Chapter 3

C.C. Babcock found herself walking down Park Avenue at a brisk pace, her black Chanel pumps clacking against the sidewalk, which now lay buried underneath a crisp, white mantle of snow. In between the index and middle finger of her left hand, she held a Marlborough cigarette. In her right one, she carried a nearly empty cup of coffee with her name scribbled on its side. She'd had to repeat it twice to the teenage Starbucks employee.

Little puffs of smoke rose into the air as she took draws of her cigarette. She'd already smoked half of it, so she lightly tapped the filter with her thumb and flicked off the ash on the tip, letting it fall to the ground.

A mouthful of coffee followed.

The intake of caffeine and nicotine during these early hours was an almost sacred daily ritual for C.C.. It consisted in taking pleasantly long draws of nicotine-filled smoke between gulps of strong, black coffee. Smoking her first cigarette of the day was the part she enjoyed the most. There were no words to describe the pleasure she felt whenever her lungs were wrapped by the addictive, warm smoke. Maybe the very particularity of this very first cigarette, was that she smoked it not as a way to relieve stress, but rather for the pleasure of it. It was the only cigarette that she smoked unhurriedly. The only one she truly and really enjoyed.

It brought a twisted relief of sorts – a peacefulness that allowed her to harbour the hope of a tranquil day at work.

Needless to say, given her line of work, that hope was, more often than not, short lived.

Especially when going to work entailed having to see and be in the same space as Niles.

She hadn't been able to stop thinking about what had happened that day, back when she'd been confined to that damn contraption. It was so weird, how he'd thought exactly what she was after in the fridge that day. And then later, with the coffee, it was...almost like he knew she'd throw it on the floor because of the salt!

But that was ridiculous. How could he know, really? He could guess because they knew each other so well - better than she really cared to admit - but that was all. He might have been a servant, but even he was capable of educated guesses.

That was all it was. A guess. And then she'd gotten her own back, and that had been great.

The best part of the day, really.

Maybe she could further her lead that day, too. She was nearing the mansion, and apart from getting work done after her first coffee and cigarette, there was nothing to perk up the day quite like making the butler suffer. And that's exactly what she was hoping to do. The way Maxwell had put him down and made him apologise still made her smile to herself.

The happy thought of a repeat floated around in her mind as she made her way up the steps to the house, and rang the doorbell. Another thing that was making her smile to herself, however, were the memories from the previous night. If there was one good thing about her having gone out with Nanny Fine, was having met Chandler Graves.

The man was truly wonderful!

He was a gentleman, funny, smart, incredibly intelligent and he had a more than impressive surname and bank account. They had discovered he and Stewart had worked together a few years ago. It was a match made in heaven! He'd invited her to Masa, New York's best and most expensive restaurant, and then... well... she'd reciprocated by inviting him over to her apartment for a nightcap.

Surprisingly enough (but not unpleasant in the slightest), despite his enchanting and manly demeanour – the macho air about him – he truly had a penchant for her being in control of (and leading during) their lovemaking.

She smiled at that.

God, how she loved to be in charge! And he loved to be… beneath her, she thought, smiling roguishly.

She was suddenly startled out of her spicy memories by the door being practically yanked open.

"Hello, hello, Niles," she greeted the man who'd opened the door, sweeping past him into the hallway and removing her bag and coat. All the while, she kept in her mind thoughts about the previous night - how they'd laughed, and drank, and had more fun than was probably even legal-

But they were interrupted by the loud slamming of the front door, causing her to start.

She finished taking her coat off as she turned to face the direction of the noise. The butler was still there, having turned away from the front door to glare at her.

It was obvious he'd slammed it, too. But why? It was far less playful than their usual banter. What had she done already to earn this kind of treatment?

Her brow creased, confused, "What's the matter, Hazel? Somebody hid your scrub brush this morning?"

He approached her in a menacing fashion, eyes burning with anger.

"I think you know," he said, before stalking off towards the kitchen.

Now, just what the hell was that supposed to mean?

