Author: Belinda (a.k.a. Burberry Pockets)
Title: As the Moon Turns
Setting: During "Dark Side of the Moon", Season 7. A what-if ficlet.
Comments: I'm sorta new to the world of fanfiction, but I was disappointed with the lack of Frasier stories out there. Thought I'd throw my hat in and try to rouse some interest.
…
Daphne didn't know whether she should be there or not. She paused, her fist tightly clenched before the door.
It was getting late, after all. And even though she'd called and hung up two times on the way over she couldn't be completely sure that Niles was still home. Or that he was alone.
The thought of interrupting an intimate moment between him and Mel sickened Daphne's stomach and momentarily threatened to whelm her. What if her instincts were off? What if there was no chance of comfort or counsel this evening?
It just isn't fair! whined the voice inside her head. I've always been able to count on Dr. Crane for advice. Why should anything be different now? Why do I have to be so bloody worried about impulse and propriety?
Daphne took a deep breath and rested her head against the cool wood, allowing her entire body to lean forward.
Go on, she told herself. You've come this far. You lied to your fiancée about going to sleep and calling a counselor in the morning. You couldn't find your keys and so you swiped your boss' BMW. You drove halfway across town like a madwoman and you've hereby cemented your reputation as Seattle's Most Wanted. What do you have left to lose?
Decision made, Daphne stopped breathing and started rapping urgently with all her might.
It was probably only about ninety seconds before Niles heard the ruckus and made his way over to her, but to Daphne's nerves it felt like a lifetime. Her heart began racing the instant his bewildered face came into view. The sight of his silk sleeves and matching pajama pants were fine and well to look at, but oddly enough it was the almost sensuous parting of Niles' mouth that made her knees buckle.
"Daphne!" he exclaimed. In a lilting, sleep-frazzled voice she happened to find incredibly endearing.
No time for that now.
"I'm so sorry to wake you, Dr. Crane, but I didn't know where else to go," Daphne said hurriedly, trying to get her explanations out of the way before she tripped over them.
"You'll never believe the evening I've had. It was supposed to be my night, y'see. My night to relax all by meself. But Simon is driving me completely crazy. He's taken over the entire apartment what with his booze and his bar flies. And then Donny, Mr. Bearer of Good Guests, invited over both his parents without a moment's notice while I was looking my most dowdy."
"Why, Daphne," Niles half-sputtered, half-yawned. "I highly doubt that a woman of your considerable charms could ever manage to look--"
Daphne opened her coat to reveal her K-mart best and matching bunny slippers.
"Less than adorable," he finished uneasily.
"Oh, you'd better believe it. And there's a far worse chance of my ever looking smart again after that vicious woman from the laundry room up and ruined my favorite dress. It was infuriating. When I had half the mind to stand up for myself she threatened to file a police report against me."
"Oh, Daphne." Niles rubbed his forehead as he sought to gather his bearings. "I'm so sorry to hear that."
"Never you mind it," she growled. "I told that old bat Mr. Crane would have any complaint against me thrown out in no time and you know what she said?"
He nodded patiently.
"She said she'd have me deported by her cousin's friend's brother-in-law who just so happens to be an INS agent. Can you believe that? The nerve of those braggarts that live in your brother's building! I tell you this whole night has gone to sod and I am sick of it."
Stopping in the center of the room and letting out one last huff, Daphne ceased her diatribe and started wriggling out of her coat. She wasn't surprised when Niles immediately swept into action, rushing to her side and helping her draw the heavy fabric off her weary arms.
"Thank you, Dr. Crane," she said, her tone considerably softened.
"Well, it's the least I can do," he muttered. "After the night you've had."
It was right then, as Nile was folding the coat over his right arm and edging clockwise, that the pad of his index finger inadvertently brushed Daphne bare elbow. The shiver that shot down her spine was instantaneous. A most delicious skin-on-skin sensation that Daphne had not experienced since the night Niles had burned his hand and she'd been so privileged as to tend to it…
"What I don't understand, though," the fair-haired doctor was saying, bringing her back to the present, "is why didn't you call?"
"I did!" Daphne whipped around and was disappointed when he stepped back to hang her coat. "I mean I intended to call but I… "
"You…?"
"Well, I wasn't sure that you were alone. The last thing I wanted was to disturb you. Or Mel."
Nile's brow furrowed. "Correct me if I'm wrong but, wouldn't it have presented more of a disturbance if you'd shown up and it turned out that Mel was, in fact, staying over?"
