In the days when women had no rights at all, selfish and unscrupulous males fought over them, pretty much like wild animals fight over their females competing for the right to mate. So here we are in 1827 when feminism wasn't even thought of. Francis isn't a girl technically, but he's sort of a girl...sorta...

I recommend you listen to "Pumped Up Kicks" by Foster the People, for effect.

At first Francis was ecstatic. He ran to Arthur and hugged him so tight he nearly fell over. "Oh Arthur I've missed you!" he cried fondly, then stepped back and looked him up and down. "It's you, it really is you!" he cried. "You look so good!" He said, taking in the familiar form of his Angleterre, the man he'd known and loved for a long time.

"So do you." Arthur replied. "Is that tweed you are wearing?"

"Oh… it is. My clothes were inappropriate, so Hindley, your Great Grandfather, he lets me wear his clothes." Francis said.

"Does he?" Inquired Arthur, as he bit his lip.

"He's been very kind to me." Francis replied. "But I' have missed you so much!"

"I've missed you too Francis, more than you'll ever know…" Arthur replied. "I thought I'd never see you again. But I worked on the problem and I came up with a solution. It was so simple, build a smaller version of the machine, and here it is cunningly disguised as a backpack."

"Mon Dieu!" Francis exclaimed. "C'est magnifique! You are a genius Arthur!"

"Now you can come back with me, and by God Francis, I'll destroy the machine, I'll give you the life you always wanted!"

"Oh… but…but…" Francis took a step back, looking very worried. "I… can't…" He said. "I thought I'd never see you again, I was grieving for you, it was like you were dead." He said with a desperately sad look on his face. "Now you're back… and it's not fair Arthur…"

"What are you talking about." Arthur grabbed his wrist roughly. "Come on Francis we have to go!"

"Let go of me, you're hurting me…" He cried as Arthur grabbed him.

"We have to go home, why are you resisting?"

"Arthur, you don't understand…" He cried "something's happened…"

Suddenly Hindley appeared from nowhere and punched his future counterpart in the face, causing him to stagger backward. "Unhand him you fiend!" he roared. "Is this man hurting you Francis?" He asked with concern, rubbing Francis' arm.

"Hindley!" He cried, then whispered "It's Arthur… from my time…"

"What?" He uttered, then looked closely at the unwelcome intruder. His eyes widened when he realised he was looking at a future version of himself, from 1946. "Oh my….God…" he uttered. "It is impossible…"

"No Hindley, the word you are looking for is implausible…." Arthur replied as he wiped the blood from his mouth. "Nothing is impossible."

"Touche old chap…" Hindley replied, looking at him curiously. "What the Devil…?"

"Hindley… finally I get to meet you." Arthur said still recovering from being punched in the face. "In my time you're a stinking corpse, crawling with maggots and worms. It was you I was trying to revive… now I see you in the flesh I realise you are still nothing but a stinking corpse."

"How dare you insinuate such things you… Charlatan!" Growled Hindley. "Why don't you go back to where you came from?"

"I'm here for Francis." He said. "Francis come on, we have to go home."

Hindley didn't let Francis speak, he spoke for him and pushed Arthur backward a little. "Francis isn't going anywhere with you. And I don't like your tweed Sir!" He yelled. "You can't just waltz in here after abandoning him to his fate…"

"It was an accident!" Arthur retorted. "And may I add your tweed is certainly not top notch, I don't like it either, so there!"

"Please don't fight over me…" Cried Francis but was completely ignored.

"My tweed is the finest in the land. I don't know what you call this nonsense you're wearing!" Growled Hindley "But it is a dreadful cut, and your tailor has no dress sense, and thus neither do you."

"OH really? Well at least I have decent clothes to wear, not like this old-fashioned baloney…" Arthur replied. "I am here for Francis give him up or you'll regret it!"

"I challenge you to a duel to the death Sir!" Hindley said and slapped him in the face with a glove.

"Did you just challenge me to a duel?" Arthur asked, all fired up, somehow a duel was exciting.

"I did indeed Sir, pistols at dawn, on the bridge, over the river. If I win Francis stays with me!" Hindley retorted angrily.

"You're on. I will not lose, and Francis shall return with me!" Arthur replied with equal anger.

"Wait wait wait… Mon Dieu! This is madness… should I not be allowed to decide which of you I want to be with?" Cried Francis.

"What are you talking about?" Hindley asked shaking his head. "The duel to the death has been declared."

"That's right Francis, once an Englishman has agreed to a duel to the death it must be satisfied." Arthur said in agreement. "At least Hindley and I agree on that one."

"But… you…" He stammered "That means one of you must die…" He uttered. "No… don't do it.. Arthur… call off this charade. I love you, but I love Hindley too."

Hindley put his arms around Francis and held him, much to Arthurs disgust. "I love you Francis, you know what we have is far more precious than anything he could ever offer you. Look at what we have here, our life together, our child, our summerhouse, our home… I will not let you go without a fight… you are mine."

"But Hindley, he could shoot you and you will die, don't you understand?" Francis cried. "Am I truly worth dying over?"

"Yes." Arthur and Hindley answered in unison. Then stared angrily at one another.

"I will give you the life you always wanted Francis." Arthur replied "I have been researching some chemicals and worked out a way to make a man conceive and carry a baby for nine months. You could have my child just as we hoped for."

"Oh…" gasped Francis "zat sounds fascinating…"

"Men do not have babies." Hindley said and flicked Arthur on the nose. "Men are not born with the equipment to have babies." He said "What kind of world is this future place where men give birth?"

"Ow!" cried Arthur. "What the hell do you think you are doing?"

"Listen to me Arthur. Francis was in pieces when he was just abandoned here. You have no idea what it was like for him. He cried night after night, he was lost, he wanted you and for whatever reason, you weren't there. I held him Arthur, not you, me. I was there." He hissed angrily. "Why can't you leave well enough alone?"

Francis watched this scene and buried his head in his hands. He loved them both, but they were both so different, in many ways.

"As we duel in the morning you can sleep in the outhouse." Hindley said, straightening himself up, and pointing to a small cottage like building in the grounds of the mansion. "It would not do to refuse you hospitality, after all it is your house too."

"At least you have some decency about you Hindley." Grumbled Arthur. "I respect you for that at least… it will be a shame to kill you. But you did lay down the challenge." He said. " I tell you Francis is coming home with me, no matter what you say. Even if this changes history."

"In your dreams." Hindley replied. "I won't see you hurt him again." He said and put his arm around Francis possessively, walking with him back to the house as Arthur looked on, seething with anger and jealousy. Francis walked along with his head in his hands, utterly devastated at the thought of what was going to happen in the morning. What could he do about it? He loved Arthur desperately, but in the months he'd been with Hindley, their relationship had grown into something wonderful, and could he really leave young Arthur when they were finally starting to feel like a family? The thought of either of them dying in a duel scared him a lot. He had to do something but what could he do? Why wasn't anyone listening to what he wanted? Why was he being treated like some inanimate object or prize? The thoughts that ran through his head were driving him insane. He didn't want to lose either of them. What a nightmare.