TITLE: A Thousand Glimpses
SERIES: All My Children
AUTHOR: Dreiser
CONTENT: SPOILERS. F/F romance. Bianca/Reese. Breeze.
SUMMARY: Reese Williams had experienced a thousand glimpses of the life she always wanted but until she met Bianca Montgomery she never thought she could have it for herself.
DISCLAIMER: I own nothing but my love for sparkly vampires and the actors who resent portraying them.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is a prequel of sorts. A backstory meant to show how Bianca and Reese met and fell in love using the tidbits of information we've been given. I'm going to try to keep everything canon and in character. Since we know far more about Bianca than Reese I'm going to tell most of this story from Reese's perspective in my own small attempt to give her character more background. Once again, like with most of my fanfics I'll be posting this on my LJ and as a work in progress. Hopefully a work people will want to progress. So let me know if you like it/hate it/are indifferent. I really enjoy getting criticism, particularly the constructive sort. The title of this fic comes from a lyric from the song Leaves' Eyes by the band of the same name.
Oh yeah, I have nothing against Maggie. She will be referenced and she might show up in the fic but this is a romance for Bianca and Reese so please, don't bring the anger towards Reese in the comments. Tamara Braun is doing a spectacular job with this character and Bianca has seen more action with her in a few weeks than she has in the last eight years.
Reese Williams enjoyed building things. She had ever since she was a little girl and her father brought home the first set of tinker toys soon to be followed a massive collection of legos. There was a giddy sort of pride she experienced in looking at a structure she had first imagined then drafted into its paper beginnings standing tall in front of her in its completed brick and mortar form. But as much as Reese loved buildings she sometimes had to get away from them to inspire the creative process for designing one.
It was honestly a bit strange. The desire to escape the very thing that you're creating but Reese always attributed it to the fact that she didn't want to be influenced by structures already in existence. The easiest way to do that is to try and escape them. Although escaping buildings is a rather difficult task when you live and work in the bustling metropolis of Paris, France.
She considered it a happy coincidence that her office building was just a short walk from one of the most beautiful and tourist free parks in Paris. The Parc des Buttes Chaumont was a expansive plot of land with grassy slopes, lush with trees and flowers, full of charming little nooks and crannies that Reese was fond of hiding herself in and today was no exception.
Beneath the sprawling branches of a Lebanon Cedar tree not far from the grotto is where she found refuge with her sketch book and favorite Kohinoor Rapidograph Technical pen that was .13mm which suited her just fine no matter what Maurice said about the .50mm being a much more sensible choice. Though this was one of her usual hideaways, a place where she had been inspired on numerous occasions, Reese found her attention wandering all because of what had to be the most awkward but sweet and truly entertaining attempts at a soccer match that she had seen in quite some time. Though if she called it soccer she would receive a more annoying lecture from Maurice than the one on her choice of drafting pens.
Out of all the cultural differences she had conquered being an American living in Europe it was the transition of calling her country's game of soccer by the name of football and her country's game of football by the oddly derogatory sounding name of American football was the one that continued to trip Reese up the most. She wondered if she would ever get used to it.
Whatever they were playing, Reese wasn't sure if it really was soccer or football or anything else remotely sport like. It did involve a small black and white ball being kicked but there didn't appear to be any sort of aim as to where the ball should go by either participant. The little girl was adorable in her t-shirt covered with a rainbow of polka dots, purple capri pants, and white sneakers. Her wavy brown hair pulled back in a ponytail mimicking her mother's hairstyle who was dressed in more conservative colors though her black pants and v-neck blue sweater were well suited to her figure in Reese's opinion.
Her work was important, she had been asked by a fairly well known entrepreneur to provide ideas for a new corporate office he planned to build in the outlining area of Milan, Italy. Ideas that were meant to be displayed in the form of some very real sketches to be provided at their scheduled meeting Friday of next week. Even without Maurice's ever present nagging, Reese knew full well how important this particular client and project would be to her business and reputation but despite knowing all this and having the deadline of that meeting looming on the horizon she couldn't tear her attention away from this mother and daughter playtime.
