Author's note: I realize that this fandom is almost non-existent on here, but I had the urge to write some Fran/Maxwell fics and thought I'd post them for the ten readers that are around. This is actually the second story I came up with and I wasn't even sure about going through with it because it is smutty (smut warning here) and I haven't written that in years and even then it was minimal. Then I said screw it because I was having so much fun with this idea and we all know that those characters got slutty once they were together which they didn't show us enough of. If it's not already obvious, this alternate reality takes place during/after "Strange Bedfellows". Please drop a review with your thoughts and if you would like me to continue!
Maxwell hurried into his bedroom, shutting the door behind him and leaning his back up against it. He took a deep breath, thinking through what just happened. Was he reading too much into this? Just because he sang 'Georgie Girl' doesn't necessarily mean that he had sex. Though he could have sworn when he peeked around the corner that he saw Miss Fine scratching her ear, the same after sex quirk that she had told him about this morning, but that could have been purely coincidental. If they actually did have sex at least one of them would remember it, wouldn't they?
He arched his eyebrow, trying to recount his memories from the night before. He wasn't the type of guy to go for a one night stand. But then again, he wasn't himself last night either. He was on so much cold medication that he hardly remembers getting into bed, let alone what he might have done if he woke up with a beautiful woman beside him. Still, if they had really hooked up then there would be more signs than just singing a song and itching an ear. Wouldn't there?
Down the hall Fran sat at the chair in front of her vanity, shaking her head in disbelief. Why did her ear have to itch? And why did he have to sing that song? She admitted to herself that he sounded pretty sexy doing it, but that was beside the point right now. Is it possible that she had casual sex with her boss of nearly two years? She knew there was sexual tension there, that was clear to everyone at this point, but she knew that Mister Sheffield was far too proper to make a move on her that quickly. Of course, he did mention that he was pretty doped up on cold medicine and even he was unsure if anything had happened between them when they discussed it.
This was crazy, there is no way they really had sex. With a wave of her hand she decided to stop fixating on what could have happened when she should be getting ready for bed. But then again, she was a multitasker. She could get ready for bed and have an existential crisis at the same time, she sure had the experience in that regard.
She reached over onto the desk and grabbed a hair band, pulling all her hair back and tying it up before pulling out a makeup removal wipe from its pouch and gently started to clean away today's look. Once she got near her hair line on the side of her neck she rubbed harder, finding it tougher than expected to remove the color.
"What the-" Fran mumbled to herself, turning her head more to get a better look as she wiped a few more times with no luck. She moved the wipe away from her neck to get a better look, her eyes widening when she realized why it wasn't coming off. "Is that a- no, it can't be." She pushed her hair up more, looking over the red spot.
If nothing happened last night, why did she have a hickey planted on her neck? Her eyes were burning so bad this morning from the hangover she could hardly see to put on her makeup, so it was entirely possible that she had gotten it last night. That didn't mean that Mister Sheffield was the culprit. She did spend the night out partying with Mona and the other nannies, they could have ran into some guys and got a little frisky. That would explain it!
Although she remembered most of the evening before she got home pretty well and she didn't recall being with anyone else. She did however faintly remember that dream she had about Mister Sheffield last night. It wasn't the first sex dream she had ever had about him, but it was certainly the best one by far.
Fran flopped backwards into bed after deciding to just remove her makeup tomorrow, closing her eyes as she turned off to her side. She didn't remember her bed ever feeling this comfortable, not to mention the sheets felt like pure silk. She reached up and fluffed her pillow, getting more settled in as she got ready to drift peacefully off to sleep.
Moments later she felt the bed moving. Briefly she kicked herself for that last drink she had, not ready for the spins, then she felt an arm wrap around her body. She opened her eyes back up and looked straight into the eyes of the person beside her, both of them squinting a little back at each other.
"Wow, those pink squirrels sure knock a girl out fast." Fran said out loud, surprised.
"Miss Fine?" Maxwell asked, looking over her face.
"Y'know, you usually call me Fran in these dreams, but I'm kinda liking Miss Fine. It's kinkier."
"This is a dream?"
"What else would it be, silly?" She said, smiling at him.
Maxwell took his hand off her side, running it gently on her face. "I guess if this isn't real, I don't have to be afraid to tell you just how unbelievably gorgeous you are." He said, making her heart melt.
