston’s plate of 5 eggs, three sausages, bread, and cheese, along with a mug of coffee. Normally he got a little less than what Gaston ordered, without quite so many eggs, but this morning he just ordered the porridge and coffee. He was hardly feeling as hungry as he told Gaston he was a moment ago.

Gaston sat down across from Tom and Dick as they continued their conversation. His eyes met LeFou’s as he waited for their breakfast. LeFou smiled at Gaston, making eyes at him from across the room as he so often did. That man was the only one who could make something like last year feel like nothing but an awful dream.

“LeFou, orders ready.” The bartender said, pulling LeFou from his gaze on Gaston.

“Thank you.” He said quickly and placed the gold on the counter before taking the tray of food. “Your breakfast, Captain,” LeFou said sweetly and put Gaston’s plate in front of him and his mug before sitting down.

“Thank you, LeFou.” Gaston smiled gently. “You're the best, as always.” He wanted to kiss him but held back the action, though the love came through his eyes anyway.

LeFou smiled warmly and took a spoon for the porridge, his cheeks warming again due to the apparent fondness for the man he loved. “I am at your service, Gaston, until the end.” LeFou smiled weakly, trying desperately to focus only on this perfect man in front of him. Sometimes he still couldn’t believe Gaston loved him like he always dreamt of.

“Until the end.” Gaston nodded, took his mug, and winked at LeFou before taking a drink of his coffee. LeFou smiled warmly and looked down. If he wasn’t blushing before, he was now.

LeFou did his best through the rest of breakfast to keep a smile on his face and forget his troubles. He didn’t want anyone to worry about it, and he knew how observant Dick was.

If LeFou didn’t convince them he had nothing on his mind, they would start to poke at him until he spilt, and that would only result in emotions he didn’t want to uncover right now, at least not in a public setting. So LeFou, being an expert at concealing his feelings, acted happy for long enough that he soon convinced himself he was. That is until they started on the way home, and the conversations stopped, and the air grew quiet as they walked down the tiny village of Villeneuve.

“Bonjour, Gaston and LeFou!” The barber waved as they passed. He stood mid shave over a man sitting in the barber chair.

“Bonjour, Fortunio.” Gaston nodded. LeFou stopped to watch the inevitable conversation unfold.

“Where are you off to this morning?” Fortunio asked and patted dry the man sitting in the chair.

 “Oh, you know, just the usual walk through the village, making sure everyone is in good sorts.” Gaston said with an award winning smile.

“Admirable, Captain.” The barber grinned. “And when shall I schedule your next visit?”

Gaston put a hand to his chin, an eyebrow raised. “Oh, give me another week, and I’ll come by. LeFou too if he’s up for it.”

LeFou gave a look that expressed he didn’t care what time they went to the barber. After all, his facial hair growth was at least a month behind Gaston’s at all times.

“Make it the last Friday of this month.” Gaston said.

The barber nodded, pleased with himself for doing even the most simple of business with Gaston. “I’ll mark it down, monsieur. It’s a pleasure to serve.” He said with a bow.

“It’s a pleasure to be the protector of such a fine people.” Gaston replied with a nod and held out an arm for LeFou, which he took gratefully, eager to be alone once again. “Good day, sir.” Gaston added before they began to walk away.

“You are always so charming, Captain. I don’t know how you do it.” LeFou found himself yawning. He placed a hand over his mouth and let out an unintentional whimper.

Gaston gave a puzzled look as he turned his eyes upon his partner. “Tired?”

LeFou placed his second hand over the arm that looped around Gaston’s. “No, I...” He paused. “Maybe a little.”

Gaston nodded to a villager passing by before bringing his focus back to LeFou once again. “Maybe we can sneak in a nap before lunch.” With more evidence in front of him, Gaston wondered if LeFou had been having nightmares. Those were common between the two of them after the war.

“That sounds lovely, Gaston,” LeFou stopped as another villager approached to speak with the Captain about...he didn’t know. LeFou zoned them out as they spoke, everyone in this village went to Gaston about absolutely everything, and sometimes the load could grow a little heavy.

After they finished their walk through the village, Gaston and LeFou made their way back up the familiar pathway to Gaston’s cottage. “I’ll get the tea,” LeFou said and touched the huntsman’s arm, a replacement for the kiss he wanted to place on his cheek.

Gaston knew the subtle gestures and smiled warmly at him before sitting down in one of the rocking chairs on the porch, watching as the village went by as it always did. As he waited, he pondered what it was that could be troubling LeFou today. He was usually so cheerful, but today he seemed quiet and distracted. Nightmares didn’t usually keep him in such a despairing mood all day, so what could it be?

Gaston’s thoughts were broken when he heard the sound of something falling against the wood with a clang. A curse came from inside the kitchen and a frustrated groan. Gaston sprung up from his chair and glanced inside through the open window. Hearing LeFou curse was a very uncommon sound to his ears, and he wondered what could have merited it.

LeFou picked up the chipped teacup and set it down on the counter before covering his face with his hands as a wave of emotion washed over him. Gaston hurried to the front door and made his way inside to LeFou, who hardly noticed him as he approached. Gaston reached out as he realized LeFou was crying as if something tragic just happened.

“LeFou?” Gaston said tenderly and ran his hand along LeFou’s back, taking him around the shoulders. LeFou allowed Gaston to guide him into his arms as he cried, no longer strong enough to hold it in anymore. He knew this was silly, and he hated himself for exposing all this emotion he had been trying to keep concealed.

Gaston held him close and placed a gentle kiss on the top of his head. He hadn’t a clue what was wrong but just wanted to make it better.  

