"Has the macarena made an appearance yet, or is it still all about the electric slide?" asked Frankie with a smirk as Campolini answered the phone.
"Stone...I have never seen so many people who couldn't dance in my life." replied the man.
"So no future contestants for Dancing with the Stars?" Frankie held in a shiver as the cold autumn air blew through the street. She fumbled with the zipper on her hoodie as she pressed the phone harder against her ear.
"Unfortunately no. My wife will be so disappointed that I can't tell her I met one of them." deadpanned Mark.
"Can't disappoint someone with no expectations." jested Frankie as she finally hooked the small pieces of metal and pulled the tag about half-way up.
"And my wife has sure learned to not have any where I'm concerned."
"Besides terrible dancing, has anything else happened over there?" Frankie sidestepped a small gaggle of tourists, their glossy maps fighting against the wind. It was unusual to find tourists in this area of the city. They tended to camp out around the Eiffel Tower or Notre Dame. The agent just shrugged her shoulders at them and moved on, wanting to make a sweep by the Cambias offices to check on Jones.
"It depends. Concerning the unsub, we got another letter, but nothing different than the others. We're still on high alert though, especially till we hear more about that little present he gave us."
"The Keystone Cops over in Lyon are still playing hardball with the files." Frankie filled in with a roll of the eyes.
"Yeah...well...just give me a heads up when you do get them."
"What else is wrong besides the letters and the French Barney Fifes?"
Campolini sighed, "These people have the craziest lives I have ever seen. Stone, I don't know what these people do...but my head is still spinning trying to figure it out. It's becoming difficult just focusing on our case. Everyone here has either done something, is doing something, or will be doing something."
"Don't even think about getting involved with any of that stuff, Mark." warned the woman.
"I know. I know. It's tough though."
"Just watch the dancers and let it go."
"Speaking of dancers, Erica Kane sure got herself one here. He's spinning her around like a top. He can actually kinda dance."
"Oh yeah?"
"Yeah. He's a young guy. Man Stone, this broad sure gets around. The boys here are calling her a cougar or something. I thought it was supposed to be a fox."
Frankie smirked, "Kane's a fox, huh?"
"Yeah, foxy lady. She's got some years on her, but I wouldn't mind a little go around as long as she ain't talking. The words that lady says to us..."
"What would your wife think if she heard that?" joked Frankie as she jogged across the street between two oncoming cars.
"She'd be ecstatic that she'd be able to finally get rid of me." laughed Mark, "Damn...I need to go."
"I'll give you a call if we learn anything."
"Frankie wait...before you hang up." Mark's voice lowered, "You're sounding a lot better. I don't know everything that happened, mostly rumors. But you sound good."
Frankie blinked at this, her mouth suddenly dry, "I'll talk to you later."
She pressed the end button and shoved the phone into her pocket. Not wanting to start thinking about what the other agent had tried to bring up, she slipped out a cigarette and lighter, quickly lighting up the white stick. Deeply inhaling the calming nicotine, she held it in until her lungs burned and her eyes felt watery. Slowly she let the smoke out, watching as it floated away. Feeling the soothing affects, she scanned the area, trying to determine how much farther till she reached the office building. She turned the corner and almost bumped into the tall figure standing there. Frankie looked up and grinned at the face she saw.
"You really need to stop doing that." Bianca glanced at the cigarette, a smile crossing her face at the sight of the agent.
"Aww, but all the cool kids are doing it." Frankie pretended to whine as she lifted the stick to her mouth.
Bianca reached out and plucked the cigarette from between her lips, "Whoever said you were one of the cool kids?"
Frankie shook her head, unable to stop grinning, "Way to lower my confidence. If I hang out with you too long I might start getting a complex."
Bianca raised her eyebrows as she got rid of the cancer stick, "With that ego you have? The only complex you'll have is a Napoleon one."
"Are you calling me short?" playfully gasped Frankie.
"Maybe I am." challenged Bianca.
Frankie leaned in closer to her with a smirk, "Maybe? Maybe I heard you like short."
"Mmm...maybe. Or maybe I just like looking down on the world."
