Français:

François, t'es tellement rigolo: François, you make me laugh...

Quel temps qu'il y a en Angleterre: What a wheather they have here in England!

D'accord: well... (fine..)

Deutsch :

immer so liebevoll: always so adorable.

sicherlich: surely, for sure

mein Führer : my leader. Arthur's calling Ludwig like that to make fun of him, so please, don't start a revolutionary war. I know Germans ain't all Nazis, dammit.

Parting is such a sweet sorrow

Arthur was laughing. Just right before his eyes, Arthur was covering his opened mouth with his hands, emitting loud chirps and rhythmic breathes, slightly bent over not to let Francis see his red face.

"Me and you.. Kissing?"

On speaking his mind, his laughter became louder. Even Francis faked a brief chuckle himself. Yet, inside he didn't feel like laughing at all. François, t'es tellement rigolo... Staring at Arthur slowly regaining his composure, he tried to force a smile upon himself, but unfortunately, only a miserable straight line appeared below his nose. Discouraged, he tried to justify himself before the other noticed.

"It was just a question.."

"The most stupid you could ever ask!" Still chuckling, Arthur replied bluntly on fixing his clothes and hair. With a sorry look and his arms folded in front of his chest, he let his eyes follow the frame in front of his. Tip-toeing on his feet, slightly trembling for the cold, with his hands well-hidden in the pockets of his jacket and a half-worried half-thoughtful expression on his face, Francis seemed to be tortured by some mysterious inner monster and, of course, Arthur had to save him.

"Are you alright?" His voice didn't come out as friendly as he wished, but too harsh and dry to give some comfort. Francis answered with a silent nod, before turning and walking back towards the exit-gate, lost into his own fantasy world.

"Francis?" Arthur followed him immediately, slightly alarmed by the sudden reaction. He didn't like Francis thinking too much over things, even less if he didn't know why. Moreover, they were chatting amiably just until a second before, what made things change?

"Hey, Frog! Don't run!"

Unexpectedly, Francis' pace had got even steadier and quicker, so in a minute they were already outside the park heading to the car. He would've kept on walking, if Arthur's hand hadn't managed to grab his arm and stop him.

"What's wrong with you?" He asked panting looking right into his eyes, which strangely now averted his own, staring at the pavement right next to them, even when Arthur shook him with impatience.

"We're gonna be late..." What managed to escape Francis' lips was nothing more than a murmur, a soft plea. He wanted to run away, suddenly suffocated by Arthur's presence. Not that he was irritating or bothersome, but that laugh... He had felt something inside of him cringing and breaking, something, which had made him breathless and yet unable to stuck air in his lungs. He stared at the hand shaking him and felt his skin burning under its touch. Unconsciously, his whole body stiffened, as a feeling of uneasiness started creeping inside of his brain. He swallowed, frowned and half-closed his blue eyes on rolling his arm to get rid of the grip. As he was free again, he stepped away from Arthur without giving him a glance. Instead, his eyes were on the pavement, counting the fossilized chewing-gums and the small hills of dirt moved by the wind.

Arthur didn't have to glance at his mobile to know it said otherwise, but he couldn't but walk by Francis' side to the car, ignoring the anxious tension that had started building between them. They kept silent like marble statues, each of them lost into his own thoughts. Thoughts of the concerned friend they had so close and yet so distant.

Francis' mind revolved around that laugh. Part of it tried to convince him that it was just a laugh, which had been nothing more than the right reaction to such a stupid question. It was just fair of Arthur to call it stupid, why, wouldn't he say the same? And yet, there was this strange feeling winging not on his mind, but wrapping his heart and making his breathing more difficult, his limps heavier, his skin warmer. It wasn't rage, but disappointment, and still, disappointment for what? What did he expect from Arthur?

His head turned, just to catch a glimpse of Arthur's eyes shifting to the side, as they had been concentrating on him for all the time. The emerald green of his eyes glimmered behind the sandy colour of his bangs, which shadowed the pearly whiteness of his skin, but not the livid pink of his lips. Thin, cherry lips, like a doll. His chin, always clean and smooth, not too prominent, but harmonious and his jawbone, well-seen under that porcelain skin. His skin, which turned darker under his head, there, where it connected with the neck and kept some of its shadows well-hidden from the light to paint them under the Adam apple, to make it look bigger than necessary before disappearing behind the jacket at every soft breathe.

