TIMELINE: 5^th Season, no wedding yet, Maxwell hasn’t proclaimed his feelings for Fran. CC didn’t get heavy. The kids are 12, 16, and 18 respectively. Why? Because I’m the writer so tap-tap, welcome to my world!

Be Mine

by

IvanaBgood
(sandwench@yahoo.com)

A flurry of snow swept across her path as Fran stepped out of Chatterbox. The crisp, sharp air filled her lungs and she gathered her heavy coat closer to her neck as she made her way towards the limousine. A quick greeting to John, one of the string of drivers that Mr. Sheffield employed, and off they went towards the mansion.

Fran sighed happily and leaned back onto the plush leather upholstery.

"There’s a thermos of cocoa there for you, Miss. Mr. Niles packed it himself, that he did." John smiled at her through the rear view mirror.

"Ooo!" Fran pounced onto the thermos and carefully poured herself a cup. "Would you like some, John? There’s plenty."

He shook his head, "No Miss, it wouldn’t be proper."

"What proper, I work for Mr. Sheffield same as you do."

"Do you now?"

Fran looked up and saw the wink that he threw at her. She laughed gaily. "Okay, maybe I don’t work as hard as you or Niles or the maids that flit through the mansion like fairy godmothers. You know they’re there, but you never see them." She closed her eyes for a moment as she enjoyed the sweet warmth of the hot chocolate as it pervaded her body and seemed to cloak her in its intoxicating heat. "But I am one of the employees, just like you."

"No, Miss, you’re not like me or the others. You’re very special indeed. We’ve all noticed the remarkable changes in the master and it’s all your doing."

"Really?" Fran’s ears perked up and she leaned closer to the driver, her yenta-radar was on maximum reception. "What have you noticed? What’s different?"

"For one thing, he takes time to notice his surroundings. Before it was always work, work, work. Him and Miss Babcock that’s all they did. Try to raise money for their play. Then audition actors and musicians. It was always an eddy of action and reaction around here and then you flit on into our lives and everyone feels like ‘Do-Re-Me’ again, just like when the Missus was still alive."

"Do-Re-Me?"

She watched as he nodded his head briskly.

"You put a song in our hearts again, Miss. Mr. Sheffield most of all."

"Aww… aren’t you the sweetheart." Fran took another sip. "What else did you notice?"

"I’ve noticed that the children are more joyful. Why just yesterday Miss Margaret was regaling Miss Grace and Master Brighton about a speech she gave in her English class."

"Get out of here! Maggie stood up and spoke in front of her class?"

"That she did."

"And Brighton didn’t try to sabotage her or say something to hurt her feelings?"

"Oh no, Miss. Master Brighton and Miss Grace helped their sister write the speech."

Fran took a bite out of a warm, chewy chocolate chip cookie that Niles thoughtfully included with the cocoa. "I wonder why she never said anything."

"I would guess it’s because she didn’t want to cause you any embarrassment."

"Maggie could never embarrass me!"

"The speech was about you, Miss."

"Me?!"

"Yes. She was told to give an oral presentation about a life changing event in her life. She received high marks for it. If I may add, it was quite touching."

Fran didn’t know what to say after that and continued to enjoy her snack. John continued to talk.

"You’re different, you are. Almost like Mr. Niles. He’s part of the family, but because of his training and Mister Sheffield’s upbringing, they dance about the issue of the employee/friend relationship. But you not only step over the boundaries, you balled them up and threw them out the window. If you don’t mind me saying."

"I don’t understand. What do you mean? Am I pulling faux pas after faux pas and not realizing it? I’m from Flushing y’know… social blunders are something that we tend to letter in at high school."

John’s forehead wrinkled upon the sight of Fran’s quivering chin. "I’ve gone and done it again. Please, Miss, don’t feel bad. I meant to compliment you and I’ve done otherwise. What I’m trying to say is that your open nature is exactly what the family needs to close the book on it’s past and move on.

"I don’t want them to forget their mother."

"If I may, Miss?"

Fran nodded.

"Mrs. Sheffield was a wonderful woman. She was patient and kind and I never once heard her say a cross word. Except when Master Brighton was up to his high jinks."

Fran laughed. "He is a mischievous one."

"Yes, that lad could trick a leprechaun into giving up his own gold. Ah, here we are Miss, home sweet home."

"Thanks John. I’ve got one cookie left. You better take it before I get hippy."

John smiled and gladly took the sweet treat. "Now that would never happen in a million years. Beg your pardon, Miss Fran, but you’re the loveliest lady I’ve seen in quite some time."

"Aw... now aren’t you the sweetest thing!" Fran stepped out of the limo, but before walking away she gave John a kiss on his ruddy cheek.

He blushed, but his grin showed how much he enjoyed her affection.

"Miss Fine?"

Fran whipped around at Maxwell’s voice. She noticed his slight frown. "Hi Mr. Sheffield. What’s up with the knitting?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"That." She tapped the center of his forehead. "If you bring your eyebrows any closer it might make me think that you were upset about something."

Maxwell chuckled at her impish grin. Immediately the creases on his forehead smoothed out and his eyebrows separated.

"So... is there something you want to share with the class?" Fran smiled at him as he shook his head, but inside her heart was yammering and thoughts tumbled in her head like socks in a dryer. ‘Oh my god, it should be a crime for a man to look that good in a suit and tie. He could make a towel look good. Oh my god, a towel! Now why did I bring up a towel?! Naked chest, long muscular legs, a droplet of water meandering through dark chest hair, lower and lower...’

"Miss Fine?... Miss Fine?"

Fran shook her head and tried to pay attention. "Yes?"

"Are you coming down with something? Your eyes suddenly glazed over."

Fran thought for sure that she was drooling and wiped at her mouth. "No, I’m okay. Just hungry. Let’s go inside and see what Niles made for dinner."

Maxwell gestured for her to walk ahead of himself.

‘He’s such a gentleman," the nanny sighed to herself.

‘My god, look at how that dress hugs her body!’ Maxwell thought as his eyes traveled up and down her backside. He became angry at himself for his ungentlemanly thoughts. As a result his next question came out sounding harsh. "Must you walk like that?!"

Fran stopped all of a sudden. Maxwell crashed into her. He bit back a groan and stepped back quickly.

She looked down at her feet. "What’s wrong with the way I walk?"

"Your hips keep swaying. It’s maddening."

"What do you mean? I’ve always walked this way. Well, since my first beauty pageant anyway. I tripped on the catwalk and accidentally fell on top of a judge’s lap. He was really nice about it though and didn’t get angry."

"No surprise there," Maxwell muttered.

"What?"

"Nothing, Miss Fine. So your experience with beauty pageants taught you to walk a certain way?"

"Yes, I learned that if I step with one foot in front of the other like this..." Fran walked away from him.

Maxwell watched her legs cross as one foot went in front of the other instead of side by side. It was the sexiest walk he had ever seen.

"I got more points for poise after that.... Mr. Sheffield, are you listening to me? Mr. Sheffield?"

"Hmm...? Oh, yes, yes. Why don’t we see what our evening meal will be?"

Fran smiled back and walked through the doors and down the hallway.

When she was a safe distance away, Maxwell rubbed his forehead and muttered. "Nannies shouldn’t be allowed to have hips like that."

Fran grinned. She heard every word.

"Brighton, will you put that down! I’m trying to drink my coffee."

"But dad, its homework," his blond son protested as he zeroed in closer to his father’s face with the video camera.

"You mean like when you told us you were studying for science, but in actuality you were playing ‘Cosmic Avenger’ with your Gameboy for four hours straight," Fran cracked as she leaned her hip against the counter.

"No, this time I’m telling the truth... I mean," Brighton hung his head. He was busted. "Okay, this is for real this time. It’s for social studies. Mr. Banner wants the class to do a project on how our family interacts with one another. He said he wanted it all natural. We have to be ourselves."

"This is on the up and up?" Fran continued to interrogate.

Brighton nodded. "I’ve already got great footage of Maggie popping this humongous zit on her face."

Maggie’s eyes widened with horror. "You brat! Give me that tape right now!"

"Oh, I don’t know. I’m sure a certain Darren Stafford would love to see what you look like before you Maybelline," Brighton taunted.

"Fran!" Maggie looked appealingly at her nanny.

"Hand it over Brighton."

"Dad!" Brighton looked over at his father for support.

Maxwell avidly watched the material of Fran’s dress stretch and tighten as she leaned over the kitchen counter. "Hmm?"

His son rolled his eyes, "Never mind." He pushed a button on the camcorder and the video cassette popped out. "Here."

Maggie grabbed it and thunked her brother on the forehead with her fingers. "My room is off limits to you twerp and that goes for your camera too!"

Fran pulled a new video tape from behind the counter. "You’re not allowed in anyone’s bedrooms or bathrooms. I don’t care what this Mr. Banner said. No one is ever going to see what I look like without my Final Net." She pushed the back of her hair up to poof it more. She walked out and Maxwell soon followed.

Brighton frowned after them. "Now I have to start all over. Every time they see me coming with the camera, they either yell at me or grin and wave. How boring is that?!"

Suddenly a huge smile flecked with impishness filled his face. "After all it’s artistic license right? They can’t get mad at me for that." His fingers quickly made short work of the plastic wrap and popped the fresh tape inside. Then his eyes roamed around for the perfect place to hide the camcorder.

"With my remote control I bet I can get great footage tomorrow morning," he said to himself, snickering the whole time. "I’ll just attach a motion and sound sensor to the camera!"

"Hi Fran."

"Hi B. It’s already Saturday afternoon, are you almost done with your school project?"

"Not yet, but soon," Brighton answered with an innocent air. He stepped through the kitchen door and when he saw Fran turn her back, he quickly pushed the button on the remote control and shoved it back inside his jeans pocket. ‘An eight hour tape should be enough.’ With a mental slap on the back, he left to go hang out with his friends.

"Gracie!" Fran yelled up the back stairs. "Hurry or you’re going to be late for Tricia’s party! Maggie, Darren is here and he’s alone with your father!"

The quick clattering of shoes raced down.

"Oh no! You left Darren alone with Dad?!" Maggie was horrified and she ran through the swinging kitchen door.

"Fran, are you sure Tricia will like the present you picked out for her?" Grace asked anxiously.

"Of course, angel. I know when I was twelve I would have screamed with joy to get a carton of Mallomars and besides you reminded me about the party this morning and there was no time to go to FAO Schwartz. It was either Mallomars or a jar of mustard. Although the mustard would work if she’s a big hotdog eater, is she?" Fran raised her pinky finger up questioningly.