Maybe because she didn't have any memories of doing such things with her own mother. There were countless ones with her father, chasing him through their large backyard, resting behind the low hanging branches of a Weeping Willow during a game of hide and seek, flying down a snowy hill on a rickety sled from his own childhood. They flashed in her mind time and time again but nothing with her mother. Just the recollections of formal dresses and uncomfortable shoes accompanied by quiet understated corrections on what was and wasn't the proper behavior on her part. Reese had never raced after her mother like this little girl, squealing with laugher, cheeks red and eyes smiling, dancing backwards while giving a playful taunt.
A taunt her mother returned with a wide smile and a look of determination forming on her delicate features as she pulled her leg back for a powerful kick. One that caused the small black and white ball to go whizzing right past her wide eyed daughter and at an equally wide eyed Reese who had been so taken with watching their playtime she didn't have the good sense to duck.
Labels weren't something that Reese enjoyed. Although there was a certain use for them she thought that when it came to labels and people they were inclined to be more cruel than anything else. That being said, she considered herself a bit of a nerd due to her utter lack of physical prowess and propensity for enjoying the latest and greatest technology with a sad fanaticism. Also, she secretly loved that mathematics always provided a consistent answer and could truly be called a universal language.
Being a nerd, Reese never was in a fight. Nothing close to one, in fact. Thinking back to all of her thirty seven years on the planet she couldn't recall being in anything close to a physical confrontation or being involved in something that would lead to injury.
Which is probably why she had no idea getting hit in the eye could hurt this much.
The ball fell to the ground with a vague thump and Reese heard a horrified shriek followed by the little girl scolding her mother and the sound of feet running towards her. Releasing a groan, her sketch book and drafting pen forgotten and fallen to one side, Reese covered her right eye with her hand, peering up at the mother and daughter who wore matching worried expressions.
"Je suis vraiment désolé!" the woman exclaimed, reaching out to lightly cup the elbow of Reese's right arm, still lifted up to cover her eye which felt like it was trying to escape from her head. "Oh mon Dieu! Est-ce que ca va?"
Learning another language had never been the easiest thing for Reese. By all normal definitions of the word she was fluent in French but there were times when it just escaped her. Times like being hit in the eye with a ball. Squinting at the mother whose eyes were large and shining, she waved her left hand and attempted a smile. "I'm fine, don't worry," she replied in English, currently unable to find the words in French, hoping the woman would understand. "It doesn't even hurt."
"Maman, elle parle comme Grannie," the little girl remarked, eyes alight and while she looked incredibly cute saying this in the back of Reese's mind she appeared a bit too happy considering there was an injured person in front of her.
"C'est tres bien, mon petit coeur," the woman complimented, drawing her eyes momentarily away from Reese and to her daughter. "Alors on lui parle en Anglais comme avec Grannie, d'accord?" Her daughter nodded in agreement her attention immediately returned to Reese and she looked incredibly apologetic and embarrassed and somehow Reese also thought that she looked entirely sweet at the same time. A strange belief when you considered this woman was responsible for her eye feeling like it was both trying to explode and pop out of her skull at any moment. "I'm so sorry," the woman now said in English without the tiniest hint of a French accent and with a bit of relief, Reese felt her brain translating their conversation in French and she realized they must be expatriates like herself, finding a new life in Paris. "I know you said it doesn't hurt but do you mind if I see for myself?" The slightest hesitation and the woman offered a quirky smile that was oddly soothing. "I did cause the damage, after all."
"You just want to see your handiwork," Reese accused, automatically returning the good natured teasing, unable to help herself in the wake of this woman's beautiful smile and her daughter's curious but worried gaze.
"There is that," the woman chuckled, slowly drawing Reese's hand down, wincing at what she saw beneath it.
Busy squinting her left eye and not bothering to attempt to open her right, Reese drawled, "That bad?" The woman's touch was cool and comforting on her skin despite the burning pain in her eye and she was disconcerted by this reaction. It wasn't who she was. Attraction didn't come fast and easy for her. It was a slow and painful process complicated by her relationship with her parents and the fact she more often preferred to remain solitary than be in the company of others. Fully aware that she wasn't acting like herself, that she hadn't ever since she saw this woman, Reese drew backwards, away from her touch and moved to gather her sketch book and drafting pen. But when she looked to her side they were gone. A moment later, they were offered up by two outstretched hands and a little girl who gave Reese a bright smile. "Thank you," Reese murmured, taking them back.
