7.10 Betting To Know You

by

IvanaBGood
*M/F bedroom discussion scene written by Danielle!
(IvanaBgood@aol.com/Smiles119@aol.com)

The early morning rays snuck in through the sides of the heavily draped windows as Fran tried to rock little Eve back to sleep. At the first peal of the phone, Fran made a mad dash for it, but not fast enough. Little Evie began to cry. As she rocked back and forth on her toes, Fran yawned a greeting, "Hello?"

"Hi darling, did I wake you?"

"I'd have to fall asleep before I could be awakened Ma!"

"Oh sweetheart, are the babies giving you that much trouble? I'll come home right now."

"No, no Ma. You go ahead and enjoy your vacation with Daddy. Try to pick me up one of those burro salt and pepper shakers while you're there."

"You hired that girl Bernice to clean the house, maybe she could help you with the babies too?"

"It’s okay Ma, don’t worry, I’ve got everything under control."

"Alright if you say so. How do you like having Niles and that wife of his living so close by?"

"I love it! Now that Niles is here to cook his exquisite meals, the kids stay home more." As Eve gave a little grouchy squeal, Fran switched arms and cradled the phone under her chin as she jiggled the infant, "You have a good time in Mexico and remember - don’t drink the water."

"I won’t. Wait a minute, your father wants to say something."

"Frannie?"

"Yes Daddy, what is it?"

"Are you taping my shows?"

"Yes. I’ve got Brighton in charge of it all…yes, the Islanders too. Don’t worry. Have a good time. Okay…bye."

"Bye sweetheart."

As Fran hung up the phone, she turned her head and smiled as she took in her daughter’s sleeping face. She gave her a soft kiss on the nose and inhaled the baby scent of talcum powder and spit up.

Max was just getting out of bed and ready for the day ahead. "Good morning darling, sleep well?"

"Sleep? What’s sleep?" Fran yawned.

"Oh Fran, you should have woken me up, I would have given you a hand," Max said with concern.

"No, no, its okay. I mean, I know ya need your rest for the sitcom meetings and preparations."

"But I always have time for you darling, you know that."

"I know honey," Fran yawned once again, "That’s sweet of you to offer. Don't worry Max, things will get easier once the twins sleep through the night." Fran said almost falling asleep again.

Max knew that they needed to spend time with one other, but with his hectic schedule - when could they find the time? He decided that soon he would surprise Fran with a romantic weekend for two.

As the family gathered around the kitchen table, Gracie stared as Fran’s nose came thisclose to falling on her stack of pancakes.

Niles looked at his exhausted friend, concerned with the fact that she was pushing herself too much.

"Fran darling…" Maxwell nudged her shoulder gently.

Fran bolted awake, her eyes widened, as she patted the burping pad on her shoulder, "It’s okay, Mommy is here."

CC rolled her eyes as she raised her fork to her mouth.

"Fran, the babies are asleep - I think you better follow their example," Maxwell urged.

As she stretched her eyelids open, she attempted to stifle her yawn. "I can’t, I have too many things to do. I promised Yetta I would take her shopping today."

"Maybe that’s her," Grace replied, as a rapping is heard.

Brighton walked over and opened the back door. "It’s Yetta…and a Merry Maid," he announced in bewilderment.

Fran quickly pushed away from the table to watch as her grandmother walked in followed by a blonde, young surfer type, wearing a tight white tank top with ‘Merry Maid’ emblazoned in pink on the front. "Yetta, who’s this?"

"This is Jimmy, he was working at the home. I told him that if he brought me here, you would give him a job for the day," she elbowed her granddaughter. "Some boychick, huh."

"Yetta! You know we already hired all the help we need."

"Yeah, but do they look like that?" she replied pointedly as Jimmy turned around and picked up his backpack of cleaning supplies.

Gracie looked over Fran’s shoulder and smiled at the view, "They sure don’t."

"Oh yeah, here," Yetta handed Jimmy a helmet. "Next time take the corners faster."

"Oh my god Yetta, you rode a motorcycle!" Fran exclaimed. "One deep dip and you’d be seeing stars!"

"What a coincidence. That’s the same thing my Sammy said to me last night." She winked as she walked slowly to the table.

