Disclaimer: I don't own the characters from the 90's sitcom The Nanny, and I don't own season 4 on DVD either. Does that seem right to you? I make no money off of this, but it's fine because it's not like I could use any money to buy season 4 on DVD, could I?
[A/N: Here's a little oneshot for the folks who'd like a break from the admittedly heavy "Locus Amoenus." This had been on my hard drive for a while but I recently rediscovered it, finished it, and here it is! I hope you enjoy.]
Just a Dream
CC sorted through her small pile of mail and, seeing nothing noteworthy, set it back on the small table next to her front door. Just as she started thinking of what to eat for dinner, a firm knock echoed throughout her empty penthouse. Her face rumpled in confusion; she'd just gotten off the elevator. Setting her coat and bag next to the door, CC pulled it open and saw Niles standing on the other side of it.
"Niles! What are you doing here?" CC asked.
Niles grinned rakishly at her and sidestepped her to walk straight to the living room. "Yes, please, come in," CC muttered, shutting the door. With fewer maneuvers than it usually required, Niles managed to turn on the fireplace, dim the lights, and cause soft music to play in the background.
Niles turned and walked past her again, this time toward the kitchen and bar.
"What—" CC began, stunned into silence when Niles returned with a bottle of champagne in one hand, two flutes in another, and a long-stemmed rose between his teeth. Recovering her wits, CC said bluntly, "What the hell?"
Niles only smiled again and somehow filled the flutes up in less time than usual. He tipped one gently against her mouth and the bubbles caused her to scrunch up her nose. Niles chuckled deeply in his throat and brushed his thumb against her nose.
"What—" CC started again. Niles set the flutes down errantly and suddenly pulled CC close to him, softly kissing the spot on her neck that most men never bothered to try to find. "Hell," CC mumbled, her eyes flickering shut.
A moment later, Niles swept her into his arms and walked determinedly to her bedroom. The doors burst open and Niles tossed CC onto her bed, somehow unbuttoning her shirt while he did so. His own shirt had disappeared at some point; CC couldn't remember when.
Niles reared above her and didn't give her a moment to think before he kissed her more intensely than she'd ever been kissed before. Her entire body was pleasantly warm with tingles emanating from wherever Niles's fingers touched her. Within seconds, all of her clothes were gone and it seemed even the bedroom slipped away as well. All that remained was wherever his fingers and lips were upon her body.
When his tongue darted out to tease her, CC gasped and couldn't help shivering slightly. Just as she felt herself building up in much the same way she imagined a volcano did, she…
Woke up.
…
The next day, in a daze, CC stared at the front of Maxwell's desk as he babbled on about…well, she had no idea.
"Come again?" Niles said from the doorway.
CC jumped and yelped, "What?"
Niles looked at her strangely while Maxwell responded, "No, sorry, old man, I was talking to CC. As I said, CC, I think you can lick him."
"What?" CC cried.
Now Maxwell, too, look at her in confusion as he clarified, "I think you can handle this problem with our set designer."
"Oh," CC said, her eyes still a little glazed over. Niles shook his head and continued walking past the office while Maxwell looked at CC in concern for a moment until the office phone rang.
As Maxwell thankfully chattered to someone else, CC returned to her troubling thoughts. She'd awoken late the previous night, her heart pounding and her body on fire. She had managed to fall back asleep until her alarm clock went off two and a half hours later, but her body still felt tightly wound. Had she more time before work, she might have taken care of the issue herself, but that still wouldn't have alleviated her major problem:
She was having sex dreams about the butler.
About Niles.
Sure, she'd had a few dreams throughout the years, mostly strange and random dreams in which sex had not been the main feature but more a short in a series of strange events. These had amped up after their spectacular kiss last year, but they'd dwindled and she'd returned to her beefy nighttime football-playing lovers.
But last night's interrupted feature had promised to be a real thriller until she'd been rudely awakened. And by nothing! Not a phone ring, not a dog bark, nothing. Just her own subconscious making its own entirely un-funny joke.
And now, perhaps even worse than the dream itself, CC found herself unwittingly reevaluating Soft Scrub. His trim suits, his glimmer-in-the-sunlight-hair, the way his strong hands gripped the pepper grinder as it hovered over Maxwell's lunch…
Internally CC groaned. What the hell was happening to her?
