Tesco: Supermarket in the UK. More or less like WallMart...

Artists: Skin – Purple; Arctic Monkeys: Snow Patrol – Chasing Cars; The Beatles- Hey Jude; U2 – Sometimes you can't make it on your own.

Good Luck to Strangers

I want to be happy.

I want to be happy.

I want to...

Lily dashed outside the office as soon as Arthur and Francis walked past the door. They must've left their jackets there, she thought in stepping down the stairs, tapping her feet loudly as if she had been dancing with crystal shoes.

Calling a colleague of hers from the stairs, she had the lift going up to the sixth floor. Sure this would slow them down, she rushed down the stairs to get to her desk. There, she printed an extra-copy of the document confirming the tickets were valid, signed it with a flow of her pen and waited anxiously for the two of them to arrive.

Soon after the two of them exited the sliding metal doors, Arthur wearing his usually "annoyed by everything that speaks"-look and Francis showing an unusual shade of sombre ocean-blue in his eyes.

"Arthur!" Lily cried in approaching the two of them, waving the sheets in the air. "You forgot to take these!"

Kindly smiling at her, Arthur glared at the sheets. "Thank you, Lily. You really shouldn't have."

Lily's face lit up at the moment, while her thin young body graciously danced away before their eyes. "Have a nice flight." she spoke softly before disappearing into the lift. Little bastard.

Not even bothering to skim through those copies, Arthur handed them to Francis, who mechanically folded them until only a blank space was to be seen. White has never been purer, he thought on walking past Arthur outside the building.

The sky had turned grey and cloudy again, threatening to cry on every misfortuned head finding himself outside in the rain. Arthur sighed, biting his lips. The anger he had been feeling all along had been replaced by a deep sense of guilt and now he was desperately looking for the right words to say, coming up with none. Francis wished to tell him something, anything, but seeing him so lost in his thoughts deeply discouraged him. Silently, they reached the car under a thousand of peeking eyes.

When they eventually sat down on the front-seats, Arthur let his mask drop dramatically. "Francis, I-I'm sorry for what happened." His jade eyes were shaking with his voice, always too uncertain, always too doubtful.

Behind his shaded eyes, Francis looked quite puzzled. Sighing, he reached out to delicately touch Arthur's cheek. "Arthur, will you ever stop apologizing? I do not care for what Ludwig said. I love you, that's the only thing that matters."

Arthur swallowed, smiling. "You love me?" There was something foreign and magical in those words. They attracted him immensely and yet, they sounded so strange and nonsensical. But Francis smiled sweetly and there was light glistening in his eyes. How could he not believe what he said?

"I love you, Arthur. I love the way you speak, you move, you smile. I love the sound of your laugh, the challenging smirk you always wear, the glimmering of your emerald eyes. I love your hair, your skin, your... lips..." Francis licked his lips, breathing slowly. He lowered down his eyes to glance at his hands caressing Arthur's, slightly scraping their skin. Staring into his eyes, he whispered on. "I want to spend my nights kissing your mouth over and over and then going down, sucking and nibbling your neck until it's all red and purplish and then go down again, exploring your chest with my wet lips. I'll leave humid marks all along your torso and when I'll get to your navel, I'll draw circles round it with my tongue before shifting down again, where..."

"Stop it!" Arthur shouted in retiring his hands. "Stop it..." He repeated panting, covering his flushed face with his hands. Staring into those deep-blue eyes, hearing his seductive honey voice,... And his hands holding his own in a grip as if... as if they were there, in his bed, without clothes, without worries. Together, ready for love.

Arthur swallowed, concentrated on steadying his breathing. He coughed, inserted the keys and turned on the engine. "Are you alright with going to Tesco for some shopping? Yao asked to buy him some water and the shops close at 5.00."

Francis smiled at his slightly quivering voice, before sitting composedly on his seat. "You and me doing shopping? I can already see us quarrelling over the brand of milk to buy!" Still, after a second he clapped his hands together, adding enthusiastically. "Like a long-time married couple!"

"Belt up!" Arthur's face hadn't had the time to regain his natural ceramic pinkness, that it turned even redder than before. "I never said I'm going to marry you." He replied without looking at his smiling face, steering the wheel to exit the parking. "We're not even engaged!"

"But you would like to be, wouldn't you?" Francis commented teasingly in moving his right hand to rest on Arthur's thigh.

Glaring both at him and at his hand without actually doing nothing to remove it, Arthur sneered more for the embarrassment at his bluntness than at the comment itself. "Wanker."

