RichardIII1955 - Haha! Thank you! Here is some more, as promised. You also get to meet Benedick now!

Moon Lantern - Thanks for your review! Obviously I've PM'd you to explain some of the stuff ;)

Corny - Wooo! So glad you're on board and you like Sofia!

Sorry for the wait! Had a tonne of deadlines at uni, and a load of shifts at work, then my laptop broke, but I've done them all and I'm home now where my computer tech dad can fix my laptop!

Uh oh! Mercutio may be twenty one, but he clearly is never going to stop being silly! So, how will his birthday dinner go down? And what about Beatrix?


Benvolio arrived back at the townhouse that the Montagues were renting whilst their Ranch was being reconstructed. He could hear his aunt and uncle discussing something in the kitchen. They were probably talking about the building plans again. He parked Eliseo's pram in the hallway, and Hermia began to unbuckle him. Immediately, Eliseo charged out and ran into the living room.

"Granddad! Granddad! Want to play!"

Benvolio heard the sound of his sister talking, and his dad replying. They broke off as soon as Eliseo ran in to greet him. He followed the sounds of their voices, with Hermia following him in turn. They stepped into the light and airy living room, and suddenly, he did a double take.

His mother was standing in the room.

"Mum?" gaped Benvolio.

She scowled at him.

"I'm Beatrix, your sister, you prat!"

Benvolio blinked. Of course. She was frowning at him, and his mum had never frowned at him.

But it was so easy to have made the mistake. Without her signature bleached blonde locks, Beatrix could have easily have passed for their mother.

Benvolio was suddenly filled with incredibly sense of longing. He wished it had been his mother. He wished that the years without her had been a strange dream, and that she had been here along. He wished she'd been lucky like Angelo, and survived.

"Don't call Benny a prat," Hermia retorted, bringing him back into the present, "You're the one who's a prat. You tried to dye your hair like Gabriel's!"

"Everyone is having their hair done like that! He's made it popular," Beatrix protested.

"I can't think why, it looks goddamn horrible on most Italians. Even Gabe himself would say so. He'd say," Hermia raised her voice to a high-pitched girly tenor, "Oh dear, they all look like cheap tacky clones of me, don't they? Seriously, if you have olive skin and warm undertones, platinum blond hair is not for you. You should stick to the dark and sexy look. Or, if you're that desperate to go blond, you should dye your hair medium brown and have warm, golden blond tones put in."

Beatrix stuck her lower lip out to sulk. Anthony simply sighed and shook his head, "At least you didn't have to have it cut short, Beatrix. You can still style it the way you had planned for Mercutio's party tonight."

"I'm going to look ugly," Beatrix continued to sulk.

"You look better with brown hair," said Benvolio.

"No, I don't, I look like you! I'm ugly!"

"Stop calling your brother ugly!" snapped Anthony.

"Daddy not ugly!" Eliseo blew a raspberry, "Uncle Tibby ugly."

Hermia sniggered.

"Well, we've brought the little tyke over to be babysat so we can get ready," said Benvolio, gesturing to his son, "Are you sure you'll be all right with him?"

"I'll be fine. He's never any trouble," shrugged Anthony, "Unlike Micro..."

"I just meant are you sure you'll be ok with missing Mercutio's party?"

"How can anyone not be ok about missing a party where the highlight of the evening will be having cake chucked at their head?" Anthony rolled their eyes, "I'll be happier here. Your aunt and uncle are going to cook us all a nice dinner and we'll crack open a bottle of wine."

"But it's Mercutio's twenty first birthday, it's an important date for him. We've always all gone as a family before."

Anthony shrugged, "Oh well."

Hermia tugged at his shoulder, "Leave it. We'll get ready. He doesn't know what he's missing."

They both hurried upstairs to where their outfits were waiting for them. As Mercutio was twenty one, Escalus had insisted on him having a 'proper, formal celebration,' as he put it. It seemed to everyone that he was trying to mould Mercutio into an adult by shoving him into adult situations.

