CHAPTER 3

It was close to midnight when CC woke up, her head in pain. She grabbed the aspirin and the huge glass of water and helped herself to the medicine and the drink. She had some memories of the earlier part of the day, but she mostly felt hurt. She knew she had probably lost her job. She knew that Niles had been trying to be helpful, but how little that meant compared to all the shit he had pulled on her over the years… It felt like he had offered her a flower after throwing her under a truck and driving over her repeatedly, with all his friends joining for the ride and laughing at her as they ran her over. What a sick image, she thought, maybe I should stop drinking - and she chuckled to herself. She really could do with a drink, now that all she was left with was a head-splitting headache, and the same heart-splitting loneliness and disappointment that had grown so overwhelming in the last few days that she could only keep them at bay by being out of it for as much time as she possibly could.

She stumbled to the living room, the cold air slapping her face and sobering her up further as one window had been left open for air. Everything was tidy - thank you, Servant, she thought - but as she reached unsuccessfully for her unfinished bottle of rum and found all her other booze missing, that quickly turned into fuck you, Servant.

He wanted her sober and clean, like that, cold turkey? No no no no Mister, that is not how you do it. She wanted a drink more than anything right then. She lit up a cigarette - thankfully he had left those – well, there were a few packets in her purse and he wouldn't rummage in her purse - it wasn't as good but it was helping calm her down. She had an idea: there was no booze in her apartment, but this was New York, there must be booze in the rest of New York, the city doesn't even sleep, it must do something to pass the time! She knew exactly what to do and where to go.

She took a quick shower and went to her wardrobe. She felt like she needed something outrageous and she found it: an old dress, of a deep emerald green, that would have not looked out of place in Nanny Fine's wardrobe. It was slightly tight now that she had put on so much weight, but she didn't care anymore. She was tired of feeling invisible in her proper designer clothes, she needed to be looked at tonight. The dress was really quite short, a bit tight on her stomach, and way tighter than it should have been on top, highlighting her curves possibly a bit too much. Perfect, she thought, as she adjusted her make-up and hair. She slipped on a pair of black high heels and a long black coat, and off she was in the deep dark November night.

She didn't hail a cab immediately. She walked a few minutes to a 24-hour shop where she could easily buy a bottle of wine. She couldn't stay sober (or, well, just half-drunk as the previous binge wasn't out of her system yet) for much longer. The shopkeepers probably saw that every night, lonely, rich drunks in need of a fix.

She walked a few more blocks while drinking and smoking, feeling strangely free. A small part of her knew that this was simply self-destruction, but the fact that no one cared if she really did destroy herself made her feel free. And it's not like they hadn't been trying to destroy her anyway, she had just joined the game they had started, and she was taking it further. She grinned at that thought. Like with every challenge, she needed to be better at it than anybody else, and control the game before it controlled her (the fact that she was hardly in control didn't occur to her).

Finally she took a cab and travelled to the club she had been planning to reach. It was after 1am so she knew things would be in full swing at a place like that. She had only been there a handful of times, years back, but she knew it was still going. It was seedy, and a place where desperate, or simply bored, rich people like her met equally desperate or just slightly crazy people who were far from rich, and who often sold a range of chemical alterations - or simply sold themselves.

The loud music inside the club hit her like a punch and made her still slightly painful head scream at her to go away, but she was there now, grateful that she had just had some wine as it would be unbearable to be there while sober. She quickly went to the bar and ordered a drink, while she started to feel some eyes on her. Turns out, skimpy dresses really do work! She cast her best snobbish, intimidating look around - she wasn't going to be an easy prey! She flirted with a few men, they all bought her drinks, but she got tired of them (or they moved on to women who seemed readier to please them), until she got chatting at the bar with a tall, good-looking and well-dressed guy. They shared drinks and a dance until she found herself in his embrace. Finally. It was nice to be touched and to feel wanted and… perhaps protected in someone's arms. And yet, something felt amiss. It wasn't quite the same… It didn't feel like… Niles! Niles?! Like in a flashback, she suddenly remembered how gentle he had been when he had helped her after she passed out in the bathroom, and the realisation hit her like a slap… she didn't miss just any warmth, she missed his warmth. What the hell? Was she so drunk that she was delirious now?

