Women's Murder Club : Sneak

TEASER: Maggie, the former love-of-her-life, the one who Bianca had wanted to marry, the one that had cheated on her and ruined everything, the one Bianca was still desperately in love with (and becoming increasingly bitter about it), was currently in an expensive suite with her daughter and her live-in lover, Bianca's ex of all people, having a perfectly cozy romantic evening. Merry F-king Christmas.

CHAPTERS

PROLOGUE & CHAPTER ONE

TWO | THREE | FOUR | FIVE

___________________________________

"Good Spirit,'' he pursued, as down upon the ground he fell before it: ``Your nature intercedes for me, and pities me. Assure me that I yet may change these shadows you have shown me, by an altered life!'' - Charles Dickens, A Christmas Carol

"I don't envy you," Greenlee began, as they followed the slim figure of Maggie and a trailing, plodding puppy down the hallway to the bedroom that was reserved for Miranda. "This is the harshest version of tough love I've ever seen."

Palm pressed against her cheek, Bianca took a moment to breathe in unsteadily. "What, being tortured by being forced to watch the people you love agonize over what an asshole you are isn't your idea of a good time?"

The Greenlee ghost arched a game eyebrow. "Mine, yes. I like to watch. But I can understand how going to your darkest moments and being forced to relive them could seem… harsh. It's very much a scared straight tactic."

"Is this your version of a peptalk?" Bianca returned dryly, steps slowing as Maggie hesitated at the closed door. "Because I'd rather concentrate on this."

"Good thing to focus on," Greenlee responded and then looked affronted when Bianca shushed her, narrowing her eyes in warning as Bianca turned her attention back to the scene playing out before her.

Maggie's movements were slow, as if she was struggling, and when the puppy whined at her feet, she reached down and picked it up. Fingers fisted together, she managed a knock.

"Go away," came the muffled voice, and Bianca's mouth twitched in a painful smile. She had been on Maggie's side of the door quite a bit in the past year.

Biting her lip, Maggie contemplated her next move. Motherhood, in this form, at least, was new to her. Maggie's last full-time experience with Miranda had been when Miranda was a precocious child, giggly and curious. Now officially a tween, the still remarkably pretty Miranda was less precocious and more rebellious.

A sudden moment of genuine regret of the time past floated through Bianca, at the missed years.

"Miranda, you can stay in there, but I've got a puppy that needs to be walked and cookies that need to be set out for Santa, and a big honkin' Christmas shoe that needs filling. It would be a damned shame if you missed out on all that just because you're mad at me."

There was a pregnant pause, and then the door opened just a crack. Little brown eyes peered out. "You cursed," Miranda told her matter-of-factly.

"I'm sorry," Maggie replied sincerely. When Miranda eyed her warily, she hoisted the puppy to her waist. "Can I come in?"

Miranda still wanted to believe in something, Bianca knew it. She believed in Santa even though half her friends made fun of her for it. She defended his realness fiercely, and even though Bianca knew that she should sit down with Miranda, tell her the truth about the fictional gift-giver, she found she didn't have the heart.

There was so much innocence torn from Miranda, she didn't want to strip it down any further.

The door opened slowly. Relieved, Maggie took a moment to collect herself before moving inside.

Without waiting for Greenlee's prompt, Bianca followed, slipping in as the door was closing, to watch the heartbreaking sight of Maggie trying desperately to connect with Bianca's daughter.

Miranda, in all her ten-year-old attitude driven glory, lay slumped on the bed, earphones in her ears, half heartedly going through the songs on her IPOD.

Sensing the delicate situation, Maggie approached with the puppy first, laying it gently on the bed and allowing Miranda to reach for her before settling down herself.

There was a moment of silence, before Maggie began unsteadily, "I think we should talk."

Miranda glared, and turned the scroll wheel, raising the volume to a level that Bianca was absolutely sure was going to burst her ear drums.

Thankfully, Maggie was one step ahead of her. "Hey," she said firmly, reaching forward and plucking the earbuds out of the little girl's ears. "Doctor Stone, remember? I'd rather not have to explain to your mother that you burst your eardrums under my care. She'll never forgive me."

Cowed, Maggie regrouped. "Okay," she began with a sigh. "Miranda, I'm going to be honest with you. You have every right to be mad at me, but I hope that you'll hear me out, okay?"

