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hetalia2011-09-07 07:15 pm
starrdust411.livejournal.com) wrote in hetalia2011-09-07 07:15 pm
Entry tags:
[Fic] Little Girls - FrUK
Title: Little Girls
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
starrdust411
Character(s) or Pairing(s): FACE with FrUK
Rating: PG
Warnings: Humor, Gender Bending, Human AU
Summary: Arthur is having a hard time accepting that his little girls may be growing up. (De-anon from thehetalia_kink meme. Request Any member of the FACE family being the only male, and the rest women.)
The sight of lacey under things was nothing new for Arthur. Having been with Francoise for as long as he had had made the sight of even the most expensive and risqué undergarments nearly mundane to him, especially come laundry day. He already knew what setting to put the washer on, how much soap and fabric softener to use, and yes, he admitted that sometimes he would cling to a stray bra or panty a bit too long and run his fingers against the smooth fabric and reminisce about all the fun they'd had while Francoise wore them.
Today was not so mundane, because as he shifted through the seemingly endless piles of clothing in the laundry room, his hand landed on pair that he did not recognize. It was new, he could tell from the price tag that had carelessly been left unclipped, and the red lace trim with silk leopard print front and nearly string thin back seemed like something Francoise would purchase, but... but at the same time it didn't.
Yet the alternative was... unthinkable.
He clutched the garment in his hand, comforted by the knowledge that it had not be worn, and stepped out of the laundry room and into the kitchen. He found Francoise there, sipping at a warm drink and gazing intensely at something on her laptop.
"Francoise," he began, calling out her name with a bit too much volume, but it had the desired effect. Francoise tore her eyes away from her computer screen and gave him her full attention. Arthur wasted no time in lifting the panties into view, silently praying that she gave him the right answer. "Yours?" he asked, panic slowly creeping into his voice. "It must be one of yours, right? Tell me it's yours."
Francoise gave him a thoughtful look, a slight frown creasing her brow, before shaking her head. "Non, not mine," she said finally.
Arthur felt sick, as if his stomach had been filled with spoiled milk. "Are you sure? Are you really sure?" he asked franticly. He knew that he was grasping at straws at this point, but he just couldn't accept that answer.
She gave a dramatic sigh as she reached out her hand and took the panties away from him. Francoise turned them over in her own hands with a look of utter boredom, studying them with the keen eyes of a professional. "Flashy pattern, cheap material, price tag and label unclipped... These obviously belong to a young girl just beginning to explore her own sexuality. Not mine."
The room suddenly began to spin as his legs wobbled, unable to support his own weight. He had to sit down. Arthur barely managed to pull out the chair across from Francoise in time to collapse in it. "Oh God," he breathed. "You can't mean... it's one of theirs?" The words tasted bitter on his tongue and he cringed from the effort of spitting them out. "It can't be. They're just babies."
"They're not babies," Francoise chided. "They're teenagers, young women beginning to understand who they are and exploring themselves and --"
"No." Arthur groaned, rubbing at his eyes with the heel of his palm. "No. They're babies."
-------------
"B-babies?" Arthur stammered. He was suddenly glad that he was sitting, because he wasn't certain that his now numb legs would have been able to support him under the weight of this new development. "Babies? As in more than one?"
Francoise nodded as she pulled out the printed image from that day's ultrasound. It was difficult to make out exactly what they were supposed to be looking at, but the sight of it made him feel twisted up and cold inside. If Arthur had felt guilty about missing the appointment before, then he felt absolutely dreadful now.
"This is Baby A," Francoise said, running her fingers along the black and white picture and tracing the outline of one of the gray blobs. "This is the head, the hands, the feet, and her little body."
"Her?"
"Oui, a girl." Francoise nodded again, before lifting her finger and moving it along the other gray blob. "And this is Baby B. Here is her head-"
"Her?" He blurted out. "Two girls!"
Francoise let out an exasperated sigh, annoyed at being interrupted yet again. "Oui, Arthur, twin girls."
Arthur suddenly felt the need to say something, but found that the words stuck together in his throat. He could only sit there and stare at Francoise's stomach (the slight swell hidden underneath the soft, billowing fabric of her blouse) as if it had betrayed him. He didn't know what was upsetting him more, that they would be first time parents and have to contend with raising two babies or that those two babies were girls. Arthur had never been very good with women. Aside from Francoise and his mummy, he didn't exactly have a wealth of experience dealing with the fairer sex. Now he was going to have to raise two girls.
"Oh, I know that look," Francoise said, poking his shoulder playfully. "You're thinking too much again."
"Thinking too much?" Arthur huffed. "How can I be thinking too much? You just told me we're having twins!" He groaned, his eyes drifting back to the picture in Francoise's hands. "Twin girls," he grumbled.
"Girls, boys, it doesn't matter. Babies are babies," Francoise said casually as she placed the ultrasound image in Arthur's lap. She shifted, adjusting herself so that she could reach forward and grab the bottle of wine that had been sitting untouched in front of them on the coffee table. "You'll be just fine."
"Fine?" Arthur frowned, shaking his head as he gently grabbed the bottle and took it away from Francoise. "I don't think so. I grew up with three brothers, Francoise. I don't have much experience with girls." He sighed as she grabbed a glass and forced the wine bottle out of Arthur's hand. "They're not going to like me."
"Arthur, you're being ridiculous," she chided, pouring the wine nearly to the top of her glass. "I don't have any experience with being a mother and you do not see me worrying."
His frown deepened as she handed the glass to him and placed the bottle back on the coffee table. She shifted again, lifting her legs onto the couch and tucking them underneath her body. "That's because you don't take anything seriously."
"I take things very seriously." She smiled and leaned heavily onto his side, resting most of her weight against him. "But I have God on my side, so I do not have to worry too much. That is why I went to Church after my doctor's appointment and lit candles; one for the babies' health and one to keep them from having your caterpillar eyebrows. Now I feel assured that they will be healthy and beautiful and have my lovely brow."
"So what are you saying? If I light some candles everything will be better?"
"Non, I'm saying that you just need to have faith," Francoise told him. He hated it when she was in one of her an advice giving moods. It only ever served to make him feel worse and her even smugger than she had a right to be.
-------------
Arthur groaned. He felt sick and weak and he suddenly wanted a stiff drink or anything else to not have to deal with this. He felt Francoise's slim fingers in his hair, gently massaging his scalp in a tender, supportive manner, yet somehow the gesture only served to annoy him. He just knew, even without looking at her, that she was not nearly as troubled by all this as he was. How dare she be her usual unperturbed self?
"We're going to have to have a talk with the girls," he informed her.
Her hands stilled at his words. "Talk to them? About what? Wearing underwear?"
"Don't play dumb with me, Francoise," he snapped. "You know as well as I do that a girl would only buy this sort of... of thing because she intends to wear it for someone. What if one of them is sexually active?" He frowned, staring at the laced thong underwear as if it were a ticking time bomb. "Abigail," he muttered. "I'm just sure they're Abigail's."
They just had to belong to Abby, because in her own tomboyish way she was just like Francoise had been at that age. She would always dress one way when she was at home or around them, but as soon as she stepped out the door her modest blouse would be rolled up or tied off to better expose her flat stomach, while her long pants or Capris were tossed aside in favor of miniskirts or a pair of cut off shorts. Abby was a good girl at heart, but she was just too confident and too comfortable with herself for her own good.
Not for the first time Arthur silently wished that Abby were more like her sister. Dear sweet Madeleine, who was always so polite and well behaved. Maddie would never buy something like this. Arthur couldn't imagine her laying her innocent eyes on something so lewd without her face turning bright red.
"You're jumping to conclusions," Francoise said, poking at his shoulder to emphasize her point. "As usual. You are going to go in there without all the answers and yell and scream at poor little Abigail and make her absolutely furious at you."
"Oh, what do you know?" Arthur huffed. "If it was up to you, you'd probably just sit there and ask Abigail if she were having sex and then load her purse with condoms!"
Francoise looked positively affronted, her cheeks burned red and her violet eyes flashed with anger before narrowing into slits. "Is that what you think of me Arthur Kirkland? After all these years you still assume that I am some sex obsessed maniac?"
"Well it's hard to think of you otherwise when you give me little evidence of the contrary!"
"You are just a small minded little boy who expects every woman to be just like your mother!"
"My mother is a saint and I will thank you not to bring her into this!"
"Mama's boy! Freud would have a field day with you."
"Oh, let's not go down this road again."
The sound of the front door swinging open and two pairs of feet walking across the hardwood floor stopped the two from carrying on with their argument. "Maman! Daddy! We're home!" Abby called, her voice carrying from the front door throughout the house.
"I will not be a part of this," Francoise muttered, snatching up her laptop and carrying it away. "Have fun shoving your foot in your mouth, Arthur."
-------------
"Look how small they are," Arthur crooned. He was speaking to himself, he knew it, because Francoise had been asleep for quite some time now.
