London, several weeks later...

Johnny Arman and Roshni Wendy Bulsara

Those were the names that the couple chose and wrote down on their birth certificates before Monica was discharged that sunny morning, going by what the couple thought suited them. They had spent a few weeks more in Montreux until the record was clean enough, and flew and settled back into London.

Monica intently looked at them both wrapped up in their Aunty Kash's wool blankets, sleeping peacefully in their cots beside the window in the nursery, which was rare but relieving. It was her turn to check on them, and so far she was getting used to their hectic sleeping schedule.

They were both beginning to look much more like a Bulsara-Brannigan, and much to Freddie's delight, they both came out as a mixture of them both. Johnny had his mother's hair and his dad's dark eyes. As for Roshni, she shared her dad's Raven locks and her mother's eyes.

She smiled and reached in to rub the wisps of hair on their heads, before planting a kiss on their chubby red cheeks. She swiftly slipped out of the room and shut the door, then rushed back to the master bedroom where Freddie was waiting in bed.

"Well, how are they?" He looked up at her as she stood at the doorway and crossed her arms.

"They're asleep." She whispered. "And angelic as ever."

Freddie grinned mischievously, "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

She nodded, then he giggled quietly as a playful smirk appeared on her lips and she rushed over and jumped onto the mattress.

He lifted the duvet back up for her to climb in, and she shuffled closer as his two hands grabbed her face and he kissed her lips.

"Oh fuck..." he kissed her neck hungrily, hand running through her hair. "Let's make it quick..."

She nodded, sitting up a little and straddling his hips. His large hands roamed up and down her curves, then his nimble fingers slipped under the hemline of her nightwear.

"You know, I really wish that you wouldn't wear such horrific, 'granny' nightgowns at your age," he pulled it over her head as she lifted her arms, and his hands squeezed her now-exposed breasts. "Two babies and you still have the perfect, nymph-like body for a little lacy number...oh! And a much larger rack!"

"Oh, hush!" She pushed his arms back against the pillows and kissed him. "It's perfectly appropriate!"

He was about to push her back up when the telephone rang, and let out a groan of irritation as the bedside telephone started to ring.

She sat back up as he answered it, "Hello?"

She looked at the awkward position she was in, but she didn't care. She was still aroused and she didn't want to waste any time, for the babies could wake up at any moment. His strong, veined arms sprawled out by his sides, his bare hairy chest, his messy jet black hair falling over his deep set brown eyes, unshaven face, pursed lips, soft and wet...

She pecked them before he started to kiss his neck. Confused, he held a moan in the back of his throat, "oh... ah Peter, hello!"

Her lips moved lower to his chest as he squirmed slightly. He put his free arm out to stop her, but she grabbed his wrist in time and held in down as she peppered the heating-up skin on his stomach with kisses.

"I... oh god, I would be more than-more than happy to have you today" he choked as Monica took it in her hand.

He looked at her in annoyance, but his head fell back and he rolled his eyes the moment he felt her tongue and lips on him, her free hand reaching up to rub his chest.

"Fuck, I'll call Mary, bring... bring along your documents... no, I'm a little distracted-okay yes, it's the babies..." he trailed off, Monica looking back up at him as she went up and down.

Once his taste started seeping out of his tip that's when she knew it was time to get off. She took her original spot, this time slipping onto him.

"Oh god... I-I am going to have to see you later... yeah, bye." He struggled as she slowly started to pump up and down, taking his free hand and kissing his fingers before placing it on her breast.

He barely threw the receiver back onto the cradle, licking his lips menacingly as he grabbed her waist.

"You naughty girl, distracting me while I'm on the phone," he growled, rolling her onto the mattress as she laughed. "Do you know what happens to girls who misbehave?"

"What?" She kissed him.

"They get their punishment." He rubbed her thighs, positioning himself.

He rammed back into her with great velocity before she could protest, thrusting back and forth rapidly.

"Oh... yes...you-you said you wanted to make it quick!" she let out, brows furrowing in pleasure.

He didn't answer, except move faster and faster until his body trembled as he let out a loud moan in her ear.

"You're not off the hook yet..." he immediately pulled out, showing no sign of exhaustion as he often did when he was finished.

