Francis isn't there when her eyes open, her hand reaching out and meeting cold sheets, meaning he left their bed hours ago. She squints at the clock, it's only ten thirty. Mary sighs loudly, a sad feeling settling itself in her stomach, she should have known last night was too good to be true. That he wouldn't come home officially, nothing is fixed, nothing will be fixed until they can sit and talk about it.
She lies there for a few minutes before deciding to get up, throws the blankets back and pads downstairs. She doesn't see him or hear him, his shoes aren't by the door.
He isn't here. The sad feeling in her stomach gets heavier, twisting and turning and making her uncomfortable.
She screams loudly when she runs into someone turning in the kitchen.
"Good morning to you too, damn!"
"Francis!?" She shouts, clutching her chest as she tries to catch her breath, gasping. He's looking at her like she's insane. "I thought you left."
"You thought wrong." He smirks as he reaches a hand out to pat the top of her head, "Silly Mary, I was about to come and wake you." He tells her as his hands find her waist and he's guiding her to the kitchen. "I had some very filthy things in mind." He whispers that in her ear and she's about to ask what when she feels the edge of the table digging into her back.
"What are you doing?" She asks, but he doesn't answer, he just eases her up onto it.
"Greer called, she said Anne is still asleep but we can get her whenever."
"We?"
"Yeah?" He questions, "Well, I suppose just you, Greer will probably have some questions. Your friends are very nosey."
"They're your friends too." She tells him as she plays with a strand of his hair, "Let me down."
"No."
"Please?"
"No." He whispers, lips barely a breath away from her own and she only realizes after she lurches forward that that is exactly what he was wanting her to do. He doesn't waste any time deepening it, locking her in a kiss that makes her dizzy as she clings to him, legs going around his waist tightly, fingers in his hair. She's missed him but, oh, she's really missed this. She smiles against his lips, she barely notices his fingers climbing up her thigh, fingertips barely touching her skin. When they reach her back, he pushes her closer to him a little rougher than he meant to, the action making her gasp.
He keeps the merging of their lips slow, a dull simmer like they have all day; but then he's pulling away and stepping back.
"Okay, go get dressed." He tells her and she blinks at him.
"No." She says.
"No?"
"No." She says again, this time grabbing him and pulling him back to her, not giving him time to react before she's pushing his lips back to hers.
-/-
He's there when she picks up Anne and brings her home. Her daughter's tiny fingers reaching for him as soon as she sees him and...that's really that. Anne probably wouldn't notice if Mary burst into flames as long as Francis is here.
She's doing the dishes as she listens to him talk to her, seated at the table, watching her eat her apple sauce.
"Can I have a bite?" He asks her, poking her side.
"No." She tells him and he scoffs.
"No?"
"No."
"Can mommy have a bite?"
"No."
"Why?" He asks with a tilt of his head, poking her side again. "Sharing is caring."
"Mine."
"Well," He says as he stands, "I'll remember that next time you want something of mine."
"No, you won't," Mary says dryly.
"You're right, I won't." He smirks as he kisses the top of her head, but when she realizes he's walking away from her, she makes a pitiful noise as she reaches for him, "Just a second, sweetie." Mary laughs, but quickly swallows it when he grabs her by the waist and spins her around, successfully pinning her between him and the counter.
"You." He says with a grin.
"Me."
"I want to take you out tonight."
"Tonight?"
"Yes."
"Where?" She asks softly but, okay she knew he wouldn't answer that. He just smiles as he presses a soft kiss to the tip of her nose.
"Just say yes."
"No, I don't know where-"
"Mary."
"Francis."
"Say yes." He says again and she sighs heavily.
"We need to ta-"
"Mm, almost darling yes starts with a Y."
"We should really talk-"
"I know, I know, but first I want to spend time with you so," He says, "For the love of God say yes." She opens her mouth, laughs when he makes a face because it's Francis and he knows she's going to protest a little more.
"Fine." She says on another sigh, "I'll go...out with you."
"Gonna need a little more enthusiasm than that."
"Yes," She smiles, "Better?"
"No, but I'll take it."