…
That night, CC finished another chapter in her novel and set it down on the bedside table. Nodding to herself, CC grabbed the bottle of anti-anxiety medication that Dr. Bort had prescribed a few years ago (when Nanny Fine first started, incidentally). It was prescribed to be taken on an as-needed basis; CC, never being one to admit what she needed, had only taken a few throughout the years. Now, though, CC doubted she'd ever needed it more. The pills didn't calm her down so much as knock her out and CC reasoned they'd give her a relatively dreamless sleep.
Swallowing one of the pills with a bottle of water, CC turned off her light and settled back against the fluffy pillows.
Perhaps the hope of a dreamless sleep had calmed her enough, for CC slipped off sooner than she normally would have…
This time, CC found herself in the office of the Sheffield home, sorting through the paperwork on her lap. Niles entered the office through the terrace, letting in a draft that scattered the papers to the floor.
"Damnit, Niles," CC uttered, bending over to pick up the ones nearest her.
Niles bent over to help pick them up, setting them on the couch next to her. He looked up into her face and softly grazed his fingers along her legs, causing goosebumps to erupt everywhere. Niles smiled at her immediate reaction and didn't stop moving his hands up her legs until he'd reached the tops of her stockings along her thighs.
"Niles, s-someone could be home," CC said softly.
Niles paused and looked into CC's face; seeing it fall slightly at his cessation of movement, he grinned again and resumed removing her stockings. Niles began kissing his way up her legs, starting at her ankles. CC's limbs felt heavier than usual, though Niles didn't seem to mind that CC didn't actively participate. He seemed more than willing to do the work for both of them.
Niles' mouth reached the side of her knee and he tugged her forward, resting her legs on his shoulders. Her legs were soon quivering as she felt the familiar build-up inside her…
CC's eyes slid open slightly, her mind foggy and her mouth dry. She realized dimly that she was panting heavily and her pounding heart seemed to reverberate throughout her entire body before her head fell back heavily on the pillow and she fell back asleep.
…
Sitting next to Maxwell in the Lincoln, CC stared silently at the glove compartment.
"Then Niles can bend you over and—" Maxwell continued.
"What?" CC exclaimed, looking wildly over at her business partner.
"I said Niles can mend it later and then return it to you," Maxwell said, pointing to CC's coat that Niles had "accidentally" spilled coffee on before she and Max had left for their meeting.
"Oh. Right," CC said.
"I do hope you aren't still angry. It was obviously an accident," Max said, stopping at a red light and turning his blinker on.
CC rolled her eyes. "Yeah, right."
This was the Niles she knew: ornery, immature, prankish Niles who spilled coffee all over her pristine white Chanel coat. Whatever Niles appeared in her dreams was clearly some inflated work of her imagination. A sexy, talented, stunning piece of work of her imagination.
"CC?" Maxwell asked, his not-quite-as-pleasant British voice breaking into her reverie. "What's gotten into you lately?"
"Nothing," CC replied. And that appeared to be the problem.
…
A few days later, CC pushed into the kitchen, her normally pristine hair mussed up a little and dark circles marring her face. She glanced around quickly, a slight twitch in her right eye. Spying Nanny Fine sitting at the table reading a magazine, CC hurried over to her and stood right next to her, shifting jerkily from foot to foot.
"Busy, Nanny Fine?"
"Actually, this article is really interes—" Fran began.
"Good," CC interrupted, now wringing her hands. "Want to get lunch with me?"
"Uh…Miss Babcock, it's 10:30," Fran said.
"Oh…right. Right, right. Coffee, then?" CC suggested.
Fran opened her mouth and appeared to be on the verge of turning her down when her eyes travelled from CC's messy hair down to her tangled hands. "Sure, Miss Babcock. Let's go get some coffee."
"Great, come on," CC said, pulling the keys to her Mercedes out of her pocket.
"I'm still in my jammies," Fran said, standing up and showing CC her fuzzy robe and slippers.
"Oh. Ok. I'll go wait in the car." CC exited the kitchen and Fran stared after her, completely bemused.
…
CC drummed her fingers against the mug containing her dark coffee. On the other side of the small, polished table, Fran twirled the straw in her frozen, whipped-cream-topped concoction.
"So what's on your mind?" Fran asked after waiting several minutes for CC to begin talking.
"My mind? Not much," CC replied, taking a small sip of her beverage.
"Right…because we always get coffee together," Fran remarked.
"Well, I…I thought we should start."
Fran gave her a look and CC sighed.
"Ok. Fine. I've been having these…troubling dreams lately," CC began.