"I love you." The words were breathed out with so much sincerity, so much ache. "I do, honey. I've loved you ever since the day I found out about you." As if unable to stop herself, Maggie carefully reached forward, smoothed a bang off of Miranda's cheek tenderly. "I used to talk to you, when you were still in Bianca's stomach. I would dream about you. What you looked like. I thought you'd grow up to be just like a mini-Bianca. Beautiful and full of life."

"When we thought you were gone… that messed up a lot of people," Maggie began, voice rough. "Everyone loved you so much that when we thought we didn't have you anymore? It changed people. Your mom especially. She loves you so much, Miranda. You were… you are, the most precious thing in her life. And you were the most precious thing in mine."

Maggie's mouth pressed together, and Bianca could tell she was struggling. "I didn't mean to. I didn't want to. I did something that was really stupid. I shouldn't have done it. I made a mistake. A really big mistake and I really regret it. And your Mom… she didn't deserve it either. I was just scared, Miranda. Before I came to Paris with you and your Mom I was involved with a really bad man."

The statement forced a whisper of pain inside of Bianca, forced her to shut her eyes.

"He was a very bad man," Maggie managed. "See, we didn't know it at the time, but there was something wrong with him. In his head. And your mom saw it when I didn't. She got me away from him. But there was a lot inside of me that I didn't have the courage to deal with. Stuff that had gotten messed up that I didn't know how to fix. So I just shut it up inside of me and pretended like it wasn't there, and when it didn't go away… I didn't know how to deal with it. I loved you, baby. But I hurt your Mom, and I guess I hurt her so bad that… she was afraid I'd hurt you too."

"But you wouldn't, right?" Miranda sounded so desperate to believe. "You wouldn't hurt me like you hurt Mom."

Maggie's eyes sparkled with unshed tears. "No, honey. But there was no way your mom could have known that. I hurt her so bad she couldn't see anything but the hurt, and I can't blame her for that."

"But you're sorry." Miranda's palm buried into the doggie's fur, holding onto the struggling puppy like a stuffed animal. "You're sorry right?"

"I'm very sorry," Maggie managed thickly. "And I've never regretted anything the way I regret what happened."

"So if you're sorry and you'll never do it again, why can't you tell Mom that? Then we can all live together, and Mom won't be so lonely."

"Clever kid," Greenlee muttered. "I wish I were 10 again and saw things so simply, without all the messy complication of time and emotion."

Maggie was very still. "Miranda, I want to hear me, okay? No matter what happened between me and your Mom? Nothing changes how either of us feel about you. We don't all have to live together to make that happen. I think what your Mom did is pretty great, letting us spend more time together."

"Then you can spend it with Mom too," Miranda pleaded. "Just tell Mom you're sorry and you'll never do it again. Please, Maggie."

Caught between a rock and a hard place, Maggie responded in the only way she knew how. Reaching for her daughter, she drew her into her chest and held her close.

"Sometimes things can't be fixed with a sorry, Miranda," she whispered. "No matter how much you want them to be."

Arms crossed, Bianca didn't bother to hide her stinging eyes from the ghost who threw a wondering glance in her direction.

In their time together, both as friends and as lovers, Bianca had spent much time envisioning what kind of woman Maggie would be as an adult. She always pictured someone elegant, someone beautiful. Intrinsically, she known Maggie was flawed - while Bianca had had her own misfortune, Maggie's life had been no picnic. She had grown up in an extremely abusive home, with a rebel twin and an alcoholic mother. Stuck in the unhealthy role as the caretaker, Maggie had grown into a headstrong, impulsive insecure control freak, who Bianca met only after Frankie, Maggie's twin and Bianca's lover, had been murdered.

Then there was a confusing matter of sorting out what they meant to each other, Maggie being kidnapped by her aunt and nearly freezing to death, being nearly expelled after being wrongfully accused of cheating… and Jonathan…

Settled on the sofa, Bianca began to feel her exhaustion, head resting on her palm as Greenlee carefully worked on her nails with a file she found sitting on Lena's vanity.

The living room was silent, and Bianca was thankful for the respite as only Lena remained in the living room, standing by the bar and pouring two glasses of red wine, obviously some sort of nightly ritual.