Frankie stepped back with a laugh, "That is something that will never happen. You don't look down on anything, Bianca."
Bianca felt a slight tingle of something inside at the playfulness of their exchange. Not wanting it to go away, she offered the other woman a toothy grin, "Maybe...you would have lunch with me?" She gestured to the cafe a few steps away, "I was on my way there when you tried to run into me."
"Running into people is your family trait, not mine." Frankie glanced over at the small establishment, "And lunch actually sounds kinda good right now."
The two walked over to the entrance and were quickly seated. As they opened their menus, the agent discreetly peered around at the dining room. Her eyes stopped for a millisecond on Jones as he was seated a few tables away, enough time to let him know he was noticed but short enough to not raise suspicion if anyone was watching. The server came over and they quickly placed their orders.
As he walked away, Bianca sat quietly and watched her companion. Frankie fiddled with her water glass, rolling it around on its base. She finally broke the silence, "What brings you out here?"
"Taking a walk. Miranda is in school and Reese decided to take Gabrielle with her today." shrugged Frankie as the glass spun around.
Bianca nodded, "She's going on a business trip for a few days and wanted to spend time with her before she left."
"Yep, so I'm stuck until the kid gets outta class."
"Nothing else to do?"
"This is my only job, Ms. Montgomery." Frankie gave her a look before breaking out into a smirk, "I guess I could solve world hunger or find a cure for AIDS, but I'm kind of a slacker. Besides, win the Nobel Peace prize or have lunch with you...it's such a hard choice."
"You would take the prize." Bianca said, even though inside she was slightly giddy.
"I do look good with medals."
"You've won medals?" said the taller woman with interest.
"Surprised that I could win something?" shot out the agent.
Bianca shook her head, "No. I know you can win things. That you've won things. I just never knew you got medals for it. What did you win it in?"
"I was the fastest runner in my class." explained Frankie.
"You raced?"
"Every cop within the city limits, and some outside of that." a cheeky grin.
Bianca couldn't help the laugh that came out, "Cops huh?"
"You wouldn't think they could run fast, but those potbellies must be aerodynamic or something. They could flip themselves over a metal fence like it was the Olympics." continued Frankie.
"You were a bad girl, huh?"
"Sometimes. Other times I could be really good." the agent winked as the server placed their food in front of them.
As Bianca picked up her fork, fighting against the thoughts that the shorter woman's wink brought up, she heard, "What did you think I won?"
"What?" she looked up.
"What was it you thought I had won?"
Bianca looked back down at her salad, pushing a piece of lettuce with her fork, "It was a long time ago. Doesn't really matter anymore."
"Did I get a medal for it?" was gently asked.
The past hour had been intense. Possibly the most intense hour of Bianca's young life. She had told someone that she might be in love with them. Not any someone...Frankie. The girl who had captured her attention the moment their eyes met in that emergency room.
If that wasn't crazy enough, Frankie freaked out. There were tears, nervous abrupt movements...and Frankie opening up more than she ever had before. Saying how no one had ever told her they loved her, not even her parents. How she didn't know how to love. The sadness and fear in those deep puppy dog eyes made Bianca want to hold her and never let go. To protect this beautifully broken girl from the pain life had given her. She wanted that more than anything, because no matter what was said, she cared for this girl more than anything else in the world.
Then her mom showed up. Erica Kane came in and she had heard the whole thing. But, instead of yelling and attacking Frankie like she always had, she offered acceptance. She wasn't inviting the girl she had repeatedly called a con-artist and fake to Sunday dinner or anything, but she was willing to accept their relationship. It was completely unexpected but happily embraced by the teenager.
After her mother had left, the two talked...or tried to. It was clear that Frankie was still jittery. She couldn't get over Erica's attempt at an olive branch. She didn't trust it.
Bianca didn't want to talk about her mother anymore. She wanted to talk about them. Earlier she had left her mom and Frankie alone, as requested, and started to make some tea. While down in the kitchen, she had an idea, and no matter what, the idea wouldn't go away. It felt right. It was the right thing to do.
"I know you don't know how you feel about everything, yet." began the teenager as she adjusted in her seat, an uncontrollable smile crossing her face, "but...um...there is something I want to give you."
