Hi, everybody! It's been a little while because I've had a lot of university work to get through, but I've finally gotten around to beginning to post multi-chapter fics. I asked a few people on Tumblr which idea (out of four that I'd most developed) I should focus on first, and the first thing those people might notice about this is that this wasn't the most popular choice. I must apologise to them for this, but when I continued writing each of the stories, this was the one I just felt most able to write for at the time. I will be writing the others fully in the future, though, so I promise no one will miss out.
I'm not sure I'm completely happy with this chapter, mainly because I love writing interaction between Niles and C.C., and C.C. isn't in this chapter, but also because I'm not sure I've quite got the characterisation right here. But I can assure you that there will be plenty of interaction between Niles and C.C. in later chapters, and I will continue to make my stories the best that they can be. At any rate, I hope that you enjoy it. And in terms of context, this fiction work would be set somewhere around early Season 6.
Disclaimer: I don't own The Nanny, any of the characters, or settings.
The argument had been going for nearly an hour. Nobody really even knew how it had started. Niles had probably asked Mr. Sheffield for a pay rise again, but that was the best guess that Fran and the children could make, considering none of them had been into the office. Especially not after the shouting began.
It was due any second to spill out into the living room; they could hear it coming closer. The family members tried to make their various escapes in different directions, but it was too late, and the Broadway producer marched forcefully into the living room, followed closely by the butler. Niles was in the middle of a sentence as he stormed through the doors, scowling at Maxwell.
"I've looked after you all my life-"
"Which is funny because by now, you ought to have learned to know your place around here!"
That stopped the butler in his advance. He straightened up, shocked, and visibly hurt and angry.
"I thought my place was as a part of this family, you ungrateful, oblivious-"
"You're not a part of this family! You are a servant. Your place is to clean up after this family, and it always has been!" Maxwell paused, as though considering something, and his voice became oddly calm, if slightly heated. "At least it was. Get out; you're fired."
The butler marched past him and the other gathered witnesses, towards the stairs, "You fire me at least three times every week you idiot, this isn't any different!"
"Yes it is, because this time I really mean it!" Maxwell snapped back, following close behind. He stopped at the bottom of the stairs, the rage-filled part of him determined to have the last word.
"Well, you can't fire me, because I quit!" Niles leaned over the banister to yell out. "And it's not a moment too soon, either!"
Maxwell continued his tirade as the butler's form continued to retreat in the direction of his room, "Technically, it's a moment too late, because I JUST FIRED YOU!"
He was answered with the sound of a distant slamming door, the ferocity causing everyone who had been watching to flinch. The only one who stood still was Max himself. After a moment or two of complete silence he seemed to collect himself, gave a stiff nod, and made to head back into his office. Fran's eyes followed her husband, until the doors separated him from her line of vision. She then glanced around at the children, all of whom had barely moved.
She wrapped her arms around Maggie and Grace's shoulders, pulling Brighton in closer with one hand so she could hug them all.
"Hey, why don't you guys go into the kitchen an' get the Chinese takeout menu?" she suggested gently. "We'll order in tonight. I'll be right back."
Letting Maggie take the lead in ushering her siblings into the kitchen, Fran made her way upstairs.
The door to his room was open, and she found the now former butler emptying his wardrobe, a suitcase open on the bed and a small pile of clothes already inside.
"Niles, I-"
"Save it, Fran," the butler replied without looking up. He dumped more clothes into the case. "It's been a long time coming."
The former nanny struggled to find words – any words, that she thought might make him change his mind about leaving.
After a few moments, she finally found a compelling argument, "Well, can't'cha at least wait until it's morning? It'll be dark in a few hours!"
"I'm a grown adult, I know how to take care of myself," Niles tightened his lips until his mouth formed a line, and he huffed in indignation. "Besides, it's been made very clear that I'm not welcome here anymore."
Fran tried again, "He's just upset; give him some time ta cool off-"
Niles ceased angrily folding up the last of his shirts to glare at her.
