Title: He tried often enough

Words: 1,750

Author: Inky8Fingers

Pairing: Francis/ New character

Rating: T (Sexual implications)

An impressively large mop of white blonde curls appeared from behind the paint splattered couch as a youth slowly emerged from his hiding place. He couldn't be more than seven years old, but the mischievous glint in his eye told of an age old talent for trouble making. Two bright blue/grey eyes swivelled from side to side, scoping out his surroundings. There, on the table... A lighter, an aerosol and big pile of highly flammable materials! The ultimate jackpot for any intelligent child! He carefully rose from his crouch to sprint agilely across the room, his fingers stretching towards his goal... "Francis!" the screech of what seemed to be some kind of possessed transvestite broke through his layers of calculated calm. He stopped dead and turned around with a gasp, expecting to see some horrific creature dragged from the creek- oh no, wait, it was just mum. The guilty look that had previously haunted his angelic features dropped away to be replaced with a look of pure innocence.

"I have told you not to touch daddy's things!" She cried, her talons reaching forward to wrap around his arm and drag him over to the window. He didn't even have to listen to the riot act she was about to read, for all he was only seven, he'd had his fair share of punishments. He simply rolled his eyes and grasped his hands behind his head, his face pressed up against the glass. It was her current favourite, or as she put it 'So everyone can see your gross little monkey face.' But on this fortuitous Tuesday, with his face squished flat for all the neighbours to ridicule, he saw HER for the first time.

She caught his eye as soon as her ginger hair escaped its tie and whipped around her impish face in the wind. She wasn't beautiful, but something about the way her eyes glinted when she turned her head to watch him smushed up against the front room window clicked with the similar glint in his own eyes and he pulled back to grin foolishly at her. It might have been his imagination, but he was sure she smiled back before her parents rushed her into the house. She was perfect! Those big, green eyes, that vibrant, orange hair... He sat back and let his hands fall to his sides. Forget the lighter... she was all he needed! He moved to stand up- "FRANCIS!" He dropped and hit the window with a gasp. Well... she'd have to wait until later...

It took him a whole year to actually work up the courage to talk to the beauty next door, by which time Reece had been born. His constant screaming had driven the eight year old Francis out into the front yard, his usually innocent face marred by the sulky pout that he currently sported, his hands pressed into his cheeks. What was the point in living when that ... Thing was stinking up the house and demanding all the attention? The answer, of course, strolled by as if by fate. Her ginger hair fell in loose, enticing curls around her cute features. As if he sensed her presence, his head snapped up and his mouth slipped open, his eyes following her as she strolled past. His eight years had taught him little of love, but he guessed the slightly squelchy and painful feeling in the pit of his stomach was either love, or indigestion, he had yet to decide.

Before he could even think about what he was actually doing, his plump lips opened and his vocal chords stretched, "Hey, ginge!"

Oh God... his brain really was made of grandma's pop-socks... The girl turned and looked at him with what could only be described as utter betrayal. He'd crossed that invisible, unspoken line, and teased her about her hair. Everyone knew 'ginge' was off limits, even to this socially awkward and emotionally stunted youth. His eyes widened to the size of dinner plates and he managed to stutter out a few inexplicable noises. The girl he'd claimed a year previously uttered a heart breaking sniffle and turned away with a flick of that fatally red hair. He couldn't help himself; he sprung from his seat on the sidewalk to run after her, one of his little hands wrapping around her even littler arm. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean-" She spun around to face him, her arm following just slightly behind. He didn't register the fist flying towards his face until it connected solidly with his eye and he hit the sidewalk.

Because of their first, disastrous, interaction, Francis and the red headed beauty didn't talk to each other for a whole further two years. They of course passed each other in the hallways at school, but every time he tried to talk to her, or apologise for the hair incident she would pretend he didn't exist. Francis was pretty busy himself those days, setting fire to his brothers, the car, the math teacher... He'd got over his water phase, and had moved resolutely onto fire in a true salute to the closing of his childhood, he only had three years left of it after all. However, fate once again threw him a curve ball in the form of their science teacher, who paired the class off and dumped him next to his cruelly enticing neighbour.

