Disclaimer: I own ..................................................................................................nothing! *sigh* What a depressing thought!

Pairings: Sufin and a few other side pairings.

Thank you for taking the time to read this.

Accidents

"I specifically asked for a Victorian tea table and NOT a Renaissance collection of…….toilet seats! How is it even considered art? Atrocious designs and repulsive form of constructions, and that's ART? It must be a bloody French designer!"

A gruff voice laced with irritation issued out of the cell phone in Tino's hand. And the snort that followed the word 'art' was a remarkable one.

Tino almost wanted to remind the man on the other end that, the designer of the so-called 'toilet seats' was a Finnish American, and a rather well reputed one at that, almost. But then again, he was dealing with a client here, one that had the temperament of a hungry dragon, and who would probably not appreciate being taught 'art' by a mere interior designer. And so Tino settled for,

"Yes, Mr. Kirkland you did and again I apologies for the inconvenience. I assure you I'll have everything sorted out by today."

"You do that!

Tino cringed as the phone on the other end was slammed down on its cradle.

I need an aspirin was the first thought that crossed his mind. The second brain wave struck him as he was returning to his desk.

If the pedestal table and chairs were indeed at the Kirkland mansion, then what happened to the Victorian tilt-top tea table? More importantly why wasn't he informed of the missing pedestal set earlier? It was supposed to have been delivered yesterday; surely the owner had noticed that it was no where to be seen? What on earth…………

Stopping in his track, he flipped open his cell phone and scrolled down to a number. Quickly hitting the call button, he waited for the other end to pick up as he tapped his foot impatiently on the carpet.

"Bonjour."

"Monsieur…"

Before he could even attempt to finish his sentence, he was cut off by a silky voice.

"Ah, Tino mon chéri! I was expecting you sooner."

"Eh, you were? That aside, did you receive the pedestal set by Eero Saarinen? The one that was supposed to be in the guest dining room?"

"I don't know, cher."

"You don't? But it was supposed to have been delivered yesterday."

It was becoming increasingly difficult trying to hide the exasperation in his voice over the phone today.

"Non, je ne……why don't you come over and see for yourself, mon petite chatte?"

Tino pretended that the purr at the end of that sentence was a product of his tired imagination. In fact he hoped that it didn't exist in the first place.

"Come over, you say…are the movers there already then?"

"Oui, they are here already, bare biceps and all."

It was hard to stop wincing at the said description of the movers.

"I'll be there in 20 minutes, please ask the movers to bring out the inventory from yesterday by then."

"I'll do that………et plus!"

Sighing to himself he put an end to the call.

Tino Väinämöinen had been an interior designer for a little over four years. And over the course of those four years he had met some clients that ranged from rude to down right arrogant. While most of them were under the impression that they were some top notch art connoisseur, others underestimated him for his experience and age. But the two clients he had been dealing with in the past week didn't belong to any one of those categories.

True Mr. Kirkland had a temper that could rival the sparks of Thor's hammer; he was, without a doubt well informed of the Victorian art works and took great pride in collecting them from all over the world. And so, even when he suffered from minute to large spasms at the mention of the renaissance, Tino respected the man for his knowledge.

But Monsieur Bonnefoy was a different matter all together. He was the perfect client in most sense. He was proud of his French heritage and was never shy to show it off regardless of the expenditure. That was probably one of the reasons for him being able to hire the firm Tino worked in, 'Valhalla Designs'. Yes, he was a valuable and important client, but that still didn't excuse him from behaving cordially with a designer. The man was persistent to say the least.

Whispering in his ears every time he was busy looking over papers, putting a hand around his waist as if trying to break his fall, even when he wasn't falling or was about to fall, stroking his chin in order to get his attention, and altogether being as touchy-feely as humanely possible. The only message it managed to send to him was that if he didn't stop being engrossed in his works before the man, he would meet his end in a way he would rather avoid.

