1980, Stafford Terrace

"Oh, wait until daddy and Feebs sees how big you two have gotten... wait until he sees you both walking!" Monica tickled their bellies as she sat on the carpet, and they squealed as they rolled on the lounge floor laughing.

She smiled and stood back up, helping them onto their knees so that they wouldn't tumble over. She fixed the clasp of Johnny's teal dungarees and tightened the pink bow that tied Roshni's wisps of hair back from her face.

"Now, off you go and play." She pushed them towards their toys scattered on the corner of the carpet.

Then she made her way back into the kitchen and made sure to shut the childproof gate after her, laying the table for the two men who were on their way home from a month's work in Munich, and turned the oven onto a low temperature to gently heat up the casserole she left over for their dinner.

Meanwhile, somewhere along the motorway running through the busy city of London, Phoebe was driving Freddie back home from Heathrow in the new Mercedes he'd bought shortly after their first birthday; he felt that know he was internationally famous he needed something sophisticated yet less conspicuous than the Rolls, which he and Monica decided was best for entrances to events.

He flicked the finished cigarette butt out the window before winding it back up, then anxiously looked up into the overhead mirror and stoked his new moustache, "Do you think she will like it?"

"Well, if I may say so you look very handsome with it." Phoebe winked.

He smiled a little, "Do you think the public will be angered by the gay connotations?"

"If they refuse see your brilliant music past your moustache, then that's their loss." He replied, driving around a block corner.

"Well, screw them. I look perfect with it." He spat.

Phoebe chuckled, "Everyone's going to think you copied it from me now."

Freddie scoffed, "You really believe that I see you as that much of a trend setter?"

"I'm Freddie Mercury's PA, everyone wants to be me." He bragged sarcastically.

He laughed, then looked out the window as a council sign for the borough of South Kensington flashed past under the street lights, "We're home... Oh Phoebe I'm so excited to see if my little ones have grown the past few weeks."

Phoebe remained tight lipped, for Monica had told him privately over the phone that they were now toddling around the place and Freddie was in for a surprise.

"She isn't the only one" Phoebe thought, and soon he was passing the streets they recognised.

***

Phoebe unlocked the front door, carrying their baggage into the hallway.

Monica felt the skin stand up on the back of her neck when she heard the front door open, but she continued slicing the loaf of bread and putting it into the basket.

"Daddy's home, you two!" She called out, and they scrambled up onto the sofa, hiding under the blanket that happened to be sitting there.

Freddie walked in through the door and smiled when he saw the girl he loved standing with her back to him, working on something on the kitchen counter. He heard giggling coming from the lounge.

"Daddy's back!" He boomed, rushing in, then he saw two lumps underneath the blanket.

Monica heard his footsteps in he other room and giggled, listening as he quietly snuck up to the sofa. He lightly tickled the bottom of a foot of theirs that happened to be peeping out, and one of them let out an infectious squeal.

"Oh, let me see you both!" He cooed, whipping the blanket off.

It only took them a second to scream and scramble off the sofa, away from the strange man with short hair and moustache. Monica stopped what she was doing and rushed into the room when she heard their wails of fright.

Freddie watched in shock, his face falling as they hid behind Monica's legs, who was also now looking back at him in disbelief. He was disappointed by her facial expression, and this was not how he hoped to see them walking for the first time either.

"What's wrong? It's daddy!" She picked them up, pretending to be unswayed by the new feature he donned on his face.

They shook their heads as they started crying, wondering what happened to daddy.

Phoebe rushed in, "Well, his hair is shorter and-"

"Over a fucking moustache! I can't bloody do anything right, can I?!" The man stormed into the door leading to the kitchen.

"Freddie, they just didn't recognise you!" Monica followed him in.

He sighed, opening the fridge, "Well this is the last welcome home I expected. Aren't you going to ask how our post production in Munich was?!"

"They need to get used to the new you... we all do!" She pleaded.

"All of you... and I thought out of all of you, you'd be the first one to understand and appreciate why I got this moustache, Monica." he looked away, and grabbed a bottle of lager from the top shelf.

