"Birkoff, will you weep that idiot grin off your face" Paul slurred, irritated.

"Weep what?" Birkoff asked, confused.

"What's weep?"

"You said weep my grin."

"No, I asked you where Walter's gone?"

"I think you said 'weep the hideous', mon ami" Charles voice drifted up from the floor where he was laying, head leaning against a cushion of lounge the other two were sprawled against "I think I understand better when you're drunk, oui?"

"'least I can be drunk in english."

"True, but being drunk in french is less taxing on what's left of my brain."

"My brain left a while ago. I need water."

"Water left, with B'linda" Birkoff mumbled. He looked from Charles to Paul, his face screwed into a comical frown. "Why d'you want me to weep?"

"I don't want you to weep" Paul sighed dismissively. "When'd they go, I wanted to say g'bye."

"You did already. You kissed water on the mouth, 'member?"

Charles laughed deliriously, "yes, you were speaking in *french* then. Such good friends, you and Walter. Not that there's anything wrong with that, of course."

That got Birkoff started as well and within minutes he had slid gracelessly off the lounge, joining Charles on the floor where the two were now rolling about in laughter.

Paul sat grumbling on the lounge, trying to recall the incident that had his drunken friends in fits of laughter on the floor. All he could summon was the vague impression of a teary farewell and hugging first Belinda, and then Walter as they left. Now that he had the picture in his mind he did remember saying goodbye, some uttered words about him being a lucky bastard, then an affectionate kiss for his best friend. Oh dear... At least most of the guests had gone home by then.

"You about done" Paul chuckled, shaking his head ruefully.

Gail and Madeline wandered over, both collapsing into the lounge next to Paul.

"What's so funny?" Gail asked, nudging Birkoff with her toe.

"Nothing, nothing at all" Paul quickly answered, glaring at the two men on the floor, daring them to speak.

Birkoff, still giggling, moved to rest his head against Gail's leg. "We better go, huh?" he sighed dreamily, resting a hand gently against her swollen belly. "Sorry I'm a slobbering mess babe. Seems a bit unfair."

"That's OK, you drank enough for both of us" Gail smiled, tousling his hair. "C'mon Seymour, let's clear out so these kind folk can go to bed."

"You're sure you don't want to stay?" Madeline asked. "You'd be most welcome."

"No, thanks anyway Madeline, but we better go home and rescue my mother. She's had Jason all day, I couldn't inflict her with a 5.30 wake-up call as well. Don't want to push my luck. Anyway" she grinned, fingering Birkoff's hair, "you're looking forward to playing with your son in the morning while I sleep-in, aren't you honey?"

Birkoff groaned and rubbed his face wearily. "Yeah, I live for 5.30 starts on Sunday." He leaned against the table, forcing himself to stand, impressed that his legs still seemed to know what to do in the absence of any higher order brain function. After only one failed attempt, he managed to find the pocket of his pants and fish the car keys out. He passed them to Gail then held out his hand to help her up from the lounge.

"I think it will be safer if I do it myself" Gail grinned, easing herself up off the lounge. "Well goodnight all, it's been a wonderful day. Thank Adrian again for me, won't you."

Birkoff shuffled unsteadily behind her, then with a smug grin he leaned down to kiss Paul goodbye, loosing his balance and ending up in Paul's lap.

"Birkoff, some day, we'll look back on this, laugh nervously and change the subject." Paul grinned. "But it's nice to know you care." He kissed Birkoff's cheek perfunctorily then pushed him out of his lap, laughing loudly as Birkoff stumbled over Charles before regaining his balance.

"Well, it was good for me, Sir" Birkoff giggled and followed Gail to the door. "G'night" he mumbled as the door closed behind them.

"Ahhh.... silence" Madeline whispered appreciatively.

"S'good" Paul agreed, closing his eyes.

"Would either of you like coffee?" she asked, watching Charles as he cautiously sat up, his head rolling in slow circles as he worked the kinks out of his neck.

"No, not for me, merci."

Paul turned and looked at her, a puzzled frown on his face. "How come I'm only seeing one of you. Have you cheated on us Madeline?"

"What do you mean?" Madeline asked, slightly flustered by his question.

"Did you sneak behind our backs and sober up?"

"Ohh... umm... sort of. The room was beginning to spin, I thought I better start on the water therapy. I'm not sure it's helped."

"Very wise. I should do the same. Do you want some more?"

