by
Aimee
(aimeed@earthlink.net)
Niles swept his arm wide in a dramatic gesture that would have been elegant had he not been holding a frying pan. With his rich baritone, he caressed the words of a recently popular song by Celine Dion: "My heart will go ooooonnnnnn, and oooooonnnnnn . . . " His big dramatic finish was punctuated by the frying pan whacking the wall and taking a chip out of the paint. Niles cringed and quickly shoved it in the dishwasher.
Fran Sheffield grinned at him from the table. "Not excited about your big vacation or anything, are you? When do you leave?"
"As soon as I've finished the dishes. Your lunches for the next ten days are cooked and in the freezer, labeled and cross-indexed by ingredients. I recommend the lasagna for next week when your time of the month is approaching. I didn't bother about dinner, you can just order takeout."
"I still can't believe you're going on that ship. Toi, toi, toi!" Fran spat. "You'd never get me on it, not for worlds. It's cursed."
"Miss Fine -- I mean, Mrs. Sheffield, that is utterly absurd. There are perfectly valid reasons why the first Titanic sank, the primary one having to do with an iceberg through the hull, which was made of weak materials that would never pass inspection by today's standards, complicated by watertight bulkheads that weren't waterproof because -- "
"All right, all right, if you want to risk your hide, far be it from me to object. But when that ship is on the bottom of the ocean just like the first one and your scummy green bones have been picked clean by the sharks, don't come running to me."
"I wouldn't dream of it. My scummy green bones would drip all over my nice clean carpet. Oh, come on, travelling on the Titanic II for her maiden voyage will be a great adventure! I still think you two should have come with me."
"I'm just surprised you planned your trip at the same time as Miss Babcock's. If you'd taken your vacations at separate times, you could have had a whole month apart."
Niles rolled his eyes. "Well, I asked them to set sail at a different time just for me, but they insisted on sailing while the sea monster herself was at large. Gives a historical reproduction cruise like this an air of authenticity."
Fran, passing by him to refill her coffee cup, smacked his arm. "I wonder if you'll see each other. After all, she'll still be in London buying antiques for her apartment while you'll be there."
"London is a huge city, and I'll only be there overnight on my way to Southampton for the cruise. I'm sure as long as I stay away from all the major cemeteries, I'll be safe from her. Besides, Miss Babcock didn't go to buy antiques, she went to sell one."
"Really?" Fran asked. "What?"
"Herself."
Fran giggled and hit his arm.
Just then, Maxwell jogged down the stairs in search of his old friend. "Still loafing about in here, old man? You'd better get going. I've called for the limo to take you to the airport."
"Thank you, sir. I just can't tell you how much leaving you for two whole weeks is killing me."
Max rolled his eyes. "Go on. Fran and I can finish the dishes."
Niles, not believing his luck, was up the stairs for his suitcases and out the door with a hasty "See ya, people!" before Max could think twice.
Fran watched out the front window until she saw the limo pull away from the curb.
"Oh, good, now I can tell you my secret!" she said to Max. "This is the best. I didn't want to warn Niles, though, so I waited 'till he was gone."
"Secret?" Maxwell asked warily. "Fran, what mischief are you up to?"
Fran hurried over to a drawer. She removed a colorful brochure and set it on the counter in front of Max. "This is the brochure from the Titanic II, the ship Niles will be sailing on, right?"
"Right."
"Well, Miss Babcock went to England too, and she's coming home around the same time he is, and this brochure fell out of her briefcase the other day before she left." Fran took out an identical brochure and set it next to Niles'.
Max gasped. "Niles and C.C. together on the same ship without supervision?" He raised one eyebrow as high as it would go. "Good God, that ship really is cursed." He rubbed his hands together, laughing gleefully as Fran nudged him and giggled.
It was ten a.m., the earliest that passengers were allowed to board. C.C.'s luggage had been sent directly from her hotel, so that as she pushed her way through the crowds that had been gathered on the dock for two hours now, she carried only her small white purse. It matched the wide-brimmed white hat with which she shielded her delicate skin from the sun. She adjusted her sunglasses and looked around.
From the pictures she'd seen, very little had changed in the nearly ninety years since the maiden voyage of the original Titanic. Only the clothing and some, but not all, of the buildings were different, and of course, some of the ships were more modern in style. But the atmosphere, the crowds, the ship itself was the same.
And once again on a slightly overcast day, thousands gathered in homage to a magnificent ship, a true queen of the seas. It wasn't in C.C.'s nature to stop and smell the roses very often, but even she paused to savor this moment, to imagine that she was a lady of long ago, perhaps a debutante on her way to New York for the Season, or maybe a young widow, beautiful and tragic. Maybe even married to a handsome businessman, harboring the secret of her first pregnancy under a still-flat stomach and a secret smile.
Naahh. Not that last one.
C.C. loved history. It was so much a part of her because of how her own lineage had been stamped indelibly upon her consciousness from an early age. A couple of cousins had died aboard the original Titanic, and one had been saved, a woman who was old and forgetful by the time C.C. knew her, but had still allowed the fascinated youngest Babcock to sit at her feet and hear the tale of the great ship from one who'd seen it all.
