"Tony," Saffron whispered as she and her husband fumbled with the keys to their flat, her voice husky from the seemingly never-ending bottles of expensive red wine her mother had sent to their table that night, "are you really so tired already, darling?"

His lips curled in a sexy grin, Tony responded as seriously as possible to the question.

"I said we should come 'ome and go to bed early, me love," Tony reminded Saffy, "but I didn't say anythin' about sleepin'..."

This reminder got Saff snickering, thinking of the night's prospects. But her head felt like it weighed at least a thousand pounds and all she wanted, really, was to rest it on her pillow and sleep.

Tony slumped against the door as Saffron tried to focus on inserting the key into the lock. The level of sheer concentration she afforded the task was proof that the wine had hit her hard.

"Damn…" she muttered. The key just would not go in. Saffy turned to face her husband, who was openly yawning now.

"Darling? Can you make this BLOODY key do what it should?"

Tony grinned at her. Three bottles of pricey Bordeaux had nothing on male bravado.

"You just 'and me that blasted key and I'll 'ave us inside in two shakes of a lamb's tail, me bride!" Tony boasted, raising an eyebrow as he, too, fumbled with the small piece of metal.

Saffron studied his work as he fiddled about.

"I don't think it's working, love," she told Tony, quite seriously. Saffy frowned, unhappy with what she saw. "Maybe… MAYBE… We should call… someone who can get this GOING, then, hmmm?"

By now, Tony was getting upset himself. Not really at Saffron, but at the key. Since he couldn't gripe at the key, though, he snapped at his wife instead.

"Ey! I think I'm capable of turnin' a key in a lock, Saffy!" he sniped.

"Obviously NOT," Saffron retorted, folding her arms over her chest and frowning in a manner that her mother would have found delightful in its sheer recalcitrance.

Tony snarled at her.

"Yeah? Well… 'ow's about YOU give another go, 'ey? Since you know all the tricks, me girl!"

"Hand that key over, then, Mister Draper," Saff shot back, "and I'll just…"

And then Tony's cellphone rang. He fumbled, working to retrieve it from his pants pocket, and saw that it was a call of such importance he had to take it. Clearing his throat, he straightened up and worked to sound as normal as possible.

"'Ello, love!" he said to the voice on the other end. "Everything all right, my sweet girl?"

Saff, now slumped against the door, glared at him.

"Oh…. OHHHH!" Tony groaned, his brown eyes going wide. "Is 'zat so? Well… um… 'ere you go. No, no - it's good you called, sweet'eart."

Handing his phone to Saffron, Tony now took her place and leaned unsteadily against the doot to their flat.

"Hello?" Saffy said, stifling a yawn. "Gracie? What's wrong? Oh, nothing… You're just… saying goodnight, then? Well, all right, angel. Daddy and I miss you, too. And… Hmmm? What's that? The Eiffel Tower is so pretty at night?"

Now Saff found herself a bit more sober than before.

The Eiffel Tower?

"Sweetheart?" she asked her little girl, "are you and Gran and Auntie Patsy watching a show on telly about Paris?"

Saff's eyes went wide at Grace's reply.

"You're IN Paris?"

Tony, who'd been balancing himself against the front door of the flat, now felt his head go light and his legs give way. The last thing he recalled hearing, later, was Saffron's voice as she directed a question into the phone.

"How are you IN Paris?!"