TITLE: A Thousand Glimpses
SERIES: All My Children
AUTHOR:
dreiser
EMAIL: dreiser7@yahoo.com
YAHOO ID: dreiser7
MY WEBSITE: http://www.dreiser.org/
CONTENT: F/F romance. Bianca/Reese. Breeze.
SUMMARY: Reese Williams had experienced a thousand glimpses of the life she always wanted but until she met Bianca Montgomery she never thought she could have it for herself.
DISCLAIMER: I own nothing but my love of cold weather.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: SPOILER WARNING! This chapter contains spoilers for Reese's romantic history. If you have a dislike of spoilers then it's best not to read this chapter or perhaps the rest of the fic as I will rely heavily on them for her background.
A Thousand Glimpses
By: Dreiser
Three
There was a fine art to the ability of effectively pretending you were paying attention to one thing when in reality your interest was completely focused on something else altogether. Reese thought she was doing a superb job at this as she kept her gaze locked onto the café menu, which had a definite seafood theme, all while covertly studying Bianca's delicate features.
Only when she lifted her gaze for perhaps the twelfth time, Reese had the feeling she had failed when she was met with Bianca's effervescent smile that had the a tinge of self deprecating humor twisting at the edges. "I want the mussels," she said.
"All right," said Reese a bit dimly, perplexed by the almost lamenting way Bianca said this, as if she couldn't have them despite the fact the blonde was now staring at an extremely verbose description of their deliciousness on the menu.
"The portions are huge here," Bianca continued and a knowing grin formed on Reese's features as she watched dark eyes become large and hopeful. "Do you like mussels? If you do we can share. Or I can order them for myself and take the leftovers home and try to convince Miranda once again that they're not the slimy tongues of sea monsters."
"I like mussels," Reese chuckled. "But I think Miranda is onto something. They do sort of look like tongues, don't they?"
"Please don't ever tell her you agree with her or I'll never hear the end of it," said Bianca, giving a small groan. She paused and that wide hopeful look was back and she asked, "So you'll share some with me? To prevent me from eating them all myself and getting fat rather than taking them home to scare my daughter with seafood she honestly believes comes from a monster's mouth?"
"Yes, I'll share some mussels with you," agreed Reese in a playful drawl. "I like sharing. Sesame Street taught me the concept."
"Bert and Ernie," said Bianca wisely, clearly having seen just such an episode herself.
"I know it wasn't Elmo," said Reese with a laugh.
"Elmo is overrated," Bianca remarked and a fond smile curved on her lips. "Miranda likes to watch the original Muppet Show with her aunt. Who, for whatever reason, is trying to convince her Miss Piggy is a valid role model."
"She does dress well," said Reese in an attempt to give some measure of defense to the aunt's stance. "And she's assertive, I'd think it's a good thing for little girls to learn how to speak their minds. Maybe in a more polite manner than Miss Piggy but still…"
"You're a peacekeeper, I can already tell," said Bianca warmly. "Everyone has a valid point of view, am I right?"
A blush heating her cheeks, Reese ducked her head and murmured, "It's the truth, isn't it? Whether or not you agree with someone they always deserve the chance to be heard. At least, that's what my father told me."
"Your father is a smart man," said Bianca and though her tone was as genuine and kind as ever there was a sadness there too, clinging to the very manner she said this, as if she was just reminded of something she missed having very much.
Part of Reese wanted to question it but the arrival of their waitress stopped her and with a smile and a few words of French she placed their order of Moules a la Mariniere before turning her attention back to Bianca who had an impish sort of expression on her face and as she studied it, Reese was baffled, both by what caused it and how this woman could continue to be so charming. "What?" she asked.
"You can speak French," Bianca drew the words out teasingly. "I was beginning to wonder."
"I'll have you know, I've lived here on and off since I was twenty," Reese responded in humorous offense. "I just have moments when the language escapes me. As much as I love this country, sometimes the way things are worded, it doesn't compute entirely."
"Did you go to school here?" asked Bianca curiously.
"At l’Ecole National Superiere des Beaux Arts," said Reese with a nod and Bianca's brown eyes widened in recognition. A smile automatically formed on Reese's features as she thought of the school where she had some of the happiest times in her life. "I was in their architecture program and by the time I graduated I just couldn't seem to make myself leave the country. Even if I didn't always have the best time speaking the language," Reese added drolly, causing Bianca to give a delightful laugh. "How about you?"
"I'm trying to finish my MIB," said Bianca in a morose sort of confession and Reese gave her a sympathetic look.
"It's hard, isn't it? With work and Miranda?" asked Reese softly.
"I have so much help, there's Nathan and Adele, that's Miranda's full time nanny, even Madame Trotter who comes in and cooks for us three or four times a week," Bianca began in something of a rush, almost like she felt compelled to let Reese know she was aware of how much better off she was than other people. "But it's still hard at times. I have to do it though," Bianca said this quietly and there was a look of determination on her features, very similar to the one Reese had seen before getting hit with a soccer ball but this time it was more restrained, as if it came from a very deep place internally. "I need to know more, to make sure everything stays right for her."
"Aren't there others? At the company, I mean," said Reese in a gentle questioning. "People who could help."
"Hundreds," said Bianca and once again her warm expression and laugh was back, making Reese feel proud to help cause it and happy it had returned. "Roland, our CVO, helps me so much and so does Miranda's uncle but I don't think it's really fair to them if I'm not trying to learn it all myself. Hence the whole sad attempt to finish off my last semester of school during our busiest quarter."
"Whose program are you in?" asked Reese with sincere interest.
"Institut Européen de Management International's," said Bianca, smiling and taking a drink of her water. She had just placed the glass back down and appeared as if she was going to say something more when a loud chime filled the air. Giving Reese an apologetic look she opened her purse and said, "I’m sorry. Do you mind if I check this?"
