A/N: Strange how I've been most productive when I literally have the most work I've had in my life... I promised myself I wouldn't wade into another multi-chapter story, but it turns out some promises are really fun to break. So, here's another something - you've seen it before I'm sure, but it's the kind of drivel I love to read so please forgive me! If you love it, if you hate it - please review.
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Disclaimer: It isn't mine.
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Five Times CC Says 'I Love You', And One She Doesn't Have To
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FIVE
The last time CC Babcock tells Niles she loves him, they're sat on a bench. He'll be dead in 2 weeks, though neither of them knows it. Had they known, she might have told him she loved him again, might not have been able to stop telling him. Had they known, they might not have even bothered leaving the apartment. It's probably best they have no idea.
As it is, they're on a bench in the Park, near the Bathesda Terrace. Niles can hear children and birds and running water, which is making him need to pee. His face is scrunched up against the sun high in the sky. CC turns from the view across the lake to look back at him. He has ditched the jacket of his three-piece suit, rolled up his sleeves and undone his top button. In his shirt pocket are the glasses he refuses to wear - he says they detract from his youthful good looks, but his hair has by now gone completely white. With his eyes clamped closed and his lips pursed, she smiles from the sight of him.
He's picked her up for lunch. She's still working, of course she is, even after all this time; still pulling long days in cramped seats at the back of dingy theatres. He picked her up from the office, brought a picnic and a cab and a smile to her face. He's brought a thermos and made sandwiches with the crusts cut off. They'd made the switch from white to wholemeal bread at the doctor's urging. She remains unconvinced.
'Did David call?' He asks, his eyes still shut.
Their son is a Harvard man, and everything they dreamed of, with his mother's eyes and his father's charm. They had a fight a few days ago; he wants to get married, his mother wants him to get a graduate degree. There was shouting.
'No,' she says. There's a pause. 'Don't say it.'
'I didn't say anything.'
He lifts one eyebrow, opens one eye to look at her. She rolls her eyes.
'I'll call him tonight,' she says.
His hand blindly reaches for hers and their fingers link across the bench. He says nothing.
'I love you,' she says.
He leans over, kisses her cheek. He pulls back, and sighs contentedly.
'I know.'
She cackles. He opens an eye again to catch her smiling, and finds himself grinning like a fool at the sight of crimson lips and white teeth, pronounced laughter lines at the corners of those sparkling eyes. Her hand is warm.
They sit in the sun beside a mountain of Tupperware, and they are happy, and they are alive.