"Yes, thanks."

Charles stood and stretched, letting out a weary groan as he tested his legs. "Is Adam still awake, Madeline? He seemed too worked up to sleep, despite two stories."

"Yes, he's awake, the little sneak. He conned me into a story as well, and a promise of another in a little while."

"Ahh... he is very good at this, non? Well, I shall bid you adieu and say goodnight to Adam et Michel, then go to bed also. I am... done in? Bon nuit, cherie" he smiled, leaning down to kiss Madeline affectionately on each cheek. "Bon nuit, Paul" he grinned, "I hope you are not offended that I only offer to shake your hand, you have had your share of kisses tonight, I think."

Paul shook the proffered hand. "Maybe" he smiled and used the leverage to help him stand. Charles stumbled for a moment before he managed to haul Paul upright. "Maybe" Paul repeated, almost in Charles' face. His face cracked into a huge grin and as he turned towards the kitchen he gave Charles a sympathetic slap on the back.

"See you in the morning" he mumbled.

Charles nodded, letting out a tired sigh as he turned to leave. Madeline reached out and grabbed his hand as he passed, turning him around. "Thank you for your help today, Charles. You've been very generous, I know it's been difficult."

Charles' eyes rambled around the house for a moment before settling on Madeline. His face impassive, although it seemed to her he was working hard to keep it that way. He reached down and passed a finger fleetingly across her cheek before suddenly pulling back, his eyes betraying his confusion. "Thank you for giving me this opportunity, I did not think it would come again. I thought..." He shrugged, awkwardly, then glanced at Paul as he weaved his way to the kitchen. "It does not matter. Bon nuit, Madeline."

"Tell Adam I'll be up shortly, with any luck he will already be asleep."

"If he is still awake I shall tell him" Charles called back as he ambled out of the room.

"Good night" Madeline called after him. Her head dropped back and she sank into the lounge, watching as Charles slowly climbed the stairs. A weight settled on the cushions next to her, pulling her deeper into the lounge.

Paul passed her a glass of water, clinking it against the glass he held in his hand.

"Success" he grinned, draining the glass in one go. He leaned forward and poured another from the jug he had brought in, resting his elbows on his knees.

"I thought for a while there we had an unqualified disaster on our hands, but, in the end, even if it had have gone to plan I don't think it could have been any better." He angled his head, glancing at her, an abstract smile on his face. "It's a wedding no one will forget in while."

"Yes" Madeline grinned. "The day was full of surprises."

"No more so than him." Paul nodded towards the stairs. He sat back, leaning gently against Madeline. "First impressions can be deceiving, it seems."

"Sometimes."

"Are things going to work out? At least he seems to be trying, now."

"We'll survive and, yes, I think everything will be OK."

"That's great." He smiled, finished his drink. "Just great."

"Just... great" Madeline agreed facetiously, a smile twitching at her lip.

Paul nudged her gently with his elbow, head flopping back on the lounge next to hers.

"I should go and say goodnight to Niki, but I'm afraid of what I might walk in on." He turned his head slightly, eyes taking a moment to focus. "Should I be afraid, Madeline?"

"Be afraid Paul, be very afraid" she nodded earnestly. "I have Michael handcuffed to the hot water pipe in the bathroom. We can't take any chances now, can we."

Paul chuckled, shook his head.

"She's asleep in Michaels room. He's sleeping on the floor in Adams room. I'm making no guarantees, however" Madeline advised.

"Can't ask for more than that, can I?" he grinned, a yawn escaping.

Madeline turned to face him, a finger rubbing distractedly against the glass in her hand.

"I better go and check on Adam." She leant across and kissed his cheek. "Thanks" she whispered.

"For what?"

"I don't know, for everything. For this" she shrugged, not really sure what she was saying.

Paul frowned, puzzled, leaning forward with a sigh. "You don't have to thank me."

"I know, but just indulge me, OK. It's all a bit confusing at the moment." She stood, ran fingers through his hair as he stared up at her. "You know where your bed is?" she whispered.

"Yeah... I know" he smiled, eyelids already drooping as he watched her climb the stairs.

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

Something woke him, a noise, a dream, some undefined itch that demanded his attention. Michael glanced to his left, confused for a moment not to see the fuzzy illumination of red numerals of the clock that sat on the drawers by his bed. Eyes closed, he moved a hand to rub wearily at the lids. A slow blink as he stared into the impenetrable darkness surrounding him. He turned slowly, a languid stretch that brought grumbling muscles to life, reminding him finally that he was sleeping on the floor, in Adam's room.