"You know, when Maggie and I were together, I was always terrified she'd leave me," she began quietly, watching Lena kick off her heels and rub the back of her neck, face drawn with a phantom look of tiredness. "I didn't really voice it. I was afraid of talking too much about it. It seemed so easy to just slip into this perfect life - the life we envisioned for ourselves when I was first pregnant with Miranda. Before Lena and… Babe." She sighed heavily, licking her lips. "I started talking about a commitment ceremony two months after we started sleeping together. Wanted her to adopt Miranda… I remember seeing this look in her eyes…" Bianca drew in a breath. "But Cambias was tough, you know? And things kept happening at home. Kendall getting pregnant with Ryan's baby, and then falling into a coma… " Greenlee stopped filing, looked in her direction. "There was this girl. Cecilia. She lived in the same building as our penthouse. She met Maggie at the gym. I knew she was interested in Maggie. I could see it. It freaked me out. So I pushed for some sort of commitment ceremony and Maggie and I had a huge fight. She said she wasn't ready. That we had to take things slower and I was so afraid… I told her that I didn't have to take things slow, and that if by now after all we'd been through she wasn't sure I was what she wanted then maybe we shouldn't be together at all. I had a big meeting that night and when I came home…" Bianca winced, remembering the moment, the hurt. "I caught them. Cecilia was all over her, and I kicked Maggie out. I was so … She swore to me that it wasn't what it looked like, but I saw it. I couldn't handle it. I couldn’t handle seeing them together, so I made her leave." Silently she wiped the tears from her cheeks. "That night I chartered the plane for Pine Valley. I told her to figure out once and for all what she wanted, and I just grabbed Miranda and ran."

In front of her, Lena fussed with the place of cookies and milk that Miranda had placed dutifully in front of the fireplace for Santa.

"I always thought Maggie was the one person who would never hurt me. Who would never betray me. But I was so afraid of her leaving I did the leaving first. And when she finally came after me… I wanted so badly to hurt her. Just like she hurt me. This beautiful relationship that it felt like we had waited forever for had just been reduced to this… petty power play." Bianca glanced at the glass of wine that Lena was drinking, and ached desperately for the ability to pour a glass for herself. "And through it all, I still loved her. It made me feel foolish. Stupid. I had been made enough of a fool, I told myself. It was the last time."

The remark caused a boggle-eyed stare, and then suddenly Bianca laughed, shaking her head at the mysterious power of a well placed snap.

"I wonder how they found each other," she mused, once again staring at Maggie's partner, the exotic Lena Kundera. "What it was about each other that made this happen. How it happened."

"That's their story," Greenlee interceded, somewhat gentler than before. "Not yours."

Bianca's lips pursed, and wondered whether or not to argue that point. "Zach… I mean… the Zach-shaped ghost," she amended. "Told me they first slept together the night after Maggie … after Maggie came to my building and I refused to see her."

But Bianca's innate curiosity seemed to overwhelm her. Still, before she could press the matter with the surprisingly tight-lipped ghost, Maggie emerged from the hallway, offering Lena a grateful smile as she reached for the wine Lena handed out.

"Getting there," Maggie breathed, tilting the glass to her mouth. "She did however make me promise that we would extinguish the fire in the fireplace before we go to bed. Even though I told her Santa had made quite the technological achievements and didn't have to come through the chimney anymore, she insisted we take every precaution."

"Smart girl," Lena grinned, and obediently turned the knob on their gas fireplace, extinguishing the flame. "She seemed better, after you both came out."

"She's got a lot of questions," Maggie answered after a moment, grabbing the plate of cookies and dunking a treat into the milk. "And doesn't quite know how to understand them yet. Eat up, we've got to leave nothing but crumbs or Miranda will think Santa's been insulted."

Lena cracked the corner of a cookie off and popped it in her mouth, chewing thoughtfully. "Perhaps when Bianca gets back we can sit down with her."

Maggie hesitated, for the moment trading her wine glass for the glass of milk. "You don't think that's a little forward?"

"I just meant considering our special…" Maggie's mouth twitched, as if she was trying to find the correct description, "situation… I wouldn't want to push her away. Trusting us enough to keep Miranda for Christmas, that's huge."

Lena paused, and then grimaced slightly, head bobbing slightly. "Sooner or later you're going to have to stop feeling as if you have to apologize for everything to her, Maggie."

