You can ask any Tom, Dick, or Stanley,
and they'll tell you whose team they prefer to be on...
●●●●●
"This is positively exquisite!" Gaston exclaimed. "What did you say it was called again?"
Morgan laughed as Gaston shoved another piece in to his mouth. "It's called pizza," she reminded him.
"And you said the Italians invented this?"
"I believe so," Morgan nodded. "I can Google it later though, to be sure."
Picking up another slice of the melted cheesy-goodness, Gaston almost groaned in pleasure. "If I said this pizza was amazing, would that be a good use for that word?"
"Yes," Morgan smiled proudly.
The large hunter had been picking up on modern technology and phrases at an impressive rate. He could even place an order for toilet paper now on Amazon Prime using her Echo Dot. If it was true Gaston was going to be here a while, then Morgan wanted his transition to be as smooth as possible.
The lessons also seemed to help keep things a little less hot and heavy between the two-- especially after the kiss they shared the other day.
Oh god, that kiss.
She swore she could still feel his warm, soft lips moving against her mouth. And what about his threat of not sleeping on the couch anymore? How the hell was she going to keep the huntesman out of her bed another night?
"Forget eggs, I want pizza from now on." Gaston mumbled around his mouthful of food.
"But there are so many other things you haven't even tried yet," Morgan chuckled. "Just wait until you try a double bacon cheeseburger, or fried chicken. Or what about prime rib and butter poached lobster?"
With another groan, Gaston pulled one of the cutest kissy-faces Morgan had ever seen. "I think I'm going to enjoying living in this century," he smirked. "And now that I'm here, I'm sure all of your dreams are about to come true."
Morgan snorted. What could he possibly know about her dreams. Besides that, he was just the cocky, misplaced villian from an alternate dimension. If that entire statement itself didn't sound incredibly fucked up--
Suddenly her phone started buzzing.
"Hello?" She answered, immediately recognizing the number that flashed across the screen.
After a long pause, Morgan smiled at Gaston who gave her a confused look in return. "Yes, that's right," she said.
Morgan slammed a hand down excitedly on the table. "Alright," she told the person on the other end. "We'll be right down."
*
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***
"I know you!"
Morgan froze in place as her friend behind the counter pointed to the fictional hunter standing beside her. How did the New York City Police officer know Gaston? Had he run into some trouble with the law? Then again, he was a rather large man walking around in a bright red trench coat-- perhaps he was just too hard to miss.
"I see you took my advice and kept outta the pumpkin patch," the officer smirked.
"You've met him before?" Morgan whispered as she and Gaston shared an amused glance towards one another.
"A rather cheeky fellow," Gaston nodded back. "He insulted my firearm the last time we spoke."
Morgan giggled as she turned her attention back to the short and stocky Officer Maddox. "When you called, you said you thought you had something that might belong to Gaston?"
"Yeah," Maddox rubbed the back of his neck as he recalled everything that had happened. "At our Guy's Poker Night, Tom mentioned you had some French dude staying at your place. When he gave a description, I realized it was the same guy I ran into."
Pulling out a large plastic bag, Maddox unzipped the evidence and set a camel colored leather sack on top of the reception desk.
Gaston gasped.
"I was almost positive I saw this on the belt next to your holster," Maddox said as he pushed the coin purse towards Gaston. "Go ahead," he nodded. "Take it. I can tell by the expression on your face that it's yours."
"But how?"
An eyebrow raised on Gaston's face as he studied the bag curiously. He had probably surmised that he would never see his money again, Morgan thought. She hoped this was a good surprise, perhaps even good enough to convince him to sleep on the couch just one more night--
"It was at the end of my shift, and a call came in about a 314." Maddox paused to briefly explain that this was an indecent exposure. "When we brought the perp in for questioning, this big ole' sack of coins slipped out of her coat pocket," the officer explained. "I immediately knew it was yours, but didn't know how to get a hold of you. I have to admit though, I was surprised to learn you were french. You certainly don't sound like Jean Claude Van-Dam."
"Oh god," Morgan cleared her throat loudly as she choked on her own spit. Quickly she slid the sack of coins over to Gaston. "You won't get in trouble for this, will you?" Morgan questioned the officer.
"Nah," Maddox waved her off with a flip of his hand. "Evidence goes missing all the time," he chuckled. "The next time you see Tomàs, you should ask him how he really got that Heuer watch he wears all the time anymore."
"You mean he took it from evidence?" Morgan frowned.
"Well actually, he took it in a poker match," Maddox clarified. "The son-of-a-bitch has one hell of a poker face, but he knew where it came from. Oh yeah, before I forget, I had the inspector general's office do a little research." The officer gestured towards the purse in Gaston's hand. "As it turns out, each one of those coins is worth about $1500, don't let anyone tell you different. You've got a bout $225k in your hand right there."
Morgan's eyes widened, her mouth falling open.
"Is that a lot?" Gaston asked.
"It's definitely enough to get you some new threads," Maddox snorted.
