Title: One More Time with Feeling.

Summary: Niles and CC's antics find them in an interesting situation. On stage.

One More Time with Feeling

I

"I will not! You can't make me!"

CC Babcock, Bitch of Broadway, feared amongst the nine circles of hell, was stomping a heel clad foot and balling her fists like a child. Her pale cheeks were ripe with a flush, icy eyes narrowed in a glower, and blonde hair disheveled from a fresh battle in the kitchen. Her physical disarray was further enhanced by the innards of a well-aimed catsup bottle splattered across her beige business suit and a dark liquid smeared along her jaw line.

"You assisted in the destruction of my kitchen while I sported the company of Jonathan Sharpe-you do remember how much his net wealth is, don't you-in the next room over! I'd say it was the least you could do," Maxwell, despite his stern words, was trying desperately to reign in an amused smile. His business partner and butler looked utterly ridiculous.

Not believing her ears, CC gaped. "Well, he started it!" She jabbed a once, perfectly manicured finger at Niles and scowled. Covering that finger was the same dark liquid that was smeared across her jaw.

Silent up until this point, Niles-who was sporting a sweater vest that was splattered with the dark liquid that CC wore on her face and hands-rolled his eyes. "Your hideous visage frightened me, I was merely defending myself from permanent blindness."

"By squirting catsup on my jacket, you imbecile!? I could just…" she made a gesture that caused both men to flinch. "And then, I could…" she made a movement with her knee that caused both men to groan silently.

Maxwell was the first to recover, discretely clearing his throat to rid his voice of imagined pain, "Now, CC, I'm sure Niles didn't mean to…right, Niles?"

"Ohhh, right…" CC laughed low and slow, "and Nanny Fine doesn't mean to buy her skirts from the children's department."

Both men made to protest.

"I'm not doing it, and that's final!"

Maxwell, seeing her resolve slipping firmly into place, thought fast, "But Mr. Sharpe offered to donate half a million dollars to our next production if you agreed. If you did this CC, I would be thankful…no, indebted…" He looked to Niles and was reassured by the butler's discreet thumbs-up.

CC faltered, her face softening for a matter of seconds before she narrowed her eyes again. He always told her he would be indebted to her if she pulled off a scheme she wasn't comfortable with-and he never followed through. "Do you promise?"

"I cross my heart," Maxwell stressed, drawing an X on his chest with his finger.

"Your heart is on the left side of your chest sir, not the right," Niles corrected him, drawing his hands together apologetically when he received a glare from his boss.

The exchange made CC more suspicious of Maxwell's dubious nature, "I thought Sharpe was going to invest money in this production, regardless of my participation in this…this…What does he want me to do again?"

"Something about a community show-er, one scene plays or something of the like. He heard you and Niles and thought it was bloody brilliant, it's not my fault the two of you were going at it like rabid cats and dogs!" Maxwell looked indignantly at both and shoved his hands in his trouser pockets. "And you're going to participate!"

Niles gave a pleased sneer.

"He said you have a strong presence or something of the like-I didn't hear him over the sound of you two blowing up my kitchen!"

CC and Niles glanced at each other sideways and shared a frown.

"So, CC," He continued his tirade, "Either you participate in the show or you help Niles clean up your mess. You have one choice and it better well be the damn show!" Glaring at both, Maxwell strode passed them, "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go check on Margaret…she keeps whispering at Fran."

"Ooo, Babcock got in trouble…" Niles chimed when their boss had left.

Smearing her dirty hand through his hair, she gave him a dangerous smile, "Have fun cleaning the kitchen, servant."

"Alone!" She added at the door.

II

Jonathan Sharpe was a devastatingly beautiful man. His chestnut brown hair had been graying around his temples since the first time CC and Maxwell had met him, some four years earlier, that gave him an intelligent and stable aura. His face was soft and pale, clean shaven with a healthy rose hue (not the sort of red she saw on the older investors, the one's whose blood pressure could supply her entire building with electricity) and his eyes pleasantly almond shaped. What CC admired about his physical features the most was not his body but his mouth, with its truthful smile that promised the recipient that he was much younger than his graying temples portrayed and genuinely kind hearted. Sappy, she knew, and exactly why she kept her own mouth shut on the subject.