"Like what?" asked Frankie.
Bianca stood up, her hands coming to the necklace resting around her neck. She undid the clasp as she stepped over to the chair Frankie was sitting in.
"Oh my god." murmured Frankie as she saw what Bianca was doing.
Bianca unwrapped the thin gold chain from her neck and stood in front of the other girl, "This was from my father. And he was a totally amazing person, and...um...and I know he was totally cool about me, even though I never got a chance to tell him who I was before he died. And so, I don't think that he would have a problem...if we changed the pictures...when you wore it."
Frankie looked up at her with watery eyes, shaking her head, "I'm sorry, I can't."
"Yeah, you can," Bianca held out the necklace, the light reflecting off the dangling golden heart locket. "Frankie, please I...listen I don't need to be reminded that I'm loved. I know I'm loved. But you...you do. You need to know that somebody loves you. That I love you. So please...can I put it on you?" she finished in a whisper.
"I can't." Frankie looked at her brokenly, emotions battling in the depths of her brown eyes.
"Yes you can, you really can." Bianca encouraged as she knelt down. She could see the blonde holding back, trying to hide the vulnerability that was shining through. "Just let me in."
She leaned forward and hooked the necklace around Frankie's neck, moving her hair out of the way. She couldn't help the smile and feeling of pure happiness as she saw the heart-shaped locket resting against the girl's smooth skin.
Bianca blinked, her hand stilling as she remembered, "Yeah, you did...in a way."
The table was quiet for a few minutes, the only sound being the scraping of silverware against plates.
"Bianca...at the park..." began Frankie after some time had passed, "I shouldn't have..."
"Stop." Bianca looked up, her eyes locking with wary brown orbs, "Whatever you're going to say, stop. You...you said how you felt. What you were feeling."
"I shouldn't have. I had no right to say those things."
"You always have a right to say how you feel, Frankie. I've always wanted to hear that...what you feel, what you're thinking." She slid a hand across the table, fingertips touching the sleeve of a hoodie, "We need to talk about it. We have a lot to talk about. Sometime we need to. But please...never be sorry for opening up to me. Please."
Frankie looked down at the fingers rubbing the opening in her sleeve, "A hard shell, huh?"
Bianca felt a burst of emotion at the line that had been said to her so long ago. "You or me?"
It was getting late, but Frankie ignored the bright red numbers illuminated on the alarm clock. She flipped though the small amount of pages in the large folder, rereading the information. A picture of a smiling Reese Williams, taken from her driver's license, stared back at her.
"I don't get you." muttered Frankie as she skimmed over the history again, "What am I missing? What changed for you? You only dated men. You were engaged to a man. Then all of a sudden you meet Bianca and bam...you guys are getting married and having kids together."
She took a gulp of the lukewarm coffee sitting on the side table next to the bed.
"Why did you switch so quickly? I know Bianca's hot but..." she rubbed at her eyes tiredness creeping in.
"Ok...scenario. You're walking along when all of a sudden you see this gorgeous chick sitting in a park with this little girl and you instantly fall in love. Now if that's true...why would you have a child so quickly?" she flipped through the pages again, exhaustion only escalating her confusion.
"Are you afraid you're gonna lose her, and this is the way to keep her? Is she afraid of losing you? Why would there be this fear? Was there even a fear?"
She reached for the cardboard cup and lifted it to her lips. She tilted it back, but nothing came out. It was empty. "New question, why is there no more coffee?"
She set the object back on the table and sighed, the itch for a cigarette starting to hum in her body. She plucked the little white stick that was resting on her ear and brought it to her lips, her other hand stumbling around on the table until she grasped the lighter. A few seconds later she was inhaling the much needed hit, the white smoke trailing out of the corners of her mouth.
"It's too soon. It seems too fast." she mumbled around the cigarette in her mouth.
Picking up her cellphone, she quickly dialed a number and held it up to her ear. She took the stick out of her mouth, smoke pluming behind it, "Johnson, get Washington and tell them I want a more in depth report on Williams." She waited a beat, "I don't care if that's all they have. Tell them to get me more information, now!"