[A/N: I dedicate this chapter to two people: 1. KB91, the queen of the fandom whose reviews make me cry with happiness, and 2. my best friend who ruins my life on the regular.]

Chapter 5

You're beggin' for the truth, so I'm sayin' it to you
I've been saving your place and what good does it do?
Now I'm just a basket case

As Niles hurried down the sterile halls of Mount Sinai, brushing rain drops off his shoulders, he reflected on the last two weeks. Babcock had accused him of ignoring her for the past week but she'd been lenient in that. He'd been avoiding her for at least two weeks.

"Which room is CC Babcock in?" Niles asked the nurse on the first floor.

"Are you family?"

"Yes," Niles responded automatically.

"Do you have proof of that?" she asked with a knowing smile.

Niles didn't believe his fifteen-year obsession would count as proof and so he stood silently, trying to look as sympathetic as possible.

"The doctor's in with her right now. You can sit in the family waiting room over there," she told him, pointing to a room a little further down the hallway. "When he's done, I'll ask her if she'd like any visitors. What's your name?"

"Niles," he replied before walking off to sit in the waiting room. The stiff, wool-covered chairs offered little comfort and he sat with his elbows on his knees.

He had no idea what had happened. He recounted the events in his head, watching the images slip by like a film reel. Mr. Sheffield had answered the phone, asked a few alarmed questions, and then hurriedly left the manse, calling out something about Miss Babcock and asking Niles to stay at home to wait for the children's return from school. If a longer twenty minutes had ever passed in his life, Niles didn't know. He had placed a few unanswered calls to the theater. The children arrived at their usual time, and Fran had thankfully arrived a few minutes later.

Unintentionally mimicking his boss's behavior from earlier, Niles had called out a jumble of words to Miss Fine about Miss Babcock, the theater, and Mr. Sheffield before hurrying off in the town car. He drove to the theater, momentarily relieved when he saw CC's car parked in front of it but unnerved by the chaos inside. Niles had only seen the theater that crazed once before when CC had been there, and she had made two grown men cry that day before she'd sorted it all out.

As he'd suspected, CC wasn't there. A tearful chorus girl who had been unfortunate enough to see it happen shakily relayed some of the details to Niles, and he gathered that one of the lighting fixtures had come loose from the ceiling and swung down onto CC's head. She'd lost consciousness for a few moments before awaking, and from the way the girl's voice quaked, CC had not been happy that they'd called an ambulance.

Niles had spared a few seconds to pat the girl's shoulder consolingly and asking what hospital they'd taken her to before hurrying back to the car and driving off.

He looked up hopefully as a shadow darkened the doorway, but his shoulders deflated upon seeing it was just a passing aide.

It felt as though so much had happened between their showdown in the kitchen and seeing her today. He'd told himself that sleeping with Molly and choosing to be in a relationship with her would change things with Babcock, but a foolish part of him had hoped that it wouldn't have to change that much. But that part of him was, more than anything, foolish, and Niles had been wrong.

He saw her smile earlier that day when he asked if she was off to leave her coven, and it had tugged at his heart in a way that Molly hadn't quite managed to do yet. The rest of him, the non-foolish self, knew what it was. He missed her.

That was a dangerous thing to feel, an even more dangerous thing to admit, because Niles was not that type of man. He had a girlfriend. He had a lover.

But—Niles closed his eyes and lowered his forehead into his palms, for there was always a but—there were things he couldn't necessarily help feeling or acknowledging. Some things forced themselves through any sort of self-imposed barriers Niles tried to put in place. One of those things just happened to be CC's face.

He was with Molly, focusing on Molly, becoming intimate with Molly, when he looked into her eyes. They were a lovely brown (brown, brown…why couldn't he think of anything poetic for brown?) but it was in those eyes that Niles felt a jolt of something that felt an awful lot like regret shoot through him.

Yes, Niles granted, he was foolish and a romantic and had a flair for the dramatic. But he was not naïve. He understood that relationships were built on more than passion, that passion, in fact, provided a very rocky foundation for anything solid. Molly gave him companionship, kindness, humor, and a wealth of things in common. So in the overall scheme of life, a lack of intense passion mattered very little.

But one of those things crept back to him in these moments, and these blonde memories contained fits of intense passion that Niles had never experienced before. He felt more in a thirty-second kiss with Babcock than he'd felt with his past five lovers combined. Hell, even the heat of his jealousy over her kiss with the French tutor rivaled most of his past romps.

He had to sort this out. He enjoyed his relationship with Molly. So what if he had been—no. He couldn't let the ghost of Babcock ruin it for him—which boiled down to not letting himself ruin it.

"Mr. Niles? She said you can come visit her now," the nurse from the desk said in the doorway, giving him a kind smile. "She's all right," she added, mistaking his worried expression—which only made Niles feel guiltier, as he should of course have been more worried for Babcock's health.

"Thank you," Niles said, following the nurse out of the waiting room and following her instructions to CC's room.

It was a temporary room in emergency care, meant only to hold patients before they went up to the floors appropriate to their medical needs, and in this way, it felt even more foreboding. There were no faux-comforting decorations or artwork, just sterilized equipment and IV stands waiting to be used. And despite the very annoyed expression on her face, Niles still had to work quite hard to calm himself at the sight of her laying in a hospital bed.

