I cannot stress enough the fact that this is an AU fanfiction. Some things remain the same; many things do not. I also cannot stress enough the fact that I know nothing of how divorce proceedings work or what it is like in Mexico. However, that's why we call this stuff 'fiction'.
Just a crazy idea that I hope to wrap up in exactly two parts.
/
Reese didn't want to fight and Bianca didn't want to wait.
That's really all either of them needed to know, so once the decision was made – that painful and slightly bitter decision of separation, of ending things for better or worse – Bianca didn't bother calling up Uncle Jack for advice and a dose of comfort; she didn't deliver this news to Kendall and wait for the inevitable moment where her sister transformed into her protector.
Bianca's mother almost steamrolled her into full disclosure after ushering Miranda and Gabby upstairs, the two girls worn out from a long flight and easily collapsing onto one bed to sleep.
"Bianca…" Her mother started as soon as the bedroom door shut with a soft click. "Tell me what has happened. What is going on with you and Reese? What has she done?"
Of course, that would be a long story to tell and Bianca just did not have the time to tell it. She didn't have the time to correct that last question, to tell her mother that it takes two for a relationship to falter and fall apart. Bianca didn't have time to weep, to mourn, to seek shelter in her mother's arms and to ponder the hard road ahead.
Bianca didn't have the time because she needed to get back to the airport.
"The airport? But why? You just got here from Paris—" Erica Kane nearly exclaimed but was cut off by the wave of Bianca's hand.
"I should only be gone for a day, at the most. I just need to take care of something and it needs to be done as soon as possible, so if you can watch the girls for me…?"
"You know I will, but really, Bianca, I think you should tell me what is going on."
Bianca already had her hand on the door knob, eager to get this nightmare over with as quickly as she could. Like ripping a band-aid off instead of slowly pulling it away from your skin, Bianca wanted today to already be tomorrow.
She didn't turn around but she said as much as she wanted to in that moment; she said all that really needed to be said.
"I'm going to get a divorce."
/
Marissa didn't want to fight and J.R. didn't leave her many options.
She had allowed too many chances to slip away, all in her pursuit of the threads of her past – seeking parents who hadn't wanted her in the first place, eager to erase the days she spent with her hands on other people for money – and when J.R.'s affections shifted, the world shifted, too.
So, when she stared at the photograph of a child that was not even hers and then walked away before tears could begin, Marissa took the only option she felt was around.
She walked away from Pine Valley as simply as she had walked into it.
That was a year and a half ago, though. And Marissa doesn't like to dwell on the past. She likes to focus on the here-and-now; she likes to focus on the hot sunlight beaming through the windows or the bright blue awning on the building opposite of hers or the sounds of traffic outside – always awake, always moving.
Just as she didn't expect to end up in Pine Valley all those many, many months ago – with love and heartache and family and lies – Marissa did not expect to end up in Mexico City either. But with a suitcase full of clothes, a couple of legal documents, and career barely off the ground… well, it became easy to travel outside the box. It became increasing possible to start anew in ways she would have never fathomed.
Marissa might never understand her past but she was determined to shape her future.
And this is where she has landed. For now.
In a completely different kind of valley, with the curious juxtaposition of thick polluted air in the downtown and Popocatépetl looming in the distance, Marissa makes the type of money that could take her years to amass back in the States. Perhaps it should make her feel bad, the fact that she is making a profit off of the desperate and sad faces of the emotionally weary…
…But Marissa doesn't dwell on that.
She thinks about the here-and-now; she doesn't sit around at night and think about that little boy's smile in that other town; she doesn't think about her 'real' parents and wonder if the three of them could have forged a whole new relationship.
No, Marissa doesn't think about those things.
She thinks about the next client that will show up at her door; she thinks about the hefty paycheck that will slide into her hands from someone who needs a really quick and relatively painless divorce; she thinks about the new friends she has made over drinks and she thinks about the apartment she keeps in Colonia Roma.
That's as far as she will allow her thoughts to go.
For now.
/
It could have been Nevada. They can process a legal separation in a matter of a few days and then shove you towards a flashy bar so you can drown your sorrows the good ol' American way.
After all, who doesn't want a bit of glamour and a bit of glitz when their world is shattering?
Speed, though, is what Bianca required. Speed and efficiency and absolutely no connection to any other part of her life – that's what Bianca needed.