"Does it involve a penguin?" Fran asked suddenly, her hand darting out and grasping CC's. "Ma's next door neighbor kept having this recurring dream about a penguin wearing her best pair of black pumps. Meanwhile—"
"No. No penguins," CC interrupted bluntly. "It's a…an erotic dream," CC continued carefully.
"Ooh!" Fran squealed, clapping her hands. "Interestingly enough, I'm still going to ask if there's a penguin because Mrs. Horowitz—"
"No penguins!" CC shrieked loudly enough to garner the attention of the other tables' occupants. "Sorry," CC continued in a lower tone. "It's just…these dreams are about someone I wouldn't normally have them about."
Fran eyed her closely. "It isn't Mr. Sheffield, is it?"
CC rolled her eyes. "Please. My dreams aren't that boring." Before Fran could work through this, CC went on, "It's just bothersome because…well, I wake up feeling very…unsatisfied."
"Oh, poor Miss Babcock. Even in your dreams you can't be fulfilled," Fran said in her trademarked way of unintentionally delivering an insult.
"Well, no, it's not like that," CC said, taking another quick drink of her coffee. "It's a good dream…a fantastic dream, actually…but I always wake up before anything happens, you know?"
"Boy do I ever. So why did you invite me to coffee?" Fran asked, taking a long gulp from her drink, scrunching her face up at the inevitable subsequent brain freeze.
"Well…I was wondering if you knew how to make them stop," CC said, shifting in her seat. "It's becoming unbearable. I sleep for a few hours but then I wake up, all tense and…and bothered. I've tried everything…sleeping pills, staying up late, going to bed earlier…"
"Have you tried solving the problem yourself?" Fran asked pointedly.
"Yes," CC replied sheepishly. "It helped for a moment but it just isn't quite the same."
Fran nodded sympathetically. "So who's the dream guy? Maybe the dream isn't as much about the sex as it is about him."
"It's…it's just the choreographer we hired. I've worked with him before and I don't even really like him that much. I've never really thought of him in that way before so it's surprising that I am now. Surprising and annoying. And frustrating. And—"
"I get it. Still, ya know, the dreams might be about him. It's like a romantic comedy, ya know, where the guy and the girl don't get along and seem to hate each other but ya just know they're gonna end up together," Fran rambled. "How does he act in your dreams?"
CC shrugged. "He just immediately starts…starts doing stuff. He doesn't even talk."
"Hmm," Fran said thoughtfully. "So he doesn't act like he usually does around you?" As CC shook her head, Fran continued, "Then it's probably just about sex. You, Miss Babcock, wanna get some."
"But…but…" CC spluttered.
"When was the last time that happened for you?"
"That's hardly the point—" CC stammered.
"Oh, I assure you, that is the point and let's hope it's hard. So it's been awhile. I hear that, sister. Lucky for you, Val and I are going out tonight and you can come with us. I'm sure you can get a hottie to solve your problem," Fran said. CC opened her mouth to protest and Fran overrode her. "No more. We're going."
…
Fran and Val stood a few feet away from CC, sipping their drinks and swaying slightly to the music.
"Oy, Val, going through her closet was like flipping through a book called 'Colors of the Earth.' No flash, no sparkle, not even one sequin," Fran lamented, shaking her head sadly.
"So that's the best you could do?" Val asked, gesturing towards CC's muted, conservative plum halter dress.
Fran nodded. "She tried to get me to let her wear a blazer over it. She said that's the ensemble. I had to remind her that we weren't going to a backer's meeting."
"Still, her closet had to be nice, right? She has so much money."
"Val, the labels I saw in that closet. And not one was misspelled!"
"No!"
"Yes," Fran said, nodding impressively. "Ooh, look, a guy's walking up to her. I told her to look sexy."
"Fran…that's not a sexy face," Val said uncertainly, watching as CC gave what could only be called a sneer to the man walking up to her. The man halted a few feet away, hovered hesitantly, and then turned and walked away.
"Oy, Val, this isn't gonna be easy," Fran told her. "Here, hold my drink." She hurried over to CC and smiled in a placating sort of way. "This is going great, Miss Babcock! You're doing really well. But ya know, I think maybe you shouldn't try to look sexy. You…you don't need to try."
"Are you sure? I thought about trying this face," CC said, giving Fran a grimace.
"Oh, God," Fran replied immediately. "I mean, oh, wow, that's great. Maybe we'll try that later!" Fran gave a big smile and walked back to Val, her eyes immediately rolling when CC couldn't see her anymore.
