They slept for the next couple of hours, barely moving. The television flickered quietly in the background and the wind blew the bare tree branches outside the window. Max stirred a little and exhaled, and slowly began to realize that he had fallen asleep- and that he was on top of Fran. He peeked open his eyes just enough to look around and try to remember, and saw Fran's arm in front of him, resting across his back. He realized her arms were still wrapped around him, and one of her legs was curled over the back of his. He didn't want to move and wake her, and he liked the feel of her holding on to him like that. He opened his eyes a little more and saw the shape of her breast in front of him. He watched her breathing- her chest softly rising and falling under him- and listened to the sound of her inhaling and exhaling. It was so soft, so sweet. He felt the urge to kiss her somehow, but stopped himself and just let himself be in the moment with her. He felt a warm sense of love and happiness come over him, and he couldn't believe they were lying together like this, on his bed, napping together after a wonderful "makeout session." He knew he better not think about that or he'd get himself turned on again, so instead he thought about the wonderful things she said to him. She really did love him, he knew that with absolute certainty. And they were in love with each other. That realization felt amazing. It gave him butterflies just thinking about it.

And he loved how she always seemed to know how to calm his tension. Was it his anxiety? Nervousness? He didn't know why he should feel that way with her. She was his best friend. Maybe because it was new, and because the last person he had loved was Sarah. It took him a long time to be able to even consider getting involved with anyone new. It was so much easier to just assume that part of his life might be over. Then here comes Fran. Not only did she rescue the children and make them happy again, she rescued him as well. They took the time to get to know each other, to trust each other, and to develop feelings for each other. He knew that the only way that could have ever happened was for her to live in the same house with him, and he was so glad she had. She taught him so much, and had helped him in so many ways, big and small. It felt like he had been playing a role for so long- that he was on stage twenty four hours a day, just to keep up appearances. But she had seen right through it. She pecked away at his shell so she could get to know the real Maxwell Sheffield. And she liked him. She loved him. And now it felt like that old persona was falling away from him, forever. He was relaxing, truly relaxing, for the first time in years. Probably for the fist time since before Sarah got sick. It felt like a lifetime ago. Now here he was, with a new life, and this wonderful woman he could love, and be loved by. He would do anything for her. He'd been given a second chance at happiness, and he was going to protect it forever. He was going to take care of her forever.

Max wondered what time it was, and how long they had been asleep. He was turned the wrong direction to get a look at his watch. He decided to carefully lift his head off of her chest and turn it in the other direction, and he looked over her face as he did. Her head was turned to the side just a little and rested against another pillow. She looked so peaceful and content. He smiled and carefully slid his hand out from under her and turned his wrist to look at his watch. Wow, he thought. It was after four o'clock in the afternoon. He must have really needed that nap. He looked back at Fran, who stirred slightly, and then he rested back down on her chest, but turned in the other direction. Now that he was awake, he realized that it felt like it might be a little chilly in the room, and he hoped she hadn't been cold at all. Surely, if she had been cold, she wouldn't have been able to fall asleep?

Fran exhaled and Max felt her hands clutch his shirt, then she moved her leg off of his. She seemed to realize that it had been his leg that hers was on, and he felt her turn her head to the other side.

"Mmm.." she sighed, and wrapped her arms tighter over his back. He slid his hands back up under her and lifted his head up just enough to kiss the middle of her chest through her shirt, then he rested back down again. Fran made a noise of approval and slid her arms up a little higher around him. She cleared her throat quietly and Max heard her yawn, which made him yawn.

"That's contagious," he whispered. Fran chuckled.

"Wow, what happened? Have we been sleeping? What time is it?" She let go of him momentarily to stretch her arm, then yawned again.

"It's just after four. I just woke up a little while ago. I guess we both needed a nap."

"I guess so. Maybe we both needed to come down after getting so worked up…" she teased. Max smiled.

"Maybe."