The labor had taken a lot out of her – after hours of screaming herself hoarse from contractions she’d only been able to get release by getting stabbed with what had to be the biggest needle Arthur had ever seen – and the operation couldn't have been much easier. Yes, she may have been numb from the neck down, but the fact of the matter was that she had been very much awake when the doctors had sliced her open and pulled out two wailing newborns. Arthur shuddered at the very memory. It was hard enough to witness; he couldn't imagine experiencing it all first hand.
It was all done now. The longest day of his life had wrapped up the longest eight months of his life and resulted in the birth of two beautiful little girls. He looked down at Francoise's sleeping form, curled up onto her side and breathing evenly. Her face was still flushed, sweat was still dripping down every inch of her skin, and her rich brown hair sticking out in odd tuffs. He reached down and caressed her pinked, make up free cheek with the tips of his fingers as he gently pulled the hospital blanket closer around her. She had never looked more beautiful to him.
"You're a good woman, Francoise Bonnefoy," he whispered as he pressed a kiss to her warm brow.
The hospital room was eerily quiet. A nurse had come by a little while ago and turned out most of the lights, but even after the day that he had had, Arthur could not find it in himself to go to sleep. A small part of him felt as if it were his duty to stay awake and keep watch over his new little family. So he settled himself into the hospital chair situated between Francoise's bed and the plastic cribs that held his new daughters.
Daughters. He was a father. The term still felt so strange, so new, that he felt certain it wasn't fit for him.
All day the doctors and nurses had been looking at him with knowing smiles and fond glances, as they lay familiar hands on his shoulder and teasingly called him "Daddy." It should have felt exciting, but it was just strange and embarrassing in his ears. Even now that he finally had the time to himself to just sit and think, he still had trouble wrapping his mind around it all, as if the idea of fatherhood were some alien, abstract thought.
A high pitched gurgle pierced the silence in their hospital room, dragging Arthur's attention back to the set of cribs. A nervous flutter filled his stomach as he stood up and peered over at the two newborns. Despite the sudden sound, it appeared as if everything were fine. The twins were laying side by side, breathing calm and even, although it appeared that while one slept the other was wide awake. A small part of him was tempted to go call a nurse to ask if this were normal, but Arthur refrained, reminding himself that newborns were fussy things and hardly ever predictable.
Carefully unfolding the blanket that had swaddled the infant's tiny form, Arthur felt more than a bit of guilt forming in the pit of his stomach as he peered at the little hospital bracelet wrapped around the sleepless twin's leg. Embarrassing as it was to admit, he wouldn't have been able to tell the two apart otherwise.
"Still awake, are you Abigail?" he asked, after reading the newly printed text. He would have to commit this information to memory. Abigail was on the left and Madeleine was on the right. "Sorry, but you two are near identical, so I'm probably going to confuse you for a while. Have patience with me."
Abigail made a noise somewhere between a gurgle and a coo as Arthur carefully rewrapped the soft blanket around her little frame. "I probably won't be the greatest dad to the two of you," he whispered apologetically. "I'm not really used to being around girls. Grew up with three brothers… Prats the lot of them. You probably won't see much of them. And my own father…
"Well, I'm going to try. I'll try my best to make sure you both grow up to be fine respectable ladies."
-------------
Arthur's hand touched the lace thong once more, hesitant as to what to do with it. Should he leave it out in the open or hide it from sight? He heard the girls’ footsteps approaching the kitchen and his hand, acting on its own, instinctively grabbed the undergarment and quickly pulled it off the table and onto his lap. He supposed that this way he'd have more time to approach the topic, but he wished that he wouldn't have to go into it alone.
Damn Francoise for leaving him high and dry. Arthur knew that it was too late to call her back in for support. Once she had wiped her hands of a situation, she would not re-enter. Such a frustrating woman, he thought bitterly.
"Hey Dad," Abby greeted as she entered the kitchen, Maddie following quietly behind her. "Mom said you wanted to talk to us. What's up?"
"Well, yes actually," he sighed. A part of him wanted to tell Maddie to just run along while he spoke to Abby, but he decided against it. After all, even if Abby were the offender in this instance it was important for both the girls to understand the rules of the house. "Sit down girls."
The two of them shared a quick, unreadable glance and not for the first time Arthur wondered if it was true what they say about twins and their ability to communicate in secret.
As they sat, Arthur groaned internally, feeling no more prepared now than he had been when they'd first walked in. He wished he could have had more time to gather his thoughts. A small sigh escaped him as he grasped the laced thing that was at the center of this situation, deciding to quit stalling and take the direct approach.
"I wanted to talk to you girls about this," he said, as he presented the panties to the two of them. It was a struggle to keep the twinge of pink from creeping on to his face. Never in all his years would he have imagined himself having this sort of conversation with his little girls.
Just as Arthur had expected, Maddie's response was avert her eyes and blush at the very sight. Yet Abby, ever the unpredictable one, responded to the appearance of the laced underwear by snickering behind her hand. "Is that one of Mom's?" she tittered. "Ew Dad! Why are you showing us that?"
"No Abigail, it is not your mother's," Arthur corrected wearily. "I found this in one of your laundry bins. Now whose is it?"
Abby was no fool. She noticed right away that Arthur's eyes had landed on her and her alone when he'd asked that question, pegging her as the prime suspect. "You think they're mine?" she asked, not bothering to hide her indignation. "They're not mine."
"Abby-"
"You must really have a low opinion of me."
"I never said-"
"Those are trampy! I would never wear something like that!"
Arthur found that more than a bit hard to believe. After all, he had seen the girl attempt to walk out of the house wearing only cowboy boots, a tube top, and shorts that barely covered her own underwear. For the life of him, Arthur couldn't see how that outfit had been tasteful while these panties were deemed "trampy."
"I'm not accusing you of anything," Arthur tried.
"Yeah, not out loud, but I can tell from that look in your eyes you think it's me!" she huffed before muttering "as usual" under her breath.
Arthur was about to try again, because he wanted Abby to come out and tell him the truth before he could find an appropriate punishment for her, but it was then that Maddie choose to speak up, cutting him off before he could even begin.
"They're not Abby's, Daddy," she admitted sheepishly, her eyes trained not on him or her sister, but her hands clenched together in her lap. "They're mine."
Arthur felt his heart practically sink to his feet at the admission. He could tell just by looking Maddie in the eye that she was telling the truth and that only made matters worse. Suddenly it became painfully clear to him that over the past few months Maddie had not been her usual timid self. Her long wheat colored hair was no longer tied into the girlish twin pigtails she had worn them in since childhood, but now hung loose and flowing down her back. Her posture, usually hunched and guarded, had slowly become straighter as she stood a bit taller and walked with a bit more confidence. The oversized red coat that she would always wear in spite of the season had gone missing from her daily wardrobe allowing her to stand out more instead of hiding back in the folds of her own clothing.
Now that Arthur thought back on it all, he saw that there was a clear transformation taking place inside the girl who had always been his little princess and frankly he wasn't quite sure he approved of it.
"Oh, they're yours Maddie?" Abby asked, as usual missing the tension building in the air. In a typical Abigail like fashion, she decided to overlook the embarrassment growing on her sister's face and the look of heartache in Arthur's eyes and instead turned to pat Maddie on the shoulder in a joking, tender fashion. "Aw, sorry I called them 'trampy.' They're kinda cute and… uh, red. But, uh, who'd you buy them for? Was it because of Gilbert?"
His breath caught in his throat at Abby's careless question as Maddie's eyes widened and her face turned twelve shades redder. It was just as he'd feared. Worse than he'd feared. "Gilbert? Gilbert Beilschmidt? The delinquent!?"
"He's... he's not a delinquent!" Maddie argued, incriminating herself further with her own outburst. "He's a really nice guy. You... you don't even know him."
"Isn't he the young man who got expelled for flooding the boy's locker room?" he asked dryly.
"No Daddy, he released the school's lab rats in the boy's locker room," Abby corrected helpfully.
"I thought those were hamsters," Francoise added from somewhere outside the kitchen.
"They were lab rats," Maddie said, embarrassed and defeated.
"And you want to date this boy?" Clearly the thong wasn't the biggest problem here. "No. No absolutely not. I forbid you to see him!"
"Daddy you can't do that!" Maddie cried. "That's not fair."
"I absolutely can do this, because I'm your father!" He sighed, reeling in his anger. This wasn't right and not at all like his little Maddie. She was behaving more like Abby and that didn't make any sense. "Maddie," he tried again, making sure to keep his tone calm and even, "why are you acting this way? Are you on your period?"
The second the words were out of his mouth and out in the open he realized that he had made a grave mistake. He should have known better than to ever ask a woman that question. In the blink of an eye he was pinned with twin looks of affronted anger.
"What?" Maddie squeaked.
"Seriously Daddy?" Abby huffed.
