A/N: LOL Been a while since I wrote this. It's my get-away story, if you've noticed. Great to write when you're in a sour mood. However, I wasn't really so it took a little while to get my... uh... subtle humor right. :p LOL Well enjoy my update, which FINALLY shows up.

Disclaimer: I do not own Sailor Moon, or Beauty and the Beast. This story is merely a crossover I thought would be interesting to write.

Summery: Prince Darien is the beast of all beasts, cursed because of his father's doings, and must find love by his 21st birthday to break it. Serena is an ugly teenager who the village rely on to live because of her own curse, also linked to the Royal family. The two hate eachother with a great passion, but are bound by the curse and similar lifestyles, and find comfort in an understanding presence.

Beastly Enchantments

Chapter 3:

Serena woke up bright and early, and set the plan to motion. She wrote the note in careful handwriting, going over it three times for approval. Then, she went and put it under Ray's door, who seemed to still – thankfully – be sleeping.

Next, she slipped back into her room and wrote another note.

As she was about to slip it under the Beast's door, asking him to meet her at his garden, he opened the door and bonked her in the head.

She grunted as she stood up, wincing. "Oh, gee, thanks, highness."

"Sorry, witch, I didn't see you there."

She rubbed her head, feeling a bump rising up. It stung to the touch, and Serena grunted again and handed him the note.

He pocketed it and gently, surprisingly, lifted her chin up to look at him and examine the wound. "W-what are you doing?"

"Shh." Carefully, he ran his finger along the skin, careful with his claws, and then looked into her eyes. "How's your vision?"

"F-fine," she gulped. He was so close; his smell invaded her, surprisingly masculine. Sharp and dizzy-making all at once.

"I'm sorry," he said, quietly, seeming to mean it.

Again, she gulped, the following silence more than she could bare.

Nonono, she couldn't deal with him like this. Arguing with the Beast was another thing that she could deal with. But when was the last time someone had apologized to her for tripping her or hitting her in the head, or anything for that matter? And for the Beast, the scum of all scum, to do it surprised her.

He was the monster, after all… inside and out. He'd proved it… more than once.

She turned away from him and ignored the tug at her heart that said not to. She was helping him… she was a witch to him. Of course, he'd be nice to her. She was his last chance to break his spell…

And her own….

Just because she missed someone being nice to her was no reason to get all mushy. She was fine by herself, she was, and this meant nothing. She'd still be rude to him, still fight the law every chance she got, and he'd still be the monster that did awful things and got away with it. Besides, she was reading into it too long and too much. What was wrong with her?

He cleared his throat, seeming to sense her uneasiness. "Right then, very well. We'll meet in the garden in an hour's time. See you then."

"Right," she nodded. "See you then."

…

He shouldn't have tried to help her. She was repulsed by his claws, his appearance, and him touching her was probably the worst thing she could endure.

He'd been foolish, all these years, to study the ways of the Healers. Most people would rather die than be touched by the Beast. He knew it, but still, foolishly, like he mentioned before, he hoped.

The spell would be lifted. He could be ugly underneath the ugly. Of course, he wouldn't be as ugly, which was a definite improvement, but still he expected some kind of dashing result.

He sighed. The witch was like the rest of them. He had hoped, no, he'd believed for a moment that she was different. She saw the world for what it truly was, and would ignore his beastly appearance.

He laughed darkly.

Of course not. She may see what is on the inside, and might even believe it was more important, but for God's sake, it wasn't her fault she saw this!

He will make women weep, children screech. He would make the bravest of men want to claw their own eyes out.

That was what the Goddess Dike had bestowed upon him.

Just forget it, he told himself, and focus on the plan. The only person you should care about right now is Ray, and what she thinks of you. Not the witch. The witch was just a small pawn in your plan that would be gone as soon as the spell was lifted.

If it was lifted, you mean…

No! It would be lifted! He would be beautiful!