That woman had died long ago, finally joining the husband and brother-in-law who'd perished with the original ship. Now, C.C., two generations later, set her feet upon the gangplank and approached Titanic II to relive that maiden voyage with a profound pleasure and a little delicious fear. It was so big, so powerful. If it could be destroyed, what chance did one lone woman stand should anything happen? She didn't believe it would, but like a racecar driver or an explorer of old, C.C. loved the challenge. It was the very danger that made it interesting.
C.C. caressed the smooth metal railing briefly. There were still two hours left until the ship sailed.
She went to her cabin immediately, first-class cabin B59. When she went in, a maid was arranging her clothing in drawers and cupboards. C.C. nodded to the woman and began to explore.
The entire room was paneled in dark wood. Oriental-patterned fabric wallpaper gave the room a lush, luxurious air, as did the similarly patterned carpeting. Up against one wall, her bed had tall posts hung with heavy velvet draperies. All the fabrics, including carpet and wallpaper, were in muted shades of red. In the center of the room sat a small table, perfect to sit and have breakfast or write a letter at, and against the wall, an old-fashioned chaise lounge with cushions awaited her.
Happy but still tired from days of wandering London by herself, C.C. decided to lay down and rest for a while before the departure. She stretched out on the narrow bed and closed her eyes.
It was 11:45 when Niles finally located a porter and gave him terse directions as to the luggage. As a consequence, he was out of breath from running as he dashed up the gangplank. But once he was safely on board, he paused to look around.
It was eerie. He'd seen movies and pictures, and it was like stepping right into one of them. Far below him, the tiny faces in the crowd could have been from any time period. Above him, a low baritone peal came from the ship.
She was utterly magnificent, perfect, powerful and impregnable yet sleek and fast, an old-fashioned lady of strength and beauty. Niles took his time as he wandered the decks looking at the people and the ship.
He grinned to himself as he passed the lifeboats. He was very, very glad to see them despite what he'd told Fran about not being superstitious. Well, he also wasn't foolish.
Speaking of Fran, it was a good thing she wasn't around. Niles had already spotted several celebrities on board the ship, and Fran would probably already have fallen overboard trying to make friends. Al Pacino, Kenneth Branagh, Celine Dion, and a number of others would all have become the objects of her hysterical attention. Pretending to casually snap photos of the ship, he managed to snap pictures of several of them to take home to her.
One woman in particular aroused his curiosity. She emerged from the first class hallway on B deck to push her way to a space at the rail. He thought she must be a celebrity, for she looked very familiar, yet without seeing her face, he couldn't tell who it was. He snapped a photo or two of her just in case, and found himself very curious.
She had a gorgeous figure. She wore a long sleeveless white dress and had slender, toned arms, a narrow waist, round hips and a small, round derriere, and long legs which she crossed casually at the ankle as she leaned far out over the railing. Under her wide-brimmed white hat, he could just see chin-length blonde hair whipping around in the breeze.
Niles shrugged and moved along. With any luck, he would see more of her and be able to discover her identity. She had an eerie familiarity.
C.C. felt a prickle of awareness, but when she turned around, no one was there that she knew. It must have been the breeze. She'd have to start carrying a sweater.
Niles feasted on the snacks being passed on trays before departure and decided to skip lunch and explore the ship. He saw everything, from the gymnasium to the swimming pool, from the Turkish bath to the engine room. He stopped in the barbershop to purchase souvenirs for Mrs. Sheffield and the children. He forgot all about tea time in his excitement, and other than one brief visit to check on his luggage, didn't go to his room until the gong sounded to tell the passengers it was time to dress for dinner.
Niles found his clothing neatly arranged in the armoire. Before he changed clothes, he took a brief survey of his room. First Class Stateroom B57 was beautiful. It wasn't the most luxurious of the staterooms on Titanic, but it was first class and it beat anything he'd seen on modern cruise ships, which tended to be as impersonal and neutral as a Holiday Inn.
In one corner sat a narrow bed with a white-painted frame and a dark blue satin counterpane. Across the room sat a small writing desk, and there was dark blue fabric wallpaper and oak paneling. The carpet was thick and dark blue.
It didn't take long to get ready. Niles inspected himself in the mirror and was satisfied with what he saw. Since his heart attack a couple of years ago, he'd worked out assiduously and the results showed in the trimmer, more elegant body he now possessed. Despite his age, he was still a handsome man.
When the bell rang, C.C. had already been in her room for half an hour getting ready. To her utter delight, Kenneth Branagh had recognized her from when they'd worked together on a production years ago, and he and Helena Bonham-Carter had asked her to join their table at dinner. C.C.'s only fear about coming on this cruise had been that she might end up spending all her time alone, but between her connections in the theater and her connections as a Babcock, that didn't look like it would be a problem.
C.C. blow-dried her hair and took it down from the tight pin curls she'd placed it in. She fluffed it with a pick and gathered it smoothly back into an artless cluster on the crown of her head, a style that flattered her excellent bone structure. She let her robe drop from her shoulders and laid it over the chair to the dressing table, then slid into her evening gown. It was midnight blue and had thousands of tiny beads woven into it. The straps met at the back of her neck, and the skirt flowed smoothly and gracefully down over her hips and legs. Strappy dark blue heels completed the look.