Grace shook her head.

"She’ll love the cookies," Fran assured the little girl and escorted her out the door to the town car.

The kitchen door swung into the room and the red light on the camcorder shone brightly inside the china cabinet at the corner of the kitchen. Unfortunately no one noticed it since Brighton wisely covered it with masking tape.

CC entered, her long navy blue skirt rustled quietly as she walked. Her eyes quickly surveyed the room and with a disappointed sigh she picked up the coffee pot and poured herself a cup. She looked up abruptly as the kitchen door banged into the wall as Maxwell strode in.

"Whatever is the matter with you?"

"It’s that boy that Margaret is seeing."

"What’s wrong with him? Does he work at a gas station or something? Ooo – does he... you know... toke it up?" She mimed like she was smoking marijuana.

"God no! And thank you for giving me more things to worry about!"

"Well, what are you traumatizing about then? He looked like a normal teenage boy to me."

"That’s just it. He looked normal which means he’s wild. It’s a classic case of the perfect duplicity."

CC rolled her eyes as she sipped her coffee. "Maxwell, your daughter will be fine with him. You and Sarah always had time for her and although it pains me to say this, Nanny Fine has been a tremendous help in getting her out of the shell she was in after Sarah died. You should be proud of your daughter. You need to trust her more."

Maxwell smiled. "Thank you CC. That helped immensely. I dare say your parents must also be proud of you."

CC made a face and shrugged.

Maxwell frowned. "How could they not be? You’re successful and intelligent. And despite that facade you enjoy hiding behind, I know you have a good heart as well."

She smiled softly at her business partner and then cast her eyes downward. "My home life was... difficult."

Maxwell nodded understandingly. "My father and mother wouldn’t win a gold medal in the Parents Olympics."

"I don’t think my mother would even place, Maxwell. Do you know that when I was a child I convinced myself that I was the only little girl in the world that Santa Claus forgot every Christmas?"

"How so?"

CC began to reminisce...

Each cup had a matching plate. And each plate had its own solid silver fork, spoon and butter knife. Eight perfect place settings and CC could only use one of them. It was okay really, she managed to convince herself. So what if stupid Sally Sheridan didn’t invite her to her eighth birthday party.

"I didn’t want to go anyway," CC muttered under her breath as she gently fingered the carefully etched filigree and the red rose softly painted upon the miniature china cup.

"CC dear, what have I said about garbling unintelligibly to oneself?"

"Young ladies must only speak in a clear, concise way," CC answered automatically as she watched her mother place a demure diamond earring into each ear. "Do you have to go tonight, mother?"

"What a silly question! Of course I have to go. One does not turn down an invitation from the Kennedys. Now enough of your childish prattle. Take your present and go play."

CC sighed, "Yes mother." She placed the cup back into the wooden cabinet that it came with, closed the door carefully and turned the shiny gold key.

"One thing about your father, he has always had impeccable taste when it came to gifts," BB Babcock remarked as she watched her youngest daughter carefully cradle the small cabinet with its fragile items inside.

CC nodded, noticed the way her mother arched her eyebrow at her and hastily answered. "Yes mother."

BB smiled and then switched her attention to herself as she patted her bouffant in place. "Now

you make sure you listen to your Nanny Bobo. DD and Noel will be here in a week to play with you. I don’t know why you didn’t visit your father with them. Sometimes you make my life so complicated."

"I don’t like Beverly," CC pouted.

"Who does, dear? One must do what one must do under the circumstances. If your brother and sister can hide their feelings for their new stepmother, so can you. But since you decided to be so impossible you will have to amuse yourself."

"Yes mother." CC looked up at her mother between the wisps of her brown bangs. "Mother?"

"Yes, CC, what is it?"

CC watched as her mother turned this way and then that way in front of the floor length mirror. She took a deep breath, "I was wondering..."

"Yes?"

CC bit her bottom lip and gathered her courage. "Thank you for my present, I really like it." She blurted out instead. Her eyes closed as she chastised herself.

BB smiled into the mirror. "You’re welcome. Every little girl should not only have a black mink coat, but also a white one depending on one’s outfit."

"I was... that is..."

"For heaven’s sake CC, what is it?"

"Did Santa leave me anything this year? I was very good."

BB gave a tiresome sigh. "You have asked me this question since you were five and what have I told you each time you’ve asked me?"

"Santa Claus represents the males’ means of keeping females under their thumb. If one believes in Santa Claus then one believes there is one supreme male who decides who shall get a present and who shan’t, thereby elevating men to a higher level." CC answered in rote.

"Precisely," BB nodded as she gathered her fur cloak about her shoulders.

"But Sally Sheridan told me she got two Mrs. Beasley dolls from Santa and I know I was nicer than she was this year." CC couldn’t help but complain. It’s like it didn’t matter if she was nice or not to people.

"We’ll discuss this when I come back."

CC watched her mother leave in a cloud of Chanel #5.

Another year went by and another Christmas arrived. CC fingered the cover of one of the books laid out in front of her. Using the end of her forefinger she made the cover rise up and down as she made a face at her present.

"What’s wrong kitten? I thought you would love to have the entire first published collection of Nancy Drew Mysteries. I made sure they were all autographed."

"It’s lovely father, "CC managed to smile at him. "I’ll enjoy reading them."

Stuart Babcock patted his daughter’s head fondly. "I know you will. But I can tell that something is bothering my little poppet. What is it?"

"I received very high marks in my report card."

Stuart’s smile broadened. "You sure did."

"And even though it tastes foul, I take each spoonful of castor oil that Nanny Bobo gives me every night because she thinks it’s good for me."

"CC, sweetheart, is there a point to this? Now that Beverly took the rest of my money that you’re mother wasn’t able to get her claws on I have to work even more. My car is here to take me to my ship."

A crestfallen look fell upon his daughter’s face. "Already? I thought we could play a game or something?"

"I’m sorry, kitten. I wish we could, but the ship can’t very well sail without its commander now can it?"

She shook her head forlornly. "No father."

He nudged her chin and winked, "That’s my girl. There are more presents under the tree for you. Why don’t you go and find out what they are? Your sister and brother are finished with theirs and might start working on yours if you don’t hurry."

Bravely, CC curved the edges of her lips up and nodded. "Thank you, father." Her eyes closed tightly to keep the tears in as her dad gave her a quick warm hug and with a loving smile he was gone.

CC sighed as she finished her story to Maxwell. "It was like that every year. I know my father cared for me and my mother did as well. It’s just that they were both in their own little world."

"Oh CC," Maxwell came over and gave her a hug.

CC’s eyes glistened, "Thank you Maxwell. I don’t know why I’m getting so emotional."

"Well, I do. Valentine’s Day is just around the corner and not to sound like a male chauvinist, but I’ve noticed that women tend to act quite strangely right about now. All that rubbish about hearts and flowers."

The kitchen door swung gently open and CC immediately turned around and carefully wiped her tears away, making sure she didn’t smudge her eye make-up.

"Ah, there you are Niles. I wanted to discuss this weekend’s menu with you."

"Does that mean you will not be celebrating the holiday this year, sir?" Niles asked

"No, Niles, unfortunately I don’t have a valentine to celebrate it with. How about you, old man, any plans?"

Niles quickly looked over at CC. As soon as their eyes met they both hastily looked away.

"I’m afraid not, sir. Like you, I am alone as well."

"Not to worry, Niles. You could still make a splendid guinea fowl for dinner and then we can find a good swashbuckler of a movie on. How does that sound?"

"Riveting, sir," Niles answered dryly.

Maxwell clapped him jovially on the back. "We best get back to work, CC." He exited the room.

CC nodded and walked out without a word to Niles.

"Well, that was strange," Fran remarked, closing the door behind her as she entered the kitchen from the outside.

Niles looked over to her. "What was?"

"You and Miss Babcock. Both in the same room and not one zinger between the two of you. What’s up with that?"

"I’m sure I don’t know what you mean." Niles busied himself with the dishwasher.

"Come on Niles. We can do this the easy way or the hard way. Either way you know I’ll get you to talk."

A pot lid clattered to the floor and Niles bent to pick it up. He exhaled noisily. "Yesterday, I ran into Miss Babcock."

"With a car?"

Niles grinned, "No, a shopping cart. I needed a certain spice to make my Chicken Kiev and I turn around the corner and bam, clean-up in aisle five."

"Yeah, so what happened?"

"We talked."

"You talked?"

"We chatted."

"You chatted?"

Niles gave her an exasperated look.

"Sorry, but I was hoping for more titillation. Talking and chatting isn’t really up there with flirting and you-know-whatting," she elbowed Niles.

"Me and Miss Babcock?!"

"Oh, don’t give me that. You two come after each other with quip after prank, after hoax after gag. It’s like watching an old ‘Honeymooners’ episode only you have a much better physique than Jackie Gleason."

Niles patted his stomach. "Well, it’s a lot easier now that I cut down on the brie."

"So you two talked. What did you talk about?"

Niles shrugged. "This and that."

"Niiiiles! Come on – dish! I know a good gossip when I hear the start of one, but first tell me if this calls for a Dove bar or should I just go straight for the Ben and Jerry’s?"

"Dove bar," Niles answered and then continued with his story, "As soon as the accident happened I apologized before I knew it was her. And she was swearing to high heaven until she realized it was me. Then her obscenities really started - the mouth on that woman!"

"Really?" Fran winked as she unwrapped her ice cream.

Niles chuckled, "I only meant that she knew words that would embarrass a sailor. Anyway, we had a fairly decent chat considering."

"Considering..." Fran made a go on gesture with her hand.

"Considering it was Miss Babcock and I. As you’ve put it in the past, we’re more Tweety Bird and Sylvester."

Fran balanced the hard chocolate shell on the stick before it could fall off, "Or Bugs Bunny and Daffy Duck. Those two had a love-hate thing going on as well, but you knew deep down that they cared for each other. But you know... not in that way because they’re both males and this is Saturday morning cartoons we’re talking about and...," Fran noticed Niles tapping his foot, "So then what happened?"

"Nothing. I helped her pick up the loaf of bread that fell out of her basket when we crashed and then an acquaintance of hers spotted her and I was immediately back in the leper colony again."

Warm water streamed out of the faucet as Fran washed her sticky fingers. "I’m sorry Niles. Maybe you should just forget Miss Babcock and move on. I mean, I know you’ve never said it in so many words, but I know you like her. Thing is, I don’t think she likes you that way. She was probably talking to you to butter you up for something."

