Truly Closer

Disclaimer: Most of the characters don't belong to yours truly—just felt like altering their lives a bit. No major harm done. ; )

Feedback of any sort is both welcome and appreciated!!! This WILL be a multi-chaptered story. Hope ya'll enjoy!

1.

"He loves me."

Fran Fine pulled a soft, silky white petal from the center of a flower she was currently holding and let it gently fall from her hand, in a flutter, until it abruptly halted at the surface of the kitchen table.

If only those three little words were the undeniable truth. If only those three little words really meant something, because if they did, they sure would mean a lot to her. But then again, if they were true, she wouldn't be doing this in the first place. Hell, she'd probably be hauled up in Mr. Sheffield's office kissing the living daylights out of him and surprisingly, he wouldn't be pulling away.

Boy, wouldn't that be nice? thought Fran. If only it was so simple. If only MR. SHEFFIED was so simple! Instead the complex, repressed basket case he is.

She hesitated a moment before saying the next words. The words that she had always forced herself not to dwell too much on. The words that hopefully didn't describe the way he felt…

"He loves me not."

Fran frowned as she plucked another petal from the creamy center and let it tumble down. Her left hand cradled her head as she twirled the daisy in her right hand, holding it from the stem and sighing. What was she thinking? Of course Mr. Sheffield cared for her, but he didn't love her. And caring and loving a person were too very different things altogether. But to sum it all up neat and cleanly, he just wasn't willing to give up his heart—at all, because quite frankly, it still belonged to his deceased wife.

That was a fact.

Period.

No ifs ands or buts about it.

The truth was as plain as day and the romantic partner/possible wife interest for her just wasn't there or he would have really acted on it by now. No, instead he decided to pitch this lame "friends" schpeel that would only further push back their so-called "relationship." She had had men tell her before that they loved her even though they didn't mean it, but they never actually took it back. Mr. Sheffield just had to do the impossible. He had said it and taken it back before the turn of twenty-four hours. That had to be a world record or something. Someone should have notified the authorities about this tremendous new talent of his! Never before had she seen a man so pathetically incapable to commit. "It will hurt the children," "This really isn't a good time for us," and "What if things didn't work out?" were his top three favorite excuses among the many others. Fran didn't buy into any of it though, because if he sincerely had any deep feelings for her than it would have been worth the risk. She would have been worth the risk. No matter what! If he loved her, truly loved her, than he would have taken the damn chance even if the stakes were high.

She sighed once again.

It was positively useless and this petal-picking was so stupid. So ridiculous. So… juvenile. Fran Fine was not some naïve little school girl. Well… she once was.

The last time she plucked petals off of a flower she was in her schoolyard during fifth grade. She had sat there during recess on the metal jungle gym plucking off petals from the wildflowers in the school garden, wondering if her crush Timmy Edwards liked her. He had light brown hair and dreamy hazel eyes and well, practically every little girl on the block thought he was hot stuff. Even though the flower said he "loved" her, she soon became disappointed and heartbroken when the next day Timmy was holding hands with Georgia Stenback. Who, was formally known then as the prettiest, snobbiest, most popular girl in the whole entire elementary school.

He was a dumb boy anyway… wasn't even that good-looking—okay maybe he was but oh well!

So there was her proof that this stupid flower-picking nonsense was a bunch of bull and a waste of time.

I mean, what idiot came up with the idea that plucking flowers apart will tell the destiny of your love life?

Of course it's really just for amusement and she knew that. For fun. That's something that Fran hadn't done in a long time—really truly had fun. Enjoyed herself completely. What did she do that was fun anymore?

For God's sake, she was a Nanny!

That was one thing that she had not foreseen in her mystical crystal ball of the future. I mean, there was the beautiful house in Great Neck, the lovable Jewish doctor husband and a few adorable kids… but the whole working-for-a-widower-to-take-care-of-his three-troubled-but-charming-children was totally unexpected. Her old friends would have laughed their little tocheses off if they knew what she was doing now. "Poor Frannie!" they would have said. "She's stuck taking care of kids and the worst part about it is that they aren't even hers!" But oh how she loved them so. They meant the world to her and she had to admit that she was fairly happy with her job. It was only the other aspects of her life that were less than thrilling. She suddenly remembered all the partying, lots of dating and club hopping she used to do and then felt a deep nostalgia for it.

I wonder what my old friends are doing. What happened to them anyway?

Truth be told, she hadn't heard from them in ages. Go figure. It was just her and Val now, which wasn't so bad.

After all, Val is a great friend, but she isn't really the "I'm gonna throw caution to the wind" kind of girl!