"Val, I don't know what to do with her," Fran said into Val's ear.
"Well, that's a little better," Val reasoned, watching as CC leaned against the bar. "She looks like a bored rich girl. Guys like that, right?"
"Right," Fran agreed with a little more hope in her voice. The girls watched as CC's face returned to its natural look. Fran had, of course, not reckoned on how intimidating and predatory CC's emotionless face could be.
"Uh…Fran…don't you think she looks a little…"
"Scary?" Fran finished, her eyes widening. She noticed the people at the bar giving CC a wider berth, leaving two full feet of space between her and everyone else. Fran sighed and walked back over to CC.
"Nanny Fine, this doesn't seem to be working," CC said, biting her lip insecurely.
"Sure, sure it is," Fran replied consolingly. "It just takes people some time to…er…warm up. Look, Miss Babcock, how about you try dancing? Just loosen up a bit and…and move to the beat."
"Ok," CC said uncertainly. "Are you sure you and Val don't want to stand with me? This feels awkward."
"Trust me, three women are intimidating," Fran said, patting CC's arm before turning and hurrying back to Val.
A few moments later, Val cried, "What did you tell her to do, Fran?"
Fran turned and watched CC. Fran's face immediately fell and she placed her hand over her forehead, exasperated. "I told her to dance. What is she doing?"
"She looks like she's having an attack," Val described as CC moved from foot to foot, jutting out her elbows and swinging her head.
"Yetta dances better than that," Fran muttered. "Should I stop her?"
"Fran, even I know that's a stupid question," Val returned.
"Ok, ok," Fran said. She hurried back over to CC and grasped both elbows, halting her movement. "Hey! Great moves. Let's stop."
"Is it working?"
"Well…guys are looking at you," Fran said, and this wasn't a lie: CC had indeed attracted the attention of nearly everyone around her.
"Oh, Nanny Fine, this is stupid," CC snapped, downing the rest of her martini. "This is not the type of bar I frequent and these guys aren't even my type and it isn't even like me to just pick up a guy and-and go sleep with him."
Fran saw the disgusted look that crossed her face. "Miss Babcock, you're a grown woman. If you're careful and smart about it, it doesn't matter."
"I was a debutante," CC told Fran harshly. "I was taught that a gentleman meets with a lady several times before he asks her on a date. And I don't dance to whatever noise this is. I dance to…to Vivaldi and Wagner and—"
"Right, and all that is working really well for you right now," Fran cut in. "There's nothing wrong with the guys here. Well," Fran said, eyeing a sketchy-looking man lurking in the corner by himself, "ok, maybe there's something wrong with that one. But you don't have to be all uptight all the time. People are just people."
CC bristled at these words, the truth in them grating against her nerves. In truth, CC felt completely out of her element in this bar and was much more accustomed to drinking martinis alone at a quiet establishment that had actual chairs where the men would approach her without her having to do anything. And it didn't exactly escape her notice that Fran was attracting the attention of nearly every single guy in the place; hell, even Val was getting more looks than her.
"Nanny Fine, I…I don't think any of these guys are my type," CC muttered, drumming her fingers nervously on the bar top.
Fran looked at her sympathetically. "Ok, Miss Babcock. Let's just have another drink, just us girls, and then we can leave." Fran waved Val over, disappointed in her failed mission.
…
"CC, I'm afraid this is highly unorthodox," Dr. Bort said, her small hands wrapped tightly around a steaming mug of coffee.
"If change scares you this much, doctor, then maybe you need therapy," CC quipped, stirring her own latte.
Dr. Bort smiled, seemingly against her will, and tapped her pointer finger against her mug. "All right, then. What is troubling you?"
"I've been having…dreams," CC finished lamely.
"No! Dreams, you say? I'll have to alert my colleagues," Dr. Bort remarked.
CC looked at her balefully. "Leave the sarcasm to me, doc. And let me finish!"
Dr. Bort nodded and silently gestured for CC to continue.
"I've been having some…some troubling dreams about…" Here, CC hesitated. She hadn't told Fran, for obvious reasons, and she didn't quite want to tell her doctor because—
"About Niles?" Dr. Bort guessed.
Because of that. CC sighed. "Yes."
"I see. And are these erotic dreams?" Dr. Bort asked.
CC blushed and looked around quickly; at this hour, past rush hour and before the midday rush, the coffee shop was nearly empty. "Yes," CC hissed.