Smiling victoriously, Francis let his fingers slowly massage Arthur's skin. "I know I would."

"You would what?" Arthur asked without thinking, interested more in keeping up the conversation than in saying something even more compromising.

"Like to be with you. Dunno, do the shopping, have dinner together, quarrel over who's going to wash the dishes... This kind of things." Francis smiled in shifting his arm behind his head, imagining how fun it'd be to cook for a grumbling Arthur.

Glaring at the hand sliding down his tight, Arthur let his fantasy flow to the point he could see them early in the morning arguing over the only croissant left. Either Francis kisses me and have it or I grab it and stuff my mouth with it. Ah-ah. Yes, only the crumbles will be left behind! "And since you're worse than a woman, someday I'll have to buy you a ring or whatever."

Francis' head turned, so his eyes could swallow his figure completely. "You'll buy what?"

"A ring." Arthur glanced at him, smirking. "I'd rather buy you a lash, but it'd be too showy."

Not losing sight, Francis seriously pondered the proposal. "I never considered the idea of being offered jewellery. Not by you, anyway."

"Why, I'm not a mean person, if that's what you're trying to say." Arthur replied, smiling at Francis brightened-up face.

"That's not the point. It's just... Well, ain't I the one supposed to buy you a ring?" A cold silence fell within the car, with Francis unable to speak some more and Arthur looking annoyed.

"What do you mean by that?"

Francis turned his head to the front, searching the sky for the right words. Still, no cloud answered him. He sighed. "Nevermind."

Arthur frowned. He was about to say something along the 'No, we're discussing this no matter what'-line, when he spotted a supermarket on the left side of the street. "Here we are."

He parked, turned off the engine, exited the car. In his heart, he missed Francis' contact on his skin. Fortunately, as if he had read his mind, the other's fingers stroked the palm of his hand asking for warmth. Ludwig's at work, so are Lily and Vash, Yao's at home... Clutching his hand despite the awkwardness, Arthur felt a strange mixed-up feeling of victory and satisfaction running through his chest.

"We're not done with that discussion." He warned in approaching the line of trolleys.

Francis sighed, helping him with his free hand. "Can't we just move on and forget about it?"

"Fine. But only because I would be right anyway." Arthur stated proudly in pushing the trolley inside the supermarket.

Pushing as well from behind the moving cage, Francis frowned in being welcomed by the flashing colours inside that heated-up place. "You're kidding, aren't you? Of course I would've been undoubtedly right, had we ever continued discussing!"

"Nonsense! You should've learnt years ago that I am never wrong! By the way, Yao asked for still water. Can you see it somewhere?"

"You're such a child sometimes." Francis muttered, before stretching up his neck to have a better view of the place, when he noticed a shop assistant moving some plastic bottles from a shelf to another. "Over there."

"Where, where there's that girl?"

"Hu-hu. She might be working here, maybe she can help us."

Nodding, Arthur turned the trolley to the right and pushed it forward to the young woman with an uniform. "Mh, right. And I'm not a child."

"Yes, you are."

"Says the one who seeks comfort in pillows." Arthur replied harshly. He soon regretted what he'd said, seeing the hurt look on Francis' face. "Hey.. Sorry. I didn't mean.."

"That's fine." On his face a small reassuring smile appeared. Arthur was right, after all. Using a pillow to protect yourself is quite vile. "You're right. But only this time."

With a smile blooming on his face, Arthur called the young woman working. "Excuse us, Miss. Where can we find some bottles of still water?"

Straightening up, the shop assistant had the chance to notice their entangled fingers, blink, think something sexist, glare at them as they were abnormal monsters and cough, pointing to the side. "See those blue bottles over there? That's where you can find some."

"Thank you very much." Answering with fake kindness, Arthur hurried to the end of the shelf, dragging Francis along with him. Bitch.

"Forget her." Francis said in reaching out for a plastic package of six bottles. "She's not worth your anger. She'll soon grow up, find a speaking monkey, get pregnant, marry him, have kids, end up frustrated and in this all, she'll just go on listing and trying to find a random empty place for plastic bottles."

Arthur smiled, peeking back at the meaningless young woman. "I hope she gets cancer."

Francis placed the bottles in the trolley, smiling as the liquid inside of them moved as a sea during a storm. "It's not nice to wish good luck to strangers, Arthur."

Turning to face Francis, Arthur harshly replied. "It's even worse to wish unhappiness to lovers."

Without answering, Francis regained his place to his side. "Do you need anything else? Since your fridge seemed somewhat full..."

