Disclaimer: I own nothing, except my own creations.

Paul pulled into the carpark, killed the engine and opened his door to the sound of a couple bickering.

"What more do you expect?" said the annoyed man, his voice carrying across the concrete.

He stepped out of the car gingerly to hear a high pitched female reply. "At the very least, some notice would have been good."

He moved inconspicuously so that he could see arguing couple. He always liked a good cat fight.

"Well, take it up with Adam," came the short reply. "Don't take it out on me."

He could see the man fully now and snorted at the sight of long curly hair. So out of fashion.

The woman he saw not long after when she passed some contraption thing. The man obediently slid it over his shoulders, even as the argument continued.

"And what of Deborah?" she asked, her head back in the car, but her voice easily heard.

The man froze. "That had absolutely nothing to do with me." She must have turned to look at him, for his eyes were serious. "Trust me."

"I do trust you," she replied. "But it's the whole situation I don't."

"Join the club," the man muttered as he fixed the last buckle.

"Just how did she manage it?" she woman pondered, finally reappearing. He saw that she held a baby in her arms, a boy if he had to hazard a guess.

She stopped before the man who suddenly appeared all innocent. "You know!" she accused him, even as she moved the child into his arms. "Jonathan!"

"I may have a view on the facts," he replied ambiguously as he turned his attention to strapping in his son.

"You're going to tell me."

"So you can publish it on the front page of The Digest?" he snorted. "I think not."

She just eyeballed him.

The man named Jonathan was clearly as much male as the rest of them for he swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing visibly.

But Paul praised him for standing his ground.

"Let's just go."

She grabbed her handbag and locked the car before they crossed the carpark.

He made to look busy as they passed him by, but lifted his eyes soon after.

They were arguing once again when they reached the door to the huge leisure play centre. Jonathan opened the door, letting his wife (I mean, who else would she be?) pass through first.

Paul raised an eyebrow. Clearly they had issues, but he was a gentleman to the end.

He sighed. Where could he find himself one of those?

He didn't expect to see them again, but when he exited the gym and returned to the carpark an hour later, it was incidentally at the same moment the couple were departing.

And it appeared their group had increased by one.

A little girl skipped before them, a colourful treat bag in hand. Looking back to the parents, Paul was heartened by the sight.

Jonathan's arm was around his wife's shoulders, his other hand occupied by the baby.

As they passed him by, he saw that her hand was resting comfortably in his back jean pocket. He blushed as Jonathan and his better half then kissed.

Clearly he wasn't the only one embarrassed for the little girl spoke.

"Kithing again!" cried the child with an adorable lisp.

He had to laugh when the couple broke apart and her mother moved forward.

"Run Alanna," her father cried. "You're about to be smooched to death!"

Paul left the scene with his hand on his chest. It really did do the heart wonders.