She tapped her newly manicured, French-tipped nails on the table, which didn't make that loud of a sound, because the tablecloth muted the noise. Fran had spent yesterday afternoon spilling her heart out to her manicurist Charlene while she was getting her nails done. Charlene, like Fran, was a single woman who hadn't had her best of luck with men recently and was able to relate to Fran's situation. So while Charlene was scraping at Fran's cuticles, Fran was blabbing on about her social life or lack thereof one. There was just something about hairdressers, manicurists and all those other beauty shop employees being so easy to talk to. Fran was a fairly outgoing person though, and didn't mind being open to people about most things. She was also always that unpredictable, crazy, impulsive girl. Fran was the one to take chances. She was the one to do the unthinkable. Hell, she didn't take the time to sit back and worry about the consequences. Fran Fine just didn't think twice. That wasn't her style. With her past being so dangerous, you'd think she would regret it. Yet instead, she envied it. Frankly, she was just plain jealous of the old Fran.

Am I losing my touch?

Fran groaned, yanking another petal off the small daisy and uttering the familiar words that followed.

Wait, I have the feeling that I'm supposed to be doing something. What was it? Darn, I don't even remember… Oh well, I'll just leave it for Niles.

Continuing her task again, which was practically annihilating the poor, tiny flower slowly and painfully; she soon became lost in her own little dreamland. Somewhere in the distance, (or what seemed distant) she could hear Nile's voice while her mind was a million miles away. It was him that brought her back to the present.

"Miss Fine, you're messing up my beautiful flower arrangement!" Niles suddenly appeared, pulling Fran out of her daze and grabbing her flower.

He was wearing an apron covering a lovely baby blue button-up shirt that complimented his eyes perfectly and some khaki trousers that were no doubt borrowed from Mr. Sheffield. He was most likely getting ready to prepare breakfast having it being around eight and all this on this lovely Saturday morning in the spring. Niles turned to stick the deformed, drooping flower back in the turquoise vase on the kitchen table.

"Well I'm sorry Niles, but my future is much more important than your interior decorating," said Fran half serious, grabbing the daisy out of the vase in front of her and then plunging back into the wooden chair.

"Oh, but the flowers were so pretty together and they went perfect with the tablecloth!" whined Niles, faking a temper tantrum by throwing his hands up in the air.

"Niles!"

He huffed and then mumbled quickly, "I paid retail at the florist!"

"What was that Niles?"

Niles removed both hands from the counter he was resting them on.

"I PAID RETAIL AT THE FLORIST, OKAY?!"

"Why?" Fran asked teasingly. "We have flowers outside in the garden."

Niles gasped, putting his hand to his mouth. "And ruin my prize azaleas?"

"Niles, you don't have any prize azaleas or… any azaleas for that matter!"

"Yeah, so! The point is, I like my kitchen decorated accordingly and you know I'd make a cute little Martha Stewart!" stated Niles, grinning and doing a pose.

She rolled her eyes and laughed to herself, wondering what the heck he was out doing the night before to be so wild this morning.

"Uh, yeah sure Niles… you're the new Domestic Diva all right! Personally though, I think the little dandelions outside would have worked fine for the vase, but have it your way," said Fran.

"Well, unlike you Nanny Fine, I like to get high-quality things instead of digging in those God-awful discount bins only to get trampy dresses."

She smirked and playfully slapped him on the arm for his Miss Babcock impersonation.

"Which reminds me, I haven't given the old bat her coffee," said Niles, snickering devilishly at exactly what he was going to put in that cup of Joe.

Niles began making Fran's coffee, for the Ice Queen's would take a tad bit longer to brew, because of course he just had to add in his sweaty gym socks from yesterday for that special kick. However, the imitation of the Wicked Witch of the Northeast made Fran somewhat self-conscious, so she reached down to pull the ultra-short skirt of her dress down some while still sitting in the chair.

She didn't dress slutty… Fran just preferred to be openly sexy. I mean hey, if ya got it, flaunt it. Babcock was just jealous, even though she did need to pull her skirt down, because ever since she had sat down it had started to ride up her thighs. No need in giving Niles the all-inclusive view, instead she'd save that pleasure for Mr. Sheffield.

After finally pulling herself together both mentally and physically she then asked, "Seriously though, Niles. YOU paid retail? I find that hard to believe."

Niles placed a hot mug of coffee in front of Fran and then said, "Hey, this is the only room in the house that is mine. It's MY kitchen I tell you!"

He took his pointer finger and stabbed it into his chest in emphasis.

"Sheffield can say he owns my bedroom, the potty, and even my privately concealed spying chambers (he coughed) that-no-one-knows-about-mind-you (he coughed again), but… Big Daddy's got the dibs on the cooking appliances and the shiny new knife set."

