AN: Hey there! We have begun yet another story! Yep, we simply cannot get tired of these two, lol. Anyway, this story takes place during season 4, right after C.C. Broke her leg when due to Niles having waxed the floor. Remember? That episode she is wheelchair-bound? And that said wheelchair goes haywire and spins without control? Yep, that episode. We hope you enjoy this story and, as usual, we'd love to get your reviews.

Enjoy!

H&L

Chapter 1

This was going to be a marvellous prank.

The ones that required a bit of preparation beforehand did always feel rather satisfying. But that might have been because when they were carried out, it meant nothing had been in vain and all the work had been a success. It was going to be one heck of a success, if he did say so himself. The floor had come up nice and shiny with that wax, and he was just about to roll a wheelchair-bound Miss Babcock right across it.

He knew that she had to come this way through the house - she'd never get up the steps through the front door such as she was. And that made it even better. She had no choice in the matter at all! Granted, she wasn't enjoying having his "assistance" any more than he liked giving it. But she was having to lump it, seeing as she wanted to be inside that day.

"Feeling comfortable in that chair, Babcock?" he asked, feigning a certain amount of interest and concern. "Not getting numb down below, are we? I only ask because there's so much of it to go numb..."

"Can it, Dust Buster," the producer growled in reply, resting her chin in her hand, elbow propped as far as it could reach on the arm of her chair. "I have a lot to do today, so if you could just get me to the office, I'll take it from there until I need to go home."

And wouldn't that be a wonderful time for them both!

But, she did say she had a lot to do that day. Perhaps she needed to get there a little faster than he was pushing?

"Very well," he said, appearing innocent. "I'll get you through this kitchen in no time at all."

Indeed he would. She was lined up nicely with the swinging door into the dining room.

Oh, this was going to be terrific...!

He took one sure step onto the waxed floor, prepared to push...

But his foot gave way underneath him, sending her chair forward only a few feet as he went crashing to the floor, smacking his head on the tiles. The blow was so strong, he had to remain on the floor for a few seconds, just holding his head in his hands. It hurt all over, and Niles briefly wondered if perhaps he had a concussion.

Through the hurt and through the utter humiliation caused by his unsuccessful attempt at pranking her, he heard Miss Babcock's loud laugh echoing in the kitchen. It was the laugh she gave whenever she was thoroughly pleased - loud and mocking. He refused to look at her; he knew she'd be laughing at him, probably with tears of mirth going down her cheeks...

"Well, that was just wonderful!" said C.C. in between cackles, "Looks like someone's attempt at a prank came back and bit him in the ass!"

"Says the woman with a backside the size of Manhattan," grumbled the butler as he slowly sat up. He continued to hold his head in his hands - this was surely going to require ice.

"That was a weak zinger and you know it, Hazel," said C.C. smugly.

"Forgive me if I'm not up to your usual standards of poison, but I did just hit my head on the floor," Niles snapped back, tenderly patting the back of his head to check for bumps. "And seeing as men usually vomit over you for reasons other than head injuries, I'd suggest you make your own way to the office from here."

C.C.'s eyebrows raised, lips pursed, "Suit yourself."

Taking the wheels of her chair, she turned the whole thing around and pushed her way through into the dining room. Niles thought he heard a shout of "Ow! Damn it!" and several curses follow that. In some ways, that felt like a small victory, but it was hardly worth it for the pain in his own head right then.

He had to get ice. Something cold, anything would do!

Grabbing the edge of the counter, he pulled himself up shakily, and managed to stagger to the fridge-freezer. Using nearly all of his strength, he pulled open the door and grabbed around inside the freezer section for a bag.

Peas. Perfect. He shoved it against his head, feeling a certain amount of relief at the knowledge that it would soon numb the pain. He couldn't get back to work just for the moment, obviously. He had to sit down for a few seconds and let the cold do its work first.

He really hoped that Miss Fine would spend the rest of the day out of the house - the thought of having to hear her voice when his head felt like a balloon about to pop, was more than a little distressing. He just needed some moments of peace before starting up lunch - if Maxwell wanted his food now, then he could very well order in. Despite the coldness, however, his throbbing head didn't get any better - what is more, he began to feel sharp stabs of pain on the side he'd banged against the floor.

Trust Miss Babcock to ruin his day...

Fine, the fall had sort of been his fault, but he'd done all of this in hopes of pranking her. It was her fault by extension. Period.

