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This was Michaela’s eighth straight day of rain, and it took everything in her not to scream. She hated rain.
She was also hungry.
Thankfully, the rain was fake.
She was doing some pickups on the big climactic fight sequence for Storm 2:Title Pending. Michaela had hoped the subtitle would be "Weather Witch," but the studio was trying to push "Queen of Wakanda."
That was like the D plot of the movie and more of a setup for the next Black Panther, but whatever. She sighed from underneath her parka before looking at Gareth.
“And cut. Let’s take 5?” Gareth yelled as he looked at her. She shook her head. “Lunch. Let’s break for lunch.”
The crew sighed in relief as Michaela watched her formally cowering extras stand up and grab the towels offered to them.
“Please tell me I have no phone calls,” Michaela said, taking off her parka. Her new assistant jumped, shocked that she knew he was there.
Greg shook his head. “No.”
Michaela sighed. Greg was a…competent assistant. He was having more fun on set with her than in the Bridgerton Production offices, but she could tell he would rather be doing something else.
Like following Lucy around. Or Hermione? She didn’t know which one he was into at this point.
“What about Kate?”
“Kate said she’ll call you tonight.”
“Sounds good.”
“You do have a visitor,” Greg said. He scrambled as she power-walked across the set. Despite being a foot taller than her, her brother-in-law could not keep up with her when she started walking.
“From the studio?”
“Uh, no.”
Michaela stopped. “Who?”
They arrived at her trailer. "It’s not bad.”
“Are they in my trailer? Greg, what’s the rule?”
Greg winced. “No one in your trailer.”
“Exactly. Now who-”
“Can you stop terrorizing Greg and come have lunch?” Fran asked from the open trailer door. Michaela blinked twice.
“You’re here?” She felt a grin pull on her face without her permission.
“I am,” Fran smirked.
“Thanks, Greg,” Michaela murmured before walking up the steps. She let Fran pull her up into a kiss.
“Uh, sure,” Greg said before the door slammed.
Michaela looked around. Her trailer, which was a disaster area of thrown jackets, wet clothes, and snack wrap wrappers, was clean. There was a nice setup of sandwiches at her little table, a double stroller parked in front of her clothing rack, and two tiny bodies on her couch.
“You brought them too?” Michaela whispered.
“I did. Sophie is coming back in an hour.” Fran replied. Michaela looked over to see two angelic faces sleeping. She missed them.
“I’ve missed you three.”
“We’ve missed you,” Fran replied. She rubbed Michaela’s back. “You’re wet.”
“It’s raining.”
Fran scrunched her nose. “Still?”
“Cress asked for more reaction shots,” Michaela grumbled. She wasn’t mad at Cress. She was…spread a bit too thin.
Fran’s rubbing turned into a massage. “Your shoulders are tight.”
“Only 165 days,” Michaela replied.
“Then?”
Michaela looked at her wife. Fran hadn’t said it, but she wanted her to take a break.
A real one.
To be fair, Michaela couldn’t remember the last time she had a real break. Since the success of Match, Michaela had been in high demand. She would have been an idiot not to capitalize on it. So she did.
She went from Storm to the Wicked run to Whistledown season 5 to helping write the script for the X-Men reboot to making a movie with John about Beverley Ditsie. In between that, they got married and had the twins.
Currently, she was filming Storm 2 while producing Dickens while also writing an idea that she wanted to film later…and raising twins.
Michaela hasn’t had a true break in five years. She was doing what she loved, but…she was also in dire need of a nap.
“Then, I plan on taking at least two years off.”
“Really?”
“Yes. I need to. I miss you. I want to come to New York and watch them while you work.”
Fran smiled. “I’m not asking-”
“I know.” Michaela kissed her. “I know.”
Fran sighed. “I didn’t come here to play nagging wife.”
“Well, you didn’t come here for an afternoon delight either, so…” Michaela shrugged, smiling when Fran burst out laughing.
“May I offer you a sandwich from your favorite place as an apology?”
“Yes.”
Michaela allowed Fran to push her into a chair, then theatrically groaned when she took a bite.
Fran blushed as she ate her own lunch.
“You’re too good to me,” Michaela told her.
“I know.”
The door to her trailer opened to show Sophie walking in with baby Violet. “Hello?”
“Hello.” Michaela chirped back, their daughter in her arms while Fran buckled their son back in the stroller. “You’re right on time.”
“You look tired,” Sophie replied.
“Thank you. I’ll never get an ego with you around.” Fran took their baby girl after Michaela pressed a quick kiss to her head.
Sophie laughed before wincing at Violet roughly flipping through her notes.
