Yay, my exams are finished! So now I can once again concentrate on writing. As you will see, I've pinched a storyline from the White Queen, in which Margaret Beaufort tries to propose to Richard to integrate into the Yorkists. I simply couldn't resist using some cougar jokes!

Meanwhile, Angelo and Tychon go on a date, and Gabriel sniffs out some untrue gossip.

"George!" roared Richard, "GEORGE!"

Richard scooped up a rock and tossed it at his brother's window. It struck the window ledge with a thump. The window flung open, and George stuck his dishevelled blond head out.

"What?" he croaked.

"I want some answers and I want them now. What have you done with Anne?" demanded Richard.

"This again?" George rolled his eyes, "I've already told you I don't know what you're talking about!"

"You know very well what I'm talking about!" yelled Richard.

"I don't know anything! The stupid girl has probably run off for a few nights in the city, no big deal. She'll come crawling back when she realises her money is running out. Well. My money. She stole from me."

"Only because you tried to steal from her!" choked Richard disgustedly, "She's not a stupid girl, how dare you refer to her as such. Anne would never run off in the middle of the night for no good reason. What have you done?"

"I said, I haven't done anything!" George yelled back.

"Prove it!" shouted Richard, pacing around on the lawn, "Show me some evidence!"

"Fine!" snapped George, "I'll let you in."

He disappeared from view. Richard marched back over to the front door he'd already rung several times with no success. It flew open, and there stood George in his vest, boxers, and a dressing gown. Richard wrinkled his nose.

"Come this way," grunted George.

"Where are you taking me?" asked Richard, as he stepped into the house.

"Here's security's room," said George, pushing open the door, "They have tapes. One of them shows Anne climbing out the window. She left of her own choice. I had nothing to do with it."

The security guard offered Richard a seat. Richard sat down stiffly. George crossed his arms and leant against the wall.

"Show my brother the tape, Mr…" George trailed off, "What was your name again?"

Richard was mildly horrified to realise George didn't bother remembering the names of his employees. Instead, he focussed as Anne climbed out the window, ran through the garden, and climbed over the wall. He looked for hints it may have been tampered with, but it seemed genuine. Anne was wearing the same green dress and black leggings she had worn at dinner. Her movements, the way she wobbled precariously out of the window, were definitely 'Anne-like.'

"Thank you," said Richard, when the tapes had finished, "Would it be possible for you to copy this onto a DVD, so I have a copy as well?"

"What do you want that for?" George wrinkled his nose.

"To show Ned," replied Richard, "And so I can examine it further to find clues of where she might have gone. Hopefully, I'll find her before she runs into trouble."

"Do what you want," shrugged George, leaving the room.

Richard turned to the man, "Didn't you see Lady Anne leaving that night?"

The security man smiled, "I did, but thought it best not to intervene. Wherever she is, I hope she's far away from him," he jerked his thumb in the direction George had left, "He thinks I was asleep that night."

"I see," Richard pursed his lips, as the tape copied to a DVD.

How he wished he had stayed that night! Perhaps, he could have calmed George down, or changed the topic and distracted him. Or, he could have waited outside in the garden, keeping an eye out for Anne.

'It wasn't your fault, you had a difficult decision to make,' he tried to tell himself, 'How were you to know Ned would be too busy throwing his Greek guests a swingers party to intervene?'

With the tape, Richard thanked him, and made his way back to his car. Upon his arrival at Buckingham Palace, to his surprise, he was greeted by someone he did not usually associate.

"Lady Stafford," said Richard, "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

Margaret Beaufort had been recently widowed, and taken to hanging around the court lately. In particular...with him. Richard was always polite, but her son was that creepy kid, Henry Tudor. There was something about him that unnerved Richard, although he'd never understood what.

"I was sorry to hear that Lady Anne has gone missing," said Margaret, "Is there anything I can do?"

"I don't think so," replied Richard, "But thank you for the offer."

As Margaret walked with him inside the palace, Richard became conscious of several cameras clicking.

"The paparazzi," he frowned, "Have they nothing better to report? 'Duke of Gloucester walks into Buckingham Palace?'"

