#I'm meant to be spending my lunch break working on this rather than on tumblr but uh hmmm

[anderstrevelyan]

meet-cute incoming:

[porrokin]

“SAINTS BEFORE SIXTH”

i have actually never posted anything like this on my tumblr - i'm kinda nervous ngl.

below you can find the blurb and entire first chapter of the fantasy novel i'm writing! 🤎 i'm so incredibly proud and wanted to share it with you :)

Andy was almost an adult now, not once in the past decade had she been entirely sober. This hadn't been a choice of her own; she didn't get many of those anymore after becoming a permanent resident in the Institute. She'd been permanently deprived of direct sunlight ever since her sixth birthday, on December 30th.

Meanwhile, her best friend claims to speak with his deceased parents and the Keepers found her newest ally before she did. They've been forcing him to use his powers for their selfish winnings, cruel violations like this could go unseen since the Warden disappeared.

Escaping the Keepers is one thing; they're still worlds apart from getting home - considering there's anything to come back to in the first place.

story : all rights reserved ; @porrokin

don't copy or claim this in any way; it is my work and belongs entirely to me.

THE ENTIRE FIRST CHAPTER IS POSTED BELOW !

-

Never once during the past decade had Andy been entirely sober, that fact would, however, become even more disturbing when you considered she was barely eighteen years old. It hadn't been a conscious choice, at least not one of her own.

Ever since her sixth birthday - almost precisely twelve years ago - Keepers had taken the freedom of making decisions away from her. What she ate, where she slept, who she talked to, and whether or not she took her meds four times per day - which she did, much to her disliking.

The Keepers no longer informed Andy of their plans for her, they used to back when she was still enrolled in the program. Christiano was, though she wasn't sure if she always believed him when he talked about what he did during those three hours every Tuesday, Wednesday, and Sunday. Nine hours each week, that's how much time they did want to spend with her roommate. She was on her own, once again.

The line scurried along. Andy hesitantly followed as she took in the newly arrived smell of potatoes and spinach. Lunch must start soon, meaning the clock could say 12:55 am anytime now. The rest of the world outside was sleeping, in contrast to this place - heavily lit by beaming, quietly zooming tubes. The grey ceiling was covered in them, leaving nothing to go by without catching the eye of at least one Keeper. Andy didn't know why they lived during the night, rather than when the sun could cast real and natural light into the long, empty hallways. Probably to keep the public from asking much-needed questions about this place, or perhaps they did know but couldn't care enough.

Another name was called out - not hers. The girl in front of the line had been injected, she swiftly turned around and started walking in against the direction of the line. Back to her room, she went, another day of the same, mundane routine. Day after day, twelve years before you got away.

Long ginger hair draped over her slim shoulders, curls bouncing up slightly with every step she took. Her face looked tense; not unusual for this place, but it was rather strange to see from this girl. When their eyes met, Andy was surprised to see an almost luminescent light grey shade. The girl's eyes were once green but now reminded her of the colour of freshly polished silverware reflecting in the light.

As she walked past her spot in line, electricity seemed to flow through Andy's spine; causing her entire body to shiver. Her eyebrows shaped themselves into a slight frown, for a moment she glanced behind her to look at this girl for an extra second. She wasn't allowed to speak to anyone in white but her roommate, though by now she'd been here long enough to recognize who slept in the same hallway and who didn't.

A loud crackling sound disrupted the silence, a moment later the automated voice began to talk through the speakers. Same time every day, the same voice at exactly five minutes before 1 am. 'Ten minutes before lunchtime, those who have not yet received their injections will be expected back in Hallway 162B in exactly 45 minutes'.

In a matter of seconds, their plan was about to be set in motion.

Right away, rummaging sounds rose from the back of the line. 'I need Andy!', a familiar voice shakily called out. 'My roommate, Andy Donahue!'

