AN: Thank you so much to the Guest who is following my little tale. Your constructive comments and praise are very much appreciated. Now back to the drama.
I own just the story. French is self explanatory. Constructive comments and favs equal love!
"I can't believe I let you talk me into wearing this. I'm practically naked," Elizabeth protested as she tugged futilely at the hem of her dress which barely hung half way down her thighs.
"Relax, mon cherie. You look amazing," Francis said encouragingly as he wrapped his arm around the Brit's exposed shoulders as the pair entered the nightclub.
Elizabeth caught a glance of herself in a mirror in the nightclub entrance. She had to admit it was a lovely dress. The hunter green color set off her emerald eyes and the fit accentuated the lovely new curves she had gained from having bore a child. The neckline came up and clasped behind her neck. This left her arms and shoulders exposed. Her blonde hair was masterfully French braided and tied off with a matching green ribbon. She had done her make-up rather simply which gave her a sophisticated look.
The Brit smiled inwardly and straightened up to her full height which was aided by the matching green stilettos she artfully walked in.
'You do look good, old girl. Take the damn frog's advice and relax,' the English woman thought as she allowed Francis to maneuver them through the throng of people in the club. The pair soon found themselves entering the VIP section and were greeted by an overly excited Spaniard.
"Francis! Mi amigo I am so happy to see you," Antonio said as he clapped a hand on the Frenchman's shoulder.
"Bon nuit, mon ami. It is good to see you as well. Iz Gilbert 'ere?"
"Si, he is with Belle and his date, Katyusha. She is some Ukrainian model or something. Speaking of dates, who is your bonita senorita?" the Spaniard asked as he turned lusty eyes on Elizabeth. The Brit did her best not to squirm under his appraising gaze.
"Don't tell me you do not recognize mon lapin?" the blonde man said with a chuckle. Realization lit up Antonio's face and he stared at the English woman as if she had grown another head.
"Surely, you jest mi amigo? This beauty could not be your sour faced assistant,"
"Oi you damn wanker, I did not come here tonight to be insulted," Elizabeth said angrily and glowered at Antonio.
"Ah, I see it now," the chocolate haired man said and laughed heartily. "Come my friend's let us join our other companions,"
Antonio turned and led the pair to a private lounge where a man with silvery hair and red eyes sat laughing with two very attractive blonde women. Catching sight of the newcomers the trio called out warm greetings.
"Francis, you arschloch. Vhat took you so long?" Gilbert asked in greeting and raised his beer glass toward his friend.
"It is good to zee you too, Gilbert. 'ow many drinks 'ave you 'ad already? Your winning personality 'as already made it's appearance," Francis said his voice a mix of irritation and gladness. The Frenchman and Brit took a seat next to the taller blonde.
"It's nice to meet you. I am Katyusha," the Ukrainian said and extended her hand toward Francis.
"Francis Bonnefoy, enchante," the blonde man said and placed a kiss on the pro-offered hand. A slight blush colored the light blonde woman's face. Elizabeth did her best not to roll her eyes.
"Elizabeth Kirkland, pleased to make your acquaintance," the Brit said as she leaned forward and took the Ukrainian woman's hand from Francis.
"I as well," Katyusha said and the two shook hands.
"Vait!" Gilbert said cutting into the conversation. "Elizabet? As in Francis' assistant Elizabet? Mein Gott Francis you're a miracle vorker. You turned a sow's ear into a silk purse,"
"I thought the same thing amigo," Antonio chimed in having taken his seat and wrapped himself around the other blonde, who by process of elimination had to be Belle.
Indignation filled Elizabeth to the point of bursting. Twice now she had been insulted and she was not going to stand for it. The Brit opened her mouth to speak her piece, but she was cut off by Francis.
"Mes amis I must kindly ask that you keep all of your distasteful comments about Elisabet to yourselves. If you cannot treat her with respect then we shall take our leave,"
Elizabeth looked at Francis in complete shock. Had he seriously just stood up for her? Usually he would never stop his friend's from taking jabs at her. Where was this sudden chivalry coming from?
"Elizabeth, lo siento. I meant no disrespect. You look very lovely tonight," Antonio quickly apologized.
