For Mara, Delph, Deb, Steph & Kiki
Just fulfilling a request for a M/F fic!
N/CC fans – please don't stone me!

"An Affair to Dismember" – A Continuation

by

IvanaBgood
(IvanaBgood@aol.com)

"No, come back! Come back! – Owww!"

Fran dropped the flowers into the water as she watched the ship sail away. She struggled hard to keep her emotions in check, but one tear soon became three. Her lips trembled then shook with hurt and rage. She was angry at the ship for not waiting for her, angry at Max for not loving her the way she wanted him to love her and angry at herself because she knew she shouldn't have been here anyway.

"Fran, what's wrong?"

Her head was down, looking unseeingly at the water, as she held her throbbing ankle.

"Fran?"

Her eyes blinked, as if she was trying to tune her vision. The drops of tears that hung on her lashes blurred the man's face that looked at her in concern.

"Nigel? …Nigel! It's you… but you left! I saw the ship. I tried to catch it. I tried to be here on time."

"What's wrong, Fran? Are you hurt?"

Her hands clutched the back of his shirt tightly. He could almost feel her heartbeats as he tried to make sense of what was going on with the beautiful woman that he held in his arms.

"What is going on here?!"

The couple turned as one towards the enraged voice.

"Nigel, let go of her!" Maxwell's hand grabbed his brother's wrist and thrust it away.

"Mr. Sheffield? What are you doing here?"

"What am I… Miss Fine, I came home like usual. I stopped in the library to place my briefcase on top of my desk like usual… and I find this!"

Fran watched his white knuckled hand grasping the note she had left for him. She followed his suited arm and noticed the tremble in his body. His lips were in a grim line, his eyes… they looked so sad. So hurt.

"I-I didn't know what else to do."

"I want an explanation!"

"Don't shout at her!" Nigel stepped forward, pulling Fran to his side.

"We haven't fought since we were children, Nigel, and I seem to recall each time I bested you."

"You were bigger than I was then, Max, but now who's looking up at whom?"

The brothers stared at one another, their pupils darkened with hostility.

"No! Stop it!" Fran pushed them apart as they tried to grab at one another. "I said stop it!"

Maxwell took her hand and held it to his heart. Softly, "Miss Fine… I don't understand. I know that it has been a hectic week and that I haven't been able to spend much time with you. But the one thing, the only thing that kept me going through all the bureaucracies that I've had to endure to put this show together was you. The thought of watching one of those late night soppy movies that you are so fond of with you. To share a bowl of sinfully sweet ice cream. To watch your smile light up your face as you tell me another story about your family."

"Oh Mr. Sheffield," Fran choked out, "I love doing those things with you as well, but at night when I slip under the sheets of my bed, I feel so lonely. It hurts to see the love you have for me in your eyes and to know that that love you feel for me isn't the kind that a man feels for the woman he wants to spend his life with."

"You don't know that." Maxwell held her hand closer to his chest. "Miss Fine…" His eyes pleaded with her to go home with him.

"Does that mean, that you don't love me Fran? That you're just settling?" Nigel asked, the hurt in his face was palpable. His fingers wove in between hers.

Fran turned to him and gave him a wan smile. "Nigel, dear sweet Nigel. This past week was such a romantic blur. Dinners, dancing, … a proposal."

"A what?!" Maxwell looked at his brother murderously.

"You heard her. I proposed." Nigel then turned his eyes to the beautiful brunette. "Fran, I've fallen madly and deeply in love with you. I can see that you harbor feelings for my brother and perhaps they're deeper than the ones you have for me because you've known one another longer, but give me a chance. Say yes, say you'll marry me. We can have a long engagement, if you wish so that I can prove my love to you. So that I can convince you that I'm the better man."

Nigel fell hard against the cement, his forehead slammed into the hard concrete with almost as much force as the two punches Maxwell threw at him.

"Mr. Sheffield!" Fran looked in shock at him as he shook his hand in pain, then she stumbled towards the younger Sheffield and cradled his head upon her lap. Quickly she searched Nigel's jacket and found what she knew would be there somewhere and pressed the handkerchief against his bleeding lip.

