A/N's: I don't Christian's last name. Seriously. I've seen the movie 4 times, and not once did they mention his last name. So, in this story, their last name is Andrews.

I don't own these people with the exception of: Christian's Mom, sister and his brothers.

A's/N#2: I have a subconcious image of his Mom as Ava Gabor from 'Green Acres'. Just thought I'd share. :-) SP



Inside, my heart is breaking
My make-up may be flaking
But my smile still stays on


Christian had woken up, tears on his face, sweating and shaking. Sunlight streamed through his small window.

He shook his head. Dreams were not his friend. Hadn't been in years.

He got up and got dressed. He had a slight headache, nothing an aspirin wouldn't fix, which he took and felt better.

He put everything back in his bag. Finding nothing else to do, be made his bed carefully.

He stood back and looked around at his tidy room.

He then shook his head at himself. Christian, he thought, you're pathetic.

He walked out of his room and onto the deck. He could see the English coast and ports. He smiled at the familiar sights.

He went to the dining room and ordered himself eggs, bacon and toast with some tea. He ate in silence, reading the newspaper he'd bought as he walked into dining room.

When he had finished, he went back to his room and sat on his bed, staring at the floor.

He was bored.

He got up and stood in front of the mirror. He practiced his smile. His mother would ask how he was. Fine, mother, he'd smile. His sister would ask as well. Great, he'd say, a grin gracing his face. His two brothers would ask. I'm doing fine, he'd beam. Smiles were a big part of his family.

About a half an hour later, there was a bugle announcing that they had docked.

Christian sighed with relief and picked up his bag. He got off the boat, into the smaller ferry and then he finally arrived on shore. The powerful smell of fish nearly knocked him over. The fishermen were bringing in their nets of nighttime catches. As he walked away from the port, he was sure he smelled like a sardine cannery.

The train station was not far from the dock, so he walked. This city seemed so welcoming, so homey ... so bourgeois, it was ridiculous. There were no street walkers and no drunkards. He was in the first nice neighborhood he'd been in in two years.

Well, nicer than Montmartre.

He knew his Mother would never set foot in this village ... she'd merely drive through it, averting her eyes and ordering her children to do the same.

Shaking his head, he continued on to the train station.

His train was just pulling in as he bought his ticket, so he got right on. Thirty minutes later, his train was pulling away and he was on his way home.

He was getting oddly nervous: slicking down his hair, dusting off his suit, having his shoes shined...

Stop this! he commanded himself. This is silly. They're your parents, for God's sake.

Parents who don't accept me.


~*~

"Next stop, London. Next stop, London."

Christian slowly opened his eyes, yawning. The conductor stood in front of him.

"Next stop, London." He said pointedly. Christian nodded.

"Thank you." He said.

Again, the anxiety returned. He started to smooth his hair, smooth down his suit, brush lint off his jacket, straighten his hat.

"Relax." He told himself firmly.

~*~

The train station was not far from his house, so his taxi ride was short. It was not long until he was standing in front of his home, the large house in the heart of London. He got off and paid the taxi driver and just stood there, staring.

He walked up to the iron gate, feeling the bars. A grin spread over his face. He was home.

He opened the gate and started up the walk to his house.

"Christian?" came a voice. The door opened. "Christian, darling, is it really you?"

Christian smiled and ran up the steps.

"It's me, Mother." He said.

"Oh, darling!" she exclaimed, embracing her son. Christian reveled in his mother's touch. She smelled exactly the same- like tea and flowers. He stepped back and looked at his mother.

"Oh, Mother, you look simply stunning!" he said, not stretching the truth in the least. Lily Andrews did look remarkably young. Her thick blond hair was piled on top of her head, her eyes were bright and her face showed no signs of aging.

A thoughtless hand reached up to pat her hair. "Darling, do you really think so?" Without waiting for an answer, she hurried on. "Darling, come in, come in! Goodness, you must be terribly tired after all this traveling. Marie! Come here and take his coat. Ella! Come take Christian's bag and put it upstairs in his room. Now, dearest," she said, taking his arm, "You must tell me everything. How was your trip?"

~*~

Christian and his mother spent an hour in the parlor catching up. It was no secret that Christian was his mother's favorite, but no one else was home.

"You're father, of course," She rolled her eyes, "Is at work. Gregory and Thomas are at school. And Annette is out taking tea with the Lorshire girls."

Christian smiled politely, like his mother expected him to. Who cared if he was upset that no one cared enough to stay home and greet him? As long as the whole family smiled, all was right.