"Wow, your foreplay conversations are off the charts. I wish I could hear you say stuff like that outside of my subconscious." Fran said, watching him as his eyes went to her lips. She tucked them in, wetting them in her mouth before they both began leaning in slowly. They met in the middle, catching each other's lips in a delicate kiss. His hand moved slowly away from her face and onto her lower back, pulling her body closer to his as they deepened the kiss. She wrapped her arm around him, gripping at the soft material on the back of his pajama shirt as he began trailing kisses down her cheek and onto her neck. Her eyes nearly rolled back in her head as he started sucking at the bare skin just below her hairline, her favorite spot.
"Oh, Mister Sheffield!" She said, pleasure in her tone.
"Mister Sheffield." Fran said to herself, her mouth gaping open as she ran her hand over the red mark and remembered his lips on that exact spot. "It wasn't a dream."
Maxwell stretched his arms, his body feeling strained from what he assumed was the cold he'd been suffering through. He let out a tired exhale, pulling his robe off and tossing it on the end of his bed as he climbed on and got under the covers. He was exhausted and looking forward to this whole strange day to finally be over with. He moved around his legs, getting more comfortable.
"What is that?" Maxwell said to himself, feeling something balled up next to his foot. He sat up on his bed, reaching in his blanket till he felt the object. He pulled it out and looked it over, his eyes widening as it unraveled. His whole body froze as he looked over the black lacey pair of panties in his hand.
Maxwell rolled over on top of Fran with one smooth motion, grabbing onto her hands and pinning them against the pillow beneath her. He moved over and started kissing the inside of her wrist, following her arm all the way up to her shoulder and leaving wet tracks over her upper body. He let go of her hands when we felt her struggling to move them, worrying that he was hurting her. The moment he let go she moved them to the back of his head, gripping his hair as she pulled him back into a kiss. He felt her tongue tuck between his lips, opening his mouth wider to let her explore further.
He pulled away from her lips and set his elbows on the bed, leaning in and kissing her throat as he traveled down lower with each kiss. He slowed down briefly as he reached her chest, pecking at all the bare skin just above the smooth material on her nightgown. She moved her hands down his neck as he went lower, resting them on his shoulder as he pressed a final kiss on her lower stomach. He took his weight off of her body and reached a hand down onto her ankle, brushing it against her skin as he started sliding the end of her gown up her leg. He looked up and watched her as he did so, enjoying the way she nibbled at her lip as he reached her hips. He hooked his hand into the waistband of her underwear, tugging at them gently. Fran lifted up her lower body off the bed, letting him continue to pull them off of her.
Once they were all the way off he tossed them to the side, crawling his way back onto her and coming face to face with her again. He placed a few more kisses on her lips then pulled back, staring at her as her fingers slid under his waistband, slowly pulling down his pajamas and underwear till he sprung free. They both looked down between them a moment, looking back up at each other as she took a hold of him in her hand and slowly guided him into her. As he felt her whole insides covering him he buried his face into the crevice of her neck, moaning softly.
"Oh god, Miss Fine." He mumbled onto her with his hot breath.
"Oh god." Maxwell said, starting to finally process the memory. He hopped out of his bed quickly, shuffling around the room in a panic as he tried to figure out what to do with the pair of undergarments he still had clasped in his hand. He hurried over to a tall vase that sat in his room, dropping them into it. "Okay, that's better." He told himself, trying to calm down. "Yeah, Max, stuffing a pair of knickers into your vase definitely fixed the fact that you had sex with your nanny." He said, rolling his eyes at his own logic. He walked back over to his bed, sitting on the edge of it. "What did I do?" He said, resting his face in his palms.
Hours had passed and it was now closer to the morning than it was to the night. Fran couldn't sleep. Well, not that she couldn't sleep, more like she was avoiding sleep. The longer she laid there quietly in her bed, the more she remembered from her and Maxwell's adventurous night before.
As if it wasn't bad enough that she drunkenly slept with the man who employs her, she now had to be stuck as the only one of them with knowledge on what happened between them. How was she supposed to face him knowing what they did when he doesn't even have a clue? Was she supposed to tell him? She knew that if she were in his situation she would want to know, but she couldn't help but think about how painfully awkward that conversation would go. The man freaked out when she accidentally saw him naked. How was he gonna react if she told him all the things he did with her?
She needed to stop obsessing over this. Her alarm would be going off in a few hours and she wasn't the least bit sleepy, her racing mind preventing any tiredness from slipping in. She decided it was time to take a page out of her family's sleep remedy book, comfort food. Getting up out of bed, she grabbed her robe and put it on as she headed out of her bedroom and downstairs to the kitchen.
