Disclaimer: "Beauty and the Beast" and the character Pascal andall the rest belong to Republic Pictures. No infringement isintended. Max and her ilk belong to me. That and all the rest of thelegal stuff. 'Nuff said.

Leave a Light on For Me

by Kayla Rigney

There was only one chair in the pipe chamber,so Max kicked off her shoes and curled up in Pascal's lap. This madeit infinitely easier to share their single cup of tea.

"How's your day?" Max asked.

"Great now," the pipemaster replied, laughing.Her very presence lightened his mood. "And yours?"

Max stretched her legs out over the arm of thechair and pointed her toes. "Oh, the usual," she said. "I was forcedto attend a very unnecessary meeting. After four hours of being toldwhy it's not professional to have a cement puma sitting on my desk, Iannounced I didn't have time to dance the masochism tango and walkedout. This did not go over well."

Pascal handed her the tea and eased his armsaround her waist. "Maxine," he said, with great mock seriousness."You promised do that particular dance only with me."

"I know; but it was either that or declare thatmen invented shoes to keep me from thinking about politics," shereplied. "Which just didn't apply under thecircumstances."

"I see your point." He laughed easily. Herhumor was so like his.

"Besides, Cineplex Odious is an Italiancement puma," she went on. "He looks exactly like the ones in ValLewton's original Cat People."

"And that makes all the difference," Pascalagreed.

Max gave him a devastating smile. "You have noidea what I'm talking about, do you?"

He shook his head. "Nonewhatsoever."

"It doesn't matter," she said and rewarded himwith warm, cascading laughter.

He let his hand stray to her hair. Her curlswere damp; she'd showered before coming to see him. The pipemasterfound this concept both comforting and arousing at the sametime.

"I'm so glad you're here," he said,softly.

"Have some tea, hobbit," she said, with equalsoftness. "It's a special blend called Star of Persia."

Max held the cup to his lips and he took a sip.This tea was very sweet and very good. It warmed him in the samegentle way that she did. Pascal was infinitely grateful for both thetea and the woman. He had just enough time for this one short breakaway from his work; and he silently hoped that nothing wouldinterrupt them.

"The pipes are quiet tonight," Max said,settling in to his arms.

"Yes, they are," Pascal replied.

"I kind of like it."

"So do I."

Together, they sat quietly drinking tea andlistening to the almost imperceptible song of the pipes. Then, Maxbegan whispering translations of messages that came down the line.Pascal was amazed that she not only caught on but also enjoyedencoding and decoding. Most tunnel dwellers learned only the basics.Not Max. She had to know it all. He held her closer and kissedthe top of her head. The tea was almost gone. He'd have to return towork soon.

"Pascal, may I ask you something?"

"Of course," the pipemaster replied. He wasvery content. Having Max with him in the pipe chamber completedhim.

"What do you call yourself?" It was a funnyquestion, but Max was very serious. He knew better than tolaugh.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"I mean, when you talk to yourself," shereplied. "When I talk to myself, I call myself Max," she went on. "Orwhen I really screw up, Maxine Louise. What do you callyourself?"

"Pascal, I guess," he said. "I really haven'tgiven it much thought."

"Hmmm," said Max.

"What do you mean, hmmm?"

Max smiled that smile. "I mean Pascalisn't your given name," she replied. "It's your family name. It'swhat you do." She looked crosswise at him from under hereyelashes. "Come to think of it, I have no clue what your nameactually is."

"Pascal," he said, laughing.

"Oh, yeah, right," Max replied. "You expect meto believe your name is Pascal Pascal. Not even your parentswould be so deliberately cruel."

The pipemaster didn't know what to say. Hehonestly hadn't thought of himself as anything but Pascal for twentyyears. Before that, he was usually called Pascal the Younger. Onlyhis mother and Vincent had ever called him by his real name. Itsounded faraway and strange. "It's Benjamin," he said, softly. "Myname is Ben."

"Ben," Max said, as if trying it out. "It suitsyou."

"You think?" Pascal asked.

She nodded and looked into his eyes. "I likeit," she replied. "It's direct and strong."

"Is that how you see me?" he asked. Before Max,he pictured himself as insignificant and rather ugly.

Max smiled. "Well, mostly, I see you asbeautiful," she told him. "But you never believe me. So I opted fordirect and strong." She laughed wryly. "Kind of on the off chanceyou'd be able to accept that."

"I believe you," he said, although he didn't.Not yet.

"Of course, you do, hobbit," Max said. "Andpugs are flying out my ears."

"Don't you mean pigs?"

"No, I do not. I mean pugs." She rolledher eyes. "Why on earth would pigs fly? That makes nosense."

Pascal thought that it made even less sense forpug dogs to fly and told her so.

Max gestured to the pipes dramatically. "Why isit the man can see the inherent inanity of flying pugs, but he can'taccept his own worth to me?" She leaned over nearly backwardand pressed her hand to her forehead.

Pascal balanced the teacup on her flat stomach."Are you finished yet?" he asked quietly. He resisted the impulse tolean over and kiss her neck.

"Almost," Max replied. Her face nearly as redas her hair. "I was considering ending with a good flail," she said."But as you seem to be using me for a coaster, I guess that's out ofthe question." For some reason, this struck her as being hystericallyfunny, and she laughed so hard Pascal had to rescue theteacup.

"Max, please sit up before you fall on yourhead."

With a fluid dancer's grace, she rightedherself and smiled merrily into Pascal's eyes. "I really dothink you're beautiful, Benjamin Pascal," she said, tears oflaughter still streaming down her face. "And strong anddirect, too." Her voice was very serious and true.

Using only her words, she warms me, Pascalthought. "I believe you," he said.

She raised her eyebrows.

"I believe you," he said again. He meantit with every fiber of his small body.

Max gave him a deep, open grin.

"Don't even look at me like that,"Pascal told her. "The cup's empty. I have to go back to worknow."

She gave him a slow, soft kiss anyway. She wasstill smiling when she pulled away and sang:

Oh, no you didn't mean that!

She said I love the way youthink

But I hate the way you act.

'Cause I always have to steal my kisses fromyou

I always have to steal my kisses fromyou.

Pascal kissed the tip of her nose and said:"Later, Max." Later, I will kiss you properly, he thought. Later, Iwill give myself to you.

Max gave him a calculated and very sexy pout;but she slid off of his lap and stood with her handoutstretched.

The pipemaster took her hand and pulled himselfto his feet. "Will you stay until I finish my shift?" he asked,quietly.

Max gave him a lingering hug. "That's my plan,"she replied, with her mouth close to his ear.

Pascal reluctantly left her embrace and wentback to the pipes. Before he settled in to his routine, he turned andlooked at her.

Max was curled up in the chair, watching him,smiling. From her expression, he knew that the pile of books at herfeet would remain untouched.

"Max?"

"Yes?"

The pipemaster rocked a little on the balls ofhis feet. "I've thought about it," he said. "And I mostly call myselfPascal."

She nodded.

"But when I've done something particularly wellor something makes me smile, I call myself Hobbit." Pascal could feelhis blush rising above his collar. "It just sounds so nice when yousay it."

"I'm glad," Max said. She seemed to glow frominside. Her smile was so very real.

My God, Pascal thought. She's the light at theend of the tunnel.

He turned from her then and tried to focus onthe job at hand. He could not. There was something more he had tosay. "You make me feel strong and direct and beautiful."

"I believe you," she said, verysoftly.

Pascal didn't have to see Max to know she wassmiling. He hoped that later, when they were alone, she'd call himBen.