Chapter 4

When Fanny was angry, she liked to make noise. She would stomp and yell and listen to her music at ear-bursting volumes. The red-head paced around the room for a few minutes before spotting something and smiling. Her thick soled combat boots.

The boots had been a staple item in her teenage years, but she hadn't worn them since. One thing was for certain, those boots were LOUD. Fanny quickly laced them up. She was supposed to go over to Rachel's today and help set up for the party. She had to get all her anger out before heading over there.

Fanny stomped down the stairs slowly, her devilish grin growing larger with every step. Those boots were fantastic. She entered the kitchen to find Patton with an amused grin on his face.

"What up, Cadet Fulbright?" Patton laughed at his own joke.

Fanny narrowed her green eyes at him before turning away to get out the cereal.

Her husband stood up from the table and came up behind her. "Well, I'm off to work for a while. Have fun playing dress-up alright? Oh, and, by the way, the boots are nice. You should wear them more often." Patton whispered the last part into Fanny's ear making her shiver.

"Bye," she responded forcefully.

The front door slammed. She sat down at the kitchen table. Fanny realized she wasn't angry. This wasn't anger she was feeling, it was something else. Something that made her want to cry instead of yell. So she did.

Rachel sat with her head in her hands, the phone receiver cradled against her ear. There was no one on the line, but she found she could not put down the phone. The words cycled through her head like a song on repeat. Nothing we can do, nothing we can do, nothing we can do. They had given up on her little boy, her precious baby. The blonde woman found it hard to believe they had honestly done everything in their power. Palmer had taken so many tests, how was it possible that not one of them held any answers?

She put the phone back down on the hook. She didn't need them, Palmer didn't need them. Specialists? Please. They'd figure this out on their own. Rachel rolled up the sleeves of Nigel's button-up that she was wearing. She started cleaning the kitchen to get her mind off the phone call. Pointless activities had always helped when she needed to get her mind off things. Between the humming, the water spilling in to the sink, and the sound of a sponge on a dish, Rachel hadn't heard the door open. But she did hear her best friend stomp into the kitchen.

And she was wearing those God-awful boots. "Feeling nostalgic?" Rachel asked Fanny.

"I'm here so let's do this thing," Fanny ordered, ignoring her question.

Rachel just stared. She had been planning to wash dishes until her hand could no longer hold onto the sponge. If she tried to do anything else, she would end up thinking about the phone call. And that could not happen. Rachel could feel the tears welling up in her eyes. No, no,no! That wasn't OK. She looked to her side, there weren't any dishes left to wash. The sponge hit the bottom of the sink with a wet thud. And within seconds, Rachel was sitting on the hard wood floor.

"What are you doing?" Fanny asked. "I came here, on a Saturday, to help you with your husband's surprise party and you sit on the floor? I mean, seriously, Rachel…" She trailed off. "Are you crying?"

Rachel's hands hit the floor with a smack. "He's three years old, damn it! And he doesn't talk! Why won't he talk? Why can't they make him talk?" Fanny watched her friend dissolve into a puddle. She didn't know how to comfort people. Rachel's brown eyes that were usually filled with laughter looked at Fanny. "Why can't I make him talk?"

Fanny looked at the ridiculous boots on her feet. She tiptoed over to her friend and slid down the cabinet to join her on the ground. "Rachel, I think he'll talk when he's ready. You're doing everything you can. Sometimes, you just have to wait these things out," she said, hoping these words made Rachel feel better.

"You think so?" The blonde looked at her hopefully. Rachel was usually so hopeful about Palmer that Fanny had to wonder what had happened to make her lose it this badly.

"Sure." Fanny hoped that this would bring back her friend's strength. "Everything happens for a reason," she continued. "Even the bad things." Fanny ran a hand over her flat stomach. Even the bad things.

Rachel leaned her head against the other woman's forest green covered shoulder. "Thanks, Fanny," she breathed. Rachel paused for a few seconds then stood up. "So, we need to make the pasta and salad, set up decorations, wrap the gifts, go buy drinks, and clean the bathroom." She turned and looked at her red-headed friend. "That sounds like it, right?"

Fanny smiled. She was glad to see her friend back in "hostess" mode. But, she also smiled because, as usual, Rachel was completely forgetting about herself. Rachel had on a white button up that was much too large with pair of faded black shorts. Her medium length blonde hair was pulled back from her face with a hot pink bandana. Gray wool socks adorned her feet. Fanny looked her friend up and down. The once 'creatively' dressed little girl had become the exact picture of a housewife. "Yeah I think so," Fanny answered. "You look really cute today, Rachel."

Rachel glanced down at her outfit as if she didn't even know what she was wearing. She blushed. "OK, add changing my clothes to the list." Rachel smiled at her best friend. "And, by the way, I wouldn't be talking if I were you. I didn't know those boots had made it through college." She turned around and left the room before Fanny's face got any redder.

A/N: Just a pretty pointless Fanny/Rachel chapter. I kind of like it, except I feel like Fanny is a tad OOC. Meh. Anyway, the real juicy stuff should be coming soon. I know this because I already wrote it, that's my problem. I always get really excited and write those parts early and don't know how to fill in the rest.