Even Fairy Tale Characters Would Be Jealous

"Home sweet home." Margaret gave a sigh of relief as Richard shut the front door behind them, dropping their suitcases on to the wooden floor with a dull thud. Their flight home from Lake Garda had been delayed and they had finally left Italy three hours later than planned. It was nearing midnight and Margaret was tired, irritated and in desperate need of a cup of tea before going to bed. Noticing that the door to the living room was open, Margaret poked her head into the room and noticed Molly's laptop and medical reports scattered on the living room table. Ah so she'd finally finished them then. Maybe now she can finally relax and have some much needed R and R. I wonder if she'd like another spa day? It couldn't hurt to ask. Margaret's attention was drawn to the fireplace where the last dying embers of a fire flickered and crackled in the grate. That's odd. Charles never leaves the fire burning no matter how low the flames were. Moving further into the room Margaret was surprised to find Molly and Charles sleeping entwined around one another on the sofa under a blanket.

"Is it safe to get any closer?" Richard joked from the doorway. Margaret, who had been quietly observing the couple on the sofa, turned and slapped Richard's arm and sent him a glare. "Oh honestly Richard. Must you be so crude?" Richard chuckled as he watched the sleeping soldiers for a few minutes before gently wrapped an arm around Margaret's shoulders and towed her towards the doorway. "Come on, lets leave them be. This is the first time I've seen Molly sleep peacefully since she got back from Africa. I sure as hell don't want to be the one who pokes the sleeping bear with a stick. Laughing at the absurd image Margaret stopped dead in her tracks and looked back over her shoulder with a contemplative look on her face. Hearing his wife gasp Richard looked at Margaret oddly. "What is it?" Out of nowhere, a brilliant smile lit up Margaret's face as she gently began pushing Richard towards the door all the while trying desperately to stifle her giggles at Richard's protests as he tried, and failed, to be quiet. She might as well have started dancing the Macarena naked at the strange look Richard was giving her when she finally released his arm in the hall. "Margaret, what on earth is wrong with you? Why are you grinning like the Cheshire cat?" Finally getting her giggles under control Margaret smiled up at her husband. "You mean you didn't see it darling?" Richard stared in confusion. He knew he shouldn't have let her have those Martini's on the plane. "See what? I don't understand."

"Molly's hand." Richard's eyebrows disappeared into his hairline as he wracked his brain as he tried to remember if he saw Molly's hand. "What about it? Did she get a manicure? You know how good she is at doing nails, you get her to do yours all the time. She saves you a small fortune." Margaret stared at her husband in disbelief. Did she have to spell it out? "He did it Richard." Richard made a gesture with his hand to indicate that Margaret should continue to enlighten him further. Margaret gave an impatient sigh. Maybe she needed to spell it out after all. "He finally asked her. How could you miss the ring on her finger? Charles asked Molly to marry him and she obviously said yes." Margaret finished excitedly, her eyes sparkling with happiness as she watched her husband process the information before explaining loudly, "Well thank God for that! I don't know how much longer I could have kept that to myself. You know how bad I am at keeping secrets. I've been avoiding conversing with her for weeks in case I let something slip."

"Shuhhhh! You'll wake them up." Margaret whispered. She knew it had been tough for Richard to keep that from Molly. It had gotten to the point where Richard had become reserved and quiet and could barely look her in the eye for fear of spilling the beans. Molly had started to worry that she had done something to offend him. They were interrupted by a sleepy voice coming from the doorway. "What's going on?" Oh bugger! Busted.

In sync both Margaret and Richard turned and looked guiltily at Charles who stood leaning against the door frame with an eyebrow raised. Molly, wrapped in a throw and half obscured by Charles' body, poked her head out from around his arm. "You two look like a pair of teenagers who have been caught sneakin' in past curfew. What have you been up to ay? You both need to work on your volume. Your "whisper voices" as Sam calls them are a bit shit." Margret sent Richard a glare as she tried to work out what to say. Had they been caught out?