"Es tut mir leid. I vas being less than awesome," Gilbert muttered and took a sip of his beer. Awkward silence fell over the party.
'Well this is bloody brilliant. That damn frog always has to make me look like an arse. How do I save this situation?' Thinking quickly Elizabeth turned to Antonio.
"I heard that you recently became a father, Antonio," the blonde woman said with a bright smile. The Spaniard instantly perked up and his green eyes shone.
"Si, si. Romano is so adorable. I am so blessed to have him even though the circumstances were rather dramatic of how he came to be with me," the chocolate haired man said ecstatically.
"What happened?" Katyusha asked leaning forward excitedly.
"Romano and his twin brother Feliciano were under the care of my great uncle Julius. Sadly, Julius died and then all the drama started. My family started fighting over who would get the boys and ultimately Julius' money. My cousin Roderich took both boys for a time, but he was having difficulty with Romano. Roderich is not always the most patient man,"
"That's putting it mildly," Gilbert interjected.
"Wait? Roderich? As in our neighbor, Roderich?" Francis asked turning to Elizabeth.
"Yes, that Roderich. Elizaveta and I ran into each other at the market. She had Feliciano with her and that is how I found out about Antonio having Romano," the Brit explained.
"No one wanted poor Romano because he is 'difficult'. I, however, see him for who he is and took him in," the Spaniard said proudly.
"Boring!" the albino exclaimed and slammed his drink on the table. "I didn't come here to talk about our kinder. I came here to drink und have a good time. So if you old vomen are done gossiping let's go dance,"
Gilbert grabbed hold of Katyusha's hand and pulled her after him as he made his way toward the dance floor.
"I'm with you, amigo," Antonio called as he followed after the silver haired man with Belle in tow. Elizabeth turned to Francis and gave him a withering look.
"You said nothing about dancing," the Brit said. Francis smiled and rose to his feet.
"When in Rome, mon cher," the Frenchman said as he took hold of the blonde girl and dragged her to the dance floor.
Three hours and four cocktails later Elizabeth found herself feeling rather relaxed and intoxicated. She currently was sandwiched between Antonio and Francis grinding to a hip hop song she didn't recognize. She suddenly realized her drink was empty again and gestured to Francis that she was going for another. Somehow, she managed to make it to the bar without breaking her neck in her stilettos.
"I need another one of these, mate," the Brit said as she waved her glass at the bartender. The brunette man smiled quickly mixing the drink and setting it in front of the blonde.
"Cheers," she said picking up her drink. As she turned to head back to the dance floor the blonde collided with another patron and spilt her drink all over her dress.
"Bloody Hell!" Elizabeth exclaimed and quickly made her way to the washrooms.
"Can you believe her? The little British tramp," Elizabeth heard a familiar female voice say drawing her attention as she entered the washroom. The Brit peeked around the corner and saw Belle and Katyusha at the sinks fixing their make-up.
"I know did you see her all over the guys? I bet that's how she ended up pregnant the last time," Belle said with a sneer.
"What? She has a kid? Is it Francis'? Is that why they live together?" Katyusha queried.
"I'm not sure, but it would make sense. I mean why else would he put up with her? You heard Antonio and Gilbert. She apparently is a total controlling bitch,"
Angry, hurt tears welled up in Elizabeth's eyes and she forgot about her drink stained dress. She was use to people looking down on her and talking behind her back. That didn't mean that it didn't hurt especially when the people saying these things didn't know the first thing about her. The blonde woman quickly turned back the way she had come. Tears blurred her vision and she stumbled in her stilettos.
"Blasted shoes," the Brit muttered angrily and quickly removed the offending footwear. Elizabeth made her way toward the club exit wanting nothing more than to get as far away from the crass comments of the other women.
"Elizabet, vhere are you going? The dance floor is that vay," Gilbert said catching the Britain by her wrist.
"Let me go!" the blonde said angrily and swung blindly at the albino with her shoes. Surprised, the red eyed man released the English woman's wrist, but not before he saw the tears in her eyes. Elizabeth then made a mad dash for the exit ignoring the questioning protests from the silver haired man.
Cool air crashed against the green eyed woman like a brick wall as she burst out into the night. The cold cement of the sidewalk on her bare feet made Elizabeth shiver.