Brighton scrunched his face at the thought.

Fran nodded at her son, "Why don’t you show Jimmy to the living room, so he can get started."

"I’ll show him," Gracie volunteered as she escorted the Merry Maid to the room.

Maxwell watched in concern as they walked out. "Do you think it’s wise letting that boy be alone with Grace?"

"Dad, what could go wrong?" Brighton shrugged. "What’s he going to do, dust her off?"

"If she’s lucky," CC murmured to her husband as she gave him a come hither look.

"What, what was that CC?" Maxwell’s brow furrowed.

"Nothing," CC replied, in wide-eyed innocence.

Niles smirked.

"You’re looking nice today Yetta, very fit," Maxwell smiled.

"Thanks. I’ve never had a sick day in my life," she replied as she sat down in Brighton’s chair.

"Knock on wood," Niles quipped as he rapped on CC’s head. He moved quickly away and chuckled as CC’s fork slashed through the air.

Maxwell looked at the older lady in astonishment. "You’ve never been bedridden even once?"

"Oh, many times, and three times in the haystack," she replied.

Fran grinned, "Ready to go shopping Yetta?"

"Naw, I already did that," she unzipped her shiny metallic blue fanny pack. "See?" she pulled out a small brown paper bag.

"What’s that?" Fran asked.

"It’s what I’m wearing to my hot date with Sammy tonight," Yetta smiled.

Fran took the bag and peered in. "Underwear?"

"It’s the eatable kind…prune flavored. Not only do we make love on a regular basis, we stay regular afterwards too."

As Fran looked to the side and shook her head, she handed the bag back to her grandmother. "Where’d you buy that at, Frederick’s of Over the Hood?"

"Of course not…they don’t carry my size," Yetta zipped up her bag.

"I got it on eBay."

"What’s an eBay?" Niles wondered.

Fran enthused, "It’s this fantastic online auction website that you can buy anything at. One time there was this beautiful pair of black pumps that Barbara Striesand wore, up for bid. And I won…," noticed Max’s angry glare, "…der who won them?" she finished with an engaging smile.

"I’m just glad you didn’t. Our bedroom is filled with enough junk as it is," Max grumped as he lifted his coffee mug.

"Junk!" Fran blurted, her hands on her hips.

"Yes, junk! Elliot Gould’s sour ball. Ben Vereen’s tea cup. What’s the purpose of keeping all of that anyway?"

"The same reason why you keep this matchbook from some place called ‘Water Meadows’ in your wallet all the time." Fran glared, "Which by the way, you never explained to me."

Maxwell sputtered coffee as he brought his mug down. Off his watch, "Just look at the time, we must be off CC."

CC looked up in surprise as Niles fed her from his fork, "But we don’t have to be there un…," at Max’s angry look, "…forgettable, that’s what you are…" she sung off-key. Flashing Niles an apologetic look, she wiped the corners of her lips with her napkin.

"You’re not going to get away that easily, Maxwell Sheffield. I want an explanation later today," Fran called after the departing duo.

"You haven’t lost your touch," Niles smiled.

"Huh?" Fran asked, her eyes on the empty chair where her husband had sat.

"The way you got him off the subject of your shopping and turned it into a book of matches that we both know you’re not at all worried about," he explained.

"Yeah," she answered half-heartedly as she toyed with her food.

"What are you still doing here?" an exasperated CC asked in annoyance as she found her husband sitting in front of the computer in their new home. Boxes of their belongings still strewn around, unopened.

He glanced at her and turned his attention quickly back to the monitor. "I’m working."

"Niles you were suppose to meet me at the office to take me out to lunch," CC walked over and stood behind him. "Hey - you’re not working on your screenplay - you’re online!"

"I became curious about this eBay thing. It’s quite fascinating. Did you know that one can purchase the actual dress Lynn Redgrave wore in ‘Georgy Girl’."

CC made a face. "Who would want something that was obviously sweated in by that big-pored woman."

"What have you got against Lynn Redgrave?"

"The memory of your head on her shoulder. And you gave her my flowers!" She added indignantly.

"Why would you care - you didn’t even like me then." Niles replied distractedly as he moved the mouse around the pad.