"No, actually not. Let's pay for this stuff and get going, shall we?"

Listening to the repetitive background music, they talked briefly about what they usually had for breakfast, queued, paid, exited. Arthur made a couple of comments on the look of the people waiting in line behind them and Francis replied with the same uncaring attitude.

"Are you sure you don't want some help?" Arthur said in walking to the car, glancing at Francis, who had offered to carry the bottles all by himself.

"Nah, I'm fine. Just open the car."

"As you wish. Still, as I was explaining to you before, I'd rather be ignored than hated for my choices." Arthur answered in pushing the opening button.

"I think that's a valid position, but only in certain situations. You can't accept to be always ignored, even if your ideas are opposed." In a moment Francis charged the car and walked to the front seat, where Arthur was waiting for him.

"I don't know. Maybe it's just me, but I don't like being at the centre of the attention." Arthur started the engine and drove to the exit. "When's your flight, by the way? I'm sure we're not late, but I can't recall the exact time."

"You're the centre of my attention, like it or not." Smiling at the comment, Arthur glanced at him unfolding the signed sheets. "We still have two hours and a half before it takes off."

"Perfect. The airport isn't too far from here..." We might even save some time for us. "Say, what are you planning to do once at home?"

By the time Francis' hand had already regained its place on his thigh, exactly where it was meant to be. Thinking for a few moments, in the end Francis decided there was only a thing he would surely do once in Paris. "I'll have a shower, cook something and call you. I'll probably text Belle, for she's been waiting for a call all day and not asking how she is would prove I'm a terrible Prince Charming. Still, what's sure is that at a certain point you'll see my name popping up on the screen of your mobile phone."

"What if I don't answer?"

"Pick up the phone or your answering machine will never be the same."

"Okay, okay. I'll do my best to get your call." I'll be waiting for it all night. I know I will. I'm just this stupid. "What about some music?"

Nodding at the idea, Francis stretched out his hand to turn on the radio. "Let's hope there's something worth listening..."

"If not, there must be some CDs somewhere in this car."

Glancing at Arthur, Francis frowned. "Somewhere in this car?"

"Yes, somewhere in this car. Why, can't my CDs be lost somewhere in my car?"

Deciding it was better not to ask, Francis reserved all his attention to the radio. After pressing a couple of buttons, a decent song finally came up.

Purple washes over me
Seeping through my open seams
I'm stained all over

You pretend we've started again
Waiting for me to say when
But I say 'Purple'

"She won't go where I would go for you... Oh, please, change. This song saddens me!" Arthur protested in turning his head to the side. No, he needed something different, something powerful. Something...

All that I am
All that I ever was
Is here in your perfect eyes, they're all I can see

"If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world? ...Ow, it's already finished."

"It's such a sad and peaceful song." Francis commented briefly on smiling at Arthur.

"You can say it out loud! Let's hear what's next... Nah, I don't wanna listen to this crap. Change, please. Let's find something that suits our taste."

"Ow, but I liked it!" Glaring coldly, Arthur made sure Francis stopped complaining. "Fine, as you wish. Hey, what about this one?"

Hey Jude, don't make it bad.
Take a sad song and make it better.
Remember to let her into your heart,
then you can start to make it better.

"Hell, yeah! I love this song! Hey Jude, don't be afraid. You were made to go out and get-"

"Him." Arthur got silent, listening to Francis sweetly serenading to him. " The minute I let you under my skin, then you begin to make it better. And any time you feel the pain, hey Artie, refrain, don't carry the world upon your shoulders."

"The Beatles will come and get you." Arthur warned coldly in changing song again. It was already embarrassing enough to have him singing love-songs, did he also have to change the lyrics?

"I'm willing to come to England in Lennon's car any time. Still, that guy creeps me out..."

"He does, doesn't he? It must be his eyes. Or his terrible Liverpool accent! Or.. Hey, I know this song. What's it called? Mmmh..."

Where are we now?
I've got to let you know
A house still doesn't make a home
Don't leave me here alone...

"'Sometimes you can't make it on your own'!"

"U2, right?"

"Yes. Since when you listen to them?"

"Your fault. It's all your fault for spoiling my taste in music."

"Spoiling? Darling, I believe it just got extremely refined!" They both smiled to each other unable to speak some more, turning to contemplate the grey streets disappearing behind them and waiting for the song to end. When Bono was still singing the last line, a plane flew above them. The airport was just a few minutes away and the thought wrenched Arthur's heart slowly and painfully.

-End Ch.18

NB: Comments are very appreciated (and all of them are answered)