Obviously stuff happens in between episodes, in between seasons… this takes place around the middle of season 2... Maxwell's POV
In Between the Lines, a Nanny fan fiction
Miko1725 claims no rights to the original premises, characters, etc.
Silence. Ah, what a truly marvelous sound… so to speak. In this particular home it was a precious commodity between the three children, dueling business partner and butler, and her. Maxwell shook his head, a small grin on his face. It certainly was an odd collection he'd acquired-- it had been just over a year since this unconventional family had been completed, and was one he wouldn't change for anything.
On this particular weekend, C.C. was in New Port meeting with one of their more affluent investors. The children were all otherwise occupied, thankfully at other peoples houses, and Niles was at a Butlers convention in Buffalo. With no one to gossip with or take care of, Ms. Fine had made herself scarce both the previous day and much of the current one. Almost as if on cue, the front door opened and the clacking of high heels came from the foyer.
"Good afternoon, Ms. Fine." Maxwell abandoned the couch to greet her, almost glad to have a little companionship in an otherwise dreadfully boring day. "When you said that you were joining Val for a shopping trip, I assumed you'd be gone all day."
"Well, there was no tie on the door… but if you've simply forgotten the cardinal rule, I can go." She put her hands and her hips and gave him one of those crooked smiles.
"No, no… please stay. As long as you are home would you care to join me for a movie?" He motioned to the couch with the bowl of popcorn on the coffee table, ready to go.
"Mr. Sheffield--If I didn't know any better I would think you were waiting for me!" With a chuckle, he placed his arm around her shoulder and they walked together to their seat. "What are we watching anyway?"
"Casablanca… it's one of my favorites." Fran took the popcorn and leaned back against him, legs stretched up on the couch. Lazily, his arm re-draped itself around her as she relaxed her back against him. Despite the short length of their acquaintance it was remarkable how easy it was for them to be together. Without anyone else there to make assumptions or interrupt they could just relax as friends… it felt wonderful to have such a companion. Though she was a bit of a yenta (to borrow her vernacular), Fran could be trusted with the personal things they discussed and proved time and time again her compassion and understanding for anything and everything. She seemed an eternal optimist, something he both respected and found endearing about her. His eyes left the screen for a moment to glance down at the young woman resting against him: those lovely eyes were fixed on the screen and the glow from the television was accenting every curve of her face. It was in these fleeting moments that he could take the time to appreciate how attractive she was.
As the credits rolled, Fran sat up and stretched: "you know Mr. Sheffield, I really enjoyed this movie. Thanks for letting me join you."
"Ms. Fine, it was a pleasure… and such a shame to end it here. What do you say we go out for dinner?"
Fran smiled and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. He waited for her to bound up the stairs before allowing himself to grin like a school boy. For the life of him, he would never understand why she had this incessant need to constantly change her appearance. Fran was a beautiful young woman and, as far as he was concerned, was always quite lovely no matter what attire she had on in that moment. Of course, the whole evening is dictated by what she comes back down in…
Being that it was Ms. Fine, he knew that the wait would be intolerably long. The house suddenly seemed so quiet and empty--as though her leaving was equivalent to turning the lights out when exiting a room. Maxwell wasn't quite sure when it had happened exactly, but at some point in their convoluted relationship Ms--Fran--had nestled herself into his heart. These feelings were becoming less friendly and more amorous with each moment they spent together. This was not all together a bad thing, just something he had to maintain control over. In an ideal world, he and Fran could be pursue a real relationship. But, back in the real world, they were employer and employee. There were the children to think about. So many reasons he could think of for why it was a bad idea…
But you are falling in love with her, and that makes it a wonderful idea…
Where had that last thought come from… Maxwell returned to the couch and looked at the nearly empty popcorn bowl, smiling. The way she looked, the smell of her hair, the way she fit so perfectly against him… and most importantly, how easy it was to just be with her.
"Oh Mr. Sheffield! I'm ready to go--" had time really passed by so quickly, he thought standing. "but you aren't! Oy, isn't this a change," she laughed.
"And what's wrong with the way I look," Maxwell said as pitifully as he could muster.
"Well," she started, "for starters, I'm in a cute little burgundy dress and you are in around-the-house-attire."
"Oh, and what, pray tell, should I wear for you this evening?" He took her hand and kissed it lightly, thoroughly enjoying the look that washed over her face. "Care to come help me pick something out?"
What the bloody hell am I doing Maxwell thought as they headed down the hallway. We were just two friends spending the day together and I managed to turn it into a fight waiting to happen! He sighed and turned the knob.
Fran wasted no time making a beeline for the closet, much to Maxwell's relief.
"Here you go!"
"Thank you Ms. Fine… you ARE planning to let me dress in private…right?"
"Eh, only if I must," she sighed playfully. He watched her body move in its normal, flirtatious way towards the door… "I'll see you downstairs."
The two were quite a pair, drawing attention during dinner and now during their evening stroll. Fran had her right arm looped through his left as he escorted her down the garden path.
"Mr. Sheffield--"
"Now Fran--remember, when we are just out as friends, there is no need for formality."
"the rule is new… give me time…" she replied blushing. "Max… I didn't even know there was a place like this in Manhattan…well, at least not that was safe to stroll through after dark. This garden is so exquisite!"
Maxwell raised her hand to his lips: "My dear, not so exquisite as you are right now."
He blushed, recalling the moment as they walked on. Not too much had been said since--most likely--she was just as apprehensive about ruining an otherwise perfect evening. As if on cue, Fran stopped in her tracks.
"Max, can I ask you a question," she asked, sitting on a bench.
"I suppose," he replied, joining her.
"Oy, I'm going to hate myself tomorrow… but I gotta know… Max, how do you feel about me?"
He paused. Inhaling deeply, Maxwell took her hands into his own and stared intently into her eyes:
"Francine Fine, you are a beautiful, vivacious, charming, enthusiastic, warm and loving woman--not to mention an amazing best friend." He watched her blush, hoping his answer would suffice.
"Max, that's very sweet, but it's not exactly what I meant." Kissing her gently on the cheek, Maxwell pulled her up from the bench.
"Let's go home Fran."
The limo ride was not nearly as tense as anticipated, but Fran's question was really gnawing at him: here he had been studying the feelings he harbored for her and not ONCE had he considered how she felt about him.
"Fran, if I may be so bold… I'd like to reverse your earlier question." She looked confused. Max knew he must look rather foolish right about now, face red and eyes cast away from her own. "How do you feel about me?"
Soft. Those hands were silk as they lay on his. Those hypnotic brown eyes captured his hazel ones and she spoke in a sweet, low voice he'd never heard before: "Maxwell, you are a brilliant man and very sweet… even when you are yelling at me for some reason or another," they shared a smile, "and I care a great deal about you. You know, it's like you said earlier… I'm your best friend and… well, you're mine." As he had earlier, Fran leaned in and kissed his cheek.
There was a moment where neither moved. Time stood still there in the limo as their faces brushed together. Somehow, Maxwell knew their lives were intertwined in a way no one could yet comprehend… but now was not the time to pursue it.
Some day…