His foggy mind started grinding, pulling together the vague snatches of how, why and where. Adam chattering incessantly in counterpoint to his fathers deep voice reading a story, then a hand ruffling his hair, moving to rest on his forehead, lingering there. His mothers voice, more fingers on his forehead, then prodding gently but incessantly at the burning pain in his hand. His fathers voice again, urging him to sit. A large hand resting reassuringly on the back of his neck as his mother passed him two tablets that were washed down with water so cool and sweet his body deliquesced, folding back into sheets that were once again fresh and dry.

He focussed, fragments moving together into a whole with the understanding that he had been given something to help abate the pain in his injured hand. Pain that had been building steadily all day until it had made him feel nauseous, driving him into bed with mumbled apologies. A slow grin swept across his face as he re-established contact with the here and now, where he was and why. He sat up slowly, passing his hand in front of his face, the white of a bandage floating in the dark as his eyes adjusted to the inky gloom. He leaned forward and searched the floor around him, crawling forward until he found the shelves holding Adam's toys. His hand patted the shapes resting against the wall, plastic, metal and wood, then the velvety fluff of what he was searching for. He pulled the bear from the shelf and moved back to his makeshift bed, arranging it on the pillow and then pilling the extra blanket along the sheet into a lumpy, familiar shape. Pulling the blankets up around it with a satisfied grin he moved slowly to the door, stopping to do the same for Adam where the bedclothes lay in a tangled heap around his legs.

Michael pulled Adam's door shut, made a quick stop in the bathroom before walking the familiar path to his bedroom. With a quick glance down the hallway to the closed door of his mother's bedroom, he turned the doorknob and entered, leaning back against the door until he heard it click softly closed. The thrum of the pulse in his temple measured each slow step towards the bed. He leaned down, sat on the edge of the bed before quickly removing his shorts. He fiddled with the clock by his bed then swept his feet up and under the covers, curling rapturously around the warm back buried under the covers.

"Mmmpphhh..."

"Mmphhhh" Michael agreed, an arm reaching under the pillow to pull her closer, turning her body towards him.

"Mmmm.... M'chul?" Soft breath tickled the skin on his chest, her head rolling lazily against his shoulder.

"Yes, it's me. Who else were you expecting?" She rolled onto her back, a sluggish smile twisting the corners of her mouth, hair sprawled across the pillow like a brush stroke of gold paint. Unable to resist, his lips nuzzled the long, smooth plain of her neck as she rolled onto her back.

"Wha'timezit?"

"Late... early... I don't know" he mumbled, sucking gently on an earlobe, his tongue meticulously tracing the delicate curve then continuing its journey down towards her jaw.

"Mmmmm... s'nice."

Michael rolled over her, resting his weight on elbows and knees, hips grinding gently against hers. He set up a slow, relentless rhythm as fingers traced the soft, velvety skin on the inside of her arms, hypnotised by the languid movement of her body as it rapidly woke beneath his touch. Nikita's head rolled back, her body arching into his as her mouth opened to release a soft moan. Her hands rested on his shoulders, clenching and releasing in senseless regularity like a cat kneading in drowsy contentment.

"Nice" he repeated foolishly, his brain too consumed with lust to offer anything more. He rubbed against her, using the friction of his skin to pull the cotton nightshirt up her body. When it had gathered in a pool around her chest, he swept it over her head. His mouth followed the path of his hands with lazy sweeps of his tongue, exploring every inch of the skin layed out like a feast before him.

Nikita wrapped her legs around his hips, pulling him in as her hands roamed the sinuous expanse of his back, exerting a solid pressure congruent with the movement in his hips. Frenzied movements soon merged into synchronous undulation, a lush cocoon suffused of warmth and sensation. Nikita started to whimper, fingers digging into the straining flesh below his hips with an intensity that would leave bruises. She clutched at him fiercely, riding out the wave of stimulation that threatened to drown her, dimly aware of a sudden emptiness that was quickly replaced by clever fingers, urging her on. Michael's body arched, rubbing himself along the smooth skin of her belly. He continued to thrust against her, grunting softly in her ear until he collapsed in a heap on the bed beside her, his breath a warm mist against her skin.