As she said that, there was a commotion in the hall.

"Christian? Is that you?" came a lyrical voice. Christian instantly was at his feet.

"Annette?" he asked incredulously. In the two years that he'd been gone, his little sister had become a lady.

Her soft brown hair was in ringlets and styled in some elaborate form. Ladies' hairstyles never ceased to amaze Christian. So many and so different. She was wearing a light blue dress in a popular style and her face had lost it's babyish roundness.

Her sister started to run across the room, hoisting her skirts up. She was halfway to laughing Christian when the sharp voice of their mother shot out.

"Ann-ETTE." No voices were ever raised in this house. No one ever screamed. Voices were only made more forceful. Annette stopped, dropping her skirts. She docilely folded her hands behind her and continued across the room in a ladylike fashion.

"Good day, Christian." She said, a smirk playing on her lips.

"Good day, Annette." She threw her arms around his neck and squealed with delight.

"Oh, it's so good to have you home, Christian. This house has been positively ghastly ever since you left." She whispered. Christian smiled and released her.

She sat down on the small loveseat besides her brother. She turned towards him eagerly.

"I wanted to stay home and greet you, but Mother wouldn't let me." She reported, a slight pout in her voice. Christian smiled. Though she looked like a lady, she was still Annette.

"Dearest, I'm sure you had a splendid time with the Lorshires." said Lily smoothly.

Annette rolled her eyes, playing with the lace on a needlepoint pillow decoratively placed on the loveseat.

"The Lorshire girls- you remember, Christie, the twins, Cathy and Lottie- are positively dreadful." She leaned against the back of the couch dramatically. Christian smiled at the use of Annette's childhood nickname for him.

"Misses Catherine and Charlotte Lorshire are lovely company, Christian." Said Lily, making special emphasis on the 'tian', in rebuke to the name 'Christie'.

Annette sniffed haughtily and studied her nails. "Mother, the Lorshires are dull as dishwater and twice as murky. I've had more fun at a sewing circle."

Christian grinned and shook his head. His mother was getting upset, but Annette was a tempestuous child and paid no heed.

"Annette, what have you been up to? Besides getting into trouble, that is." Annette gave him a sickly sweet smile and swatted him with a pillow.

"Ann-ette." Hissed Lily with disdain.

Annette paid no attention.

"Mother's grooming me to be a lady of society, which means that I have no brains, a ridiculous amount of manners and never-ending sewing." She said the last part disdainfully, pointedly looking at her mother, who was effortlessly sewing a pretty needlepoint sampler without looking. "It also means, Christian dear, that I have to spend afternoons with the likes of the Lorshires."

"Annette-" began Lily.

"Annette," Christian said effortlessly, standing up. "Would you care to take a stroll around the gardens? I'd like to see them again."

Annette stood up. "I'd be delighted, Christian." She looked at her mother. "Mother, may I?"

"Yes, you may." She said, not missing a stitch on her sampler. "Remember your parasol."

Christian took his sister's elbow and led her outside. They were both quiet for a few minutes until Christian couldn't bear it any longer.

"Mother's roses are lovely this year."

Annette nodded.

They continued walking silently until Annette looked up at him. "Mother's been lying about you."

He stopped and looked at her. She nodded.

"She's been telling everyone that you were on the Grand Tour with the Van Der Builts. They don't have any children and they're going along with it. Everyone believes her."

"Annie-"

"Yes, I know. It's awful. Mother's lying to protect her pristine reputation. Her son wouldn't dare to go to Paris and become a bohemian. Not her son."

"Annette." He said, looking at her carefully. "I do believe you've grown up while I was away." Annette twirled around, letting her skirts swirl.

"Tell that to Mother. She still thinks I'm her little girl."

"Maybe she's right." He said, tugging on one of her curls.

"CHRISTIAN!!!!!!!" came a loud bellow. Christian turned, shielding his eyes against the sun.

"Gregory!" he called out in return. Gregory ran across the veranda and down the stairs towards his older brother.

Gregory, 18 and in college, stopped a few paces in front of his brother. "Look at you, mate. All fancied up."

"You don't look so bad yourself, little brother." Christian said, clasping hands with his brother.

"And what about me?" asked Annette indignantly. "No one decides to say hello to poor Annie?" Gregory smiled and embraced his sister.

"I'm sorry, old girl. I was so blinded by your beauty that I had to stop and gaze at such perfection."

