top nanny scene ever is still the one thats like. maxwell voice. i'm putting my foot down you are NOT coming to france with me. you are my employee & we are NOT together. & then it immediately cuts to them strolling through paris holding hands

SHIPPER TAG GAME

I was tagged by @lurkingshan, thank you very much (´꒳`)♡ My memory is not the best so some of these are going to be a little challenging lol but let’s try!

1. What ship were you completely obsessed with when you were a teenager, but now you don't care anymore?

I don’t know how to “not care” about things I once loved I’m afraid lol. But ships that consumed my life that I now don’t think about very often and am more “what a good surprise to see you here, I still like you" than "oh you are back to consume my life for the next two to fifteen months" are most of the things I watched when I was younger: Logan/Max from Dark Angel, Sam/Jack and Daniel/Jack from Stargate:SG1, Jim/Blair from The Sentinel, Piper/Leo from Charmed, Tim/Tony and Gibbs/Tony from NCIS, etc...

2. Which ship would you consider your first one?

Hmmm… I think the first time I felt emotionally invested in two characters ending up together – in a “watching religiously and asking my mom to tape the wedding episode because we would be traveling on the day it was to be diffused” kind of way – is Fran Fine and Maxwell Sheffield from The Nanny.

We knew they were end game, but STILL!

3. Your first fanfic belonged to which couple?

Oh, good question… I came into fandom via manga and while they were not the ones I shipped the hardest (I was a hardcore Gaara/Lee fan ♡♡♡), I think the first fics I read were NaruSasu and/or Kakashi/Iruka – on personal fan websites.

The first shipping fic I wrote hmmm… I think it actually was some Kakashi/Iruka? I tumbled into fandom really fast once I found it so it’s a bit of a blur lol but yeah, pretty sure it was something Naruto related.

4. Do you remember the first couple you saw a fanart over?

… Not really, but probably either something from One Piece (Zorro/Luffy or Zorro/Sanji) or Neon Genesis Evangelion – those two were the very first manga I read (circa 2002), and I vaguely remember checking them on Google Image for my favorite hobby: “collecting images from the internet that I would then organize carefully in the computer’s little folders” so I must have found some cute stuffs that I didn’t even realize were shipping…

5. Did you ever get into ship discourse?

No. While I generally have strong opinions about stuff, I am pretty non confrontational and I’m here for a good time, not to fight with people, so I avoid it. I’ve seen stuffs that I’m glad I didn’t poke with a ten feet pole. On top of that, I am a huge believer and practitioner of “shipping one character with more than one person (in a polycule or not)” so ship wars have never made much sense to me. Even in qL, even when I really adore the endgame couple(s), I often like thinking of the options, the what-if, etc. so fighting about that does not sound appealing lol

6. Did you used to have any no-otp or have it currently?

Talking about my very first fandoms, I never wanted Sakura with either Naruto nor Sasuke lol I loved her, but hated the idea of either options. Still not sold on it tbh. I also really hated the idea of Hermione with either of the other two lsdfj same reason, I loved her so much, and I loved that they were friends!

I have ships I am uninterested in but I always feel like notp is a little stronger than that, so I don’t think I have any currently.

7. Who were the couple in the last fanfic you read?

Oof, okay, life does come back full circle lol I binged the One Piece Live Action at the start of the month, so the last fics I’ve read since were all Zorro/Luffy.

8. Currently, do you have any OTPs?

DO I EVER?? I have OTP that have been in my heart since I’m 10. And, I mean, by virtue of watching so much QL I have an OTP in every couple I watch get together for 8 to 12 episodes, I’m a big, mushy romantic. Also I will daydream about ships from about anything I watch so…But! My current OTP, the one that owns my heart, that gets me to literally squeal in delight, makes me gasp and cry and twirl my hair while kicking my feet is Nomoto and Kasuga from She loves to cook and she loves to eat!

I love them sooooo much it’d be ridiculous if I had any sort of dignity about that kind of things (I don’t) (*´▽`*)

9. Is there any couple that, to this day, you are extremely mad about not getting together?

Ok you know what? I rewatched some episodes with my mom over my christmas break so I will say yes, Jack O’Neil and Samantha Carter in Stargate:SG1. Yeah, yeah I don’t care that he is her commanding officer and blablabla.

After all this teasing, damn, we could have gotten a little something something when the team finally breaks alright?

10. Is there any ship you used to dislike but now you think they are kind of interesting?

I can’t really think of anything right now to be honest… I feel like anything I’d feel strongly enough to remember I would still dislike now, though, to be frank.

11. Do you have any ship that, in the past, was considered normal but now you would be canceled over?

I guess? I mean, I came to fandom and to QL via yaoi – wich I started reading around 2005, so you can imagine the amount of “problematic” content I enjoyed. Age gaps (I was a HUGE fan of Naono Bohra who like those a lot), power imbalance, dub-con (one of the first yaoi translated in France was Gravitation), and so on and so forth.

12. What was your favorite crack ship?

I can’t answer that one, mainly because I used to have so many of them (I still do, don’t look at me). I got into superheros comics when I was something like 18 and I did RP with a friend where looking back, it seems like our main game was to pair everyone no matter how silly it might have been. I guess in those, I still have a fondness for everything we did that crossed the DC/Marvel divide. We also played a lot with those random ship generators? They gave you two characters and you tried to find a way to make it work. I still like those!

13. Who is the couple you read more fanfics of?

Across all of time?? I… have no idea… like really none. Recently, it’s probably any variations of 3zuns from The Untamed, but for the early years I could not say.

14. What most of your ships usually have in common?

The love I have for them (*¯︶¯*)

Joke aside, I’m not sure? I’m a simple creature, I’m easily swayed, if there is something compelling in the dynamic, I will be interested. I like them sweet but I also have pretty toxic ships, so I think the main thing for me is that there is something interesting going on that makes me want to root for them and/or think about them and how they work together.

15. What do you absolutely hate in a ship?

I need to believe there is a way for them to genuinely love each other. But sometimes, ~the vibes~ just feel rancid to me and I can’t get into it, I can’t explain more than that ^^”

I'll tag, if you feel so inclined: @benkaaoi @troubled-mind @bengiyo @gillianthecat @iguessitsjustme and @heretherebedork

Jury Duty

Fandom: The Nanny

Genre: Romance/Humor/Comfort

Pairing: Fran Fine/C.C. Babcock

Rating: M

Summary: C.C. has been called to jury duty, and Fran decides to come along, placing C.C. in a very uncomfortable position considering the feelings she has been harboring for the nanny the last four years. To make matters worse, there's only one room left in the hotel.

Word Count:  2,826

Author’s Note: My first fic in six years, folks! I am currently neck deep in The Nanny hyper fixation, Fran x C.C. in particular, and I was inspired by my lovely friends and fellow shippers to write my first fic in years and very first fic for this pairing! Boy, have I come a long way since my Fran/Maxwell fanfic on Quizilla.com when I was 14-years-old. Interwoven with canon from S04E17: Samson, He Denied Her. Please enjoy!

This fic can also be found here on AO3.

“What’s that?”

“That’s...the nanny.”

_______

C.C. rolled onto her stomach, burying her face into her pillow, and groaned, the coolness of her satin pillowcase warming to match her body temperature a bit too quickly for her liking. As she shifted, contemplating whether to get up or relegate herself to a day in bed, ignoring all responsibility and...other stressors, an orange-brown fluff next to her feet growled.

Damn dog.

In order to prevent the mongrel from biting at her ankles, C.C. slowly pulled her legs up towards her chest before gently removing the covers, pushing herself up into a seated position, and scooting to let her legs hang off the side of the bed. She sighed and looked at her alarm clock.

5:30 AM

She had one of those dreams again. She was rarely the type to dream, but somehow her subconscious had been invaded by the intrusive thoughts she routinely pushed away during her waking hours. Sparkling red, a hand on her waist, her own hand tangled in a large nest of brown hair, and the recalled scent of scratch-and-sniff magazine perfume flashed through her mind before she could prevent it. She groaned again--loudly--and a retort, almost indistinguishable from her own guttural sound, emitted from the ball of fluff.

C.C. let out one more sigh before standing with renewed intention to have a good, productive day. She would bury her nose--and her mind--in her work. No one could get in the way of her and her job. She was the C.C. Babcock. She made her way to the kitchen and started her coffee maker. While she waited, she opened an envelope that she had left sitting on the table and froze, defeated.

_______

C.C. barged into Maxwell Sheffield’s office, ignoring the skip in her chest when she caught the image of brown, black, red, and white in her peripheral, accompanied by that--against all odds--alluring scent.

“Maxwell, you are not gonna believe this. I have been summoned for jury duty! Well, that is the last time I vote.”

The blur came closer. “Ms. Babcock, maybe I’ll go be on that jury with you.”

C.C. covered her panic with a chuckle. “Nanny Fine, you can’t just go.” This was it. The perfect moment for a witty jab. That would help. “It’s not like Supercuts.”

“Are you kidding? I’ve got a drawer full of those things. Besides, there’s nothing keeping me here.” Fran glared at Maxwell, and C.C. silently stepped out of the office as she heard the man’s voice raise, only making out an exasperated, “Ms. Fine!”

_______

“Oh I’ve just gotta get on this jury!”

As Fran blabbed on, C.C. tried not to focus on how close together they were sitting and how she could still feel the heat from the nanny’s hand on her knee, even after she had removed it. As Fran handed her a book, C.C. was given another chance at a jab. She gasped theatrically.

“You know him?”

“No. You read?”

Fran snatched the book out of C.C.’s hand, and C.C. laughed, the awareness of her leaning closer to Fran escaping her.

_______

“What do you mean there’s just one room left?” C.C. growled at the hotel receptionist.

The receptionist looked at the tall, blond woman towering above them nervously. “I-uh I’m sorry, ma’am, there are no other rooms available. Just the one.”

“But we have two people--” Fran gently placed her hand on C.C.’s shoulder and stepped in between her and the distressed receptionist.

“Are there two beds?” she asked, smiling.

“Y-yes,” the receptionist said hesitantly and then, more assured after calming down, “Yes, there are two beds.”

“See Babs? No harm, no foul,” Fran said brightly, squeezing C.C.’s shoulder as she reached over the counter to take the room key. As they walked towards their room, Fran went on and on about the plot of the romance novel she had shoved in C.C.’s hands earlier. C.C. focused on her breathing, trying to remain calm. She could feel the heat creep up her neck the moment the kid at the desk said they only had one room available, and now she didn’t even have to look to know she had red blotches all over her chest and cheeks. She couldn’t distinguish between her anger and...fear? No. C.C. Babcock was never scared.

“So then when he pulls her in--” holding the book close to her chest, Fran twirled around to face C.C. as she continued walking down the hallway backwards. “Ms. Babcock? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” C.C. responded curtly.

“You’re not having an allergic reaction, are you?” Fran rushed up to her and lifted her hand to examine C.C.’s face as she spoke. “You gotta be careful with shellfish! You know, my cousin, Ernie, never had an allergic reaction in his life. One day, 40 years old, he ate one fried shrimp and BAM --”

C.C. slapped Fran’s hand away, “I’m fine.” Her heart was racing.

“Okay, okay, sorry Mrs. Hyde.” Fran threw her hands in the air, and C.C. could have sworn she gave a tiny pout as she turned around and continued towards their room. When she opened the door, she paused, pulled it back to her, and turned. “You know, Ms. Babcock, we should celebrate! How about a drink? A whiskey. Bourbon. On me.” She winked then stood up straight with a stern look on her face, “ Well. Not top shelf.”

“Nanny Fine,” C.C. uttered through gritted teeth, “I just want to--” she pushed past Fran and opened the door “--lie down.” She stopped in the doorway, still as if she had come face-to-face with Medusa herself.

One bed stood in the room.

_______

The first night was somewhat tolerable. Fran was very kind to C.C., ensuring she was comfortable and that she did not take up too much of her space. C.C. reciprocated by keeping her distance as well. Falling asleep was another story. C.C. was the first to lie down. Being on the side of the bed facing the bathroom, she saw the nanny walk out, wearing one of her bathrobes. God, I hope she has something under that. She could hear the shuffling of the fabric as Fran let the robe fall to the floor and felt the weight in the bed shift as the other woman settled in. Before she could make sense of what was happening, she felt two swift pats on her hip. “Goodnight, Ms. Babcock!”

“Hm,” was the only confirmation she could utter.

C.C. was hyper aware of Fran’s presence. She measured the woman’s breathing and could tell by the slower, deeper breaths when she fell asleep. It took her a while to close her eyes. Every time she did, she saw Fran’s hand on her knee…

Her shoulder…

Her hip…

C.C. jolted awake from a half-sleep. She sighed and stared at the wall in the dark. The blackout curtains weren’t closed all the way, and she could see a sliver of light flash on the wall every once in a while. She could hear sirens, car horns, distant yelling, and sometimes a drunken laugh. She didn’t know what time it was, but it felt like she had been drifting in and out of almost-sleep for hours, still aware of the body radiating heat and energy next to her. What is it about Fran Fine? was the last thought that crossed her mind before she drifted into a very, very light sleep.

_______

C.C.’s eyes traveled down Fran’s figure as she stood up when Vincenzo approached the stand, her expression a mixture of endearment and bewilderment. Why her?, a question echoing the sentiment from the night before repeating in her mind. The rest of the day in the courtroom was filled with typical annoyances, with the exception of a moment of outburst from Fran that left C.C. with the sting of an emotion she couldn’t quite place in the moment as she softly pulled Fran’s arm down.