Maggie laughed grimly. "I just got my kid, back, Lena. I'd rather not rock the boat." Bianca blinked, suddenly uncomfortable at the sudden tension in the room. "And like it or not, we have to deal with the fact that at one point, we were both with her. That little girl in there - how can we expect her to understand that?"

Lena's fingertips slid over the stem of the wine glass. "You know that I love Miranda, Maggie. I may not have raised her or been able to have had the connection with her that you did, but when Bianca and I were together, I was prepared to raise her as my own."

"I know." Placing the half drunk glass on the tray in front of her, Maggie sat down at the foot of the tree, and reached for the overfilled boot with the name 'Miranda' etched on it with 'bling'-y jewels. "God this is so fucked up."

Just like Bianca, Lena watched her closely. "Why? I thought we had moved passed this."

Looking caught, Maggie looked up. "Lena, Miranda asked me why I couldn't just go to Bianca and say I was sorry and move back in with them."

It was the truth, but the honesty of the statement struck Bianca, forcing her to look with sudden concern to Lena, who responded by gulping another swallow of wine.

"And what did you tell her?" she asked, accent thicker than Bianca remembered it.

Lena's lips pursed, eyes lost in catching the movement of the red liquid as it swished around in her glass. "And if it were that easy, would you?"

"It's a fair question." Lena placed the wine glass on the dresser, and shot her a cool glance. "Maggie, I've known for you a long time. In many ways, you are still the young, confused girl with her heart dedicated to Bianca."

"It's been a long time, Lena. And you were with her too, remember? She had a commitment ring with your name on it."

The older woman drank the last of her wine, thrust her pockets into her slacks and regarded her young lover. "Is this a game?" she asked simply. "Where we compare lists of ways our devotion to Bianca out ranks our devotion to each other?"

"If I was anyone else, Maggie, if I occupied any other place in your life, Bianca would resent me, but she wouldn't hate me."

Standing still, Lena turned her head, glancing over Bianca to the bright lights of Paris. "Lately I've begun to wonder if the only reason you're with me is because in some way, through me, you find your connection to the lost love of your life."

Lena stared off into space. After a moment, she shook her head. "No," she managed, and then suddenly shuddered, shoulders straightening, smile mutely at her lover. "Forgive me, Maggie. It's been a long night and my doubts have overtaken my mind." With a conflicted swallow, she suddenly came forward, and knelt in front of Maggie, taking hold of her hand and pressing a kiss against the palm. "I'm grateful that Miranda is here, and if Bianca is willing, I would be very happy, if you could rebuild your friendship."

Maggie stared at her. "You know I wouldn't do that to you." Lena's features froze. "Even if she did tell me she forgave me, after all this time, I wouldn't just leave. We're in this together, Lena, and I'm not going to make the same mistake again. I'm not going to hurt you like-"

"Like you hurt her," Lena finished. Her hand squeezed Maggie's, and the other woman visibly swallowed, looking sincere, tired. Settling down beside Maggie, Lena wrapped a long arm around her waist, and glanced at the dimming fire. "It's ironic, isn't it?" she said after a moment. "After all this time, it still feels like she's here, in between us."

Sucking in an anxious breath, Bianca glanced quickly at Greenlee, who at the moment, looked just as shocked.

"She doesn't know we're here," the Greenlee ghost said quickly. "I'm sure of it." Still, she shifted uneasily, and without hesitation, continued, "But times up anyway!"

Before Bianca was prepared for it, Greenlee had snapped her fingers, and the image of Maggie and Lena by the fire dissolved, forcing an anguished, unexpected moan.

The outrage was cut short, however, when as she whirled, she discovered she didn't know where she was at all.

Utterly alone, there no was Greenlee ghost, but pitch dark. There was a chill in the air, and overtaken, Bianca blinked, disoriented. Hand over her chest, an effort to reign in her suddenly beating heart, Bianca found her pants revealed little whisps of frost floating from her mouth, visible condensation. She was in a cold, cold room, and a few steps forward revealed wood underneath her heels.

"Greenlee?" she began, tentatively moving forward. "Greenlee? Where are you? Where am I?"

There was no answer. She was still alone. Reaching blindly, Bianca tried to make her way forward, pausing suddenly when she heard the unmistakable sounds of heels, clicking on the hard wood. She stopped, and her breath gave her way, chest rising and falling in heaving pants, as she tried to keep her head.