He had to be…

…

She hadn't bothered with breakfast. Instead, she gathered up the materials she'd need, ordered a picnic to be made for lunch, and went to the garden with her book.

Relax, she told herself. Relax and everything will go as you like.

But she couldn't relax, and even the book she'd loved since the first time she read it wouldn't soothe her.

She brushed her hair out of her face, and tilted her head up to the sun. It was warm, calming, but not calming enough to smooth over the nerves.

Alright, calm, she thought, breathing deep. Calm and you will win.

Ten minutes into it and she growled in frustration. Ever since he'd looked at her like that, she couldn't get those eyes out of her mind, or that smell out of her nose. She couldn't stop the erratic beating of her heart, or the heat all over her body. Those eyes… they were so human… so… vulnerable. Could it really be that she didn't know him?

She wanted to cry, and beat at him. Why had he been so gentle when no one else had been?

It was easier to hate someone when you haven't seen them kind, she decided. And she still hated him, she assured herself.

Now that she had seen him kind, though, she couldn't get the thought that the Prince was the way he was as a means to deal out of her head. Just like she hid behind her books, he hid behind his tongue.

It was dangerous to think like this, she knew. She had never been in love, so she did not know what it took to fall in love.

She couldn't afford it. Not for a minute.

And what was she thinking? Loving the beast? Who could love him! And let's just say she did. If she fell in love with him, even by chance, she would never be able to leave him. She wouldn't be able to stay with him, either, as he'd be with Ray.

But would Ray care for him, truly?

It's you job to find out, she reminded herself. It's your job to make sure she does. And besides, love? Where had that come from? This wasn't a novel, and things like that didn't happen. So he'd hit her in the head and tried to make sure she wasn't going to die from some brain explosion or something… so what? She was overthinking it to the extreme. He was probably worried for his own life because the end of hers meant the end of his.

The only reason she's helping him is because she can profit from it, too; in the biggest way possible, no less. She'll be wealthy enough to afford luxuries, and never work again.

She drew a circle in the dirt and stuck a branch in the middle with surprising force.

Almost time to meet the Prince.

The Beast, she reminded herself. The ugly on the inside and out Beast.

She rubbed her head where the bump was again, seeing his deep blue eyes once more, and growled loud.

…

"Whoa!" he cried, holding his arms up. "Careful who you growl at, Witch."

She jumped from where she was sitting, and almost lost her balance and fell once more, but caught herself in time.

"Beast… Why are you here?"

"You said to meet you at-"

"Yes, yes, I know. I mean why in this garden? I meant to meet at your garden."

"Well… this was a short cut from where I was. It would be foolish to walk to another wing of the castle when I could have just gone through here."

She nodded, but didn't look very happy about it. "Yes, very well. After you, highness." She didn't seem to want to talk at all, it seemed. He was more than happy to oblige.

"Witches first."

She frowned again and grabbed the stick she had obviously used to tell time and pulled it out, then walked past him to where she knew his garden was.

"So while we've still got time, would you mind sharing your plan?"

The witch seemed to clutch her stick harder, which made him grin foolishly. Seeing her riled up was a funny sight, indeed. Why was she mad, again? She had her freedom from the guards… Maybe the hit at her head soiled her mood.

"Well, I was thinking plastic surgery but realized no amount of plastic surgery would help this cause."

He grimaced. As if he didn't know. "I will ignore that."

"So I decided on a picnic as the next best thing. Are you hungry?"

"Not particularly," he said.

"Perfect."

He did a double take. "Pardon?"

"No offense… well… maybe some offense… but you eat like an animal."

He shrugged. "Don't exactly have the hands for utensils, now, do I?"

She turned on her heel and he almost bumped into her. "Doesn't matter. The point is: You will have a picnic, eat nothing, and say everything I tell you to."

"I look like an animal, I don't hear like one."

"You don't need to. That's what an earpiece is for."

The witch held out a small device, and he peered down at it. "I see."