"Go ahead," said Reese, waving her hand, smiling at Bianca's use of cell phone etiquette.
"I love this phone but it demands my attention way too often," said Bianca wryly, removing a BlackBerry from her purse and peering at the screen before giving a snort of laughter. Looking up at a curious Reese, she flipped the phone around so the blonde could read the text message filling its screen. "My sister is apparently having difficulties with her coworkers."
Lifting an eyebrow, Reese leaned forward to peer at the screen, mimicking Bianca's snort of laughter as she read: Binks! I srsly h8 thse women sumtz. if I wuz a big a witch as thy say Id suck thr life force to incrse my pwers.
"Binks?" Reese read aloud, a slow smile tugging at her lips and a laugh escaping when Bianca blushed.
"My sister, Kendall's, nickname for me," said Bianca, looking down at the BlackBerry and typing in a quick reply. "Don't ask me where she came up with it but it seems to have stuck. She even has a few other people in our home town saying it." When she finished typing Bianca placed the phone on the table and remarked, "We've gotten addicted to text messaging each other ever since I came back to France a month ago. She's much faster at it than I am though. Mostly because she ignores the rules of grammar and spelling."
"And you don't," supplied Reese knowingly, a playful twinkle in her eyes.
"It's not proper English," Bianca explained in an almost huffy defense and Reese laughed, getting the feeling that this was a familiar argument the brunette had with her text messaging sibling. "I think it's better for something to be done correctly than quickly."
"I see," Reese murmured, an equally playful smile curving her lips to match the twinkle that remained in her brown eyes. A twinkle that transformed into a challenging gleam as she dug through her purse and produced a BlackBerry of her own. "But the question is, can you do it correctly and quickly? By the way," she added before Bianca could reply, her voice husky and teasing as she reached out to tap Bianca's BlackBerry with the tip of her index finger, "the 8700c is a much older model than mine."
"I haven't even had it a year!" exclaimed Bianca. A peevish look formed on her features and she said, "When did you get yours?"
"Last month. I got it right off the shelf the day it came out," said Reese in a bragging sort of tone that only someone truly in love with having the latest technology could have. "I replaced my 8707g, which is a newer model of what you have, with this 8800."
"You're a chronic phone upgrader," Bianca declared, pointing her finger at the blonde. "That's what you are. And I happen to prefer things that are older and worn in." Recalling the original comment that had started this conversation, she went on, "Just because I have an older model doesn't mean I can't type quicker AND more correct than you. In fact, I know I can."
"Want to test that theory?" questioned Reese, the gleam returning to her gaze.
"How," Bianca said this more than asked it and her dark eyes narrowed in slight humorous suspicion.
"How else? We'll have a text messaging race," said Reese who presented her BlackBerry to Bianca as she lifted a fine blonde eyebrow, clearly issuing a dare though there was a lighthearted playfulness behind it. "Open up an sms window with your number in my BlackBerry and I'll do the same for yours with my number then on three we'll text."
"I'm so winning this," muttered Bianca, taking the BlackBerry from Reese and swiftly punching in her number.
"We'll see," Reese sing songed as she followed suit with Bianca's phone before handing it over to the brunette. "Now what should we text to each other?" She tilted her head and wore a thoughtful expression. "I know," Reese drawled and Bianca wore a skeptical look at the immensely pleased light shining in her eyes. "How about: Binks is a great nickname. Properly capitalizing the word Binks and using a period at the end of nickname, of course. Anything else wouldn't obey the rules of grammar."
"Hardy har," said Bianca sardonically, giving Reese her phone back and readying her thumbs at the Qwerty keyboard of her own. "On the count of three," she said and Reese grinned on seeing that determined look make another appearance. "One, two, three!"
A second, then two, and then the simultaneous sound of chimes rang out as Bianca and Reese stared at their text messages. With something of a pout, Bianca realized that Reese hadn't made any spelling or grammatical errors and from what she could tell they both received their texts at the exact same time. Lifting her head, she looked at Reese questioningly.
"Your spelling and grammar is impeccable," Reese complimented with a smile. "How was mine?"
"Perfect," said Bianca and her pout was echoed in her voice, causing the blonde to laugh. After a moment, Bianca laughed along, shaking her head a bit and wearing an expression of shy embarrassment. "I wanted to win," she confessed.
"We tied though and tying is like winning except everyone wins," said Reese, consoling and cheerful. "And besides," she drawled slowly, her voice languid and rich as she leaned back in her chair and held up her BlackBerry. "Now I have your number as a trophy."
Silence as Bianca stared at her blankly then a look of outrage formed on her features and for a moment Reese wondered if she should've just kept her ulterior motive for having the race quiet despite her nagging conscious. Then Bianca pointed a finger at her, wagging it at the blonde as if she were a naughty puppy who peed on the rug. "You tricked me!" she accused.
"So I did," Reese laughed, grabbing the finger that was pointed at her and gently swinging it back and forth in a fond gesture. "But I also admitted it. That must rescind most of the wrongdoing involved, right?"
Bianca's reply was silenced by the waitress returning with their food which was indeed a very large portion of mussels beautifully displayed in a bulky pot that was placed on their table with a resounding clunk. The scent of butter and a hint of white wine wafted in the air and Bianca gave Reese a pointed look, gesturing to the pot as she said, "You help me finish this then the wrongdoing is rescinded."
Feeling enormously lucky, a notion quite familiar since meeting the other woman, Reese grinned and replied, "Deal."
---
Time was such a fluid concept and Reese wasn't positive she really appreciated it. One moment could drag on endlessly, torturous in its existence, and though you wanted it to be over, for it to simply stop, it dragged on and on. Another could be over in a blink of the eye, its perfect happiness absolute and intangible, slipping through your fingers like grains of sand as you protested futilely.