“I’m sorry, Gaston,” LeFou whimpered as he dabbed at his eyes against Gaston's shirt. “I didn’t mean to ruin your beautiful morning.”

Gaston tried to understand what he was talking about. Did the teacup he broke have some meaning to it that Gaston was unaware of? “It’s alright, my love, it’s only a teacup. I’ll buy you as many as you like to replace it next time we’re in Paris.”

A soft laugh, mixed with a sob, came from LeFou’s lips. “No…it’s not the teacup, Gaston.” LeFou buried deeper into Gaston’s embrace. The sound of his heartbeat soothed him greatly, along with the bigger man’s strong arms and gentle hands grazing over his covered skin.

LeFou parted from Gaston as he took a breath and attempted to rid his face of tears with his sleeve. Gaston placed a hand on the counter as more distance was created between the two, though he kept a hand against LeFou’s arm as the shorter man tried to gain control over his emotions.

“If it’s not the teacup, what is it?” Gaston asked. “Something has been amiss all day. Have I done something?”

LeFou took a deep, shaky breath. He felt ridiculous now and for some reason, a little better than he had before crying. “No, you haven't done anything wrong. You’re Gaston.” LeFou giggled sheepishly and took Gaston’s opposite hand in his. He looked away when he saw the deeply concerning questions in Gaston’s eyes.

“It’s been a year since our holiday to Paris was interrupted.” LeFou said with a slight shutter. “When my papa convinced the authorities I was mad and...” LeFou hesitated to speak further, hoping he wouldn’t have to.

The dawn of realization came over Gaston like a title wave and he brought a hand to his mouth as his brow furrowed in dark contemplation. LeFou pursed his lips, relieved to have shared it with someone, though he anxiously awaited Gaston’s response.

Gaston shook his head and took a breath, placing a hand on his hip, the other still holding LeFou’s. “How could I have missed that?” He looked at him regretfully. “LeFou, I...” Gaston hesitated. “I should have known.”

LeFou shrugged and subconsciously moved both smaller hands to Gaston’s larger ones. He rubbed his way slowly to his wrists and up his arms. “I didn’t think it mattered. It happened, and it’s over.” LeFou moved his arms around Gaston’s waist, hugging him once more, longing to be closer.  

Gaston kissed LeFou and leaned his cheek against his head as he wrapped his arms entirely around him again, moving his hands over his back until he grew still, just holding him in a close embrace. The two stood quietly for a moment until Gaston spoke. “I am going to make it up to you.” He told LeFou and leaned away enough to take his shoulders, looking passionately into his expressive brown eyes. “Tonight, you are going to forget all about that miserable place.” Gaston brushed a strand of loose hair behind LeFou’s ear.

LeFou gave him a gentle smile. “What are you going to do?”

Gaston could feel LeFou’s spirits already lifting, and he pulled him in for another quick kiss. “Just wait here.” He winked and turned towards the door before LeFou could ask any more questions.

LeFou slipped down onto the stool at the counter. Gaston was the most charming man he’d ever known, and his loyalty was true. How on earth did LeFou ever manage to get so lucky?  

Gaston thought over his plan as he left the cottage. He knew a night out at the tavern might be a little much for LeFou right now in his delicate state of mind, therefore instead of planning a night of loud music and dancing, he went to find the lads. Once they were aware of how LeFou was feeling, all of them would be quickly on board with cheering him up. There was nothing like a bit of fun with your family to make someone feel better.

The summer air filled Gaston’s strong lungs as he inhaled the sweet scent of bread, pine, and flowers. Villeneuve’s distinct summer aroma. The villagers passed by the dozens, tending to their daily business.

“Afternoon, Gaston.” One of the village ladies called as she saw Gaston leaving his cottage.

“Good afternoon, Jane.” Gaston said, nodding to her and the girl's friend, Holly, who stood nearby. “Have either of you by chance seen where my hangers have run off to?” He asked them.

“I believe Jaques and Will are at the smithy stables, we just passed there.” Holly told him.

“Tom and Dick went to the bridge.” A man walking by said, overhearing their conversation. “They walked by with their fishing poles not an hour ago.”

Gaston nodded to the man in thanks and turned back to the women. “Thank you, and good day ladies.” He smiled charmingly and turned towards the hill, going past a few houses in a hurry, not wanting to leave LeFou alone for long. As Gaston approached, he could see the lads in the distance.

Dick was standing a few feet away from Tom as he reeled in a decent size fish. Tom reached to take the fish off the line as Dick held the pole in the air, waiting for Tom to remove it.

“Hello, Captain!” Tom called when he caught sight of Gaston approaching. “What brings you here?” He placed the fish in their net, stocked full of the afternoon’s produce.

“An invitation.” Gaston replied. “LeFou and I would like to have you over for dinner this evening. You don’t have plans do you?”

“For you, Captain, I would cancel any plans.” Tom said with a charming smile, then looked to Dick. “Except for you, of course, Richard.” He said with a wink.

Dick rolled his eyes with a chuckle and looked at Gaston, his expression growing with concern at the look on Gaston’s face. “Is LeFou alright? He seemed a little distracted at breakfast this morning.”

Gaston let out a deep breath before he started. After telling them about the situation and explaining why he wanted to have them all over tonight, the two men were even more willing than before to help provide a distraction for their Lieutenant tonight.

“Is there anything we can bring? Perhaps dinner from the Tavern?” Dick suggested.

“Sounds perfect.” Gaston told Dick and clasped each man on the shoulder. “Thank you, boys, I truly appreciate it. LeFou will be glad to see you again tonight.”

Dick smiled in response, and Tom nodded to the captain. “We will be there half past five.” Tom said.