Downstairs she turned on a dim light, walking over to the refrigerator and opening up the doors. She had no idea what she even wanted. The only appetite she had after a whole night of remembering herself in bed with Mister Sheffield was not at all related to food. She bent down, digging through the bottom shelf to see if she could find anything that sparked her interest.
Maxwell crept quietly down the upstairs hallway, not wanting to wake anyone up as he snuck downstairs to get some tea and calm his nerves. He hadn't gotten a wink of sleep that night. All he could think about was the night before, how he somehow let himself hook up with the woman that he hired to take care of his children. Right now he needed to let that go, he could worry about it more tomorrow once he got some sleep. Tonight he needed to get his mind off of Miss Fine. He stepped slowly down the stairs, heading into the kitchen when he stopped abruptly in his tracks.
His jaw dropped, looking over the same body that he had gotten a much better view of the night before as she was perched forwards shuffling around some items in the fridge. Part of him contemplated turning around quietly and heading back up to his room, but the other part of him couldn't tear himself away. He took another step into the kitchen, ready to make himself known when she turned around.
"Oh my god." Fran said, jumping as she clenched the pack of bagels and cream cheese container in her hands.
"Miss Fine, I'm sorry." Maxwell said, feeling awful for spooking her. "I was just coming down to get some tea, I didn't mean to frighten you."
"It's fine, I'm fine." She said, suddenly going quiet as she couldn't think of anything else to say. "Wow, that's new.." She thought to herself.
"What are you doing awake at this hour?" He asked, walking over toward the counter as she did, watching her set her nighttime snacks down on the counter.
"I ah, couldn't sleep."
"You neither?"
"Guess it's just one of those nights." She said, looking away from him as she opened up the bagel bag and grabbed one out.
"Yeah, must be." He said, walking over to the cupboard and taking out a kettle to heat up some water in.
Fran glanced over at him a couple times as she cut open her bagel, watching how his eyes stayed on the faucet as he filled up the kettle. When he finally looked back at her she quickly looked away, setting both sides of her bagel into the toaster and putting them down.
Maxwell set his full kettle on the stove, turning it on before walking back over to the counter. He went into the drawer, pulling out some tea. "Do you want some? He asked, holding up the packet. She nodded slowly, answering him without a word. He pulled out another packet, looking back at her as she turned away shyly, his brow furrowing as he noticed the mark on her neck. As soon as he realized what it was his eyes widened, a tint of red forming on his cheeks.
Fran looked back over at him, wondering why he looked so surprised. She followed his eyes to her neck, putting together exactly what he was staring at. She turned the other way, pretending she hadn't noticed him noticing. He was about to say something when her bagel popped up, her hands shooting over to the toaster to pull them out, not caring how hot they were. She shuffled the halves around in her hands, not sure what to do with them at this point.
"Uhm, let me get you a plate." Maxwell said, hurrying to grab her a plate out of the cupboard and setting it in front of her.
"Thank you." Fran said, setting them down on the plate and wiping her hands off on a napkin. She reached over to the drawer near him and he flinched, taking a step back. "Sorry, I need a spoon for the cream cheese." She explained, opening the drawer and grabbing out a spoon. She looked him over as he stood beside her, wondering to herself why he looked so uncomfortable. All day after they had woken up together he acted fairly normal, but something was different now. She squinted her eyes at him as she put the spread on her bagel, zoning in on his facial expressions.
Did he look, guilty? She watched his eyes shift toward her momentarily, then he took a small breath as he looked away from her again. Yes, he looked guilty! If anyone could spot guilt a mile away, it was her. Was he really stressing this much over him singing and her scratching her ear? Or was he remembering last night too? Before she had a chance to say anything the kettle on the stove started to whistle and he rushed over to it, taking any opportunity to get further away from her.
Maxwell walked back over toward her hesitantly as she pulled two mugs off the rack for him to pour in and plopped both the tea packets in them. He avoided eye contact with her as he poured, setting the kettle down on a rag after both cups were full.
"Here you go." He said, sliding her cup across the counter and over to her.
"Thanks." She said, holding up her plate. "You want half a bagel?"
"No, I'm alright. Thank you." He said, all his words coming out so fast that they were almost grouped together as one.
Fran wasn't sure what he was thinking, but now she was dying to know if he was piecing together their night together the same way she had been. "Mister Sheffield?" She said, getting his attention. He looked over at her, sucking at his bottom lip nervously. "Are you still thinking about last night too?"
"Last night?" He questioned, a little thrown off by her bluntness till he remembered that she likely had no clue what happened still. "What about last night?"