He was funny. He was intelligent. He was kind.

But along with his beauty was the fact that he was also devastatingly uninterested in women.

Not that he didn't find her interesting or a sight to behold herself, as he had teased often, but his affection for her was different as it was for…well, for the sake of an example…Maxwell.

That beauty was the only reason she didn't hunt him down and destroy him for demanding her participation in his insipid community theatre project as soon as Maxwell mentioned it.

Instead, two weeks after the impromptu and fateful food fight she'd participated in, CC found herself humoring Jonathan in the Sheffield den. She was a drink in and was displaying her rapier wit at his request…torn between the desire to strangle him for his demands and kiss him for his genuine laughter at her antics.

"Your wit, CC! I always knew it was quick, but never did I expect it to be this wonderful. How do you do it?"

"Practice," she growled after spotting Niles' snooping figure lurking by the piano.

"Practice? Come now, CC, we both know most of your time is spent with Maxwell. You couldn't possibly sharpen you words on him, he's oblivious." Spotting the butler as well, he added with a smile, "I mean that in the best possible way. It's rather endearing, actually."

"Yeah. Yeah. Say that when the Nanny's around."

"What?"

"Nothing."

"No, I heard…."

"Niles," CC called, interrupting Jonathan before he could finish his sentence. Maxwell and the Nanny weren't her favorite topic of discussion-and she knew Jonathan well enough to know he'd do his best to dig the tale out of her. "Stop hovering like the plague and go clean up a mess. Somewhere."

"Oh, I already have," he stepped closer to the pair and plucked at his finger tips before tilting his head to smirk at her, "but you just keep coming back."

Smiling demurely at her guest, CC began to stand, "If you'll excuse us for a second."

"Sure, of course." Jonathan watched them with interested eyes, but remained seated as both blonde and butler marched toward the door.

CC brushed into the dining with Niles loitering closely behind. When she was certain the door had swung shut behind him, she turned sharply and leaned a pale hand against the table. "Do not screw with me today, Niles."

"Have you been having that dream again, Miss Babcock? Tisk. Tisk."

That insufferable little…

"Cut it out! You did this last time Sharpe was here and look where it got me. I will not have you ruining another meeting! We need his investment!"

"Oh all right, I'll try. But no promises."

Glaring at him pointedly, CC tried to ignore the upward curve of his lips before stalking out.

III

"Oh, take your feather duster and shove it, you menial!"

"Unhand my vest, you withered tripe."

"Toilet fairy."

"Lush."

"Lackey."

"Monk!"

"Why you…"

"What the bloody hell is going on here!"

The scene froze as it was. CC and Niles were standing closely just beside the love seat-in CC's case, breathing heavily and quite red in the cheeks; in Niles', turning red with eyes bulging. Jonathan Sharpe sat, with a rather impressive look of shock and awe etched into his facial features, where he had been through the entire meeting, his eyes glued to the Business Associate and the Butler. Maxwell stood frozen at the front door, staring in surprised frustration at the scene the pair had created.

"Oh my god, CC, let go of Niles! You're strangling him!" Maxwell cried out a moment later, rushing into the room to pry his partner's hands from around his butler's neck.

After a moment of struggle, she relinquished her hold and took a step back, calmly straightening her blouse and skirt. "Maxwell, you're back early."

Niles spluttered and gasped.

"What were you doing" Maxwell shouted at the blonde, no longer caring that their investor continued to watch.

"Steroids," Niles supplied in a gravely voice, his hand raising to stroke his sore throat.

"Not another word from you, old man!"

"Simply what should have been done years ago," CC explained hauntingly, raising her chin stubbornly, "putting down the dog. He's suffered this existence long enough, don't you think?"

The butler glared.

So did the socialite.

"What am I going to do with you two?" Maxwell asked.

They both made to speak.

"That was rhetorical!"

Their mouths snapped shut and they smirked at one another.

A sound came from the couch, as Jonathan cleared his throat, "If I might make a suggestion."

