Chapter 7: Meeting an "Old Friend
"Yeah, yeah, fine, totally fine. So, uh, what did you guys find?"
They heard the door open downstairs, "Dearies~" Oliver sing-songed, "I'm home!"
"We'll talk later," Aeris said, "Come on." They headed towards the stairs, and walked down them. Oliver was in the living room, and he was supporting a taller form. The other man was wearing a purple shirt that was unbuttoned on the top, revealing a hairy chest that none of the girls wanted to see. He had his hand other hand pressed against his side, and there was a red substance that looked like blood. He had ratted long, dirty blonde hair and tired, dull blue eyes, as well as scruff on his face.
"This is Francois," Oliver quickly introduced the guest, "Now, we must be off, I need to tend his bullet wound." He disappeared down the hallway, leading Francois to the bathroom.
"That looks like Francis." Alexi said, when they vanished down the hallway, "In fact it probably is."
"With a name like Francois, for sure." Aeris agreed.
Anika nodded.
-xXx-
Oliver closed the door behind him, and set Francois down on the toilet. Then, he kneeled down and got the first-aid from the cupboard under the sink. He set it on the counter, and then turned and faced Francois.
"Who zee 'ell are zhey?"
"Language, Francois! That's not important right now. What's important is you taking off your shirt so I can have a look at that wound."
"I will not take it off until you tell me who zhey are."
"My goodness, cupcake, you are quite stubborn, aren't you! They're my guests. Some young ladies I found walking in the rain last night. They were dressed in summer clothes, and they were wet and cold so I brought them home. They're quite darling and polite."
"Why are zhey out in zee rain in summer clozhes? Zhat's stupid."
"They aren't from around. And don't insult them, please. They're my guests."
Francois huffed.
"Now please, sweetheart, remove your shirt so I can have a look at your bullet wound."
The Frenchman slowly started to unbutton his top, just to get under the Englishman's skin.
"My goodness, darling, please speed it up a bit. I am very worried and this isn't helping."
Eventually, he slid his arms out of his shirt, and threw it in a heap on Oliver's bathroom floor. Now Oliver was able to get a good look at it. The blood was sticky as it was starting to dry, and it had soaked partially onto his abdomen and back. Oliver soaked a cloth under warm water.
"This is probably going to sting a little." Oliver warned, wringing out the towel before putting it against Francois' skin. The Frenchman hissed.
"I'm so sorry, dearie." Oliver apologized as he cleaned off the blood. Now, he could clearly see the wound. "It did a little more than just nicked darling; it took out a chunk of your skin."
Francois shrugged.
Ollie ran the cloth under the hot water until the water ran clean, wrung it out and then let it dry. After that, he put some disinfectant on the wound and carefully snitched it together, using his vast knowledge of stitching, embroidering, and sewing to sew it cleanly. Then, he took a bandage and wrapped it around Francois abdomen.
"Happy now, Maman?" Francois snorted.
"Yes, much better. Although now it's your hair that's bothering me, it's quite the mess. It's so greasy and knotted; I don't even want to try to brush it."
"You're one to talk. You are saying zhat my 'air's a mess? You should look at yours." He ruffled it with a rough hand, "Zee only zhing zhat changed is zee color."
"Hey! Stop it you. I can't do anything about that." Oliver laughed, "I'm washing your hair though, sweetheart. You have to let me. No debate, my dear." Oliver's tone was sweet, but threatening, with an "I-will-kill-you-if-you-don't-do-what-I-say" subtext.
Francois knew better than to argue with Oliver when he got like this. He was still stubborn as all h*ll. The Frenchman huffed. "Fine." He grumbled.
Ollie smiled, "Good. This won't take long, I promise."
-xXx-
The girls were sitting on the couches in Oliver's den, talking excitedly about the discoveries they had made. Soon, the Brit came into the room, supporting Francois. He looked a little better than before, his torso was wrapped in bandages and his wavy blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail with lose fringe at the front. Oliver sat him down on the same couch as Alexi and Anika, and Alexi scooted closer to the other girl, determined to put as much of a gap between her and the stranger as she could. He slouched in his seat, head downcast.
"I'm going to grab you a clean shirt, pumpkin, I doubt my guests want to see your hairy chest. In the mean time, why don't you get to know each other? I'll be back, one moment." Ollie laid a hand briefly on his shoulder before he disappeared up the stairs.
When he had gone, he studied each girl in turn with his tired, dull blue eyes. His gaze made them all uncomfortable, and Aeris thought he looked like a creeper.
"Do any of you 'ave a cigarette?" He asked. He had a very thick French accent.
"No."
"Sorry, I don't smoke."
Anika shook her head.
He cursed under his breath.
"Did 'e tell you where zee alco'ol is?" He asked a second question.
The girls responded with the same answer of "No" as before.
He huffed and then coughed.
Silence.
"So, you're Francis?" Alexi asked awkwardly, breaking the white noise.
"Francois, actually." He corrected in a slightly snobbish tone, "I was Francis."
Rude.
"Yeah, that's what I meant..." Alexi muttered under her breath.
"Oliver's talked a lot about you." Anika said, "He seems to be pretty fond of you."
Francois shrugged, "'E mentioned you once or twice. Said 'e had guests." His voice was nonchalant and almost monotone, and there seemed to be a certain sadness within it. It was a tone that indicated that he had given up. "Zhough 'e failed to tell me who you were or where zee 'ell you came from." He was clearly disapproved, "All I know is zhat you're not from around and zhat you are simple, normal girls. You clearly 'aven't gone mad like all zee rest of us 'ere. Which surprises moi." He said.
"When Oliver said we aren't from around, he meant we really aren't from anywhere around. We're from Ontario, in 2016." Alex explained.
This caught Francois' attention. "Zee past? Before everyzhing plunged into 'ell?" He asked curiously.
"It's not as bad as this, but it's on the verge of h*ll. Capitals still stand, each country runs it's own, strong alliances still exist. But it still kinda sucks. Resources are slowly running out, terrorism is on the rise-but it isn't completely decimated." Aeris explained.
"I'd razher be zhere zhen 'ere." Francois commented dryly.
Oliver came down the stairs carrying a long-sleeved violet v-neck. "Here you go, love." He handed the shirt to Francois, and the man slipped into it.
"I'm going to go get started on dinner now. You all continue to get to know each other." And with that, Oliver vanished to the kitchen.
When he was gone, Anika turned and looked back at Francois.
"You seem sad," she said to him, "I think you need a hug." She got up and made her way toward him.
"No, zhat's no nece-" Anika's thin arms wrapped around him. He froze, before awkwardly patting her on the back. After a few moments, she let go of him.
"I hope you feel a little better now." She said softly.
All Francois replied with was, "Merci..." Then he said softly to himself, "Just like petit Mathieu..."
When Alexi hear him she automatically thought, "He must be referring to Matthew William's on Oliver's office wall..."
They continued to talk until Oliver called them for dinner.
