The Gambit

by

Aimee
(aimeed@earthlink.net)

Max's mouth was warm and soft, teasing at hers, and Fran Fine tilted her head to the side, wrapping her arms around his neck. Each time he kissed her, she was lost in the wonder of kissing someone she truly loved, and who truly loved her, for the first time in her life. She'd thought that she was in love before, a thousand silly infatuations, but this was it, the man who was her light, her life, her soul. And not only was she kissing him, she was awake at the time, too!

Max pulled away and turned his back to her. "I'm sorry, Miss Fine, I shouldn't have done that. I got carried away."

"Hey, hon, if you want to see carried away," she said seductively, running red-lacquered nails up and down his back, "then come here and carry me."

He held her at arm's length. "No, Miss Fine. This is too much, too fast. I can't."

Fran shoved him away angrily. "What is it this time? You're scared of commitment? Think of the children? You didn't bring protection? What? You've been playing with my heart for five years now, Maxwell Sheffield, and I'm sick of it. You kiss me and then shove me away! You tell me I'm sexy and then refuse to do anything about it. I try to get over you and see other people, but you get jealous and find some way to break me up."

"I don't bloody need to break you up, all your relationships are dysfunctional anyway!" he shouted in frustration, tunneling his fingers through his hair.

Fran stomped her foot, curls bouncing. "Well then maybe I ought to get out of them! Including you!" She turned around and stomped out just as C.C. strode in.

"What's the matter with her, did Loehmann's go out of business?" C.C. inquired snidely.

Max grimaced and didn't answer.

"Oh no. Oh Maxwell. Not again. You and Nanny Fine made out, didn't you? And then you argued, because you always argue after you make out. Now she's stomped out and you're going to spend the rest of the day moping around doing nothing while I do all your work. Honestly, what is it with you and this love-hate relationship?"

Just then, Niles hurried in. Max looked at Niles, then at C.C., and wisely kept his response to himself. "Sir!" Niles said breathlessly. "What have you done to Miss Fine now? She's -- "

"Save it, Niles," ordered Max. "I don't want to hear about it. I have work to do."

"That's right," C.C. agreed. "He's a very busy man, he doesn't have time to care about his nanny's feelings." She saw the looks they gave her. "Well, what I mean is, he'll pencil her in. Soon! But now he has to work."

Niles rolled his eyes and left. Stupid lucky rich brat Mr. bloody great emotionally crippled producer Sheffield would find out soon enough.

"Niles!!!" The roar echoed through the house several hours later. "Where's Miss Fine?"

"At her mother's, I believe." Niles looked up from the dough he was rolling out as Max stormed into the kitchen.

Maxwell's face was tight and angry. "Gracie missed both her therapy appointment and her ballet lesson today because Miss Fine wasn't around to take her. Just because she's in a snit doesn't give her the right to neglect her duties! Why is she at her mother's?"

"Because she lives there, sir. As she will be doing until she locates another position which will enable her to live on her own."

"Another position?" Max was dumbfounded.

"Yes, sir. I took the liberty of writing her a reference in your name. Here is her resignation, written in black eyebrow pencil."

Maxwell looked up in disdain. "She'll come back. She wouldn't leave us."

"On the contrary, sir. I'm just surprised she didn't leave you long ago. I would have, in her position." Niles took up a round metal cutter and began viciously stamping out biscuits.

"Thanks a whole bloody hell of a lot, Niles."

"All in a day's work, sir."

It had been three days and nothing was getting done. C.C. even went so far as to ask Niles if he had any ideas. Maxwell hadn't done anything but mope in days.

"Don't worry," Niles told her. "I have some news that will spur him into action."

"Good! Now if only we could get you to do some work."

"If only we could get you some action of any kind."

"I know. You and I have only one thing in common, Niles. Celibacy. Isn't that depressing?" C.C. sighed and leaned her head on her hand, tipping her water bottle back and drinking.

"Depressing in a major way," he agreed. "Come on, I want you to be there when I tell Mr. Sheffield."

"Tell him what?"

"That Miss Fine is dating."

C.C. hurried after him. "But then he'll go get her and she'll come back. I don't want her back!"

Niles turned to her, shaking his head reproachfully at her foolishness. "Don't be ridiculous, Babcock. He'll decide to make her jealous, grab for the nearest woman, and end up falling in love with her instead. Isn't it obvious?"

It sounded suspicious to C.C., but if it would get Maxwell working, she'd do it. And maybe that jealousy angle could get worked up a little.

Niles grinned at the thoughtful look on her face as she hurried away. "Sometimes," he sighed, "It's just too easy."

