Author's note: Well I can't believe I'm writing about these two in the year 2025 but better late than never. I hope there are still some fans out there that enjoy this. This is my first fanfic in over five years and my first ever fanfic about them so please leave reviews. I don't own the characters. Another chapter is most likely on the way. I am also taking fic requests for scenes you'd like to see go another way or innuendos from the show you'd like to see... made good on... Anything to get these two into some spicy convos and situations. Simply PM me or drop suggestions in the review section.
"You know I'm absolutely so sick of this whole dating thing, Val. The next eligible bachelor who comes into my life, I'm just going to marry him," Fran rambled off as she took a sip of wine at the bar. Her phone rang as if on cue.
"Mr. Sheffield? Is everything okay?" She asked, concerned. "Just a few more hours and I'll be home to help you with that." Val raised an eyebrow at her. "Okay. Okay. Bye," Fran rushed off the phone.
"What were you saying about the next eligible bachelor and what are you helping that one with at this time of night?" Val wanted the details.
"Val! He's my boss!" Fran responded as if it were absurd. "He just said he wants my thoughts on some script. Something about that I may have some expertise in the subject matter."
"Your boss.." Val shook her head "That hasn't stopped you from telling me about a few dreams you had…"
"Those were just dreams, Val. Dreams… and I told you that in confidence!"
"Who can hear us?" She replied with a shrug.
"Good point," Fran said, taking another sip.
"So when are you going to switch this to a more personal relationship? I know you want to…" She nudged Fran with her elbow.
The thought had definitely run through Fran's mind more than once, she had to admit.
"And what if he doesn't reciprocate?" Fran asked.
"I see the way he looks at you, Fran. He'll definitely reciprocate… In all of the ways…" Val responded suggestively.
Fran raised an inquisitive eyebrow as she thought about all the ways she wanted him to touch her.
"So how are you going to do it and, most importantly, when?" Val pried.
"Oy, I don't know. In theory, it all sounds great, you know, but we've just been so close so many times and it just never happens. I don't want to be the aggressor. Have you met him? He's fragile, calm, repressed almost. I could scare the man away and then lose him altogether."
"Fran, like I said you can tell just by the way he looks at you that you're wrong. On. All. Accounts. I think he might surprise you when it does happen."
"Got any tips then if you know everything?"
"Well, actually you'll be going home right when all of the kids are asleep so I have a suggestion or two," Val said before whispering some ideas to her when the bartender wasn't looking.
"It's now or never. Do you want to know if he lives up to your dreams or do you want to say just the nanny forever? The choice is yours."
It was at that moment Fran knew a girls' night had been just what she needed. She smiled and grabbed her purse. "I'm going home," Fran said confidently and then scurried off to the limo Mr. Sheffield insisted she take tonight.
When she got home the lights were all off, she looked down the hall and found him where he always was - his office. She ran upstairs and slid into a tight red lace dress she had. Every time she wore red, Mr. Sheffield complimented her and almost turned red himself and this little number was sure to get his attention.
She marched downstairs as butterflies fluttered in her stomach as she thought about what she was about to do.
She took a deep breath before walking up and pushing the door all the way open as hard as she could.
Maxwell jumped a bit at the sudden intrusion as he looked up.
"Oh, Miss Fine, you startled me! I didn't even hear you come home. I thought you'd be a few more hours too." His gaze moved down her outfit and back up as she hung in the doorway smiling. That dress sure does make her breasts look… his eyes settled there.
Fran laughed. "My eyes are up here, Mr. Sheffield."
"I'm sorry…" He said breaking his trance away from her figure to look her in the eyes but then slowly returned his gaze back down to where the dress hugged her in all the right places. "Is that what you wore out tonight…"
He actually felt a sting of jealousy that he wasn't the first man to see her in this getup.
"What are you, the fashion police?" She said rolling her eyes, laughing inside at the effect she was having on him.
He laughed. "Well no, it's just…"
"It's just what?"
She waved her hand in front of his face to regain his attention. "And you were saying, Mr. Sheffield?"
"Oh, right. I'm sorry. I'm so glad you're home. I just wanted your opinion on something. You didn't have to come straight in here though. You could have changed into something more comfortable." He said sitting back in his chair, adjusting his glasses, and panning his glance to his paperwork.