She needed this to be over now; she needed to cut all ties and pick up the pieces of her existence on the flight back to her children. Time is for those who wish to figure things out and Bianca didn't need to figure out anything this go-around.
Reese never loved her the way a wife should.
And, maybe, the days of Bianca loving Reese the 'right' way were long gone, too.
So, Bianca Montgomery looked for someone who could provide urgent assistance without asking questions, someone who wouldn't look to divulge this failing marriage to the press, someone who did as they were paid to do and nothing more.
And so Bianca found that person.
By seven a.m., she was on the airplane and, after a stopover in Houston, she arrived in the heart of Mexico around noon. She gave the address to the cab driver and gripped the door handle as the man barreled through smog-covered traffic, bypassing all the usual tourist traps and ignoring the towering business buildings by their side.
In a few hours, Bianca thinks, I will no longer be a married woman.
The thought is still fresh to her, despite her determination to finalize things sooner rather than later. The thought is still able to slice at her skin, still able to cause a twinge of agony if she turns a certain way – if she looks back at the times when Reese adored her, if she lingers too long over the moments when she could stare into Reese's eyes and see forever.
In a few hours, I will be single once again.
Oh, she has her girls and that is everything; she has this family that truly loves her and supports her and would move mountains for her if they could.
But it is not the same and Bianca knows it.
In a few hours, I will be alone.
/
The appointment had been made via email, with all the appropriate details enclosed, and Marissa reviews the cut-and-dry facts of another marriage hitting the rocks with a practiced eye. There are children involved but both parties had already come to an agreement on visitations with their own particular terms – bouncing between where the primary parent would be living (currently unknown) and where the adoptive parent would reside (Paris, France).
Must be nice for things to work out like that, Marissa thinks as she scans the rest of the email.
When J.R. decided that their marriage would not last, Marissa was not totally surprised. She was always secretly craving stability and J.R. was always not-so-secretly seeking out passion. They were always a bit too much like oil and water – they just did not mix well. They had their moments, sure, but those moments were not frequent. However, they did have an overwhelming amount of love for A.J. in common. That boy is his father's world and, slowly but surely, that boy became a part of Marissa's world, too.
She could look at A.J. and see forever in his sweet gaze.
She could look at that boy and the past didn't matter so much anymore; she felt that her love for A.J. was like a shot at redemption for all the stupid things she had done just to get along.
Of course, that turned out to just be a daydream – just like all the other dreams she has followed without forethought; heart first and head last – and when J.R. called it quits, ready to start over with someone new, Marissa's role as 'mother' was collateral damage.
Marissa did not do as the other woman in this email; she didn't adopt A.J. and fully take on that mantle of parent. She kept one foot out the door, just in case things did not work out. She kept her emotions as close to the vest as she could. She didn't want to be hurt again. She was as afraid of losing as she was of actually having.
Of course, Marissa is pretty good at hurting herself when no one else steps up to do the job.
She was always only halfway there, never all the way – not in the marriage, not in the love she would give, not in the joy she would allow herself – and that's why she could walk away. That's why Marissa could disappear to another country. That's why Marissa can look at these cases and turn a profit and still sleep at night.
Marissa has learned that the best way to not get burned is to never get close enough to the fire in the first place.
A knock at the door causes Marissa's gaze to flick upward and away from the computer screen. It's exactly thirty-five minutes after twelve on a Thursday afternoon and, according to the email she's been perusing, that knock probably belongs to a Ms. Bianca Montgomery.
"Come in."
/
A lot can happen in a matter of seconds.
It doesn't always take a lifetime to find happiness or to meet a soulmate. Sometimes, it is the most mundane of experiences that leads to a person's ultimate triumph. Sometimes, life gives you exactly what you want – just not in any way that you would have imagined.
/
Neither one of them make casual conversation. It's not like they are long-lost friends meeting up for the first time in years. This is a lawyer and a client, nothing more than that.
Marissa asks questions and types up answers, faxes papers and puts an 'x' by every line that Bianca must sign and date. Bianca nods her head and, when she must vocalize a response, her voice is almost deafeningly soft.
Marissa is pretty damn good at reading the people who show up at her office door and she can tell that this Bianca Montgomery is nearing the end of whatever strength is left – it shows in the woman's dark brown eyes as they flit around, it sits restlessly upon the woman's shoulders. Bianca Montgomery is hanging on by a thread and Marissa is actually concerned what might happen once that last tether is cut.
