"You'll have Adam."

Madeline closed her eyes, too late to stem the flow of emotion that left her raw and exposed. "Is that what you told him" she whispered incredulously. "That was his choice, him or Adam?"

"Madeline" he sighed wearily, shaking his head. Unable or unwilling to continue the thought.

"I can't let you do this."

"I'm sorry, Madeline."

"Why you would put us through this again?" she whispered.

"I'm sorry" he mumbled again softly and headed for the door.

****************

When the doorbell rang Paul made a show of racing Nikita to the door. As she was about to reach out and open it, Paul slid in beside her and with a gentle nudge of his hips managed to knock her off balance. Laughing in triumph he swung the door open with gusto and grabbed her hand to steady her.

"Bully" Nikita giggled as she turned to greet their guests.

"Hello Niki, Paul" Adrian smiled as she entered. Her eye's moved back to Paul, raking over the frilly apron he was wearing over his clothes.

"Very chic" she smiled, passing him a bottle of wine.

Paul laughed and pulled it over his head. "Niki gave it to me for mothers day last year" he shrugged. He looked back through doorway. "Where are the others?"

"Madeline's just getting some things from the car."

"I'll go and help" Nikita smiled and ducked out the door.

Adrian leaned closer to Paul and said quietly, "I hope you were serious when you asked Madeline to bake a few things. She's spent the morning in the kitchen whisking up a storm. Cooking therapy, I fear."

"What's happened?"

Adrian sighed. "The boy's were supposed to spend the weekend with Charles but something happened and he brought Adam home before dinner. He and Madeline had a rather heated argument before Michael arrived home." Adrian sighed again, shaking her head sadly. "I can only guess that something has happened between Michael and his father. He left early this morning after a tense scene with Madeline to spend a few days with his father. I don't know all the details, she'll tell me when she's ready."

Paul grimaced and turned to look out the door. "My worst nightmare" he muttered softly, "I don't know how I'd keep going if Niki was taken away from me. As much as I hate to admit it, I have some sympathy for Charles."

"Yes" Adrian agreed and squeezed his arm, "there are no winners in these situations, but don't waste you sympathy before we know all the facts. I'm telling you because I know you care for her very much and she needs all the support we can give her at the moment."

"Of course, I'll do whatever I can."

"I knew I could depend on you. But let's not worry or fuss over her, that's not what she needs now" she said firmly, directing Paul towards the kitchen. "Have Walter and Belinda arrived yet? I have the most splendid idea, let me tell you..."

The afternoon was sunny and pleasantly warm after the cool weather of the last week. The crowd Paul had invited along were mostly work colleagues and their families, the gathering celebrating someone's promotion. Adrian sat happily at the table watching a chaotic game of football that had started with the parents and children. Nikita had just passed Adam the ball. In a fit of giggles he had fumbled it, only to be scooped up onto Paul's shoulders, ball proudly in his hands as they scored a touchdown. Madeline laughed and clapped as she watched on, still talking animatedly to another couple on the edge of the ill-defined playing field. Adrian smiled with satisfaction and turned to Belinda who sat beside her.

"Not joining in?" she asked lightly.

"I'm not much of player, I seem to grow extra fingers and feet when confronted with a football" Belinda sighed.

"Then you'd be in good company out there" Adrian grinned.

Belinda smiled as just at that moment Walter fumbled the ball and in a hail of laughter chased off after one of the children that picked it up before he could get his hands on it.

"I'm glad to see he's all hands at football as well" she chortled shyly.

"You two are friends again?" Adrian asked gently.

Belinda nodded serenely. "It's hard to stay angry at Walter."

"I'm so glad" Adrian smiled. "I hated seeing him so miserable, as I'm sure you were too. He loves you so very much, my dear."

"I've always suspected, but it's taken the last few months to confirm it" she grinned.

"So, have you made any decisions about the wedding?" Adrian asked casually.

Belinda sighed and watched the activity in the backyard for a while before answering.

"Walter's agreed to our being married by Father Murphy. I'm so glad, it means so much to me. He's been friends with my family for years."

"I know, sometimes those small things make all the difference. And the venue?"

"No progress really. We thought of a number of places we'd be able to afford, but it turns out they're all booked out for months in advance. I had hoped we'd be able to organise it for next weekend, as we'd planned, but I think I'd resigned to fact that it's not going to happen so soon. Tuesday week my parents leave for an overseas trip they've been planning for the last year. They'll be gone for six months and I want them to be there. They've waited so long for this day and they're both getting on in years. I can't do it without them." Belinda brushed a tear from her eye. "I'm sorry" she mumbled as the tears started in earnest.

Adrian reached for one of the napkins on the table and passed it to Belinda. With a hand resting gently against her Belinda's back, Adrian waited for her tears to pass.

"I'm sorry, Belinda dear, I didn't mean to upset you" Adrian said gently.

"No... no it's alright. I seem to fall to pieces at the drop of hat at the moment. Sorry" Belinda mumbled into the napkin, wiping her nose.

"Perhaps I could make a suggestion" Adrian began, seeing her opening. "If having the wedding next weekend is so important to you, then might I offer my house for the ceremony. We could hold it outside. I'm very proud of my garden, and it's a beautiful setting at this time of year. The roses have just started blooming and the jasmine is intoxicating."

Belinda stared at her for an instant before wrapping her arms around her in bone-crushing embrace. "Oh, Adrian that would be lovely" she sobbed against Adrian's shoulder. Adrian smiled and patted her back softly.

"It would be my pleasure" she whispered, returning Belinda's hug. Her gaze caught Walters as she looked over Belinda's shoulder. He was standing with Madeline, both of them looking her way. She saw Walter make a rough swipe at an eye as Madeline put a friendly arm around his waist.

"Everything will be fine, you'll see" she said softly. Not so much to Belinda, as to her daughter who stood somberly, smiling sadly at her across the laughter of the afternoon.

**************

Nikita stared impatiently at the clock. All this clock watching over the last couple of weeks had given her a new appreciation of time. A minute seemed to take an extraordinarily long time to pass. Click, click, click. The seconds hand made another slow, tedious journey from twelve to twelve. Each second could be measured in the boring drone of Mrs Collins voice from the front of the classroom. Why was it then, she mused, that the weekends seemed to disappear in what seemed an instant. Quantum physics sucked, she decided.

As the seconds hand made it's final, leisurely circuit back to its origin a bell rang loudly and without another thought she was out of her seat and running down the corridor. She pushed through the sudden throng that appeared at the front doors and emerged into the sunlight. Victory, it tasted sweet. Taking a deep breath she looked around and saw Michael standing by the bike racks, a curious grin on his face. She laughed and ran down the steps towards him, embarrassed by what must have seemed odd behaviour.

"Hi 'Kita" he grinned, shaking his head in amusement.

"Hi" she mumbled shyly, taking his hand. "I ummm... I wanted to be outside today. Sometimes the need just grabs me." She shrugged, unable to explain it any better.