Michael wove fingers through her hair, pulling her gently until lips brushed softly against hers. They lay still, lips barely touching as they shared the heady air in deep breaths. The moment stretched out, too delicate for words.

He watched Nikita's eyelids droop, a fluttering of eyelashes against pale skin. He reached down and grabbed his shorts, cleaning away the sticky moisture between them before pulling the blankets up around their shoulders. Nikita snuggled against him, pulling his head on to her shoulder as he wound his legs around hers. Both of them caught up in the unfamiliar luxury of time. A warm finger traced the outline of his face then swept down his neck, coming to rest on his shoulder. He rolled his head back so her could see her face and the finger came back up to follow the contours of the smile on his lips.

"Hi" he whispered softly.

"Hi."

"This is weird."

Nikita smiled in drowsy satisfaction. "Weird... but nice. Do you think your mum would mind if I moved in?"

"Do you think your father would?"

"Good point." She rolled over, wriggling down until she was level with his face. "Are you feeling better? Does your hand feel okay?"

Michael shrugged ingenuously. "It's okay. I'm not really thinking about it, thanks to you."

She kissed his nose. "Just what the doctor ordered, huh?"

Michael let out a soft laugh. "I wish my maman had thought of this before she gave me those sleeping pills last night. Or maybe she was thinking of this..."

Nikita grinned, kissed his cheek with a soft whisper of lips. "Are you going to stay?"

"If it's okay with you, then yes."

"What about...?"

"I set the alarm. But I doubt anyone will be up early."

"No kidding. My dad was out of it, he'll sleep for a week."

"So was maman... and papa, and mamie, and George, and..." Michael's voice drifted softly as his eyes closed.

Nikita watched him through sleep heavy lids. Slow, fuzzy blinks seeking confirmation that he was still there. As though she needed proof that the soft warmth wrapped around her was him, and not some fantasy made of twisted blankets and pillows instead of flesh.

"Michael?" She rubbed a finger lightly across his cheek, watched the muscles twitch faintly in response. "Michael... I love you."

His lips parted, expelling a mumbled answer that she had to lean in so close to hear. With a blissful sigh she snuggled up against his warm body, soothed by the steady exhalation of breath against her cheek. Je t'aime. Words savoured like the gentle caress of fingers, lulling her to sleep.

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

He was perched on top of the big hill that led to the park. A long, unbroken reach of white concrete stretched before him, bordered by grass so intensely green it didn't seem real. Beside him Michel sat waiting, leaning forward on the handlebars of his bike, gazing off into the distance as though waiting for something, or someone.

"Go on, Adam" Michel urged, "we can't wait forever."

He looked down towards the verdant expanse of parkland at the base of the hill, his jaw dropping open in amazement as he saw some lions saunter serenely through the long grass. A long neck bowed up from the treetops, bringing with it a head chewing determinedly on a great wad of leaves.

"Look Michel, a giraffe" he spluttered in astonishment, "and over there are hippotamooses."

Michel looked in the direction he was pointing, shrugged, then scratched distractedly at an elbow.

Adam laughed blissfully as the park slowly filled with all kinds of animals, just as he had seen at the zoo last Saturday with Michel and papa. He heard a loud roar in the distance and the sky above the park filled with hundreds of twinkling specks of light. They whirred in great loops at a dizzying speed, too fast for him to make out any pattern or shape.

"What are they?" he asked in awe.

"Fairies, of course" his maman answered in a breathy whisper as she manoeuvred her bike beside him. "I didn't think I'd catch you two, you were so far ahead of me."

"Adam's scared of riding his bike down the hill" Michel answered distractedly, scanning the distance with a hand shielding his eyes from the bright light above.

"Am not" he countered in a shaky voice.

"Yes, you are. But don't be concerned, mon petite, it's nothing to be ashamed of."

In the distance he could see a tall, dark haired man appear, strolling leisurely through the long grass of the park. Beside him, Michel waved frantically trying to get the man's attention. But the man had his head down, watching the hands that he passed over the soft seed stalks jutting up through the dense foliage that now obscured his legs. As the man passed his hand back and forwards over the stalks, the grass seemed to grow taller. He couldn't decide if the mans hands were making the grass grow, or if he was trying to push it back down. The man lifted his head and saw them, waving to them. Beckoning them down with a familiar smile before turning attention back to the grass, which was now up to his chest.

He turned to Michel. Saw the frown on Michel's face as he watched the scene before them, noticed the way his hands gripped the handlebars until his knuckles were white. Michel turned towards him, reached a hand out and rubbed it across his cheek and then did the same to their maman.

