Disclaimer: I own nothing, and only borrowed the characters for a little while.

"Oi you," ordered the tall overbearing man as he knocked her knees where she sat at the desk.

Annoyed, Katherine looked up from her computer, surprised at suddenly dark it was. "What?"

"Grab number three," he said. "I've only got room for two." He already had two of their children in his arms, identical heads resting on a shoulder apiece.

The baby one – Darby – lay sprawled on the couch. She huffed as she rose from her seat, but her touch was gentle as she slid her hands under her son and rested the three year old against her shoulder.

Following her husband up the stairs, she struck up a conversation. "An invitation arrived in the mail for us today."

"Which pompous ass requires our delightful presence?" he smirked.

"Bianca's getting married. Again."

"Ah that pompous ass." He pecked his wife on the lips when they reached the landing before she could retort. "Wonder how long that union will last."

Katherine snorted. "I give it six days."

"That's generous," considered Petruchio.

Kate grumbled. "I don't see why we have to go really," she said as she overtook him, opening the boys' bedroom door. "We'll be obliged to attend the divorce proceedings soon after anyway."

"We could shag in the coat room," offered her husband as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"What's a shag?" interrupted the eldest of the triplets sleepily as he looked up at his father.

"It's a type of rug Vaughan," said his father smoothly, pressing his lips to his head. "Now go back to sleep."

"This is why sex in public places is not quite so easy these days," said exasperated woman, throwing her arms out to gesture at their offspring.

"Your mother will be there right?" shrugged the tall man as he divested himself of child number two.

"Just because someone bears the title of 'mother', doesn't mean they're 'motherly' and responsible," she snorted in reply.

"Harry then," he suggested equably as he pulled the sheets up over Emerson.

Each child kissed and tucked in, he turned to his wife then. He gave her no time to think as he picked her up at the waist. She wrapped her legs around his hips, even as she protested at his behaviour as they left the room. "I have work to do," she complained.

"So do I," he said, marching onward to their bedroom. "Only mine doesn't involve the entire British population." He paused. "Just one in fact."

A young woman looked at them aghast when they passed her in the hall, but he ignored her. She must be new.

He grew aroused by her attempts to pull free and pressed her roughly back against the wall, covering her small form with his. There was desire in the eyes of both as he leaned forward. "Kiss me Kate."

"Get off me you pillock," she protested, pounding uselessly at his shoulder.

"I think rather not," he said genially as he held her to him with ease, kicking open their bedroom door with more vigour than required. "We have important business to see to."

Finito.