Tino broke out of his reverie as he parked his car in the driveway.

The château that stood before him was worth a fortune in both its historical value and real estate wise. Previously owned by a family of generations of wine makers as a summer home, it was now the property of Francis Bonnefoy, Tino's client.

"There you are, mon cheri!"

The Frenchman glided to meet him at the entrance. With shoulder length blond hair and azure eyes, he had a regal air to him that was better suited to a nobleman from the 19th century and not a 21st century business tycoon.

As they strolled down the hallway and into the vast ball room where majority of the movers were present, Tino inquired,

"Have you looked over the inventory yet Monsieur Bonnefoy?"

"Aucun, and I won't either if you don't stop with the 'Monsieur'!"

"But you are my client, Monsieur Bonnefoy! It would be rude of me to call you in any other name!"

"Là vous allez à nouveau! I will not hear another word from you if you call me Monsieur Bonnefoy, its Francis mon cher, Francis!"

"Very well then, Monsi……I mean Francis, you win."

"Il semble absolument charmant d'entendre mon nom de tes lèvres mon chaton rose! Cela me donne envie d'en savoir plus ...... beaucoup plus dans cette belle voix de la vôtre!"

The rapid onslaught of French coming from the man with a leer in his eyes did a little more than confuse Tino. It made him feel like a rabbit caught in a trap.

Trying to move away from Francis in order to inspect the room, he started to back away. He was so caught up in his actions that he didn't notice the pair of blue-green eyes that were fixed on him the whole time during his earlier conversation with a frown, or the box that caused him to topple back.

Closing his eyes in anticipation of the impact with the marble floor, he was surprised when he found himself in the embrace of two strong arms.

Glancing upwards, his eyes met a pair of beautiful eyes half hidden by square glasses and rusty platinum locks. He was sure the entire room could hear his heart beat as he stammered,

"It's you!"

"Hn."

Turning around sharply, he inhaled the scent of wood shavings and varnish and grasses.

There he was.

The man Tino had met a week ago, the man who found the dog now playing around in Tino's front yard. The very man of whom Tino knew nothing of except for the fact that he had a kind heart……or so he had hoped.

Forgetting for a moment that he was at a client's place, he bombarded the man before him with questions.

"Who are you? Why didn't you come when the pup was releases? Did you know that I……I mean the pup waited for you?"

He tried his best to keep the accusatory tone at bay.

The man before him was looking at him with an incredulous look in his eyes, and suddenly Tino realized where he was.

Monsieur Bonnefoy was standing near by with amusement etched all over his face as he studied the young designer before him. He had found him to be a charming fellow who was completely unaware of the effect he had on other people. Seeing him badger a mover with such an array of emotions playing in his eyes was a shock. But none-the-less, he found even this Tino to be quite interesting.

"Ummmm….." Tino mumbled.

"B'rw'ld, n'm's B'rw'ld."

"Berwald…?" Tino repeated.

The man before him nodded, and continued.

"W's b'sy th' oth'r d'y, c'ldn't c'me t' s' th' d'g. S'rr'."

"Oh no no, it's alright, really" was all Tino could muster on seeing the dejected expression on Berwald's face.

"H'w 's h'?"

"He's fine. I took him in. Hanatamago I mean."

"Y' n'm'd h'm H'n't'm'g'?"

Didn't it mean flower-egg? The taller of the two mused.

"Yeah." Tino stated proudly.

"Tino, my cher."

Hearing the honeyed voice of Monsieur Bonnefoy, Tino glanced back.

"Ah, I apologise Monsieur Bonnefoy."

"Again?"

"Oh I mean, Francis."

"Mieux."

The Frenchman purred as he easily maneuvered around the boxes and placed a hand around Tino's midsection.

"Ummmmm Francis….."

Tino struggled to move free of the appendage, and found himself looking at Berwald with a silent plea in his eyes, which was answered with,

"C'n I c'me 'nd v's't h'm s'm't'me?"

