Adam stood on the West Wing balcony, with his elbows resting on the railing, looking out over the castle grounds. Objectively, he thought, it was a beautiful day. The sky was clear, the sun was warm on his skin, and there was only the barest hint of a breeze. The flowers were blooming in beds that had long been neglected, and the laughter of the castle children could be heard ringing through the gardens as they chased Sultan along the winding paths.

But Adam had learned a long time ago that appearances only told part of the story. And on this particular day, he had much more to be thankful for than the pleasant weather. Mere hours ago, he had been bleeding out on this very balcony, the life draining rapidly from his furry, over-large body, while his friends were being attacked by an angry mob. Things had looked bleaker than bleak. But now? They were not only alive, but whole, and human.

Adam extended an arm out in front of his face and turned his hand first palm up and then down, wondering if the others got as giddy as he did at the sights of their wiggling fingers. Belle had laughed when she had caught him doing it that morning, but he knew she hadn't been making fun because she had followed it up by kissing him soundly, just before hurrying off to check on her father. She had promised to return after seeing her father, which, now that Adam thought about it, had been well over an hour ago.

And just as he was thinking that, there was a knock on the door to his chambers. "Come in, Belle," he said, turning away from the balcony.

But as the door swung open into the room, it was not Belle, but Mrs. Potts, who was revealed to be standing in the corridor. "I'm sorry to disappoint you, Master," she said, smiling kindly as she pushed a trolley into the room. "But it's only me."

"I'm not disappointed," Adam replied truthfully, hardly able to suppress his own smile as he took in Mrs. Potts's mop of grey curls, twinkling blue eyes, and dimpled cheeks. Her friendly face was one that, until recently, he had believed he would never see again - and he had never thought that he would feel such joy in being proven wrong about something.

"I thought you might like a spot of tea. Freshly brewed. I even brought an extra cup just in case Belle does join you."

"Thank you, Mrs. Potts," said Adam, his gaze settling on the tea service sitting on top of the trolley. Steam was billowing softly from the spout of a lovely but unfamiliar porcelain teapot that was adorned with delicate blue flowers. Two matching teacups sat, unmoving, on saucers next to it. It was almost disconcerting, Adam realized, not to see three pair of eyes blinking back at him from the tray. "That was very thoughtful of - " He broke off suddenly as Mrs. Potts rolled the trolley to a stop beside him, and she lifted the lid from a small, round platter. Resting on the platter was a little cake: two layers of thick, golden sponge sandwiching a generous amount of jam and cream. It was nothing terribly fancy, and yet the sight of it triggered a strong, sudden wave of nostalgia. "You remembered," he exhaled in a voice very close to a whisper.

"Of course I remembered, love," said Mrs, Potts, as though slightly amused by the suggestion that she might somehow forget his birthday.

Adam smiled, touched, as he eyed the cake, and he could already feel his mouth beginning to water. "It looks just like the ones you used to make for me every year."

"Hopefully it tastes like them too. I had to make do with what I could find in the pantries." Mrs. Potts pursed her lips ruefully.

"Oh." Adam blinked, feeling a surge of panic rise up as it occurred to him that, for the first time in a decade, there was now an entire castle's worth of people - maids, guards, stablehands, and other assorted other household staff - to feed. "I suppose we'll have to do something about that."

"We have enough of the staples," Mrs. Potts said reassuringly. "But Cogsworth has also sent a few of the men into town for some more supplies. And believe me," she went on, as she moved the tray from the trolley to a little table near the wall, "he had no shortage of volunteers for that job."

Adam laughed. He had no trouble imagining how eager those volunteers must have been to finally get out of the castle. "Oh, I believe you." His shoulders sagged in relief though as he looked once more toward the cake.

"Well then, don't just stare at it," Mrs. Potts admonished him, making shooing motions with her hands until he sank, obligingly, into one of the chairs next to the table. She slid the cake toward him. "Tuck in!"

"Will you join me?" Adam asked, nodding toward the spare teacup and saucer.

