Disclaimer: I do not own Once Upon a Time or any of the characters. It belongs to ABC.

A/N: So, I got this strange little idea the other day and I decided to write it down. It's a humorous little one-shot about Gaston's POV of being turned into a rose. Mainly for my entertainment and I hope for your entertainment as well. Enjoy.

A Rose By Any Other Name

Gaston's life as he knew it ended precisely thirty seconds after he knocked on the door of the beast's castle. He counted.

Before that, he'd been a handsome, highly respected nobleman betrothed to Belle. It was to be a marvelous wedding on the castle grounds, with Gaston clothed in that new black and silver attire he'd bought and Belle being the most exquisite bride a man could hope for. There was even going to be horses and a carriage to carry them off for their honeymoon.

Despite that wretched deal that protected their town from the Ogre War—or perhaps because of it—he'd done the noble thing and set out on a valiant quest to rescue his beloved fiancée from the clutches of that foul monster. Who knew what unspeakable tortures and defiling he was doing in that castle. Stripping her innocence, that's what he was doing. If anything was getting stripped off Belle, it would happen on their wedding night after their thrilling carriage ride.

So he'd charged up that mountain—though he had to stop twice to ask for directions—and he'd knocked on that door with his sword at the ready and—

In a puff of nauseating purple smoke, the world dimmed, twisted, and turned on its head. His body did strange things, sticking out at odd angles. Ooh, ow…I'm pretty sure my spine isn't supposed to bend that way! His stomach flattened, his face scrunched up. It felt like someone had stuffed him in a tiny tube and…and…Where have my feet and arms gone? Did they fall off? Oh, this is going to make battling with a sword difficult.

The smoke cleared and faded and the dealmaker was miles above him, smirking as if privy to some disgusting private joke. His mind was a dirty one, Gaston could tell. That giggle explained it all.

What have you done to me, you foul beast? And why is my voice not working? Am I mute? And…are those leaves sticking out of my body? Gods, you've turned me into a rose! This is downright embarrassing! As one of Sir Maurice's kingdom, I demand to be changed back at once!

The beast did no such thing. Instead, murky golden irises shining in the afternoon sun, he tilted his lanky-haired head this way and that, admiring his handiwork. Gaston might as well be a portrait on display.

I'll have you know this setback will not prevent me from royally kicking your arse! I stand for the virtue of love, dammit—something your revolting mind cannot comprehend! Belle is my fiancée, not yours and…hey! Hey! Put me down! I do not take kindly to being man-handled this way!

Mid-rant, the beast had bent forward at the waist and snatched him up with two black-nailed golden fingers and twirled the long stem before enclosing himself safely in his dark castle once more. The thing was incorrigible. As pretentious as a spoiled child.

Ugh, would you stop spinning me? I'm getting dizzy! I'm…I'll…oh, I wish I hadn't eaten that last strawberry tart. I hope my thorns prick your slimy fingers!

"Who was that?"

It was blessed music to his ears! Or at least the spot where his ears would normally be. Belle! She was alive and safe, if not counting her unfortunate imprisonment. Belle! Oh, am I ever happy to see you! Fret not, for I shall end this beast's life and we shall abscond in our carriage! But, first…tell this oaf to release me!

"Just an old woman selling flowers," the beast replied casually in an almost soft tone. That transformation must have seriously addled his brain and corroded his hearing. Even worse, he was manipulating Belle with his evil ways!

A-ha! See there! You are a liar! I knew it! Did I honestly look like a beggar woman to you?

And he was moving again, being held out to Belle in offering. This monster had the gall to offer Belle a rose? As if she would ever fall for a petty trick after reading those ridiculous books. Wait, why was she smiling so sweetly? She never looked at him that way and he was her fiancé! And…she was accepting the rose? Curtsying? Smiling?

What in gods is going on? Belle should be shrieking in terror and ducking for cover, not accepting roses! Who are you, my dear, and what have you done with Belle? Oh, no…has he put some kind of spell on you? Just look on the bright side, Gaston: you're in Belle's care now. There's no chance that anything bad will happen.

Belle swiftly carried him off toward a glass cabinet while the beast took his rightful place at the head of the table. Just look at how his odd, devilish eyes followed Belle's every move. Disgusting.

Those eyes of yours better stay on the back of her head. If they drop any lower, I swear, I will blind you! I hope she at least had the sense to put itching powder in your clothing. It'd serve you right.

Oh, gods, now the beast was talking. He'd cover his ears, except he didn't have any arms to do it. Just a pathetic stem and a couple of leaves that didn't budge no matter his brainpower.

"You had a life, Belle. Before…this. Friends, family. What made you choose to come here with me?"

