Paris, France
July 2005

Chapter 5

Maggie flopped over on her back restlessly, tugged the sheet up over her head, then shoved it back down to her waist. She checked the clock on the bedside table. Not even five a.m., too early to get up for her run, although with all the restless tension she was feeling, if she went now, she could probably make complete a circuit of Paris and still be back before Bianca was awake.

Bianca. Ah, there it was, the cause of her restlessness. Maggie grabbed a pillow and stuck it over her face, wrapping her arms around it and screaming. "Brilliant," she muttered into the soft cotton pillowcase. "Just brilliant, Stone." She threw the pillow aside and sat up, dropping her head into her hands. "You just had to make a point last night, didn't you? Plant one on her, then walk away like it was no big deal. Oh, yeah, that worked."

Maggie threw herself back down on the bed. She hadn't slept at all the previous night, reliving the kiss she had laid on Bianca over and over again. It was just the look on Bianca's face, Maggie could tell she just wanted to kiss her goodnight but was still trying to stick to her "no pressure" policy, despite all they'd talked about in recent days. She just stood there, looking so adorable that Maggie couldn't take it any more. She marched right up to Bianca, took her face in her hands and caught her lips in a kiss that probably would have killed a weaker person. Then, despite her knees having turned to Jell-O, she turned and walked casually into her own bedroom, leaving Bianca standing stunned in the hallway.

Of course, her legs practically buckled underneath her once she entered her room and she was very grateful Bianca hadn't seen that. So she'd tossed and turned all night long, thinking about the kiss and how kissing Bianca affected her. And about how much she really enjoyed kissing Bianca.

Maggie grabbed the pillow again and screamed into it one more time.

After another hour of tossing and turning, and then finally dozing off for 15 minutes, Maggie got up, got dressed and got the hell out of the apartment. Because of the parade that would begin at 10:00 a.m. on the Champs Elysee, she took a different route on her run, heading down Avenue Raymond Poincare toward Place Victor Hugo. Looming in front of her, she could see the Palais de Chaillot at The Trocadero and beyond that the Eiffel Tower. The city seemed to be a little quieter this morning as people recovered from Bastille Day eve festivities and prepared themselves for the massive party the country would throw today. Some cafés were already open, hoping for early morning patrons before the next party began.

After stopping at a small bakery for breakfast pastries, Maggie made the jog back to Avenue Foch from Rue Spontini, then entered the building, tired from her run, but still as tense as before.

Once the coffee was going and Miranda was changed and dressed, Maggie headed into Bianca's bedroom. She came to a stop when she saw Bianca asleep in bed, her back to the door. Cripes, Maggie thought, she's asleep! I couldn't sleep! How could she be asleep?! Damn, damn, damn! I'm over there going nuts and she's in here actually sleeping! She suddenly wished for a pillow to scream into.

Meanwhile, across the hall…

Bianca heard the front door open and knew that Maggie was heading out for her morning run. She rolled over and checked her bedside clock and saw that it was just before 6 o'clock. Wow, Maggie headed out a little early today, she thought to herself. I'll bet she slept great after that little stunt she pulled last night, all smug and smartassed. Give me a kiss like that, then just walk away. Little brat...

Unable to sleep for more than 20 minutes at a time all night long, Bianca threw her arms over her face and let loose a huge sigh. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Maggie. Maggie as she slipped out of Miranda's room so as not to wake the sleeping baby. Maggie as she rolled her eyes, Maggie as she took hold of Bianca's face and kissed her like there was no tomorrow, Maggie pulling back and giving Bianca a devilish wink, Maggie wishing her a good night and disappearing so nonchalantly into her own room.

"Aarrgghh!" Bianca groaned, rolling over yet again to try to find a comfortable position to catch even a few minutes sleep. Left side? Nope. Right side? Huh-uh. On her stomach with a pillow over her head? Other than the lack of fresh air, that might work… She sat up and beat one pillow into submission, then flopped down again. "Oh, my God!" she exclaimed in exasperation. "Stop acting like a 13-year old with your first crush!"

Eventually, she did drop off to sleep, but snapped awake when she heard the front door open again. "Calm down, Bianca," she said to herself. "Relax, breathe." She heard Maggie in with Miranda and panicked just a little bit. Quickly, she straightened the sheets on her bed, flopped over onto her right side so her back was to the door and pretended to be asleep. Behind her, there was a long moment of silence.

