So with my other current story, "A greater cost than fortune" about to become progressively heavier, I needed a little levity for my creative outlets. I have about a dozen other story ideas for Oliver and Grace but this idea came to my mind the other night while lying in bed and it seemed like the perfect little diversion.

I'm basing this one on the 1999 made-for-TV Disney movie of "Annie". Mostly because I feel Grace would potentially have the most insecurity about revealing her feelings to Oliver in that particular version.

I love all iterations of Annie, but that one is especially magical.

Peace and love,

Renee.

...

Oliver was hunched over the same stack of paperwork he'd been toiling away over for the past six hours. He was to be flying out in the morning to Illinois for an inspection tour of his factories and would be gone for six weeks. There was a lot to get done before he left, and at this rate, he was anticipating it to be an all-nighter.

It was after midnight already and all the rest of the occupants of the house were in their rooms, the majority already sleeping, save for Grace who had only gone up to bed a half hour before and was currently sitting up against her satin covered feather-down pillow reading a Nella Larsen novel.

Just as she was approaching the climax of a nail-biting chapter, she let out a groan of frustration as all the light in the room suddenly died. Blackouts were a regular thing these days as more and more New Yorkers were joining the grid and overloading the electricity board.

She sighed deeply, knowing she could just set her book down on the bedside table and go off to sleep, but also aware of how much distress her boss would currently be in without any light to work by and how hopeless he was at doing most domestic things for himself, like finding a lamp in a huge mansion. She knew he wouldn't have the first clue where to look for a start.

Pushing her blankets off herself, she found her slippers with her feet and crossed the room to the chaise lounger over which her dressing gown was draped. Swinging it around herself, she carefully made her way out of her room and down the corridor, reaching the marble staircase and taking them very cautiously one step at a time, feeling quite disconcerted, and, she had to admit to herself, a little spooked at walking around the mansion while it was completely pitch black.

She blindly navigated her way to the office and squinted as she tried to look for her employer. "Mr Warbucks?" she muttered into the darkness, almost afraid of the sound of her own voice.

When she was not met with a reply, she exited the room once more and felt her way along the wall until she found the handle of a broom closet. She knew Mrs. Pugh and Mrs. Greer kept a few oil lamps in the galley and the parlor but this one she'd stored herself, wanting to keep one near to the office in just such an occasion as this, knowing how crucial and time-critical work was and how intent Mr. Warbucks would be in finding a source of light to be able to continue it. That was why she assumed he had left his office in search of one. She wondered how far and in which direction he'd gone.

Not wanting to wake the others, whom, it appeared, were all still sleeping, Grace didn't want to call out for him, but thankfully she didn't have to as there was just the slightest sliver of moonlight pouring in through a top window which created enough of a glow that she could just make him out across the room.

She hadn't yet lit the oil lamp and it was an oddly thrilling thing to watch him move around the hall and know that he hadn't yet seen her. He was barely visible in the low light but it was unmistakably him. Grace would know his form anywhere. She'd never confess to anyone how many moments she'd stared at him in amazement and wonder over the years. She was in awe of him - Grace corrected her own thoughts with a pounding heart - she was in love with him.

She was sure he felt the same way about her, too. He'd never directly said anything to her, nor shown his adoration for her physically, but he had become so warm and caring towards her, especially when they were alone together.

A wild and impetuous thought came into her mind as she gazed amorously at him helplessly searching the hall for a source of light. Perhaps this was a unique opportunity in which she might be able to express her feelings to him. She didn't think she would ever be bold enough to look him in the eye and confess to him that she loved him, but maybe with a shield of visionless protection around her, she just might be brave enough.

And he was leaving in the morning for six weeks. At least if things went bad she'd have a month and a half to find a new job and a new place to live…

As silently as she could manage it, not wanting to alert him to her presence until the last possible moment, Grace tip-toed soundlessly towards him. She was barely two feet away from him when he spun around to meet her.

She gasped, her hand instantly flying not to her own mouth, but to his. "Shh, don't-don't speak, please", she whispered shakily. She couldn't make out his features, save for his eyes which were sparkling against the moonlight, so she didn't know whether or not he was looking at her in alarm, perturbation or surprise. He hadn't said anything yet, as she'd requested though, which she supposed could have been out of pure shock. Yet, she could feel his warm breath against her fingertips as she slowly brushed them against his slightly parted lips.

He was breathing at quite a fast pace and she swore she could feel his rapidly beating pulse, but it was likely just her own.

Feeling the most nervous she'd felt since the day she'd come to interview for the position of his secretary, Grace spoke to him with a trembling voice. "If you don't say anything, we can both claim deniability. We can simply pretend that this…that this never happened." Before either of them could form another thought, Grace stepped forward and sought out his lips with hers, kissing him soundly but with a shuddering breath.

She could have cried when he wrapped his arm around her and began to kiss her back. She whimpered as he returned the kiss so tenderly and brought a gentle hand to her face, stroking her skin so reverently she thought she'd died and gone to heaven.

Many moments later, once they'd separated again, both letting out long, calming breaths, Grace pushed the oil lamp into his broad chest. "Whoever you are, that was wonderful", she breathed and Oliver coughed a little, clearly trying to hold back the sound of his laughter.

She reached up with her other hand and pressed her palm to heart. "Now, Mr. Warbucks has an early flight in the morning and I need to be up to help him prepare for his trip, so I ought to go to bed now. Take this, but don't light it until I've reached the top of the stairs and turned the corner, out of sight."

She couldn't help herself, she raised herself up on her toes and grabbed his shoulders, kissing him deeply once more before releasing him with sigh and beginning her quick ascent up the stairs.

She was barely halfway up when the room around her became encased in the light from the oil lamp.

He'd ignored what she'd asked of him and despite his eager response to her kiss, she still felt far too embarrassed to look at him. But fighting the urge to flee and to run straight to her room without looking back, Grace slowly turned around.

His face was a picture, lit up by the soft lamplight, he was smiling so serenely at her it nearly made her want to run back down the stairs and take him in her arms again. Slowly, Grace's face broke out into a radiant grin as they stared emotionally at each other.

After gazing into one another's eyes for what could have been forever, Grace finally gave him a dainty nod of her head and continued up to bed.

…