"I know" he smiled shrewdly. A finger reached across and dragged a strand of hair slowly behind her ear. "I know" he whispered this time, kissing her gently on the cheek.

"Jerk" she laughed, pushing him backwards. She started walking down the main path to road. Michael caught up to her, wheeling his bike with one hand.

"You're going home to your place today, right?" she confirmed, spinning around to face him.

"Oui" he nodded.

"You've gone all french and mysterious again since your father arrived, Michael" she stated, grabbing the collar of his jacket.

"You say that as though the two go together, ma douce" he smiled, taking the hand curled around his collar and raising it to his lips. "There are no mysteries here."

Nikita snorted and burst out laughing. "Very smooth, slick" she giggled. "C'mon, we have to motor. Over the last couple of days, I've discovered that underneath your grandmother's sweet old lady exterior beats the heart of Atilla the Hun."

"This way" Michael directed her across the street. "We have to pick up Adam on the way home."

Despite her earlier urgency, Nikita was happy to dawdle beside Michael.

"How much longer is your dad here for?" she asked.

"He's flying home on Sunday."

"When will you see him again? I can't imagine spending months away from my father. But I guess it's not really the same, with your mother here and all. You and your mother are so close, it must be hard. Am I going to get to meet him?"

"I don't know" Michael shrugged. "Maybe. It's no big deal, 'Kita."

"I guess, but I'm still curious."

They walked in silence for a while before Nikita started talking again.

"Do you hear from many of your friends back in France?" she asked cautiously. "I guess having your father here must make you think about where you used to live. You never really talk about it, but you must have some good friends that you keep in touch with. Friends like Mick and Carla... and me. Do you every think of going back to visit them?"

"Sometimes. I grew up there, it will always be part of me."

"But do you ever want to go back?"

"I told you, yes, sometime."

"I know you said that. But I was wondering if you were, you know, actually planning to go back there. To see you friends or someone special..."

Michael stopped and turned on her with an irritated frown. "Why are you asking me this?"

"I don't know. My father suggested..."

"Tell your father to stay out of it" he hissed angrily, "and you too Nikita. It doesn't concern you. I am so sick and tired of everyone *telling* me what's best for me. Doesn't anyone trust me enough to know that I can make decisions on my own? S'il te plaît, pas tu aussi? Cela briserait mon coeur." Suddenly embarrassed by his outburst he kicked savagely at a piece of grass in frustration. "Adam will be waiting" he mumbled, refusing to look at her, "I'll see you later." With that he jumped on his bicycle and speed off down the road.

In stunned silence Nikita watched him go. All the doubts of the last couple of weeks bubbling to the surface in the flood of tears that threatened to drown her.

**************

"I don't know about you, but I'm exhausted" Madeline declared, dropping into the lounge next to Paul.

"I second that emotion" Paul sighed, then added softly "and I'm only handling the wedding preparations." He reached over and wove his fingers through Madeline's. "How are you coping? Adrian's told me some of what's going on. This wedding must be the last thing you want to deal with at the moment."

Madeline sighed wearily and leaned her head back against the couch. "Actually, it's just what I needed to keep me busy." She gave Paul's hand a squeeze and moved closer.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked softly.

"Yes... and no. I feel like if I don't talk about it, I can pretend its not really happening. That everything is just the way it was. The only problem is that with the denial comes the realisation that things really are just the way they were, before we came here. It's not where I imagined we would be at this stage, going backwards instead of forwards." Her fragile attempt at a smile was soon replaced by a distracted frown as she pulled absently on a loose thread in one of the cushions beside her.

"Things don't always go the way we'd like them to."

"... my power at once shrunk from me; plans and schemes, and lofty hopes- all vanished" Madeline recited forlornly.

Paul smiled warmly and squeezed her hand. "You're so hard on yourself, easy to see where Michael gets it from." He pulled their hands up to his mouth and placed a light kiss on the back of Madeline's hand. "It can all be a bit overwhelming when things come back to bite you a second time. Brings on an attack of the 'what if's'. The thing is though, second time around you're always smarter and better prepared. My CO in Vietnam had a saying that he used to scowl, chewing on the end of his cigar as he poured over a map- 'different horse, same pile of shit'." Paul chuckled at the memory and squeezed Madeline's hand again. "I liked that, it always brought things back into perspective. He was quite a character."

Despite herself, Madeline let out a soft laugh. "Problem is, Admiral, some *piles* are bigger than others" she smiled.

"Yeah, but that's just topography, it doesn't change what you have to do. It just means it takes a little longer and you might be a little dirtier when you climb to the top. And you will climb to the top, Maddy, I have no doubts about that."

"Thank you" she whispered, "although I think I'm going to be cursing you over the next few days. It's going to be hard to get that analogy out of my head."

Paul laughed heartily and shook his head. "Lot's of showers, that was the only way I could shake it."

They were both laughing when Adrian entered with a tray of coffee and biscuits. She smiled warmly at Paul and poured him a cup.

"Black, one sugar?" she confirmed.

"Yes, thanks" Paul smiled taking the cup from her. "I know I'm boring you to tears saying this all time, but thanks so much for offering up your home for the ceremony and reception. I didn't even think of it. Walter just kept going on about the cabin and when Belinda said no to that, it didn't even occur to me to offer to have it at my place. But this is much better, you're garden is just lovely and I'm sure it's going to be a wonderful day."

"Thank you, but I can't take the credit for the idea. George suggested it in one of his more whimsical moments."

"Here's to the whimsical George then" Paul laughed, raising his cup.

Adrian raised her cup also. "To George and his whims" she smiled shrewdly

"What are you hinting at there mama?" Madeline challenged, one eyebrow raised in interest.

"Never you mind, dear. More coffee, Paul?"

"Sure, but I don't think you're going to escape that easily."

"Don't bet on that" Adrian grinned. "Adam's been teaching me a trick or two."

"Ahhh... you've been learning from the master" Madeline laughed. "But remember, Adam's maman knows all his tricks."

"Not all of them" Adrian winked and poured Paul's coffee.

"True. I still haven't discovered how he gets all those things in the shopping trolley without me seeing."

"I'll tell you one day" Adrian laughed.

"Niki used to do the same thing. I thought I was going crazy for a while there" Paul chuckled.

"I thought we might have seen her again this afternoon, she's been such a help this week" Adrian commented.

"No, she had some homework to finish. Though I suspect she and Michael might have had a little tiff after school. Those two seem to be at odds at the moment. I suppose it's just normal, and Michael must be a little unsettled with all that's going on" Paul mused.

Madeline nodded mutely and fidgeted with her tea-cup.

"Quite likely" Adrian agreed softly. She turned to Madeline and took the cup from her trembling hands and filled it, replacing it on the table in front of them. "Charles has asked Michael to go back to France with him for a while" she told Paul. "Michael hasn't made up his mind yet, as far as I know" she added, looking cautiously at Madeline.

"No, he hasn't" Madeline sighed, "as far as I know" she whispered.

"Ohh" Paul breathed. "That's a tough decision."