"Arthur Kirkland you did not just say that!" Francoise yelled, storming into the kitchen in a whirlwind of outrage and indignation.
Wonderful, now he was going to be yelled at in surround sound.
"It just figures that the one time I decide to stand up for myself and what I want you automatically assume that it's because of hormones!"
"C'mon Dad, what century are you living in that you think that you could just say that to a woman! Seriously!"
"Typical male thinking: whenever a woman is the least bit upset it means she's on her period! Congratulations Arthur, after all these years you still don't get women!"
"Alright alright alright!" Arthur barked. He was thankful that his little outburst was enough to get all three women to take a break from screaming at him. He was certain if they'd gone on for one second more he would have had an aneurysm. "Fine, I'm sorry, but..." He sighed, turning his attention back to Maddie. "Madeleine Kirkland, you are not allowed to see that boy. I forbid you and your sister from dating until you've both graduated from college."
"What?" Abby squeaked. "Not cool Dad!"
"That's enough out of you young lady," he chided. "You're both grounded."
"Grounded?" The twins echoed. "Wait a minute," Abby piped in. "I didn't even do anything! Why am I grounded?"
"Because you obviously knew about the Beilschmidt boy and didn't tell us anything," Arthur put in. "And Madeleine, you are going to return this tasteless thing to whatever store you got them from and from now on you will have to have all of your purchases approved by me first."
"Daddy you are not fair!" Maddie cried, tears springing to her eyes as she stood from her seat. "I hate you, Daddy."
"Dad's a Nazi!" Abby yelled as the two stormed out of the kitchen.
-------------
"Daddy, will you play tea party with me?"
Arthur blinked, turning away from his checkbook and the pile of papers spread out across his work desk like dead leaves from a tree. He hadn't even heard Maddie enter the room, she could be so darn quiet without even trying, but he couldn't ignore her now. Not when she was staring up at him with those clear baby blue eyes, her long loose curls tied back in twin pigtails, framing her soft angelic face so sweetly. She was such a pleasant distraction from all these damn bills.
"Tea party? Again princess?" He chuckled, reaching down to tug at the tips of her honey colored hair affectionately. "I'm afraid I can't. I'm quite busy you see."
The hopeful look on her face crumbled away in the blink of an eye, leaving in its wake quiet, sad eyes and a soft quivering lip. He watched Maddie hug her bear, Kumarie, closer to her chest and reminded himself that they had just had a tea party a few days ago and saying no just this once wouldn't be too terrible. Yet even as that thought entered his mind, he was reminded that he had been saying no much more lately. After all he had just started at a new position last month – after receiving a promotion that he had both wanted and dreaded – and between his newly busy schedule and Francoise’s own hectic hours there was a lot to do around the house that was falling to the way side. Bills were piling up, grocery shopping was left undone, chores were being over looked… Arthur wished that one of them could stay home to tie up all the loose ends and give the girls the attention they needed, but things were getting more expensive everyday and it just wouldn't be possible to keep a family of four afloat on only one of their salaries.
"Daddy! Daddy! Play soccer with me!" Abby yelled more than asked as she ran into his study, holding the black and white ball that was nearly as big as she was.
"No running inside, Abigail," he chided. "And I think you mean ‘football,' dear."
"No Daddy, football's the game where the big men wear pads and hit each other," she corrected, her voice filled with childish confidence. "Soccer's the one where you kick the ball around."
"Well, either way, I'm afraid I can't-"
"Daddy's busy," Maddie finished for him.
"Daddy's always busy," Abby pouted.
Arthur sighed, looking between the two girls and his checkbook, he felt absolutely torn. Whether they knew it or not, they were a formidable pair when they teamed up, twin pouts enough to melt even the iciest heart, and Arthur was only human. Yet these bills demanded his attention.
As if summoned by divine intervention, he felt a soft hand tap him on the shoulder. He turned around in his seat and saw Francoise standing above him, looking tired and run down and absolutely beautiful. "You can go play. I can take over from here."
"Didn't you just come home from work?" he asked. Arthur was grateful for the offer, but he could tell from Francoise's haggard appearance that the last thing she would want to do after a long day of work was fret over their budget.
"Yes, but look how cute they are?" she said, patting each girl on the head. "How can you resist these faces? Go play."
Arthur didn't need any more convincing than that. "Alright then," he began, turning to give his two little girls his full attention. "What's say we all go have a tea party and then go kick the ball around?"
He was rewarded with twin cheers of glee and in just a second found his lap filled with his two favorite girls.
-------------
Arthur had to fight to suppress the irritated growl that welled up in his throat as Francoise began poking his shoulder over and over again. "Would you please stop that, Francoise? I am not in the mood."
"You are a mean man, Arthur Kirkland," she said. She gave his side one last poke before pulling out a chair and sitting across from him. "I hope you realize that you completely overreacted."
"And I hope you know you completely underreacted," he shot back. "You know, as husband and wife, we're supposed to be a team. It would have been nice if you had backed me up, at least a little!"
What kind of mother was she? How could she stay so calm after finding out that their daughter had picked up the habit of purchasing lewd undergarments and dating local ruffians? Then again, this was Francoise after all. If anything, her little black French heart was probably swelling with motherly pride at today's revelation.
Francoise scoffed as she ran an aloof hand over her neatly styled brown hair. "I told you that I would not get involved and that is exactly what I did."
Arthur's frown deepened as he began drumming his fingers against the wooden table. "Typical Frenchy," he grumbled. "You just leave me to fight my battles alone and then when the dust has cleared you just swoop in and pick me apart."
"It's what I'm good at," she beamed. "And do you really think you're making a smart move by forbidding Maddie from seeing Gilbert?" She answered her own question with a cluck of her tongue and a shake of her head. "Non, you're only going to drive her even further into that boy's arms."
"What makes you so sure?"
"Because everyone knows that the more her father disapproves of a boy, the more a girl will want him," she said sagely. "Just look at us! My father absolutely hated you, said he would disown me if I stayed with you, and yet here we are: married with two wonderful children."
He was silent as he carefully considered Francoise's words, turning them over in his mind. "Your father really hated me that much?"
"Well he did threaten to kill you."
"I thought he was joking!"
"And when he tried to run you over with his car?"
"He said his breaks were faulty."
"Oh Arthur."
"Don't you 'oh Arthur' me!" He let out a weary groan as he began to rub at his forehead. A deep throbbing pain was building behind his eyes; one that he was certain wouldn't go away anytime soon. "So what are you saying: that I should go up there, take back everything I said, and beg for forgiveness?"
Francoise hummed in mock thoughtfulness as she began drumming her own polished fingers against the table top. "Non," she said at last. "Because anything you say right now will be completely irrational. You are too full of your overprotective 'papa wolf' hot air right at the moment. I think you should just take a moment to clear your head and try to see things from Maddie's point of view."
Arthur huffed, rolling his eyes at Francoise's "brilliant" advice. "Yes, because clearly it's very easy for me to think like a sixteen year old girl."
Francoise let out an overly dramatic sigh, brushing off an invisible speck from her blouse. "Silly man. Always so reluctant to admit when your gorgeous wife has a point." She smiled at him and gave his shoulder a pat. "Go for a walk. I'll start dinner."
-------------
"Look Daddy! I learned to tie my shoes at school today."
Arthur watched as Maddie sat down on the floor, grabbing each lace in her tiny fingers and carefully making little knots and loops all on her own. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he watched the girl's little brow furrow in deep concentration as she focused all her energy on the task.
"I can do that too!" Abby put in. Ever the competitive one, Abby wasted no time in undoing the already secure knot on her own sneaker before setting about recreating it. "I can tie mine faster," she boasted, although Arthur could already tell from the way her little digits fumbled to perform her task that she wasn't as skilled as Maddie just yet.
"Well done girls," he said when both had finished. "I'm very proud of you! But what do you say you let Daddy keep typing your shoes for a bit longer?"
The twins blinked up at him, confusion evident in their wide powder blue eyes. "Why?" Abby asked. "I like tying my shoes."
"Did we do something bad?" Maddie practically whispered the words, and suddenly Arthur felt like a bit of an ass.
"Well... no. Of course not, Maddie. It's just... well..." Arthur found his words coming to a stuttering halt as he struggled to think of something to say. Lifting his eyes, he caught Francoise's gaze from across the room. She pinned him with one of her knowing looks, one that said he'd put his foot in his mouth yet again, before turning back to the magazine that she had been reading. "Daddy just wants to make sure that your shoes are tied nice and tight so that he knows you won't trip and fall, but you two just keep practicing in the mean time."
"Okay," Maddie said quietly, satisfied with his answer.
"I'm gonna get really good and then I'll be able to tie my shoes with my eyes closed," Abby said, as she began untying her laces once more just so she could tie them again. "I bet I can tie a really tight knot, too."
"I'm sure you can," Arthur laughed, patting Maddie's head with one hand and stilling Abby's hands with the other, "but for now, why don't you two go get cleaned up and get ready for dinner?"