"Y'know, us, together, in bed."
"Ah, I've thought about it a little bit." He softly replied, wondering if it was as obvious to her that he was lying.
"When you think about it, that would have been pretty crazy if something did happen between us." She eyed him as she spoke, watching the discomfort on his face. "Right?"
"Yes, given that you are my nanny, and I am your boss, it would be pretty crazy if something had happened between us."
Fran nodded, catching on to the fact that if she wanted him to admit he remembered too that she was gonna have to pull out more than just a casual mention of the possibility. "No, I actually meant that it would be pretty crazy considering you haven't been with anyone else since your wife."
"Wait, how-" He paused, looking over at her in shock. "How do you know that?"
Maxwell kept a slow but steady pace, pinching his eyes shut as he tried to think of something other than the fact that he was making love to the woman he'd been wildly attracted to since the moment he saw her perched with her cosmetics suitcase on the ottoman in his foyer the day they met. When he finally felt he had himself under control, he started kissing her sloppily. She didn't have the same worries on her mind, in fact she was ready to speed things up.
With one swift move she rolled him onto his back, staying pressed against him as she switched up their position. She bent her legs, straddling his body. He looked up at her as she smiled down at him, pulling on his shirt so he was sitting up face to face with her. She reached up and ran her hands through his hair, pulling him in for a hungry kiss as she started moving faster.
Maxwell rubbed both his hands onto her back, frantically moving them around and squeezing her closer against his body. He stopped kissing her and gritted his teeth together, doing everything to hold back from doing the one thing that he was sure she wasn't ready for quite yet. "Miss Fine." He said, trying to get her attention.
"Mister Sheffield." She said back, sounding more pleased than he needed to hear right now.
"No, Miss Fine, slow down." He said, grabbing her hips to stop the movement. "I'm sorry, just slow down a minute, please."
Fran looked him over, confused. "Is everything okay?"
"Yeah, I just-" He paused, looking her in the eyes. "I just need to go a little slower right now. I haven't been with anyone since, since-"
"Mister Sheffield." Fran stopped him, knowing he wasn't prepared to finish that sentence. "We'll slow down, okay? We can take it as slowly as you need to." She said, gently pushing her hand through his hair to soothe him.
Maxwell set his hand on her cheek, leaning in to kiss her softly as he maneuvered back on top of her and took control of the pace again.
"You remember?" Maxwell said, staring over at her desperately waiting for the answer.
"You remember too!" Fran said, getting the confirmation she was waiting for.
"When did you-"
"It's been coming back to me." She admitted. "I thought when I woke up it was just a dream, but then when I took off my makeup I saw, y'know." She pointed to her neck, getting the point across. "How did you?"
"Ah, well, I found your underwear in my bed."
"When I got dressed this morning, I wondered why I was going commando. That clears things up I guess." She said with a nod. "Do you still have them?"
"I shoved them in a vase."
"Any particular reason?" She asked, curiously. "Or is that just some British ritual I'm not familiar with?"
"I don't know, I just panicked. Now they are stuck in a hundred and sixty year old pot and I have no idea how to get them back out." He said, the both of them looking at each other and letting out a whole-hearted laugh.
Fran wiped the tears that formed in the lining of her eyes and shrugged. "Well, I've got my panties lost in worse places."
"Worse than being stuck in an ancient Greek vase?"
"If we dive into my past right now we aren't going to get any sleep tonight."
"A story for another time then." Maxwell joked. He looked over at her, for the first time feeling less uneasy about the whole thing now that he knew they could still laugh together. "Not to make this conversation more awkward, but do you know if we ah, did we use any protection? I don't remember, you know, doing that, and I couldn't find anything in my room when I looked."
"I don't think either of us thought about it."
"All right." He said, suddenly looking anxious again.
"Don't worry about it. I take birth control. And you don't have to worry about any diseases either, I haven't been with anybody since Danny. After how that all ended, I made sure to get checked right away and I was all clear."
"Okay, good." Maxwell said with a nod, then he paused a moment as he thought about what she just said. "Wait, you haven't been with anybody since before you lived here?" He asked, getting a head shake in response. "But you've dated quite a few men."
"Yeah, but I never slept with any of them."
"Wow."
"Wow? Don't act so surprised, it's not like I'm the neighborhood tramp or anything."
"No, I didn't think you were. I just assumed that after a couple years you would have wanted to be with at least one of those guys."