When they finished eating and left the café Reese was absorbed by thoughts of how to keep her time with Bianca from ending, her brain working a mile a minute, spinning into overdrive as with each step they got closer to the exit of the park. She narrowed her eyes, a habit when lost in contemplation, and was rewarded with a twinge of pain in her right eye and with it, Reese knew how to extend her time with Bianca, if only for a few more minutes. Though it would put her in contact with some dubious, if not highly annoying, people.
"I need to return your penguin," Reese said, hoping she didn't sound as idiotic as she suddenly felt. When Bianca looked at her with a baffled expression, she chuckled and said, "The icepack you gave me? It's shaped like a penguin. Very cute, by the way."
"Thanks," said Bianca wryly, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear. "Miranda picked it out during her March Of The Penguins phase."
"I fell asleep during that movie," admitted Reese and when Bianca laughed at this, she wore a put upon expression. "It's not like there was a lot to see! They just kept walking. Hardly the most exciting plotline. If I have to watch animals I'd rather wait for Shark Week."
"Given Miranda's confirmed fear of sea monsters I don't think that's an option for me anytime soon," Bianca chuckled. She ducked her head to look through her purse and Reese observed her checking the time on her BlackBerry. When she glanced up she wore a sad look on her face as she murmured, "I really should get back to the office. It's already a little past one o'clock. Don't worry about the icepack, we can always get another. Maybe Miranda will pick out the polar bear one next time. As far as I know, they don't march."
"My office isn't far at all. It's right on Avenue Secretan," said Reese quickly, hoping her need to spend more time with Bianca wasn't as transparent as she felt at the moment. Honestly, it was the most perplexing and frustrating thing she had experienced. This sudden and inexplicable pull to be with Bianca, to know more about her, to somehow, some way, place herself further in her life. Reese hadn't ever felt anything similar to it before and it frightened her as much as it excited her. "Please? It'll only take a minute."
"A minute," repeated Bianca and Reese felt her heart tighten at the way that Bianca said this, it was understated and cynical in a manner she hadn't thought possible from the sweet natured brunette. Then a smile pulled at full lips and dark eyes were bright and shining as she held up a finger as she said in teasing tones, "Exactly one minute. You can promise me that?"
"Well, I don't know about that," Reese pronounced, wearing a smile but there was a small crack in her voice. Trying to shake off that horrible claustrophobic feeling from a few seconds ago, hooking her arm through Bianca's much like she had observed the other woman doing with Nathan yesterday.
She kept her gaze focused ahead, on their pathway out of the park, afraid if she looked at her companion she might see what she was sure was a look of surprise transform into discomfort. And Reese wasn't sure she could take seeing that. Not when everything involving Bianca felt so very natural and right to her. As if it was all written out in some otherworldly script and she was playing her part but unlike the role her mother had always tried to force her into this one wasn't stifling and she didn't have any fears that she was doing anything wrong. There were no worries over saying the wrong thing, doing the wrong thing, there was just an overwhelming sense that this part was created especially for her and the fear only came when she began to truly doubt her place in it all. She was so engrossed in her thoughts, in her contemplation over this strange and unexpected connection to Bianca, she was entirely surprised to find herself a step away from the entrance to her office building.
"Here we are," Reese drawled, giving Bianca what she hoped was a reassuring smile as she pushed open the glass doors for the brunette. "Oh," she said suddenly, her hand resting on the small of Bianca's back as they made their way inside, leaning forward to say, "Let me apologize for my staff ahead of time."
"Why?" asked Bianca, her laugh good humored and affectionate.
"You'll see," said Reese in the humorous tones of a doomed woman. "In the end, everyone always sees."
"Mme. Williams," Danielle greeted, sounding a little more excited than usual, her green eyes wide and curious as she observed her employer with Bianca. "How was your time in the park? One would hope it was productive, yes?"
"It was very productive," Reese chuckled, absently waving at Danielle as they headed to the elevator. The minute the doors shut, she looked to Bianca and quirked an eyebrow. "She's already on the phone telling my assistant and lord knows who else I'm heading up to my office with you. They'll be an army of spies hiding around every corner when we get there, wait and see."
"You're serious," remarked Bianca in disbelief, laughter evident in her voice.
"I wish I was joking," said Reese with weighty gravitas, turning to look at Bianca with utter seriousness. "They're terrible snoops."
"All you're doing is going to your office with another person. Surely that's not a major event?" said Bianca who paused to give Reese a sardonic once over. "You're not secretly anti-social, are you?"
"I don't know," Reese murmured, wearing an exaggerated look of contemplation. "I DO hate people…"
"Gee, thanks," said Bianca dryly.
The elevator doors opened silent and swift before Reese could explain that people, in her own odd little definition of the word, didn't include Bianca and Miranda in its rather vague description. They stepped into the foyer of the top floor and Reese's chocolate brown eyes caught sight of the distinctive multicolored wardrobe of Audrey's assistant Claude and she released a heavy sigh. For a successful architecture firm her staff really had entirely too much time on their hands.
Taking Bianca's hand firmly in her own, Reese began a purposeful march towards her office, wearing a look of determination altogether similar to the one she had seen the brunette wear on several occasions. "Come on," she said. "Lets get out of the line of fire."
As they walked down the hallway, Reese glanced at Bianca and she saw the brunette's lips were tugged up in a wry smile, her doe eyes observing the peeking hints of the heads of Reese's employees, a tangible amusement rising to the surface of her expression. Noticing Reese's attention focused on her, she lifted an eyebrow and sai, "You have very strange coworkers."
"I know," Reese muttered, opening the door to her office and holding it for Bianca. "I hired most of them."
Once they were safely inside her office, Reese let go of Bianca's hand, reluctant to do so but realizing she no longer had much excuse to keep on holding it. Making her way over to her desk she tried to control the butterflies in her stomach upon realizing that the brunette was probably giving her office a not so subtle inspection. Reese wondered what Bianca would think of it. Her office, far more than her house, was a reflection of her personality. The space was warm with muted colors and a wonderful view of the city, allowing one to look far off into the distance and dream, its furniture unassuming but stylish and surprisingly comfortable. She had spent weeks making sure every little thing in it was perfectly suited to her tastes and now she wondered if that was a bad thing. What if Bianca didn't like it? And so Reese told herself not to look up, keeping her head down as she looked through her drawer for the icepack.
