Beautiful Thievery

  "Tale as old as time."

  I follow Gaston through the quiet and secluded village. Every turn we make looks exactly the same, a cobblestone street of Swedish style cottages decorated with rosebuds. Each in a town with, a few empty stores, a couple small restaurants, and--

  "A bookstore!" I shriek, "Gaz I have to go in there!"

  "No." He replies, smacking Lefou upside the head with his hand.

  "Let the lady go." Aramis motions towards the shop.

 "I am not letting her blow our cover again." Gaz grows threatening, his entire posture lifting, his eyes going wild, progressively shrinking Aramis' confidence.

  "What? Are you afraid that a girl as frail and gentle like me would blow our 'cover'?" I ask batting my eyes, my eyelashes tickling my cheeks. Gaston nods, "I am appalled, plus I don't need your permission to go into a book store. So, I am out." I skip towards the small store, stopping briefly before I open the door.

  A bell dings as I remove my hood and walk through the narrow doorway.

  "Good morning, Mademoiselle!" The old man's eyes wrinkle deeply as he smiles at me, bowing his bald head at my frail figure.

  "Bonjour Monsieur," I nod, "where are your fiction books?"

  "Second left turn down that way." His french accent is faint, as  he directs me towards the back, so I give him a little bow of the head and walk off. 

  The sleeve of my gray hoodie brushes against the shelves as I trail my fingers along the rows of books.

  "Aha!" I say to myself, "Beauty and the Beast."

  I grab it and walk back towards the old man, setting the book gently on the counter.

  "A classic!" He smiles.

  "Yeah. I-- uh-- my dad actually read this to me when I was little... But he abandoned me for my two older step-sisters. Left me with my mom, the drug addict. So when foster care wasn't good to me, I rented this book from the nearest library." I smile back.

  "I'm so sorry," He reaches his hand out, "I am Maurice."

  "Belle." I take his hand shaking it kindly.

  "Very nice to meet you, Belle." He starts scanning my book, "If I may ask, what brings you to France?"

  "Uh-- Touring." I nod my head nervously.

  "All by yourself?"

  "No... I came with-- uh."

  "She came with me." Gaz walks in and plants a kiss directly on my lips, forcing his tongue through my lips, I do my best to not act surprised.

  "Oh, is this your boyfriend?" Maurice blushes.

  I open my mouth to reply, but Gaz interrupts me.

  "Fiance actually. Bonjour, I am Gaston." He shakes Maurice's hand stiffly.

  "Gaz--" I start.

  "Newly engaged." Gaston smiles, "Still getting used to the term."

  Gaz forces his arm around my waist lowering it till it rests just above my butt, causing me to just about lose it.

  "Well that'll be twel-- You know what? This one is on me, congratulations on your engagement." He smiles.

  "Thank you!" Gaston grabs the book and drages me out the door and around the corner, into an alley.

  I tear the book from his hand and hit him hard in the temple with it. He stumbles backward till he hits his back hard on athe alley wall.

  "What the Hell was that for?" Gaz asks rubbing his head.

  I kick him hard in the gut and shove elbow him right on his wind pipe holding it there.

  "Never kiss me again. Don't even touch me, or you will wind up dead in this alley. You understand?" He does his best to nod under the pressure of my elbow, I release.

  "Did you get anything?" He asks, out of breath.

  "Just what I could find." I reply, emptying out my pockets. When I shook Maurice's hands I also managed to grab his wallet, and half the tip jar.

  The others walk around the corner, laughing and carrying cups with over flowing beer.

  "What does the little bastard carry in his wallet?" Gaz asks reaching for it.

  "It's my steal, not yours." I pull it away, "Therefore it is mine."

  The gang stumbles towards us.

  "Sober up boys. We have a job, in the North woods." Gaston smacks Lefou on the head.

  I walk around the corner and past the book store long enough to watch Maurice load up his station wagon and drive off, a big grin on his face as he drives through the streets of France, not a care on his mind.