With that in mind, Gaston made his way back to the cottage to tell LeFou of their plans. If everything worked out the way he wanted it to, he might have his normal, happy LeFou back before the morrow.   

After Gaston left the cottage, LeFou decided a nap was in order. He was more tired than he realized and dozed off quickly against the soft feather pillows, breathing in the familiar scent of his beloved Gaston until he fell to sleep. LeFou woke just enough to feel Gaston getting in bed beside him. He must have been back from wherever he was going.

“You're here.” LeFou whimpered, his eyes remaining closed as he felt Gaston near.

“I thought I might find you here when I saw you weren’t downstairs.” Gaston told him.

“I wanted a nap.” LeFou snuggled deeper into the huntsman’s bare chest. If he wasn’t so tired, he would have been swooning himself into a fit of feelings.  

Gaston gently kissed LeFou’s forehead and rubbed his back, pulling him deeper into sleep. “We can nap here, we don’t have anything to do until the lads come over for dinner this evening.”

Instead of sleeping, Gaston lay next to LeFou and made sure he was getting caught up on the rest he needed. He thought about the incident a year ago and how dreadful it had been. He swore he would never again let LeFou be taken from him.

After Gaston couldn’t stand lying still any longer, he got up, careful not to wake LeFou, and went to change into something appropriate for dinner with the lads. He chose a low cut, red shirt that would be sure to make LeFou blush all evening and a brown waistcoat and black trousers. He fixed his hair, pulled on a pair of boots, and left the room. Now he was going to do something very unordinary indeed.

LeFou woke to find Gaston missing from the bed. He yawned and stretched sleepily. The nap had helped him to feel more refreshed, at least, and he made his way towards the wardrobe to change. “Gaston?” LeFou called, hoping he was within earshot. “Did you say the lads were coming over for...” LeFou stopped when Gaston walked into the room with a basket of sheets and pillowcases. “What...what are you doing?” LeFou burst out a giggle and approached the huntsman. He reached to brush back a part of Gaston’s hair that had fallen forward, that stubborn bit that sometimes refused to stay put.

Gaston set the basket by the wall for washing later. “I’m getting ready for the lads to come by, what are you doing?” Gaston asked as if it were ordinary to see the huntsman doing the feminine side of house chores.

LeFou smiled and kissed his cheek, grazing his hand along the front of his shirt. “Alright, whatever you say, Captain. And...you look dashing as ever.”

Gaston raised an eyebrow, flashing that perfect smile before pressing a kiss to LeFou’s forehead in response. He was glad he seemed to noticed his favourite red shirt. Onto his next task, Gaston stepped out of the room.

He finished the process of changing the bedsheets in two of the guest bedrooms, knowing the lads would likely stay overnight. He wasn't one for these sorts of chores, but he didn’t want LeFou to have to worry about anything. He was just grateful he didn’t have to cook. Gaston finished making the beds and then went to find LeFou, who had just stepped out of the bedroom in a red waistcoat, tan trousers, and a white undershirt. His hair was still down but brushed out neatly, a spare ribbon hanging loosely from his pocket. “I’ll go get the kitchen cleaned up before they get here.” LeFou started down the hall.

“Already done, LeFou.” Gaston said.

LeFou turned to face him. “Really? Alright, I’ll go clean up the living room.”

“That is done too.” Gaston placed his hands on his hips in accomplishment.

LeFou’s eyes widened. “Then what is left to do?” He asked with a delighted smile on his face.

“I can think of something.” Gaston winked.

With a mischievous smirk, LeFou bit his bottom lip. “Your wish is my command, Captain.” He beamed. His face grew warm once again.  

Just before the lads came over, LeFou couldn’t seem to keep himself out of the kitchen. He set the table for seven and was just finishing up when Gaston went to answer the door.

“Good evening, fine gentlemen.” Will said with a smile, and entered first, with Jaques by his side. Stanley was always the quiet one of the group and stuck close by Tom and Dick as they walked into the cottage.

“Evening, boys.” Gaston said before going to his chair by the fireplace. LeFou sighed dreamily at the sight of him, magnificent as ever.

“How are you feeling, LeFou?” Dick asked as he approached him, setting a large basket he carried on the table. “Gaston told us you could use some cheering up.

LeFou looked down for a moment. “I’m assuming he told you why.”

Dick reached out and touched his arm gently. “You know we're here for you, just like we were then.”

LeFou nodded and glanced up to Gaston, who was talking to the lads by the fire. “I know you are, and I appreciate that. I feel better having everyone here. And Gaston made me feel better about it earlier.” LeFou said as the colour returned to his cheeks.

Dick laughed and put an arm around his friend. “Oh, I see. I’m sure that helped.”

LeFou giggled. “It always does. Gaston is so incredible.”

Dick began to take the food out of the basket. “There will never be another man quite like him, that’s for sure,”

LeFou helped Dick unwrap the food and placed it on dishes in the centre of the table, leaving the linen cloths over it to keep warm until they started.

“Dinner is ready.” LeFou chimed.

“What are we having?” Gaston asked as they came to join them at the dining room table.  

LeFou looked at Gaston. “Roasted lamb, potatoes, bread, and vegetables from the village garden.

“This smells amazing.” Will exclaimed.

Once they all sat down and filled their plates, Gaston began to tell a story about their war days, A particular incident where LeFou had been the one to receive the praise. LeFou blushed at the compliments and turned the conversation back in Gaston’s favour when he told them about another time that Gaston had saved the day. Just one of the other instances he was the hero, LeFou assured them, adding to Gaston’s ego.    

