A/N: I wrote this in like 5 or 10 minutes while waiting for a call. I decided to post it anyway. Again, nothing but fluff.
"God knows I've tried to deny this. I've tried so hard and… it's just no use. I don't want to go on another day, not another moment, without you knowing how I feel. I don't want to go on without knowing what it feels like to finally kiss you. I know I shouldn't-"
"Oh, Dr. Crane!" Hearing Daphne's excited voice, Niles, standing in the middle of Frasier's living room, turns around. His eyes widen, like a deer caught in the headlights, his legs unable to move out of harm's way. How much did she hear? He thought she wasn't home. He never would have practices here if he'd known. He tries to remember every word, every syllable he's just uttered unaware. Those words, of course they were meant for her, only ever for her, but not like this. Never like this.
"Daphne." Not more than a breath, not more than a whisper.
"What you just said," she sighs, a fascinated smile on her face that causes her lips to open slightly, invitingly, "Is it a poem? Are you starring in a play, Dr. Crane? It sounded so romantic!" She clasps her hands together in what almost looks like prayer. He prays, too, now; for his courage not to leave him, for his nose not to betray him. A lie to save his face, to salvage their friendship. Not like this, he tells himself, wills himself to calm down. He plasters a fake smile on his face like a mask; it hurts, burns into his skin.
"A play," Niles tries out the word carefully, "Why, yes, Daphne. I'm starring in play. How nice of you to appreciate the writer's vision." He wonders if he sounds as wooden and empty as he feels. Do these words, these lies, bring across a message? He'd ask her, if only he could.
"It sounds wonderful, Dr. Crane," she sighs, a heavy sound, heavenly in his ears, "You sound wonderful. What is the play about?" She sits down on a chair, stares up at him expectantly.
"It's a romance, obviously," Daphne nods, of course, of course, "And it's about this… man. You see, this man, a really sad man, he is in love with this woman. A wonderful, beautiful woman he has known for a while now. Only he is too shy to tell her and so he only ever watches her. He has to watch her fall in love with other men while he's on the side line, never quite able to tell her how he feels." The smile falls from her face, slowly, and is replaced by a frown. Her lips still parted, she's thinking about what he's just told her, and he wishes he could just let words be words and instead kiss her, take it all way; take what he really wants.
"That sounds sad, Dr. Crane. Is there going to be a happy end?"
"I don't want to spoil it for you, Daphne." This smile, this one hurts.
"Well, be sure to get me a ticket, Dr. Crane. This sounds like something I want to see with me own eyes," she winks at him, puts her smile back and he almost forgets what this is all about, anyway. But just almost.
"And I hope this poor man gets his happy ending."
"Me too, Daphne. Me, too."