The girls gave out twin replies of "okay Daddy," before scampering off to do as they were told.
Once the two children were out of the room, Francoise let out a very loud and un-lady like snort. "That was very good Arthur," she said, sarcasm heavily coating her words. "I can't wait to hear what you think up when they're ready to take the training wheels off of their bikes."
"Oh stuff it," Arthur huffed. "If you're trying to imply-"
"I don't have to imply anything," she cut in. "You make it all very clear without any help from me."
Arthur didn't even bother to respond to Francoise's accusation. He knew good and well that there was nothing wrong with his behavior. He was a loving, attentive father who only wanted what's best for his girls. There was nothing wrong with that. Nothing at all.
----------
Arthur had circled the block three times when he finally came to the realization that Francoise may have been right (although he wouldn't admit it to her face) about his behavior earlier. He didn't know whether it was the fresh air or the walk itself that had helped to clear his head, but by the time the sun had begun to sink into the horizon he was starting to think that he may have been out of line in grounding the girls. They were good children at heart, after all, and Maddie had never disobeyed him before so it wouldn't hurt to show a bit of leniency just this once.
As he rounded the corner, heading back home, Arthur briefly considered dropping by the store and picking up a box of sweets or a pint of ice cream to try and regain favor with his girls, but thought better of it. Such cheap tricks didn't work on them as well as they had in years past. It had been so easy to earn their forgiveness back then. Whenever he had slipped up and made a mistake or missed out on an important event all he ever had to do was buy one of the girls a new doll or a dress and give their cheeks a quick pinch or their hair a fond tug. Their eyes would light up and their arms would wrap around his neck and suddenly he was the greatest daddy in the world again and everything else was forgotten.
With a longing sigh he shook those thoughts out of his mind. He had been living in the past for far too long.
It was nearly six by the time he had finally gotten back home and he could tell from the rich aroma hanging in the air that Francoise was nearly done with dinner. Arthur ignored her for now (she could get her shots in later) deciding instead to head straight upstairs and seek out the girls. He chose to go to Maddie's room first, figuring that he had more to make up for with her.
His gentle raps against the wooden door were met with a loud scoff and Abby grumbling "It must be the fuehrer."
Arthur rolled his eyes at her comment. He should have known that he'd find the two girls together. When one was upset, the other was likely to be close by, and considering that both were obviously still irritated with him...
"I heard that Abigail," he said sternly. "Now open this door. I want to talk to the two of you."
There were no sarcastic comments this time, only the sound of a bed creaking and footsteps followed by the door swinging open. He was instantly greeted by Abby's perturbed face and ridged posture, a clear indication that the girl was not in a very forgiving mood, while Maddie sat on the bed with Kumarie held tightly against her chest as she quickly wiped away (he assumed) the tear tracks that had marked her pale cheeks. It seemed that he had more work cut out for him than he'd originally thought.
"I know you girls are still mad at me," he began wearily, "but I still want to talk."
Sitting down on the soft pink comforter that decorated Maddie's bed, he patted either side of the mattress, signaling the two girls to take a seat. After a moment's hesitation, the two complied, Maddie coming to sit on his right and Abby on his left. Arthur wrapped an arm around their shoulders, drawing them closer and causing the two to stiffen at his touch. He tried not to let it bother him, reminding himself that he deserved it... somewhat.
"I'm sorry about this afternoon," he began sincerely. "I suppose I overreacted a bit-"
"A bit?" Abby snipped.
"-but you have to understand," he went on, ignoring Abby and the bitterness still lingering in her voice, "all this is a bit hard for me. After all, when I look at you two, I still see those little pink babies we brought home from the hospital."
"But we're not babies Daddy," Abby pointed out. "And you can't keep treating us like we are."
"I know," he sighed. He could feel the two relaxing in his embrace, just a bit, from that one admission. "I know. And I also know that I have to start allowing myself to trust you and your judgment. You are smart girls and your mother and I have raised you well. So, I suppose what I'm trying to say is, you're not grounded."
"Does this mean you're going to give Gilbert a chance?" Maddie asked hopefully.
Arthur stiffened at her words. He should have expected that question, but he had been praying that all thoughts of Beilschmidt had left her head. As it stood, he found himself at a loss. In his mind, no man was good enough for his little Madeleine and what he'd heard of this young man did not seem at all promising. "Well, I don't..." he began.
"Please Daddy, won't you consider at least talking to him?" Maddie pleaded. Her wide eyes were so full of hope and longing that it was near impossible to resist. "He's a really nice guy. I know you'll like him."
"Yeah Dad, Gilbert's pretty awesome," Abby added helpfully. "Besides, do you really think you can keep me and Maddie from dating until we're out of college? We're total hotties! Guys are always gonna be drooling over us."
He didn't bother to hide the shudder or groan that escaped him from Abby's careless words. Not for the first time he cursed the fact that his girls had inherited their mother's looks (damn that sexy French bitch!) as he reminded himself that keeping them locked away in their rooms until they were thirty was not a practical option. "Alright, how about we make a new rule?" he suggested. "Any potential boyfriend has to come over for dinner first and get my approval. You two are respectable young women after all."
"So Gilbert can come over?" Maddie breathed, excitement bubbling inside her.
"Yes, invite him over for Sunday dinner," he relented. "Just promise me you'll return those panties and never buy another thong ever again."
"Oh Daddy!" Maddie gushed, wrapping her arms tight around his middle. "I love you!"
"You rock Dad!" Abby agreed, hugging him with equal enthusiasm.
Arthur sighed, returning their hug. He knew that he had lost this battle, but at least his girls still loved him.
-----------
The calming stillness of night could not come soon enough for Arthur. The events of the day had left him so hopelessly worn that he barely had the strength in him to make it underneath the covers, choosing instead to just lie back on the silk comforter and stare blankly up at the ceiling. Francoise passed his prone form several times as she went about her nightly routine (applying a seemingly endless series of creams and lotions and oils and whatever else she did to make herself stay soft and glamorous) before settling in on the bed next to him.
"So we're having young Mr. Beilschmidt for dinner Sunday?" she asked teasingly, propping herself up on one elbow, head rested in her delicate hand. "My! What a spectacle that will turn out to be. Any tricks planned for the occasion?"
"Just one," Arthur grumbled darkly. "Here's what I have in store: you're going to make something French and decadent and once he's bloated and drunk on food, I'm going to sneak outside and cut the break lines on his car."
"I do believe he owns a motorcycle."*
Anger bubbled deep within his stomach, driving off the sleepy haze that had slowly been creeping over his mind. "That son of a bitch."
"Arthur! Don't be like that," she chided. "You're starting to sound like my father." For some strange reason she choose that moment to lean over and kiss him, soft and gentle, lingering in that way that allowed him to breath in all her wonderful, various scents and...
"Don't kiss me," he huffed, turning himself over so that his back was facing her. "This is all your fault!"
"Quoi?"
"You and your damn candles," Arthur said bitterly as he remembered a conversation from so many years ago. "Why did you have to make the girls so beautiful? I wish they were fat and homely so I'd be the only man to ever love them and they'd love me forever and ever because I'd kiss their cheeks and feed them sweeties whenever they wanted and GWAH!"
His admittedly mad rambling was rudely interrupted when Francoise grabbed one of the many useless pillows that adorned their bed and shoved it over his head, pressing down with nearly enough force to smoother him. Not that Arthur Kirkland would ever allow himself to be defeated by a Frenchy. He flailed his arms around for a few moments, before grabbing his deceptively petite wife by her waist and pushing her away from him.
"Stop it Francoise!" he barked once he had regained his breath. "I already told you I wasn't in the mood."
"Non, you stop it!" she snapped. "You're being a ridiculous old man."
"I'm not old."
"Oui, the girls have inherited my good looks and they are young and fresh faced and they will no doubt turn the heads of every straight man that crosses their path, but you are forgetting one very important thing." Arthur waited through his wife's dramatic pause, his ears perking up ever so slightly in anticipation of whatever it was that Francoise had to say. "They are smart and strong (very, very strong) and no man will ever take from them what they will not give willingly."
Arthur gave a soft sigh as he curled onto his side. He wished he could take comfort in Francoise's words, but it all rang hollow in his ears. "I suppose you're right," he muttered. "But you have to admit that life would have been a whole lot better if they were boys."
"Non, I do not agree."
Arthur frowned, turning over slightly. "Why not?"
"Because then I would have to lose sleep every night wondering whether or not they got some slut pregnant," she answered, her words quick and sharp. Clearly this was a thought that had crossed her mind before. "Now, let us talk of this no further. I am going to get naked and you will have exactly thirty seconds from the time my panties hit the floor to start fucking me long and hard or I will be forced to cheat on you with that Scottish brother of yours."
It was less than one second after that sentence was finished that Arthur pounced on his wife, intent on making sure that all his troubling thoughts were pushed far away for another day.