"Yes" Madeline agreed sadly. "Though Charles thinks the decision has already been made. That hasn't helped."

"No, I imagine it hasn't." Paul frowned and turned to Madeline. "You don't want him to go, of course."

Madeline almost laughed. "No, I don't want him to go, Paul. And as much as I want to scream and yell and tell him he can't, in the end it has to be his decision. The best I can do is to reassure him that he's not being forced to choose between us. That in itself is a challenge with the way Charles has been acting."

Paul whistled softly under his breath, the sound momentarily masking the noise of the front doorbell ringing.

"Who could that be at this hour?" Adrian frowned.

"I'll get it" Paul answered quickly, rising from the couch before the other two could protest.

He pulled open the door to the perplexed stare of a handsome, dark haired man. Paul's eyes did a rapid assessment, the familiar features too pronounced for him to be in doubt as to who this was. There was an awkward moment as both men took the measure of the other before Paul stood back and gestured him inside.

"Charles?" Paul guessed, his voice mildly sardonic.

"Bon soir, Charles Binoche" he replied, holding out his hand in greeting, a wry grin on his face.

Paul took the proffered hand in a firm grip, returning the smile with an ease that caught the other man off-guard.

"You have the advantage, monsieur" Charles replied in heavily accented english.

"Paul Wolffe" he replied, offering no further explanation in answer to the curious expression on the other mans face.

With an enigmatic tilt of his head, Charles looked past Paul to see Adrian coming towards them.

"You are a friend of Adrians perhaps?" Charles asked mildly.

"Something like that" Paul grinned and led the way back into the lounge room.

"Bon soir, Adrian" Charles smiled and nodded in greeting.

"Hello Charles, please come in" she gestured towards a chair.

"Merci." He glanced across to Madeline before stepping up to her and kissing each cheek. "Salut Madeline. Il est très tardif visiter. J'espère je n'ai pas interrompu des choses d'importance?"

"Non, ce n'est pas important, Charles" Madeline replied cautiously. "Please, have a seat. What brings you here?" Madeline resumed her seat, pleased when Paul sat down beside her, a little closer than good manners might dictate.

Charles noticed the gesture with a fleeting frown. "Michel called me a short while ago and asked if I could return some items he left behind in our suite at the hotel." He nodded towards a bag on the floor by his feet. "He needs them for school tomorrow, apparemment" he shrugged casually.

Madeline was about to comment about his choice of personal pronouns when Adrian jumped in.

"I was just making a fresh pot of coffee, Charles, can I offer you some, or perhaps some cognac or a port?"

"Le café serait très bon, s'il te plaît. Merci Adrian." As Adrian returned to the kitchen Charles turned towards Paul and Madeline, a dazzling smile. "So Peter, do you live nearby?"

"Close enough" Paul smiled, willing to play the game, "it's a relatively small town."

"Yes, très petit."

"*Paul* lives a few suburbs away" Madeline responded evenly.

"Divertissement des indigène, Madeline. Comment charmant. My apologies, *Paul*. So you work with Madeline at the hospital, perhaps?"

"No, I don't."

Charles crossed his legs in a spare, elegant movement and sat back in his chair. "If I am not being too... ahh, personal, what is it that you do, *Paul*?"

"I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you" Paul replied with a deadpan expression.

Madeline let out an undignified snort of laughter and raised an eyebrow at Charles in amusement. Charles frowned for a moment before understanding dawned and he laughed candidly, clapping his hands together.

"Je vois, très bien."

Paul laughed as well, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "I'm with NATO Naval Intelligance, North Atlantic Command, Hayfield Base" he stated casually.

"Ahh... a military man. Splendide. Joue-t-il avec ses grands pistolet pour tu amusement, ma cher?" he grinned at Madeline.

There was a sudden pause in the discussion as Adrian entered carrying a tray with coffee and cups. Charles quickly jumped up and took it from her as she cleared a space on the table for him to place the tray.

"Your house is very pleasing, Adrian" Charles commented as he resumed his seat. "The newer places lack... âme. This place..." he shrugged and swept his hand around, "c'est magnifique."

"Thank you, Charles. We are very happy here" Adrian replied graciously, passing him a steaming cup of coffee.

"Very happy" Madeline confirmed. She leant forward and accepted the cup Adrian offered her. "Are you still planning to go to Washington for the weekend?" she inquired blandly.

"Non, it is not necessary to make this meeting. Jean-Marc and I can conclude our business in Brussels when I return next week. He asked me to convey his regards" Charles nodded at Madeline.

"Do they still keep the house in Rue de Rivoli?"

"Oui, you know how sentimental Louisa is. It nearly broke her heart when we sold our place. I thought for a minute there she was going to talk Jean-Marc into buying it also" he laughed. "They are again my neighbours. They are renting the vacant apartment above mine in Brussels. It is good to have them nearby." Charles shrugged and placed his empty cup back on the table. "I'm sure your visitor is not interested in such trivial issues."

"Not at all" Paul offered.

"You are too kind, Paul" Charles smiled thinly, gazing distractedly at the items on the table between them. "What is this?" he asked, picking a colourful globe of paper.

"Adam was making paper flowers" Madeline replied.

"This does not look like a flower" Charles observed, turning the paper in his hand.

"No, I suspect that one was destined for something else." Madeline sorted through the collection of items on the table before selecting one. "Here" she said proudly, passing him a paper rose.

Charles received it and inspected it carefully. "Ravissant" he commented appreciatively and placed it carefully back on the table. "Why is Adam making paper flowers?" he asked curiously.

"A friend of ours is getting married on the weekend. Adam is making flowers to decorate an archway that Michael built" Madeline replied.

"Ahh... this has been the project Michel has been working on after school" Charles nodded appreciatively, as though some mystery had been solved.

"Just one of them." Madeline stood up suddenly, wiggled a finger at Charles, "suivez-moi" she commanded.

Charles grinned and jumped up immediately from his chair to follow her into the kitchen. When they reached the large feature window behind the kitchen table she turned on the outside lights to illuminate the backyard. Dotted around the backyard were a series of elegant, sweeping arcs of timber, decorated with what appeared to be a mix of ivy and the paper flowers Adam had been making in the lounge room. The structure formed a nebulous outline that Charles slowly realised produced a rambling 'heart' shape.

"Michel made this?" Charles asked softly.

"Oui" Madeline sighed contentedly.

"C'est magique" he whispered.

"Yes" Adrian agreed, coming to stand beside Charles. She glanced at Madeline and then turned to face Charles. "If you have no other plans, Charles, you would be welcome to join us for Walter and Belinda's wedding on Saturday afternoon."

Madeline's head swung instantly around, gazing at her mother with a mix of contempt and guilt.

Adrian glanced reassuringly at her daughter before turning to look out the window again. "It will just be a small affair with a few friends and relatives. Walter is a very close friend of ours, almost family. I'd like you to be here, with us."

Charles gazed at Madeline, his face a confusion of emotion. "Will this be acceptable to you, Madeline?"

