This story is continuation for "The Cradle Robbers". I couldn't resist after seeing CC check out Niles in an earlier kitchen scene.
by
Sara Weber
(thersites3@hotmail.com)
“Still waiting for Mr. Sheffield?” Niles set the silver tray down on the patio table and held out a steaming cup of ‘herbal’ tea to Miss Babcock. She didn’t move from her position, her chin towards her chest, her black sunglasses covering up whatever was in her eyes. Niles waited for her answer so he could use one of the come backs he had instantaneously formulated for every conceivable response she could give. But she was silent. Then she snored. Niles blinked, then chuckled slightly. He bent over and gently slid her sunglasses off her face, laying them on the patio table. He watched her tenderly for a moment, then used the fingers of his right hand to brush an errant strand of hair, shining flaxen and gold in the bright afternoon light, behind her ear. He noticed with some concern that the top of her ear was growing pink—she needed to get out of the sun. He leaned closer and squeezed her arms just below the shoulder.
“Miss Babcock,” he watched for her eyes to flicker open. They didn’t. “Miss Babcock!” He shook her slightly.
“Oh…Niles???” Her voice was distant, and then she was asleep again. Niles felt the bitter pang of his conscience—he shouldn’t have been giving her so much caffeine when he knew she was having trouble sleeping. She hadn’t slept in three days, she had said. He rubbed the fabric of her sleeves between his fingers subconsciously and made his decision.
“Come on, Miss Babcock.” Niles pulled her to her feet—she fell drowsily against his chest, and he wrapped an arm around her. He used his other arm to swing her feet into the air, lifting her into his arms. In her sleep, C.C. snuggled into his shoulder, wrapping her arms around his neck. He felt a curious exhilaration in his chest and couldn’t help the silly smile that crept into his features. He carried her through the glass doors into the office and was about to deposit her on her love seat, but decided the couch in the living room would be much more comfortable as she didn’t seem ready to wake up any time soon. He stepped down into the room and, carefully avoiding collisions with Mr. Sheffield’s expensive collection of dust-collectors, managed to make his way to the couch. He spun around with his back to the TV and set her gently down on the cushions, extricating himself from her clinging arms and propping her head up with a throw pillow.
He stayed kneeling, for a moment, smiling fondly at her relaxed, sleeping form, then pressed a gentle kiss to her nearest hand and left her to her sleep.
The End
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