Bianca is no slouch in the ability to observe others either; it has been a keen trait to have in the world of major business transactions. She can see the quick way Marissa Tasker's gaze will go over the words on the screen or on some piece of paper but how that very same look will unwittingly slow down when it lands on Bianca herself. That look pauses as if it wants to convey some kind of condolence – and then the covert stare breaks and it is a return to professional form.
The first time that things shift, quite unexpectedly, is when Marissa asks Bianca for a specific place of residence to put in an admen to the original agreement.
"I don't know, I mean… I suppose, for now, it will be back in Pennsylvania." Bianca answers with faint sigh. Really, despite her great love for her family, living in Pine Valley is not as appealing as it may have once been. In fact, Bianca isn't sure where she wants to be these days.
Marissa smiles inwardly, though it is not truly a pleased sort of reaction. More like irony twisting her features just the tiniest bit and then she pushes it off of her face as rapidly as it arrived. This is no time for her past to interfere with the present.
"Anywhere in particular in Pennsylvania?" Marissa asks.
Bianca Montgomery's answer is given off-handedly but it still rattles some of the poise that Marissa has relied on for the past year and a half.
"Right. Sorry. It would be in Pine Valley, Pennsylvania."
Because it is one thing to think of a place all on your own but it is something else entirely when that place appears to be looking for you.
"…Pine Valley, hmm?" Marissa murmurs quietly, not even able to catch herself before the syllables leave her mouth. Bianca looks more directly at Marissa Tasker; recognizes that faraway shade to the woman's eyes and suddenly things seem like they could be a little more complicated than before.
Because, even with Erica Kane as a hometown girl, Pine Valley isn't a destination on everyone's lips and it certainly isn't a place that a lawyer in Mexico City should know of.
"Have you been to Pine Valley before… or something?" Bianca questions cautiously. Marissa comes back to reality at that inquiry and flashes a reassuring smile to her client, deciding that she is not at all interested in finding out if their previous lives somehow have a bigger connection.
"No. Not at all. I've, uh, been to Pennsylvania before though. Long time ago." Marissa replies as she goes back to typing at the keyboard and printing out page after page of legal work.
And even though there is a voice inside of Bianca's mind that is telling her that this woman is lying, she decides to ignore those warnings in the name of getting this whole matter settled and finished for good.
When every bit of communication between Bianca in Mexico City and Reese in Paris is transferred, every 'I' is dotted and every 't' is crossed, every semblance of what was once a marriage is whittled down to just lines upon endless pages… When it is all said and done, the time on Bianca's watch and on Marissa's computer screen reads five o'clock.
"Okay, Ms. Montgomery, everything is taken care of. I have made copies of all the legal documents, in paper form, and sent them to your email address as well. Of course, as you know, I've facilitated the actual separation but you will have to file some of this information in Pennsylvania, especially in regards to your children and the terms you have set up with Ms. Williams – for your own legal protection."
Marissa says all of this as she places papers in folders and as she stops to stamp official seals on the bottom of each page. Bianca opens up her purse but keeps the plain white envelope buried at the bottom of the bag. It was a small wonder she was able to get that much actual cash through customs; she did not stick around long enough at the airport terminal to question her good fortune, though.
"I appreciate your time and energy on this matter, Ms. Tasker." Bianca says as she fishes out the correct amount that was stated in Marissa Tasker's first reply email. The relatively small-looking stack of bills is handed over and Marissa takes the money without any hesitation.
"Well, it is my job." Marissa responds with a small grin and Bianca Montgomery even manages a real grin of her own, coupling the gesture with a tiny huff of self-depreciating laughter.
"Right. Of course. I almost forgot why I was here…" Bianca says quietly, eyes going down to her hands and Marissa's own gaze goes to her desktop and the cash sitting there.
/
A lot can happen in a matter of seconds.
A whole universe can change with just one look or one comment; everything you've known up to this point can be turned on its head and you'll finally see the world in a whole new way.
All it takes is a moment. Just one. That's all.
/
Maybe it is the memory of Pine Valley after all; maybe it is the past that causes Marissa to speak up, to cross that very important barrier and actually show some caring to another person. Maybe, on this day and at this hour, Marissa was meant to say something more than legal-speak to Bianca Montgomery.
