Evidence
Chapter 2: Niles
He had been trying to sleep for some time, now.
And he was more and more certain he would not be able to.
Of course, sharing the floor of the small bedroom with heavy-sleeper Maxwell and kick-boxer Brighton would not be easy, anyway, but what was keeping Niles awake was the feeling that Babcock could be suffering, and that he was the one to blame for it.
And this time he hadn't made it on purpose.
She had hesitated before coming; she intended to decline from the invitation to come in the limo with the family. He could see her squirming and searching for a way out.
However, sometimes she was like a child: she did things that she knew were not good for her, just for the enjoyment of the moment and the immediate pleasure they could bring.
(Niles suspected she had serious issues with long-term relationships, probably related to her divorced parents; so, she always searched short-time fulfillment: that was why she had smoked, that was why she still drank more than she should, that was why she clang to the first charming millionaire who presented himself...)
So, when Maxwell said he would be glad if she came with the family, she simply let any doubts aside, forced a smile and did what she thought the man wanted her to.
Niles sighed and turned to lay on his back, annoyed.
He had to stop thinking about her.
She had put herself in that situation.
If she had stood by herself, as the independent woman she was, she would not be in the probably freezing living room.
He supported his forearm on his forehead, closing his eyes in an effort to relax, but the conversation from earlier kept coming into his mind...
'I won't share a bed with anyone'.
'But, Miss Babcock', Fran pleaded, 'it'll be fun!'
'Fun while sharing a bed is not a familiar concept to her, Miss Fine. She is a professional'.
She just rolled her eyes.
'Besides, you'll freeze, here', the brunette tried again.
'I'm a Babcock. I'm not subjecting myself to the humiliation of sharing a bed with children and the hired help'.
Niles still felt the pain on his chest when he remembered her words.
It was humiliating to share a bed with the help, even if it was in a moment of need.
Now, Niles covered his face with his hands: need was the most correct word to describe their current relationship.
He has been in need of her for years, now.
He was addicted to her, in fact. He enjoyed every moment he spent in her company, and he knew it was sick how much he tried to attract her attention in a daily basis, so the game could go on.
So, she would not loose her interest in him.
That truce they called, in order to pester Miss Fine, had been the last straw: at the end of the second day, he was already trying to find excuses to be with her out of the mansion.
He realized, to his horror, that snobbish, cruel CC annoyed and attracted him, but that relaxed and lovely CC could do what she wanted with him.
He spent the last day of their truce avoiding her and racking his brain for ways to mend his situation with Miss Fine. He just needed to make Babcock go away from him.
At least, physically. Because, deep inside, she had already marked her territory.
(Oh, a dog zinger! These things just wrote themselves when he thought about her!)
That last night of their truce, in her apartment, when they shared comfortable companionship, he grew more and more attached to the situation of being so personally close to her.
He felt his control slipping away, an urge to tell her how much he liked her getting root in his brain and menacing to escape at each time he opened his mouth to speak.
He was famous for blurting things out; he was not good with secrets. He had found the only outlet to his affection for her in the banter, and he needed to keep it alive, or he would say everything he had in mind.
Without the banter, all he could think was of sitting closer to her and telling her how much he liked her, and then kiss her leisurely.
That night, he had looked at his watch, in an absurd move to put the decision in the hands of Fate: if it was early in the night, he would do something; if it was late, he would call it a night and go home.
It was very late – it was almost midnight.
A bit disappointed, he told her he should go home.
He remembered he could almost hear himself saying, I don't want to go.
And he could almost read in her eyes I don't know if I want you to go.
He waited for her to say it. He needed her to say it. He was sure of his feelings, but he wanted her to recognize hers, too. This thing between them was so special he wouldn't risk declaring himself and making her so frightened she would say the first stupid words that came into her head, ridiculing him just for the sake of protecting herself.
As always, she didn't say anything.
He understood it was too much for her.
Niles got up, realizing she was doing the same, as if they were synchronized.
He remembered their kiss in the den, and how similar this was.
And this time they were alone – if they did it, no one would be there to interrupt.
His heart went small when they just stood in front of each other, a replay of their kiss begging to happen, and both couldn't bring themselves to act.
He felt that urge to say something coming back, panicked a bit and fought for control.
Making an effort to compromise, he concentrated, chose the words and confessed how much her company made him feel good.
They smiled at each other. In sync, as always.
He had to get out of there.
He ran to the door, and he barely said goodnight, and he almost choke when her name went through his lips, and he went home tormented and plotting how to end that truce before something horrible happened.
And by horrible, he meant two main things: 1)certain rejection or 2)her usual ambiguous moves turning even more ambiguous, making him glued to her net while she hid in her own self-defense methods.
That night proved to him that she needed him, too... that she felt happy with him.
That she was even more wonderful than usual, in his eyes, when she was happy.
And that she would probably never act on it.
Niles sighed and turned over on the hard floor. He regretted how he had let his anger come out, earlier tonight, saying that the Ice Queen would be very comfortable in the cold living room, alone.
They had been so close to something, so many times, and she kept repeating the same old things about servants being so beneath her that she couldn't consider the possibility of respecting them, much less liking them.
