Chapter 7

Niles knew Miss Babcock was at the door before even hearing her car door being slammed shut with a kick.

He also knew for a fact that she was angry.

No, wait... scratch that. She was furious.

He couldn't exactly understand what had caused her to be so upset; the noise in her head was too loud, and her thoughts might as well be screams. However, despite the mental racket, he was able to pick up the source of her anger: Chandler Graves.

And he couldn't be happier.

"Who stepped on your tail?" he asked when he opened the door for her, trying to lighten the mood.

She answered him with a glare, and shook her head as she marched past him, "Don't even bother, Niles!"

He blinked a few times, stunned, before closing the front door. That was odd, she usually couldn't wait to fling an insult back at him! Had things really gone that badly?

"How was your lunch?" he tried asking, watching as she wrestled off her coat.

"I don't want to talk about it," she snapped, struggling to get the last part of her arms out of the damned thing. "I don't want to talk about lunch, or Chandler, or...or anything!"

She flung her arms around, hurt and angry and sad all at once. It got her coat to the floor, but it also left her there crying. The angry adrenaline rush was clearly wearing off, and in her tiredness things were starting to come through more. Even without the mind-reading, he could tell it hadn't gone well. But with it, he knew...the lunch had gone wrong...he could make out phrases like "he didn't even defend me" and "disgusting pig men"...

And the rest was pain, rage, humiliation...hunger? Had she not eaten, at this lunch? He needed to find out what had happened!

He approached her delicately, picking up her coat as he did, "Miss Babcock...are you sure you don't want to talk? Perhaps over...something to drink?"

He couldn't ask if she was hungry. He knew she'd just come from lunch, it would look suspicious.

After a few moments of hesitation, she nodded a slightly reluctant yes. She didn't look at him as she nodded, but he was happy that she hadn't refused his offer. He still could hear the prominent thoughts of hunger, and he desperately wanted to satiate said hunger, but how could he bring up the topic?

Maybe he could tempt her...

"Would you like to come with me to the kitchen? I haven't eaten yet, so I'll have my lunch as we speak," he said.

"I want food too," he heard her think, and she actually looked up at him. "Maybe I can ask him...? Well, we are going to talk about what happened anyway, so maybe I could... No. Yes. Ugh! What the hell is wrong with me?! This is Niles... I must be desperate to actually agree to talk to him. This whole change of hearts sounds like utter bullshit, but maybe..."

"I can give you some dessert if you want," he said, interrupting her thoughts. "I suppose you've already had lunch, but if you want something sweet-"

"Actually," she cut across him, "I... I'm rather hungry. I... I didn't really eat."

Didn't eat? She was at lunch! Why didn't she eat?

"Why?" he asked, now worried. "What happened?"

C.C. clutched at her stomach to stop it from growling. Niles listened as she debated with herself.

"Should I tell him? What good will come of it if I do? He can't exactly do anything! Chandler didn't do anything illegal by ordering that salad for me...but God, I wish I'd called that waiter back and asked for the carbonara...!"

She was almost in tears thinking about it. And Niles was burning up inside.

So, her cad of a boyfriend had very nearly made her go without food! A salad, and probably a small one at that, was not a lunch! He could probably safely bet on Chandler not sticking to that dietary regime, either; nor anyone else at the table. He'd get the details of that later, though. For the moment, C.C. needed food and someone to listen to her.

Shaking his head, he guided her to the kitchen, "You know what? Tell me when you're ready. Eating comes first. Will some carbonara be alright? I'm rather in the mood for it..."

He heard her thoughts pick up at that, her mind practically begging to say yes. But he had to admire how calm and collected she was, despite how much she'd clearly gone through not an hour ago.

"Yes, please," she eventually said, allowing him to take her through to the kitchen.

He pulled out a chair for her at the table, and sat her with a glass of orange juice to keep her sugar levels up while he cooked.

As he did, he listened to her thoughts, as if listening to the radio.

"It smells so much better than the Rainbow Room's food already..."

"I can't believe Chandler thought it would actually be a surprise to take me there! How long has he been living in New York? Asshole."

Niles had to bite back a grin at that, and nearly jumped into action at the last thing he heard.

