Thanks again for your reviews. :) I'm really glad you're enjoying the story. Now here's the next chapter. :) Some of the dialogue was taken from the show, but I tried to keep it to a minimum. Leave me some feedback, please! :)
Chapter 7:
The next morning C.C. was approaching the Sheffield mansion with unsurprisingly much trepidation considering the events of the previous night. She felt foreign in her fancy designer clothes as it was always the case when her mind hadn't quite switched from Claire to C.C. yet. But on top of it all was something that made her feel much worse than she would've felt, had she been suffering from a simple hangover. As a matter of fact, she was yearning for the days when a simple hangover had made her feel so rotten. At least then she'd known that it would pass within the day. This situation, however, she had a feeling would continue to make her feel queasy for a much longer time.
Slowly she pushed her hesitation aside and lifted her hand to ring the doorbell. Each second that passed added to her growing tension. Finally, the man she'd been dreading to see opened the door for her and let her in, a mischievous glint in his eyes that made her ball her fist.
"Miss Babcock," he greeted, carefully pronouncing every syllable.
"Niles," she replied, dragging out the "I" in a long, warning growl.
"You seem a little on edge this morning," he continued innocently, helping her out of her coat "did something happen?"
She let her eyes fall closed for a second, praying for patience she didn't have.
"No, everything is splendid." She turned around to face him "But you're acting uncharacteristically chivalrous today…can't be the good influence of a woman, can it? You haven't been seeing anyone lately…apart from that little one night stand with Nanny Mueller, of course. Did she teach you those manners?"
With an overwhelming sense of satisfaction she watched him clenching his jaw.
"I'm not quite sure what you're implying, Miss Babcock," he finally replied, the unnerving smirk returning to his face "You don't seem to be yourself this morning."
"Alright, cut the crap, Rochester." She finally snapped, ignoring the expression of glee that washed over his face "Stop hinting at things, if you have something to say to me then say it now, directly to my face!"
She could tell that he was having difficulties suppressing a chuckle. "I don't know what you mean, Miss Babcock. But I can't stand around and chat any longer, some of us have work to get on with." He indicated a little mock bow and then left her alone in the foyer.
"Alright, you lost that exchange, Babcock." Her mind provided her with unwanted commentary and emitting a growl of impatience she too left the foyer and made her way to the office.
"Morning Maxwell," she greeted her business partner and set her briefcase down on the green love seat, starting to fish out documents a second later.
Hearing nothing in return and confused by the silence, she turned around to look at the man in question, something she usually tried to avoid, lest it bring up some of her feelings again.
"Maxwell?" she frowned.
Eventually and very slowly he turned around, a dreamy smile on his face and a rose in his breast pocket that she'd never noticed there before."Oh hello C.C., I didn't hear you come in."
"Well, perhaps you should get your hearing checked then," she snapped back a little "as I just said hello to you 5 minutes ago."
"Yes well," he frowned at her tone "I'm sorry, I guess my mind was just somewhere else."
"Mmh," she hummed and turned back around to the green love seat, putting her briefcase on the floor "and would that somewhere else have anything to do with that ridiculous plastic rose in your breast pocket?"
"It's not plastic!" he sounded almost offended, but then his tone softened "It's real…just like her…"
And when he released a dreamy sigh, C.C. wanted to be sick. "Who gave this to you?" she asked, sitting down rigidly.
"Chloe Simpson…"
"As in the modelling agency?" she frowned, feeling the queasy sensation take over her entire body.
"Yes, that's her." He sighed again "We'll be going away to Southampton soon."
"You'll be leaving?" she exclaimed, ignoring how much her voice resembled a screech "You can't possibly be serious. We've got all this work piling up."
"Well you can handle that for a few days, can't you? An intelligent woman like yourself?"
"Don't flatter me now, Maxwell, or I swear I'm going to lose it!" she snapped.
He frowned, taken aback a bit. "Whatever is the matter, C.C.? You're not jealous…are you?"
She merely rolled her eyes and focused on her documents, unwilling to answer.
"C.C.," he chuckled comradely in such a way that it made her want to punch him "Chloe and I might want to take a little walk down memory lane but you and I will always be business partners."
She heaved a deep sigh in order to control the growing urge to leap across the desk and wipe that smile off his face and dryly replied: "Groovy."
After that even Maxwell seemed to catch on to the fact that it would be better if he dropped the subject and he hurriedly opened one of his books and started scanning the pages, pretending to work. Or at least that's what C.C. surmised, as she couldn't really see him being able to focus long enough on something other than Chloe to get actual work done.