Madeline hesitated for a moment, studying the man beside her intently. She smiled after a moment, feeling a sudden rush of understanding with her mother. "Yes, please come" she urged.

Charles stared at them both in amazement. "Alright" he whispered softly, a confused frown crinkling his eyebrows. He rubbed his chin absently then stated suddenly "I should go." He kissed Madeline gently on the cheek and then turned and kissed Adrian on each cheek. As he turned towards the door, he was confronted by Paul.

"Nice to meet you Paul." He reached out his hand, taking Paul's in a genial clasp. "Bonne nuit."

"Bonne nuit Charles, c'était un plaisir de vous rencontrer finalement. Votre anglais est tout à fait bon, d'ailleurs. Espérons-vous obtiennent la chance de la pratiquer davantage, tandis que vous êtes ici."

Charles stared at him for a long moment, then had the courtesy to unveil an embarrassed grin. He glanced across at Madeline and was pleased to note she was just as surprised.

"Touché, mon ami. Perhaps you would be so kind as to give me some instruction on not making an ass of myself on Saturday."

"I would be delighted" Paul beamed in the warmth of Adrian and Madeline's sudden laughter.

******************

The cool breeze howled through the thin curtains, demanding his attention in a less dramatic fashion compared to the pudgy fingers trying to pry his eyelids loose.

"Michel" the urgent hiss that has been directing his dream suddenly took on a familiar, albeit blurry shape.

"Adam" he mumbled, blinking against the digits intruding into the thick shroud of sleep still enclosing him. He rolled lazily, gathering the warm weight of cotton and feathers around him like a shield. A second later he was forced to surface again as hot, sticky breath clung like treacle to his skin and fingers played a cadenza on his cheeks.

"Michel, wake up. It is today finally." The fingers pressed harder, compressing his face until he was puckered-up like a fish waiting for artificial respiration. "Come on Michel, we're getting married today, everyone's already busy downstairs."

He rolled his shoulders, hoping to dislodge the small body sprawled over his. All it managed to achieve, to his dismay, was to start a fit of raucous giggling in his ear.

"Michel? I know you are awake in there." A wiggle of legs and bony joints dug into him before the fingers resumed their assault.

"What" he grouched, burying his head in his pillow.

"Today is here now, you have to get up" Adam whispered urgently.

"What time is it?" he mumbled.

"Time for you to get up, young man" Adam giggled in a high falsetto, imitating their mothers habitual response.

Michael groaned and pulled the blankets over his head.

"Michel..." Adam whined.

Michael rubbed his face and yawned, one arm reaching up in a leisurely stretch. He sighed and turned towards Adam, eyes blinking slowly.

"What?" he mumbled, his face frowning under the intense scrutiny of the brown eyes watching his every move.

"Why are you so sad?" Adam whispered.

Michaels frown deepened. "Why are you always waking me up?"

"Because you're always asleep, silly" Adam smiled. He crawled under the blankets, letting a draft of cold air sneak under with him. "I know something that will make you happy." Adam reached across and pushed the corner of Michael's mouth up, forcing his lips into a lopsided smile.

Michael shivered and pulled the blankets up around them. "Oh, your feet are freezing" he complained.

"Yes" Adam agreed, pressing them more firmly against Michael to warm them up. Adam snuggled up against his brother, poking a finger through a tear in the threadbare tshirt he was wearing. "You had a fight with Nikita" he suddenly announced.

"I did not" Michael mumbled. "Where do you come up with these things, Adam."

"Kita told me."

Michael frowned and rubbed his eye in irritation. "And so when did Nikita tell you this?" he sighed.

"When I called her" Adam was happy to supply, "she said you were very mean and said bad things to her because you didn't love her any more."

"Please tell me you are making a joke, Adam" Michael whispered urgently.

"Noooo" he sighed, rolling his eyes dramatically as though Michael was stupid. "She saw the letter from Simone on your desk and thought that you liked Simone better than her."

Michael's eyes widened in bewilderment.

"Isn't she silly?" Adam giggled, thinking Michael's incredulous expression was confirmation of his assessment. "You didn't hide it very good and I finally found Simone's letter in your desk draw last night and called Kita this morning. Did you know she gets up early, like me, she was still in bed, though. I wanted to skip over some of that yuck stuff about what Simone and Rene had been doing." Adam screwed his face up and stuck his tongue out. "It was gross, but Kita made me read it out all the same. Then she started laughing."

"Laughing?" Michael stuttered, barely following the conversation.

"Yeah, laughing. She's funny sometimes, isn't she, cause then she started crying. I tried to cheer her up, but she said she was happy even though she was crying. Girls are so gooby sometimes. But she was still crying and I wanted to cheer her up again so I told her about that thing you were doing in the shower last week, singing about her and using the soap as a microphone. That was funny Michel, she thought so too."

Michael groaned and pulled a pillow over his head.

"She'll be here soon so that we can start getting ready for the wedging, that's why you have to get up" Adam urged, pulling the pillow off Michaels head and tugging at his arm.

"I can't believe you did that" Michael whispered, face still half buried in the pillow.

Adam looked at him thoughtfully, his eyebrows wrinkled in concentration. "Why did you go to stay with papa without me? Didn't papa want me to come too?" he whispered.

Michael rolled around and faced Adam, instantly awake. "No, Adam, it was nothing like that. Anyway, I thought you would want to stay here, to keep maman and mamie safe."

"I suppose" Adam sighed. His fingers started scrunching up the edges of the sheet, roaming along the fringe with manic intensity. Michael finally grabbed his fingers, holding them still.

"What is it Adam? What's troubling you?"

"Are you going away and leaving us?" he whimpered.

"Where did you get a silly idea like that" Michael replied softly.

"I overheard maman talking on the phone. She said you were going back to Paris with papa. Is it true, Michel? Are you going back there with him? I don't want you to go, what will I do here by myself? Why can't you and papa stay here or we can all go back together? Why do we always have to be apart?" Adam's eyes glistened with the tears that rolled slowly down his cheeks.

"I would never leave you" Michael whispered, rubbing Adam's back in the familiar, light circles that helped to calm him.

"Michael, time to get up young man" Madeline called from the hallway, banging on his door with a loud rap before entering. "Come on, hurry up, we have so much to do this morning and..." She stopped, finally noticing the scene before her. She dropped the bundle of dirty laundering she had been collecting and came and sat on the edge of Michael's bed. He shifted over slightly to make room for her.

"What's the matter Adam?" she said softly, reaching out to smooth away the tears on his cheek.

"Adam overheard you telling someone I was going back to Paris with papa" Michael stated solemnly.

"Oh" Madeline sighed. She nudged Michael over some more, then lay down beside him, hands folded across her chest, eyes boring holes in the ceiling.

"Adam really doesn't want me to go back to Paris" Michael whispered, still turned towards Adam, gently rubbing his back.

"I see" Madeline considered. "What else is Adam upset about?" she asked cautiously.

