James is asleep and Francis was home at a reasonable time tonight. She's not sure how this started though, but he's shushing her between kisses and soft giggles. She's pretty sure she started it since she's hormonal and wants to kiss him every second of every day.

"James-"

"Sleeping."

"Okay, but his door is literally right over-" She's cut off by his mouth and laughs softly against it, "Stop interrupting me."

"I wouldn't have to if you just-" Kiss. "Stopped-" Kiss. "Talking." This kiss is longer and she swallows her giggles to part her lips so he can deepen it. She's shifting in his lap a moment later and pressing herself to him until he's pulling her closer. His hands stay on her hips though, occasionally one will come up to sweep her hair behind an ear when it falls back in her face. She wants them everywhere but he doesn't seem to get that, no matter how many deep sighs and soft rolls of her hips she gives him.

"Francis." She says when she pulls back, much to his dismay. "You know you can touch me, right?" He drums his fingers on her hips like he's thinking about it.

"Do you want me to?"

"Please?" She's not trying to sound needy or clingy or something but, the last time they really did anything like that was when they had to go get James. He doesn't say anything, he just presses soft kisses to her cheek and then her neck and then back up until he's at her ear.

"Be careful what you wish for." He whispers that before his arm tightens around her and he's pulling her down. It's a soft squeak and then the breath of a laugh before she's pressed under him and clinging to his shoulders.

"Hi." She giggles.

"Hi." He smiles and it's a second before he's shushing her, pressing his lips to hers and then to her cheek and down her jawline, to her neck. It gets a little more serious now, as he leaves wet kisses on her skin and his hands go up her shirt. She breathes a tiny laugh when the pad of his thumb ghosts over her ribs, leaving a small ticklish sensation in its wake.

"That tickles." She giggles softly and he pulls back to look at her, quirking a brow and she remembers that he told her to be quiet like two seconds ago. "Right. Quiet time." He just leans back in to kiss her and she lets him, relaxing under him as his hand leaves the skin under her shirt to start unbuttoning it. She grabs his wrists.

"Here?" Is the squeak that comes out of her mouth and he pulls back a little.

"Uh." He looks confused, "Do...do you not-"

"No, I...not here." She whispers, she definitely doesn't want the first time they do this far to be on the couch a few feet away from their kid. She's sitting up now, pushing him off, sending a glance over her shoulder at the bedroom door that's still shut. She's halfway through buttoning up her shirt when it opens, however.

"Is it morning already?" Francis asks sarcastically, but he's smiling at the boy with messy brown curls.

"No, but you're acting like it is." James snaps and she has to bite her lip to keep from laughing at what that does to Francis' face. His eyebrows shoot up and his smile disappears.

"Pardon?" His voice has also changed too and she feels for James, she wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of that. "You want to rephrase that?" It's quiet and Mary is digging her nails into Francis' thigh, a soft request not to yell at him leaves her lips.

"Sorry." He says softly with a tiny pout and if Francis wasn't still half on her, half off, she'd be hightailing it over there.

"I'll let it go since we woke you." Francis tells him but his tone is still slightly angry, "Go back to bed." He utters another sorry and then the door closes and now Mary's pouting at him too.

"Go hug him." She whines it.

"No, that was rude?"

"Franciiiiisss-"

"Stop it." He says but then he rolls his eyes when her pouting intensifies and he kisses her before standing up, "James!" He's calling for him softly as he enters his room and closes the door.

-/-

They're giggling on the way out of the venue, both of them erupting into loud laughter when Mary almost trips on her dress. He has her though and eventually they make it to the cab parked waiting. She wonders if Leeza will be angry when she realizes how early they left, but they'll make it up to her tomorrow at the wedding.

"Francis wait-" She giggles, "My skirt is caught in the door." She tugs on it as he reaches to open her door again, she pulls it inside.

"Where are your shoes?" He asks when he sees that she's barefoot and she has a mini heart attack before she realizes she's holding them. And then she's laughing a little too hard about it, when makes him laugh too and she wonders if their driver is annoyed or if he's used to it.

