*

"Ye've got a face lit a melted welly." Hervé greets me as I walk purposefully into his study (you look fucking miserable)

He had what seemed to be all the rainbow's hues on his table, picking out colours and such for the nursery still.

"Would it kill you to not be an absolute lavvy-heided wankstain for the next..." I check my watch, fixing the architectural plans in my hands (toilet-headed cumsplat)

"Five to eight hours?" I add, not my most polite of moments, unfortunately

"Are we to plan a wedding then?" He wonders brightly

I could wish it!

"She doesn't want to get married. Married women die faster than single men, married men and single women, in that order, therefore there must be something about marriage that's killing women and until that changes, she's happy just to stay alive." I recite petulantly, unable to argue with statistics

"And I want her alive... so until I figure out a way to marry her and not endanger her life, I have to respect that." I state, still coming to terms with the gargantuan task ahead of me

"So you asked her to marry you then?" Hervé pries, which is untrue.

"I sent her an article and asked her thoughts on it... She sent me three books and five essays on how marriage only benefits men and then we talked about it." I say as calmly as possible, all while picking the colour swatches from Hervé's desk and throwing them onto the floor

Seeing little progress in my efforts, I growl at the colour swatches, swiping them off his desk and spreading my architectural plans on there, securing them to the table with various objects.

"What's she gone and done now?" He brightly wonders, always ready to be entertained by my female-troubles

I never used to have female troubles!

I take in a sigh to calm myself.

"She's cheating on me." I reveal, my breath catching at the audacity of her with her beautiful cat-shaped eyes and her incredibly gorgeous face and her magnificently sharp wit...

"Funke?" He wonders, as if there would be another she we were deliberating on

"I'm planning her surprise farewell party for when she leaves my firm this week and she's trying to leave my side too!" I hiss, who else with breasts like God's fists...

"Funke...is cheating... on you?" There was something about his tone that made me out to be some crazy fuckin bampot for even considering (unhinged tit)

She obviously had some nasty impossible ideas about the end of our collaboration. Just because she won't be working for me at the week's end and Angus' project is launching next week doesn't mean the end of...everything else between US. I'd clearly neglected to tell her that!

"I saw it with my own eyes!" I hiss at him, perhaps something of a bampot in my delivery

He crosses his arms, apparently ready to defend her.

"Did she smile at a man she wasn't related to?" He chides, which is ridiculous and beside the point

I wasn't some possessive, weird territorial chit! I'd never been territorial a day in my life!

"She's been having the time of her life on her phone giggling and texting and mumbling to herself. I was tempted to snatch it from her!" I confess angrily

I was shaking with guilt and rage, my heart beating something fierce in my chest. I don't believe I've ever felt whatever this was!

"You read her text?" He wonders at me as if I didn't feel the worse for it

"I couldn't... but her phone, it kept chiming...suspiciously." I growl, focusing on straightening the architectural plans on his desk

"Suspiciously how?" Hervé cuts in as if a phone had never chimed suspiciously in his presence

"Suspiciously!" I hiss at him, mad that he'd interrupt me while I explained my pain to him

He doesn't seem satisfied with my use of the word but I continue anyway mentioning that a unlisted number had sent her a text.

"I decided to play "Pray you catch me" very loudly, to warn her off it." I point out, an emotion breaking my voice

I'd been absolutely speechless as she excused herself, apparently she had dinner plans she simply couldn't get out of. I'd sat there, her kiss on my lips like a fresh poison I'd willingly die from, whispering "what are you doing mo gràdh?" after her retreating form. What new hell...

"So we know that she's having dinner with someone else?" Hervé wonders dryly, as if anyone had asked for his humour in my time of crisis

"I tried to make her stay and then I tried to go with her and then I tried to make excuses for dropping by, offered to help cook and such... she said HE's cooking..." I exclaim, shaking quite a bit about it

The nerve of her! Leaving me to fend for myself while she's off giggling with some other paramour. I hope it's not Luna... The things I would do to prevent it from being that sodding thief! What kind of spell had she cast over my precious little baobhan sith? How had she gotten someone as brilliant and beautiful and kind and honest and hilarious as Funke to buy into the scam that was her largess? Hervé seems to think over my dilemma because apparently, a unknown depraved (wo)man plotting to suck the nectar from my girlfriend after cooking for her isn't enough proof that she's cheating!