"How long have you two been stood there?" Margaret sent a sideways glance at Molly whose left hand carefully hidden under the throw. "We've only just got in," she replied defensively looking to her husband for support. "Haven't we Richard?" Richard nodded, his eyes trailed resolutely on Charles who looked like he was enjoying their discomfort a little too much. Wait a minute. Why were they the ones acting like they'd been caught with their hand in the biscuit tin? They haven't got anything to hide. Deciding to change tack Margaret looked up and smiled sweetly at her son, sending him a knowing look. "Have you both had a good evening? Quiet night in was it?" Molly caught Charles's eye and they started at each other silently communicating with their eyes. How did they do that? Sometimes it felt as though they had an entire conversation with just a few glances. Finally Molly gave a slight nod of her head, both sporting identical goofy grins. With a jerk of his head Charles gestured for Margaret and Richard to come back into the sitting room. As they settled themselves on the sofa Charles took Molly's hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

"Mum, Dad. Molly and I have something we want to tell you." Margaret feigned concern as her eyes flitted back and forth between the two. "What is it? Is everything alright?" There we go, act natural. The trick is to find the right balance of surprise when they tell you. Don't overdo it. Molly was quick to jump in. "No nothing's wrong honest. It's good news really. Well I hope you'll think it's good news. I don't know, maybe you won't." Molly trailed off nervously and looked to Charles for reassurance. Will someone just tell us already! I'm not sure how much longer I can keep this up. Charles sensing the air of frustration finally put them out of their misery. Taking a deep breath he spoke. "Last night I asked Molly to marry me." Yes! I knew it! Wait a minute, what did she say? Focus Margaret. "She said yes!" Margaret let out a cry of joy as she leapt forward and enveloped both Molly and Charles in a hug. "Oh congratulations. I'm so please for you both. It's wonderful news." Richard came forward and hugged Molly. "Welcome to the family Dawesy. I'm glad we haven't scared you off." Molly laughed as Charles kissed her temple.

"Nah I think I'll manage. After growing up with my lot and being around the lads, I'm ready for anything me." Richard grinned. Oh he knew this one was a keeper right from the off. "I think this is cause for a bottle of Champaign." With that Richard disappeared towards the kitchen. Bugger the Champaign I want details. The booze can wait. "Can I see the ring? Charles wouldn't let me see it." Charles rolled his eyes as Molly untucked her hand from under the throw and extended it towards Margaret. Oh my. Her son certainly had good taste. "It's beautiful Molly." The novo style ring featured a gorgeous square cut diamond in a claw setting that if Margaret had to guess, must be at least 2 carats. It was nestled in a tapered bead set band. The diamond twinkled in the light as Molly moved her hand back and forth to admire her new piece of jewellery. It was simple and elegant. Perfect for Molly's tastes. Her boy did good. As Richard came in carrying glasses and a bottle of Champaign Margaret couldn't help pressing for more details as she helped him hand them out.

"So go on then. How did you do it? You wouldn't believe how secretive he's been about it all Molly. He wouldn't tell us a thing. Would he Richard?" Richard chuckled as he winked at Molly and Charles. "Don't mind Margret Molly. She's just miffed that Charles kept her in the dark about how was going to propose. He didn't even show her what the ring looked like. You know how she loves to gossip. Though I too am intrigued to hear how he did it, if only to find out who won our little bet. Margaret thought you might have taken Molly on a romantic stroll in the park but seeing how you aren't too fond of trees, I thought Charles might have taken you for a romantic meal. Maybe cloisters?" Molly laughed at their suggestions as Charles shook his head at his parents. "Well I hope neither of you put money on it because you are both wrong." Margaret gave a sigh of relief. At least they had both got it wrong. She'd never hear the end of it if Richard had been right. Well come on then how did you do it my boy?

"Did we ever tell you about the Rosabaya episode out in Afghan?" Charles asked. Margret shook her head. What did coffee have to do with anything? Noticing the odd looks his parents were shooting him, Charles continued. "Well just before Molly was due to leave for R&R I came ad found her in the med tent. My feelings had started to move beyond just being her CO by then and I was slightly worried something would happen when she went home. So I had to think on my feet a bit to ensure she had something to remember me by." Molly looked at Charles in surprise.

"You never told me that." Charles looked slightly embarrassed as he grinned sheepishly at Molly.

"I couldn't say anything outright could I? I had hoped you'd be able to read between the lines and see how I felt about you. Anyway, I said I had a request of her and sent her on a mission to Regent Street to get me some Rosabaya capsules. I wrote the word on her arm so she wouldn't forget and made her promise to come back to me." Margaret smiled as Charles recalled the moment the dynamics of their relationship changed. As she watched Charles gently brushed a finger along Molly's arm where four words were written in black ink. Leaning forward Margaret gasped as she read the words. "Will you marry me?" She whispered to herself as she looked up to see Molly smiling softly. "That's how he did it? He wrote it on your arm? How romantic." Molly nodded happily.

"Yeah. It kind of was. He came waltzing in whilst I was finishing me reports, all confident and cocksure and says Dawes I have a request just like he did in the FOB. I knew he was up to something. We'd only just brought some capsules so I knew we hadn't run out. He got down on one knee and started writing on my arm. He never said a word mind. He was so cool and calm. Though his hand started to shake towards the end. Me heart was pounding so loud I thought me chest was going to explode. God knows how he felt. Come to think of it you haven't technically asked me Bossman." Molly looked at Charles cheekily as his mouth dropped open in shock.