-4 Months Ago-
They don't talk about what happened, not much. They went about it thinking if they pretended it didn't happen it would hurt less and now, two months after the fact, he's acting like it almost didn't; while Mary's pregnancy app tells her the baby would be the size of a lemon today. But there's no baby, so no lemon.
There's nothing.
She stares at her phone screen as she brushes her teeth, reading about all the things she can be expecting with her lemon baby. He'd be able to squint, move his little arms and legs. Mary would have been showing by now, the tiniest of bumps. There's nothing but flat stomach when she touches it though because she's not pregnant anymore.
"Hey," Francis' voice makes her jump, causing her to shove her own toothbrush right down her throat and her phone clatters to the floor as she coughs and spits into the sink. "I'm so sorry." He's trying not to laugh as he rubs her back. "Are you okay?"
"Fine." She says as she wipes her mouth, "No-" It's too late he's already picking up her phone from where she dropped it on the floor, the app still open. His amused smile fades when he sees it but he doesn't say anything as he hands it back to her, just presses a kiss to her cheek and then he's turning to leave the room.
"I was going to delete it.." She tells him, "But...I couldn't bring myself to…" Francis stops, turns around and he just looks at her.
"A lemon, huh?" He smiles sadly.
"Yeah." She whispers it, tears hitting her eyes; if he keeps looking at her like that she might cry enough to fill the bathtub, "Our little lemon." She cries softly and then he's heading for her, arms going around her body tight, let's her bury her face in his neck. This is the first time she's cried about it since it actually happened, told herself so much that if she pretended it didn't happen, then maybe she could convince herself that it didn't.
"Oh, baby, I know…" He whispers, rocks her gently, "It's okay, it's alright." She can barely hear him over her own soft cries, he'll have to change his shirt after this, but he doesn't let her go. He just holds her tight, shushes her, soothes her. This is the most contact they've had in two months, physical or otherwise.
She wouldn't let him touch her after. She doesn't even know why, it wasn't just sex, it was simple basic touching, like a kiss to the cheek that would make her pull away. She's never felt more disconnected from someone in her entire life and it kills her. She pulls away after a little while, wipes at her eyes as she turns back to the bathroom sink.
"Mary-"
"I have to…" She sniffles, running her hands over her face and running them under warm water, "Get ready for work, Francis." She tells him softly, voice hoarse from crying as she tries to swallow it down.
"Can we talk later?" He asks with a sigh, looking at her so sadly, "If you're not home too late, I mean."
"About what?" She asks as she walks out of the bathroom, checking the time. She regrets asking it, she knows what he wants to talk about. Their baby that should be the size of a lemon, that should be squinting and moving around in her stomach. He gives her a look and then just shakes his head.
"You know what, nevermind." He says softly.
"Francis!" She calls for him as he walks away, turning down the hall to head for Anne's room.
"You have to get ready or you'll be late." She hears him call back and that's the end of that. She gets ready and she leaves.
-/-
Mary doesn't come home until later, house dark when she goes inside, she kicks off her shoes and tiptoes upstairs. She goes to Anne first, hasn't seen her kid all day, pulling her blanket up more, strokes her cheek. She smiles when she stirs, stretching but she doesn't wake and then she's heading to their room. The door is cracked but it's dark, she hears his soft breathing as she tiptoes inside, closing the door with a soft click. She tries to be quiet as she changes into one of his shirts and a pair of leggings and then she's sliding in bed.
"It's late," Francis tells her, voice soft, he doesn't turn to her though, stays facing away from her.
"I know what time it is." She sighs as she lies down, he turns now, reaching for her. She scoots a little closer so he can drape his arm over her waist, toying with the hem of her shirt. "Sorry." She says softly.
"I didn't expect you home early, Mary," Francis mutters. She has no idea if he meant that the way it sounded but she doesn't say anything. "No reason to apologize."
"Francis-"
"I love you." He tells her, "I feel like you don't know that."
"I know…" She says softly and it's quiet for a little while, she hardly expects the next thing he says, but she feels like maybe she should have.
"I want another baby." Her stomach flips and she looks up at the ceiling, "Mary-"
"I heard you."
