So, do you want to come in for a quick drink before you go?" Francis asks, peeking his head through the window of Bash's car.
Bash smirks before driving off and Francis scoffs lightly, turning to Mary and Jean with a shrug.
"I guess he doesn't," he says, pressing some sort of number code into the intercom.
The passenger gate creaks open and he steps through, Jean and Mary following him in the darkness before the path is lit up by automatic, motion detected lights. The gate creaks shut as they head further down the path and curve of the walking path.
When they reach the front door, Mary takes a moment, a smile forming on her lips when she looks at the familiar navy blue door. She looks around, the pretty fountain feature, roses of many colours and statues and sculptures...
"Are you okay?" Francis asks, using the large lion knocker.
"Yeah," Mary breathes out, turning to face him. "Just taking it all in. I remember this place. Like memories of when we were little coming back... It's like... Francis, it's like coming home."
Francis beams, chuckling softly before he presses a soft kiss on the side of her head before he goes to knock on the door instead. "Maybe they're deep down into the cellar. They do like their nightcaps."
The door finally opens five minutes later and Henry raises his brows in surprise as if he's forgotten that his child and grandchild were visiting. "Francis, Jean-Philippe! Enter, enter!"
They go inside, Mary following after Jean and looking around to see if she remembers anything.
"My parents remodel the place every five years," Francis whispers into her ear knowingly before his mother comes into view, screaming down the phone in Italian. "Maman!"
Then Catherine de Medici hangs up her call and puts her hands out, coming to cup her son's cheeks and kiss them. "My darling boy. You're looking fatter. What's all of this extra weight?" She asks, pinching at his waistline.
"Mamma, per favore!" He cries out, blushing.
"Who dropped you off?" Henry asks, eyeing Mary with intrigue in his eyes.
"A friend," Francis replies.
"Which one?"
Francis smiles wryly. "Jean, say hello to Pepe and Meme, please."
Jean nods, coming forward to hug his grandparents both, them giving the boy a big squeeze in return as Catherine presses a happy kiss on the top of the boy's head.
"We have missed you, chou-chou," Henry says, ruffling his hair.
Jean grins and tilts his head. "How much?"
Catherine gives him a wink, kneeling down to meet his eyes. "So, so much we got you..."
"Tickets to the zoo!" Henry finishes, finally turning to Mary.
Catherine's eyes land on her husband taking Mary's hand and kissing it. "Who's this?" She asks.
Henry nods. "Indeed, Francis. Who is this beautiful woman?"
Francis carefully takes Mary's hand, pulling her to his side a little. "Mary Stuart," he tells them, seeing their eyes widen in surprise. "My new girlfriend... Because I called the engagement off with Olivia."
He's ripped the plaster off and Mary gives them a small wave, laughing lightly when they eye her up and down in shock, coming to round the couple in disbelief.
"Marie de Guise's daughter, Mary?" Catherine whispers.
"That's the one," Francis says, his arm going around Mary's waist.
"Un moment," Henry says, dragging his wife off to a corner and speaking to her in hushed tones.
Francis turns to Mary, scratching the back of his head. "At least they've not screamed in my face," he says lightly. "Jean, go and find your bedroom. Mary and I will be up to tuck you in."
Jean nods, lugging his little suitcase up the stairs as his grandparents continue to speak in hushed tones. Francis and Mary merely watch on in silence, Mary using the time to study the space they're in.
"Right," his mother finally says, coming back to them with Henry. "Welcome home, Mary."
Mary smiles widely. "Thank you."
...
"I'm sorry," Mary says the next morning, sitting crossed-legged on Francis's double kingsize bed. "I'm just not feeling that much sociable."
Francis leaves the dresser, coming to crawl onto the bed to get to her and kiss her lips. "It's fine. I'll tell them you're tired. You can sleep here."
Mary blushes. "Won't your mother find that... unvirginal?"
"She knows I'm not a virgin," Francis says, laughing. "I think my nine-year-old son is evidence enough."
Mary tuts, playfully rolling her eyes. "But I remember her as this strict Catholic woman who forced the Bible down our throats before bedtime."
"Hey, Bible Study was fun!" Francis tells her, brushing her hair from her eye. "I missed sleeping beside you."
Mary cups his cheek. "Same. But I don't want to get on their bad side."
"You won't," he assures her. "My parents, they sing your praises."
"My mother's, you mean," Mary mutters. "I should tell them - my mother and brother. Soon because now your family know..."
"Next, my parents will be planning our wedding," Francis jests.
Mary furrows her brows before her eyes widen in panic and she ducks out of his grip.
"Mary?"
She gets off the bed and heads to the window, looking outside as she wraps her arms around her for comfort, her heart beating quickly, that it almost hurts. The anxiety is too much for her.
"Mary?"
"Would you marry someone like me?" She asks softly, her voice breaking. "Stupid, ugly me?"
Francis frowns now, coming to stand behind her as he joins her in watching the wildlife outside. "We're nowhere near marriage," he says quietly. "But I know I love you and you're clever. So clever, I feel like I'm an idiot when I try and catch up with your amazing wit and humour. As for your looks..." He turns her, cupping her cheeks. "I should take pictures every day so it lasts in my memory. Because you're ethereal and I'm truly the luckiest man in the world."
He kisses her softly, slipping her hair behind her ears as he gently and carefully directs her towards the bed. The back of her knees hit the side and he gently lowers her onto the bed and kisses her neck, undoing her shirt.
"I could thank God over and over again..." He continues, his breath making her shiver. "But we'll be here forever."
She laughs softly. "Oh, yeah?"
His lips land on her bare stomach. "So kissable and pure... You are no Virgin Mary but I can tell you know, you have her strength."
"Yeah?" She breathes out, her voice breaking as tears spring to her eyes.
Francis licks his lips and kisses her thighs now. "I love you," he whispers. "So much. Never doubt that." Tears spring to his eyes as he looks up to meet her eyes. "I don't want anyone to take you away from me. I'm not saying that to be possessive but you truly don't know your own worth and it's ridiculous because you're worth an infinite amount because you're perfection in live form. And when we get there, to marriage, I'll make you the happiest wife in the world, I swear it."
Mary smiles shakily, slipping his shirt off as she pulls him down for a kiss. "I'm going to need some more convincing..."
Francis laughs softly, meeting her lips as he almost tears her shorts off.