"Seriously Dawes?"

"Well you are one for bein' all proper and traditional an that ain't ya? I mean you went an asked me dad for heaven sakes." Margaret caught Molly's eye and sent her a wink. With a sigh Charles stood up and held his hand out to Molly. She took off her ring and handed it back to him as he got down on one knee. Clearing his throat nervously Charles focused in on Molly's grinning face, completely oblivious to the fact that Margaret had snuck out her phone to record the proposal. Ohhh Facebook moment. With a slight tremor Charles asked, "Molly Dawes, will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?" Molly burst into giggles as she nodded.

"Yes you muppet. Of course I will." With a sigh Charles pulled her in for a kiss as he placed the ring back on her finger. "For a minute there I wasn't sure you were going to do it Bossman." Laughing Charles replied "Yeah well, lucky for you I'd do pretty much anything for you. I'd even make a prize pranet of myself in front of my parents. It's a good job I love you Dawes." Molly kissed him again and whispered "Ditto."

"Ahh I think I toast is in order." Margaret handed Richard his glass as he stood in front of them. Her earlier tiredness completely forgotten. Fuelled by adrenaline and happiness she was sure she wouldn't be able to sleep even if she tried.

"To Charles and Molly, congratulations. May you have many happy years together."

"Cheers!" The four clinked glasses.

"Oh by the way Mum, that little video is not going on Facebook. You're banned remember. If it weren't for the fact your navigational skills were so shit and you keep getting lost, you wouldn't even have a phone. Much less such a technical one. You're a menace."

"Oh honestly, It was just a bit of fun. It's not my fault she couldn't see the funny side. I was never going to send it." Seeing Molly's confused face Richard filled her in. "At their last book club meeting Carol, who likes to boast of her royal connections to anyone who will listen, decided it would be fun to read Fifty Shades of Grey. In revenge Margaret stole her phone and replaced her contacts with names of celebrities and royalty. At the next meeting, in front of the whole group, Margaret rang her impersonating the Queen. The poor woman sat there thinking she was having a 20 minute conversation with her Majesty and not realising Margaret was in fact in the next room on the other end pissing herself and recording the whole thing. She did try for Barack Obama next but got rumbled on the American accent. Carol wasn't best pleased." Molly snorted with laughter as Margaret blushed in embarrassment. "Oh I might gunna have to tell Nan that one. I can image her doin that to Shazza. Bloody brilliant."

"Thank you dear. I'm glad someone appreciates my humour and is on my side. Stick with me and you'll go far in this family my girl. You're well and truly part of the fold now. You've already been privy to a James tradition." Margaret winked at Molly as she and Charles shared a knowing look. Molly looked back and forth between the two clearly confused. "What's going on? What tradition? Oh God it ain't a cult is it?" Margaret burst into laughter as Charles shook his head in exasperation at Molly's overactive imagination.

"No Molls. Mum's referring to the way I proposed. It's sort of a family tradition."

"What the arm writing? I thought that tradition was started by Sam in the hospital?"

"It was. Who do you think showed him?"

"How did it start then?" Molly tucked her feet underneath her as she waited for Charles to tell the story. She loved it when he shared little anecdotes about his life with Sam. "I've been deployed on and off for most of Sam's life. The first time, he was barely a year old and didn't understand what was going on or had any idea I was away probably. By the time I got home he was walking. Nothing could prepare me for the immense guilt I felt at missing out on such a monumental milestone in his life. The next time, he was much older and was able to understand what it meant when I left.

"Poor Sam. How did you handle that Boss? It couldn't have been easy." Charles smiled reassuringly at Molly. "It wasn't but we made the best of it. The night before I would leave we'd spend that last hour or so before Sam went to bed together. It was our father son bonding time. Strictly no girls aloud. We'd build a fort in Sam's room out of blankets and cushions and spend the night playing games, telling stories and sharing secrets by torch light. It was never anything too serious; I'd make Sam promise to listen to Rebecca, tidy his room and try hard and do his homework at school. I don't think he fully grasped what was going on but enjoyed the idea of being the man of the house. All he really knew was that Daddy had to go away without him and he was petrified that I would never come back. He took some convincing and became quiet unsettled and refused to go to sleep. In the end I found a pen and wrote I love you on Sam's arm and told him to look at it whenever he got sad and remember that Daddy would be with him. The last few times I deployed, Sam would write his own message on my arm just like in the hospital. It would usually rub off so I'd re-write it on the plane home so he wasn't disappointed. It kind of became our own secret form of communication that nobody knew about except us." Margaret sniggered into her glass of Champaign.