'Not up to you, get back in line or I'll make you.' Andy recognized his voice as the heavier Keeper with the bushy, unmanaged moustache. He sounded calm, he'd been quick to tase someone in the past and would most likely have his beefy fingers wrapped around the device already.

She raised her hand and started walking towards the back of the line, her body shaking entirely as if it was freezing and she walked into the cold without any clothes on her limbs.

Without expecting it, she was forcefully yanked back from behind. Before Andy even had time to blink, her arms were locked firmly behind her back, wrists pushing hard against her spine.

'You too, now? Don't think you're an exception to the rules.' Captain Keeper; not because he's the leader, but he sure did like trying to boss the others around. She didn't answer him right away but rather tried to stretch her body and spot Christiano in the hallway. She couldn't.

'I'm his roommate, that's Irvine. Sometimes he freaks out in the presence of many people-' A sweaty hand roughly pulled her head back by her hair, causing her to face the ceiling. Her body alarmed her of the pain this caused to her neck. The bright lights made her eyes tear and she struggled to swallow.

'Did I tell you to open your mouth?' Clammy Hands scoffed.

She attempted to reason with him: 'Let me take him to our room so he can calm down.'

'Get back in line. Otherwise, I'll make sure you don't get out of solitary until snow melts.'

She managed to free her arm from his clammy grasp. 'I can ensure you-'

He reached for her, his face caught between anger and frustration. He was getting impatient, little was he aware that this was exactly Andy's will. She stumbled backwards to avoid him this time, successfully, both of them were surprised by it.

'Christiano will throw up. Do you want that to happen when..' She ever so slightly raised her chin, dramatically pausing for a moment as she raised her boney finger.

Andy continued. 'About six hundred kids still need their injections in this hallway? That seems to be a big inconvenience — if I am allowed to voice my opinion.'

'Sir.' she added. The encounter would surely have been more entertaining would her head not be pounding, the shakiness of her knees increasing by the second. She knew her body needed the meds she managed to rid this morning - she would deny this dependence at any cost if someone were to ask.

He sighed and resultantly nodded in Christiano's direction. 'Go. I'll know where to find you in five minutes.'

She did as told, anxiously searching the hallway for her roommate. So far everything was going just as she so meticulously planned; she was okay.

By now she imagined the time creeping closer to 1:00 am, breaks for the Administration would start in ten minutes; she only needed three. The two minutes after that meant for racing back to their room, in case Captain Keeper was indeed determined to stick to his earlier promise.

Something as cold as ice grabbed her hand, effortlessly disrupting her thoughts. Chocolate brown eyes met hers, a feeling of relief washed over Andy's body. Squeezing his hand, they swiftly disappeared behind the corner at the end of the hallway.

'You got the key?' Andy hushed her voice. Administration breakrooms were still in the same hallway as their offices. She wondered whether they got as little sunlight as the kids here did.

'I do. Traded my last blanket for 15 minutes of borrowing the thing, this place leaks of greedy bastards.' He grinned, accentuating his sharp facial structure.

'If you're right about the Bidding we'll be out of here soon enough anyway.'

'I am right.'

'I believe you.' She extended her hand for him to hand her the key. 'I want to prepare for everything, that's all.'

While Andy gained access to Ad 348H, Christiano leaned nonchalantly against the drinking fountain, his finger push-ready on the button. If she caught the sound of water running, she needed to hide. Christiano would have to sneak her back out after their lunchtime. Not the desired option, as this would be too close for comfort with the Administration break ending at the same time.

Thanks to Christiano's contacts she knew immediately which cabinet to find; about twenty seconds had passed already. Her hands rummaged through the several files and envelopes, one of the many drawers containing surnames with "D" as their starting letter.

She gasped audibly when finally skimming across her own, "Andy Donahue" it said. As she attempted to pull it out, the cardboard folder ripped on one end; the contents spilling out like jelly beans at an overwhelmingly disorganized children's party.

She cursed to herself as she attempted to fish for whatever just got lost within the mass amount of documents and belongings. A soft texture brushed against her finger and with some effort, she managed to grab onto it.