"Adam wants me stay here, with you and mamie and our other friends, but he feels sad that papa seems so far away from us now" Michael whispered again, his voice getting softer and softer. "Despite everything that has happened, spending time with him has made Adam realise that he still loves his papa."

"What else does Adam think?" Madeline pressed gently.

"Adam thinks that I am very unhappy about having to make this decision. That maybe it is unfair that you and papa are asking me to choose" Michael continued in the same, soft drone. "He is scared that either you or papa will hurt be hurt by whatever I decide."

Adam's tears had finally stopped and he lifted his face to look quizzically at Michael. He crawled over his brother, forcing him to turn and lay on his back. With a frown he folded his arms against Michael's chest, resting his chin on his arm so he could watch them both. Michael's fingers continued to rub absently on his back.

"Adam seems to understand things pretty well" Madeline sighed, looking down at Adam's puzzled frown.

"Adam didn't say those things" Adam whined, feeling left out and completely baffled by the discussion going on around him.

Madeline reached out and rubbed his tear-streaked cheeks. "What does Adam think you should do?" she whispered, placing a finger gently on Adam's lips to still the words forming there.

Michael sighed deeply and folded an arm under his head, eyes staring into the distance.

"Adam thinks I should summon the courage to tell papa that I won't be going back with him" Michael whispered softly. He glanced across at Madeline nervously. "He hopes you will understand if I tell papa that maybe he and I would like to go and spend a couple of weeks with him over the holidays, or suggest that papa could come and visit us here more often."

Madeline let out a deep breath and reached down suddenly and pulled Adam between them, eliciting a yelp from the confused little boy. Once he was wedged snugly between them Madeline sighed contentedly.

"Well..." Madeline considered, running her fingers through Adam's hair, "I think that's a very good plan, Adam. What did Michael think of it?"

Adam squirmed between them, making more room for himself. A hand reached up and rested against his mother's hair, curling the strands through his fingers.

"Ummmm... I think that's what Michel will do, maman" Adam stated determinedly.

"Michael?" she asked, shifting slightly so she could see his face.

Michael glanced at her, something akin to a smile pulling at one corner of his mouth. "Yes" he whispered through an exhaled breath, "it's a good plan." His head swung in a lazy arc towards her, eye's capturing hers in a piercing gaze. "There's just one more thing Adam has to tell you" he whispered ominously.

"What would that be?" Madeline asked, the tension returning. She ruffled the small head now resting against her chest.

"Tell her Adam" Michael urged, poking Adam gently in the stomach.

"Ouch" Adam yowled, clutching at his stomach as though Michael had punched him. "Maman, Michel hit me!" he demanded.

"What have you done this time, Adam?" she asked mildly.

"Nothing, maman, I don't know what he's talking about" Adam stated innocently, crawling up into her arms and snuggling against her.

"Tell her about searching through my room, Adam, the letter and about calling Nikita"

"Oh... that" Adam sighed, bored. He rolled over until his face was level with Madeline's. "Michel was mean to Nikita and I fixed it so that she loves him again" he stated triumphantly.

"Adam?" Madeline growled in a low voice.

Adam sighed and held his mother's face between his hands, an intense frown held her bemused gaze.

"Adam thinks that you shouldn't punish him for going through Michel's things because everything turned out okay" Adam said sternly.

"That's what Adam thinks?" Madeline replied, trying desperately not to laugh.

"Yes, that's what Adam thinks" he confirmed, then quickly added, "and Michel too. He is very grateful to Adam for solving all his problems."

"He has a point" Madeline conceded, turning to Michael with a grin.

"I guess" Michael shrugged, scowling severely at Adam. "Though I still want justice."

"I suppose that's only fair" Madeline sighed, pulling Adam against her.

"Maman!" Adam yelled, appalled by her treachery.

"Please Michael, remember, he's just a little boy."

"I will" Michael grinned wickedly. "Adam Binoche, I sentence you to be tickled on the body until you promise never to go through my personal things again."

"Is the prisoner ready?" Madeline asked, holding Adam's already squirming body tightly against her.

"No maman, no..." Adam giggled in breathless delight as the assault began. His inarticulate cries of "I promise" were barely heard over the laughter of his torturers as their fingers moved with deadly accuracy over his most ticklish spots. His mother had just managed to get him in a headlock while his brother attacked the soles of his flailing feet when a deafening bang brought them to a sudden, breathless halt.

"What was that?" Adam gulped.

Madeline and Michael stared at each other in dread as they mouthed the same word in unison.

"Thunder!"

The three of them jumped off the bed and ran to the window, just in time to see the heaven's opening up in a deluge of rain.

******************

"No George, not there, put it in the front room" Adrian barked, "and hold the towel under it, you're dripping water everywhere. Charles... here, take these towels and put them on the floor underneath it so it doesn't stain the carpet. Once you've done that, could you help Paul on floor cleaning detail. I've left some sheets out to put on the worst bits."

They rushed to follow her commands, dripping wet with muddy shoes that were turning the kitchen floor into a quagmire. Chaos, Adrian sighed. She walked over to Madeline who was drying wine glasses and plates and stacking them on the kitchen table. Madeline smiled sympathetically as she glanced up into the ruin of the backyard. Michael, Nikita and Adam were splashing through the water that had settled on the ground, completely drenched by this stage and frantically carrying anything that could still be salvaged into the garage or over to the back porch. Stacks of chairs and tables, and soggy tablecloths were piled in a disorganised heap by the backdoor.

"The best laid plans..." she stated whimsically. "At least we hadn't put *all* the food out yet, or the cake." They both glanced over at the two-tiered wedding cake that was resting on a low table in the corner.

"Adrian we've moved the furniture out of the front room" Paul said wearily as he came over to them, wiping his hands on his jeans. "It'll be a squeeze, but I think everyone will fit. Birkoff is bringing some spare glasses from my place to replace the ones knocked over by the wind, and then he's going to the florist to see if we can get some flowers to put around the house."

"Has Walter or Belinda called yet? Have her parents arrived?" Madeline asked.

"I heard from him an hour or so ago, they're still out at the airport." Paul glanced at the clock on the kitchen wall. "The airline had put the arrival time back again, but hopefully they should be in by now. They're going to be pushing it to get back here on time, especially with some of the roads starting to close because of local flooding."

"Well, there's no use worrying until we have more information, we've done as much as we can. This storm has taken everyone by surprise. I think we should go and get ready, our guests will be arriving in an hour. Paul, you and George can use my bathroom downstairs. Walter's things are in there too. Madeline, Nikita and I will use your bathroom, if that's all right. I've laid out Belinda's dress so everything should be ready as soon as they arrive. Charles, you can use the bathroom upstairs with Michael and Adam."

"Where is Adam?" Madeline asked, gazing out the window at Michael and Nikita who were huddled in a corner of the yard, picking up the last few things scattered on the ground.

"He and... ummm Harvey? went upstairs a little while ago to dry off" Charles answered.

Madeline frowned at him. "Harvey? Who is Harvey?"

Charles face suddenly mirrored Madeline's. "This is the name Adam gave the dog that was with him."

