"So why did you call me out to go drinking with you all of a sudden? I thought you said that you never wanted to see my face again?" A very pretty young woman swished a delicate cocktail before taking a small sip. She raised one slender eyebrow at her companion, wondering if he was drunk enough yet for him to start spilling his guts.

The answer was yes. The man who ordinarily looked so proper and well groomed had loosened his tie and even undone a few buttons, claiming he was hot. His hair was disheveled and his bushy brows met in a stressful expression. "I don't ever want to see your face again," he agreed, nodding his head and stressing syllables that didn't need to be stressed. He leaned down and rested his forehead on the bar top and sighed exasperatedly. "But I wanted to go out for a drink with you. Is that too much to ask for? A simple drink between exes after a long day of taking care of your children. Is that so much to ask?" He pushed himself up and glared at his ex.

The female chuckled at the drunken show and pushed her long blond hair behind an ear. Her smile reached her eyes, framed by dark lashes and expertly done make-up. Rosy lips pulled upward and every movement of her face was deliberate, graceful and practiced. She was quite the beauty and many of the drunk's friends wondered why he had ever let her go. On the other hand, the female's friends never stopped asking what was so charming about a grouchy old English man to which the answer was this. She loved how cute he got. On rare occasions, the grouchy attitude would fade away to reveal a sweet and amusing inside. He was especially cute when he was drunk (and easy to take advantage of, but that would have to wait until later).

"No, it's not too much to ask. I don't mind really," She answered coolly and took another sip of her drink. She still had a level head. "I enjoy drinking with you." She chuckled. "You make me smile. You always have." Her eyes flashed to the other's face to see his green eyes dart away in embarrassment or maybe guilt. Having the upper hand at the moment, she decided to push her luck and turned to face the man directly. "Arthur," she began in an enchanting and overly sweet voice.

Arthur's ears perked up and he looked at his ex suspiciously. He knew that tone of voice even in his drunken state. "What do you want, Francine?"

Giggling softly at how well her old boyfriend knew her, Francine continued with her sickeningly sweet voice anyway, "If raising the boys is really that much of a hassle for you, you know that I wouldn't mind taking care of them sometime, right?"

This caught the drunken man's attention and he quickly sat up straight, regretting the fast action soon after. Holding his spinning head, he answered with a curt, "No."

"But, Arthur," she tried to reason with him, but was quickly cut off.

"No, Francine. You left, abandoned them…and me. You are an irresponsible mother and person in general. You can barely take care of yourself let alone anyone else! You're selfish and greedy and this isn't even about the boys. It's never been about the boys! It's all about you. It's always been about you! Who did you blame when you got pregnant? It was all my fault. Who paid for all of your hospital bills? Me! Who supported you when you were on bed rest? I still had to work while you quit your job without a second thought. I had to support both of us and did my best to budget and every other weekend you would come home with a new bag from Paris! When you got pregnant, I wanted to marry you, but you said no. You said you didn't want to settle down yet, but you still wanted to have the kids. After a week you realized that taking care of someone else was too hard and you quit that too. I woke up in the middle of the night to two babies crying and an empty place beside me in bed. You just disappeared on me without a word. I had no idea what happened to you! Did you even consider my feelings at all? I was worried about you! Years later you show up out of the blue and say how you had been away at some fancy art school in France. How the bloody hell did you even afford to go there? You claimed that you were ready to settle down then, that you had gotten it all out of your system. I said 'okay! Why not? The boys need a mother!' and I let you come back and what did you do? You hadn't changed at all! You are still irresponsible and selfish and a very pretty lady and you think that you don't need to do anything and that you are the queen of the world and I hate you and you can never take care of the boys because they aren't yours anymore. You left them, Francine. They aren't yours anymore!" The man rambled off, mumbling here and there and randomly raising and lowering his voice, making it rather hard to follow his scrambled thought process.

Meanwhile, Francine sighed and frowned. She had heard most of this before. It was the regular speech she got from her ex. He was still so bitter. That didn't seem like it was going to change any time soon and yet she still tried. You'll always hold a special place in your heart for the father of your children.

When Arthur finally finished, he ended with a grunt/whine and fell onto the top of the bar, knocking over his glass (still half full) in the process. "Ai! Watch it!" Francine complained lifting her arms off the counter so she wouldn't get beer soaked into her sleeves. "That's it, I'm taking you home." Turning to the bar tender who didn't seem surprised at all, she said, "he has a tab here right?" Getting a nod, Francine told the man to put both their drinks on it and then slung a drunken arm over her shoulders and helped Arthur walk to the door.