Margaret politely chuckled, "I remember your makeover pictures."

"Oh yes, those," Richard cringed, "I think next time the girls try to use me as a target, I'll shove George in front."

"Brothers, right?" said Margaret.

"Indeed."

"I wish my Henry had some brothers. I worry that he's lonely. Although, I suppose it isn't too late," mused Margaret, "What do you think?"

Richard knew exactly what he wanted to say. One Henry Tudor is bad enough. But he kept it to himself.

"I suppose not. I'm sure you'll find someone who deserves you to raise a family with," he replied.

"That's true. I don't suppose that you would be interested in-" began Margaret.

"Uncle Richard!" cried a shrill voice.

"Hello, Lizzie!" beamed Richard. He had never been more pleased to see his niece in all his life, "What are you up to?"

Elizabeth ran down the stairs and threw her arms around him. Richard hugged her back, and then scooped her up in a fireman's lift. She squealed delightedly, before bursting into chatter, "Well, me, Mary and Cecily decided to play dress-up, then we decided we wanted to play weddings, and I said I was going to be the bride and they would be my bridesmaids, but we didn't have a groom."

"Oh dear! What are you going to do?" asked Richard.

"Well, you're here now, so you can be my groom!" Elizabeth smiled delightedly.

"That sounds like lots of fun, Lizzie, but I'm actually quite busy now," said Richard, starting to blush, "I've come here to see your dad."

"You always come here to see him," pouted Elizabeth, "Why won't you play with us?"

"At the moment, I'm trying to look for my friend," explained Richard gently, "And she's a very important friend to me. I care about her very much."

"Oh, Lady Anne! I like her, she read me a story and let me use her nail varnish last time I saw her. When will she come and play with us again?"

"I don't know, Lizzie," sighed Richard sadly. He hugged his niece tightly, and kissed her forehead, "Which is why I've got to find her."

"You look nice today. Where are you going?" asked Gabriel, as he lounged on the sofa in his silky dressing gown, flipping through a magazine. Alexei perched on the sofa next to him, cooing every time Gabriel stroked his fair hair. On the opposite sofa, Raiden and Linton were squabbling over which anime they wanted to watch on Raiden's laptop.

"Out," replied Angelo.

"Wait, what? You're going out?"

"Yes, I'm going out. On a date."

Gabriel sat up delightedly, "You have a date?"

"Yes."

"Who is it? Man or woman? Are they hot? Can you bring them back here so I can rate them out of ten?"

"It's early days, I'm not bringing him to meet you all yet," said Angelo.

"Spoilsport," sulked Gabriel, slumping back down.

Angelo shook his head, "Anyway, Gabriel, shouldn't you be getting ready for work?"

"Oh, I swapped shifts with Moreno," Gabriel replied casually. Too casually.

Angelo frowned, "Does Moreno know you've swapped shifts with him?"

"No, but he'll find out," Gabriel glanced up at the clock.

"Gabriel!" scolded Angelo, "Get ready for work at once! Do you want to get fired? The poor man can't keep covering for you!"

"All right, fine!" snapped Gabriel, "Right, while Angelo and I are out, Raiden's in charge!"

"Yes! Time to beat up Linton!"

"Hey!" squealed Linton.

"No fighting!" commanded Gabriel, "I need you to be good and look after your nephew while I go and interpret for some dumbass too lazy to pay attention in their modern languages class. Understand?"

"Yes!" groaned the boys. Gabriel stormed upstairs to get ready, cursing under his breath. Angelo stuck his head back in the living room and looked at both Raiden and Linton.

"You two. Behave!"

"Yes, Angelo!" the boys lied.

Angelo hurried down the streets, hoping he wasn't late. He tried not to run too fast, in case of getting sweaty and ruining his outfit.

What if Tychon didn't like him? What if Tychon had changed his mind and decided he was unattractive? The night they'd spent together, Tychon had seemed to want a short-term fix, but Angelo had refused. What if that was all Tychon was after, and this date was just to placate Angelo?