_______

The next day, C.C. pinpointed the emotion as Fran spoke. “See, that is what happens when a man tells you that he loves you and then he takes it back.”

Jealousy.

C.C.’s face was still until she realized her arms were full of snacks that Fran had been piling onto her.

“What are you looking for?”

“My Dexatrim,” Fran responded.

C.C. rolled her eyes and stuffed the food back into Fran’s bag, the thought popping into her mind again. Why her?

_______

She was exhausted. Eight days, hardly any sleep, and “a horse is a horse, of course, of course” stuck in her head practically 24/7, C.C. wanted to explode when she read the words on the slip of paper, “And one ‘not guilty’…,” followed by Fran convincing another juror to vote “not guilty.” Every time she thought she was going to escape her personal hell, she was dragged back down. She was Sisyphus, and Nanny Fine was her boulder.

C.C. stood. “Could it be that you’re just a little sensitive to this shrew maid because you have some fantasy of ending up with your employer yourself?”

Sting.

“Let she who is without fantasy cast the first stone!”

Ohh, if only you knew, Nanny Fine!

The rest of the afternoon was full of more sting as Fran not-so-subtly talked about Maxwell and the children, but at least they were finally done. C.C. could go home and try to put this all behind her.

As they walked out of the courtroom, Fran hooked her arm through C.C.’s and cheerfully said, “I have a proposal.”

“And what would that be, Ms. Fine?”

“I propose we take one more night off. You know, eat, drink, relax, before heading back to work.”

“Nanny Fine, I really--”

“Pleeease Ms. Babcock?” Fran pleaded, stopping and tugging on her arm. C.C. looked into Fran’s eyes: earnest, gentle, kind.

That’s why her. “Well, alright.”

“You know, I really feel like this has been a good bonding experience for us.”

C.C. rolled her eyes...and couldn’t help but smile.

_______ 

 She wasn’t drunk, but she did feel a little tipsy. A little more relaxed. She and Fran were making their way back to their room after a pleasant evening of food and a couple drinks each. The nanny really was good company, when C.C. let herself enjoy it. C.C. settled into what she had established as her side of the bed for the previous eight nights, lying on her back and staring at the ceiling. Her blond hair pooled on the feather pillow under her head. She could hear the sink faucet turn on. A couple of splashes. Off. The towel being pulled off the rack. C.C. tore her eyes from the ceiling to the bathroom door. Fran walked out and, as she walked around to her side of the bed, began to untie her robe. C.C. didn’t take her eyes off of her. Fran wasn’t wearing anything particularly risqué--why would she be--but the loose fitting, thin material that made up her pajamas hung on her perfectly. C.C. could feel her neck and cheeks getting warm again--a nightly routine for her body at this point--and she turned over to hide. Her head was reeling with the influx of emotions she had felt over the last week, a mental Rolodex: anxious, longing, annoyed, jealous, hopeful...hurt.

“Nanny Fine?” She wasn’t sure if Fran had fallen asleep.

“Yeah, Babs?”

Her heart skipped.

“Why…” she turned over to face the nanny. “Why do you put up with it?”

Fran had been facing the other way. She turned over. The bedside table lamp hadn’t been turned off yet. C.C. was able to look into the other woman’s eyes again.

“Put up with what?”

“Maxwell. He...well, obviously he isn’t willing to give you what you want. Why hold out hope?”

“Why do you?” Fran retorted with a hint of defensiveness.

C.C. was silent for a moment. “I think I’ve confused myself.” Oh god, how much did I have to drink? “I don’t think what I really desire is what...I thought I desired.” I don’t feel drunk.

Fran maintained eye contact. Silent. Almost as if she knew. C.C. cast her gaze down. She felt a hand on her shoulder.

“Why do you act so hard?” the woman said. The words were accusatory but the tone was soft and empathetic. Despite her attempts to keep them at bay, C.C. could feel the sting of tears and a lump in her throat. “Oh, Ms. Babcock,” Fran whispered, slowly rubbing the blond’s shoulder with her thumb. “You really are a wonderful, caring woman. You just won’t let others see it. Like you’re protecting yourself from something.” Earnest, gentle...kind.

That’s why her.

“You hurt others before they can hurt you.”

C.C. looked back into Fran’s eyes. Up to this point, she thought her jabs had all been in jest. “Have I hurt you?”

Fran laughed. “Oh, honey. It takes more than what you can throw to hurt me.” C.C. sniffled. “But listen. I was holding out hope for Mr. Sheffield because the other person I noticed--the strong, loyal, brilliant woman who crossed my path every day--didn’t treat me the way I deserve to be treated.” Before C.C. could interject, Fran continued. “Now, that’s not to say he’s a saint. Faaaar from it, missy. But you, Babs. I see a lot of potential in you, but you gotta soften up that thing you got in that chest of yours.”

“I...don’t--half the time, I don’t even know what I’m feeling,” the words started escaping from her lips, betraying every cell in her body, every natural inclination she had. At least what she thought up to this point was natural for her. “When I first saw you, four years ago, in that sparkling red dress...the way you moved, the way you talked, your confidence, god I felt so...so intensely jealous. But...four years later, and I can’t get that image of you out of my head. Just you. Not Maxwell.”

Fran lifted her hand to wipe a tear from C.C.’s face then back to her shoulder. She felt the woman’s hand travel from her shoulder down her arm…

Her waist…

Her hip…

Then she tugged.

C.C. placed her hand on the brunette’s waist as she was pulled in, the many inches between them closed. She gasped, and her breathing became uneven. She could feel the flush in her cheeks as she glanced down at Fran’s lips, which she now noticed were coming closer...and closer. She had kissed people before. Plenty of times. But Fran’s lips felt like home. They were soft and warm, moving in tandem with her own. The perfect fit. C.C. moved her hand up Fran’s side, taking note of every inch of her curvature, until she was able to tangle her hand in that nest of beautiful, brown hair. Every breath she took in between kisses was filled with that wonderfully intoxicating scratch-and-sniff perfume scent, and in the moments a soft, nasally moan escaped from the nanny’s lips, C.C.’s hips pushed forward and she moaned in return. Fran coaxed C.C. onto her back with a gentle but firm push and straddled her, not letting their lips part for more than a second. C.C. put both hands on each of Fran’s hips as Fran began to leave a trail of kisses down C.C.’s neck…

Her collarbone…

Her chest…

This is better than being drunk...

_______

C.C. finally got the rest she needed. She woke up from a deep sleep and could feel the tangling of sheets around her body. As she began to shift, she felt a heavy weight on her legs and her waist. A quiet, gravely moan emitted next to her ear. As C.C. rolled over, Fran shifted but didn’t move her leg or her arm. Instead, she tightened her grip and pulled the woman closer. C.C. caressed Fran’s face as her eyes fluttered open.

“Mornin’, Babs baby.”

“Morning, Fran,” C.C. said with a smile and placed a sweet kiss on the nanny’s lips.

_______

Hand-in-hand, C.C. and Fran walked up to the desk in the hotel lobby to check out. The receptionist from their first night was working that morning. Fran smiled and slid the key across the counter, while C.C. took out her credit card to pay for all the unexpected nights.

“Good morning, ladies! Hope you enjoyed your stay. Did the pull out couch work out alright?” the receptionist asked.

Fran and C.C. exchanged glances and both blurted, “The what?”

Scripted - Yahya x Black OC

Sweet Thang- Chapter 3

One-shot: By the Open Fire

Chapters: 1 2 

Warnings: Language

Word Count: 2,003

Two months later

Candace finished her last night at Dynasty and vowed to never return. She had collected enough money to support the remaining tuition payments, graduation fees and the application fee for Yale’s School of Drama. March had snuck upon her and her application was due in a month for the 2012-2013 school term. The process was daunting because this was the only M.F.A program she planned to apply to and she prayed this wasn’t a mistake. Yale was her dream school and though she was the type to have a plan B, C and Z, she was gambling on her resume and audition tapes.

Yahya had already made one visit to Los Angeles, since he met Candace at Dynasty. He was collecting unemployment and attending acting classes to get more experience to add to his resume. They had talked about his plan moving forward and Yahya was enjoying acting so much, he planned to apply to Yale as well. Candace had convinced him to live a little and follow his heart and talent. Even if his application was denied, he would have the experience and could apply to another program. During their acting class, Candace was surprised by Yahya’s natural talent in theatre. He deeply connected with the scripts and scenarios and she was in awe of how he could change his entire persona to fit the character. Candace wouldn’t admit it, but her attraction to Yahya was growing. Not only was he physically attractive, but his sensitivity and thoughtfulness made him appealing. He was also attracted to Candace and took his time getting to know her, while also respecting her space after her breakup. 

Another acting coach was in town and Yahya made the trip to LA to attend a session with Candace. It had been two weeks since his last visit and he was eager to get into another class and spend time with his friend. They decided to meet at Candace’s apartment and ride to their class together. 

“Do you think this man will make us cry on cue or what,” Candace joked, flipping on her turn signal to take the exit off the expressway. 

“It’s called the Degree of Emotion, I’m sure we’re crying in this class,” Yahya chuckled, scrolling through his email for job postings. Right now, he was living off of unemployment and his savings, he would need a job sooner rather than later. 

“I can’t cry on cue. It takes a bit of coaching to get me there. Hopefully this class can give me some pointers,” Candace revealed. 

Dr. Ben Mayer, renowned acting coach to many in the industry and professor at Julliard, was standing in the middle of the stage when the students arrived. As they walked into the class, he recited an excerpt from the Odyssey. His heavy voice carried throughout the theatre, capturing everyone’s attention before they reached their seats. Yahya grabbed Candace’s hand, helping her down the dark theatre stairs and to the front row. 

“Welcome to the Degree of Emotion. I’m Dr. Ben Mayer, your instructor for today. Please use the first two rows. Don’t be shy, I don’t bite,” the instructor ordered, pointing to the empty seats in front of the stage. “Today, I’ll be working with you on how to convey emotion with your voice, body language and expressions. Many that come into this field think showing emotion is only about crying or showing sadness onscreen or onstage. Emotion is more than that though. Anyone can be trained to cry on cue but what about that makes you feel like the character you’re portraying. Are you stepping into your character’s shoes or simply putting on a hat? Stepping into the shoes is more powerful and more fulfilling than putting on a hat. You walk in shoes and feel them out. So, I’m going to teach you how to do that.” 

For the second half of the class, the group split up into groups of two and practiced different scripts. Dr. Mayer watched each group and offered criticism and advice. Candace was in Yahya’s group and they were supposed to be performing a piece about a couple who hit a rough patch. She felt good about this particular script because of her recent breakup but to her surprise, her performance fell flat for Dr. Mayer. He told her she was wearing a hat instead of stepping into Charlotte’s shoes and she had a lot to work on when it came to emotional acting. 

That criticism stuck with Candace and ate at her for the remainder of the class. The second half of the course was in three weeks, where they would perform their scenes in front of their peers. 

“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Yahya proposed as they walked to a near-by coffee shop. 

“I can handle criticism. It’s being told I don’t convey emotion that bugs me. No instructor has ever said that and here I am trying to get into Yale not conveying enough fuckin’ emotion,” Candace spat between her teeth. Being a perfectionist ended up being her downfall in many things. She believed in being perfect at her crafts, which is how she ended up in extra acting classes outside of her regular theatre courses. “Are my emotions not believable, Yah?” 

“That’s coming from one instructor. We all have different ways of approaching this acting thing. But if you want to work on it, I’m here for a couple of more days. We can practice. No biggie.”

“I don’t know why I’m this bothered about this shit. But I’m going to give his ass emotion next time,” she promised, tossing her curls behind her ear. 

-------

Trinity was out studying with some friends, leaving the apartment free for acting practice and a late brunch. Yahya was on fruit duty, while Candace made waffles and turkey bacon. 

“What do you think is holding you back,” Yahya questioned, glancing over at his acting partner who was concentrating on whisking the lumps out of her pancake mix. 

“Fear of failure. I think too much when it comes to certain scenes and end up closing myself off,” she replied after a few long seconds of silence. “That’s my only explanation. After all that stuff with Maxwell, it got worse, I guess.” 

“I did this class in San Fran and the instructor had us doing meditation before we got to the acting. Maybe you can try that when you have those hard scenes. It helped me because I get too into my own head at times, too,” he offered, wiping his hands on a towel. “For now.... I need you to relax.” 

Once Candace felt Yahya’s strong hands on her shoulders, she could have melted into a puddle in the middle of the kitchen floor. He massaged the tense muscles and rested his chin on top of her head. She hummed in relief, leaning back into his big body. 

“Instead of thinking about how you can hide Dr. Mayer’s body, think about how you can prove him wrong. Put all that anger into Charlotte because she needs you in order to come alive.” 

“Okay,” Candace sighed. 

“Let’s try meditation first,” he suggested, leading Candace to the living room. “Try to get you nice and relaxed before we start.” 

They meditated for ten minutes before returning to the kitchen to clear up counter space. 

“Ready?” Yahya nodded towards his scene partner and earned a nervous nod in response. 

Charlotte and Tyreik - TAKE ONE

“You’ve changed, Ty. Changed in ways you may not realize but I see it. Hell, I feel it too. When we supposedly make love and you aren’t present...you fill me up but you feel empty,” Candace spoke, shifting her weight from hip to hip. Playing Charlotte made her nervous for some reason. Maybe it was her own fear of opening up to another man after having her heart stomped to pieces by Maxwell. Like Charlotte, she no longer wanted to be a doormat to anyone, especially the opposite sex. 

“You sure you even know how to feel anymore,” Yahya replied, pretending to cut invisible vegetables on the cutting board. 

