So the Sheffield household members ran around, shell shocked for the next few days. No one spoke to each other; only accusing glares were given to Maxwell by his children and Niles. If it were only Niles blaming him, he could handle it. But these were his kids who hated him, and therefore it was causing him to hate himself.

"What a glorious, beautiful morning," CC announced as she sprung in through the front door one morning.

"I see you met your quota last night," Niles commented as he pretended to dust the Tiffany lamp in the living room.

"What on earth are you talking about?"

"I only assume vampires can be happy after they've had their fill of fresh blood. Careful, Babcock, your fangs are showing."

She glared at him, then went to find Maxwell. She was shocked at what she discovered.

"Maxwell? Are you all right?"

He was disheveled, his head laying down on his arms on his desk. "Miss Fine, is that you?"

She stared at him. Sometimes she really hated her job. "Why on earth would you think I'm the nanny? I wear clothes that actually cover my knees, you know."

He sat up and stared at her closely. "Maybe you shouldn't'. Maybe wearing some of her clothes might suit you."

Was he serious? Was this his idea of a come on? She wanted him, but just not like this. "I see someone had a late night date with the vodka last night."

"Come on, CC. Join me for a nightcap, won't you?"

"A nightcap? Good God Maxwell it's eight in the morning and we have work to do. You have kids in the household, or have you forgotten?" Normally CC could care less about the whereabouts of the kids, but in this case, even she thought Maxwell needed to know the obvious.

"They're fine. Fine. Miss Fine. That's right, they are with Miss Fine," he stammered.

She walked to the kitchen. "A cup of black coffee, servant. Make it as strong as you can."

"Would you care for the additional spray of Windex as per custom?"

"Not now, Butler Boy. Can't you see that Maxwell is in trouble? Or are you still in denial about the nanny leaving, like the rest of the living dead around here?"

Niles eyed her carefully. "Fran. Her name was Fran."

"I know what her name was."

"Am I supposed to believe that? When you know the names of Jackie, Perry and Ginger oh so well?"

":Of course. If you have a point, make it."

"It is apparent that Mr. Sheffield is not the only oblivious one around here."

Now she was really growing irritated. "What the hell's that supposed to mean?"

"You come in here scaring the kids by your false bravado, your glee at Miss Fine's leaving rather transparent. Don't you have a heart, or did the Wizard refuse to grant your wish?"

Sighing, she grabbed the cup of coffee and took it to Maxwell. Who was Niles to judge her, anyways?

00000

Pierre, the clerk at the gallery at which Fran was now working at, was becoming a close and trusted friend. He was Canadian, and not hard on the eyes, which was a bonus. He'd welcomed Fran, took her under his wing, and the beginnings of a good friendship were starting to form.

"Who was he, Fran?" Pierre asked one day as they were hanging up clothes.

"Who's who?"

"The man you're in love with. The man you're running from. He must have meant a lot to you if you ran from New York to Ohio with no place, no money, no ideas."

"Please...I can't talk about him."

"Okay. No pressure of course. But I'm always here if you need a good ear to bend," he smiled as he warmly patted her hand.

She looked up at him in surprise. Pierre was attractive, but as long as Mr. Sheffield had free reign in her head and her heart, she knew that she could never move on.

"Thanks Scare...I mean, Pierre."

He shot her a questioning look, then went back to hanging up clothes, leaving Fran to feel even more alone than ever.