CHAPTER 31

CC and the picnic basket made their way back to the mansion a few hours later. CC was excited to find out what Niles had planned for dinner that night. This whole eating-well thing was doing wonders for her mood. And Dr. Bort thought Prozac was all that would help! She snorted.

When she parked her car, she reached over to the picnic basket and removed the tulip from it. The icy-cold soda can that had been in the basket before lunch had kept the flower cool and crisp. She placed it gently upright in the outside pocket of her large purse. She recalled the last time she had seen lilac tulips - there had been a bouquet on the coffee table the night Max and Fran had walked into the living room to find her and Niles locked in a passionate embrace. She shivered.

She grabbed the basket from the seat and got out of her car to enter the mansion through the backdoor at the kitchen.

Fran was having some ice cream with her friend. "Hi, Miss Babcock," they whined in unison.

"Hello, hello!" She said happily as she placed the picnic basket and purse on the table and walked to the fridge to retrieve a bottle of water.

"Aww, Miss Babcock how cute is your new boyfriend!" CC turned to look at her as she swallowed a gulp of water.

CC was about to agree and boast about how sexy and well-off of a catch he was when Val clutched her heart and said, "He brought you a flower during lunch! That is so adorable!"

CC realized they had seen the flower peeking out from her purse.

"Oh! No, Va-, um... Vanessa? That's just..." She didn't want them to get any ideas so she went with, "...something he does sometimes. Nice, huh?"

Fran sighed. "I can't remember the last time someone gave me flowers. It's so old-school but in a good way, ya know. It's like when men would actually court the women. Not like today when we working women have to chase these men and nag them until they finally give up... Which reminds me... I'll see ya later, Val. Gotta go work on Mr. Sheffield."

"Don't ya mean for Mr. Sheffield, Fran?" Val asked.

"No, she doesn't." CC scoffed.

Fran and Val giggled like schoolgirls and greeted each other before Val left.

CC picked up her purse and made her way to the office, thinking that she had received a flower from a man twice in one day. Sure, they were for decorative purposes with her meals and probably somewhat of a reflex for him with all of his butler training but still. It was... not the most unpleasant experience.

CC and Maxwell worked on the costume designs for the upcoming show for a few hours before Niles made an appearance in the office. CC looked up at him as he placed a tray of tea and scones on Maxwell's desk. Niles picked up a teacup and saucer and handed it to CC. Her tummy rumbled audibly.

"Earthquake! Take cover, sir!" He said to his boss and she became embarrassed.

"Isn't it your job to feed me on time everyday?!" She complained.

"Mmhmm. But an appetite like yours is a difficult one with which to keep up."

"Whatever. We need to discuss dinner. You didn't even ask me this morning if I like cottage pie. You just went ahead and made it for lunch."

"You like it."

She shook her head. "Yes but if I didn't I could easily have gone hungry! It would have been a waste!"

"Don't be such a drag queen! Oops, I meant drama queen." He grinned. "We can discuss dinner once you've calmed down. Drink your tea or tonight it'll be to bed without dinner for you."

She huffed in annoyance and took a sip.

A short while later, CC made her way to the living room, searching for Niles. He was cleaning the wall mirror when she spotted him.

She came up behind him and he released a fearful shout of horror.

"What? What?!" She said, clutching her chest in alarm and watching his reflection for an answer.

"Good lord! How do you survive seeing that reflection of yours in the mirror every day?" His face relaxed into a smile and he chuckled.

"You're hilarious, Niles," she said sarcastically as she dropped her hands to her sides. "Get your pen and paper. We need to talk about dinner."

He followed her and sat beside her on the living room couch. Once he had removed his notebook and pen from his blazer pocket, she began listing a few meals she enjoyed.

He wrote 2 pages worth of notes about cooking techniques, the type of cooking oil she'd prefer he use, her favourite cheeses for any dishes requiring them, the type of wine she'd like with meals and how she'd like her meat dishes done.

"I thought you liked your steak freshly hunted and dripping with blood?"

"You're disgusting. Let me read over what you've written." She snatched the notebook from him and flipped back a few pages.

"When did you write this?" She asked as she realized the first page had a list of foods she loved but hadn't mentioned.

"Oh, ignore that. I was trying to decide what to make for lunch and thought those were possibly ones you'd pick if I had asked you. Tear out the page," he said and tried to do just that.

"No, these are great too." She said, pulling the book back from him and reading over them once more, surprised by his accuracy.

She smiled as she read through some of the desserts he'd listed. "Oooh, I'm looking forward to having these! Will there be dessert every night?"

"Think you can afford it?" He teased by glancing down at her tummy. She scowled.

"Kidding."

She smiled, visualizing the baked cheesecake topped with fresh blueberries and a cup of coffee on the side. Or tea, she thought, Tea's okay too.