"How long do you recommend exactly, hm? Long enough for me to placate him by bringing him a glass of brandy? Or perhaps something a little more long-term, like preparing his favourite dinner? I can't exactly go and talk to him like an equal – you heard what he said. I am a servant, and I should learn to know my place."
He spat the final words out bitterly, slamming his now-full suitcase shut as he did so. Fran jumped a little. She'd never seen him so worked up about anything. Well, maybe once or twice with Miss Babcock, but this was a different kind of worked up. Niles didn't seem to be getting any kicks out of this argument.
She made one last ditch effort to get her friend to stop and think, "…What're ya gonna do? Where are ya gonna go?"
Her friend stared at his suitcase, "I don't know. I don't really care, either. I'll find somewhere – anywhere. I'm not without experience, and I still have my degree to fall back on."
It sounded more like he was trying to reassure himself, rather than her. Not that his prospects were truly worth that much. When it came to hiring, a middle-aged butler with a degree older than some people looking to start careers wasn't high on the list, as far as most employers were concerned. Fran frowned deeply, only able to watch as he lifted the case up, used his free hand in order to straighten his jacket, and turned to head out.
She followed him downstairs, to the front door. The children were waiting there, too. It appeared as though both Maggie and Grace had been crying – there were still a few tears in the youngest Sheffield's eyes, threatening to overspill. Pulling herself free of her sister, she ran towards the butler, and hugged him around the middle.
"Please don't go, Niles."
Niles gently lowered his case to the ground so he could hug her back, "I'm sorry, Little One, but I have to."
Maggie stepped forward, determination in her eyes, "But Daddy's wrong in this! He can't just-"
Niles cut her off, "I'm afraid he can, Miss Margaret. And neither you, nor I, nor anybody else for that matter, can change that. Now I'm sorry, but…that's just the way it is."
There was a silence, and Maggie made her way over to put her arms around Niles, too.
Fighting to hold back tears, he hugged them both, "I will miss you three. Very much."
"We'll miss you too, Niles," Grace sniffed, before letting go. Maggie also released him, and they stood back to he could pick up his belongings. He then headed for the door, but was stopped by Brighton clearing his throat.
The boy put his hand out for Niles to shake, "Take care of yourself, Niles."
Niles took it, and smiled, "I will, Master Brighton."
He let go of the boy's hand, and again turned towards the door. Fran had opened it, and was waiting for him there. As he came up the step, she pulled him into a tight hug, which he returned.
"Call me when you've found a place, okay?" feeling him nod against her shoulder, she pulled away, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek and resting her hands on his shoulders to look him in the face. "This isn't over."
"I had a feeling you might say that," he couldn't help but smirk a little, despite the heavy weight he felt inside.
"Yeah, because it's true," there was a pause, and she patted his arm gently and sighed. "I suppose ya better get going."
Niles nodded silently, took one last look around at the family – even glancing momentarily into the back, at the closed doors to the office – and turned to head out. He stepped over the threshold, passed through the entryway, and made his way onto the step outside.
It was done gently, but he didn't think he'd ever heard a louder, more echoing sound than that of the front door closing.
It took all the willpower in the world to not look back.
It took more than that to not turn tail and run back to his former employer, begging forgiveness. He'd done it before. It would be so easy to do it again. And they were friends, really; Mr. Sheffield wouldn't just cast a friend out of his life, especially not a lifelong friend.
But then he remembered the words "not a part of this family", and images of the two of them growing up together, to university, to the first Sheffield wedding, to the births of the children, all the way to the present day, were gone.
No. Maxwell Sheffield had gone too far this time. And if the years they'd spent together meant nothing to him, then Niles was going to be damn sure that they didn't affect him, either. He'd still keep in contact with Fran, of course, and maybe ask about the children now and again, but that was it.
He picked up his case, drew in a breath to quell the stinging sensation in his chest, and stepped out onto the pavement. There was a momentary pause, and the former butler blinked.
What now?
He looked up and down the road. No taxis. He'd have to walk to get one, but…where did he want it to take him?
A place to stay; that was probably the best place to begin. He started walking.