Gaston paced the tavern. It was afternoon now and the girl had disappeared. "Le Fou, I want to do something for her. I'm not sure what though." He grumbled.

"A gift? That's very unlike you." Le Fou noted. "I did see her last night. She seemed nice, but different. Kinda like-"

"You know we don't speak of her anymore," Gaston interrupted, a slight look of sorrow on his face. He lost a lot when he lost Belle and vowed to be better. "Plus this girl is even different from Belle. She's unlike any girl I've ever met."

Le Fou set off on the mission to find something suitable for the girl, but it was difficult considering that he never properly met her. Every time he brought something - hats, flowers, pastries - Gaston disapproved.

He would do it himself. What do different girls like? Belle was different. So what did she like? He grinned and entered the book shop confidently.

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It was time to go through the Attic now. Babette smiled eagerly, ready to take on the task of cleaning out and organizing the place. The Attic was pitch-black. She allowed her eyes to adjust to the new light and finally found a candlestick. She lit a match and then the candlestick.

A candlestick. Her heart burned at the thought. The irony. Something she used to hold so dear to her now had to be pushed aside. Alone in the Attic, she let herself cry. It felt good to cry. She had been taking in a lot: a new town, no friends, and a new guy. Did she like Gaston? Maybe a little. Was he Lumiere? Definitely not.

She'd never get over him. Everything felt hopeless. She cried, falling to the floor, and let herself wallow in self pity yet again. There was a knock on the door. Had to be Gaston.

She stood up, collecting herself, took the candlestick downstairs, and wiped the tears out of her eyes.

"Bonjour Gaston," she greeted lightheartedly. He smiled, putting his hands behind his back.

"Babette! Every time we meet is sweeter than the last. What are you up to?" He greeted.

"Just cleaning the Attic. Come on in," she offered, taking one last look at the candlestick and putting out its flame with her fingers.

"I just wanted to thank you for coming last night. I wanted to get you something," he smiled warmly, pulling out a gift. Babette took it and gracefully opened the gift. A story on Helen of Troy.

"I've been looking for something new to read. Thank you!" Babette exclaimed, giving him a hug. Gaston pulled back slowly with a small smile on his face.

"I'd like to ask for another chance. Come down for another drink tonight?" Gaston asked.

"Of course. I've been meaning to meet some people down here. Maybe you can introduce me to some?" She offered. He nodded.

"I can't wait to see you again, Babette," he kissed her hand and let himself out. Babette went over to the chaise and sat down. She opened the book and started reading.

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Lumiere went through his stuff in his room. He grabbed an extra set of his clothes and the piece of bread he took from the kitchen. He threw both in his satchel and walked towards the door. He turned back quickly and grabbed it: a dainty gold ring with a small gem. It was the ring his grandfather gave his grandmother, but now it was to be Babette's gift. If she would accept.

He traveled out of his room and to the large front door at the entry. "Where do you think you're going?" Cogsworth asked, pulling Lumiere from the door.

"I'm not going to lose her. Please my friend, I wouldn't be leaving if it wasn't important. I'll be back by tomorrow, maybe the day after," he begged. Cogsworth shrugged, opening the door for Lumiere. Lumiere sighed a breath of relief. "Thank you so much! I'm forever grateful."

Lumiere ran out the door and to the stable. He grabbed the reigns of the brown stallion that he always rode when he went out on rides with Babette. "Come on. We're going to Belle's old village. I don't know exactly where it is, but we'll find it." He spoke to the horse, climbing on and guiding him into a trot eastward.