"Yes well that was until they accidently wrote on each other in Sharpie." Molly's mouth dropped before she threw her head back and laughed. "How did you explain that to Rebecca?" Charles winced. "With great difficulty, I can assure you. It wouldn't come off for days. She nearly tore me a new one after that."

"I bet she did." Margaret smiled in sympathy. They all knew that Molly had been on the receiving end of Rebecca's temper and knew first hand just how ferocious she could be when riled. "So it was you who started this tradition then?" Richard chuckled as three sets of eyes fell on him. "Actually, thinking about it, I think I'm guilty of starting it." Molly looked at him with interest. "I don't know I'd you've noticed but Charles has always had a thing for words, poems and stories, ever since he was a little boy." Molly sent Charles a smirk. Oh yes it was clear she knew about his love of poetry alright. "He'd devour books and spend hours emerging himself in imaginary worlds and learning the meaning behind new words to extend his vocabulary. Whenever I used to go away on business trips I'd recommend a new book for him to try. I'd write the title of the book on a slip of paper and I'd write a new word on his arm to find. He had until I got back to read the book and try and find the meaning of the word so he could tell me all about it when I got home."

Margaret smiled fondly as she recalled all the hours she spent with Charles tucked away in the library reading stories from far- away places and pieces of poetry he had a knack for learning off by heart. They'd read Dylan Thomas, Wordsworth, Burns, Browning, Shakespeare. Charles was forever reading extracts aloud, sometimes laughing as he stumbled over the rhythm of the verses and trying to figure out how to slip his new word into as many conversations as he could. It's funny but of the countless stories they had read together, it was the poetry that he had remembered the most.

"Ahh so that's where your love of big words and poetry came from then Bossman?" Molly joked as she took it all in. "You wouldn't believe how much time he spent trying to get us to enjoy poetry out on tour. He even made us sit through poetry evenings an all. Though I admit, I quite liked that Welsh bloke though, an Shakespeare weren't so bad either I suppose." Charles grinned in triumph.

"See I knew you'd come around to poetry eventually." Molly rolled her eyes as she grinned at him.

"Whatever you say Bossman, Whatever you say." Margaret sat back and just let their banter flow back and forth. She was forever grateful that Charles had found someone as easy going and quick witted as Molly. She doubted that neither of them would have predicted how their story would have played out when they met on the tarmac at Brize all those years ago. Just like in a fairy tale they had their fair share of ups and downs before they got their happy ending. As a sudden thought occurred she nearly choked on her drink as she burst into giggles.

"Mum you alright?" Margaret waved a hand as she tried to get her breath back.

"Yeah I'm fine. Just thinking that your proposal could have come out of the pages of a Fairy Tale. It's so romantic even the characters would be jealous. That is until I realised that if you look at your story in Fairy Tale terms technically Molly turned out to be the White Knight and Charles was the Damsel in distress who needed to be rescued by a dashing prince. I just had a sudden image of Charles in a princess dress wearing a tiara riding behind Molly on a big white stead and I got a fit of giggles. I'm sorry I think the jet lag and lack of sleep has finally caught up with me." The room was silent as the occupants processed what she had just said. For a split second the room was so silent you could hear a pin drop, before everyone burst into giggles. Molly was the first to catch her breath. "Ahh I can't breathe I'm definitely going to have to tell the lads that one when I get back Bossman."

"Don't you dare Dawes. That's an order."

"ohh what you gunna do Boss? Get your Fairy Godmother to turn me into a pumpkin?" At that Molly burst into laughter again. Charles shot a glare at his mother. Margaret grinned innocently at her son as she fought to get her giggles under control. As he caught her eye she could see he was fighting not to smile. He knew when he first met Molly what she could tear you apart with her quick tongue and sharp wit. As Charles watched as Molly and Richard fell into hysterics, Margaret knew that no matter what was to happen, Charles wouldn't change their relationship for the world. Together they would write their own fairy tale; everyone would just have to sit back and play their roles as they threw the rule book out the window along the way.

A/N:

All Rights belong to Tony Grounds and the BBC. Thanks to everyone who continues to review and comment on this story. It is always appreciated. For those of you who have been wondering who Margaret is like, I was watching an episode of Miranda and it suddenly hit me that I pictured Margaret a bit like Miranda's mum Penny. I hadn't intended her to be that way but I love their banter and her humour and eccentric ways.