C.C. smiled at her reflection in the mirror. Hair, perfect. Dress, perfect. Makeup, perfect. She turned to go.
Niles dawdled for a while, then decided it had been long enough and he could now go to dinner without being unfashionably early. Checking himself once more in the mirror, he turned to go.
As he left his room, he saw the lovely blonde he'd seen leaning over the deck at departure. Suddenly, he had a flashback to the Caribbean cruise he'd taken with the family. Miss Babcock had bent over just so when she was locking the door to her stateroom, her sun-gold hair upswept to expose her pale throat. He laughed at himself when his heart missed a beat. Nothing to worry about. The Witch of Endor was hundreds of miles away in London, on dry land.
C.C. heard a low laugh not five feet from her and turned. When he saw her familiar features, Niles gasped out, "Oh, no! Babcock!" At the same time, she let out a scream of rage that echoed and reacted all the way down the passage.
They came face to face, meeting in the middle. Nose to nose with him, she snarled, "What are you doing here?"
"On bloody vacation until I discovered that Countess Dracula is rooming next door!" He didn't back away at all, never even blinked as he met her snapping blue eyes with his.
C.C. took a deep breath and collected herself. "Well, have fun, Niles. I'm sure it must be nice for you to be on the other side of the buffet table for once. Just stay out of my way. There are a ton of potential stars, to say nothing of backers, on this ship, and I don't intend to let a damn butler ruin things."
"Fine with me. Suck them dry, Miss Babcock, just keep your fangs out of my neck."
"Believe me, that won't be a problem! Like I'd want to be seen with a pathetic old man like you."
"Same here!"
They turned abruptly and went in opposite directions, until Niles realized with a groan that in order to get to the first class dining room, he was going to have to follow her.
Despite their mutual promise, avoiding that harpy was a job of work. They always seemed to meet each other when leaving for meals. When Niles began eating on a different schedule, he still met her returning as he was going. Once, it got so drastic that he was returning from a late lunch just as she was leaving for an early tea.
They met strolling on deck when C.C. was talking with Oprah Winfrey and Niles was exchanging gossip with Oprah's maid.
Niles stared at C.C. in mock disbelief. "Do you mean to tell me no one's thrown you overboard yet?"
"They're afraid to leave you on the ship without me to defend them. I told them to just toss you over the railing like they do all the other rotten kitchen products."
"I thought that nasty fish smell came from you."
"No, but it's just like you to go around sniffing people. Just don't try to hump anybody's leg."
"I wouldn't hump anything of yours."
"Do you even know how?"
"Not as well as you, I'm sure, but then you're the pro."
Oprah was in hysterics. "C.C., introduce me to your, uh, friend! Not only does he know all the gossip, he's a stitch!"
"This," C.C. said with a tight glare, "is Oprah Winfrey, a major celebrity that everyone loves. This is Niles, Maxwell Sheffield's butler, a major pain in the butt that everyone laughs at."
"Niles, why don't you join us for lunch in the Café Parisien? You two are like a stand-up comedy routine!"
Just to irk C.C., Niles accepted.
The next day, they met at the swimming pool. C.C. scowled at the sight of a dripping Niles in swimming trunks, and he glared at the wet blonde in the bright red maillot.
C.C. had just finished executing a flawless swan dive into the water, cutting effortlessly into the depths and back to the surface. She hauled herself out and found herself behind Niles in line for the diving board.
"Niles, don't you look adorable in next to nothing. Gee, I can't imagine why women aren't just flocking around you. Of course, it could have something to do with all the buff young male celebrities putting you in the shade."
"Or the fact that I'm talking with the creature from the black latrine. Is that red suit supposed to be some kind of Baywatch parody? Because on you it's a real joke."
"Don't knock it till you've tried it, not that anyone would let you try it."
Niles walked to the end of the diving board. He bounced lightly up and down a couple of times, but was stopped by the sound of her voice. "Hey Niles! The big difference between me and the Baywatch girls is, mine are real!" She laughed loudly as Niles promptly tripped and fell sideways into the pool.
When he surfaced, spluttering and knocking the side of his head to get the water out of his ears, she stood gracefully at the end of the diving board. Waving to him, she jumped, curled her body into a ball, and hit the water.
When she surfaced, she breathed deeply and looked around for him. He was once again spluttering, for her cannonball hit him just as he was catching his breath.
C.C. laughed again and swam clear of the diving area. Just as she was about to pull herself up over the side, she felt arms grabbing her legs, hauling her back into the pool.
She went down struggling and shrieking as Niles shoved her head under. She panicked and struggled for freedom when she swallowed about a gallon of water, but she was only under a second or two when he released her and she popped back up to the surface. She huddled, coughing and treading water, while he chuckled at her. Then, she swept her arm wide and sent a wave of water cascading over his head.