"I know we haven't talked about it since...but I thought I should tell you." He says softly, "I can't stop thinking about it, but if it's too soon. I can wait, Mary. We don't have to-"
"No, I…" She shakes her head, "It's been barely two months, Francis."
"Which is why I said we can wait, I can wait."
"But you don't want to wait."
"Mary-"
"What if I can't?" She asks softly, "What if...after Anne the doctors said it might be harder...what if I can't have another one?"
"You got pregnant once, you can get pregnant again."
"No, but what if they keep dying?" It flies out of her mouth, she looks at him and he looks at her. God, there's too much sadness in this bed. It's almost suffocating.
"It was one time-"
"Hm. One time." She says, "Does it matter less?"
"That's not what I meant." He says, voice taking on a tone she doesn't recognize but she looks away from him, so she doesn't see his expression, "Of course it matters."
"Doesn't sound like it does, then again you didn't have to walk around for four extra weeks of morning sickness, mood swings, and cramps because your body still thought it was pregnant, so why would it?"
"That is not fair." He snaps, he's sitting up now, "It was my baby too, Mary."
"I don't want to do this right now."
"Oh, what you make a comment like that and suddenly you don't want to do this right now? Really?" He asks and then he gets up.
"Where are you going?"
"To go look for my wife, I seem to have misplaced her." He says, "There's a cold woman in my bed and she wouldn't like that."
"Francis."
"If you need me I'll be downstairs." He tells her and then he heads for the door, but the soft little cry that escapes her throat gives him pause.
"Francis, please don't go…" She cries, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry."
"We made that baby together and I know I can't possibly begin to understand what that must have been like for you physically, but you don't get to decide that it didn't kill me to see you like that, that losing it didn't matter to me because it did, Mary, it did."
"I know, Francis, I know...I'm sorry." She reaches and he climbs back in bed with her, he wipes her tears and he holds her while she cries.
-/-
It's a week later, a nice day out and they decide to go for a walk. Anne is with Catherine all weekend, she doesn't get to see her that often so when she does she usually spoils the little thing to death. They're doing better now, since that night. He hasn't brought up another baby since though. She lets him touch her, only a little, still a bit of distance there, but they're working on it.
Halfway through their walk, however, it decides to rain, hard. He tightens his grip on her hand and starts to run, she barely keeps up, but he keeps his hold on her fingers and by the time they get inside the house, they're both soaked and dripping wet.
He smiles at her as he tosses a towel her way, using another to dry his hair. By the time she gets the towel off of her face where it landed she sees Francis lifting his shirt off and wringing the water out onto the floor. And okay, she should definitely be scolding him for wringing it out on the living room floor but she's too busy staring at the water droplets clinging to his skin, rolling down his chest and down, down, down.
The man looks so good soaking wet, he should probably be arrested. It's not fair, she's going to actually pass out.
"Francis." She says softly and he looks up with a soft "Hm?" And she doesn't realize she's doing it until she's doing it, all she knows is she needs him...like yesterday. Her lips are on his before she realizes she moved, hard, hot, needy and he makes a surprised sound but doesn't stop her. He returns it with just as much fire as she gives.
"Okay." She says softly, pulling back for a second and he gives her a questioning look, "Let's try."
"Try, what?"
"Let's have a baby." She whispers it, soft, like the words are made any less impactful with the volume at which they're said. She thinks she means it, she feels like she does. She was waiting for the closeness, the fire, that stupid spark and here it is. So they should try. Right?
"Yeah?"
"Yes." She says, and he smiles as he closes the gap between their lips, this meeting of mouths is softer, slower and he runs his fingers through her soaked tangled mess of hair. It's only after when they're lying together that she realizes she probably shouldn't have said that, she probably shouldn't have suggested it because now her stomach twists with uncertainty, she knows she isn't ready. She knows, but Francis, he's pressing warm kisses to her skin and looking at her so fondly.
She can't change her mind, she can't backpedal, so what the hell is she supposed to do now?
-Present-
He doesn't say anything as he drives, hand warm on her thigh, Anne is sleeping in her car seat. She has no idea where the hell he's taking her, he hasn't talked since they left the house.