"And then what happened?" Val asked, enthralled with the tale.

"Nigel got up and punched Mr. Sheffield. So now, one has a cut lip and a big bruise on his forehead and the other one has a black eye and a knot the size of New Jersey on the back of his."

"Wow! They fought over you, Fran!"

"I don't care about that, Val! Okay, I'll admit, having those guys go all Bluto and Popeye over me was thrilling, but most of it was frightening. And besides, I never did understand why they wanted Olive Oyl."

Val nodded in agreement. Then she looked confused. "I thought that big guy's name was Brutus?"

"You know, it was, but for some reason after a few shows, they started calling him Bluto."

They both shook their heads at the enormity of it.

"Yep," Fran sighed, "it's a mystery. Like when you butter a piece of toast and it always falls butter-side down. That is so annoying."

"Isn't it though."

They both nod their heads, until Fran realizes that their discussion went off kilter.

"Focus Val! What am I gonna do?" Fran wailed and sat on her mother's couch next to her best friend. "This whole thing with Mr. Sheffield and Nigel is terrible!"

"Oh yeah, very." Val intoned sarcastically as she bit into a potato chip.

Fran gave her a look of annoyance.

"Fran, you have two handsome millionaires who both want you so much that they're fighting over you. The closest relationship I have had lately is with Mr. Pringle," she shook the canister of chips at her friend.

Sylvia danced into the living room with a large book, covered with the best fake leather possible.

"So… we better start planning. Val is your maid of honor," Sylvia wrote a checkmark down, "and don't forget you promised your Cousin Ira that he could sing at your wedding."

"That was before he started curling his hair, Ma and crooning 'On the Good Ship Lollipop.'" Fran turned to Val, "We were 12 and he nailed walnut shells to the bottom of his sneakers. Then they cracked…" she shook her head, "let me just say that seeing a boy in a pinafore crying will ruin all Shirley Temple movies for life."

"And Yetta wants to do her impersonation of Bruce Lee before you exchange vows."

Her grandmother leaned in and said, "All I need is a couple of oranges and a cardboard. It's very romantic."

"Ma, what are you up to?" Fran lifted a page and peered underneath it.

"The first step towards mine and your father's retirement plan. Step one, marry a daughter off to a rich millionaire." She placed a checkmark next to the sentence.

"I don't know if I'm going to ever get married!"

Sylvia grabbed at her heart and sat stock-still, her eyes stared unblinkingly at the far wall.

"Oh my God, this is it! I finally gave my mother a stroke!" Fran grabbed Sylvia's shoulders. "Ma! Ma – are you okay?!"

Sylvia continued to sit zombie-like, her arms flopped to the side as her daughter shook her.

"Val – she needs a transfusion – quick!"

Her friend jumped up and ran into the kitchen.

"Hurry!" Fran yelled, almost hysterically.

"I'm trying, I'm trying, but it won't open!" Val ran back into the living room with a can of Yoo-hoo.

Fran took the chocolate beverage and after a couple of attempts, opened it. "Where's the flexible tube attachment?"

"Oy!" Val hurried and then scrambled back from the kitchen. "Here!"

Fran tore the Burger King wrapper off, placed the straw inside the drink and waved it under her mother's nose. A cheek twinged, lips pursed and everyone sighed with relief when Sylvia began to sip.

"What do you mean, you don't know if you're gonna get married?!" Sylvia yelled when she got her fill.

"I don't think Mr. Sheffield is ready to commit," Fran replied sadly.

"So marry the other one."

"Ma! I can't do that to Nigel."

"I thought you cared for him?"

"I do. He's funny, he's considerate. He's very romantic. But he doesn't make my insides twist with the sight of him." Fran sighed and the corners of her lips rose. "I love watching Mr. Sheffield's hands when he reads the paper in the morning. And every now and then when I walk by his room at night, I can hear him sleeping."