Villeneuve was just starting to quiet down on this warm summer's evening as Gaston brought some ale from his cellar to the kitchen. LeFou was finishing up making popcorn and began setting out the mugs as Stanley told him about his most recent work of art. Everyone but Stanley seemed to believe his art was good enough to make a fortune in Paris.

Tom and Dick busied themselves sorting poker chips and cards onto the table, preparing for their night of games and drinks. Will sat by the fire, watching as Jaques stoked the wood inside the hearth, keeping the blaze going for Gaston while he was getting them drinks.

LeFou bit his bottom lip as he watched Gaston lift the large barrel of ale onto the counter.

“Drinks are ready, boys!” Gaston said. And LeFou began to fill up the mugs.

“Wonderful.” Tom clapped his hands and made his way towards the kitchen. “What is a night with the boys, without drinks?”

“No one ever said it better, my friend.” Gaston agreed. And so the night of family and card games began.

After many drinks and competitive rounds of cards, Will and Jaques began to feel a bit bored. LeFou, naturally, was too busy swooning and fawning over Gaston and his many victories to be anything but highly entertained. That is until Will mischievously flicked a piece of popcorn at him.

LeFou looked up, a bit surprised, and started to giggle. He flicked a piece back at him before glancing at the other lads who didn't notice. Will threw two more at LeFou, to which Jaques added to the fight by throwing a piece at each of them.

Gaston, Tom, and Dick were not aware of the popcorn battle until it was far too late to stop it. It was when Will flicked a piece at Gaston, that everybody stopped what they were doing.

The lads began to giggle as Will flicked yet another piece, on purpose this time, into his face. LeFou covered his mouth with his hand, waiting to see what Gaston would do.

Without a word, Gaston got up, grabbed the bowl, and began throwing handfuls at all of the lads. Tom and Dick just shook their heads with laughter. They all still had so much boy in them. Before long, even LeFou joined in.

“Gaston, stop! We surrender!” LeFou squealed, giggling as he sat back down at the table, feeling his legs go wobbly. He brushed popcorn from his hair and watched as Gaston assumed a new target.

“We never surrender, boys! Not until the captain is defeated!” Will encouraged Stanley and Jaques as they approached.

“Or until all the popcorn is on the floor.” LeFou said as he watched Gaston walk to the kitchen where the primary source of the popcorn was.

Dick chuckled and turned to Tom. “This got out of hand fast.” He said and placed his cards on the table.

Gaston came back from the kitchen with the rest of the popcorn from the stove and walked towards Will, who backed, throwing his defence at the oncoming attacker.

“Now, do you surrender?” Gaston asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Never!” Will yelled and threw the rest of his popcorn at Gaston.

Jaques and Stanley laughed as they watched. “It’s over, Will, you know the Captain always wins.” Stanley giggled, a red hue coming to his cheeks.

Gaston smirked. “You really should listen to your comrade’s son.” He came close enough to dump all the popcorn onto him.

“Alright, alright, I suppose you win then.” Will brushed a piece off of his shoulder. “Congratulations, Captain, the victory is yours,” Will bowed.

“Then where is my trophy?” Gaston asked and set the popcorn down on one of the couches. He placed his hands on his hips.

LeFou gasped and nearly fell out of his chair on the way over to Gaston. He took his arm to keep his balance as he spoke to him.

“What is it, LeFou?” Gaston asked with a laugh, suddenly noticing how beautiful his excited, dark amber eyes were.

“We should give you a trophy!” LeFou beamed.

Gaston brushed back some of LeFou’s soft hair. “Then make me a trophy, LeFou, and I will hang it on my wall with the rest.”

LeFou began to think and looked to the lads. “I have an idea!” He squeaked and went upstairs to find a needle and thread. Gaston watched curiously along with Tom and Dick and sat down at the couch near the fire. The other lads soon joined him as they waited for LeFou to come back.

“No one's as brave as Gaston! Causes pain like Gaston!” LeFou sang as he came back down the stairs. “Then goes tromping around wearing boots like Gaston!”

Gaston raised an eyebrow as he looked towards his faithful companion. “LeFou, what are you doing?” He asked as LeFou picked up random pieces of popcorn from off the floor.

“I’m gathering the pieces I need to make your trophy, Gaston. You can hang it on the wall when I’m done.” He ran over to sit beside Gaston.”

Gaston gave a humoured look to the lads. LeFou intended to slip the popcorn onto a string as they did at Christmas, but it seemed he was too drunk to get the string into the needle in the first place. In frustration, LeFou finally gave up and set the needle and thread aside with a pout.

“It’s alright, LeFou.” Gaston promised him. “Here, feed me my trophy.” He said and opened his mouth.

LeFou giggled at that and began to put the pieces he held into his mouth, one by one, as he began to sing the Gaston song once more.

If a distraction is what LeFou needed, that is exactly what he got. As the evening wound down, everyone snuggled with their partners by the warm fire, feeling the cool summer breeze coming in through the window. Soon they began to drift off or find a place to rest for the night, as LeFou was far too unorganized this time to show everyone to the guest bedrooms himself.

Stanley was the last asleep, cuddled up on the couch with his lovers. Tom and Dick, being the sensible ones that they were, got up and went to find the guest bedroom upstairs so they could sleep in a proper bed. LeFou later reminded himself to wash the bedsheets after that night.

As the last of the candlelight began to fade into the night, Gaston pulled an exhausted, happy LeFou down onto the bear rug by the fire and allowed him to use his body as a pillow.

“I love you, LeFou,” Gaston nuzzled him, pulling him closer as the dying flames in the hearth began to lull him into sleep. “Sleep soundly, and have very good dreams tonight.” He said with a yawn.