Fran reached up and stroked his hair, comforting him again. He sighed and nuzzled her, then shifted off of her so they could change positions. He laid down on his back next to her and she rolled over into his arms and reached her arm across his chest. She rested her head down on his shoulder and they got still again.

"Are you cold, sweetheart? I can grab a blanket."

"I'm good, you're nice and warm. You make a good blanket." She smiled.

"Mmm… good. Anytime you need me, let me know, and I'll throw myself across you…" he grinned and they chuckled.

"Same to you, if you need me. I'll wrap myself around you…"

"Mmm, careful, or we might get in trouble again…"

Fran chuckled. "Did we get in trouble before?"

"Almost." He squeezed her closely to him and kissed her forehead. She pulled her leg up and rested it over him. She looked over at his face. His eyes were closed and the corner of his mouth was raised in a slight grin. She reached up and caressed his jaw, letting her thumb stroke it back and forth.

"I love you, baby," she whispered.

"I love you, my darling…" he kissed her forehead again and reached for her leg, clutching the side of her thigh near her knee. They were quiet for a while, enjoying the end of their nap and killing a little more time before their date.

"I really like having this time with you, Max. It's wonderful."

"It is. And not just today. All of it. I'm glad this vacation worked out this way. Really glad."

"Me too. I wasn't expecting any of this, but it sure feels like it was all meant to happen right now. It feels like we both finally got on the same page, you know?"

"Yes. It does. And you really helped me do that. You have this way about you- you seem to pick up on when I'm nervous, or when I'm about to make myself nervous. You kind of- oh, I don't know, redirect me somehow? You steer me in a better direction, you get rid of the negative thoughts and fill me with more positive ones. You help me find some confidence. So thank you for that."

"Aw, do I really do that? Well, you're welcome. I guess I just worry about you sometimes. Maybe I watch you for some kind of sign that you're having a hard time, or that you're going into a situation that might be difficult for you. I guess that probably started with going to opening nights with you. You get so nervous with those! Almost like you're scared, and I don't want you to be scared. And maybe there was a part of me that wanted to be the one you looked to to help you through it. Like the way I want the kids to come to me when they're having a hard time, or they're worried. I want to help them. And I've always cared about you, so maybe I needed to help you, too."

"Well, I'm grateful you did. I'm grateful you do."

"Aw, Max… You know you've helped me a lot, too. When I've done stupid things, and I might feel like I have to stick with my stupid choices, then I see you, and I realize I don't have to go that route. That I can do better. Make better choices. Be better. Sometimes I would see this look in your eyes, this hurt look. It would really get to me. It made me feel like I was betraying you, like you might be scared you were going to lose me. And, you know, even though we weren't together… there was this feeling that I knew we had a chance to be together, some day. And if I stuck to whatever bad choice I had made, I would ruin that chance. And sometimes I would figure it out, and sometimes the universe would force me out of that stupid situation. And there you were, open arms. Maybe it was like we were learning how to love each other unconditionally, you know? I mean, the only time I ever really had that, really had that, was from my parents. And Yetta. Blood relatives, you know?" She let out a small chuckle. "Then, boom! I knock at the Sheffield's door like I don't know my place, and here's all this love. I never thought a place like this existed."

"I like to think that you did know your place. Because your place was right here." Max squeezed her close and they looked into each other's eyes. She caressed his cheek and kissed him on the lips.

"I love you, Max!"

"I love you, too, Fran. And by the way, welcome home," he whispered. He caressed her cheek and kissed her.

"Dammit! Here, come sit up, I need to hug you!" Fran sat up on the bed and Max followed, and they threw their arms around each other. Fran kissed him all over his cheek and he smiled and squeezed her close, then he kissed her cheeks before they finally kissed on the lips again. "You're the sweetest man, Max. Do you know that?"

"Aw, I don't know about that. But I do have the sweetest girlfriend…" he smiled and they kissed again.