He could turn around and go back home. Maybe that would be for the best. After all, Raiden and Linton would probably be pulling each other's hair and fighting over which x-box game to play, and Alexei would be drawing on the walls with Gabriel's lipstick. They needed a responsible adult around.

'No. Gabriel's their guardian. He takes care of them. You can have a few hours to yourself, Angelo. How long has it been since you did? And you're being silly, if Tychon wasn't interested, he wouldn't have asked you out in the first place. He liked you when you met during the debriefing. And if it goes badly, you can just go home and forget about it.'

Angelo took a deep breath when he saw Tychon leaning against the wall up ahead. In the sunlight, his red hair glimmered. At that moment, Angelo wanted nothing more than to run his hands through it.

Taking a breath, Angelo forced himself to walk right up to Tychon.

"Hi," he smiled.

Tychon looked up, and beamed at him. He had the most honest and sincere smile on his face. Angelo felt relief flood through him.

"I was starting to worry you wouldn't turn up," laughed Tychon.

"I had trouble getting out the house. My son wanted to interrogate me."

Angelo leant down and kissed Tychon on either cheek, and Tychon did the same. It was chaste compared to the kissing they'd done the other night, but they were in public, and Angelo didn't want negative attention from any bigots passing by. Fortunately, in southern Europe, it was common enough and regarded as 'not gay' to greet other men by kissing them on either cheek.

"So you have children," said Tychon interestedly, once Angelo stood upright.

"I do. Three, in fact. Two daughters and a son."

"Ah, you're so lucky! I always wanted kids. Do you get on well?"

"We have our moments," admitted Angelo, "I'm probably closest with my grandson."

"You have grandchildren too? You look young to be a granddad."

"My son is young to be a father."

"I see," said Tychon, "So...what did you want to do?"

"I don't mind," shrugged Angelo, "I know you said you hadn't been in Verona long, perhaps I could show you the sights?"

"Well, I was thinking since it's nearly midday, we could have lunch and go for a wander?" said Tychon.

Angelo nodded, "Sounds good to me."

Tychon linked his arm through Angelo's and began to walk along beside him. At first, Angelo felt delight at the contact, but then panic. What if people he knew saw him? What if people he didn't know saw him? He tried not to freeze or hold his arm stiffly, so Tychon wouldn't think that Angelo didn't like it, because he did, he honestly did. But he still found he just couldn't relax being affectionate with another man in public.

"Aren't you worried that people might see us?" Angelo eventually asked.

"No," Tychon shook his head, "Why would I be?"

"In case being seen with me, might, um, ruin your career."

"My bisexuality has nothing to do with my career. It does not affect my ability in any way. If anyone tries to judge me for it, then I will sue them," replied Tychon confidently, "Or punch them in the face."

"But-"

"But what? Why should I care what other people think?"

Angelo envied Tychon's attitude. But, as he dwelled upon it, it made sense. Tychon was at least ten years younger than Angelo, and so he'd have grown up in a generation that was a little more tolerant of same-sex relations. And he came from a very different family to Angelo's. His upbringing must have been completely different.

"No. You shouldn't have to," agreed Angelo, pushing his worries to the back of his mind, "How long do you plan to stay in Verona?"

"For a while," replied Tychon, "I have some other things to do, besides the debriefing."

"Oh, really? What have you planned?"

"Well, I have some meetings in several other city states to discuss repayments, and then others wanting to sign new contracts. You know how it is. City states, they're smaller, less manpower, so they're always hiring us to fight their battles for them. But, visiting my niece is one of my top priorities."

"You have family in Verona? I thought you said-"

"Just my niece," said Tychon, "I only have a niece. But, that's another story. Tell me about your family instead."

"Oh, ok," said Angelo, as they walked through the piazza, "I have three kids. Rosaline, Gabriel, and Livia. Rosaline is my eldest. She's graduating Bocconi University this year, and she's predicted to get a First in Economics. She already has some job offers lined up, and she's already made some successful investments with her savings. I'm really proud of her."

"And so you should be!" Tychon nodded.

