Chapter 7
I don't say much and it'll stay that way
You got a steel train touch and I'm just a track you lay
So I'll stay right here underneath you
I'm just a basket case and that's what we do
Niles lay back in the chaise lounge in the solarium, watching the spring raindrops patter against the plate glass. He had never had a more confusing, taxing two weeks in his life, and for the first time, he was grateful that Mr. Sheffield had asked him to work late that evening. It gave him an opportunity to be alone to sort out his thoughts after everyone else had gone to sleep and provided him with an excuse to avoid Molly for the night.
He didn't anticipate much success in this, as his introspection had been utterly worthless since the disastrous dinner with Molly at the Sheffield's. But there was an urgency pressing upon him now, an urgency that couldn't be ignored and dealt with five years later as Niles was accustomed to doing.
If he had only managed to maintain his even keel, if the struggle to feign insouciance for Babcock had not been so damn hard, none of this would have happened.
(A lie. Niles cursed his dramatic streak. This would have happened eventually. But Niles had to deal with it now, and instead of dealing with it like a reasonable, mature man, it was easier and more fun to imagine if he had never had to deal with it at all.)
But Babcock had sauntered into the foyer with a button undone in her blouse—he'd noticed, of course he'd noticed—and she'd waltzed into the dining room and he knew, at that moment he absolutely knew, that having Molly over for dinner was a mistake.
The wrathful goddess had been on her most antagonistic behavior that night. She'd been polite to Molly, he gave her full credit for that, but she took everything out on him. Snide comments, chippy glances, easy lobs over the plate that she threw fully intending for him to knock them out of the park…
…but he couldn't. After a disastrous attempt to lightly tease Molly once, after which the poor girl looked near tears, Niles realized that version of himself wouldn't do. It was just as well. It wasn't the first signal he'd gotten in his life that he needed to grow up and relate to other people in a civil fashion.
He'd done well. He'd managed to ignore her in a way he'd never been able to in the past fifteen years. Then he'd brought the dessert out, a dessert he'd put some serious effort into, and he saw the way she rolled her eyes at him and he couldn't help himself. It was all her fault.
(Another lie. His favorite thing to do was to blame Babcock. But this time, it wasn't her fault. In a sick way, he appreciated the way she'd upped her game. All too often throughout the years, she'd lost her temper and Niles's heart soared even if his pants sometimes tightened and he'd won easily. But that night, CC was on a level all her own. She'd simply looked him in the eye and spoken to him like a lowly, stupid butler. It was what he hated most about his occupation and what he'd hated most about CC when he'd first met her. He'd never been grateful enough, he realized, for how quickly she'd dropped that tone of voice and adopted something sharper yet more playful with him. He regretted that now. Still, it was an expert move on her part. And he'd snapped.)
Oh, he'd snapped. The insults he'd hurled at her weren't particularly vicious or even that clever, but God help him if he didn't feel something that could only be described as sexual relief when they'd started bickering again. It had been one of their longest dry spells.
Then it turned sexual, as it usually did, and then CC pulled out her trump card. He hadn't thought she'd ever use it. There had been something of an unspoken agreement between them to keep their more embarrassing moments unspoken. She'd never told anyone that she had caught him dancing in his underwear, and he'd never told anyone that he'd made her cluck like a chicken. And even though she hadn't dragged their entire conversation out in front of everyone, she had used it against him. To hurt him. Maybe to point out that even with his girlfriend in the room, he still paid attention to her, not to Molly. Niles wasn't sure.
Her intentions hardly mattered. What mattered was that after carefully keeping Molly away from the mess of his private life in the Sheffield mansion, she had suddenly borne witness to the whole sloppy affair. And her questions had come, as Niles figured they would.
They'd arrived back at her apartment, and although she'd said nice things about Max and Fran, the drive to her place had been relatively quiet. When Molly had put her jacket and coat away, she'd turned to Niles, her face set.
"She practically marked her territory all over you, Niles," she told him.
"Babcock?" Niles asked with a light laugh. "No. No, I can see how you'd think that, with her dog-like features, but—"
"And what's that? Why do you insult her like that?" Molly asked.
"I'm sure you heard how she spoke to me," Niles pointed out, stepping forward and grabbing her hand.
Molly slid it away. She wasn't angry—she wasn't quick to anger, like some women Niles knew—but he could tell she was concerned.
Niles sighed. "I know it's odd. That's how Babcock and I relate to each other. We always have."
"Always?" Molly echoed. Niles nodded. "So you two were never…"
Niles had laughed, a surprisingly hearty laugh given the hellish evening he'd just been through. "No. Never."
And that could have been the end of it if only Babcock hadn't loused everything up again.