"I showed him with the bread, though. I'll eat bread if I want...I could actually go for some now, with some good butter..."

He had to make his response to that appear natural, so he left it a few moments before looking up at her.

"Would you care for some garlic bread, Miss Babcock?" he asked. "We have some in the freezer, it won't take too long to cook..."

He'd made her jump with his offer, and then he heard her considering it.

And then, a thought he'd never imagined.

"He just offered me exactly what I wanted...! How many men are there like him in the world...?"

He felt his heart pounding. Even if she hadn't said it aloud, she was thinking it and it made him want to sing. She thought he was one of a kind, practically, and that was like the icing on the most delicious cake of finding out how upset she was with Chandler.

"Yes, please..." she was staring at him. It felt more intense than any other time they'd ever locked eyes. "Thank you, Niles..."

He was so caught up in how she looked and what she was saying that he nearly burned the bacon pieces, but he quickly returned to them, turning the heat down so that he could go and get the bread. He was going to make this the most amazing meal she'd ever had. Anything she asked for, he'd get, and nothing would be too much trouble.

It hit him just how deeply in love he was to act this way. He'd been in love before, but it had never been like this. It had never felt like this. She was different, he'd known that since the very first moment he'd seen her - she infuriated him, there was no doubt about that, but she also seeped into his thoughts; inhabited them. She'd become an ever-present presence in his mind. One that he simply couldn't be without.

For years he'd channelled his feelings for her through countless pranks and zingers, but now that wasn't satisfying anymore. He wanted more with her. But most of all, he wanted her to be happy.

She deserved to be happy.

Now that she was (a little bit) calmer than when she'd arrived, her thoughts were easier to read, and slowly, a picture of what had happened at lunch started to emerge. He fit together her ideas like a puzzle, and he truly disliked what he discovered.

Those pigs!

How dare they do such a thing! How dare they say such things about women! What kind of person thought that about someone else?!

No wonder she'd been so upset when she'd come in!

And that Chandler! He was in for it if he came to the mansion, that was for sure. He'd punch the cad's lights out without a second's hesitation!

No one did that to her. No one.

And no one ever would again, if he had anything to say about it.

But first, he had to finish her lunch. A real lunch, full of all the things she'd missed out on at the Rainbow Room.

The bread was done soon after that, and the pasta followed. He made two generous plates of it, and slid one onto the table in front of her.

"Here we are." he declared, "One plate of carbonara, as ordered."

He laid his own plate on the place mat opposite to C.C. and went to look for one of Mr Sheffield's bottle of wines - he had so many; he could very well share a few. Besides, it wasn't like he was going to find out, was he?

He poured two glasses of red wine and brought some shredded cheese to add to the pasta, should she want to do so.

"There we are," he said, taking a seat and directing a small smile in C.C.'s direction. "I hope you like it, Miss Babcock."

The producer simply couldn't help her smile, either, "You know, I think that blow to your head really messed you up," she said, catching a few strands of spaghetti in her fork. "You've never been this nice to me before."

Niles shrugged. "This has nothing to do with that blow to my head," he lied - in many ways, this was a consequence of the blow to his head. "I just so happen to have experienced a change of hearts."

She huffed out a laugh, and dug her fork more firmly into her food. A change of heart - it was so unlike either one of them!

And yet...and yet...

"A change of hearts," she echoed softly, keeping her eyes on her lunch. This was lunch, not the travesty she'd just come from. "I suppose I'll have to take your word for it. I mean, this carbonara doesn't have liquid soap in it or anything, so I'll hold you to it being true."

Niles didn't have to read her mind to know she was being playful. It was close to how they'd usually talk to one another, but there was something...more familiar about it.

A familiarity he liked, and was going to reciprocate.

He pretended to get up from his chair, "Well, if you'd wanted that little bit of extra flavour, I could-"

Barking out a laugh, C.C. reached over and pulled him back into his seat.

"Sit down! This might be the best thing you've ever made; you might get a new reputation as a not completely useless butler."

"I don't recall hearing any complaints from you about the quality of my food," he said, ripping a bit of garlic bread, "Your critique was mainly focused on my coffee."