"Oh, oh, you've got it bad." Yetta commented. "When fingernails and snores can bring that kind of a smile to your face, that's it. Nobody else is going to do."

"Ma!"

"What?!" Yetta turned to her daughter.

"If we play our cards right, we can have lox and bagels for the rest of our life."

"Bah – who needs that?! Sure they're great when it happens, like when Sammy remembers to put the toilet lid down. But when you think about it, a good wet tuchus is a fast way to wake up in the morning."

Yetta nodded at her pearls of wisdom, not noticing the three pairs of eyes that gave her a look of distaste.

Val sat down and spoke seriously to her friend. "Fran, you need to think about all the decisions that you've made so far in your life. Each decision you've made has been a step down a certain path to your future. They can attach to one another and fall like dominos into a pile that just looks like a mess of dominos or they can topple one after another into a beautiful pattern of happiness."

Silence.

Fran took her friend's hand in hers and squeezed it. "Wow. That was deep."

Val nodded. "I thought so too when Captain Kangaroo said it to Mr. Greenjeans last week, just before the Flintstones cartoon came on."

"So what you're saying is that I've been going about it all wrong. I've been going on all these dates, with all these men, looking for happiness, when all along it's been down the hallway from me. Mr. Sheffield loves me, he told me so. He's just scared. And maybe he's scared because every time he knows I'm dating someone else, every time he sees me kissing someone else, it chips away at his esteem. It makes him feel unworthy and untrusting of me?"

"Uh… yeah," Val nods. "…What did you say after hallway?"

~*~*~

"I can't believe you hit me!" Nigel said carefully, his mouth swollen and purplish.

"You hit me after!" Maxwell growled, as he tried to glare at his brother with half an eye.

"Do I have to put you two in opposite corners of the playpen again?" Niles smirked as he brought them both tumblers of Scotch.

Maxwell took a quick swallow. "You tried to steal my nanny."

"Your nanny? What are you four or in your forties? Fran is more than a nanny. She's the first morning dewdrop on a beautiful cloudless spring day."

"Oh, don't wax poetic on me. What it all boils down to is that you made me think you were dropping in unexpectedly to visit me, but you had your sights on her all along."

"And I made you work late every night for a week as well, I suppose?"

"Maybe you did," Maxwell agreed stubbornly.

Nigel made a noise, something between a swear word and a huff of annoyance. He stood up and filled his empty glass with more Scotch. "I don't get it Maxwell. If you are in love with Fran, why didn't you tell me. Hell, why didn't you tell her?!"

"I have... I did," Max finished his drink as well.

"And…?"

"And I changed my mind," he sighed into his empty glass, tapping the bottom of it so the last piece of ice would fall into his open mouth.

"You… you what? You can't just change your mind. Emotions aren't a bloody faucet to turn off and on as you please."

Maxwell walked over to the bar and by passing the ice, filled his glass to the rim.

"Uh… sir."

"I know what I'm doing, Niles."

"Yes, sir." Niles hoped he had all the ingredients to make the hangover medicine in the morning.

"So then what happened? You told Fran you weren't in love with her anymore and you expect her to sit here day in and day out, taking care of your children?"

"Well, she is the nanny. That's what nannies do."

"Yes, but I've never seen you buy our other nannies flowers or ask them to accompany you to one of your plays," Niles pointed out as he shrugged with a what-the-hell attitude and poured himself a shot of whiskey.

"Right. I think we established the fact that I think of Miss Fine as more than the nanny."

"We did?" Nigel took a handful of nuts from the bowl. "Where was I when this happened? I think you just jumped to the end of the book and skipped a few chapters."

"You want to hear me say it don't you? Okay, I will. I love Miss Fine. I love Miss Fine. Fran, I love you."

"Shall I throw a dress over your brother so you can practice some more, sir?"

Niles and Nigel laughed when Maxwell scowled at them.

"What happened to you bro? You were never uptight about women before."

"I don't know. I never felt this way around Sara." At Niles and Nigel's astonishment, "Don't misunderstand. I loved her with all my heart and a day doesn't go by when I don't miss her, but the moment I set my eyes on Miss Fine was the moment my life changed."