When the pain bettered slightly, Niles carefully got to his feet. He was glad to find he could hold himself upright, but he had a terrible headache. Even the lights seemed too abrasive for his taste. Discarding the bag of peas on the kitchen table, Niles finally got to work. He took his time when preparing each and every single aliment, taking periodic breaks so that he could rest his head. The pain seemed to be getting worse, and there was a strange buzzing in his ears...

That was odd. He'd question whether or not he did actually have a concussion, but none of the other signs were presenting themselves. He didn't feel dizzy, or nauseous, at any rate. Maybe this was something else, that people didn't get told about so much? Maybe he would ask to be taken to the hospital, when he took lunch into the office. Not that Miss Babcock really deserved it. And would no doubt make all kinds of fun out of him asking to go to the hospital, even though it was a perfectly sensible idea when a person had hit their head as hard as he had.

But Mr Sheffield would listen. He'd have to. He couldn't have his butler doing himself an injury, and then unable to work because of it! So, picking up the tray and walking as slowly as he could to ease the pain, he made his way towards the office. Each step was agonising, but if he got there he could tell Maxwell what was going on. And that would mean potentially doing something about it.

He could hear Miss Babcock's voice as he got close. It sounded like she was going over a contract. No matter. They could pick up again when something was done about his sore head. But she stopped as he entered anyway, looking up from the sheets of paper on her lap.

"Forgive me for being late with this, sir," Niles said, wincing as he put the tray down on the desk, in front of Maxwell. "I slipped and hit my head on the floor, and now I find myself in quite a substantial amount of pain."

C.C. chuckled under her breath as she went back to her paperwork, "Joke's on you asshat."

Niles turned to glare at the producer, but she was still focused on the paperwork in front of her, and Maxwell didn't seem to have heard her. He would have argued with her, but doing something about his head came first and foremost.

"You fell?" exclaimed Maxwell, looking up from his work, frowning.

"I bet he wishes he'd fallen on his backside. There is plenty of it to fall on."

Again Niles gave C.C. a dirty look. She didn't appear to mind - she wasn't even looking at him! The witch was "innocently" going over the same damn contract.

"Niles, did you hear me?" asked Maxwell, sounding more concerned that annoyed at him. "I asked if you fell!"

Niles frowned too. Hadn't he heard...? He must have! Usually he didn't allow Miss Babcock to get away with her insults when the situation called for it. And this definitely called for it.

"Yes, I heard, but haven't you-"

"Then stop glaring at C.C. and answer me, Old Man!" Maxwell cut across him.

What?

Couldn't he hear the insults Miss Babcock was so blatantly banding around them?!

"Is your hearing alright, sir?" he asked his employer, actually fairly concerned at this point. How could he not be hearing this?!

"There is nothing wrong with me in any way, shape or form, Niles," Maxwell replied sternly. "Did your head injury cause some kind of brain damage?"

"Pfft. What brain?"

Niles practically spun on the spot to face Miss Babcock, determined to catch her in the act of scoffing that time. But she wasn't even looking! Usually after a remark like that, she'd be grinning up at him in preparation for his retort...

"Stop looking around and face me, Niles!" Maxwell shouted.

The butler obeyed, getting irritated that there was some kind of trick being played on him, he knew it, and yet he didn't seem to be able to do anything about it.

And Maxwell was getting angrier by the second, "Now, you're going to answer me when I ask you if you really did fall and hurt your head."

Through very nearly gritted teeth (it hurt too much still to do it the whole way), Niles answered.

"Yes, sir. I did."

"Very well then," replied his employer, leaning back in his chair, "Do you need us to go to a doctor?"

"I think the right term is veterinarian," sniggered C.C..

That made it for Niles.

That, and the fact Maxwell simply wasn't doing anything to shut the socialite up!

"That's it Babcock!" he snapped, turning to C.C., who was finally looking up at him, apparently startled by his reaction.

"What did I do?" said the woman.

"Oh, will you stop pretending?" he replied, crossing his arms over his chest, "Keep your comments to yourself, Babcock. I know that the likes of you have an astounding tolerance for pain and little regard for what we humans call emotions, so let me put this in terms your subhuman brain can understand – this is no time for a. I promise I'll give you a treat if you are a good girl!"

"Alright Niles, that's enough!" Maxwell shouted, coming out from behind his desk. "I don't know what has gotten into you today, but I will not allow you to take your bad mood and unfortunate injury out on C.C.!"

Niles' face fell. Wha...?

He must have heard that one! It was clear as a bell!

"Don't give me that innocent look, Niles!" Maxwell continued to rage. "C.C. is sat here perfectly innocently, not saying a word, and you keep going off on her like she's doing you some grievous harm!"