"I did too!…I just didn’t know it at the time. Come on Niles, I’m starving."

"Oh…yes, sorry CC, I’ve already eaten," he nodded over to a crumpled bag of cheese doodles, a half-empty bottle of root beer, and a scattering of chocolate pretzels next to the keyboard.

Her nose scrunched as she peeked into the doodle bag, "Very nutritious. Well, I need to get something quickly. I have a meeting I must attend soon."

"Okay, I’ll see you later," his eyes glued to the computer.

CC scowled at him and left mumbling, "I hope this isn’t going to be like Nanny Fine all over again."

As the weeks passed, Fran was finally able to get the babies on some sort of schedule.

The chair scraped against the kitchen floor as Niles pulled it out. "What’s wrong, I thought you would be happy now that Eve and Jonah are sleeping better?"

"I am. I sleep longer now that they aren’t so fussy. Which means I can wear less make-up to bed," she smiled distractedly, her thoughts on a certain book of matches.

"Alright, fess up. What’s wrong? I don’t have much time to chat - I have to make a bid soon," Niles checked his watch.

"What are you buying now?"

"This special deck of playing cards," Niles rubbed his hands gleefully. "From now on, I’ll never lose a game of strip poker to that ball and chain of mine."

"What’s the fun in that?" Fran asked. "Oh by the way, I threw another load of laundry in your dryer. Ours is still out of whack."

"I know!" CC angrily replied as she entered the kitchen. "Will you kindly remove your clothes from your spare dresser? I am sick and tired of having to throw your stuff on the floor! God, I miss Angelica!"

Fran stood up and rinsed her juice glass, "Well I’m sorry, but nothing beats warm pants in the morning."

"Warm panting in the morning always starts my day off right," Niles smirked at his wife.

She grinned evilly back.

"And that’s my cue to exit," Fran replied as she made her way across the garden to Niles and CC’s home.

"How are you feeling?" Niles invitingly patted his lap.

CC sat down happily and rested her arm on his shoulders. "Great! I guess that quack we hired was right. The morning sickness is gone."

"I’m going to miss hearing you hurl at the crack of dawn." Niles squeezed her around the waist.

"He was right about something else too," she smiled just before nibbling on his ear. "The tail end of my trimester is better than a double issue of Playgirl magazine any day."

"Stop that - you know I get ticklish," Niles laughed as he tried to turn his head away.

"Could you two take that outside, I don’t think you’ve tried the gazebo yet," Maxwell suggested in exasperation as he opened the refrigerator.

CC sat up. "Well, we would go home, but your wife is there."

"Why…oh don’t tell me she’s doing the laundry again?!" He stalked outside the open back door. "Fran!"

Niles and CC followed.

"What is it?" Fran called out as she folded the clothes.

"Why am I paying someone to do what you have been doing for the past few weeks?" Maxwell bit out.

"I have to do it. Last week Bernice shrunk my tiger print skirt by mistake."

"How could you tell?" CC grinned.

Fran felt an urge to stick her tongue out, when her husband spoke again.

"Well, then fire her! I am tired of my home being run so inefficiently."

"No, you’re not. This is our daily morning ritual. You rant about something I do and I let you."

"Wait a minute. You let me?" Maxwell frowned.

"Eh heh…what, you think that it’s easy for me to listen to you complain all the time?" Fran replied off handedly as she rummaged around for the mate to the sock she held.

"Complain - me?" He called over his shoulder, "Niles, do I complain?"

"Do you complain?!" Fran answered for him in disbelief. She pantomimed like she was fishing. "Oh, what’s this. It’s a big one!" Her hand pulled up hard, like she’s reeling."Quick Niles take a picture of us!" Her hand above Max’s head, like a trophy fish. "I caught myself a loud-mouth, blue-gilled, belly-acher."

Niles and CC laughed.

Maxwell made a face and pushed Fran’s hand away. "Okay, maybe I gripe a little, but that’s only because I have reason to."

Fran mimicked Max, "Fran, stop using my Tony to crack walnuts!"

CC joined in, "CC, why is there a crack in the limo’s sunroof?!"

Niles added, "Niles, stop using my floss to tie up your wife!"

Maxwell put his hands up in surrender. "Fine, you want me to ease up, I will."