"Okay, little one," Maggie said softly. "Let's go see if there are any really bad French cartoons on TV, it looks like your mommy is still asleep."

Bianca almost panicked, thinking she wouldn't be awakened by her daughter and- and what? Best friend? Love of her life? Soul mate? She rolled over quickly, pushing her thoughts aside, intending to fully re-visit them at another time.

"I'm awake," she said, sitting up to see the two of them standing in the doorway. "See? All awake. Bright-eyed and bushy-tailed." Maggie gave her a look. "What?"

"Nothing," Maggie replied, heading toward the bed. She kicked off her sneakers, sat Miranda down and climbed onto the bed next to Bianca. She saw dark circles under Bianca's eyes. "Are you okay?"

"Sure," Bianca replied, more than a little flustered. She chalked it up to a serious lack of sleep. Then she noticed how tired Maggie looked. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

"Sleep okay?"

"Like a baby. You?"

"Oh, yeah, the same."

Liar, Bianca thought.

Well, that's a load of crap, thought Maggie.

Miranda crawled up into Bianca's lap and promptly started to chatter away. Halfway through her monologue, she looked up at Bianca.

"Momma," she said then went back to her baby monologue.

There was stunned silence as both Bianca and Maggie tried to assimilate what they just heard. Miranda, for her part, just smiled. "Momma," she said again.

"Okay," Maggie whispered. "I know you heard that."

"So, it wasn't just me."

"No, I think Miranda just said her first word."

Bianca laughed. "On Bastille Day. At least we'll always remember when it was."

Maggie picked Miranda up, holding her close. "Did you just say 'Momma'?" she asked, giving the baby a little hug. "I know you did. Yes, I know you did!"

Miranda sensed she's done something quite wonderful. "Momma!" she said again. Both Bianca and Maggie laughed, enjoying this new moment to treasure. "Momma!"

There were tears in Bianca's eyes as she watched Maggie and her daughter laughing and repeating Miranda's first word over and over again. Well, she thought suddenly. At least it wasn't Merde. That made Bianca laugh a little through her tears.

Maggie looked up and met Bianca's eyes. Tears were running down Maggie's cheeks. "Thank you," she whispered.

"For what?" Bianca replied, puzzled by the declaration.

"For letting me be here for this."

Bianca smiled. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

"Me, either."

After breakfast, they all got cleaned up and headed up to the Champs Elysee for the military parade. It was predicted to be a warm day with temperatures reaching into the 80's, so Maggie dressed Miranda in the new Bastille Day t-shirt and shorts she had found for her on one of the many shopping excursions the girls had made. Both Bianca and Maggie also opted for shorts, but Bianca chose a pale pink LaCoste polo while Maggie went with her traditional tank top over t-shirt look. After loading up the diaper bag with everything they would need for the day, including several bottles of Evian, they were off.

They decided to stay on the south side of the Champs Elysee for the parade, since there were a several street festivals they wanted to see before finding the big carnivals in nearby parks, and managed to find a spot relatively close to the barricades along the curb.

"I don't think we should stay for the whole thing," Maggie said as they settled down and waited. "The picnics start about noon."

"Picnics?" Bianca asked, a puzzled look on her face.

Maggie shook her head. "Good grief, Bianca, did you do no research on France before you moved here?" she asked in amazement. "The Bastille Day picnic. It's one of the largest picnics in the world. All we need to bring is a bottle of wine and a couple baguettes and we're invited. Everyone shares their food and it's a big party."

"Where do you learn all this?"

"Uh, hello, the Internet." Maggie rolled her eyes in amazement. "And everyone thought you were so bright."

Miranda had fallen asleep as they waited for the parade to begin, but once the French Army and it's tanks began rolling from the Arc de Triomphe on their way down the Champs Elysee to the Place de la Concorde, she woke up to enjoy the colorful uniforms, sights and sounds. This year featured British soldiers for only the second time ever, plus cadets from West Point.

