Title: "Niles and Tribulations"
Author: Allison Lindsay
Pairing: Niles/C.C.
Rating: T
Disclaimer (applicable to this and all subsequent chapters): The Nanny does not belong to me. Because of that, I am quite verklempt.
This fanfiction is dedicated to Kristen M.
I use a number of Yiddish words in this story. If you're a Nanny newbie – or if you don't speak fluent Yiddish, lol – you may find yourself stumped. Don't worry. If you're in need of a translation, check out the "Lip Shtick" dictionary at Lifetime's Nanny page. (I'd provide the link right here, but this site won't permit it.)
Chapter One
C.C. Babcock waltzed through the swinging door and into the Sheffield kitchen, her eyes glued to the contract she held between expensively manicured fingertips.
As she searched the contents of the refrigerator, C.C. heard a rather unpleasant sound that reminded her of a dentist's drill. She paused, listening intently. Upon hearing nothing, Miss Babcock concluded that her mind was simply playing tricks on her. With a shrug of dismissal, she turned her attention back to the fridge. That's when the offending noise punctured her eardrums once more, louder this time. She decided to investigate.
It took the amateur detective all of two seconds to locate the source of the sound. There, at the kitchen table, clad in pajamas and a robe, sat a dozing Niles, his cheek resting atop the wooden surface.
A devilish grin crept onto Miss Babcock's face. Quietly, she tiptoed up beside him and bent at the waist so that her lips were resting right next to the man's ear. "Oh, Ni-les?" she crooned.
Feeling the breath of his archenemy against his unshaven skin – though unaware that C.C. was in the room - the butler stirred slightly. His hand fluttered, as though he was swatting away a fly, and he whacked C.C. in the process.
Miss Babcock grimaced and massaged her sore nose before continuing. "Niles? Guess what? Maxwell and I are getting married!"
At that, the butler sprang up, rewarding C.C. with yet another involuntary whack in the face. "You and Mr. Sheffield are what!" he cried, leaping to his feet.
"Ouch!" whined Miss Babcock. But the resilient businesswoman recovered quickly and in no time at all was cackling hysterically. "Ohh! You should've – haha - you've should've seen your fa-"
C.C.'s laughter dimmed, however, when she got a good look at the man before her. "Oh, Niles. You look terrible! You're positively revolting."
"I'm sick. What's your excuse?" the butler's retort reminded her, his quick wit never failing him.
A split-second pause followed while his verbal sparring partner struggled to think of a comeback. "What have you got, Niles? Rabies?" C.C. sniped.
"Why, yes, in fact. A stray dog bit me . . . a stray dog named CaCa. I'm still trying to convince Mr. Sheffield to have her put to sleep."
The blonde responded with a lofty scoff. "We're out of tomato juice, Butler Boy. What are you going to do about it?"
"Nothing," Niles replied in a frigid tone, pushing his chair in and folding up the newspaper.
"Oh, come on, Niles. You always do nothing. Don't you think it's time for a little change of routine?" C.C. challenged.
The pajama-clad butler glared at her. "Look, Miss Babcock, I am going back to bed. If you want tomato juice, then I suggest you hop on your broom and get it your bloody self!" Niles hollered. Pushing past her, he stormed out of the kitchen and up the back stairs to his room.
"'Hop on your broom,'" C.C. muttered, mocking him. "Oh, good one, Niles. Yeah, real clever." Shaking her head, she continued griping to herself. "He sounds even more awful than he looks. So nasal, just like Nanny Fine. Oy."
"Is someone calling me?"
Miss Babcock cringed at the sound of that headache-inducing voice. Turning, she caught sight of the pouffy-haired, tight-skirt-wearing nanny bounding down the stairs, her British boss in tow.
"Maxwell, what are you doing with Nanny Fine?"
"Not enough, unfortunately," Fran murmured.
The comment did not go undetected by Miss Babcock. "What was that, Nanny Fine?" the bitter blonde demanded.
"Uh, Mr. Sheffield and I are going grocery shopping."
"But that's Niles's job," countered the churlish businesswoman.
"My God, C.C.!" the producer exclaimed. "Have you seen the poor man? He's practically on his deathbed!"
"I wish!" But Maxwell's reproachful expression prompted C.C. to change her tune. A pair of cherry-red lips spread into a spurious smile as she amended, "That he would get better . . . very soon."
Mr. Sheffield didn't buy it for a second; neither did Miss Fine. "Well, now we know where the nickname Ice Princess originated from," remarked the effervescent nanny.
C.C. inhaled sharply, restraining herself from responding.
Mr. Sheffield held the back door open for Fran. "We'll be back within the hour, C.C."
"Maxwell, I really don't see why you have to go. Nanny Fine's a big girl. She can push the cart all by herself, can't she?"
The chestnut eyes of the charming brunette propelled bullets at her opponent. "For your information, Miss Babcock, Mr. Sheffield practically begged me to tag along. He would be so farmisht without me."
With that, Fran looped her arm through Maxwell's and the two went on their way, leaving a very feeble Niles in the care of the spawn of Satan.