Author's note: This story was partially inspired by Kristen3's story "Protected From the Storm" and a chapter of "Recharging the Spark" by xfilesfanatic. I really hope you enjoy it!

Daphne woke before her alarm. When she opened her eyes, there was a strange feeling inside of her, and she clawed to find a reason. After she had remembered her date from the night before, her eyes slowly slid shut again. Her mind rebelled and would not sleep, so she rose and put on her bathrobe, just like every morning.

Soaked with a memory, she went about her morning routine as usual, making herself a cup of tea and putting on a pot of coffee for everyone else. She wouldn't need to start breakfast for another hour now. She really had woken up early.

As Daphne had waited for the kettle to boil, she reveled in the thought of Richard's loud hands, his red tie, his wide, broad gaze. It was something in the way he had looked at her, or in the way he had shifted in his chair, something that haunted her. She pursed her lips. It was silly.

The kettle began to roar, and she poured the hot, steaming water over her tea bag. The mug felt good and soft on her hands, and she stared down into it, waiting for the sweet smell of her tea to hit her nose. She kept having to snap herself back into reality, away from deep, grimy thoughts that would have loved to stain her skin. She resolved to sit on the balcony and watch the sun rise over the city. Doing so always put her in a good mood on days when she rose earlier than expected.

Daphne slid the door open with her unoccupied hand and stepped out, the coolness of the morning kissing her. A breeze blew her hair off her shoulders, away from her face. She stood at the ledge, looking down at the earth, still resting. Few cars passed below, and the lights of buildings still shown as if it were night. She thought of all those in front of her, ones she'd never meet. Ones that she'd hate, ones she'd love, ones she'd be best friends with. All gone, all never to be seen.

But she wasn't the type to think this way, and she knew it. She tried to pull herself into positivity, but Richard, his eyes still watching her, kept her from doing so. Daphne couldn't stop seeing his face; she couldn't save herself from drowning in his words.

"…you know what I mean? Sometimes, you just gotta choose…"

She kept going back, further and further, into last night, back to the restaurant, back to their table. And after a while she stopped fighting.

"Sometimes, you just gotta choose where you wanna go in life. I chose Seattle. Away from Edna, my ex-wife, away from Los Angeles. I've had nothing but luck." Richard had picked up his beer and sipped it without care.

"I'm glad. It's been…it's been good to me, too," Daphne said. He wasn't completely unattractive, she thought, but he…

"Remind me what you do again?"

"I'm a physical therapist."

"Is that interesting?" He took another sip of his beer.

"I think so. I love the people I work for. It's not always jam, but it's—"

"I just love that accent of yours. It's not too often you meet a British girl, huh?"

He was nice, she persuaded herself. Nice and not unattractive.

"No, I suppose not," she responded, laughing nervously.

"What's England like?"

"Beautiful. And loud. I've got eight brothers—"

"Eight brothers, holy Moses. I had two and I thought that was bad. Sorry, go on."

"'Course, I haven't been back in…" Suddenly, Daphne felt weak, an emotion she didn't often have a problem with. He looked at her, full of expectation, and suddenly, horror filled her body. She realized why Richard was bothering her and she stood straight up. "Would you excuse me? I have to use the bathroom for a quick moment."

"Oh, sure, take your time." He took another sip of beer and Daphne's legs rushed her to the bathroom.

The bathroom was freezing and empty. Her head began to spin, and she eased herself into the largest bathroom stall.

She didn't like Richard. Daphne was beginning to realize that absolutely nothing about Richard intrigued her in the least bit. But she had been so lonely lately. Lonely enough to accept his dinner offer. So lonely, so ready for the kind of love she'd been dreaming about since she was a teenager, so ready to move on to the next phase of her life that she had seen something in him that had never been there. She had become desperate, a desperate woman who was no longer young, and that idea cracked her bones and turned her muscles to liquid. She shivered, her head pounded, and Daphne vomited into the toilet so unexpectedly that tears were beginning to leak out her eyes.

