(V)

C.C. groaned and slammed her fist down on the alarm clock. She hadn't been up this early since…well, since last week when she stayed up until 6 am drinking to her heart's content. She looked out her window and saw that the sun was just starting to rise. The morning sky was grey with the remains twilight and rather gloomy. To be frank, C.C. was feeling rather glum herself. Why am I feeling like this? I should be ecstatic. She sat up in bed and stretched her arms over her head, yawning. She rubbed her neck and leaned over to switch on her table lamp.

C.C. swung her legs over the side of the bed and sighed as she eyed herself in the mirror. She couldn't quite peg it, but, for some reason, she was feeling even lonelier than she normally did. She ran her fingers through her hair to tidy it up and scurried around to throw on a blouse and a pencil skirt. She brushed her teeth and dabbed on some perfume. She fastened the straps of her heels into place and checked her reflection again. Not bad. She snuggled a hat onto her head and grabbed her purse, ready to head out the door.

"Two lattes, please." C.C. told the woman at the counter.

She was quite old and had long greying hair that was braided into a single plait that ended with a magenta-colored ribbon. C.C. glanced at her nametag. Meryl, it read. There was a smiley face sharpied in at the end of her name that seemed to imitate the joyful gleam on the barista's face.

"$5.48." Meryl told her kindly.

C.C. handed the woman a ten and observed the bright pink flower that was nestled behind Meryl's ear. The hair around her temples was still the chestnut brown that her whole head had presumably been at one point. Meryl gave C.C. her change and dashed away to prepare the coffee. C.C. dumped the handful of dollars and coins into the tip jar and moved to the side to wait for the drinks. She watched Meryl move around in awe. The woman seemed so cheerful, buy why? She had obviously seen so many years, she was working at a coffee shop, and her looks had long faded, but she was pleasant and warm. C.C. grumbled to herself. Here she was, a near-middle aged woman with a successful career, and certainly not half-bad looking, but she had no happiness. She was bitter and cold compared to this wonderful woman behind the counter.

"Here you go, dear."

C.C. was joggled from her thoughts when Meryl placed two plastic coffee cups on the counter between them.

"Have a good one." She smiled at C.C.

The blonde offered her a quiet smile and, after shaking some cinnamon into her own latte, set out the door with the two beverages in tow.

"C.C.! What are you doing here?" Chandler looked up from his paperwork with an odd expression.

"I just thought I'd bring you some coffee." C.C. smiled lustrously at him; his shocked countenance hadn't disheartened her at all.

"Oh…thanks…" he returned with a soft smile.

Chandler looked over to his nearly full mug of coffee and then back up to the plastic cups in C.C.'s hands. She followed his gaze and sat his latte down on the desk near his pen.

"This one's hot." She clarified.

C.C. curled into one of the leather chairs on the other side of his desk. She tucked her feet beneath her and sipped her coffee.

"So how are you doing today?" she began.

"I'm…fine. I've only just started working." Chandler looked at her strangely checked the time on his wristwatch.

"Have you eaten?" C.C. took another sip of her latte, watching his pen scribble across the documents.

"Um, no…it's still so early." He answered her distractedly.

"Chandler!" she stood abruptly, "You need to eat breakfast!"

"C.C., I will. I'm just not hungry yet." He gave her another bizarre look and returned to his papers.

"If you say so," she returned to her seat, "I just don't want you to get sick."

"That's sweet of you, honey, but I'm fine."

The couple didn't talk much after that. C.C. asked him about dinner later, or maybe lunch, and he said he'd have to get back to her, for he was just so busy today. She stayed in the leather chair until she had finished her latte. Once she drained her cup, she stood and crossed the room to stand behind Chandler. She wrapped her arms around him from behind and planted a kiss on the side of his face. He turned to give her a soft and quick kiss on her lips and then turned back to his work. C.C. collected her purse and started to leave. She turned to look back at him when she reached the doorway. He hadn't given her a second glance. He was scribbling away and his latte was seemingly untouched. C.C. pushed through the glass door and left.