They watched as Maxwell sank into the chair, his eyes alight with rapture as his thoughts deeply drifted towards a unique laugh, teasing eyes, and a body that made the heavens jealous.

"Maxwell?"

"Sir?"

Nigel looked at the wistful expression on his brother's face. "So that's what Thomas Jefferson meant when he said that happiness was tranquility and occupation." He shook his head and understood what he had loss even before he had it. "Maxwell!" his fingers snapped.

Max's eyes focused, "Hmm?"

Nigel sat on the coffee table and faced his brother. "You love her. Why would you pretend that you changed your mind?"

Worriedly, Niles watched his old friend close his eyes and sit there quietly, not answering the question.

The sound of the front door opening caught everyone's attention.

Nigel stood up hurriedly, "Fran!"

~*~*~

Maxwell and Fran stood awkwardly next to one another as they waved goodbye to Nigel as his cab drove away.

She thought about what he said before he left. He gave her a tender embrace and whispered in her ear, "Don't let him go. He needs you." And as he bent his head to softly kiss her cheek goodbye, he pulled away at his brother's glare.

He then gave his big brother a roguish grin, shook his hand and pulled him closer. "She needs you. Don't lose her."

And with a jaunty wave he was gone.

Not wanting to go in right away, Maxwell hurriedly tried to think of something to say to Fran that would keep her out there on the stoop with him just a little longer.

"Beautiful night." he rocked on his toes, his hands deep inside his pockets.

Fran looked up at the big round moon that seemed to be gazing down only at them. "Yes, it is."

Noticing her shiver as she crossed her arms to rub them, Maxwell immediately took his brown jacket off and placed it around her, the empty sleeves hung long and loose. They shared a smile as she quietly thanked him and he answered in turn.

After a few moments they both sat down and got comfortable on the cement steps.

"I'm sorry I ruined it for you and Nigel," he managed to say.

Fran turned and looked at him, her red lips parted to reveal bright, white teeth. "No, you're not."

Maxwell chuckled, "No, I'm not."

They both then looked at the many stars that dotted the sky, each in their own thoughts, and trying to figure out how to voice them perfectly to the other.

"Miss Fine-"

"Mr. Sheffield-"

They laughed.

"Go ahead," Fran nodded.

"No, please continue." Maxwell replied nervously.

"Okay." Fran took a deep breath, turned and looked into his eyes. "Nigel and I… we weren't right for one another. I mean, on the one hand he's all I thought I wanted in a husband. He's handsome, caring, successful, a great dancer…" Fran trailed off as she watched his eyes darken with jealousy, "but he was missing one elusive quality."

"And what was that?"

"I didn't love him."

Her eyes told him whom she loved and Maxwell felt like drowning into the deep brown depths that looked at him with such warmth and compassion, but all he managed to do was reply with a very quiet, "Oh."

His eyes then took in her profile as she looked back at the stars. Timidly, his hand reached for hers, until their fingers entwined. And his eyes closed at how good it felt to feel the physical connection. He then released a nervous breath and filled the silence with his confession.

"I know I hurt you terribly when I took it back," his voice cracked when he saw how sad she was. "It was insensitive and selfish of me and I do apologize. Perhaps I should explain my motives?"

At her nod, he continued.

"I felt like my world shattered when Sara died. One day she was here, gently chiding Brighton to finish his homework, making plans with Margaret to take her and her friends to the park, and telling me about the book that Grace finished reading with ease and then…" Maxwell's eyes glistened as he tried to continue. Fran's tender smile gave him the push he needed to go on. "And then she was gone. I was all alone." he swallowed with difficulty. "It's the worst feeling in the world to lose a loved one. I was bereft with grief. There was even a period when I drank a bit too much wine at dinnertime because it numbed the pain. If it wasn't for Niles and CC, I truly believe that the children and myself would be penniless and separated from each other through a court order. I neglected them so much."