"First, I must remind you that sexuality is nothing to be ashamed of, CC. Most likely, you're having these dreams b—" Dr. Bort began.
"Because repressing sexual urges results in a psychosomatic response pattern much like the one I'm experiencing now," CC recited.
Dr. Bort smiled. "We've had this conversation before."
"And since it hasn't inspired any sort of epiphany in me yet, I'm going to guess that you're wrong," CC replied flatly. "After all," CC continued, inspired by what Fran had said on the subject, "he doesn't even act like he usually does. He doesn't say one word in my dreams. So I don't think the dreams are about him."
"Based on what I'm going to guess are recurring dreams featuring the same person and ending in a frustrated manner," again, CC blushed, "I'll hazard to guess that they are about him, just perhaps the type of person you wish he'd be around you."
"I do often wish he'd shut up," CC surmised, a glazed look in her eyes. She snapped back to herself with a start and shook her head as though to clear it. "No! They aren't about him!"
Dr. Bort sighed. "CC. When you came to me complaining about Maxwell Sheffield's butler all those years ago, I supposed it was just another version of the class wars that erupt in the Upper East Side almost daily. When you continued complaining about him, I assumed you were upset that he'd essentially taken Sara's place in everyone's lives but yours. When it kept happening, I figured you resented his quick affinity for the new nanny, who again took Sara's place in everyone's lives but your own. Now that it's continuing to occur, I can't help but equate it with this charming movie I saw a few weeks ago—"
"Stop. Right now. You have original copies of Freud and Jung and Erikson in your office and you instead reference a Julia Roberts movie?"
"So you've seen it!" Dr. Bort replied happily.
CC groaned.
…
CC wrung her hands nervously as she stood in the dining room, just outside the kitchen door. Inside, she could hear pots and pans clanging against one another as Niles did the dishes from the just-completed dinner.
I'm having sexual dreams about a man who does dishes for a living, CC told herself, shaking her head. When the water stopped running, CC took a steadying breath and pushed into the kitchen. Niles was drying his hands on a kitchen towel and CC reflected on that previous evening's dream in which he'd given her a rather enjoyable massage before…CC's cheeks reddened and she walked further into the kitchen.
"Looking for scraps, Lassie?" Niles remarked, tossing the towel on the counter.
Ignoring his remark, CC plunged forward, "Niles…" Abruptly as it had struck her, her courage failed.
"Your best insult ever," Niles replied, shaking his head disappointedly.
This is a business deal. Approach it like a business deal. Get what you want and then it's over and you can move on with your life, CC told herself firmly. Steeling her resolve, CC tried again. "Niles, have you ever had a dream about me?"
"Oh, all the time," Nile replied casually. CC's heart began jumping on a trampoline, clapping its hands excitedly.
"Really?"
"Sure," Niles said. "My favorite is when we're on a ship and you're standing right near the side, then we hit a crest in the waves and I figure I can just blame it on that so I give you a little shove and—"
"Not that kind of dream!"
"Then what kind?" Niles asked. He looked at the uncomfortable grimace gracing CC's face and, nonplussed, asked, "You mean…you couldn't mean…that kind of dream?"
For a moment, CC hoped that Niles's humanity would kick in for once when it came to her and that he'd either agree or listen politely while she explained. Her hopes were dashed to the ground to mingle with the shreds of her dignity as Niles let out a huge, booming belly laugh.
"It disgusts me just as much," CC shot back and was mollified to see that Niles stopped laughing and looked slightly offended.
"Then why are you here telling me about it?" Niles asked suspiciously.
"I have tried almost everything to make the dreams stop," CC admitted. "And nothing is working."
"Is that why you went out with Miss Fine the other night?" Niles asked, to which CC nodded. "Ah, I see. So, again, I ask: why are you telling me about it?"
"It's no secret that your dance card hasn't been filled since the days of acid-washed jeans," CC began. "And you have something that I apparently need. So consider it a business transaction."
Niles paused and his face flickered for a moment before it became inscrutable again. "Consider what, exactly?"
"A meeting. Tonight. One meeting to settle the…the problems arising for both of us. Then the terms will be settled and we'll be free to move on with our lives," CC said.
"I have to ask, Miss Babcock, what makes you think I'd be interested?" Niles wanted to know.
"Because 23 seconds ago, you thought I didn't notice your eyes staring down my blouse" was all CC offered. She turned to exit the kitchen and said over her shoulder, "My penthouse. Tonight. 8pm."