"My god!" Maxwell cried out once more, "Jonathan, I'm so terribly sorry. These two, I can't control them. Please forgive me. I assure you, they'll be taken care of."

"No. No, Maxwell. It's quite all right, I haven't been this amused since…well, a couple of weeks ago when we caught them in your kitchen. I thought you told me this doesn't happen often…"

"It…well.." Maxwell spluttered.

Jonathan smiled, "Your butler is absolutely incorrigible, but who can blame him? Miss Babcock is quite frustrated when she's beautiful." Not waiting for Maxwell to answer, the investor continued, "In fact, I would almost say there is a chemistry there."

He ignored CC's scoff.

"They have a certain…spark to them that draws the eye, catches the interest, makes you lean in your seat. Wouldn't you say, Maxwell?"

"Well…I…" he gave up and went along, "I suppose your right, Jonathan. A spark. Yes." Sotto voice, he added, "A whole bloody forest fire, if you ask me."

"Maxwell!" CC argued, "That's absurd!"

"Listen to the Harlot, sir. She's right for once."

"Not another word from you two," He reprimanded.

They glowered.

"In fact," Jonathan stood, "it was so entertaining that I would be willing to over look this entire ordeal…"

"Really?" Maxwell's shoulders sagged in relief, he wouldn't have to fire the two idiots after all.

"That is," Jonathan smiled a dazzling smile, "for a small price."

IV

"No! Absolutely not!"

Well, I'll be, Niles thought idly as he watched the socialite stomp her foot in frustration at their boss. Mr. Sharpe was right, Miss Babcock is frustrated when she's beautiful. Not that he'd admit it aloud, but it was a nice thought to have while watching her cheeks flush a nice pink and her chest heave heavily under that white blouse while she protested animatedly against the investor's latest demands.

"You don't have a say, CC. If it weren't for you, this wouldn't have happened," Maxwell chided, doing his very best to keep his cool.

"If it weren't for me!? Maxwell, you heard Sharpe, it was the damn servant's fault! He started it!"

"Look at her, sir, how could I resist? OW!"

CC removed her three inch heal from the center of Niles' foot and glared at Maxwell, "You can't seriously be considering this. It's bad enough as it is, but you want to add…this…this…it," she jabbed a finger in Niles' direction, "to the entire thing as well. Are you trying to kill me?"

"Oh, Sir, please say that you are."

"Both of you, shut up!"

Contrite, CC and Niles took a step back from the desk and folded their arms.

Maxwell watched them, noticed their mirroring actions and inwardly nodded. Sharpe was right, he was actually right! Wait until Miss Fine found out. Those two had something about them that was undeniable-their words and actions always seemed choreographed, and their insults and pranks were good enough to amuse an audience. They had chemistry, albeit twisted, but chemistry nonetheless, and it was high time they use it to earn the company money.

Besides, Maxwell had dealt with it for years, it was time they made it up to him.

"Niles, you'll be sharing the stage with Miss Babcock in three weeks. You better hope this thing is a success or you'll both be looking for new jobs. And CC, well, you'll just have to suck it up and act along. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some paperwork to look through…in peace."

Grumbling, the pair filed out of the office, unaware of Maxwell's amused gaze following them.

Who'd have thought.

V

They were staring at them again.

CC ,while thoroughly distressed by the knowledge that she would be acting with Niles and therefore likely be humiliated in front of a larger audience than usual, had begun to come to terms with the situation by mid-afternoon that day. Except, of course, they were watching them. Again.

"Nanny Fine. Val," she snapped, pulling the water bottle from the refrigerator violently, "I don't know what Maxwell has told you, but if you don't stop gawking at me I'll be forced to tell Br…B…Brett, just what happened to his Gameboy."

"That you run out of batteries again?"

The look she threw Niles was sour enough to curdle the milk he was pouring.

"Be careful, Hazel. On day you're going to use up all your hot air. Then who's going to blow up your Inflate-a-Date?"

"Eh-heeeeeh" The shrill laugh cut through the moment, reminding CC that the two bothersome women were still in the room. "Mista Sheffield was right. They sizzle."

"We what?"