His hand rubbed his eyes as he relieved that time in his mind. "As the days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months, life became bearable again. But the ache, the heart-wrenching despair of learning to be just Maxwell Sheffield and not part of Maxwell and Sara Sheffield, that was agony. And I realized that soon after I confessed my feelings to you that I was setting myself up for the same fate. We-we would love one another, be together, and make a life with each other and then one day it would be gone. You'll be snatched from me and…" he bowed his head, taking her hand in both of his, "I can't go through that again."

"You're scared of losing me when we haven't even become a couple yet?"

Maxwell nodded.

Fran gently touched his cheek, understanding this man who meant the world to her even more.

"You hurt me a lot," she admitted. "I began dating anyone and everyone to get back at you. I also thought that maybe if I kept going out that I might find someone that would make me forget my feelings for you." She gave his hand one last squeeze before releasing it. "We're both not ready for a serious relationship."

Maxwell looked at her, waiting for her to go on.

"Instead of concentrating on becoming a couple, why don't we slow things down. Get to know one another better?"

"That sounds like a fine idea," he smiled.

"And we're both free to see other people." At his frown, "If we truly are destined to be with one another, dating others will only enrich us and help us grown into our own person."

Grudgingly Maxwell realized that what she said made sense. "How did you get so wise, Miss Fine?" His warm smile filled her senses and his encircling arm took the bite from the night air.

"Many hours spent lying on the couch."

"Therapy?"

"Television."

~*~*~

As the months went by, Fran and Maxwell went on dates with other people sporadically. Most of the time, they spent their days and nights together. Either at home or on sociable outings as friends.

"Fran, there's a new club opening up that my cousin Eddie told me about, want to go?"

"Oh, I don't know Val," Fran replied as she took her Vinnie Barbarino glass from the cupboard. "Tonight is Scrabble night and I think I have a really good chance of beating Gracie this time. I've been bringing a dictionary into the bathroom with me all week."

"You rarely date anymore and I hate going out by myself to pick up guys." Val complained.

"I thought last time you went with Miss Babcock?"

"I did, but we ran into Niles and they spent the entire time arguing and throwing bar nuts at each other. It made me homesick so I left." Val sipped her lemonade. "So what's going on, are you and Mr. Sheffield a couple now?"

"No…" she replied slyly.

"You're keeping something from me! Come on, let me in on it! Did you meet somebody?"

"Yes!"

Val got all excited, "Who?!"

"Mr. Sheffield!"

Her friend's forehead furrowed in confusion, "You've fallen for his dad?"

"No! …Maxwell Sheffield." Fran grinned, "After six months of spending time with him and the children I've come to realize that I still love him and only him."

"That's great, Fran!"

"That's it, that's all you've got?"

"What – I'm being the supportive friend."

"Yeah, but I need the intuitive, gives great advice friend to kick in. No more good domino analogies?" At Val's look of surprise, "I know, isn't that a fantastic word?! I tell ya Val, you should keep a dictionary in your bathroom as well."

"Nah," she shook her head, "my dad will just think of it as fancy toilet paper." She took another sip. "And no more great advice. Captain Kangaroo got replaced with The Simpsons and I have a feeling that big blue hair isn't something that would turn Mr. Sheffield on."

"Then what can I do to convince him that life is full of disappointments, but it's also filled with hope and happiness? Life is not a crap shoot, but a checker board of choices."

"Wow, Fran – you should write for fortune cookies." Then her eyes lit up. "I think I may have an idea!"

Fran looked at her expectantly.

"Well, one time on The Simpsons, Marge began bowling with this guy and Homer got all jealous."

"Oh, I don't want to use someone to get Mr. Sheffield jealous," Fran propped her elbows on the breakfast table and rested her chin on her bridged hands. "Unless… I can use him to get himself jealous!"

"How can you-"

Fran turned to her friend excitedly, "Will you take the kids out to the movies tonight so that I can be alone with Mr. Sheffield?"

"Sure," Val replied in confusion.

