The Usual Disclaimer:  The characters are all copyrighted and owned and I'm not making any money from this. I took it upon myself to connect the last scene and tag scenes of the episode I watched repeatedly on tape this May. I was just obsessed, and felt the need to glue the kind of disjointed sections together. This is my first fanfiction, and I would appreciate comments and criticism. I really hope you enjoy it!

"Not Without My Nanny" -- the missing scenes

by

Diana
(nani1978@yahoo.com)

 From the moment that he announced her entrance in "The Pilot," ("THAT'S…the Nanny.") Maxwell knew he had fallen at least platonically in love with Fran, daunted, but slightly amused by the breath--no, gust!-- of fresh air she provided. Her schemes throughout the years had bordered on insane, but he was often able to come to her rescue--something he enjoyed much more than he would have admitted up to now. He knew he loved her, but the kicker was, he was highly afraid to admit it first. He wanted her to say it. Fran was just unpredictable enough that Max could not be sure the show she put on, the huge deal she made out of "The Thing" really meant she loved him truly, maturely. The honest truth was that Max didn’t know how she really felt and just couldn't let his vulnerability be known. She was always threatening to leave. What did that really mean? She never actually left. This time, though, she didn't put on a show. She had grudgingly agreed her job as nanny came first and gone off to Kooristan with Grace. He hadn't heard much of a fight from her this time, which was odd. Actually, Max hadn't heard anything from Kooristan that week. Something was wrong and he knew that, fear be damned, he needed her around.

"Mr. Sheffield, I know that I'm not crazy. That king was coming on to me."

"Well, of course he was, Miss Fine, of course he was! Anyone could see he was smitten with you."

"Wasn't he?"

"Of course he was! He's a MAN! Ahh, unfortunately some men are just not very good at expressing their feelings.

 And I could see right through that sultan. Oh yes, you'd start as his nanny, all right, start working for him for a few years, and then eventually you'd be on a first-name basis, and then one day he'd come to realize you were more important to him than his work. Then, hah, then he'd tell you he loves you."

"And, uh, when does that happen?"

"Right now. I love you."

"Wha???"

"Fran, I love you."

 Fran's kiss deepened as Max felt tears running down her face. He knew then that he'd made no mistake; he hadn't exposed his vulnerability for nothing. Rather, if this were all the admission of love he could get from her, he would be more than satisfied. With that realization, that he was more willing to give than to receive, he began to weep, too. Their kiss dissolved, and they stood there in a tight embrace.

All of this had not gone unnoticed-- Grace stood in an archway with an enormous grin on her face, hugging herself, thrilled that her father had finally come to his senses.

She went over to the two and embraced them both, snapping the lovebirds out of their trance. Max laughed and hugged her back more tightly than he ever had before. Without a word, the three walked away.

Fran had been unusually quiet on the plane ride back-- she didn't plead for a window seat or ask Max to buy her a cocktail, nor did she squeal over the movie (which starred a man who had starred with a man who had once starred with Barbra!). She simply flipped through one ladies magazine after another, softly giggling at the "How to land your man" articles. Max couldn't take his eyes off her, but thought it strange that she had mellowed so. He actually wished she would be more rambunctious. He sighed, and got up to go to the bathroom again. This had been one of those rides.

Fran hastily rearranged herself in her seat, from where she had been leaning to kibitz with a neighbor, when she caught sight of Max returning. She resumed her "immersion" in the magazines, but soon fell asleep. Maxwell puzzled over this change in Fran's demeanor, but was pleased to have the opportunity to watch her sleep. Her features seemed so angelic as a huge grin crept over her face, as she relived his "I love you," in her dream.

"Wha?" she said out loud, waking herself up. Darn. But she had to use the little girl's room anyway. Max got up at that moment to head in the same direction. As they both unexpectedly sprang up from their seats, they bumped into each other.

Max rubbed her offended shoulder, bent his head, and kissed it. "All better, Fran?"

Still a little groggy and touched by the simplicity of his gesture, all she could do was nod. "Yes, thanks." She turned, 'Gracie, honey, do you need to go, too?"

Grace roused herself from her extended nap (she'd slept at least the past eight hours) and nodded, following Fran down the aisle. Maxwell went to the other lavatory, uncomfortable with having to wait to relieve himself, with Fran and Gracie right there with him.

As Fran approached the lavatory line, a woman in an aisle seat winked at her, and remarked, "You have the most beautiful family, I must say! Your daughter is gorgeous, and your husband is extremely handsome."
 

"Well, actually," Fran replied, "I'm her nanny, but I love her and her brother and sister like they were my own. Thank you, though. That magnificent man is my boss, their father, and we've sort of begun dating…" Fran perked up again, as she had when chatting with her neighbor earlier, and told the woman the story of how Max finally came around. The woman was enthralled, and Fran's voice began to carry, in her excitement, so that everyone in a 5-row radius, as well as the flight attendants and the co-pilot, who's left the cockpit for a breather, could hear the tale.

Maxwell caught sight of Fran's vivacity as he emerged from the lavatory all the way down the aisle. Well, it looked like something, probably the upcoming 75%-off-sale at Loehmann's had forged a connection between her and a great number of passengers. It was nice to see that she'd recovered from her slump. He returned to his seat. An hour later, Gracie dragged Fran back to their seats. She was very excited about the development in Max and Fran's relationship, but she had the feeling that this was going to get sickening. Still, she couldn't help the tingle in her spine each time she heard Fran mention Max's admission in the palace. "Go, dad!" she thought. "This is better than when he got snowed in on Christmas."

"Well, that was some conversation," Max remarked upon their return. Fran, suddenly uncharacteristically shy, just said, "Yeah, it was." She realized then that she was worried about overdoing it. All she could think about was Max's tender admission of love. She wanted to savor every second of the memory, but she didn't want to harp on it like she had during the return trip from Paris. What a mess that had been. If he heard her bragging to everyone now, he would become uncomfortable and probably angry with her. She was sure he meant it this time, but most likely he would want to keep this a private matter. Fran knew she had a habit of making things larger than life.

Suddenly the pilot's voice filled the air, announcing the impending landing.

 "So would the woman in 3b, who has spent the last 17 hours kvelling that her boss finally told her he loves her, please next time choose Qantas instead?"

Many of the passengers laughed. Fran's mouth formed her characteristic O and she tried to melt into her seat, obviously without luck. Max slowly turned to her. She grimaced. He laced the fingers of his left hand through the fingers of her right, lifted her hand, and kissed it. He got up, in "defiance" of the seat belt sign, turned around and shouted, "Can you believe I once took it back? I'm not that stupid anymore. I love Fran Fine and that will never change."

 Some passengers applauded the show. The women in the back, by the lavatory, wept.

Max sat back down, and turned to Fran. "I'm ready to shout it from the rooftops. I hope 30,000 feet is sufficient."

They shared a long, deep kiss as the plane began its descent into New York City.

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