A/N: A peice I did whilst obsessed with Hunchback of Notre Dame. Mostly Clopin. It is not a one-shot, and I have more written, but I thought I'd see how people reacted to the OCness first. On that note, when I wrote this, I hadn't seen Beauty and the Beast in years, since I was quite small, and was working Belle's character from memory, so no flames. Also (I'm almost done, really) this is alternate universe, which means that Belle will end up staying in Paris with our Gypsy instead of goin to hang out with Mr. Beast and all the other 'Little People.'

There she was again. That girl with the book. He'd watched her. It was the same, every day; from her house out across the river, she'd come into town. Then, to the bakery, get the day's bread. To the grocer and the butcher, pick up supper. And then the bookstore. She stopped a few minutes in front of his little caravan to listen to his stories and give the underfed children a loaf of bread or an apple, whatever she could spare. Once or twice, when he returned from finding himself something to eat, there would be a coin or two tucked neatly away on the shelf that was his stage, and, sure enough, there would be the girl, reading her way toward the book shop.

She paused, as usual, across the street from him, watching as he conversed with his puppets, and generally made a fool of himself. He could see, just looking at her, that she had a spot of gypsy blood in her. Not much. Her grandmother, perhaps. But there it was.

She waited for his tirade to come to an end, and then approached, handing a loaf of fresh bread to one of the children, and then making her way up to his window.

"You do good things for those little brats." He said, nodding to the kids, who were carefully splitting the loaf into pieces for each of them.

"They need it. We all need a little brightness in our day." Her voice was lilting, positively musical, like the bells of Notre Dame. "That's why I want to thank you. You give them something to look forward to, day after day. It's a great thing you do." She reached into the pocket of her apron, and extracted two gold coins, which she placed on the window ledge.

"Mademoiselle, I cannot take this from you…" He began.

She laughed. Bells again. "If you want to give it back you'll have to catch me." And with that she darted off into the crowd, positively dancing her way between the people.

She was disappointed to see the gypsy man missing from his caravan the following morning. She continued on to the book shop, and positively beamed at the sight of the young man leaning against the wall.

"Good morning." She grinned.

He reached out to tap her shoulder, and smirked. "I caught you."

She laughed. "So you did. The name's Belle, by the way."

"Clopin. Gypsy, wanderer, puppeteer, at your service." He bowed dramatically, his dark hair nearly brushing the ground.

"How did you know I'd come here?"

"I see things."

"You watched me." It wasn't a question.

"A bit perhaps. But only so I could return these." He held out the two gold pieces from the day before. Her laughter danced again through the air.

"I don't need it back, Clopin. Really, keep it. Use it for your family. My father and I have too much already."

"Well, thank you, mademoiselle." He bowed again. "I hope I can return the favor, one day. Now, if you'll excuse me," He glanced back toward his caravan, "I do believe the crowds have gathered." And with that he slipped off toward the square.

Belle entered the book shop, and found the man who owned it, Peter, watching her warily.

"Something wrong?" She asked, handing him the book she'd taken the day before.

"You'll stay away from gypsies if you know what's good for you. Especially that one. They're con men and tricksters, and honor means nothing."

She just smiled, and made her way over to the shelf to pick up a book at random. "I think you might be wrong. About that honor bit, anyway."

"Maybe I am, but the Court thinks the same way. And you know who that is, don't you?"

"Not really."

"They say he's the king of the gypsies, here in Paris. Every one of them answers to him in the end. If you're going to hang around with gypsies, as far as the law is concerned, he's the last one to get mixed up with."

"He's… But he's no older than I am! He's barely more than a boy."

"I don't make the politics. I just report them. And he's the one they answer to."

"Well, thank you for the warning. I think, though, I'll manage alright."

"When Frollo comes after you, don't say I didn't warn you."

She nodded, placed a coin on the table, and stepped back outside.

A/N: REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW! PLEASE! Also, right now I'm bored out of my mind, so if you have a story request, please message me.