Anyone with any sense at all knew that it would never work.

Benvolio heard the flood of voices as Beatrix came upstairs. It was much smaller than Montague Ranch, so they could spy on each other and hear what the other was doing. Sometimes, Benvolio would lie awake listening to the whispered arguments and disagreements between his father, uncle and aunts. Sometimes, he wished he was staying at Capulet Manor, even if Tybalt was moody to him at best, the walls were even thinner, and the Capulets much more...explosive in their arguments.

"This year's income is not going to cover our expenses," said Paulina.

"We'll just cut back," Anthony replied, "We just won't spend so much."

"Impossible," said Claudio, "We've got all the rebuilding scheduled. We can't not build our own ancestral house!"

"And we have to pay for the rent of this place. It's less than what we've been paying out in upkeep for the Ranch for the past couple of years, but, when you think about the rebuilding and how much that will cost, every little extra is a pain," said Paulina.

"At least the kids can support themselves," said Anthony.

"Your kids can. If only Romeo would," Claudio replied.

"Don't start, Claudio," Paulina sighed, "It's our own fault for indulging him so much. But I just can't bear the thought of him fending for himself like that..."

The voices faded as Beatrix closed the door behind her. Benvolio wondered what disgusting concoction of an outfit she had pulled out now. It would probably make Mercutio laugh. Benvolio himself was wearing smart, formal trousers with an evening shirt, and Hermia, who in Benvolio's opinion always looked beautiful, was wearing a burgundy red chiffon blouse with the top buttons undone and tucked into her black skirt.

When they stepped out, ready to return to the Palace, Beatrix still wasn't ready. Benvolio pounded on the door and yelled at her to hurry up. How could Hermia be ready within a few minutes, and Beatrix still need half a day?

"Hurry up!" Benvolio shouted, "Hurry the hell up! Nothing you do is going to make yourself look any nicer!"

"Shut up, Benvolio! You can talk! You don't make any effort for anything and you look like a tramp!" Beatrix yelled back through the door.

"I do not!"

"Kids, shut up!" snapped Anthony, his voice carrying through the house, "Just get out of here if you're going to argue like that!"

"Fine!" Beatrix threw open her door and stormed out. Her newly brunette curls swung over her bare shoulders, and the plum purple dress she was wearing swayed as she wobbled on her heels. Benvolio gaped again. He'd seen her in this purple dress before, when she was a blonde, and she had looked horrible. But now, with dark hair...she actually looked quite beautiful.

"Stop gawking, you creep, and let's go. Since you insist I have to come out looking like shit!"

"You don't look like shit," said Benvolio.

"What do you know?" Beatrix rolled her eyes, and started to stomp out the house and down the road.

"Er, Beatrix, we're driving!" called Benvolio, "We're going in my car"

Beatrix spun around and stomped back.

"So how will we come home?" asked Hermia.

"In the car," replied Benvolio.

"But then you can't drink!"

"I don't mind," shrugged Benvolio.

"It's Merc's birthday, you've got to drink!" insisted Hermia.

"Well, how will we get back?"

"We could walk."

"Ha! You mean, I could walk, and you could crawl," scoffed Benvolio.

"I don't crawl! I can handle my alcohol very well, thank you!"

"No, you bloody well can't. Either you crawl, or one of us has to carry you," Benvolio shook his head.

"Well, in that case we could just crash at Merc's place. It's not like there's not enough room in that palace!" snorted Hermia.

"We haven't packed our pyjamas or anything."

"Sleep naked," shrugged Hermia.

"Naked!" squealed Benvolio.

"Yes. Naked," Hermia taunted.

"Can you stop there, please?" groaned Beatrix, leaning out the car window, "I don't want to think about what Ben looks like naked!"

"Oh, thanks, Beatrix. I don't want to think about what you look like naked either," sulked Benvolio, as he climbed into car. Beatrix had climbed into the passenger's seat next to him, so Hermia had to cram into the back.

Hermia smiled mischievously, "Beatrix, did you know that Benvolio has the cutest little birthmark on his left hip? It's shaped kind of like a loveheart."