Around noon Maxwell scarpered off to have lunch "with an old friend". But C.C., aware that courage wasn't exactly her business partner's forte, knew who he was actually meeting. With another deep sigh – this time born out of resignation – she put the script she'd been reading aside and stood up to stretch. Reading scripts to see which one they could use for their next production was usually her favourite part of the job, but today she found herself unable to focus. According to the script she'd reached page 25, but even that probably wasn't true as she couldn't really remember anything that had happened. She pinched the bridge of her nose and came to stand in front of the window, watching the steady line of cabs trickling through the street. Eventually her hand moved to massage her tense neck and her thoughts wandered back to Maxwell. For the first time she was wondering what on earth she'd seen in him to begin with. She wasn't sure if she'd been rejected enough to finally take off her love goggles or if she was just coming to her senses. Whatever the reason, she was finally failing to see what had been so appealing about Maxwell before. He was a coward, he couldn't stand his ground, and sometimes he could actually almost be boring.
"He doesn't thrill you," Claire whispered but she shook her head to get rid of her.
"Fighting off invisible flies?" the butler's voice, laced with sarcasm, drifted across the room.
"Can you never just say what you want?" she asked, turning around to face him "Do you always have to make your grand entrance accompanied by some snarky remark?"
To her annoyance he chuckled amused. "My God, Babcock. You really are on edge today, aren't you? What happened to the laid-back woman I met at the bar yesterday? Oh wait, I must be confusing you with someone else."
"Alright, that's it." She snapped and firmly walked over to him "We will stop playing that "I saw you yesterday so I'll keep hinting at it but pretending it wasn't really you" game."
He lifted his hands in a sign of peace but kept on laughing.
"I mean it, Niles, cut it out." She snapped again and grabbed him roughly by his shirt "Yes, it was me in the pub and yes I dress like that and go by Claire in there. So what? What's so funny about that? I have my reasons, reasons which you will never know about so please to God just stop acting like a little boy who's managed to steal a cookie."
His laughter slowly subsided and he broke into a frown instead. "Why so snappy today, Babcock? What's gotten in you?"
"Alright," she exhaled deeply, pinching the bridge of her nose again "I know that we're anything but friends but just for today can't we call a truce? Just for today please just leave me alone? Just one day and one night, that's all I'm asking."
He was momentarily at a loss for words, confronted by the resignation and sadness he heard in her voice and saw in her eyes. It was making him highly uncomfortable. She wasn't supposed to be like this. She was supposed to be strong and snappy and undefeatable. His frown grew deeper as he grew more and more uncomfortable. Why was this so disconcerting to him?
"Alright," he finally nodded "a truce, for today and tonight. Tomorrow I'll show no mercy again, Babcock." And with that he left.
In the evening C.C. found herself at the pub again, pondering Niles' puzzling behaviour. It wasn't that she wasn't grateful that he had agreed to the truce so willingly. Nonetheless, she couldn't help but wonder what was behind it all. Niles couldn't possibly have a heart, could he?
"I told you before not to bring her in here, ok?"
She looked up with a frown, scanning the bar to see who Tom was so heatedly addressing, only to find him staring at her. "What?"
"I told you before, Claire," he repeated "stop bringing your working self in here. This is supposed to be the place where you can be happy and stop worrying."
C.C. eyed him wordlessly and nodded slowly. Ever since their little discussion that had revealed his love for a certain nameless socialite he'd been grumpy and in a bad mood. She understood why, of course, but it was starting to get on her nerves now too.
"I'm sorry, Tom," she replied, definitely sounding annoyed "but there are certain things that have been on my mind that don't just magically disappear when I walk through the door."
"Like what?" he crossed his arms impatiently.
"Like the butler…it's hard to explain, especially if you keep staring at me like that. But I was having a rough day today and he was actually almost…nice? I don't know…he just stopped pestering me when I asked him to."
"That's your great problem? That's what's bothering you so much?" Tom asked, eyeing her incredulously.
"Yes," she nodded slowly.
"My God!" and he threw his hands up dramatically "Someone is being nice to you and you even treat that with suspicion. You have a way of creating problems for yourself, Claire."
"Well, I'm sorry if I'm not happy enough for you." She snapped, slamming her glass down on the counter "But with that attitude of yours it's not surprising that your lover left you."
"Get out." Tom growled, it wasn't a request.
"My pleasure."
The next day C.C. was truly feeling alone. Maxwell had left half-way through work to go and spend the afternoon and evening with Chloe yet again and her fight with Tom had ensured that she wouldn't be returning to the pub in the foreseeable future. She had no-one to go to. Drawn in by their voices, C.C. entered the kitchen, eyeing Niles and Fran wearily, half envying them for their friendship.
"I don't know why I bother coming over anymore." She voiced quietly and glanced at Niles.
"Tomorrow I'll show no mercy again, Babcock." That's what he had said. And yet him and Fran were looking at her with a mixture of pity and understanding that was making her a little bit uneasy.
"Aren't you going to say anything obnoxious?" she asked, just waiting for an insult.
"I wouldn't kick a dog when she's done." He replied haughtily, but his eyes were twinkling with amusement.
To her surprise that brought a little smile to her face and she was beginning to wonder if Tom had been right, after all. Perhaps her suspicions had been unfounded. Perhaps Niles wasn't really so bad?