(Yes, yes, another lie. Niles shook his head, his hair crinkling against the canvas covering. Perhaps he ought to see a therapist about this tendency to dramatize and outright lie to himself. Could it have been the end of it? No. He didn't see how this situation could possibly end. Except now…)
The next day, CC had strolled into the mansion, her nose so high in the air she'd drown if it rained. She'd informed Niles that her blouse was ruined and Niles had shrugged her off, offering trite apologies and a promise to replace it.
"You could save for a month and still not afford it," CC told him. He thought he saw a little something in her eyes, something that might look like an apology in another woman's eyes, but he ignored it. The idea that after one encounter with the two of them, Molly questioned the nature of their relationship had unnerved Niles.
Niles only gave her a tepid smile and walked back to the kitchen. Which, he saw now, was a mistake.
He knew some people fancied CC to be a very complicated woman, but he didn't buy it. At least, he thought he understood her, as well as she could be. Half of her determination to flirt with Maxwell came from the very fact that he ignored it. CC Babcock could not tolerate being ignored.
And even though he still paid attention to her in the normal sense, the civil sense, that wasn't what she wanted from him. She wanted his usual attention: combative, offensive, and wholly aware of her.
He wanted to give that attention to her, but he understood that he shouldn't. Molly was his girlfriend. Molly was the woman with whom he'd spent the night the previous evening. Molly was the one who didn't have any trouble telling Niles how she felt about him.
This put Niles in a quandary: the more he ignored CC, the more determined she became to provoke him. But it would be fine, Niles told himself, since Molly wasn't there. CC could pull whatever she wanted and get it out of her system.
Then Molly showed up for lunch that day, and it had taken all of Niles's self-restraint not to groan upon seeing her. She'd walked into the house and rather brazenly kissed him. He'd basked in it for a few moments before remembering that he was a butler, a butler on duty, and settled his hands on Molly's waist as he pulled away. Her eyes traveled from over his shoulder to his eyes, and she smiled.
"Hi!" she said happily.
Niles smiled at her, often finding her cheerfulness infectious. "Hello. What brings you all the way over here?"
"Prep finished early for the event tonight, so I have time for a long lunch. Care to join me?" She twined her fingers with his and stepped closer to him.
"I'd love to, I would, but I have to prepare lunch here," Niles said, giving her his exaggerated pout.
She grinned at it and shrugged. "I could help you prepare it and then we could eat here?"
"Sure," Niles agreed because he'd love the company and certainly at least part of him was masochistic enough to risk CC and Molly running into each other again.
He didn't think he'd have to wait too long for CC to come into the kitchen; after they'd mutually ignored each other for a few weeks, CC now seemed determined to irritate him at any free moment.
His intuition proved correct. CC stepped into the kitchen, an empty mug dangling from her finger. After looking surprised to see two people instead of one, her eyes narrowed into the look he knew she reserved for dress rehearsals.
"Hi, CC," Molly greeted cheerfully.
CC plastered a fake smile on her face. It slid into a smirk when she looked at Niles. "Good morning, Molly. Niles."
"Can I get you anything, Miss Babcock?" Niles asked. Whatever perverse sense of excitement he'd had about this showdown disappeared at the look on CC's face. He'd thought that he might enjoy seeing her jealous but found that he did not.
"No, I found I've lost my appetite," CC replied sweetly, grabbing the coffee pot and pouring more into her mug.
"Well, that's…" Niles trailed off as CC leaned against the counter and tucked her suit jacket behind her hand on her waist, revealing a slinky, silky blouse with no small expanse of décolletage (smooth pearly porcelain). He cleared his throat. "Good."
"So you won't be joining us for lunch?" Molly asked.
"No, I won't."
"That's a shame," Molly said, her voice even.
"Yes, we might actually have leftovers now," Niles remarked.
CC looked at Niles, her eyes alight with amusement. "I wouldn't want to ruin another blouse, you see."
"I understand your hesitation. Your girth seems to be straining the fabric of this one already," Niles muttered.
He saw Molly glance at him but then felt her lean against him. "Clumsy," she commented with a small smile.
"Something like that," CC agreed.
Niles returned to chopping the cucumber and nearly stiffened uncomfortably when he felt Molly's warm hand on the back of his neck. But he turned to her and smiled before resuming his chopping. For one of the first times in a very long time, he had no desire to look at CC.
"Well, have fun with lunch, then," he heard CC said brusquely before the sound of her heels on the floor retreated.
"At least she wasn't as horrible as last night," Molly commented, tilting her cutting board so that the chopped vegetables slid into the large salad bowl.
