A/N: Thank you so much for the reviews--and I'm so happy to see people subscribing for chapter/story updates! I hope that the following chapters do not disappoint =)

*Mishegoss- odd/crazy situation*

*Ferdrayt- mixed up, confused*

Story by Miko1725--I do not claim to own any of the characters or original storylines from the show. Thank you, and happy reading!

Matchmaker, Matchmaker:

The Fates at their Loom

It had been a rather dark and dreary day, one that really left him regretting the decision to deny her the town car. Granted, the outing was for her pleasure, her entertainment--but the sun had been out then with no indication of impending weather changes. Putting out the cigar, Maxwell turned and headed back into the theatre. Why the bloody hell did she always do this to him? Certainly he had no reason to feel like the bad guy--it was an event strictly for the Broadway community and their immediate families. Still… had he the choice, he would gladly have her there.

"Mr. Sheffield sir, while you were out there was a phone call for you." The young assistant handed him a slip of paper and rushed back to the stage:

Mr. Sheffield--please call home at your earliest convenience. It pertains to your meeting tomorrow with Mr. and Mrs. Porter. --Niles--

Odd… it must be important if Niles was bothering him about it at the theatre…

"Sheffield residence."

"Niles, it's me. You have a message from Sheldon Porter?"

"Oh yes sir, he called not a half-hour ago. Seems they want to move the dinner back to eight… they have reserved another table under their name--shall I cancel your original seven o'clock reservation?"

"Yes, of course. Thank you."

Niles placed the phone back on the table and resumed his work, a small smile on his face. It was odd… he didn't even remember the phone ringing and yet Master Brighton had appeared out of nowhere with the message. He turned to the boy who was lounging on the couch while thoroughly engrossed in his video game:

"Oh, Master Brighton, did you by chance cancel that seven o'clock reservation for your father yet?"

Brighton smirked but never removed his eyes from the small screen: "Oh yeah, it's taken care of--and good thing too! What with Mr. Porter changing the meeting time and all…"

"Yes… that is quite the coincidence."

Fran rushed up the townhouse stairs, droplets of rain clinging to her dark hair. Boy was she gonna give Mr. Sheffield a piece of her mind when he got back! If he'd just let her have the town car she could have been home an hour ago. Their fight the other day was the cause of all this mishegoss--he was like a spoiled child after being disciplined: vengeful and feisty. On any other occasion there was no way he'd have let her leave the house without transportation, even without her asking. He was a good friend to her, but when they fought… Oy. This time had been particularly bad for the simple reason that she wasn't angry--she was tremendously hurt, and a tad ferdrayt. Some how it had always seemed that she wasn't just an employee: he was always shelping her to premieres and events; holding her on his arm; treating her as a date. It had only seemed natural he'd want her there with the family Saturday night… but instead, she'd be sitting at home in front of the television with a box of Mallomars. Her hand rested on the interior door a moment longer before she finally entered the foyer.

"Ah Ms. Fine, welcome ho--my goodness, get in here before you catch a cold!" Niles rushed

over and quickly took away her drenched coat. "Get out of those wet clothes this instant!" She shot him a crooked smile and raised her eyebrow. "You know what I mean."

"Niles, is that Fran?"

"Yes Miss Margaret. She's just on her way upstairs to dry off."

"Oh… well, I can tell her about the mysterious guy that phoned for her later."

Fran, who by this time was rounding the corner at the top of the stairs, flew back down to the foyer like Barbara was there. She grabbed Maggie by the shoulders and shook her : "what guy, who called, did he leave a number? A message? An address? TELL ME!"

"Fran, Fran!" Maggie grabbed Fran's shoulders and steadied herself. "He's a secret admirer--didn't leave his name. But-BUT he did leave a message. I wrote it down word for word!" Fran nervously took the note from the teenager.

Fran-

I have admired you for some time and now I simply must get to know you better. Please, do me the honor of joining me for dinner at the Rainbow Room tomorrow evening for a night you'll (hopefully!) never forget. Reservations are at eight under the assumed name "Porter."

"Oh my God, that is so romantic!"

"Uh huh, now you know why I wrote it word for word! He must be something…"

"Yeah yeah, I just hope that it isn't one of Brighton's overly-hormonal classmates this time!"