…
CC tugged at the bottom of her black silk slip, wondering for the eighth time whether she should change. She already had five times, going from a red lace corset and garters to a more conservative cotton nightgown, and then to a black lace teddy to a pair of pants and a shirt. She'd spent a whole five minutes fully clothed before the idea of opening her front door to him wearing less clothes than he'd surely be wearing sent a thrill through her.
So she'd reached something of a compromise, covering the slip with a matching silk robe. The clock read 7:56; she had no time to change again, knowing without a doubt that if she were even a few seconds late to opening her front door, Niles would leave, cursing Babcock and her pranks. If he even showed up at all, that is.
CC gnawed at her lip and pulled once again at the slip, too aware that it exposed a large expanse of her milky white thighs. She suddenly wrapped the robe around her tightly and knotted the sash—but did that give the wrong impression? Loosening the tie, she exposed more of her collarbone and part of her lace-covered breast. She considered artfully exposing more of her shoulder when she heard a knock at her door.
With a deep breath, CC unlocked and opened her door, arching an eyebrow when she saw a small, colorful bouquet of flowers in Niles's hands.
"For Chester," Niles explained, stepping over the threshold and shutting the door. CC rolled her eyes and took the flowers, setting them on the dining room table as Niles hung up his coat in the closet.
CC stared at him expectantly as he turned back towards her, looking at her just as expectantly. With a sigh, CC said, "Well?"
"Well? This was all your idea, woman," Niles replied.
CC nodded, understanding without him telling her that he was nervous. She supposed she might have been too, had the roles been reversed and she hadn't been kept awake for two weeks with a burning desire for him. She stepped forward and wrapped her arms loosely around his neck, the movement all the more awkward with Niles standing stiff as a board. "Put your hands on my waist, Niles," she instructed, rolling her eyes.
He placed them there tentatively; if her clothes were any thicker, she likely wouldn't have realized he was doing it at all. "Like this?"
"No, Nancy Lightfoot, grab me," CC snapped, placing her palms on Niles's hands and bending his fingers into her skin. She replaced her arms around his neck. "No, not like this. We look like middle-schoolers at a dance, for God's sake."
Niles immediately dropped his hands back to his sides and awaited further instruction.
"Do something, Niles."
"I…er, like what?"
CC heaved a deep, disappointed, existential sigh. She felt Niles's shoulders become taut and his face, more guarded. "Niles, relax. I only need one part of you to be stiff, you know."
Niles blushed but retorted, "Well, I'm sorry, but I've never seen Satan's minion this exposed before and I'm a little worried for my health."
She shoved him away and pulled her silk robe across her, tying it again. Niles reached forward as though to stop her movements, his face a little regretful, but then stopped.
"I'm sorry," he said quickly. "What did I do in your dreams, then?"
"You didn't talk nearly this much," CC said, her face flushed in irritation.
Niles nodded, as though to accept this as fair, and then stepped closer to CC. Her eyes surveyed him closely the entire time, making him feel even more exposed than her. He reached up and placed his palm on her cheek, resting his left hand on her hip. "Er, no…how about this?" Keeping his one hand still on her cheek, Niles reached around and rested his other hand on her bum, the tips of his fingers meeting her warm flesh where the short slip ended.
Both the novelty of the sensation and the coldness of his fingers made CC jump slightly, so Niles pulled his hand away and rested it safely on her back. "This?" he questioned, before shaking his head as though to remind himself that he wasn't supposed to talk so much.
CC watched his progress, her brow furrowing when Niles pressed his palm against her cheek a little harder, stretching her mouth wider and wrinkling the skin at her temples. "Niles!"
He jumped away as though he'd burned himself, holding his hands up in surrender.
"Niles, I'm going to ask you a question, and I want you to be completely honest with me. Have you ever had sex with a woman before?"
"Yes!" Niles snapped, offended. "I just haven't had her gremlin eyes staring at me the entire time."
"Really, Niles, watching you attempt to seduce me is like watching Bambi learn how to walk."
"Maybe if you were a little more—"
"No," CC cut him off. "This isn't helping. Less talking."
"You're the one who started it," Niles grumbled.
"Niles!"
"Ok, ok," he said, his shoulders slumping.
He stood there for a few long moments, uncertain, before CC made a sound between a sigh and a growl and took his face with both hands and kissed him. It started out pleasant enough, and CC felt a stirring in her lower abdomen, but then the timing was off—Niles went left when CC went left, then both went right. Both made twin sounds of exasperation before reaching out and yanking the other to them—resulting in a crash that knocked the wind out of both.