"Francis, we should find time to talk." She says softly but he shakes his head. "Francis."
"I hear you." He says, "And as I said before, we'll get to it, but right now I am taking my two favorite girls to dinner. So, hush now, talk later."
"Hush now, talk later?" She questions, quirking an eyebrow at him, "What if I don't want to hush now?"
"Well, Mary, I can't make you do anything you don't want to do but I can tune you out." He smirks, "So, say whatever you want, I won't be listening."
"Francis."
"No, no, don't Francis me."
"Francis."
"Stop." He says, "We had a good day today, don't ruin it with your worrying." He tells her softly and she leans back in her seat, decides to drop it for now. They'll talk eventually, it's not like Paris, they can't let this go undiscussed.
"We did have a good day."
"Yes and if I'm remembering correctly, you had a very good morning." His hand leaves her thigh to grasp her fingers, tugging her hand so he can press a kiss to it and then he keeps hold of it as he drives.
"Maybe." She smiles, earning a smirk from him because he knows damn well how good her morning was. Her fingers leave his to travel to his hair, it needs to be trimmed. Even though she likes it this long, likes her running her fingers through it, so unfair that his hair is softer than hers. She's too busy toying with it to realize the car has stopped and he's pulling the keys out of the ignition.
"Oh, we-" She's interrupted by his lips, pressing softly against her own and when he pulls back, she tugs him back to her. It was over too quickly, but she has to be careful, their child is in the backseat.
"Playing with fire, my love." He teases when he pulls away, running his thumb over her bottom lip. "Save that for later." She rolls her eyes, but smiles. "Okay, wake her and I'll go get us a table."
"Okay." She says softly as he gets out.
-/-
It feels like it has been ages since they've been able to do this. Since he's been able to joke with her, but he smiles as he helps Anne color on her placemat, a stack of empty plates in the middle of the table.
"Okay, princess." He says softly, "What color is this one?" He asks, holding up a crayon, just barely out of her reach and he pulls it back just a little when she almost gets it, tiny two-year-old fingers reaching desperately.
"Mine." She says and he squints at her.
"I believe the answer we were looking for was blue." He says with a tiny smile but he hands it over anyway. "Our child only knows the word mine, we failed baby."
"She's two, Francis." Mary giggles as she watches her. "And she knows plenty of other words." She smiles.
"You're right." He says, "She really likes to say no." He smirks, "Which will come in handy when she's older and boys, who will never be good enough for her, start sniffing around."
"Francis, she's going to date."
"Hm. No." He smirks, running his fingers through Anne's curls, and then he's looking at Mary.
"What?"
"You're so pretty," He says, "I am going to make unashamedly loud love to you later." And she damn near spits out her water.
"Francis Valois there is a two-year-old sitting next to you!" She scolds, trying really hard not to laugh, though she's sure her face is a million different shades of red right now. He's about to say something else but his phone rings.
"I have to take this." He says softly, he picks up Anne and sets her in Mary's lap, handing her another crayon before walking outside. Mary distracts her the best she can, if Anne noticed he left, she doesn't show it. She's too busy playing with the crayon he gave her.
"Mary?" A voice questions and she straightens in her seat. She knows that voice. It's Louis and she looks around to make sure Francis is outside. She doesn't know what he'll do if he comes back and Louis is over here.
"Uh...what are you-"
"Job interview." He says, looking at Anne with a sweet smile, "Is this your daughter?"
"This is Anne." She tells him, eyes darting to the door when someone walks in, thankful it wasn't Francis. Anne makes a soft sound, turning to bury her face in Mary's neck and then she's standing. "I can't…" She says, "I can't talk to you."
"You can talk to whoever you want." He says it like he's offended for her, as if Francis forbade her of it or something, "He can't control who you have a conversation with."
"If he comes back and you're where you're standing right now I really don't know what's going to happen." She says and it's not to be threatening by any means, she genuinely doesn't know what he'd do and there's a lot of people here. And she cannot afford to bail her husband out of jail. She's grabbing her things now, not bothering to tug her coat on, they were about to leave anyway so most of it's already gathered and ready. "I'm sorry I indirectly got you fired."