"Uhh, those are mine." Phoebe intervened bashfully as he slammed the fridge door.

"They make you fat anyway." Freddie wanted to say as he furiously pulled the tab open.

"Beer? Since when did you casually start drinking beer?" Monica set the distraught infants into their playpen. "What ever happened to your usual glass of wine, or vodka-"

"Can you just spare me the interrogation and leave me drink this in peace?" He snapped, slumping down onto a chair.

"Well, okay then." Taken aback, she looked away, straightened up and then swiftly exited the room.

He leapt back up, "Wait, where are you-"

"Sparing you 'the interrogation' and leaving you drink in peace, as you wish!" She threw her hands up and called back, disappearing around the corner.

"I'm- I'll just going to bring your bags upstairs." Phoebe lied and rushed out after her.

Freddie sighed, took a gulp and looked over at his two small children in their pen, beginning to calm down and study him more.

"Monica." Phoebe rushed up the stairs after her.

She turned to face him, "Was he that difficult with you as well?"

"No no, well-listen. I'm sorry, I've been meaning to ask how things are." He pulled her into a hug.

"Oh Phoebe... Feebs, we all missed you as well. It's good to see you again, really." She hugged him back, voice breaking as she felt tears.

"He's being defensive because there's another development he fears you won't like." Phoebe whispered when they pulled apart.

"What? Oh god, he hasn't gotten a piercing in a naughty place, has he?!" She put her head in her hands.

"No, no! Well, not that I know of!" He giggled slightly. "It's-It's more of an unpleasant, unhealthy habit."

"Come again?" She looked back in confusion, tears held back.

Phoebe made an 'o' shape with his lips and brought his two fingers up as if he was holding something in between them then took them away again and blew, then she got the picture.

"For fuck sake, Fred." She hissed, leaning into the bannister. "Smoking?! Whatever happened to keeping his voice pure?"

"He said it's because he wants to be more manly."

"Manly?! So many people love him the way he is!"

"Trust me, Monica. His effeminate side is still there. He can get into Top Gear and football like any other bloke and he will still be the Fred we know, not like that will happen but-"

He stopped talking when he heard faint singing downstairs, and the twin's crying had stopped.

"Thanks Phoebe," She murmured sincerely. "I suppose I should give him a chance. You know, once upon a time he had his way with me on this very staircase... and it was a rather manly moment indeed."

"He did?" Phoebe blushed and giggled.

"Yes, and the only reason I remember it today is because I met his parents later that day too while we were both trying to shower Goliath. Quite the contrast, don't you think?" A cheeky smile played on her lips.

"A true romantic then," He laughed, and held his hand out. "Now lets see what your manly man is up to."

She smiled a bit, "Oh alright."

They went down the steps and back into the living area, only to find Freddie, the twins, and his beloved cats all gathered on the sofa, holding them close.

"Oh, daddy missed you... Daddy missed you both." He spoke lovingly into his babies' heads, oblivious to Phoebe and Monica watching him silently.

They lay still and silent on his chest as his hands soothingly rubbed their backs, the felines curled up next to him purring in content.

"The twins missed Feebs," Monica smiled and pushed the man forward gently. "Go on and say hello to them."

Phoebe smiled back shyly, before joining them and their father on the sofa, "Budge up and give good old Phoebe a kiss!"

"Feebs!" They squealed, clumsily crawling onto his lap as the startled cats lifted their heads.

Monica leaned at the doorway and smiled, watching as he laughed and embraced them.

Freddie lifted his head from the scene, his eyes meeting the girl. But her face fell.

"Your dinner is in the oven keeping warm." She excused herself, and much to his dismay she quickly exited the room and back into the kitchen.

***

Freddie glanced into their dark nursery to check that both were asleep. He didn't want to go in and wake them since they were put to bed not half an hour before. Then he switched the landing light off and quietly tiptoed into the master bedroom where Monica was climbing under the duvet. They hadn't talked all evening since the argument they had in the kitchen, keeping their distance from one another.