Niles thumped his chest and doubled over, trying to regain his senses, while CC experienced a mini-coughing fit that left her eyes watering.
This wasn't right. Something was off, but CC reminded herself that she could hardly expect Niles to act as the Niles of her subconscious had. That Niles had known exactly what to do and when, and CC had never encountered a man like that before.
Deciding to be more proactive, CC resolved to be a little rougher in hopes of spurring Niles on. She reached over and dug her nails into the back of Niles's neck, dragging him to her.
"Ow! Stop!" Niles screeched in her face, smacking her arm away and rubbing his neck with a scowl.
"Niles, you spit on me," CC complained, wiping her cheek of his spittle.
"Trim those talons, woman!" Niles said, dabbing at his skin to check for blood.
"God, you know, I thought we had at least a little chemistry," CC muttered, mostly to herself. Still, she wanted Niles to hear her, and the inscrutable look on his face told her that he had. She shook her head. "This isn't working."
"You don't say," he remarked wryly.
"Thanks for nothing, Butler Boy," CC said, crossing her arms over her chest.
Niles spared a quick glance at her cleavage before looking up into her face which was once again expectant. "What?"
"Leave!"
"What?" he spluttered.
"You agreed it isn't working, so you should just go," CC explained. She shooed him with her hands and watched as he turned to the closet and retrieved his coat. He tossed a look to her over his shoulder before shaking his head and leaving without another word.
The bright flowers on the dining table caught her eye, and she turned to finger one of the soft petals, a small smile on her face. He'd brought her flowers? Dream Niles hadn't done that.
Wondering whether she had any fresh batteries for what had apparently turned out to be a solo night, CC actually jumped in the air when her penthouse door crashed open and Niles stormed in.
"Wha—" The rest of the word drowned in Niles's mouth as it settled over hers, immediately taking advantage of its openness and sliding his tongue inside. He gathered CC in his arms, his fingers clinging to her back, and turned them around so that he could shut the door and press CC up against it. She heard the lock click and the deadbolt slide into place, the action sending a shot of desire through her: they were alone. No interruptions.
Pinning her against the door with his hips, Niles pulled open her robe and pressed his palms against her waist. He wrenched his lips from hers, leaving her panting, to trail kisses to her ear where he whispered, "Take it off."
She slid her arms out of the robe obediently, the material sliding off and pooling against her lower back. Niles dug his fingers into her hips and pulled her against his pelvis, the motion allowing the robe to slither to the floor. A sound somewhere deep in his throat spoke its appreciation of the bare expanse of CC's arms and shoulders he could now see. He moved his lips determinedly to her neck, and CC gasped when he found the sweet spot on her skin, eliciting shivers and goosebumps all over her. It was almost as though he'd known it was there—was she dreaming?
She felt his lips curl into a smirk and he chuckled against her clavicle, the sound causing vibrations in her. CC leaned against the door, her hands resting on Niles's strong shoulders, enjoying doing nothing but feeling his lips and hands on her. But she was suddenly struck by a fierce desire to feel him, part of him, all of him, him, so she pulled him closer and pulled his suit coat from him, running her hands appreciatively over the soft sweater he wore.
Raking her fingers through his soft, thick hair, CC held him closely to her so that even as he pulled his head back to say something, his question was still muffled in her cheeks. "Where?" he asked hoarsely.
"Hmm?" CC hummed, trying to figure out a possible way to be closer to him. She shifted her hips and felt his groan rumble through his torso.
"Here?" Niles asked, pressing a kiss to the hollow of her throat. "Table?" Kiss to that spot on her neck. Her knees quivered. "Couch?" He traced the shell of her ear with his tongue. "Bed?" When he leaned down to take her breast into his mouth, CC gasped and her knees almost buckled.
"Yes," she replied.
Niles chuckled and stood up again, his hand replacing his mouth. "Your wish is my command."
But upon hearing that she desired more than just once—more than any number she could conceivably think of, were she to be honest—Niles slowed down, feathering kisses against her cheeks and her lips, his hands lovingly and gently caressing her. He seemed content to take his time.
CC forced her eyes open, the slowed onslaught allowing for the return of some of her faculties, and looked at him. He smiled at her, mischievously and playfully, before pressing another sweet, chaste kiss to her lips. She returned it but couldn't ignore the small jolt that coursed through her with each touch of his mouth to hers.