"Then there's Gabriel, my only son. He's an interpreter. He used to be a ballet dancer, but then there was an earthquake and his company's theatre got knocked down and they can't afford to rebuild it. And he wanted a more regular job with regular hours so he could be with his son. I'm really proud of him. I don't know how he learns them so easily!"

"Oh, I envy him. Learning languages is a pain."

"Tell me about it," said Angelo, "I tried to learn them when I started in politics, but I never had enough time. I'd learn words, then forget them the next day!"

Tychon laughed, "I know the feeling! Kallistrate tried to teach me Italian before we came to Verona, but it usually ended with her banging my head against the table. Once I got here, and had to deal with people speaking it every day, I was able to get to conversational level."

"Sounds tough. Gabe just learns a new one every year. He's an insomniac, so instead of trying to sleep, he takes online courses or watches DVDs. It's been harder for him to do that since having Alexei, because sometimes Alexei will wake up in the night and then Gabe will have to see to him."

"So Alexei is Gabriel's son, right?"

"Yes. He's ten months old, and I adore him. He's my entire world."

Angelo pulled out his iPhone, and showed Tychon a picture.

Tychon cooed, "Isn't he gorgeous? Look at those eyes! Are they purple?"

"That's what we think," said Angelo, "I suppose they're actually blue, but I always think they're purple when I look. It's very rare."

"And I thought I was special for having green eyes."

"Green eyes are quite rare as well," agreed Angelo, "But they're also very beautiful."

Angelo snuck a sideways glance at Tychon. Something about him was familiar, although Angelo still couldn't figure out how. He was sure he knew someone with green eyes like that, but who?

Gabriel stomped back inside the house. His plan to make Moreno cover his shift had gone awry, and he'd been threatened with a written warning! His boss was such an asshole. Didn't he realise that Gabriel had a child, who he wanted to spent time with?

"Go on King Hal!" shrieked Linton at the TV screen.

"Die, Frenchies, die!" yelled Raiden.

"What the hell are you two doing!?"

"Playing Call of Duty: Agincourt!" the boys chirped.

"Hey! That's mine!" yelled Gabriel, "And it's 18+! Turn it off now!"

"Da!" crowed Alexei, as Linton gunned down a French man.

"You let Alexei watch!" gaped Gabriel.

"He's not interested, he's ripping up your magazine," shrugged Raiden.

"You two are going to get it, big time!" Gabriel scooped up Alexei, "There, there, it's just a game the nasty boys are playing."

Alexei cooed delightedly, grabbing a fist of Gabriel's hair and shoving it in his mouth to chew on.

"That's right, Frenchies!" hooted Linton, "Get back in your tank, you cowards!"

"No, Linton, we want them out the tank so we can shoot them!" cried Raiden.

"You two are sickos," said Gabriel, grabbing the torn magazine and leaving the room.

"Takes one to know one!" retorted Raiden.

"Whatever!" Gabriel bounced Alexei on his hip as they walked into the kitchen, "Come on, son, let's get away from the nasty boys and their nasty game."

"You bought it in the first place!" shouted Linton.

Gabriel shook his head, and opened up the magazine to where he had left off, "Oh my god, I love Kylie Jenner's outfit! What do you think, Alexei?"

"Yang yang," gurgled Alexei.

"Me too, I wish I had lips like that," sighed Gabriel. He flipped the page, and did a double take at the next picture.

'Duke of Gloucester – Lady Margaret's new toyboy?'

"Well, angelcakes," remarked Gabriel, "This will be something to show Anne when we have our playdate with Eliseo and Micro later!"

"Ben! Hey, Benny!"

"What is it?"

"Can you run downstairs to the kitchen and grab me a glass of water? Anne's just tossed up."

Benvolio sat upright and pulled on his glasses, "Is she all right?"

"I think so, but some water would help," said Hermia.

"Ok," said Benvolio, throwing his dressing gown around himself, and pattering through Capulet Manor. It was the only time of day that the Manor was completely silent. Tybalt was sprawled on the sofa, still snoring. Benvolio tiptoed past him. The last thing he wanted to wake the grumpy Capulet up.