“Excuse me?” 

“You can’t stand here and tell me you feel a thing, Char. I’ve been trying to talk to you about our relationship for months. But you’re always busy or too tired. So yeah....I’ve changed.” 

The conversation was similar to one she had with Maxwell, except the roles were reversed. Like Yahya suggested, she dug deeper to find that spark that would turn on the switch. 

“Because you talk at me. Yelling isn’t talking and it won’t get my attention,” she shot back, narrowing her eyes. “And the only reason you’re even talking is because you feel guilty.” 

Yahya slammed his hands against the the cold, marble countertop, causing Candace to flinch. “Are we still stuck on that shit? I apologized, you accepted, it’s done. Stop bringing up old shit to hide your own insecurities.” 

“We.... then why are we pretending this is what we both want? If we’re this unhappy, why are we doing this,” she mumbled, her eyes falling down to her feet. 

“I don’t know. Maybe because we’re both afraid to let go of what’s familiar to us. I’m your first love and you’re my first long time relationship. Hard to let go of something you worked hard to keep going all these years.”

Dig deep, Candace. Thinking back to how she felt about Maxwell and his unborn child, Candace’s eyes began to water. “I want this to work, Ty. I really do,” she sniffed. Yahya’s eyes met hers and he tried to stay in character but he couldn’t hide how proud he was the moment he saw his advice working for Candace.  

“I do too. But you have to let go of shit if you claim you forgive me,” Yahya moved in closer, letting Candace know they were close to the kissing scene. 

“I’ll try,” she offered, her big, brown orbs searching his looking for a hint of Yahya. He rarely broke character, but there was an extra gleam in his eyes. This was the first time they had done anything outside of hugging. Yahya was respecting Candace’s space and allowing her to heal after her recent breakup.

 Her heart beat violently against her chest when Yahya’s cologne flooded her senses. His lips became Candace’s main focus as he closed the space between them and placed his mouth on hers. The kiss was brazen, making Candace’s knees weak. Yahya placed his hands on the counter, caging in Candace’s small frame. His 6′3 frame towered over her, forcing him to duck his head down to deepen the kiss when her tongue slid past his. Since that night at the club, he had been waiting to kiss Candace’s lips. Just as he thought, they were as soft as pillows and the urge to take things to the next level invaded his thoughts.

Heat rose to Candace’s cheeks before spreading down to her belly, meeting the butterflies that were already dancing. Their scripts were long forgotten and they were well past the point of blaming their actions on their characters. Candace’s fingers toyed with the hem of Yahya’s shirt. They were both breathless when they pulled a part and Candace didn’t give Yahya time to catch his thoughts before her lips were back on his, fighting for dominance. Yahya’s shirt ended up on the kitchen floor, exposing his sculpted but slender mid-section. It was dangerous, yet neither one of them stopped it. The sexual tension had been strong from the moment they met and given the current circumstances, it was boiling over. From the slight touches and long gazes, hormones were bound to get them in this predicament. Yahya’s lips left hers and traveled to her neck, where they stayed, creating love bites.

“Do you want me to stop,” he questioned, his baritone causing a vibration between their bodies. The thumping between her ears and thumping between her legs had Candace’s mind swimming in circles. 

Sorry for the wait and short chapter. We will get A LOT more Yahya and Candace in the next one though!

taglist: @blackburnbook @emjayewrites @just-peachee @chaneajoyyy​

I would love a prompt of C.C. realising she is younger than Fran. And how our Niles reacts, of course :P

@missbabcocks1 Here we are, at last, my bestie! I hope this was everything you were expecting when you requested it!

But also, oh my God, I am so far behind on all these prompts! I’m so sorry everyone’s been waiting - work keeps me very busy! I will try to do more, more often, to get through them! I need to get back on track a bit, even though I work full time now. Besides, it will be good - who doesn’t love hearing about these two idiots and their adventures?

Niles had to say, there was something extremely pleasantabout C.C. having been told to go on maternity leave. In the days after thewhole extended clan had arrived in California, there had been so much work todo – particularly for both his wife and Mr. Sheffield at the studios – that itseemed as though neither one of them would get a break!

Fortunately, a small miracle had happened and Maxwell had,over the course of some months (as opposed to his usual years), noticed thatthe load was really too much for her to handle. Studio work, even forproducers, didn’t lend itself to anything apart from being on one’s feet allday when shooting and the rounder her belly grew, the more it was starting tobecome a concern whenever a live set inspection or meeting was called.

It was a relief for the butler when their employer hadfinally told her to simply rest at home for the remainder of her pregnancy. Notthat C.C. hadn’t put up a fight, of course. She seemed to have a constant worrythat things just wouldn’t get done if she wasn’t there to make sure of it, andfor the first long, few weeks, she hadn’t been able to help swinging wildly ona pendulum back and forth between “on edge and anxious” and “bored out of hermind”.

That was why Niles had done everything he could to keep heroccupied, which was what he found so pleasant about it, in truth. Having her athome meant that they got to spend more time together, just as they would’vedone had they still been at the mansion back in New York. They’d read books,watched movies, tossed playful remarks back and forth as he went about hischores – the works. He’d even bring lunch right to her lap if she was feelingtoo tired or uncomfortable to move.

As time moved forward and C.C. settled further into hermaternity leave, her worries seemed to settle as well. Not that they went awaycompletely, of course, but enough so that she could actually enjoy herself andnot think about working all of the time.

Not that she didn’t find some of that to do around themansion, as well. The office always had things that needed clearing, filing or reworkingand it wasn’t as though Maxwell would ever get around to it. So, C.C. had takenit upon herself to do a little bit of administration work, every once in awhile, whenever she felt the boredom creeping up on her again.

She had clearly felt the urge a little while after Niles hadbrought her lunch, because when he returned to the living room with his own sandwich(he’d cooked the bacon for this BLT to perfection, in his mind), her plate fromher meal was clean and she had retrieved another box.

She was sat going through the papers inside it, a greatCheshire Cat-like grin stretching across her gorgeous face.

He loved to see her looking so happy, even if it did alsointrigue him. What could she have found in that box that had made her sopleased? He could even hear her chuckling a little bit under her breath…!

Well, there wasn’t anything like having a little bit oftheir usual fun to ask her what was going on…

He sauntered over, allowing a grin to start to curl at thecorners of his mouth.

“You’re looking awfully chipper. Did Mr. Sheffield call tosay that he’s fired someone you hate?”

C.C. looked up and smiled at him brightly, “Better.”

“Oh,” he blinked in return, coming to stand over where shewas sat on the sofa, craning his neck a little to take a look at what she wasdoing. “Two people?”

C.C. half-rolled her eyes at him. He didn’t take itpersonally – he knew it was all part of the fun.

“No one’s been fired, Scrubbing Bubbles,” she told him. “Ijust happen to have stumbled upon an excellent piece of news.”

“Is that so?” Niles’ eyebrow raised and he leaned in towardsher, elbows resting on the back of the sofa. “Would you care to share thisexcellent piece of news with your now-very-curious husband?”

His wife pretended to think about it, before another verypleased grin began to spread itself on her lips.

She practically purred her answer, “I might, for a littlequid pro quo…”

That was an answer Niles always enjoyed hearing. He wasbasically finished for the day, not including dinner, which he could easily putoff for another couple of hours or so.

And he was sure he knew the perfect way to spend them.

“Well, you know I am always happy to scratch your back, ifyou scratch mine…”

His motion to lean down and plant a kiss on her lips wasinterrupted at the very last second, when C.C.’s hand darted out and she pickedup his sandwich off his plate, taking a bite out of it and putting the restback.

She chewed for a while, during which Niles could only try tostammer out a protest but fail, eventually just letting his jaw drop and hangthere for a moment until she was done and ready to speak.

She dusted her hands off as she picked up the paper she’dbeen reading, “Now, you wanted to know what I’ve been looking at.”

Niles frowned in slight annoyance at his plate, “Yes, and Icould’ve enjoyed one whole, complete sandwich to go along with it…”

C.C. rolled her eyes, trying to look unimpressed but notreally managing to conceal her amusement.

“I’ll make it up to you later,” she said in a voice that luckilypromised it without using those words, before going back to the paper. “Youwanna see what I’ve found here or not?”

After a moment, Niles sighed.

“Alright, you’ve got me. What is it?”

“There’s the yenta I know and love,” his wife grinned,gesturing proudly at all her hard work. “I’ve been refiling and reorganisingall the household legal documents. The Sheffields’ and ours.”

“Both sets?” Niles quirked an eyebrow, surprised. “Shouldn’twe leave the Sheffields’ files for them to sort out?”

C.C.’s grin dropped away from her face and she gave him ALook. They both knew exactly what it meant, too – he had just been so takenaback by it in the heat of the moment that the answer hadn’t really registeredto him.

The Look meant something along the lines of “Who are youkidding, Butler Boy? Since when have the Sheffields ever done anything that wecould do for them?” mixed in equal combinations with “Would you trust Maxwellor Fran Sheffield to do something like organise and keep legal documents?”.

He could only really nod in return, once the understandinghad settled in properly.

“Good point,” he said, turning his attention back to thepapers. “What did you find? I’m assuming, of course, that your good news comesfrom one of these pages.”

“You’d assume correctly, lover,” she lifted one single sheetof paper out of her lap so that he could see. “Check this out.”

Setting his sandwich down on the one clear patch on thecoffee table, Niles took and peered at the document.

His eyes then went back to his wife, “It’s a copy of MrsSheffield’s birth certificate.”

His immediate thought was to ask why she had been looking atthat particular piece of paper in the first place, but it was almostimmediately interrupted by the rest of his brain asking him who he thought hewas kidding. Fran’s birth certificate was a closer and more heavily guardedsecret than the contents of the Vatican archives; he would’ve looked withouthesitation, if he’d been the one doing the filing.

They both already knew that C.C. knew this, too. There wassomething especially warming in that – they knew each other, inside and out, andknew exactly when the other would be interested in something they’d found.

“Mm-hm,” she hummed pleasantly, as smug as a cat who’dgotten both the cream and the canary. “Notice anything about it?”

Niles studied the certificate carefully, looking for the onepiece of information that she could be talking about. There was one reasonnobody ever saw this paper, and it was the one thing they’d both truly wonderedabout their friend for as long as they’d known her.

Of course, he had the information that she was in the sameclass as Val at school, who had accidentally let slip one time how old she was,but there was something more concrete about seeing the proof firsthand. Rightthere in front of him, on the official piece of paper that recorded Fran’s birthday.Besides, what if Val also lied about her age (poorly, compared to MrsSheffield, but even so)? Or what if the hastily-used excuse that Val kept beingheld back turned out to be true (because, well, come on)?

It didn’t take long to find.

In the butler’s mind, he’d more than half imagined that herbirth date would look…off, compared to other people’s. That was, he’d thoughtthere would be a day and a month, but no year. His sense of logic had steppedin in the moments he’d thought that and told him not to be ridiculous – itwould be scribbled out with a pen, or redacted, like an important militaryrecord, or the dates and locations of stories that authors wanted to representas “real life” in Victorian literature.

But, much to his surprise, neither of those things weretrue. The date was there, in full.

And his eyes could only widen at the number printed on thatpage.

“No…!” he exclaimed in some disbelief, incredulous at havingthe proof positive there in his hands. “It can’t really be true! Surely…!”

“Oh, yes,” C.C. was on the verge of chuckling in puredelight, clasping her hands together in glee. “Our good, perpetuallytwenty-nine-year-old friend, is at the same time, somehow older than I am!”

As if to illustrate her point and celebrate at the sametime, she began to half-dance in her seat, shimmying her shoulders from side toside and wiggling her hips as much as her belly would allow.

Niles watched in amusement, his hand dropping away with thepaper still in it.

“You really are pleased with yourself for finding this,aren’t you?” he asked, mostly rhetorically because the answer was obvious toanybody who had working eyes.

His wife scoffed, still in the middle of her dance number, “Likeyou’re not happy to have finally fully solved the mystery! I’m surprised youdidn’t do this back when she first started at the-oof!”

Suddenly, she flinched, doubling over and clutching at herstomach, halting her in her seated tracks.

In an instant, the butler tossed the paper back into the pileand flew to her side, seating himself next to her as alarm bells immediatelywent off in his head, loud and ringing like the end of the world was on its way.In his state of dread and panic, an impending apocalyptic event would haveactually been preferable to what he imagined might have been happening.

What was going on? Was something the matter? Was it thebaby?!

“C.C., are you alright?!” he cried out, fear of the worststarting to grip at his heart.

Much to his relief, she took in a few deep breaths andrelaxed, letting her arms slip gently around her stomach.

“Yeah…yeah, I’m fine,” she said, raising an accusing eyebrowat her bump as a faintly entertained smirk made its way onto her lips. “Yourlittle servant spawn must’ve felt my happiness and decided to aim a kick at mylower intestine!”

Niles felt the last of the fear be washed away by the toneof her voice and the look on her face as she rubbed at her belly. She was fine.The baby was fine. Everything was fine. He could calm himself back down.

He could get himself back on track. Besides, he had afeeling that it might distract her from the glee of finding out for definitethat she was younger than Fran, and they’d all be allowed to go on with theirdays.

He pulled her into an embrace, settling one of his hands ontop of her stomach and patting it lovingly.

“Getting creative at running rings around you, even from inthe womb,” he beamed proudly. “We have a little prodigy on our hands already.”

C.C.’s half-smirk blossomed into a full one, “And you’ve gotyourself a little clone.”