"Oh, so it was you."
"I'm gonna go now." She says softly and then she's headed for the door, getting halfway to the car when she realizes he followed. "Stop following me!" It's a loud snap, honestly, does the man want to get his ass kicked? Anne makes whines, it turns into a cry as Mary turns around.
"She dropped her toy." He says slowly as he hands over the little plush bunny. He tries to hand it to Anne but she just buries her face in Mary's neck again and cries louder. She doesn't like strangers. Mary takes the bunny, shushing her softly. He opens his mouth to speak, but he's interrupted.
"Hey, what the hell are you doing?" It's Francis, he's between them in a flash. "You need to back up."
"Francis, we're fine," Mary says quickly.
"Do you get off on harassing women because that's all you've been doing to my wife since you got off the plane."
"Okay," Louis scoffs, "It's not like I knew she was coming here."
"Guys." Mary says, "Francis come on…"
"True but you chose to follow her out into the parking lot."
"Because your kid dropped something and I was giving it back."
"Francis." She tries saying his name more sternly.
"Mary, take Anne to the car, please."
"No."
"Now." That's a snap, harsh, he gives her a look but he soon goes back to Louis and Mary doesn't move.
"Do you bark orders at her like that all the time or is it just for show?"
"Excuse me?"
"She's a woman, not a dog." He says, "You should treat her with respect." Oh, he shouldn't have said that.
"I'm sorry, can you just go ahead and explain to me how...shoving your tongue down her throat and holding her there when she was clearly uncomfortable, was respectful?" Francis tilts his head, genuinely curious and Mary steps back, still trying to soothe Anne.
"I apologized for that."
"He apologized." Francis looks at Mary, "As if that makes his tongue any less forced down your throat."
"Francis, can we please just go?" She pleads and he almost, almost, goes to the car with her but Louis decides to open his mouth again.
"I may have done some questionable things but at least I didn't leave her." He says, "Twice, but who's counting?" Francis turns back around, "If she were mine nothing in this world would make me want to be away from her, nothing." He doesn't say it to him, he says it to Mary.
"She isn't yours. She's mine." Francis tells him, "And I should break your hands for even thinking about touching her."
"Oh, I think about touching her plenty." Oh, no. He's doing this on purpose, he wants Francis to do something.
"Francis, please." She pleads, reaches for his hand with her free hand but he's way too pissed now. "Please, please I want to go home."
"What did you just say?"
"I think you heard me." It happens too quickly for Mary to intervene, a fist meets a jaw with a crack, followed by a grunt and Francis tells her again to get in the car as more fists meet more body parts. She doesn't argue this time, tucks Anne's head in her chest as she heads for the car, making sure her screaming child doesn't accidentally see her father and some stranger beating the hell out of each other in a parking lot. Oh her baby is going to be scarred for life.
"Stop it!" She screams at them as she sets Anne in her car seat, positioning her body to make sure she can't's see. They don't hear Mary.
She really hates men right now.
"Anne, baby, look." Mary smiles as she grabs for the pink elephant plush on the floor. "We were looking for this!" She gasps, trying to distract her. She looks over her shoulder, rolling her eyes because this always seems to happen. First Francis and James and now Francis and Louis.
She shrieks though when she sees Louis is armed with a glass bottle. The sound tearing through her throat, another tearing through her when he slams it over her Francis' head. That makes them stop, that and the owner of this fine establishment, who runs out to stop them. She closes Anne's door as Francis comes up to them, shaking glass out of his hair, she's surprised he's still standing.
"I'm sorry, that was stupid." He's saying, "And immature, and good god never scream like that in my presence again-"
"Are you okay!?" She asks cupping his face, "Are you hurt?"
"I'm fine." He says softly, kisses the tip of her nose, and then he's looking past her. "Oh, my poor baby." He coos, heading for Anne.
"Francis, give me your keys." She says, reaching her hand out, "Now." He does, giving her one last apologetic look as he heads for the car.
A/N: Sorry this took so long. Also if there are any errors, I apologize. Thanks for reading :)
