Whoops, my bad! I thought I already posted this chapter, but I guess I didn't. It's kinda been done for awhile... Sorry for the wait.

…Alright, so Arthur had to admit that the frog's hole wasn't exactly a 'hole.' He happened to live in a rather classy two-story townhouse apartment looking over a quaint Paris square. His living room consisted of a modern black corner sofa, a matching loveseat, and a small spotless glass coffee table sitting on a beige colored rug. The floors were cherry hardwood and the small but comfortable kitchen was seen through an arch doorway. There was a large window letting in warm light from between silky curtains and a black railed spiral staircase circled up to the second floor. And was that a small bar next to the dining room? How did Francis have all of this from a simple flower shop job?

"Welcome to my home," the host said as he led Arthur inside, holding him around the shoulders so he wouldn't fall. He wasn't used to walking under gravity and with the lost weight of his wings. Francis noticed the other's awe and confusion and chuckled. "It may be small, but it is my home."

"I wouldn't call this small…do you share with a roommate?"

"No roommates. It is just me here, but I am rarely alone." He gave the other a little wink and set his work apron down on the hook by the door. Arthur stood in the living room taking everything in from the collection of shelves boasting pictures and small pieces of art to the huge surround sound speaker system hooked up to a plasma screen TV hanging on the wall. There had to be some reason for all of this expensive necessity. Arthur didn't put it past him to be some kind of crook.

Well, perhaps he could, but there had to be something wrong with this man. Arthur was trying to pinpoint what it was the whole way to Francis's home but so far he couldn't find anything. Not even after pushing his buttons a few times did he discover anything off.

Why was Arthur trying so hard to see his host's flaws, you may ask? Two reasons: there was something a little dark around the edges of his heart meaning he was a partaker in one of the seven deadly sins, and…well…Arthur had to stay on his toes around this man. He didn't know if the arrow would affect him but he didn't want to take the chance, so if Arthur found something to hold against the frog, it would give him a reason to dislike Francis. It was just a precaution, really.

"I have a guest room upstairs you can use. Make yourself at home," Francis said as he went into the kitchen. Arthur heard the water run for a moment and decided to follow with careful steps, seeing as he had nothing else to do. He didn't have any baggage or duties to attend to while they waited for Alfred to show up. All he could do was wait.

The kitchen was sleek with a stainless steel gas stove, marble counter tops, and a double door refrigerator far too big for a single man apartment. The dining room table was to the far left in front of sliding glass doors that led to a small balcony overlooking the street below. It was small but not cramped. Rather cozy, even. Francis saw Arthur eyeing his surroundings with a hand on the wall for balance and waited patiently for the verdict with a smug look. Though the angel wanted to wipe that smirk off his face, he couldn't deny that he was impressed. "Your place is…classy. You keep it well kept."

"Why, thank you! I do my best. I will tell my maid that you approve of her work."

"You have a maid, too?"

"Of course."

"Forgive me for sounding rude but I must ask how you afford all of this. Do you work more than one job?"

Francis laughed at the sheer thought of working more than one job a day. "Goodness no! The truth is that I was left quite a lot by my family. I am, how you say, set for life."

"Lucky you." Arthur took a seat at the table and looked over the edge of the balcony. The sun would be setting soon. "So why do you work if you don't need to?"

"I do it as a hobby," Francis shrugged and took the chair beside him. He'd poured himself a small glass of wine and swirled it around its crystal glass between his fingers while he followed Arthur's gaze. "I've worked many jobs, none for too long. There are so many things I want to try that I cannot sit still. From cooking to gardening and even massage." The last bit he said with an infliction as he put his eyes back to his guest. "You would be surprised the tasks my hands can do."

Arthur couldn't help but flush at that innuendo and scowl. "That isn't funny, frog."

"I thought angels were supposed to be nice!" Francis sighed dramatically and took a sip of his wine. "I was only trying to get you to laugh, m'ange."

"Yeah, well…I'm not the laughing kind."

"What do you mean? Is there no laughter in heaven?"

"No, there is plenty of laughter in heaven."

"Then why don't you laugh? I don't think I have seen you even smile once since you fell on me."

"I just…don't. There isn't much to smile about right now."

Francis was going to argue to the contrary when a certain sound made him hesitate. It was a grumbling whine that lasted for no more than a second. "Was that your stomach?"

Arthur looked down a little embarrassed with himself. He wasn't used to his body doing these things. "Uh, yeah. I think I am hungry." That is what the sharp pain in his abdomen was, right?

"So am I. I'll whip us up something quick and easy, shall I? What will you have?"

"Whatever you want I guess. I've never eaten anything before."

"Then I will treat you with some delicious French cuisine for your first meal! Oh, this is exciting! An angel will be trying my cooking, what an honor."

"Don't get too excited. I've seen what goes into French food and I am a little wary." Snails and eel heads were not at the top of Arthur's list.