"I suppose I should be use to it by now. I’ve been treated differently all my life it seems."

"What do you mean?" Fran handed Niles a Dove bar and he smiled in thanks.

"It was quite difficult being a butler’s son," Niles continued to explain by telling Fran what it was like when he was younger.

His memories drew him away, back to when he was sixteen...

Niles suddenly fell forward as he felt someone push him hard on his back. He turned around when he felt a blinding pain on the left side of his face. Before he could recover and see whom his assailant was, he felt someone’s fist pound him on his stomach.

He immediately doubled over, grabbing his stomach and swayed upon his feet.

He then shook off the pain and got into battle stance when he heard a girl yelling.

"Phillip! Phillip, stop! Stop!"

Niles watched the beautiful brunette grab her boyfriend’s arm just as he was taking another swing.

"Let go, Fiona! He’s getting what’s due."

"Leave him alone!" With one final shove she pushed Phillip McNaught away.

With her chest heaving and the braided plait of her swinging, Niles didn’t think he would see a sunrise that could rival the resplendent sight that beheld his vision at that moment.

"Stop looking at her, you pillock!" Phillip spat, bearing down towards Niles once again.

Fiona pushed her way between them and although she was just barely over five feet tall, the look on her face made Phillip think twice before saying what was on his mind.

In between gritted teeth, Phillip snarled as he glared at Niles, "I saw him talking to you. He thinks that just because he lives in that big house, he thinks he’s better than us. Well, he’s not!"

The side of Niles’ face felt like a two ton sledgehammer slammed into it. He wanted to rub it, but he wasn’t about to give the jackass the satisfaction. "I never said anything like that."

"You don’t have to," another boy retorted, as his eyes passed over Niles’ immaculate suit and tie. "You walk around the neighborhood like you were the Duke of York."

Niles looked down at his fitted designer suit and tucked in his red tie. Since he had lost weight, his new suits favored his new physique. He wasn’t about to explain himself to these blokes, but inwardly he sighed. Once again he found himself not fitting in. Being the son of the butler of the Sheffields, a family known for many years for their affluence, was never easy. And being in servitude himself as a butler to the eldest son added to the complications in his life. The ‘ordinary’ chaps who lived in town disliked him on sight because of his ‘airs’ as they like to constantly point out. And yet, he was treated like a robot amongst Maxwell’s peers.

"You think you can go around with your money and make time with our girls," Phillip said as he wrapped an arm around Fiona’s shoulders.

Niles looked around. Besides Phillip and the other boy who talked to him there were three other boys in scruffy jeans and T-shirts. And three girls, including Fiona. All three looked at him with shining eyes.

A blonde in a tight sweater and short skirt walked over to him and smiled flirtatiously, "He can make time with me around the clock."

Another blonde with slightly crooked teeth grinned as she sashayed over, "Me too."

"Leave him alone – he’s mine!" Fiona said as she pulled away from Phillip and tucked her hand around Niles’ arm.

"That’s it, mate. Time for you to taste blood." Phillip doubled up his fists and swung at Niles.

But this time Niles was ready for it. He carefully pushed Fiona away and effortlessly dodged the punch. He dodged another one and then blocked.

"Are you going to fight or what?!" Phillip spit out angrily as he threw another punch at Niles’ face.

Niles blocked it and with lightning speed, hit Phillip on the left side of his face. The big guy went down. At the sight of their fearless leader out-cold on the pavement, the other four boys grudgingly looked at him with respect.

"Nobody has ever hit Phillip before and you knocked him out" the second fellow who had talked to Niles earlier, stepped towards him.

Niles raised his fists and the other boy immediately put his palms up.

"I don’t want to fight you. That’s some punch you have. What’s your name?"

"Niles."

"I’m Rick, that’s Wally over there," a boy in a striped shirt and dark eyes nodded at him,

"that’s Jake and Swan."

Tristan raised his chin in simultaneous greeting with the tall, gangly youth next to him.

"Swan?"

"His first name is Dwight Reginald," Rick whispered. "He likes to go by his last name."

Niles nodded understandingly.

"I guess maybe we were wrong about you. No priss can hit like you just did. What’s with the threads?"

"It’s part of my profession. I am employed by the Sheffields."

"Must be an easy job, hey, working in a fancy joint like that," Jake remarked. His dark African looks reminded Niles of a young Sidney Poitier.

"Not particularly, no."

"Don’t you just love the way he talks? Hi, I’m Kimberly." Her crooked teeth gave her an endearing,

child-like look about her.

Niles smiled, "A pleasure to make your acquaintance."

Kimberly began to fan herself, "He looks and talks like a movie star."

The other blonde stepped up to him. She was so close that Niles could see the silver fillings in

her teeth. "I’m Michelle... wanna ring my bell?"

"Step off, Michelle," Fiona pulled her away and walked into her spot. "Hi Niles, I’m Fiona. Thank

you for what you did earlier. I never had a guy open the door for me before."

"Why should we? You got arms!" Rick replied. "So you work for the Sheffields. How come a guy

like you has a profession already? You don’t look that much older than us."

"I’m sixteen."

"We’re all sixteen, except for Swan there, he’s still fifteen. So how come?"

My father buttles for the senior Sheffield. My mum is their maid and in order for me to live there, my parents were told that I in turn must work for their son."

"How old is he, the son I mean?"

"Thirteen."

"You have to take orders from a snot-nose kid?"

"More or less."

"That’s rough," Jake said then he looked over at the still prone Phillip. "How’d you learn to fight so

good?"

"I not only buttle for Maxwell Sheffield, I also have to protect him. I took self-defense lessons when he did."

"If he took ‘em," Swan wondered, "how come you had to?"

Niles shrugged, "I have to be with him at all times and so because I was there, his instructors felt that it would be in his best interest if I could back him up in case he were ever in danger."

A buzzing noise was heard.

"What’s that?" Rick glanced around in puzzlement.

"Maybe it’s a big bug, like from those monster movies," Kimberly looked fearfully up at the skies.

"I’m afraid it’s me," Niles held up his arm and his sleeve fell down enough for them to spy a thin

silver watch around his wrist. "Maxwell sent me to the store for some sweets," Niles looked

around for the paper bag he had dropped after he was attacked.

"Maxwell? Oh, is that the snot-nose kid you work for?"

"In his defense I should point out that his grooming skills are impeccable."

"Ditch him."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Yeah Niles, come hang out with us. We were just about to go to the bowling alley," Kimberly gushed. "You could be my partner."

"No, be mine!" Michelle insisted as she tugged him over to her side.

Fiona scowled, "I told you that he’s with me."

"No he isn’t."

Each person whipped around.

Phillip’s anger was felt by everyone. He slowly got up and then looked at Niles with glittering eyes and a resentful scowl. "Why are you guys being nice to the git? He’s a big loser with a capital L."

"Phillip, Niles isn’t so bad..." Wally began to say only to stop as Phillip threw him the dirtiest of looks before turning his attention back to Niles.

"You don’t belong here, you get me?" Phillip bit out. "Go back to your la-di-da mansion in your fancy, snobby clothes."

Niles gave him a long look and stepped towards him. Phillip took a step back and then cast his eyes around his pals. They all gave him the nod. Phillip was their leader and they honored the pact they made to be there for one another. Niles caught the entire interaction and knew that he was once again not welcomed.

With a quick turn of his heel he left.

"And that’s how it was with Miss Babcock at the shop," Niles said as he finished his story to Fran. "Sometimes we can be quite civil with one another, but it doesn’t last. For some reason she seemed like she wanted to talk to me yesterday, but as soon as someone in her circle came by I was the non-existent servant again. Not that I help matters with the way I bait her."

"Oh, Niles, that’s the saddest thing I ever heard," Fran took his hand in hers and gave him a consoling squeeze. "Wait, no, the sound of my mom biting into a turkey leg as she pedaled on the exercise bike, that’s the saddest thing I ever heard. Your story is a close second."

"It’s okay, Miss Fine, I’ve learned to live with it."

"But you shouldn’t have to. At least Mr. Sheffield doesn’t treat you like that."

Niles raised his eyebrow at her.

The kitchen door swung open once again.

"Ah, there you are Miss Fine. CC and I wrapped things up earlier today and she has already left for home. Would you care to join me for dinner at Tres Magnifique?"

Fran’s mouth pursed into an O. "Tres Magnifique! I’ve always wanted to go there! But wait what about Niles?"

"I’m sorry, that was very rude of me. Niles?"

Niles answered eagerly, "Yes sir?"

"I won’t be requiring dinner tonight. Why don’t you take the night off, old man?"

Niles’ disappointment at not being invited soon disappeared at the thought of relaxing with the London Times, a good cigar and a snifter of brandy. "Thank you sir."

"Think nothing of it. Just make sure that the patch to my brown tweed jacket’s elbow is attached firmly. And oh, I’ve been meaning to inform you that a button fell off of it. Be a good man and find a matching one and sew it on. I’ll need it for an important function next week."

Niles visibly deflated. "Yes sir. Anything else I can do for you? You don’t happen to have pants that need altering as well, would you?" He asked sarcastically.

"Now that you mention it..."

Fran pulled at Maxwell’s arm. "Maybe we better go?" She looked at Niles and sent him a comforting smile.

Maxwell nodded at Fran’s question and then looked around. "Maggie is off on a date with that Darren chap. Gracie is attending her friend Tricia’s sleep over. Where is Brighton, Miss Fine?"

Fran’s eyes boggled wide open. "I should know that, shouldn’t I?" She looked around and then snapped her fingers. "He went to the mall with his smelly cheese friend and then afterwards they were going to catch a movie."

"Splendid," Maxwell smiled down at her. Something behind Fran caught his eye. Something long forgotten that was leaning against the breakfast table. "Niles isn’t that your old guitar?"

Niles grinned, walked over to it and picked it up. "Yes. My mum found it in the basement and shipped it over. I’ve missed it all these years."

"Can you still play?"

Niles flexed his fingers, "A bit rusty I’m afraid, but I’ll soon get the hang of it again."

"I remembered how you calmed down my sister and brother with your songs when nothing else could," Maxwell smiled fondly in remembrance. "Forget fixing my jacket. Relax tonight, you deserve it."

"Thank you," Niles answered with a playful grin, "Indeed I do."

Maxwell smiled back and tossed off a wave as he walked out with Fran.

Niles sat down and strummed the strings. He looked up and caught his reflection on the china cabinet’s glass door. As he fingered the strings a recognizable melody soon floated into the air and Niles sang the words to it.

