A rumble of thunder groaned in the sky as tiny droplets of water pelted the earth. Dark clouds enclosed Paris, blocking out much, if not all, of the sun. The city was awash in gray, making it seem foreboding in the gathering blackness.
Bianca sat at her desk, trying not to tense at the loud boom of thunder. The storm was getting closer.
She randomly slid a folder over to herself and flipped it open. It was a summary of progress on the London deal from one of her vice presidents. She skimmed through the paper, forcing her eyes to stay on the page as the rain began to fall harder against the window.
She should be past this...was past this. Storms didn't scare her anymore. They didn't bring up those memories she had locked away for so long. Memories of rough hands and harsh words. The feel of his breath on the back of her neck. The pain as he pushed her against the rain covered window. The terror as his manic fingers ripped at her clothes.
It took a long time, but she didn't think of that when she heard thunder or saw a streak of lightning. Sometimes though, she would get an inkling of a feeling. A slight tense in her shoulders as a voice whispered in the back of her head that something wasn't right. That something was very very wrong. The rare times this happened, she could ignore it, but it would stay until she found something...something to remind her who she was. That nothing was wrong. That nothing bad was going to happen.
As a flash of lightning lit across the dark, quickly followed by a burst of thunder, the young CEO dropped her pen on the desk and stood up. She paced around until she found her cell phone in her coat pocket. Pressing number three, she instantly heard the ringing of the phone. She waited, using calming techniques she had learned when she was pregnant with both children to ease her breathing.
"Bon Jour, you have reached the cell phone of Reese Williams. I am sorry I cannot come to the phone..."
Bianca ended the call. The feeling was getting stronger. Her shoulders were tense, and her feet were begging to move somewhere...anywhere. They just needed to move.
Grabbing her coat, she slipped it on as she rushed for her office door.
"It's raining." grumbled Miranda, her tiny legs swinging back and forth.
"Yeah it is. I'd still take you to the park, but jumping in puddles is only fun when it isn't a torrential downpour." replied Frankie. "Not to mention your parents wouldn't like it if you caught a cold."
"I wouldn't catch a cold." groused the little girl.
"Trust me kid. Being inside in the rain is a lot better than being outside in the rain."
Miranda rested her chin on her hands, upset that the weather had changed for the worst. She was sitting up on the kitchen counter, her small legs kicking to her own special rhythm. Frankie leaned next to her, her chest resting against the smooth edge. Her forearms laid on the granite surface, her hands clasped together. Gabrielle sat over in her highchair, speaking to herself as she mashed her fingers together.
"Come on, kid. What do you want to do? Watch tv? Play a game? Eat lots of candy until you're bouncing off the walls?" Frankie sent her a grin.
A look of thought took over the cherub face.
Fingers reached out and danced across the child's side, causing her to giggle and bat at the hands.
"Stop! That tickles."
Frankie couldn't stop the growing smile at the sound of laughter, "This is for your own good. Looked like you were thinking so hard smoke was coming out of your ears. What would your mom say if she came home to a house full of smoke?"
"Frankie!" Miranda grasped at the deft fingers, missing every time.
"What do you wanna do, kid? Just tell me what you want to do." Frankie dodged the attempts at making her stop.
Laughing so hard she had trouble breathing, Miranda shouted out, "Cookies!"
Immediately the tickling stopped, "Cookies?"
Miranda smiled at the confused face, "I wanna make cookies."
The agent blinked, "You want to make cookies. Do we have cookie mix?"
Miranda shook her head as she held out her arms, "No silly. Mommy doesn't use mix."
Frankie slid forward and felt the arms wrap around her neck as legs wrapped around her waist. Locking her own arms securely behind the child's back, she took a step backwards. Seeing she wasn't going to drop her, she pretended to stumble around, the little girl giggling at her actions. Finally she dropped into a chair by the table, "Wow that was hard. You're so big...almost as tall as me."
Miranda removed her arms and legs from the around the woman, but stayed in her lap, "You're short."
Frankie chuckled at the matter-of-fact way the girl said it, "Yes, I am."
Miranda rested her head against the agent's chest, right above her heart. "Am I gonna be short like you?"
Frankie tried not to react as she felt the soft brush of brown hair against her chin and the light weight of the head on her upper chest. She fought back against the warmth spreading in her chest, not wanting to think about how this little girl could so easily make her have these feelings.