-
*The one man motorcycle gang is forming.
Author:
starrdust411Character(s) or Pairing(s): FACE with FrUK
Rating: PG
Warnings: Humor, Gender Bending, Human AU
Summary: Arthur is having a hard time accepting that his little girls may be growing up. (De-anon from the
hetalia_kink meme. Request Any member of the FACE family being the only male, and the rest women.)The sight of lacey under things was nothing new for Arthur. Having been with Francoise for as long as he had had made the sight of even the most expensive and risqué undergarments nearly mundane to him, especially come laundry day. He already knew what setting to put the washer on, how much soap and fabric softener to use, and yes, he admitted that sometimes he would cling to a stray bra or panty a bit too long and run his fingers against the smooth fabric and reminisce about all the fun they'd had while Francoise wore them.
Today was not so mundane, because as he shifted through the seemingly endless piles of clothing in the laundry room, his hand landed on pair that he did not recognize. It was new, he could tell from the price tag that had carelessly been left unclipped, and the red lace trim with silk leopard print front and nearly string thin back seemed like something Francoise would purchase, but... but at the same time it didn't.
Yet the alternative was... unthinkable.
He clutched the garment in his hand, comforted by the knowledge that it had not be worn, and stepped out of the laundry room and into the kitchen. He found Francoise there, sipping at a warm drink and gazing intensely at something on her laptop.
"Francoise," he began, calling out her name with a bit too much volume, but it had the desired effect. Francoise tore her eyes away from her computer screen and gave him her full attention. Arthur wasted no time in lifting the panties into view, silently praying that she gave him the right answer. "Yours?" he asked, panic slowly creeping into his voice. "It must be one of yours, right? Tell me it's yours."
Francoise gave him a thoughtful look, a slight frown creasing her brow, before shaking her head. "Non, not mine," she said finally.
Arthur felt sick, as if his stomach had been filled with spoiled milk. "Are you sure? Are you really sure?" he asked franticly. He knew that he was grasping at straws at this point, but he just couldn't accept that answer.
She gave a dramatic sigh as she reached out her hand and took the panties away from him. Francoise turned them over in her own hands with a look of utter boredom, studying them with the keen eyes of a professional. "Flashy pattern, cheap material, price tag and label unclipped... These obviously belong to a young girl just beginning to explore her own sexuality. Not mine."
The room suddenly began to spin as his legs wobbled, unable to support his own weight. He had to sit down. Arthur barely managed to pull out the chair across from Francoise in time to collapse in it. "Oh God," he breathed. "You can't mean... it's one of theirs?" The words tasted bitter on his tongue and he cringed from the effort of spitting them out. "It can't be. They're just babies."
"They're not babies," Francoise chided. "They're teenagers, young women beginning to understand who they are and exploring themselves and --"
"No." Arthur groaned, rubbing at his eyes with the heel of his palm. "No. They're babies."
-------------
"B-babies?" Arthur stammered. He was suddenly glad that he was sitting, because he wasn't certain that his now numb legs would have been able to support him under the weight of this new development. "Babies? As in more than one?"
Francoise nodded as she pulled out the printed image from that day's ultrasound. It was difficult to make out exactly what they were supposed to be looking at, but the sight of it made him feel twisted up and cold inside. If Arthur had felt guilty about missing the appointment before, then he felt absolutely dreadful now.
"This is Baby A," Francoise said, running her fingers along the black and white picture and tracing the outline of one of the gray blobs. "This is the head, the hands, the feet, and her little body."
"Her?"
"Oui, a girl." Francoise nodded again, before lifting her finger and moving it along the other gray blob. "And this is Baby B. Here is her head-"
"Her?" He blurted out. "Two girls!"
Francoise let out an exasperated sigh, annoyed at being interrupted yet again. "Oui, Arthur, twin girls."
Arthur suddenly felt the need to say something, but found that the words stuck together in his throat. He could only sit there and stare at Francoise's stomach (the slight swell hidden underneath the soft, billowing fabric of her blouse) as if it had betrayed him. He didn't know what was upsetting him more, that they would be first time parents and have to contend with raising two babies or that those two babies were girls. Arthur had never been very good with women. Aside from Francoise and his mummy, he didn't exactly have a wealth of experience dealing with the fairer sex. Now he was going to have to raise two girls.
"Oh, I know that look," Francoise said, poking his shoulder playfully. "You're thinking too much again."
"Thinking too much?" Arthur huffed. "How can I be thinking too much? You just told me we're having twins!" He groaned, his eyes drifting back to the picture in Francoise's hands. "Twin girls," he grumbled.
"Girls, boys, it doesn't matter. Babies are babies," Francoise said casually as she placed the ultrasound image in Arthur's lap. She shifted, adjusting herself so that she could reach forward and grab the bottle of wine that had been sitting untouched in front of them on the coffee table. "You'll be just fine."
"Fine?" Arthur frowned, shaking his head as he gently grabbed the bottle and took it away from Francoise. "I don't think so. I grew up with three brothers, Francoise. I don't have much experience with girls." He sighed as she grabbed a glass and forced the wine bottle out of Arthur's hand. "They're not going to like me."
"Arthur, you're being ridiculous," she chided, pouring the wine nearly to the top of her glass. "I don't have any experience with being a mother and you do not see me worrying."
His frown deepened as she handed the glass to him and placed the bottle back on the coffee table. She shifted again, lifting her legs onto the couch and tucking them underneath her body. "That's because you don't take anything seriously."
"I take things very seriously." She smiled and leaned heavily onto his side, resting most of her weight against him. "But I have God on my side, so I do not have to worry too much. That is why I went to Church after my doctor's appointment and lit candles; one for the babies' health and one to keep them from having your caterpillar eyebrows. Now I feel assured that they will be healthy and beautiful and have my lovely brow."
"So what are you saying? If I light some candles everything will be better?"
"Non, I'm saying that you just need to have faith," Francoise told him. He hated it when she was in one of her an advice giving moods. It only ever served to make him feel worse and her even smugger than she had a right to be.
-------------
Arthur groaned. He felt sick and weak and he suddenly wanted a stiff drink or anything else to not have to deal with this. He felt Francoise's slim fingers in his hair, gently massaging his scalp in a tender, supportive manner, yet somehow the gesture only served to annoy him. He just knew, even without looking at her, that she was not nearly as troubled by all this as he was. How dare she be her usual unperturbed self?
"We're going to have to have a talk with the girls," he informed her.
Her hands stilled at his words. "Talk to them? About what? Wearing underwear?"
"Don't play dumb with me, Francoise," he snapped. "You know as well as I do that a girl would only buy this sort of... of thing because she intends to wear it for someone. What if one of them is sexually active?" He frowned, staring at the laced thong underwear as if it were a ticking time bomb. "Abigail," he muttered. "I'm just sure they're Abigail's."
They just had to belong to Abby, because in her own tomboyish way she was just like Francoise had been at that age. She would always dress one way when she was at home or around them, but as soon as she stepped out the door her modest blouse would be rolled up or tied off to better expose her flat stomach, while her long pants or Capris were tossed aside in favor of miniskirts or a pair of cut off shorts. Abby was a good girl at heart, but she was just too confident and too comfortable with herself for her own good.
Not for the first time Arthur silently wished that Abby were more like her sister. Dear sweet Madeleine, who was always so polite and well behaved. Maddie would never buy something like this. Arthur couldn't imagine her laying her innocent eyes on something so lewd without her face turning bright red.
"You're jumping to conclusions," Francoise said, poking at his shoulder to emphasize her point. "As usual. You are going to go in there without all the answers and yell and scream at poor little Abigail and make her absolutely furious at you."
"Oh, what do you know?" Arthur huffed. "If it was up to you, you'd probably just sit there and ask Abigail if she were having sex and then load her purse with condoms!"
Francoise looked positively affronted, her cheeks burned red and her violet eyes flashed with anger before narrowing into slits. "Is that what you think of me Arthur Kirkland? After all these years you still assume that I am some sex obsessed maniac?"
"Well it's hard to think of you otherwise when you give me little evidence of the contrary!"
"You are just a small minded little boy who expects every woman to be just like your mother!"
"My mother is a saint and I will thank you not to bring her into this!"
"Mama's boy! Freud would have a field day with you."
"Oh, let's not go down this road again."
The sound of the front door swinging open and two pairs of feet walking across the hardwood floor stopped the two from carrying on with their argument. "Maman! Daddy! We're home!" Abby called, her voice carrying from the front door throughout the house.
"I will not be a part of this," Francoise muttered, snatching up her laptop and carrying it away. "Have fun shoving your foot in your mouth, Arthur."
-------------
"Look how small they are," Arthur crooned. He was speaking to himself, he knew it, because Francoise had been asleep for quite some time now.