What was wrong with her? Why was this happening? She never acted like this; she no longer felt like herself. Tears came like a deep flood, and she was powerless to keep them from beginning. Her cries punctured the air and she prayed no one would enter the bathroom. This fear made her force the tears away and she rose from the floor, wiping her eyes and then trying to wash their redness away in the sink. She stared at herself, a mess, for a moment before going back into the restaurant where Richard sat alone.

"Are you okay? You look—"

"Richard, I'm sorry." Her throat began to ache, deeply. It took all of her to keep her face from contorting back into sobs. "I'm not feeling well. I must have the flu or something."

"Oh, well, okay. Go on home, then. Is it okay if I call you next week or so?"

She was in such a hurry to get away that she said yes without thinking. Daphne resumed crying as soon as she got out the door. Her car was blurry and she struggled to unlock it. She knew that she probably shouldn't have been driving, but the part of her that wanted to be home pushed away any concern.

When she had reached the apartment, she drew herself together and looked down. Dr. Crane was still awake, watching PBS. "Daphne, you're home early," he said, not taking his eyes off the screen. "Did it go okay?"

"It was fine," she managed to say, voice still shaky.

"Good," he said, not noticing. "Going to bed?"

"Yes."

"Goodnight."

She didn't respond, she just opened the door to her bedroom and closed it, wrapped in darkness. Daphne took off her clothes slowly and got in the shower, letting the embrace of the water warm her. After, she put on her nightgown and crawled into cool sheets, the darkness calming her. Despite this, she still softly, gently cried herself to sleep.

Now, Daphne watched the sky beginning to lighten and took a sip of her tea. She wondered why life was so good to some people, becoming successful, finding love young, starting a family, and so seemingly unfair to others. She realized that it was a question that would take a lifetime in itself to answer.

Without warning, he balcony door opened and out stepped Mr. Crane, bedecked in his red bathrobe. "Mornin' Daph," he said. "What are you doin' up so early?"

"I could ask the same thing of you, Mr. Crane," she said, smiling a little.

"Well, I couldn't sleep. Eddie's got an itch on his neck, and his collar makes noise every time he scratches it."

"I just…woke up early this morning."

"How'd your date go?"

Daphne swallowed hard. "It…well, I suppose you could say it…went."

"Uh oh. What happened?"

A long silence followed. "Dr. Crane…did you ever feel…I mean after Mrs. Crane…never mind."

"What is it, Daph?"

"Mr. Crane…I'm lonely." The words fell out of her before she had a chance to catch them. "I mean…I'm getting older, and I feel like by now if I were going to meet my soulmate I would have already met him."

"Daphne," he said, "look out there." He motioned to the city with his other hand. "There are thousands of men out there! Trust me, all of them are looking for a girl just like you."

"Really? Well then why—"

"There's a person out there, Daph. There's a person out there for all of us, trust me. Now I don't like to go and get all sappy or anything, but I see the way guys look at you when we're out together. One day one of them's gonna like what he sees enough to wanna fall in love with you. And if he's the one, you'll let him and you'll feel the same way. But the good ones don't grow on trees, ya know."

"I know, believe me."

"And whaddaya talkin' about, lonely? You've got tons of friends, me, Frasier, Niles, Roz. Eddie loves you! And…you know that I…" He paused.

"I love you too, Mr. Crane." She squeezed his hand.

"Feel better?"

"You've helped more than you know, Mr. Crane, but I'm afraid this is a sadness that can't be cured in completion that easily. I'm afraid it might be here for a little while longer."

"Of course, Daph. I'll help in any way I can."

"You could make your own breakfast…"

"Well, now, I don't know about that," he said.

Daphne smiled, getting up from her chair and following him back inside. She could see the sun now, and it brought her hope. An ache still sat in her gut, but Mr. Crane was right. She'd find someone someday, when it was raining or snowing, in the day or in the night. He'd love her like a goddess and treat her like a queen; he'd bring her dreams to life and give her new ones.

For him, she supposed, she could wait a little while longer.