"I don't know Fran, I think it's more of a snap, crackle, and pop!" Val, with her wide, empty eyes, argued gently.

"Vaaaal, he said they had chemistry, not Rice Crisp treats. Geeze, you neva listen!"

CC leaned against the counter top, "Oh, will you two just leave!"

"Fine. All ya had to do was ask. Come on, Val, we know when we're not wanted." Fran stood and began to shepherd her friend out through the swinging door, "be careful Niles. Don't burn yourself. Eh-heeeh…"

Audience now gone, CC found herself relaxing. Well, as much as one could relax when around their natural born enemy. Adjusting, so that her hip leaned against the counter, she regarded him, "All right, Niles, we are both in the same boat now, and if we don't do well on performance night, both our butts are gone. So, it's time we come to a détente. At least, until this silly thing blows over."

Niles paused at the sink, the thoughtful expression on his face endearing…far more so than CC would ever care to admit out loud. After a moment of silence, he nodded imperceptivity, "May I still insult you?"

To most, the question would appear obscene, but to CC it was reasonable. Insults were, after all, the way in which they communicated. How else were they to tease, comfort, and humor one another? Surely they couldn't survive three weeks milling about in silence or sugary-sweet camaraderie. That's not how they worked. They lived for this.

Smiling, CC rested a hand on her waist and answered throatily, "Oh, baby, insult me all you want."

He smirked.

She sneered.

"But the second you pull a prank on me, you'll be singing soprano."

CC left while the pout was still fresh on his face.

VI

The next three weeks nearly followed smoothly; to the point that butler and socialite were immeasurably bored and itching for conflict.

Four days into the last week before the performance, Niles slipped red dye into CC's wine. If it weren't for Fran walking into the kitchen when she did, he might have found himself slaughtered at the hands of the socialite, who had his collar in one hand and a meat mallet in the other. When the nanny had left, mallet with her, after insuring that CC and Niles remained on opposite sides of the counter, neither could help but allow sultry smiles to possess their faces.

They weren't willing to admit that his prank and her subsequent reaction to it were like good sex after two weeks of celibacy, but the smiles said it all.

"Swine."

"Chicken."

VII

They stumbled into performance day, both ripe with anticipation. The strain on their nerves did nothing for their moods, and Jonathan's occasional check in to insure they knew when to arrive only added fuel to the anxiety-riddled fire. They'd rehearsed, of course, many times under the supervision of the investor and his friends in theatre; but there was only so much one could do to prepare for an improve performance.

"Who in their right mind makes two people who aren't regularly on stage perform an impromptu scene in front of college students?!"

Ignoring her sudden outburst-as it had been sudden, smack dab in the middle of her reading through a contract while sitting on the green settee-Maxwell flipped through the script he was looking over and frowned, "This is absolute rubbish!"

"Maxwell! Have you been listening to me at all?"

"What? Oh, yes, CC, of course." He didn't look up and merely reached for another script.

"I mean, we aren't even trained! This is ridiculous. I have half the mind to call him up and tell him that I refuse to participate."

That caught Maxwell's attention, "You'll do no such thing!"

Sighing, he set down his papers, "CC, the two of you will do absolutely fine. I've seen a couple of your rehearsals, the two of you think on your feet. Besides, it's not a featured event, merely a show for Sharpe's students. You're an example, not a Broadway hit."

"What if I choke?" She whined.

"Then it will be a hit," Niles deadpanned, walking in with a tray of tea.

The glare she shot him screamed, 'Don't screw with me today, Benson.'

"Ah, yes, anyway…" Maxwell, seeing the potential rise of tension, broke the silence, "While I don't know the prompt the two of you will be receiving, Jonathan has informed me that the roles he will be giving you require casual clothing."

CC paled.

Niles smiled.

"Very good, sir, casual it is."

"Yeah…right…" CC looked away from them and stared at her contracts. Her? Jeans? Together?

"Is everything all right, CC?"

"Yes, of course, Maxwell, I was just thinking of what I was going to wear. That's all…"

"Mista Sheffield! Mista Sheffield!" Fran's voice entered the room before she did, setting CC's nerves on end again. This day couldn't possibly get any worse, could it?