"Thanks! Now all I have to do is fill Niles in on everything. This might work!" She hugged her best friend in excitement.

~*~*~

"So…" Maxwell rubbed his hands in anticipation, "it's Scrabble night, tonight. Want to call the kids down and I'll order the pizza?"

Niles walked to the closet and grabbed his coat. "I'm sorry sir, but I have plans and the children just left."

"Oh," he replied in disappointment. "Well, I suppose Miss Fine and I could make a quick trip to Blockbuster."

"Sorry, but I have a hot date."

Maxwell looked up and his eyes widened with desire as he watched Fran walk down the stairs in a beautiful red sequined dress, matching high heels, and her hair down loose and flowing. Her legs looked magnificent.

"You-you have a date, Miss Fine?" he tried to say with a smile.

"Yep," she nodded as she powdered her nose in front of the hallway mirror. "I really think this is the one."

Maxwell felt his heart plummet all the way to his toes. "The…the one? You've fallen for someone? I did not even know you were dating anyone seriously."

"Well, we haven't dated very often, but when I'm with him I feel complete, y'know? And when we're apart, all I can do is think of him. What he looks like, his cologne, what he's doing that minute." She sighed. "Yep, he's the one."

Maxwell watched helplessly as she put on her jacket. "Might you be acting rashly? Maybe you ought to date this chap a little longer?"

"No. I've thought about it long and hard. He's perfect for me, we compliment one another." She shot him a look of happiness and left.

And Maxwell found himself alone for the first time in a long time. His body and mind felt numb as he collapsed on the couch.

He stood up, suddenly in need of a stiff drink. Of a long night full of stiff drinks. Just as he was making his way to the bar, the doorbell rang. Not in the mood for visitors, he swore under his breath and pulled the door open harshly. "Yes! Who- Miss Fine?! Did you forget something? I thought you were on your way to your date?"

"I am," she breezed past him and walked towards the dining room.

Maxwell followed in bewilderment. "I don't understand, I thought…" his voice trailed at the sight before his eyes.

The dining table was beautifully set with the best china and decorative votive candles that lent a romantic glow to the room.

"You like?" Fran asked, trying to hide her nervousness. "Niles set it all up for us?"

"F-for us?" Maxwell stuttered and then it hit him, what she said about her date and a peaceful joy entered his soul. "Why don't you prepare our plates, I need to go upstairs for a moment."

Fran nodded and watched him as he hurriedly left the room.

As her thoughts traveled into a spiral of depression, she slowly spooned the pasta onto two plates and tossed the salad before putting them into the individual bowls. At the sound of approaching footsteps behind her, she turned around and gasped.

There he stood, not in the light brown trousers and polo shirt he had on before, but black tailored pants and a white dress shirt. The top two holes casually unbuttoned gave him an air of sexy sophistication. But what stood out more was the tender smile he had on his face as he pulled out her chair and gestured for her to sit down.

"No tie?"

It was so unlike him.

"I thought this would be a night full of life-changing decisions so I opted to go without."

Fran caught a peek of dark chest hair as he bent to sit down. "Good idea."

Quietly they sat, automatically eating the delicious food, their eyes on one another.

Maxwell noticed the champagne chilling and rose to open it. The cork made a popping sound as it was released and Fran picked up their glasses as foam cascaded down the neck of the bottle. He filled one glass and then the other and just as Fran smiled a thank you and brought it to her lips, he interrupted.

"A toast?"

"Oh, yes," she brought her glass up.

Maxwell raised his as well. "To a night filled with life changing decisions and a life filled with you by my side… always."

Her hand trembled as she watched him lightly clink his flute against hers. Then after they both sipped the amber liquid, he carefully took their glasses and placed them on the table and immediately took her hand in his.

"Miss Fine… Fran… these past few months you showed me how full my life could be with you in it. From the mornings when you steal my last bacon from my plate, to the afternoons kibitzing with you in the library and then to the evenings when we, as a family, spend it together talking about how all our days went."