Niles slid his hand over her belly, taking her hand andentwining their fingers, “You say that as though it were a bad thing.”

She pretended to think about it in return, exaggerating alook of contemplation and using her free hand to tap at her chin.

“Essentially having two of you around the place? Now, why onEarth would I think that was a bad idea…?”

He slid as close as he possibly could in response, leaningin so that his nose was nearly brushing hers.

“You wouldn’t. You love me too much for that…”

C.C.’s slightly hitched breath was warm against his skin, “Maybe.”

Niles felt the corners of his mouth twitching upwards, “Alittle.”

His wife played at being stubborn, “Sorta.”

It was at this point that the butler knew he’d won the game,“Kinda.”

He felt his lips brush against hers, before C.C. pulled awayjust enough to give him a teasing look.

“If our kid turns out to be as big a sap as you…” she lookedlike she was trying to think of a good threat, but came up with nothing.Instead, she simply shook her head. “I really have no idea what I’ll do.”

“I imagine you’ll be forced to finally melt and renounceyour throne. Though I have no idea where they’ll find another Ice Queen at suchshort notice…” he closed the gap again and quickly pecked her lips. “Unless, ofcourse, you’ve already melted.”

She was back to smirking again in an instant, in a way thatmade him think she thought she’d caught him out on something.

“You’re not distracting me out of it.”

Niles’ brow furrowed, “Out of what?”

“Being happy for my little age victory over Nanny Fine,” shereplied, poking him lightly in the chest.

The butler felt his face fall. Damn, she really was good. It truly did go to show just howwell they knew what the other was thinking at any given moment…!

Well, all he could hope to try and do now was downplay thewhole situation enough that she might not keep that smirk of hers for weeks onend.

“I hadn’t intended to distract you from that – our littleone did the job for me quite well enough,” he eventually counterpointed. “Besides, whosaid anything about it having to be a competition?”

C.C. seemed slightly put out by his question.

“No one, but I don’t think it would kill anybody toacknowledge it.”

Niles bit back a frown. She did have a point; she wasyounger, and she had every right to be able to say so. Many years’ worth of“old” and “ancient” jokes could easily be deflected away without trouble, withthat knowledge out in the open, as well as in mind.

Besides, it wasn’t as though not being twenty-nine tookanything away from Fran. Their friend had many things in her life to enjoy andbe proud of, and her age didn’t have any bearing in any of them.

So, he smiled, giving his wife a kiss on the cheek.

“Alright. We’ll talk about it with her tonight,” he said,before pointing a finger at her, emphasising that he meant what he was about tosay. “Using gentle words, though. You say you don’t think it will kill anybody,but you can never be completely sure.”

C.C., chuckled and grabbed his hand, “As you wish, ScrubBrush.”

The gesture was tender, and her voice amused. She wasagreeing to his terms with neutral feelings, but she was enjoying the fact that hewas being so commanding over it.

He couldn’t hold back a smirk over how it wasn’t the firsttime.

“God, I love it when you agree with what I say…” he practicallygrowled, thinking back to her words before about “making it up to him”.

His wife’s eyebrow shot up and she began to grin, clearlyunderstanding, “Hoping to cash in on that promise I made just now, are we?”

Niles pointedly checked his watch in return, “Well, we dohave a few spare hours before anybody is due to arrive home…”

C.C. cast her eyes quickly towards his sandwich, remindinghim it was still there, “What about your lunch?”

The butler studied her for a moment, and then looked atwhere his sandwich was sat waiting, the bacon and lettuce crisp against the soft,cool tomato and the bread cut thick from the loaf he’d bought only that morning.

He reached out, grabbed his prized lunch and took one bite,chewing it rapidly and swallowing before setting it back down and taking hisnow-laughing wife into his arms.

“I’ll finish it later.”

The taste of blood{Part 2}

At the breakfast they told the children about what happened last night to Niles, or at least, Fran did. They fired questions to their butler who was just trying to serve and he, much to Maxwell and Fran’s suprise, told them quickly that everything was alright now. “It was just some crazy guy who likes to jump people and bite them, don’t worry, they find him sooner or later“ he said and then proceed to pour milk in Brighton’s glass. “He bit you?“ four voices could be heard at the same time, the whole family Sheffield. Niles almost spilled with the milk jug, put it down with sigh and looked at the big eyes who were staring at him again. „“Yes“ he said simple and not wanting to explain any further, he disappeared into the kitchen. At the meantime the others began to talk about this biting weirdo. “I hope they get him“ Maggie said worried and Gracie nodded, agreeing with her. “He really needs some therapy“. Maxwell was worried about his friend, but didn’t show it and just continued eating. The talk about Niles kept going on in a neutral manner and was already turning into a discussion about people with a screw loose, when Brighton said something all of sudden. “Maybe it was a vampire“. They all looked suprised at him, trying to get what he was talking about. The boy rolled with his eyes. “Niles attacker“. They all started to laugh, even Brighton himself, by the sound of that crazy statement. “Would be-haha-cool-haha-though“ he said trough breezes of laugther and when everyone was done, they all looked at him with asking eyes. “A vampire butler..“ The person in question came back inside, ready to clean the tables and Brighton stopped abrupt. Niles looked afraid and...pale. A silence fell and the family quickly ended their breakfast to do their daily things.

Later, Niles was in his bathroom again, looking at himself. Brighton’s words kept hanging in his head and with a lot of hestitation he opened his mouth again. Everything was normal now, he was sure of it. Slowly he opened one eye and let out a moan. Nope. Still sharp and long. Well, long wasn’t exacltly the right word. Yes, they were longer than they used to be, but mostly pointier. His hand rubbed the bitemark in his neck and a soft sigh left his mouth. “Well, old man. What now?“ he asked himself. A tear dropped on the sink and quickly the rest followed. He was a monster now. One thing was sure...He couldn’t stay. It was too dangerous. Too dangerous for the family, the people he loved. Pondering he sat on his bed, but his mind was made up. When the backer was here and Mister Sheffield and Miss Babcock were busy and Fran was gone to the mall with Val, he would leave. With that decision, he started to pack his things already, but was interruped by his boss voice.

The backer, Evert Rivers, came later than expected, so the kids where back from school and Fran from shopping before Niles could leave the house for good. Tommorow then. No, it was Saturday tommorow and bad weather, so everyone most likely stayed inside. Tonight. Tonight he would go. Yet, when talking with Miss Fine and interacting with Gracie who was telling about some deep matters of life, he started to regret  his decision again. While the Nanny was busy with all the gossiping with Miss Magraret, Niles brain became so full with thoughts, that he couldn’t take it anymore. He let his head fell on the counter and cried for the second time that day. Why him? The two brunettes and two blonds looked at him, suprised. Why was their butler crying all of sudden? “Um..Everything alright, Niles?“ Fran asked, as she walked to him. Niles seemed to suddenly remember where he was and looked up. Quickly he dried up his tears with his sleeve and shaked his head. “I’m fine, no idea what gotten into me“ he mumbled and wanted to make an escape, when Fran grabbed his arm. “Come back“. She led him to a chair and before he could get a change, he was set down. Fran took another chair and her charges also sat down, apart from Brighton, since there was no chair left anymore. Fran wanted to start, but then the bell ringed. Saved by the bell. Niles got up to get it, with an unussual enthusiams about it. Fran sighed. Brighton took Niles place and together with his sisters they tried to change the subject, because they knew that if Niles didn’t want to talk, they shouldn’t push it. He would say it, when he wanted too.

Evert Rivers was not the slimest man in the word, to say so. When the butler opened the door, he was actually taken aback by the big man before him. He offered to take the coat of the man and when taking him off, a good view on the neck was given. Well, for as much you could see of it. Still, it made him hungry, all of sudden. Niles kept standing with the coat in his hands, while Rivers already made it into the livingroom. The blond shook his head, trying to get rid of that weird thought, hanged up the coat and led the man to the office, where Babcock and Sheffield were waiting. Niles didn’t use the opportunity to have a little banter with the witch, as he still didn’t feel good. This to the suprise of C.C, who had actually already fired her first shot when he entered, no reaction was weird. The only time ever happened, was when...He had his heartattack. Worried she looked at him, when he listened to Evert’s wishes for the coffee. He seemed alright though, for what happened. Maxwell had told her, she had been angry with that man who dared to hurt Niles, because only she could do that, but didn’t show it.

Rivers was a jackass, with not a better word for it. Everything was wrong. A heated discussion between him and Babcock took place when Niles came inside with the third round of coffee and he was looking admiring at the dragon lady. Even Maxwell let her go on, not interessed in this man money anymore. It was not that much actually, another backer had a bigger offer for them and he sounded pretty friendly at the phone. Just as he wanted to say that there was not going to be any deal and to try to get the man out of his house, it happened. Evert saw Niles with the coffee, turned to him, took a cup. The wrong one, the black one. Took a sip, spitted it out and threw the rest at Niles. “Even your butler is worthless!“. The other cups followed, the hot lucid landing on Niles’s face. C.C jumped at Rivers, trying to stop him, but Niles was quicker. With a unnatural force he threw the man to the ground and bowed over him. His eyes red all of sudden and a hungry gaze in his eyes. Coffee still dripping from his face and hair, but he didn’t feel it anymore. “Niles“ Maxwell began, yet it was already done. With his mouth spread open, Niles attacked his first victim. His teeth penetrated the thick flesh and blood flowed in his mouth. The taste let him lost all sense of his surroundings and the screams in the room were unhearable for him. He teared the flesh open and blood spouted everywhere. A few shocks went trough the body, then it was done. When Niles noticed it, he came back to his senses. The blue came back into his eyes, who looked shocked at the death man before him. The taste of blood still in his mouth and it still tasted so good. He looked up and saw the whole family looking at him. No...

@missbabcocks1 @holomoriarty @kassandra-lorelei

Welcome (back) to Among Us, FLEUR! EDEN REED ( with the faceclaim of REECE KING ) has found shelter in NEW ATHENS, where we hope HE will fit in nicely. Please make sure to check the “after applying” section of our navigation here!

We got such a good feel for his personality on the surface in the first few answers of the inteview; it’s fascinating to see his whole narcissistic side, and how he really doesn’t care if people want him to shut up: he’ll just talk about himself as much as he wants. Then when we move on to the general background, there is the information that yes, in fact, Eden does care. He just hides it well. He’s a very complex character with obviously much thought behind him.

AND YOU ARE…?

What is your full name, and when were you born?

The man cocked his head, smile on the tip of his lips. “That’s cute, how you’re acting like you don’t know.” He had done his best to ensure that kind of information, his name at least, wouldn’t be lost on those campers. But he was registering for a job hunt, these questions must be mandatory. Sighing, he fell back against his chair, mentally bemoaning how uncomfortable it was. Someone descended from royalty deserved better. “Eden Reed, November first. I’m currently twenty-two — I guess you can do a little math?”

Have you been claimed, or do you belong to a legacy? If yes, state your godly parent / heritage.

“This is the good part, isn’t it?” To him it always was. He had repeated his tale so often he could focus on the other person’s expressions as he talked, delighting in the effect his origin story had on them. “My mother is Angelos, and I know, you haven’t heard of her, don’t hurt your pretty little mouth with those words. She’s a daughter of Zeus and Hera and that, my little bug, makes me royalty.” Even as the interviewer rolled her eyes, Eden wasn’t deterred. “Would you say it doesn’t? Anyway, you’re the ignorant one here, so I’d keep that in mind if I were you. Truth be told, a lot of scholars now seem to think Angelos is another name for Artemis or Hecate — it’s not. I mean, I’d know who my mother is, don’t you think?” he scoffs, head shaking slowly. Mortals and their big mouths. “She’s a chthonic goddess, meaning she resides in and has dominion over the Underworld. Her job mostly has to do with birth and infancy, whether people die through it or because of it. Fun job, huh?”

Where are you currently based? Are you attending a Camp (Half-Blood / Jupiter), or are you living full-time in New Athens / New Rome? Is it a combination of both?

Now it was Eden’s turn to roll his eyes. He truly thought this would be funnier, although why that thought had stuck with him until now, he couldn’t really explain. How come some people had taken so long in there when all these questions could be so easily answered? Perhaps they had been as talkative as he, but even then, the interest level of their pursued conversation wasn’t all that high. “New Athens. Where else? I’m too old for camp, obviously, and since I’m here with you to look for jobs, I’m not from San Fran, am I?” He leaned in, elbows atop his knees, hands clasped together like he would start begging any minute now. “Listen, I know you’re not the one who thought up those questions, and you have to ask them for the file you’re gonna have on me and all — but how dumb can you stand to sound? Can’t you fill that shit in and simply ask us to check? You’ll have your answer anyway but at least it would make me trust your abilities more, you know?”

Can you tell us a little bit about yourself? ( If you’re applying for a canon character, are you diverging from book-canon? If so, how?)

So that was why some people had taken their sweet time. Grinning, Eden sat back, triumphant. “Oh, you’re gonna love this.” The interviewer’s wrinkled nose and scrunched eyebrows showed her disagreement plain as day, but the young man hardly noticed. People always made a face before they got a taste of their new favourite food. “I was born and raised in the Underworld. Not too common, huh? Good thing we had fucking torches there and all ‘cause I’m telling you, the day I got out of there, I thought I would burst from all the visual information. So imagine if I had lived in the dark all my life! You could think, hey, your momma could have left you with your dad, right? That’s what you’re thinking.” She wasn’t. All the poor woman wanted was for this narcissist to stop talking – this question was always her least favourite part. Eden could have noticed all this in a glance, but of course he was too immersed in himself to care. “Thing is, she wasn’t too sure who he was anymore, he hadn’t really mattered. She had had some time for herself for once, made the best of it, and voilà! Then what, you think she’d give me to social services? A lot of ghosts told her not to, they’re great advisers, so she listened. That’s how I grew up with her, something I found out is pretty rare. I’m sorry to say my godly parent loved me more than all of yours combined. Loved me too much, actually: even though the ghostly company I had was fun, they kept talking about the outside world, and I was dying to go. Little Mermaid kind of situation, yeah? For years and years I bugged my mother, but she wouldn’t let me go. She was afraid I wouldn’t come back or get hurt. And I’m her only child, so I can’t be mad at her for being extra careful, you know?”