"Ma called, she wanted to thank you for the ticket to the show tonight."

Blue eyes caught blue eyes, and both butler and blonde shared a grimace of mutual distaste. Nothing went well when more than one Fine was sitting in the same room as the other. The last four years had been proof of that.

"Yetta too!"

Neither the producer nor nanny heard the two pained groans from their companions.

It would be a long night.

VIII

The sounds of voices could clearly be heard behind the scenes. Intermission was drawing to an end, and the college students, interested community members, and the entire Sheffield and Fine brood were chattering away until the lights dimmed.

CC and Niles stood backstage, both with sweaty palms, and both not looking at each other. Of course they were nervous beyond conceivable measure, this was their first time performing onstage-since boarding school in CC's case, since Eton in Niles'-and was certainly the first time either had performed without a set script.

Who ever had thought of this clearly hadn't been thinking of the well being of the performers. And with Niles' heart… the topic was one she had forced herself not to think about for weeks. The emotions were too stark for her to deal with, and still too fresh.

CC blinked rapidly at the thought and cleared her throat, spotting Jonathan as he and his assistant director walked their way.

"Well, good evening! Are you two all ready to perform?"

CC let out a pathetic mewling noise, and Niles nodded tremulously.

"Good! Good!" If either men saw their sad states, they didn't let it show. "As you both know, you're on next. Carter tells me you've already been given your prompts and have been given through intermission to collaborate the scene."

It was probably a good thing neither could talk, or one might just let it slip that hadn't used the time to prepare…just to figure out how to breathe correctly.

"Break a leg," Jonathan smiled, and after a moment with sincerity"…just not each others."

IX

The curtains opened on CC, who sat in a chair before a lone table at center stage. Next to her left arm sat a coffee mug, next to her right two pieces of paper, and there was the extent of their allotted props. She peered at the papers, her natural anticipation wonderful for this part of the scene, as any woman who was supposed to be reading divorce papers for the first time shouldn't look or exude comfort.

Her character, Annette, they had settled on, was to be in the middle of deliberating over the divorce when Gregory-Niles-her husband, Robert's closest friend interrupts. According to their prompt, Niles was to start the dialogue and she was to end the scene with the phrase, "What do we do now?"

Their scene, apparently, was the one that would make an example of tension.

She could kill Jonathan.

So, while waiting for Niles to enter stage left, she radiated a woman going through divorce as best she could. Experience could not be pulled from her parents' dealings with the legal battle, for both hadn't been around much for her to notice any shifts in their personalities. Besides, her mother was particularly cold and demanding…even without divorce proceedings nipping at her tail end. So, she took from prime time, from her friends' failed marriages, from her sister's poor run-ins with men. Her face radiated confusion, anger…and determination.

The sound of a simulated knock drew her attention to stage left, and CC looked up, "Come in."

Niles appeared, in his blue jeans and olive green polo-shirt-a splendid choice, but she would never say so. He rushed in, taking her by surprise as he stalked to center stage and gripped the table opposite of her, "Tell me, Annette," he grabbed the papers from under her hand and held them up, "was this your idea?"

While not angry, he sounded rushed, as if this situation was urgent.

"My idea?" she sounded affronted, setting the tone of how she saw their relationship for the audience. Annette and Gregory were not friends; his intrusion was not welcomed. "I thought you were just slow, but clearly this proves your stagnant…This," she stood and snatched the papers from him, "is Robert's idea, Gregory."

"Ah, well…" he stood back on his heels and addressed her suspiciously, her tone of voice setting him on edge. His keen blues eyes took her in from head to foot. Niles appreciated the dark jeans and beige blouse, he'd long since seen her in them, but the effect was stronger in the brighter light, and that appreciation shone on his face for the audience to see. "Remind me to congratulate him next time I see him…he's finally realized your worth. I'd divorce you too… but, then again, I'd have never married you."

CC took a step back and narrowed her eyes, "You have a lot of gal…"

"I've been saying it for years, this is merely the first time you've listened."