Was he in an awful mood because of the pay cut? After all Maxwell had given him his check yesterday, and there was a substantial amount of money missing. She'd made sure that it was that way. And, although unlikely and a little bit over the top, that could be a reason for his anger. He was frugal and usually fussed about losing money, but she'd never seen such a strong negative reaction from him.

Was he mad at her for some other reason?

Given their daily bickering, it was hard to pin point the reason why he was so angry at her. Well... she supposed she had to let him be. It wasn't like she cared, really...

She had a long day at work before her; she couldn't lose time pondering over Niles' mood.

With that in mind, she made her way to the dining room, her stomach growling with hunger. She could eat a horse! The only thing she couldn't have, however, was anything with chocolate sauce on it. She and Chandler had... made good use of the chocolate sauce tub she'd had in her fridge yesterday, and the thought of having any more chocolate made her sick to her stomach.

She greeted the other members of the family as she came in, and took her usual seat to wait for her breakfast. Niles had gone through into the kitchen, obviously to fetch her plate. He was gone a few minutes and that irritated her a little, considering the fact that all the Sheffields and Nanny Fine were busy digging into their waffles right in front of her.

But soon he returned, bringing her breakfast. She craned her neck a little to take a look...

And her heart sank as he slid the plate onto the table, straight in front of her.

Her waffle was absolutely covered in chocolate sauce!

Her face fell. She couldn't eat it. She was starving and she was stuck with food she couldn't eat!

He was on his way back to the kitchen already, not even waiting for any kind of reaction. Well, obviously he wouldn't have any kind of reaction - he didn't know. But he had to stick around to do something about it!

"Niles, I can't eat this!" she called after him.

He froze, and turned, apparently confused.

"Why ever not, Miss Babcock?" he asked, something about his words sounding clipped. "Did something happen to put you off chocolate sauce? An excess of it, perhaps?"

Involuntarily, C.C. flushed red, memories of the previous night popping into her mind. She couldn't possibly tell the family about what had transpired last night! But she had to find a decent way to justify her desire for a waffle without anything resembling chocolate on top of it.

"My... uh... stomach is unwell-"

"Did you eat too many innocent victims last night?" the butler (who, again, sounded somewhat clipped) made his way over and swiftly removed the plate from in front of her.

For a second, they both stared into each other's eyes, and C.C. realised there was something incredibly off about him. It was as if he were extremely angry, and she couldn't understand why.

"I cannot imagine how terrifying it must be for your preys to find themselves being pinned down by your big claws," he added, spite dripping from his every word.

"Niles!" Maxwell cried out, clearly appalled by his servant's behaviour. "How rude could you possibly be in one morning, Old Man? If C.C. doesn't want the chocolate sauce, she doesn't have to have it!"

Niles' eyes left her, and went to his boss. He was still seething.

"Doesn't have to have it, does she?" he asked, barely keeping his rage at bay. "As long as that's what you think, sir."

He then marched himself and the plate full of waffle into the kitchen. Had the door not been on a swinging hinge it would have slammed.

Everyone's eyes followed him, some filled with more concern than others.

"What's gotten into him this morning?" Fran asked from across the table, nursing her cup of coffee.

Maxwell sighed, casting his eyes back to his paper, "Who knows? He's been acting strange ever since he hit his head, those weeks ago. I think he might need another opinion, from a different doctor."

Yeah, maybe the butler wasn't as well as he kept on claiming. Stuff like this just seemed to prove it. Maxwell was probably right. That was the only explanation for all the weird crap going on around Niles.

He didn't come back out with another waffle, at any rate. Maxwell was going to go in and tell him to bring something out, but as nice as that would have been, it was cutting very close to their work time. So, promising her employer that she'd make sure to eat something that day, she finished downing the coffee which had been set out ready for her when she'd come in and set off for the office.

Chandler had said he'd come pick her up and take her to lunch, anyway. She'd make up for her lack of a breakfast at the restaurant. And she'd spend it in much better male company than the ghoul who kept coming in to haunt the room every once in a while, once they'd settled down to work.

It was almost like he was restless, or anxious, as well as angry.

