Disclaimer: As usual absolutely no infringement is intended by this story. My sincere 'thank yous' go out to Fran Drescher, Peter Marc Jacobson, High School Sweethearts, Sony Pictures and anyone else involved in the making of 'The Nanny', for without them I couldn't have borrowed their characters for my writing.

The Thing

by

Gabrielle
(gmrde@yahoo.de)

‘Besides, there’s nothing keeping me here’.

Fran Fine’s last sentence towards CC Babcock was still ringing in Maxwell Sheffield’s ears, as he noticed his business associate leave the office in his peripheral view - his eyes fixed on his children’s nanny, tough. He felt hurt at Fran’s statement, even though he knew she didn’t really mean it and had said it only to get back at him and tease him about the ‘thing’ another time. He hadn’t meant to hurt her feelings when he had taken back his confession six months ago and he was really sorry about it. But still Miss Fine hadn’t come over him having told her he loved her and then having taken it back afterwards. He had tried to make her understand his reasons for having done so. He had hoped she would understand that for him the stakes of losing someone he loved were far too high and only the mere thought of it was unbearable for him, so that she would see that it was not a problem of him not having deep feelings for her, for it was an open secret how he felt about her anyway. But she was still hurt and angry and she wouldn’t let him hear the end of it.

She looked at him provokingly. Maxwell felt rather desperate and so he decided to give it one more try and ask for her forgiveness. He dropped his pen and stood from his chair, rather upset.

"For God’s sake, Miss Fine. When are you gonna forgive me for this?" he addressed her in an almost desperate voice, emphasizing his words by dropping his hands in a hopeless gesture.

Fran who was standing on the other side of his desk leaned over towards him a little, as if she wanted to let him in on a secret. "Well, I’ll give you a little hint. It begins with an ‘n’ and it ends with an ‘a’" she told him.

Maxwell frowned puzzled as he tried to figure out what in the world she could mean.

"Ne-va" Fran stressed, then she turned on her heels and started to make her way to the office door.

That was it. That put the tin lid on in. Maxwell felt his desperation turn into annoyed anger and he quickly strode around his desk to catch up with Fran who was about to leave the office. But before she reached the threshold, Maxwell quickly reached over her shoulder to slam the door shut by thrusting his palm angrily against it. The slamming sound made Fran wince, but Maxwell was not in the mood for apologizing any longer. On the contrary – he was tired of this whole ‘thing’ business and he was tired of this childish game going on between them, he was tired of having to apologize again and again for something he felt really sorry about and which he had meant as a protection for both of them. He didn’t deserve to be treated like that.

Did she think this was easy for him? Did she think it was easy for him to be so close to her and yet so far? Didn’t she know how hard it was for him to keep his distance for the sake of both of them? She kept torturing him about his mistake again and again and she kept on turning the knife some more in his wound, when all he was longing for was to be with her? Couldn’t she see it was not the right time, yet? That they needed more time?

Of course he knew it was her way of getting back at him for hurting her feelings, but this wasn’t the warm-hearted Fran Fine he knew and he realized he was partly this angry because he was disappointed that she wouldn’t forgive him, as the woman with a heart of gold he had met three years before would have easily done. He knew a lot had changed within the last three and a half years but still he somehow expected her to finally forgive him for his emotional outburst on the plane from Paris.

He hated it when things were like that between them and he decided he would put an end to this game – once and for all. He simply had had it and so he turned her around by her right shoulder, unfortunately more roughly than he had intended. His other hand was still pressed against the door, which made him lean in rather close to her, but this time Fran didn’t find it as alluring and rousing as it normally was when he was this close to her, but rather threatening and she tried to put some distance between them, but the door in her back kept her from doing so. She felt the blood rush through her body and her ears felt very hot as her heart was hammering rapidly against her chest. Fran couldn’t help but feel rather tiny and defenceless all of a sudden, faced with the potential danger of his strong male body.

Maxwell’s chest was heaving and sinking with his furious breathing and Fran recognized that he had trouble controlling his anger as he captured her gaze angrily through narrowed eyelids. When he saw the look in her eyes, he knew he was scaring her and there was a trace of a guilty conscience in them, but right now he was far too upset and furious with her to calm down. She had overdone it this time. He had tried to behave gentlemanly about it, since he had acknowledged his mistake, but he could only take this much and now he was beyond reason and understanding. He simply couldn’t help it and he wanted to let her feel that she wasn’t the only one suffering here and he wanted her to know that she wasn’t the only one being hurt in their ‘game’, which wasn’t the least funny to him – especially not in this moment.

