A/N: Still don't own Reign. I don't understand why Mary ran away from Francis and Lola sleeping on the same bed. Picks up when she enters the doorway.
Mary was startled to see Francis asleep on Lola's bed. Quickly looking over the entire situation, she noticed Lola's exhausted features, even visible in her sleep. She knew Lola often refused help and knew that she had become even more protective of her little one since the break-in to the castle. She noticed that Francis has all his clothes on in proper fashion. Though she trusted these two people whom she loved completely, it was still a nice thing to notice. And she noticed the baby between them. The slight lump in her throat at the jealousy that this should be herself with Francis and their baby was quickly pushed aside.
Well, if she ever wanted this future with him, she had to let him back in. She had to test the capability of physical contact with Francis. She had touched Condé out of necessity. She could touch her husband. She would touch her husband.
Gathering up her skirts to create as little noise as possible, she crept across the room to Francis' side and knelt down. Tentatively, slowly, Mary reached out until her hand gently touched Francis' arm. Letting out a breath she had been unaware that she was holding, she shook him awake, "Francis." She whispered his name. If Lola's appearance was any indication, not much sleep had been happening recently for any of the occupants of these chambers. Francis stirred, but didn't awaken. She tried again, gentle shaking followed by a just-barely louder whisper of his name.
Francis jolted awake. "Mary!" Then, his eyes widening at how close she was and the scene she had just walked into, "Mary, I can-"
Mary quickly shushed him and motioned for him to stand. "Shh, Lola and the baby are asleep. We mustn't wake them." Mary leaned over and gathered the baby in her arms, shushing him and bouncing him as she laid him in his bassinet before walking out the door, motioning for Francis to follow her.
Mary stopped just outside so that she could shut the door behind them. Francis looked flustered and began speaking several times before deciding on a course to take.
"Mary, nothing was going on. She hasn't been able to get him to sleep for a few nights now and he fell asleep as soon as I took him." Francis looked panicked that she wouldn't believe him.
Mary smiled slightly, "Francis, I know there is nothing between you and Lola except your son. You needn't worry."
As he had followed her out of Lola's chambers, Francis had taken a few extra steps away. He had been doing that whenever he was around her since she had asked that they lead separate lives. Now, emboldened by being able to touch him to rouse him from sleep, she took a step toward him. Knowing fully how foolish it was to be afraid of the majority of men, especially her husband didn't help with the fear that was still coursing through her. No matter how many times she chided herself for this irrational fear, stemming from this irrational connection she was putting between Francis and her ordeal, she had been unable to allow for much physical contact.
This all had not been lost on Francis. "Mary, in there, you touched me. You had your hand on my arm when you woke me."
"I did." Mary nodded slowly. She had told Greer that she wasn't sure if she was ready, but she was ready to try. And she was desperate to know what Bash had meant when he said she would be proud of Francis. "Walk with me, please, Francis. I hear you've been busy while I've been gone."
As they walked, Mary moved closer to him in her strides, and, again moving agonizingly slowly, reached for his hand. By the time their fingers brushed, she was trembling and had stopped walking altogether. Francis seemed transfixed by their hands touching. "Mary, you're shaking. Are you sure you're ready?"
Hands firmly grasped, palms touching, Mary finally looked up to meet her husband's eyes. "It's ridiculous for me to not be able to touch you."
"Oh, Mary, I've missed holding you." Francis closed the distance between them and made to wrap his arms around her waist.
"No!" Mary backed away so fast that she backed into the opposite wall. Seeing his arm coming to encircle her brought her right back to that dark night when she had been alone and at the mercy of those vile men. They had shown her none and in return, she and Condé had shown none to them. They were dead. This was Francis standing in front of her.
"Francis, I'm sorry. I'm not there yet." She had a hand pressed to her chest, trying to slow her breathing and feeling her heart nearly breaking through the ribcage. "Small steps, please. I'm sorry. Small steps." She pushed off the wall and took a few slow steps back toward Francis.
As for Francis, he still looked shaken at the whole situation, but quickly shook it off and covered his hurt. He had no one to blame for this but himself. "Of course. I'm sorry. I got too excited and lost my head for a moment. As I've said before, take as much time as you need." He straightened his back and held out his arm. Mary gingerly put her hand in the crook of his elbow and they continued their walk down the hallway.
The silence was almost tangible after their misstep. Groping for words to break it, Mary finally said, "So, Bash said I would be proud of you?" a smile was pulling at her lips. The statement made it sound like she was a fond mother asking after his school lessons.
For similar reasons or at his own pride in the matter, a smile had also graced Francis' features. "Yes, I think you will be quite happy with me. While you squirreled away the Cardinal's main target, I managed to use an immoral love affair to our advantage and get the Vatican to leave us be, for the time-being, at least.
Stunned, Mary stammered out, "You stood up to the Cardinal and managed a moment of peace for our people who are Protestant? Oh, Francis, I want to hear everything!"
"I will, but Mary, I want to know what prompted this." He gestured to her hand safely tucked next to him. "You were leaving to get away from me and from here. I wasn't expecting this."
Mary took a deep breath, she didn't know how Francis would feel about the first man she touched being someone other than him. "Well, the Vatican's guards were there to arrest Condé and, as I didn't know of your success against them, I was trying to find a way to protect him. Leith and I were heating up a sword and he was willing to burn off the brand. When Leith touched the sword to the brand, Condé cried out and I grabbed his hand. I wasn't even thinking. I just wanted to ease his pain. In the carriage ride home, I was talking to Greer. I've been so wrapped up in my pain from this whole ordeal that I wasn't even thinking of your pain and suffering." Mary stopped speaking to the floor and met Francis' eyes. "If I could touch him to ease his suffering, I can touch you to ease yours."
They fell into silence again and she knew they were both thinking of when he had tried to hold her moments ago. And his words. He was missing holding her. She wanted to be at that step for him. Hopefully she would be in time.
She pushed excitement into her voice, "Are you really not going to give me the details of your encounters with the Cardinal? Come now, Francis!"
Francis heard real joy and pride in his wife's voice, projected at him for the first time in far too long. He was smiling through the entire story, as was she. As they continued walking to their chambers, his arm came closer to his side, and her closer to him with it. By the time they reached Mary's chambers, they were giggling over the success of their scheming and were shoulder to shoulder.
Opening the door and walking her to the edge of her bed, Francis dropped his arm and let her hand fall to her lap. He immediately missed the contact, little though it was.
His eyes moved from her gaze, down to her lips and he licked his own. "I suppose it's too soon for me to kiss you?"
Looking down at her lap and crossing her hands, Mary mumbled, "I think it is, Francis. I'm sorry." She looked back up and was holding back tears.
Francis backed up from her. "I would like to stay with you tonight, Mary. Not in your bed, I know that would be too much." He gestured to the couch sitting just off the foot of her bed. "I could sleep here. Just to watch over you. To be near you."
Mary stood and moved in front of him. "I would like that, Francis."
A/N: Well, another fix-it. Really, why are they both so dumb and over-reactionary? Some ideas of dialogue taken from the show.