"Look at this face; I know the years are showing,

Look at this life – I still don’t know where it’s going,

I don’t know much, but I know I love you and that may be - all I need to know...

Look at these eyes, they’ve never seen what matters,

Look at these dreams – so beaten – and so battered,

I don’t know much, but I know I love you and that may be – all I need to know...

So many questions still left unanswered,

So much I’ve never broken through –

But when I feel you near me, sometimes I see so clearly,

The only truth I’ve ever known is me and you---"

Suddenly a twang rented the air and Niles swore as one of his guitar strings broke.

"Nothing ever goes right for me," Niles was feeling down. "Everyone is out having a good time and I’m having a pityfest." He shook his head in chagrin and with a sigh he laid his guitar down in the corner and pulled out a bottle of brandy from inside the cupboard. He lifted up the shotglass and toasted, "To the woman who holds my heart... to CC Babcock. I wish you were mine." Niles tossed back the drink, quickly swallowed and with the guitar in one hand, he switched the light off in the room and walked out.

Moments later, a soft whirring noise was heard coming from within the china cabinet and then the red light blinked off behind the masking tape.

The next morning, Brighton eagerly rewound the tape. After the movies the previous night, he tiptoed in and retrieved his camcorder from its hiding place. He giggled at the things caught on the tape. Like Maggie getting worried about her boyfriend alone in the same room with their dad. And then Gracie giving cookies as a birthday present. Then he listened raptly to the conversations between his dad and CC and then Fran and Niles. He learned a lot about his family that day and he was proud of them.

"This is an easy A!" Brighton congratulated himself on a job well done. He was surprised when he saw Niles begin to play the guitar. "I didn’t know he could play. Wow, he’s good." Then his chin dropped to his shin when he heard Niles proclaim his feelings to CC in the quietness of the room.

As soon as he heard the tape stop inside the machine he pushed the EJECT button and pulled it out. He had thought about this long and hard before he fell asleep last night and was convinced that his plan was the right thing to do.

Maxwell lifted the wine bottle to refill Fran’s glass when she covered it quickly. She shook her head and smiled at him.

"One drink is my limit."

"Are you sure, Miss Fine? This is a very good year."

"Positive. You know how I get or do I have to remind you of the night when you ended up in my bed."

"In your bed?! Miss Fine, you were the one-" He caught her grinning at him. "You’re teasing me, aren’t you?"

She chuckled, "Just a little."

As Maxwell took another bite of his filet mignon, Fran looked around the restaurant. It surprised her at first that they were able to get a table at such short notice, but as soon as the maitre d’ spied Maxwell enter with Fran on his arm, he immediately greeted him and seated them right away.

She forgot sometimes how famous this man sitting across from her truly was. Nearby whispering caught her attention and Fran turned to look over at a couple a few tables away. The perfectly coifed woman with a not so subtle diamond ring on her finger was pointing in their direction and trying to get her companion to do something that he was reluctant to do.

Fran turned back to her meal and smiled up at Maxwell before she took a bite of her linguine. "I think you’ve been recognized."

Maxwell just grinned in answer. "Are you enjoying your-"

"Excuse me."

Fran looked up to the same man she had been observing only moments ago.

"Please pardon the intrusion, I don’t normally do this, but my girlfriend over there is a big fan of yours Mr. Sheffield. A big fan! But she’s shy, you see, and so I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind giving her your autograph?"

"Certainly, I would be happy too," Maxwell smiled. Quickly he took the pen that the man offered him and asked what his girlfriend’s name was and promptly signed his name under a short greeting. "There you go."

"Thank you," the man shook Maxwell’s hand and rushed back to his giddy girlfriend.

"Oh-wait," Maxwell held out the pen, but the couple was leaving and didn’t notice. The Broadway producer, shrugged his shoulders, capped the pen and tucked it inside his jacket pocket. I get a lot of pens that way."

Fran chuckled. "Fringe benefits of being famous. So, what’s it like to be well-known?"

A faint tinge of pink spread across his handsome features. "It’s nothing special."

"Aw, c’mon, no need to be modest. Have you ever demanded a bowl of only yellow M&Ms in your dressing room when you appeared on Oprah?"

"Of course not! I’m partial to the green ones," he winked and Fran laughed.

"When I was younger, I had dreams of being famous."

"You were a model," Maxwell noted.

"Yeah, but what I really wanted to be was a pointer girl. It was my childhood dream."

"I’m sorry. A pointer girl?"

"Yeah, you know, like on Price is Right, the game show? Bob Barker would talk about these different items you can buy at a store and the contestant is supposed to guess how much each item cost. The pointer girl is the one who points at each product. Very classy!"

"I’m sure you would have been great at that."

"You’re not patronizing me again, are you? Like the time I wanted to be a weather girl?"

Maxwell put his hands up, "Very heartfelt, believe me."

Just then, the waiter pulled up with the dessert cart.

"Ooo, watch this!" Fran popped out of her seat.

The young waiter looked curiously at the stunning brunette who gave him her most engaging smile.

"Help me prove something to Mr. Famous here, willya?"

"I will do anything you want." The waiter answered quickly, admiration clearly written in his eyes.

Maxwell frowned, not liking the way the tall, hard-muscled young man’s eyes followed Fran’s every move.

At Fran’s directions, the waiter picked up each plate of dessert and described them, while Fran gracefully pointed at each one. The way she sensuously moved her body around each plate began to attract every male eye in the restaurant. At first, every jealous bone in Maxwell’s body wanted to roar and claim this woman as his, but then he noticed that Fran was oblivious to it all. Her rapt attention was on him and it made him feel more special than any of the awards and accolades he had been given through the years.

When she was done, she stood with her hands on her hips, looking like the best dessert any man could ever want. Her gown of red silk satin wasn’t as revealing as her other outfits since it covered her from its high neckline all the way to the tips of her toes. But it hugged her figure, emphasizing her tiny waist and each curve was like a siren’s call to every man’s eyes.

"So which one would you like?" Fran asked him.

Maxwell pointed and had no idea what he picked out because he could not take his eyes off the woman in front of him. When he saw her getting ready to sit down again, he hurriedly rose and pulled out her chair for her.

While they ate, Fran asked him questions about the children and he eagerly regaled her with stories. She laughed and added stories of her own concerning Maggie, Brighton and Gracie. While she talked, Maxwell’s thoughts began to wander. That adage proved to be true.

‘Love me, love my children.’

A month after Sarah died, many women knew a good thing when they saw one. After all, there weren’t many handsome, famous millionaires available. Maxwell Sheffield also possessed many admirable traits. He was charitable, gentle, and a touch arrogant. And every well-heeled woman of the world knew that a man who was driven, needed that touch of arrogance to succeed. So droves of women came up with game plans to catch him. Some even figured out that if they played nice with his children they would have a better chance, but Maxwell saw through each and every one. He wasn’t interested in dating and so closeted himself inside his office with his business partner and butler and worked. And worked.

Until the day Fran Fine walked into his life. Oh, she was beautiful, even a blind man could attest to that. Because like that other adage, ‘Beauty is only skin deep,’ Fran’s true charm shone from the goodness of her heart. She loved life and was determined that everyone around her would as well.

"Mr. Sheffield... are you listening to me? I’ve been trying to ask you something," Fran said in a hurt tone.

Maxwell reached out and took her hands in his. "I’m sorry, Miss Fine."

"Am I boring you?"

"No, no, not at all," he rushed to assure her as he caressed her soft hands in his. "Forgive me, but I was thinking how every man here wished he were sitting at my place. And I wondered how I could be so lucky."

"Aww... you know I bet you could outcharm Cary Grant in a charm contest."

Maxwell dazzled her with his disarming smile. "Now what were you asking me that I was so rude to not hear?"

"I was wondering how you liked your chocolate truffle cake?"

He hastily looked down at his dessert and was surprised to notice that he only had a couple forkfuls left on his plate.

"It’s delightful."

"That’s good."

Maxwell chuckled at the imploring look on her face. "Would you like a taste?"

A smile quickly lit her features. "Well, if you insist."

Carefully, he balanced a bite on his fork and carried it to her mouth. He watched in absorbed fascination as she partially opened her mouth. Then the tip of her lithe tongue poked out as her lips slowly covered the tines of his fork. He heard her softly moan with carnal pleasure as she tasted the sweet treat.

"Mmm... you’re right, Mr. Sheffield, that was the best!" She licked an errant crumb from her lips and Maxwell nearly groaned.

"I think it best that we go home now," he caught the waiter’s eye.

"Okay. Thank you for a wonderful time, Mr. Sheffield. It was a great meal."

"Yes it was," Maxwell softly smiled. "Thank you for accompanying me, Miss Fine."

The next morning, Brighton looked furtively around and hid the camcorder in the kitchen before everyone woke up. "If one tape gets me an A, another one will give me extra credit. And I sure could use it!" Then stealthily he went back to his room. Within a couple of hours, the kitchen again became the heart of the home as the occupants wandered in.

"Fran, do you know where the poster paints are? I have an assignment for History class to make," Gracie asked.

"Niles and I moved a lot of stuff that you kids don’t use that much into the wine cellar."

"Okay, thanks!" Gracie ran down the stairs and opened the wooden cellar door. She flicked the solitary light bulb on and peered around. As she poked around the shelves where Niles liked to store things when she felt something brush against her elbow. She spun around, but nobody was there. Gracie rolled her eyes, "Very funny Brighton!" She expected to hear her brother laughing, but he didn’t pop up. "Whatever," and she began to look for the paints again. Just as she found them, something touched her leg. "Brighton – cut it out!" She looked around for her brother in the dim lit room, but couldn’t spot him. "You’re being stupid!" she yelled out then she saw something flicker from the corner of her eye and she dropped the paint.

"Fran! Dad! Niles!" Gracie screamed as she ran into the kitchen. "Dad! Niles! Fraaaaan!"

"What is it? What happened?!" Niles was the first one to get to her and she ran straight into his arms. "Miss Grace, what’s wrong?"

"There’s... there’s..." she tried to explain.

Maxwell ran into the kitchen. "Gracie, I heard you calling me, did something happen?" He looked concerned as his youngest child trembled in Niles’ arms.

"What’s all the commotion? I heard you through my hair dryer." Fran became alarmed when Gracie ran into her father’s arms and held on tight. Fran hurried over and with Gracie between the both of them, embraced the trembling girl.

"Ghost!" Gracie explained.

"Ghost?" her dad looked at her in puzzlement. "But sweetheart there’s no such thing as ghosts."