Not saying a word? She'd been speaking all this time! Could Maxwell really not hear it? He was his oldest friend; he wouldn't look at him like he was if he really wasn't angry, and really didn't know what he was talking about or why he wasn't backing down from yelling at Miss Babcock...

Was...was it his head, doing all of this?

Oh God, maybe he really had ruptured something serious!

He began feeling for bumps again, this time with a tinge of worry attached.

"Maybe...maybe I did...damage something in that fall, sir," he admitted, not wanting to meet either his employer's or the other producer's eyes.

"Finally you admit you are damaged, Dust Buster..."

Niles flinched. Again, Maxwell gave no indication that he'd heard C.C.'s voice. Was he going mad? He probably needed to see a doctor urgently...

"What do you mean, Niles?" asked Maxwell, still fuming over his butler's outburst, but also visibly concerned for him - he was acting in such an odd way! That was evident for everyone in the room. Even to Niles himself at this point.

"I... I think I am hearing things..." he confessed, not quite being able to believe what he was saying. "I thought I'd heard Miss Babcock insult me..."

"Well, it looks like someone now has a one-way ticket to the loony house..." said C.C. again in a mirthless (if slightly worried) tone.

Wait...

No.

Said wasn't the right word here.

Niles was quite sure he'd heard Miss Babcock's voice indeed, but she hadn't spoken - he'd looked at her as she'd "spoken", and she hadn't moved her lips at all. Unless she was a talented ventriloquist, there was no chance whatsoever that she'd actually said what he believed to have heard. He had to be hearing things. The only other alternative was...no, that was impossible. Anyone who claimed they could do that was a charlatan and after money.

No, he had to go to a doctor. And the sooner the better.

Anything, to get Babcock's voice out of his head. It was torture enough that she was in the room!

Maybe he was starting to look as concerned as he felt, because Maxwell didn't look as angry anymore. In fact, he looked worried now.

"No one said anything, Niles," he said, his eyes darting back and forth between the butler and the door. "Maybe...maybe you really do need to go see someone..."

Despite the pain, Niles nodded, and his employer gestured towards the exit for him to go first.

"Come on - I'll drive you to the hospital," he said. "C.C., while we're gone you're in charge."

"Sure, Maxwell," well, Miss Babcock had definitely said that out loud!

But as he was walked to the door by Maxwell, he couldn't block out the voice as it came back.

"Sure Maxwell, not that I haven't been in charge of running this place for years, Maxwell," the voice was mocking this time, and full of contempt. "Useless idiot..."

Well...

That sounded like Miss Babcock...

Niles glanced back at the producer, who appeared to be just as annoyed as the voice in his head was. But then again, there was no indication that she'd actually said anything.

What on Earth was going on?!

"Well, Mr Brightmore, everything appears to be alright," said the doctor after giving several good looks at Niles' x-rays. They'd been taken upon their arrival to the hospital. "No concussion or brain damage."

Niles frowned. That wasn't necessarily good news. If there wasn't an injury, then why was he hearing Miss Babcock's voice?

"Are you sure?" said the butler, rubbing his sore head.

"Completely. There is some bruising, but that is about it. Nothing some painkillers can't fix."

"But what about the... uh... things I heard?"

The doctor sighed, and pulled a face which Niles couldn't describe as "concerned", but rather "concerning".

"Well, I can't make you go for it, but there is one thing I might be able to recommend."

"What is it?" Niles asked, now both worried and irritated in equal measure.

"Therapy," the doctor answered. "I'm no expert, but it seems to me like this voice is symptomatic of some deeper issue, and I do know a psychiatrist who might be able to help you explore that."

Therapy? Really? He'd never needed this kind of treatment a day in his life, and it had just come upon him all of a sudden? Well, he supposed that could happen to anybody, but other than the voices he didn't feel any different! Maybe no one else did, either. But all the people who'd gone felt like they needed to, and he didn't feel like he needed to...

"You don't have to say yes if you don't want to, Mr Brightmore," the doctor took up a pen and wrote something down on a card. "Just take this number, and if you feel like you want to explore this possibility, then call this number and book an appointment."

He offered the card to Niles.

He took it out of politeness, but he wasn't planning on calling. He wasn't insane - he couldn't be! The only unstable people in the house were Miss Babcock and, to a lesser extent, Miss Grace. He was sane. There had to be a logical reason as to why he was hearing voices. He was thankful for Maxwell having decided to wait for him outside - had he been in the room, he'd probably insisted that he go.

"Thank you for your time, Dr Madison," said the butler, giving the medical professional a forced smile. "Is there anything else I need to know?"