Fran suddenly separated from his kiss and grabbed her hair. "Oh my gosh! I must look awful! Is my hair all messed up? Oh, my hair must be messed up!"

"Sweetheart, you're beautiful. I'm the one who must be a mess. I think I was laying on your buttons." Fran laughed and checked his cheeks.

"Oh, you're good. You're adorable! I'm sorry for getting vain there, I guess I just need to get used to us seeing each other like this, you know, after we…"

"Slept together?" He grinned. Fran laughed out loud.

"Yes…"

"Maybe we should do that more often… you know, so we can get used to it…"

"I don't have a problem with that. Not at all." She wrapped her arms around his neck and they rested their foreheads together, then Fran turned to look at the bag of catalogs at the end of the bed. "Well, we didn't get much done this afternoon, did we? We were supposed to go through all those catalogs again."

Max looked over at the catalogs. "We still have some time. And I think we got a lot done… we got to spend some nice time together."

"True. Yeah, that was pretty nice…"

Max moved the pillows up against the headboard and they leaned back against them. Fran slid her fingers into his hand and he clenched them gently between his fingers. He reached over for the TV remote and turned the volume back on, and they watched a few minutes of an old episode of the $10,000 Pyramid.

"Hey, you wanna look at that furniture some more?" Fran asked.

"Oh, yes, actually. I'd like to read a little bit in there, too."

Fran crawled down to the end of the bed and grabbed all of the catalogs, then brought them back. She handed Max the catalog of furniture and got comfortable against him again. She picked up a catalog and began going through the pages, then rested her head against Max's shoulder.

"See if you see anything that would make nice gifts, too. Or anything that might look nice in the house. There may be other things that would go well with the new furniture. And you know what I was thinking? With the way the new couch will sit, we may be able to get a nice armchair or something over on that open side. Maybe even with a table next to it. Or a table on that end of the couch. Once we have it set up tomorrow, we can figure that out," Max said, and patted her knee.

"Yeah, you're right. That might be a good idea. Especially for if you have any parties."

Max squeezed her knee and she looked up at him. "If we have any parties," he said.

Fran smiled bashfully and rocked her legs up against him. They went back to looking at their catalogs, occasionally looking up to watch bits of the game show and laugh. Fran was thoroughly enjoying herself and the time she was spending with Max. In the past, if they sat this close to each other for more than a few minutes, Max would seem to get nervous or uncomfortable and would find some reason he had to get up and leave the room. But now he didn't need to come up with excuses, and he sure didn't seem to be uncomfortable any more. He was really letting himself feel everything. He was allowing himself to enjoy their time together. He was completely opening up to her and it felt wonderful. She felt very protective of him now, and she even wanted to protect him from anything stupid that she might have the impulse to do. But that afternoon, she knew she was feeling so differently. She wasn't feeling impulsive. She felt calm, and assured. Usually when she became impulsive, it came along with a certain sense of tension. Was it nerves? Anxiety? Frustration? Was it a feeling that she needed to do something to try to impress someone- someone like Max- so he might like her more? Maybe it was. But he did like her now. He loved her. And she didn't need to do anything but love him back. And she did. She didn't need to get herself worked up anymore. They could talk about anything together. And she wanted to talk about everything with him. She was finally happy, genuinely happy.

Fran spaced out for a moment as she thought about Max. Her head rested against his shoulder and her eyes wandered down over him to look at his legs, as the television screen flickered in the background. Time seemed to slow down, and the sound of the TV became muffled. She looked over to Max's feet, still clad in his socks, and at the dark blue jeans he was wearing. She had a flash of memory of their time at Coney Island, when she went through a similar experience of time slowing down and remembered that she was pretty sure there was a reason she was feeling this way. It was to help her remember the moment. It was to help her know with certainty that she was on the right path, with Max. It was to show her how much she loved him, even in a seemingly mundane moment like this- relaxing in the bed, looking at catalogs, watching TV. It felt like deja vu, but not in the way that would make someone feel they had been through that moment before. It felt like she was seeing a moment in the future, and she knew everything was going to be okay. She was right where she was meant to be.