"I saw one," Gracie insisted as she pointed towards the cellar. "Down there!"

"Brighton!" all three adults yelled out.

"Yeah?" the teenager ambled in a few moments later, chewing on an apple. "What’s up?"

"Young man – why are you scaring your little sister like this? Do you see how petrified she is?" His dad scowled angrily.

Brighton held his arms out, "I didn’t do anything."

"Do you really expect us to believe that?" Fran glared at him as Gracie tucked her head closer to her nanny.

"Seriously. I don’t know what you guys are talking about."

"What’s going on?" Maggie walked into the kitchen followed by CC.

"Your brother is up to his shenanigans again."

"Mr. Sheffield, no one says shenanigans anymore," Fran pointed out.

"They don’t? Should I have said tomfoolery?"

"I was thinking more in the line of pranks," Fran replied. "And it wasn’t funny, young man!"

"I swear – I didn’t do anything!" Brighton said with conviction.

"See, it was too a ghost!" Gracie looked up fearfully. "I saw it!"

"A ghost? Cool! Where?" Brighton got all excited.

"If it wasn’t you, then who was down there scaring Gracie? There are no such things as ghosts," Maxwell said with certainty.

"It wasn’t the dweeb, dad. He was watching TV with me for the last twenty minutes or so." Maggie reluctantly defended her brother. "What’s this about a ghost?"

"Down there!" Gracie grabbed her dad’s hand and dragged him to the open cellar door.

"It sure is dark in here," Fran peered over Maxwell’s shoulder.

"It’s supposed to be. The fluorescent lights weren’t good for my wine. Niles, I need a-"

"Here you go, sir."

"...flashlight. Thank you. Now let’s see what this is all about, shall we? What Gracie saw might have been the curtain blowing."

"There aren’t any curtains in here," Niles informed him as he squinted his eyes to look beyond.

"Or windows," CC remarked as she held on to the short metal banister.

"Well, then perhaps it was a rat," Maxwell hypothesized.

"A rat?!" Fran jumped on his back in fright.

Maxwell’s hands automatically went around to hold her. "Miss Fine," he gasped as her arms tightened around his neck, "you’re choking me."

"It suddenly got darker in here!" Brighton exclaimed.

"That’s because dad has the flashlight and at the moment Fran’s butt is being spotlighted," Maggie explained.

Fran jumped off before anyone got an eyeful. Quickly she pulled her short skirt down an inch.

"Yeah, that made a huuuge difference," CC retorted.

Fran scrunched her nose at CC and playfully slapped Niles on his right shoulder. "I saw that Niles. Eyes forward!"

"I was only looking for the ghost," Niles teased.

"Will you guys get serious?! There really is a ghost here," Gracie insisted, as she hid behind Fran.

"Here ghostie, ghostie, ghostie," Brighton clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, "I’ve got a ghost treat for you."

"What do ghosts eat?" Gracie whispered.

"YOU!" Brighton yelled frightfully and grabbed his little sister’s arm.

"AHHHHHHH!" Gracie screamed and would have ran back up to the kitchen, but she barreled into CC’s stomach instead.

"Ooof!" CC’s arms flailed back.

"Brighton Millhouse Sheffield – I insist that you desist from upsetting your sister anymore or I will give your trust fund to Niles," his father sternly warned him.

Niles leaned in closer to Brighton and whispered into his ear. "He doesn’t mean a word of it. Go hide behind that shelf over there and when your sister gets close, jump out."

Brighton gave him a knowing look. Then walked ahead of everyone, took a cursory look around and threw his arms up as he turned to face his family. "There’s nothing here. Gracie is making it all up for attention. First it was her imaginary friend Imogene, then polar icecaps, now it’s Casper. Hello? Is anyone listening to me? I’m making sense here."

Fran’s eyes widened and with one hand she gripped Maxwell’s arm and with the other held Gracie closer to her bosom. Unconsciously, Niles and CC stepped towards each other and Maggie’s mouth dropped. Shakily, she pointed over Brighton’s shoulder.

Brighton rolled his eyes. "Nice try, Maggie. As soon as I turn around, you guys will all laugh. Fine, I’ll play along." Brighton turned and came face to face with a floating apparition. It had dark, sunken, hollow eyes and reached out towards the young boy. Brighton gulped, "Uh, guys... guys," he turned around and saw his family scamper and tumble their way up the short flight of stairs and into the kitchen. "AHHHHH!" Brighton screamed and followed them, slamming the cellar door shut.

"Lock it!" CC shrieked.

Brighton hurriedly poked the little silver button down on the little silver door knob.

"That’s not going to stop it!" CC yelled out fearfully. "Why isn’t that a heavy steel door?! There are expensive bottles of wine in there!"

"Steel won’t stop a ghost!" Maxwell yelled back eyeing the closed door.

"What can we ward it off with?!" Niles said in alarmed tones, defensively holding up a cast iron pan.

"Wait, wait, let me think," Fran said. "Silver bullets – werewolves. Garlic – vampires. Wedding proposals – my mother," Fran ticked off with her fingers.

Maggie and Gracie looked at her with hope.

"Sorry, I’ve got nothin’."

They all ran out of the kitchen and into the living room. After a while, when nothing spooky came after them, they sat down huddled on the furniture.

"What was that thing?" Maxwell finally asked as he cradled his daughters and Fran inside his arms.

Fran shook her head, "Did we really see what we thought we saw?"

"C’mon people, it had to be a trick of light," Brighton remarked forcefully. "Niles," he continued, his chest puffed up.

"Yes, Master Brighton?"

"Hold me," the tall teen squeaked and rested his head on Niles’ shoulder.

Niles patted his back consolingly.

"Well, I know what I saw and you know what I’m going to do?" CC stood up and gathered herself.

"What?" Niles asked.

"I’m getting the hell out of here!" She ran to the closet, grabbed her purse, wrapped her scarf around her neck and took her coat out.

"You’re going to abandon us in our hour of need?" Fran asked. "Wait, what am I talking about. That doesn’t surprise me a bit."

"Maxwell, I have one bit of advice for you?"

"What’s that CC?"

"Sell the house."

"But we grew up here. This is our childhood home and I always thought that we would always live here," Maggie protested.

"I’m sure you’ll die here too," CC answered.

"Good point," Maggie looked up at her father. "Dad, let’s move."

"Now, everyone, please. We need to concentrate. There has to be someone we can call."

"Bill Murray?" Gracie offered.

"Dan Ackroyd?" Brighton suggested.

"Have I not taught you children anything?" Fran sat up and Maxwell’s arms fell to his sides. "There were four guys in that ‘Ghostbusters’ movie so just those two won’t cut it." She stood up and stretched her legs.

"So what now?" Maxwell asked.

"What, are you kidding me? Miss Babcock has the right idea. We have to move!" She ran to the closet to grab her coat. "AHHH!"

Everyone jumped.

Niles held up a vase of flowers, "Is the ghost in the closet?!"

"No, but my new shoes are up in my room. I can’t leave without them!"

"Of course you can," Maxwell answered, "they’re just shoes."

"Just shoes! Would you call ‘The Mona Lisa,’ just a painting?"

"Well, of course not, but certainly you’re not comparing that famous painting to your new shoes?"

"Listen, the reason Mona Lisa was probably smiling like that was because she had on comfortable shoes that also looked good. That’s a hard combination to find!"

Maxwell began to rub his temple. "Would you like to go get them then so we can leave?"

"I’m not going up there by myself. That ghost might have friends."

"Well, none of us can go anywhere without packing an overnight bag. So Niles why don’t you pop up there and we’ll wait for you at the Ritz?"

Niles arched his eyebrow. "New plan. Why don’t you send Miss Babcock up there? With her complexion, they’ll mistake her for one of them."

CC took the vase from his hands and poured the flowers, water and all, over his head.

Niles blew the water running over his mouth at her and CC laughed at how ridiculously wet he was. Unperturbed, Niles took the scarf from around her neck and wiped himself with it and then used it to dab under his armpits. Then nonchalantly wrapped it back around her neck.

"We have a serious dilemma here. Are you two through?" Maxwell asked in exasperation.

Niles and CC looked at each other, turned to Max at the same time and nodded.

"Right then," he stood up. "We shall just purchase new clothes once we get our rooms at the hotel."

"But daddy, I don’t want to sleep all by myself," Grace’s eyes pleaded.

"But sweetheart. The hotel will be fine. There are no ghosts there."

"That’s what you said about home, too," his little girl crossed her arms stubbornly.

CC rolled her eyes and sighed. "I can’t believe I’m saying this, but, let’s go. My place. Now."

"CC?" Maxwell looked at her in puzzlement.

"Maxwell, obviously you’ve forgotten about The Political Rallies that the Ritz are hosting. I doubt you can get any rooms close to one another."

"CC, you’re always thinking," he smiled affectionately at his business partner.

"We can’t all fit at your place, I know, I’ve been there," Fran protested. "How about Ma’s?"

"I don’t think my bladder can take it, Fran," Brighton said, "your parents only have one bathroom and your dad is always parked in there."

"I’ve managed to expand my living quarters since you were there last Nanny Fine. But if you would rather stay with your parents, be my guest, one less domestic for me to be around."

"Nah. Tonight is bingo night at my parents. I’d rather not be around."

"But that sounds like fun, Fran," Gracie smiled.

"Not the way my parents play. They’re too cheap to buy the boards so they randomly write numbers on their stomachs."

‘Their stomachs?"

"Yep and then my dad closes his eyes and pushes the arrow button on the remote. Whatever channel it lands on, that’s the number."

"What do they use to mark the numbers with?"

"Oh, Cheetos, Fritos, Doritos – whatever is handy. They never finish a game. They always end up eating the marks," Fran explained. "Looks like you’ve got yourself a deal, Miss Babcock."

Maxwell clapped his hands together. "Splendid! Alright children, let’s go gather a few of our things upstairs."

The children reluctantly followed their father.

CC crossed the room and poured herself a tumbler of straight vodka.

"Psst Niles!" Fran curled her finger towards her friend.

"What?"

"Come here," she whispered.

Niles walked over. "What is it, Miss Fine?" he quietly asked.

"Miss Babcock invited you to her place!" Fran softly gushed.

"It’s hardly a romantic gesture, Miss Fine. She invited everyone."

"But she didn’t have to invite you," Fran pointed out.

Just as Niles was about to reply, CC walked over.

"What is this, a meeting of the mindless?" She laughed while she looked down at her drink, swirling the liquor inside. When she didn’t get the expected response, she looked up puzzled.