000

Dinner was marvelous. Francis made a cod fillet with lemon and basil sauce that Arthur couldn't help but devour and the host watched with interest as the angel's face turned from one expression to the next. Taste was a whole new thing to him and he couldn't seem to get enough of it.

But then he made the mistake of offering some white wine, as was customary during supper. Arthur accepted it cautiously, and then decided he liked it. Of course now that he was mortal and he'd never had any alcohol in his life, it didn't take more than a sip or two for him to get tipsy. Francis was going to take it away but decided 'eh, why not?' and let him continue drinking, thinking it would be worth seeing an angel drunk. Perhaps it would loosen Arthur up.

"An' then he has the gall to call me a cherub! D'ya know how insulting tha' is? A cherub! Do I look like a bleed'n cherub to you? I'm a certified seraph, thank'ya very much." Arthur brought his hand down on the table (not hard but enough to make the silverware jingle) and Francis sat there trying to figure out what he could do to get Arthur off his tangent. It seems he wasn't that fun of a drunk after all, the guy only complained and ranted the more he drank. "An' there's anuther thing…what gives archangels the right to appoint seraphs that can't do their bloody jobs? I'm surrounded by idiots up there! If I were an archangel, you can bloody bet there would be changes. Hey…my glass is empty…"

"That will be all for you tonight," Francis said quickly and got up to clear the table.

He took the glass from Arthur's hand and put the bottle of white wine away while balancing the plates on his arms, much like an experienced waiter. Arthur was entertaining the idea of nudging him and seeing what would happen, but he decided against it. Instead he imagined the carnage of plates and dishes shattering on impact if Francis dropped them all and laughed instead.

Francis whirled around at the sound, still keeping everything balanced, and blinked. Arthur was laughing? Finally! It was about time he got to see that perfect face light up a little. Whatever he was laughing at, Francis thanked it. "Like I thought, mon cher, your laugh is like bells on the wind."

"Really now? Yours sounds like croaking. Haha!"

"That isn't very nice…"

"Neither are you."

"Who is giving you a home this evening when you have nowhere to go?" Francis gave him a look from the kitchen counter where he set the dishes down and corked the wine. Arthur crossed his arms over his chest, still half exposed from his flowing white garb that only covered half of him.

"Well…ya're the reason I'm here, anyway…"

Oh? This was news. Perhaps getting him drunk was a good idea after all if it got him talking. "And why is that?"

Arthur opened his mouth to answer but was suddenly cut off by a loud sound in the living room. It was Francis's door which was now slammed wide open against the stops he installed after years of this kind of entrance, and who should come waltzing in like he owned the place but Gilbert. Behind him was Antonio who was a little less rough but still just as intrusive.

"Hey Franny, hope you didn't forget boy's night! Kesese," Gil cackled. He was in his tight fitting black wife beater with matching black wrist cuffs and dark gray skinny jeans stuffed into tall combat boots, ready to party as always. The man was incredibly pale, had natural ashen hair, and striking red eyes. An albino, in short.

"There's a new club that popped up last week," Antonio added with a wide smile. He was also dressed up in a red button down, sleeves rolled up just below his elbows, and straight leg jeans. A thin checkered tie was loosely tied around his neck and his chocolate colored short hair was tossed to look like an organized mess. "I know the bouncer, so let's go!"

Francis dropped what he was doing and went into the living room to happily greet his friends. He gave Antonio a kiss on each cheek and received a friendly slug in the arm from Gil who didn't quite like that kind of greeting. He was German, what do you expect? "Bonjour! I am so sorry, I completely forgot! Something has come up, I have a guest."

"A guest?" Both men looked over Francis's shoulder to see Arthur still sitting at the table looking intrigued at what was going on in the living room. His cheeks were obviously a little flushed from the alcohol and Francis realized he was still in his angel attire.

Gil walked right into the dining room with a hurt expression and gave Arthur a look over. Before Arthur could ask him what the bloody heck he was staring at, Gil turned back to Francis and whined like a child told he wasn't going to the zoo after all. "Whaaaat? Couldn't you wait until after the party to bring someone home?"

Antonio followed suit. "What is he supposed to be? Did you get him from a toga party or something?"

"I say!"

"And he's British, too. Wow, Franny. Your standards went down."

While watching Arthur's face scrunch up in a mix of horror, anger, and disgust was hilarious, Francis knew he had to correct them. "Heh, no that isn't quite what this is. Arthur is staying the night because he recently fell on hard times."

Arthur snorted. "Ya sure are a hard time, ya bloody frog."

Francis ignored him and simply chuckled. "You have to excuse him. He's had a bit too much to drink this evening. Sorry guys, but I won't be able to go with you tonight."

Gil's red eyes went wide and he looked at his friend as if he just witnessed a murder. "But…but Francis! This is a tradition! You can't break tradition; we've been doing this every weekend since college!"