I cannot believe you are asking such a ridiculous question. Let's see, there was the part about the note and the 'help, help' and…oh, yes. The ogres attacking our kingdom. You just carted her away for your selfish purposes. Why else would she have left her father and her beloved fiancé?

"Heroism. Sacrifice," Belle answered simply. Huh? "There aren't a lot of opportunities for women in this land to…to show what they can do."

Belle, I've explained this to you before. It's rather straightforward. Girl is born, girl becomes woman, woman meets man, woman marries man, woman bears children, woman dies. What else is there to do?

It must be all those books she'd pored over. They filled her head with nonsense. Ah, now she was taking down a vase from the shelf. Wait…a vase? No, this is not how it is supposed to be! I am a man, not a…a…flower! Oh, I hope this story never gets around to my drinking friends back home.

"To see the world, to be heroes," Belle continued enthusiastically. "So, when you arrived, that was my chance. I always wanted to be brave. I figured: do the brave thing, and bravery would follow." Complete…utter…nonsense. Belle, you have never mentioned this to me before! Or…was that when I was admiring myself in the mirror?

Belle…Belle, what are you doing with those scissors? No, hold on! Belle! Not down there….oh, holy mother of beanstalks! Ahhhhh! I think…oh, I needed those! Oh, the pain…it burns…how will you ever bear children now? I think…passing out…the world is dimming…

"And what about your, uh, betrothed?"

That beast had some nerve to mention his name after what he'd done! Gaston could bet he was laughing inside, probably mocking him that he still had all his family jewels. Yes, Belle, your betrothed who is currently in pain and missing a vital organ. But do take your lovely time and chat. No pressure.

To his horror, Belle shrugged as she placed his deformed body in the vase for humiliating display and perched on the top of the table like a commoner. What sort of ideas had that monster put in her head? Next she'd be wandering the castle without a corset.

"It was an arranged marriage. Honestly, I never really cared for Gaston," she admitted with a soft pink blush to her cheeks.

What? Did I hear that wrong? But….oh, my beating heart! That hurt worse than the snip-snip! Oh, I should have stayed at the castle. I lost my woman, I lost my jewels, I lost my pride…I don't even have my good looks! All I'm good for now is withering away to nothing!

One day, beast, I will have revenge! Revenge!

"Yeah, I could never give my heart to someone as superficial as he," she finished, hitting him right where it used to hurt. Superficial? What does that even mean? You made that word up! I am handsome—any woman in town will tell you! You should be lucky to be betrothed to the great Gaston!

You watch, Belle: some lucky lady will save me. Or, they would, if I had told someone I was here. And this is what I get for ignoring my instincts of leaving a kind note. Guess I'll be late to tea today.

"I'll tell you what—I'll make you a deal. Go to town and fetch me some straw. When you return, I'll share my tale," the beast compromised with a swift wave of the hand.

Gaston could hardly believe it—it almost made the pain bearable. You're letting her go? This must be a rotten trick. It's a test, that's what it is! Don't listen to it, Belle! Or…what if it's not? Run, Belle, run! You are free! But, what about me? Take me with you! I don't want to stay here with him.

"You…you trust me to come back?" The monster shook his head decidedly. He actually looked rather…sad. Great. Now the pain was giving him hallucinations.

"Oh, no….I expect I'll never see you again."

Good, because you won't. Belle is smart. She'll flee this castle and never return! You lose, beast! I have won! Except for the fact I'm still small and snipped. Over there is the little missing piece of me. Maybe I can stitch it back on once I escape.

Gratefully, Belle smiled and leaped off the table, hurrying to gather her things for her little trip to town.

For a long moment, the beast remained still, watching the spot where she disappeared as though with a sense of longing. That was impossible. It would be easier to lick your elbow than for that beast to care for someone like Belle. Gaston knew how hard that was to do—he tried.

Maybe I can somehow control my rose body to tip over this vase. Then, I can roll off the table, to the door, down the mountain. Someone will have to see the runaway rose and know I am enchanted! Okay, Gaston, deep breaths. One, two, three…push! Nothing. Okay, that was a dry run. Ready…push! Push! Harder! Ugh!

The scraping of a chair against the stone floor broke his concentration. He was rising from his seat and staring down at Gaston in his little vase. Why was he looking at him like that, with his yellow teeth exposed in a smile? It was disturbing. And suddenly, Gaston was being lifted from his vase.

Hey! What did I tell you the first time? Put me down! I shall hurt you! If I fall from this height, will it be enough to kill me?

One of the beast's strange-colored fingers settled on one of his petals, rubbing the silky texture between the pads of his fingers. And then he pulled, plucking it out.

"She loves me…she loves me not. She loves me…she loves me not." Ooh, oh, my hair! Stop that! Sir Gaston shall not be bald! Oh, this is going to be a miserable life. "She loves me, she loves me not, she loves me…"

…