Niles' arms were more powerful, though, and he sent an even bigger wave back her way. C.C. barraged him with constant splashing, which he countered with a tidal wave. She lunged at him and pressed down on his shoulders trying to force him under, but he easily tossed her off and she flopped over his shoulder. Now behind him, she grabbed him and wrapped her arms around his neck, trying again to shove him under.
A loud whistle caused them both to freeze at once. The lifeguard gestured them to get out of the pool.
They climbed out and stood before him, dripping and furious. "You two," snapped the lifeguard. "I don't want to see you two in here again until you can play safely."
"Yes, Daddy," snapped C.C., taking a towel from an attendant. She tossed it to Niles and took another for herself.
"Spoilsport," Niles muttered. The two of them turned to go. "I didn't want to play in his old pool anyway."
"I know. What did we do?" C.C. slipped on her sunglasses.
"Nothing, he's just on a power trip." Niles did the same.
"Don't I know it. Imagine, kicking us out for nothing." C.C. tied a red sarong around her waist. It stuck to her legs, making walking uncomfortable.
"Bugger." Niles pulled a polo shirt over his head, but it was soon soaked through.
They turned to each other simultaneously as they toweled off their hair, saying, "It's all your fault. Mine? You started it." They glared at each other as they walked out side by side.
It was the night of April 14, the anniversary of the big iceberg crash, and an evening of special events had been planned. First, there would be a dinner served that was the exact menu served that fateful evening long ago. Then, they would gather for an Edwardian costume ball. Finally, half the lifeboats would be lowered so those passengers who wanted to could see what it had been like escaping from the sinking ship. C.C. and Niles had both signed up almost the minute they boarded the ship on the first day.
As always, C.C. and Niles left for dinner at the same time. This time, however, instead of stalking haughtily off in opposite directions, which meant that Niles had to take the long way and arrive late, they simply stopped and stared at each other.
Tuxedos hadn't changed much since Edwardian times, but Niles managed to give his an air of authenticity by adding a top hat, gloves, and an ankle-length swirling evening cape. He had even slicked his hair into the style of an early twentieth century gentleman.
"You look like Count Dracula," C.C. said icily, unhappy to find that it was a rather good look for him. She just hated being attracted to the damn butler, and lived in mortal fear that one day he might guess her perverted little secret.
Niles looked her up and down. "You look like you've already drowned once," he retorted. It was an utter lie and he cursed his fatally bad taste in women. This one was poison, but he couldn't stop himself.
Her cream-colored silk and lace gown and upswept hair gave her the air of a princess. The gown had a scooped neckline cut low over her round pale breasts, and delicate lace cap sleeves. The empire waist was sashed in wide ivory satin ribbon, and the skirt fell gracefully to the floor over her round hips and long legs. She wore opera-length ivory gloves and diamond earrings with a matching pendant and bracelet.
He was recalled to the reality that he hated her guts when she responded to his comment. "Too bad there isn't an iceberg within miles. I'd kick you off the ship myself and leave you there." She smirked at him, swinging her little cream velvet evening bag in gloved fingers.
Niles scowled at her, wanting to wipe that smirk off her face. "The only iceberg within miles of this ship is the one standing right in front of me. Good night, Juliet."
"Don't let them catch you out of the kitchen, Pine Sol!" Juliet? she wondered. As in, Shakespeare's? She watched him stalk away and burned with curiosity about his offhand remark. Somehow she knew, though, that it wasn't something she wanted to examine too closely.
God, she hated that man.
As Niles and C.C. shot nasty looks at each other from across the opulent first-class dining room, deep within the bowels of the great ship a tuxedo-clad figure moved stealthily through a storage area. Coming up next to the wall of the ship, he took a small device with a timer attached and fastened it to the inside of the hull. He pushed a button and it started to make a high-pitched digital ticking. Then, he left to join the festivities up on deck.
C.C.'s eyes sparkled up into Al Pacino's as he swept her gracefully into a waltz. She loved men like him: older, sophisticated, and weathered. She never managed to attract them, though, because the ones that weren't happily married by that age were usually after anorexic twenty-year olds with fake breasts, but for this moment, C.C. Babcock could enjoy being the chosen partner of one of the sexiest men alive. The knowledge was made even sweeter when she noticed Niles sitting out the dancing by himself.
"Go for him, my dear," whispered Al.
"I beg your pardon? Who?"
"Whoever it is you're watching over my shoulder," he answered knowingly.
C.C. gave a high-pitched, nervous giggle. "Nonsense!" she said, hitting his arm lightly with her fingertips. "What woman could think of another man when she's dancing with you?" He just smiled.
C.C. spent the rest of the evening dancing only with actors and potential backers, and made several very valuable connections. She noticed that Niles did end up dancing several times, including a foxtrot with Oprah Winfrey. Finally, it was nearing midnight and those who wanted to go out on the boats would have to leave after one more dance.
The band struck up a tango. C.C. heard a familiar voice behind her as she stood sipping punch and watching the moonlight on the water outside. "Miss Babcock," came the sexy, raspy voice of Al Pacino. C.C. was ecstatic. She'd seen Scent of a Woman. That man could really tango! She whirled around, making her skirts flare out slightly. Al was there. So, however, was Niles.