Without realising, she had jumped back from the man (John? Jonathan? Jordan? She had already forgotten), who simply pulled her back to him a little too forcefully. She didn't like that but she let it go, as she still wanted to feel someone's arms around her, even if it didn't feel perfect like with… well, with someone who didn't value her enough to be a friend anyway. Though he had tried to come to her rescue earlier that day… Oh god, the confusion. Was her head spinning in confusion, or was it the alcohol?

JohnJonathanJordan pulled her closer and started to kiss her, pushing his tongue into her mouth. He wasn't a very good kisser, but she thought that, in the situation, he would do. However, when after a few minutes he started pushing her dress up and grabbing at her ass, she jumped back. He grabbed her by the waist and pulled her close again, trying to force his mouth on hers again, and she pushed away.

"Hey! What the hell do you think you're doing?!"

"Oh come on baby, you know you want it!"

"I'm no one's baby, and I want what, you swine?"

"You want to be fucked hard like the high-end slut you are!"

SLAP!
Her open hand met his face, heavily.

"What the fuck?" He shouted, wide-eyed, as a small crowd gathered. "You come here, dressed like that, completely drunk, and you are not after an easy fuck? Or am I not good enough for you?"

"I choose who and when to...fuck, as you put it, and right now this is not what or who I want!" She spat out, loud words coupled with her famous glare.

A doorman was already pushing the guy away as he cursed.

CC turned away, noticing how a lot of the men now looked at her with lust but wouldn't go near her since she seemed to have made it clear that she wasn't going to take anyone home. She suddenly felt even lonelier. For having been touched and kissed by some random guy she couldn't care less about, and for needing the attention and the touch of these losers, who, he was right, weren't good enough for her. They weren't him… Oh, crap. Why would her mind go there again? She stumbled to the bar and sat there, ordering another drink, then another, then another… After a certain point, everything went dark anyway.

The sudden ringing of the phone woke Niles up. He jumped up and cursed out loud, looking at the clock: 4:45am… who the hell rang at this time? He thought of Miss Babcock and her desperate message… He thought of an emergency… He even put the two thoughts together and felt his head spin. It was definitely the main house phone, not his own line.

"Sheffield Residence?"

"Eh...uhm… Mister Sheffield?" A male voice asked shyly but loudly, as there was a lot of noise in the background.

"I'm his staff," Niles replied.

The man on the other side of the phone sounded confused but thought it okay to proceed;

"Okay, uh, this number is listed as emergency contact of a Miss CC Babcock."

NIles' heart sank. "Yes, she also...works for Mr Sheffield. Is she okay?"

"More or less but...uhm… I think she needs to be picked up. I work for this club, The Midnight Moon, and she is here...passed out… we thought of calling her a taxi but I don't think she can...look after herself right now and we couldn't find her address but we found this emergency contact. And well, we close in an hour, so…"

Niles nodded to himself. It wasn't the first time it happened, but she was usually conscious. He asked the man on the phone for directions to the club, he took a very quick shower to finish waking up before driving, put some clothes on and rushed out.

He found Maxwell and Fran in the corridor, seemingly waiting for him. He thought about lying about what the phone call was about and where he was going, but what for? After dinner the previous night, he had spoken with Fran about where he had been for most of the afternoon, and about the state of Miss Babcock. Mr Sheffield was probably still angry at CC, but maybe he would understand that it was a state of great distress that had made her spiral into proper alcoholism (further down the slope than her usual light alcoholism…).

Niles sighed and explained to the question marks printed on his boss' and his friend's faces:

"The call was about Miss Babcock. I'm going to pick her up. She is in some seedy club, passed out drunk."