"Oh, please! As if you could." Fran snorted.

Suddenly remembering something, Niles exited the room quickly.

CC eyed his back curiously and followed him further inside their home.

Max folded his arms, "Just watch me. I bet I can go all day tomorrow without complaining once."

Fran turned to him in surprise. "I’ll take that bet." She stuck her hand out.

He grinned. "Alright - and the winner gets?"

"Satisfaction."

"I thought I give you that every night." Maxwell’s eyebrow quirked.

"Every night?"

"Well, sweetheart you have been falling asleep early a lot lately."

"As if that stops you." Fran smiled, "Okay, the winner gets what ever he or she wants," Fran challenged. "Is it a bet?"

Maxwell fudged, "Well…"

"I knew it!"

Annoyed, "Deal!" He shook her hand.

"Niles, what are you…oh no, not that damn computer again!" CC pushed the door wider and stared hard at her husband.

"Just one second, let me type in my password…"

"This has got to stop. You’re obsessed! It’s hard to compete with your mistress Dot."

Niles looked at her in confusion, "Who’s Dot?"

"Dot com! I want you to stop ordering things." Her arms widen. "Look at this room. We still have to unpack our belongings and all you ever do is open box after box of eBay stuff."

"It’s not just stuff," Niles replied defensively. "Look at this hat," he picked up a Mexican sombrero, "you would have to go to another country to get something like this."

"Perfect. What can you do with it now?"

"Wear it, see?" He grinned at her as he pulled the strap under his chin.

"The only good thing that hat is good for is if I can whack you with a stick and candy falls out your bum." CC deadpanned.

"You can always make a bet with him," Fran replied as she stuck her head into the room after eavesdropping.

"What?" Niles asked as he took off his international headgear.

"Nanny Fine, do you always have to butt your head into our business?"

"Alright fine. Far be it for me to try to help you wean Niles from his eBay habit."

"Get back in here!" CC demanded.

Fran had the biggest grin as she walked in the room. "Max and I just made a bet to stop him from complaining for a whole day. All you have to do is bet Niles he can’t stay away from making another bid and if he can’t resist its pull - you have got yourself a slave for the day."

They both laugh.

Niles gave Fran a glare, "Thanks a lot."

"It’s for your own good," she pointed out. "I know exactly what you’re going through."

Early the next morning the music from the clock radio is heard. Maxwell’s arm reached out from underneath the covers and Barry Manilow’s ‘Copacobana’ is silenced.. He sleepily walked to the shower and twenty minutes later emerged with a soft white cotton towel wrapped around his waist, droplets of water still glistened on his chest. Yawning, he pulled his dresser drawer open.

"Fran!" He yelled in shocked tones, a few moments later.

Her head immediately popped up from her pillow like a Jack-in-the-box. "What? What’s wrong? Are the babies crying?"

"What is this?" Maxwell held up an objectionable unmentionable whose front part resembled a vegetable and had two thin black straps in the back. One to wrap around his waist and the other…Maxwell shuddered at where that would go.

Fran slowly smiled. "Complaining sweetheart?"

Realization hit Max’s face. "No," he replied with forced sweetness, "where are my white boxers? There are none in this drawer."

"You know I could not believe that each and every one of your underwear were exactly the same."

Maxwell gritted his teeth, "Fran, I…"

Fran interrupted, "And doubled over into the cutest little squares. What do you have, some underwear fairy who comes in and folds them for you?"

"Fran!"

She smiled knowingly, "Yes?"

"I have a very important meeting today and I need my white silk boxers, not this." He tossed it at her.

"What’s wrong with this? I think that it’s very fashionable." She grinned at him as she fingered the material.

"Fran."

"Max."

"Alright fine. I have no problem with this," he stared at it unhappily. "A cucumber. You couldn’t have picked out something more colorful…like a carrot? What am I saying?!"

"I almost got you a gherkin, but I knew you would have busted the hell out of those seams!" She winked.

Maxwell blushed.

"What’s wrong with your finger, Niles?" Brighton asked as he bit into his omelette.

Placing his coffee cup carefully down, Niles glanced as his left pointer finger tapped spasmodically on the table. "Itchy clicker finger."

"What?" Grace looked at him strangely.