Fran's eyes drank in the sight of him. His classically handsome face was kindled with a sort of passionate beauty and one lock fell a little forward as he spoke. The usual air of isolation that seemed to engulf his movements was gone and in its place was this man full of restless emotions. An electrifying shudder of hope reverberated through her and all she could do was remain absolutely motionless for a moment as she licked her lips nervously.

"You also showed me how empty it could be when you walked out that door for your date. And by the way, I'm very honored to be your date." The warmth of his smile echoed in his voice. "I had hoped that you would accept this as a token of my affections?"

He pulled out a skinny black velvet box from his back pocket. She was barely able to control her quick gasp of surprise as her fingers trembled, taking the container from him. Lifting the hinged top, her eyes took in the dazzling beauty of the intricate setting of diamonds lining the bracelet.

"This is something my Great-aunt Hortense gave me just a few years ago. She told me that one day I would find another woman who would fill my life with purpose again. You do that for me, Fran," he confessed quietly.

Her mind was a crazy mixture of optimism and fear as her fingertips lightly caressed the stones.

"May I?"

At her nod, he lifted and carefully wrapped it around her wrist, and linked the clasp. He noticed the tightness in her shoulders and the eyes that were usually filled with trust were now dimmed with wariness. He put that in there and he was determined to bring back her feisty spirit.

She became increasingly uneasy under his scrutiny and awkwardly, she cleared her throat. "Thank you. It's very beautiful."

He moved in, an instinctive gesture of comfort, his thigh touching hers underneath the table. And with a voice thick and unsteady, he continued. "I'm sorry Fran. I've wasted so much time. I was so – so…"

"Now don't you insult my date," her eyes twinkled.

Maxwell chuckled as his eyes misted. "Then you still harbor feelings for me?" He looked on in confusion as she began to laugh.

"Oy! This is going to be one hell of a relationship Maxwell Sheffield. You with your British reserve and me with my Jewish lack of tact."

He took her hand in his, "As long as there is a relationship, that's all I want. But do you, Fran Fine, want the same thing as I do?"

"What do you mean?" the warmth of his fingers as he tenderly caressed hers felt so good.

"It's like that Cosmo quiz I read the other day as I waited for you to finish using my treadmill. I believe it was titled, "Coupledom: A headlock or a wedlock?"

His eyes took in her thick dark hair, hanging in long graceful curves over her shoulders. Her ivory face had a rose flush on the cheekbones and her temptingly curved mouth parted slightly as she watched him just as studiously.

"Do you Fran Fine want to (a.) Proceed with caution, this man may not be marriage material. (b.) End it, end it right now before he crushes your still beating heart. (c.) Enjoy him for what he is, a man you can't do without despite his past reluctance for anything serious, or (d.) marry him at once because he just realized what a fool he was and he would be an even bigger fool to ever let you out of his life."

He tilted the bracelet box, and she heard and saw something slide beneath the velvet lining. His fingers lifted the material and pulled out the most amazing engagement ring Fran ever set her eyes upon. Never mind the candles, the brightness from the polished diamond alone was enough to light the room.

"This ring was also given to me by my Great-aunt Hortense. It's been passed on from Sheffield to Sheffield and given to me five years ago. I had thought I was holding it for safe-keeping until I could give it to Brighton." Maxwell pushed his seat back and knelt in front of her, "Fran, please do me the honor of becoming your husband. Fill my dreary world with your infectious laughter and your ability to live life to the fullest. Make me whole. I never thought I could be this lucky again," his voice was tinged with wonder. "Save me, Fran, I need you. Please marry me?"

"Oh my God." her voice trembled. "Are you sure? I can't take another heartbreak, I really can't."

His lips brushed hers as he spoke. "I love you." He raised his mouth from hers as he gazed into her eyes. "Please tell me that I didn't ruin it. That you still love me?" And as if in desperation, like an addendum to pleading his case, his next kiss started surprisingly gentle and then became more persuasive until his moist, firm mouth demanded a response. The touch of his lips was a delicious sensation and she gave herself freely to the passion of it. He then pulled his mouth away and crushed her to him, before looking at her hopefully.