His hands are all over, roaming over the open back of her dress, up the slit in her skirt, over the pale expanse of her shoulders and she scoots closer to him until she's pretty much in his lap, lips on his.
It's more giggling than it is kissing but they don't really care right now. Or maybe it is more kissing than it is giggling because before she notices, the cab driver is clearing his throat and they're in front of their house. She leaves Francis there and heads for the house, tripping on a tree root and almost falling over, but she catches herself and once Francis is done paying for their ride, he's looking at her in a way that makes her want to run.

And run she does. As much as she can in this dress, he's right on her heels but she makes it inside first, and he's on her before she can even turn on the lights. He presses her into the door, using her body to close it and she tosses her heels on the floor. She uses his shoulders as a launching pad, lifting herself to wrap her legs around his waist.

She almost sends them both down with a shriek and a few giggles but still.

"Don't drop me." She breathes against his mouth. "Francis-" His name is clipped on a squeak when he suddenly moves back and she quickly wraps her arms around his neck.

"Calm down, I'm not going to drop you." He assures her and she only believes him when he's setting her down on the island. "See?" He asks as he kisses her. He tastes like champagne and wine and various amounts of alcoholic beverages that are probably contributing quite a bit to their behavior right now.

"You're drunk." She giggles.

"You're drunk." He counters.

"Okay, we're both drunk." She tells him as she runs her hands over his chest and around his shoulders, chewing on her lip. "What do you want to do now?" He doesn't even need to think about it before his fingers are crawling up the slit in her skirt and finding the skin of her thigh. She shifts and scoots, a little longing groan escapes her mouth when his hand slides farther up and dips where she wants him.

"What if...I don't want to do that?" She asks softly, but her voice is betraying her, she sounds like she'd rather die than not do that.

"Then say no." He smirks, "Tell me to stop." He's almost daring her to as she melts into him and she swallows hard as she presses her forehead against his and focuses on what he's doing to her. He keeps his touch light, thumb pressing featherlight circles against clothed flesh, she's gripping his shoulders. Her hips move once, jerking towards him and he seems to find it a little funny, but she wants more than the light touches he's giving her.

"Francis." It's a halfhearted whine, caught on a heavy breath when he ups the pressure. She pulls him closer, catches his mouth in something more animalistic than the soft, giggly kisses from before and that seems to get them going. Soon, she's clinging to him, brows furrowed, eyes squeezed shut, and her mouth open as various amounts of noises come out and he's whispering encouragements in her ear.

"Can we go to bed now?" She asks when she's breathless and buzzing and tense against him. Her question makes him frown as he pulls back enough to shake his head at her. "Why?" Surely he knows she isn't talking about actually sleeping.

"Because I'm not done yet." He tells her simply as he pushes up her skirt to expose her creamy thighs and she almost tells him they can do this upstairs, in a bed, with blankets, but she forgets how to speak when he drops down. Her gasp when he pulls her to the edge of the counter makes him laugh, but that's quickly quieted when her knees are over his shoulders and mouth meets flesh.

-/-

Francis doesn't come back until she's crawling in bed. He closes the door with a soft click.

"All better?" She asks with a quirk of her brow and he sighs as he crosses the room, "The attitude was astounding."

"Glad you think so." He says, "Because he gets it from you."

"What? No, he doesn't." She frowns and he squints at her because, how would she really know if he was telling the truth or not. "I suppose it's possible."

"Suppose?" He gives her an incredulous look and she shrugs. After a while, when they're both in bed, things do get kind of serious as she rolls over to look at him.

"Can we go see where my mom is buried?" She asks softly and she sees his eyes in the dark when he looks at her. She was supposed to go with Lola the other day before she found out she was pregnant, and she'd really like to see it at least once. "And Aylee?" She doesn't even know if he knows where she's buried, she doesn't think she knew him yet when she died.

"Yeah." He nods, "Of course."

"Okay."

"Is it hard to remember that they're gone?" He asks suddenly, softly, but she nods. It is, since she doesn't remember them dying and her grieving them, it's hard to remember that she can't just call them up on the phone.

