Gaston | ON HOLD

EIGHT

Who plays darts like Gaston? Who breaks hearts like Gaston? Who's much more than the sum of his parts like Gaston...
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"Hello."

Stepping to the side, a chubby little man moved forward from behind Tom.

"The name's LeFou," he smiled, extending his hand towards Morgan. "And I like warm hugs."

"Oh--" Morgan took a hesistant step back before gripping the front of her robe. "I um--"

LeFou's lips curled back over his slightly discolored teeth. "Forgive me mademoiselle, I was just kidding," he cackled. "What I'm really after is Gaston. Is he here?"

There was a loud yawn behind Morgan as LeFou's eyes flicked to something just over her shoulder.

"Speak of the devil." LeFou's face scrunched up as he shoved past Morgan, inviting himself in to her apartment. "You are the scum between my toes," he addressed Gaston. "Hope you slept well, dick-head."

"What the hell is going on here?" Morgan challenged.

"Maybe you should tell us," Tom hissed. His eyes traveling toward the half naked Gaston.

At least he had the decency to put his boxers back on, Morgan thought.

"Look, you seem like a really nice person and all," LeFou smiled at Morgan, "and personally I'd love nothing more than to leave Gaston here. But, the girls want him back." He scowled as he turned back towards the hunter. "And they seem hell-bent on destroying my life until I bring you to them."

Morgan gulped. "Girls?" She squeaked. "As in plural?"

LeFou nodded. "Laurette, Claudette and Paulette," he answered.

"I tried to warn you," Tom harshly whispered as Morgan faltered slightly.

"Oh god," she pressed a hand to her head.

"Wait! Wait just one minute." With a horrified look, Gaston rushed towards Morgan. "Sweetheart, no. I swear it's not what you think," he said-- but Morgan wasn't buying.

"I should have known it was too good to be true," she hissed, shoving Gaston so hard he stumbled backwards into LeFou.

"Oh! You think that he-- oh, okay," LeFou mumbled while taking hold of Gaston's hand. "Makes things easy for me."

Using his free hand, the chubby, little man dug into his pocket and pulled out a large, glowing bean. Morgan had no idea what significance the magical item could possibly hold, but as the large huntsman suddenly fell to his knee's, she could only assume it was rather important to his staying here in New York.

"LeFou, wait!" Gaston begged as he fell to the floor. "Please, my old friend, just hear me out--"

"Friend?" LeFou sneered, raising the bean high above his head. "Friends don't leave friends for dead!"

"I know, I know," Gaston muttered as he rose his hand in submission. "And I'm sorry."

LeFou lowered the bean ever so slightly. "You're-- you're just saying that."

Morgan guessed that during the many years LeFou and Gaston had spent together, the shorter man had never heard the hunter utter those words before. But a lot had changed in seven days.

"No, I'm not," Gaston shook his head. "LeFou, there is nothing I can say to make up for the way I've treated you in the past and for that I am truly sorry. Truth be told, before the Enchantress sent me here, I didn't know how to be a friend. I'm still learning, but if you'll give me another chance--"