Her journal! Andy's heart skipped a beat, who knew they would've collected this in here after confiscating it years ago. Without hesitation she dropped it into the neck of her jacket, holding it against her stomach with her other hand. What else did she need? Her file was too big to ever sneak out in its entirety and to take this heavy notebook was already a reach.

A loud cough echoed into the room as if she had her fingers in her ears this whole time to block out the noise. Finally, the sound of splashing water seemed to reach her. She slammed the cabinet shut, somehow getting her black sleeve stuck in the process. No, no, this was bad - this was so awfully bad.

While securing the journal with her other arm she put her body up against the heavy metal cabinet and made a desperate attempt at freeing herself from its hold.

'Yes!', slightly too loud.

Within a moment she smoothly turned around, slamming herself against something and stumbling onto the cold concrete flooring.

'We really don't have time anymore, why didn't you come out when I signalled for you?', Christiano grabbed her free arm and hurriedly pulled Andy back up on her feet.

'I'm sorry!'

She followed right behind him, both came to a sudden stop once they'd realized what was waiting behind the walls of Ad 348H. At least six Keepers surrounded them in the hallway, pointing that same amount of stun batons in their direction.

Captain Clammy Hands was the one to break the silence: "Such a shame, Donahue."

-

© PHOTOGRAPHY : @/k_reckd [ TWITTER ]

to read more, check out my story on wattpad @/porrokin [ same as on tumblr ]

CREDIT WHERE IT IS DUE ; THE COVER

© PHOTO - MODEL : @/iiphugs [ TWITTER ]

[spectralarchers]

You talked about this with an anon a few days ago I believe and I have to say I'm indeed impressed of how you've grown as a person those last years. I'm also impressed of how many things you do in your life and how many things you are interested in. How do you even do it ? Everytime I want to do something, I end up just spending my time on my computer doing nothing all day, and that goes for my homeworks, internship research and mémoire too. You have any advice ?

Hi my dove!

I have to admit that I do spend a lot of time staring at my computer screen and at my phone’s screen. These last couple of months have been quite intense for me, since I started my internship, because I’ve had my internship, my one class a week, my student job and my volunteer job, all of which kind of merges together when I try to write fic (NaNoWriMo), do edits, work on cosplay and what else have yous...

To be quite honest, I don’t have any usable advice, other than telling you what I do in order to try and get through all the tasks I need to get through in the day - and perhaps, telling you that maybe having 60+ hour weeks for more than four months in a row is a bit much.

I always write down a list of things I’ve done in the day when I am having dinner and/or am about to head to bed. It can be ‘done laundry, folded clothes, showered, put cutlery and plates in dishwasher, read one text, saw a movie and went to the grocery store’ because all of those things in themselves aren’t, well, “proper things” but they are when you put them together.

After I’d done this a while, I realized that I had a list inside my brain all the time, and if I could just tick off 4 things in a day, I’d be satisfied - it could be to wash my clothes, shave my legs (which also meant showering), prepare a text for Uni, and walk home from my internship. 

It’s also a lot of self-control - when I’m at my internship, that’s all I do. I don’t sit around on Facebook, staring at my phone, because I know they’re expecting me to do my job and to do it well - I may be overperforming at 120% of what is expected of me, because I am hoping to impress them enough to be offered a position there when I have finished my thesis, but that’s basically it.

When I’m working on Uni things, I also don’t look at my phone. It helps that I have it on completely silent 24/7 - it’s never on vibrate or on sound. So, I don’t know if someone is calling me unless I a) have my phone in my hand when the call goes through or b) I see they’ve tried to call and left (or not) a message. You’d be surprised at how few calls I’ve missed because of that specific thing. 