"Was it... her maw?" He pries

"You'd wish it were ya mangled fud! I asked as many questions as I could, she kept to male pronouns, said he was cooking! We can text her maw and ask, yes?" I cry righteously at him (you misshapen vagina)

"You... you have her maw's number?"

Hervé was NOT getting the point of all this!

"For emergency." I state, straightening up so I can explain exactly how he ought to help me

"What kind of emergency would require you, whose never met her maw, to call her..." He starts to wonder

"It's called an emergency you twat! It just...emerges! Yer missing the point!" I say pointing at the architectural plans on the table and tapping them, rather passionately with my finger

"Just to be sure... you haven't texted Funke's mum to say you're in love with her daughter who you think is cheating on you, have you?" Hervé suggests

I...

I hadn't considered that, actually. Why hadn't I considered that? I'm tempted to reach for my phone right now...

"Because that would be a horrid idea and as far as I know you haven't told Funke in any language she speaks that you're in love with her?" Hervé supplies

I've told her! In my own way... I can't waste time explaining all the ways in which I'd told her. Anyone with half of a working eye could see I'm in love with that adorable radge baobhan sith!

"I'll send her a note at our fifty sixth anniversary that says I love you and the only reason I'm telling you now is because you can't physically run from me, hopefully." I promise him cattily

If only I'd been patient enough to wait for her to heal from Luna...

"You haven't told her you're not seeing anyone else either, for all she knows you're both seeing other people." He adds as if to defend her

How many other people was she seeing? I have to put a stop to this!

"How many other people...Shut yer puss, fannybaws!" I bang on the architectural plans on his table, bringing his attention to them (be quiet, vaginabollocks)

"I need your help." I sigh angrily

He concedes, finally. I wasn't about to lose Funke to some guy who could cook! I show him the building plans

"You're going to build a mote around her?" he teases as if I hadn't asked him to not be a wankstain! I glare at him before drawing a circle on our target.

"This is her apartment." I point at it, deciding to ignore his last statement for the sake of time and my sanity

He looks at me as if I was mad for having the plans to her building but it's not like that at all. I offered to look over her redecorating plans last year and I must've kept a copy of the building plans by mistake. I choose to ignore the judgment on his face as I explain that the apartment right under hers was for sale, and if we pressed the agent about it (I already had) we could get access to it under the guise of a showing. Once we got into the apartment under hers the fun would start. We'd have to crawl up to her balcony, wedge her full frame kitchen window open and sabotage her dinner with whoever this nectar sucking cook was!

"Wait... I haven't as much as scaled a tree in years..." Hervé points out as if I was asking him to paraglide off the tip of the gherkin

"Let's hope you survive it then. I'll pull you up in case of anything." I shrug tightly

"So the agent is just going to watch us leave out the window and into the apartment on top without saying anything?" He wonders, unconvinced

"No, we're going to excuse ourselves to think about the place and then when she's gone we go out the window up the balcony in the window." I draw the actions clearly on the plans with my finger

"So I can't stay in the apartment for sale?" He checks just to be sure of what our plans were

"I need you to distract Funke while I scare off whoever she's with." I state as firmly as possible

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

"Luc... I don't think this was your best idea." Hervé grumbles breathlessly as I pull him up and onto the balcony, his eyes shining with fear

He was being dramatic just because his lack of core strength had nearly plunged him to his death a few seconds ago.

"Hervé, I need you to be quiet." I breathlessly growl, pulling his heavy mass up towards the balcony with a heavy groan

We try to keep our groans and panting low as I finally shove him over my shoulder and watch him roll onto the balcony, knocking over a flower pot as he goes. I suppose we weren't naughty children any more, we were both discoloured, out of breath, frightful, shaking and the worse for our antics. I was dizzy from my efforts and I hope Funke wasn't fond of whichever plants we killed in our quest to get to her balcony garden.