Pacino saw her startled, confused glance. He put two and two together long before his two companions did, and said to C.C., "I see you already have a partner, so I'll simply say that I'm looking forward to doing some Broadway in the near future, and I'm very interested in your 'My Fair Lady' revival."
"You're hired!" blurted C.C., but those deep Italian eyes were gone.
Niles stood before her. "I just came to make sure the human ice sculpture hadn't melted, but now it seems we're obligated to a dance."
"Al Pacino!" she squeaked in ecstasy. "I've gotta call Maxwell!" But before she could dig the cell phone out of her purse, Niles had her hand and was leading her to the floor.
He first moved her into a tango basic so they could chat. "I realize that dancing with me must be a comedown after dancing naked beneath the full moon," he whispered.
"Too bad that sticking pins in the butler doll didn't have the desired effect," she replied.
"Ice princess," he riposted.
"Menial."
He spun her one way and then the other in a fan step, then pulled her cheek to cheek for the classic tango move. He was surprised that she could follow the steps. She just didn't seem like a tango kind of woman.
C.C. loved to tango. It appealed to the passionate side of her nature that she kept so carefully hidden. When he spun her around to face him again, a tendril of hair fell into her eyes as she snapped her head to the side and flicked her foot in a dramatic pose.
"Big finish, Miss Babcock," he whispered. He spun her around, caught her by the waist, and lunged deeply. C.C. wrapped one arm around his neck and extended the other gracefully downward as he bent her body back.
A few of C.C.'s actor friends began drumming their fists on the table and chanting "Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!"
"Sod off!" squeaked C.C., before Niles spun her to her feet again and crushed her mouth under his.
C.C. went limp in his arms, remembering that other forbidden kiss the time the two of them got drunk on Johnny Walker in the Sheffield living room. The same hot stab of lust shot hard through her. Even while his warm mouth teased hers, she wondered with angry desperation why it was Niles, of all the men in the world, who had the power to make her feel hot, demanding, and totally helpless to resist him.It was only when he'd released her that she realized they were alone in the middle of the dance floor and he had the devil dancing in his blue eyes. He was laughing at her!
A joke! He'd done it for a damned joke, C.C. fumed as she stalked down the corridor to her room several minutes later. As she threw open the door to the armoire and pulled out a gray velvet cloak for the lifeboat trip, she realized that it had been entirely too long since she'd been with a man when Niles was enough to make her tremble with desire. Well, nobody screwed C.C. over. She would have revenge.
She draped the gray cloak around her shoulders and pulled on an extra pair of gloves as she hurried out. As she did, she met Niles racing down the hall toward his room, cape fluttering behind him like a banner. He stopped when he saw her. "We're going to have to talk later, princess," he told her. "But for now, I've got to run. I need to get a coat and get to the boats."
"I'll tell them to hold the last boat," offered C.C..
He nodded and disappeared into his room. She laughed deviously.
C.C. arrived on A deck just in time to tell the second officer to scratch Niles' name off the passenger list for the trip because he couldn't make it, and requested that his seat be given to someone on the waiting list.
C.C. then allowed them to hand her into the boat. She gathered her cloak around her and pulled on the antique leather gloves she'd brought with her from her room. She probably looked silly wearing winter gloves over evening gloves, but she didn't want to freeze.
Her boat was the second to the last to be lowered. As it detached and began to ease away from the ship she could clearly see the moment when Niles arrived on deck, his white silk scarf flapping against a black wool coat. C.C. giggled. "Niles," she shouted, and waved.
He stared back in shock, then threw back his head. His laughter carried across the water. Far away through the cold midnight air, she heard him shout, "I'll get you, Miss Babcock!"
A dark-haired woman next to C.C. spoke to her. "Who is that?" she asked, laughing.
C.C., thrilled to have an appreciative audience, explained her joke. The woman laughed heartily before introducing herself as Lady Madeline Lloyd Webber.
Lord Andrew Lloyd Webber's wife! And there he was sitting right behind her. C.C. had an idea for making the most of this golden opportunity, but she had to disguise her identity. "Claire, umm, Claire Niles," she said, smiling her most dazzling smile. She pulled her hood up to prevent his getting a clear look at her face, a well-known one in the Broadway community. "I've seen everything you've ever done. Tell me, are you working on anything interesting now?"
"Oh, he won't tell," Madeline replied for him, laughing. "Sometimes he doesn't even tell me. He just writes little notes in his notebook all the time."
C.C. raised her eyebrows as Lord Lloyd Webber tapped his pocket, where a black leather day planner could be seen sticking out.
"How exciting!" she exclaimed with a sweet smile. "Oh! Look, there really are icebergs, just like in the stories! There's one now!"
As he turned to look at the berg, C.C. slid her hand into his pocket, and before he'd turned around, his notebook was safe in her evening bag. Maxwell would be proud.
She was so self-satisfied that she didn't even notice the dull roar from the ship, but she saw the looks of horror all around her. "What the hell is wrong?" she demanded of Madeline before she heard the shriek of tearing metal and the collective shouts of terror from those still on the ship.