Though LeFou was far too tired to respond, he must have heard what Gaston said because he did indeed sleep soundly and had no bad dreams.

With the year anniversary behind him, fading into the background just like the horrors he saw at the madhouse, LeFou was able to put it in the past that night. He knew that no matter what, with his loyal family surrounding him, he had a great and wonderful future ahead, and the secrets they shared would stay behind the walls of Gaston’s cottage, for only them to see.

The End

[candlelightscribe]

Mama Bear

LeFou took the last duck from the ground and tied it to the rope strung between two pine trees. The smell of smoked deer filled the air as Gaston sat crouched near the campfire, working on preserving the largest of his many kills. Some of the meat needed to be salted to keep it from rotting and other parts dried out in the sun until it was ready to pack away for later. “That’s all of them.” LeFou turned to Gaston. “Well, all the waterfowl at least.” He added.

Gaston glanced up at the line of hanging ducks behind LeFou. “I’ll get to those next,” Gaston told him. “The skins from yesterday are almost ready for the cart. We set our course for home tomorrow, at first light.”

LeFou walked over to where several deer skins hung over another nearby tree. “Is the mighty hunter satisfied with the number of kills he made?” He reached up to take down the fur pelts as he spoke.

“Yes, I am LeFou. We have more than enough for winter, and good thing; it’s going to be a long one this year. I can feel it in the wind.” Gaston said, looking up towards the grey sky.  

LeFou stood on his toes to reach the remaining skins on the higher branches. “I’m ready to be home. I miss our bed.” He said although he should be used to it, as it was the annual hunting trip Gaston took every year. Though LeFou still couldn’t help but miss home every year by the end of the seven-week autumn hunt.

“I, too, am ready for home,” Gaston told him. “I look forward to seeing the looks on everyone’s faces when they see how much game we brought home.”

LeFou pulled himself up onto the edge of the cart as he maintained his balance with the skins in his arms. He began sorting them into the right sections and thought about how they would fit everything inside. “I think you got more this year than the last, Gaston,” LeFou said with a grin.

Gaston began laying out the smoked meat to dry, noting that each section was thorough enough as he worked. “Last year, the rain hardly wanted to stop, all through autumn.” Gaston reminded him. “It made the tracking a nightmare.”

LeFou laughed at the memory. “Oh, yes, and we both caught such terrible colds by the time we got back to the village. We had so much tea that week.” LeFou walked over to Gaston and sat down on the blanket beside him. “So uh, I assume smoked deer is on the menu tonight?” LeFou asked.

Gaston glanced towards the cart that seemed to be bursting at the brim already. “Do we have any more potatoes or carrots from home?” He asked.

LeFou touched his chin for a brief moment as if recalling. “No, we ran out yesterday.”

Gaston nodded; he had assumed as much. “Then deer meat it is unless you want boar,” Gaston told him. Lefou scrunched up his face in an unappealing way, and Gaston laughed. “Or I could go catch a few delicate rabbits for you?”

LeFou smiled warmly at the offer. “Rabbit sounds good.” He told him. LeFou always preferred the softer meats rather than the toughness of boar or pork.

Gaston, who loved the idea of a quick hunt, got up from his place by the fire. “Alright, I’ll be back before you know it.” He told him. Though rabbits were a waste of time, in his opinion, he knew LeFou loved it when he set out on a hunt just for him.

“Do you want me to release a few of the dogs?” LeFou asked him when Gaston went to take the smaller of his two firearms from the tent.

“No, I won’t need them for this. Besides, the dogs are still tired from today's hunt,” Gaston told him.

LeFou nodded and got up to check the cart one last time for anything he could add to their dinner. The small barrels once holding the carrots and potatoes were now full of smoked and salted meats. He checked the front, right behind the passenger seat, thinking they had to have at least some apples left from home. If they did, they wouldn’t last much longer before going bad. LeFou lifted the lid off a small barrel, and to his luck, found four apples still at the bottom. He took the whole barrel out of the cart, knowing Gaston would want to put more meat in it later before they journeyed home. LeFou took the apples, as all of them still seemed in good enough shape to eat, and went back to the fire. He left them to rest on the blanket before going to the tent to start getting things situated in preparation for home.

When Gaston returned with two large rabbits, LeFou applauded him gratefully and sat down with a wet rag to clean off the apples before dinner. “I found a few green apples,” LeFou told him happily. “And some more space for the rest of the meat.”

Gaston pulled out his skinning knife and started on the rabbits. “Well done, my love,” Gaston told him. “A good dinner for our last night out.”

LeFou hummed in thought as he imagined sleeping in his bed tomorrow night, instead of the piles of blankets on the ground inside their makeshift, temporary home.    

 By the time dinner was served, the sun was just starting to make its way down past the trees, sending rays of glowing light that shimmered through the branches into their campsite. LeFou borrowed one of Gaston’s knives to cut up the apples into slices and then took his plate from Gaston when the rabbit meat was ready. “This is very good, love,” LeFou told him when he took a bite of the meat, followed by the fruit. The sweetness from the apple and the smoked rabbit blended perfectly together.

Gaston shoved a fork full of meat into his mouth and nodded at LeFou’s approval. “Not bad.” He told him, then took a few slices of apple. “Is there anything you would like to do tonight before returning home, LeFou?” Gaston asked. “I would suggest a midnight swim, but the nights are getting colder.”

LeFou shivered at the thought. “No cold water for me, please.” He told Gaston. LeFou didn’t care for the water much, not only because he could hardly swim but because he hated being cold, and the darkness of night made it look even more deadly.