It stems from the fact that having my phone vibrate for every single notification all the time gave me a whole lot of anxiety a couple of years ago - WhatsApp, Messenger, Twitter, Tumblr, e-mail, text, Whatsapp, Snapchat, Tumblr, Messenger, e-mail, e-mail, text from the store, e-mail, e-mail,... It was just non stop, so I turned it off. I still check my phone once every three minutes, but if it’s a notification I can ignore for now (someone on Whatsapp asking me how my day is, for example), I wait until lunch or until I have a bathroom break to reply to it.

It’s also how I did it with NaNo - do word sprints. Except here, it’s more like concentration sprints. Write your article, then spend five minutes goofing around on tumblr. 

In the morning, too, I’ve made it a habit to unlock my phone when I go to the bathroom to pee, first thing in the morning, and instead of spending 15 minutes in bed checking my calendar/mail/instagram/whatnot, I spend maybe 5 minutes going through it while I do my thing, and then I get on with my day. I also optimize phone usage while I’m on public transport - scroll away while you’re in the bus, but stop scrolling when you’re at work / in class.

My student job is being behind a counter in a busy shop, so I don’t have time at all to goof around on my phone, which means I get shit done there too, but it’s retail, so you reach a point where there’s nothing left for you to learn, so you just go on auto-mode.

I’m juggling a lot of things at once right now - I’m supposed to start writing on my thesis, but I still haven’t finished my internship and my one class yet (lol, don’t ask), so I’m optimizing all of my time so I can get at least 7 hours of sleep per night, and get enough tasks done in a day to keep me afloat - and, when I can, I sit on the couch, connect my phone to the ChromeCast and watch a bunch of silly Vine compilations or other equally silly videos for half an hour, and then I go to bed.

My only, like, real life advice I can ever give you is: don’t ever think that you’re doing yourself a favor by staying up until 5 am, UNLESS YOUR BODY (AND PSYCHE) CAN HANDLE IT. I know my brain can’t, so I’d rather go to bed at 9 pm, and get up at 5 am to finish something, instead of doing it the other way around. 

Make sure you get enough sleep when you can. Socialize when you can - don’t lock yourself away from others because you’re busy. You’re not too busy to grab a cup of coffee or meet up with someone at Uni after class.

Eat. Like, for real. Even if it’s muesli with milk and a banana for dinner, it’s fuel for your body. You only had garlic bread in the freezer and you were too tired/busy to make proper food? Eat those garlic bread. Or cheetos. Or donuts. Or salad. Or- you get the point. Just get SOMETHING into your body. You can always go to the gym or walk it off when you’re not stressed anymore.

Drink - if you haven’t filled your water bottle three times in a day, you haven’t had enough water today. (Assuming you have a 0,5 l bottle, like me). If you think filling it twice is enough, you’re wrong. If you’ve only had soda during the day, you need to drink at least one large glass of water - trust me.

Remember that it’s okay to cry because you’re stressed - it took me a while to remember this, but your body and mind have limits. Even if you do 60+ hours, remember that it’s okay to break down at one point and be like ‘fuck this’. If you have to skip reading some texts for Uni, then just read the conclusion of the text instead. If you have something to hand in at work, either ask for an extension, or hand in something that’s finished but not perfect instead - sometimes they’ll have other things to correct (commas, spellings, etc.) and when you get to do the second draft, you’ll get to edit some of those other things you didn’t get the time to do first time around.

And last: never, ever, ever, blame yourself for not managing to do as much with your 24 hours as others. Some only need 3 hours of sleep to function, others need 9. Some manage to get up at fuck’o’clock in the morning to go to the gym, workout, go to work, go to some extra-curricular activity, make homegrown chicken pasta noodle salads with their homebaked bread, and then watch a documentary about how clever they are, all in one single day. Others will sit all day on the couch and watch a documentary on Netflix about polar bears while eating cheetos, maybe also procrastinating and making mentals notes about that paper that’s due in a week.

All are valid. 

You can make it count. All that matters is that you don’t give up. 