"Just take it easy," said Madison as Niles opened the door to his office, "Try to rest and take a painkiller if you need to. You will be alright."

Niles hoped so.

He really hoped so.

Having to live constantly hearing Miss Babcock's voice would be like being doomed. Speaking of which, he'd just realised that he hadn't heard her voice once since they had left the house. Not once, since they'd gotten to the living room, and all the way to the hospital. No intrusive thoughts whatsoever - especially not ones that came sounding like the producer. Maybe there was something to that...

The drive back would be a test of this new theory springing very quickly to his mind.

Maxwell got up from the seat he'd been waiting in upon spotting his butler.

"Everything alright, Old Man?" he asked, now only worried and not angry anymore. "What did the doctor say?"

Niles felt the card burning a hole in his pocket, but ignored it.

"No lasting damage," he replied. "Just bruising. Everything should be fine and return to normal eventually."

God, he hoped everything returned to normal eventually - especially if his theory was correct. He didn't know if he'd be able to stand it.

Maxwell leaned in, lowering his voice as though what he had to say was of the gravest nature, "And the, uh...the..."

"The voice, sir?" Niles asked, not entirely appreciating his clumsy attempt at being delicate.

"Yes, that's it."

"A mere side effect of being a bit dazed," Niles answered. He was surprised he was making this lie sound so effortless. "It hasn't happened since we've been out, so I'm assuming I've recovered from that part already. The doctor thinks so, too."

He had to add that part, before Maxwell insisted on knowing what Dr Madison thought. The story had to add up. Not that Maxwell seemed entirely convinced by what he was saying, but it wasn't like he could argue against what a medical professional had supposedly said. Niles knew he'd have to try and keep everything that had to do with this voice to himself, and with time his boss would forget about it, as he always did.

"Very well," said the British producer, a hint of uncertainty about his entire demeanour, "We should go home. You can take the today and tomorrow off, if you want. I'll buy take out on our way home."

Well... they say every cloud has its silver lining! His injury had at least come with something good.

Although the way home was silent, Niles was painfully aware of the strange looks Maxwell was giving him, but he pretended not to notice. He didn't really want to talk about what had happened, much less with someone who believed him to be slightly unstable. Heck, it was almost as if the man were expecting him to have a full-blown breakdown on the spot!

They made a stop at McDonald's before returning to the mansion, and Niles began to feel hopeful that this strange situation had come to an end, but as soon as he opened the kitchen door, the strange buzzing sound was back in his ears.

No... it wasn't a buzz.

It almost sounded like... a muffled voice.

And it was getting closer. The door to the dining room was swinging open as he opened the door to go inside!

"God, what took them so long?! I feel like I've been on my own here forever!"

The last part was the loudest, as Miss Babcock pushed her way through into the kitchen. She gave a faint smile up at them - well, at Maxwell, anyway. Niles, she ignored as he went to sit at the kitchen table, listening out for everything his mind said he could apparently hear.

Not that she was aware of that fact.

"Hello, Maxwell," she said, not bothering to greet Niles. "I left the files on your desk - all of them are signed and dated, you just have to read them over once more to make sure they're correct."

"Not that he needs to; of course they're correct," the voice said bitterly. "I did them just as I always do."

He then felt almost as if C.C.'s thoughts veered (in a manner of speaking) in his direction. It was an incredibly odd feeling... as though there were an invisible entity in the room.

"He looks miserable," said the voice, and it was followed by a gleeful cackle, "Fantastic."

That definitely sounded like C.C. Babcock.

"So, Rubbermaid, what's the verdict?" she asked (this time loudly) as she wheeled herself to the fridge, "Have you lost your marbles?"

He merely glared at her as she attempted to manoeuvre her chair so that she could open the fridge. But to no avail.

"For the love of God… even getting a damn soda is a pain in the ass!"

That was it!

To Niles that was his opportunity to see, once and for all, if he had lost his mind or not. He didn't really know how he'd feel if he was proven to be correct, but at the same time he needed to know that he was not crazy.

"Move away, you graceless oaf!" he said, getting to his feet and making his way over to the fridge, "There is no more cake, and unfortunately for you, we've also run out of Pedigree. The only thing you'll find in there, is soda."

"That's what I..." she started off annoyed, but then looked up at him strangely. "That's what I wanted..."

And in that moment, Niles knew he was right. It hadn't been some kind of dream or impossible thought after all. He opened the fridge door for her, mind too far away to register whatever Maxwell said as he left the room after having gotten her the drink that she'd asked for.

No. Not asked for. Thought about.

Because, whether he liked it or not and for better or worse, he could now read the mind of C.C. Babcock.