Annette made a face. "Hush your mouth, you devilish thing."

"Annie!"

"Tommy!" cried Annette in response, standing on tiptoe and waving.

13 year-old Thomas ran down and stopped.

"Hello, Annie, Gregory. Hello, Christian." Christian smiled and shook hands with his youngest brother.

"Hello, Thomas."

Thomas grinned at his brother for a second, then turned to his sister. "Annie, Mother says it's time for you to come in and practice the piano."

Annette groaned and stomped her foot. "Blast that wretched creation!"

"Mother still makes you play." Stated Christian knowingly.

Annette nodded.

Mother," started Gregory, "seems to think that since she can play the piano like an angel, it is inconceivable that any of her female offspring cannot play."

Annette nodded again. "That's basically it." She sighed. "I better get up there. I'll see you later. Tommy, come along with me." Tommy shrugged.

"All right. I'll see you later." The two started off towards the house.

Christian looked towards his tall, handsome younger brother. "So, Gregory, what have you been up to while I've been away?"

"You're a fool, Christian." Spat Gregory. Christian's brow furrowed. Gregory's moods-even when they were children- had always been capricious and had the same disposition as their father's. "Father's written you out of his will."

Christian had expected something like that. He shrugged.

"The will is now divided in fourths. Thomas gets 1/4. Annette gets 1/4 as her dowry for her marriage. And I get half."

"I'm happy for you, Gregory." Christian said slowly.

"You could've had it all, Christian. If you had just gone into the business with Father. Now, look at you." Christian turned to his brother.

"Gregory, I'm doing quite all right, thank you very much." Monetarily speaking. "I'm doing fine in Paris." In the Underworld. "And I do not need to depend on Father's fortune any longer."

Before Gregory could response, a ghastly crashing sound charged out the open window of the music room. Christian looked at his brother. "Annette?" he asked.

Gregory smiled, his good mood having returned. "Either than or a monkey has escaped from the zoo and is now banging on the piano."

Christian smiled and started towards the house.

~*~

"Blast this infernal thing!" cried Annette, pounding on the keys in frustration.

Christian issued a low whistle from his position in the doorframe.

Annette turned. "Christie!" she said. He walked over to her and motioned for her to move over. She did, and he sat next to her.

He positioned his fingers over the keys, looked pointedly at his sister, and began playing.

The music flowed freely from his fingers, free of error and perfectly timed. Annette sat there, staring.

When he had finished, he let the last note linger. He stopped. He felt more relaxed, more calm, than he had in a long time.

Annette gaped at him and whispered reverently: "How do you do that?"

He shrugged. "It's a gift."

Annette pouted. "I wish I had that gift."

He rolled his eyes. "Mother made me practice for hours everyday."

Annette groaned. "Same with me. I'm terrible."

Christian rolled his eyes again. "Come on. You can't be that bad. Come on, play with me."

"I'm warning you, I'm terrible."

Christian played the first few bars of a song. "You know this one?"

Annette nodded. "Yeah."

"Then play with me. Heart and soul..." Annette grinned and sang the next line.

"I fell in love with you..."

"Heart and soul..."

"I fell in love with you..." They continued, Christian overlooking her mistakes and them singing to their hearts' content. When they finished, they were shocked to hear applause.

They turned to see their mother in the doorway.

"If only she would play so well while you were away, Christian." She said, gliding into the room. "That was lovely."

Christian smiled. "Mother, Annette isn't that bad."

Lily sniffed and looked away.

There was a pounding in the hall and suddenly Gregory fell through the doorway, grinning and out of breath. "Supper'll be ready an hour, Mother."

"Father still coming home at quarter after six?" asked Christian amusedly.

Gregory nodded. "You could set a watch by that man."

Lily ascending to standing position and motioning for the rest to do the same.

"I believe it is time to dress for dinner." She murmured. Annette stood up quickly.

"Yes, mother." she said, and followed her out of the room and up the stairs. As she turned, she made a face at Christian, then grinned before disappearing from sight.

Christian and Gregory stood awkwardly in the music room. Gregory said something about getting ready before disappearing as well.

With a sigh, Christian sat down.

This visit was going to be harder than he thought.

~*~

Christian's father was home.

Christian was hiding upstairs in his room, trying to avoid the inevitable confrontation known as 'dinner'. He couldn't avoid it much longer. Sunset was rapidly approaching, as well as the dreaded dinner bell.

He was in a nice suit, his hair all slicked down, nervously pacing his room.

His room.