"I guess I just never felt that same spark with any of them. None of them made my heart beat faster just by looking at me, or take my breath away with their gorgeous smile, or kiss me with so much passion that I felt like we were the only two people left in the world."
"Like you felt with Danny?"
"Yeah, like that." She said, unconvincingly.
Maxwell wondered from her reaction if that was really who she meant, but he decided it was best not to get into that. "Well, I'm sure I don't have to tell you that you don't have to worry about me either."
"I figured as much." She said, both of them smiling lightly at each other.
"So, are we good?"
"Yeah, of course." Fran said, truthfully. "There was a lot going on and neither of us were in our right minds. We can just move past that all and pretend it never happened, chalk the whole thing up to a figment of our imaginations."
"That's probably best." Maxwell agreed, nodding his head as he glanced over at her. They both gazed into each other's eyes, not sure why it felt so difficult just to look away. He broke the contact, turning away and grabbing his mug off the counter. "I guess we should be getting back to bed."
"Not together though." She joked.
"No, not together." He replied with a chuckle. He started to walk away then stopped, looking back at her. "Miss Fine."
"Yeah?" She said, looking back at him.
"I'm sorry about last night."
"You don't have to apologize, we both were a part of what happened."
"No, I do." He said, taking a few steps closer to her again. "I may not have realized it at first, I did truly believe that it was some type of dream or fantasy, but the more I remember about last night, before we, before, I knew it wasn't. I felt things that I knew were real and I should have stopped us from going any further, but I didn't."
"You don't have to beat yourself up over it. I can't say for sure if I was fully convinced it was a dream or not, but even if I did know I don't know that I would have stopped it either. Let's just agree to let ourselves off the hook on this one."
"Very well." He agreed. "Goodnight, Miss Fine."
"Good night, Mister Sheffield." Fran said, watching him as he left the kitchen and headed back upstairs. She finished up her bagel then took her tea with her back to her bedroom. When she got into her room she set the mug on her nightstand, walking over to her black nightgown that was laying on the floor where she had lazily tossed it in the midst of her hangover this morning. She picked it up, getting ready to toss it in her hamper when she caught a whiff of a familiar scent. She lifted it up to her nose, taking in the aroma of his cologne that lingered on the garment.
Fran gasped for air as Maxwell rolled off of her and laid down beside her, trying to catch his breath as well. She was still trembling, the waves of her orgasm hitting like aftershocks throughout her body. She'd had pretty good sex a few times before, but this was on a whole other level. It wasn't just the raw heat between them and the desire for each other, but there was a deep passion and sense of comfort that allowed her to experience feelings that she hadn't had with anyone else.
Maxwell took one more deep breath before turning his head toward her, setting his hand gently on her chin and turning her head so that they were face to face. He admired her features, his eyes roaming around her face. She stared at him as he did so, her heart fluttering inside her chest. They both leaned in, kissing each other softly. They parted briefly, still close enough to feel their hot breath on one another's lips. At the same moment they opened up their eyes to each other, gazing affectionately.
He looked away, first shuffling around the blanket and pulling his pajama pants back up to cover himself. He shifted onto his side and set a hand on her waist, grabbing at her bunched-up gown and helping her pull it back down. She smiled sweetly at the gesture. She was used to guys ripping off her clothes beforehand, but she had never had one that cared about her afterwards.
Once they were all fixed back up he laid onto his back again, tucking his arm around her neck and pulling her closer to him. She wrapped her arm across his torso, laying her head on his shoulder.
"I hate that in the morning I'm gonna wake up and not be in your arms." Fran said, caressing his chest lazily as she began getting sleepier.
"Me too." Maxwell said, rubbing his chin against her forehead and placing a soft kiss atop her head. "We can enjoy it while it lasts though." He said, hugging her tighter before they both closed their eyes and savored their last awakened moments together.
Fran smiled to herself, moving the nightgown away from her face and giving it one last look before tossing it into her hamper. Maybe it was just some drunken mistake, but that night with him was more magical than any other night she had ever had. She kinda wished that it didn't have to be over already, but she knew that it was the right thing to do.
Knowing now that he hadn't been with anyone else in nearly six years because he was so destroyed by the loss of his wife, he was nowhere near ready to get involved with someone like her. At this point they were already close friends who lived together and were raising his children together, add in a relationship and they would basically be married right from the jump.
She walked over to her bed, getting on it and tucking herself under the covers. At least their conversation calmed her down enough to finally get some rest. Plus, if she was lucky, she would dream of him and be able to relive the moment. She closed her eyes, drifting peacefully off to sleep.