Not the romantic evening upon his return that he intended to have either.

He brushed his teeth in the bathroom, glancing at his unpacked wash bag.

"If she still doesn't like it by tomorrow morning, I'm shaving it... and I'm only doing it for her." He thought, the spat out and rinsed.

He walked back in and sat on his side of the bed, and started to undress.

"How is-How's the house coming along?" He asked, pulling his socks off.

"Not too bad. The workmen going start on the garden path. The walls are papered and painted by the decorators, floors carpeted, as you wished. Mary says that the tiles have yet to arrive from Italy, so we're waiting on the kitchen and bathrooms." She explained flatly.

"Ahh, good good. I uhh, I must drop by then and see." He was disappointed in her lack of enthusiasm.

She nodded, and set her head back down on her pillow.

Freddie pulled his shirt off, then awkwardly slipped himself under the duvet and curled up, still staying away and waiting for her to switch the lamp off. But she was leaving it on and obviously it meant he was in for a talk.

"How long?" She suddenly asked.

"Pardon? How long what?"

"How long have you been smoking?"

"How did you know I-Oh... Phoebe told you, didn't he? I knew the lying bugger wasn't putting our bags away."

"Don't blame Phoebe, just talk to me." She pleaded, this time more softly.

"Well, the boys and I were down in our hotel lobby and I asked Roger to let me try one and... well, now I'm hooked." He confessed.

"I can see that... Roger must've been rather surprised by that request." She kept her sentence short and prim.

"Did you ever do it... smoke, I mean?" He tried to make more conversation.

She took a long sigh, then spoke, "Well, remember that girl Paula, my old school friend back in Belfast? She was that girl with me the night we met in that club. Some days after school we used to hide underneath the bramble bush at the bottom of the garden at my house," she murmured. "I never got hooked, nor did I see the point in it. I just did it because everyone else did, to be social."

"So... you're a social smoker?" He hesitated.

"I suppose."

They stayed silent for a moment, waiting for an opportunity to make amends in their own way.

"The moustache... you look dashing with it, I must say," She continued quietly. "... I mean, not that you haven't always before, but-"

"I'm sorry." He gently interrupted her as he felt his heart melting.

She lifted her head slightly, "What?"

"You spent time preparing for my return... god, you were all excited," he sat up and sighed, arms crossed and leaning on his knees. "Then out of my own selfishness I had to disappoint you."

She rolled over to face him, "It was rather cute and funny, the fact that they didn't recognise you."

"Yes, it was a bit," He giggled. "Want to know how I won them over?"

She smiled and nodded.

"I had to sing softly to them until they stopped whimpering."

"What did you choose sing?" She propped herself up on one elbow.

"I just thought of the first lullaby on top of my head... Over the rainbow," He shrugged. "Then they recognised their old man."

"Must've been so lovely." She whispered.

"It was." He smiled to himself, then settled back down under the covers.

She reached over and switched the lamp off before shuffling into his open arms.

She laid her head on his chest, and his hands found and kept her close. His aroma had much more of a smokey, spicy tobacco warmth to it, but she told herself it was something she could get used to. He was relieved he was forgiven and missed such moments very much, but something he was longing for was missing; a kiss.

"It'll probably feel strange now, am I right?" He finally asked her.

"What feels strange?" She spoke into his warm skin.

"Kissing me." He purred, and then she knew what he was insinuating.

"Lets put it to the test then." She sat up, cupped his face in her hands and pressed her lips against his.

His eyes fluttered closed in bliss as he kissed back, his hands slipping to her waist.

"Well?" He whispered when they broke.

"It tastes a bit strange because of the tobacco... not in an unpleasant way though, and the moustache doesn't tickle as much as I thought it would." She rubbed his cheek.

Freddie giggled, "Well, I guess that's something."

"But one thing hasn't changed. Your lips are as soft as ever." Her fingertips grazed his mouth, and he held them in his hand and tenderly started kissing them one by one.

Monica felt the air she breathed became thicker, and his dark eyes shot her a lustful glance in the dim light of the bedroom.

