Back to Fan FictionFINALLY done, however short it may be. Many thanks to Shanyette and Renee for their great suggestions...HOpe ya'll like it... i LoVe CoMmEnTs.
I do not own any of the characters, except for Dr. Jenkins of course, and no infringement is intended as this is just for fun :-)
Parts 3 & 4
by
A Beautiful Storm
(Wackyhorse2002@aol.com)
Fran Fine walked down the busy streets of New York City—though she new exactly where she was, she was lost.
Wondering, walking, fighting, waiting.
Waiting for what she did not know. She passed a vendors cart, but it was without a worker. Yes, yes, the streets were busy, but empty.
Cold, empty, shrouded in mist—shrouded in mystery.
Fran Fine was lost in the city she knew so well. She continued to amble along, eating up the rough pavement with giant strides as she began to run. She was alone and scared, scared of the future. Would Maxwell Sheffield ever fess up as to his feelings? Would she die an old maid?
Suddenly she knew where her feet were carrying her.
Carrying her to the safety of the Sheffield home. Where she knew she was meant to be. Carrying her to the waiting arms of the man she loved—to the children she loved—everything. They were everything. Somehow, she would get there.
Somehow—soon, soon, soon.
Maxwell Sheffield sat anxiously in the airport lounge, staring out the large window, seemingly concentrating immensely, but his mind was elsewhere. Wondering to the hospital, next to Miss Fine. It had been two weeks since Miss Fine's collapse in health. Two weeks without her. He might as well be a wingless eagle. Without his wings he was nothing. He needed to feel the wind beneath his wings, the air lifting him to higher levels, giving him unsurpassable joys. He needed her.
"Daddy!" a quivering voice shouted, waking him from his stupor. Maxwell smiled slightly. He looked up and saw a tear-stained Maggie. Following her, a hysterical Gracie. And behind them both, was Brighton. He was staring nonchantaly at the floor, but Max did notice the tears falling to the floor. He hugged them all alternately, and without speaking led them to the limo awaiting their return.
Back in the hospital...
"Fran, you have to get better!" Grace sobbed, burying her face in Fran's chest. Her other siblings quietly slipped out of the room. "My mother already left me. You can't abandon me to! You told me you'd always be there for me. You're not here Fran! You're not here! We all need you. Please, Fran, come back!" Grace Sheffield cried hysterically. The youngest Sheffield had not spoken for two weeks. She had not uttered a single word since Fran fallen ill. Now, she poured her heart out while Fran just laid there, not even offering a comforting hand. Covering her face in her hands, she fled the room, and fell into the waiting arms of her father.
The two other children--not so much anymore--hung back, urging their sister out of their father's grasp, desperate for more time. Maxwell understood, and walked into the hospital room, stalling for his children. He leaned over and gently kissed miss fine, as he had done so many times before. And sat down on the corner of her hospital bed, gently caressing her thin face. He sat there for what could have been hours, imagining the life they might have together--the life they could've had together. Had he not taken back 'the thing'. He leaned over again and kissed her. He could've sworn that she responded, he could've sworn she had kissed him back. He kissed her harder, praying that the response was real--just then the door creaked open.
Miss C.C. Babcock walked in--more fell than walked--holding a brown bag that undoubtably contained some form of alcohol.
"Maxwell, I want some time alone with Nanny Fine..." C.C. said drunkenly, slurring her words and almost collapsing on an end table. Against his better judgment, Maxwell complied, his face flushed red.
"So nanny fine, how are you enjoying my boyfriend?" she said coyly, collapsing into a chair. "You did know he was my boyfriend, didn't you? Of course you did. How could you not. He loved me--that is, he did until you came." She continued her voice getting louder with each word. She slowly stood up, and approached the bed.
"Until you came..." She almost shouted. "In you two-inch skirts and spandex shirts and began flirting with him shamelessly! Flirting with the boss. You, the help! Stole him away from me! You little--" She was screaming now. Maybe it was the alcohol--maybe bottled up anger. But C.C. struck Nanny Fine across the face, throwing her purse at her head, thinking of anyway she might hurt this little tart that came in and ruined her life.
C.C. Babcock burst into tears for the first time since she was very small, collapsed on the floor, and sobbed. There were no comforting arms to hold her, just like it was when she was a child. Her tears ceased when she heard the continuous beeping of the monitor stop--and blur into one fatal screech. Doctors raced in, and C.C. slipped away quietly, unnoticed by the frantic medics.
The End
Back to Fan FictionBack to The Really Unofficial Nanny Home Page