'I want to go home,' the Brit thought sadly. Wrapping her arms around herself the blonde turned in the direction of Francis' townhouse. She had barely taken a handful of steps when she felt something warm drape over her shoulders.
Shocked, Elizabeth turned and found Francis standing behind her his face full of concern.
"Mon lapin, what is wrong? Gilbert, said you were upset and leaving the club," the Frenchman asked as he put his hands on the Brit's small shoulders.
'He is always there. Every time I need him he magically shows up like a white knight in a fairy tale. Why is that? Why?' Elizabeth thought as a heart wrenching sob escaped her throat and she fell forward against the blonde man's strong chest. Stunned by the sudden our burst Francis instinctively wrapped his arms protectively around the girl.
"Mon cher?"
"Please, Francis, don't ever leave me. Please always be there for me. If I didn't have you I'd be alone again and I can't bear that," the English woman pleaded and turned broken emerald eyes up to meet his sapphire eyes. Francis felt his heart clench as he looked into those green eyes.
"Elisabet," the Frenchman said breathlessly as he leaned down and kissed the Brit. The blonde girl froze for but a fraction of a second before she returned the kiss in earnest.
What happened next became a blur of passionate kisses, city lights, and flying attire. Before they truly knew what happened the pair found themselves in Francis' bedroom. They fell naked locked together in another deep passionate kiss onto the king size bed. Their tongues danced together in a waltz old as time.
Elizabeth twined her fingers into the Frenchman's hair as he trailed kisses along her jaw to her ear. His tongue caressed the shell of said ear making the blonde woman squirm in pleasure and need.
"Francis, please," the Brit begged as she writhed under the weight of the Frenchman. The blonde man leaned back and looked into Elizabeth's passion glazed eyes.
"Are you sure, mon petite?" he asked his sapphire eyes searching her emerald ones.
"Yes!" the English woman cried taking hold of the Frenchman's head and pulling him into another deep kiss. Francis adjusted their position and lined up his hips. He slowly sheathed himself into her and gave a deep guttural, claiming growl. A gasp of ecstasy escaped the blonde girl and she pressed her hips up toward the blonde man's.
"Be still, Elisabet or you will unman me," Francis said pressing the Brit into the mattress. The blonde girl whimpered in protest but did as she was asked. The Frenchman moved his hips in a slow rhythmic manner as he rained kisses down on Elizabeth's face, neck, and shoulders. The green eyed girl squirmed and wriggled under the blonde man's masterful ministrations her passion rising with every thrust.
"Francis, please, I can't take much more," the English woman entreated. Francis abruptly wrapped his arms around the Brit and rolled the pair so that Elizabeth was now straddling him.
"I want to zee you, Elisabet. Show me your true beauty. Your unbridled passion," the Frenchman said as his hands took hold of the blonde girl's hips coaxing her upward. Elizabeth moved her hips up and down until she found a rhythm. Unadulterated bliss coursed through the blonde and she tangled her fingers into her hair.
"Francis, Francis," the green eyed Brit chanted like a spell as her movements became more urgent. She was so close. Incoherent words and mewls escaped the Brit as she claimed her peak.
"Elisabet," Francis growled as he quickly flipped the girl onto her back as she was in the glow of climax. After several sharp thrusts he too climaxed and rolled off of the Brit.
They lay there side by side panting in the afterglow. Exhaustion, washed over Elizabeth and she rolled onto her side drowsy eyes closing tightly.
"I love you, Elisabet," were the last words she heard before she drifted off to sleep.
'Ugh, why is it so warm? Why does it feel like Big Ben is ringing in my head? What is this heaviness on me?' Elizabeth thought as she awoke the next morning. Events of the previous evening slowly began to replay themselves in the Brit's head as she struggled to open her eyes.
"That is the last time I let Francis talk me into going out with his friends," she murmured as her eyes opened and cleared. As she looked around the room the blonde quickly realized she was not in her own room.
"This looks like…" Elizabeth froze as she suddenly remembered where she was. She turned her head and found herself face to face with the Frenchman. He had an arm wrapped around her waist and was snoring lightly.