"That's because you put dishwasher water in it." she replied with a smirk, "Sneaky bastard..."

Niles staged an overdramatic bow, and C.C. used the brief instant when he wasn't looking up to steal his garlic bread. She chewed on it with gusto, delighting on Niles' affected look of offence.

"I should have known better…" he said, "Wild raccoons have a tendency to steal."

"You snooze, you lose, Dust Buster," replied the producer, grinning cheekily, "And this garlic bread is too damn good. Where did you get it?"

"In a place that to you is uncharted territory - the supermarket," he jested, a smirk slowly making its way across his features. "You know, that huge place where common people buy food?"

C.C. looked unamused, "I am well aware of what a supermarket is, Niles. You're just envious because I don't have to go to one."

Of course she didn't - she probably had people bring her food to her, as part of a delivery service. But he'd be the only one who was allowed to cook for her like that. And he couldn't help it, but it made him feel special.

She was currently thinking about where he was going to take the conversation. It was like a game of chess, with one player discussing potential moves aloud without realising.

"Well, I'm sure the general public appreciates your commitment to keeping the peace, and not committing indecent acts by showing up somewhere outside," he replied with a sip of his wine.

C.C. smirked at him over the top of her own glass, "I should pour my drink over your head!"

Niles raised an eyebrow, "After everything I've done for you today?"

He heard her mind flick back to the hours before. She realised just how much he had actually done for her that day, compared to all those other men...

Not men, really. "Pigs" was a good word. Or maybe even a few names with their roots in Anglo-Saxon.

She was staring at her plate, not taking her eyes from the place where there had been a pile of pasta, and now only a few lone strands of spaghetti soaked in sauce remained.

"You have done a lot for me today," she mumbled. "Made it more bearable, after being stuck in the 1950s for part of the afternoon."

He knew what she meant already. But she was also opening up, and he wasn't going to let an opportunity to talk like this pass him by!

"1950s?" he queried. "What happened?"

C.C. sighed heavily, put down her fork, and looked at him.

"Chandler happened. And so did his father, and uncle, and godfather, and far too many of his colleagues," she could feel herself crying a little again. "They were all pigs!"

He could believe that. But making her feel better would require talking.

"Pigs?" he asked, innocently. He deserved an Oscar for this performance – being the yenta he was, pretending not to know something didn't come naturally to him. He would even settle for a BAFTA award. "What did they do?

Of course he knew what had happened - he'd heard it in her mind, after all - but it wasn't like he could say this to her. There was no way to explain it rationally, and he'd rather keep his powers a secret from her. He didn't know how she'd react to them, especially when their... relationship? Friendship?... was so recent.

He hated to hear and see just how uncomfortable this had made her. She was a strong woman, and to her any show of what she perceived as weakness felt... wrong. Like wearing clothes that don't fit you. It was unlike her.

"Well... they... they made comments," C.C. began, averting her eyes.

"Comments such as...?" he encouraged her.

"Comments like... saying that women belong in the kitchen." she explained, "It bugged me, but I thought they'd move on from the topic. They didn't. Instead, the conversation revolved around how women ought to be pretty and submissive. They wouldn't let me talk, they'd make fun of our intelligence, and then Chandler... he..."

C.C. had to stop to press her hands to her eyes - she hated when she cried.

"He insulted my sister by calling her fat, and when I tried to eat bread he said I shouldn't and made me feel like I... like I needed to lose weight. Like I didn't deserve to eat it. Same with the food, he wouldn't let me order, he chose my food - salad."

That bastard. How dare he make her feel that way! How dare he control her to the point where she felt insecure! How dare he let his little friends say things which had no place in their day and age! But she was starting to cry, and that came before any raging he did. She hated being vulnerable, he knew that, but sometimes she needed to be. And if he could be the person she was vulnerable in front of, then he'd consider it a privilege.

So, ever so gently, he reached out and put his hand on her arm.

"It's alright, Miss Babcock; you're safe here," he said. "No one is going to make you feel that way here. Especially not some oily little tick who isn't even man enough to defend another person, or let them make their own choices."

C.C. coughed out a laugh, wiping her eyes and lowering her hands. He was right - she was amongst friends.

