Chapter 8

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

"Molly, what are you—" Niles had said, once he'd fully understood what she had told him.

"Look, Niles, that night when you were two hours late for our date and you never called?" Molly began, crossing her arms across her chest. "When I found out it was because of some other woman, I was ready to never talk to you again. But then you explained that she works with Max, and then I realized you'd known her for a while, and I figured you were friends."

Niles had opened his mouth to protest, but protest what? How could he hope to explain his relationship with Babcock?

"I mean, yes, you seemed to mention this 'Miss Babcock' a lot, but I figured you were just good friends, like you are with Fran," Molly continued, half-looking at Niles. "Then that dinner, I…I don't know. The way you looked at each other. I thought there was something between you."

Niles made a sound of protest but Molly snapped her head to his and he silenced himself.

"You said there wasn't. I believed you. But when I came for lunch…" Molly trailed off and shook her head. "Maybe you don't realize the way she acts around you, I thought. I don't know. But then tonight…"

"She had some chocolate on her face," Niles reasoned.

Molly looked at him, a little desperately. "Niles, I'm going to ask again. Is there anything between you?"

"She's just…" Niles shook his head. Whatever CC was to him, she wasn't just anything. He tried again, "She's a…" Friend? Playmate? Why wasn't there a word for what she was to him?

"You aren't really helping your case here."

Niles sighed. "Molly, I don't know what Miss Babcock is. She's not exactly a friend. But I've known her for fifteen years."

"And she isn't your friend? After what I've seen, I don't really believe that you hate her."

"No, I don't exactly hate her…"

"Then what exactly is it?"

"I don't know," Niles repeated.

"I don't know how you don't know," Molly replied. She stopped herself and shook her head, recrossing her arms tightly. "Fine. That isn't what I wanted to talk about anyway. Whatever it is, your interactions with her make me uncomfortable, especially after what I saw tonight. So I don't want you to see her anymore."

"I'm sorry that she makes you uncomfortable but…but she works in the same house, Molly. I don't know how…"

"I understand that. But you're the butler and she's the business partner, Niles. I'm sure your work doesn't demand that you're in the office with her all the time," Molly said quickly, as though she'd thought through this dilemma.

Niles could think of no way to refute this without admitting to her (and himself) that he'd spent more time cleaning that office than any other room in the house. (In fact, there were many rooms in the house he hadn't set foot in for years, too afraid of the layers of dust and cobwebs he'd find.)

"I know you'll still see her," Molly said, her face softening, "but maybe don't…seek her out. Do you think you can do that?"

"I…I've known her for fifteen years, Molly," Niles said again.

"You've said that already," Molly said, irritation seeping into her voice and onto her face. She looked down at her feet and then back up at him. "Why don't you think about it for a little bit?"

Niles nodded and then stepped in front of her as she made to leave his room. "What if…what if I can't agree?"

Molly looked at him, her eyes sad. "I told you how I feel. We can talk in a couple of days."

They shared a chaste, quick kiss before Molly had left his room.

Niles blinked, bringing himself back into the present. Their conversation had taken place roughly 24 hours ago and Niles still didn't know what the hell to do. He supposed he should be grateful that it was the weekend and that Babcock was off doing whatever it was she did on the weekends.

(How did he not know? How had he known this woman for fifteen years and never once figured out what she did in her spare time? What did that say about him?)

Either way, she wasn't here, and Niles supposed that made it easier for him to think.

(No, it really didn't.)

He had called Molly, and true to her word, she was giving him a couple of days to think. She hadn't questioned him about his decision at all. They'd had a short conversation about their days and about their (separate) plans for Sunday.

Slumping miserably against the chaise lounge again, Niles stared up at the massive skylight. A petulant, immature part of him yearned for someone to tell him what to do so he could eschew any responsibility.

Logic told him that agreeing to Molly's request made the most sense. She was his girlfriend, had been for a few months now, and she was the greatest shot he had at long-term happiness.

(The illogical, stupid, irrational part of him screamed that Molly's request did not make sense, that he couldn't possibly agree to not see CC again, that she was such an essential part of his day and his existence that he couldn't fathom a day without her.)