Her fingertips caressed his cheek, "I love you and only you. I would love to be your wife."

He grinned at her, almost wolfishly, as he placed the ring on her finger before setting a series of slow, shivery kisses upon her lips. She breathed lightly before smothering his with demanding heat. It was a kiss that his lonely soul melted into.

Her world became topsy-turvy literally, as she felt him pick her bodily up and carry her to the living room. Their breathing was uneven as he settled her onto his lap and they stared at one another in pure happiness.

"Maybe you should call your mother and start planning for the wedding? I want to marry you as soon as possible."

She played with his wisps of chest hair that had been teasing her all night. "Well, Val is going to be my maid of honor and I suppose Nigel will be your best man?"

"Nigel will have to keep thirty feet away from you from now on. I'll get a court order if I have to," he murmured jealously as his lips feather touched her nose.

She gave him a stern stare.

"I'm joking," he dropped a kiss on her inviting lips, "…somewhat." He joined her in her laughter and then pressing another kiss upon her mouth, he added, "Although Nigel is my brother, I believe I'll ask Niles to be my bestman. He's been with me through good times and bad. We may not share a blood kinship, but he's like my brother all the same."

"Right back atcha, sir."

They turned towards the wry British tone that held a strong hint of sentiment. Niles stood there by the open front door, with the children and Val.

Fran waggled her diamond-encrusted ring at them and the room was filled with whoops of congratulations.

There were hugs all around.

"So as bestman, that means I have the duty of planning the bachelor party?" Niles brought up, his eyes alight.

"And I can plan the bachelorette party!" Val exclaimed excitedly.

Max and Fran in unison, "Over my dead body!"

They looked at one another and laughed. Their arms wrapped around each other and they shared a kiss that took away all the hurt they had subjected one another to over the years. Neither noticing as Niles and the kids went to their respective rooms and Val closed the front door after herself.

~*~*~

Epilogue:

It was Niles' day off and the children were off visiting their Uncle Nigel for the week. Max and Fran fixed brunch together, cheerfully getting in each other's way, and eating out on the terrace in their robes.

Later, they shared the Sunday paper, quietly passing the sections back and forth as they sat at opposite ends of the couch, their feet tangled together. They even shared a long, lovely, erotic shower, leaving only when the hot water ran out. It was a blissfully peaceful morning.

They then decided to pick up some groceries for lunch later that day and hopped inside the Porsche. He glanced at her from time to time as he drove home, drinking in the tiny smile that graced her lips. A contented sigh escaped, bathing him in warm feelings.

The afternoon passed comfortably. They took a long nap and cuddled together on the sofa. Max awoke with Fran's head on his chest, her arms around him and her legs entwined with his. Coming out of a peaceful sleep with her in his arms was one of his happiest fantasies come true. He never grew tired of watching her, with all her softness and heat against him.

Fran woke up and noticed her husband eyeing her fondly. She encircled his neck with her arms and drew herself slowly upwards until her lips met his. The afternoon sunlight streamed in at a low angle from the windows across the room, and the golden light seemed to dance all around them. They made love on the couch until the room darkened from the sky and the sounds of the night filled the air. They then lay in each other's arms and watched TV. Not bothering with putting their clothes back on.

"Let's call our friends and have a little get together," Fran suggested.

"Oh, I don't know sweetheart. It's a bit last minute, don't you think?"

"No one I know has that much of a life, Max, it's a Sunday night! I want everyone to come over here and eat junk food and be happy with us."

Maxwell looked over at his pregnant wife. They were sitting at opposite ends of the sofa, feet and legs meeting in the middle. One bare, slender female foot was gently sliding up and down his leg, causing shivers to extend all the way to his heart. He was incredibly, immeasurably happy. Happiness should be shared, should it not?

Disclaimer: The Nanny is a copyright of Sony Pictures, Tri-Star Television, High School Sweethearts, Sternin & Fraser's Ink, Inc. No infringement on the rights of anyone involved in its production is intended.

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