With a friend, who didn't want her to feel bad for something Chandler had done.

He was right. Chandler was an oily little tick. Not worthy of her time or attention!

"There now," he smiled, and patted her arm. "It's...much nicer for me to see you smiling, if I'm honest."

It really was. And knowing he'd made her laugh by insulting Chandler gave him an incentive to do it more often! He'd make her happy. For every sad moment the other man had caused, he'd give her a reason to smile.

And right now, the smile she had on her face was worth more than anything in the entire world.

Silence swelled in the room then, their food all but forgotten on their plates as they looked into the eyes of the other. There weren't thoughts to be heard or words to be said - they just needed to stare into the blue depths they shared.

But the questions didn't take long to pop up in C.C.'s head (which wasn't surprising).

"What is going on with me... us... Niles...?" she thought, still not daring to look away. She also thought just how nice his hand on her arm felt, and how his scent was oddly pleasant. Why hadn't she noticed it before?

"We are enemies... aren't we? No... I can't honestly say we are. Not anymore. But what are we?! We aren't friends... we've been foes for twenty years – maybe he's been an enemy for so long that he's turned into a sort of friend…"

Her mental commotion also awoke doubts in Niles's heart. He knew they weren't friends - if anything, they were frenemies - and he had no interest in being her friend. He wanted more.

And, by God, he wanted to kiss her!

"You know, I don't think you've looked at me like this before..." she muttered, speaking the first words in what felt like an eternity.

"I have," he replied, "but I was careful not to let you see."

That surprised her; he could hear the confusion it created in her head. But as she began to rationalise it to herself, coming down from her original panic, she came to the conclusion that maybe it was true.

Maybe he had been looking, and she'd just never noticed.

Kind of like how she was starting to notice some things about him...

"His eyes are much nicer than Chandler's. They're kinder..."

Niles thought he could feel his own heart in his mouth. She was really thinking about him, trying to see him in a different light!

"It suits his hair, too. God, it looks soft...just like his lips..."

Niles wasn't sure where she would have said next. He tried to open his mouth to say something else, only for C.C. to cut him off by crashing her lips against his.

There were no thoughts to be read there. There was only emotion, and the bodily senses.

Senses like touch, which came in handy when he went to cup her cheek and she reciprocated by sliding her nails towards his hairline, angling her head for better access.

Senses like taste, which were explored when she slid her tongue out of her mouth to glide it across his lower lip, moaning in delight when Niles took the invitation in his head and her tongue in his mouth.

Senses like sight, which came in when C.C.'s mind suddenly made a sound which could only be suitably described as a row of exclamation marks, and she pulled away with her eyes wide open and staring.

Staring in horror.

Niles looked at her in confusion, but her mind answered what her lips could not.

"Oh, God - what did I just do?!"

Clearly, made the biggest mistake of her life, by the way she said that to herself! What had he been thinking, letting it go on?!

Well, he knew his head had taken a backseat in this and let his heart take the wheel for a while, but that was no excuse!

He had to apologise. Make it up to her - explain that he had only been doing what he'd thought she wanted!

She was getting up from her chair. Her thoughts were becoming too messy to distinguish clearly from one another, almost like she was trying to think of literally anything other than what had just happened but failing.

The end result was like listening to an old-fashioned dial radio that someone kept fiddling with.

But if he could help, it might solve everything. Not that he even knew where he'd even begin!

Well, getting up would be a good start. He followed her from the table, but she was almost at the door.

"Miss Babcock, please wait!" he was very close to pleading. "I-I can explain...!"

Could he? There was nothing rational to be said about the only explanation he had!

C.C. paused, no doubt from the help of one of the warring factions in her head that was saying she should hear him out. It made her hesitate in reaching for the door handle. But it was temporary. The rest of the thoughts took over again, sent a jolt of fear through her, and she shook her head, blinking hard.

"I... have to go...I'm sorry!"

She fled the room, the door slamming behind her, and Niles was left alone with a bunch of tangled thoughts and the ghost of her lips still on his own.


AN: Sorry for the delay! These past weeks have been rather stressful. But here you are; a new chapter! We hope you enjoy it and please let us know what you think!