C.C. whirled. The whole scene seemed to be erupting in slow motion, as on the far side of the ship a hellish glow became a rolling cloud of smoke and flame. She tried to cry out with the others, but her throat went dry with horror and her scream died in silence.
People on the ship fought and screamed to get to the remaining lifeboats that had not been launched for the outing. Some were already jumping ship and swimming toward the lifeboats already launched. They were just a pouring, moving mass of tiny, panicked insects, and no one face could be picked out from the crowd.
C.C. found her voice. "Niles!" she screamed, knowing it was futile.
Niles balanced carefully on the listing deck as he tried to fight down panic and help get an inflatable going. Judging by the scene around him, he was pretty sure he was the only one who remembered the maritime tradition of women and children being first.
At least C.C. was safe. That was one thing less to worry about.
C.C. was struggling and screaming his name. "Niles! Niles! This is all my fault! He'd be safe in a boat if not for my stupid joke!" she wailed to Madeline. Tears were streaming down her face as she fought to stand. Her companions held her down so she wouldn't upset the boat.
A burly sailor grabbed her waist and clapped a hand to her mouth to stop her screams. C.C. bit down hard and he cursed and shoved her away.
She sat at the very edge of the boat staring out at the ship, which had begun to list visibly. For some reason known only to whatever gods saw fit to bless them thus, the ship was taking forever to sink. Lifeboats were shooting away as fast as they could be filled and lowered. Niles wasn't on any of the boats that came near her, but very few people were left on the ship by now. Perhaps he was already safe.
The inflatable was gone, full of people. Niles watched it go with his heart in his throat. He hurried to the other side of the ship. By now, it was listing so badly he could barely keep his balance. Twenty minutes ago, he'd been shaking his fist at the incorrigible C.C. Babcock, the clever wench. Now, he was nearly alone on a sinking ship.
C.C.! He didn't dare think about maybe never seeing her evil smile again.
Niles saw the last boat far ahead of him. Above and in the distance, helicopters were already dropping ladders to those in the boats to carry them to safety. He began to stumble and run.
"Max! Max! Call the Coast Guard! Call the Air Force!" Fran bolted into the bedroom. She dropped her nightgown to the floor and began to struggle into jeans and a sweater. "What are you waiting for? We have to save them!"
"Save who, darling? Oh, my God, is it the children?" Max was out of bed and already shedding his pajamas as he spoke. He pulled on the pants she handed him as he listened to her babble.
"I was watching the live Titanic feed on CNN. I thought maybe we'd get to see a glimpse of Niles or C.C. at the celebration, but somebody blew up the ship! It's sinking fast. We've got to save them!"
Max didn't question her at all. He was already on the telephone chartering a helicopter, remembering as he did how C.C. had once done the same for him and Fran, and how many times Niles had saved his tuchus in one way or another over the years.
Five minutes later, they were on their way to a heliport. Fran had gathered food and blankets. Max gunned the engine of the Porsche. Screw the pedestrians, this was an emergency.
C.C. was shrieking hysterically and clinging to a flimsy metal ladder dangling from a helicopter. A rescue ship was already in speeding into view, and in a few minutes, she'd be safe aboard it, but she didn't want to be safe until she'd found Niles. Frantically, she scanned the activity below her.
Just as she approached the area over the ship, she saw him climbing over the railing into a lifeboat. The boat was already detached and floating. They had to get away quickly, or the flimsy inflatable would be pulled down as the ship sank. It appeared to have about ten minutes left based on the speed it was sinking. C.C. didn't dare cry out to him lest he stumble and fall as they tried to pull him from the sinking ship.
There! He was safe. She shouted his name.
Niles heard his name from above and began to laugh. There was Miss Babcock, clinging to a terrifyingly fragile-looking metal ladder.
She was trying to get his attention, and her struggles caused the man above her to shout and curse.
"Miss Babcock, be still!" shouted Niles, but it was too late.
Just as the ladder swept the deck of the badly tilting ship, Niles saw the man above C.C. loose his balance. His foot struck C.C.'s hand. He recovered, but she did not. She fell screaming to the deck and scrambled wildly to find something to cling to.
"C.C.!" he roared. This was starting to sound like a really bad movie script.
She was out of sight on the far side of the ship. There was no way she'd be able to hear him.
Things were falling all around her. The ship was on the verge of going down. C.C. limped painfully on a twisted leg as she fought her way to the railing, dodging debris as she desperately tried to think. Niles, at least, was safe, so she didn't have to worry about him, but she was already ankle-deep in water so cold it made her want to cry.
"NO!" she screamed. "I won't go like this. I won't die cold and alone!" She welcomed the anger. It made her strong and cleared the panic from her brain.
There was an iceberg nearby. If she could get to that, she could wait there for a chopper or a lifeboat to come for her, but the top was far too up to climb. There was only one chance that she could see.
C.C. clung to a railing for the two most terrible minutes of her entire life as the ship began its final descent into the freezing waters below. Finally, the ship tilted down and to the side, raising C.C. higher in the air, and her chance came. She dove off the ship and tumbled and scrabbled with her hands to find a purchase on the ice, and finally landed hard in a fairly flat space between two peaks. She lay for a few minutes with the wind knocked out of her, but she was alive and not drowned, and she felt certain that a rescue copter would find her soon.