"Sometimes I feel like this is a weird dream and I'll wake up at my mom's." She tells him honestly, "And I'll walk to work or school. I'll live like none of this happened and you'll just be a weird figment of my imagination."

"A figment of your imagination."

"I'd probably wish you were real." She whispers that honestly, "Because you're very pretty." He's very pretty and if this were a dream, if she woke up tomorrow only to discover that none of this was real, she'd probably be obsessed with finding him. Because he can't just not be real. What she says makes him laugh though and she laughs too because at the end of the day, he's very real and he's hers.

"Well, thanks." He smiles, "You're very pretty too."

"Am I prettier than Olivia?" She doesn't know why she asks it, they haven't talked about her in a while, or what happened and yet, here she is bringing her up.

"Yes."

"Hm." She yawns, "Good." She mutters. "Question." She says as he tightens the blankets around her and she scoots closer to him.

"Answer."

"I didn't finish college, did I?" She asks softly. She noticed his degrees- yes, degrees- on the wall of his office, but she didn't see hers' anywhere in the house.

"No." He tells her, "You dropped out to help your mom right before we got engaged."

"And you didn't stop me?"

"I tried." He says seriously, "You were determined."

"And I never went back?" He shakes his head.

"We got married and then we got a house and then we had James and things just kept happening." He shrugs. She doesn't say anything, she's a little disappointed in herself for quitting.

"What if...I want to go back?"

"Then go back."

"I thought for sure you'd say no to that." She sounds a little surprised at it, but he just shrugs.

"Well, maybe not with the baby coming, but after that. I can't really stop you, and I want that for you." She remembers what she went for, she'd have to start all over. She wanted to be a counselor, a psychologist. She wanted to help people who were struggling with drugs or alcohol or were struggling with addict parents or family members. You know, since she had so much experience in that.

"But what about you-"

"I don't see how this has anything to do with me."

"You wouldn't be able to work so much." She tells him and he just shrugs.

"Give me a reason to take a break, please."

"I'll think about it." She says softly as she scoots closer and puts her head on his shoulder. He wraps an arm around her.

-/-

James emerges from his room looking paler than he did the day before and when Francis goes to feel his head, he just groans.

"You're warm." Francis frowns as he smooths the little boy's hair back, "Are you feeling okay, buddy?" The answer is not in the form of words, it's in the form of yesterday's dinner, coming out of his mouth in a small gag and splattering all over his father's shoes.

"Sorry…" He chokes.

"That's alright." He says softly and then he sighs as he steps back and the squish of his foot making contact with the contents of their child's stomach is enough to make Mary gag too. She'd like to think that she has a pretty strong stomach; considering how often she's had to clean up her mom's vomit, but she's pregnant, and now she's running off to the bathroom and she's puking too.

"Mary?" Francis is calling for her, "Okay, well, when you're done with that." She hears him sigh again and it sounds heavier. She rejoins her little family in the kitchen after she wipes at her mouth and cleans herself up a bit. There's a towel on the floor to cover the vomit and his shoes are on the counter. Francis gives her a worried look as he grabs something to clean it up but she just waves it off. Baby doesn't like vomit, no one does.

"Where's-"

"I sent him to go change." He says and Mary nods as she heads to him. He's just sitting on his bed, looking tired and under the weather.

"You don't feel good?" She pouts as she closes the door and he shakes his head, "That's okay." She says softly as she goes to his dresser and pulls out a clean shirt and then she's crouching down in front of him. She lifts the vomit-covered one off with ease and then pulls the clean one over his head, pulling his arms through the sleeves. She looks over momentarily to see the door is being eased open.

"James," Francis says softly, "Go back to bed, you're not going to school." The kid doesn't argue with that and he just flops back over on his bed, eyes fluttering shut as Mary pulls the blanket around him. She joins Francis a moment later in the kitchen, scrubbing his shoes, he has a different pair on now and she frowns because she thought he'd stay home too.

"You're leaving."

"I have to." He says simply, "It'll be alright. He'll probably sleep most of the day and you know where the medicine is." He gives her a small smile, "You can call me if you need me."

"What if you're busy?"