"It's time" Michel whispered gravely to them. "We all must be brave and take a chance."

"Ohh Michel" maman begged, "just a minute more... please, its all so... perfect."

"Yes, it is" Michel nodded, his face breaking into a smile as he looked at the two of them. "We can find it again, maman. We always do, together. Please, we have to try, just once more. Please."

With that expectant cry, Michel pushed off. A few turns of the pedals and he was coasting down the hill towards the now impenetrable green wall of the park.

He turned to his maman. "Michel was right, maman. I am afraid" he admitted.

"So am I" she agreed, resting her hand gently on his head. "But Michel's right, we have to try if we're going to stay together, Adam. Come on, my darling, take a deep breath. Are you ready?"

"Will the fairies take care of us?" he asked her, grabbing at her sleeve to hold her back a moment.

"Of course they will, my precious baby. We would never let anything bad happen to you. Don't be afraid Adam, come on." She leant down and kissed his cheek, then pushed gently at his back to get him started.

His legs turned furiously against the pedals, the bike going faster and faster as the wind roared in his ears. He saw a blur pass him, heard his maman's laughter drifting around him. He peddled faster, catching her and passing, laughing so hard he was taking in great gulps of warm air. He felt like he was flying, higher and higher, up into the sky where the twinkling lights spun all around him...

"Arggghhhh..." Adam cried as he fell in a heap on the floor. He rubbed his eyes, uncertain wether he was awake or asleep. A sob escaped as he found his legs stretched painfully up towards the bed, hopelessly tangled in the sheets. With frustrated kicks he managed to work his legs free, crawled over to the mound of pillows and blankets on the floor by the window and pushed his way under the covers.

"Michel, I had a dream" he whimpered, pushing back in search of his brothers reassuring warmth. He pushed back, and back, found himself on the floor again. His eyes opened wide in amazement then fingers clutched at the fuzzy globe of fur that had been masquerading as Michel's head. He pulled the bear to him from where it lay, abandoned, just as he was amongst the ruins of Michel's makeshift bed. Grabbing the bear he stomped out to the bathroom, tears streaming down his face. Finding it empty he went to Michael's bedroom, pushing the door open and making his way to the bed.

"Michel, I had a strange dream and then I couldn't find you" he whimpered miserably, crawling under the covers.

"Adam?" he heard a soft, sleepy voice reply.

Adam frowned, his hand reaching out through the pale shimmer of pre-dawn light, towards the strange voice, fingers encountering something even more strange in the give of flesh and brush of long hair. He let out a yelp at the same time Nikita did, sat up suddenly, pulling the covers away causing eyes to nearly bug out of his head. Warm fingers and a blur of white suddenly obscured the view, another set of fingers clamping over his mouth and pulling him back on the bed. The mattress rocked in a frenzy of muffled activity, shifting under him until it was still again, the fingers still firmly in place.

"Shhh..." Michael hissed softly in his ear. "It's alright. You're dreaming, Adam."

Adam wriggled, pulling the fingers away from his eyes, unable to dislodge the ones over his mouth. He eyes coasted sideways until they found Michael's concerned face, unable to move his head due to the hand clamped over his mouth.

"Shhh mon petite, everyone is still asleep. You were calling out, be quiet now, we don't want to wake them." Michael released the pressure slightly on this mouth, allowing his head to turn so he could see over Michael's shoulder, his eyes roaming the empty room.

"Did you see monsters in your dreams again, Adam. It's okay, it's just us" Michael said firmly, reassuringly. "You were dreaming, but it's okay now. Shhh... go back to sleep." Michael removed his hand slowly, drawing Adam into arms and rubbing his back in a calming motion.

"Not monsters" he stuttered, unsure of what was going on. "I saw Nikita, Michel, she was here, in bed with you" Adam frowned.

"Who else was in your dream?" Michael asked lightly, pulling the covers up around them.

"It wasn't a dream Michel. I saw Nikita! She was right here, just like when we said goodnight to her. She was right here Michel and..."

"No. Nikita offered to sleep downstairs on the lounge because my hand was hurting and I needed to sleep in the bed."

Adam shook his head vehemently in disagreement.