"Oh, thank you, but no. I only brought those in for Belle."

"I know. But Belle's not here, and...and it's really good just to see you."

Mrs. Potts's already motherly expression softened in understanding. "Well...in that case, I'd be delighted," she said, and she pulled up the chair across from him.

Satisfied, Adam reached for one of the forks and dug eagerly into the cake. He closed his eyes and groaned in happiness as the buttery cake and sweet cream melted in his mouth.

"It's good then?" Mrs. Potts inquired teasingly, as she poured them both some tea.

"It's even better than I remember. I still can't believe you remembered," Adam marveled, smiling fondly at Mrs. Potts as he went for another forkful of cake.

Mrs. Potts smiled back at him. "How could I forget? I was there at your mother's bedside when she brought you into this world." Her gaze drifted toward the open double doors, and the clear April afternoon that blazed beyond the balcony. She placed her teacup on its saucer, and Adam knew he didn't imagine the extra care she took in setting it down. "That day couldn't have been more different than today," Mrs. Potts mused quietly. "It was cold, and blustery. There was even a little bit of late-season snow. I remember listening to the wind howl and thinking I'd never heard it sound so loud. And then the midwife delivered you, and suddenly the wind seemed like a whisper by comparison."

Adam laughed. "It sounds like I was a handful even then."

"You did make quite an entrance," Mrs. Potts acknowledged. "But everyone agreed that they'd never seen a more beautiful baby. You were chubby and pink with soft little wisps of blond hair and these stormy blue eyes. Your father was fond of saying that you looked just like a little angel, but you screamed like the devil. Your mother just insisted you were perfect."

"And who was right?"

"They both were." Adam's eyes met Mrs. Potts's, and they both chuckled. "I remember that afternoon as clearly as I remember the births of my own children. And I've remembered every single one of your birthdays since then...including the ones that even you forgot."

Adam's smile faded, and he looked away guiltily. "I...I never actually forgot any of them either," he admitted. "I just...I just didn't think that they were occasions worth celebrating. Not when I was the one who got us all into this...mess. And not when each one meant I had one less year to undo the mess." He closed his eyes and let out a breath. "If there's one good thing about my parents' passing, it's that they didn't live to see me turn into that."

"They would have loved you regardless," Mrs. Potts said softly.

"Perhaps," said Adam. "But I can't help but feel that I would have disappointed them. They were such good people. And because I was so...well...not good, I almost spent the rest of my life as a monster. And you - you almost spent the rest of your life as a teapot, and your grandson as a cup. Do you realize how close we came to being stuck like that forever?"

He looked up hesitantly when Mrs. Potts placed a gentle hand on his cheek. "But we didn't. We're human again, all of us. And we've come a long way since that night ten years ago. But there's no one who that's more true of than you. You were just a lonely, confused child back then, but your parents would be so proud of the fine young man you've grown up to be."

Adam could feel a lump forming in his throat, and he quickly swallowed it back. "Do you honestly think so?"

"I do, with all of my heart. You've proven yourself to be kind, and dependable, and unselfish, just like they were. You've learned to put others first, even when it means giving up the thing that you want most. You've earned the loyalty and respect of everyone in this castle. And the love of a truly wonderful girl."

A tentative smile crept across Adam's face. "Well, at least we know that last part is true," he said jokingly, though he couldn't help but feel deeply moved by her words of praise.

"It's all true. And if that's not enough of a reason to start celebrating again, then I don't know what is." As though to prove her point, she gave the cake another little nudge in his direction.

"You know, Mrs. Potts," said Adam, nodding to himself after a beat of silence, "I think you may be right."

"Of course I'm right," she said matter-of-factly, while stirring a lump of sugar into her tea. Then she set her spoon down on the tray and looked up at him seriously. "Oh, and by the way, Adam?"

"Yes?"

Mrs. Potts smiled and raised her cup in a toast. "Happy birthday, dear."

Happy (belated) birthday to the 1991 release of Beauty and the Beast! And Happy Thanksgiving to those of you who celebrate it!