"Call Bash."

"What if he's busy?"

"If it comes down to it you can call my mom."

"Okay but what if-"

"Mary, it will be fine." He says that more seriously and she still frowns. He checks his phone and sighs another heavy sigh, "I have to go."

"Oh."

"I'll see you later." He gives her a small smile before applying a soft kiss to her lips and then her cheek, "You'll be fine." He says as he grabs his keys and then he's out the door.

James sleeps most of the day away but when he does wake up, he stays in bed and she sits on the floor watching him.

"Do you want to try and eat something?" She asks him and he shakes his head, "Are you sure?" He nods. Maybe he'll want to later, she scoots a little closer. She probably shouldn't be around him right now, considering he's sick and she's pregnant but she wants to be close to him.

"Was he mad?" He asks in a soft and tired voice, "That I threw up on his shoes?"

"No."

"Okay." He says softly, "I thought I made him mad." He whispers that and shivers in his blanket, she doesn't even care that he's sick and might be contagious, she just crawls in bed with him and wraps him in her arms. His body is warm and his hair is sweaty, but he turns over to snuggle closer.

"Wanna know a secret?"

"Yeah."

"I don't know if you're allowed to tell anyone. So, don't."

"I can't tell anyone." He says softly, "Because I don't know what it is." He informs her matter of factly and for a second she thought he was going to tell her he doesn't have anyone to tell, not roast her alive.

"I…" She starts slowly, "Am having a baby." She tells him softly.

"In my bed?"

"No, I don't mean right now." She giggles softly, "It won't be for a few months."

"Oh."

"Right now it's...well it looks like a baby, it has tiny hands and tiny feet but it's not big enough to come out." She whispers, "It was a little surprising to find out that it was...you know, in me."

"Are you scared?" He asks. "Doesn't it hurt?"

"I'm terrified." She says softly, "And yes but they have drugs for that." She suddenly wonders if she had drugs to give birth to James, "Question."

"Okay."

"Do you know how I...had you?" She knows he's a kid, that he probably couldn't tell her everything if he could tell her anything.

"Um." He seems to be thinking now, "No."

"Thanks for trying." She says softly, "I'm sorry I can't remember."

"S'okay." He says on a sigh. Then he's quiet and she thinks maybe he fell asleep but his eyes are open, he's simply waiting for her to say something.

"Are you mad that I'm having a baby?"

"Why?"

"I don't know, you're used to being the only kid around and in a few months, you won't be anymore. It's a lot. You might not get as much attention as you're used to."

"Will you love me less?"

"No." She shifts, "Never."

"Then why would I be mad?" It's quiet again and eventually, they both fall asleep curled up with each other.

-/-

He's not supposed to be here and she rolls her eyes when she sees his face in the flashing lights. The bar is noisy and crowded and she sidesteps patrons with her empty tray in hand as she heads back to the bar. She tries to ignore him as he looks at her and she starts to pile drinks on the tray.

"Mary," Francis says her name loudly so she can hear him over the other voices and the loud television, Ryan Seacrest is telling them how much time they have before the ball drops.

"Francis, I'm working." She tells him but he follows her through the crowd as she carries her tray and smiles as she bends to hand customers their drinks. She feels someone's hand on her ass and she spins around, annoyed because she thought it was Francis.

It wasn't.

"Do not touch my wife like that." It's a cold snap and he has his wrist in his hand, the man just puts his hands up.

"Relax, buddy, I didn't see a ring."

"Francis." She snaps, "Let him go." She hums as she brushes passed him and she has no clue if he did or not, she's a little busy.

"Mary." He's following her so she's assuming he listened. "I just want to talk to you." She narrows her eyes at him as she sets more drinks down at a table and a basket of fries almost meets the floor when someone runs into her. Does he not remember their fight? Does he not realize how freaking mad she is at him?

"I'm. Working." She tells him for what feels like the hundredth time but he just follows her back to the bar. Doesn't he have friends to be hanging out with? Where is Leith? David? Bash?

"I know."

"Then go home?" She suggests as she sets her tray down on the bar, "Or a party, something? Don't you have friends?"