Crossing her arms, CC raised her chin, "Yes, well, coming from the man whose choice of wife ran off with the gardener…I'd say you weren't worth listening to."

"And you're the woman whose husband ran off with the nanny…" the smirk was barely there, but CC saw it and glared. A real glare, she couldn't believe he'd brought this into the scene.

Turning away from him, she paced across the stage, tucking the papers against her side as she went. She needed time to develop a response, to hide the true anger from her voice. Turning, she looked him up and down, "What are you doing here, Gregory? Rubbing it in? Getting one last dig in before you don't have any excuses to see me again? Because, trust me, once Robert and I are through…you won't ever see me again."

The tone shifted when he took a step toward her, "Tell me something, Annette, before I go. Do you love him?"

"Robert?" She looked down her nose at him, "Of course I do, he's my husband." Just the right amount of chill, of sterility, and the audience wouldn't believe a word she said. Annette was as ready for this marriage to be over as her straying husband.

Good, CC thought, her character was strong. Independent. Just like her.

God, she could use a drink.

Niles pulled a hand through his hair, giving his character a flustered appearance. "Well he clearly doesn't love you! Isn't this proof enough for you! Or are you willingly blind?"

Floored by the statement, she blinked, "What do you want from me?!"

"What only you can give me. You're absence," he deadpanned, clearly tired of her unwillingness to understand.

She cut across the stage like a sharpened knife through heavy tension and jolted to a halt only a foot from him. Niles wasn't certain if it was acting or true anger that made her settle one hand on her hip and point a finger at him with the other like a fishwife, but it was strangely enticing regardless. "For years-years!-I have been dealing with your…your sadism! And I'm not even married to you!"

"-That would classify you as a masochist."

A chuckle ripped through the crowd, the first response since the start of the scene, and she flexed her fingers as if expressing a life long, deep-seeded desire to wrap each pale digit around his neck. CC remembered the feel of it from three weeks before and let that satisfy her. Then, faster than Sylvia flocking to food, she planted her free hand on her hip and took a single step closer.

Silence echoed, but so did her pointed glare.

The audience was holding its breath, waiting for her response. Niles inhaled calmly through his nostrils, appreciative of the small whiffs of her perfume. The fresh pink growing beneath the theatrical makeup on her cheeks was very becoming on her. It meant she was no longer acting and no longer composed. Right where he wanted her, and the audience wouldn't be able to tell the difference-they'd only leave believing Niles and CC had a flair for theatre.

Oh, they had a flair, all right… Niles thought.

"Whenever you talk, Greg," her voice, although low, carried and baited all attention.

"Yes…" he supplied when waiting became too taxing.

"I want to take a plunger to your mouth to unclog all the crap!"

A spark ignited in her eyes; a fire erupted in his gut. Thems were fighting words.

Neither knew where the acting ended and reality began. There was a fine line between the two, and they were teetering on it.

Aware that he had been standing still for too long, Niles adjusted his posture so that he stood barely taller than her, "I'd apologize, Annette, but crap is all you warrant."

CC could scream-could but wouldn't. She could see that he was smug and was not going to let him destroy her in front of a full audience. Not in front of the first flock of people who seemed to be hinged on her emotions. On her side. Or, at least, her character's. for once. This should be hers, not his. CC Babcock was not going to be the punch line of his joke today.

"I warrant nothing from you. Nothing, not even this 'visit', not even your filthy gaze," her cool was fading under a rush of unwanted emotions-the crowd would see it as a tired woman fed up with the antics of her, what was he in this act again, her husband's closest friend.

If only CC knew that the audience saw something more, saw that she wanted to warrant the kindness she could see him giving others; pleasant smiles, not malicious, and perhaps an occasional sentence that didn't end in an insult, barb, dig…and that he wanted the same from her.

Requited love it seemed. Unhidden-requited love from everyone but each other. Or, as Jonathan would call it, their spark. He'd given them this prompt knowing where the butler would try to take it and where the blonde would try to refuse to follow. It would make for good theatre and, in this case, even better introspection.