Francis blinked, turning immediately his head. What was he doing? Was it Arthur's body what he had been exploring with his hungry eyes just a moment before? What, what, what was happening to him? He shook his head violently, snorting. Many confused thoughts had started piling one on the other inside of his brain and right now he felt like his head was ready to explode.

Arthur watched carefully. Francis' eyes moved from side to side, as he was looking for something in the desolate landscape. Empty eyes, searching for nothing. He was speechless, peeking to the side in case the right moment to say something came up. Yet, silence was the only one keeping them company until they approached the car.

Instinctively, Francis reached for the wrong door again, but he let Arthur say nothing, shifting to the back-seat door instead. Feeling as stung by a bee, Arthur tensed to the point of shivering at Francis' rude indifference. Why wouldn't he sit next to me? He kept on wondering, not able to give himself an answer. He was woken up by the vibrant tingle of the keys slipping from his grip and hitting the ground, bouncing next to his left foot. He sighed and knelt down to grab them, glancing at the other's possible reaction.

Nothing.

Munching the inside of his cheek, he straightened his back on choosing the right key. The lights illuminated the already lit-up interiors, welcoming the two with a cosy warmth. Arthur sat silently, turned the key in the hole and drove out of the parking lot with much confusion in his mind.

His attention was driven on the cold silence that had fallen like a barrier between the two, increased by their new distance. Glancing at his reflex in the mirror, Arthur could only catch half of his frame, too absorbed in the contemplation of the grey city running wildly to their sides. Knowing the streets of London, he was taking the longer way to get to the station, hoping they would break the silence before saying good-bye. Yet, an oppressive stillness floated inside the car, making his hands sweat cold.

He swallowed, coughing a little to attract some attention. Francis' eyelids closed slowly, as he reclined his head to the side, sighing. Now Arthur noticed he was holding the forgotten pillow of the night before tightly to his chest. They had never got it out of that car and it was still ready to give some comfort. Setting his mind on the road, he preferred not to say a thing, leaving the warrior and his shield alone.

Soon, signs indicating the way to the station to the lost ones started to appear all around, which saddened both travellers. Coping with the feeling of separation had always been the hardest part. How many times they had to part again?

Francis hugged the pillow even more tightly. He felt himself like puking at the idea of coming back. Alone, in that house.. He wanted to stay with Arthur. He knew this was selfish of him, childishly asking for his friend's company for... What for? He didn't know. His mind had turned into a giant big mess without him even realizing it. Arthur. He had always seen him as a true friend, a trustworthy, reliable, sincere friend. But his mind had started playing tricks to him. Not only did he wonder about a possible future together, but he also thought of their relationship as far closer. What's happening to me? Was his unsolved question, to which he could only answer by isolating himself behind a dark-coloured pillow.

"We're here." Was the only murmur that Arthur managed to whisper, as he was afraid to break the stillness inside the car. Abandoning the pillow, Francis closed his eyes, reached for his lent bag with one hand, looking for the handle with the other. A fresh breeze hit him in the face as he got off the car, forcing him to put his hands in his pockets to protect them from the cold. Quel temps qu'il y a en Angleterre! Was his only thought before he started marching towards the entrance of the station.

Arthur followed him close behind, but his mind was too occupied on watching a nice movie about their afternoon together, searching cautiously for what details had caused such an end to pay attention to anything else. In the meantime, Francis gave a glance to the train for Paris, had his ticked dirtied by blue ink and limped like a wounded soldier to the right train. There, he turned to see Arthur's blank face.

"Time to go." He managed to say in a breath. It came out somewhat high-pitched, and he worried it might've sounded too anxious. Not that he cared, but his heart had immediately jumped as Arthur shifted his gaze and now he could feel it racing in his throat faster and faster as the tension kept on rising. Arthur replied with a firm suck on his lips, a nod and a resigned "Yes, time to go."

Francis nodded in response and jumped on the train. A whispered "Bye" was all he managed to offer before disappearing in the carriage. Hurt. Hurt and fear were battling in his chest, along with a broader confusion than before. Arthur would never follow him on the train, of course not. And he could not stay, no matter how much he wished to. Parting, parting was not a sweet sorrow, parting only kept him wondering if it had been for the better to cage himself between the pillow and the back-seat instead of talking to Arthur. Arthur, Arthur, Arthur. Why did his head hurt so much? He was only thinking of his best friend! Obsessively thinking of his best friend. He took out the phone from his pocket, feeling the need to call him, to say sorry, to explain the situation. But on dialing the right number, he realized he had no word to say.