Jet fighters from England and France flew down the length of the parade route, releasing plumes of red, white and blue smoke from their tails. Military marching bands played La Marseillaise, causing Miranda to laugh and clap with glee. Several police departments from different areas of the city made their way down the Avenue between bands. A couple of handsome policemen walking close to the curb caught sight of Bianca and smiled at her. One went so far as to wink and make his way over to where they sat, using the pretense of shaking other parade-watchers hands. He took Bianca's hand in his and gave it a lingering kiss.

"Boy, are you barking up the wrong tree, pal," Maggie politely informed him.

Not understanding, he gave Bianca another wink and continued on. But both girls noticed that after he left them, he did not attempt to shake anyone else's hand.

"That was interesting," Bianca said to Maggie, as they rose to their feet. They decided they would leave the parade at this point and find some of the street festivals they'd heard so much about.

Maggie shook her head. "First Pine Valley, now France. Does every man in the free world hit on you?"

"Only the ones with taste," Bianca replied cheekily.

Instead of heading back down Avenue Foch toward their apartment, they started down one of the smaller streets that branched off from the Arc de Triomphe's infamous roundabout. Not a quarter of a mile from where they had been watching the parade, a small street had been blocked off from one end to the other. The street itself was crammed with people, tables, and vendors carts. Maggie bought a huge palmiere cookie for Miranda and two Croissant au Chocolat for Bianca and herself, and they munched on the sweets as they took in the sights. People sang and danced, drank and laughed, ate well and often.

They continued on to another street festival, and yet another, before the "official" time for the picnic began. Bianca had purchased a bottle of wine from a street vendor while Maggie found a bakery. They decided to add a wheel of Brie to their offering and found another street party in which to join in. Miranda was taking it all in with wide-eyed fascination as they found a table to sit at.

"Bon jour!" the older gentleman at the table called out as they sat. " Join us, join us! Oh, what a beautiful baby, " he said, smiling at Miranda. He looked up at Bianca. " Is she yours? "

"Oui," Bianca replied. "Merci."

He gave her a wink. " You have a beautiful family, " he said, his smile taking in both Miranda and Maggie. " Very beautiful! "

"Merci," Bianca said again, returning his smile with one of her own. " I think so, too. " She looked up and caught Maggie watching their exchange, a happy smile lighting her face. "Did you catch any of that?" she asked the blonde.

"Yeah, I caught it," Maggie replied. Her eyes danced. "I'm starting to understand this language a little bit more as time goes by." She reached for her wine glass and held it up. "Bonne Fête!" she exclaimed.

"Bonne Fête!" everyone at their table shouted.

Glasses clinked against glasses and everyone drank. Maggie touched her glass to Bianca's then winked at her as they sipped their wine. After a squeal of disagreement for leaving her out of the festivities from Miranda, both Bianca and Maggie touched their glasses to her sippee-cup then laughed as the little girl drank her juice and giggled.

After everyone had eaten, Maggie picked Miranda up out of her stroller then took Bianca's hand in hers. They made their way into the midst of the makeshift dance floor and joined the rest of the party-goers in dance after dance. Bianca lost track of how many times she was spun around, hugged or kissed on the cheek and she could see that Maggie and Miranda were experiencing the same fate. They laughed as they managed to meet back up in the middle of the crowd as a slow waltz began to play. Still holding Miranda on her hip, Maggie slipped her other arm around Bianca's waist as they began to sway to the music.

Bianca felt her heart swell as she watched Miranda lay her sleepy head on Maggie's shoulder, so sweet and trusting. "She loves you," she said softly, holding Maggie and her daughter in her arms.

"I love her, too," Maggie replied. "She's part of my heart." She smiled up at Bianca. "Just like her mom."

Unable to speak over the lump in her throat, Bianca simply pressed a kiss to Maggie's forehead as they continued to dance.

When the song ended, they put the sleeping Miranda back in her stroller and headed off in search of another street party or carnival or whatever they could find. Down every street there was some sort of party going on, or a café had set up tables in the street to entice customers to sit and sample their foods. Firecrackers went off continuously, but they never seemed to disturb the sleeping baby.

"I think that's what they call the sleep of the innocent," Bianca said as they sat on a bench in a nearby park, relaxing by themselves before starting up on the afternoon party circuit.

"Man, she's out," Maggie agreed, checking on the little girl. "Amazing. Actually, she sleeps just like her mother."