Even as he says so, he recalls the impression of not being heard, of being branded as too fragile to live his own life. And it’s true he has no ill feelings against Angelos, how could he? Still, the situation had been so tense, he had had to make his escape one way or another. “I was able to leave the Underworld using a disruption. The whole Gaea business was just beginning, there were just some weird problems here and there but we had yet to see them as anything more than that. Now, you know there are several ways to reach Hades, right? Not the guy, I mean the place.” He waited for a nod, started again. “Some kid went there, fucking wild as hell. Didn’t even know what was going on. My mom could tell where I was because it’s easy to spot someone who’s alive in a place where no one’s supposed to be, you know? But that kid was so close to the outside world, she mustn’t have noticed him yet, so I thought ‘hey, Eden, now’s your chance! If you keep the kid here and leave, it’ll be a while before anyone notices!’ Hey, don’t look at me like that!” Alright, he was effectively discussing locking someone in Hades just so he could have his fun. But weren’t the gods and mortals all selfish anyway? Why did people have to act like some sort of saint when they truly weren’t? Tsk, fakers. “He needed something anyway, and I’m not here for charity. Trade is what makes the world go round, so I help him he helps me, right? I just, maybe I forgot to tell him that before ripping his spirit from his body. Wow, okay, I can see you don’t believe me. Or you’re angry? You can’t be angry if you don’t believe. It’s not something I generally do, you know? It was only the disruption that allowed me to do that. I had gotten this ritual dagger from my mom, I never knew what to use it for but suddenly everything made sense! So I used it, hid the kid’s body, and left.” He made it sound easy because it had been; so stupidly simple because even he didn’t fully understand how that had been possible. It was all in the past now, why care about it?

“He’s back to basics now, the kid. Maxwell. My mom found out and I got a serious talking to, but the Underworld was getting even weirder and what do you do with a body? They keep spirits down there, not bodies! Some food of the gods, and he was good to go. Honestly, try any of this shit now and everybody ends up dead, we really got lucky. Besides, you could say it did me good to have a conscience for a while, although I didn’t really notice at first. That earned me some trouble, but overall I spent the best few months of my life up in Camp Half Blood. Made friends, had sleepovers, ate popcorn, got girlfriends… One of them’s still sticking with me, and I’m glad she does because I don’t think I could ever love someone else as much. That’s who I’m living in New Athens with, by the way. Gianna. Our place is below ground, because it doesn’t bother us, as she’s a daughter of Nyx.” He scratched the back of his head, sheepish for the first time. “Should have told you that underground home business after your currently-based question, huh?”

What were you doing prior to The Recall?

Moving on to the next topic brought the chthonic demigod back to himself. He was giddy as a child now, tapping his feet against the ground. His lips were something between a grin and a smirk, and he was positively buzzing with energy again. “I was, get this: a ghostbuster. For real! I put up some ads in the mortal world, and next thing I knew people were really requesting my help. And when I saw the charlatans in that business, the kind of money they asked and all, I also started to ghostbust their ass and give people a list of who not to call if there was something strange in their neighbourhood. And it’s weird, doing something for others, it makes them all happy and grateful and next thing I knew I got even more clients, more money, and I hadn’t even lied to get it! Amazing, right?” Once again, the interviewer didn’t seem to share his excitement. Instead she scribbled something down on her sheet that mustn’t have been very flattering or valuable for potential employers.

“I think we’re done here,” she said finally.

“What, really? What about me then? You’ll get back when you’ve found something, how does this work?”

“You already know what you’re supposed to do. I have no idea why you’re here.” She looked stern with good reason. When Eden, after a pregnant pause, burst out laughing, she had her answer. “What was that all about? Boredom, I suppose?”

“Yeah, I’m sorry — I almost am. Okay, you sort of wasted your time — but did you really? Dare say I wasn’t your most interesting customer today, go on, I’ll wait.”

Rising from her chair, the interviewer walked to the door, nearly unhinging it as she wrenched the door open. “I think we’re done here. Have fun scouting the labyrinth.”

"Just because I'm heartless doesn't mean I don't like chocolate." I know I just asked for a oneshot recently, but I saw this one on a Tumblr prompt blog I follow and it cracked me up because I instantly thought of C.C. I can just see her snarky, sassy self saying this to Niles after some zinger war or something. Ha ha. I know you're working on other stuff, so whenever you get to it I'd love to see what you come up with! ❤️

Here we are, my friend! I am so sorry this took so long, but I’ve been under some stress recently and I’ve had to take my time getting this done

For that Anon waiting for the other prompt I have, I promise you will have it soon, and for everyone waiting on the next chapter of Personal Guardian Demon, I will be getting on it soon as well

@missbabcocks1 @holomoriarty

Valentine’s Day might not have been a cause for celebrationto Niles, given his apparent permanent bachelor status, but that didn’t mean hegot to be away from it. In an ideal world, he would’ve asked for (and gotten) aday off so that he could go out somewhere and perhaps blend in with every otherface in the crowd. In the mansion, he stuck out like a sore thumb – Mr and MrsSheffield would obviously have a romantic meal that evening, Miss Margaret hadgone out with her boyfriend, Master Brighton kept saying he was meeting a girland would be out all day (though he had been sketchy on the details, such asthe girl’s name, how they’d met, where they were going, etc), and Miss Grace wasgoing to the movies with a group of her friends.

Depressingly, even Miss Babcock had managed to get herself adinner date that night. Some businessman or other, as handsome as he was richand twice as charming, no doubt. And that was going to be a lovely thought hismind would conjure up later, when he’d finished washing up after Mr and MrsSheffield’s romantic meal and was busy tucking into the large amount of chocolatethat he’d bought and stashed away in the kitchen for safekeeping.

Of course, he’d teased the producer when she’d told MrSheffield about her plans, just a few days before. It had just been so easy to notethat there was emphasis on “scare” in the phrase “scare up a date”. She hadthen retorted that at least she’d have a date, which might not have been thebest or funniest zinger she’d ever come up with, but in the coldfourteenth-of-February morning light, it felt like a slap in the face.

He’d managed to keep it to himself for the first few hoursof the day. He’d even tried to be in keeping with the Valentine’s theme bycooking the family heart-shaped strawberry pancakes for breakfast and servinghot chocolate to go with it.

But underneath the longer time went on, the more thepleasant exterior felt like what it was – a façade. It was a relief when thefamily dispersed for the time being, the children going off by themselves, MrSheffield and Miss Babcock heading to the office to begin the work day, and MrsSheffield going out shopping “for later”. Niles didn’t bother asking what she wasgoing to buy, it was going to be obvious the next day, when Mr Sheffield camedownstairs with a ridiculous smile on his face.

He must’ve been wallowing in his own misery over the factthat he’d come downstairs the next day to a sink full of dishes and theknowledge that he had to make breakfast for a family of five that wasn’t evenhis, because before he knew it, a hand was being waved his face and he was backin the office.

He’d originally gone in there to do some tidying, and losttrack of the time in thinking. It was just his luck that Miss Babcock happenedto be watching at the same time.

She was clearly delighted to have caught him off-guard aswell, “What’s the matter, Niles? Forget what you came over here for?”

Niles felt a small pang of irritation, which quickly turnedinto a lingering sense of annoyance. Of course she was happy – she knew she hadthe upper hand in every category, as things currently stood. He’d been the onenot paying attention, and no doubt at any moment she’d remind him of the eveninghe had to look forward to.

Alone, whilst she was out somewhere with her businessman,having the time of her life.

He might not have been in the mood for zingers, but one cameanyway.

“I haven’t quite made it to that level of mental deteriorationyet,” he replied drily. “I’m not your age.”

Miss Babcock was quite prepared for the challenge, “I’m gladyou agree that I’m not ancient, unlike certain people in this room!”

“Oh, would you two give it a rest just for today?” Maxwellstepped in from his seated position at his desk before Niles could retort. TheBritish producer had a pink box in his hands, which he opened and pushed acrossthe desk towards them. “I’d much rather have a pleasant Valentine’s Day, ifit’s all the same to you. Fran gifted me these just before she left thismorning – come and have a chocolate, and let’s all get back to work.”

Niles went over, peering into the box. Of course each andevery single chocolate was heart-shaped, he thought to himself bitterly.Perfect for two lovers to feed each other whilst locked in an intimate embrace.

Two lovers, like Miss Babcock and her oh-so-perfect date.

And, without even thinking about it, another insult made itsway from his heart to his mind, and bypassed any kind of filter to come straightfrom his mouth.

“I hope your date tonight remembers chocolates like these,”he told her. “At this rate, it’s the only way you’ll ever have a heart in you.”

The reaction from Maxwell was (surprisingly) loud andimmediate.

“Niles!” the British producer cried, looking back and forthbetween his butler and his business associate. “I told you to pack it in! Whatthe Devil’s gotten into you, Old Man?!”

Niles expected there to be a similar reaction from MissBabcock at any moment – for a grin to appear on her ruby red lips where she wasso pleased their employer had taken her side, and then a smug comment about howyou just couldn’t get the help these days, and if you could, you couldn’t getthe help to shut up.

But those things didn’t happen. Instead, the producer juststood there with neither a smile nor a smart word. She didn’t look angry,either.

In actual fact, Niles could have sworn that she looked upset(or…even hurt?), even if she was trying to hide it.

She gestured lightly to the stack of papers she’d been goingthrough before, abandoned on the green loveseat, “Maxwell, those contracts arefinished. I’m gonna take a long lunch break.”

Without another word, she turned and left the office.

After being reprimanded by Maxwell for not doing as he wastold and leaving the zingers aside for a while, Niles was allowed to carry onwith his work. But the butler couldn’t fully bring himself to do anything ofany actual worth – and that time, it had nothing to do with his perpetualloneliness.

Nothing to do with that, and everything to do with guilt. Hereally and truly hadn’t meant to say something quite so awful – it had justslipped out! He’d just been so angry and upset that she had a…well, he wasangry and upset that he didn’t have anyone to spend either today, or the restof his life, with.

The feeling of guilt was only exacerbated when he finallymade his way into the kitchen, and spotted Miss Babcock at the table. She wassurrounded by the stash of chocolate he’d bought for himself, more than half ofit opened and a lot of it missing.

He really had hurt her, hadn’t he? She’d imagined that she’dbe left alone (where she could bear her emotions in private) and had gonethrough the cupboards for comfort food.

Niles took a hesitant step towards her, “Miss Babcock, I-”

The producer lifted one hand in a halting fashion.

“Save it, Niles,” she nearly snapped, using her free handsto crumple up an empty wrapper and drop it on the table with the rest. “I don’twanna hear your next pithy little remark. You can have this round.”

She…thought this was all part of their usual routine? Thathe was trying to deliberately make her feel this way, because part of the gamewas to make her upset? That wasn’t the way it was supposed to play out, andthey both knew it! Even without talking about it, they knew they enjoyed thewordplay and the challenge that the other provided.

What he’d said had been too much, and it hadn’t come from agood place.

He approached the table sombrely, hoping that he could offerher an apology. It would be a first, most likely, but it was nonetheless needed.

She picked up another chocolate bar and eyed himsuspiciously as he came over, “What? No victory dance, or is that too muchexercise for that ancient carcass of yours?”

Pursing his lips some, Niles tried to ignore the remark.

“I’m not here to try and argue with you,” he said, turninghis eyes to the mess on the table. “Although some others might, if they caughtyou with their own private stash. Or what’s left of it, rather…”

Miss Babcock broke off a piece, “Well, just because I’mheartless doesn’t mean I don’t like chocolate.”

Niles sighed, thinking that he could kick himself.

“…I really didn’t mean to be so callous, you know.”

The producer rolled her eyes, words only muffled a little bythe chocolate she’d popped into her mouth, “Yeah, right!”

“I’m telling you the truth!” he insisted in return.

Miss Babcock turned more in her chair, looking at himseriously, “What makes you think I’m gonna believe that? Is it the years ofinsults, the physical pranks, or the way you toy with my mental health like acat with a yarn ball?”

Niles returned her look, leaning over towards her slightly, “Howabout the fact that you know if I was going to try and turn this into a joke, Iwould have done so by now?”

It was, truly, a last resort. The two of them never talkedabout the fact that they knew each other better than anyone else – knew whatdirection the other would take a verbal sparring session, their likes anddislikes in a variety of subjects, from food to people…

They knew how far each would take something like this, andwhen they would stop. And she knew that he would have done more than he had sofar, if he intended to continue.

She had to accept it, even if she was upset, “Alright,fine.”

Not feeling much better, but now at least satisfied that shewas willing to listen to him, Niles hesitantly took the seat next to her. Hedid it a little more confidently once it became apparent that she wasn’t goingto stop him.

But before he could try to apologise again, the producerspoke up.

“And for the record, I don’t even have a date tonight,” she angrilyunwrapped another chocolate. “But before you say anything, no, I did not makeup the one I had before.”

