Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters, and I make no money from this work of fiction!
Nanny and Her Witch's Brew Missing Scene
"Just a minute, Nanny ..." the Professor called her back after she had placed the tray with his tea and bedtime snack on his desk and turned to go.
"I didn't want to interrupt you, Professor. I know you're worried about Sunday, and Mrs. Fowler..." Slowly she came back to stand in front of his desk, her hands clasped behind her, looking the picture of guilt.
"Hmm ..." he studied her for a moment, and realized she hadn't met his eyes since he had arrived home from the university that afternoon. "Nanny ..." he leaned back, his eyes never wavering, "tell me, did anything ... unusual happen today that I haven't heard about?"
"Well, the children were trying out their kite ..."
"Yes, so they were saying at supper time. They were astounded at the pull it had. Butch said it almost lifted him right off the ground."
"Yes." now her face was getting a little red.
The Professor eyed her thoughtfully. "And something happened which you told them perhaps they should keep from me?" he hazarded a guess.
Nanny winced. "Well, it wasn't QUITE like that, Professor ..."
"Oh?" he questioned. "Then what WAS it like?"
"Well, the wind was VERY strong, and it was all just a silly misunderstanding, really, and how was I to know it would happen, I ask you? I'm sure everything will work out in the end, it usually does, you know! You should drink your tea while it's hot, Professor!" and she hurriedly turned to go.
"Nanny!" he called her back sternly.
Reluctantly she paused, then retraced her steps to stand before him again, eyes downcast.
Now he stood up and came around to sit on the corner of his desk. "Please, Nanny, tell me exactly what Mrs. Fowler saw so that I won't have to guess at filling in the blanks. I still say she is lacing her gravy with something a lot more dangerous than flour!"
A faint smile crossed Nanny's face, and she looked fully at him. "Very well, Professor. It was all a simple case of jumping to the wrong conclusion, I'm afraid. You see, I ran to help Butch, and he let go of the string as I took hold of it. Next thing I knew, I was flying across the hedge and past the Fowler's window! Naturally she thought I was the very witch she had been suspecting me of being!"
"She was already suspecting you of being a witch?"
"Well, Francine has a great imagination, you know, and she fancied she saw my picture in her book on witchcraft. All very simple, really. Mrs. Fowler really isn't to blame ... much ..."
"So you WERE flying ... did you have a broom in your hand?"
"I'm afraid so," Nanny admitted. "I didn't have time to drop it, you see."
"Yes, I see." The image of Nanny flying through the air on a broomstick presented itself to his inner eye, and he pictured Mrs. Fowler's face at the sight. Guffaws of laughter burst from his throat. Unable to resist him, she found herself laughing too.
At last he took a deep breath and calmed himself down. Nanny smiled enchantingly at him. "Mrs. Fowler DOES tend to make a person see the funny side of life, doesn't she, Professor?"
"She sure does ..." he said, gazing at her. Since her long-time fiancé had appeared on the scene and the Professor had had to battle a jealousy he was still astonished to feel, he had come to realize more and more how attracted he was to Miss Phoebe Figalilly. She was so capable with the children, the home, and he, himself, so lovely to look at and endearing to listen to, and yet so unassuming in every way ...
"I believe it's time to check on the children," she said, her smile fading and her colour rising. She took only a step towards the door before he was off the desk and grabbing her hand.
"Wait!" he insisted.
She tensed, and he wondered if she was reading his mind. Casting all caution to the wind, and deciding to act before he thought for once, if for no other reason than to keep one step ahead of her, he bent closer and whispered, "Perhaps you ARE a witch! You seem to have bewitched ME!" and his lips closed over hers.
Slowly, and with aching thoroughness, he kissed her deeply. A moan rose inside her. The sensation of exquisite pleasure was almost too much to be born. He didn't rush, nor did he force her in anyway. That, in itself, was devastating. Finally she could endure it no longer, and she met his passion with her own. Her own audacity stunned Nanny almost as much as the sensations he unleashed within her. Where did she come from, this woman of fire and hunger who accepted the wildest caresses and returned them in measure? She almost trembled at the strange familiarity of it all, as though she had known this and more in some other time and place.
A soft sound broke from her, half-moan, half-sob. She wrenched her mouth away from his. "Professor, please ..."
He heard the desperation in her voice, and his arms loosened enough for her to step away from him. She did so, trembling, wrapping her arms around herself like a protective cocoon. Cheeks blazing, she stammered, "That should not have happened."
To be honest, he wasn't surprised by her reaction, only that it had taken so long to occur. She had said much the same thing the other time he had kissed her, after her long-time fiancé 'Chumley' had been sent packing, in a manner of speaking. "So you've said before," he finally spoke, his voice still husky with emotion. "But I will not apologize, because I am not sorry it happened. Not in the slightest. Maybe it shouldn't have happened ... but I don't see the harm in it."
"Don't see the harm?" she echoed. "Professor Everett, if you recall, YOU are the one who made the rule in the first place."
"Rule?" he was confused.
"No splitting hairs, please. The very day I arrived, you wanted to be sure that I was aware that although this was a motherless household, you were simply looking for a nanny and a housekeeper ... someone to take the place of the MOTHER, not of your wife, in this household. Had it been any different, you may be assured that I would not have stayed here. I hardly think things have changed that much."
"Oh, but they have. You see, we have all come to know you, Miss Phoebe Figalilly ... Nanny will do!" he smiled teasingly. "That is to say, as much as you will allow us to know you! Are we to be blamed for liking what we see? Well, are we?"
She looked as though his logic escaped her. "Professor, what does that have to do, even remotely, with the topic at hand?"
"Topic at hand?" Now he echoed her. "What are YOU talking about?"
"Why did you kiss me?" she demanded.
"Why, Miss Figalilly, I'm surprised you need to ask! Surely one such as you, with YOUR powers of deduction, to say nothing of the witchcraft of which Mrs. Fowler suspects you, would have known the reason without even asking!" he chided her, grinning broadly. Then the smile faded. "I kissed you because I wanted to do it." he added simply.
She stared at him, speechless. With a faint smile, he turned and walked out of the office, leaving her standing there. Then he popped his head back in. "AND I thoroughly enjoyed it."
"So did I ..." Phoebe whispered to herself after he was gone. Her hand touched her lips lightly. "Oh, so did I!"