She swallowed roughly and pushed away the feelings before answering, "Doubt it. Have you seen your mom? She's crazy tall. Like a giant."
Miranda nodded her head as she took in the answer. After a second she lifted her head and jumped off the woman's lap. She looked at the agent, "We go make cookies. It's easy. Mommy makes them all the time."
Frankie watched as the girl walked away further into the kitchen."But I've never made cookies." she uttered under her breath as she stood up.
She followed Miranda and found her standing before one of the many cabinet clusters. "Ok cookie monster," the agent shoved her hands into her pockets as she stood next to the girl, "What do we need?"
Frankie waited as Miranda held a finger to her chin, perusing the many cabinet doors.
"Flour." she finally said with a nod.
"Flour," repeated Frankie, "Ok...where is that?"
Miranda looked up at the agent, clearly having no idea.
"Ok then," the agent let out a breath as she moved to open the first cabinet, "you just keep thinking about what we need and shout it out. I'll find it...somehow." The woman began to rummage through the first cabinet, pushing cans of soup and boxes of pasta out of the way.
"We need...sugar...and eggs...and chocolate chips...and skittles..."
"Skittles?" Frankie looked at the girl as she closed the first door and reached up for the next one.
"Skittles." confirmed Miranda.
"Ok, skittles it is." the agent reached up and swung the cabinet door open. She tilted back her head, but the cabinet was so high she still couldn't see inside it. Glancing around, she spotted the kitchen chair she had sat in earlier. She walked over and picked it up, ready to use it as a height booster.
"What are you doing?" asked Miranda, stopping Frankie in her tracks.
"I can't see up in there. This will give me enough height to be able to." explained the agent.
"Mommy says not to stand on chairs." Miranda scolded the woman.
"But kid..."
"No. Mommy said so." Miranda folded her arms and cocked a hip.
The agent looked at her before slowly setting the chair down, "Ok Ms. Montgomery. If mom says no, we don't do it."
She walked back over to the cabinets, wondering how in the world she was supposed to look up in there if she couldn't reach. Glancing back at Miranda, she knew she couldn't sneak the chair over and use it. The woman let out a sigh as she bent at her knees. Suddenly she was jumping up and down, catching brief glimpses of what was inside.
On the fourth jump she saw a box of flour.
"Perfect." she mumbled. Knowing it was probably the only box in the apartment, she crossed her arms as she studied the structure. Rubbing at her eyes, she turned to Miranda, "Kid. Never ever do this. This is for trained professionals only."
Seeing the child nod, she turned back to the cabinets and let out a breath. She opened the bottom cabinet and pushed the cans back from the top shelf. Placing her foot in the now open spot, she tested her footing before lifting up, her hands quickly clinging to the bottom of the top cabinet. Feeling the creak of the wood beneath her foot, she swiftly pushed up with one hand while the other blindly felt around the top shelf. Coming into contact with a box, she grabbed it and flung it to the ground.
"Is that it?" she called out.
The sound of little feet running over was accompanied by, "No. It's oatmeal."
"Oatmeal? Who eats oatmeal?" Frankie whispered as she swatted around again.
A loud boom of thunder shook the room.
"Frankie!" a frightened Miranda yelled as the lights flickered.
Startled at the sudden noise and light show, the agent tried to swing around and see what was happening. Her foot slipped on a package of who-knows-what, causing her weight to shift all onto her one hand. With a precarious grip at best, the loss of balance had her tumbling to the floor. She landed on her back with a smack, boxes and cans raining down from the sweep of her arm as she fell. Three cans hit her stomach as a box bounced off her head.
"Frankie! Are you ok?" shouted Miranda as she knelt next to the fallen agent.
Frankie groaned as she felt pain ricochet off her back and into her head. "This is why I never listened to moms."
She slowly sat up, willing the pain away. Tiny hands pushed on her back, trying to help. "You ok, kid?"
"Yeah. But you fell like a thousand feet!"
Frankie chuckled at that, "No...it was only a couple hundred at best." She sent the girl a reassuring wink as she carefully stood up, the cans rolling off of her body as she moved, "Don't worry. I'm fine."
Miranda, comforted by the agent's ability to still move...she had fallen a long ways...puttered over to the box that had made contact with the woman's head. "Look...flour!"