When everybody agreed with him and started leaving the living room, he almost opened his mouth to tell them on their lack of consideration for her.
But there was no way he would have the braveness to do something even remotely nice to her in front of them.
He could be the guy of her dreams when they were alone (he wished he knew if the guy in her dreams would do what he did to her in his fantasies – treating her like a queen in every context possible), but when there were other people around and she acted like she hated everybody (including herself), he couldn't bring himself the pain of showing how much he cared.
And he cared.
Dear Lord, he never thought he was capable of caring so much!
One more kick from Brighton, and Niles decided he had had enough.
He got up, adjusted that damned World's greatest lover t-shirt Sylvia seemed to always have in stock for him ('Morty got a bit jealous, last time. Maybe you should just take it with you'), circled the people on the floor and exited the room silently.
Yes, he was going to check on her.
If anyone saw him, he could always say he was going to use the facilities.
Nobody needed to know he had a soul and it worried about that woman.
Once he was out, in the corridor, Niles felt the blast of cold. Of course, it was worse because he had been in a heated room, but he regretted not wearing his pants.
Well, it was not like he intended that Babcock saw him, giving her the chance to ask if he was giving her a repeated performance of Risky Business, with those socks.
(Not that Niles would mind seeing her probable smirk when she mentioned that moment. He had never forgotten the look in her eyes after he threw that killing zinger at her, and the way her eyes seized him for a lot more time than it was comfortable.)
Arriving in the living room, Niles noticed he was getting used to the difference in temperature, but that it was still bad. He wondered how she was coping, once she didn't bring clothes appropriated to sleepover, and he had heard Sylvia saying something about the shiksa ignoring her when she offered one of Morty's pajamas.
(Because it seemed Sylvia just had sexy nightgowns.)
He went cautiously to the big sofa and noticed the curled form.
There was a lamp on in the kitchen, throwing a hint of light in the room.
He got closer and saw trembling agitating the covers and the small portion of blond hair that was out.
Niles gulped. He was certain she would be ok, when he decided to came. He was sure it was just a matter of seeing with his own eyes how well she was dealing with it (maybe even snoring loudly, if he was lucky), and then he would be back to his bed in peace.
However, she didn't seem to be ok.
What was he to do?
He could wake her up, access her condition and menace her with hypothermia, to make her come to the bedroom with him.
(He felt himself warm over the idea of bringing her to the bedroom with him.
He really must take a hold of himself.)
But, what if she didn't come? What if she yelled at him and woke up all the house and he had to explain he had come to check on her?
He could say he came to play a prank... and that she woke up... And then he could make people notice she was freezing, somehow...
She shivered again, under the covers.
Niles took a decision. He would act. He would be with her for a while, until... until he felt it was enough.
But, then, he hesitated again: what was the best approach? To pull the covers, lay there quickly and grab her before she could push him away?
No.
She had to come to him.
She had to accept what he had to offer.
It was no use if he was going to force him on her. He had never done that, and it was not changing tonight.
Niles raised the covers delicately and laid down by the back of the curled body.
He put down the covers and went slowly closer to her.
He waited for some moments, until he was sure she could feel his heat on her back, even if he was not touching her.
She moved a bit, bringing herself instinctively closer to the source of heat.
Niles slowly sneaked a hand to rest on her hip.
He expected her to come even closer to him – what she did.
He didn't expect her to turn around and nestle on him as if he was the most comfortable thing in the world – what she did, too.
He expected even less that she would bring her head close to him until she found the perfect place to fit it, between his shoulder and his chin.
What she did.
He also didn't expect her to turn her nose into his neck, inhale deeply and sigh blissfully, before relaxing and falling into a peaceful sleep.
What she did.
With a low satisfied moan.
Niles didn't know what to do.
Of course, the right thing was...
What?
Staying there and help her?
Fleeing?
Telling her he was not the hot water bottle?
The witch must have felt his indecision, because she moved, putting a leg between his and making sure he was not going anywhere.
Niles closed his eyes and rationalized that, being him an early person, he would wake up before her, and could go back to his bed and save face, in the morning.
That settled, he was free to help her better, and moved his body to mold her even better to his chest, adjusting the shoulder she was resting her head in, so he was able to circle her body with that arm.
She seemed to like the idea, because it made her snuggle herself against him, her own free arm hugging him by the waist, and her thigh grazing a part of him that was awakening quickly.
She sighed again in pleasure.
Niles started focusing on how cold she still was, in order to control a bit of his own reactions to her proximity.
Her breathing on his neck was not helping.
But he was a gentleman, after all, and he was perfectly capable of sleeping with a woman in his arms.
Even if that woman was the Devil herself.
Niles chuckled – if he had said that the Devil would not feel at home in a frozen place, maybe things would have never reached this point...
(Not that this point was that bad...)
I must remember that thing about Hell to use tomorrow. It will be a great zinger…
I should, really, plan some good zingers to say in case she wakes up before me and demands explanations…
Yeah… I should… I will... in the morning...
Niles yawned, kissed her temple and fell asleep with a smile on his face.