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Once Upon A Time	By : Madame_Lazla Category: +1 through F > Beauty and the Beast (Disney) > Beauty and the Beast (Disney) Views: 11063 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Beauty and the Beast, nor do I own any of the characters in it. I only own the pervertedness. In conjunction, this is a work of pleasure - I make no money from it

Chapter List
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Once Upon A Time…There Were Fights
Another item flew across the room – Adam’s favourite teapot, believe it or not. A small part of the blond beauty wanted to rush after it and catch it before it hit the ground. The main part was glaring at the figure who had thrown it.
“Your aim is off, Great Hunter.”
That did the trick. The angular, chiselled face contorted in contempt and he disappeared onto the balcony in a strop. Adam’s second hunch was correct – the man hated criticism. It would seem that nobody in his small provincial town had bothered to notice any of the hunter’s flaws, never mind point them out.
Adam halted, not sure if he should follow the man outside. The rail was not high enough and the raveen a great distance below. The temptation to push the other man over might prove too great. But he couldn’t exactly hold a conversation – or argument – out of earshot, so with a sigh he echoed the hunter’s footsteps.
A sudden gust of wind found its way under Adam’s shirt. Up ahead, taunting fate by sitting on the banister, glistening black waves were obscuring a rather malicious expression.
“So what’s the occasion this time? You do know you saw me yesterday?” the haughty tenor carried over.
Adam leaned on the banister, making sure he was out of the brute’s reach. “You look better every day,” he stated matter-of-factly. No need to be at each other’s throats just yet.
The man opposite him (for Adam would not admit that they were sitting close to each other) looked genuinely surprised at hearing the blonde’s words. He covered the shock with a smug smirk and a tilted chin. “I know.”
God, the man was a narcissist. It was vexing and entertaining at the same time. “So much better that you can hop on your horse and trot out my castle.”
“Now?” a thick eyebrow was raised and the other man shifted so that he was no longer sitting. The vulnerability of his positioning had clearly only just occurred to him.
“Mon Dieu, monsieur – so soon? Well, if you insist…” The words by themselves were sincere. But Adam raised his eyebrows and cocked his head, his face and tone of voice clearly stating otherwise. A small lock of golden hair found its way out of his ribbon and waved in front of his face with abandon.
Said monsieur narrowed his crystal irises and pursed his lips before getting up slowly. His bare feet hardly made a sound as he slowly advanced. Everything in Adam suggested he move out the way of a possible attack, but his eyes locked on the form closing the small distance between them and the near feral eyes. They were inches apart, breathing each other’s air and Adam felt a little part of him swoon. Well, not necessarily swoon…a little part of him felt dizzy from breathing the other man’s carbon. And only for that reason.
Seconds that felt like seasons ticked away and neither the hero nor the villain moved. Icecaps met light blue sky, transfixed. He had obviously taken Adam’s advice and opted for a bath, because he looked so clean and smelt so good. Adam never thought that the human he hated more than life itself would radiate such warmth that seemed to burn into his skin. He was almost too afraid, too excited, to reach out and see if the heat was real.
“I could push you off, nice and easy,” there was still that boorish self-indulgence, only the voice was lower in pitch, softer, smoother.
Something in Adam’s chest did an involuntary flip. This was not good. Surely it was only because he was potentially dead. “Liar,” he managed to breathe out, a shakily smirk adorning his lips. It was getting too intense and he needed air before he strangled the dark mass of muscles; before he wrestled him to the ground and…
Those hard, mean lips quirked and Adam was given the space that he so desperately craved. He sucked in too much air and felt it instantly go to his brain.
“So true, Your Majesty. I like it when my prey fights back.”
Adam had to control his eyes from falling out his head. Prey? He was someone’s prey? As if he was some thoughtless, weak doe ambling through the undergrowth and incapable of defending itself. Suddenly the anger resurfaced and Adam was mildly relieved. He could deal with anger.
He shot himself up, desperate to get some of the power back. He then remembered his irritation tactics and shot the object of his deep passionate hatred a saccharine smile. He made back into the room, stopping eye-to-nose with the raven-head to pat him amicably on the shoulder.
“Why monsieur, with your aim I suppose I’ll be very much alive come hunting season,” his smile turned genuine when the thug’s smug air was replaced with a dark scowl as he glared down at Adam.
“My aim is perfect. I’m still recuperating, you’ll see!”
“Can’t wait,” Adam threw the sugary-sweet phrase over his shoulder as he strode out the Room of Evil.