"Come back for us when there's no chance of the ship dragging you under!" Niles shouted and dove into the water. The cold stung and burned like heat, and he had to swim fast to get to the other side of the berg so the ship couldn't pull him under. His heavy coat weighted him down in the water, and he was afraid he'd never make it, so he discarded it and let it sink lest it drag him under as well. He found a floating deck chair to cling to and kicked hard. Slowly, he made his way around to the opposite side of C.C.'s icy haven.
He shouted her name until he was hoarse, and finally her golden head popped over the side of the iceberg, and she yelled, "Niles, I'm a little chilly. Could you get me some tea?"
He tried to laugh, but the cold stole his breath. C.C. removed her cloak and held it by the hood, extending its length so that Niles could grab it and try to climb the sloping, jagged side of the berg.
Though both their arms ached miserably, soon Niles was seated beside her near the top of the berg, rubbing his hands to try to restore the feeling in them. His gloves were soaked through, and her small kid gloves weren't nearly big enough to fit his large hands, so he removed his wet gloves and set them aside to dry, and shoved his hands in the pockets of his pants.
"I'm going to strangle you for this, Babcock," he remarked conversationally.
"Why'd you jump ship, dumbass? I was safe!"
"Well, I keep forgetting, ice is your natural element."
C.C. was furious. "In the last half hour, I've almost died, seen you almost die, nearly broken my leg twice, robbed Andrew Lloyd Webber, and despite it all, neatly engineered my own rescue. Do you say a word about my brains or courage? No. Just complaints about a situation you got yourself into."
"Well of all the ungrateful -- What about Andrew Lloyd -- " He grew silent when she touched his arm and pointed to the Titanic II. They watched in numb horror as the ship slid at an angle and sank forever below the freezing waves. Niles' jaw was set, and C.C.'s eyes and mouth were wide. "We danced together on that ship less than an hour ago," she whispered. He'd kissed her on that ship.
Niles remained silent and rigid. C.C. noticed that his clothing was soaking wet. She began to laugh. "With all that's happened to me, I didn't even end up in the water past my knees," she remarked in amusement, removing her cloak and putting it around him, leaving her own arms bare. He groaned, shivering miserably. "Niles, are you all right?" She reached forward to put her hand on his arm.
Niles was not too cold to appreciate the low décolletage on her gown, and she noticed the direction of his gaze, amused at his ability to notice such a thing even in their predicament. "If they freeze and fall off, just remember, I did it all for you," she said dryly.
Niles hurried to pull her cloak around them both. "Can't have that, Babcock, they're the only visible proof you're female," he retorted. But what a woman, his inner voice reminded him. Sometimes he really hated his inner voice.
"And the proof that you're a man is where?" she inquired disbelievingly.
"I'm not showing you in this weather, it doesn't take well to the cold!" he replied.
C.C. cracked up, laughing raucously. He tried to laugh but once again found that the cold stole his breath. She gasped. "Niles, you'll be frostbitten all over! Where are those copters? You're turning blue!" She began to rub his hands between hers.
"Too bad icebergs don't have phones," he remarked in a hoarse whisper.
C.C. snapped her fingers. "That's it! Oh, I hope it didn't get wet!" She pulled out her cell phone and began to dial. "Hello, I need the coast guard. . . I'm stranded on an iceberg. I was on the Titanic II. There's a freezing man with me." Niles heard only bits and pieces of C.C.'s struggle to contact a rescue coptor. He knew it could be fatal to fall asleep, but he was so desperately tired and cold. He began to drift into unconsciousness.
C.C. flipped the cell phone shut and saw the sleeping man at her side. She'd seen enough ski accidents to know that this was bad. Niles could still die in the short time they had left to wait.
"Niles? Wake up, they'll be here in twenty minutes. Niles, wake up! Please, Niles!" She drew back her hand and slapped him hard.
"Abusive witch!" he mumbled.
"I'm trying to save your life, you ungrateful maid! Here, put your arms around me so I can cover us both with my cloak."
Niles felt a sense of warmth and well-being as he lay his head on her soft breasts and she lay her golden head on his slightly darker one. He felt himself drifting off again.
C.C. pulled his hair hard. "Niles!"
"Begone, foul thing of the night! Get your own damn tea."
"Niles, wake up. Please."
"Tired."
C.C. was in no mood to get sentimental. She'd been doing just fine until he got heroic, now she had him to save too.
"Damn it, Mop 'N' Glow, what am I going to have to do?"
A thought struck her. It was a horrible, awful, exciting idea. It was the only idea she had short of slapping him again and pulling out all his hair, which wasn't working.
C.C. lay back on the ice, disrupting him and causing him to lift his head and protest, glaring at her through bleary red eyes. Then he froze. C.C. had tossed back her cloak to cover the ice and gathered her skirts around her hips. Here, on an iceberg in the middle of the North Atlantic, C.C. Babcock tried to tempt him to stay awake by spreading herself out for him like a feast.