"I'm going to get started on dinner for the Sheffields soon. Would you like me to cook here so that you can take it home with you?"

"I haven't decided yet which of these I want, actually," she lied and continued looking down at the notebook to hide any sign of her fib.

"So shall I pick and get started or would you like me to cook at your apartment later once you've made up your mind?" He asked, rising from the sofa.

"Later," she said. You can come over after you've served the Sheffields."

He nodded and took back the book as she rose to hand it to him.

"Thanks." They both said. They weren't sure what else to say. They'd never been in this kind of mutually beneficial relationship before where they weren't scratching each other's eyes out.

Much later that night, CC opened the door to a disheveled-looking Niles who was holding 2 bags of groceries.

He rushed past her and into the apartment.

"Sorry, I was held up at the mansion and then I had to fight with a cashier at the grocery store because she wouldn't let me use your card! They never noticed last time. I had to show her a picture of you and I to prove I know you and then point out a magazine article showing your picture and name. It took some convincing that I work for you but they relented eventually." He dropped the bags onto the counter and began emptying them. She walked into the kitchen to help him pack away.

"We might have to do something about the card situation because I don't want to cause a scene each time."

"What picture did you show them?" She asked.

"It was an article on Sheffield-Babcock Productions and the new, upcoming musical."

"No, which one of you and me?" She moved a finger to point between them.

He stopped moving suddenly and looked at her. "Um..."

She waited.

He looked back down at the bag of brown basmati rice he had been holding. "Just an old picture of us at a benefit or something. You know those ones the photographers go around taking?"

She looked surprised. "Why do you-"

"I keep it so that I can run up tabs at bars and put it on your name." He taunted.

She laughed and shook her head. "I never knew you'd bought one of those photos."

She couldn't read his expression. He didn't look sure of it either.

"Yes, well. It comes in handy. Like tonight for instance."

"When you're alone and your handy is the only handy that will touch you?" She teased.

"Don't flatter yourself, Babs," he said but she thought she saw a blush. "I don't need to get off on a picture. I can keep a woman if I need one. I'm confident I'm a good lover."

"Because you practice so much on your own." She laughed and clapped her hands together in enjoyment of her own zinger.

"No because I can tell by the moan." He looked down at her body and then at her lips.

She stopped laughing but her chest still hinted at her quick breathing. She frowned and then swallowed.

He placed the bag of rice on the table behind her, still gazing at her lips. She watched his eyes anxiously.

"Are you going to help me tonight?" He asked.

"With what?" She wanted him to define what was happening.

He was silent for a moment. "Um.." He paused hoping to see some sign from her. Even though she was dying to make a move, she didn't. And that's all that was clear to him.

"With... Um. Dinner." He looked down, feeling despondent.

"Yes."

He nodded, still looking at the floor.

"Only if you don't kiss me."

His eyes shot up to meet hers. He was shocked. They never spoke of things like this. Not before anything happened and not after. And definitely not as an invitation to make things happen. Her comment seemed so personal. A kiss. That's all. But that's all it took with him.

He watched her lips and then her eyes as they fell on his jaw. He noticed her chest rise and waited for it to fall. It seemed as though it wasn't going to.

He took the tiniest step closer and rested his hand on the counter behind her. They both looked at it. She looked back at him and waited to see what he'd do or say. There was a wooden spoon near his hand. He's going to reach for it and make me cook. He won't kiss me.

He finally looked up at her. He inched even closer, his head next to her cheek and he felt her breath on his neck.

She didn't dare move. He still had the upper hand. All he had done was imply his decision. He could change it into a joke in a second.

But he didn't. He pulled his head slightly back to look at her, almost touching noses. He lifted a hand and gently brushed two fingers over her lips. She blinked a few times and felt her lips tingle. They were already sensitive in anticipation of a kiss.

He lowered the fingers to her chin and then slid them down her neck to her collar bone and then he gently, almost barely, touched his lips to hers. She was too on edge to move her mouth. Her eyes were still open and she was frozen to the spot. He hadn't really kissed her, just touched his lips to hers.

When his lips began to part from hers she was disappointed that that would be the end of it. If she wanted more, she would have to meet him halfway. She pouted her lips into a kiss and nipped him back gently, closing her eyes when he leaned into her kiss.

He lowered his hand from her collarbone to the back of her hand and grazed his fingers against hers. She turned her hand to touch fingertips with him. Their other arms still clutched at their own sides as if they were afraid to let themselves touch any more than they had.

He wanted to clasp his fingers between hers and hold her hand but he was afraid it would seem more intimate than sexual and the kiss was already taking that chance. He knew she wanted more sex in her life, she groaned about it constantly at the mansion, but he wouldn't assume she wanted love. Especially not from him. Holding hands seemed too bold a move in the moment. He didn't want to scare her off.