"I… I know it sounds really clichéd but it won't always feel like this, Ms. Montgomery. One day you will, you know, 'almost forget' and mean it."
And then they are looking at one another, truly looking, and instead of barriers being stepped over, it's like those barriers are completely gone. Marissa Tasker is a woman on the run; she lost faith in Pine Valley and lies about it to everyone. Bianca Montgomery is a woman lost at sea; she lost solid ground in Paris and pretends she is standing strong. They are masters at this game of smoke and mirrors; they are the most truthful fakers in the world.
Except for right now. Except for this single solitary point in time.
"…I hope so, Ms. Tasker… I really hope you are right."
It is just another shift, a secondary step off the pre-programmed path. Who knows just how much they would have revealed without saying another word to one another had the lights not flickered ever so briefly and had a lengthy roll of thunder not caused the floor beneath their feet to actually vibrate.
Both of them break the suddenly intense staring and look out the window of the office, noticing for the first time that the weather has gone from sunny to decidedly overcast. Marissa even notices that the wind has picked up, fluttering the various flags and banners hanging from surrounding businesses along the street.
When she turns back to face Bianca Montgomery, Marissa catches the quick downturn of the woman's head and, somehow, Marissa knows that the woman had not been looking out the window anymore. And, oddly enough, some kind of shy reaction bubbles up inside of Marissa's body and she has to focus on something – anything – in order to shove the feeling aside.
"Do you have a flight out tonight?" Marissa asks as she hands over the various folders.
"Yes, in a couple of hours." Bianca answers as she takes the files and holds them semi-against her chest.
They look at each other, smile in the smallest of ways, and then Marissa looks to her computer and Bianca glances back out the window. Out of the corner of her eye, though, Marissa is watching Bianca Montgomery – the way the woman's head is ever so slightly tilted back and how that adds a kind of graceful line one could follow from the forehead to the end of the neck…
Marissa sort of chokes on nothing at all and clears her throat, which seems to startle Bianca Montgomery away from the increasingly storm-like weather going on outside of these office walls.
"Are you okay?"
Bianca takes this opportunity to study Marissa's face as the woman inhales deeply and drinks from a mug that has been sitting on this desk the entire time. And as wildly inappropriate as it may be, Bianca does take note of the fact that Marissa Tasker is not at all hard to look at. But Bianca just acknowledges this information; she has no intention to act on it as that would truly cross a line.
Still, it is nice to know that while she is broken-hearted and emotionally drained, she isn't totally dead to the world.
Perhaps, though, it is more about the kindness underneath the formalities; perhaps it is the fact that Marissa Tasker let her guard down when least expected and offered up something sincere for Bianca to grab ahold of. It could be everything and nothing at all that is making Bianca want to open up to this virtual stranger – to spill her guts about the mess that is her life, to commiserate with someone who just might truly understand what she is going through, to no longer be the pillar of strength that everyone (herself included) expects her to be and to just be Bianca with someone… if only for a little while.
"Yea, I'm okay… I think…" Marissa finally replies with a grumble and a laugh.
Again, they smile and it is real instead of practiced and they both visibly stumble as they look away once more. It is definitely strange – on the surface. But it is not so strange if one were to dig down further, if one were to recognize the similarities between these two women and realizes that for as much as they hide, they both want to be found.
Marissa walks Bianca out and helps to wave down a taxi. The clouds up above are no longer just a bland gray; they have grown dark and ominous. The rain has started, if only lightly, and it actually feels good against the skin after a day of heat.
"Thank you, Ms. Tasker. This, uh, this hasn't been a good day for me and you've made it tolerable."
Marissa takes a small chance and reaches out, placing her hand lightly on the side of Bianca Montgomery's shoulder.
"I am glad I could help, Ms. Montgomery… and it's Marissa, okay?"
Bianca reaches out as well, briefly wrapping her own hand around some of Marissa's forearm.
"Okay, Marissa… and it's Bianca."
The thunder makes a return appearance and lightning illuminates the sky with a crack, causing both women to jump apart. A taxi finally sees them and glides up to the sidewalk. The rain is falling down harder now and Bianca hurries to the car door, darting in without another look back.
The taxi pulls away.
The job is done.
The money is on that desk.
And it takes a minute for Marissa's feet to move from her place on the sidewalk, from watching that taxi cab disappear down the road.
/ / /
To Be Continued-