But it bothered him, more than he'd ever realized, that he couldn't put a name to his relationship with Babcock. The defensiveness he'd felt when Molly had questioned him grew out of the dawning realization he'd had in that moment that it was practically laughable that he didn't know what to call it. Friends? No. Acquaintances? No. Co-workers? No. Lovers? No. Friends/enemies/sparring partners/playmates/occasional makeout partner did not seem an adequate (or appropriate) response. Everyone else in his life had a label. Everyone could be categorized. Everyone except for, predictably, the irascible, superior, beautiful, irritating Babcock.

Fran had asked him, several times that day, what was wrong, but Niles didn't know what to say. He had a feeling that he knew what Fran's response would be to Molly's request, but she was too motivated by emotion. On the opposite spectrum, he could practically hear Mr. Sheffield's response: Old man, what sort of question is that? You don't even like CC! Molly's your girlfriend, chum, you should see to that.

He wondered what CC would say.

Swallowing the rest of his drink, Niles left the solarium and went straight to his bedroom, anticipating a fitful night's sleep.

Niles finally relented after lunch the next day. He hadn't slept well, and it worsened his mood all the more. Though he'd decided to put the issue out of his mind, he still thought about it for most of the day—only now, thoughts of CC brought a little pang to his heart. He found this too difficult to cope with on his own.

So when Fran followed him into the kitchen after lunch and leaned against the counter, Niles knew he'd give in before she even opened her mouth.

"Niles, are ya gonna talk to me or should I not even bother?" she asked, watching him carefully place the plates in the dishwasher.

"I'll talk."

"Because I'm not sure how much more I can—oh!" Fran said, her eyes popping open. "It's about time! Should I get the coffee cake?"

"Miss Fine, we just had lunch."

"You're right, you're right. I'll grab cookies instead."

Moments later, the two friends met at the kitchen table with a plate of chocolate chip cookies between them.

"So what's been going on? Dish! We haven't talked in so long," Fran said, biting into a cookie. She smiled brightly, clearly eager to talk to her best friend, but Niles saw a little sadness in her eyes and felt a pang of guilt at how he'd been avoiding her lately.

"Mostly, I need to discuss what happened Friday night."

"The movie night?" Fran asked quietly, her forehead rumpling. Niles nodded. "Well, what happened?"

Niles sighed. "Molly asked something of me, and I'm not sure I can do it."

"Does it involve toys?" Fran asked. She nodded knowledgably. "Honey, I know, it's scary at first, but if you come up with a safe word…"

"No!" Niles exclaimed, though he couldn't help laughing. "Miss Fine, I don't need any advice about a kinky sex life. She asked something else."

"Oh," Fran said, deflating a little. "What'd she ask, then?"

"She doesn't want me to see Miss Babcock anymore."

Fran opened her mouth to respond and then clamped it shut. Seeming to choose her words carefully, she offered, "I didn't think you were seeing much of her to begin with."

Niles eyed her. "Not like that. She doesn't want me to…to seek her out."

Fran lifted her eyebrows and Niles felt a little irritated that she hadn't responded with any sort of surprise. "What did you say?"

"I haven't said anything! That's why I need to talk to you!"

"Well, what do you think you should do?"

"Miss Fine, my girlfriend just requested that I no longer have any contact with Miss Babcock, and that's all you have to say?" Niles asked, a little incredulously. He grabbed a cookie and split it in half, tossing it onto his plate.

"I dunno what to say, Niles," Fran admitted, taking another bite. "I can't tell you what to do—"

"Yes you can. All you do is tell other people what to do with their lives."

"I do not. I give suggestions, maybe a little nudge," Fran corrected.

"Fine. Nudge me."

Fran looked at him. "Ok, I shouldn't have said I can't tell you what to do. I should've said that I won't tell you what to do."

"Why not?"

"It's your relationship, Niles," Fran responded with a shrug. "I don't like to get involved in other peoples' relationships."

"Oh, Miss Fine…"

"Ok, ok, even I know that one's a lie. I do like to get involved. Fine. Why'd she ask you this in the first place?"

Niles squirmed. "Well, she brought up the time I was late for a date because I was at the hospital with Miss Babcock."

"Uh huh."

"Then she talked about the dinner we all had."

"Mm hmm."

"Then she mentioned when she came for lunch last week and the way Miss Babcock and I act around each other."

"Eh heh."

Niles shifted in his seat again, reluctant to bring up what Molly saw in the kitchen. "She just wanted to know what Miss Babcock and I 'are'," Niles continued, using sarcastic quote marks, "and I didn't know how to explain it."

Fran nodded. "Makes sense. No one can explain it."