Max noticed that she stopped flipping pages in the catalog and had gotten quiet. He glanced down at her and couldn't tell if she was watching the television or not.

"You alright?" He asked softly. Fran startled out of her daze and squeezed his arm.

"Oh, sorry. I spaced out there. I'm good, I just, I uh…" Tell him, a voice seemed to say to her. Her own voice. "Uh, honestly," she turned her head to look up at him. "I was having another one of those weird moments. You know, when it feels like time slows down? Like something's making you pay attention to everything. It feels a little like deja vu, but different. Stronger. More important. And not like you're going through something you've been through before, but sort of like you're getting a glimpse of your future. Does that make sense? Like- oh, I don't know if I should say…"

"Darling, you can tell me anything. You know that don't you? But I won't push it. Not if you don't want me to." He caressed her hand that was grasping his upper arm.

"Well, it feels like- like-" she got bashful again. "It feels like something's telling me I'm in the right place. That everything's gonna be okay. You know, like a sort of peacefulness. I guess it makes me kind of zone out." Max moved his arm and wrapped it around her.

"That's a wonderful thing to feel, Fran. And you are in the right place, sweetheart. You are. I know it. We'll take care of each other. We'll love each other. And it makes me feel pretty wonderful, too, knowing that you're here for us. With us. You're loved, Fran. So much. The children love you, and I love you. This is your home, and I want you to feel at home here. Don't be afraid to ask me anything, to talk to me about anything. Even if it's just about- oh, I don't know, getting new towels, or changing the curtains somewhere, anything at all. And especially if we need time together. If I get caught up in work, or you get busy with things, with the children, anything. We need to make sure we take time to stop it all and be together. So we can have more of those moments. Okay? More of those moments where time slows down… everything seems to get quiet… so we can feel that love. Really feel it." He caressed her cheek and she reached her hand up to his chest.

"Yeah…" she whispered. He kissed her softly and stroked her cheek some more. "You know, Max, you really crush me! You really do. Don't ever stop." Max chuckled softly and smiled.

"You do the same to me, darling. You fill me with butterflies, and it's wonderful."

Fran smiled and reached up for his face and pulled him to her for another kiss. When she finally let go of him, she took several deep breaths, trying to regain her composure.

"Hey, show me which one of those pieces you picked out…" she said, changing the subject before she got too emotional. She reached over to tug on the catalog in his hand and see what he was looking at.

"Oh, well, there's several in here I really like. I hope they still have some made. I'd really like to see them in person. Would you be up for going over to their showroom this week?"

"Sure! I'd love to. You still want to go on Wednesday?"

"Hmm, maybe tuesday or wednesday. We don't have anything planned for those days yet, do we?"

"No, I don't think so. You don't want to go on a day we have something planned?"

"Well, not really. I mean, well, tomorrow we'll be caught up in all the new things, you know? I think it would be nice to stay in then. Play with the new toys… and, well, thursday is our date. I think I'm a little nervous about that."

"You are? How come?"

"I don't know. Maybe because I haven't been to that place before. It sounds nice, but I guess I worry it might not be so good, and I really want the night to go well."

"It will, baby, it will! Even if we went to a place we have been to before, things could happen that might interfere with how you want it to be. That's okay, because we'll be together. If it sucks, we can go somewhere else. And hey, maybe it would give us a funny story to tell. You just never know. But as long as we're together, it'll be great. I know it will."

Max looked at her and smiled. "See what I mean? You always know how to do that."

Fran rubbed his arm and grinned. "Okay, tuesday or wednesday we'll go over to this place. Now show me the ones you like, I want to see!" Max smiled and flipped back through the pages, pointing out his favorites and why he liked them. Fran squeezed his upper arm and listened to him talk about each piece. She loved how strongly he felt about them, how much he appreciated the work that went into each piece. She knew at least one of those pieces was going to be in the house soon.