She opened her mouth to protest, but Niles pressed a finger to her lips to stop her—then began lightly tracing the outline of them with the tip of his index. "Patience, Babcock," he said quietly, his eyes softening as he looked at her.
Her breath caught in her throat. This was new. Dream Niles definitely hadn't looked at her like that. What did it mean?
"I have work to do," Niles told her, suddenly dropping to his knees in front of her. He tossed her left leg over his shoulder and pushed the hem of the slip up slowly, as though he were revealing something precious.
Later, CC couldn't be sure—her memories consisted of more abstract pleasure rather than concrete thought—but she thought she heard him whisper "beautiful" before his lips and tongue found their destination.
…
CC lay against her mattress, utterly and delicious spent. She'd heard of the "post-coital bliss" before and had scoffed: aside from a sometimes pleasurable glow after, CC often wanted nothing more than to leave and/or be left alone. But this. This.
This was something quite blissful.
A goofy smiled plastered itself to her face, not even bothering to fade away when Niles glanced over at her, and it only brightened when it saw itself mirrored on his face. She had a feeling that, were her muscles not overworked and oversoaked in adrenaline, her entire body would be buzzing.
They had managed to cross "table" and "bed" off of their list before CC had collapsed where she currently lay, sprawled on her back and her chest panting provocatively. The couch remained to be conquered.
Their hands met in the middle of the bed, their fingers twining together loosely.
But her brain was a little troubled. No, she thought, not troubled. Befuddled? Yes, perhaps that was it.
Whereas the beginning of the evening had found CC extoling Dream Niles and cursing Real Niles, now she found herself again comparing them. There was something Real Niles had that the man in her dream hadn't—what was it? CC glanced over at him again and his eyes twinkled at her. She suspected he'd been looking at her the entire time.
There.
That was it.
Dream Niles had been playful and impish, but this was what his eyes had been missing: affection. The Niles who currently lay beside her in bed, for all the world as though he'd been doing it for years, looked at her so…so fondly and CC didn't know how to take it.
That was a lie. She knew. She craved it. It was why any other encounter with any other mine, while physically sufficient (though certainly not multiply so as it apparently was with Niles), would never have been satisfying.
It was not just sex she'd desired. It was Niles.
The revelation was less of a revelation than CC finally admitting that it was what it was. Testing the waters, she gently squeezed Niles's hand and grinned when he returned the pressure immediately. Still keeping her hand in his, CC stretched languidly and craned her neck to look at the clock. Her eyes popped open at the time; on cue, her body yawned widely.
Reaching with one hand, CC grasped the blanket and duvet that she—or Niles—had kicked aside earlier in the evening and covered both of them up.
"Are you sure?" Niles asked, his voice soft. CC hummed her assurance, flicking off the light and falling back against her fluffy pillows. They fell asleep within moments, still holding hands.
…
The next morning dawned bright, finding the two lovers not holding hands anymore but their limbs entwined. CC blinked once, twice, several times and closed her eyes determinedly, hiding her face in Niles's collarbone. She'd gotten to bed late, yes, but she couldn't recall having slept so well in recent memory.
Niles stroked his left hand up and down CC's spine, goosebumps erupting wherever his fingers touched. "Did you sleep well?"
"Hmm."
"No more dreams, then?"
CC's eyes opened fully at this. Here, then, was her choice: to tell the truth or to lie?
The truth was always preferable. Lies benefited no one. Indeed, it was the well-lived life that—
"Oh, I dreamt all night long," CC said, sitting up and looking Niles in the face. "Nonstop. I barely slept."
Niles's mouth twitched as he surveyed her, his eyes full of merriment. "Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. I suppose you'll still be needing my services, then?"
"Unfortunately," CC sighed. She leaned into him and pressed a long, lingering kiss to his mouth. "You still owe me the couch, anyway."
"A butler's work is never done," Niles said lamentingly. He grinned at her and gathered her in his arms, his hand traveling down her back to rest on her bum. "Let's get started, then, shall we?"
"First thing's first, Butler Boy," CC told him, throwing back the covers and hopping out of bed, suddenly alert with boundless energy. She offered him her hand and he happily accepted it, admiring her bare body in the morning sunlight. "Let's take a shower."
She gleefully led him towards her en-suite and he grinned, remarking, "You're awfully full of energy for someone who didn't sleep a wink last night."
She spun around quickly, pressing a finger to his lips. "Shh." Replacing her finger with her mouth, CC wrapped her arms around him and pulled him with her the rest of the way.