The labor had taken a lot out of her – after hours of screaming herself hoarse from contractions she’d only been able to get release by getting stabbed with what had to be the biggest needle Arthur had ever seen – and the operation couldn't have been much easier. Yes, she may have been numb from the neck down, but the fact of the matter was that she had been very much awake when the doctors had sliced her open and pulled out two wailing newborns. Arthur shuddered at the very memory. It was hard enough to witness; he couldn't imagine experiencing it all first hand.
It was all done now. The longest day of his life had wrapped up the longest eight months of his life and resulted in the birth of two beautiful little girls. He looked down at Francoise's sleeping form, curled up onto her side and breathing evenly. Her face was still flushed, sweat was still dripping down every inch of her skin, and her rich brown hair sticking out in odd tuffs. He reached down and caressed her pinked, make up free cheek with the tips of his fingers as he gently pulled the hospital blanket closer around her. She had never looked more beautiful to him.
"You're a good woman, Francoise Bonnefoy," he whispered as he pressed a kiss to her warm brow.
The hospital room was eerily quiet. A nurse had come by a little while ago and turned out most of the lights, but even after the day that he had had, Arthur could not find it in himself to go to sleep. A small part of him felt as if it were his duty to stay awake and keep watch over his new little family. So he settled himself into the hospital chair situated between Francoise's bed and the plastic cribs that held his new daughters.
Daughters. He was a father. The term still felt so strange, so new, that he felt certain it wasn't fit for him.
All day the doctors and nurses had been looking at him with knowing smiles and fond glances, as they lay familiar hands on his shoulder and teasingly called him "Daddy." It should have felt exciting, but it was just strange and embarrassing in his ears. Even now that he finally had the time to himself to just sit and think, he still had trouble wrapping his mind around it all, as if the idea of fatherhood were some alien, abstract thought.
A high pitched gurgle pierced the silence in their hospital room, dragging Arthur's attention back to the set of cribs. A nervous flutter filled his stomach as he stood up and peered over at the two newborns. Despite the sudden sound, it appeared as if everything were fine. The twins were laying side by side, breathing calm and even, although it appeared that while one slept the other was wide awake. A small part of him was tempted to go call a nurse to ask if this were normal, but Arthur refrained, reminding himself that newborns were fussy things and hardly ever predictable.
Carefully unfolding the blanket that had swaddled the infant's tiny form, Arthur felt more than a bit of guilt forming in the pit of his stomach as he peered at the little hospital bracelet wrapped around the sleepless twin's leg. Embarrassing as it was to admit, he wouldn't have been able to tell the two apart otherwise.
"Still awake, are you Abigail?" he asked, after reading the newly printed text. He would have to commit this information to memory. Abigail was on the left and Madeleine was on the right. "Sorry, but you two are near identical, so I'm probably going to confuse you for a while. Have patience with me."
Abigail made a noise somewhere between a gurgle and a coo as Arthur carefully rewrapped the soft blanket around her little frame. "I probably won't be the greatest dad to the two of you," he whispered apologetically. "I'm not really used to being around girls. Grew up with three brothers… Prats the lot of them. You probably won't see much of them. And my own father…
"Well, I'm going to try. I'll try my best to make sure you both grow up to be fine respectable ladies."
-------------
Arthur's hand touched the lace thong once more, hesitant as to what to do with it. Should he leave it out in the open or hide it from sight? He heard the girls’ footsteps approaching the kitchen and his hand, acting on its own, instinctively grabbed the undergarment and quickly pulled it off the table and onto his lap. He supposed that this way he'd have more time to approach the topic, but he wished that he wouldn't have to go into it alone.
Damn Francoise for leaving him high and dry. Arthur knew that it was too late to call her back in for support. Once she had wiped her hands of a situation, she would not re-enter. Such a frustrating woman, he thought bitterly.
"Hey Dad," Abby greeted as she entered the kitchen, Maddie following quietly behind her. "Mom said you wanted to talk to us. What's up?"
"Well, yes actually," he sighed. A part of him wanted to tell Maddie to just run along while he spoke to Abby, but he decided against it. After all, even if Abby were the offender in this instance it was important for both the girls to understand the rules of the house. "Sit down girls."
The two of them shared a quick, unreadable glance and not for the first time Arthur wondered if it was true what they say about twins and their ability to communicate in secret.
As they sat, Arthur groaned internally, feeling no more prepared now than he had been when they'd first walked in. He wished he could have had more time to gather his thoughts. A small sigh escaped him as he grasped the laced thing that was at the center of this situation, deciding to quit stalling and take the direct approach.
"I wanted to talk to you girls about this," he said, as he presented the panties to the two of them. It was a struggle to keep the twinge of pink from creeping on to his face. Never in all his years would he have imagined himself having this sort of conversation with his little girls.
Just as Arthur had expected, Maddie's response was avert her eyes and blush at the very sight. Yet Abby, ever the unpredictable one, responded to the appearance of the laced underwear by snickering behind her hand. "Is that one of Mom's?" she tittered. "Ew Dad! Why are you showing us that?"
"No Abigail, it is not your mother's," Arthur corrected wearily. "I found this in one of your laundry bins. Now whose is it?"
Abby was no fool. She noticed right away that Arthur's eyes had landed on her and her alone when he'd asked that question, pegging her as the prime suspect. "You think they're mine?" she asked, not bothering to hide her indignation. "They're not mine."
"Abby-"
"You must really have a low opinion of me."
"I never said-"
"Those are trampy! I would never wear something like that!"
Arthur found that more than a bit hard to believe. After all, he had seen the girl attempt to walk out of the house wearing only cowboy boots, a tube top, and shorts that barely covered her own underwear. For the life of him, Arthur couldn't see how that outfit had been tasteful while these panties were deemed "trampy."
"I'm not accusing you of anything," Arthur tried.
"Yeah, not out loud, but I can tell from that look in your eyes you think it's me!" she huffed before muttering "as usual" under her breath.
Arthur was about to try again, because he wanted Abby to come out and tell him the truth before he could find an appropriate punishment for her, but it was then that Maddie choose to speak up, cutting him off before he could even begin.
"They're not Abby's, Daddy," she admitted sheepishly, her eyes trained not on him or her sister, but her hands clenched together in her lap. "They're mine."
Arthur felt his heart practically sink to his feet at the admission. He could tell just by looking Maddie in the eye that she was telling the truth and that only made matters worse. Suddenly it became painfully clear to him that over the past few months Maddie had not been her usual timid self. Her long wheat colored hair was no longer tied into the girlish twin pigtails she had worn them in since childhood, but now hung loose and flowing down her back. Her posture, usually hunched and guarded, had slowly become straighter as she stood a bit taller and walked with a bit more confidence. The oversized red coat that she would always wear in spite of the season had gone missing from her daily wardrobe allowing her to stand out more instead of hiding back in the folds of her own clothing.
Now that Arthur thought back on it all, he saw that there was a clear transformation taking place inside the girl who had always been his little princess and frankly he wasn't quite sure he approved of it.
"Oh, they're yours Maddie?" Abby asked, as usual missing the tension building in the air. In a typical Abigail like fashion, she decided to overlook the embarrassment growing on her sister's face and the look of heartache in Arthur's eyes and instead turned to pat Maddie on the shoulder in a joking, tender fashion. "Aw, sorry I called them 'trampy.' They're kinda cute and… uh, red. But, uh, who'd you buy them for? Was it because of Gilbert?"
His breath caught in his throat at Abby's careless question as Maddie's eyes widened and her face turned twelve shades redder. It was just as he'd feared. Worse than he'd feared. "Gilbert? Gilbert Beilschmidt? The delinquent!?"
"He's... he's not a delinquent!" Maddie argued, incriminating herself further with her own outburst. "He's a really nice guy. You... you don't even know him."
"Isn't he the young man who got expelled for flooding the boy's locker room?" he asked dryly.
"No Daddy, he released the school's lab rats in the boy's locker room," Abby corrected helpfully.
"I thought those were hamsters," Francoise added from somewhere outside the kitchen.
"They were lab rats," Maddie said, embarrassed and defeated.
"And you want to date this boy?" Clearly the thong wasn't the biggest problem here. "No. No absolutely not. I forbid you to see him!"
"Daddy you can't do that!" Maddie cried. "That's not fair."
"I absolutely can do this, because I'm your father!" He sighed, reeling in his anger. This wasn't right and not at all like his little Maddie. She was behaving more like Abby and that didn't make any sense. "Maddie," he tried again, making sure to keep his tone calm and even, "why are you acting this way? Are you on your period?"
The second the words were out of his mouth and out in the open he realized that he had made a grave mistake. He should have known better than to ever ask a woman that question. In the blink of an eye he was pinned with twin looks of affronted anger.
"What?" Maddie squeaked.
"Seriously Daddy?" Abby huffed.
"Arthur Kirkland you did not just say that!" Francoise yelled, storming into the kitchen in a whirlwind of outrage and indignation.