She smirked and walked around the back of his desk and then sat on top of the desk cross-legged facing him. She normally sat on the front of his desk so she wanted to see his reaction. "It's fine. I'm plenty comfortable…"
He looked up at her again, shocked by her proximity. "Don't you think you're awfully close, Miss Fine?" If only he knew, she thought.
"I just wanted a good look at whatever you're trying to show me." She replied innocently, leaning in closer to get a look at the paper.
She was acting a little strange, he thought but didn't have time to inquire further.
"Very well," he said kind of nervously. "This part right here. What do you think about it?" He pointed and then handed her the script.
She grabbed the paper and scanned it, nodding as she read from the top. This story actually kind of sounded like them until she came to THAT, She then raised her eyebrows in surprise and looked back at him.
"Do you think it's a little too… risqué… for theater?"
"Umm, I think that's a little too risqué for even the movies they keep in the backroom at the video store, Mr. Sheffield," she joked, fanning herself. "I mean, is it hot in here or is it just me?" She was actually a little surprised he would give her something with such steamy details to read and she was known to frequently enjoy a romance novel.
"Well, I don't know about THAT," he chuckled before he sighed. "But you're right I don't think this script is going to do either." He took his glasses off and set them on the desk then threw the script in the trash.
She had never seen him throw away a script like that.
"Well, your work here is done, Miss Fine. Thanks for your opinion."
She was still a little shocked he asked her opinion of all people. As if he needed to know, people couldn't act THAT out on stage. "What on earth possessed you to ask my opinion on this particular script?"
"Oh, I've seen the steamy novels you keep on your nightstand…"
"Well, that definitely was hotter than even a Johanna Lindsey story…"
Her mind went back to how he just discarded it so abruptly and how he normally returned them. "Who sent that in?" She inquired.
His face suddenly got a little flush. "Oh, that's not important. We're not going to run it obviously."
Did he write THAT? She thought to herself. Was that really based on us?! Did he feel what she was feeling or had she had one too many drinks with Val…
"Mr. Sheffield! Is that YOUR script?" The words came out of her mouth before she could stop them but what else was new?
Now he turned a dark shade of red. "Of course not, Miss Fine. People submit scripts all the time, you know that."
"But you won't tell me who submitted that one…" she pointed out.
He had wanted her to get her worked up but not about this. Of course, she was one of the most frustrating people he knew, in multiple ways.
"Does it matter who wrote the bloody script?" He stood up to pace the room, sticking his hands in his pockets as she hopped off the edge of the desk to approach him.
That's when she knew he was lying.
"Well, usually, no. But now you're evading the question, so yes." She replied adamantly as she stopped him from moving about and stood in front of him.
"It's not important… but I must ask what did you think of the rest? Before that part…"
It WAS his.
"Oh well, I thought it was really good. I thought even THAT part was good. Just not very appropriate for theater…" she said with emphasis on the theater as she moved closer to him, making eye contact. "But somehow I think you already knew that…"
As their eyes locked together, he smiled, a little shocked at her candor. "Oh? So you liked that part, huh?" He asked, closing the gap between them. "You don't think he was too… aggressive…?"
Why was he doing this? Why was he saying this? Why was he looking at her like this? Why had he called her in here and showed her THAT? Her eyes searched for answers but she already knew.
"No, actually he seemed like normally he wasn't aggressive enough. Seemed like the kind of guy to really hide his feelings."
"But to just take her like that?" He said, grabbing her by the waist and pulling her closer as Fran gripped his shoulders.
"I think she likes being taken…" Her lips were just inches away from his as she gave him a knowing look. It was now or never. Maybe he wasn't as repressed as she thought. Maybe he was just looking for a sign. Maybe her response is it.
"Oh?" He smiled looking down at her. "But what if he doesn't measure up?" She had walked in on him in the shower and knew for a fact that was not a problem. "Somehow I'm sure that's not a problem he has…" She said pressing her body even closer to his and suddenly feeling that was in fact the case.
"And you're sure she likes being… taken like that… even if he were her boss…"
Her heart raced. She knew that was his script.
She could only weakly nod before dipping her down and kissing her passionately. Her fingers raked through his hair, including the greys he blamed her for.
All bets were off as their hands explored each other's bodies with urgency and he spun her around, backing her up against his desk.
