A/N : Hello, hello ) I rediscovered this fandom about 6 months ago, and since then, I have watched the whole series twice – I had not seen it since my childhood. CC and Niles have always been my two favourite characters, and recently, a Muse has come to shake me from my writing blocks … She insisted I do something about those two, however bad it may be, before she let me work in peace and finish "Nox Turbida" :) So here goes my first Nanny fic.
Disclaimer: I do not own The Nanny or anything related to it, it is the property of its owners and creators: Fran Drescher, Peter Marc Jacobson, CBS, Highschool Sweethearts, etc.
Summary: a collection of works pertaining to CC and Niles
Rating will vary with the different drabbles
Between Cookbooks and Spells
Title:The case of the stolen cheesecake slice
Niles Andrew Brightmore – mostly referred to as "Niiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiles", butler of Maxwell Sheffield, Broadway producer, was in a bit of a conundrum. This month, every time he had baked a cheesecake – peanut butter, strawberry and white chocolate, dark chocolate and salted caramel, brown sugar toffee, or even vanilla with fresh forest fruits, the last slice, the one he always kept for himself, safely hidden behind rows and rows of junk food, had disappeared.
The butler and self-appointed missing cheesecake PI, could go so far as to say that the baked good had been stolen and eaten by a most cunning sub-zero burglar of the household. Indeed, the culprit knew his diversion tactics, his habits - eating and otherwise, and could work around his schedule. They also had to have an easy access to the kitchen and be familiar with the sub-zero's organisation.
There were only four possible suspects, all female. Mrs Sheffield, former nanny and serial junk food eater, known to eat cheesecakes and Ben & Jerry's straight from the plate or the carton when emotional. Miss Grace Sheffield, a young Freud-oriented mind, who resorted to sweets when she needed a happy boost. Mrs Sylvia Fine, Mrs Sheffield's mother, who could be seen continuously eating from dawn to dusk. Although the lady chose quantity over quality, Niles' cheesecakes were certainly a favourite among the household, and thus of Sylvia. And Miss C. C. Babcock, whose elusive first name was a mystery Niles himself had finally resolved only a year before. She was Mr Sheffield's demanding and efficient business partner, and although Niles would never admit it aloud, a woman whose good looks rivalled only with her brains. There was a merry war between them – jokes, name calling, pranks and the like, and the Wicked Witch of the Upper East Side – as he liked to call her – had been known to indulge in his bakes. He knew she found them divine, although she would never admit it.
The remaining members of the household, Mr Sheffield, Master Brighton Sheffield and Miss Margaret Sheffield, never cared for more than one slice, if they did eat the dessert, cheesecake not being their favourite. In his bad luck, Niles could count himself lucky that the missing goods were not his death by chocolate cake, or he would never be able to eliminate any of the suspects.
When the first theft occurred, Niles had simply put it on Mrs Fine's propensity to quickly smell food and find it. However, for the last three had happened when Sylvia Fine was away on holiday in Florida. There was no way she was the cheesecake thief. Then, half amused, half annoyed, he had put it on Mrs Sheffield or Miss Grace's need for an emotional pick me up. But they would not have passed up on the diversions, would they? Unless they had had a craving for his cheesecake that had not been appeased by dessert… And as for Miss Babcock… well, most of the time, he was not sure what was going on in that lovely head of hers. If this was a prank, he could not see its end. If this was an indulgence, he could not see the need for stealing: although he did tease her mercilessly on her appearance, she was back to her ideal weight and was no longer that bothered by his remarks.
Niles, member of the famous Butlers Association, master in law, was positively stymied. He could not seem to be able to catch the fiendish cake eater, and he was growing frustrated cheesecake by cheesecake. So far, he had booby trapped the kitchen, but had only managed to get himself caught. He had also stayed up late, hidden in a cosy corner of his pantry, to catch the thief in flagrante delicto. He had been so tired of a day of games with Miss Babcock, however, that he had ended up asleep in his armchair. He had tried to discern the fragrance left by the conniving female, but no sniff had given him ample enough material to find out who it was.
This time, he had resolved to wait up, with a thermos full of good coffee, hidden in a dark and uncomfortable corner of the kitchen. The cheesecake slice was waiting peacefully in the sub-zero for the revealing bite. He checked the time: 10:23 pm. He waited, and waited, and waited again. No one came. Hoping that the cheesecake stealer had given up, he opened the door of the frozen wonderland and looked for his slice. He could feel himself salivating at the idea of devouring this one: it was a special recipe that he had created specially to entice the guilty taste buds, and he was sure that it was a piece of paradise.
"Nooooooooooooooooooooo" he moaned. The burglar had foiled him again! And he had taken great care not to be away from the kitchen after putting the slice in its place… He tried to recall who he had seen coming and going from his domain, but had to forfeit when he felt his head becoming woozy from the lack of sleep. It was only when his head hit the pillow that he remembered the faint scent of Chanel #5 that had lingered near the sub-zero after he had gone to the loo that one time between his guards. "So, witch, you ARE the cheesecake burglar" he thought, as he started to dream about ways to unmask her.
The following morning, as Miss Babcock took her place at the breakfast table, he did not bring her the usual eggs, sausage and toast, but another slice of cheesecake. Under the mystified gaze of the Sheffields, she took a bite and savoured it, closing her eyes to get the full experience. Knowing fully well that he had identified her as the cheesecake thief who had given him such frustration the past month, she could not help a cheeky commentary:
"Well, Butler Boy, what can I say? I do enjoy sampling your goods"
So, any thoughts? :)