Niles felt surprise bubble up inside him. So, they were bothspending Valentine’s Day by themselves – suddenly, it made sense that she hadn’tmocked his lack of a date (or the fact that he had to work to make someone else’sday special) all morning.

And it made even more sense as to why his insult had stungher so deeply. Behind those walls she put around herself, Niles knew she wouldbe feeling hurt and vulnerable. His tactless words were probably contributing tothat, and it was making him feel awful.

He shifted in his seat, “…If you don’t mind my asking, whathappened?”

“Damned if I know,” she bit into her chocolate, and it oozedcaramel. “You know, I really thought it was all going great, and then all of asudden, he calls me up and says he has to cancel on me!”

Niles blinked, “Was he ill?”

Miss Babcock looked at him, “What do you think, Niles?”

The expression on her face was all he needed to understandwhat had gone on, and he wanted to kick himself again for not realising before.

“Oh,” he bit back a frown and picked up a chocolate forhimself. “I see. There was clearly an emergency then. Somebody somewhere requireda giant tool.”

And that was when he noticed Miss Babcock finally crack asmile – the crinkled kind that told him she was trying not to laugh.

But Niles wasn’t going to be deterred. After the time she’dhad, he actually felt that the producer needed to laugh a little. So, (between eatingthe chocolates they’d apparently silently sort-of agreed to share) he keptgoing, tossing insults and sharp remarks at the man who’d ditched her on a daythat was supposed to be about love and togetherness.

He hoped it made up for his behaviour at least a little, andfor the fact that the only chocolate she’d had hadn’t been a gift, she had nodate tonight to look forward to, and no flower bouquets to admire.

And eventually, she did laugh. It was like music when ithappened, and Niles felt his chest inflate a little with pride.

He had cheered her up, to some extent.

Her bad feeling hadn’t entirely gone away, though.

She lowered another empty wrapper to the table, twisting it inbetween her fingers, “Well, jerk or not, he clearly had a better offer elsewhere!”

Niles cocked his head to one side, “A better offer thanyou?”

The producer huffed a sardonic laugh out through her nose,her eyes focused on the table.

“Not hard to find, right?”

Niles felt a wave of sadness come over him at that. MissBabcock truly did underestimate herself, when there was no reason.

And, after the time they’d spent just enjoying the chocolateand discussing the ways in which her non-date could go screw himself, he wasfeeling…well, rather encouraged.

“No…I’d say it’s more…impossible.”

It caught the producer off-guard, “What?”

Suddenly the encouragement dimmed a little, and tensiongripped at his heart. But he knew he had to go on – he couldn’t suddenly decidenot to say anything; she’d never let him live it down if he did.

He just had to be tactful about it, that was all.

So, he began, “Well, who wouldn’t ask you to be their dateon Valentine’s Day? The witty conversation, probably a very carefully selectedbottle of wine, and then dancing well into the night…it sounds like the bestoffer a man could receive, to me.”

There was silence for an uncomfortably long amount of time afterwards.But, eventually, the producer leaned back in her chair.

“Do I smell scotch on your breath?” she asked, gesturing athim. “I’m getting flashbacks to Maxwell and Nanny Fine’s wedding day.”

Niles rolled his eyes, “I haven’t been imbibing, Babs – I doactually happen to think that you make better company than most.”

There was another, shorter silence before the produceranswered.

“That doesn’t prove to me that you’re not hammered, you know,”she said. Then she let a ghost of a smile appear. “But…thanks anyway, I guess.”

Niles had to be satisfied with that. He felt it was time toget back into familiar territory, for the time being.

He smiled back at her, “Well, I’m not trying to kick the dogwhile she’s down, I’m trying to bring her back up.”

Miss Babcock’s eyebrow raised, a hint of a smirk playingabout her features, “And you think another zinger is the right way to go aboutthat, huh?”

The butler grinned lopsidedly in return, “Throw me a bone, Ialready let you almost entirely demolish my chocolate supplies.”

The producer appeared to think about this, before replying.

“Well, you do put the “dog” in “dogsbody”, so alright,” shesaid. She then reached down to her bag, which was at her feet, and pulled outher purse. “And here. All the chocolate’s gonna be half-price tomorrow; you canrestock your little stash and not have to worry about breaking a buck!”

She pulled out a small wad of notes, and tossed it onto his sideof the table.

Niles looked at it for a few seconds, not thinking about chocolatelike she must have assumed he would be. A plan was rapidly forming in his head,and he liked it far better than eating treats alone in his room, discreetlyshedding a tear or two at the movie he’d put on the television, and throwingdiscarded wrappers at the screen if he got annoyed at the lead couple.

He then looked up at the producer, “I’d tell you to keep it,if I didn’t have a better idea.”

That seemed to pique Miss Babcock’s interest, “Oh?”

“You are on your break, and I have no chores left untiltonight,” he said. “I might not be able to offer you dinner, but how does aValentine’s Day lunch sound?”

Miss Babcock appeared to think about it for a moment, before looking amused.

“Offering to pay for a meal with money that I gave you,” she said. “You certainly know how to turn a girl’s head, ScrubbingBubbles!”

“I wouldn’t use it to pay for a meal!” Niles protested,before suddenly thinking of something and leaning his elbow on the table withhis head propped up in his hand. “Although, interestingly enough, I’m nothearing you say no…”

Miss Babcock’s retort was swift, “Well, I suppose I have noother choice but to accept, unless I want to look like a sad sack who couldn’teven get a date on Valentine’s Day.”

“Was that another dig at my inability to get a date?” thebutler asked, dropping his last chocolate wrapper on the small pile on thetable.

“You see it however you want, Hazel,” Miss Babcock replied,pushing her chair out to get up. “Are we going, or not?”

Niles began to smile again, and joined her on his feet, “Wemost certainly are.”

They both began to make their way towards the door, butbefore Niles left he remembered to pick up the money Miss Babcock had left forhim on the table.

He’d use his own money to pay for the food, and they’d bothjust had enough chocolate to last them an entire week, let alone a day, butthere was still one thing that was missing.

He wasn’t about to ruin the (awfully bold) Valentine’s Daysurprise by telling her, but earlier that day he’d seen a man on the cornerselling flowers.

So, new HC this afternoon. Here in the states they had on a special honoring Andrew Lloyd Webber and all I could imagine was Maxwell, Fran and N/CC watching it. The whole show max just whines and claims all the facts are wrong and "that play wasn't really that great" and the whole time N/CC trade whispered jokes and make fun of how dramatic he is behind his back. He's oblivious but Fran hears and keeps supporting her husband while trying not to laugh. Can you write something like this for me?

This was actually an awesome idea, Anon, thank you! Sorry it took a while, I’ve had a busy couple of days between uni, a doctor’s appointment, and my brother moving out of the house. I hope it’s worth it - enjoy!

@missbabcocks1 @holomoriarty

Niles had been finishing up his chores for the evening whenhe saw it – Fran curled up on the living room sofa, her arms wrapped around a largebowl of popcorn, and her eyes fixed on the television screen.

Usually there wouldn’t be anything strange about it. It was,after all, her usual routine when Maxwell and C.C. were busy making importantphone calls to the studio workers in the office, and all of the children were elsewherewith their friends. She’d put her feet up, fetch herself a snack or get him tomake one for her, and watch a rom-com or something until their spouses came in,finally finished from a long day’s work.

But what Fran was currently watching looked like a televisionprogramme – and not one of her usual Netflix bouts.

He approached the back of the sofa, “What are you watching?”

“It’s that NBC special, the one markin’ Andrew LloydWebber’s birthday – oh! I cannot believe that man is seventy and still doin’theatre musicals like he does,” Fran answered, grabbing another handful ofpopcorn. “You’d’ve thought that after the knighthood and then the lordship andall the royalties on top o’ that, he’d decide enough was enough and retire offsomewhere, but no.”

“Hm, I suppose some people just live for what they do,”Niles set down the papers he’d been tidying away and rounded the corner of thesofa to take a seat as well. “Pass the popcorn this way.”

She did so, and he settled into watching along with her. Theprogramme was actually quite interesting and enjoyable, once you got into it.

But still there were more interesting things to the butler,and one of them made herself known with the familiar clicking of heels againstthe hardwood floor. C.C. must have finished her work for the evening, and comedown to join them for an evening of light entertainment.

He smiled up at her as she came in, and she stared back theminute she noticed what was on the screen.

“Why are you watching this?” she asked, slightly incredulous.“You both know how much Maxwell hates Andrew Lloyd Webber!”

Niles shrugged back at his wife, “He’s not here.”

“And we still like the shows,” Fran said. “Besides, Maxwellneeds ta learn that Andrew Lloyd Webber’s successes are not his failures.”

C.C. pulled a thoughtful face and sighed, “You do have apoint, there. We’ve been working in television for nearly twenty years, it’sabout time your husband got over all that pettiness.”

Niles smiled to himself. Both women were, of course, rightabout how Maxwell should have been moving on past his grudge against the otherproducer, but they all knew it wasn’t going to happen. It had been a source ofirritation in the household for so long now, it was practically integral. Andit had lasted longer as a source of tension in the house than his and C.C.’s rivalry,which even they had had to admit was impressive.

It had led to all Andrew Lloyd Webber productions being bannedfrom the new house, back when they’d moved to California just before the startof the Millennium. But C.C. wasn’t exactly trying to turn the television off orover, either. And Niles knew why.

“You like Lloyd Webber musicals as well, and you knowit,” he smirked, and rose to his feet to wind his arms around her waist,crooning into her ear. “Now come; sing once again with me our strange duet, mypower over you grows stronger yet…”

He pulled her back onto the sofa with him, and C.C. let outa soft yelp and a chuckle.

“Well, that’s not creepy at all,” she rolled her eyes,before stroking one finger down his chest. “At least the Phantom only had towear half a mask when he went outside…”

Niles hummed pleasurably, and went to brush his lips up herneck, “Play your cards right, and I won’t wear anything…”

“Hey, hey! I’m tryin’ ta watch!” Fran protested, shifting onthe sofa and taking the popcorn bowl back. “If yer gonna do the whole foreplaything, could ya perhaps go somewhere else where there are no other people?”

C.C. lifted his chin up with two of her fingers, so he’dlook her in the face.

“Later, lover,” she murmured with a wink, before addressingFran louder. “Sorry, Nanny Fine. We’ll watch the show now.”

That seemed to settle Fran, “Thank you.”

They got back into watching, Fran keeping mostly a firm holdon the popcorn bowl and Niles keeping a completely firm hold of C.C., who had swungher legs over his lap and had her body resting against his.

They all appeared to be relaxing, Niles nearly dozing off,when a loud voice started them all back to the present moment.

“What the hell are you three doing?!”

They nearly leapt out of their skins; Niles and C.C. clutchedat each other for dear life, and Fran let out a screech as she just about clungonto the popcorn bowl. They all spun to look over the back of the sofa, heartspounding and catching breath back.

“Maxwell, you just gave us all heart attacks!” C.C. exclaimed.

The other producer marched around to the front of the sofa,his face like thunder.

“Like that’s the biggest crime going on in this room!” he shouted,gesturing wildly between the three of them and the television. “Why are you allgathered in here, watching this…this rubbish about Andrew Lloyd Webber?!”

“Because it’s a good show, with some good showtunesattached!” Fran argued back. “Ya might not like the man, honey, but ya gottagive credit where it’s due!”

Her husband folded his arms in a huff, “I can give creditwhere it’s due, Fran. By letting the show go on without me or any member of myfamily watching.”

Niles cocked his head from side to side, “Well, you achievedmost of that – none of the children are here.”

“Don’t be clever, Niles,” Maxwell was on the verge ofsnapping, and he seated himself heavily. ““Credit where it’s due”! It’s notlike there’s so much to make a fuss over…!”

C.C. raised her eyebrows at Niles, muttering, “And yet herewe are…”

Their employer didn’t hear her snide comment. He was too busycaught up in his own bitter jealousy.

“Half of these ideas came from other people anyway!” he saidin contempt.

That left him open to a lot of fun, for the time being.

Niles copied C.C.’s expression back at her, “Remind me howmany writers the sitcom has…?”

“And the other half aren’t even good!” Maxwell complained.“Remember what a flop Love Never Dies was?”

“Remember before this conversation started?” C.C. askedquietly.

Fran heard that one. Niles saw her try not to laugh as she rubbedher husband’s forearm.

“We all remember, sweetie,” she said reassuringly. “And yersitcom’s been a massive success.”

“As big a success as Cats?” Niles asked his wife, a hint ofirony in his tone.

The corners of C.C.’s mouth were twitching into a smile, “Ifit was, he’d turn it down, too.”

“It has, hasn’t it?” Maxwell was only paying attention toFran still. “He can’t even get a simple stage musical right, I’d like to seeAndrew Lloyd Webber try turning his hand to television!”

That was too good an opportunity to resist. Niles puffed hischest out and ran a hand through his hair to make it wavier, and launched intoa pompous impression.

“I’d like to see Andrew Lloyd Webber turning his hand totelevision…!”

Stifling laughter, C.C. joined in with her own impersonation,“Yes, seeing as the last time he turned his hand, it was to give me thefinger…!”

Fran couldn’t help but let out a splutter of laughter atthat. And it finally caught Maxwell’s attention.

“Is something funny, Fran?” he asked, clearly still verymuch annoyed.

“No, honey, nothin’s funny, nothin’ at all…” she repliedquickly, putting the bowl of popcorn down on the coffee table and taking his hand.“Well, apart from yer sitcom, of course! In fact, we have the boxset upstairs,don’t we? Why don’t we let the rest o’ the country get on with celebratin’Andrew Lloyd Webber, go somewhere else, and watch yer show?”