"Hermia!" blushed Benvolio.

"Yes, I did, and I have one like it on my right hip, except I'm going to get a tattoo over it as soon as I decide what to have!" shot back Beatrix.

"Ah, shame. I think it's adorable," Hermia leant forward, and wrapped her arms around Benvolio's shoulders, as he switched on the ignition.

"Well, I don't," snapped Beatrix.

Benvolio's cheeks were red. Hermia just laughed, and kissed his cheek, keeping her arms around his shoulders, and her head resting in the crock of his neck. Beatrix just rolled her eyes.

Finally, the car pulled in at the palace. Hermia jumped out, and helped Benvolio out. Beatrix staggered out, and they all trekked up to the door. As soon as they walked through the halls, they could hear a loud scream.

"What is that?" asked Benvolio.

"It's Mercutio having his hair brushed," replied Valentine, Mercutio's tormented older brother. Beatrix looked at him. Like her and Benvolio, Valentine and Mercutio were as different as could be. There was an age gap of two years, and if you stripped their appearance down to the bare minerals, eye colour, hair colour, height, they were very similar. But Valentine was calm and sensible, and Mercutio was...well, he was Mercutio.

"Someone is brushing Mercutio's hair?" gaped Benvolio, "I've known him for years and he's never once brushed his hair!"

"Same here," Valentine grinned, "Our mum seemed to approve of Gabriel's present, so she thought she'd put it to use straight away. Merc told me to come down here to greet you so Allegra's filming it for me."

"Oh, poor Mercutio. We better go and see if he's ok," said Benvolio.

"OWWWWWWWWWWWW!"

Hermia sniggered. Benvolio suppressed a giggle. Beatrix openly laughed.

"THAT HUUUUUUUUUUUUUURTS!"

Mercutio stumbled out, his hair now free of tangles but sticking out in all directions, "God, my mother is a bitch!" he cursed.

"Language, Mercutio!" she called.

"Oh, it suits you, Mercutio!" teased Hermia, "You look so smart and grown up!"

"Shut up, bitch!"

"Mercutio!" said Benvolio disgustedly, "Don't call her a bitch!"

"But she is my bitch, right Hermy?"

"Yep. And you're my bitch too, right, Wooshy-wo?"

"Hey!" Allegra leant over the banister of the elaborate spiral stairs, clutching her phone in her hand, "He's my bitch!"

"Sorry," Hermia pretended to pout.

"Can we eat the food now?" interrupted Beatrix, sick of her brother's gang of friends banter.

"I asked mummy the same thing but we have to talk to some rich pooheads first," replied Mercutio.

"Oh, joy," Benvolio rolled his eyes, "This is going to be fun"

Escalus strode out into hallway, "Ah, Mercutio! You look so grownup and smart."

"Fuck you."

"Excuse me?" Escalus frowned.

"I said puck you! With a P!" lied Mercutio.

"Go and greet the guests," commanded Escalus.

"I don't want to."

"They'll give you free stuff."

"Oooh, free stuff!" Mercutio bounded down the stairs, followed by Allegra. Valentine and his and Mercutio's mother soon followed.

Hermia held out her arm to Benvolio, "Shall we?"

Beatrix followed them. It was so unfair to be in his shadow.

"This is my nephew, Mercutio," said Escalus, smiling and greeting the guests, "He is twenty one today."

"Fish!" announced Mercutio.

The room stared at him.

"Never mind, let's sit down," said Escalus quickly. They all took their places.

"Oh look," whispered Benvolio to Hermia, "The Prince of Aragon is here too!"

"Who's that?" asked Hermia.

"Don Pedro. He's a Spanish prince. He's friends with several Italian lords from other cities, and accompanied them with some troops to England to fight against the Lancasters. They've all just returned."

"Well, that took them a while!" remarked Hermia.

"King Edward needed to keep some troops for a few months to help restore order and contain rebellions, but there are been a good solid peace for almost a year now. Most of our troops and the mercenary companies they hired from Greece have left now," added Juliet.