"It's kind of sad," Bianca's voice echoed in the air, sweet and clinging, automatically drawing Reese's attention upwards, and she was frozen by the kindness in those dark eyes and the genuine warmth of her smile. "I covet your office. Even with the strange coworkers."
"Thank you," said Reese softly, standing at her full height, icepack in hand but suddenly forgotten. It was one of those instances with time, Reese recognized. Where it seemed so much longer than it actually was but it was so nice. This still and comforting air they had between them, wearing quiet satisfied smiles on their features that were matching.
A perfect moment that couldn't last.
"Sketches!" Maurice declared in grand and self important tones, the joined door to his office and Reese's flying open as he made his entrance. "I demand sketches to scan and import and create into a brilliant project presentation for Sig. Passeri!" Once he was in the center of the office, he paused in his ranting walk, giving his attention to Bianca. Immediately, electric blue eyes narrowed and he had the look Reese often feared the most from her assistant. The kind a hungry dog got when presented with a bone. "You," he said the word breathless and somewhat awestricken, "are Bianca Montgomery."
"Yes," said Bianca slow and almost tentative, as if she was starting to doubt this fact.
"Your mother, she is Erica Kane," Maurice continued and Reese released an internal sigh, wondering why she had to choose a celebrity obsessed gay man for her assistant and confused why she hadn't realized exactly who Bianca's mother was when she first met her. She knew who Erica Kane was, she was sure every American did, the woman was part of their culture and unfortunately for Bianca, so was her family. Perhaps she hadn't realized because in all honesty Reese could care less. She was far more interested in Bianca than whoever her mother happened to be. Bianca gave a hesitant nod to Maurice's statement about her mother and he beamed, wide and happy, clapping his hands as he exclaimed, "She is fabulous! The last of the tiny models, the ones they have now, they are all gargantuan creatures, bumbling clods when compared to your mother. You will tell her this for me?"
"I will," said Bianca, giving a nod, a relieved and fond smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.
"Wonderful," said Maurice sincerely. Then he fixed his attention back on Reese, hand shooting out as he demanded, "Sketches."
"Here, here!" Reese groaned in exasperation, handing him her sketch book, making a shooing gesture with her hands. "Now would you go already? And tell the rest of them to break it up outside my office, would you? This isn't a rock concert."
"Of course," Maurice sniffed, taking the sketch book in hand and heading back to his office. "The music here, it is so dull." He disappeared into his office only to reappear a second later, poking his head from behind the door as he said carelessly, "Simon has called four times in your absence. I referred him to your cell phone but he claims he cannot connect to the number. I told him I had doubts as to his ability to properly dial numbers. Perhaps you should help him with that?"
"Out!" Reese cried as she pointed at the door in an unspoken order to close it but it was too late as Maurice had already shut it the moment he delivered his message. Giving a wary sigh, Reese rubbed her forehead, peering at Bianca through her fingers and a small smile twisting her lips as she murmured, "Remember when I apologized ahead of time? He's most of the reason why."
"He seems like he means well," commented Bianca, stepping close to Reese and reaching up to draw her hand down, replacing it with her own, her fingers gently massaging the blonde's forehead, instantly causing the beginnings of a headache to cease. "There," Bianca murmured, soft and satisfied, "does that feel better?"
"Much," replied Reese in a bare whisper, lost in Bianca's gaze, captured by the warmth and comfort she found there, wishing that somehow, some way, one day she could have it for her own. Startled by this thought, these feelings that were becoming harder and harder to control, Reese dropped her gaze to the icepack she still held in her hand. "Here," she said, pressing it gently into Bianca's free hand. "You don't want to be late for your hurricane of meetings, right?"
"Typhoon," corrected Bianca with a smile, taking the icepack in hand and stepping away from Reese, her hand falling away from the blonde in an elegant and utterly natural movement, tenderly cupping her face as it lowered and she moved backwards.
"My mistake," Reese said and there was more, she knew there was, she wanted to say something more, something else to make Bianca smile and laugh and want to see her again. Only the words, they were missing, vanished from her mind, and instead Reese offered an affectionate smile, subtle in its longing as Bianca made her way out the door with a quiet goodbye, her own echoing in response. Time was fluid again, slipping away from her, and she had no idea how long she stood in place, staring at the door that Bianca had just exited through before she made her way back to her desk and sank into her expensive ergonomic chair. Her gaze falling to the small pile of messages Maurice had composed in her absence, the ones from Simon sitting at the very top. Tracing the letters of his name with her eyes, Reese squeezed them shut, her heart in her throat, and a sense of misery and helplessness filling her. Wondering how it was possible that Bianca and these feelings, these uncontrollable, avalanche of feelings, that she caused had managed to make Reese completely forget about the man she was engaged to marry. Weariness engulfing her, Reese sunk down onto the desk, her head buried in her arms, and tears pricking at her eyes as she muttered, "What I am supposed to do?"
But no one could answer her question. Not even herself.
To be continued...
SERIES: All My Children
AUTHOR:
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
EMAIL: dreiser7@yahoo.com
YAHOO ID: dreiser7
MY WEBSITE: http://www.dreiser.org/
CONTENT: F/F romance. Bianca/Reese. Breeze.
SUMMARY: Reese Williams had experienced a thousand glimpses of the life she always wanted but until she met Bianca Montgomery she never thought she could have it for herself.
DISCLAIMER: I own nothing but my love of cold weather.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: SPOILER WARNING! This chapter contains spoilers for Reese's romantic history. If you have a dislike of spoilers then it's best not to read this chapter or perhaps the rest of the fic as I will rely heavily on them for her background.
