Title: The Princess and the Pea (Fairy Tale Challenge) Author: Stephanie Character: Original Character, Dr. Anthony Girardeau Rating : PG Disclaimer: The following story has been written with no intention of claiming ownership or solicitation, nor does the author claim the movie character(s) as his/her own. The movie character(s) have been borrowed solely out of a love of the particular movie and is not intended for any other purpose but amusement and entertainment.

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"I really think we should stop." Anthony Girardeau rolled his eyes and kept his concentration on the road. "Anthony, I really don't think it's safe! It's snowing harder now. We ought to find somewhere to stay." The Point's physician flicked his eyes toward his wife. He loved his wife, he truly did, but he'd discovered the hard way that living with her was rarely easy- especially when she was pregnant. Four months along with a set of twins, her mood swings were about to drive him insane. She was quirky at the best of time- it was one of the things that he adored about her- but that didn't mean that it couldn't also send him insane. In addition to hormone-trigger irrationality, there were cultural differences to account for too. He'd honestly thought she was joking when Stephanie and Tina called him "Yankee" and teased about getting a passport stamped when they headed North. After two years of marriage, he wasn't so sure. There was no disputing that his spouse held differing opinions regarding snow. To Anthony, born and raised in New England, four inches was pretty scenery. To Stephanie it was "Cause for Alarm". "Anthony..." Stephanie had been repeating his name at a progressively higher and more urgent pitch every half-mile since the snow had started coming down. She was obviously fighting every instinct in her body not to beg to stop at the nearest supermarket and hoard up milk and bread- or else to demand that they turn around completely. Anthony had hoped for a white Christmas, but hadn't expected such an abundance of snow, or that they would have to drive so long. They were visiting his father for Christmas, heading home to Ogunquit, Maine. The Point had, surprisingly, spit them out in the middle of Connecticut, and they still had a ways to go. "We're almost to Boston!" he protested, "It's only three hours away." Really, Stephanie wasn't being reasonable. "And Molly is finally asleep. She'll be grumpy tomorrow if we wake her now." Stephanie twisted in her seat, confirming Anthony's words. Their rose-cheeked eighteen month old daughter was snoozing contentedly in her carseat, oblivious to the snow that was spiraling down outside. "Fine," Stephanie sniffed. She made a show of settling back in her seat- and clutching the armrest in exaggerated terror whenever her husband moved the wheel even slightly to the side. It only took ten minutes of theatrics before Anthony conceded defeat. "Fine, we'll stop," he growled- and pulled off at the next exit to a motel.

It was an inexpensive but tidy little chain, and Stephanie didn't protest. Twenty minutes later, Anthony was lugging their suitcases up to the room. Stephanie had gone ahead with Molly who, predictably, had come awake and started squalling. Anthony rubbed his temple as he dropped the load and then laid back on the bed, "Let me have her," he suggested, "You go ahead and get ready for bed." Stephanie nodded and did as he suggested, ducking into the bathroom to shower and to change her clothes. Anthony tucked Molly under his arm, jostling her up and down while he flipped through the channels for basketball scores. He had just stopped on Sportscenter when he heard the scream. Anthony's blood turned to ice, and he momentarily let Molly roll onto the bed as her crying was eclipsed by his wife. Stephanie shrieked a second time. After making sure that the baby was secure, Anthony rushed into the bathroom where he was befuddled to find his wife standing on top of the toilet, naked save for the shower-curtain wrapped around her body, and nearly crying with fear. "What's wrong?" he asked. Stephanie took a ragged breath, and then stretched out her arm and pointed toward the drain. "D-do you s-see it?" she stuttered. Anthony squinted, but then he saw what she was alluding to- a tiny gray bug marching up the tile. Rolling his eyes, he got a piece of toilet paper, collected the small offender and tossed it into the trash. "Your hero," he teased, turning to go back to Molly, and surprised when his wife followed him out of the bathroom and started tossing clothing back into their bags. "What are you doing?" he asked. "Anthony! We can't stay here!" Stephanie whined. "It was just a little bug!" he protested. The hotel wasn't new by any stretch of the imagination, but it certainly looked clean. No place was one hundred percent perfect. He'd had ants in the Clinic before. "It's hardly anything that's going to hurt you. Besides- it's only for one night." "Fine," Stephanie huffed in the same tone she'd used in the car. Anthony groaned, knowing already that he'd lost again.