Niles smiled gratefully at her. "What should I do, Miss Fine?"

Fran looked at him sympathetically and pressed the tip of her finger into a chocolate chip. "Niles, I…" She shook her head. "You've known her for fifteen years."

"That's what I told Molly."

"I…Niles, I don't think it's very fair of her to ask you to do something like this," Fran said carefully, looking at him closely.

"No, but—"

"But what? Maybe you can't explain what she is, maybe there isn't a perfect word for it, but she's a part of your life," Fran said, her eyes lighting up.

"Yes, but so is Molly," Niles pointed out.

"If she's that insecure about your relationship, then maybe there's more you need to work on than cutting Miss Babcock out of your life."

Niles felt a surge of irritation, and though he knew it wasn't because of Fran, he couldn't necessarily point it in the right direction. "Miss Fine, I don't think criticizing my relationship is called for here."

Fran raised her eyebrows again. "Niles, you just asked me for help because your girlfriend of three months asked you to go complete radio silence with a woman you've known for fifteen years. I think a little criticism is called for here."

"I hardly think it's necessary to say anything like that. I asked for your advice about what to do."

"I hardly think it's necessary to continue a relationship based on an ultimatum," Fran retorted. "You asked for my advice, and I gave it to you. You need to talk to Molly about your relationship. She has no right blaming Miss Babcock."

"Why not, the woman ruins everything else," Niles muttered.

"Oy, Niles, I love ya, but ya really need to grow up," Fran said, standing up and pushing her chair in roughly.

"Since when do you defend Babcock?"

"Since she did nothing wrong here!" Fran exclaimed. "You've changed since you started dating Molly, and she's noticed it too."

Niles rolled his eyes, his irritation flaming into anger. "I knew I never should have talked to you about this."

"You asked for my advice, and I gave it," Fran said, stung.

"And I regret it," Niles snapped. The kitchen door swung open as Fran stomped up the back staircase and Niles pushed his chair aside as he stood.

"What was that about?" CC asked, looking from the stairwell to Niles with raised eyebrows. She dressed semi-casually for work on a Sunday, wearing a soft red shirt and black slacks. The realization that she looked just as beautiful irked him even more.

"Is that your business?" Niles snapped, snatching the plate of cookies and setting them on the counter with more force than necessary. A few cookies fell and crumbled.

"Trouble in paradise, Alice?"

"My life could hardly be called paradise."

"Ah. Molly Maid not the bright ray of sunshine you thought?" CC guessed. He saw a ghost of a smirk grace her face and he clenched his jaw.

"She's perfectly lovely," Niles disagreed. "You're the problem, as always."

This took CC aback and she leaned her right hip against the counter, crossing her arms. "Oh? Well, do explain. I love being a source of problems in your life."

"Then I regret to inform you that Molly has requested that I not see you anymore," Niles told her with a fake, ugly smile on his face.

Surprisingly, CC laughed. "That's ridiculous. What really happened?"

"That did. She doesn't want me to associate with you anymore."

She stared at him and repeated, "That's ridiculous."

"Oh? Why?" Niles asked. His anger still simmered in his stomach, but a little spark ignited near his heart.

"Because…well, I work here. How are we supposed to not interact?"

"She said I don't need to work in the office that much, that I don't need to seek you out."

"Caterer's thought of everything, hasn't she?"

"Evidently. What are your thoughts?" he asked her.

She'd been staring blankly off but turned her eyes back to him at his question. "My thoughts? What does it matter what I think? Do whatever the hell you want with your little girlfriend."

Niles clenched his jaw again and looked away from her. If he'd been hoping to see some sort of change in her behavior, her posture, her face, he'd surely been let down. CC stood there as though Niles hadn't just said something that could potentially change everything between them. Couldn't those eyes (he was too tired to think of anything poetic about them) have softened at least a little? This damn woman.

"So it wouldn't bother you, Miss Babcock, if we never interacted again?" He couldn't help but remember the last time he'd beseeched this woman to give him something, anything, to hang his hat on. Perhaps that should have given him his answer.

CC laughed, a quick, harsh dissonance. "Jesus, Niles, it would be the best gift you've ever given me. All I've wanted for fifteen years is for you to leave me alone."

He looked at her, his anger slipping away as though she'd released a valve on him. Their eyes met until it became uncomfortable, and he saw a flicker of confusion cross her gaze. Niles turned and went upstairs to call Molly.