Title: So Close

Pairing: Frankie/Bianca, Bianca/Reese, Bianca/Maggie (past), Maggie/Other
Rating: R
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters
Spoilers: All of Bianca's story/life. All they way up through her last appearance on AMC.
Summary: There is a crazed stalker after Bianca and her family. The FBI is doing their best to catch the killer and protect the small family. Oh...and Frankie's alive.

Note: This is the sequel to French Connection. It really helps if you have read this short story first. Feedback is always appreciated, and helps keep me motivated to update this story.

The room was dark as midnight, the only light coming from the square computer screen. The white glow illuminated the small desk it was perched on. It was empty, the wood only covered by the black laptop. No noise penetrated the still air. It was as if the room was in a vacuum, sealed off from the outside world. All that existed was the bright computer, a brilliant beacon floating within the oppressing and foreboding darkness.

A gloved hand reached out of the inky blackness, fingers resting gently on the keyboard. They slowly caressed the keys, gliding smoothly from one to the next. The leather of the black glove inhibited the typist from feeling the soft plastic. Finally, after a few seconds, the hand stopped. Taking up position on the keyboard, words began to appear on the screen as the fingers pressed down on the buttons.

"Hey baby." purred Reese as she watched her wife walk into the bedroom. She leaned back against the soft feather pillows, her eyes taking in every movement the brunette made.

"Hi. The kids are in bed. The Au-Pair said they were out half-way through the first story." Bianca walked further into the room after closing the door behind her. She moved over to her side of the bed and sat down on the edge. Lifting a pale hand, she clasped the thin gold chain around her neck and fiddled with the release. The rustling of sheets reached her ears as she felt the bed dip down behind her. Cold hands grazed the back of her neck as they slipped around the chain.

"You're hands are cold." said Bianca as deft fingers unclasped the necklace. The hands moved forward as arms came to rest on her shoulders, the gold chain dangling in front of her.

"Mmmm, maybe you should warm them up." Reese's husky voice blew in her ear, causing a shiver to run down her body.

She swallowed thickly as the arms wrapped around her, her eyes catching the shimmer of the jewelry as it fell to the floor. The cold hands sought purchase as equally cold lips attached themselves to the back of her neck. Sharp teeth nipped at the sensitive flesh, causing Bianca's eyes to close with a gasp.

The gloved hand moved fiercely over the keys, its partner joining in to help keep the flow. The pounding of small plastic buttons broke the eery silence of the room. The white blankness that had previously filled the screen was now covered with small black letters melding together to produce words and phrases.

The hands stilled momentarily. The fingers flexed, forming and un-forming fists. The tension in them decreased slightly, the urgency and speed of the typing pushing them past comfort.

A few seconds later the fingers resumed their fast-paced endeavor.

Bianca moaned as the shirt was ripped from her body, cold air meeting heated flesh.

She was on her knees in the middle of the bed, sheets and pillows scattered around her. Her thighs trembled as her wife's hands reached out from behind, skimming up her sides and around to roughly cup heaving breasts. Palms pushed in hard as fingers squeezed the firmness.

"You like this, don't you Bianca." Reese grunted into her ear, her body pressing closer against the panting woman before her. With another squeeze she sunk her teeth into unsuspecting flesh, bruising the skin of the delicate nape.

The printer sprung to life, blinking and beeping as the rigid white paper was sucked up into the machine. The banging of moving ink cartridges whirled about as the paper slowly escaped from the black opening, the once pure white now overcome by black sentences. A gloved hand reached out to snatch the paper from its confines. It held the paper up, allowing eyes to scan the finished product.

With a flick of the wrist, the author moved over to the wooden desk. A hand reached out to open the top drawer and carefully removed an envelope and stamp. The paper was laid flat against the hard surface and smoothed over. Any and all possible wrinkles were to be removed. Once the paper was sufficiently straight, the gloved hands stealthily folded, forming necessary creases in the white and black instrument. Then, it was shoved into the envelope.

The self-adhesive seal was pressed down and the envelope turned over. The address for Pine Valley, Pennsylvania stared back at the writer.

"Oh...I missed you so much." Reese panted as she trailed kisses up the flawless back.

Her hand landed on a quivering thigh and massaged the twitching muscle beneath. It teasingly moved upward, ghosting along searing skin. Bianca's breath hitched as the hand reached its destination, knuckles grazing over slick wetness.

"I love you. I'm going to make you feel so alive."

Bianca's eyes snapped open and her body froze.

Make you feel so alive.

Feel so alive.

So alive.

Alive.

"Frankie...you're alive!"

"Yeah. Pretty cool, huh?"

"Bianca, what are you doing?" Reese's voice caused the brunette to jump out of the memories.

Bianca blinked. Her hand had unconsciously gripped the other woman's, preventing her from doing anything.

"I-I don't know...can we just...can we just sleep? My head hurts." Bianca released her hold to run her hand across her brow. Without waiting for a reply, she crawled to her side of the bed and laid down. She curled up on her side and looked out the open window with unseeing eyes. Her wife's side touched her back as the woman joined her a few minutes later with a sigh.

Bianca shivered as a cold wind blew through the window.

The author reverently held the envelope in their gloved hands. They walked across the room, intent on delivering their message. One hand reached out to open the door, and a flash of light flooded the interior. For a brief moment, the inside of the room was revealed before the author closed the door behind them and walked off.

The newspaper covered walls were once again shrouded in darkness