Also: my background on my phone is this picture: 

And I suggest all of these ones to keep you motivated: 

(All these pictures are from a photopost that crossed my dash months ago on tumblr, if you know the owner/artist, PLEASE let me know so I can credit them!)

I hope this all helped, my little darling

[kassandra-lorelei]

"Just because I'm heartless doesn't mean I don't like chocolate." I know I just asked for a oneshot recently, but I saw this one on a Tumblr prompt blog I follow and it cracked me up because I instantly thought of C.C. I can just see her snarky, sassy self saying this to Niles after some zinger war or something. Ha ha. I know you're working on other stuff, so whenever you get to it I'd love to see what you come up with! ❤️

Here we are, my friend! I am so sorry this took so long, but I’ve been under some stress recently and I’ve had to take my time getting this done

For that Anon waiting for the other prompt I have, I promise you will have it soon, and for everyone waiting on the next chapter of Personal Guardian Demon, I will be getting on it soon as well

@missbabcocks1 @holomoriarty

Valentine’s Day might not have been a cause for celebrationto Niles, given his apparent permanent bachelor status, but that didn’t mean hegot to be away from it. In an ideal world, he would’ve asked for (and gotten) aday off so that he could go out somewhere and perhaps blend in with every otherface in the crowd. In the mansion, he stuck out like a sore thumb – Mr and MrsSheffield would obviously have a romantic meal that evening, Miss Margaret hadgone out with her boyfriend, Master Brighton kept saying he was meeting a girland would be out all day (though he had been sketchy on the details, such asthe girl’s name, how they’d met, where they were going, etc), and Miss Grace wasgoing to the movies with a group of her friends.

Depressingly, even Miss Babcock had managed to get herself adinner date that night. Some businessman or other, as handsome as he was richand twice as charming, no doubt. And that was going to be a lovely thought hismind would conjure up later, when he’d finished washing up after Mr and MrsSheffield’s romantic meal and was busy tucking into the large amount of chocolatethat he’d bought and stashed away in the kitchen for safekeeping.

Of course, he’d teased the producer when she’d told MrSheffield about her plans, just a few days before. It had just been so easy to notethat there was emphasis on “scare” in the phrase “scare up a date”. She hadthen retorted that at least she’d have a date, which might not have been thebest or funniest zinger she’d ever come up with, but in the coldfourteenth-of-February morning light, it felt like a slap in the face.

He’d managed to keep it to himself for the first few hoursof the day. He’d even tried to be in keeping with the Valentine’s theme bycooking the family heart-shaped strawberry pancakes for breakfast and servinghot chocolate to go with it.

But underneath the longer time went on, the more thepleasant exterior felt like what it was – a façade. It was a relief when thefamily dispersed for the time being, the children going off by themselves, MrSheffield and Miss Babcock heading to the office to begin the work day, and MrsSheffield going out shopping “for later”. Niles didn’t bother asking what she wasgoing to buy, it was going to be obvious the next day, when Mr Sheffield camedownstairs with a ridiculous smile on his face.

He must’ve been wallowing in his own misery over the factthat he’d come downstairs the next day to a sink full of dishes and theknowledge that he had to make breakfast for a family of five that wasn’t evenhis, because before he knew it, a hand was being waved his face and he was backin the office.

He’d originally gone in there to do some tidying, and losttrack of the time in thinking. It was just his luck that Miss Babcock happenedto be watching at the same time.

She was clearly delighted to have caught him off-guard aswell, “What’s the matter, Niles? Forget what you came over here for?”

Niles felt a small pang of irritation, which quickly turnedinto a lingering sense of annoyance. Of course she was happy – she knew she hadthe upper hand in every category, as things currently stood. He’d been the onenot paying attention, and no doubt at any moment she’d remind him of the eveninghe had to look forward to.

Alone, whilst she was out somewhere with her businessman,having the time of her life.

He might not have been in the mood for zingers, but one cameanyway.

“I haven’t quite made it to that level of mental deteriorationyet,” he replied drily. “I’m not your age.”