"He misses clicking on his computer mouse," CC explained brusquely, "it’s an annoying habit he has now."

Niles leaned over and whispered in her ear, "You didn’t seem to mind it at all during Leno."

A blissful smile entered her face. "You got that right," she whispered back. "Now that you’re paying more attention to me again, I get it infrequently."

Niles looked confused.

"I meant that in two words," she smiled. And they shared a moment of soft laughter.

Brighton and Grace exchanged puzzled looks, shrugged their shoulders and continued to eat their breakfast.

"Are you sure you don’t want to read your email this morning Niles?" CC asked artfully, her voice lilting at the end.

"Not interested," he grumped. He snapped open the newspaper.

"Why? Our bet was only for eBay…"

"You know darn well once I am online, that the urge to go to eBay will be too strong to resist."

"That’s what I’m counting on," CC smiled as she brought her coffee cup to her lips.

"Oh Niles, that reminds me. Someone on that website is selling a prop that Petula Clark used in her play at the Pantages," Brighton remarked.

Niles’ eyes widened, "When she was doing ‘Sunset Boulevard’?"

"Uh huh."

"Tempting Niles?" CC asked.

Niles squinted a glare at her. "Not in the least bit. In fact, thoughts of eBay are barely a blip in my subconscious. Now if you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll go see what I should prepare for dinner tonight."

As she watched her husband depart, CC pulled her briefcase from underneath the table. "Here are the headshots of the twenty-something blonde bits of fluff we’ll be using for background scenery." She handed black and white photographs to Brighton.

He eagerly took them.

"Good job," CC grinned before she left to see what her husband was up to.

"You’re pathetic," Gracie shook her head as she sipped her orange juice.

"I’m pathetic? I’m not the one who has to keep fluffing up my coif so that Dad doesn’t see a bad case of ‘helmet’ hair."

"Quiet!" Gracie looked around to make sure that they were alone, "Besides it’s all worth it. I love walking around the mall arm in arm with my very own blonde stud. And Jimmy is very sweet."

"Yep," Brighton struck a macho pose, "that must be the reason why I have to fight them off with a stick."

"A gluestick," Gracie teased. "And I said blonde, not blind."

"Hey, is it my fault that Sammy wanted to teach me the Top 10 Ways to Pick Up Chicks by Stevie Wonder?" He pulled on very dark sunglasses and rolled his head from side to side.

Gracie shook her head and mouthed, "Pa-the-tic."

CC poked her head in the kitchen, "Niles?" Her eyes glanced over at Bernice doing the dishes and quickly spotted an extension cord. Hand over hand, she followed it to a partially closed door.

CC’s lips quirked as she opened the broom closet and spied Niles sitting there with his laptop. "Hello, hello. What do we have here?"

A dustbin fell down and narrowly missed his head as he quickly stood up. "Nothing."

As she leaned casually against the door frame, "It doesn’t look like nothing to me."

Niles strode out of the darkness, "I was just…"

"Yes?"

"…going to bid…"

"Aha!" CC crowed triumphantly.

"…adieu to my Great Aunt Dinah," he finished with a crooked grin.

"I don’t see a phone in your hand." She crossed her arms in front of her, "And the computer was for…," CC questioned further.

"Keeping my lap warm as I sat in the darkness contemplating what to say to my poor Aunt Dinah, whom I haven’t spoken to in years." Niles replied trying to charm his way out.

"Uh huh…"

Loud voices entered their vicinity.

"Oh listen, the Sheffields are arguing. Let’s go see what about!" He crooked his elbow at her.

"It’s only because I overheard Maxwell saying cucumber and underwear in the same sentence that you are getting out of this," she answered as she slipped her hand in.

The entering couple looked with open curiosity as Fran stood there laughing so hard, that her mouth was wide open and a strong gasp escaped hissingly out as she clutched her sides in mirth.

Maxwell looked at her in annoyance as he squirmed in his seat, trying to get comfortable.

"What’s going on?" Niles questioned, noticing that the children had left.

"Just sitting down for breakfast. That’s all," he grimaced as he squirmed some more.

"Why are you making such strange faces?" CC sat down to his left.