'Oh bloody Hell!' the English woman thought as she slowly slid herself out from under the Frenchman's arm and climbed off the bed. Moving as silently as a cat the green eyed girl walked across the room and quickly crept out the open door. Then she all but sprinted down the hall.
Elizabeth ducked into her own room and grabbed her white terrycloth robe from its hook on the back of the door. She wrapped her naked body in the robe and then moved to her bed. She sank down on the bed's edge and clasped her face in her hands. Her words from last night rang in her head.
"Please, Francis, don't ever leave me. Please always be there for me,"
"What have I done? I've really buggered up this time," Elizabeth said aloud as the full weight of the situation crashed down on her like a ton of bricks.
"I love you, Elisabet," the memory of Francis' last words before sleep had taken her echoed in the Brit's ears. The English woman growled and tugged at her blonde hair as a wave of conflicting emotion washed over her. She sprang to her feet and made for her bedroom door.
"I need tea. I always think better after I've had my tea," the blonde said as she quickly made her way downstairs. She turned at the foot of the stairs and walked into the kitchen. Her body went into auto-pilot as her mind wandered back to last night.
'What am I going to do?' she thought as she set the tea kettle on the oven burner. 'I'll just tell him last night was a mistake. It was the drinks talking. I mean we were both pretty drunk,'
Suddenly, Elizabeth felt a pair of arms wrap around her waist and a soft kiss was placed on the crown of her head.
"Bonjour, mon amour," Francis said against the Brit's scalp. Panic consumed Elizabeth she violently tore herself from the Frenchman's embrace putting as much distance as she could between them. The blond man looked at the emerald eyed girl with surprise and hurt in his own eyes.
"Wh-what do you think you're doing frog? Wrapping yourself around me like that?" the Brit said her panic written all over her face. She then noticed that Francis was completely naked and quickly turned away from him.
"Elisabet, after last night…"
"Last night was a mistake and I would like to forget it ever happened,"
"Y-you don't mean that," Francis said his voice full of confusion and pain.
"Francis, we were both drunk. We said and did things last night that neither of us would have ever done when sober," the Brit said and quickly moved to leave the room.
"Elisabet, wait,"
"I have to go fetch Alfred. I'm sure your mother is wondering where I am," the Brit disappeared through the doorway before Francis could protest. The Frenchman stared at the empty doorway for a moment and then violently slammed his fist on the counter top.
"Why, lapin? Why is it that every time someone gets close to you, you run?" Francis listened as Elizabeth moved around in her room and turned his gaze toward the ceiling. "Why can't you let anyone love you?"
Francis stood outside the bathroom door with Alfred squirming on his hip. His concern grew as he heard his friend begin to wretch.
"Mon lapin, this is the third day you 'ave been ill. I think you need to see a doctor," the blonde man said with concern.
"I'm…I'm fine…It always passes…" the Brit cut off as she wretched again. Francis felt himself grow a bit queasy listening to his sick friend.
"Alfred and I will run to the corner store and buy you some medicine. We will be right back,"
"Fine," the English woman called after she finished vomiting.
'Ugh. This is most unpleasant. I don't think I'm sick and it definitely isn't food poisoning. It feels almost like when I had morning sickness,'
Horror filled the blonde woman's heart and she scrambled to her feet. She staggered to medicine cabinet and began pulling out items until she found what she was looking for. She opened the box and pulled out a pregnancy test.
'Please no. Please, please, please,' Elizabeth chanted in her head as she took the test and then set it on the counter.
"It takes two minutes," the Brit read aloud as she looked at the box and paced the small length of the washroom. This was the second longest wait of her life. The first of course being when she found she was pregnant with Alfred. She glanced down at the test and her heart sank. The test was positive.
"DAMN IT ALL TO BLOODY HELL! I MUST BE THE SINGLE MOST FERTILE FEMALE ON THE PLANET! THAT'S TWICE NOW! TWICE! I AM NEVER DRINKING AGAIN!" Elizabeth scram at the top of her lungs and crumpled to the floor in hysterical sobs.
"What do I do now?"
AN: She's pregnant again! Guess who that is? What happens next? Does she tell Francis? Read on my dears.
Sorry Belgium and Ukraine. I just needed some catty chicks and y'all got volunteered. Poor Elizabeth is an emotional drunk.