Wonderful, now he was going to be yelled at in surround sound.
"It just figures that the one time I decide to stand up for myself and what I want you automatically assume that it's because of hormones!"
"C'mon Dad, what century are you living in that you think that you could just say that to a woman! Seriously!"
"Typical male thinking: whenever a woman is the least bit upset it means she's on her period! Congratulations Arthur, after all these years you still don't get women!"
"Alright alright alright!" Arthur barked. He was thankful that his little outburst was enough to get all three women to take a break from screaming at him. He was certain if they'd gone on for one second more he would have had an aneurysm. "Fine, I'm sorry, but..." He sighed, turning his attention back to Maddie. "Madeleine Kirkland, you are not allowed to see that boy. I forbid you and your sister from dating until you've both graduated from college."
"What?" Abby squeaked. "Not cool Dad!"
"That's enough out of you young lady," he chided. "You're both grounded."
"Grounded?" The twins echoed. "Wait a minute," Abby piped in. "I didn't even do anything! Why am I grounded?"
"Because you obviously knew about the Beilschmidt boy and didn't tell us anything," Arthur put in. "And Madeleine, you are going to return this tasteless thing to whatever store you got them from and from now on you will have to have all of your purchases approved by me first."
"Daddy you are not fair!" Maddie cried, tears springing to her eyes as she stood from her seat. "I hate you, Daddy."
"Dad's a Nazi!" Abby yelled as the two stormed out of the kitchen.
-------------
"Daddy, will you play tea party with me?"
Arthur blinked, turning away from his checkbook and the pile of papers spread out across his work desk like dead leaves from a tree. He hadn't even heard Maddie enter the room, she could be so darn quiet without even trying, but he couldn't ignore her now. Not when she was staring up at him with those clear baby blue eyes, her long loose curls tied back in twin pigtails, framing her soft angelic face so sweetly. She was such a pleasant distraction from all these damn bills.
"Tea party? Again princess?" He chuckled, reaching down to tug at the tips of her honey colored hair affectionately. "I'm afraid I can't. I'm quite busy you see."
The hopeful look on her face crumbled away in the blink of an eye, leaving in its wake quiet, sad eyes and a soft quivering lip. He watched Maddie hug her bear, Kumarie, closer to her chest and reminded himself that they had just had a tea party a few days ago and saying no just this once wouldn't be too terrible. Yet even as that thought entered his mind, he was reminded that he had been saying no much more lately. After all he had just started at a new position last month – after receiving a promotion that he had both wanted and dreaded – and between his newly busy schedule and Francoise’s own hectic hours there was a lot to do around the house that was falling to the way side. Bills were piling up, grocery shopping was left undone, chores were being over looked… Arthur wished that one of them could stay home to tie up all the loose ends and give the girls the attention they needed, but things were getting more expensive everyday and it just wouldn't be possible to keep a family of four afloat on only one of their salaries.
"Daddy! Daddy! Play soccer with me!" Abby yelled more than asked as she ran into his study, holding the black and white ball that was nearly as big as she was.
"No running inside, Abigail," he chided. "And I think you mean ‘football,' dear."
"No Daddy, football's the game where the big men wear pads and hit each other," she corrected, her voice filled with childish confidence. "Soccer's the one where you kick the ball around."
"Well, either way, I'm afraid I can't-"
"Daddy's busy," Maddie finished for him.
"Daddy's always busy," Abby pouted.
Arthur sighed, looking between the two girls and his checkbook, he felt absolutely torn. Whether they knew it or not, they were a formidable pair when they teamed up, twin pouts enough to melt even the iciest heart, and Arthur was only human. Yet these bills demanded his attention.
As if summoned by divine intervention, he felt a soft hand tap him on the shoulder. He turned around in his seat and saw Francoise standing above him, looking tired and run down and absolutely beautiful. "You can go play. I can take over from here."
"Didn't you just come home from work?" he asked. Arthur was grateful for the offer, but he could tell from Francoise's haggard appearance that the last thing she would want to do after a long day of work was fret over their budget.
"Yes, but look how cute they are?" she said, patting each girl on the head. "How can you resist these faces? Go play."
Arthur didn't need any more convincing than that. "Alright then," he began, turning to give his two little girls his full attention. "What's say we all go have a tea party and then go kick the ball around?"
He was rewarded with twin cheers of glee and in just a second found his lap filled with his two favorite girls.
-------------
Arthur had to fight to suppress the irritated growl that welled up in his throat as Francoise began poking his shoulder over and over again. "Would you please stop that, Francoise? I am not in the mood."
"You are a mean man, Arthur Kirkland," she said. She gave his side one last poke before pulling out a chair and sitting across from him. "I hope you realize that you completely overreacted."
"And I hope you know you completely underreacted," he shot back. "You know, as husband and wife, we're supposed to be a team. It would have been nice if you had backed me up, at least a little!"
What kind of mother was she? How could she stay so calm after finding out that their daughter had picked up the habit of purchasing lewd undergarments and dating local ruffians? Then again, this was Francoise after all. If anything, her little black French heart was probably swelling with motherly pride at today's revelation.
Francoise scoffed as she ran an aloof hand over her neatly styled brown hair. "I told you that I would not get involved and that is exactly what I did."
Arthur's frown deepened as he began drumming his fingers against the wooden table. "Typical Frenchy," he grumbled. "You just leave me to fight my battles alone and then when the dust has cleared you just swoop in and pick me apart."
"It's what I'm good at," she beamed. "And do you really think you're making a smart move by forbidding Maddie from seeing Gilbert?" She answered her own question with a cluck of her tongue and a shake of her head. "Non, you're only going to drive her even further into that boy's arms."
"What makes you so sure?"
"Because everyone knows that the more her father disapproves of a boy, the more a girl will want him," she said sagely. "Just look at us! My father absolutely hated you, said he would disown me if I stayed with you, and yet here we are: married with two wonderful children."
He was silent as he carefully considered Francoise's words, turning them over in his mind. "Your father really hated me that much?"
"Well he did threaten to kill you."
"I thought he was joking!"
"And when he tried to run you over with his car?"
"He said his breaks were faulty."
"Oh Arthur."
"Don't you 'oh Arthur' me!" He let out a weary groan as he began to rub at his forehead. A deep throbbing pain was building behind his eyes; one that he was certain wouldn't go away anytime soon. "So what are you saying: that I should go up there, take back everything I said, and beg for forgiveness?"
Francoise hummed in mock thoughtfulness as she began drumming her own polished fingers against the table top. "Non," she said at last. "Because anything you say right now will be completely irrational. You are too full of your overprotective 'papa wolf' hot air right at the moment. I think you should just take a moment to clear your head and try to see things from Maddie's point of view."
Arthur huffed, rolling his eyes at Francoise's "brilliant" advice. "Yes, because clearly it's very easy for me to think like a sixteen year old girl."
Francoise let out an overly dramatic sigh, brushing off an invisible speck from her blouse. "Silly man. Always so reluctant to admit when your gorgeous wife has a point." She smiled at him and gave his shoulder a pat. "Go for a walk. I'll start dinner."
-------------
"Look Daddy! I learned to tie my shoes at school today."
Arthur watched as Maddie sat down on the floor, grabbing each lace in her tiny fingers and carefully making little knots and loops all on her own. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he watched the girl's little brow furrow in deep concentration as she focused all her energy on the task.
"I can do that too!" Abby put in. Ever the competitive one, Abby wasted no time in undoing the already secure knot on her own sneaker before setting about recreating it. "I can tie mine faster," she boasted, although Arthur could already tell from the way her little digits fumbled to perform her task that she wasn't as skilled as Maddie just yet.
"Well done girls," he said when both had finished. "I'm very proud of you! But what do you say you let Daddy keep typing your shoes for a bit longer?"
The twins blinked up at him, confusion evident in their wide powder blue eyes. "Why?" Abby asked. "I like tying my shoes."
"Did we do something bad?" Maddie practically whispered the words, and suddenly Arthur felt like a bit of an ass.
"Well... no. Of course not, Maddie. It's just... well..." Arthur found his words coming to a stuttering halt as he struggled to think of something to say. Lifting his eyes, he caught Francoise's gaze from across the room. She pinned him with one of her knowing looks, one that said he'd put his foot in his mouth yet again, before turning back to the magazine that she had been reading. "Daddy just wants to make sure that your shoes are tied nice and tight so that he knows you won't trip and fall, but you two just keep practicing in the mean time."
"Okay," Maddie said quietly, satisfied with his answer.
"I'm gonna get really good and then I'll be able to tie my shoes with my eyes closed," Abby said, as she began untying her laces once more just so she could tie them again. "I bet I can tie a really tight knot, too."
"I'm sure you can," Arthur laughed, patting Maddie's head with one hand and stilling Abby's hands with the other, "but for now, why don't you two go get cleaned up and get ready for dinner?"