"What?" She gasped as he pinned her arms above her head. The look in his eyes was scaring her.

"I... still need to... discipline you..." He kissed her collarbone, her breasts, her tummy...

"Oh god..." she threw her head back as his tongue slinked onto her pale, prickly skin, lower and lower.

Her mouth dropped open as she felt his lips on her tender spot, his tongue flickering lightly on her.

"My oh my, you're wet..." he purred as she moaned, thrashing slightly.

She squeezed his hands by her sides, her feet propped up on his shoulders as he only looked back up with a playful smirk.

"That's it, cum for me" he let out a muffled growl as her legs trembled, an electrifying feeling shooting from her pelvis and up her spine.

He propped himself back up and loomed above her, their hearts beating rapidly in sync, skin against skin under the humidity of the duvet.

"Well... was that quick enough?" He panted, hair falling around his face.

She wrapped her arms around him weakly and nodded, "perfect."

He tenderly nuzzled her, sitting back up and pulling her up with him.

"Do you think that Phoebe... you know, suspected?" He murmured against her forehead.

She pressed her lips against his neck, "No. You retained your composure."

He giggled, pulling her onto his lap, "Just so you know, it was a very difficult job. How would you like it if I-"

He was interrupted by their cries coming from the nursery.

She sat up, "Good timing."

"Did you pump more milk last night?" He watched her hand slide along his outstretched arm, briefly lacing his fingers with hers as she slipped away towards her nightgown laying crumpled in the floor.

She nodded, pulling it over her head, "Yes, don't worry. I also made up more formula."

"Right. Because I don't know how you can stand it" he forced himself up.

"Stand what?"

He grabbed his boxers, "having two babies hanging off of you like a hamster feeder-"

She slapped his arm, before heading out the door, "that's because you're a man! Now go get the bottles from the kitchen."

He grumbled as he stepped into his boxers, then quickly headed for the staircase. She giggled quietly before turning the knob open.

There they both were, crying in their cots. Once one started to cry it set the other off like a trigger. It was already beginning to push Freddie's patience, but Monica saw whatever motherhood threw at her as part of the job.

"Hello..." she whispered, peering in and picking her son up and bumbling his blanket with him as Freddie rushed back in behind her with two bottles in her hand.

"Here you are" he handed one over as she lowered herself into a chair, nodding at him in thanks.

"Here you are, baby," she whispered, bringing it up to the crying boy's mouth. "Yes, that's right... drink up..."

Freddie reached into his daughter's cot, "Daddy's here..."

She smiled and watched as he sat down as their daughter began to quieten down.

"So, Phoebe's coming today?"  Monica asked.

Freddie nodded, holding the bottle in place, "I think he just might be perfect. He's really consistent... also, he's keen to meet you, you know."

She smiled, "well, I hope he's what you were looking for. He needs a job, you need a helper. I reckon it'll go along swimmingly."

"Speaking of swimming," he said in the most sensual tone that he could form. "Remember Cornwall?"

"Freddie!" She scolded, and the man just smirked with a wink from his spot before glancing back to his baby girl.

"My god... I didn't know I could make something so precious one day," He murmured. "...

She has the bluest little eyes... just like her Irish flower of a mother."

Monica blushed, "that's what you called me the night we met."

"Never thought I'd start a family with that Irish flower either... no wonder I need an assistant. now I think it's safe to say my life is blossoming because of her."

"God's sake, he really doesn't think he is successful because of me, does he?" She thought.

"Freddie?" Monica said softly.

The man lifted his eyes from the baby in his arms, "hmmm?"

"You never needed me... you did that all on your own."

"You kept my spirits up each day at the studio... knowing you'd be who I was returning to at the end of the day."

"Because you chose to," she said. "You wouldn't have made it this far if it weren't for your passion of music either... I thought your mum said you had your heart set on being a star."

He blushed, and she just giggled gently.

"I never thought children would step into the equation... but I'm certain I'll not regret it"

He looked tired, hair unbrushed, and slightly fatigued, for he had dark circles under his eyes, but still perfect to her. He lovingly brought Roshni's small clenched fist up to his lips as he he'd her close against his bare chest, leaning his head back and closing his eyes  as he let out a sigh in content.