"Let's never do that again." A sweaty Hervé shakily whispers to me, struggling to catch his breath

"Just never speak of this to anyone and we should be fine." I vow just as a unfamiliar "What the fuck?!" breaks into our shared panting

The estate agent had apparently found us. I hop onto my feet and rush for the window, pushing it wide open and summoning Hervé to jump into the kitchen. He chuckles breathlessly, rolling himself onto his fours and moving for the kitchen as I thank Funke silently for never fixing this window no matter how many times I ask her to.

I anxiously throw my heavy sweaty body into Funke's kitchen and shut the window behind me. We did it! We're regular James Bonds obviously! I turn my bright gaze to Hervé, who is absolutely red in exhilaration. The agent's screams were now muffled behind the window as Hervé falls to the floor in complete utter exhaustion. The excitement had been too much for the poor lad, barely holding the laughter in. My heart was in my ears.

The kitchen was filled with amazing scents, just as I suspected. I make to move away from the breakfast table, curious as to what love potions my competition was conjuring for this dinner. I don't feel some kind of picnic cloth cling to my espionage jacket, all I hear is the loud clamoring of kitchen utensils as they fall in a trail behind me. Shit!

Hervé perks up from his short-lived rest, looking about the kitchen attentively.

"What's our escape plan?" He wonders softly

Escape? Hadn't considered that bit unfortunately...

"Maybe we can knock him out when he comes looking." He offers as quietly as he can, picking up a lemon that's rolled to his side as his weapon of choice

Sure, just knock him over with a lemon and stuff him under the breakfast table, worked for David and Goliath!

I didn't even have time to explain to Hervé that that wasn't going to work when the door flew open with a loud bang, forcing me to grab the nearest weapon to me. Hervé thought fast, straightening to his full height and throwing the lemon at the tall male figure standing menacingly by the door. I was just about to charge towards him when he caught the lemon mid-air, growled and threw it right back at Hervé.

A loud violent thwack meant he hadn't missed. The ungodly sound that left Hervé's lips might be termed as a soul-scream. It definitely originated somewhere deeper than his body.

"Ya fucking walloper!!!" Hervé screeches, his voice ferociously contorted (you fucking dick!)

I grip my weapon, ready to pounce on the shrouded figure avenging my best friend, who was still making the most demonic noises.

"I'll avenge you Hervé, think nothing of it!" I vow in a whisper, waiting to see just how I should move to do so

"He caught me in my baws the radge wee shite!" Hervé hisses back (in my balls the crazy shit)

"Who the fuck are you?" a gravelly domineering voice booms at us

I'm not sure he's seen me, his question seems directed towards Hervé, perhaps I could avenge my fallen best friend after all!

"Get tae fuck, arsepeice!" Hervé sobs in his mangled breathless voice, (fuck off, you anus!)

"Who the fuck are you?!" I demand back, announcing that I was here, and he'd have to go through me to harm Hervé again

I fancied my odds of swinging off the chandelier and kicking him out of the kitchen! I'm about to move when a figure appears from behind him, switching the kitchen lights on.

My entire heart! It couldn't be fair! She was looking ravishing, absolutely gorgeous... a bit too gorgeous to be having dinner this close to a bed with someone... that wasn't me. Her first concern is Hervé, who was falling in slow motion on the floor, his gonads cuddled in his hand, his face discoloured from the brutal anguish he endures. I was experiencing a torturous anguish of my own. My gaze moves to the ridiculously beautiful man who was looking around the kitchen in mild amusement. I knew those gorgeous light brown eyes that penetrated whoever they were set on, that chiseled jawline, those perfect cheekbones, the hook earrings...

I was doomed! I couldn't compete with... THAT!

And he was a fucking descent guy too!

"Hervé?" He wonders in a luscious deep voice that I'm sure plenty of women are into...