He fetched Anne's glass of water, and then crept back upstairs. Benvolio had to admire Hermia's protectiveness of her friends and family, but he wondered whether or not she was really doing the right thing. More often than not, Hermia had her heart set in the right place, but not always her head.

But then, in this situation, what was the right thing to do? Benvolio knew they couldn't trust George, he was the problem! He didn't know Richard that well, and hadn't been able to talk to him unless Gabriel was there to interpret. But from what he did know, he seemed like a nice man. Definitely not the sort to let the girl he cared about down. Benvolio would never know exactly what Richard said on Skype the other night, as interpretation of language could be very vague, but surely, he hadn't meant what he said in a bad way…

"Thanks, Benny," said Hermia when he handed her the water.

"What's your plan for today?" asked Benvolio.

"Well, Eliseo's been asking for Micro and Alexei all week so I invited Merc and Ally over with Micro, and Gabriel – don't pull that face!"

"He annoys me," complained Benvolio, "He keeps chasing after me with colour swatches, saying I'm a 'Warm Autumn' person and telling me my undertones are yellow. Beatrix says he's been doing the same to her."

"You're talking to your sister? Makes a change!"

"She's more interesting to talk to these days! Now she's grown out of the crazy fangirl stage."

Hermia just laughed.

Anne emerged from the bathroom. Her eyes were red, and she looked drawn and pale.

"Here, Anne. Ben get you drink," said Hermia, passing it to Anne.

Anne smiled, "Grazie."

She accepted it and moved back into the bathroom.

"I'm worried about her," murmured Benvolio in Italian.

"Why?"

"This is the third time Anne's thrown up!"

"It's probably a bug from the recycled air in the plane, and she's also having to climatize. It's, what, late spring? In England, it still would have been cold, and here, it's already humid."

"How long is she staying here, anyway? What's her plan?"

"She's staying as long as she needs. No questions about it," Hermia folded her arms firmly.

"All right. As long as you don't get in any trouble. As long as you don't get Anne into any trouble either."

"As if I would!"

Later on, Benvolio watched as Eliseo and Micro chased each other around the sofa, whilst Alexei watched them, giggling. He wasn't old enough to walk yet. There were five months between Micro and Alexei, and a year and a half between Micro and Eliseo. Benvolio could already see that Alexei, though the youngest, was almost the same size as Micro.

'He'll be tall, like his grandfather,' thought Benvolio, 'And hopefully much nicer than Gabe...'

"Cute, aren't they?" said Mercutio.

"They are," agreed Benvolio.

"Hey, Anne! I've got something to show you!" sang Gabriel loudly. Both boys looked over.

"What's he saying to Anne?" whispered Benvolio to Mercutio.

"He says he's got something to show her," replied Mercutio.

"Oh dear…" Benvolio muttered.

"Your boyfriend's a toyboy now!" announced Gabriel, "Come see! It's hilarious!"

Benvolio and Mercutio hurried over, to see the torn magazine that Gabriel was flapping about. There was a picture of Richard, walking into Buckingham Palace, alongside Margaret Beaufort. It was the headline that shocked Benvolio.

"Margaret Beaufort?" frowned Anne, "But she's ancient! Ancient, ugly, and fanatical!"

Gabriel choked with laughter, "Meow! Anne comes alive! Just wait till I tell Tudor he's getting a new step-daddy!"

"He's not marrying her, is he?" Anne looked utterly horrified, "He wouldn't, would he? What does it say? Can someone translate?"

"She might be ancient, ugly and fanatical, but she's rich. And since she's older, she'll probably die first, and leave him all her money. Any young man who knows what he's doing in life would be stupid to pass up such an opportunity," said Gabriel.

"And you know, would you not, Gabriel?" Hermia rolled her eyes.

Gabriel blushed.

"Tudor's mum has got it going on! She's all I want, and-" sang Mercutio.

"Merc, shut up! That's not even funny!" commanded Benvolio.

"Anne, ignore magazine," consoled Juliet, "It just coincidence they photo together."

"But what if it isn't?" Anne worried aloud, "You heard him on Skype!"

Anne sat down on the sofa and her shoulders slumped.