"You're my friend." She rolls her eyes and Greer doesn't hide her amused smile from behind the counter. "Mary, please." He isn't going to leave until she gives him what he wants.

"I need a minute." She mutters to Greer before she turns and grabs Francis by his shirt, she tugs him around the back, down the hall, to the employee bathroom. "Five minutes." She snaps, it's New Year's Eve and she's busy. The light flickers above them.

"Uh." He seems to be unable to speak, eyes glued to her chest. Right. She's wearing a dark green corset top with sparkly rhinestones aligning the sweetheart neckline and very tight, black jeans.

"Losing minutes, babe." She huffs and that seems to snap him out of it long enough to look her in the eye.

"Okay, first, where the hell did you get that, and why have you never worn it before?" He asks.

"Kenna." She tells him, "And I didn't bring you in here to talk about my clothes."

"I know you're angry."

"What gave you that idea?" She asks as she turns away from him. "You just told me you never want to have kids. Why would I be angry about that?"

"Mary-"
"Do you not want kids or do you just not want to have them with me?" She asks that softly, he's so good with them, how could he not want them? It had to be her. "Do I have too much baggage?"

"Mary, I never said-"
"Do you think I'd be a bad mom? Is that it? You don't have to sugar coat every single thing you tell me, you can tell me if I'd be a parent, Francis." She's speaking quickly, "Bad moms breed bad moms, right? Is that what you wanted to tell me? I saw how you reacted when I drank a little too much that one time."

"You left, you didn't tell me where you were going, and then you stumble home at two in the morning, drunk off your ass. How was I supposed to react?" He asks, "You've never acted like that before."

"I was upset that you didn't want to have kids with me!" She shouts, "And you wouldn't even tell me why!"

"It's not you!" He shouts that too and she steps back with a confused frown, "I did the dad thing, do you see what happened to them?"

"Francis."

"Claude was overdosing in front of me and I didn't even know." He shakes his head, "Charles is a high school dropout, I don't even know where Henri is half the damn time, Margot...she had one meltdown after our father died, they put her on so many pills she doesn't even know if she's coming or going. I...I was supposed to take care of them and I couldn't even do that, Mary." She doesn't know what to say to him, so she just doesn't say anything, "How am I supposed to take care of a baby?"

"Francis." She says softly, "Do you think every parent goes into it knowing what to do?" She asks, "I know you think you're the one to blame for what happened to your siblings but you're not." And she can't believe he feels that way. "They made their own decisions, Francis." He doesn't say anything, he just frowns and they both look at the door when there's a knock.

"Mary, we're getting slammed out here." Is Greer's slightly helpless call and she groans.

"I'll see you later?"

"We'll talk more when I come home." She tells him before she leaves the bathroom.

-/-

After their nap, she does force some toast into his stomach, he doesn't eat much, about half a slice and he went right back to bed. She wishes there was more she could do for him but if the child wants to sleep it off, she can't say no. She sighs as she flips through a photo album, the one that was taken to the hospital to try and get her to remember something. She hasn't looked through it since. Some things that before felt blank, now feel hazy and familiar, and now that she's met a few of the people in the photos, she can now apply a name to the faces.

She recognizes her grandmother's diamond earrings in a wedding photo, the pair her mom kept locked up. It's one of the few pieces of jewelry she ever cared about and Mary's surprised she was ever sober enough to gift them. She wonders if she still has them.

"Hey." Francis greets her as he walks into the bedroom, "What are you looking at?"

"Wedding stuff."

"Did you remember something?"

"No."

"Oh." The corners of his mouth dip at that and he goes back to what he was doing, "Did you get James to eat anything?"

"He had some toast before he went back to bed." She tells him as she sets the photo album back on the stand and walks over to him. "Hopefully he feels better tomorrow." She says on a sigh as she moves his hands out of the way so she can unbutton his shirt.

"I hope so, I hate it when he's sick."

"Does it remind you of…" She means when he almost died, but she can't bring herself to say it and he gets what she means without having to ask.

"It does, yeah." He says softly, "Obviously that was a different type of sick, but still."