"Aces." Stone held a hand to her back, a loud pop sounding as she bent backwards.
"What're we gonna do with all this?" Miranda cradled the flour to her chest as she looked at the mess that now littered the floor.
"Leave it. We'll clean it up later."
After shaking off the fall, Frankie, along with Miranda's help, found all of the needed ingredients they thought might go into a cookie. Thankfully, all of the other ingredients had either joined in the great cupboard fall or were in a reachable location. Especially since the youngest Montgomery ordered the agent to never do that again.
"Ok, we have all the stuff. Now what?" Frankie arranged the boxes and cartons on the counter.
"We need a bowl." Miranda said, sitting back on the counter next to the carton of eggs.
Frankie hunted around and found a large metal bowl. She set it next to the other items. "What goes in first?"
"This stuff." Miranda handed over the box of flour.
Frankie took the box and opened it, "How much?"
When she was met with silence she glanced over to see the little girl shrug. "A lot."
"A lot it is." She tilted the box and put three-quarters of it into the bowl. "Should we put in the sugar?" At the agreeing nod, Frankie began to pour in the sugar, "Tell me when."
The child watched as about four cups of sugar made their way into the bowl, "Ok."
"Now the eggs." Miranda opened the container, revealing twelve perfect white eggs.
Frankie took hold of two eggs, carefully cracking them and dropping the insides into the bowl. Wanting to help, Miranda seized an egg of her own and scooted over to the bowl. Slamming the egg against the edge of the bowl, it cracked open and yolk began to run down the side of the bowl. Panicking, she thrust the sticky mess over the bowl, the rest of the yolk and white dropping into the mixture…along with half the shell.
"Oops." Miranda peered in at the gooey substance. She lunged forward, her tiny hand rooting around for the hard pieces. "Got it!" she pulled out the sloppy shell.
"Great, kid." Frankie closed the egg carton.
Hearing a giggle, she felt something cold and slimy against her cheek. "You gots stuff on your face. I'll get it…oops."
Having seen a sheen of white powder on the agent's face from when she had poured out the flour, the little girl attempted to wipe it away. Unfortunately, she still had egg and flour mixture on her hands.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to." apologized Miranda as she realized what happened.
Frankie felt the stuff slither down her face, leaving a sticky train in its wake. Keeping her eyes on the girl, she suddenly jumped forward digging her fingers into soft sides as Miranda howled with laughter.
"You think that's funny, huh?" the agent tickled the little girl.
Miranda tried to crawl away from the torturous hands, her laughter echoing off the walls. She attempted to slide her body, wiggling across the granite surface as she flapped her arms. Her palm smacked into the mixing bowl, the hit causing the object to fly off the counter and bounce across the floor. Egg, flour, and sugar splattered on the furniture. Gabrielle could be heard banging on her chair at the sight.
"What is going on, here?"
Both Miranda and Frankie froze. They reluctantly turned their heads to see Bianca standing at the entrance to the kitchen, successfully hiding the amusement from her face.
"Cookies." was her answer.
She looked back and forth between the two. Miranda was flat out on the counter, half her body twisted away from the older brunette. There was flour on her face and egg covered her hands. Frankie had flour all over her clothes and face. Egg glistened on her cheek. Bianca moved her eyes to take in the rest of the kitchen. Boxes and cans of food were everywhere. The large metal bowl the two had been using was on its side, depositing what was left of the cookie mixture onto the ground. Gabrielle was in her chair, giggling and clapping her hands together.
"Cookies?" Bianca raised her eyebrows as she stepped farther into the room.
"Yes Mommy. We wanted to make cookies for you." responded Miranda as she scrambled away from her partner in crime.
"I see. And to make cookies you had to empty the cupboards?"
"That's my fault." Frankie cut in, not wanting the little girl to get in trouble for the mess. She stuffed her hands into her pants pockets, shoulders slightly hunched, "I was trying to get some stuff and it didn't quite work."
"What? Were you climbing on the cabinets?"
"Yeah! And she fell like a million feet!" answered Miranda with a wild gesture.
Bianca felt concern and worry shoot through her as she stepped over to the agent, "You fell? Are you ok?"
"I'm fine, Ms. Montgomery. Don't worry. I'm tough." Frankie shrugged, planting a smirk on her face.