In the office, C.C. hovered eagerly as Niles broke the news. "Sir, I thought you might want to hear the latest. She is dating Teddy Imperiali, Danny's brother."

"What?" Max bellowed. And she accused him of toying with her! But she just ran out and dated anyone, she always had. Well, two could play at that game. "Well, maybe she's right. We both need to move on with her life -- I mean, our lives." Maxwell paced thoughtfully. His eyes fell upon the blonde, who was eavesdropping and contentedly feeding papers into the shredder. "C.C., what are you doing Saturday night?"

"Why?" she asked sarcastically. "Do you need me to do all your work so you can go chasing after your floozy of an ex-nanny?"

"Noooo," he said. He took her hand and lightly brushed the back of it with his lips. "I was wondering if you'd join me for dinner at La Cote Basque. Hmmm? Just the two of us? What do you say?" His eyes searched hers, an intimate little smile playing about his lips.

C.C.'s jaw dropped. She shared a shocked glance with Niles, then gasped, "Ah, sure, Max. Love to." She gave a high-pitched giggle.

"Good. Perhaps you wouldn't mind dropping by around six so we can do a little work and then go out for dinner and do something more relaxing." His tone of voice caressed the words, making it clear he meant something really relaxing. C.C. again gave Niles a questioning look. What the hell is he doing? she mouthed. Niles shook his head in bewilderment.

"Oooh! I'll bring the condoms -- ah, contracts!" C.C. babbled, eyes wide as Maxwell gave her a sly little smile, then crossed in front of her and left the room. C.C.'s hand went to her fluttering heart. She sank down on the sofa and looked helplessly up at Niles. "I don't believe it. One of your cockamamie plans finally worked."

"Yeah," he muttered. "Worked like a dream." Niles stomped out. "Bloody nightmare, that is."

That afternoon as Fran was cleaning off the plastic slipcovers, the doorbell rang. She opened it to find Niles standing there. Her old friend enfolded her in his arms, and they held each other for a brief moment. Then, she led him to the sofa and they sat down.

"So how are they?" she asked.

"Dreadful. The children aren't speaking to him. I'm less a butler and more a human intercom now. He's going around pretending to be all happy, but he snaps at the slightest thing. The only one who's happy is Babcock, because he asked her out on a date to make you jealous. Please come back to us, Miss Fine. It isn't natural. The children aren't smiling, he isn't smiling, and Babcock isn't insulting me because she's too happy. The world has gone mad."

"I'm really sorry, Niles," Fran said gently, laying a hand on his arm. "I know you kinda have a secret soft spot for Miss Babcock."

"If it were a soft spot I wouldn't have a problem," muttered Niles.

Fran chuckled. "But maybe they really were meant for each other. I mean, they're perfect together. He's a gorgeous guy. She's a beautiful woman. They're business partners. They get along great. They both have pedigrees going back to Adam and Eve. We're just not from the same world they are."

"Miss Fine, listen to yourself! Are you going to let Miss Babcock have him? What about your children? Do you think she'll be a good mother to them? Do you think she could even begin to love him the way you do, or that he loves her?"

"I'm sorry, Niles, but I'm done fighting! I had my Cinderella fantasy. Pierce Brosnan rode up in a limo and swept me away for a while. Now it's time to pay for my fun."

Niles gave up in disgust. He accepted her invitation to stay and watch Yentl only because Mr. Sheffield, who thought he'd gone to the grocery, had specifically requested that he get home as soon as possible.

Saturday night came long before Niles was ready for it. He even pow-wowed with the children, and they couldn't think of a way to stop this liaison between Babcock and Mr. Sheffield so that Mr. Sheffield could go after Miss Fine. And Babcock had been bloody radiant all week.

Only once had she expressed any doubts. "Am I being unrealistic, Niles? I mean, is it totally ridiculous to suppose that maybe someday he could fall in love with me?"

"Yes," Niles said.

"That's what I thought. Oh, well. I'll take what I can get." And Babcock had breezed out carrying Maxwell's coffee. It made him want to retch the way she ran back and forth doing whatever he asked her to do. It was like she'd lost all her personality over a man who didn't love her.

He'll never love you because he doesn't have the guts it would take to love you, Niles thought resentfully as C.C. tended to Maxwell's every wish. He can't see the rose for the thorns. Your spirit would crush him, that or he would stifle your spirit. Maybe Miss Fine isn't the only one who's not going to stay around and watch this happen.

Maybe he and Miss Fine should think about starting some kind of business together, one that had no stupid Sheffields or bloody-minded Babcocks involved.