She rose to her feet, all too aware of the woman's continued observation, her dark gaze full of concern. For whatever reason Reese decided to chance at opening her right eye and was immediately rewarded with a blinding flash of pain that caused her to release a small cry. Instantly the woman was at her side again, hand at the elbow of her right arm which was raised up as she covered her certainly blackened right eye. "Oh god," the woman groaned, her voice thick and unhappy. "That sounded horrible. Please let me help you? Our house is just across the street, I can give you some ice to put on your eye."
"It's all right," Reese replied and though she knew she shouldn't she found herself leaning into the woman's touch, almost basking in it and that, she reminded herself was a huge reason to not accept the offer. "My office is close. I can get help there."
The gentlest tug at her sleeve and Reese looked down into large brown eyes, dark and so similar to her mother's that part of Reese was frozen by them because they were both filled with so much kindness. "If it hurts," the little girl began, slow and a bit reluctant but continuing once she looked to her mother who smiled at her encouragingly, "you should let us help."
Looking from the little girl to her mother and seeing that kindness remain along with a hinting expression of pleading, though the very idea of someone wanting so much to help her baffled Reese a bit, she couldn't find it in her to protest anymore. "Okay," she said after a moment, rewarded by matching smiles that threatened to blind her one good eye. "But I might need some help getting there," Reese murmured playfully, leaning down to smile at the little girl. "Hold hands with me so I don't wander into any cars?"
"I will!" the little girl replied, nodding her head enthusiastically. "And with Mommy too!"
"You should always hold hands with Mommy too," agreed Reese solemnly, returning the nod and looking up at the mother who smiled softly. "So," Reese tilted her head, hoping she didn't look as ridiculous as she felt, her pained right eye squeezed shut and her left eye appearing able to just squint. "Which way to your house?"
"It's by the Rue Manin park exit, we live on Avenue Mathurin Moreau," the woman said, she started to put her hand on Reese's elbow but stopped, wearing a sheepish expression and Reese wondered if she had noticed the effect her touch was having. "I'm sorry, here I am practically dragging you to my house after assaulting you with a soccer ball and I haven't even introduced myself."
"It's okay," Reese chuckled, unable to help herself because the woman looked so irritated with herself at her perceived rudeness. "This isn't exactly a Miss Manners situation. In fact, I'm pretty sure it isn't because I used to read that column a lot as a kid."
"Really," the woman said dryly, clearly doubting the truth of this statement.
"I was forced," revealed Reese in humorous secrecy. "My mom was big on manners."
"Ah," the woman nodded seriously though a hint of humor flashed in her dark eyes. She placed her hands on the little girl's shoulders who stood in front of her, now clutching the blinding soccer ball in question to her chest, and said, "I'm Bianca and this is my daughter, Miranda. We're very pleased to meet you but extremely sorry about the circumstances surrounding it."
"Reese," responded Reese simply, holding left hand out to Miranda who took it and gave it an eager shake. Chuckling at this, she looked up at Bianca with her one good eye and said, "It was a painful but memorable first meeting. At least we'll have stories."
"Oh god," Bianca laughed, walking around so she stood to the right of Miranda as the little girl took the sketch book and drafting pen held Reese's left hand and handed it to her mother before holding the hand in question. Bianca clutched the items at her side and reached for Miranda's right hand as they walked out of the park. "My sister would love hearing all about it. She claims our family has a disaster magnet curse upon us. This would definitely be used as an example of it being the truth."
