Arthur found himself pacing in front of his desk and distantly worrying that he was wearing out the carpet. He was lucky to have woken up refreshed last night considering how long it had taken for him to fall asleep. Every time he shut his eyes, all he could see was photos from the scrapbook and all he could hear was his conversation with Amelia on repeat. It was quite a restless night. It wasn't like him to second guess himself like this.

But he had a moment to himself now and he feared if he sat his fatigue would catch up and he wouldn't stand again. After a long morning full of appointments and previous engagements, he thought he'd finally be able to have a break before he was expected to make his next appearance and carry on the show.

Oh how wrong he was. This break was anything but relaxing.

The his boys, were still *gone. Who knows where they could be. They might have been halfway to France by now! (God forbid.) Yet he hadn't heard a word from them. Really, it should've crossed his mind earlier that he would need a way to contact them but now he was left with no way of reaching them and it was starting to get to him.

As soon as they got back, he would be making them put his number into their phones. Or he'd demand their numbers. Or both, just in case! And if they refused then he'd have to invest in tracking devices. Yes, that seemed reasonable.

But that wasn't anything he could do now. They were gone now and it was getting to him. Maybe it was desperation, but he could only think of doing one thing.

The phone was ringing before he knew it and he wasn't ready when the call went through-

"Hello again Arthur," Amelia sang with an intrigued voice from the other end of the phone. "How's it going? How's London? Are you having fun with the boys?"

"The boys are certainly having fun alright," he vented, getting straight to the point, "are you aware they went off on a motorbike and haven't been seen for 6 hours!?"

"Oh, what's the time over there?"

Arthur was relieved that Amelia sounded concerned, thankful to have someone understand this strange feeling that was overtaking him-

"Oh, it's only like 2-something," Amelia laughed dismissively. "If it's still daylight then it's not really a problem, right? Are you worried that they're going to get robbed or shanked or something?"

How could she not see the problem with this?!

"5 hours and not a word!" Arthur stressed. "Did I forget to mention they have befriended a Frenchman? And they left with him! On his motorbike!"

"Ohh how exciting," Amelia giggled, not matching his tone at all. If anything she was making him feel insane! "Oui oui, I know Matthew has been very eager to learn French, how exciting for him! He must be very pleased about this."

"This is serious! Not only is he French, but the boy is in a band!"

"That's cool!" She said supportively, which was not the reaction he was hoping for. "Lemme guess, a drummer?"

"Amelia..."

"Hey, am I right? I need to know if I'm right." She laughed teasingly. "What's the problem? I remember you rode a motorbike."

"That's different..." Arthur felt heat rise in his face. At least he knew he was careful when riding! These days they just let anyone on the roads! That's not to say the boy was a poor rider but a motorbike isn't exactly safe! It was a death trap on wheels! Oh, that thought made his shoulders tense impossibly tighter.

"You know, I was really worried when they left... I-" She stopped herself and Arthur furrowed his eyebrows. "Obviously now I see how wrong I was... You really care for them."

"Excuse me?" Arthur reflexively said. "That would imply that I wouldn't care for them. How couldn't I?"

It was a horrible thought. How could he not care for them? Sure, he didn't know them very well... but he only just learnt of their existence! Cut him some slack.

Oh- did his boys think he wouldn't care? The thought hurt more than he expected and left him with the feeling that he had to correct it through any means necessary.

"You're worried about them, aren't you?" Amelia said, snapping him out of his thoughts. "That's what this is."

"...does it ever go away?" Arthur asked. The feeling... it was a lot. It was new.

But it felt right.

"No, but... you get comfortable with it?" Amelia said. "I'm still worried but I guess since I've been worried before and it's turned out alright before... so I've learned? I can convince myself that I'm just overreacting. Just give it some time Arthur and you'll see-"

Arthur jerked, almost like he'd been caught doing something he wasn't supposed to when Glynnis burst through the door.

"Arthur! Arthur!"

He felt a flush of guilt as he realised he didn't want to be caught speaking to Amelia. He told himself he wasn't doing anything wrong despite the feeling. Because he wasn't. He was just speaking too... an old friend. One that he, for some unknown reason, felt compelled to hide like a dirty secret even though she certainly wasn't.

"I'm sorry, I have to run," he quickly spoke into the phone before hanging up. Even if it pained him to do so, feeling quite rude for the abrupt end to such an honest and enlightening conversation.

"Darling, you'll never guess. I just had a long conversation with a Bedouin translator," Glynnis said, her excitement evident and strangely short of breath. "And apparently there are certain types of drums which indicate an actual marriage, whereas others they just merely use for mating rituals!"

She looked desperately pleased as if that piece of information was more urgent than it was. Like it warranted her bursting through the door and forcing Arthur to hang up on Amelia.

Arthur, having been taught that if you don't have anything nice to say, then don't say anything at all, only stared. Very judgmentally. With his infamous stiff upper lip. Because where the hell was that coming from? He knew what it was in response to, he could see the relevance of her sudden interest but he couldn't help but feel a little ticked off. Glynnis hadn't mentioned Amelia since the boys were sleeping under his roof and now she was blurting that out?

"Don't you see what this means?" Glynnis continued, "You and Amelia were never married! You never had a real wedding at all! So there's nothing to interfere with our plans, is there darling? Isn't that good news, Arthur? Arthur?"

That... pained him. That wasn't good news at all!

Good heavens, he needed a pot of tea. Possibly therapy and a long vacation in Spain without an internet connection. Good grief, what had become of him? Why was he feeling things he didn't understand?