"I know exactly when you are going to forgive me, Miss Fine. Oh, yes, I do" he hissed at her silently and Fran felt another twitch of a bad conscience and even fear as he leaned in closer, their faces only inches from each other. Fran was scared at the accusing sound of his voice. She had never seen him this mad at her or at anyone else before and she knew that her latest teasing him with the ‘thing’ was one time too many and she felt very uncomfortable being caught between him and the office door, with nowhere to go.

But then again: she was mad at him herself. It was not her fault that he had told her he loved her and that he had taken it back afterwards. That hadn’t been the first time he had hurt her feelings and she had never come over another man who could hurt her as much as he could – not even Danny when he had cheated on her with Heather Biblow and when he had fired her. No, Maxwell Sheffield was the man who had hurt her the most in her life. He had asked her to marry her only to make his mother upset, he had used her as a ‘tool’ to make his business deals work and he had taken his declaration of love back. Who was he to react so upset now? Who did he think he was? Everything seemed to be centred around him and Fran decided that she wouldn’t be the one giving in this time.

Just as she allowed herself to follow that train of thought, Fran felt anger rising within herself and once more she was persuaded that her being angry was completely righteous. He had been the one who had put them in the mess in the first place. Now he had to pay for it, no matter if he wanted or not. Fran felt her emotions go from being terrified to rising anger. She straightened her shoulders, rose to her full height and put her hands onto her hips.

"Ah, yeah? You do?" she challenged him with a new passion for her cause, as she felt her heart beating faster and she wasn’t sure it was out of anger only, as she inhaled his scent since she was very close to him now. But she was determined to let any attraction influence her persuasion. Not this time.

Maxwell couldn’t help but get even madder at this so annoyingly stubborn woman in front of him and he knew he was going to regret his words, but he just couldn’t stop himself from blurting out.

"Oh, yes, I do" he snapped back. "The only way you are going to forgive me is if I tell you how much I love you and if I propose to you, isn’t it, Miss Fine? Isn’t it?" he inquired hotly, his voice raising steadily with every word.

"You’re damn right, mister" Fran shot back, her own voice pretty loud now.

Then a silence followed, during which they stared fumingly into each others eyes, both breathing rather heavily at their heated exchange of words. Then Maxwell lowered his voice without taking his eyes from hers.

"That will never happen, Miss Fine."

He couldn’t have hit her more if he had slapped her. Fran felt hit by a wave of nausea and coldness at his words and as she felt her heart crumble, she felt tears start to dwell to her eyes.

At the hurtful look she gave him, Maxwell felt immediately sorry at how his words had come out and he reached for her shoulder as he wanted to explain, but Fran winched away from his touch and turned towards the door. She didn’t want him to touch her – ever again. He had lost the right to do so by having hurt her the final time. What formerly had felt wonderful and enticing to her, seemed disgusting to her right now. She tried to open the door, but Maxwell wouldn’t let her by pressing his palm firmly against it. Fran couldn’t do anything against his superior physical power and she felt even more frustrated. She couldn’t fight the tears any longer and they started to fall from her eyes. Couldn’t he just let her go? Away from this embarrassing situation, away from him? She heard his voice speaking softly, but she didn’t listen, she just wanted to run away from him, she wanted to be somewhere else and cry her heart out and she didn’t want him to see her like this. But he even wouldn’t let her have this last little piece of comfort as he easily fended off her efforts to open the door. She felt all strength drain from her body as she sank against the door defeated, crying weakly. Again she heard his voice.

"Miss Fine…" he pleaded softly "…please, listen."

She didn’t want to listen but she couldn’t get away, either. And she knew that he still had some power over her. She weakly tried for the door one more time, even though she knew it was hopeless.

"Please" he tried again "I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it to come out that way."

Maxwell knew she was deeply hurt and he didn’t want to do anything to hurt her even more, so he had to fight down the need just to take her in his arms and hold her until she would finally understand the nature of his feelings for her, until everything would be good again. He felt hurt himself and oddly shut off from her and he feared that the connection they had had was cut off. He hadn’t meant it the way it appeared and he was terribly afraid that he might have lost her. He wanted to set things straight between them again. Why couldn’t she see? Why couldn’t she understand? Why had things to be so complicated between them?

