Thanks for ready and leaving such lovely comments. Hope that you are all enjoying the story. As you have found by now, this is by no means an action packed sequence, but I am touched that you are reading it! Feel free to comment or review. Love hearing from all of you. I'll be away in London until the 18th - but rest assured more updates after that! And I think I have one more left in me for this evening so stay tuned! -Becca

Looking around, I chide myself on not remembering how absolutely breathtaking it is here at night. I'm trying to absorb as much as I can of this wonderful place, knowing that we leave tomorrow and this likely will be our last trip of the year.

A spring sunset is a sight to behold. The sky is alight with shades of deep red and orange that colour the land with a sultry cadence. The air here hangs redolent with the piquant aroma of the flowers and the fresh vines. I smile with the image in my head of some majestic deity coming down every morning and spraying the horizon with a cosmic perfume bottle.

"Mama," I look down to the little girl at my feet. She's completely covered in dirt; the only things that are clean are those pearly white teeth shining through her serene smile. She holds up her arms, one already occupied by the even dirtier form of Mr. Mosby.

"Well," lean over, hauling her into my lap. "What do we have here?" I get a giggled response as she hands me a small dandelion she's scavenged from the cracks in the cobblestone driveway. "Thank you, Kitten." I kiss her sandy brow. "Now," I look at her properly, "how on Earth did you get so dirty?"

"My, oh my!" I hear a familiar baritone voice before I see him sit next to me, "What do we have here?"

I look over at him with an expression of mock exasperation, "a very scruffy kitten."

"Someone's going to need a bath this evening before we leave tomorrow!"

I nod my head, properly looking at him bathed in the French sunset. He catches me staring, "What?" He whispers.

I shake my head, returning his placed grin, "nothing. You. I love you." I grab his hand as we both settle our attention on the laughter peeling out from the head of the dinner table.

"He didn't really do that, did he?" Wesley manages between undulations of laughter.

Robert has tears in his eyes, "I'm not kidding, Wesley. Jean Luc was quite a joker in his youth!"

"Oh no," Jean Luc asserts, "What fodder are you giving my son to taunt me with now, Robert?"

"Relax, Jean Luc," he gestures with his hand, "I was only telling Wesley about the time that you broke Mama's antique Tiffany lamp and blamed it on me!"

Jean Luc suddenly looks very penitent, "I'm very sorry about the Robert, but as you remember, I later repented."

"We're lucky that you were Mama's favourite son!"

Jean Luc laughs at the falsehood, "You and I both know that's not true! But," he suddenly becomes serious, "I think Mama realized that having two boys in the house was like having two stray puppies; you simply can't have nice things and expect them to last."

I turn to Marie on my right; she's enjoying this repartee as much as I am. She humorously cautions, "Now, now, Robert, remember that this can go both ways, and I don't want Renee learning all your foibles!"

Renee chimes in proudly, "too late!" and elicits a laugh from Marie. "Well," she cautions her son, "Mon petit puce, I don't want you using your father's bad behavior an excuse for your own."

Renee cringes at the use of his pet name, "I, Mama," he puffs out his chest, "am a model son!"

She laughs at the statement, "Ouis," she pinches his thin cheek, "You certainly are."

"So, Robert," Wesley refocuses the conversation, "What else did Jean Luc get up to?"

He takes a sip of his wine, beginning a stare-down with his younger brother. I see Jean's gaze, and it seems to scream a humourous, "don't you dare."

"Well, let me see, Wesley, there was the time that Jean Luc went missing for two days when he was 15. You will never imagine where he-!"

"I think that's enough," Jean Luc halts the conversation with a chuckle. "It's time for bed and we still need to give Saoirse and Aaron a bath."

Marie stands with Aaron cradled against her chest, "well I insist on spending a little more time with this little one! I'll give him a bath and put him to bed."

"Are you sure, Marie?" I look up.

"Absolument, Beverly. I want to soak up every moment I can!"

"Thank you." I whisper to her.

Jean Luc lets out a yawn as he takes his daughter into his arms. She's dropped, "Mosby," she points at the ground to her fallen comrade. "Saoirse," Wes starts, "Can we give Mr. Mosby at bath?"

She scrunches her nose and gives a very direct shake of her head, "No!" Drawing a laugh from all of us.

"Ouis, Jean Luc. Well," Robert gets up, "goodnight. We'll see you for breakfast tomorrow." He walks over to his Jean Luc, holding our little girl. "Goodnight, ma petite puce," he kisses Saoirse brow. "We are so glad that we have gotten to meet you." He drops his smile and becomes somber, "And you, Wesley. We're very proud to have to a part of this family. Thank you for coming to see us." He looks down before he continues. "And, eh, thank you, Beverly."

I stand and move towards them, "For what?" I whisper as I touch his arm.

He moves in to hug me, "For giving me back my brother and for sharing with us these three wonderful children."