"No need to thank me. It was an obvious plan. I thought of it in a second."

"I'm sure you did."

She dropped it into his palm and turned continued to walk down the road.

"That's it?" he asked, surprised.

"Yes. Unless you've thought of something better, go with it."

But he hadn't, and it wasn't the worst plan. "So you invited her, right?"

"Yup."

"When will she be arriving?"

"Soon, which is why we need to hurry up. You do know how to use utensils, right?"

He made a face at her. "Hahaha, yes, the Beast knows how to use a fork."

"Does he know how to place it into his mouth without making a mess?"

Darien glared at her. This wench was a piece of work. But she was right. "Why do I need to know how to use it if I'm not going to be eating?"

She poked him in the chest with the stick. "In case you need to."

…

As it turned out, it was impossible to teach him how to use a fork. But she doubted that had anything to do with the spell – just his arrogance and refusal to try hard.

"This isn't working!"

"Well, maybe you need to try harder."

"I am trying!"

"No, you're yelling!"

"No you're yelling!"

"Stop being a child!"

"Me? What about you?"

"What about me?"

"You-"

"Stop!" she huffed, holding up her hand. "This isn't helping! We have only a few minutes left and she could show up any minute. Forget the fork! Just. Don't. Eat. Anything."

He growled deep in his throat, but threw the fork down. "Fine."

"I'm going to climb up this tree," she pointed up at the tree behind him. "Don't respond to anything I say. If you must, then scratch your nose for yes and your ear for no. Oh, and make her sit here so that I can see her expression."

He grunted - which she took as a yes - and quickly climbed the tree. Five minutes later, she heard a rustling and then a squeak of the door, and in came a fragile girl about her age, with fair skin and black hair. She was beautiful, so Serena couldn't really blame the prince for falling for her, as much as she'd like to. There wasn't really anything striking about her, though. She was a plain looking girl with plain looking clothes. It took people a while to realize that, though, because when you looked at her, all you saw was enchanting. She couldn't quite put a finger on it, but there was something about this girl that was beautiful that had nothing to do with the way she looked.

"Say hello," she whispered urgently into the little microphone she had in her hands.

"Hello," he grumbled. The girl jumped a foot and then some, shrieking.

"I-I'm sorry, I'm not-" he got up, and the girl looked ready to faint. She was craning her head up, pale, looking at him with giant eyes. He was the lumbering monster from all her nightmares, after all.

"Sit back down, you big oaf. You're getting right in her face and she's going to be intimidated by that."

He flopped down instantly, making the ground shake a little. Serena almost lost her footing on the tree branch. "Gently! Quick, ask her if she's thirsty. Tell her you wanted to welcome her from her voyage with this feast."

He did, but the girl looked as terrified as ever, and didn't respond.

"Compliment her."

"Y-you're really- I-I mean you've got-that is to say-"

"Spit it out, you ogre!"

"-pretty-uh-elbows."

She hit her forehead with her hand, wanting it to bash her whole skull out so she wouldn't have to remember this moment. Ever. "Clever," she said dryly. "Because women like having their pretty elbows noticed."

He began to growl, but then stopped himself. "So would you like to sit down?"

The girl began to fidget. "When I was asked to meet the prince, I never thought he was- uh- well-"

"An ugly wart-faced demon king from the underworld who was dragged through an ocean of lava and then eaten by a dragon, spit out after going through its intestines and then rolled over by all of the dogs of this earth?" Serena supplied helpfully. To her surprise, Darien repeated everything word-for-word, and Ray began laughing.

"Well, no, not as dramatic as that, but I thought he'd be… you know… shorter?"

"Well, well, look at that. She loves my- I mean your- humour. Ask her to sit before you do anything stupid. And don't forget to say please."

Things were looking up. Maybe someone could love a beast.

TBC

A/N: There you have it. Review to tell me your thoughts. I love hearing from all of you!