Not that she cared or anything. There was plenty to do before she got to leave for a little while. And that time wouldn't go quick...

Especially when she had to go over at least twenty contracts. The new play she and Maxwell were working on was making her sick with worry, and she had spent too many sleepless nights fine-tuning details. She couldn't wait until all this was over; they were only three weeks away from the opening night.

The end was in sight.

Had she not been so immersed in her job, she would have noticed the many dirty looks Niles was giving her. He had brought Maxwell some tea and biscuits, but he'd never offered anything to Miss Babcock. He couldn't stand being civil to her.

And, unbeknownst to her, he was already planning his revenge.

"All right, I am done for the morning," C.C. announced when she eventually finished reading (and revising) the last contract. She looked down at her wristwatch - 11:58 a.m.. Chandler would be there any moment from then.

"Will this lunch of yours last for long?" asked Maxwell, looking up from his work.

"I don't know, Maxwell. But I'll probably be back by three, I believe," C.C. said, getting to her feet. She needed to go to the powder room and do a quick makeup touch-up. She nearly darted out of the room, purse in hand and open lipstick in the other, but when her right heel made contact with the hallway floor outside the office, it gave way beneath her and she felt face down to the floor. The newly waxed floor, at that.

She'd gone down with a shout of surprise and landed with a painful thud, but it was mostly just the shock that made her feel it. She was already getting to her feet by the time Niles came out of the office, sauntering past like nothing was wrong.

"Careful, Miss Babcock; the floor is slippery," he said, briefly turning to eye her up and down.

For some reason he smirked, too, before walking off. Well, of course he did - he'd waxed the floor that much on purpose! Growling under her breath, C.C. began to dust herself off. Luckily the wax hadn't smeared onto her pants, and her shirt hadn't been anywhere near the floor...

But...

Oh God.

Her lipstick! It had been pressed right into her shirt!

Her immediate reaction was to try and wipe it out, but that only spread the stain, like blood after a wound. It was too near the middle of the blouse to be hidden by a jacket. Oh, who was she kidding? Even if she did hide it, it still wouldn't come out in laundry! It would be ruined!

The butler. He'd done this!

But it was too late to get any kind of quick revenge. The doorbell had just rung, and it was obvious who'd be waiting on the other side.

C.C. felt like a deer caught in the headlights, and panic wrapped itself around her like a vine - what should she do?! They couldn't go out for lunch when she looked like this! She needed to change! Maybe Nanny Fine could provide her with a suitable replacement...

Oh, who was she kidding?!

"Looks like the dog walker is here," Niles said in a sing song voice as he made a bee line for the door, almost as if he were eager for Chandler to see her like this.

"Don't you dare open that do-"

The door was open before C.C. had finished her sentence, and Chandler's eyes found her almost immediately. She found herself wishing the Earth would swallow her whole as Chandler's eyes widened slightly.

God, the butler was so dead…

"Chandler!" C.C. wheezed, not being able to move from where she was, but realising she had to say something to her boyfriend, "I... I..."

"What happened to you, Doll?" he asked, obviously concerned. He went to her, actually, and wound his arm around her waist.

"I... I fell," she said, "The floor... it was slippery and I fell on my open lipstick..."

"Oh, no matter!" said the man cheerfully, "I guess we'll make a quick stop at 5th Avenue before going for lunch. I'll take you shopping."

She didn't know if it was the promise in those words or the look on Niles' face at Chandler making them, but C.C. suddenly didn't care at all about the stain, or the mark said stain had caused on her shirt by waxing the floor.

She was far too happy for that.

Chandler went to the closet, fetched her coat and her bag, and handed her the bag while he put her coat around her shoulders.

"They'll hold our reservation while we get you sorted," he said, guiding her to the door.

"Okay," she replied, starting to grin. She specifically aimed it at the butler they were currently walking past, letting him know quite clearly that his plan had failed.

God, victory was sweet.

She managed one cheeky wave and a smirk as she and Chandler stepped through the front door.

"Have fun waxing the floor, Niles!"

The only answer she got from him, was the door being slammed behind her.