Something about that perked Maxwell up some, “Really? Youmean it?”

“Of course I mean it! You deserve ta celebrate yer own successes,not get caught up in somebody else’s, and you’re my husband,” Fran squeezed hishand “And both of those things are more important than anything else.”

“Well…alright,” Maxwell nodded, calmer as he stood up. “Ithink the boxset is by the television in our bedroom.”

“Then we’ll go find it,” Fran began to beam, and got to herfeet as well. “We can forget all about this whole Andrew Lloyd Webbernonsense!”

They made their way out of the living area, heading for thestairs. But as her husband went up, Fran turned back, snatching up the popcornand shooting a warning scowl at Niles and C.C..

She pointed first at them, and then at the television, “Youtwo are not funny! And record the rest of that for me!”

Niles pressed a button on the remote for her, “Got it.”

“Thank you!” she called out as she left again.

As she did, the remaining married couple breathed a sigh ofrelief.

Niles let his head rest back against the sofa, “Well, that’sanother crisis averted, for another day.”

C.C. shifted, and relaxed back against him again, “Yeah,until they have the next Andrew Lloyd Webber special.”

“Which hopefully won’t be any time soon,” he put one arm aroundher back. “We’ve, um…got this recording – you want to keep watching?”

His wife looked up at him, a teasing glint in her eye, “Why,what else did you have in mind that we could be doing?”

“What you said about…later,” he growled, using his free handto trace patterns on her thigh.

“Oh, I see…” she grinned. “Maxwell and Nanny Fine went totheir room, so you want us to go to ours and think up our own entertainment?”

In one swift movement, he had her lying flat on her back onthe sofa, and was on his hands and knees over her.

“Who said anything about moving anywhere?” he smirked.

C.C. chuckled, “You’d better hope they’re binge-watchingthat boxset, Butler Boy…”

He slowly leaned down to kiss her, “Like the threat ofpeople walking in’s ever stopped us…”

The special on TV eventually finished, but neither of themnoticed.

Some things in life were just too interesting to bedistracted from.

Could you do a prompt of Niles and CC's daughter's wedding day? Mainly because I have such feels about Niles walking his baby girl down the aisle.

Here we are, my Anon friend! Sorry it took a little bit, I’m back at uni and I was feeling quite tired yesterday. I hope you enjoy it!

@holomoriarty @missbabcocks1

He’d only just arrived, really, but he felt like he’d beenwaiting for an eternity. The anxiety was causing all kinds of knots in hisstomach, and he didn’t know whether it made him want to laugh or cry.

Probably both, if he was honest. It wasn’t every day thefirst of one’s children got married.

Charity-Charlotte had been dating Jonah Sheffield for atleast the last three years (he suspected longer, but he had a feeling only C.C.and Fran knew for sure), and she’d been over the moon when he’d finallyproposed. The entire family had been – even Niles had, despite the fact that itinvolved his little girl going off to be with a man.

She’d just been so happy, it was impossible to not absorbsome of it himself. And he’d taken Jonah aside later to make it clear just howwell he expected the boy to treat his daughter. Jonah had promised thatCharity-Charlotte wouldn’t be treated as any less than a queen. He had tobegrudgingly admit that reassured him, even if a cynical part wanted to claimthat those words were rather smooth.

It was just unfortunate that C.C. had overheard theirconversation, and gave him a chewing out in private for not trusting Jonah; hewas the son of their best friends, he’d been nothing but loving with theirdaughter, and they were both so excited to be getting married! He’d had toreassure her that he wasn’t going to let any of his doubts spoil theirdaughter’s engagement, or wedding, and that he’d do everything he could to helpplan the day.

And he was there, right then, ready to escort her to the church and walk her down theaisle.

Even if it only felt like she’d been a baby yesterday, todayshe was a grown woman, and about to go on a huge adventure.

It was humbling, and terrifying, in equal measure.

His wife was heading down the stairs in his direction evenas he thought about it. She was practically glowing with pride, and looked anabsolute vision in her morning suit.

“I remember that face,” she commented, gesturing to his faceas she came closer. “The last time I saw it, we were waiting in line to go onthe Tower of Terror at Disneyland.”

She always saw right through him. He supposed he couldn’thide it all, even if he wanted to. But she knew what to do, as well.

“I also remember how excited the kids were to go on. And howexhilarating it was, and how happy we all were after,” she began to fuss withand straighten his tie. “Think of this as being like that. This is another bigadventure, and Charity’s excited for it, so we should be as well.”

“I know. And I am,” he replied, sighing. “It’s just all sostrange at the same time! It feels like only yesterday we were bringing herhome from the hospital…”

She smoothed out his tie one last time, and gave him a smallsmile for a few seconds.

“Oh, come here,” she put her arms around him, and kissed hischeek. “You are the biggest sap I’ve ever met, Niles Brightmore.”

He hugged her back, relishing in the comfort her armsprovided, “Yet you still married me.”

“And it was the right decision,” she hugged him tighterbriefly, and then let go to grip at his upper arms. “Just like today is theright decision for our little girl.”

It was the right decision. He knew that. Jonah and Charity-Charlottehad been friends for even longer than they’d been together, and they knew hewas a good man, really.

Now if only that settled down the bubbling emotions insideof him…

Before he could say anything, they heard voices and feet onthe landing upstairs. C.C. turned, and he saw her jump slightly withexcitement.

“Ooh! Here she comes!” she cried out in delight, and hurriedaway to help their younger daughters, Faith-Francine and Hope-Harriet, who wereserving as bridesmaids, make their way downstairs.

They both looked lovely, and they each came over to give hima hug and a kiss, and to clear the way so that their elder sister could comedown.

And he could only stare as she did. He’d seen her made upnicely to go out, with her hair done and her makeup perfect, but this wasentirely something else!

“Hi, Daddy,” Charity-Charlotte came over, grinning. After taking in abreath, she looked down at herself. “Well…what do you think?”

She looked absolutely stunning, that’s what he thought. Andit amazed him.

This was his little girl. The one he’d put to bed the firstnight she was home, knowing his world was about to change for the better. Theone he’d helped teach to walk and talk. The one he’d helped with homework afterschool, and taken to the park on weekends, or stayed in and baked with if itwas raining. The one he’d made laugh, and comforted when she’d cried.

He loved her; loved his children, and now they were growingup. And this was proof.

“You look beautiful,” he blinked, smiling through the tearshe knew were coming. “Are you ready?”

“Are you?” Charity-Charlotte joked lightly, taking his handsand squeezing them.

“As I’ll ever be,” he tugged on her hand. The car to takethem both to the church was waiting outside. “Come on; let’s be off.”

The journey to the church and getting ready to go in passedby in the blink of an eye, and soon he was walking her up the aisle in time tothe bridal march.

It had all gone so fast. And all the faces beaming back atthem were making him feel warm inside. They’d all come because they lovedCharity-Charlotte and Jonah, and wanted to celebrate the day with them. Hecould see C.C., just as beautiful as the day he’d met her, grinning at him fromoff to the side, and Maxwell comforting a sobbing Fran on the other.

And right in the middle, before the priest and being nudgedby his best man, was Jonah.

Niles could only imagine what the boy was feeling. Itreminded him of his own wedding, in a way. Well, maybe not because of thelocation, or the timing, or the number of guests that were there (a deliveryroom could only hold so many people, after all!), but the feeling was the same.The overwhelming sense of love and togetherness, and the atmosphere ofcelebration.

And suddenly they were there, Charity-Charlotte stood nextto Jonah in front of the priest. And they were looking at each other the way heremembered looking at C.C. on their own big day.

He wished he could be with his wife at that moment, even ifonly for the fact that he knew he was about to cry again.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to bringtogether this man and this woman…”

He didn’t really hear the priest’s opening address – thetears were blurring his vision, and he was focused on trying to discreetly wipethem away. Not that it was working, there were too many of them for that.

“Who gives permission for this woman to be given to thisman?”

He heard that part. He remembered it from the rehearsal. Itwas his big part to play in the ceremony, and the one that left him the mostchoked up.

Well, here it went. He was about to symbolically giveCharity-Charlotte to her new husband. Give her over to a new life.

She’d have her own family, raise her own children, and thenit would be her and Jonah one day watching their own little boy or girl form anew family, wondering how time could move so quickly.

Giving her a tearful smile, he took his daughter’s hand.

“I do.”

He placed it in Jonah’s.

He then stepped back, and let the rest of the ceremonycontinue. He applauded just as loud when the young couple were finally declaredhusband and wife, and as the service ended and the reception began, he celebrated with his wife and his children lateinto the night.

But when he finally went to bed, he couldn’t sleep. He laythere in the dark, still thinking.

He didn’t know how long he’d been staring up at the darkceiling, but eventually he felt C.C. shift in bed, and roll over towards him.

“You’re still awake,aren’t you?”

He looked towards where her voice had come from, “How didyou know?”

“Well, I’m not falling out of the bed because your snoringis causing a local earthquake, and that’s usually a tell-tale sign,” with astretch, C.C. sat more upright, and clicked on the bedside lamp, blinking inthe light she turned back to him. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, per se,” he replied, wiping his eyes. “Iwas just….thinking.”

“Now, you know what that does to you,” she propped one elbowon her pillow and stared at him. “What were you thinking about?”

“Everything. Especially today,” Niles turned his face backto the ceiling, but kept his eyes on his wife. “Our little girl got married!Isn’t that amazing?”

C.C.’s eyebrow raised, “You’ve only just noticed?”

“No, I just…it still feels incredible, I suppose,” he sighedheavily. “What happened to all that time?”

“Well, we lived it, Hazel! I hate to tell you, but the yearskind of flew past us!” C.C. gestured between them jokingly. “One more than theother, clearly, but still.”

She was trying to cheer him up, and he appreciated it. They’dbeen through so much together, over the course of all the years that they’d knownone another. And they’d come out stronger for it.

He loved her with all his heart, and he was more than happyto play the game as well.

“Don’t beat yourself up so much, love; there’s still a goodfew miles in you yet,” the corners of his mouth tugged into a smile as hepatted her leg, and he did feel a little better.

“Are you gonna be looking so smug when it’s Faith-Francine’sturn, or Hope-Harriet’s?” she asked, unamused. “You gonna make old jokes then?”

It was feigned, he knew that, but the element of truth herwords and expression held gave him a sudden realisation.

Oh God. There was a good chance they were going to have togo through this feeling two more times!

C.C. might have realised that she’d said the wrong thing then,because, sighing, she cuddled up close to him, and placed one hand over his heart. Aftera moment of silence, she lifted her head again, and Niles knew she’d had anidea.

“You know what? Why don’t we do something to turn back theclock a little?”

He looked at her, a little confused, “What did you have inmind?”

“Well, Charity and Jonah are going on their honeymoon,” C.C.said. “Why don’t we one up the newlyweds and go on our second?”

A second honeymoon?

That actually didn’t sound like such a bad idea, and it wasstarting to brighten his mood again with the possibilities. They hadn’t been ona proper vacation in quite a while, so they were owed some much-deserved timeoff…

They should take the opportunity while they could. C.C. wasright, some relaxation and fun would take a few years off them!

Time might have gone by and their children might have grownup, but that didn’t mean they had to slow down any.

He didn’t intend to slow down any!

“You know, I think I rather like that suggestion,” he gave alopsided grin – the one reserved just for her.

“Good,” C.C. smiled, and reached forward to press a kiss tohis lips. “And, do you know what second honeymoons imply?”

He thought about it, before replying, “No…”

“Second wedding nights,” his wife smirked, and lazily liftedherself up and over to straddle him. She stroked her hand harder against hischest. “Seeing as we’re both awake, and aiming to shave a couple years off, Ithink I know what might hit the spot. You wanna get started?”

Niles found his countenance matching her own, and his handscaressed up her thighs.

She was such a wicked woman, always finding the most deviousways of distracting him!

He loved it.

“I haven’t seen that face since we got back to the hotelroom, after having been on the Tower of Terror.”

C.C. let out a chuckle, and leaned down to kiss him again, “Ionly make this face for one ride in the entire park, Butler Boy…”

He laughed, and wound his arms around her. Even if they weregetting older, they didn’t have to get any less energetic. They were still youngat heart, no matter how many years passed. All their little girls could growup, and they’d be exactly the same.

It would be emotional, yes, but they’d get through ittogether.

And if it resulted in a third and fourth honeymoon for the two of them, then all the better.

"Where the fuck have you been?" - Niles and C.C.

Here you are, my friend. Sorry this took so long, my days in the US are numbered (I fly home tomorrow) and this weekend as such has been very busy for me. Enjoy.