Monica smiled, and glanced back down to her little boy. The bottle was nearly emptying.

"Right," she pulled him against his chest. "Time for your burps."

"Oh god... please don't get that milky mess everywhere-"

"That was because you didn't use the suggestion of a burp rag that I gave you" she lowered her eyes at Freddie, patting her baby's back gently as she paced back and forth.

He shuddered, "I couldn't get the smell out of my hair for days."

She laughed, "that's what happens when you put fashion over practicality."

"Well, sorry, but some people want to look good." He scoffed.

"You don't need to try too hard to do that" she bent down and kissed his forehead.

He smiled, "why must you flatter me too much?"

"You flatter yourself without even knowing." she laid Johnny down onto the nappy-changing mat.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means that I love you." She pulled her hair back from her face before undoing her baby's buttons.

He stood up gently, laying Roshni down on the unit next to her brother and suddenly pulling Monica into his arms.

She laughed as he repeatedly kissed her cheek, "Freddie?!"

"I'm going to make myself breakfast," he murmured in her ear. "Is there anything I can prepare for you while I'm still here?"

She shook her head, "just make a pot... I'll be down with them momentarily."

He smiled, then leaned down to kiss their heads as she giggled before he exited the room and said, "I suppose that'll mean I love you as well."

The girl wore a silly smile on her face for hours.

***

That evening, around 7:30pm...

"Thank you for having dinner with us, Phoebe." Freddie opened his front door.

"Not at all, thanks for paying the bill," The tall, slightly butch young man with a moustache walked in and looked around, Mary following in tow, "I must say, this is a very nice house."

"Thank you, dear. Mary, go lead him into the kitchen and put the kettle on for me please," Freddie instructed, taking his leather jacket off and turning to the stairs. "Monica?"

"I'm giving them a bath!" Her voice called from upstairs.

"Take your time, I've a few things to sort out downstairs." He replied before heading into the living space.

He had a pretty positive feeling as he strolled in. The discussions throughout the day had gone well so far, and so far Mr Freestone seemed positive enough to move on from a wardrobe to personal assistant.

"Mary?" Freddie said as he walked in.

The woman's ears pricked and she lifted her head from the files in her hand.

The man nodded, "Do go get the young chap's bank details. He is hired!"

Phoebe gushed, "Really?! Oh my god, I can't thank you enough!"

He shook his hand, "not at all, my girl is a bit busy with the two of them at the moment but I'll take you up when tings have cooled a bit. How do you take your tea?"

"Milk, no sugar." Phoebe replied, and the man nodded as he put two teabags into the pot.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I must see how Monica is getting along."

Mary and Phoebe both nodded before glancing back to their paperwork, and Freddie rushed  up the stairs and called, "Monica? Where are they?"

"I'm nearly finished!" She lifted Johnny out of the water and into a towel.

"Oh good!" He followed her voice into the bathroom. "I want to see them! I missed my little boy and girl. Give me one of them."

"Alright," she handed the baby into his arms. "You can start drying him off."

Freddie beamed, gathering the towel up around him, "hello there..."

He took him into the bedroom as Monica finished off washing Roshni's back, sitting on the edge of the mattress and cooing at the child in his arms.

"Oh yes... you love that when mummy pours the warm water over your head, don't you?" Monica smiled at baby lying on her back and laughing back up at her as her little arms splashed the water.

Mary stepped into the bedroom, and Freddie lifted his head from the child on his lap.

"Has he signed the forms already?" Freddie asked.

"Yes, he will be up in a minute. But we really need to discuss this nanny business too, you know."

"Maybe when they're a little older, and Monica considers starting work again," He said, adjusting little Johnny as he squirmed in his hold slightly. "When the time gets closer for me to go on tour... I'm sure Peter will be happy to help when I'm home."

"Very well, I will look for a few agencies."

The woman jotted that down as Phoebe appeared next to her, "Here you are."

"Thank you" Mary slipped them into her briefcase. "This is... this is Freddie's newborn son, Johnny."

He gasped, propping himself on his knees as he looked at the baby under the towel, "Is this the boy?"