“She’s fine. Vi, no hug?” Michaela grinned as her niece skipped over to hug her. “I’ve missed you.”
She got a muffled Hi back before she went to hug Fran. Michaela stood up.
“Do I need to walk you to the car?”
“Nope, Greg’s got it." The door to her trailer opened to show Greg.
Sophie and Greg lifted the stroller to walk it down the stairs. “We’ll leave you parents to say goodbye.”
She waved goodbye to Violet with Fran, then sighed.
“You looked relaxed,” Fran said.
“You were just what I needed.” Michaela pulled her into a hug. “I feel like I could film for 8 more hours.”
“Please don’t.” Fran pouted.
“Oh, no. I want to eat dinner with you.”
Fran smiled. “Good.”
Michaela felt herself relax and reenergize. She kissed Fran. “Thank you.”
“Any time.”
She let Fran put her parka back on before they left the trailer. Gareth was right outside.
“Hey Fran. Boss, we’re ready to go.”
“Alright. See you later, love.” She kissed Fran before hopping in the waiting golf cart and waving. She got five waves back.
She got home early for once. They had knocked out their shots with ease after lunch, and Michaela was somehow ahead of schedule.
She closed the door and heard a soft tune from the back of the house. She dropped her backpack, thrilled that she was going to be in the editing bay with Cress for the rest of the week while they waited for their lead to be done with Avengers reshoots, then slid off her sneakers before walking towards the piano.
The twins were sitting in the playpen, watching Fran play on the piano. Their loyal stewards, Wolfgang and Guillermo, were waiting to attack anyone who dared to upset their charges.
Fran was focused on the music while also keeping an eye in case a battle royale broke out.
A squawk of excitement broke her concentration, followed by two dachshunds scampering over scratches. She knelt and gave them what they wanted.
“What?” Fran turned and beamed. “You’re home.”
Michaela smiled, answering the arms stretched out to her. “I am. And hello to you, young sir.”
She got a hug in response.
“You’re just in time for dinner.” Fran stood up.
“Whose dinner?”
“Theirs.”
Michaela playfully groaned. She was going to be covered in sweet potatoes by the time that was over.
She ended up covered in avocado, which was surprising considering they did not like avocado the last time Michaela was home long enough to help them eat.
She sighed at how different her children were from last week as Fran returned with ice cream.
“The avocado just happened this morning.”
Michaela kissed her temple. “Twice in one day?”
“It was to mask the peas.”
Michaela hummed. “You’re sneaky.”
Fran leaned into her side before turning on the TV. “I saved the new Doctor Who episodes for you.”
Michaela put an arm around her before taking a bite of her cookie dough.“You are the best wife.”
Fran grinned at her. “I know.”
The sound of actual rain reached her ears, waking her up the next morning before her alarm. Michaela sighed, pulling Fran closer.
It never rained this time of year, and Michaela couldn’t help but take that as a sign. She was getting filled back up so she could get over the line.
Fran murmured in her neck before pulling back. “What time is it?”
“Six something.”
Fran smiled. “They let us sleep in.”
“This is sleeping in?”
“They have been waking up earlier, trying to see you.”
Michaela raised an eyebrow. “Really?”
Fran nodded before flopping back on her shoulder. “They know when you aren’t here.”
She heard Cress’s text message tone. Fran let out a groan.
“I’m sorry.” She kissed her head before getting up, reading the message…three times to be sure.
“Cress wants to work from home this week. We can zoom later.”
“What?” Fran asked.
Michaela grinned. “I’m staying home.”
Fran’s face held a big smile. “All week?”
“Yep.”
“Hooray!” Fran cheered with a whisper. She was quickly drowned out by twin cries…then howling.
“Is this every morning?”
“Yes.” Fran sighed.
“You stay. I’ll get them.” Michaela smiled at her wife’s excitement to go back to sleep.
She strolled down the hall to see her twins, looking devastated at being in their cribs.
The dogs did too.
They smiled Fran’s smile when they saw her.
“What’s with all the noise?”
She scooped up the kids and felt the dogs trail after her as they walked to the kitchen. They all looked out the patio door, watching the rain come down.
She felt Fran take a baby before putting her free arm around her waist. “I’ve never seen you so happy about rain.”
Michaela laughed. “My opinion may be changing.”
She soaked up being with her favorite people, watching the rain before chaos ensued.
She stepped back, so their kids wouldn’t hit each other in their hunger induced tantrums. “This too?”
Fran nodded. “You’ve missed a lot while you have been working.”
“I’m seeing that.”
Michaela followed Fran into the kitchen, the rain behind her, ready to work on her greatest production yet:
Breakfast.