Neverland Ranch, Los Angeles

"And I thought that I was normally the late one." Freddie murmured under his breath, flickering through his lyric notebook as he sat slumped at the mixing desk.

Michael was barely in the studio door when his personal assistant interrupted, "Mr Jackson, phone for you."

"I'm sorry, Freddie" he heard the singer's soft voice squeak behind him, and disappeared again.

Freddie muttered, dishing out some cash to Phoebe, "Get me another 20 pack, this is going to take a while."

"Alright, I'll be half an hour or so."

He waved him away, "Go go go.... I'll figure out what work Mike and I have to do."

Phoebe nodded, and obediently left the room.

"Hey, my manager just called. I'm meeting a journalist from NME here in five minutes," Michael reappeared at the doorway and looked at the clock on the wall. "I hope you don't mind me leaving you with Louie, only he hates the wind."

"Oh yeah, go ahead. Work away." Freddie put a cigarette between his teeth.

"Louie... I've completely forgotten who Louie is... the boy has too many bloody animals..." he thought as he sparked his lighter.

He heard Michael's footsteps fade down the corridor and not return until a minute later when in walked a stalky, furry llama on a reigns lead by his owner.

"Gotta dash!" The young man disappeared as his assistant ushered him out, leaving the large white animal standing and blocking the doorway.

Freddie was now sitting upright and jaw dropped, staring back at the beady black eyes hiding behind the long, thick lashes.

"He bloody stinks, I can smell him a mile away... doesn't it concern Michael in the slightest that the beast can leave a lovely large pat on the godforsaken carpet at any second?"

He looked around anxiously for an escape. Phoebe was out running an errand for him, and the technician wasn't there yet.

He slowly made his way to the nearest telephone, the only port of communication at that moment, wide eyes not leaving the animal as he crept across the room.

He quickly picked the receiver up as he had panicked thoughts, "Who do I call first... Monica... or Jim [Beach]-Oh hell, its nighttime in London, but I can't work in a petting zoo with this man anymore!"

He frantically dialled in the house number.

Garden Lodge

Monica sighed in relief as she folded the last piece of clean laundry onto the pile sitting atop the washing machine, mainly consisting of the twin's baby clothes.

She looked at copies of her CV sitting atop the kitchen table as she carried the laundry past in a basket under her arm.

Just another reminder that she really needed to find work, and to try to see if Christina would be willing to take her back again.

She quietly pushed the nursery door open and snuck in, setting the basket down beside the chest of drawers to unpack in the morning.

The landing phone started to ring, so she leaned down and quickly kissed their heads in the dark before the exited the room; at night, she never went out the door without doing so sentimentally.

She picked up the ringing telephone, "Hello?"

"MONICAAAAA!!"

The next evening

"What I don't understand is why you quit over a bloody llama!" Monica grabbed the twins' sippie cups from the overhead kitchen cupboard, forcefully shutting the cabinet door.

"What kind of man brings his bloody... spitting and shitting machine to work?!" Freddie flew his arms about as he stood at the breakfast bar. "Michael just left him there and the creature was just... staring at me!"

"Knowing you, you'd bring your cats to work if you could." She turned the heat off on the stove and carried the wok over to a heat stand.

"...He made me trudge through the animal's shit too, Monica," he finally said. "He's one of the most unusual stars I have ever had the misfortune of visiting."

"Well I'm sorry about the ordeal you have had at Neverland Ranch but I'm sure it's much more exciting than what goes on here every day." She drained the vegetables.

"Oh, you know that I'd spend every minute of every day with them if I could... " he looked out the back open window as they rushed past squealing, doing another lap around the lodge. "I suppose this is the life I have chosen."

She pulled out a serving plate, "You missed them when you were in LA, didn't you?"

"I missed you all... the cab I was in drove past the hotel we were staying in along sunset boulevard at one point and... it was the same one where I told you that I bought the place." he trailed off, looking at his feet.

She set her utensils on in the marble island, "You remember that?"

"Of course I do, it's my family."

"I'm surprised... I mean, you just have a very hectic schedule. Late last night you touched down at Heathrow and then this morning you had a 6am start. I'm surprised you remember such a thing." She got plates out.

"My god, your memory is bad... it was 7 am!"

"Well, alright, it's just the Brannigan fuse. It's far too short. You don't have to fact-check me every time."

"Brannigan fuse, blaming it on your family. Love it" He reached into his pocket for his 20 pack and lighter.

"Don't smoke now, it's dinner. Can you please go get them?"

He looked out again anxiously as he stuffed them back into his pocket, looking over the brick wall and to the sky, "Good timing, it's getting dark... and I don't like the look of that cloud above us."

"Inside, now!" She ordered.

"Alright..." he huffed, jet lagged, and rushed out, heading to the front door.