"If he's the man you want, then get back on a plane to England and make a play for him. If she's old and ugly, and you're young and beautiful, who do you think he'll be more interested in? Turn up with a full makeover, let him see what he's missing and he'll come crawling back!" Gabriel beamed.

"Gabe, shut up, look not everything. We should just kill George, problem solve," said Hermia.

"What are they saying?" asked Benvolio to Mercutio. Mercutio told him, giggling. Benvolio looked horrified, "No, they're terrible ideas! Tell them, Mercutio, that the magazine is lying and just making up untrue gossip to entertain the masses. And then tell them that they should at least ask Richard for his side of the story before they make any decisions!"

"Benvolio told me he agrees, and we should go to England with machetes to use on George!" announced Mercutio.

Hermia rolled her eyes, "Yeah, we all know that Benvolio really said it's a terrible idea and we should do whichever sensible option he suggested."

"I'm going to call Tudor on Skype and get to the bottom of this," Gabriel continued to giggle.

"You mean you look for other person to wind up," corrected Hermia.

"Can we talk of something else?" cried Juliet desperately.

"He's hooking up with my mum?" Henry stared through the screen, utterly disgusted.

Gabriel nodded eagerly, "Absolutely. I looked it up online as well. Go on the Daily Mail!"

"Excuse me while I vomit," Henry pulled a face, "If he lays a finger on her, I'll run him over in Uncle Jasper's car!"

Gabriel giggled helplessly.

"And anyway, what's the deal with Anne? I heard she'd run away."

Gabriel, although he dearly would've loved to divulge all he knew, remembered Hermia's threat. So he made himself shrug.

"I don't know, if I were Anne and forced to live with that alcoholic joke of a Duke then I'd take his cash and bugger off someplace nice."

Henry giggled. The kid was about the same age as Raiden and Linton. He was a child. And yet, here he was, without his mother, his family torn apart, living in Brittany, his life and personal safety hanging on a thread.

It disgusted Gabriel.

So he started Skype calling the kid to make sure he was all right. Henry seemed to like the attention, and started calling him back. They both liked gossiping about people, so they got on fine.

"So, how was the night out?" asked Henry.

"Oh, the night where we showed Uncle Dickhead around the clubs? Yeah, not bad."

"Uncle Dickhead!"

"What? His name's Benedick and I don't want to confuse him with Benvolio."

"Gabe, you're dreadful," Henry giggled again, "So what's Don Pedro like? Any chance I can win him over to the Tudor cause?"

"Tudor cause? Henry, you're not seriously thinking about claiming the English throne? England sucks. It's got football hooligans and shit food. Moreno at work keeps saying he wants to visit it. I think he's mad."

Henry giggled again, "Mum and Uncle Jasper say it's my birth right."

"Jesus, that again?" Gabriel rolled his eyes, "Well, at any rate, you won't get any support from him. He's contributed enough to the Yorkist cause to give his own country a strain and he's not going to throw that away."

"Why did he even fight for them?"

"Angelo told me it's because his heirs if he dies childless have Lancastrian roots, and he doesn't want English Lancasters helping them to kill him. It's a pretty weak reason if you ask me. We all know the real reason."

"What's that?"

"He seems to be rather infatuated with my ex," Gabriel pulled a face, "Angelo was Deputy when everyone agreed to help the Yorkists, but then he went on sick leave. It was Amparo who put him up to it. But he's deluding himself, seriously. Amparo's such a communist. Why would she get with a prince? That's against her political beliefs."

"I had no idea," replied Henry.

"He's pretty good at hiding it, better than most, but I can spot these things a mile off," said Gabriel, "Oh my god, guess what he did on the night out."

"What?"

"He came up to me, and was all like, 'Your hiatus isn't going to work out, you're going to have to break it off properly if you ever want to move forward'"

"What a loser. He's a thirty six year old prince, starting on a twenty year old."

"I know, right? I'm going to get him back for this."

"You could have a party, and not invite him. Like you did to Edouard," suggested Henry.

"Oh my god, yes, Tudor, you're a genius!"

Henry beamed.