"What? How so?"

"Well, let's see. Arms flung out wide, mouth open and drooling, dead to the world. Oh, yeah, just like Mom."

Bianca gave Maggie a look. "The minute she starts to snore, we know she's starting to take after you."

"At least her pillow will be dry."

After taking some time to relax, the girls went in search of one of the many carnivals they'd heard of in various parks around the city. Miranda, well-rested from her nap, was wide awake for the rides, clowns and fireworks. As evening drew near, they decided to go home and change for the fireworks display that would take place around 10:30 that night near the Eiffel Tower. Since the temperature had a tendency to fluctuate dramatically in Paris, they swapped their shorts for jeans and grabbed some jackets, then made the walk from the apartment down to the Trocadero and across the River Seine to the Champ-de-Mars.

"Oh, good," Maggie said, finding them a small patch of grass. "We can sit here."

She laid out the blanket they'd brought along and they settled down to wait for the big show. Miranda played happily with some toys Bianca had grabbed, while she and Maggie enjoyed watching the people around them. As dusk fell, the lights that lit up the Eiffel Tower became more intense. For this day, the Tower was fully lit in bright white lights, standing out like a spire reaching majestically into the night sky.

Bianca sat Indian-style on the blanket and smiled as she watched her daughter play with a plush Elmo doll and talk animatedly to herself. Maggie leaned close to the little girl and joined in her play, matching her with more chatter and laughter. Miranda looked up at Maggie and laughed, reaching out to pat her on the cheek. Maggie caught the chubby little hand and kissed the palm, then blew a raspberry into it, causing Miranda to giggle wildly.

Tears sprang to Bianca's eyes as she took in the scene. No one was better with her daughter than Maggie. She was patient, attentive and loving, showing interest in everything the toddler did. Bianca was sure that when Miranda was coming home with finger-painted pictures from pre-school, Maggie would patiently listen to the story she told about the picture then hang it with pride on the refrigerator. She was as much a mother to Miranda as Bianca was.

Raising her face to the night's sky, Bianca felt her heart expand in her chest. If she wasn't already hopelessly in love with Maggie Stone, watching her take care of Miranda would have surely stolen her heart away.

"Hey," Maggie called, concerned by the look on Bianca's face. "Everything okay?"

"Yep," Bianca assured her, her eyes locking on Maggie's. "Couldn't be better."

Maggie's brow furrowed in doubt. "Are you sure? You had a really odd look on your face for a second there."

Bianca gave her a genuine smile. "I assure you, things have never been better than they are right at this moment in time."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Sure?"

"Sure."

"Positive-?"

"Maggie." Bianca rolled her eyes, then laughed.

Maggie looked like she wanted to say something more, but suddenly, the sky in front of them lit up with fireworks. Quickly moving closed to Bianca's side, Maggie pulled Miranda into the small space between them so they could watch the spectacular.

The wide night sky directly behind the Eiffel Tower became a giant canvas of colors as huge starbursts of fireworks exploded. The crowd roared its approval as brilliant greens, reds, golds and blues turned the night into the brightest of days. It was a non-stop display that had everyone holding their breath in anticipation for the next incredible volley. From low on the horizon to well above the antennas atop the Tower and from one side of the Trocadero to the other, the sky was completely filled with the colorful pyrotechnics in a non-stop fashion. Before one massive starburst faded, two more had blossomed in its place. The sheer spectacle took their breath away.

Between them, Miranda giggle and clapped her little hands, her eyes sparkling as she watched one explosion after another. Laughing and pointing, she looked up at Maggie and grinned. Maggie leaned down and kissed Miranda on the top of her head, giving her a little squeeze that delighted the little girl.

When Maggie looked up, she saw Bianca watching them, the same look on her face that she'd worn earlier. In that instant, Maggie recognized the look and realized there was nothing odd about it. She was sure she'd worn that very same look on many occasions, when watching Bianca with her daughter, or when she simply watched Bianca. Love. It was just that simple. It was love.

Still holding Miranda's hand in hers, Maggie leaned over and captured Bianca's lips with her own, kissing her with all the love and passion she'd been harboring for what seemed like far too long. Bianca didn't think, she just responded, returning the kiss with all she had, her heart soaring in the knowledge that this was truly happening. For both of them. Lips caressed, tongues danced and fireworks lit the sky above them.