@holomoriarty and @missbabcocks1

Niles was running. He couldn’t believe this had happened! Well, he should have guessed, if he was honest, because nothing ever went straightforwardly when it came to being in the vicinity of the Sheffields. He was just thanking his lucky stars that an elevator hadn’t been involved this time.This time, it had been a cab. A cab carrying his heavily pregnant wife and Mrs Sheffield from the downtown area back to the house, after a shopping trip in preparation for the new arrival.The arrival which had been a little more imminent than the doctors had predicted, it seemed.He himself had been out running errands, when Fran had made a call from the cab to her husband; Maxwell then asked why she hadn’t phoned Niles first, and only then did she hang up to call the butler. Who had then received the message that the cab was being redirected to the hospital, as well as a muffled earful from his wife.He had immediately rushed off, but been caught in traffic because of an accident up ahead. As the hours crawled by, he could only think of his wife, lying there in agony as she gave birth to his child, and he wasn’t there to hold her hand through it!Granted, it meant he wasn’t being yelled at or threatened, either, but he couldn’t help but feel like he was missing out on something there, too. It was all part of the experience that went with watching the woman he loved bring his child into the world, and holding her through it. He wanted to be connected to the moment, through the good and the bad. That was why he was running. He had eventually made it to the hospital and parked the car, and had hurried as fast as his already tired body and the heat of the day would carry him. He burst through the front doors, demanding to know where his wife was, and was eventually directed to her room. The pained cries could be heard from down the corridor, and he greeted an anxious Maxwell, who waited outside.“There you are, Old Man!” he grasped his friend’s hand firmly. “Fran had to go home to be with the children. We were worried you’d never make it in time!”“I very nearly didn’t,” Niles replied, looking anxiously over towards the room. “How long has she been in there?”“Get your useless ass in here and you’ll find out!” screamed a voice from the other side of the door.Niles sighed, smiling as he turned for the room, “I suppose that’s my cue.”Maxwell nodded, and patted his shoulder, “Indeed it is. Good luck.”With one last nod to his employer, he rushed into the room, to immediately be stuck with a glare from his wife, combined with a strange kind of growling which he supposed showed both her pain and her rage at the current moment.“Where the fuck have you been?!” she demanded, clutching at the bedsheets as the doctor took another look to see the baby’s progress.He went to her side, and grasped for her hand, “I am so sorry, sweetheart. I got here as fast as I could, but the traf-agghh!”His explanation was cut off as C.C. put a vice-like grip on his hand, bearing the pain of another contraction. As she came out of it, she released a breath, trying to keep it steady, “You were saying?”Niles shook his head, and seated himself behind her as best he could so he could hold her, not letting go of her hand for an instant.“It doesn’t matter,” he said. It truly didn’t. All that mattered was that he was right there, right then.“Alright, Mrs Brightmore, in a few seconds you’re going to start feeling an overwhelming need to push,” the doctor called from down the end of the bed as she inspected the patient once more, a little while after Niles had settled himself. “So, when I count to three, you-”“Way ahead of you, Doc!” C.C. cried out as the urge hit her full-force, and she held onto her husband tightly.He held her back through it, murmuring words of comfort as best he could.“Nearly there, sweetheart, nearly there,” he wished he could make that promise, but in all honesty, he had no clue. “You’re doing brilliantly…”“Yeah, no thanks to you,” she spat back, groaning again as another urge to push hit. She pushed her head back against his shoulder, and he could see a few tears leaking from the corner of her eyes. “It hurts so much, Niles…”“I know, I know,” he kissed the side of her head and hugged her, knowing that he could only ever have a vague inkling of what she was feeling, but determined to let her get out all of the things she was keeping inside. “But it will be over soon, I promise. And think about our little one, C.C.. Our very own little baby to hold and adore, right here, very soon…! You just have to keep going!”She nodded, bracing herself for another push, “Oh, I will. And then when I’m well enough, I’m taking a very important part of your anatomy and mailing it to Texas!”Well, he himself had wanted the abuse as well as the joy of the actual birth. It was all part of the process, and he had to let her let out her frustrations.He hoped she didn’t mean it, anyway. The anger in her voice fell away after several more rounds of letting everything out, and was then replaced with pain again.“I was so scared, Niles,” she finally admitted. “I thought something had happened, and the contractions hurt so much, it confused me and made me panic…”He felt a jolt of pain at that, thinking that she had been here all by herself practically, wondering where the heck he had gotten to. Los Angeles was a huge city, and crossing it to get to her could have been dangerous for him. She must have been thinking something terrible, which would only be magnified by the fear of going into labour, and that wounded him.He had a family to protect. As far as he was concerned, he wasn’t going anywhere.“I’m right here,” he reassured, giving her hand a squeeze. “And I’m not planning on being anywhere else my whole life. I promise.”“Okay, Mrs Brightmore, you’re crowning!” the doctor called out. “Mr Brightmore, do you want to come down here and watch?”And suddenly he was torn. Of course he wanted to see their child actually being brought into the world, but what if C.C. needed him right where he was? He couldn’t just get up and go down there if she needed him to hold her hand or wipe at her forehead-“Oh, for Pete’s sake, get down there!” she ordered, interrupting his thoughts. “Our child is going to need you just as much as I am!”He did as he was told. Giving her one more kiss on the cheek, he rose and went to the point where the doctor was.And he saw it – his child’s head, coming through into the light! Through the blood and the fluid, he thought he could see the start of a head of hair, too – and a cute little nose, and perfectly round little cheeks…His eyes widened, “This is incredible! C.C., our baby…our baby is coming right now!”“You don’t have to tell me!” she screamed as she prepared to push out the shoulders.“It’s alright, Mrs Brightmore, the head is the hardest part,” the doctor was calm about all of it. “Just a few more pushes, and it will all be over!”All over. Just like he had said it would be. Of course, that was probably hours ago at this stage, but his mind had been racing and made everything seem quicker.“A few more pushes,” she echoed. “Just a few more pushes…”And it seemed the doctor was right. Soon enough, the little body came sliding out, and the room was filled with forceful wails from the latest addition to the Brightmore family. C.C. collapsed back against her pillows, allowing herself to rest after the exhausting effort.While the baby was taken to be weighed and cleaned, Niles went back to her, a grin spreading itself across his face. He seated himself by her side, and kissed her on the head.“You were wonderful,” he murmured the words against her skin, and he felt her chuckle lightly in response.“Even though I threatened to post your junk to another state?”He moved his lips down to her ear and kissed it, “You know you’d miss it far too much.”She angled her head to look at him, and smirked, “Someone thinks highly of himself. There are other things in this world I can entertain myself with, you know.”Niles gave a half-smirk in return, nodding in the direction of the nurse who was bringing them a small, perfectly wrapped bundle, “Yes, but none of them can give you this.”He stood up, and held out his arms to receive the tiny, slightly squirming thing.“Here’s your daughter, Mr Brightmore,” the nurse said cheerfully. “Congratulations.”Their daughter. Right there, in his arms. It made all the chaos of getting there seem so very much worth it.Thanking the nurse, he returned to sit by his wife, and they held the little one together, each using one arm to support her. “She’s beautiful,” C.C. seemed completely and utterly in awe of the baby she was now holding, and Niles couldn’t help but agree that that was how she should be.Their little girl was perfect.“Yes, she is,” he replied, using his free arm to wrap it around his wife’s back. “Just like her mother.”C.C. smiled at him, and then down at the baby, “And she hates to be late, it seems, if today was anything to go by.”As she looked back up at Niles, her smirk was back again.“So she doesn’t take after her Daddy in that regard, either.”Niles pretended to look unimpressed, “Ha ha. I’m allowing you that one, because you just gave birth.”“And because you love me, and know I’m right,” C.C. rested herself more against him, once more turning to look adoringly at the baby. Niles feigned a huff, “Maybe you are right. Maybe.”“Oh, I am,” C.C. nodded. “And there’s not a single thing you can do about it, mister.”Niles flashed her his lopsided grin, “And I am glad of that.”He truly was. From starting off enemies, to ending up married, he was glad that this was their life from now on. Raising their baby, and any more that they had in the future. Moving forward together, as a family…he wanted that, for the rest of his days.And he’d certainly try to never be late to anything like this ever again.

@holomoriarty I wrote the thing I told you about! :-)

It was lucky Mrs Sheffield arrived in the room before a brawl broke out over the simple case of mistaken identity that had just taken place, turning the light on in the meantime. It not only allowed Niles to see the look of disbelief on her face, but also the glare that he was being subjected to by his employer. Fran marched into the room, gesturing towards them before putting her hands on her hips, “You are not in Hollywood two minutes and look at you already!” Yes, look at her husband, on his own, not having an affair. The fact that the butler was in his bed instead of the one he’d been intending to end up in was just one of those results that seemed to happen purely because they were who they were. Maxwell looked back and forth between them as he scrambled to sit up, eyes still not fully adjusted to the light, “Would you mind telling me what the hell the two of you are doing in here?!” Well, it was a reasonable question, really, considering they should have been back in New York. Fran pointed accusingly at her husband, “My psychic saw you in Beverly Hills, in bed, wrapped in the arms of a leggy, blue-eyed blonde!” That was when it struck them both. A blue-eyed blonde in Maxwell’s bed. Beverly Hills… Fran gasped, her finger directing itself at Niles, “It’s you!” “It’s me!” Niles cried, feeling a certain amount of the same relief that Fran was expressing through her sigh of “Oh thank God”. But he was also feeling somewhat pleased, too, and he couldn’t help but show it to his friends. He grinned up at Fran, “Your psychic thinks I’m leggy!” “And she’s about the only one who does,” came a more than faintly amused voice from the still open door. All the current inhabitants of the room turned to look, but they all knew who it was. Miss Babcock was there, leaning casually in the doorway with her arms folded and a grin like she’d just heard the best joke in the world plastered to her face. Maxwell rolled his eyes, “C.C.! Finally, someone with some common sense around here! Could you please explain to my wife and your…” He looked over at Niles, who was busy climbing out of the bed in order to stand closer to C.C., and gestured vaguely, screwing up his face, before appearing to give up. “Could you please explain to my wife and to Niles that I’m not here to have an affair with anyone?” C.C. huffed out a laugh through her nose and stepped into the room, closing the door behind her, “I can try, as long as you explain to them the same thing about me!” Her words took a moment, but then the dark-haired producer seemed to catch on, and his jaw dropped as he looked back and forth between everyone in the room. He pointed between himself and C.C.. “You mean that you both thought that…” he trailed off, lowering his arm again. “But that’s ridiculous!” “Tell me about it, Maxwell!” C.C. agreed loudly, her arms still folded across her chest. But was it really? She had pined after him for so long, was it really so unbelievable and outlandish to worry, even just a little? Niles didn’t fully think so. He hated himself for not trusting her, of course (especially now all of this had happened), but that didn’t automatically mean the doubt went away. After all, what could he, a mere butler, give her that Mr Sheffield couldn’t? He wasn’t rich, or handsome; all he had were the feelings that were inside him, and he woke up every day afraid that they wouldn’t be enough. He adored her, so very much, and the thought of losing her had been too much to bear. That was why he’d gone there with Mrs Sheffield. It was also why the next words he thought were the ones that left his mouth. “You mean that both of you think the entire idea is ridiculous?” he queried, his own voice just as loud as C.C.’s had been. She was the one to answer, “Of course we do! We’re here to work, Niles, and even if we weren’t nothing would’ve happened! You didn’t have to come checking up on us like we were children, for Pete’s sake!” “Well, forgive us both for being afraid!” his voice was a shouted mock. “Afraid? Of what?!” she shouted back, gesturing around at the room and at the people in it. “What is there to possibly be afraid of in here?!” The words were out before he could stop them. “The fact that I’m not good enough for you!” he punctuated his words by slapping himself in the chest, his palm landing over his heart. The heart that felt like it was breaking. His words seemed to take the blonde producer aback, “What?” The pain in his chest only seemed to fuel the adrenaline, “I’m a servant!” “Yeah, and…?” C.C. had folded her arms again, and she shrugged, apparently waiting for an explanation. He screwed up his face in confusion at her question, “What do you mean, “and”?! I have no home of my own, no money, no power or privilege-” “And you think this bothers me because…?” C.C. asked. Niles was incredulous, “Why wouldn’t it bother you?! It bothers me every day! I can’t afford a place for us to live together, I can’t afford to keep you in the life you’ve lived since you were born! I can’t even afford to be in the same room as most people you’ve rubbed shoulders with all your life-” “Since we decided to take this direction in our relationship, when have I ever once indicated that that bothered me?! I’m not with you for money, or power, or anything like that! I’m with you because you are witty, and kind, and you take care of me, and we have fun together!” she began shaking her head, like she was distraught over something she was thinking and wanted to say out loud. “Maybe…Just…Have you ever considered that maybe it’s me who’s not good enough for you?! Come to think of it, why the hell do you stick around me, anyway?!” “Because I love you, you stubborn old witch!” Niles shouted, leaning in close to her. “I could just as well ask you why you stick around me!” She leaned in close back, “Have you ever considered that maybe it’s because I love you too, you stupid old man?!” They both snapped back upright, the gravity of what they’d both just said hitting them with the force of a car travelling full speed. They knew about how they felt. But they’d never said it before. The silence gave a little breathing room, and a chance for some of the adrenaline to wear off. Niles gestured back and forth between them, “Did we both just…?” C.C. clicked her tongue, and nodded, “Yep.” Another pause, and Niles took a slow, careful step in C.C.’s direction. “Are we…going to talk about it…?” The blonde-haired producer seemed to consider him for a moment. “Not right now,” she replied at last, and reached out for his hand, which she tugged on as she began to head for the door. “Not here, anyway. Come on.” The butler blinked, allowing himself to be pulled towards the door, “Where are we going?” “Somewhere a little more private,” she grinned at him over her shoulder, and opened the door before turning some to address the Sheffields. “If anyone needs a sexy or leggy blue-eyed blonde, they’ll be in their own bed in Beverly Hills.” She pulled him from the room, and Niles was happy to go, the heart he had feared was breaking now bursting with the love they’d both just admitted. They were together, in this, and no one was taking it away from them. He felt rather ridiculous for having gone all the way there to confirm it, but perhaps it was for the best. And it had led to what he was sure was going to be a more than pleasant evening... As they closed the room door behind them, they didn’t even register the gaping stares that Fran and Maxwell both had on their faces.