At precisely 5:59 on Saturday night, the doorbell rang. Niles answered it, to reveal a resplendent C.C. clad head to foot in a sleek black velvet cloak that fell to the floor in graceful folds. Against her pale skin and golden hair it looked positively gothic.

Maxwell stood behind Niles, clad in a tuxedo. "C.C.! You look exquisite. You know, I don't know that I'll be able to get much work done after all. Niles, you may go."

Niles bounded up the stairs, then turned to watch as soon as he was out of sight.

He could look down on the two heads, one golden and one dark, as they bent close together. Maxwell said something to make C.C. giggle and simper. Then, he tapped his finger under her chin and tipped her face up toward his. Niles could see the confusion and surprise on her face when Max leaned in for a kiss, but C.C. allowed it.

"You look exquisite," Max whispered again, just before he tilted her chin up to his and pressed his mouth to hers.

His kiss was warm and gentle. C.C. closed her eyes and leaned into it as he hesitantly deepened the kiss. "C.C.," he murmured. "Let's be wild. I know I shouldn't ask it of you this soon, but may I take you upstairs?"

C.C. 's jaw dropped. "I usually get dinner first," she quipped.

"I'll give you something to nibble on," he murmured lustily, and kissed her again, harder. He slid his hands under her cloak to feel the body-skimming velvet gown she wore underneath. Again C.C. leaned into his embrace, wrapping her arms around his neck, but something kept niggling at her, and it wasn't the roaming fingers that started out at her waist and were creeping slowly upward. She could have sworn there was something mechanical and forced in his kiss, like he was flying on automatic pilot.

No, that's Niles -- because there are no passengers! she joked to herself as she increased the ardor of her kiss hoping for a similar reaction from him. But he didn't seem to notice. The simple fact was, he wasn't into it. C.C. knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that whatever might be happening to him physically, emotionally all his passion was feigned.

Maxwell slid an arm around her waist and began to direct her toward the staircase. Unable to watch a moment longer, Niles fled.

Unfortunately, he fled just a moment too soon to see C.C. stop at the foot of the staircase, irritably shoving Max away. "Maxwell," she said seriously. "Stop faking it."

"We're only kissing and already you're worried I'm faking?" he joked. "C.C., men can't fake."

"Actually they can," she remarked casually. "All they have to do is -- well, never mind. The point is, I don't believe you really want me. I think there's someone else on your mind right now, and I think you know exactly who I'm talking about."

"Miss Fine?" he asked. "I'm not thinking about her."

"Well, obviously you are, or you wouldn't have known that I was," C.C. screamed.

"You were thinking about Miss Fine while you were kissing me?"

"Arrgh! Look Maxwell, you and I both know you love her. Well maybe it's not too late for you. Go after her. Tell her. For all our sakes, end this damn cat and mouse game for good. If the woman wants to be married, marry her. Just don't use me to make her jealous, or to convince yourself you're really a man when you're just a scared little boy."

Max frowned thoughtfully as he looked down into her blue eyes. "You're very wise, C.C., and more of a romantic that you appear. Thank you." He pulled away, squeezed her hand one last time, and reached into the closet for his coat. Then he paused and turned. "You were completely unmoved, weren't you?" He felt a sense of relief at the thought. "C.C., somewhere there's someone for you. Maybe you're finally ready to find him."

"Go," she told him firmly, pushing him toward the door.

When Max had gone to find Fran, a look of joy and anticipation on his face, C.C. slowly moved toward the office. When he returned with Nanny Fine, he would find all his work done.

She promised herself she'd just take a quick moment to gather herself together and then get down to business. Idly, she put a CD in the CD player. Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata began to circle around her like a soothing balm, releasing her pent-up emotions. C.C. sank down on the sofa and buried her face in one hand. A strangled sob escaped her despite her best efforts to hold it back, and tears began to flood her eyes.

She wasn't crying so much for the loss of Maxwell. He'd killed all her feeling for him forever when he proved he was willing to use her just to prove he didn't want Nanny Fine. Great, she thought. Even when I'm about to get laid she's involved. No, she was crying for herself, because without her pursuit of Maxwell, her life was truly empty of meaning.

Niles forced himself to walk carefully through the house, seeing that all was locked up and the lights turned out. He tried to avoid Mr. Sheffield's room, but as he went to turn out the hall light, he noticed that the door was open and no light or sound came from within. Had they finished already and gone to dinner? Niles walked past the door without looking in, not wanting to see the tangle of sheets, or worse yet, the tangle of sleeping bodies.

Oh, what the hell! Niles poked his head in the open door to find the bed made and the room empty. He frowned, confused. He'd distinctly heard Mr. Sheffield proposition Miss Babcock. And everyone knew she would never turn him away.