"One of the choreographers finally attack you?" Niles asked in lieu of a greeting.

CC smirked. "No, but there's a lighting contractor who has a hell of a lawsuit coming his way."

Niles nodded, stepping further into the room and standing next to her bed. He saw that her left hand sat atop the white sheet and Niles stuffed his hands into his pockets. "Are you ok?"

"I'm fine," she said, rolling her eyes. "A light fixture hits your head and you black out for a few seconds and everyone freaks out."

"Well, they're theater people, they're quite dramatic," Niles replied wryly. He wouldn't hold her hand, no, but he couldn't resist pulling his hand from his pocket, reaching out, and brushing her hair back. She winced and hissed as his fingers encountered the lump there. "Is this where it hit you?"

"No, Niles, I've always had a bulge on the side of my skull."

"I wouldn't doubt it."

"You're the troll here, not me."

"I'll ask again, are you ok?" he repeated, gingerly running his fingertips over the lump. It didn't appear to have bled.

She pulled her head away from his touch, grimacing at the movement, and sat up straight again. "I'm fine."

"Are you sure you aren't the British one here, Babcock?" Niles asked irritably. "Speaking of—where's Mr. Sheffield?"

"He left."

"He left you here?" he asked, his voice more severe than he'd intended. Her eyes widened at him, her expression inscrutable.

"I told him to. As I have informed you, I'm fine," CC said slowly, as though he were the one with a concussion.

"Christ, that man is unbelievable," Niles seethed, shaking his head.

"Niles, I'm—"

"Yes, yes, I know, you're fine," Niles spat out, crossing his arms over his chest. "Do you think he'd leave if it were Miss Fine sitting here?" He shook his head again, more forcefully this time.

"Yeah, I get it, Niles, he prefers the scantily-clad brunette," CC grumbled, leaning her head against the mattress and closing her eyes. "You'll take any opportunity to rub it in my face."

Niles turned to her quickly. "What? No, that's not what I meant—"

"Seems everyone prefers the skinny brunettes around here," she groused.

Niles sighed. He didn't ask how she knew Molly had brown hair. "I meant because he's your friend, Miss Babcock."

CC snorted. "Yeah, ok."

He didn't know what she was derisive about—that he hadn't meant to tease her or that Maxwell was her friend—but, again, he chose not to question it. "Do you have a concussion?"

"No, the doctor doesn't think so," she told him. "I passed the concussion test, anyway."

"Must be nice to have finally passed a test, eh?"

"Please," she said, glancing at him haughtily. "I passed almost every test I've ever taken."

"Almost?" Niles pointed out, his eyes twinkling.

"Shut up, Niles," she said with a light laugh.

"You know I can't," he told her, to which she nodded grudgingly. "If you're fine, why can't you leave?"

"The doctor gave me some drivel about a follow-up test and waiting a bit to see if any concussion symptoms surface," CC told him, rolling her eyes. "He ignored me when I asked for a second opinion. Isn't that illegal? Look it up, Niles."

Niles spread his palms to show their emptiness. "Sure, let me just grab my medical law handbook."

CC made a sound of frustration. "You know they probably just want to charge my insurance even more money."

"Yes, probably."

"Well, isn't that illegal?"

"Miss Babcock, do I give off the impression that I'm some sort of legal expert?"

CC glared at him. "Pardon me for having a conversation."

"You're pardoned."

"All right, well, now that you've satisfied your curiosity that I'm ok, much to your chagrin, I'm sure, you can go now," she told him.

Niles swatted at her hand (soft like a petal) and pulled the only chair in the room up next to the bed. "Nah, Babcock, I'll stay."

"Why?" she asked, and though he was currently looking at a pain chart on the wall, he swore he heard a smile in her voice.

"Someone has to drive you back to your car," he pointed out.

"You're just hoping there's a plug you can pull out," CC said.

Niles widened his eyes excitedly and glanced around the room. "Do you think there is?"

CC laughed his favorite laugh (a musical symphony) and shook her head carefully. "If you weren't my only ride, I'd hate you."

So many ifs, Niles realized as he sat back in the chair and waited with her for the doctor. I would hate you so much if…if only….

After a long while of companionable silence and light bickering, the doctor returned. He asked CC several questions, shined a pen light in her eyes a couple of times, and made her swear that if any unusual symptoms occurred, she would call her doctor right away. Niles had never seen CC so compliant before.

Then, just as suddenly, their strange haven created in the hospital room broke and they were back outside in the dingy parking garage. He climbed into the town car, she slid into the passenger's seat, and they drove off to the theater.

Niles parked the car in the spot in front of hers, climbing out to open her door. "You aren't going back to work, are you?" he asked concernedly.

CC glanced around and sighed. "No, it looks like everyone scattered when I left."

"They seemed concerned about you at the theater," he told her, but the half-smile she gave him said she didn't believe that. "What are your plans for the evening, then?"

She looked at him oddly, but maybe just a shaft of sunlight from between the buildings distorted the look on her face. "Nothing. Don't you have plans with—"

"Molly!" Niles exclaimed. "Sorry, Babcock, I…" Leaving the sentence unfinished, Niles ran back to the town car, jumped in, and tried to pretend like he didn't see CC watching him drive off in the rearview mirror.