A Thousand Glimpses
By: Dreiser
Three
There was a fine art to the ability of effectively pretending you were paying attention to one thing when in reality your interest was completely focused on something else altogether. Reese thought she was doing a superb job at this as she kept her gaze locked onto the café menu, which had a definite seafood theme, all while covertly studying Bianca's delicate features.
Only when she lifted her gaze for perhaps the twelfth time, Reese had the feeling she had failed when she was met with Bianca's effervescent smile that had the a tinge of self deprecating humor twisting at the edges. "I want the mussels," she said.
"All right," said Reese a bit dimly, perplexed by the almost lamenting way Bianca said this, as if she couldn't have them despite the fact the blonde was now staring at an extremely verbose description of their deliciousness on the menu.
"The portions are huge here," Bianca continued and a knowing grin formed on Reese's features as she watched dark eyes become large and hopeful. "Do you like mussels? If you do we can share. Or I can order them for myself and take the leftovers home and try to convince Miranda once again that they're not the slimy tongues of sea monsters."
"I like mussels," Reese chuckled. "But I think Miranda is onto something. They do sort of look like tongues, don't they?"
"Please don't ever tell her you agree with her or I'll never hear the end of it," said Bianca, giving a small groan. She paused and that wide hopeful look was back and she asked, "So you'll share some with me? To prevent me from eating them all myself and getting fat rather than taking them home to scare my daughter with seafood she honestly believes comes from a monster's mouth?"
"Yes, I'll share some mussels with you," agreed Reese in a playful drawl. "I like sharing. Sesame Street taught me the concept."
"Bert and Ernie," said Bianca wisely, clearly having seen just such an episode herself.
"I know it wasn't Elmo," said Reese with a laugh.
"Elmo is overrated," Bianca remarked and a fond smile curved on her lips. "Miranda likes to watch the original Muppet Show with her aunt. Who, for whatever reason, is trying to convince her Miss Piggy is a valid role model."
"She does dress well," said Reese in an attempt to give some measure of defense to the aunt's stance. "And she's assertive, I'd think it's a good thing for little girls to learn how to speak their minds. Maybe in a more polite manner than Miss Piggy but still…"
"You're a peacekeeper, I can already tell," said Bianca warmly. "Everyone has a valid point of view, am I right?"
A blush heating her cheeks, Reese ducked her head and murmured, "It's the truth, isn't it? Whether or not you agree with someone they always deserve the chance to be heard. At least, that's what my father told me."
"Your father is a smart man," said Bianca and though her tone was as genuine and kind as ever there was a sadness there too, clinging to the very manner she said this, as if she was just reminded of something she missed having very much.
Part of Reese wanted to question it but the arrival of their waitress stopped her and with a smile and a few words of French she placed their order of Moules a la Mariniere before turning her attention back to Bianca who had an impish sort of expression on her face and as she studied it, Reese was baffled, both by what caused it and how this woman could continue to be so charming. "What?" she asked.
"You can speak French," Bianca drew the words out teasingly. "I was beginning to wonder."
"I'll have you know, I've lived here on and off since I was twenty," Reese responded in humorous offense. "I just have moments when the language escapes me. As much as I love this country, sometimes the way things are worded, it doesn't compute entirely."
"Did you go to school here?" asked Bianca curiously.
"At l’Ecole National Superiere des Beaux Arts," said Reese with a nod and Bianca's brown eyes widened in recognition. A smile automatically formed on Reese's features as she thought of the school where she had some of the happiest times in her life. "I was in their architecture program and by the time I graduated I just couldn't seem to make myself leave the country. Even if I didn't always have the best time speaking the language," Reese added drolly, causing Bianca to give a delightful laugh. "How about you?"
"I'm trying to finish my MIB," said Bianca in a morose sort of confession and Reese gave her a sympathetic look.
"It's hard, isn't it? With work and Miranda?" asked Reese softly.
"I have so much help, there's Nathan and Adele, that's Miranda's full time nanny, even Madame Trotter who comes in and cooks for us three or four times a week," Bianca began in something of a rush, almost like she felt compelled to let Reese know she was aware of how much better off she was than other people. "But it's still hard at times. I have to do it though," Bianca said this quietly and there was a look of determination on her features, very similar to the one Reese had seen before getting hit with a soccer ball but this time it was more restrained, as if it came from a very deep place internally. "I need to know more, to make sure everything stays right for her."
"Aren't there others? At the company, I mean," said Reese in a gentle questioning. "People who could help."
"Hundreds," said Bianca and once again her warm expression and laugh was back, making Reese feel proud to help cause it and happy it had returned. "Roland, our CVO, helps me so much and so does Miranda's uncle but I don't think it's really fair to them if I'm not trying to learn it all myself. Hence the whole sad attempt to finish off my last semester of school during our busiest quarter."
"Whose program are you in?" asked Reese with sincere interest.
"Institut Européen de Management International's," said Bianca, smiling and taking a drink of her water. She had just placed the glass back down and appeared as if she was going to say something more when a loud chime filled the air. Giving Reese an apologetic look she opened her purse and said, "I’m sorry. Do you mind if I check this?"
"Go ahead," said Reese, waving her hand, smiling at Bianca's use of cell phone etiquette.
"I love this phone but it demands my attention way too often," said Bianca wryly, removing a BlackBerry from her purse and peering at the screen before giving a snort of laughter. Looking up at a curious Reese, she flipped the phone around so the blonde could read the text message filling its screen. "My sister is apparently having difficulties with her coworkers."
Lifting an eyebrow, Reese leaned forward to peer at the screen, mimicking Bianca's snort of laughter as she read: Binks! I srsly h8 thse women sumtz. if I wuz a big a witch as thy say Id suck thr life force to incrse my pwers.