He went downstairs to finish locking up. When he approached the office, he heard music playing and saw golden lamplight pooled on the floor outside the partially open door. Oh, god, they were in there. He hadn't even had the courtesy to take her to bed properly, he just schtupped her in the office. Moonlight Sonata, surely one of the most beautiful songs ever written. A song for Babcock's dreams to come true by, and later to come crashing down around her ears by. He turned to go.

Then he heard a wail. It sounded like a ghost, the long, drawn-out racking sob. It sure wasn't any noise of passion he'd ever heard. Then there was another one, and another.

Niles rushed into the office. At first he didn't see her, but then he found her lying face down on the green sofa, shoulders shaking. With her long cloak and bright hair fanned out around her, she looked like the tragic heroine of a dark fairy tale.

"What's wrong?" he asked gently, lifting her up and letting her sob onto his shoulder. When she couldn't respond immediately, he handed her his handkerchief. C.C. sniffled miserably into it, then looked at it, wondering what to do with it. Somehow giving a man back his used hanky didn't seem like quite the thing.

"Keep it," he told her lightly. "It's got your cooties on it. Now, tell me what's wrong."

C.C. poured out the whole miserable story of Maxwell's proposition and her refusal. "I feel dead inside," she whispered. "Completely cold."

"No wonder. You just very bravely and sensitively sent the man of your dreams flying into the arms of a woman you hate. I'm proud of you, Babcock. Even though it didn't feel good or make you happy, you did the right thing."

"Well I'm never doin' that again!" she said forcefully. He laughed and held her close.

"When I heard you crying, I was furious," he admitted with a little smile. "I was afraid he'd upset you or something, just taking you in here like a chorus girl on a casting couch."

C.C. burst out laughing. "Oh Niles, how long have you known him? Really, you have the most morbid imagination. I can't imagine him doing something that impulsive. The man even kisses like he's scared of it."

"It's called tenderness," he said dryly, not surprised that it was an emotion she'd never learned to appreciate. "That or he was scared of all the diseases he could catch from you."

C.C. slapped his chest. "I know a bad kiss when I feel one. It wasn't tenderness, it was 'I don't wanna be here doing this.' I guess I just couldn't stand knowing that even if he managed to get through it just to drown his sorrows, he'd be thinking of her the whole time. Even I have some pride."

Niles looked at her as though he'd never seen her before. "You know, Miss Babcock, you deserve a little reward."

"Cheesecake?" she asked hopefully.

"Fun," he answered. "A little dancing, some outrageous compliments, and then we'll go to La Cote Basque, use the reservations he made for the two of you, and order the most expensive stuff on the menu on his credit card."

C.C. laughed.

Niles flipped through the CD collection, selecting one and replacing her Beethoven with it. "Dance with me. Come on, Babcock." As the strains of the Carousel Waltz filled the office, Niles swung open the terrace doors to let the warm summer air in, and extended his hand to Miss Babcock.

C.C. couldn't help but laugh. It was a little pathetic, dancing with the butler in the office, but not nearly as pathetic as crying for a man that she'd deliberately sent away to another woman.

She rose gracefully, one long pale hand moving to the clasp at her throat. With a flick of her wrist, her cloak fell from her body and rippled to the floor, leaving her clad only in a ruby velvet sheath.

Niles gasped. She looked magnificent. The gown skimmed her body and then flared slightly below the hips. The surplice top with thin straps showed an expanse of round, creamy white flesh that made his heart pound.

"He was a fool," Niles breathed, forgetting for a moment how much effort he'd put into defeating this woman and getting his boss and the nanny together.

C.C. moved into his arms. He clasped her hand firmly and wrapped the other arm around her waist. He held her a bit close for a waltz, but as he moved her slowly backward and then around in a circle, she found that it worked just fine.

It was not the first time they'd danced together. They'd spent hours in the living room after her awards ceremony, and usually did at least one duty dance together whenever he was called upon to escort her anywhere. As dance partners they were used to each other, knew each other's styles and signals. Niles knew that she appreciated a strong lead and loved to be whirled around and around. She knew the slight back-and-forth motion that meant he was about to dip her, and trusted him not to drop her.

What C.C. didn't know was how often Niles danced with her solely to feed his fantasies of sweeping her into a dance far more intimate. What Niles didn’t know was that her smile disguised her confusion and the guilty pleasure she felt at the way their bodies moved together and the way his strong arms enfolded her.

Niles looked at her sparkling eyes and wide, laughing mouth and promised himself a hundred times that he would kiss her, and a hundred times chickened out completely. He didn't realize that she knew his signals so well that she could tell by the tension in his body and the look on his face that he was thinking about taking their bodies into a more intimate alignment. She knew, and yet made no move to resist.