He rubbed his face as he said this, it sounded so absurd. He could see the horror in Maxwell's face and how he was preparing for a rant, but Fran was quicker to speak:

"Oh Niles, I am starting to really worry about her! She must be really not coping. She needs some help. Why don't you take her here instead of her penthouse? She can be looked after!"

Niles was about to protest. Part of Miss Babcock's distress was due to the engagement, so surely being near the couple she was jealous of wasn't going to do her any good? He was sure Mr Sheffield would not agree to it anyway.

Mr Sheffield looked stern as he gravely said: "Okay. As long as I don't have to deal with her and you two take responsibility. I still think what she did, turning up drunk to work, was completely out of line, but it is clear she is going through something. And anyway she shouldn't be left alone for the rest of tonight...well...morning. You can take her back here, Niles, but do not ask for anything more."

Fran squeezed Maxwell's hand and smiled at him, probably thinking how generous her fiancé was proving to be. Niles still wasn't too sure it was a great idea, but he had to hurry out.

The music was less loud than at peak partying hour, and still it was quite offensive to Niles' ears. The sweet sticky smell of alcohol was mixed with that of sweat. Only a few people were left besides the staff clearing glasses, most were sitting at the tables around the dance floor. A lot of them were couples making out, or worse, touching each other, uncaring of being in public. Niles noticed how most of the men were about his age, and a lot of the women looked under 30. He was certain that at least some of them were professionals. He finally located Miss Babcock slumped on a sofa. Her face was well visible, or he wouldn't have recognised her, in that dress - there was a lot less dress than skin, and he wasn't used to seeing her that way. She was half-lying, hugging her small purse, her legs down like she had been sitting before falling to her side. Her coat was near her, looking like the wardrobe had closed and the staff had dumped the remaining items on the remaining people.

He kneeled down to be in front of her face and called her while shaking her gently. She didn't move and he had no water to throw at her. He pushed her a bit more strongly then tried to get her to stand up - she half-opened her eyes but always slumped back down. He sighed and threw her coat over her before picking her up in his arms. She wasn't quite as heavy as he had expected, even with all his fat jokes and even after she had put on weight. Still, he had to carry her out and to the car, which thankfully wasn't far away. As he placed her gently on the passenger seat, a sudden thought flashed in his mind, about how he would have liked to see her in a dress like that in better circumstances. He shook the thought away and rushed to the driving seat.

As he parked just in front of the Sheffield mansion, it was well after 6am by then, the mansion door opened to reveal Fran in one of her fluffy robes, coming to his help. She closed the car as Niles carried CC out, and opened doors for him as he still carried the blond in his arms up to the guest room. On the stairs, CC opened her eyes but closed them straight away as things were spinning a bit too much - but after that, she started holding on to Niles' shoulders, tightly.

Fran had prepared the guest room, including fresh towels, pyjamas made up of leggings and a large jumper that she had borrowed from Maggie, and a large glass of water.

"Thanks, Miss Fine."

"It's nothing, Niles. You must be so worried, I know you care about her even if and when you pretend not to."

Niles blushed. "Maybe I do. But I think I hurt her a lot recently, without even thinking about it. And she is struggling to cope with your engagement…"

"I know, sweetie," Fran nodded, "but what can we do… she needs to learn to cope… in a healthy way. Now get out of here and let me help her to bed."

Niles left, and Fran turned towards CC who was lying on her side on the bed. She touched her arm gently and turned her fully to the front. CC opened her eyes slightly and looked confused.

"Nanny Fine?"

"Ssh sweetie, yes it's me, I am helping you wear these pyjamas and go to bed." Fran explained, but had no answer when the blonde closed her eyes again, looking in pain. Fran remembered the glass of water and helped CC drink a big part of it. Then she started peeling the dress off her. Halfway through the operation, CC kicked and threw her arms out, hissing "I told you I don't want to, you pervert!"

"Sssh… Miss Babcock, it's me, Fran, remember? Just lift up, yes, the dress is off now - if you let me slide this jumper on you and now these leggings… all right, you look comfy and ready for a good...morning's sleep."