Freddie nodded, then proudly stated, "Everyone's been saying that he's got my eyes."

"Certainly.... and where's your little girl?" The man asked, looking around.

"Still washing her" Monica called from the en suite bathroom.

"Is that your fiancé Monica?" Phoebe asked, pointing at the door ajar.

Freddie nodded, patting Johnny's head dry, "Go on ahead, my two favourite girls are right in there!"

Mary twitched awkwardly at those words as Phoebe eagerly rushed over and appeared at the doorway, "Monica?"

The girl turned her head, grabbing a towel off the chair, "oh hello! You must be Phoebe."

"That I am," he shook her hand before peering into the tub. "And this must be little Roshni."

"Yes," the woman giggled, and Phoebe felt his heart melt slightly as the infant gurgling on her back, smiling up at him. "She loves her bath time."

"Fred was right, I've only known you for a few seconds and already I can see you in her."

She giggled, picking her up gently with a towel, "Johnny just might grow up to be a Fredclone... with brown hair of course. So, how do you think you'll find Freddie as a boss?"

"Hopefully not too difficult... what's he like at home?"

As if on cue, Monica heard a scream coming from the master Bedroom before she could even speak.

"ARGGGHHH GOD! FUCKING GROSS, GOD!!"

She glanced at Phoebe in shock before rushing out to find Freddie sitting on the mattress with a look of horror on his face with his wailing son on his lap, his left trouser leg covered in liquid faeces as Mary stood nearby helplessly.

"Oh! Can you-Can you hold her please?" Monica quickly handed Roshni over to a bemused Phoebe before rushing to Fred. "Love, what happened?"

"What does it fucking look like?!" He whined through gritted teeth, rigid. "The boy has bloody well shat on me!"

Monica glanced at the two other people in the room, cheeks growing red.

"Alright, alright, stay where you are," she picked the crying baby boy up. "I'll change him as fast as I can-"

"But he's ruined my fucking trousers!" He gestured the stain on his leg as she rushed the baby to the changing unit.

"Well, it's something you're going to have to get used to from now on. They're babies, Fred, not cats..." Monica told him before turning to Phoebe and whispering, "He leaves me to the nappy stuff unless he really has to."

Phoebe nodded before laying Roshni down on the bed atop her towel, "Allow me to help, Freddie."

"Well, I ought to get going and gave my dinner," Mary zipped her briefcase up and glanced at her watch. "He's your problem now."

"Thank you, Mary. Not the most helpful contribution at this time." Monica thought as the blonde quickly exited the room.

Phoebe rushed downstairs to find a basin by the time she was finished cleaning the boy up.

"You're a little shitting machine. Do you know that?" Freddie looked at Johnny as Monica laid him down on the mattress in his nappy.

"Oh, stop," she said, picking up Roshni. "You can't stay mad at your own son forever."

"Unfortunately not" he muttered under his breath as Phoebe came in wearing rubber gloves, holding a plastic bag and a cloth.

"I'll put these in the wash straight away. They might need pressed." The man delicately lifted off  as much poo from Freddie's leg as he could.

"Try not to get it on the bedding and carpet." His boss replied, unbuttoning his trousers and pulling off his shirt.

Monica laid Roshni back down next to her brother once she had a nappy on, "We're all going to need a tray of tea after this."

"Shit! I forgot the tea!" Freddie exclaimed.

She kissed his forehead, "I'm on it, love. You start dressing them for bed, ok?"

He nodded, and Phoebe gestured his boss to lift his legs in order to peel the soiled trousers off.

Once he too had left the room to put them in the washing machine, and Freddie was left alone with his two children.

He rolled over to them and onto his stomach, "oh, you're both lucky mummy and I love you enough to let you get away with everything."

They both looked back up at him, squirming limbs as they gurgled slightly.

"Don't you fucking dare give me those eyes," he cooed back at them. "One day you'll both grow up and this'll all be over, oh yes it will."

He blew raspberries on their bare tummies, causing them to let out infectious squeals of laughter.

"Oh daddy loves you both really," he kissed their cheeks. "He really does."

