A/N: Written in memory of my favorite director/writer, Nora Ephron who literally changed my life when she wrote/directed Sleepless in Seattle. She will be forever missed.

"Good morning, Daphne."

Daphne smiled at her boss as she entered the living room.

"Good morning, Dr. Crane. Mr. Crane."

Martin looked up from his newspaper and grumbled.

"Well it looks like someone is in a bad mood this morning." Daphne noted.

But Frasier only chuckled. "Don't mind him. He's probably just mad because the Mariners lost another game."

Meanwhile, Martin's eyes were glued to the Sports page of the Seattle Times. "I told them not to trade Marsetti for that lowlife Gazba from the Braves, but do they listen to me? No!"

Frasier shook his head in annoyance. "Well Dad, perhaps if you'd called them directly instead of yelling at the television set, they would have listened!"

"Well, it's too damn late now! The season is toast as far as I'm concerned!"

"They should be used to that, then." Frasier quipped. "But speaking of toast, I'm starving! Daphne, what's for breakfast?"

"How about pancakes? They'll be ready in a few minutes. In the meantime, here's your coffee."

"Thank you, Daphne." Frasier said when she handed him the cup. He took a sip and turned to his father.

"Hand me the Arts and Entertainment section will you, Dad?"

"Oh geez, what is it this time? One of your damn operas?"

Frasier couldn't hide his irritation toward his father.

"Yes, Dad. One of my damn operas! I suppose you'd be happier if I was looking for the score of the latest sporting event!"

Annoyed, Martin thrust the paper at his son. "Here!"
Frasier rolled his eyes. "Thank you."

As casually as possible, Frasier opened the paper and began to read.

"Dear God, how dare they give Carmen such a terrible review? It's an absolute masterpiece! Niles and I sat in the front row with tears in our eyes!"

"I can see why." Martin said; the sarcasm heavy in his voice.

"Dad, just... read your sports page, okay?"

"Why don't you both keep quiet and read your paper?" Daphne yelled, trying to ignore the tension headache that was forming behind her eyes.

It was bad enough that she'd tossed and turned all night. Leave it to her ridiculous visions to invade her sleep. The least they could have done was been a little more clear as to what it meant; people crying, bringing flowers. It was all so scary, the not knowing.

She wanted so much to share her vision with Dr. Crane but it was completely useless. Her boss would never understand and just tell her that she was ridiculous. Even after all the years she'd known him she had a feeling that he didn't truly believe that she had psychic visions.

But it felt so real...

They ate their breakfast in silence and when Frasier folded his newspaper and laid it neatly beside his plate, Daphne took her chance.

"May I see that newspaper, please?"

Frasier smiled and handed her the paper. "Certainly, Daphne... See, Dad? It seems that since Daphne started working here, she's acquired a taste for the finer things in life. I'm proud of you, Daphne for venturing into the world of opera, and I know that Niles will be proud of you, too."

Daphne smiled at the compliment and the thought occurred to her to agree with Frasier, but she couldn't lie to him. To do so would only result in a lengthy discussion on opera, a subject that, despite the fact that she was exposed to it quite a bit, she knew little to nothing about. It was best to be truthful.

"A-actually I wanted to look at the show times for the new romantic comedy that's playin' downtown at the Neptune Theatre."

Martin rolled his eyes. "I knew it. That figures."

Her head whipped around to face him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothin'. Just read your paper."

"No, I won't read me paper!" She yelled, stamping her foot in annoyance the way she'd done when she was a schoolgirl. "I want to know what you meant, right now! You got that, Old Man?"

"Daphne-."

"Look, I'm sorry for gettin' so upset, Dr. Crane but I had a horrid night and I just want to read me paper in peace, okay?"

"Dad, just tell her what you meant and finish your breakfast!" Frasier ordered.

"Daphne, I didn't mean anything by it! I just meant that... well I know damn well that you're not into opera so it's only logical that you'd look in the movie section."

"Are you sure that's all?"

"Yes, now leave me alone so that I can eat my breakfast in peace!" Martin yelled.

"Fine."

Angrily, Daphne opened the Arts and Entertainment section and scanned the listings.

"Oh sod, it's not playing anywhere until next week! Here I was all ready to watch a sweet romantic comedy and-."

She stopped short as she closed the paper and her eyes landed on a familiar face on the front page. It was the face of her favorite writer/director Nora Ephron.

And down below was the caption...

Beloved Writer/Director Passes Away