"It's just the flu, Francis." She tells him, "It's been going around. He probably got it from school."

"Maybe." He steps back to pull his shirt the rest of the way off and then he's turning away as he unfastens his watch from his wrist and she realizes then he missed the whole point of her wanting to undress him in the first place.

"I...missed you today." She tells him, "I was...pretty bored." She has no idea what she's saying right now, or how she's thinking this conversation is going to lead where she wants it to go. He's giving her a weird look as he drops his discarded shirt in the hamper and slips his shoes off.

"Okay."

"I got the rest of the puke off your other shoes and put them in the closet."

"Thank you." He says sweetly, tilts his head when she just stands there and picks at her finger. Seeing her do it makes him frown and she realizes she's been making him frown a lot lately. He just walks over and grabs her hands. "Don't do that."

"Sorry." She says softly but her fingers just curl to find her palm, nails digging into the skin.

"No, stop." He's pushing his fingers in between the spaces of her own now to keep her from quite literally ripping chunks out of her skin. "I'll tape them, I've done it before."

"Sorry."

"I thought we stopped that?" He questions and she shrugs, she doesn't remember stopping, so. She's not sure the question applies to her.

"Sorry, I'm nervous."

"About?" He asks softly and she doesn't say anything, she just lurches forward and collides with his mouth. It's a bit harder than she intended and she hears their teeth clack together and it takes him by surprise, he steps back. "Ow."

"Sorry-"

"What are you trying to accomplish here?" He asks. Only what they've been trying to do for the last couple of weeks, but they keep managing to get distracted or just deciding not to.

"I'm sorry, I don't know how to...do this."

"Do what? Break my face?" She's sure he isn't as annoyed as he sounds but to her he sounds like he's pretty fed up with her.

"Seduce you!" It flies out of her mouth before she can stop it and her hands fly over her mouth a small and embarrassed squeak from her lips. He just blinks.

"Oh." It's more a breath of air than it is a word that comes out of his mouth and she hates the way he's looking at her right now. It's like he doesn't know whether to laugh or die a little, but he clears his throat after a second and seems to regain his senses. "Mary."

"Hm?" It's muffled under her hands.

"Move your hands." He tells her and she brings them down slowly, they fall at her side and she doesn't meet his gaze. She doesn't really have to, once her mouth is uncovered, he's on her before she even realized he moved. This feels different, it's all tongue and teeth, it's soft in places and intense in others. It feels like that day he had her writhing in his lap in front of the fireplace when he told her he wanted her but she stopped him.

"Wait." She pushes against him, "Wait."

"What?" He seems concerned when she pushes him and his hand goes to her stomach. "What's wrong?"

"Not that." She says softly, "Um." She swallows the nervous knot in her throat, "Can you close your eyes?" She whispers the question.

"I've seen you before." He reminds her, his thumb running over her bottom lip fondly.

"You and I both know this isn't like before." He kisses her lips lightly before he nods and she's delighted to see he actually does close his eyes.

"No peeking."

"I make no promises."

"Francis."

"Okay, no peeking." He says seriously and she walks behind him for extra privacy. She watches him while she yanks her pants off and tosses them, right next to him. Just so he can hear the fabric hit the floor, she almost wishes she could see his face. She does the same with her shirt and her bra and then she's climbing in the bed and pulling the covers up to her neck.

"Okay…" She says softly. He raises an eyebrow at the way she's covering herself with the comforter.

"You know I'm just going to rip that off of you, right?"

"Please don't." She says with a pout, "It's cold."

"You're so cute." He laughs and shakes his head but then he swallows the humor and he's headed straight for her.

"No."

"Why?"

"Turn off the light."

"I'm actually going to kill you." He says that dryly and she swallows her laugh, he does as she asks though and flicks the light off, she even hears the lock twist in place. "Anything else? Water? Tea?"

"Tea sounds great-"
"Mary."

"I'm joking." She laughs, he doesn't come over until she reaches for him and he doesn't waste any time closing the gap between them.

A/N This was supposed to be the last chapter but I made it too long. The next chapter with be the last one.