And feast he did. First, he took her hot, soft mouth under his, sliding his hands under her velvet cloak to gather her to him.
C.C. panted with desire as he pulled her gown aside to kiss her lovely, voluptuous breasts until they were warm and her skin glowed. She reached to kiss his lips, his throat, nibble on his ear. It was with great satisfaction that she pressed her lips to the throbbing pulse in his throat, knowing that the increased heart rate meant he was safe in her capable hands. Faintly, the whir of rescue copters could be heard, but they didn't seem to be coming near.
"Niles, they're coming for us, the rescue copters." She actually felt a little disappointment mixed with her relief.
"Can they see us?"
"Not yet. I'm guessing they're still a few minutes away."
Niles grinned lasciviously down at her. "Save it for later, or make it a quickie?" he asked.
"No contest." C.C. struggled to remove enough clothing to accomplish the deed without actually taking off her gown and cloak lest she get frostbite in strange places.
Niles helped her as best he could, caressing her as he did so.
"Now, Niles, quickly," she begged. She had no idea when this plan to save his life by keeping him warm had become something she needed as desperately as he, but it was. As his lips skimmed over her breasts and her satin-covered stomach, she felt she would die if she didn't have him.
They had little time, but they made the most of it in a hot, furious coupling that combined long-restrained lust, terror, and a desperate will to survive. C.C. hooked her legs around him and whispered her most urgent, erotic thoughts into his ear.
Niles lost himself in her beauty, her softness, her urgent caresses and hot words. "God, Babcock!" he gasped a few minutes later.
When she could speak coherently again, she replied, "God, Babcock, same difference." She wrapped her arms around him and they lay together for the last few moments before she noticed that the whirring noise of a helicopter had gotten louder and a spotlight swept across the water not far from them.
"Quick, they're here! Get your face out of my chest and pull your pants up!" Their moment of peace over, their rescue at hand, C.C. hurriedly rearranged her gown, which was by now sadly torn. She yanked off her shredded stockings and slipped her shoes back on and was standing up waving by the time a still passion-drugged Niles had managed to buckle his belt.
As the helicopter hovered overhead and dropped a ladder, they were hailed by a voice which, in C.C.'s opinion, no one should ever have to hear after having some of the best sex of her entire life. "Ni-yules! Miss Babcock! We came to rescue you -- aaahh!" The sentence was punctuated by a short, nasal shriek
"For God's sake, Fran, get back in the helicopter!" roared Maxwell Sheffield over the sound of the chopper's blades.
Niles and C.C. scrambled aboard. They were immediately attacked with towels, hot drinks, and questions.
"You must be freezing!" Fran gasped as blankets were wrapped around them.
Niles shrugged philosophically. "Oh, we kept warm. Miss Babcock saved my life by keeping me warm and awake after I jumped in the water."
C.C.'s eyes were unreadable as she lifted a cup of tea to her lips. "Niles was safe in a boat when he saw me fall. He jumped out to make sure I got to the iceberg okay.
Niles turned on her. "Babcock, don't you ever give me a scare like that again! I thought I'd lost her when this moron fell back onto the ship just as it was about to take a nosedive." Niles stopped to accept a cup of tea from a rescue worker. "She climbed the railing and waited until the ship tilted and she was higher than the berg, then jumped and came around to the other side to help me up. She was great."
"No, that was later," C.C. replied. She then slapped him, hard. "That's for coming to my rescue, you ass! I was fine until you started to fade on me! How dare you risk your life like that?" C.C.'s voice had risen to a shriek.
"Babcock, you ungrateful slut! I could have died to save your worthless hide, and you hit me!"
"You scared me, servant!"
"Lush!"
"Easy-off!"
"Nice 'n' easy!"
"Tidy bowl man!"
"Bottle blonde!"
"Hate you!"
"Hate you more!"
Niles grabbed C.C. and slammed his mouth roughly down over hers. She tunneled her fingers through his thick hair and pulled him close.
Finally, he said, "Babcock, if you don't leggo my eggo, I'm not going to have any hair left!"
"Ooooooohh!" was C.C.'s incoherent, enraged response as she pulled his mouth back down to hers. Kissing him that hard hurt, but she welcomed the pain as evidence that they were both very much alive despite the odds stacked against them. She, C.C. Babcock, who never lost a fight, had dueled with death this night and won not only her life but that of her cherished worst enemy.
Fran interjected, "Miss Babcock, how exactly did you keep him warm out there?"
C.C. just smirked, so Niles answered for her. "Oh, Miss Babcock has some very unique survival skills. She gives first aid like no one I've ever seen."
Max was looking back and forth between Niles and C.C. in confusion. Then, as realization dawned, he gasped, "Niles, you old dog, you!"
"Thank you, sir," Niles said modestly, then turned to C.C., who'd begun to yawn. "Tired, kitten?"
"Nope, still kicking," she mumbled as her chin began to drop.
He silently pulled her into his arms. "Good night, Miss Babcock."
"Hate you, Niles," she murmured drowsily.
"Hate you more, baby."
The End
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