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Fran Fine doesn't get speechless. That's kind of her schtick. She always knows what to say and then some more, it's her blessing – or a curse, depends on who you ask. That's why it comes as a surprise, a huge shocker really, when she finds herself at a loss for words after 29 years of her life. Repeatedly.
i.
The first time it happens, Fran is in the living room, picking up leftover mess after the kids. Mr Sheffield and Miss Babcock are standing by, engaged in a disagreement about an important business decision which Fran isn't really paying attention to anymore because she counts on Niles to give her a summary together with juicy details later in the kitchen.
After a while CC decides it's probably pointless trying to convince Maxwell with rational arguments, so she turns to sweep past Niles towards the door.
"Maxwell, for your own good, give up. It's a futile fight. For God's sake, I know when I'm licked."
Fran stops dead in her tracks next to Niles, her jaw drops and eyes widen as she stares at the door flung closed after the blonde.
I know when I'm licked.
Fran's brain just short-circuits. Her up-until-now-comfortably-straight-mind is suddenly conjuring up images that are way beyond any PG movie rating scale and she just doesn't know what to do with them or with herself and also where the hell did that come from.
Niles turns to her, looking like he wants to say something, but Fran still needs a second to snap out of that, whatever it is, so she raises her hand to stop him.
"Just give me a minute to get that image out of my head."
But how do I get that image out of my head?!?!
"Nope, nope. Gonna have to live with it."
Which is basically the beginning.
ii.
The next occasion is…pretty similar to the first one in a way, but catches Fran off-guard possibly even more.
She is about to leave for her date with Lenny, her long-time pen pal, and Mr Sheffield is coming with her to make sure she's comfortable and to save her in case she needs it. It's fabulous and she should be over the moon and completely focused on Mr Sheffield because he is holding her hand and that is pretty damn big, right? Yep.
But then Miss Babcock brushes past them with "Hello, hello! Ready to work?" and Fran completely forgets about her hand, her date and honestly, every single man on the planet. Her jaw drops to the floor as she checks out the blonde’s outfit, the curve-hugging black dress and her gaze gets lost somewhere in the deep plunge of CC's cleavage.
And Fran is pretty sure she would have stayed rooted to the spot staring forever if Mr Sheffield didn't excuse them and drag her away without as much as a pause about CC's outfit.
Which is basically the first time Fran seriously considers if both her and Mr Sheffield aren't actually gay.
iii.
A different day. The two of them are in the kitchen. It's almost domestic, if Fran allowed herself to think about it, which she certainly doesn't. CC is standing at the kitchen isle, leaning against it, flipping through newspapers and some magazines laid out in front of her. Fran is sitting at the table, painting her nails, occasionally stealing stealthy glances at the blonde.
"Nanny Fine," CC suddenly breaks the silence, her voice soft - Fran has noticed lately that Miss Babcock's tone changes when she talks to her, especially in private. It's gentler than when she talks to Niles or Maxwell or anyone, really. Or maybe Fran is just imagining that as part of some twisted wishful thinking.
"Hm?" she raises her head to see CC's amused smirk at whatever it is in the magazine she's looking at.
"Come here," she says, and gestures for Fran to come hither by bending her middle and ring finger repeatedly.
Fran freezes and her eyes widen as she focuses on the hand movement. Who does that, can't she just be normal and use normal gestures and not, you know…make Fran's definitely-not-thinking-about-it a lot more difficult?
"Nanny Fine, are you alright?" CC asks, raising an eyebrow as she takes in Fran's reaction and tries to decipher what could have caused it.
"Yea, coming!" Fran manages in a strained voice and her subconscious choice of words makes her blush. She rushes to CC's side and stands maybe a bit closer than necessary, leaning forward to see what the blonde is pointing at.
"Isn't this that high-school classmate of yours?"
Fran scans the Worst Dressed List page in the People Magazine and spots, indeed, her high-school classmate on the arm of some rich old guy.
"Naomi Dembo! And what is that dress, that hasn’t been stylish in at least six years! If you wanna be a trophy wife, at least dress the part," Fran exclaims, waving her hand dismissively. "Wait." she turns to CC. "You've never met her. You actually listen to me?"
CC internally panics after revealing too much, not wanting to suddenly come across as someone who cares, but she manages an almost convincing non-committed tone: "Your voice is difficult to tune out."
Fran tilts her head, smiles and lays her hand on CC's upper back, careful not to leave a nail polish smudge. "Ya know, Miss Babcock, underneath that prickly shell of yours is a really lovely woman."
CC just stares back, absolutely flabbergasted by the compliment and the casual touch. She doesn't know how to react so she just nods awkwardly and mutters a quiet thank you before quickly grabbing all her reading materials and shooting out of the kitchen with the speed of light.
iv.
Time goes on and Fran has slowly begun to accept she might have a teeny tiny bit of a crush on Miss Babcock, but like, so small it isn’t worth talking about to anyone. It will pass soon anyway. It’s been over a year so anytime now.