"Binks?" Reese read aloud, a slow smile tugging at her lips and a laugh escaping when Bianca blushed.
"My sister, Kendall's, nickname for me," said Bianca, looking down at the BlackBerry and typing in a quick reply. "Don't ask me where she came up with it but it seems to have stuck. She even has a few other people in our home town saying it." When she finished typing Bianca placed the phone on the table and remarked, "We've gotten addicted to text messaging each other ever since I came back to France a month ago. She's much faster at it than I am though. Mostly because she ignores the rules of grammar and spelling."
"And you don't," supplied Reese knowingly, a playful twinkle in her eyes.
"It's not proper English," Bianca explained in an almost huffy defense and Reese laughed, getting the feeling that this was a familiar argument the brunette had with her text messaging sibling. "I think it's better for something to be done correctly than quickly."
"I see," Reese murmured, an equally playful smile curving her lips to match the twinkle that remained in her brown eyes. A twinkle that transformed into a challenging gleam as she dug through her purse and produced a BlackBerry of her own. "But the question is, can you do it correctly and quickly? By the way," she added before Bianca could reply, her voice husky and teasing as she reached out to tap Bianca's BlackBerry with the tip of her index finger, "the 8700c is a much older model than mine."
"I haven't even had it a year!" exclaimed Bianca. A peevish look formed on her features and she said, "When did you get yours?"
"Last month. I got it right off the shelf the day it came out," said Reese in a bragging sort of tone that only someone truly in love with having the latest technology could have. "I replaced my 8707g, which is a newer model of what you have, with this 8800."
"You're a chronic phone upgrader," Bianca declared, pointing her finger at the blonde. "That's what you are. And I happen to prefer things that are older and worn in." Recalling the original comment that had started this conversation, she went on, "Just because I have an older model doesn't mean I can't type quicker AND more correct than you. In fact, I know I can."
"Want to test that theory?" questioned Reese, the gleam returning to her gaze.
"How," Bianca said this more than asked it and her dark eyes narrowed in slight humorous suspicion.
"How else? We'll have a text messaging race," said Reese who presented her BlackBerry to Bianca as she lifted a fine blonde eyebrow, clearly issuing a dare though there was a lighthearted playfulness behind it. "Open up an sms window with your number in my BlackBerry and I'll do the same for yours with my number then on three we'll text."
"I'm so winning this," muttered Bianca, taking the BlackBerry from Reese and swiftly punching in her number.
"We'll see," Reese sing songed as she followed suit with Bianca's phone before handing it over to the brunette. "Now what should we text to each other?" She tilted her head and wore a thoughtful expression. "I know," Reese drawled and Bianca wore a skeptical look at the immensely pleased light shining in her eyes. "How about: Binks is a great nickname. Properly capitalizing the word Binks and using a period at the end of nickname, of course. Anything else wouldn't obey the rules of grammar."
"Hardy har," said Bianca sardonically, giving Reese her phone back and readying her thumbs at the Qwerty keyboard of her own. "On the count of three," she said and Reese grinned on seeing that determined look make another appearance. "One, two, three!"
A second, then two, and then the simultaneous sound of chimes rang out as Bianca and Reese stared at their text messages. With something of a pout, Bianca realized that Reese hadn't made any spelling or grammatical errors and from what she could tell they both received their texts at the exact same time. Lifting her head, she looked at Reese questioningly.
"Your spelling and grammar is impeccable," Reese complimented with a smile. "How was mine?"
"Perfect," said Bianca and her pout was echoed in her voice, causing the blonde to laugh. After a moment, Bianca laughed along, shaking her head a bit and wearing an expression of shy embarrassment. "I wanted to win," she confessed.
"We tied though and tying is like winning except everyone wins," said Reese, consoling and cheerful. "And besides," she drawled slowly, her voice languid and rich as she leaned back in her chair and held up her BlackBerry. "Now I have your number as a trophy."
Silence as Bianca stared at her blankly then a look of outrage formed on her features and for a moment Reese wondered if she should've just kept her ulterior motive for having the race quiet despite her nagging conscious. Then Bianca pointed a finger at her, wagging it at the blonde as if she were a naughty puppy who peed on the rug. "You tricked me!" she accused.
"So I did," Reese laughed, grabbing the finger that was pointed at her and gently swinging it back and forth in a fond gesture. "But I also admitted it. That must rescind most of the wrongdoing involved, right?"
Bianca's reply was silenced by the waitress returning with their food which was indeed a very large portion of mussels beautifully displayed in a bulky pot that was placed on their table with a resounding clunk. The scent of butter and a hint of white wine wafted in the air and Bianca gave Reese a pointed look, gesturing to the pot as she said, "You help me finish this then the wrongdoing is rescinded."
Feeling enormously lucky, a notion quite familiar since meeting the other woman, Reese grinned and replied, "Deal."
---
Time was such a fluid concept and Reese wasn't positive she really appreciated it. One moment could drag on endlessly, torturous in its existence, and though you wanted it to be over, for it to simply stop, it dragged on and on. Another could be over in a blink of the eye, its perfect happiness absolute and intangible, slipping through your fingers like grains of sand as you protested futilely.
When they finished eating and left the café Reese was absorbed by thoughts of how to keep her time with Bianca from ending, her brain working a mile a minute, spinning into overdrive as with each step they got closer to the exit of the park. She narrowed her eyes, a habit when lost in contemplation, and was rewarded with a twinge of pain in her right eye and with it, Reese knew how to extend her time with Bianca, if only for a few more minutes. Though it would put her in contact with some dubious, if not highly annoying, people.
"I need to return your penguin," Reese said, hoping she didn't sound as idiotic as she suddenly felt. When Bianca looked at her with a baffled expression, she chuckled and said, "The icepack you gave me? It's shaped like a penguin. Very cute, by the way."
"Thanks," said Bianca wryly, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear. "Miranda picked it out during her March Of The Penguins phase."