Niles was staring at her like he couldn’t take his eyes off of her.

"Niles...? What are you staring at?"

He shook his head, not answering.

‘Wait,’ CC realized, ‘he’s not looking at me, he’s looking beyond me.’ She began to swivel her head around.

"Don’t move!" he whispered harshly. His eyes widened and with an audible gulp explained. "It’s horrible!"

CC’s eyes enlarged. "Oh my god, is it the ghost?!"

Niles looked terrified. "It’s... it’s bloodcurdling," he rasped, backing away.

Slowly CC turned around, her glass white-knuckled in her hands. Her heart raced. She was almost too terrified to look, but when she turned to confront what was behind her all she saw was her reflection from the gold-framed mirror. "It’s just me."

She turned back to Niles who stood there giving her the biggest grin then hastily left to go upstairs before he was drenched in vodka.

Fran watched CC glare at Niles until he was out of sight.

"You know, Miss Babcock, I’ve got some advice about Niles I can give you. Are you interested?"

"That depends," CC drained her glass, "does it come with a bat?"

Fran laughed. "You two are so cute!"

CC looked at her perplexed. "What are you talking about?"

"This whole thing you’ve got going with Niles."

"I have nothing going on with Niles except shared loathing."

"Face up to your feelings, Miss Babcock, or one of these days you’ll find him sharing something else with someone else."

CC watched the nanny go up the stairs and brooded upon her words. Then she looked around and hustled up the steps, sometimes two at a time.

"Don’t leave me downstairs alone!"

Fran dropped her purse onto the floor and looked around in amazement.

"The whole floor? You own the entire floor?!"

CC dropped her house keys on top of a marble topped table by the door. "Yep – all mine. First that old lady died, and then Mr. and Mrs. Foxwell divorced over a silly misunderstanding that I might have had something to do with and finally I had that strange man who ate walnuts all the time committed.

Brighton and Niles lunged inside, both loaded up with suitcases and duffel bags, wheezing from exertion.

Fran’s face lit up, "My slippers are here! Now I won’t have any trouble matching my robes."

"We do appreciate your willingness to take us all in, CC," Maxwell smiled at her, then his face grew concerned. "In light of the circumstances, I do hope we won’t have to be here long."

"What are we going to do, dad?" Gracie asked as she sat down on the white leather couch.

"I’ll have Niles make phone calls to find out if the previous owners had similar problems and CC volunteered to see if any historical data can be found concerning our home in her computer. Don’t worry sweetheart, daddy is on top of things." Maxwell tiredly took off his jacket and sat down next to his daughter. "I’m famished. Niles, what’s for dinner?"

The blond butler glowered at him from beneath his eyebrows. He had just finished piling all of Fran’s bags into her room. He was exhausted and collapsed on a matching white leather chair.

He mumbled under his breath, "Considering who we’re staying with, I dare say this building must be made from gingerbread. You could go outside and gnaw on it."

"Excuse me?" Maxwell wasn’t sure if he heard right.

Niles’ straightened up. "I said I could go outside and we can Fung Chao it sir. Chinese take-out. I’m sure they’ll have the snow peas that you’re mad about."

"That will do just fine, Niles."

The children scattered to the rooms assigned to them, with Gracie and Maggie sharing a room together.

CC rushed off to her room and blissfully fell atop her luxurious bedspread. She sighed. "I’m getting soft as I age. What was I thinking inviting all of them to my home?" CC stretched her limbs as she tried to get more comfortable. Her hand came upon her purse and irritably she began to push it off when she felt something foreign inside it. "That damn butler better not have stuck another knife in my purse or I’ll use it on him tonight!"

Curiously she peered in and saw a video tape nestled inside. No label. "What the hell is this?" CC reached for the remote and the painting on her wall slid to the side, revealing a TV screen. Then she popped the tape into her VCR and watched.

"This is inside Maxwell’s kitchen..." She continued to watch and winced as she listened to herself relay her childhood to Maxwell. "If that butler thinks he can coerce me into giving him money because of this, he’s got a black eye coming," CC mumbled angrily to herself. Just as she was about to get the tape so she can throw it at Niles, she listened to him talking to Fran about how hard his childhood was. CC sat back down. She never gave a thought to how her servants’ lives must have been like nor to their childrens’. She never gave them a thought period. And yet, she found herself picturing Niles trying to fit in and she understood. Money or not, being a child and trying to make friends is a universal problem that could be quite debilitating to one’s esteem. She continued to watch.

Her heart thumped as Niles grinned at Maxwell’s offer for a night off. Quickly she paused the scene. Softly and carefully her fingers traced his face, touched his cheek and she stared at his brilliant blue eyes and his crookedly disarming smile.

‘Are my feelings for him that transparent? Nanny Fine noticed. Perhaps Niles did too. Was it he who hid the tape in my purse?’

CC watched him pick up his guitar and strum. Soon the melody became familiar and instantly she was entranced by his voice. She was ready to curse at the broken guitar string when Niles’ next words stopped her cold. The remote fell noiselessly upon the plush carpet. Then the scene stopped and the screen blanked out. Robotically she walked over to eject the tape when Maxwell’s son popped on.

He looked straight at the camera. "Hi Miss Babcock... or CC. I never know what to call you, but at least I remember your name! This thing started off as a school project until I heard what Niles said about you. I didn’t know what to do at first, but Fran always told us kids that happiness is something that needs to be coddled and appreciated. Niles loves you and I want Niles to be happy. I thought it over and I think you love him too. Remember, I’m a teenage boy, I can recognize raging hormones a mile away. I’ve only had crushes on girls and most of the time I’ve been too scared to tell any of them how I felt. So who knows, I might have missed out on something really special. Niles doesn’t have a crush on you. You’re lucky. You heard him say his feelings for you straight from his heart. The ball is in your court now. Just don’t hurt him. "

With the tip of his pinky in his mouth and in his best Austin Power’s Dr. Evil impression, Brighton’s face came closer to the screen. "That will make me angry, and when Dr. Evil gets angry Mr. Bigglesworth gets upset. And when Mr. Bigglesworth gets upset, people DIE!!" And he slammed his fist down for emphasis. Then the screen went blank.

The next day, Maxwell and Fran walked back inside the mansion. No one wanted to join them in this undertaking.

"Are you sure this is a good idea, Mr. Sheffield?" Fran held tightly to his arm.

"The paranormal detective is to meet us here. Everything will be fine. We’ll get to the bottom of this, Miss Fine," he assured her.

"AHHHH!"

Maxwell jumped. "Miss Fine, my hair is graying as I speak! Whatever is the manner?"

Fran pointed towards the hallway where Maxwell’s office was at. There floating and looking at them quite forlornly was a pretty brunette dressed in a gown of lilac and silver brocade. She looked young. Eighteen years old or so. The low square neck and hem were edged with ermine, the short puffed sleeves looked like it was lilac chiffon. She greeted Fran and Max with sad, green eyes then she turned away towards the kitchen, her hands clasped to her stomach.

Fran followed her.

Maxwell lunged for his nanny, but missed. "Miss Fine! Where are you going?!"

Fran kept walking, so entranced was she with the sad apparition, that she didn’t hear Maxwell call after her.

Hurriedly he followed and with Fran watched the spirit float through the closed cellar door.

Fran reached over to turn the knob.

"Miss Fine, do you know what you are doing?"

"She needs our help."

"How do you know that? It could be a trap."

"It’s a woman thing. I can sense her need. Something is wrong and she needs us to help."

Fran turned on the dim bulb and Maxwell turned on the strong flashlight that he brought to the house. There was the young woman, she gave them a sad smile, and stepped behind one of the wooden shelves that aligned the wall for miscellaneous house things.

Maxwell cautiously looked around while Fran rushed on ahead to follow the spirit, but she was gone.

"Help me, Mr. Sheffield."

Maxwell watched Fran struggle with the shelf and helped her pull the bookcase away from the wall. There was nothing there. Fran reached out towards the cement wall and it felt cool to the touch.

"I don’t understand."

"I do." Maxwell looked around, clearly spooked. "She lured us here and now we’re ghost food."

"Now you sound like Brighton." Fran carefully looked down and got on her hands and knees. "Mr. Sheffield, can you shine the light over here."

Maxwell pointed the bright yellow flashlight to the spot Fran indicated. "It’s an old oriental rug that we use to have in the living room," he shrugged.

Fran pulled it back and felt underneath with her hand. "There’s something here. Help me move the shelf over more so that we can move the rug out of the way."

After a few strenuous pulls and lots of dust, Fran and Maxwell uncovered a trapdoor.

"Now where on earth did that come from?"

"You don’t remember it being here?" Fran asked as she stared down at the old board.

"I never really looked. I concentrated more in the area where my wines are. I’m surprised that it missed Niles’ eye for detail though."

Fran reached for the iron ring that served as the handle, but it wouldn’t move.

"Here, let me do that." Maxwell strained, but the door wouldn’t budge. He peered at the wood, "It’s nailed shut." He looked around and gestured with his hand, "There’s a tool box over there, Miss Fine. It should have something there that I could use to pry this open."

Fran took the flashlight and searched. She came back with an axe. "I found this. Will this work?"

"Yes, that will do just fine." Maxwell rolled his sleeves up. "Stand back." He raised the axe over his head and chopped at the old, but tough wood.

Fran couldn’t help, but admire his physique as he raised the axe over his head time and time again. ‘Is it weird that I’m getting turned on by this?’ She watched the muscles in his arms tighten and bulge. ‘Nah, who wouldn’t?!’

The wood splintered and the gap became wider and wider until finally they uncovered an opening that could fit an able bodied child... or a woman with a trim figure.

With the flashlight shining down, Fran and Maxwell put their heads together as they peered inside.

"Do you see anything?" Maxwell asked.

Fran shook her head.

"I wonder what’s down there," he took the flashlight from her hand and shined it in more.

"Only one way to find out," Fran took the flashlight, got down on her hands and knees and then sat down near the hole, swinging her legs inside.

"No, Miss Fine, I forbid it. You’ll get hurt.

"There are steps. I’ll just follow them down. It looks like only seven steps. That’s a lucky number!"

"Miss Fine... Fran... please," He went down on one knee. "Something might happen to you. I don’t trust this at all and I-I don’t want to lose you." Maxwell pleaded with her.

Fran reached out and caressed the side of his face. Her eyes shone with love for this man who looked at her with such fretful concern. "I’ll be okay."

Maxwell touched her cheek and looked deeply into her eyes, "Be careful."