Their toothless smiles made him giggle, and he stood up and went to their nursery to find their bedtime one pieces as Monica carried a tray in, Phoebe in tow, "I'm sorry about all that drama. You'll have to grow patient for a lot."

"Oh, I saw him lose patience in the dressing room when one of the dancers accidentally used his foundation sitting on the table. It's nothing new." He pulled a nearby table over.

"Yes... he was a little exasperated when he came home to me that evening," she sighed, placing spoonfuls of sugar in the teacups. "I told him to lighten up a little. Sometimes I swear I have three children."

He giggled, "well, I reckon that we're going to have a lot of fun ahead of us."

"Oh, it'll be colourful alright... Freddie? Are you nearly done?" She called.

"Alright, alright!" He rushed in with handfuls of garments.

"Oh love, just pick something out" she wiped her forehead with the back of her hand. 

"Oh, but they must look good when they're asleep!" He started arranging them.

"Remember what I said to you this morning about putting fashion over practicality?" She picked a garment up and random and started dressing Roshni as Phoebe laughed from his spot.

"Fine" he huffed, then slipped Johnny's feet through the babygro legs.

"Thank you so much for having me here" Phoebe said.

"We are delighted... I'm glad Freddie ran into you in time." Monica handed him his cup.

"I'm glad that I made your acquaintance," Freddie added, putting an arm around her shoulder. "Welcome to our family, Peter."

That night...

"Nice man..." Monica murmured as she strolled into the dimly lit nursery.

"Do you like him?" Freddie whispered, wrapping his arms around her from behind.

She peered into the cots upon her sleeping babies.

"Yes," she laced her hands with his. "He reminds me a lot of an old friend at school... must be the smile."

"What was his name? Better not have been Eustace"

"No," she giggled softly. "He was much younger than me and his name was Ben Johnston... nice boy. Felt bad for him though, he got made fun of because his initials were BJ."

Freddie let out a loud laugh, and Monica frantically shushed him as one of them pouted in their sleep.

"Go and get the box." She ordered.

"The box?"

"The music box" she pointed to the wooden elm box with the inlay of a bear on the lid.

As soon as she learned of Monica's pregnancy, Freddie's mother Jer had a ordered a custom-made music box from a company in America. It didn't come cheaply, and was a bit of a hassle to arrange and purchase, hence why they only ordered one. But the arrival of a first grandchild was an important event for her and Bomi.

"Very well" Freddie twisted the knob around the back.

He set it down at his feet as the chorus to You Take My Breath Away twinkled throughout the room.

He asked his mother why she picked that particular song, and why she didn't get in contact with him ahead of time so that he could arrange a piece specially for his child.

"We wanted to keep it a surprise, my boy," she answered him at the time. "You father and I, we listened to the last two recent albums of yours."

"But it was written before I even knew Monica." He protested, looking down at the fine object in his hands.

Of course, it was very fitting, for rgardless of when it was written and who it was for, that song always made him think of Monica, but only she knew that because only he told her.

"And that song not only reminded us of her, but most of how you love your family. Your father and I agreed it was the one that came out of your heart."

"A lot of songs come out of my heart, mum. But at the same time they don't mean anything or are attached to anyone."

"But what we are trying to say is that to us, it was the most raw love song that you had written... it truly reminded us of you"

"Well," he was indeed flattered. "Thank god you didn't pick something like Danny Boy just because Monica is Irish!"

Freddie smiled to himself at that memory, eyes glistening.

"What are you giggling about?" Monica turned around in his arms to face him.

"Oh nothing," he kissed her lips. "Just about how much I love you all."

She smiled, and grew concerned when she looked into his teary eyes in the dark, "Freddie?"

"Just... let me hold you," he whispered, and she nodded and laid her head on his shoulder. "And let's watch our angels sleep for a while before we go off to bed."

He stood in the dark in silence, huddled up close to his loved ones, relieved that at last that song that he sung along to in his head had some form  of significance to him, just by the sight of the three of them:

"I will find you

Anywhere you go

I'll be right behind you

Right until the ends of the Earth

I'll get no sleep till I find you to

Tell you when I've found you -

I love you..."

Nothing more described the new love he felt as a father.