Miss Babcock was quite prepared for the challenge, “I’m gladyou agree that I’m not ancient, unlike certain people in this room!”

“Oh, would you two give it a rest just for today?” Maxwellstepped in from his seated position at his desk before Niles could retort. TheBritish producer had a pink box in his hands, which he opened and pushed acrossthe desk towards them. “I’d much rather have a pleasant Valentine’s Day, ifit’s all the same to you. Fran gifted me these just before she left thismorning – come and have a chocolate, and let’s all get back to work.”

Niles went over, peering into the box. Of course each andevery single chocolate was heart-shaped, he thought to himself bitterly.Perfect for two lovers to feed each other whilst locked in an intimate embrace.

Two lovers, like Miss Babcock and her oh-so-perfect date.

And, without even thinking about it, another insult made itsway from his heart to his mind, and bypassed any kind of filter to come straightfrom his mouth.

“I hope your date tonight remembers chocolates like these,”he told her. “At this rate, it’s the only way you’ll ever have a heart in you.”

The reaction from Maxwell was (surprisingly) loud andimmediate.

“Niles!” the British producer cried, looking back and forthbetween his butler and his business associate. “I told you to pack it in! Whatthe Devil’s gotten into you, Old Man?!”

Niles expected there to be a similar reaction from MissBabcock at any moment – for a grin to appear on her ruby red lips where she wasso pleased their employer had taken her side, and then a smug comment about howyou just couldn’t get the help these days, and if you could, you couldn’t getthe help to shut up.

But those things didn’t happen. Instead, the producer juststood there with neither a smile nor a smart word. She didn’t look angry,either.

In actual fact, Niles could have sworn that she looked upset(or…even hurt?), even if she was trying to hide it.

She gestured lightly to the stack of papers she’d been goingthrough before, abandoned on the green loveseat, “Maxwell, those contracts arefinished. I’m gonna take a long lunch break.”

Without another word, she turned and left the office.

After being reprimanded by Maxwell for not doing as he wastold and leaving the zingers aside for a while, Niles was allowed to carry onwith his work. But the butler couldn’t fully bring himself to do anything ofany actual worth – and that time, it had nothing to do with his perpetualloneliness.

Nothing to do with that, and everything to do with guilt. Hereally and truly hadn’t meant to say something quite so awful – it had justslipped out! He’d just been so angry and upset that she had a…well, he wasangry and upset that he didn’t have anyone to spend either today, or the restof his life, with.

The feeling of guilt was only exacerbated when he finallymade his way into the kitchen, and spotted Miss Babcock at the table. She wassurrounded by the stash of chocolate he’d bought for himself, more than half ofit opened and a lot of it missing.

He really had hurt her, hadn’t he? She’d imagined that she’dbe left alone (where she could bear her emotions in private) and had gonethrough the cupboards for comfort food.

Niles took a hesitant step towards her, “Miss Babcock, I-”

The producer lifted one hand in a halting fashion.

“Save it, Niles,” she nearly snapped, using her free handsto crumple up an empty wrapper and drop it on the table with the rest. “I don’twanna hear your next pithy little remark. You can have this round.”

She…thought this was all part of their usual routine? Thathe was trying to deliberately make her feel this way, because part of the gamewas to make her upset? That wasn’t the way it was supposed to play out, andthey both knew it! Even without talking about it, they knew they enjoyed thewordplay and the challenge that the other provided.

What he’d said had been too much, and it hadn’t come from agood place.

He approached the table sombrely, hoping that he could offerher an apology. It would be a first, most likely, but it was nonetheless needed.

She picked up another chocolate bar and eyed himsuspiciously as he came over, “What? No victory dance, or is that too muchexercise for that ancient carcass of yours?”

Pursing his lips some, Niles tried to ignore the remark.