"We don't have a dog, Charles" Madeline moaned.

The back door burst open at that moment, Nikita holding Michael's arm out in front of them as though it was diseased. "Michael cut his hand on one of the broken wine glasses" she announced, turning on the tap and pushing Michael's hand under it.

Madeline grabbed one of the clean towels off the table and rushed over to the sink.

"It's nothing Nikita, it's just a scratch" he winced as his mother probed the piece of glass still wedged in his palm.

"Yeah, whatever Michael. Ohhh... Dr Binoche, is that a piece of glass still sticking out there?" Nikita mumbled, watching with morbid fascination as Madeline probed gently and opened the cut, slowly working the large piece of glass out of Michaels hand. "Ewwghh, that's so gross. That sucker was right in there" she breathed raggedly, her face turning an interesting mix of green and translucent white, "look at all that blood, it's like a..."

"Oh shit, I forgot. Papa quick..." Michael twisted, seeing his father behind them.

Nikita's eyelids fluttered for a moment before she sank gracefully towards the filthy floor. Charles caught her just as her head hit the ground, looking a little helpless as he scooped her into his arms. He turned to find Paul in front of him, gratefully handing the limp form of his daughter to him.

"Sorry" Paul smiled sheepishly, "I should have been quicker. Niki's never been too good with... ummm... these sorts of things." He nodded towards the sink where Madeline was holding a blood soaked compress against Michael's still bleeding hand.

"Neither have I" Charles shrugged meekly. "Madeline has always been the strong one in... ummm... *these sorts of things*."

"This will need stiches" Madeline sighed. "Charles can you get my medical bag. It's in the top shelf of the wardrobe, in my bedroom."

"Yes, of course" he replied, rushing upstairs.

"Well" Adrian stated glumly, "could things get any worse?"

"Be careful what you wish for, Adrian" George chuckled mildly.

"Thank you George. Isn't there something you could be doing?"

"Always, Adrian dear, always."

Paul shook his head in amazement. "Adrian, can I lay Niki down on your bed?"

"Please, go ahead. I'll bring some ice in for her head."

"Thank you" Paul grinned, despite himself, and headed towards the door. He stopped in his tracks when Charles' reappeared through the kitchen door, holding Madeline's bag in one hand and a bawling Adam in the other.

"What's happened?" Paul asked, shifting Nikita gently in his arms.

Charles cast a quick, desperate look towards Adrian before placing Madeline's bag on the bench beside the sink and opening it for her. With his other hand now free he held Adam to him firmly, whispering softly in his ear as he rubbed his back.

"What has happened papa?" Michael finally repeated.

"The white dress on your bed Madelaine" Charles stumbled as Adam's crying became even louder, "this dress is Belinda's wedding gown?"

"Yes" Adrian acknowledged nervously.

"The little dog Adam was playing with..." Charles took a moment to try and calm Adam as his crying became even more frantic, his arms so tight around his fathers neck that Charles was having difficulty breathing. "The little dog, with his muddy feet, has jumped on the bed and... shhh, mon petit, cessez s'il te plaît de pleurer..."

Adrian closed her eyes for a moment, as much to calm her frayed nerves as to lock out the horrified faces around her. With a deep breath she opened them again, too overcome with the whole situation to do anything but roar with laughter. She reached out to Adam, ruffling his hair affectionately.

"It's alright my sweet little boy" she smiled, reaching her arms around Adam and Charles, "everything will be alright."

It took a moment of stunned silence before the others joined in, the laughter bouncing of the walls of the kitchen, competing with the sound of Adam's crying, the steady fall of rain outside and the demanding ring of the telephone.

"Let me take Adam and we'll go and see what we can do about that dress" Adrian grinned at Charles, "you help Madeline fix Michael and Paul can see to Nikita. I think we are diaster proofed now, what else could possibly go wrong."

Charles smiled and kissed Adam's cheek, gently extracting his arms from around his neck and passing him to Adrian. "Nobody is mad with you, little one" he whispered against Adam's ear, "no one is blaming you for this accident, we love you Adam."

Adam folded against Adrian in a miserable heap, his crying reduced to hiccupping sobs. Charles sighed and joined Madeline and Michael at the sink. He stared at one and then other, a puzzled frown on his face.

"What have I done now? Why do you look at me like that?" he asked.

Madeline and Michael shared an enigmatic smile before turning back to him.

"It's nothing Charles" Madeline laughed. "Can you pull a chair over here. I think Michael better sit down before he falls down, and perhaps one for yourself... just in case."

Adrian laughed and followed Paul towards the door. George appeared his face grim.

"What now?" Adrian groaned.

"That was Walter, the airport has just been closed" George said gravely. "Air traffic is being diverted well south of the storm. Belinda's parents flight will be landing in National Airport in a couple of hours. The interstate is closed so even if we could hold off until later, there's no way we can get them back here before late tomorrow night."

"Oh no" Madeline cried, "Belinda will be devastated."

"Walter's bringing her home now, they'll be here shortly."

"I spoke too soon" Adrian stated softly.

"Too soon? Perhaps. But when all is said and done, all this" he waved his hand elaborately, "all this is just peripheral. If Walter and Belinda still want to go through with it, we will still be here to share it with them and make it everything and anything they might want. All the magic we need is this" he smiled, tapping her forehead.

*****************

Holding the bow awkwardly in his bandaged hand, Michael played a few experimental notes, changing the angle of his cello slightly to accommodate the annoying bulk of the bandage. He ran effortlessly through a series of scales, absurdly pleased that he had injured his left hand. Despite hours of forcing himself to practice with both hands, his right hand always felt more comfortable working the strings. He grinned as he heard shuffling beside him, three friends from his music class took their seats and started tuning their instruments, adding two violins and a flute to the disjointed notes drifting through the room.

He looked up to see Adam charging towards him, then skidding to a dramatic halt as all but fell over Michael's knee, knocking his music stand over.

"I have my drum, Michel, look, see. I'll remember when I have to hit very loud, that's when you look at me and nod your head, that's right, isn't it" he babbled excitedly. "But not when you nod your head and don't look at me."

"That's right" Michael smiled as he rearranged the pages on the stand in front of him. "Here, see these red marks I have made" he held Adam's finger against one of the marks on the page opened in front of them, "this is when you must play your drum, just as we practiced. What's wrong?"

Adam leaned timidly against his brother, eyes fixed on the three others sitting in an semicircle beside Michael. He dug his toe into the carpet, lower lip descending into a pout.

"How come I don't get a chair" he whispered glumly.

Michael stared frantically around the crowded room. "There are no more chairs and anyway, you said you wanted to sit on the ground."

"Yes, but that was when we were practicing" he whimpered. "You all have a chair."

Michael rubbed his face wearily, suddenly aware of the throbbing pain in his injured hand. "You can sit on the floor, just here, beside me." He pulled Adam closer, seeing that he was perilously close crying. "Adam, not now, please" Michael pleaded.