"Eh? Oh yeah, sure. Give me your number and I'll contact you then."

Tino was glad that Francis took the hint and decided to leave him alone to explain something to another mover.

With a nod, the taller of the two started quoting his number as Tino punched them on his cell phone.

"I am Tino, and mine's the number that just called you." Tino stated with a smile.

"A word please, Tino."

Hearing Francis call him from the other end of the room, he heaved a sigh and mumbled a good-bye to Berwald, before moving towards the burgundy clad settee near the veranda. If he had spared a glance back rather than at the fabric before him, he would've caught the most unusual of expression on Berwald's face.

His cheeks were slightly tinted with red as he stared to and fro from the number saved under the name 'Tino' and at the person in flesh and blood bathed in the afternoon glow that had seeped into the room through the auburn drapes.

Somewhere nearby, the Norwegian supervisor cursed under his breath when he realized the mistake in delivery made by his firm. It was going to cost him a handsome sum if either parties demanded a consolation.

Little did they all know that a few years from now, everyone present would thank the little accident that caused the pedestal set to reach the Bonnefoy estate instead of the Kirkland mansion.

Ah yes, that would be an accident worth remembering in the series of many that are yet to come!

Eero Saarinen is an actual person, and graced this world from August 20, 1910 to September 1, 1961. He was a Finnish American architect and product designer, the pedestal I was talking about could be found in Encyclopedia Britannica under renaissance furniture.

French used:

Bonjour is hello.

Mon cheri is my darling

Aucun and Non is no.

Là vous allez à nouveau is there you go again.

Cher is dear.

"Il semble absolument charmant d'entendre mon nom de tes lèvres mon chaton rose! Cela me donne envie d'en savoir plus ...... beaucoup plus dans cette belle voix de la vôtre!" means "It seems absolutely lovely to hear my name from your lips my pink kitten! It makes me want to hear more ...... much more in that beautiful voice of yours!"

Mieux means better.

Berwald speaking:

"W's b'sy th' oth'r d'y, c'ldn't c'me t' s' th' d'g. S'rr'." = Was busy the other day, couldn't come to see the dog. Sorry.

"H'w 's h'?" = How is he?

"Y' n'm'd h'm H'n't'm'g'?" = You named him Hanatamago?

"C'n I c'me 'nd v's't h'm s'm't'me?" = Can I come and visit him sometime?

Originally this was supposed to be a short chapter and I have no idea when it became this big! This is what happens when you let the plot bunnies run wild! I had the most fun writing up Francis! I hope this chapter is up to your expectations. And updates will be a bit slow for a while since I have been feeling a bit under the weather, but I'll try to update as soon as I can.

Now in reply to the reviews ( I love you people):

SonChin: There's a very good reason why Tino cooks so much. I am a terrible cook but that doesn't mean that I can't make some one else cook delicious things for me in the virtual world. And I love to eat. Hope that you'll like this chapter!

MonkeyGirlNaNoDa: Thanks!

Misothekittyboy: Thank you so much! I hope you get well soon!

LittleGirlInRed: I am so grateful for your help. True they were supposed to make an entrance in this chapter, but Francis took over! I plan on introducing them in the next chapter, hopefully! I hope you enjoy chapter 4!

Shounen-Ai: Oh they'll meet again, idiotic authoress says so at least!

xXxSilverMoonxXx: People who review are a part of the story by default, so it's only fair that I say my piece to them in the story! Elizaveta popped out of no where as I was writing chapter 3, I am glad you liked her.

MashednotHashed: Thank you for the suggestion, I already made an appointment with the doctor. Thanks!

Ripan: Thank you for such kind words!

Vivecka: I hope chapter 4 is to your liking.

Syous99: I am glad I continued as well! Thanks!

Bika-chan: Thanks! *blush*

A review a day, keeps Miss Sad Face away!