It was nice to be in there again; everything was exactly the way he had left it. His books littered the room: on a night table, in his bookshelf, still lying on his desk. Everything was so comforting and homelike it managed to overcome the dread of dinner and gave way to a calming, more relaxed frame of mind.

He sat down at his desk and closed his eyes, inhaling in the scent of paper and the leather binding of his books.

Just when he had totally surrendered to a calm state, he was savagely torn from it by an impatient knock.

"Christian!" came a forceful voice. No scream- just forcefully speaking. "Christian!" It was Thomas.

Christian stood up.

"Come in!" he called. The door opened.

"Mother sent me to fetch you for dinner." was all he said before disappearing. Christian sighed.

Was he never to be able to actually speak to his brothers?

~*~

Can I please die now?!?!?!?!?! Christian pleaded to upper Bohemian deities.

Dinner was insufferable.

Everything was quiet. No one said anything. And when they did, it was only to hear every last detail about his father's day.

Jeremy Andrews was what was called 'un noveau riche'. He had grown up in the backstreets of London, knowing next to nothing. He had started at the lowest job at a metal factory. Working his way up, he then came to own it. He had made all his money in the metal industry and the stock market. And he was dead-set against any inkling of the that any of his family to go back to his previous way of life.

For Jeremy Andrews, it was purely inconceivable to him that any member of his family would want anything in this world other than wealth, an upstanding social status and an equally upstanding spouse.

Gregory was everything a son should be. Thomas was young, eager to please and easily led. Annette was a headstrong girl, but she was pretty and could be married and off his hands easily.

Christian had always been different.

He wanted different things. He was smart and did well in school, but didn't like the structure. To rigid, he protested.

Christian was a dreamer.

His mother found it an endearing quality, but to his father, nothing was more maddening. His first son, the one that was supposed to follow in his footsteps, preferred poetry to the news!

Needless to say, when Gregory turned to be an exact replica of himself, Jeremy could not have been more pleased. Abandoning his project to turn Christian to the business world, he turned to Gregory, an eager student.

To Christian, this world of business was boring. Boring, boring, boring. His father was boring. His business was boring. His colleagues were boring. When his father wanted him to become his partner, he balked. That life was boring and rigid. He couldn't- wouldn't- stand it. When stated this to his father, Jeremy was furious.

"Is the house you live boring? Is the food you eat boring? If not for this boredom, as you so pridefully call it, you would be living on the streets! You will learn to like it, do you hear me?"

It was then Christian found an alternative.


Christian snapped out of his thoughts. His father was still droning on and on. His mother sat, her pose saying that she was attentive, but her eyes were glazed and Christian knew she was probably wondering when her dressmaker would have her next dress ready. Gregory sat, listening. Contrary to his mother, he was interested. Thomas- who Christian knew had no real taste for business- sat, trying to force himself to be interested. Annette seemed to be the only playing to her feelings- she was tapping her foot under the table and humming quietly. His father found no use for 'empty-headed girls' and rarely spoke to Annette. He spoke very highly of her in public, praising her beauty and her voice and her ability to play the harp. He even managed to be made aware of her progress with her tutor to brag about it. But at home, it was a rare moment that he actually acknowledged his daughter.

Christian was doing what he used to do when he was a child. Looked across the table, straight ahead, at Annette's forehead, tuned out all noise, and thought.

He wondered if every family was as vapid as this.

He then became aware that his father had stopped talking and his mother was speaking- to him.

"I beg your pardon?" he asked.

"A party, darling. To celebrate your home-coming."

He shook his head quickly. "Oh, Mother, that's not necessary-"

"Don't be silly, darling. Of course it is."

Lily then started going on about who to invite, who had just returned, who was promised to who- and that she would have to invite who she referred to as 'The Cousins'.

Annette's eyes widened at those words and she looked shocked as she turned to Christian.

His mother was talking very quickly, and then she turned quickly to her son, a beaming smile on her face. "-and we'll get the cook on it right away. Oh, darling, you'll love it!"

Christian was trapped.

And then he realized he had to do what was expected of him. He couldn't run. He couldn't hide. He had to accept his fate with grace and culture.

With that, he did the only thing his mother would accept.

He plastered a giant grin on his face and nodded.

A's/N#3: How many of you are still reading this? I'm sorry I haven't updated sooner! It took me forever to do fabricate his family and stuff.

Teaser: Next chap: The preparation for the party, more on 'The Cousins' and will Annette be able to pry some info out of Christian?