“Perhaps in the summer then,” Gaston said, his mind returning to the things he still needed to do before they went home. “We should be back to Villeneuve before dusk,” Gaston told him and took the last bite of dinner before getting up. “If we leave soon enough.”

“Sounds good to me,” LeFou said with a smile. After he finished his dinner, he took the things they didn’t need until tomorrow to the cart as Gaston loaded up the last of the game. Together they got everything ready for the trip home just as the sun started trading places with the moon, bringing a crisp sort of nostalgia to the air.

Escaping the cold, LeFou burrowed deep inside the blankets as Gaston ducked down to step inside the tent. He closed the entrance behind him to block out any night chill. LeFou’s body lay just underneath the fur blankets, barely visible against the lantern light hanging from a thick stick above them.

Gaston blew out the candle, and excitement filled LeFou as he felt Gaston get down onto his knees and crawl through the darkness into the blankets beside him. The air entered the blankets for a moment, making LeFou shiver, though the cold quickly vanished against the warmth of Gaston’s body so close to his. “Mmm... you're so warm.” LeFou cooed happily and snuggled deeper into his chest. Gaston wrapped his strong arms around LeFou and kissed his head, the warmth between them making each more sleepy.

“We did well this year, LeFou,” Gaston said, listening to nothing but the gentle breathing of his partner. “We do well every year. But this year was exceptional.” He added. LeFou hummed in response and adjusted his arm against Gaston’s chest to burrow even deeper into comfort. “We’ll have enough to go around and more, and the money we make from the proceeds can go to our holiday savings next year.” The only response to Gaston’s words was LeFou’s breath growing heavier. Gaston smiled slightly and kissed the top of his head before nuzzling into him, allowing the sensation of sleep to pull him in as well. He loved how quickly LeFou had fallen to sleep, how safe he was in his embrace. No trouble sleeping, no nightmares, just peaceful, comfy, LeFou, without a care in the world. The fact that Gaston was able to be the man who pulled LeFou into such tranquillity made him feel like the luckiest man alive, with the most important job in the world, keeping LeFou safe.

Gaston’s heart leapt in his chest as LeFou pulled from his arms into an upright position. Small whimpers spilt from LeFou’s mouth as he tried desperately to warn Gaston of a possible threat.

Gaston shook the drowsiness from his head and reached to find LeFou in the darkness. “LeFou, it’s only a dream love, I’m here,” Gaston said as he found LeFou’s hand. He could feel him trembling slightly and placed an arm around his back.

“I…” LeFou swallowed hard, taking a breath. “I thought I heard something, an animal in the woods.” He realized it was probably just a dream, but the feeling that something was out there still pressed at his mind.

“Will it make you feel better if I go check it out?” Gaston asked and brushed his face gently with the back of his hand.

LeFou nodded, and Gaston pressed a kiss to his brow. “Alright,” Gaston said and reached across the tent with the hand that LeFou wasn’t holding in a death grip and grabbed his pistol. “Don’t worry, LeFou. I’ll protect you if something is out there.” He promised and might have winked if LeFou would have been able to see it.  

LeFou took a deep breath, reassured by Gaston’s words as he listened to the silence outside their tent. “I’m ready for home.” He admitted. “All these noises are so frightening sometimes.”

Gaston chuckled. “You're such a girl, LeFou.”

LeFou hummed and leaned closer to Gaston. “And you're... such a... such a man.” He said, almost dreamily as he thought about it.  

Gaston held his arm around LeFou for only a moment more before pulling away. “I’ll go look around our camp and be right back.” He promised.

LeFou held the blankets close to his chest as Gaston made his way to the front of the tent. “Be careful,” LeFou called to him.

“Always am,” Gaston replied, though he wasn’t, and pulled open the entrance of their safe place. He peered out into the moonlit darkness for a moment before stepping out into the night. LeFou swallowed hard in anticipation, his stomach hurting with worry as the shadow of Gaston left his sight.

After surveying the campsite and not hearing or seeing anything to be concerned about, Gaston came back to find LeFou still wide awake and waiting for him. “Nothing,” Gaston told him. “Just a quiet forest.” LeFou took a relieved breath as Gaston entered the tent. “But the dawn is nearly here; we might as well get breakfast and start on our way home,” Gaston said and crouched down in front of LeFou.

“Alright,” LeFou said tiredly. “If you insist.”

Gaston gave LeFou a quick kiss on the lips. “I do.” He told him before leaving the tent again to get the fire started for breakfast.

LeFou laid back down tiredly. “Alright, just give me a minute.” He told him, his eyelids growing heavy, drowsiness threatening to envelop him.

LeFou woke to the gentle song of birds singing in the forest. It was light out, and the tent was nearly empty. He could smell bacon cooking on the stove outside the tent and heard Gaston singing softly to himself. LeFou scolded himself for falling back to sleep and hurried quickly from his nest of blankets, grabbing his coat on the way out. Gaston had been polite enough to let him sleep in, and now he felt guilty.

“Good morning,” Gaston said with a smirk as LeFou came stumbling from the tent. LeFou noticed as fog still made its way through the trees; it was still early, and the sun must have just risen. “A minute, huh, LeFou?” Gaston teased him.

“I’m sorry, Gaston,” LeFou apologized and approached the huntsman, who handed him a plate of bacon.

Gaston started on his breakfast, ripping off half of a bacon strip with his teeth. “Most everything is ready to go,” Gaston told LeFou and glanced around to make sure he didn’t forget anything. “I loaded up the rest early this morning. The weather is good, so it won’t take us long to get back.”  

