Tu Es Ma Lumière

102 - Drunkenness *Modern*

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Prompt - Bash and Francis getting drunk and Mary is one hundred percent done with the two man babies she's stuck with

Side Note - Same AU as part 69!

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"Give it here!" is what greets the young doctor as she returns from a killer long shift. Mary's barely out of the elevator before the cry of her boyfriend and the irritated yells of his half brother echo down the hallway. She cringes in preparation of the massive fight she's going to have to referee as always, walking over towards the front door, absentmindedly thumbing through the letters that are held in her left hand as she juggles her keys and her water bottle in the other. As she gets closer, the furiocity of their squabble is evident as echoes of upturning furniture and tipping tupperware echo from their three bedroom penthouse in eastern Edinburgh.

Mary pushes the keys into the keyhole and turns them around, hearing the satisfying jangle from the silver keys and the various little key rings Francis decided to push onto her set of keys the night before. She shoulders open the door, shuddering at the sight of her pretty house that looked like it was ransacked by two heathens. In ways, it was.

She groaned loudly, somehow being unnoticed by the two mostly grown men in the conjoined living room-morning breakfast station area. (Psssht. Men, she thinks, rolling her eyes. One's a half grown golden boy puppy dog and the other, well, she doesn't really know what Bash is. Nobody does, not even Kenna.) The white three piece suite is pushed into an off triangle-come shape, all the books in the bookshelf around the floor. The pictures are crooked on the walls, the large TV thankfully in tact, although the remotes are strewn on top of the freaking screen. All her little flowers in cute little mason jars are astrew. Some even in the boys' hair, she acknowledges, rolling her eyes. Francis wears a peony-rose flower crown, whilst Bash has them sticking out everywhere, looking like an autumnal back to the future style doc brown. Her pretty, overstuffed armchair is overturned, and the glass dining room table thankfully stands on its four legs. Not so thankfully is the fact that two of the chairs are missing and the other two don't fair much better. One stands on the freaking table, the other on it's side, under it. She pouts massively, seeing her pretty little breakfast area in complete dissaray. Her cups and mugs and plates are decorating the floor and the counter tops. All the drawers and the cupboards are open wide. She wouldn't be surprised if inside the drawers, all of her organisation is in shreds. Again.

She scans the fridge, it seems to be in tact, at least standing tall, until she looks at the top and-. How the fuck do two men manage to get a small table onto the top of a freaking fridge? And, is that Bash's laptop on top of it?!

"Look at my house!" Mary wines loudly, letting the door slam closed. That breaks the two half brothers up. They look at her with wide eyes. Oh yeah. They were rolling around on the floor, trying to get a bottle from the other person.

"Mary!" Sebastian yelps joyfully, straddling his brothers' hips, stopping his desperate attempts to get the bottle of golden-brown liquid from Francis' hands. The ravenette cocks an eyebrow at them both. She wanted to nap, but didn't want to see the state of her house if the living room-food area is anything to go by.

Why, why, why did she think that letting her boyfriend move into her house with his half brother was a good idea? What had possessed her in that moment when Francis asked her if Bash could move with him? When would that have ever ever been a good idea? Well, in her defence, she did know that Sebastian was an eccentric individual, if the stories Kenna had told her were anything to go by, and she already knew him before that, too. But they were fresh out of college and were temporarily homeless. Apparently, going back to Catherine and Henry's Valois estate was not an option (after meeting them after a six year absence, Mary did understand why) and with Francis and Mary's relationship never being stronger, already going into it's sixth year at that point, she was making waves in the medical industry and had a shockingly large income -having graduated extremely early and whatnot- with two spare bedrooms, it did make sense to move them in. Mary had never imagined that her boyfriend and his older brother -who, for the record, were both legal adults at twenty three- would be so tyrannical over her pretty home.

Which, ultimately, had been her downfall. And that of her home.

Francis gasps from his place upon the floor -obviously dead to the world, having drowned himself in alcohol along with his brother- roughly shoving his brother from his body. Sebastian curses and yells -the neighbours have hated her since Francis and Bash moved in- until he's literally pacified by the bottle. No, literally, he sits there and sucks the booze down as if he's a baby sucking on a bottle of milk.

Francis scrambles to his feet, a beam upon his pretty face. Mary works hard to repress one of her own, since her heart is playing a game of how fast can I beat without bursting into fireworks?

"Pretty!" he squeals -squeals!- rushing over towards his pretty girlfriend. "Hey, pretty girl-" by God, the man (puppy, Mary, puppy) puts on a deeper voice and leans against the door frame, looking at his own girlfriend, trying to flirt with her. "you single?" he asks. Half of Mary wants to burst into laughter at the ridiculousness of the situation, but the other half is really, really annoyed over the state of her house and the need for a bath, a nap and a sandwich or two.

Ultimately, the latter wins out.

She huffs, kicking off the door to walk away from the two of them. "No, Francis." she rolls her eyes. Mary goes to walk away, but the whimper he lets out makes her spin around.

By God and all of his angels, Francis started crying! Crying! Because his own girlfriend told him she wasn't single!

"Oh, no!" Bash cries from the living room -bombsite. Absolutely bombsite.- "What's wrong, baby brother?!" he asks, running from the room to the doorway, wrapping his little brother in a big bear hug as the younger of the two continues to cry. 

The door to the bathroom closes before Mary can hear the response.

Deep breaths, Mary, deep breaths.

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"Uh-" Francis pokes his head into the master bedroom where both Sterling and Mary have just woken up the next morning. She cocks a brow at her boyfriend who sheepishly -almost childlike- pokes his head into the doorway. "morning." he smiles. Mary chuckles, he looks like hell. He and his brother just drunk the place dry of all the alcohol the day before.

"Feelin' rough?" she drawls, looking over at him, stroking her dogs' head. 

"Yeah-" he mumbles, looking down. "Uh, about what I said-" he trailed. "Uh-" he stutters. Mary laughs.

"You're a cute drunk. Emotional, but cute." she states. He blushes -blushes!- before shuffling inside the room.

"Uh-" he begins. "I got you this." Francis states, passing her her reusable coffee cup with one of her metal straws. It's an iced coffee from one of their favourite little indie cafes because Mary Stuart is no Starbucks hipster, thank you very much.

"Thanks." she says softly, biting her cheek as their fingers brushed and hers came away all tingly. The ravenette wraps her lips around  the cold coffee and begins to drunk. 

"Bash-bash'n I are cleanin' up the messes we made, if it makes it better." Francis shyly, almost self consciously, scratches the back of his neck.

"You made the bombsite, you clean it up." she reminds him. He nods quickly.

"Yeah." he says. "Uh, did I say something last night?"

"Say what?"

"Anything all lovey dovey and that?" he asks nervously.

"No." she says. He visibly relaxes, a woosh of air leaving his lips. "But-" he perks like a meercat. "you asked if I was single. I told you no. And you started crying." she giggled.

Francis fell face first onto the bed with a loud groan. Mary laughed harder.