There was a barely audible gasp among the females watching-the Fine's were discernable amongst the crowd-and CC didn't know why until she caught the movement and path of his hand in her peripheral. She steeled herself for what was coming the best that she could, by clenching her fists at her sides and tightening her jaw.

"I like gazing at you," he countered gravely, the rough pads of his fingers grazing across her cheek. The stone of her expression-cool ivory, he thought, like her heart-softened as his thumb brushed along the curve of her chin. She was equal parts convincing and humorous, with wide eyes and rigid posture, and he was nearly as enraptured as their audience. So beautiful, this woman, and soft to the touch.

"It never fails to make me feel better about myself." He played off, as if his character realized whom he was touching…

There was a single moment when her dazed vulnerability lingered-a moment flickering with the barest traces of hurt-and then there was nothing. Defenses raised and shoulders straight, she stepped back from him. The moment and spell were broken, and CC regarded him blankly, too proud to admit to herself, Niles and the audience that she felt the fool. His charm was disarming to even her, especially to her, and his exploitation of that was like a sharp slap. And with all these eyes watching them too…

Niles knew his mistake when her response was late in coming. This wasn't acting to her anymore either. Curious and emboldened by her reaction, he goaded her, "Oh, come now, what were you expecting?"

If she failed in front of all these people...if she burned…then the damage would be irreparable. Was he pushing too much too soon? Why, just three weeks before she had tried to strangle him because he teased her too hard…

CC folded her arms protectively over her chest and shuffled her feet, an endearing action he had never seen from her, and laughed softly without humor, "Lightening to strike…"

"Stone doesn't conduct electricity, Annette; you're safe."

Looking down, CC ran her tongue along her incisors, "Yeah…"

Spotting the trademark tag of her frustration, Niles recalled the prompt they'd been given and the bad direction in which they were currently heading. This needed to turn around before it ended oppositely of what he wanted it to. The last few weeks, months really, had been building up to this…or at least he hoped it had been…and he wasn't willing to let the chance slip by with a failure.

He was using this to parallel them, now…and he didn't want that parallel to end in disaster. Niles stepped toward her, then once again when she stepped back, and gripped her folded forearms, "Only because you are hardly the lightening type…"

"Right," CC snapped, "my broom would catch fire. I got it!" But there was a bit of a smile in there, she wasn't entirely enveloped in anger. Perhaps she'd go into this willingly. Neither were blind, only in slight denial, and with the tension hovering between them…no alcohol would be needed to make them spark this time.

The audience chuckled, and she relented to his attempt to tug her arms from her chest. Together they stood, two forces of nature facing, toe-to-toe, and his tight grip lowered carefully to her wrists. "That too," he dropped-another chuckle followed-"No, what I was inferring was that lightening is too sudden for you. You're stone, you need water; it slowly erodes your kind over time."

"Ha. Ha." But she didn't move and listened carefully, his expression was asking for to give him a chance.

His fingers wrapped around hers, "Robert's not the one for you. He's never been, you've both been deluding yourself from the beginning. This was never a marriage, it was a business association. I know it. You know it. He knows it."

She nodded slowly, pushing him to continue.

"He's lightening, and because you thought that's what you wanted you didn't notice the water at first," the gesture he made indicated himself. A pointed finger. She didn't run away screaming, that was as good a sign as he was going to get. "Then, after a few years, you noticed but didn't pay attention to it," his tone alleviated the heavy mood.

His thumbs stroked her knuckles, and he smirked endearingly when she shuddered. Even the audience could see that the conversation had taken a turn…he was wasn't talking about her anymore, he was talking about them.

"A decade after that…" my, was the audience the chuckling sort, "when you noticed the erosion, you tried to fight back, but I say it's time for you to realize that you can't win…"

"Why?" she breathed, fighting her vulnerability, although she knew he already saw it. She wasn't blind, she knew they were addressing something real here. Something that'd been hovering between them for months now. CC just didn't need him comparing her to the Grand Canyon, and she couldn't help but fear that he would.

"You tell me."

Realizing what conclusion he was drawing her to, CC gasped. "I can't. We can't! Robert…" Maxwell. Pipedreams. Imaginary obstacles and pipedreams standing in the way. Thank god she'd had enough control to say Robert.

