It was a beautiful evening. Moonlight streamed through the kitchen windows and rippled on the stone floor. A low fire crackled soothingly in the grate. All was still and quiet, with most of the residents of the castle in bed in preparation for what promised to be a busy day.

Cogsworth and Nicolette shared a brief smile, but broke eye contact quickly. It was just the two of them, alone in the kitchen by the fire. A perfect romantic setting, the ideal time to share words of passion, to melt into one another's arms, to entwine as lovers, to share a perfect kiss...

“So,” said Cogsworth. “How was your day?”

Nicolette realised she had been miles away. “Oh,” she said, startled. “Fine. How about you?”

“You mean after our charming – one might even say enchanting – guest had been shown every spare bedroom in the castle before finding one that was to her liking? Fine.”

Nicolette smiled prettily, looking into the fire. Cogsworth looked at the way she blinked, watched a curl fall loose and tumble into her face – it was always the same curl, he noted – and the way she chewed her lip when she was thinking.

“It's going to be strange, having an Enchantress in the castle.”

“If by strange you mean an utter farce that will be disastrous for all concerned, I couldn't agree more.”

Nicolette winced. “You think it will be that bad?”

Cogsworth adjusted his position in the chair. “Tomorrow morning, fifty guests from all corners of the known world will arrive for the annual Christmas Ball. A single mistake could lead to disaster, and there's not a single person in this castle who doesn't shoulder a considerable responsibility to make sure things go smoothly.” He paused for a moment. It was this bit that always gave him a headache. It was Cogsworth's experience that anything you want done properly should either be done by yourself or under your careful supervision. Delegation gave him nightmares. He composed himself. “Anyway, all this has to be co-ordinated by the prince and princess, under the guidance of yours truly, and what are they worried about? Not the fifty dignitaries, but one spoiled teenage girl with a pointy stick. It's a disaster waiting to happen.”

“I suppose there's no chance that dear little Elsie could just be given a cookie and sent on her way?” Nicolette knew this was a ridiculous suggestion, but she had seen the Enchantress everyone was so worried about, and she was still grappling with the ludicrous way all the other maids scurried past her with their heads down.

Cogsworth went quite pale at the idea. “Certainly,” he said. “Although due to an oversight on my part, the invitations do not actually mention that the household management accepts no responsibility for any change in body shape and/or species resulting from their decision to join us for the festive season.”

Nicolette giggled. After a moment, Cogsworth joined in, and before long they were both laughing with no real concept of what had been so funny. Despite everything, they were both in particularly high spirits – and Nicolette took advantage of the moment to take hold of Cogsworth's hand.

---

“Well, I like her,” said Belle, innocently, closing her book and laying it aside.

Her husband stared at her incredulously. “She's a vain, spoiled brat who's only here to make everyone's life a misery!”

Belle hid a smile. “Yes, dear.”

“Her older sister cursed me -” He caught her glance and amended this, quickly, “I mean, and everyone else, for ten years. She's a monster!”

Belle adjusted her pillows and slithered under the sheets. “I know.”

“How can you say you like her?”

Belle managed to look nonchalant with her face half-buried in a pillow. “I think she's got potential.”

“Hmph.” Aware that he was being teased, the Prince blew out the last candle in their room and joined his wife in bed.

“Good to have you back, by the way,” she murmured.

“Good to be here,” he replied.

There was silence for a blissful moment. Then there came a knock at the door.

“Excuse me,” said a young, pretty voice that grated on the Prince's ears like nails down a blackboard, “but could you have one of your servants bring me a glass of water?”

“I'll kill her,” the Prince growled into his pillow. “I'll kill her!”

---

An ambush was waiting for Cogsworth as he made his way to his chamber. Lumière leapt out from behind a statue, grinning like a crocodile.

“There you are!” said Lumière.

“Aaaaagghh,” said Cogsworth, with feeling.

“I just thought I would let you know that all is in place for your serenade tomorrow.”

Cogsworth shook his head. “Oh, no. I won't do it, and that's my final word on the subject. Find some other way to amuse yourself – or better yet, get some work done. The Christmas Ball is our busiest time of the year and it all starts tomorrow.”

“You are right, of course.”

Cogsworth nearly passed out right there in the corridor. “What?”

“You are right. You serenading Nicolette... it is not a good idea.”

“Right.” Cogsworth was suspicious.

“That is why I am going to do it.” Lumière smiled again. “Ah, yes, that is perfect! I'll do the singing and you can just pretend!”

“No,” said Cogsworth, firmly. “Absolutely not.”

“I'll see you in the morning to rehearse.”

And with that, Lumière was gone.