It was a good thing he hung up. If Amelia had heard the bullocks that Glynnis had sprouted then he'd simply pass away from embarrassment. She'd tease him about it, like she used to and now Arthur found that he missed that. What good was it to be fond of the past?

Alfred was drunk. It was a feeling he had never experienced before and yet he could say with certainty that was exactly what he was. Drunk. And much to his delight, so was Matthew.

"Hooooly shit, Mattie, check this out," Alfred stumbled from the table outside the pub that they had been drinking at for the past hour and Alfred revelled in how the world seemed to tilt like a ride on an amusement park as he crashed into his twin. "Mattie, fuck, why didn't you tell me sooner that 18 the drinking age? Fuck, that's so good I take it back about me saying that England's kinda fucked because this is so much gooder."

Alfred knew that Francis, who was completely sober, was finding much entertainment about his condition but Alfred did not care. Not when nothing mattered because everything would always be okay!

"Did you know the drinking age in some European countries is 16?" Francis said smugly. "How do you feel about that?"

"That's sooo good and sooo jealous!" Alfred said as he leaned all the way into Francis' space. "How is that fair? Now I get why some people say America's better than Eurpop... I mean the other way around. You know what I mean."

It was busy at the pub and the street was alive with evening activity, which Matthew had been zoning out and watching as he slowly felt himself being dragged under by the effect of alcohol. He also noted that he was more comfortable than he'd ever been and his head was quiet. When he was just tipsy, he imagined that feeling was what it was like to be normal. He expected that if he got too comfortable when he was drunk and became really chatty because all his suffocating inhibitions had been eroded, then that was what it would be like to be Alfred. And now that he was drunk and felt lighter than air, he saw the dangerous appeal of getting drunk and could see how it was a slippery slope.

At first, he thought was a contemplative drunk, which he found a little bit boring to learn because he was contemplative when not drunk. But then Alfred insisted that Matthew do shots with him and that pushed Matthew over from being tipsy to properly drunk and he found it interesting that he was what he perceived normal Alfred to be.

"I have achieved normality," Matthew explained as he leaned on the table and dug his nails into the wood to make sure he could see properly. It was weird.

"Fuck yeah my dude," Alfred went to high-five his brother but his hand ended up going somewhere past Matthew's shoulder so it turned into a hug.

"Should I talk to those people over there?" Matthew mused aloud as he struggled to turn and point while holding both his and Alfred's weight.

"Whom?" Alfred struggled to look.

"I think you should," Francis encouraged. He had been doing a lot of encouragement today, especially since arriving at the pub and had been hyping the twins up to get drunk. Something he could do since he was the one driving and now benefitting from the twin's drunken stupidity.

"The people with the dog," Matthew explained.

"Doggie!"

As both the twins stared at the dog with wonder from afar, the dog suddenly made a throwing-up sound as it coughed which made both brothers break into laughter that almost toppled them and the table.

"Fuck, that's you guys when you're speaking French," Alfred joked.

Matthew slapped him and Alfred reacted just in time to lick Matthew's hand, who wiped it back on him. Francis, an only child, was shocked.

"No that's me when I'm using the bathroom after you!" Matthew countered and pointed a finger in Alfred's face so he knew it was Alfred he was talking about.

Only child Francis put his head in his hands and he didn't know if he should laugh or cry from laughing too hard. This worked out better than he could ever imagine and he didn't need to drink when his new favourite friends were putting on a show just for him. He would so be teasing them about this later.

"Hooooly shit, Mattie," Alfred's face was pure amusement as he pointed at Francis. "He's sooooo embarrassed by us!"

Even Matthew had a mischievous look of barely aware amusement as he and Alfred silently communicated something through their broken laughter.

The pair spend the rest of the evening trying to embarrass Francis with their actions, completely oblivious to how the Frenchman was egging them on and only pretending their actions had an effect on him. Little did they know that Francis already had no shame and he was recording the highlights to show them once they were sober. He had a feeling the twins might be crippled by shame then... Especially poor Matthew, Francis might have to be careful what he showed that boy otherwise there was a chance Matthew would die of embarrassment. Francis simply couldn't have that happen, not when Matthew so so earnestly learning his beautiful language. And he might decide to never drink again and that would be a damn shame.

If it wasn't for the twin's adamant insistence earlier (before they were drunk out of their mind) that the day had to end before dinner time with Arthur (an event they insisted couldn't be missed), then Francis would've had no reservations in dragging this night on for as long as it could last. But he was a man of his word and kept promises and after one last drink, he was loading the twins back onto the motorbike.

"Shout out to you Francis," Matthew said as he tightly hugged Francis from behind. "You're a great tour guy. I think you should know that. Maybe if you can't become a musician you should do that."

"Yeah, special thanks for allathis." Alfred leaned over to pat the top of Francis' helmet. "You're my favourite French person."

"You flatter me, you're my favourite American and Canadian. Now promise you'll hold on!" Francis said as he revved the engine solely to entertain them before driving well under the speed limit for their sakes. He was aware that they were drunk after all. But he couldn't wait to see the look on Arthur's face when he realized what state his sons were returned in. After the meeting this morning, it seemed that Arthur had his reservations about Francis and since Francis wasn't concerned about approval from the upper class, he didn't care about working hard for that man's approval.

Because dropping the twins off drunk out of their minds would certainly gain him the opposite of approval. But it would certainly amuse the three of them at Arthur's expense.