"Because," Fran said as she wiped escaping tears from her eyes. "I bought him some new underwear yesterday. Honey, would you like to disrobe and show them your new ensemble?" She asked coyly.

"I would not."

"You mean you actually managed to part him from his long standing fetish with white silk boxers?" Niles asked in surprise as Bernice came in with a pot of coffee.

"It wasn’t a fetish," Maxwell grumbled.

"So you’re in Fruit of the Looms, what’s the big deal?" CC commented as she held out her cup. Bernice poured efficiently, served everyone else and left.

"The big deal is," Maxwell waited until the four of them were alone again, "it’s something from Farmer Brown’s Exotic Garden Wear."

Niles laughed, "I see…someone has been shopping at…," he grinned at his wife.

In unison, "Skimpy and Skewy!"

"No, just me. Sylvia is still trying to park the car," Yetta thumbed over her shoulder as she entered the kitchen.

"Yetta!" Fran walked over and gave her grandmother a hug. "How did you get here?"

"Your parents are finally back from their trip to Mexico. And your ma picked me up at the home." She looked over at Maxwell. "What’s wrong with your husband?"

"Oh, he’s just having a slight problem with his…y’know," she winked.

Yetta nodded understandingly. "I can help you with that." She opened her fanny pack and walked over to Maxwell, "Here, I still have a little bit of my prune undies left."

Maxwell grimaced and backed away quickly in his seat, "Ahh yes, umm… I think I’ll pass on that Yetta…well, work calls."

Fran gave him a big kiss. "Okay honey and remember you are on your honor - no complaining!"

Max nodded, "Yes dear."

CC stood up, "You too Niles. Just one bid and you’ll be peeling grapes for me." She wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him a kiss.

Niles scowled as he accepted the kiss. "Yes dear. Oh god, I’m turning subservient!"

"As opposed to your many years as my butler?" Maxwell asked.

"Better fringe benefits."

CC grinned as her fingernail lightly scraped the bottom of his chin and winked a good-bye.

Niles stared forlornly at the computer screen, the cursor blinked at him, goading him online. He closed the laptop lid with a sigh.

Fran entered the living room. "Niles, would you mind watching the babies for me? I think I’ll go visit Max at the studio and put him out of his misery," Fran grinned.

"Anything to keep my mind on something else." He waved, "Have a good time."

Fran waved a pair of Max’s silk boxers over her shoulder as she walked away, "Oh, I will."

Maxwell looked up from his paperwork at the sound of light tapping on his office door. "Come in." His eyes widened and he stood up quickly as she came in.

"Maxwell darling, you look absolutely delicious as always," she purred her greeting.

"Cloe," he replied flabbergasted. He stood there as his eyes appraised his ex-girlfriend’s lithesome body. "H-h-how have you been?"

Gracefully her hips swung as she walked around his desk. "My dear, I have been feeling miserable since the day we parted."

"Yes well…you were the one who stood me up…again," Maxwell replied as his eyes closed. Her familiar scent filled his senses.

"That couldn’t be helped, my love. I had some things I needed to do," she reached out and took his hands in hers.

"It’s been five years!"

"Aren’t I worth the wait, my darling?" her breath tickled his ear as her arms coiled around his neck.

"Uhhh…"

Something made Fran pause before she made her usual exuberant greeting to her husband and instead she peeked in the slightly opened office door. Her eyes enlarged with anger and astonishment as she spied her husband in the arms of another woman.

Maxwell untangled her arms and stepped back. He rubbed his hands nervously together as he walked a few steps away. "Many things have changed since I last saw you Cloe."

The ex-model posed provocatively against his desk and waited for him to turn around and get the full effect. "Yes," her voice lilted, "Cloe Simpson Models Incorporated is doing quite well."

Maxwell turned and his eyes stared in appreciation. The lure of her curvaceous body still seemed to be irresistible to his manly senses. He shook the spell away and cleared his throat. "I mean that I am married and a father of five now."

"Oh, yes, yes - so I’ve heard," she replied dismissively. With feline fluidity, she walked towards him. "She doesn’t have to know. I just need my Maxwell fix," her face looked up at him and she licked her lips suggestively. "Darling, you know we belong together."