Naturally dodging his favourite teacup as it flew after him.

“That’s the biggest horse I’ve ever seen, isn’t it Mama?” Chip bounced on the balls of his feet, reaching his small hands towards the creature. Mrs Potts held him back with an equally tiny hand, chortling slightly, “Now, Chip, it isn’t good manners to go around touching people’s animals. Why don’t you look at the other horses with Louis? There’s a good boy. Have you been to see him, dear?”
The last part had been directed at Adam as Mrs Potts left her son with the young, pock-marked stable boy. The large coal stallion before him rolled its bloodshot eyes and perked its ears backward, baring its large, blunt teeth in a threat.
“Horrible little creature,” Mrs Potts said neutrally as she straightened up and stared the horse in the eye, “Could’ve had me Chip’s finger in a heartbeat!”
Adam stood a safe distance away from the beast’s stall door, feet shoulder-length apart and hands clasped firmly around the riding crop behind his back. His loose hair was slightly windswept and his race flushed in the afterglow of a good healthy ride. His intention was to break the stallion in, have him live in the palace stables, but the animal – much like its master – was irrationally difficult. It had been an exhilarating hour trying to keep on the thing though.
“What should I do Mrs Potts? I go to the West Wing with good intentions but… he makes me so mad…” he wasn’t going to talk about the other disconcerting feeling the horse’s owner forced upon him.
“Well, for starters you can feed the poor dear,” Adam inwardly cringed at the no-nonsense tone of his minder’s voice, “Honestly, Adam, the boy’s only human! If you wanted him dead you should have left him floating!”
“I didn’t choose to – do you hear that?” Adam’s tirade was cut off by the rustling of bushes. He’d been feeling watched ever since he left the West Wing a fortnight ago. He pinned it off to paranoia and the heat but at times like this he wasn’t sure.
“Stop changing the subject!” Mrs Potts looked right peeved, “How would you feel if you were him? Rejected by the woman you love and forced to live at the mercy of the man you lost her to? Poor thing.”
“You forget I lost her too.”
“That’s enough out of you. You brought this all on yourself. Now go get washed up for lunch. I mean it – go!”
***
As Adam felt the feeling leave the back of his head, he knew he hadn’t been paranoid. As he felt the blunt connection to the nape of his neck, he knew that he should have been more vigilant.
And all before he’d even gotten into the castle.
He’d been on the bridge, slowly moving his tired thighs towards the imposing structure. The heat had beat down on his back and he had removed the white cotton shirt that had stuck to his back.
All of a sudden he’d been on his stomach, feeling the small trickle of blood trail down his head. Above him, someone roared. On instinct he rolled to the left, narrowly missing the axe as it clanked against the stone. The sudden movement made Adam dizzy, but his reasoning was in hyper-drive. He needed to defend himself and he needed to do it inside.
He shot his leg up and it connected with something warm and soft, making his attacker howl. He heard the axe drop behind him and used the opportunity to scramble to his feet and bolt for the doors. The sound of heavy, laboured footsteps was not far behind him.
He burst through the doors, making a tapestry jump. Lumière and Babette slid out from under it, looking guilty until they saw their master covered in dirt and bleeding down his front.
“Sacre bleu! Master, what is the meaning of this!?” Lumière moved towards his frenzied master but not before the door burst open again.
Adam took in the dark boots, black tights and tight red shirt before his eyes recognised the face, “YOU!”
The houseguest known as Gaston gave a grin as manic as his gaze, “Bon nuit, Bete.”
Adam hardly had time to gape at the lunatic before he was tackled to the ground, fists connecting to whatever part of the prince they could reach. Not one to be bested, Adam placed his knee between them and turned to his side. The madman was thrown onto the ground beside him and Adam clamoured up, trying to reach the stairs. He felt the red runner burn his stomach and nipples and gave a slight yowl as he was pulled by his leg.
He turned as much as he could and bent his leg, flexing it so he kicked the larger man in the stomach. His assailant staggered back a bit with a dark expression, before going blank and falling unceremoniously between Adam’s legs.
“Is he dead?” Babette gasped as she looked over the body, the frying pan still raised above her head.
So began the assassination attempts.
***
Mon Dieu, monsieur: My God, good sir (loosely translated)
Sacre bleu: “Sacred blue” which is like “Good Heavens”
Bon nuit, Bete: Good night, Beast
A/N: The runner that I mention is the red carpet that runs down the stairs to the front door ^^.
- 5
- 6
- 7
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Once Upon A Time