She smiled, "I will and-"

Maxwell lowered his lips to hers, taking her by surprise.

Though not so much that she pulled away. No she stayed where she was. She arched her neck to help further the cause. And she left her eyes open. Open to see the beauty of this man, inside and out. But she didn’t keep them open long. As the kiss deepened, her lids drifted down.

His lips were just soft enough, just firm enough, and parted just far enough. He knew the perfect pressure to be masterful, but not intimidating. To take command and lead and yet not to overpower. And when he kissed her, it was as if he was so totally involved that every part of him enveloped her in a delicious, intoxicating sensation that Fran could have indulged in for hours and hours...

Except that the flashlight fell from her hands and clattered below.

"I better go," Fran said softly.

Maxwell nodded, a knot of fear for her prevented him from speaking and he watched her descend into the hole.

Fran picked the flashlight up and the light caused eerie shadows in the small space.

"What do you see?" Maxwell called down.

"It looks like a small room. There’s a tiny cot down here and an old table and chair," she coughed as the dust got to her. "Here’s something interesting."

"What is it?"

"It’s a book and still in good shape. There’s writing in it. I don’t see anything else in here. I’m coming back up - I don’t like it down here."

Maxwell reached down with his right hand and helped pull her up. "Careful. Those steps might be rotten."

Fran smiled up at him and then her eyes widened. "Look!"

Maxwell turned and he saw the pretty young lady behind himself and Fran. She smiled at them and they smiled back. Then something else appeared and Maxwell and Fran looked on in horror at the same ghost that had scared the entire family the day before. But the young lady shook her head at their concern and smiled up at the other apparition. In a blink of an eye, the horrendous countenance became a young handsome man who looked down at the young lady adoringly. They embraced and Maxwell and Fran watched entranced as they shared a beautiful, soul-stirring kiss. When the kiss ended, the two ghosts sent Maxwell and Fran a most grateful smile and then hand in hand they slowly disappeared from sight.

"Wow!" Fran said.

"I’ll say," Maxwell replied. "Come on, let’s go back to CC’s and get cleaned up. I believe our home is ghost free now. We can all sleep in our own beds tonight."

On their way out they ran into the paranormal detective. Maxwell explained what happened and the detective gave him the information that he dug up on their house.

"How horrible!" Maggie raged as Gracie finished reading the diary of the young woman that Max and Fran had met at their house.

Fran dabbed at her eyes with a tissue. Niles noticed that CC was touched and handed his handkerchief to her. She nodded her thanks and wiped the tears that rolled down her face.

"That’s the saddest thing I’ve ever read," Gracie said as she sat back into the couch.

Maxwell shook his head, rage and sadness filled him.

"So let me get this straight," Brighton took the diary from his little sister. This girl, Audrey, fell in love with the stable hand a hundred years ago. Her home was where our mansion was built?"

"Apparently so," Niles’ eyes shone with tears at the young couple’s plight. "Her father found out and kept her down there for punishment."

"They hung him," Maxwell remarked in a hush tone. "He was only a year or two older than Brighton and they hung him. What was the chap’s name again?"

"Yance Calhoun," Fran answered. "Her father found out about their indiscretion and had him killed. In the diary, Audrey wrote how they had planned to run away together and get married, but a jealous maid informed Audrey’s father and they were caught."

"How could anyone imprison their own daughter?" Maggie asked, her eyes were red and swollen.

"He meant to only keep Audrey there for a week," Gracie said.

CC blew her nose, "Yes, but once he found out she was pregnant, he threw her back in there and let her rot."

"Why do you think they suddenly appeared to us after all these years?" Brighton asked.

"Look at the date on the diary," Fran answered. "Today was their anniversary. One hundred years to the day they were suppose to have gotten married. My guess is that their spirits were kept apart and they needed help to become as one again."

"That just reinforces what you’ve always told us Fran," Brighton said as he set the diary carefully down on their coffee table.

"What’s that B?"

"How happiness is something that needs to be coddled and appreciated. Because you never know what will happen. Things could turn on a dime like it did to Audrey and Yance. Sometimes I find myself backing down from a situation because I’m scared and then I end up wondering, ‘What if?’" Brighton stretched his legs out and leaned his shoes on the edge of the table. "Which really sucks when you think about it. I don’t want to be like that anymore."

"That’s a commendable attitude, son," Maxwell patted his son’s shoulder as he walked pass the couch. "And I want to appreciate some happiness as of right now."

Fran blew her nose and noticed Maxwell’s shoes in front of her. She looked up in question. "Mr. Sheffield?"

"Fran, I was never as terrified in my life as I was today watching you disappear from my sight as you stepped down into that hole."

"Fran?" Fran shook her head as if to clear it. ‘Did he just say my name out loud in front of witnesses?’

"Indeed I did," Maxwell grinned.

"Did I just say that out loud?"

Maxwell laughed, "Indeed you did."

Maxwell took the tissue box from her lap and placed it on the table. He turned his full attention to the beautiful brunette who looked at him in puzzlement.

Fran gasped as his eyes locked so firmly onto hers that she felt as if they were drawing her to him, but in reality, it was his hands that were pulling her up and closer to his body.

When she got where he wanted her, he leaned over. But he didn’t kiss her like she thought he was going to. He rubbed the tip of his nose against the tip of hers. Slowly, back and forth, as if testing to see if she was going to balk.

She didn’t though. How could she when she was hoping like mad that kissing was what he had in mind after all? When she was craving it so badly she could have cried?

He raised one index finger to her cheekbone, to the tear that had magnetized to her cheek. He wiped it away, slid his hand behind her head, tipped it back with only a hint of pressure to guide her, and finally... finally... covered her mouth with his.

Fran’s eyes drifted shut, she let her head fall even farther back into the cradle of his hand and unlike earlier, she didn’t just accept the kiss, didn’t just let him work the wonders. No, this time she gave as good as she got. She met him, matched him. She parted her lips in answer to his and when his tongue came courting, she met and matched that too.

Then Niles coughed... hard and long.

Maxwell and Fran looked around. They had forgotten where they were. The children were shading their eyes, although they sent smiles to each other.

Maxwell pulled his handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped his mouth free of lipstick. "Please forgive our transgression, but I couldn’t help but show Fran how much I love her."

Fran’s head popped up. "You love me?"

His eyes crinkled with laughter at the way her eyes boggled wide as saucers. "Oh yes." He took her in his arms and embraced her long and hard. "Unquestionably." He then kissed her lips, "Indisputably," kiss, "undeniably," kiss, "irrefutably," kiss, "in love with you, my Fran." Kiss.

Fran’s lips curved upward after the last kiss. "Mmm... I think I’m going to have to invest in a thesaurus. That way you’ll have to kiss me every time you use such big words."

Maxwell chuckled and kissed her again, "Make it a thick book!"

"Okay, my threshold for all this affection has hit its limit," Maggie protested.

"Yeah, dad, ease off. It was alright at first, but geez, get a room!" Brighton scowled.

"What they said," Gracie concurred, eyes still covered with one hand and pointing to her siblings with another.

Maxwell took Fran’s hand and they left the room.

"You don’t think..." Maggie’s eyes got bigger.

"Eww!" Brighton made a face.

"We’re in the kitchen getting ice cream," Fran’s big voice carried though to them. "Come join us!"

The kids quickly scrambled up and out of the living room, leaving Niles and CC standing there together in the uncomfortable silence. Each in their own thoughts and perplexed decisions.

Niles took a deep breath and thought, ‘If Mr. Sheffield could finally capture the pluck to declare his feelings for Miss Fine then I can as well!’

"Miss Babcock... I-I..." he stumbled over his next words, "w-would... w-would..."

CC interrupted him. "Niles tell Maxwell that I decided to go home." And quickly she turned and walked out of the mansion.

Niles stood there in the empty room by himself. He wasn’t sure which sound made him feel lonelier. The sound of the children’s laughter intermixed with Maxwell and Fran’s in the next room or the echoing slam of the front door as CC left.

The next morning, Niles opened the heavy navy blue curtains in his room, allowing the sunshine to penetrate the darkness. He threw open the window and the sounds of a city just waking up entered his ears. The unmistakable sounds of birds singing and delivery trucks motoring down the streets below. He enjoyed the crisp air, but soon closed the window when the biting wind became too much.

"Another beautiful day. Another lonely Valentine’s Day," Niles sighed as he walked to his bathroom to clean up.

An hour later, dressed and groomed, Niles opened his bedroom door to the hallway and smelled the unmistakable aroma of bacon frying. His eyebrows knitted in surprised puzzlement.

He followed the smell straight to his employer who was at that moment, buttering toast.

"I’m sorry, I believed I walked into another dimension. Could you tell me where I can find the real Maxwell Sheffield?" Niles asked.

"Ah Niles – good morning, old boy! Would you like some eggs or perhaps pancakes? I’ve made enough for everyone."

"Who are you and what have you done with my employer?"

It shouldn’t have been possible, but it was. Maxwell’s grin grew even wider. "I woke up like it was the first day of the rest of my life! I wanted to surprise Fran with breakfast in bed. It was pure torture walking her to her room last night and leaving and yet the anticipation of when I will not have to leave her is a glorious feeling as well!"

Niles watched him place the plate of food, silverware, a napkin, a glass of orange juice and of course a vase with roses upon a tray.

"You do realize it’s supposed to be a single bud in a modest vase?" Niles teased.

Maxwell smiled, "My Fran deserves to be spoiled. So I cut the roses growing in the greenhouse. I didn’t think you would mind."

Niles’ jaw dropped. "My prize winning roses?! I was going to enter them in the upcoming contest. They were a shoe-in for first prize!"

His shock and annoyance quickly dissipated when he saw his old friend visibly sadden.

"I’m sorry, old boy, I didn’t mean-"

Niles shook his head. "Oh, sir, I’m being silly. I would rather you surprise Miss Fine with them then have them examined by a bunch of old cows who take gardening much too seriously. Please – enjoy!"

Maxwell clapped Niles on the back and then carefully took the laden tray upstairs.

Niles looked around his kitchen. Dirty pans, dirty bowls, grease splatters, and a forgotten cracked egg shell sat on the counter. The butler shook his head and smiled, "Viva la romance." He grabbed a sponge and began to wipe.

A couple hours later Max and Fran walked down the backstairs, hand in hand and joined the family gathered in the kitchen. The new couple coo’d and rubbed noses. Then Fran took a freshly toasted bagel and spread cream cheese on it. Maxwell took the butter knife away, ran her finger around the bagel and lifted the fingerful of cream cheese to his mouth as Fran watched him lick it off. His eyes sparkled with desire, enjoying the chase.