Max felt her hands tilt his face closer to hers. Their lips came close. Closer still. And in those few moments, as they stared at one another, a smile spilt onto his face. A relieved chuckle escaped and it bubbled into an ecstatic laugh.

Her eyebrows furrowed, "Maxwell?"

"It’s gone Cloe. It’s finally gone!" he exclaimed as he took her hand and twirled her away from him.

"What is?"

Fran itched to burst in, but in a very un-Fine family way, she kept her mouth closed and continued to observe.

"Your hold on me! Finally, I found the antidote that held me spell bound to you all these years."

She feigned misunderstanding, "What do you mean Maxwell darling?"

"This," he lovingly picked up a cherry-wood framed photograph portrait of Fran smiling beguilingly within. "My Fran has enchanted me with her Flushing charms and I will be bewitched by my lovely bride for eternity."

"But…" Cloe began to say.

"No," he held his hand up, "I think you should be going."

"But…"

The two turned as one as they felt the whoosh of the office door swing wide.

Fran stared hard at her rival. Her hands on her waist, legs spread out as she raised her chin challengingly. "You heard him, Madam Pist. This man isn’t big enough for the two of us." To the side, "Well, actually he is, but that’s besides the point."

"Fran!" Maxwell exclaimed embarrassingly.

She sauntered over to her husband, "Come here, you." Her fingers glided through the soft, silky strands of his black mane. Her bright red fingernails lightly grazed his scalp, causing him to involuntarily shudder.

His eyes closed as his wife’s lips traced feather light kisses upon his before she finally gave in to each of their desires and deepened the kiss. Her lips seemed to embrace his druggedly. A soft smack was heard as she pulled away. Both held on to each other to keep from falling. Their eyes glazed over.

Max gasped, "Wow!"

Fran shook her head, "Oh yeah!"

Cloe stamped her foot, "Maxwell!"

He leaned hard against his desk, still dazed.

Fran smiled triumphantly, "TKO!" Then she turned threateningly towards the blonde. "Get anywhere near my husband again with those lips and I’ll rip ‘em off and shove it where the Pist don’t shine - get it?!"

Cloe gulped, nodded and quickly departed.

"And as for you!" She turned to her husband.

"Fran, I can explain…"

"You don’t have to. I saw the whole thing," she smiled.

"You did? And you stayed quiet?!" He said in pure astonishment.

"I was polishing my brass knuckles," she winked. "C’mon let’s go home. I brought you a reward," she took his boxers from within the confines of her purse.

He smiled in relief. "Actually, there’s something to be said for…snugness." He hugged her. "Why don’t you tell CC that I’ll be taking the rest of the day off and she should follow suit. I’ll be out there shortly."

"Okay," she smiled and kissed him. "I love you."

"I love you more," he winked at her and watched her leave. His hand reached behind him and pulled his wallet out. He removed a matchbook from within the folds and stared at the faded print. ‘Water Gardens Bed & Breakfast - Luxemburgh’. He grinned to himself as he crumpled it in his hand and dropped it in the rubbish bin. "The Battle of Luxemburgh is over," he murmured happily. "Goodbye Cloe…and good riddance." He picked up the phone, dialed quickly and greeted gaily, "Sylvia - I need a favor from my favorite mother-in-law…"

CC stretched her arms above her head and moaned appreciatively as she worked the kinks out.

"Starting without me again I see," Niles grinned as he opened her office door.

"Niles!" she exclaimed in surprised happiness.

"You were suppose to be home hours ago. You do realize your business partner said to take the rest of the day off like he did?"

"I know, but I wanted to finish up here," she motioned to the stacks of manila folders on her desk.

"And are you?"

"Almost."

"Ehh, wrong answer!" he buzzed. "And here are your second place prizes." He wheeled in a small trolley.

CC giggled at the bowl of peeled grapes next to a silver platter of grilled game hen kebobs on a bed of wild rice. "Mmm…that smells great."

Dryly, "Well, I had to do something to keep my mind off that auction website. So I cooked two sumptuous feasts. Ours and the Sheffield’s. Which means," he took her hand in his as he lead her to their impromptu dinner, "the bet is over - and I won."

"I can’t believe you actually did it."

"Well, believe it and it wasn’t easy," he replied.