They danced for nearly an hour. He swept her gracefully out onto the terrace, where the moonlight turned her hair to platinum, her skin milky, and her lips a deep crimson. Then, back inside in the dim light of the desk lamp, she was a dusky golden goddess once more.

He complimented her extravagantly, as promised, such elaborate, ridiculous praises that she laughed out loud. Dipping her low, he proclaimed grandly, "Miss Babcock, your golden beauty is exceeded only by the way you schmooze investors so perfectly. The way you feed paper through a shredder is the most sensual thing I have ever seen. My heart pounds madly every time I watch your lips move as you tell someone they'll regret they day they ever crossed you."

C.C. giggled, feeling drunk though she hadn't had a drop. "So tell me, Rochester," she said seductively. "What else can that big feather duster of yours do?"

"It's a very talented feather duster," he assured her.

"Mmm, and it just drives me wild the way your soufflé always rises to the occasion."

"Always," he assured her.

"And those insults! Oh, Niles, I still can't believe I'm getting them five, six times a day, every day."

"You're a source of infinite inspiration, Caca."

"I just love it when you call me Caca," she sighed rapturously. "Oh, Niles. Take me to dinner, now, please! I can't wait any longer!"

Niles dipped her low, then whirled her to her feet. "Come on, baby. Wanna watch me crack his safe to get to his credit card?"

"Oh, yes!"

Once the safe was open, Niles touched the credit card reverently. He gave a long, drawn-out moan. "Wanna touch it?" he coaxed.

C.C.'s eyes had glazed over. "Oh, Niles, please -- oh, you mean the credit card." C.C. touched it and feigned a little gasp of excitement.

Niles looked at her strangely. He shrugged and grinned. "Are you ready?"

"Always," she assured him.

"I bet you are," he murmured, dropping her cloak over her shoulders and leading her out the door.

"For dinner!" she clarified with a grin.

Fran sat languidly on the sofa picking at a bowl of popcorn. She didn't even have enough enthusiasm to binge on some Haagen-Dazs, although god knew Ma kept enough around to get her through a hundred Mr. Sheffields.

Nah, there wasn't enough food in the world to do that. Fran got up and headed for the freezer.

The doorbell rang. Fran's heart started pounding faster. "Naw, it couldn't be," she assured herself. She patted her pouf and licked her front teeth to be sure there was no lipstick on them.

Her hand shook as she opened the door.

It was a delivery boy. "Flowers for Miss Fine," he said. She tipped him and took the spray of red roses into the living room. She didn't see the dark-haired man step up to the door until he spoke.

Catching the door that almost hit him in the nose, Maxwell said quietly, "Did the flowers work?"

Fran turned to him. "They're beautiful," she said, smiling. Then, her mouth turned sharply down. "Whatsa matter, Miss Babcock wanted orchids?"

Max gestured to her tight jeans and hot pink sweater. "Does Teddy Imperiali like the casual look?" he asked testily.

"I can't go out," Fran informed him primly. "I have a sniffle. I have allergies."

"I would think you'd be allergic to the Imperialis by this time!" Max retorted peevishly.

"Now you see?" she cried angrily. "This is it, Mr. Sheffield. You heard I was dating again, that I was trying to get over you, which is what you say you want me to do, but the minute I do it, you come running to stop me. Then when you've gotten your way, it's all criticism and coldness. Well you can just leave me alone, and don't forget to kiss my cute Jewish tuchus on your way out!"

Max's jaw dropped. "Miss Fine, I came here to tell you I love you!"

Fran dropped weakly on to the sofa. "What?" she gasped.

"I love you, Miss Fine, and no, I'm not ready to commit to marriage right away, but I don't think that's so terrible. Is it unreasonable of me to want to date for a while first?"

"No," she said softly, almost shyly. "I guess not."

Max knelt before her. "Come out with me tonight. I have dinner reservations at La Cote Basque. Pack your things and we'll take you home afterwards."

"Just a minute," she said with haughty dignity. "Lemme think." She paused and tilted her head. "Okay!"

Just as Niles parked the car, C.C. said a very bad word. He raised his eyebrows in pretend shock. "It's Maxwell and Nanny Fine," she scowled.

Niles sighed in resignation. "When are you going to get over seeing them together?"

"Get over it, my ass," she screeched. "They're gonna get our table!"

Gleefully, Niles swiftly spun the wheel of the Porsche and slid into the parking space ahead of Maxwell, who honked in outrage and barely missed rear-ending him.

Niles grinned in wicked delight. It seemed he would be cutting Mr. Sheffield out in more than one way tonight.

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