Niles had an excited look in his eyes as he manically rubbed his hands together.

"All right Niles, no need to get defensive, I understand," agreed Fran, who couldn't suppress a laugh.

She stirred in some sugar and cream into her French vanilla coffee and watched as it swirled around till it turned really light. Meanwhile, Niles shrugged his shoulders and let them fall way down.

"Well if it makes you feel any better, I'll allow you to pluck a few leaves off the eucalyptus," compromised Niles, sticking the greenery from the vase in front of her. Fran chuckled, blew on her coffee and took a few small sips.

As Niles laid the strand of green down, a few droplets of water dripped onto the table leaving darkening spots amongst the colorful green and blue-checkered tablecloth. Niles gave a charming little smile and then started to wipe it up with his dishrag.

Dear, sweet Niles. Why is it the people like him that end up being just a butler? pondered Fran.

"Ni-yullllles, it just isn't the same! I don't want some crummy piece of Eucalyptus, I want the real thing!" she whined, pouting back at him and going along with this silly game that they were playing.

A nice flower wasn't the only real thing she wanted. She wanted the real thing as in a potential, decent husband too instead of the quacks she had been recently and frequently dating.

"Wait a second, if there are flowers in the garden, why are you messing up mine?"

Fran stopped from drinking her coffee, laying it down slowly onto the table. She gave him her full attention which consisted of a raised eyebrow at his query.

"Pa-lease Niles, who do you think I am? I'm much too lazy to go out and pick one."

"True, very true. I am just glad you didn't try to un-petal the lilies—those cost me a bundle. Well, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to get breakfast started."

After Niles had begun to prepare some of the food, Fran decided she would work on the rest of the petals left on the flower. Niles had just placed some sausages in a frying pan and some biscuits in the oven for breakfast. He was going to make the eggs and other stuff later after the rest of the food was almost done cooking. While waiting, Niles leaned up against the counter with his covered hands, watching Fran. As soon as she plucked the daisy clean, he offered his congratulations knowing of course that this whole thing was about their boss.

"Well done Miss Fine! You landed on a 'he loves me!'"

His gorgeous sapphire eyes twinkled in delight of her success, but Fran didn't seem to be as happy as he thought she would be. Actually, she didn't appear to be quite happy at all.

"Oh Niles, if only life was so simple. Don't you see? I could pick a field full of daisies and he still won't love me," said Fran, dismally.

Niles pulled off his cooking mittens and took a seat next to her. He ran a hand through his sandy blonde strands.

"Mr. Sheffield?"

"No Little Boy Blue, Niles! Of course, Mr. Sheffield!"

Niles felt bad for Miss Fine once again. She only used sarcasm like this when she was upset. He scanned Fran over. There she was in her cute, white with orange and pink polka-dots mini-dress accessorized with white stiletto heels. She had put in on for her lunch date today with some fellow that Val hooked her up with. Val wasn't the perfect matchmaker, but she did have a pretty good judge of character. So today, Fran's hair was down, big and curly as usual, but something was different. Niles realized that she was somewhat shielding her eyes from him and he knew why. There was much pain and unfulfilled-ness behind those chocolate browns. Maybe Mr. Sheffield couldn't see it, but he sure could.

"Maybe I just happened to have counted all the petals beforehand, you know, so that it would say what I wanted it to…" she admitted, her the ends of her lips curling down into a small frown.

"Miss Fine, it's just a flower, not your fate! You're smart enough to know that," said a surprised Niles, thinking that she was actually buying into this.

"It's just the point of it all Niles! I'm dumb for believing a man like him would fall for an ordinary girl like me!" Fran practically almost hollered, slamming down the piece of eucalyptus on the table that she was nervously fingering. "Why do I put myself through this?"

"First off, you are nowhere near ordinary Miss Fine, you are most extraordinary. Second, you have a lot going for you. Mr. Sheffield is the one who is just plain stupid, because I don't know many women who are as lovely and sexy as you are with a heart of gold to match it," said Niles, trying to cheer her up even though everyone including herself knew it was true.

While that compliment did boost Fran's self esteem, she and Mr. Sheffield were not together and that was just upsetting to the highest level possible.

"Yeah, well thank you Niles, but where has that got me? Nothing ever ends up working out. Oy, it's the story of my life."

Upset and on the verge of tears, Fran stood up, stuck the bare stem into the vase and walked out of the kitchen with the door swinging behind her. Niles just sat still in the hard, wooden chair and flicked the remains of the fallen petals around. He felt so defeated and hopeless for a woman frustrated beyond belief, for she was in love with a man who wouldn't give in.