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Madame Tussauds

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"All right then, all aboard!" The giggling and chasing continued, and a small sigh escaped the man as he looked at his three kids, chasing each other around the car. He was about to try again when something else caught his attention - the lady walking out the front door.

"Having trouble again, Richard?" She asked her husband, a playful hint to her voice as she handed him his white overcoat. Her blonde hair was brushed back neatly and a white mink coat covered a simple, yet elegant black dress.

"Yes, yes, I'm afraid so. They never listen to me." Richard replied with a resigned sigh as he put on his overcoat, wearing it over his dark brown suit and red necktie. "It's strange, you know. I can survive being chased by spies, chased by the police, and being handcuffed to you, Pamela, but I can't get my kids to listen to me." He laughed as he remembered those few days, the most terrifiying, but yet the most thrilling of his life.

"It's a different kind of art. Your fabricated stories of revolvers in your pocket don't work with five-year-olds." Pamela replied, and the two shared a laugh as the time Richard pretended his pipe was a revolver, used to keep Pamela from giving him away, was brought to mind.

"Oh, those were the days, weren't they? Acting as counter-espionage agents, going to the Scottish Highlands and back, and those handcuffs. I say, I'll never look at them the same way again. Not after the way I was saddled with a pair, no sir!" He continued in a clear British accent, starting the car as he gestured to Pamela to get the kids in.

"Do you remember our first kiss? I was just sitting in the Flying Scotsman, reading my book, and in you come, with the police right behind you, and you say, 'Darling, how nice to see you!' and come over and kiss me." She walked over to the side of the car, ignoring the kids for a moment, as a smile was evident on her face.

"And you turned me in right after that! Escaping on Forth Bridge is not easy, you know?" Richard laughed at the memory. "But it's funny how we met again, how I told you to call up the Canadian embassy... it's funny, isn't it? The way circumstances can bring people together." He turned his chocolate brown gaze on her.

"Yes, it is rather strange." Pamela admitted, reminded of how she despised Richard at first and was almost glad at the thought that he would be hanged if she turned him in. "It is strange," Without warning, she leaned over and kissed Richard, knowing how close she was to almost losing him.

Caught unaware with the kiss, he nevertheless returned it. It was one of the few times in the five years that they had been married that Pamela had brought up the topic - they generally avoided it because it made her rather emotional.

The couple was brought back to reality by the giggles of their children, who had given up chasing each other and now instead stood still, watching their parents. Pamela drew away quickly, a little self-concious, and Richard tried not to let his embarrassment show by adjusting his tie instead.

"Come on, get in, you lot! We can't stand around here all day!" She picked up her children one by one, putting them into the car one by one. Tristan and James, the twin boys, were the first to get buckled in, followed by Amelia, their four-year-old sister.

"Everyone's in?" Richard asked jokingly as Pamela took the front seat with him. Stepping on the gas pedal, he turned away from the quaint bungalow that they were staying in - the family lived in Winnipeg, but were in London for the summer.

"Yes, where to?" She hadn't been informed of the trip details beforehand - all the warning that Pamela got was Richard storming in like a tornado and yelling for everyone to get dressed.

"Madame Tussauds." He replied, an impish grin on his face.

"What in the world for?"

"To see my great-uncle Penraddle, of course!"