"Wait a minute! What’s the first place prize?" CC demanded to know.

Niles grinned and winked, "A classic European roadster with…

CC interrupted catching on, "…lots and lots of mileage…"

"Operates great with the top up or down…," Niles added.

"…but sputters to a stop at the most inconvenient times…," CC put in.

"…leather interior…"

CC grinned, "…and…..did you just say leather interior?"

Niles drawled, "Yes."

"Niles, shut the door."

"Yes, dear," he smiled as the lock clicked on the knob.

"Yetta, Sammy is here!" Fran called out as she led him to the couch in the living room.

"Coming," she replied as she walked slowly into the room. "Hiya baby!" she greeted.

"There’s my Yiddish Mama!" Sammy greeted back and patted the space next to him.

Fran smiled adoringly at them. "Well, I’ll be packing for my romantic get away with Maxwell. You two have fun and just yell if you need anything."

"Okay, thanks Frannie," her grandmother replied.

"Yetta," Sammy said sweetly as he took her hand in his.

"Yes, baby," Yetta replied. "Oh wait. My glasses are fogged up." she took them off and set them down. "I think I have some tissue in here," as she rummaged through her fanny pack, her glasses slid down and fell on the floor. "Found some. Hmm…now where are my glasses," her hand patted the couch blindingly.

"What do they look like baby?" Sammy grinned.

"It’s okay, I’ll find them." As she stood up and took a slight step …crunch.

"Uhh…Yetta, was that your arthritis acting up again?" Sammy asked worriedly.

"Uh…oh," she leaned over as her fingers glided on the carpet until it finally landed on the bent frame. She placed it on her nose and tried to balance them. "It’s okay, they still work. Now what did you want to say to me?"

"Good. Um…Yetta, my sweet thing…wanna tie the knot?" He gently squeezed her hand and his other hand came over and after a moments of feeling around, managed to glide a ring on her finger. A big grin filled his face.

"Whoo-ha!" Yetta exclaimed.

Two big haired heads popped in through the door way.

"Ma - did my Fine family radar detect a marriage proposal?" Sylvia asked as she and Fran walked hurriedly into the room.

"Yeah. My Sammy just proposed to me!" Yetta gleefully announced.

"I thought Sammy proposed to you two years ago?" Fran asked.

In unison, Yetta and Sammy replied, "He did?/I did?"

"Yeah, that's why you have two engagement rings on your fingers."

"Oh yeah...," Yetta turned over her hand as the chandelier glanced off the diamonds, "I wondered where these came from. I thought I got them from Grampa Al."

Fran interjected, "You mean Grampa Joe."

Sylvia shook her head, "His name was Schlomo!"

Yetta patted Sammy's arm, "Never mind, I like the one Sammy gave me much better." She lifted her hand up to show the new one off.

Sylvia said loudly, "But he gave you...never mind." She bit her lip as a thought popped into her head and commented, "Uh...Ma, don't you think Daddy would want his little girl to have the rings he gave you?"

Fran smacked her mother’s shoulder, "Ma!"

Sylvia shrugged and smiled.

"Aren’t you going to answer him Yetta?" Fran urged.

"Who?"

"Sammy!"

"What did he want?"

"To marry you!" Fran and Sylvia yelled.

"Oh yeah," Yetta placed her hands on each side of Sammy’s face, "I could never resist a chocolate dreidel."

Sammy tilted his face up and his white teeth gleamed.

"Of course, I would love to marry you."

Sylvia and Fran hugged each other as they watched them kiss.

Yetta looked over at them, "Could we have some privacy here?"

"Sorry." They both say before they turned around.

As they walked away, they heard Yetta whisper, "What flavor undie do you wanna try this time - milk of magnesia or the chocolate laxative?"

So wha'd ya think? Any good? Be sure
to post your two cents worth on the

7.11 The Main Event by Laura Carvajal Yetta and Sammy are finally getting married, and it's all up to Fran to make this the wedding of the millenium. Meanwhile, the Sheffield men are having trouble coping with not being in New York on Sara's birthday for the first time - but is Fran too busy to notice?

Back to The Virtual Seventh Main Page

Back to Fan Fiction

Back to The Really Unofficial Nanny Home Page