"Horrible?" Niles repeated carefully. He might be a stupid man unaccustomed to making a relationship work, but even he understood that he had to treat carefully right now.
"She antagonized you all night, Niles," Molly reminded him.
Niles chuckled. "I've antagonized her for fifteen years," he replied. "What shall we do with the fish?" She looked askance at his change of subject but went along with it.
After lunch passed, a little dully for Niles's tastes with Fran being quite subdued and Mr. Sheffield preoccupied with business, Molly returned to work and Niles felt fidgety. He thought about vacuuming the second floor—it desperately needed it—but decided to take tea into the office instead. He heated up the kettle, piled up the serving tray, and stepped into the office.
CC sat on the couch, vigorously annotating a dog-eared script in her hand. Niles set the tea tray down with a clatter, and still she didn't look up.
"Tea, Miss Babcock?" Niles asked after handing a full cup to Maxwell.
"Rewrites," she muttered to herself, crossing out an entire page and flipping furiously to the next. "A month before opening and rewrites." She wrote something with such gusto that Niles heard the paper tear underneath the pen; CC swore.
"Tea?" Niles repeated, a little louder. He glanced over at Mr. Sheffield and saw him poring over the same script—though his contained admittedly less writing.
"Of course, because that will be easy to stage," CC mumbled, curling out a large, dramatic question mark next to a set of stage directions. "Idiots…oh these idiots…"
Niles walked over to the green leather couch, a mug of steeping tea in his right hand. He tried not to look too closely down her blouse as he rested his hand gently on her shoulder. The tenseness he felt there made him want to gently massage her until she relaxed.
"What are you doing?" she snapped at him, yanking him out of his stupor.
"Do you want tea?" he asked, holding out the mug.
She took it from him carefully, but she still glared. "And that required touching me?"
"I tried to get your attention," Niles replied, rolling his eyes. "In any case, I should think you'd appreciate a man's touch, it's been so long."
"And if you were a man, perhaps I'd appreciate it," she tossed back.
Niles glared at her but silently marveled at how she could balance a script on her crossed legs and still write on it while holding a mug of tea aloft in her left hand.
"Is your girlfriend still here?" CC asked, and Niles hurriedly took his eyes off of her. He'd mistakenly thought that she'd gone back to working on the script and ignoring him.
"No, she went back to work."
"Hm. I guess she doesn't have everything in common with Nanny Fine, then," CC said, absentmindedly scratching a checkmark near a long monologue.
"What?" Niles asked, removing the teabag from Maxwell's mug and setting it on a saucer with a light slap.
"Your girlfriend. Mandy. She's a lot like Nanny Fine," CC explained, looking up from the script and blinking a few times, adjusting her eyes. "You Brits definitely have a type."
Niles blinked back at her, but for a different reason. "Molly isn't like Miss Fine." And Miss Fine certainly isn't my type, Niles wanted to say.
She laughed and shook her head, letting the script fall to the empty cushion beside her. "Please, Niles. Tiny nymph of a woman. Dark hair. Annoyingly cheerful."
"That—" –isn't my type, Niles almost said. But that would be dangerous to admit. "—isn't something I'd considered before. But I'd hardly say that Miss Fine is my type."
CC gulped her tea down far too fast. American, Niles figured. "I've seen you look at her. And I'm pretty sure Nanny Fine is most men's type." She stood, set her empty mug on Maxwell's desk, and walked out of the office.
Niles understood the invitation. It's what they'd always done, even if they hadn't so much lately. There was a large part of him that wanted to follow her, to ease the tension he'd felt in her shoulder, to somehow reassure her that he'd looked at her much more than he'd ever looked at Miss Fine, but how could he? How could Niles possibly do the things he wanted without being a complete arse? How could he even sit here and admit to himself that there were things he wanted that involved CC?
He vacuumed the entire second floor several times over and only reemerged on the first after she'd left for the day.
Then a week had passed in relative peace and Niles (stupidly, now, he realized) had even dared hope that this harmony might last. He forgot that the sweetness of peace is so great only because of its transience.
Fran planned a family s'more and movie night, a little reluctantly suggesting that Niles bring Molly along. He'd hesitated for more reasons than he cared to consider—one of which being the utter awkwardness of being a part of a family event while still being the butler to that family—but Fran's enthusiasm infected Maxwell enough to encourage him, too. CC turned down the invitation before Fran had even finished asking her to come, and Niles said a silent, grateful prayer.
Still, an overlap between CC's departure and Molly's arrival occurred and Niles's stomach flipped a little. He'd managed to stave off any more questions from Molly about CC, but the topic still hung in the air—or perhaps it was just that she very seldom left his mind.