LeFou nibbled on his bacon quietly as Gaston continued talking about plans and the journey home. Once finished with breakfast, LeFou started gathering up the plates and other utensils from last night’s dinner. He pulled his jacket around him tighter, wishing for the sun to hurry up and warm the air so it wouldn’t be so chilly outside. Gaston put out the fire before he started tearing down the house they had been living in for over a month and taking the parts of it to the cart they had brought with them.

LeFou had just walked away from the campfire, going to take the last of the dishware to the cart, when he heard an odd sound coming from the forest. The same sound he remembered in his dream last night, of which he had only just recalled. LeFou nearly dropped the dishes but managed to keep them in his arms as he glanced into the brush to see what it might be. He nearly jumped out of his skin as an uproar of barking came from the dogs, still contained by the cart. He turned to Gaston for help and saw he was also listening and watching for what might happen next, his hand steady on his gun.

LeFou’s heart dropped when he saw a tiny, furry thing struggling out of the bushes, utterly oblivious to their presence and crying out for help, frightened by the dogs. LeFou would have found it adorable if it wasn’t for the next sound that followed, a sound of beastly rage, met by the angry, persistent barking of their protective dogs.

Gaston cocked his musket without a moment's hesitation as he ran to LeFou, just as a bear came blundering out of the forest. He held out an arm, nearly pushing LeFou back behind him as he stood their ground, ready to protect LeFou. Gaston yelled out in an attempt to intimidate the creature, but this didn’t seem to faze it. LeFou’s heart raced as Gaston aimed for the snarling beast, its mouth foaming as it charged the two men.

With one shot, the creature fell, sliding hard into the earth before them. Silence enveloped the forest for a moment as the panic of what had just happened set in, and the dogs quieted once they saw their master had killed the beast. Gaston took a breath and walked over to the animal. To be sure, he fired another shot into its skull and lifted the corner of its mouth with his boot. “She was diseased,” Gaston told his partner. “Something may have bitten her.”

LeFou set everything he had been holding on the ground and approached Gaston. “Well, I doubt it lived to tell the tale.”

Gaston shrugged. “Probably a badger or skunk.” He said and looked at the baby bear as it wiggled its way from the brush to its mother. Gaston sighed as the tiny ball of fuzz rooted around in her fur for milk.

“Oh…you poor baby,” LeFou cooed and reached down to the baby bear.

“LeFou,” Gaston said in a stern tone, knowing the moment LeFou made contact with the infant, it would only make matters worse. The baby was going to starve, they had a hard decision to make, but it was the only thing they could do.

“Come here, it’s alright,” LeFou said, clearly not hearing Gaston. He scooped the baby bear into his arms as it cried out in fear, unsure about what was going on.

“LeFou,” Gaston said again. “You know what needs to be done. We can’t take care of a wild animal.”

“Oh, but Gaston.” LeFou chimed, adoring the creature in his arms. “Don’t be so mean,” He said cutely and looked at the huntsman. “We can’t just leave him,” He added, a bit more persistent than before, though he still wore that cute look on his face. The look he only wore when he saw something adorable.

Gaston sighed; LeFou just didn’t understand these things. Sometimes he wondered if he should rethink taking him on hunting trips altogether. “Not leave, LeFou…” Gaston said regretfully.

LeFou’s mouth dropped, and his brow furrowed into a look of horror. “Gaston! No! We can’t; that’s terrible!”

Gaston rubbed the back of his neck in frustration. “It has to be done, LeFou; we cannot take a bear back to Villeneuve.” LeFou held the baby close to his chest and looked down at its dead mother. “I’m sorry, I don’t like it either,” Gaston told him. “But it has to be done.”

LeFou pursed his lips into a pout, looking back to the huntsman. “But Gaston, it’s a baby!” LeFou exclaimed. Gaston looked to the bear cub, no bigger than a large rabbit, and sighed. What on earth was he to do? Even if they could wean the small creature, it would only grow up and become a dangerous predator. Then what? LeFou was not using his head. “Please, Gaston?” LeFou begged as the baby bear wiggled around in his arms. “We can find someone that will take him. We can set him free when he gets old enough.”

Gaston looked to LeFou in adoring irritation. “You're such a softy, LeFou.” He told the shorter man, who smiled because he could tell Gaston was giving in to his pleas.

“We can find someone to help, someone that cares. Huh, little guy?” LeFou said, talking to the bear again.

Gaston rolled his eyes and picked up the items off the ground that LeFou had put down moments ago. “Alright, I’ll see if one of the lads can help us figure out something to do with the little threat,” Gaston said and started towards the horses.

“Oh, you're not a threat.” LeFou chimed in an adoring voice.

 A small smile formed on the corner of Gaston’s mouth as he listened to his partner coo over the animal. “Are you coming, LeFou?” Gaston asked.

LeFou looked down at the baby with an adoring smile. “See, he’s not heartless,” He told the bear and looked down at the mother. “I’ll take care of him.” He promised, feeling almost guilty for taking the baby as he hurried after Gaston. LeFou knew they should do away with her body, but as deep as they were in the forest, the trees were sure to catch fire. And because Gaston wanted to get home before nightfall, they wouldn’t have enough time to dig a hole her size.

LeFou got situated in the front seat, and Gaston released the dogs, making his way to the back of the cart, a hesitant expression on his face. “What is it, Gaston?” LeFou asked him.

Gaston held his chin thoughtfully, trying to decide how much room they had in the back. “I was thinking of taking the bear, though I’m not sure we have room. We could use another rug.”

LeFou chuckled. “Could we, though?”

Gaston pursed his lips before looking towards the bear. She had the madness disease; maybe it wasn’t worth it. “But I hate to let her go to waste,” Gaston argued with himself at this point, as if being a rug on his floor would somehow make the bear’s death a justified or honourable one.