“I’m not here to try and argue with you,” he said, turninghis eyes to the mess on the table. “Although some others might, if they caughtyou with their own private stash. Or what’s left of it, rather…”

Miss Babcock broke off a piece, “Well, just because I’mheartless doesn’t mean I don’t like chocolate.”

Niles sighed, thinking that he could kick himself.

“…I really didn’t mean to be so callous, you know.”

The producer rolled her eyes, words only muffled a little bythe chocolate she’d popped into her mouth, “Yeah, right!”

“I’m telling you the truth!” he insisted in return.

Miss Babcock turned more in her chair, looking at himseriously, “What makes you think I’m gonna believe that? Is it the years ofinsults, the physical pranks, or the way you toy with my mental health like acat with a yarn ball?”

Niles returned her look, leaning over towards her slightly, “Howabout the fact that you know if I was going to try and turn this into a joke, Iwould have done so by now?”

It was, truly, a last resort. The two of them never talkedabout the fact that they knew each other better than anyone else – knew whatdirection the other would take a verbal sparring session, their likes anddislikes in a variety of subjects, from food to people…

They knew how far each would take something like this, andwhen they would stop. And she knew that he would have done more than he had sofar, if he intended to continue.

She had to accept it, even if she was upset, “Alright,fine.”

Not feeling much better, but now at least satisfied that shewas willing to listen to him, Niles hesitantly took the seat next to her. Hedid it a little more confidently once it became apparent that she wasn’t goingto stop him.

But before he could try to apologise again, the producerspoke up.

“And for the record, I don’t even have a date tonight,” she angrilyunwrapped another chocolate. “But before you say anything, no, I did not makeup the one I had before.”

Niles felt surprise bubble up inside him. So, they were bothspending Valentine’s Day by themselves – suddenly, it made sense that she hadn’tmocked his lack of a date (or the fact that he had to work to make someone else’sday special) all morning.

And it made even more sense as to why his insult had stungher so deeply. Behind those walls she put around herself, Niles knew she wouldbe feeling hurt and vulnerable. His tactless words were probably contributing tothat, and it was making him feel awful.

He shifted in his seat, “…If you don’t mind my asking, whathappened?”

“Damned if I know,” she bit into her chocolate, and it oozedcaramel. “You know, I really thought it was all going great, and then all of asudden, he calls me up and says he has to cancel on me!”

Niles blinked, “Was he ill?”

Miss Babcock looked at him, “What do you think, Niles?”

The expression on her face was all he needed to understandwhat had gone on, and he wanted to kick himself again for not realising before.

“Oh,” he bit back a frown and picked up a chocolate forhimself. “I see. There was clearly an emergency then. Somebody somewhere requireda giant tool.”

And that was when he noticed Miss Babcock finally crack asmile – the crinkled kind that told him she was trying not to laugh.

But Niles wasn’t going to be deterred. After the time she’dhad, he actually felt that the producer needed to laugh a little. So, (between eatingthe chocolates they’d apparently silently sort-of agreed to share) he keptgoing, tossing insults and sharp remarks at the man who’d ditched her on a daythat was supposed to be about love and togetherness.

He hoped it made up for his behaviour at least a little, andfor the fact that the only chocolate she’d had hadn’t been a gift, she had nodate tonight to look forward to, and no flower bouquets to admire.

And eventually, she did laugh. It was like music when ithappened, and Niles felt his chest inflate a little with pride.

He had cheered her up, to some extent.

Her bad feeling hadn’t entirely gone away, though.

She lowered another empty wrapper to the table, twisting it inbetween her fingers, “Well, jerk or not, he clearly had a better offer elsewhere!”

Niles cocked his head to one side, “A better offer thanyou?”

The producer huffed a sardonic laugh out through her nose,her eyes focused on the table.

“Not hard to find, right?”

Niles felt a wave of sadness come over him at that. MissBabcock truly did underestimate herself, when there was no reason.

And, after the time they’d spent just enjoying the chocolateand discussing the ways in which her non-date could go screw himself, he wasfeeling…well, rather encouraged.