Phoebe squeezed past him in he doorway, "What's on the menu tonight?"

"Salt and chilli beef... just a Delia Smith recipe from a magazine clipping. Thought I'd give it a go." She put a serving spoon into the wok.

"Oh, I like the sound of that." He rubbed his hands together.

"Dinnertime, you two!" Freddie called on the doorstep, shivering slightly as the wind picked up.

Roshni scrambled out of the smoby play car on the lawn and quickly toddled over as he scanned around for Johnny.

"That's funny, I thought that they were both out here." Freddie thought, then headed back inside.

He thought that he could hear faint crying of a child, but it was probably someone street over the wall.

So he ignored it.

"Right, coat and shoes off!" Phoebe sat a restless Roshni down on the bottom step, removing her thick earmuffs.

Freddie slipped past them, "The other one has wandered off."

"Was he not outside?" His assistant lifted the infant up.

"No, the little bugger is probably hiding somewhere around the house again." He replied as he stomped up the stairs.

Phoebe carried her in and set her down in her high chair as Monica tied a bib around her neck, "Mummy's giving you something new, today."

She squealed and thumped her fists up and down on her little table excitedly as her mother brought her over a small bowl.

"Can you please fill her cup with milk? This is spicy and I need something to neutralise it." Monica asked, and Phoebe nodded.

"Noooo!" Roshni stretched away as far away from her dinner as she could in her high chair.

Her mother sighed, thinking about how her little girl was just as stubborn as her dad...

Although Freddie wasn't a self-proclaimed vegetarian who only ever wanted to eat chicken.

"But do you know what this is? It's special chicken! You love chicken!" Monica lied, lifting a piece of beef up with her plastic fork.

"Chikkin?" The girl was all ears as she sat back up straight eagerly.

"Yes, it's called... it's called brown chicken! It's just as yummy as white chicken."

"Brown chicken? Not a bad trick." Phoebe nodded approvingly as he came over with her sippie cup as Roshni happily chewed.

"It worked on my little brother Lenny when he wouldn't eat his steak on Easter Sunday." She murmured with a wink.

The man giggled as Freddie walked in, "I just dodged the rain shower. I can't bloody find him anywhere!"

"Was he not outside?" She set up Johnny's bowl.

"No. That's where I thought he last was, and I don't know where the hell he could've gone if the front gates are locked!" He leaned down to look under the counter.

"Well, he is definitely not in here. He could be hiding in one of the rooms." Phoebe pulled his chair out.

"Don't get frustrated, I'll go looking for him... make sure Roshni's bowl is empty and that there is no pea left." Monica propped her oven mittens on the back of her chair.

"But what about my tea?" Freddie threw his hands up in the air.

"Your plate is warming up in the oven with mine. I want everyone eating together first."

The man scoffed, and reluctantly he went over to Roshni's high chair as Phoebe rushed out after her. He wasn't keen on spoon-feeding them, for the last time he did it Johnny had fashioned a face mask out of carrot and parsnip mash.

"Salt and chilli beef? Yummy... yes," Freddie murmured as he lifted her little plastic fork. "You ready for the airplane?" He began feeding her a small mouthfuls as she willingly opened her mouth.

Monica grabbed her rain coat hanging in the hallway, "Check the Japan room first, he probably followed wanted to look at his shikami mask again."

"We won't tell Fred that he was in there again if he is, will we?" Phoebe whispered.

"Nah, we can do with another night of the man going ballistic over the curiosity of an infant." She buttoned up her rain coat and headed for the front door.

She pushed the door open against the gust of wind and the buckets of rain, leaving it slam behind her as she rushed down the stone path.

"Johnny?!" Her squinting eyes scanned panoramically around the front of the garden.

She rushed over to the large ornamental garden pots in the left hand corner of the wall, as he was small enough to be either hiding or hidden by them, but no sign.

She shielded her face against the torrent and looked around some more, and she could vaguely hear a little voice.

"Johnny!? M-Mummy's coming!" She tried to follow it.

The closer she got the more she could hear the distress in his voice.

It lead her to the right hand corner of the garden where Freddie's big, pitted hole was; it was only recently dug by a workman he'd hired and he wanted to make it into a pond.

She peered in, and there was her son lying face up in the bottom of the muddy hole, crying hysterically, his leg slightly twisted.

"F-Freddie?! ...FREDDIE,PHOEBE! HELP! GET HELP!!" Monica panicked, her eyes turning blurry and she slipped down through the mud and reached down to her injured son.

She ripped her jacket off and pulled Johnny onto her lap, and he let out a wail of anguish as he began to thrash about uncontrollably in pain.

She tried to hold him down as she coddled him inside her jacket, "FREDDIE!! PHOEBE!! GET ME HELP!!!" 

To be continued...