“It’s alright, my love. I’m sure you’ll have another opportunity for another bear rug.” LeFou told him. “One bigger than her anyway.” He said to Gaston, trying to make him feel better.

Gaston shrugged, the cart was already too full, and much more weight would probably break a wheel or strain the horses, and he couldn’t leave any of the meat behind. “Alright,” Gaston said with a sigh and got up into the cart next to LeFou. He shook his head at the tiny creature in LeFou’s arms, playfully mocking him for being so soft. “I can’t believe you, LeFou. What are you going to feed him?” Gaston asked and took the horse’s reins, snapping them just enough for the horses to get going.

With a jerk, the carriage leapt forward as they set into motion. “Goats milk,” LeFou chirped and looked back at the empty campsite, where the past several weeks of memories would disappear, all but inside their heads. The dead bear was far enough out of the site that LeFou couldn’t see her as they drove away, and he was grateful she was at least out of her misery.

“I’m sure old Farmer Bill will love you for that.” He laughed. “LeFou, do you know how much milk a baby bear needs?” He asked him.

LeFou was hardly listening and beamed at the baby in his arms as it grew sleepy. “We’re going to find out, aren’t we?” He giggled and stroked the baby's head.

Gaston laughed and placed his arm around LeFou as they rode back towards home, allowing the smaller man to lean into his side for support. “Ah, LeFou,” Gaston said and shook his head. “No one, and I mean no one, is sweeter than you are.”

Gaston wiped his muddy boots off at the front door and walked into the living room. He smiled when he saw LeFou sitting at the dining room table, as he had done so faithfully for the past three weeks. LeFou, by nature, had wanted to name the baby a day into having him, although Gaston told him it wouldn’t make it any easier when he had to part with him. Still, LeFou couldn’t help himself. The little one had to have a name, LeFou told Gaston, even if he wasn’t staying long.

“Hello, Gaston,” LeFou said happily, his concentration breaking from feeding the baby bear. “Did you find out who's been trespassing in Farmer Charloun's crops?” He asked, turning back to the baby in his arms.

“Only some of the village lads up to a little fun last night,” Gaston said as he hung his coat over his mighty armchair. “I sent Pere Robert over to the schoolhouse today to have a word with them. Anyway, no real harm done. How was your time without me?” Gaston asked with a smirk and leaned over to kiss LeFou.

LeFou hummed happily. “Dreadfully lonely.” He said dreamily and motioned to the bear as if he could understand him. “Look, Daddy’s home,” LeFou said to the baby as he removed the empty bottle from its mouth. A bottle Gaston had made especially for him out of a pig’s bladder.

The bear squalled as LeFou adjusted him in his arms, cooing sweetly at him. “Oh, Gaston! Look, he’s starting to get around better on his own!” LeFou said and set the cub on the floor, where the baby bear started almost frolicking towards the stairs.

Gaston sighed; now he must tell LeFou he had also just come back from speaking with the lads about this little creature that had recently taken up residence in their house. “Alright, Mama Bear, let’s talk,” Gaston said and sat down on the couch, patting the spot beside him for LeFou to sit. Recently Gaston had gotten into the habit of calling LeFou by the adorable nickname, Mama Bear, whenever he saw him acting like a mother to the baby bear, and LeFou seemed to love it.

LeFou picked up Snuggle Bear, wincing when the little one began using his hand as something to teethe on. He quickly pulled his hand away and grabbed the rope toy from off the table. One he had made for him days ago. LeFou sat down, and the baby started gnawing on the toy happily. “You found a home for him, didn’t you?” LeFou guessed. Gaston nodded with the raise of his eyebrows, and a sigh escaped LeFou’s lips. “That’s alright; I knew it couldn’t last forever.” He said and petted the cub’s head lovingly. “But I am going to miss you, little one.” He told him and kissed the bear’s head. Gaston put his arm around LeFou and let him lean in close to his chest. He was glad LeFou was taking it well; he honestly wasn’t sure he would, as attached as he seemed to be. It made Gaston wonder if LeFou ever wanted to be a father someday.

“One of the boys finally got back to me; he said he knows a man who knows a family that will take this little Snuggle Bear off our hands,” Gaston said and scratched the bear’s head around the ears.

LeFou laughed inwardly. To hear Gaston say that name still made him smile. It was both adorable and a little humorous. “Oh? Where from?” LeFou asked curiously.

“A family in Bordeaux. They live on a large reservation and take in mostly injured or small animals, like foxes or lynx. But they said it would be ok if we brought him to the farm this weekend.” Gaston rubbed his fingers in LeFou’s hair as he spoke, admiring his round face and long eyelashes.  

LeFou took a breath and snuggled deeper into Gaston, watching as the baby bear played about between their laps. “I’m glad he’ll be ok,” LeFou said. “At least we were able to help him. Do you think they will keep his name?” LeFou chimed.  

Gaston laughed. “We may very well ask them to keep his name.” He said and kissed LeFou’s head. He would never stop admiring how truly good LeFou was and how loving. Though he might not admit it, Gaston would be lost without him, for LeFou was his heart.

LeFou looked up with a smile in his eyes and leaned upward, kissing Gaston on the lips with a content hum. “Thank you, Gaston. I do love you so very much.”

The End

[candlelightscribe]

A collection of thirty short stories about the peaceful and sometimes adventurous lives of Gaston and LeFou. Join them on their day to day lives in their quaint little town of Villeneuve, on Holiday in Paris, and even on the hunt. This is a feel good and fluffy series for those cold and rainy days.