"Yes Adam. Nikita is sleeping downstairs, you were dreaming and you came and got into bed with me, and just now you woke up from another dream. Everything's all right now, mon petite, go back to sleep. You went to bed very late last night and you haven't slept well. Shhh..." Michael's hand continued to rub his back gently, a slow, familiar action of comfort.

"I saw Nikita, Michel" Adam replied, his voice losing some of its conviction.

"Do you see her now?" Michael offered, all too reasonably.

Adam looked around, his mouth screwed up in concentration. "No" he mumbled. "But I did see her, right here, she had no clothes on."

Michael looked sternly at him, his face a mixture of shock and indignation. "Adam, you had a dream about Nikita, and she had no clothes on?"

"No" Adam retorted, aghast at the suggestion, "it wasn't a dream. You're trying to trick me."

Michael ran a finger down Adam's nose, his eyes sympathetic. "Adam" he whispered gently, "I wouldn't try and trick you." He pulled Adam closer, leaning his forehead against his brothers as he whispered patiently. "I... ummm... I don't think you should tell anyone about this, Adam, especially not maman. I think we should keep it as our little secret."

"I *saw* Nikita" Adam whined.

"I know you did, mon petite. I see her in my dreams too. But you'd better not tell anyone, what will they think?" Michael chuckled, turning onto his back, relaxing finally. "The first time this happened to me, papa gave me a *little* talk. All about plumbing, birds, bees and discretion. He kept changing the subject and squirming with unease. For all my embarrassment, I must admit it was very amusing."

"What does that mean? What did he say?" Adam asked, curious.

Michael grinned, turning back towards Adam and rubbing his cheek. "Another time, perhaps, now I think I would like to go back to sleep" Michael sighed through a weary yawn.

"I did have a dream" Adam mumbled indignantly, resting his head on Michael's shoulder.

"I know." Michael resumed stroking his back, "you're safe now, there's nothing to be afraid of."

Adam's head jerked up, an amazed smile on his face. "That's what you said in my dream."

"Then it must be true" Michael smiled, gently tugging his head back down.

They both looked up as Nikita wandered in, dressed in jeans and a too large Navy sweatshirt.

"I thought I heard voices" she grinned, sitting on the edge of the bed. "If I'd known you were going to sleep in here, Adam, I could have taken your bed."

The frown returned to Adam's face, along with a slight blush of embarrassment. He leaned back, watching them closely, head still resting on Michael's shoulder.

"Thanks for giving up the bed. I was feeling pretty bad" Michael smiled encouragingly, touching her cheek. "Was the lounge uncomfortable? Did you sleep okay?"

"Mmmm... I slept just fine, babe. I folded up the blanket and sheets and put the back in the hall cupboard, hope that was okay. How's your hand?"

"It hurts, but I'll live."

"Glad to hear that." She leant down, kissed his cheek, then picked up his bandaged hand, resting it in her lap wrapped in her fingers, eyes turning to Adam. "What's up Adam? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Adam had a strange dream. That's what woke us up."

"Ohhh..." Nikita's head nodded in understanding. "I had lot's of dreams last night too, lovely dreams. It must have been the linguini. Seafood always makes me dream."

"My dream was very real" Adam whispered suspiciously.

"What was it about?" Nikita asked innocently, not noticing the imperceptible shake of Michael's head as the words left her mouth.

Adam turned bright red, spilled Nikita from her perch on the edge of the bed as he suddenly jumped up and raced towards the door. Michael gave a yelp of pain as Nikita fell to the floor, his injured hand still firmly clasped in hers.

"Adam!" Michael hissed as he disappeared out the door.

"I'm want to sleep with maman" he called out, ignoring Michael's urgent cries calling him back. He flew down the corridor to his maman's room, opening the door quietly and slipping inside the darkened bedroom. He walked slowly around the bed, overcome with the entire strangeness of the morning as he saw a larger than usual outline under the covers. Looking more closely he could make out two lumps instead of the one he was now used to. He walked around to one side of the bed, his eyes widening in amazement as he tiptoed around to the other.

"Maman?" he whispered, scratching gently at her cheek. "Maman, I had a strange dream, and when I woke up, Michel..."

Madeline groaned, eye's opening to thin slits as she stared at Adam. "Go back to bed, darling, it's too early" she muttered, eye's blinking closed in an instant. Her dozing face wore a slight smile, lips curling up at one end more distinctly than the other, as though she were recalling some pleasant memory or perhaps a private joke. With a soft exhalation of breath, the body behind her moved, the slight shift of covers exposing a muscular arm wrapped tightly around her waist.