"Qu'y a-t-il Michel?" Charles inquired as he crouched down beside Adam and Michael.

"It's nothing papa. I forgot to bring a chair down for Adam."

"Ahhh... and this is why you are so upset, mon petite" he whispered to Adam, rubbing a thumb across his cheek.

Adam let out a miserable sob. "I want to be like Michel... and the others."

"Of course, but you will be playing the drum. You cannot do this on a chair. Michel, move your music stand around a little, s'il te plait." Charles stood and returned a moment later with two large books, positioned them carefully on the floor next to Michael, placed Adam's drum on top. "Viens ici, Adam" he commanded firmly, placing a cushion on the floor beside him, "s'asseoir."

Adam plonked himself down on the cushion beside his father, leaning into his lap, a satisfied smile on his face. "This is good, papa, will you stay here and watch me."

"Bien sur, Adam" he grinned, winking at Michael. "I have the best seat in the house."

Michael rolled his eyes in silent amusement before turning back to his instrument, joining with the others to quickly run through, one last time, one of the more complex passages of the piece Belinda and Walter had selected to start the ceremony.

The tranquil sound of their practice drew Paul's attention from where he was positioned in the doorway. He fiddled nervously with the rose in his lapel before checking, once again, for the two rings in his top pocket. With an anxious sigh he smiled politely at the people milling around him, the sounds of laughter and discussion heavy in the air. He walked over to the far corner of the room, where Birkoff, Mowen and a couple of technicians were sorting through and taping down cabling.

"Nearly ready, Sir" Birkoff mumbled as he flicked an LED panel on the console Mowen was wiring. "Relays are set up, the guys at Richmond tower are standing by. We'll be up in five."

"Good work" Paul nodded appreciatively. "Getting much static?"

"Nothing critical. There's some residual as a result of the storm, but with this gear George requisitioned we can keep it stable"

Mowen grinned from his position on the floor under the console. "Hey Admiral, can we keep this stuff when all the hoopla's over?"

"Sure Mowen, we could sell off one of our cruisers to pay for it" Paul deadpanned.

"Well make it so, Captain" Mowen drawled, then noticing Paul's grim face added, "umm... it's just an expression... *Sir*. This is pretty cool spy stuff" he mumbled, changing the subject.

Birkoff chuckled, playing with the tiny video camera and doing some experimental sweeps. "...so cool" he grinned as he focused into the distance, zooming in to catch Madeline in the viewfinder as she walked down the stairs. "We gotta get one of these" he nodded enthusiastically. He could read the time on her watch, count the tiny red flowers that skirted the hemline of her black dress.

"Looks like you're up, big guy" he whispered, as both he and Paul watched Madeline pause when she reached the last step and glance around, calling Charles over. They talked briefly then both looked across towards Michael and Adam. Soon after Charles headed off in that direction, leaning to talk to Michael before sitting down beside Adam again. Madeline's eyes swept the crowd and then lighted on Paul, a brilliant smile on her face as she winked and nodded.

"Now remember, don't drop the rings and don't kiss the bride *before* you kiss Walter, it's very bad form" Birkoff laughed. He fiddled with Paul's bow tie before planting a noisy kiss on his cheek. "You look good honey, do us seamen proud."

Paul snorted and slapped Birkoff's hands away. He grinned and took a deep breath before walking over to take his position near Walter.

"Walter, they're ready" he whispered.

"Oh shit, the moment of truth" Walter mumbled. He suddenly looked towards Father Murphy. "Ummm.. sorry, Father."

Father Murphy chuckled. "No problem Walter, I'm pretty nervous too."

The three men turned when they heard the quartet in the next room launch into the dramatic start to the fourth movement of Beethoven's 9th Symphony. Adam's smile was triumphant as he accomplished his drum 'solo' in the introduction with great flair. Walter gave him the thumbs up, which sent the little boy into a spin of ecstatic giggles.

Birkoff moved slowly amongst the crowd, panning the video camera, as Madeline and Adrian started moving people towards the front room. Even cleared of furniture, it was squeeze fitting everyone in and some of their guests spilled out into the adjoining room and hallway. A long strip of emerald green carpet made a path from the bottom of the stairs to the bay window, where Walter and Paul stood beside Father Murphy. Hanging above the window was a white cotton sheet, upon which Adam and Nikita had painted a huge yellow sun on a blue background. From the edge of the globe, yellow and red ribbons radiated out across the ceiling and walls.

When everyone was assembled, Madeline and Adrian passed out small bunches of colourful flowers to those people lining the green carpeted pathway. They then took their place behind Walter and Paul. Heads turned when the musicians increased the volume of their playing, all eyes suddenly trained on Nikita as she walked slowly down the stairs, leaving in her wake a trail of rose petals that matched the deep scarlet of her dress.

She couldn't keep the huge grin off her face as Birkoff loomed in front of her with the camera. With a self conscious role of her eyes, she stole a glance over towards Michael. He returned her grin and then laughed as a distracted Nikita stumbled on the bottom step and sent a shower of rose petals into the air. Birkoff zoomed in to capture her face, which now matched the colour of the petals that fell in her hair and drifted onto the people around her. Shaking her head in embarrassment, she made her way quickly up the aisle towards Walter and her father, happy to be out of the spotlight as all eyes, and the dreaded camera, turned towards Belinda and George as they drifted down the staircase.

Belinda's ivory silk dress was all but hidden by a huge bouquet of deep red roses. The tiny, muddy footprints they hadn't been able to remove were barely noticeable under the mountain of foliage. She clutched the flowers to her almost as tightly as she clutched Georges' arm.

"You're beautiful my dear Belinda, Walter's a lucky man" George whispered reassuringly in her ear as they reached the bottom step.

Belinda smiled nervously, nodding politely at the people they passed. When she finally saw Walter's beaming smile waiting for her all her tension evaporated under the warmth of his gaze. When they finally made it to stand beside Walter, George turned to the camera Birkoff had now fixed on a tripod mounted to the window frame.

"Rebecca and Tom?" he asked.

*Yes, we're here* came the excited voice of Belinda's mother, *we can see you. We're watching it on the television screen in the plane. Hello Belinda darling, hello Walter, Father Murphy.*

*Hello everyone* her father piped in.

Belinda started crying, smiling and waving at the camera, imagining her parents would be doing the same.

George patted Belinda's hand. "I'm proud to stand here on your behalf, Rebecca and Tom, to share in this occasion. It may be cold and stormy outside, but inside this house the sun is shining from the love of these two wonderful people. I hope, as you watch and listen from your vantage point in the sky, some of that warmth will reach you also. We're so glad that despite all that has happened to you today, you are here with us." George leaned over and kissed Belinda's cheek then took a step back as Walter moved in beside her.

Adrian breathed a sigh of relief as the ceremony proceeded without incident. After the chaos of the morning she had been ready for anything. When it came time to exchange their vows, she found it difficult not to shed a tear at the lovely poem Walter had chosen. She felt warm fingers linking with hers and didn't need to turn to know it was George standing behind her.