Fran walks into the office, finding the rest of the adults there, each paying attention to their respective tasks.
"Hi Miss Babcock," she greets the blonde sitting on the couch and smiles at Niles on her way to Mr Sheffield's chair. "Mr Sheffield, I wanted to tell you that Brighton is planning to go with his friends to the cinema after the practice and I'm picking up Gracie after school to take her shopping, cause she needs new shoes, you know, for the recital, and Maggie--" Fran freezes mid-sentence.
In an attempt to avoid eye contact with Mr Sheffield before asking him a risky question on behalf of the eldest kid, she looks to her left and spots Miss Babcock putting on glasses. Great. Just great. Now I have a glasses fetish or something?! She just keeps staring at the blonde, her mouth slightly agape.
CC looks up and meets her gaze, the corner of her mouth curling into a smirk and her eyebrow raising in a question, or a dare maybe? And Fran feels like She knows. She could just be happy that Fran is making an idiot of herself in front of Mr Sheffield and her, but the glint in her eyes makes Fran feel like she knows, she must know and that doesn't make the panic dissipate any easier.
"And Maggie, Miss Fine?" Mr Sheffield asks to tear her out of her trance.
"Maggie?" Fran turns to him, shaking her head to get the obsessive thoughts out of her head.
"You're going shopping with Gracie, and Maggie--?" Mr Sheffield asks patiently and Fran can hear Niles snicker behind her and she absolutely hates him for it because it makes her feel like he knows too and that’s just not fair.
"Uh, Maggie wants to ask you a favour, I'll leave that to her," Fran says quickly and bolts out of the office, missing the amused smile and fond look CC throws her way.
v.
One winter night, the adults are having a dinner together with a couple of important guests, two investors and hopefully the main star of Maxwell and CC's new play. The conversation is flowing nicely and the atmosphere seems really good, from what Fran can judge with the little attention she's paying, like there is a sure deal about to happen.
Fran doesn't really know why she's there, but she doesn't ask and frankly doesn't even care if her function there is purely decorative. She's sitting opposite Miss Babcock who's wearing a scandalously sexy black top so Fran is honestly happy to be there just to enjoy the view.
Suddenly she feels a caress on her ankle and gasps before she can stop herself.
"Is everything alright, Miss Fine?" Mr Sheffield asks and Fran notices everyone at the table pauses to glance at her. CC gives her a penetrating look.
"Y-yea, the meatball was just spicier than I expected," Fran squeaks an excuse that seems satisfying enough as everyone returns to their plates. Everyone but Miss Babcock, who raises her eyebrow and gives her a tiny smile. So it was her! Fran's mind is reeling, trying to figure out what it means or what to do before she feels CC's bare foot on the inside of her calf.
Fran is once again speechless. Not that she could say anything, what do you even say when you have important guests over and the person everyone considers to be your enemy and whom you have literally just the tiniest crush on starts playing footsie with you under the table? Would you excuse me and Miss Babcock for a second, I have to go fuck the living daylights out of her. Yea sure.
Not that Fran doesn’t seriously consider it when CC's foot steals up to her inner thigh.
+
Fran eventually chooses the route of self-preservation and gets up to refill her glass at the serving table.
Miss Babcock chooses that moment to excuse herself and leave for the bathroom. It takes a split of a second for Fran to make the decision and suddenly she's sneaking out of the dining room and following CC, slipping into the bathroom right before the door closes.
CC gasps in surprise, but when she sees it's Fran, she smiles and there's that glint in her eyes again-
“What is your problem?!” Fran says in a hushed voice, waving her arms dramatically as if making herself bigger would help anything in this situation.
"What is my problem, Nanny Fine?" CC asks incredulously but with a notable hint of amusement in her voice, "You're the one looking at me like you want to devour me."
"That's not true!" Fran blushes slightly and decides to go for denial, which is basically a reflex for her by now, because this is nothing, means nothing, and everyone has sex dreams and fantasies about their friends of the same gender, that's normal.
"Oh, really? Then why are you looking at me like that? And while you're at it, you can also explain the panicked looks whenever I wear something low-cut or tailored, or why you seem to go speechless around me - and no one else - every now and then – not that I don't enjoy it, it's nice and rare to have some peace and quiet in this house-"
Fran just kisses her. To make her stop rambling and spouting evidence and uncomfortable questions that make this seem like it means something.
CC places one hand on Fran's face and the other one into her hair, pulling her close and kissing her back with matching hunger. Fran wraps her arms around the blonde's waist, bringing her flush against herself, moaning at the full-body contact.
When they finally part for air, CC doesn't hesitate and starts placing hot, wet kisses along Fran's neck, eliciting a needy whimper at the back of the brunette's throat.
"Don't make a sound," CC whispers into her ear and for once, Fran finds that absolutely impossible to achieve.