Once they were outside in the cool night air, Arthur perked up a little bit and insisted that he could stand on his own. He did stand for a few seconds and then he wobbled and needed Francine's support once again. He continued to grumble under his breath how he didn't need her help. Ignoring him, Francine waved her arm in the air to flag down a taxi. She had always been good at getting taxis thanks to her good looks and it wasn't long before one pulled over to invite her in. She helped Arthur into the cab and climbed into the backseat with him before telling the driver where to go.

The cab pulled away from the curb and drove off down the busy streets. Before they had even reached the residential district, Arthur had fallen asleep and was leaning against Francine's shoulders. Smiling softly down at him, she ran slender manicured fingers through his rough blond locks. Eventually, her fingers trailed down and across the male's face. Finally, her thumb fell into a rhythmic motion as it gently caressed a bushy blond eyebrow. Arthur made a few noises in his sleep and Francine chuckled softly to herself, "What a strange place to be so sensitive." Then she leaned over and planted a chaste kiss on her old lover's forehead.

"Missus?" The cabby said, looking back at her, "We've arrived."

Looking out the window at the familiar little brick house, Francine nodded, "So we have." Shaking Arthur softly to wake him up, she was able to coax him out of the car. "Hang on a moment," she told the cab driver who was waiting to be paid. Francine pulled Arthur into a warm embrace, however her hands quickly started to move around, groping at Arthur's ass and patting pockets until she finally pulled away holding Arthur's wallet. Finding the right amount of cash, she handed it to the driver and winked at him, "Oh, and it's just Miss, Miss Francine Bonnefoy." Turning her back on the cab driver and walking away with a delicious swish of her hips, Francine lead her male companion up to his front door and then again patted his pockets for the key, sneaking a grope or two in here as well.

Once inside, the two adults were greeted by a teenage girl with a pair of long brown pigtails tied up with red ribbons. "Oh? Mr. Kirkland! Is he alright?" She asked Francine, worried about her neighbor's health.

Francine smiled and nodded her head, "Yes, he's fine. He just needs some sleep. You're the babysitter right? How much does he owe you?" She opened Arthur's wallet again to extract the girl's pay from it.

The babysitter, who was a neighbor from down the street had a fair price and babysat for Mr. Kirkland often. Even though, she had never seen him come home so drunk before and the concern clearly showed in her eyes. Francine felt generous with Arthur's money and gave her a good tip since it wasn't fair she had to see her employer in such a state. The girl thanked Francine (and although he probably couldn't understand her, Arthur too) and was about to leave when Francine stopped her.

"How were the boys?" She asked.

"Oh, they were very well behaved. Alfred got into the cookies before dinner, though and I had to put him in time out. Mattie and I played checkers together and then we all watched Power Rangers and ate macaroni and cheese with milk." She smiled. She was a good babysitter and proud of it. She also loved the boys and enjoyed playing with them very much.

Francine smiled bittersweetly at the description. Her boys were living their lives without her and she was regretting ever leaving them. "Oh, I missed your name. I'm Francine by the way."

"I'm Michelle, but the boys like to call me 'Chelle" the girl smiled again. She had a very nice smile. "It's very nice to meet you Miss Francine." After shaking hands, the young girl hurried home, her light blue dress doing little to protect her from the chilly night air.

Francine watched her go and thought to herself that that was the only female that her boys had contact with. How would they grow up without a proper motherly figure in their lives? She looked at Arthur who was slumped on her shoulder, half asleep. With this one raising them, who knew what their futures looked like! "Alright now, let's get you to bed," Francine murmured softly and guided Arthur to his bedroom.

The house hadn't changed. Francine and Arthur were still together when Arthur first put the down payment on the small home. He explained to her that their children would be raised properly in a proper home in a good neighborhood. It had been expensive despite being the smallest house on the block, but Arthur was sure they would be able to pull through. Then Francine quit her job and the hospital bills kept piling up. Thinking about it now, she wondered how Arthur had managed to stay afloat. She vaguely remembered waking up late at night and hearing him talking on the phone asking for loans and favors. She didn't really spend much time in this house and had run off to Europe within a few months. Even so things still looked the same. Even the boxes piled in the corners were still there. Had Arthur never had the chance to really move in even after all these years? Things that had looked shiny and new back then were covered with dust. Did he not get around to cleaning ever? Well, it must be hard raising two boys on your own and working all at the same time. Who had time for house work?