Sometime later they shut off the television and gathered the catalogs and put them back into the bag, then Fran helped Max straighten out the comforter and pillows. It was time to start getting ready for their dinner date at home.

"Oh, Max? Can I show you something before we start getting ready for dinner? It's just- well, it has to do with the kids. Something that I saw the other night, you know, after we came back from Coney Island, when I went to put all those things we got for them in their rooms."

"Of course. But- we wouldn't be prying or anything, would we? I don't want to spy."

"No no, well, not really, no. Not so much for the girls. Brighton, maybe. Well, maybe not. I don't know. Well, it's nothing bad. Not at all. It was something that, well, I just need to show you, and you'll get it."

"All right. You want to show me now?"

"Yeah, let me just get my shoes back on." Fran sat down on the bench and pulled her shoes back on and tied them, and Max slid his slippers onto his feet, then Fran took him by the hand and led him to the kids' rooms. First, they headed for Maggie's room and Fran turned on the bedroom light. Max saw the different items they won at Coney Island sitting on Maggie's bed and he smiled.

"What is it you wanted to show me?" He asked.

"Well, when I was in here, I was thinking about the things you told me, about everything that happened before. I was kind of wondering what Maggie was like when she was little, imagining that. And I looked over at her dresser and saw the pictures. Come here…" she pulled him over to Maggie's dresser to show him the pictures Maggie had sitting there. "See, she has one with her mother here. With Sarah. That made me happy, that she still wants to remember her. And then I looked over and saw this other one, of the two of us. That made me happy, too. It feels a little like she holds me in a similar regard, you know? I guess it makes me know that I matter to her."

Max wrapped his arm over her shoulder. "You do matter to her, Fran. So much. And yes, I guess I can see how that would make you feel. It makes me happy, too." He pulled her close and kissed her forehead.

"Now come with me to Gracie's room." She wrapped her arm around Max's waist and they shut off Maggie's light and walked down the hall to Gracie's room. Fran flipped the light switch, and Max saw another assortment of things waiting for Gracie when she got home. Fran pulled him by the hand over to Gracie's dresser. "So, it was kind of the same thing when I came in here- I was still thinking about things, trying to picture Gracie when she was little, and so I looked to see what pictures she might have out. She has a few more things than Maggie does, and I thought that was cute. The photo booth pictures, lipsticks. She likes to play dress up still. But see that necklace hanging there? The locket? Look inside it."

Max reached over to the locket hanging on the side of the mirror and opened it and saw the photo inside. He was moved, and looked over at Fran. She hugged his waist. He smiled at the photo, then carefully closed the locket and and let it hang back at the side of the mirror. He looked over the other photos.

"She worships you, you know. She really does."

"She's such a sweetie. And she's making sure she remembers her mother, too. Even if she doesn't have the same memories as Maggie, she knows where she comes from. It matters to her." Max looked into Fran's eyes and wrapped his arms around her.

"Thank you for being so good with them, Fran. You're the reason they're growing up so well."

"I don't know about that. We love each other, but they're both daddy's girls, too. Little things from you go a long way."

Max leaned his head down to rest against her forehead, then kissed her softly on the lips. "I guess we make a pretty good team then, huh?" He smiled.

"Absolutely."

"But what about Brighton? He doesn't get mushy like the girls do."

"Come on and I'll show you." They left Gracie's room and headed for Brighton's. Max turned the light on and looked around.

"So, let me guess, you were thinking about things in here, too. What Brighton was like when he was little?" Max asked.

"Yeah. But it was a little different with him. I know he can be a little guarded, he tries to play it a little tough. But he's also an awful lot like his father." Fran squeezed Max's hand.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, look around. What pictures do you see?"

Max's eyes wandered around the room. "Well, pictures of his friends I guess. Him with his friends."