It took him a matter of seconds after she sat down to realise that he didn't even know her name. How was he supposed to be civil if he couldn't address her by name? He nervously cleared his throat and ran a long fingered hand through his bright curls. "Umm... Hi?" He croaked, gulping audibly as she dropped into the seat next to him and scooted closer to the desk. She turned her head in his direction just slightly and looked him up and down with a sniff. "Yes?" She asked finally, tucking a stray strand of her enticing hair behind one shell-like ear. He might have been foolish, but he wasn't an idiot; she was way out of his league.

"I-I'm Fran-Francis" He stuttered, twirling his pen between his fingers. He didn't even try to make eye contact when he heard her snigger. "I know who you are, Blondie." She sneered, looking away again. "Just because we're partners doesn't mean you get to talk to me." This signalled a definate end to their conversations for some time.

Age fifteen, a whole five years after the science lab conversation, and they finally managed to converse for more than three words; "Nice day today", "Hi", "Get lost creep"... Never anything too promising he had to admit, but at least she didn't do that sniffy thing anymore. For years he'd hoped she'd show some sign, any sign that she didn't really find him utterly repulsive. It was in their fifteenth year that she stopped him in the hallway to smile nervously and hang her head. This was certainly a change...

"I'm sorry, I guess I liked being the superior one for once... I stopped being mad at you for calling me ginge when we were about nine... I'm Bonnie... Bonnie Whitlock." She held out a hand for him to shake and lifted her head to smile slightly. Francis stood stock still for ages, causing the tension of the situation to rise to a level where Bonnie dropped her hand and coughed awkwardly. He should really say something... anything! Panicking slightly, he lent forward to press his lips against her hers, pushing her gently backwards so she was against the lockers. He expected her to hit him, scream, kick him in his special place... Instead he felt her arms lift and wrap around his neck, deepening the kiss.

This situation couldn't possibly get any better, no matter what happened. He pulled away to breath and grinned foolishly, letting his hand lift to tangle in her inexplicably red hair, fulfilling a dream which had lingered for what seemed like a lifetime.

At sixteen, he messed up big time. They'd been going out officially for a year when he met Grace, a busty Blonde who was delightfully liberal with her love. He hadn't meant to take her up on the offer of sexual relations... really he hadn't, he'd just got kind of swept up in the moment. All three of his brothers had gone out with mom and dad... that left a sensationally empty double bed. It was all far too tempting for this horny teenager and his raging hormones. The fact that Bonnie had come looking for him at the same time his family arriving home, with Grace screaming his name throughout the house from his parent's bed was hardly his fault.

However, the look of betrayal in Bonnie's eyes as he scrambled out of the bed, a sheet wrapped around his lower half as he chased after her was definitely his fault. "Bonnie! Wait! I'm sorry!" He cried, his feet getting tangled in the sheet that covered his modesty, causing him to fall flat on his face. The first time she'd used that look on his, they were eight years old and it had ripped him apart just as much. But he'd done the worst thing possible, he'd committed the worst crime. Back when they were kids that was calling her ginge, which seemed completely out of proportion now.

And that was the straw that broke the camel's back, the one that got him dragged off to military school at sixteen. Apparently his parents didn't like him having sex in their bed...

No matter how hard he tried to talk to Bonnie, military school and his unbelievable stupidity got in the way. Like any normal teenager, he struggled with girls, and the few friends he'd made at school were no better. As proof, their advice was to make her jealous, so along came Bebe. He had a slight mental collapse, escaped from school and ended up breaking down in a creek. This incident ended yet more of his dignity, and as the gossip travelled to Bonnie, his chances of getting her back fizzled out completely.

Years later, lying next to his wife in the middle of the night, Francis closed his eyes and tried to pretend that the arms around him were connected to someone with bright red hair and enchanting green eyes... it wasn't hard... he tried often enough.

I hope you liked it!

I know it's short, but i'm not so good with the long ones ^^,

Please review!

(Edited! I forgot to check through before posting, but i think i got all the mistakes this time!)