"Tough?"
"Like a stone." Frankie winked. She felt two small arms wrap around her neck from behind, quickly followed by two legs. She automatically walked, giving the girl a piggyback ride over to a chair.
"Yeah…you're a tough one." Bianca couldn't hold in a smile at the sight.
Settling in her seat, Miranda looked up at her mom with big round eyes, "We're sorry mommy. We didn't mean to make a mess."
"Yeah mom. We're sorry." joined in Frankie as she executed a sad pout.
Bianca rolled her eyes, "It's ok. I appreciate that you wanted to make me cookies. What kind were you going to make?"
"Chocolate skittles."
"Chocolate skittles?" Bianca shot her daughter a confused look.
"Yep."
Frankie held up her hands as the mother gave her a questioning look, "Hey, don't look at me. She was the one in charge. I've never made cookies before."
Miranda gasped, "You've never made cookies before? Not even with your mommy?"
Bianca watched as Frankie shifted uncomfortably, "No…she was too sick to make cookies with me."
"You're mommy's sick? Is she gonna be ok?"
"I…I hope so."
"What's wrong with her?"
Alcoholism "She's just sick."
"Miranda, sweetie, why don't you go clean up." suggested Bianca, understanding this was one topic the other woman did not like talking about.
Knowing she should listen to her mom, Miranda nodded and stood up. She encircled her arms around Frankie, giving her a hug. "I'm sorry you couldn't make cookies with your mommy." Then, she shuffled over to her mother and gave her a hug as well.
"Don't be mad, mommy. She wanted to help, but the stuff was too high 'cause you're crazy tall like a giant, and she couldn't stand on the chair, because you said no standing on chairs." was whispered into the young woman's neck as she knelt to hug her daughter back.
"I'm not mad, honey. Go wash up." She gave the girl one last squeeze.
After Miranda had left, Bianca hesitantly strode over to Frankie, who was picking up the fallen cans of soup.
"You got a little something…there." She couldn't stop the grin as she ran her thumb over the egg stain on Frankie's cheek.
"Thanks. Sorry about the mess, but you know me. Us strays have no manners at all." The shorter woman tried to play it off, ignoring the burning on the tips of her ears.
Bianca kept gently running her thumb back and forth, smoothing out the soft skin, "I'm sorry about Miranda. She just gets curious about things…"
"It's ok, Bianca. I've told you before. She's a good kid." Frankie shrugged, head bent down and eyes focused on her shoes.
"She likes you. She wants to get to know you." went on Bianca.
"That's cool. I…I like getting to know her too." Frankie quietly let out.
Feeling the heaviness of the mood, Bianca wanted to lighten it up before her wayward daughter came bounding back in. Not to mention the agent was not known for her openness to personal discussions. "Do I even want to know what was in those cookies?"
Frankie chuckled as she lifted her eyes to the CEO's, "Come on, Bianca. You know what was in there. All of your favorite ingredients."
"Chocolate?"
Frankie smirked, "Sugar, spice, and everything nice."
Bianca laughed at the corny joke.
"Mommy! There's no more soap!" vibrated down the hallway and into the kitchen.
"I better go help her." Bianca motioned towards the hallway.
"Yeah, don't keep a Kane waiting. Everybody knows better than to do that." joked Frankie.
"I'll be right back." Bianca shot her a smile, for some reason not wanting to leave.
"I'll be right here…figuring out my escape plan from having to clean this place up."
Noticing she was still touching Frankie's face, Bianca dropped her hand to her side with a slight blush. She turned and rapidly walked towards the doorway.
"Hey, Bianca." Frankie stopped her in her tracks, "If something was wrong, you could tell me. Whatever's bothering you…I may not be good at advice, but I can listen."
"What makes you think something is wrong?" Bianca kept her back to the woman.
"You're home early. You hugged your daughter like you hadn't seen her in forever. Not to mention you shake every time there's thunder."
"I forgot. You're an FBI agent. They probably taught you to read people."
"No," Frankie shook her head, "I know you. However little it may be…I know you. I know when you're scared."
"How's that?" Bianca swallowed roughly, trying to push down the emotions bubbling up.
"Because," Frankie took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Because…Bianca…I feel it. And it makes me want to protect you."