A bright light snapped on, forcing a sudden headache and a wince as it illuminated only a few feet in every direction, revealing the rich grain of the wooden floor, and not much else.

Bianca waited, fingers curled into fists, frightened out of her mind, the steps growing deafeningly loud to her panicked ears.

Suddenly, the figure emerged from the darkness, and paused, steps away from her.

Silent, the figure shook her head, and as Bianca's eyes adjusted, she discovered the woman with long dark hair, streaked with elegant gray, a severe business suit and face that should have been wrinkled, but was instead stretched a little too obviously.

With a sharp gasp inward, Bianca suddenly realized, she was looking at an older version of herself.

Heart fluttering, Bianca straightened, started forward to come closer to the vision from the future. All at once she knew.

"You're the Ghost of Christmas Future," she breathed, and the smallest hint of a smile flickered on the old ghost's face, as it nodded slightly. Swallowing, Bianca gripped her sweaty palms together, and sucked in another breath. "You're going to show me my future?"

"No?" Bianca asked. "But you're supposed to. You're supposed to show me what I've become. What I will be!"

The smile just widened, and finally, finally, the figure spoke, in a gross mimic of Bianca's voice. "Would that be enough? To show you of a past that is yet to come. Of a present that speaks to you only in response to your own future. There is no such thing as a future. There is only a present. And a past."

"You have been shown a great many things tonight, Bianca Montgomery," the Ghost said, looking old and dignified and somehow contemptuous. "With such revelations, it is impossible to predict a future when you, yourself, are so unwritten. There are paths, but the destination is what you make it."

"WAIT!" Bianca found herself screaming, suddenly terrified. "You can't leave me here. You have to tell me what to do! Who I am!"

But the ghost had already dissolved into the darkness, and Bianca was once again, left alone.

It had been a far too eventful night, and it was too much. Her heart kept beating, beating so hard, so fast, she couldn't stop it.

The tears blurred her vision, and alone in the darkness, Bianca found herself focusing on that fiercely beating heart, threatening to burst out of her chest.

"God," she whispered, as suddenly the darkness around her burst into panels of images, scenes from her life, that whirled by, too fast for her to see, to listen, to absorb.

"Stop it!" she screamed, closed her eyes and clasped her hands over her ears, crumpling to the floor, and screaming.

Eyes shooting open, Bianca discovered a hard grip on her shoulders, face to face with her concerned butler, Hans.

She was back in her cabin, sprawled feebly over her long chair, papers and files scattered to the floor. Aside from her and Hans, the cabin was empty.

"Are you all right?" Hans breathed, looking wildly concerned. "You were screaming."

Bianca sucked in an anxious breath, convoluted thoughts desperate to find one rational thing to hold onto. "Excuse me?" she managed. "I was?"

"Yes, miss," he responded. Straightening, he pursed his lips. "I'll get you some water," he decided, and moved toward the bar.

Mind whirling, Bianca glanced around the cabin, eyes rising to the ceiling. "Hans," she breathed. "Hans, what time is it?"

He paused, looking utterly confused. "A little after midnight, Ma'am. Oh," He reached into his pocket and pulled out a tiny wrapped packet. "Happy Christmas," he said, with a happy grin. "You've always been very good to me, I thought for once I'd return the favor."

The implications of that, in the face of the face of all she encountered, left her dumbstruck.

"It's Christmas," she repeated, eyes jerking up to meet the kind old butler's. "Right, Hans?"

"Oh, thank GOD," she breathed, and suddenly overwhelmed with so much joy she couldn't contain it, she burst from her chair, nearly crying in relief as she fell into her butler's arms. "It's Christmas, Hans!"

She pressed a kiss to his cheek and received a flustered squeeze from the older man as a result, flushing bright pink from her attention. "Well, it's not much, Miss," he said, fiddling with his little gift, "Please don't get too excited-"

"Hans, I want you to talk to the captain, and I want you to tell him to turn around." He blinked, completely thrown.

"Do it, Hans." She turned and smiled. "You deserve to spend Christmas with your family."

"Hans, I know exactly where I need to be this Christmas," she interrupted, and with a gentle smile, nodded toward the door. "I need to make a call. Please tell the pilot to turn around. We're going back to Paris."

END CHAPTER THREE

___________________________________

CHAPTERS

PROLOGUE & CHAPTER ONE

TWO | THREE | FOUR | FIVE

________________________________