"I fell asleep during that movie," admitted Reese and when Bianca laughed at this, she wore a put upon expression. "It's not like there was a lot to see! They just kept walking. Hardly the most exciting plotline. If I have to watch animals I'd rather wait for Shark Week."
"Given Miranda's confirmed fear of sea monsters I don't think that's an option for me anytime soon," Bianca chuckled. She ducked her head to look through her purse and Reese observed her checking the time on her BlackBerry. When she glanced up she wore a sad look on her face as she murmured, "I really should get back to the office. It's already a little past one o'clock. Don't worry about the icepack, we can always get another. Maybe Miranda will pick out the polar bear one next time. As far as I know, they don't march."
"My office isn't far at all. It's right on Avenue Secretan," said Reese quickly, hoping her need to spend more time with Bianca wasn't as transparent as she felt at the moment. Honestly, it was the most perplexing and frustrating thing she had experienced. This sudden and inexplicable pull to be with Bianca, to know more about her, to somehow, some way, place herself further in her life. Reese hadn't ever felt anything similar to it before and it frightened her as much as it excited her. "Please? It'll only take a minute."
"A minute," repeated Bianca and Reese felt her heart tighten at the way that Bianca said this, it was understated and cynical in a manner she hadn't thought possible from the sweet natured brunette. Then a smile pulled at full lips and dark eyes were bright and shining as she held up a finger as she said in teasing tones, "Exactly one minute. You can promise me that?"
"Well, I don't know about that," Reese pronounced, wearing a smile but there was a small crack in her voice. Trying to shake off that horrible claustrophobic feeling from a few seconds ago, hooking her arm through Bianca's much like she had observed the other woman doing with Nathan yesterday.
She kept her gaze focused ahead, on their pathway out of the park, afraid if she looked at her companion she might see what she was sure was a look of surprise transform into discomfort. And Reese wasn't sure she could take seeing that. Not when everything involving Bianca felt so very natural and right to her. As if it was all written out in some otherworldly script and she was playing her part but unlike the role her mother had always tried to force her into this one wasn't stifling and she didn't have any fears that she was doing anything wrong. There were no worries over saying the wrong thing, doing the wrong thing, there was just an overwhelming sense that this part was created especially for her and the fear only came when she began to truly doubt her place in it all. She was so engrossed in her thoughts, in her contemplation over this strange and unexpected connection to Bianca, she was entirely surprised to find herself a step away from the entrance to her office building.
"Here we are," Reese drawled, giving Bianca what she hoped was a reassuring smile as she pushed open the glass doors for the brunette. "Oh," she said suddenly, her hand resting on the small of Bianca's back as they made their way inside, leaning forward to say, "Let me apologize for my staff ahead of time."
"Why?" asked Bianca, her laugh good humored and affectionate.
"You'll see," said Reese in the humorous tones of a doomed woman. "In the end, everyone always sees."
"Mme. Williams," Danielle greeted, sounding a little more excited than usual, her green eyes wide and curious as she observed her employer with Bianca. "How was your time in the park? One would hope it was productive, yes?"
"It was very productive," Reese chuckled, absently waving at Danielle as they headed to the elevator. The minute the doors shut, she looked to Bianca and quirked an eyebrow. "She's already on the phone telling my assistant and lord knows who else I'm heading up to my office with you. They'll be an army of spies hiding around every corner when we get there, wait and see."
"You're serious," remarked Bianca in disbelief, laughter evident in her voice.
"I wish I was joking," said Reese with weighty gravitas, turning to look at Bianca with utter seriousness. "They're terrible snoops."
"All you're doing is going to your office with another person. Surely that's not a major event?" said Bianca who paused to give Reese a sardonic once over. "You're not secretly anti-social, are you?"
"I don't know," Reese murmured, wearing an exaggerated look of contemplation. "I DO hate people…"
"Gee, thanks," said Bianca dryly.
The elevator doors opened silent and swift before Reese could explain that people, in her own odd little definition of the word, didn't include Bianca and Miranda in its rather vague description. They stepped into the foyer of the top floor and Reese's chocolate brown eyes caught sight of the distinctive multicolored wardrobe of Audrey's assistant Claude and she released a heavy sigh. For a successful architecture firm her staff really had entirely too much time on their hands.
Taking Bianca's hand firmly in her own, Reese began a purposeful march towards her office, wearing a look of determination altogether similar to the one she had seen the brunette wear on several occasions. "Come on," she said. "Lets get out of the line of fire."
As they walked down the hallway, Reese glanced at Bianca and she saw the brunette's lips were tugged up in a wry smile, her doe eyes observing the peeking hints of the heads of Reese's employees, a tangible amusement rising to the surface of her expression. Noticing Reese's attention focused on her, she lifted an eyebrow and sai, "You have very strange coworkers."
"I know," Reese muttered, opening the door to her office and holding it for Bianca. "I hired most of them."
Once they were safely inside her office, Reese let go of Bianca's hand, reluctant to do so but realizing she no longer had much excuse to keep on holding it. Making her way over to her desk she tried to control the butterflies in her stomach upon realizing that the brunette was probably giving her office a not so subtle inspection. Reese wondered what Bianca would think of it. Her office, far more than her house, was a reflection of her personality. The space was warm with muted colors and a wonderful view of the city, allowing one to look far off into the distance and dream, its furniture unassuming but stylish and surprisingly comfortable. She had spent weeks making sure every little thing in it was perfectly suited to her tastes and now she wondered if that was a bad thing. What if Bianca didn't like it? And so Reese told herself not to look up, keeping her head down as she looked through her drawer for the icepack.
"It's kind of sad," Bianca's voice echoed in the air, sweet and clinging, automatically drawing Reese's attention upwards, and she was frozen by the kindness in those dark eyes and the genuine warmth of her smile. "I covet your office. Even with the strange coworkers."