Broken-hearted, Arthur walked away. Francis' behaviour hurt him deeply, but, worst of all, he couldn't find a possible reason that would justify it. What did he say wrong? He had just laughed at one of his stupid jokes! Of course, being together all the time would be nice, living in the same town a great chance and sharing the same home quite convenient, but they just couldn't! Or well, they could, but what would people say? Also, what if one of them wanted to marry again? "Sorry, my best friend is at home today. Oh, no, don't worry, we just live together!" C'me on, that would never work. Not for Francis, for sure. For him, well... He wasn't really keen on gluing himself to another blood-sucking parasite with a nice ass and a rotten heart. Not really. Still, Francis used to be a ladies' man and only because he was still swimming out of his crisis, that didn't mean he would set off for a hunt never again. However, his last question left him wondering. He actually had wished for the occasion to ask him the same many, many times, without having the right chance to do so. Yet, he had never asked himself what his position was on the thing. He was curious about Francis, not about himself! But now, thinking over it, he should've given himself an answer long time before.

"Stupid Frog." He hissed in sitting in his Bentley. Stupid Arthur. His mind added as the engine started roaring. His car hadn't exited the parking lot, that a blurry figure appeared behind the car and placed his opened hands on the wide back-glass, causing Arthur to press the stop pedal violently.

Still quite shocked, he shouted angrily on getting off the turned-off car, without even glancing at the idiot behind it. "What the BLOODY FUCK are you doing, you dimwit! I could've ki-" His voice dropped, as he saw Francis standing there, silently, with a small, sad smile on his face. His eyes were red and bewildered, but firm. Something was glowing inside of them, a new force, a secret that needed to be told.

Arthur froze on his place, blinking. "What.. What are you-" A horn. The train was leaving the station and Francis was there, smiling slightly yet awkwardly, his honest eyes pleading for a pardon which Arthur was not sure he was ready to give. He walked to him, frowning. He felt there was something wrong behind those clear eyes, but he could not see a thing in that azure sea. "Your train left..." He stated with an uncertain voice, as he was looking for a deny in the other. But the other just confirmed.

"Someone needs my apology." He affirmed simply, widening his sorry smile in search for approval. Arthur appeared seriously impressed in backing slightly with a certain look of surprise on his face. He surely didn't approve of such a stupid thing, but Francis' behaviour had been quite weird lately and yet, he couldn't blame anything on him, even missing his train just to come after him to be pardoned. Arthur's eyes were locked on the ground, keeping contact with the asphalt just to hide behind his bangs the water pooling under his green globes. He smiled sincerely, raising his head illuminated by his glistening eyes, glowing on offering his excuses.

"I do apologize for being such an incompetent friend."

There was no modesty in his words, but a note of hatred for himself, a certain guilt for not having apologized first and a resentment he could only feel. And sincerity, tons of sad sincerity, dripping down his lips as his soft voice spoke. He smiled bitterly, innerly glad that the tension had drifted away.

Francis laughed briefly, shaking his head on approaching Arthur. They were much closer now, so much, that they could almost feel the torpor emanating from each other's body. "May I come with you?" Francis indicated the car, making both realize that now he was stuck on the green island till late at night.

Arthur nodded, shifting to the side to let him get to his seat. Much to his contempt, Francis rushed to the front to sit right next to him. Eventually, he felt like everything had returned back to normal and got on his Bentley with a feeling of lightness dancing in his stomach.

"Do you mind me calling Ludwig? I'd rather let you in the office instead of leaving you in a smelly pub or alone in this old car." He immediately asked, just before making the engine roar a second time.

Francis tilted his head, nodding in response. "Please, go on." He added with a wave of his hand. Still, when Arthur had fished his mobile out of his pocket and started dialing the right number, Francis' voice reached his ears again. "Arthur... There's something I want to discuss with you once your call's over."

Arthur's eyes shifted more curiously than worriedly towards the frame next to him. He hadn't asked what he meant by that, when the called German at the other side of the line answered promptly.

"Scotland Yard, may I help you?"

"One could smell Bratwurst only by hearing you talk, Sir."

"Immer so liebevoll, Kirkland. Are you ready to show up or you need time to put more make-up on that sickly pale face of yours?"