After packing up the car, they drove for another half hour, all the way to the outskirts of Boston before they found a vacancy sign. This time it was a suite hotel- more than Anthony wanted to spend for an unexpected stay, but he was too frustrated and too tired to complain. The snow was coming down heavier now. Although Anthony, like any proud Yankee, hated to admit that his Kentuckian wife had been right about the weather, he couldn't deny that conditions were getting worse. More and more travelers were sharing Stephanie's idea, and most of the inns were full. They finally found one, however, and Anthony got their room. "I'll take the first shower this time," he said pointedly while his wife assembled Molly's portable crib. This way he'd be able to scour the bathroom for bugs. Like their last set of lodgings, this one looked impeccably clean- but he couldn't be too careful. The shower was bug free, and refreshing. He was in a much-improved mood when he strolled back outside- until he saw his wife, bags still packed, sitting on the edge of the bed with Molly strapped into her carseat. "We have to change rooms," she said firmly. "What? Why?" Stephanie looked incredulous, "Anthony! You know why!" "Do I?" he asked, clueless. "Anthony! Don't you smell it?" He sniffed. "This is a smoking room!" "Is it?" Anthony inhaled again. Very vaguely, beneath the mask of air freshener and cleaners, he could pick out a hint of stale smoke. "They'll have to switch us to a non-smoking room." "They can't!" Anthony insisted, "You heard the clerk at check in. This is the last room they had. It's hardly going to hurt us for one night."

Stephanie's lower lip poked out, "Well, you're the doctor after all," she said in a pouting tone. Nose in the air, she walked around to the opposite side of the bed, rearranging their baggage without unpacking it. "If you don't care that your baby daughter and your pregnant wife are being exposed to second-hand smoke, then I suppose that we don't need to worry."

Anthony counted very slowly to ten, forcing his muscles to declench before finally addressing his wife, "Okay," he growled, "We'll do things your way- but don't be surprised if there's no where left to stop." After another hour on the road, moving at the speed of a snail, Anthony wished that he'd held his ground. Sign after sign read "No Vacancy", though they pulled off at almost every stop. They detoured through downtown, hoping for more luck away from the interstate, even though traffic was moving at a crawl. "I'm sorry, but we're full up," the desk clerk said at the third hotel they tried. Anthony was about to ask directions to a stable- when the cheerful blonde beckoned him back, "The last person here called the Eliot and they had a few rooms left. You could use our phone if you like." Anthony called, relieved to find an opening and booked without asking questions. By the time they arrived, it was after midnight. He and Stephanie were almost as cranky as Molly, so he was grateful to retire to their room- or rather, to their suite. He stood in the doorway, a little bit in awe of the high molded ceilings of the sitting room and, through a pair of french doors, the toile-draped canopy bed. Stephanie, on the other hand, looked perfectly at home. She sat down the luggage, and happily set up the crib, installing Molly in it before disappearing into the green-marble bathroom to change her clothes. Anthony almost didn't trust her contentedness. He lay awake, waiting for the shoe to drop...and so he wasn't quite surprised when she threw the covers back and sat bolt-upright in bed. "This mattress is terrible!" she exclaimed, "Don't you think so?" Anthony arched a brow. It felt like heaven to him- at least, it would if he ever got any sleep. "Let me try your side," she insisted. Sighing, he did as he was asked- but Stephanie still wasn't happy. She flipped and turned, sighing and muttering under her breath. Anthony tried to ignore her as she inverted her position: lying with her head at the footboard, and then balled the comforter up under her arms. It wasn't any use. She kept squirming around. Sunrise was streaking the sky before he finally got to sleep... "Good morning, sleepyhead." Anthony awoke to find Stephanie and Molly already dressed. They were standing by the window, nibbling pieces of toast while Stephanie pointed to things outside and named

them for the baby. Stretching and yawning, the doctor went to join them. He slid his arms around his wife, resting one hand on her pregnant belly, and the other on their daughter with his chin nestled against Stephanie's neck. The view outside the window was magical- snowdrifts two feet thick had clogged the street, and icicles dripped from every tree. "There didn't seem to be any point in waking you," Stephanie explained, "It doesn't look like we're going anywhere for a while." Anthony nodded in agreement. He'd have to call his father after he ate and tell him that they were going to be late. Releasing his wife, he walked to the breakfast tray and poured himself a cup of coffee, "Oh, well," he said dismissively, as he selected a piece of fruit, "At least we're stranded somewhere nice." "Do you think so?" Stephanie said, and wrinkled her nose. Anthony felt his stomach drop. "Of course," he said, "Don't you?" "The beds were awful!" Stephanie declared, "I hardly slept a wink." Anthony closed his eyes and shook his head, deciding that laughter was the only way to stave off tears. "What?" Stephanie asked, suspicious. "What?" Anthony refused to answer, although the truth finally seemed to dawn on his wife. She clapped her fingers over her mouth. "Oh, Anthony!" she said, blushing, "I'm so sorry- I've done nothing but complain." "I love you anyhow," Anthony assured her with a long-suffering sigh. "After all..." he muttered under his breath, "At least I know I married a real princess."