Niles was scrubbing furiously at the casserole dish. It was caked with food and there was no way that it could go in the dishwasher like that. He didn't completely mind it though. The scouring was helping him vent his frustration. He grumbled to himself as he noisily scraped the dish with a clump of steel wool. I can't believe she hasn't come in yet. I bet she's called it sick so she can spend all day in bed with that – that – ARGH! He was about to smash the glass dish over his skull when Maxwell strolled in.

"Niles, when you're finished with that I need you to run this over to C.C. at her penthouse. She called in sick a few hours ago, and I told her I could handle everything, but I forgot about these contracts that she needs to review for tomorrow." His boss explained and sat the pile of papers on the counter.

"But sir, can't you read those contracts?" Niles looked at him expectantly.

"Now, old man, we know how I overlook those important details. I'm just no good." He gave his friend a smile and clapped him on the back. "Make sure she gets this script as well."

"Fine. I'll do it, but I won't like it." he grumbled.

Niles grunted and dried his hands. He piled the literature into his arms and set off to deliver them to Miss Babcock. He was extremely anxious on the ride over, as he was expecting to see a disheveled blonde-headed woman with a half-naked man in the background. It made him sick to his stomach when he thought of the two together like that. As soon as I leave, they'll be in each other's arms again, kissing and moaning, their fingers caressing skin. She'll probably be wearing his button-down shirt and boxers or something. He shuddered. Niles shook his head violently in a desperate attempt to clear his mind. and kept driving.

C.C. lifted her head from her hands when she heard the sharp knocking of the door. She stood from her spot on the floor and glanced at her watch. Maybe it's Chandler surprising me for lunch! She hastily wiped her wet eyes and ran her fingers through her hair to fix it up. She unlocked the door and let it swing open. She gasped when she found Niles in her doorway. She was shocked to see him and was quite unable to form a sentence, nor could she tear her eyes away from his. Finally, she spoke.

"What the hell are you doing here, Belvedere? I called in sick!" she snapped at him.

Niles' eyes wandered along her troubled expression. Heavy lines were indented in her forehead, and her eyes were glistening. Her cheeks, eyes, and lips were very red, and one of her cheeks seemed to have red marks on it, like she had just wiped her face with the sleeve of her sweater.

"I said - what are you doing here, Merry Maid?" She growled and crossed her arms, lowering her eyes so he couldn't examine her further.

"Mr. Sheffield sent me by to give you these contracts. It's urgent that you read over them for tomorrow."

"I see. Just… put them on the table over there." C.C. moved out of the way and pointed in the direction of her sitting room.

Niles brushed past her and inhaled the fragrant scent of her perfume. The spicy, yet sweet smell tickled his nostrils. He placed the pile on her coffee table. C.C. followed him and lifted the script that rested on top of the contracts.

"What's this?" she asked him.

"Don't you know? That's called a script. I heard that's what the entire musical theatre business is based around." he smirked at the blonde.

C.C. looked at him for a few moments and then laughed. It was a breath of fresh air. It felt strange to her - like she hadn't laughed in ages, and maybe she hadn't. She really had no idea how much time had passed since she had been lying on the floor of her bedroom, sobbing. It was very unlike her to be weeping like that, but she couldn't help it. She seemed to be having mixed emotions about everything. She didn't know how to feel about Chandler. He was acting so detached and distant, and then there was that dream about Niles…

"Miss Babcock, if I may ask, are you alright?"

C.C. peered up at him. His crystal blue eyes were filled with concern. She fumbled around with her thoughts before finally answering him.

"I'm fine. Now, get out!"

Niles wordlessly saw himself out, leaving C.C. standing in her flat with a death grip on the script. Her knuckles were turning a ghostly white and all she wanted to do was fade away.