She breathed in through her nose, not wanting to part lips with him and she pressed her lips a little harder against his once more. She didn't want to deepen the kiss. She was enjoying it they way it was going.

She was glad that he didn't try to work his tongue into her mouth either. Not that she would've protested, but this was nice. It felt as though there were no expectations.

She smiled into the kiss and he heard her lips move against her teeth as she did so. He pulled away from her and they both looked down, smiling like idiots.

"What?" He asked her.

She just grinned, feeling giddy.

He did the same.

She looked over at the wooden spoon. "You know what this means of course, don't you?"

He looked at her in question.

"I don't have to help you cook." She smirked and he laughed, running a hand through his hair.

CC left Niles to cook as she went to have a quick shower and get into something a little more comfortable. She slipped on a pair of pale grey, form-fitting yoga pants and a thin and airy, knitted jersey in pale yellow. She put on a pair of night slippers over fluffy, white socks and made her way to the kitchen.

Dinner was served and this time, Niles ate along with her. They had lasagna and a fresh salad with a glass of wine each. CC kept feeling like this was a first date. Italian food, wine, a chaste and shy kiss earlier in the night. But then she reminded herself this was Niles; he was being paid; this was his job; and this was her apartment where she was wearing a tracksuit and slippers and (should have been) thinking of Damon.

They shared a few curious glances and small talk. Once they had finished, Niles cleared the dishes, tidied the kitchen and got ready to leave.

"What about your wine?" She asked, noticing he had only finished half his glass.

"I'll throw it out. I'm definitely not leaving it there for you to get drunk on. You've had enough," He jabbed.

She huffed. "I had one glass! And I can have as many as I want! I'm a grown woman." She poured another glass for herself just to spite him.

"Fully grown." He said, smirking.

She shook her head and picked up their glasses, walked to the living room and sat on the sleek black sofa. "Come on. Sit here and finish this with me. I hate to drink alone."

"That's never stopped you before. As soon as the clock chimes 5 p.m..." He laughed but sat next to her, taking his glass.

"What ever happened in that Spanish soap opera?" She asked, turning on the TV with one of the many remotes she had lying around.

"The one where they killed Papi?"

She nodded, flipping through channels.

"I think that one ended. It only ran for about 6 seasons before they played something else in its place."

"Ugh. They always end it just when you want to see where things lead!" She said.

He agreed and took a sip from his wine. She looked over at him. He was sitting on the edge of his seat, somewhat rigidly. "Lean back, relax. You're off duty until you have to clean these glasses!" She laughed as she kicked off her slippers and lifted her feet onto the sofa.

He smiled. "You clean out a wine glass with more precision than I could."

She gulped down some wine. "Ahh! And I wouldn't have it any other way!" She grinned.

They watched some trashy TV in comfortable silence and he would look over at her every time she laughed at something funny that the characters would do.

After the first few times, his laugh quietened and she realized it had been because he was watching her and not the TV. She drank the last sip in her glass and placed the empty vessel on the coffee table. She pulled her legs up to her chest.

He noticed her glass was empty. "Shall I pour you some more, Miss Babcock?"

"No, Thank you." She kept her eyes on the screen even though it was a commercial.

"I should get going," he said.

"You've still got a few sips left." She pointed out as they both rose from the sofa.

"Oh." She watched as instead of gulping it, he stood, sipping slowly. She picked up her glass and walked to the kitchen. He followed her and placed it alongside hers in the dishwasher. She smiled when she saw the two glasses and the pair of plates waiting to be cleaned. She couldn't remember the last time her kitchen had hosted a dinner for two. In fact, she couldn't remember single time.

She shut the dishwasher door and turned towards him. She lifted her hands up her sides, searching for pockets in her pants and then, realizing it had none, rested her hands on her hips. She didn't know what to do next.

He watched her as she smiled at him before she looked around her apartment behind her.

"Thank you for the company tonight, Miss Babcock." He bowed his head. So formal, she thought.

She nudged him gently, rolling her eyes with a smile. "Stop acting so... weird."

"You stop," he said. "I think you took too much Prozac."

She laughed and they turned to walk to the door.

He opened it and stepped out into the hallway. She took hold of the door and stood with half her body behind it, almost hidden from view.

He turned to greet her and took in the sight of her. She looked down at herself and then back up at him.

"Dinner was great, thanks." She said.

"A repeat tomorrow?" He asked.

"Yes, but not the..." She smiled, "lasagna again."

He grinned at her. "Not the lasagna again," he repeated in a happy mumble, as if making a mental note. "Goodnight, Miss Babcock."

"Goodnight, Niles." She smiled and shut the door. She looked down at her feet, still smiling, and then looked through the peephole. He was still standing in front of her door. She saw him raise his hand slowly as if to knock. Her heart jumped. She didn't want him to do it. Not tonight. She watched, relieved, as he lowered it again, smiled and then walked away.