"That's always been your excuse, from the first day. Robert doesn't care about you!" he stressed, face impassive, fully aware that Robert wasn't who she meant.

"And you do?!" She wanted him to; a startling conclusion, but comfortable in a displaced way.

"Yes," he admitted. "Very much so. Shame on me, loving my best friend's wife…"

After moments of startled silence, where CC stared at him in a serious and probing manner-surely the audience should breathe, it wasn't healthy to hold one's breath for so long-she saw, perhaps, one of the first signs ever of his sincerity and realized they were standing on the cusp of the scene's climax with only one way she wanted to take it.

"Prove it, then." With their hands still awkwardly joined, she stepped into him and pressed her lips to his.

There was a hush and stillness, then after a moment of uncertainty, cool air hit her fingers as his hands rested on her neck and cheek. CC didn't have time to consider how gently they held her to him, as his lips were coaxing her from the acting initiator to a willing participant with ease. CC's mind was everywhere, debating on how to make this work for her once the curtains fell when his use of her sigh to taste her ended the thoughts.

Niles was right-this wasn't lightening. Their slow build was immersion, timely erosion that couldn't be fought with fighting. There was an ebb to their embrace and a light pleasure in the way he pressed deeper and drew her in that she would happily drown in if she could.

What a new sensation. Why had she never considered this possibility before?

When they separated too soon after, it was to the sound of silence. CC found that she was fully pressed against him, her hands placed intimately on his shoulders while his gaze was locked on her breathless response…she found it pleasantly unnerving.

With the audience still in a trance, waiting for the resolution, CC found that this was the best place to end.

"All right," her breathless tone was thoughtful, "what do we do now?"

The uncertainty she exuded was real.

There was no way that kiss could be ignored.

What would they do?

Her answer was the dimming of the stage lights on his growing smile and the resulting burst of applause from the audience.

X

"No, Maxwell, absolutely not!"

"Be careful, sir, she has unsheathed her claws…"

A pained yip filled the office when the proclaimed claws dug fiercely into Niles' upper thigh. He gave her a pathetic glace and rubbed at the sore spot before taking a self-preserving step away.

"Once was enough-I'm still trying to wash the disgusting taste of him from my mouth," CC argued animatedly, leaning her hands and weight opposite of Maxwell on the desk. While she wasn't frustrated, her eyes held a glint of finality, proving that no argument would bend her will. She as a woman on a mission, and his wiles wouldn't work on her anymore.

"Ditto," Niles threw in, strategically gurgling from the mug of coffee he'd given her moment before. When he was sure neither were looking, he spit the contents back in the cup.

"But you did such a wonderful job! Jonathan was impressed, he offered another sum of money if you agreed to perform again."

Fran, perched on the corner of his desk, joined in, "You two seemed to enjoy yourselves enough the last time…Whoooha! What a kiss!" She fanned herself dramatically and kicked her foot up as she crossed her legs. "And what a scene! It was so realistic!"

"Nanny Fine!" CC seethed, "I was nearer to committing suicide than I was to enjoying myself!"

"And I was ready to help."

Niles yipped again-only, it was strained as if covering a purr. And, this time, when she removed her hand from his thigh, there was no sore spot to rub.

"You and Nanny Fine have a knack for slap-stick comedy, you perform for him."

"CC…" Maxwell began, trying to charm.

"No…you want the money so badly, you do it." Standing straight, she adjusted her jacket, "Now, if you'll excuse me, Niles spit in my coffee. I'll be off to get some tea."

Niles smiled sheepishly at Maxwell's glare, "I thought she wasn't looking, sir."

Bowing his head, the butler followed the blonde out as the nanny began highlighting her acting skills. The producer was too busy battling a nasal-induced headache to notice a pale hand grab Niles' tie and drag him out of the office. Nor did he hear the suspicious thud outside of the door or the throaty laugh.

Had Fran not brushed across the intercom button earlier that morning, turning it off, both might have heard a series of strange noises coming from the kitchen. As it were, they didn't, leaving Niles and CC pleased and willing to act out their own, more pleasurable prompts in full privacy.