Niles busied himself preparing a formidable tower of s'mores on a plate, secretly stashing a few he'd made with the good chocolate on the counter near the stove. The rest of them could have Hershey's. He took the plate into the living room, finding the family, Miss Fine, and Molly set up around the television. Setting the plate on the coffee table, he laughed when the entire plate disappeared almost at once.
"The movie hasn't even started yet," Niles pointed out.
"Which means you have time to make some more!" Fran said with a grin, graham cracker crumbs outlining her dark pink lipstick. The suggestion received such enthusiastic kudos that Niles waved them off, stepping around them back towards the kitchen.
"Want some help, sweetie?" Molly asked.
Niles smiled and brushed her hair back. "No, I've got it. I'll be back before the opening credits are through."
She returned his smile and settled back into the couch.
Back in the kitchen, Niles set rows of graham crackers, chocolate, and marshmallow stacks back on the cookie sheet and slid it back under the broiler in the oven. When he heard someone enter the kitchen, Niles kept an eye on the treat in the oven as he said, "I said I don't need any help."
"I've never been any help to you," CC's voice responded, and Niles couldn't help it: he beamed like the damn fool that he was.
"Exactly," he replied, and he turned around to catch CC's reluctant grin. "Did you change your mind about the movie night?"
CC shook her head. "No. I just came in to get a bottle of water before I leave."
Niles turned back to the oven and retrieved the cookie sheet just as the marshmallows started expanding and caramelizing. He set to work making sandwiches out of the separate elements and paused when he felt CC staring at him.
"What are those?" she asked.
"S'mores," Niles replied. At CC's blank look, Niles tsked. "I know why I hadn't heard of them before I moved to this country, but come on, Babcock. You're a shame to America."
"For several reasons, I'm sure," CC said, her lips curving into a smirk. "Come on, Hazel, dish. What are they?"
"Graham crackers, chocolate, marshmallows," Niles said, pointing out each layer as he named them. "Would you like to try one?"
"Sure," CC agreed indifferently, but Niles knew her well enough to spot the gleam in her eye, the same one he saw when he made his chocolate and peanut butter cake.
Niles grabbed one of the s'mores he'd been saving for himself near the stove and handed it to her, sliding a plate under it.
She bit into it, the graham cracker crumbling as the frothy marshmallow mixed with the melting chocolate. CC closed her eyes in rapture. "Oh my God, this is good."
Niles took a calming breath and tried to ignore the voice in his head reminding him that this was why he made her favorite treats. He added s'mores to his mental list. "Need a smoke, Babcock?"
"Nearly," she replied thickly, her mouth still half-full.
Her sticky fingers covered in crumbs, her mouth smeared with chocolate, Niles smiled affectionately at her child-like enthusiasm for the treat. "I'm glad you like it," he told her.
She finished the s'more, licking the remnants of it off of her fingers with little suctioning sounds, while Niles put together the s'mores for the rest of the family. He stepped across the island, the plate resting on his right palm, and stopped in front of her, laughing.
"What?" she asked.
He didn't want to tell her about the chocolate on her face—the woman had an irritating habit of using his clothes as a napkin—so he reached forward, wiping the smear off with his thumb. He accidentally (accidentally?) brushed it across her lips in an attempt to get all of the chocolate off, and Niles paused his movements when he saw her eyelids drift shut at the contact. His palm rested against her cheek (flushed like a sunrise) and he experienced such an intense, overwhelming desire to kiss her that he nearly dropped the plate of s'mores on the ground to replace his thumb with his mouth.
So of course, of course, this was the moment when Molly came into the room, her voice preceding her, asking if Niles was sure he didn't need help. The opening credits had finished. Niles moved his eyes, though for some reason not his hand, and watched as Molly took in the situation before her.
It was CC who stepped away, who brushed her palm against her mouth to remove any remaining chocolate, and who sidestepped Molly to exit the kitchen quickly. She kept her eyes on the ground the entire time.
"Molly…" Niles began, but he was so grateful that she began talking because he'd had no idea what to say.
"Let's go watch the movie," she said, keeping a half-smile on her face. She took the plate of s'mores from him and he'd followed her out to the living room.
But there was no foolish optimism this time. After the movie had finished, Molly had followed Niles up to his room and began talking before he'd even shut the door.
With a loud sigh, Niles sat up from the chaise lounge and rubbed his face with his palms. And herein lies the problem, he thought ruefully. He reached down to retrieve his whiskey, taking a bracing sip. He could still see the set look on his girlfriend's face as he'd turned to face her, but it had taken him a full thirty seconds before he'd been able to process her words.
"I don't want you to see CC anymore."