"Thank you," said Reese softly, standing at her full height, icepack in hand but suddenly forgotten. It was one of those instances with time, Reese recognized. Where it seemed so much longer than it actually was but it was so nice. This still and comforting air they had between them, wearing quiet satisfied smiles on their features that were matching.
A perfect moment that couldn't last.
"Sketches!" Maurice declared in grand and self important tones, the joined door to his office and Reese's flying open as he made his entrance. "I demand sketches to scan and import and create into a brilliant project presentation for Sig. Passeri!" Once he was in the center of the office, he paused in his ranting walk, giving his attention to Bianca. Immediately, electric blue eyes narrowed and he had the look Reese often feared the most from her assistant. The kind a hungry dog got when presented with a bone. "You," he said the word breathless and somewhat awestricken, "are Bianca Montgomery."
"Yes," said Bianca slow and almost tentative, as if she was starting to doubt this fact.
"Your mother, she is Erica Kane," Maurice continued and Reese released an internal sigh, wondering why she had to choose a celebrity obsessed gay man for her assistant and confused why she hadn't realized exactly who Bianca's mother was when she first met her. She knew who Erica Kane was, she was sure every American did, the woman was part of their culture and unfortunately for Bianca, so was her family. Perhaps she hadn't realized because in all honesty Reese could care less. She was far more interested in Bianca than whoever her mother happened to be. Bianca gave a hesitant nod to Maurice's statement about her mother and he beamed, wide and happy, clapping his hands as he exclaimed, "She is fabulous! The last of the tiny models, the ones they have now, they are all gargantuan creatures, bumbling clods when compared to your mother. You will tell her this for me?"
"I will," said Bianca, giving a nod, a relieved and fond smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.
"Wonderful," said Maurice sincerely. Then he fixed his attention back on Reese, hand shooting out as he demanded, "Sketches."
"Here, here!" Reese groaned in exasperation, handing him her sketch book, making a shooing gesture with her hands. "Now would you go already? And tell the rest of them to break it up outside my office, would you? This isn't a rock concert."
"Of course," Maurice sniffed, taking the sketch book in hand and heading back to his office. "The music here, it is so dull." He disappeared into his office only to reappear a second later, poking his head from behind the door as he said carelessly, "Simon has called four times in your absence. I referred him to your cell phone but he claims he cannot connect to the number. I told him I had doubts as to his ability to properly dial numbers. Perhaps you should help him with that?"
"Out!" Reese cried as she pointed at the door in an unspoken order to close it but it was too late as Maurice had already shut it the moment he delivered his message. Giving a wary sigh, Reese rubbed her forehead, peering at Bianca through her fingers and a small smile twisting her lips as she murmured, "Remember when I apologized ahead of time? He's most of the reason why."
"He seems like he means well," commented Bianca, stepping close to Reese and reaching up to draw her hand down, replacing it with her own, her fingers gently massaging the blonde's forehead, instantly causing the beginnings of a headache to cease. "There," Bianca murmured, soft and satisfied, "does that feel better?"
"Much," replied Reese in a bare whisper, lost in Bianca's gaze, captured by the warmth and comfort she found there, wishing that somehow, some way, one day she could have it for her own. Startled by this thought, these feelings that were becoming harder and harder to control, Reese dropped her gaze to the icepack she still held in her hand. "Here," she said, pressing it gently into Bianca's free hand. "You don't want to be late for your hurricane of meetings, right?"
"Typhoon," corrected Bianca with a smile, taking the icepack in hand and stepping away from Reese, her hand falling away from the blonde in an elegant and utterly natural movement, tenderly cupping her face as it lowered and she moved backwards.
"My mistake," Reese said and there was more, she knew there was, she wanted to say something more, something else to make Bianca smile and laugh and want to see her again. Only the words, they were missing, vanished from her mind, and instead Reese offered an affectionate smile, subtle in its longing as Bianca made her way out the door with a quiet goodbye, her own echoing in response. Time was fluid again, slipping away from her, and she had no idea how long she stood in place, staring at the door that Bianca had just exited through before she made her way back to her desk and sank into her expensive ergonomic chair. Her gaze falling to the small pile of messages Maurice had composed in her absence, the ones from Simon sitting at the very top. Tracing the letters of his name with her eyes, Reese squeezed them shut, her heart in her throat, and a sense of misery and helplessness filling her. Wondering how it was possible that Bianca and these feelings, these uncontrollable, avalanche of feelings, that she caused had managed to make Reese completely forget about the man she was engaged to marry. Weariness engulfing her, Reese sunk down onto the desk, her head buried in her arms, and tears pricking at her eyes as she muttered, "What I am supposed to do?"
But no one could answer her question. Not even herself.
To be continued...
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Lisel
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http://z10.invisionfree.com/Bianca_Reese
Thanks for reading my fic!
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I never thought about it quite like that, but you're right about it being sort of like Sarah 2.0. Heh. I'll have to go back and watch some clips, back from the good old days of AMC.
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I think it's the whole history of the controlling mother and then the spoilers that were released about the engagement that reminded me so much of Sarah. I was disappointed Reese wasn't just a boring lesbian but it does amuse me that as soon as she meets Bianca she breaks up with this guy. lol. Bianca's powers are mighty.
Here's a clip in the first of a bunch of great Bianca's scenes. It starts with her birth and then it keeps going up until 2000, I think. This person has tons of great classic AMC stuff online. Including most of the babyswitch drama.
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I just never made the connection between Reese and Sarah's storyline, but it does make sense. I'm glad Reese isn't just a boring lesbian, but it seems like there's more to it and they're giving her more to work with than they necessarily did with Bianca's past loves. So, I'm cautiously optimistic at this point on the overall storyline and what comes of it.
I love that video. I dug into my personal archives last night to find the old Sarah clips and watched them which was nice, too. I might go back and watch some other stuff as well today.
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Can't wait to read more!
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