“No…I’d say it’s more…impossible.”

It caught the producer off-guard, “What?”

Suddenly the encouragement dimmed a little, and tensiongripped at his heart. But he knew he had to go on – he couldn’t suddenly decidenot to say anything; she’d never let him live it down if he did.

He just had to be tactful about it, that was all.

So, he began, “Well, who wouldn’t ask you to be their dateon Valentine’s Day? The witty conversation, probably a very carefully selectedbottle of wine, and then dancing well into the night…it sounds like the bestoffer a man could receive, to me.”

There was silence for an uncomfortably long amount of time afterwards.But, eventually, the producer leaned back in her chair.

“Do I smell scotch on your breath?” she asked, gesturing athim. “I’m getting flashbacks to Maxwell and Nanny Fine’s wedding day.”

Niles rolled his eyes, “I haven’t been imbibing, Babs – I doactually happen to think that you make better company than most.”

There was another, shorter silence before the produceranswered.

“That doesn’t prove to me that you’re not hammered, you know,”she said. Then she let a ghost of a smile appear. “But…thanks anyway, I guess.”

Niles had to be satisfied with that. He felt it was time toget back into familiar territory, for the time being.

He smiled back at her, “Well, I’m not trying to kick the dogwhile she’s down, I’m trying to bring her back up.”

Miss Babcock’s eyebrow raised, a hint of a smirk playingabout her features, “And you think another zinger is the right way to go aboutthat, huh?”

The butler grinned lopsidedly in return, “Throw me a bone, Ialready let you almost entirely demolish my chocolate supplies.”

The producer appeared to think about this, before replying.

“Well, you do put the “dog” in “dogsbody”, so alright,” shesaid. She then reached down to her bag, which was at her feet, and pulled outher purse. “And here. All the chocolate’s gonna be half-price tomorrow; you canrestock your little stash and not have to worry about breaking a buck!”

She pulled out a small wad of notes, and tossed it onto his sideof the table.

Niles looked at it for a few seconds, not thinking about chocolatelike she must have assumed he would be. A plan was rapidly forming in his head,and he liked it far better than eating treats alone in his room, discreetlyshedding a tear or two at the movie he’d put on the television, and throwingdiscarded wrappers at the screen if he got annoyed at the lead couple.

He then looked up at the producer, “I’d tell you to keep it,if I didn’t have a better idea.”

That seemed to pique Miss Babcock’s interest, “Oh?”

“You are on your break, and I have no chores left untiltonight,” he said. “I might not be able to offer you dinner, but how does aValentine’s Day lunch sound?”

Miss Babcock appeared to think about it for a moment, before looking amused.

“Offering to pay for a meal with money that I gave you,” she said. “You certainly know how to turn a girl’s head, ScrubbingBubbles!”

“I wouldn’t use it to pay for a meal!” Niles protested,before suddenly thinking of something and leaning his elbow on the table withhis head propped up in his hand. “Although, interestingly enough, I’m nothearing you say no…”

Miss Babcock’s retort was swift, “Well, I suppose I have noother choice but to accept, unless I want to look like a sad sack who couldn’teven get a date on Valentine’s Day.”

“Was that another dig at my inability to get a date?” thebutler asked, dropping his last chocolate wrapper on the small pile on thetable.

“You see it however you want, Hazel,” Miss Babcock replied,pushing her chair out to get up. “Are we going, or not?”

Niles began to smile again, and joined her on his feet, “Wemost certainly are.”

They both began to make their way towards the door, butbefore Niles left he remembered to pick up the money Miss Babcock had left forhim on the table.

He’d use his own money to pay for the food, and they’d bothjust had enough chocolate to last them an entire week, let alone a day, butthere was still one thing that was missing.

He wasn’t about to ruin the (awfully bold) Valentine’s Daysurprise by telling her, but earlier that day he’d seen a man on the cornerselling flowers.