Arthur's room was the worst of all. Boxes made it difficult to move about and it was a mess. Clothes were all over the floor and papers (probably from his work) were littered everywhere. Francine found herself looking around for a dresser or a desk, but didn't see one. She remembered that Arthur hadn't had either way back then, but had he still not bought one? Could he not even afford to buy himself a dresser? Something he said years ago rang in her head, "I don't mind giving up a few things to make sure our boys get a good life." Lying the man down in his bed and taking off his shoes, tie, and belt, Francine wondered how she could have been so selfish in the past. Arthur, he was so giving, so selfless and she had walked all over him. No wonder he hated her now.

After taking off his pants and his shirt, Francine pulled the covers over him and kissed his cheek. She watched him sleep for a moment and then slipped out of her own shoes and stripped down to her underwear. About to climb into bed with her ex-lover, a noise from the other bedroom down the hall caught her attention. It was crying. A moment later a second voice joined the first and their wailing increased in volume.

The sound reached the drunken man's ears and he bolted up and sprang out of his bed and down the hall, not even noticing Francine. It was the practiced response of an only parent. Francine quickly followed after the man and peeked into the room the crying was coming from.

"Shhh," Arthur was bouncing a little boy with blond hair and blue eyes and rocking him back and forth in his arms. "Shh, it's okay. It's okay. What's wrong? Did you have a nightmare? It's okay. Daddy's got you now. Daddy's got you." The boy grabbed at his father's face and started to calm down. Arthur then moved to the boy's brother who was still crying and sitting in his bed. "Mattie, are you alright? Did Alfred wake you up? It's alright. Everything is fine. There's no need to be afraid. Shhh." Soon enough both boys had been put back to bed and were sleeping soundly.

Francine finally spoke softly, "Wow. Aren't you Mr. Dad."

Arthur looked at her, a harsh expression crossing his face. "Francine, what are you doing here?"

"I brought you home," She answered, proud of herself. "You were too drunk to make it on your own."

Arthur sighed and rubbed his temples as he ushered her out of the boys' bedroom and back into the family room. "Fine then. You brought me home, now go. You aren't welcome here anymore." His voice was low and tired.

Francine pouted and leaned forward, making sure to squeeze her breasts together to help her convince Arthur to let her stay.

"That's not going to work, Francine. I'm not a foolish young man eager for sex anymore. I'm a dad. I have responsibilities. The boys have always and will always come first and you being here isn't good for them. I don't need them confusing you for their mother."

"But I am their-" Francine began, but she was cut off.

"No, Francine. You aren't. A real mother wouldn't abandon her children like you did."

"Oh, come on, Arthur!" Francine complained a bit too loudly and earned herself a "shh" from Arthur. "Come on, Arthur," she repeated, quieter this time. "I am so their real mother. So I made a mistake, that doesn't give you the right to boot me out of my childrens' lives forever! I want to be a mom now. I'm ready this time!"

"That's what you said last time and from what I've seen, you still haven't changed. You're still as irresponsible as ever and I'm not going to let you into my childrens' lives just so you can leave them again. No, Francine. No."

"Arthur," Francine complained softly.

Arthur repeated sternly, "No. Now go home."

Then Francine pouted at Arthur and continued to beg him with her eyes. Suddenly Arthur wobbled, still not completely sober and Francine's face lit up. If he was still at least a little drunk then she would be able to get what she wanted, she was sure of it. Moving closer to Arthur, she turned on her seductive charm full power and let a lithe hand fall on her lover's shoulder. "Arthur," she whispered softly into his ear, "You should get back to bed. Aren't you tired? I promise that I'll leave once I get you in bed, okay?"

Despite his better judgment, Arthur agreed and retreated back to the bedroom where he climbed into his bed. "Now, go," he murmured, crawling under the blanket, "and lock the door on your way, whoa!"

Instead of holding true to her word, Francine had crawled into bed with Arthur and was snuggling up next to him.

"Francine!" Arthur complained loudly, but a finger quickly pressed against his lips.

"Shhh," Francine cooed, "you don't want to wake the children, do you?" This successfully got Arthur to quiet down, but he still wasn't complying.

Francine easily slipped out of her bra, discarding it beside the bed. Then she moved her body close to his and let her now exposed breasts brush lightly against the pale skin of Arthur's chest. The man swallowed, unable to speak anymore. Francine smirked. She knew exactly how to get her way with men and Arthur was no exception. Slowly, she crawled on top of Arthur, planting soft kisses here and there before finally claiming his lips. Arthur, a slave to his old lover's ways, had no choice but to return the kiss. Soon enough the two were intertwined in love like they used to be and old emotions rose up from the depths of their hearts, reminding them of the feelings they once shared.