The girls gave out twin replies of "okay Daddy," before scampering off to do as they were told.
Once the two children were out of the room, Francoise let out a very loud and un-lady like snort. "That was very good Arthur," she said, sarcasm heavily coating her words. "I can't wait to hear what you think up when they're ready to take the training wheels off of their bikes."
"Oh stuff it," Arthur huffed. "If you're trying to imply-"
"I don't have to imply anything," she cut in. "You make it all very clear without any help from me."
Arthur didn't even bother to respond to Francoise's accusation. He knew good and well that there was nothing wrong with his behavior. He was a loving, attentive father who only wanted what's best for his girls. There was nothing wrong with that. Nothing at all.
----------
Arthur had circled the block three times when he finally came to the realization that Francoise may have been right (although he wouldn't admit it to her face) about his behavior earlier. He didn't know whether it was the fresh air or the walk itself that had helped to clear his head, but by the time the sun had begun to sink into the horizon he was starting to think that he may have been out of line in grounding the girls. They were good children at heart, after all, and Maddie had never disobeyed him before so it wouldn't hurt to show a bit of leniency just this once.
As he rounded the corner, heading back home, Arthur briefly considered dropping by the store and picking up a box of sweets or a pint of ice cream to try and regain favor with his girls, but thought better of it. Such cheap tricks didn't work on them as well as they had in years past. It had been so easy to earn their forgiveness back then. Whenever he had slipped up and made a mistake or missed out on an important event all he ever had to do was buy one of the girls a new doll or a dress and give their cheeks a quick pinch or their hair a fond tug. Their eyes would light up and their arms would wrap around his neck and suddenly he was the greatest daddy in the world again and everything else was forgotten.
With a longing sigh he shook those thoughts out of his mind. He had been living in the past for far too long.
It was nearly six by the time he had finally gotten back home and he could tell from the rich aroma hanging in the air that Francoise was nearly done with dinner. Arthur ignored her for now (she could get her shots in later) deciding instead to head straight upstairs and seek out the girls. He chose to go to Maddie's room first, figuring that he had more to make up for with her.
His gentle raps against the wooden door were met with a loud scoff and Abby grumbling "It must be the fuehrer."
Arthur rolled his eyes at her comment. He should have known that he'd find the two girls together. When one was upset, the other was likely to be close by, and considering that both were obviously still irritated with him...
"I heard that Abigail," he said sternly. "Now open this door. I want to talk to the two of you."
There were no sarcastic comments this time, only the sound of a bed creaking and footsteps followed by the door swinging open. He was instantly greeted by Abby's perturbed face and ridged posture, a clear indication that the girl was not in a very forgiving mood, while Maddie sat on the bed with Kumarie held tightly against her chest as she quickly wiped away (he assumed) the tear tracks that had marked her pale cheeks. It seemed that he had more work cut out for him than he'd originally thought.
"I know you girls are still mad at me," he began wearily, "but I still want to talk."
Sitting down on the soft pink comforter that decorated Maddie's bed, he patted either side of the mattress, signaling the two girls to take a seat. After a moment's hesitation, the two complied, Maddie coming to sit on his right and Abby on his left. Arthur wrapped an arm around their shoulders, drawing them closer and causing the two to stiffen at his touch. He tried not to let it bother him, reminding himself that he deserved it... somewhat.
"I'm sorry about this afternoon," he began sincerely. "I suppose I overreacted a bit-"
"A bit?" Abby snipped.
"-but you have to understand," he went on, ignoring Abby and the bitterness still lingering in her voice, "all this is a bit hard for me. After all, when I look at you two, I still see those little pink babies we brought home from the hospital."
"But we're not babies Daddy," Abby pointed out. "And you can't keep treating us like we are."
"I know," he sighed. He could feel the two relaxing in his embrace, just a bit, from that one admission. "I know. And I also know that I have to start allowing myself to trust you and your judgment. You are smart girls and your mother and I have raised you well. So, I suppose what I'm trying to say is, you're not grounded."
"Does this mean you're going to give Gilbert a chance?" Maddie asked hopefully.
Arthur stiffened at her words. He should have expected that question, but he had been praying that all thoughts of Beilschmidt had left her head. As it stood, he found himself at a loss. In his mind, no man was good enough for his little Madeleine and what he'd heard of this young man did not seem at all promising. "Well, I don't..." he began.
"Please Daddy, won't you consider at least talking to him?" Maddie pleaded. Her wide eyes were so full of hope and longing that it was near impossible to resist. "He's a really nice guy. I know you'll like him."
"Yeah Dad, Gilbert's pretty awesome," Abby added helpfully. "Besides, do you really think you can keep me and Maddie from dating until we're out of college? We're total hotties! Guys are always gonna be drooling over us."
He didn't bother to hide the shudder or groan that escaped him from Abby's careless words. Not for the first time he cursed the fact that his girls had inherited their mother's looks (damn that sexy French bitch!) as he reminded himself that keeping them locked away in their rooms until they were thirty was not a practical option. "Alright, how about we make a new rule?" he suggested. "Any potential boyfriend has to come over for dinner first and get my approval. You two are respectable young women after all."
"So Gilbert can come over?" Maddie breathed, excitement bubbling inside her.
"Yes, invite him over for Sunday dinner," he relented. "Just promise me you'll return those panties and never buy another thong ever again."
"Oh Daddy!" Maddie gushed, wrapping her arms tight around his middle. "I love you!"
"You rock Dad!" Abby agreed, hugging him with equal enthusiasm.
Arthur sighed, returning their hug. He knew that he had lost this battle, but at least his girls still loved him.
-----------
The calming stillness of night could not come soon enough for Arthur. The events of the day had left him so hopelessly worn that he barely had the strength in him to make it underneath the covers, choosing instead to just lie back on the silk comforter and stare blankly up at the ceiling. Francoise passed his prone form several times as she went about her nightly routine (applying a seemingly endless series of creams and lotions and oils and whatever else she did to make herself stay soft and glamorous) before settling in on the bed next to him.
"So we're having young Mr. Beilschmidt for dinner Sunday?" she asked teasingly, propping herself up on one elbow, head rested in her delicate hand. "My! What a spectacle that will turn out to be. Any tricks planned for the occasion?"
"Just one," Arthur grumbled darkly. "Here's what I have in store: you're going to make something French and decadent and once he's bloated and drunk on food, I'm going to sneak outside and cut the break lines on his car."
"I do believe he owns a motorcycle."*
Anger bubbled deep within his stomach, driving off the sleepy haze that had slowly been creeping over his mind. "That son of a bitch."
"Arthur! Don't be like that," she chided. "You're starting to sound like my father." For some strange reason she choose that moment to lean over and kiss him, soft and gentle, lingering in that way that allowed him to breath in all her wonderful, various scents and...
"Don't kiss me," he huffed, turning himself over so that his back was facing her. "This is all your fault!"
"Quoi?"
"You and your damn candles," Arthur said bitterly as he remembered a conversation from so many years ago. "Why did you have to make the girls so beautiful? I wish they were fat and homely so I'd be the only man to ever love them and they'd love me forever and ever because I'd kiss their cheeks and feed them sweeties whenever they wanted and GWAH!"
His admittedly mad rambling was rudely interrupted when Francoise grabbed one of the many useless pillows that adorned their bed and shoved it over his head, pressing down with nearly enough force to smoother him. Not that Arthur Kirkland would ever allow himself to be defeated by a Frenchy. He flailed his arms around for a few moments, before grabbing his deceptively petite wife by her waist and pushing her away from him.
"Stop it Francoise!" he barked once he had regained his breath. "I already told you I wasn't in the mood."
"Non, you stop it!" she snapped. "You're being a ridiculous old man."
"I'm not old."
"Oui, the girls have inherited my good looks and they are young and fresh faced and they will no doubt turn the heads of every straight man that crosses their path, but you are forgetting one very important thing." Arthur waited through his wife's dramatic pause, his ears perking up ever so slightly in anticipation of whatever it was that Francoise had to say. "They are smart and strong (very, very strong) and no man will ever take from them what they will not give willingly."
Arthur gave a soft sigh as he curled onto his side. He wished he could take comfort in Francoise's words, but it all rang hollow in his ears. "I suppose you're right," he muttered. "But you have to admit that life would have been a whole lot better if they were boys."
"Non, I do not agree."
Arthur frowned, turning over slightly. "Why not?"
"Because then I would have to lose sleep every night wondering whether or not they got some slut pregnant," she answered, her words quick and sharp. Clearly this was a thought that had crossed her mind before. "Now, let us talk of this no further. I am going to get naked and you will have exactly thirty seconds from the time my panties hit the floor to start fucking me long and hard or I will be forced to cheat on you with that Scottish brother of yours."
It was less than one second after that sentence was finished that Arthur pounced on his wife, intent on making sure that all his troubling thoughts were pushed far away for another day.
-
*The one man motorcycle gang is forming.