"Technically I would be the disaster magnet today, so I'm not sure how much it would help her theory," said Reese, chuckling as she lifted her right arm slightly in an acknowledgement of her wounded eye. The sharp stabbing pain had dulled to a slow and steady throb and Reese hoped medically it could be thought of as improvement. She supposed it felt better. Not by much but the situation was helped by the genuine care and concern of the people leading her across the street and towards an innocuous brick house on Avenue Mathurin Moreau with white and pepto bismol pink arches and moldings. Bianca fumbled with her keys as she shifted Reese's sketch book, finally opening the heavy wooden doors that creaked with age. The architect in Reese immediately inspected her surroundings the best she could with her one good eye and she was quickly charmed by the simple but elegant décor found in the house. You could tell that a child lived there but there was a controlled chaos in the way Miranda's coloring books were arranged on the coffee table in the living room and her dolls sitting neatly for a tea party at the kitchen table. Reese stood in the entryway rather dumbly and murmured in a genuine and true compliment, "You have a lovely home."
"Thank you," Bianca called over her shoulder, placing Reese's sketch book and drafting pen down on the kitchen table as she walked over to the refrigerator. She rummaged through the freezer for several moments before finding what she was searching for, looking over at Reese she smiled wide and warmly, laughing a bit as she waved at the kitchen table. "Have a seat! Just move any of the dolls out of the way. Miranda won't mind, will you sweetie?"
Glancing at the little girl for confirmation, Reese was met with an affirming nod of yes and she couldn't help but smile as Miranda ran over to the table and pulled a small doll with curly brown hair from a chair. Running back to Reese, she peered up at her to say in confidential tones, as if speaking some great secret, "I'm going to play in my room."
"Okay," said Reese, smiling as Miranda ran down the hallway, absently kicking at the small soccer ball that had caused so much damage to her apparently far too delicate face. Walking over the empty chair, she sat down and experimentally tried to open her right eye. For once she was able to do this without it watering up immediately and naturally Reese decided the next step in her seeming recovery would be to poke at the burning area around the newly opened eye. Which resulted in her flinching and squirming in her seat as she cried out in pain. Hearing a restrained snort of laughter, Reese looked up with her one good eye and her other slightly teary one and said in disgruntled tones, "What?"
"Why did you poke at it?" asked Bianca wryly, approaching with an icepack wrapped in a small towel. Kneeling in front of Reese, she pressed it gently against the bruised skin and when Reese gave a hiss of pain Bianca replied with a soft nonsensical murmur that Reese imagined most mothers did. Dark brown eyes were warm and kind as Bianca murmured, "You need to leave this on your eye for fifteen minutes. It's going to help bring down the swelling. Then take it off for fifteen minutes, if you leave it on for too long it could cause more damage. Once you've had the icepack off for fifteen minutes, put it back on for another fifteen. You can do this for as long as you want. Even after few days if your eye still hurts because the ice will help you heal faster."
"Give a lot of ladies black eyes, do you?" remarked Reese with a humorous drawl. Laughing at this, Bianca shook her head and looked around the room, her eyes searching. Recalling Miranda's earlier exit, Reese said, "Miranda went to play in her room." Instantly, Bianca was at ease, once again focusing on the icepack she held against Reese's face and the visual inspection of the bruised skin that lay beneath it. "How do you know so much about black eye treatment? Are you a doctor?"
A look of veiled hurt and regret passed over Bianca's lovely features like a shadow and Reese wished she could take the words back but she couldn't and it appeared the brunette was already past them, once again offering a lovely smile. "Hardly," she said in droll tones. "I've spent time volunteering in women's shelters. Rape crisis, things of that nature. You see a lot of these injuries with the women who come in and I guess treating it becomes instinctual after awhile."
Reese didn't know what to say to this so she didn't say anything at all. Silence reigned until Bianca moved back, allowing Reese to hold the icepack in place herself, taking a seat at the kitchen table next to her, displacing a doll with blonde hair who was put on the kitchen table. Bianca seemed content to simply observe her which put Reese a bit on edge and out of nervous habit she began to bounce her legs and she tucked her left hand deep into her pants pocket as was her perpetual habit in such times.
"So," Bianca drew the word out long and languid, that smile on her lips once again but this time with a clear hint of mischievousness added to the mixture and Reese had a strange feeling the other woman was mimicking her own words from earlier. "Why didn't you duck? The ball couldn't have been coming at you that fast."
The blush that heated Reese's cheeks colored her skin almost as much as her bruised eye and on seeing it Bianca released a melodic laugh, like the ringing of clear bells, and though Reese knew she was the cause of it she couldn't help but laugh along.