"Some of his court are here too," Benvolio noted, "There's his half-brother, Don John...his friend Benedick, the Paduan lord...and their mutual friend Claudio, who's a Florentine count..."

"Ah, Escalus!" Don Pedro smiled, as Escalus took his place nearby him, "When are you going to be so kind as to send Signorina Duarte back to Aragon to work for me?"

"I'm afraid I still have need of Signorina Duarte. Now that Signor Fulgencio's gone," Escalus looked sad for a moment, "I need her to get that bill through which will legalise equal primogeniture so that when I'm gone I'll be sure that my Sofy is safely princess in her own right."

Paris looked up. His eyes were flashing.

"Who pissed him off?" remarked Romeo.

"Escalus did," replied Benvolio.

"He didn't say anything. Just something about a bill and Sofia being princess," said Romeo innocently.

"Yeah, the bill that puts Paris where Mercutio currently is in the line of succession. Last." Benvolio rolled his eyes.

"But Paris is the only son of Escalus' younger brother, so why would he be-"

"You are such a moron, Romeo, do you even know what equal primogeniture is?"

"A gardening product?"

"No!" cried Benvolio.

"Shut up, Bennykins, no everyone is a stuck-up swot like you are," snapped Beatrix, relieved she wasn't the only one who didn't know what it was.

"Be quiet, Beatrix. He's not a stuck-up swot, he's intelligent," interrupted Hermia.

"Well, please elaborate, Ben, explain," said Romeo.

"Equal primogeniture is where a person's heirs are based in birth order, rather than gender," explained Benvolio, "If Amparo gets the bill through, then Sofia is safely princess, with her aunt, Adelaide, Merc's mum, after her, because she's Escalus' next sibling in age order. Then it will be Valentine, and then Mercutio, but Valentine has ceded his claim because he's marrying Silvia, so he'll be the Duke Consort of Milan, and can't be Prince of Verona at the same time. So that puts Mercutio after Adelaide, and then it's Paris' dad, and then Paris himself. So that's why Paris is pissed. Because previously, his father would have been able to challenge Sofia for the princedom as a legitimate male heir, and then after him, Paris would have been prince."

Juliet snorted, "That will teach him. Stuck-up pompous twit!"

"Yep, indeed." Hermia flashed Paris a big, cheesy grin down the table.

"Imagine if Merc did become Prince," said Romeo, his eyes wide as they watched Mercutio as he sat at the head of the table, trying to balance a spoon on his nose, "Think of all the fun we could have."

"Yeah, he could legalise weed and then we could all smoke it!" Hermia beamed.

"I hate weed," said Benvolio.

"Well, you don't have to smoke it," replied Hermia.

"No, but I have to smell it on you!"

The evening progressed on. Mercutio managed to make it through the starter and then begin the main meal without making farting sounds or chucking his dinner across the room. Escalus was starting to believe that this birthday dinner had been a good idea...

"Here is what I propose we do," said Hermia, clapping her hands together. A long line of gold bangles chimed and jangled along her arm, "We play a game where we go round in a circle, and say the most annoying thing that Mercutio has ever done to us."

There was some laughter.

"But the problem with that is that I won't know where to start," replied Benvolio. The hall laughed.

"What about the time he fraped you and changed your gender preferences to men and liked all those gay pages so now Facebook keeps advertising you gay clubs?" asked Romeo.

"I was hoping you wouldn't bring that up, Romeo, thanks a bundle," Benvolio rolled his eyes.

"Oh, I have one," said Beatrix, before she could stop herself. All eyes fell on her. Colour flushed to her cheeks, "I'm a beautician, and I work in a salon. One night, when he was on his gap year in Brazil, he got up at 4am in the morning to call my salon, pretending to be an angry customer who's noo noo had dropped off because I'd waxed it too hard."

Mercutio giggled delightedly, remembering his prank.

"Stop laughing!" snapped Beatrix, "Not funny!"