*
**
***
With a satisfied hum, Morgan pushed away the last few bites of her Delmonico Rib-Eye while Gaston finished up his surf and turf. After their brief conversation this afternoon with officer Maddox and currency exchange, Morgan and Gaston had embarked on a mission she had so fondly referred to as 'Project Gaston Runway'.
Morgan had approved every article of clothing they ended up walking out of the mall with, but her favorite was definitely the fitted navy blue dress shirt he currently wore as he sat opposite her in the restaurant.
"Why do you keep looking at me like that?" Gaston smirked as he placed his napkin down beside his empty plate.
"You just look so different." A blush crept up into Morgan's cheeks as she answered him.
"A good different, or--"
Morgan smiled before recalling how Gaston had held on to her hand as he got his hair cut. Much like how they did it on reality TV shows, they had gathered his long locks into a pony tail and chopped it all off at once. She wasn't sure if Gaston was going to cry or pummel the poor hairstylist, but after a quick squeeze of her fingers, he quickly recovered.
"A good different," she told him. "Definitely good."
Gaston nodded. "I can work with that."
As they headed out, Gaston paid the bill, gathered up the numerous shopping bags, held open the door, and took care to make sure Morgan was always on the inside as they walked down the street.
"I feel like a pack mule," he teased.
"Hey, I offered to help!" Morgan exclaimed.
"I know," Gaston smiled. "But I want to do this for you. It's just--" His face turned more somber as they continued down the street.
"You know you can tell me anything," Morgan encouraged.
With a sigh, Gaston nodded before smiling down at her.
"It's just for the first time in my life, I'm realizing how miserably I treated my only friend," he confessed. "LeFou would have done anything for me, and I knew it. Exploited it. Before I fell from that castle, Belle said something to me. She said that I was the real beast, the true monster in her story. And she was right."
Morgan pressed the button for the thirty-fourth floor, the silver doors sliding shut in front of them.
"She may have been right," Morgan agreed. "But that was a week ago."
Squeezing in around the bags from their shopping trip, Morgan leaned closer to place a hand on his cheek.
"No body can change over night," Morgan insisted. "But the simple fact that you're trying to, speaks volumes," she told him.
Gaston nodded sheepishly and she knew he didn't really agree. But at the moment, Morgan couldn't think of anything else to say that would convince him otherwise.
As they stepped in to her apartment, the blonde quickly began preparing the sleeper sofa for Gaston while he set all of the shopping bags down on the nearest table.
"What are you doing?" Gaston raised an eyebrow at Morgan as she slowly turned around.
"It's been a long day," she shrugged. "I thought you might be tired."
In a couple of long strides, Gaston had closed the distance between them.
"I told you I wasn't sleeping on that thing anymore," the hunter growled. "If you think it's so comfortable, then why don't you sleep on it tonight?"
"Excuse me?" Generally speaking, Morgan was usually a pretty laid back person, but the lack of gratitude was infuriating. "I'm pretty sure I took you in off the streets, out of the kindness of my heart. And now--"
Suddenly, Morgan found herself eating the rest of her words as those incredibly distracting lips of his pressed themselves against hers again. As his large hands roamed down the sides of her body, Morgan could feel a fire igniting inside of her.
But this didn't feel right.
The man was a fictional character for heaven's sake. He could literally disappear from her life at any given moment in time.
Then again, perhaps that wasn't such a bad thing.
After all, Morgan had always had a secret fantasy about no-strings-attached sex with a gorgeous stranger. And right now, Gaston seemed to be that perfect stranger-- fuck it, he really was a true paragon.
As he continued to distract her, Gaston effortlessly hauled Morgan up to his chest. Her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist. If it had been anyone else holding her, she might have worried they would drop her. This man certainly wasn't the massive, disproportionate cartoon character from the movie, but Gaston's grip was so strong, she felt utterly safe and secure in his arms.
Suddenly Gaston roughly tugged on her hair as he attempted to deepen their kiss. The man was completely lost to his carnal desires.
"I thought you were trying to start over?" Morgan hissed as she pulled away from his mouth. "Learn how to be a nice man?"
"I am." Gaston's voice had dropped an octave, his eyes hooded with lust. "But right now, I don't really think you want a nice man."
All thoughts of keeping this man out of her bed were entirely lost as he carried her down the hall towards her bedroom. With her legs wrapped tightly around him, a moan escaped her as Gaston rolled his hips. With an adjustment into one arm, the hunter used his free hand to place a finger against Morgan's lips.
"Careful, Love. You better not moan too loudly," he grated harshly against her ear. "Your neighbors seem particularly rude when it comes to loud noise."
*
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***
There was a smile on Morgan's lips the next morning as the sun light streamed down on her face. She was caught up in a daze, with her body curled next to the large hunter, his heavy arm draped possessively across her waist. It wasn't until the pounding on the front door grew louder that Morgan realized something was off.
Slipping out from underneath him, Morgan quickly threw on a flowered robe and headed out to the front of her apartment. Who on earth could possibly need her this early on a Sunday morning, she wondered. Looking through the peep hole, Morgan sighed before throwing open the door.
"I think I found something that belongs to your friend," Tom snapped.