Those fingers were more sure in gripping hers than Paul's were as he reached into his pocket to pass Belinda's ring to Walter. All eyes watched as the small gold band fell slowly to the floor and rolled past Nikita, then Madeline, who slipped over trying to grab it. It was Adam who managed to dive to the floor and snatch it just before it slipped under the loose floorboard near the window. Michael and Charles even managed to catch the large, ceramic vase of flowers Adam collided with before it spilled all over him and the two women standing near them. Adam jumped up and ran back to Walter as Paul helped a laughing Madeline to her feet. Everyone clapped as Walter placed the ring on her finger. Paul didn't make the same mistake as he carefully passed Walter's ring to Belinda.

When Walter and Belinda finally shared a kiss as husband and wife, a loud cheer came over the speaker linking them to Belinda's parents. They could hear the sound of champagne corks popping, congratulations being shouted and Tom with a crying Rebecca sending their love. The sounds of celebration broadcasting into the room were soon amplified by the laughter and clapping of those crowded around the radiant couple.

"Happiness, Adrian, will make any day perfect" George whispered in her ear.

Adrian sighed contentedly and grasped the warm hand in hers a little tighter in response.

*******************

"Michael we need some more champagne, can you help me bring some in from the garage?" Madeline asked as she steered Michael towards the kitchen door.

"Of course, maman. Nikita can help us."

"No, Niki is helping Adrian and Paul take more food into the dinning room."

She didn't hear Michaels reply as she ushered him out the door and into the windy and wet backyard. They ran along the covered walkway and into the garage, brushing off the stray raindrops that had found them.

"It's still raining maman."

"You noticed too" Madeline laughed, shaking the water out of her hair as she leant a hand on the wall to steady herself.

"Maman... are you drunk?"

"Perhaps a little, are you shocked?"

"No, I don't think so" Michael grinned and passed her a dry towel. "You are in good company, everyone seems to be a *little* drunk." He wandered over to the ice-chests, pulling the wheelbarrow into place in front.

"Every time I turn around, Paul or Walter keep filling my glass. If I didn't know better I'd say Paul was..." Madeline stopped suddenly, the hazy remnants of her good sense mercifully kicking in.

Michael chuckled knowingly at the blush that crept up his mother's face. "I heard you suggest that Nikita and the Admiral stay the night so they don't have to drive home in this weather" he stated blandly.

"Yes" Madeline replied a little too defensively, "is that going to be a problem for you?"

"No, no problem at all" he grinned, "in fact, I think it's a great idea."

"I made the same suggestion to your father" Madeline retorted, as though this would clear up any misunderstanding Michael was having.

"Whatever, maman" he shrugged ingenuously. "How much should we take in?"

Madeline joined him by the ice-chests. "Another dozen should do... and maybe some beer... and some more softdrinks. We'll need to start sobering people up if we're ever going to get them to go home." Michael nodded and started loading bottles into the barrow with his uninjured hand. "How is your hand, I haven't checked it since we bandaged it."

"It's fine" Michael shrugged.

"Of course it is" Madeline smiled. "Come here" she directed, sitting down on some crates stacked against the wall.

Michael finished loading the bottles and pushed the wheelbarrow over to the door. "Come on maman, you can check my hand once we're back inside."

"Michael, here, sit!"

"Do you want me wag my tail and roll over, too?"

"Maybe, if you're a good boy and do as you're told."

Michael sighed and looked towards the house, leaning against the doorframe in an insolent slouch. "You want to know if I've talked to papa yet? Why don't you just ask, you didn't have to drag me out here."

"We did need more drinks" Madeline shrugged and leant back against the wall. "What did he say?"

"He was disappointed" Michael mumbled, digging the toe of his shoe against the rubber strip on the step.

"I guess he would be..." Madeline glanced over towards Michael. "Did you... ummm... did you talk about the other things you mentioned this morning?"

Michael straightened and slowly rolled his shoulders. In slow, measured steps he came and sat next to his mother. Folding his arms across his chest he leaned back against the wall. He sighed and unfolded his legs, stretching them out in front of him. "Yes, we talked about lots of things. He wants to see more of us, maman" he whispered gently, "and I'd like to see more of him."

"Oh..."

"Why did you invite him here, today?"

"I didn't, mama did."

"But you agreed."

"Yes."

"Why?"

"I don't know, he was here, he wasn't doing anything. What does it matter?"

"Because, I'd like to know."

Madeline sighed, shook her head slowly. "I don't know Michael, there isn't any simple answer. Maybe I felt like I'd been keeping him away from you for the wrong reasons. And maybe I thought that one of the reasons he was acting so callously was because I wasn't giving him any other options. Maybe I hoped..." she sighed, shoulders slouching forward, "... I don't know."

Michael nodded thoughtfully, then turned to face her. "Maybe you should just relax maman. You won the competition, if there was ever a contest to win. We... I, we were always going to stay with you, how could we not?"

"That's not what I was getting at, Michael."

"If you say so. But I'm sure you've been thinking about it, just as he has."

Madeline shook her head slowly, hands running down over her dress, smoothing out the wrinkles left by the rain. "So do I get a ribbon, or a big shiny trophy?"

"Huh?"

"For winning."

Michael leaned closer to her, his arm falling across her shoulders as he placed a gentle kiss on her cheek.

"Mmmmm... good prize" she sighed happily.

They sat quietly for a while, listening to the rain fall steadily on the tin roof above them.

"I'm not forgetting how things were" Michael finally whispered, "every excruciating detail is burned into my memory. But I feel that, at least this time, I'm walking into it with my eye's wide open. I know papa can be... exasperating."

"More like eye's wide shut... *exasperating*, Michael? Try odious, loathsome, barbaric, insensitive..."

"Every family needs a black sheep, maman. He makes the rest of us look virtuous and closer to perfect."

"...obnoxious, petulant... the term execrable once came to mind after one particularly unpleasant evening towards the end."

"Yes, he can be all those things" Michael smiled enigmatically, "perhaps that is why we love him."

"Yeah, right" Madeline snorted dismissively and grabbed the bandaged hand that lay in his lap. "You can be so perverse at times Michael, it's very irritating."

"Perverse *and* irritating" Michael sighed as he watched her unwrapping the bandage, "that's a bad sign. Would you like to lay into me now?"

"No" she whispered apologetically. "I just hate it when you get to play the grown-up." She examined the stitches in his hand, her face screwed up in concentration. "It's been bleeding again, I should have put another stitch in and it looks a bit swollen and inflamed, I should have given you some antibiotics." She rubbed gently around the injury, eye's focussed on that rather than her son's intense face. "I'm sorry Michael, I didn't do a very good job. It looks painful."

"Painful? Yes, at times, but mostly it's just a dull ache. But it will get better, maman, won't it? We'll survive."

Madeline grinned and nodded her head in agreement as she re-bandaged his hand. When she was done she circled his hand with both of hers and pulled it against her chest, resting her chin gently against his fingers.

"Yeah, we'll survive" she smiled.