"Maman" Adam whispered querulously, staring distractedly at that arm.

Her eyes opened slightly, followed his, down to the arm in question, then followed the limb back to its source. Sluggish eyes grazed over the sleeping face tucked behind her shoulder, a dreamy smile parted her lips. With a satisfied sigh she rolled her shoulder, wriggling back into the warmth of the bed and the body behind her. A moment passed before her eye's flew open, blinking like a camera shutter on Adam, doing the same to the arm still clasped snugly around her waist.

"Oh dear lord" she groaned, rolling away and on to her stomach.

"Maman?" Adam asked, confused, as her head dived under a pillow, hands clamping the pillow tightly over her head as she let out another, long, tortured groan.

A dark head poked out from beneath the covers, blinking eyes straining to bring him into focus. When he finally made sense of the small face peering intently from the side of the bed, Charles let out a muffled cough, flopped back against the bed with heavy sigh.

"Merde" he mumbled, staring at the ceiling. "J'ai oublié qu'il se réveille tellement tôt."

Another loud groan, sounding almost like agreement, emanated from under the pillow clamped to his maman's head.

"Yes, I still wake up early, papa" Adam confirmed, climbing over his maman, pushing his way into the bed between them. When he was comfortably settled he laid an arm across his maman's back, fingers moving in a gentle rubbing action. Madeline buried herself deeper under the covers, another stifled groan drifting slowly towards him from beneath the pillow still covering her head.

"Papa?"

"Oui?"

"Papa, why does maman keep groaning? Did you do something to her?"

This elicited a loud snort of hysterical laughter from under the pillow.

"Umm..." Charles mumbled, resisting the urge to also hide under the covers. "I didn't hurt her, if that is what you are asking, Adam. At least, I hope I have not hurt her." Charles cast a worried glance towards her before expelling a deep sigh. He laid back against the pillows, eyes staring pensively towards the ceiling.

"Maman?" Adam leaned against his mother, tugging at the pillow over her head.

Madeline pulled the pillow away, and rolled onto her back, rubbing her face, pushing hair out of her eyes. Her head rolled lazily towards him, hands captured Adam's face.

"No Adam" she finally smiled, "your papa did not hurt me. Quite the opposite, actually." Her arms circled him, pulling him close so she could whisper in his ear. "I think the fairies have been and sprinkled magic dust on us." Adam sighed as something sounding dangerously like a giggle sent a puff of warm air against his skin. To weary to try and work all this out he flopped back against the pillows, pulled the blanket up around them as a huge yawn rent his mouth open.

"Everyone is very strange today" he mumbled thoughtfully, head resting against the pillows, staring first at his maman, then his papa.

All eyes in the bed looked up as the door cracked softly open, a head slipped in just enough to allow a pair of worried eyes to peer discretely around the periphery of the room. They finally came to rest on Adam, perched in the middle of the bed. The eyes then moved slowly, the door swinging open under a forgotten hand as Michael took in the other occupants of the bed, his jaw drifting open with the door, almost in sync.

"See Michel, just like in my dream" Adam announced smugly, folding arms behind his head. "I think we all had strange dreams last night, we should tell each other what they were... But how about a story first, a funny story, papa." Adam patted Charles shoulder encouragingly. "Michel said you knew one, about plumbing and bees..."

The door clicked softly shut, closing out the sound of muffled laughter and Adam's voice chattering happily. Michael leaned back, shoulders resting against the solid wood behind him as if securing it, not wanting to let the contents escape. He didn't know whether to laugh or cry, decided on a compromise smile when he saw Nikita's anxious face incline cautiously out from his bedroom.

"Is everything okay?" she whispered.

"I have no idea" he shrugged, a bemused grin settling on his face. He pushed away from the door, slow steps towards her.

Nikita glanced towards the stairwell, listening for a moment before turning back to Michael.

"Everyone's still asleep downstairs" she smiled, one eyebrow raising suggestively.

Michael grasped her hand, holding it in his as a thumb passed backwards and forwards, over her palm. He took a deep breath, shaking his head in delighted bewilderment.

"Michael?"

His eyes met hers with an intensity that stole the breath from his lungs.

"Michael?"

"'Kita, did I tell you about a dream I had last night..." he smiled shyly, pulling her back into the bedroom and closing the door firmly behind them.

Finis

Send suggestions and comments to amw, click HERE!