"Yeah. That made me think of the pictures you have, like around the piano. The 'public' pictures. Pictures of you with famous people, important people, and some friends. But then I thought about where you keep pictures of who is most important to you. You know how you have some on the mantle in your bedroom? But where else do you have them, so you can see them a lot?"

"Um, I have a lot at my desk. I think it helps me remember to keep my priorities straight, so I don't get too caught up in work."

"Yeah, and you have them turned towards you, where you sit, not towards visitors who might come in."

"Yes…"

"But what do you notice in here?"

Max looked around again, trying to figure out what her point was. He looked for other photos or framed pictures, and didn't see any. "Um, I don't see any other pictures…"

"Exactly. But I thought that seemed weird. It didn't really sound like him. I mean, I know if he had friends over, he'd rather they see pictures of themselves than pictures of his family. They might call him a softie or something, right?"

"Oh. Yes, probably."

"But Brighton's too much like you. Even if he has to worry about the usual teenage things, people still matter to him. His family matters to him. So I thought, if you keep important photos at your desk, wouldn't he? He spends most of his time there when he's in here, if he isn't on his bed. And there aren't pictures on his bedside tables."

"But there aren't any on his desk, either…"

"Come here." Fran pulled him closer to the desk, then looked up at him and smiled. Then she reached for the pull on the center drawer and pulled it open. Max's eyes went wide.

"Oh!" He looked over the photos and smiled. Photos of Sarah with a mischievous Brighton, photos of him with Fran, beaming from ear to ear. And photos with the entire family. Brighton hid the important photos from public view, but kept them where he could look at them any time he wanted to. Or needed to. "Wow, Fran. I never would have known. I don't think I've seen some of these. And he has pictures of the two of us. How about that?"

"Yeah. How about that?" She hugged Max around the waist again.

"So, we probably shouldn't let him know that we know about this, right?"

"Yeah, probably."

"But what if I want copies of some of those pictures? Especially the ones of us. Those are pretty good, don't you think?"

"Yeah. Maybe we could ask Niles. Somebody took those. I'm not sure I remember them being taken, but it looks like it might be from a theater thing."

"Yes, it does. I remember that gown you have on, but that must have overshadowed the event, because I can't remember what it was. You looked awfully good in that gown." Max leaned over to get a better look.

Fran poked him. "Hey, you can't see into that gown by leaning closer to the picture!" Max laughed and hugged her.

"So, you think Brighton's a lot like me?"

"I do. Sweet. Sensitive. But wants the guys to think he's tough, that things don't bother him. All his friends do that, too. I think they're all actually pretty sensitive, too. B has a big heart, and stuff really affects him. I think as he gets older he'll learn that it's a good thing to be like that. He's a big teddy bear, just like his daddy…" Fran snuggled up to Max and put her arms around his neck.

"You think I'm a teddy bear?" He asked, sliding his arms around her waist.

"Mmm hmm. The best teddy bear. I want to cuddle you and hold you close, and love you, and kiss you, and take you with me everywhere…"

"Mmmm… that sounds nice… but maybe we should get out of Brighton's room if we're going to start doing anything about that."

Fran laughed. "Yeah. But we probably shouldn't start doing anything about that just yet- we still have a date to get ready for. Maybe after dinner we can start doing something about it…"

"Mmmm… okay. I'll try to hold off, but I can't promise anything. Every time I look at you, I want to do something about it."

"Hoo ha, Mr. Sheffield!" She bumped him with her hip. "Okay, let's go get ready. I'm getting hungry, too." She pushed the drawer back in and they left Brighton's room and stopped in the hallway outside. "So, I'll meet you in the kitchen in a little bit? And I'll start putting dinner together. But remember, you have to just relax and let me do it all. No helping. Okay? I'm taking care of you tonight."

"Alright. I'll see you down there in just a little bit." They kissed each other and reluctantly parted, and headed for their rooms to change clothes for their date.