"Yes," she admitted sheepishly. "Yes, I suppose I would've."
Niles stared at her a little longer and Daphne tried to imagine how it must've looked to him. Her, showing up in her crusty old sweats a thick black trench. Not a stitch of makeup on and her hair afright. Why, it was a miracle she'd even remembered to wipe all the bleach off her upper lip--she'd been so upset after she tore out of Dr. Crane's apartment...
"Daphne." Niles was coming closer now. "Daphne, I realize you've been through quite an ordeal but I can't help but notice that you're behaving rather strangely, even for you. Is everything all right?"
"No." She walked away from him and took a seat on the sofa. "No, everything isn't."
"What's the matter?"
Daphne watched him slip beside her and she swallowed determinedly. She would not let Niles get the better of her tonight. She was not going to look into those gleaming puppy brown eyes of his and lose track of her speech. She was going to be strong this time. Not jumpy. Not neurotic. Not hungry and wanting and aching to turn back time…
"I'm having second thoughts," she blurted before she could stop herself.
"Second thoughts?"
And suddenly Daphne couldn't keep it to herself any longer. She met his gaze.
"About the wedding," she said reverently.
Niles gazed back for but a moment before he launched himself off the sofa in a fit of nervous energy. "Oh, dear," he murmured, pacing briskly across the room.
"Now, I know what you're thinking," Daphne started, half-worried that he just might.
"Yes, of course you do." He turned his entire body in exasperation. "Daphne, we've been over this before."
She swallowed hard. "Yes, but--but that was different."
"No, it wasn't. I know you've convinced yourself otherwise, but I'm sure if you were to just listen to me for a minute we might be able to uproot the germ of your anxiety."
Daphne winced and sat back obediently. She was sure this was to be the makings of a tired speech Niles took no pleasure in giving.
"First," he lifted a finger quixotically, "you were afraid to accept Donny's proposal. You were afraid of binding yourself to him and making the commitment, and so you subconsciously fabricated a dilemma that would keep you from doing so. That bridge you managed to cross, and then you were able to ignore those feelings so long as the wedding was in the distant future. But now that the date is drawing nearer you find those repressed insecurities returning, more and more frequently…"
Niles clasped his hands together and came to a standstill. "Suffice to say, Daphne, you're afraid to seal the deal."
"No, Dr. Crane!" she said sharply. "It's far more complicated than that."
"No, it isn't. That's the beauty of it, Daphne. Everybody gets cold feet. Why, two weeks before I was to marry Maris I bought a one-way ticket to Paris and almost got on that plane. Of course, that might've had more to do with my witnessing her first chemical peel than it did the traditional wedding jitters..."
"It's not cold feet." She stood up abruptly. "And it's not the jitters, thank you very much. You see, the truth is…"
Daphne trailed off suddenly, the surface of her tongue turning to sandpaper.
I can't say it. How could I possibly say it? What if he rejects me? What if he doesn't want me now, after all this time has passed?
"I'm sorry," she choked out. "Could I possibly trouble you for something to drink?"
Niles blinked. It obviously wasn't the superstition-laden protest he'd been expecting.
"Why, of course you can, Daphne. I mean, it's no trouble at all. What can I get for you? Water? Coffee?"
"Eh, I was thinking something a wee bit stronger."
He seemed so taken aback that Daphne quickly moved to qualify her request.
"Now, you don't have to be jogging down to the liquor store on my account. It's just that I'm so stressed at the moment that I, well… how about a nice glass of sherry?"
"I have an excellent bottle of Glenlivet," Niles said then, shocking the hell out of her. "Although I must confess I don't know whether you like your scotch neat or on ice?"
"Either." Daphne smiled in relief. "You should know by now that I'm not picky."
He smiled back. "Ah, yes, one of your many virtues."
Daphne's cheeks reddened as she watched Niles make off to the kitchen. Of course by then she couldn't help but notice that his feet were bare and pale as they skid across the floor. She imagined the chill he was sure to experience as he stepped onto the kitchen tile. No doubt that'd be soothed once they both took a deep drink of the dark, lush whiskey…
As if on cue, Niles returned with two crystal glasses, both neat as could be. Daphne took one nervously and muttered her thanks, hoping he wouldn't catch on that her coloring had changed. This whole situation was so damned awkward, and it certainly didn't help that Niles' sips seemed to be far less eager than hers. Lot of good this little nightcap was doing her. Rather than loosening up the conversation, the alcohol appeared to be loosening Daphne up herself.