Maxwell needed her to listen, so he tried another time and he tried to put all his heart in his words as he knew that this wasn’t the moment to restrain his feelings.

"Please, Miss Fine, I beg you, please listen."

She didn’t say anything, but she didn’t try for the door any more, so he felt a little more hopeful and continued.

"Miss Fine, you really have to believe me that I’m really very sorry and that it has never been my intention to hurt you."

Fran gave a sarcastically snort, looking shortly over her shoulder before she averted her head again, sniffing the tears, but at least it was a sign of her listening to his words.

He went on and he tried to keep his voice was as low and gentle as he could, but he couldn’t keep it from trembling with emotion.

"After all these years you have to know how much you mean to me."

She quickly turned to throw him an icy glare.

"Yeah, you just showed me."

Her words were full of sarcasm and they hit Maxwell deeply. He considered that he somehow deserved it and he would have to endure them. As long as she was talking to him. Here eyes were cast down and he realized her shiver a little.

"Please, look at me" he asked pleadingly and she slowly lifted her head to meet his gaze.

He looked into her teary hurt eyes and he was looking for a trace of that extra sparkle, which would show him that there was still something left between them. He held her gaze and he tried to read hers.

When Fran saw the look in his eyes, she hated herself as she realized that she wouldn’t be able to resist him and come over her feelings for him. Why did loving him always mean getting hurt? Why couldn’t things be easy – just this one time? They kept staring at each other and both were looking for the answers to their respective unspoken questions. The Fran spoke in a broken voice as tears were glistening in her eyes.

"Why do you always have to hurt me like this?"

Maxwell furrowed his eyebrows in an hurtful and sorry expression at her question.

"I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you. You have to believe me."

His eyes were pleading with hers for forgiveness and understanding and although she felt hurt so badly, in her heart she knew she wouldn’t be able to ever hate him.

Maxwell looked at her with a oddly mixed expression out of hope and desperation.

"Fran" he ventured "can’t you see that, when I’m going to tell you I love you and propose to you, it will be out of one reason only? And that this reason would be you and me being equally ready for it and not to make up for something, to make your mother happy or out of guilt or any other wrong reason? Can’t you see that I don’t want to mess up anything by rushing things?" he inquired almost desperately, while she was watching the sad suffering expression on his face.

‘Please, let her understand’ he thought as he observed her face, hoping to find understanding and forgiveness there. ‘Please make her understand that I’m not keeping off because of not loving and wanting her’. He tried to read the expression on her face by literally diving into her dark brown eyes. The moment seemed like an eternity to him until he recognised a hint of that extra sparkle in her eyes. Maxwell felt hopeful and he waited for her reaction. Then a small timid smile formed at the corners of her mouth as the meaning of his words started to sink in. She slightly raised her eyebrows questioningly.

"’When’ ?" she inquired shyly with rising hope.

Maxwell smiled, sighing relieved and he brought his hand up to her cheek very slowly as if asking for permission, before he put it there and caressed her lightly with his thumb.

"Definitely ‘when’, not ‘if’ " he answered and smiled warmly as her timid smile turned into one of her bright and heart-melting ones, he had come to love so much. It felt wonderful to see her smile again, even though her mascara was smeared on her cheeks. He gently rubbed it away and rested his forehead against hers, closing his eyes at the calm and wonderful feeling of knowing that they were beyond the ‘thing’ and that everything would be all right - this time for good. After a while they withdrew a little to look at each other again and Maxwell could see that she finally understood.

"So if telling me you love me and proposing is for ‘then’ what is it for ‘now’ then?" Fran inquired, still smiling.

Maxwell brought his other hand up to cup her face.

"Well, I suppose something like this" he said and slowly leaned in to kiss her tenderly. Maxwell could still feel the taste of her salty tears as he gently sucked on her upper lip as he tried to tell her everything through this loving gesture. Fran reacted by opening her lips lightly to deepen the kiss and moving into his body, at the same time giving and getting comfort from the feeling of the other one’s embrace. As they slowly deepened the kiss, she marvelled once more at the wonderful feeling of kissing the man she truly loved and she could feel that he put all his love and feelings for her into it too, without having to tell her in words. Fran tried to tell him everything she had felt for so long in return and she was confident about the promising prospect of their future.

As they parted, they smiled gently at each other and they enjoyed the peace and happiness running through their very cores as they drowned in the other one’s eyes, because there both could see, as well as they knew in their hearts, that they wouldn’t have to wait long until the day ‘when’.

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