Antonio shook his head making his tie bounce. "We have canceled before, amigo. Don't be so dramatic."

"Yeah but those times were different. Someone would get sick or their parents would be in town or something."

"I am sorry, Gil, but I have to help Arthur. He has nowhere else to go," Francis shrugged. Gil continued to protest, though.

"Why not jus' go with em?" Arthur said after hearing the three bicker. "I'm fine here by myself, I'm not helpless."

Francis shook his head. "You are drunk. What if I leave and you get yourself into trouble? Or worse yet, you throw up on something important! I cannot have that."

"I'm not gunna to do anything, I'll jus' go to bed," Arthur rolled his emerald eyes and started to stand up. Of course, his drunkenness didn't help with his already awful balance and he proceeded to fall over immediately. Antonio was the closest and caught him in the nick of time.

"Wow, you are right. You probably should stay here with him, Francis. He doesn't look too good." Francis helped Antonio move the drunk man to the couch and let him fall on it, the Brit complaining the whole way. Meanwhile Gil was staring as if contemplating something.

"So who is he, anyway?" the albino asked. "I've never seen him before and you don't talk about any Arthurs." Francis was suddenly put on the spot and he nearly stumbled over his words. Nearly. Francis was a wonderful liar, a skill he was thankful to have. It helped him out of many sticky situations in the past.

"He's Eliza's friend. She asked me to take care of him while her and Roddy are on vacation." Eh, it was close enough to the truth.

"She," Arthur mumbled with his face in a pillow.

"I beg your pardon?"

"She!" he said again as if the others were morons. "Ya said 'her and Roddy' when it should be 'she and Roddy.' Imbeciles…"

Everyone stared for a moment before Gil started up. "Are you serious? Francis, you have to admit that your time would be better spent with us."

Francis was having a hard time finding any reasons to the contrary, but he knew that he couldn't just leave. "You are right, but unfortunately if my boss finds out I left him alone like this, she would be selling my head in a pot. Je suis désolé, gentlemen, but I have to decline."

Antonio took Gil's arm and nudged him towards the door knowing his friend would probably keep trying to convince him if they didn't leave soon. "Alright, we'll catch you later then. I'll send you any blackmail material I can get on Gil, sí? Have a good night!"

"Yeah, have a good night with that. Kesesese!" Gil laughed his way out of the apartment and Francis shut the door behind them with a smile, wave, and a goodbye. He really was looking forward to their weekly party all day, but sometimes things just come up. There were plenty more Fridays to come.

With the rowdy crew gone the apartment was quiet again. Arthur stretched his limbs but ended up falling off the couch with a thump. "Ow! Blast it all…"

Francis sighed and sat on one end of the couch then hoisted his company back up. "Mon dieu, Arthur! You only had one glass of wine, and it wasn't even that potent."

"Well I haven't ever had alcohol before or any kind of drug for tha' matter." Arthur blushed in embarrassment but it was mostly hidden by the drunk one already there. Not even a day on Earth and he was already intoxicated. Smashing. "Ya didn' have to stay, ya know."

"I know, but I wanted to. Can't have an angel all alone in his time of need, can we? People have guardian angels but who watches over the angels?"

Arthur scoffed. "What dumb question. God, of course. An' guardian angels don' quite work like tha'. We usually don' leave heaven…which isn't a place, by the way."

"What do you mean? Heaven doesn't exist?"

"It exists. Just not like how ya might think. Heaven is all around, ya jus' don' see it."

"Hm. That sounds…nice. So what is heaven like, Arthur?" Francis asked curiously. Arthur paused before saying anything making him think he wasn't going to answer.

"It's warm…" he said softly with a look of longing, "…and there's light everywhere. It's peaceful…quiet..."

Francis smiled at the calm look on the other's face as he leaned back into the couch. "I can see why you would want to go back. Earth must be hell for you."

"Absolutely not," Arthur argued to the contrary. "In a way, Earth is the heaven for us angels."

"But why?"

"Because those here're loved unconditionally, while we flutter around know'n tha' if we make one mistake we become a fallen. If I don' get back soon, tha'll happen to me."

"Ah, I understand." Francis only understood to a point, but it was something. He didn't know what happens to a fallen but he didn't want it to happen to Arthur. "If you need any help at all, I am here. Oui?"

Arthur gave a short laugh (or was that a hiccup?) and let his head roll back so he could close his green eyes. There was the smallest hint of a smile there. "Thanks, 'Franny.' Ya know, ya're friends're tossers."

"Yeah, I know. Now come on, let's get you to bed."

000

The next morning was started by Arthur who woke up groaning and holding his head. "Aggghhhh…blimey! Is this a hangover? Ohhh…I'll never drink again…"

Artie and his drunken antics. Lololol.