"Oh gross!" Maggie shuddered.

"Even extra credit isn’t worth this!" Brighton rushed to the china cabinet and pulled out his camcorder.

With one hand on her hip, Fran watched appalled as Brighton popped a tape out of the camera.

"Brighton Sheffield – were you secretly recording us?!"

The teenager quickly hid the tape behind his back. "Uhh... no."

"Brighton!" Maxwell looked at his son sternly.

‘Oh, oh,’ Brighton knew that voice. "I was just doing my assignment. You always told me not to shirk my responsibilities."

The doorbell rang at that moment and Niles left to answer it.

Fran held her hand out and Brighton put the tape on it.

"If you take that away from me, I won’t have anything to turn in. I gave CC my first one."

"What do you mean?"

As Brighton explained, Niles was opening the front door and nearly had a heart attack.

There stood CC, her blond golden locks flowing down to her shoulders in waves. The sunlight behind her shone through the pale yellow sheath she wore, obscenely spotlighting her legs.

CC smiled seductively and gently closed his mouth shut as she walked into the foyer.

Niles nudged the door shut with his foot, not willing to take his eyes away from the stunning vision that stood before him.

‘My god, she’s beautiful!’ The phrase spoke over and over in his mind as he stood there struck dumb.

The way Niles looked at her caused the butterflies in CC’s stomach to suddenly magnify and grow into circling winged dinosaurs. But still he just stood there, mesmerized.

"Niles? Say something!"

"My god, she’s beautiful!" Niles practically shouted. He blushed crimson. "I mean... you-you... look," he was mesmerized. "Amazing," he finally untied his tongue.

The smile that appeared on CC’s face was dazzling. "I have something for you." Her hand trembled as she pulled out something red from her purse and handed it to Niles.

It was a card. An old-fashion, handmade card with lace and carefully drawn hearts on the front. And on the inside were two simple and yet not so simple words.

‘Be Mine?’

Niles closed his eyes. ‘That’s it old man, you’re finally seeing things.’ Slowly he opened them again and the question was still written there in CC’s writing. He knew her handwriting very well as well as he knew this woman who stood before him, nervously waiting for his reaction.

"Be Mine?" he read aloud and smiled at her, but he didn’t say anything more.

"Well?" CC was beginning to lose her patience.

Niles stepped towards her. "Only if you’ll be mine."

His penetrating blue eyes were on her face in a strong, intense way. Then on her lips. And CC’s first thought was that she could say yes with a kiss. That maybe he was thinking she could say yes with a kiss. But all she managed to do was nod.

"You’re not teasing me, are you?"

‘Me tease him, who was he kidding!’ CC thought as she looked at him.

The room was warm as the morning fire crackled in the fireplace, taking the bite from the outside frosty February air that flowed in with CC as she stepped through the door earlier.

Instead of his customary white dress shirt and tie, Niles wore a turquoise blue turtleneck sweater that matched his eyes to perfection. And those eyes exuded more heat than the flames. He was pure temptation right there within easy reach and she was itching to touch him, to have his arms around her, to have him kissing her...

"You never answered my question."

"You never answered mine," Niles countered back.

"I asked first, Niles."

He smiled a slow, pleased smile, "I asked second."

"Do I have to dump another vase of flowers on your head?" She asked getting annoyed with his games.

Suddenly Niles became serious. "Just know that I’m not fooling around here, CC."

Her only answer was a raising of her eyebrow at his use of her first name for the first time.

His warning was for real. "I’m serious about you."

Hearing that made her heart take a leap and shook her up a little, too. She remembered how he claimed his feelings for her on video and now right in front of her. The two events began to blend onto each other.

"Is it live or is it Memorex?" she muttered under her breath.

"What?"

CC shook her head and smiled at him. "I’m not fooling around here, either," she said very quietly, realizing in that moment just how true it was.

Niles smiled again, kindly, compassionately, but still with a sexy sparkle to his eyes. And then he reached for her with only one hand, clasping it behind her neck to pull her in for a kiss that was chaste and yet sweet with promise.

CC kissed him in return, letting her lips part just as his were parted, meeting his tongue when it came to play, playing along, maybe even playing a little more aggressively as something inside her urged her on.

CC put her arms around him, flattening her palms firmly to his back, feeling the softness of his shirt, and wishing that the shirt would disappear so she could feel his skin. Their kisses were wide-open by then, and tongues did more than play. They danced with intent, a dance that chased and caught and chased again.

Her thoughts rushed ahead, and she regretted what she’d worn. Regretted that she hadn’t dressed in a blouse that would come loose, but instead here she was in a dress. With a zipper! If only he’d pull down the zipper!

But Niles’ hand was along her jaw line, cupping her face, caressing it with slow strokes that paid no attention to the other places she wanted it. To the fact that she wanted to feel his hands on her naked skin so much that just thinking about it arched her spine, bringing her closer to him.

Niles still didn’t lower the zipper, but he did slide his arms around her, pulling her closer against him as he kneaded her back with his warm, strong hands.

The trouble was, that’s all he did. He held her. He kissed her. He massaged her back. It was as if he was savoring every moment, which was nice, but he wouldn’t be hurried through it. And so CC relented to his pace because what else could she do?

She gave in to kisses that were really so incredible, she would never take them for granted. She gave in to the soft pleasure of merely being held by him. To the sensual feel of his body pressed to hers. She gave in to the slow arousal of his hands on her back, on her sides, on her waist – even if it was on the outside of the hated sheath dress.

And little by little, as sparks of delight began to glitter where before there had been just a sense of urgency, she also gave in to feeling safe, secure, and cherished by this man. And she began to relax in a way she hadn’t before. To realize that some of that urgency that had been driving her was tension rather than desire. Tension that Niles was finessing out of her subtly. Subtly, slowly, carefully, successfully.

And when she was completely at ease, when there wasn’t a trace of stress left in her, when she was blissfully pliable there within the circle of his arms, only then did Niles reach for her zipper.

"Oh my god, I’m going to need years and years of therapy," Maggie said as she watched Niles and CC going at it.

The embraced couple stopped and looked over at the children, Fran and Maxwell as they stood by the piano watching them.

Brighton handed his oldest sister a business card. "Here, this is Gracie’s therapist. Maybe we can get a family discount."

Fran gave them a double-thumbs up sign. Niles winked back in answer and CC tried to calculate in her head how long it would take to get Niles to her penthouse.

While upstairs, the maids clapped with approval and John tipped his chauffeur’s hat at them.

Gracie craned her neck up to look at them. "I didn’t know we had maids."

Her brother shrugged his shoulders. "Beats me. I thought Niles did all the driving too until I actually looked over at the driver’s seat when Maggie was practicing her speech on us and it wasn’t him driving."

Maggie looked at her watch and practically jumped up. "I have to get ready for my Valentine dates!"

"Dates, young lady?" Maxwell asked.

"Just coddling happiness, dad," Maggie said as she ran up the stairs.

"Just make sure that’s all that’s being coddled!" Maxwell yelled up at her.

"I’m going to the mall," Brighton said over his shoulder as he ran to the closet for his baseball jacket. "My friends and I have it all planned. We heard the girls who worked over at ‘Potatoes Potatoes Potatoes’ will date anyone!"

"Be home by curfew!" Fran yelled after him before he closed the door. "Gracie, sweetie, would you like to go to the movies with your father and I?"

"Please Fran, I have a social life too." Gracie walked carefully away, crossing her legs and placing each foot in front of the other.

Maxwell looked on in concern. "What did she mean by that?"

"Her best friend Tricia is having an ice cream and jellybean party."

"Oh," Maxwell sighed with relief. Then his eyes sparkled with love and devotion at the gorgeous woman who stood so close that he did what his heart desired and pulled her in for a kiss. "So my love," kiss, "my darling," long kiss, "my beloved, what shall we do now?" Deep kiss.

Fran growled in desire. "I never knew that words could be such a turn-on!" As she nuzzled his neck, he shivered as he suggested an activity.

"Would you like to get something to eat?"

She stopped and thought it over. "I can go for something sweet."

"You’re sweet," Maxwell replied, nuzzling her neck this time and nibbling.

Fran grinned and regretfully pulled away. "We made a pact."

Maxwell blew out a sound of frustration. "That pact is going to kill me. So when shall we set the date?"

"How about on St. Paddy’s day? Green gowns for my bridesmaids and you can wear a four-leaf clover and nothing else."

Maxwell laughed. "Only if you want to give my mother a stroke." He bent down and nibbled on her lips. As he continued to kiss her, he opened his eyes only to find Fran looking all around. He pulled away and looked around. "Not another ghost?"

"No. Did you notice when Niles and CC left?"

Outside, Maxwell’s stretch limo pulled away from the curb. The Jamaican driver turned to Niles. "Where we going now, mon?"

Niles gave CC’s home address and then took CC back into his arms. Continuing what they had started in the mansion.

"Niles," CC managed to say between kisses.

"Hmm?"

"I thought you did all the driving?"

"Of course not. I can’t very well do all the shopping, cooking, driving and cleaning. That’s why Mr. Sheffield employs a crew of four maids."

"Maxwell has maids?!"

The Nanny is a copyright of Sony Pictures, Tri-Star Television, High School Sweethearts, and Sternin and Fraser's Ink, Inc. No infringement of rights is meant or implied.

I thought it would be fun to dispel those rumors about Niles being the only driver and ‘maid’! :o) Thanks for taking the time to read my story! Oh, and I’d like to give a shout out to my ol’ bud, Aimee – thanks for being my beta reader!

Don't Know Much Lyrics

By: Aaron Neville
(Barry Mann/Cynthia Weil/Tom Snow)

Look at this face
I know the years are showin’
Look at this life
I still don’t know where it’s goin’

I don't know much
But I know I love you
And that may be
All I need to know

Look at these eyes
They never seen what mattered
Look at these dreams
So beaten and so battered,

I don't know much
But I know I love you
And that may be
All I need to know

So many questions
Still left unanswered
So much
I’ve never broken through

And when I feel you near me
Sometimes I see so clearly
The only truth I’ve ever known
Is me and you

Look at this man
So blessed with inspiration
Look at this soul
Still searching for salvation

I don't know much
But I know I love you
And that may be
All I need to know

I don't know much
But I know I love you
That may be
All I need to know

I don't know much
But I know I love you
That may be
All there is to know, whoa…oh…oh…oh…ah…

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