They kissed again, scrambling onto their knees as their arms found their rapidly heating up bodies in the dark.

She slipped her hand down his hairy chest, his torso, under his pants...

"Fuck, babe..." he sensually dug his teeth into her neck as she felt his thickness throbbing in her palm, and her fingers wrapped around it.

His large hands reached around her bra clasp, undoing it as her fingers stroked him up and down.

She moaned into his shoulder as he slipped his thumbs under her panties and rolled them down her thighs. He pushed the duvet back and laid her down on the mattress, sliding them down her legs as she pushed his boxers off and watched him looming above her.

"Freddie!" She gasped as he kissed her chest, slipping her bra off her arm and fondling her breasts.

"Two babies... and mmmm... you still don't think you look good naked, dear?" He reached back up and slid his tongue back into her mouth.

Before she could protest she felt his hands hold her arms back by her sides as his burning lips moved lower down her bare, writhing body.

He parted her knees and rubbed her inner thighs, licking his lips at her. She looked back at his beautiful naked body and erection with anticipating blue eyes, now aching for his hunger.

He leaned down and started kissing, and she gasped with each gentle lick he delivered, reaching down and clenching onto his jet black hair as he looked back menacingly.

"Baby... baby yes..." she grasped the bedsheets.

It certainly felt a little different and more pleasurable to her than what it did before, now that he had a moustache. He could taste her getting wetter and wetter on his lips, his tongue savouring her warmth and sweetness.

"I'm ready... I want you now..." her voice quivered.

He shuffled back up, not taking his eyes off her once as he crouched above her again.

She wrapped her legs around him, kissing him back as he aimed himself, and he pushed inside her.

She moaned as he started pumping his hips back and forth slowly, his hot breaths in her ear.

"Fuck... oh god..." he growled into her mouth, speeding up his thrusts a little.

"Harder..." she breathed, her nails dragging down his muscular back.

He pounded into her, her sweet groans only becoming louder and louder.

He suddenly rolled onto his back, pulling her with him and gripped her waist as she slid back onto him.

"Yes, babe...take me there..." he moaned, hands roving over the breasts of the beautiful woman on top of him as his hips bucked up harder.

She leaned down and kissed him as she bounced faster on him.

"Fuck... I'm-I can't hold back any longer..." he hissed under his breath.

She threw her head back as he released a loud contented grunt, then slipped off as he came on his stomach.

She fell onto the mattress, heart thumping as they were left gasping for air.

She lay there weakly as a pair of strong arms pulled her against his warm body and soft skin.

"...I-I missed you... my goddess." He finally caught his breath.

She looked back into his beautiful brown eyes, and told him earnestly, "Oh I really missed you too."

He smiled, and then leaned down to kiss her lips once more before pulling her with him and fixing the duvet back around them, relieved that the tension was behind them.

"So tell me, do you miss anything about the old me?" He whispered.

"Just your longer hair..." She spoke into his chest, and he grinned before reaching down to grab her bottom, "Ooh! Hey!"

The man chuckled, "And why is that?"

"Because it was nice and soft to touch... but now with shorter hair you can show off your broad shoulder and neck muscles. The boys and girls in the audience are going to go wild." She played with his hand.

"I'm probably gaining a bit of flab and meat-"

"Oh don't be silly, your body is more than fine." She closed her eyes.

"...You're just saying that." He muttered.

"I'm not!"

"Well, the critics and the press will be on a field day." He sighed.

"For goodness sake, what do the press know?" She lifted her head. "Ignorant fuckers, they hate us because they ain't us."

He giggled, "Oh, why must you make everything better again?"

"Because it's my job." She declared.

"Well, that's settled then." He planted a kiss on her head.

"I love you..." she trailed off, before yawning.

He pulled her in closer, "I love you too."

Then, they heard the door creak open, a bit of light spilled into the room, and Monica looked over her shoulder to see an array of shadows of cat tails sticking up in the air.

He giggled as his beloved felines jumped upon their large bed and nestled close to them on the duvet.

That's how they both knew it was going to be a good slumber.