"It's hilarious!" giggled Hermia, "That was when I was expecting Eli, wasn't it?"

"Yes! Because I had my gap year when you were knocked up. I feel bad. I wish I'd been here for you more."

"I wish I hadn't been stuck in stupid France," added Allegra.

Hermia squeezed her cousin's arm, "You were here for me when I needed you most."

Beatrix rolled her eyes. They were all like part of one unit – Hermia, Benvolio, Mercutio, Allegra, Juliet and Romeo, and she was left out. They all had in-jokes and it creeped her out when they all laughed at something she found mundane.

Feeling out of place and inadequate, Beatrix rose to her feet, and walked out of the room, her brunette curls swaying after her. She slipped out the door, glaring at Benvolio, as Mercutio tried to tip vodka in his drink.

Eventually, she found her way out to fountain, and sat down on the ledge. She sighed, feeling the slight flecks of water tickle her bare shoulders and arms.

Everyone was paying more attention to Benvolio than they were to her. It was the exact opposite of when they had been kids. Beatrix had been loud and sassy, demanding attention, while quiet Benvolio had sat in the corner reading. Or occasionally talking and giggling with Romeo. Beatrix had always hated being the only girl child in the family. She had no one to hang out with. So she sought attention from her parents, her uncles and aunts. And got it.

But why did they want to talk to him? He was a boring loser. All he talked about was work, and university, and Eliseo, and dorky sci-fi tv shows, and crap!

But he had stuff to look forward to. He had people who he had those kinds of things in common with. And Beatrix had nothing to look forward to, or anyone to share anything with. She had her job, her flat, her car, but that was where the story ended. Was this where the story of Beatrix Montague ended, aged twenty? She hoped it didn't.

"I liked your story about Mercutio."

Beatrix swung around, "Who are you?"

"Lord Benedick Mountanto at your service," the voice moved out of the shadows and revealed himself to be a man. One of Prince Don Pedro's companions, as Benvolio had pointed out earlier, "And you are?"

"Beatrix Montague."

"Ah, that's a pretty name," he smiled, "I believe it means traveller, or voyager. Do you like to travel, Beatrix?"

"I partied in Ibiza and Magaluf with my girlfriends last summer," replied Beatrix.

"I take it as a no, then."

Beatrix frowned. Was he insulting her? If he was, Beatrix would not take it lying down. She would deal with him as she dealt with Benvolio. She'd fight fire, with more fire.

"Well, your name is far too similar to my puke-faced brothers for my liking."

Benedick smiled, "Sibling jealousy?"

"No," snapped Beatrix, "Why would I be jealous of that loser?"

Benedick shrugged, "I don't know"

Beatrix frowned, "And how the hell did you know he was my brother?"

"You look alike."

"We do not!" roared Beatrix, balling her hand into a fist and slamming it in the fountain, so water splashed all over her dress, "He's...he's ugly, and weird, and he smells, and he's got a big nose!"

"Isn't that a bit childish?" asked Benedick.

"However childish, it's extremely true," insisted Beatrix.

"Have it your way."

"Well, don't you have any siblings?" asked Beatrix.

"No, just me."

"Aren't you a lucky guy?" sighed Beatrix.

"Really? I get pretty lonely sometimes."

"It's not Benvolio's company that stops me from being lonely. We don't even talk sometimes, even if we're in the same house. We don't like any of the same things. There's nothing to talk to him about."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah. And apparently twins are supposed to share some sort of special connection, but I'm telling you, there's none with me and Benvolio."

"You're twins?"

"Yep," Beatrix clenched her fists.

"That makes sense. I see it now," Benedick looked curiously at her.

"What? You're saying we're even more alike than you thought before? Because we are not! We are two separate people, not male and female equivalents of each other!"

"I never said that."

"Yeah, but you inclined it. Like everyone else on the planet does. I'm going back inside," Beatrix stood up, and marched back into the hall. The party was even further underway now, as Mercutio was now dancing shirtless on the table with his birthday cake on his head.

Escalus looked mortified.