"Sorry, mein Führer, but if the world's inhabited by wankers who ignore the basic rules of driving, that's not my fault for being late."

"Because sicherlich you're NOT driving right now, are you?"

"No, but I could be. Who knows? Listen, what about having a Frenchman around for a couple of hours?"

A huff. "As long as he doesn't start insulting me like you always do."

"Thank you, Sir. And don't worry, he's just French."

"That's what worries me the most. C'me on, bastard. Move your arse, there's a pile of paper waiting for you."

"Oh, what a joy for my ears. See ye."

Soon the conversation was over and the mobile returned to his old place in the pocket. Arthur's hand shifted to the keys already inserted in the hole, while his eyes moved from the mirrors to Francis' face. Before turning the keys, he eventually decided it was better to have a talk face-to-face with Francis.

"There was something you wanted to discuss, isn't it?" He quietly asked, turning to have a complete view of his body, agitated by uneasiness. Francis wasn't much more comfortable than before. Actually, he was still looking for the right words to say, when a brave sigh flew out of his lungs, freeing him of part of his tension.

"Arthur... There's something bothering me about our friendship."

Arthur nodded, frowning on leaning on towards him. He wasn't completely at ease, but he needed to discuss it before something made them part."Please, go on." Why was Francis doubting their friendship so much lately? He wondered, looking for an answer in those wild eyes.

"D'accord, uh..." The words his messy mind had produced while dashing outside the station refused to reveal themselves again. Only a number of ghostly thoughts wheeled like a confused tornado in his brain, laughing at him gingerly. Arthur was looking more and more curious, even though a hint of concern had appeared at the angle of his mouth. "Arthur, I... I've got a problem."

His final confession was welcomed with a nod and a sincere look offering help, decorated with a gently-spoken question. "With me? I don't care if we're going to be late, let's just solve it together." He reassured in turning on the heat. It had strangely got colder inside of the car.

Even though Francis didn't manage to reply with a kind smile, his feeling more at ease had already calmed the vibrant tension inside of him. He licked his lips and let out a small breath. "Yes, Arthur. I've got... A problem with you."

What have I done? He wondered immediately, mortified by what he had just heard. He tried unsuccessfully to collect his thoughts on where he had gone wrong in their relationship, but none was enough relevant. Still, Francis' hands had already glided to his own and were now holding them tightly, assuring him nothing was wrong with him. Even if lulled by their sincere hold, his mind refused to stop revolving about the idea of being himself a problem for his best friend. "Where did I go wrong?" He asked shamefully, averting his eyes for he had not enough strength to look into his blue pools directly.

"Arthur, you did nothing. I assure you, you did nothing at all. Absolutely. The fact is that.. well..." Francis' front lowered, hiding his face behind the shadows of his hair. As Arthur's fingers returned the pression on his hands, Francis tilted his head to the side and raised it up again, showing a new strange sparkling in his eyes. He sighed and opened his arms to offer a hug, which was gladly yet unsurely accepted by the other. Arthur leant in, wrapping his arms around his waist slowly, letting the warmth of his body pierce through his own. Strange, he thought, why is Francis' heart beating so fast? His hand glided up to his shoulder and then down, trying to calm him without success, as its heart raced at an even quicker pace. Hushing him kindly, Arthur was still massaging his back moving his hand circularly, when Francis' breath reached his earlobe, along with his voice. "I'll be here for you, no matter what."

Hugging him closer, Arthur smiled on whispering back. "We're friends, of course we'll be there for each other." As soon as Arthur had spoken, Francis backed a little, until the point of their noses touched. His hands were still wrapped behind Arthur's back and his body was still curved on him, balancing itself only on one knee, but what Arthur couldn't decode was the mesmerizing way Francis' eyes were oscillating from right to left, until, tilting his head to the side, he let his lips caress his own.

-End Ch.14

"Good-night, good-night. Parting is such a swewt sorrow, that I shall say good-night till it'll be morrow." Thank you, Shakespeare. You're always useful.

AND... Ludwig's a policeman. Before you ask: they are using mobiles to communicate. It's forbidden to use the phone while driving (unless you use microphones or other), therefore Ludwig's warning Arthur that as a policeman, he's supposed to be the first following the law and NOT chatting on the phone while driving. Breaking this rule is sanctionated in my country and in many others, as well as in England. Thank you.