By the time they returned to the apartment, it was well past midnight. Bastille Day was over but the city still partied. Fireworks could still be seen in the sky as celebrations continued. There was plenty of music filling the air and street festivals were still going strong.

Miranda had fallen asleep in her stroller on the walk back, finally worn out from the day. Bianca went to put her to bed while Maggie retired to the balcony with a bottle of wine and a couple glasses. Bianca joined her a little while later, reaching for her glass where it sat on the table. She reached out and touched Maggie's hair, running her hand down to the smaller girl's back before leaning against the railing next to her.

"You know something, Stone," she said, taking a sip of wine. "You are a pretty incredible date."

"You think so?" Maggie replied with a laugh in her voice.

"Oh, yeah."

"Well, thank you, you're pretty fantastic yourself. But surprisingly enough, you're low maintenance." Maggie shrugged. "I would have expected more from Erica Kane's daughter."

"What?!" Bianca replied, laughing.

"Seriously, I would have thought only the best champagne and caviar, but you're just as happy with a passable bottle of red wine, cheese and a baguette or two."

Bianca chuckled. "Actually, I prefer the passable red to champagne any day. And I'm not big on fish eggs. Too salty for my tastes." She shuddered delicately. "Actually, a couple of those Croissant au Chocolat and I'll do just about anything you want."

"Really?" Maggie responded. "Hmm, that's good to know…"

They both laughed, then fell silent, enjoying the simple presence of each other. Maggie looked up and saw the Eiffel Tower in the distance, still glowing brightly in the night. She closed her eyes and raised her face to the sky, gently pressing her shoulder to Bianca's.

"Maggie," Bianca murmured, looking over at Maggie's upturned face, "what was with that kiss? Right there in front the entire population of Paris on the Champ-de-Mars? You do realize that was a serious PDA, don't you?"

Maggie took a sudden interest in her wine glass. "Yeah, I know. But I hardly think it was the entire population of Paris. That park is kinda small, it would be hard for everyone to fit-"

"Quit stalling," Bianca cut off Maggie's rambling. "Spill."

"Okay," Maggie said. She set her wine glass on the table and shook her hands nervously. "Here's the thing. I really like kissing you, Bianca. You. I never would have even thought about this back in Pine Valley, I probably would have been terrified to admit such a thing. But here... well, here it's different."

"How?" Bianca asked.

"The French, they don't care," Maggie told the taller girl. "They don't look at us like we shouldn't be thinking that way. That we shouldn't enjoy holding hands, hugging… touching. Kissing. It's all natural to them, to be so affectionate with each other.'" She turned and paced across the balcony, then came back to Bianca's side. "Since we came back from Vaux le Vicomte and kissed each other, I can't even remember what it felt like to kiss anyone else. It's almost like I never have kissed anyone else. Kissing you, I don't know, it just feels right. It feels natural, like that's the way it's supposed to be when you kiss the person you love. It's been so liberating to be able to be free with what I kept buried for so long." She gave Bianca a sideways glance. "Does that make any sense?"

"It makes perfect sense," Bianca assured her, setting her wine beside Maggie's.

"Good, because I'm completely confused."

"Oh, no," Bianca replied with a shake of her head. She pinned Maggie against the balcony railing, one hand gripping the wrought iron on either side of the smaller woman. "You said no more confusion, remember?"

"What-?" Suddenly, Maggie grinned, remembering her confession on the balcony the very same night they kissed each other for the first time. "Oh, yeah... I did, didn't I?" Smiling in the moonlight, she slid her hands up to Bianca's shoulders. "Trust me, I'm not confused about that."

"Good."

"It is good, isn't it?" Maggie said, as she felt Bianca's lips brush against hers. "Yeah, it's very good."

"And it's about time," Bianca whispered.

Maggie cocked her head. "What's about time?"

"That the French finally repaid a debt and liberated an American for a change."

Before Maggie could respond, Bianca kissed her. They were immediately lost in each other, arms holding each other close, the embrace speaking of the love they felt. The kiss was deep and slow, building with passion as each second passed.

Overhead, more fireworks exploded.

TBC-