"So you were saying?" Niles questioned, leaning back in those damned silk pajamas with that damned designer drink swirling between his fingers.
I hate him so much for being so relaxed, she thought. So polished and poised while I'm doddling about, drinking like a fish just to keep from flopping on top of him. Why, just look at him! He hasn't the faintest idea all the wicked selfish thoughts I'm thinking right now…
Suddenly in need of another shot of liquid courage, Daphne downed the rest of her glass and forced back a cough. Niles' eyes widened and he set down his glass immediately, evidently realizing that what they were about to discuss was not for the faint of heart.
"Daphne?" he said gently, setting his warm hand on her shoulder. "You know that you can tell me anything, right?"
"Yes, I do," she half-whispered. It seemed even to her that her lips had become slippery with inebriation. "I suppose that's why I came to you. You're quite different from your brother. I mean I love him dearly but I've always felt a bit more… safe confiding in you."
"Is that so?" Niles smiled shyly and Daphne grew confident at the observation that she could still flatter him. She let her guard down.
"It's been so wonderful coming to America and starting a new life working for your family. I felt at home immediately, and I never really took the time to analyze why. Oh, Dr. Crane, you've always been so kind to me and I'd like to think that I never took it for granted but… but the truth is I have." Daphne lowered her head shamefully. "I have and now I'm going to miss all of it so much."
"Well, we're all going to miss you, too, Daphne," Niles told her, sounding as if he'd pinpointed the source of her distress.
"Will you?" she asked breathlessly, feeling goose bumps rouse where he patted her knee.
"Do you even have to ask?" he chuckled, removing his right hand and reaching for the scotch. "You're like family to us. We all love you."
"Do you?"
"Of course. And Daphne, just because you're getting married doesn't mean that we won't still see each other. There'll be plenty of opportunities."
And that's when Daphne grasped that Niles hadn't understood in the slightest. This tiptoeing around the subject simply would not do. She'd have to make him understand.
"But I don't know if I want to get married," she stammered.
"Like I said. This consternation of yours is a perfectly natural experience. Especially in the final weeks before your wedding. It's the pressure, Daphne. In time it will pass."
"No, Dr. Crane, you're not hearing me. I don't know if I want to get married to Donny."
And just like that, she had recaptured his full attention.
"What are you saying exactly?" Niles asked in a quiet voice. She thought she saw a flash of pain before his face settled into a cool mask of impartiality.
Daphne licked her lips in trepidation and spoke slowly. "He's a wonderful man. And he's been better to me than any I've ever been with, but… but I'm not in love with him. I'm not sure if I ever was."
"I see." Niles looked down at his drink and let out a heavy sigh.
"Do you think it's fair, then?" Daphne goaded, her volume rising to the peak of so many unanswered questions. "To marry Donny when I can easily picture my life without him? When I can picture him with another woman and not have it break my heart? When I can picture me with somebody else being happy and-"
"That's it, isn't it?" Niles wrenched himself up from the sofa again and Daphne was surprised to hear his tone grow so dark and accusatory. "There's 'somebody else', isn't there, Daphne?"
She didn't know what to say. She certainly couldn't deny it.
Naturally, Niles took her silence as acquiescence. Daphne watched him nod stonily and dispose of his drink in the very same manner she had hers, albeit a tad less gluttonous. By the time he was finished she noted that he no longer appeared angry. Rather, his entire stance appeared to have dampened with defeat.
"Daphne," he began after an appropriate amount of contemplation had passed, "did you ever stop to consider what this may be doing to Donny? For a year, an entire year, you seemed completely happy with him. More than happy--you were ecstatic. I mean, I saw it. Frasier saw it, Dad saw it, everybody saw it."
Shaking his head from side to side, Niles let out a joyless little chuckle.
"You've had him fooled, Daphne," he said bluntly. "He's accepted it. He's… made plans. How's he supposed to handle this now?"
Tears stung the back of Daphne's eyes as something deep inside her doubled over in pain. Niles couldn't have struck her any harder if he'd slapped her straight across the face. Daphne didn't want to hurt Donny. And she'd never intended to hurt Niles, either. What was the matter with her? How could she be so callous as to come here tonight and torture him all over again?
"Oh, Daphne." She could hear the regret bleed through his voice, but even then it was no match for hers. "I'm sorry. I'm so very sorry…"
"No, I am." She pressed her scrunched face into her waiting palm. "I shouldn't have come. It's not your place and I should never have bothered you with all this."
"No, you had every right to say what you've said. You needed someone to lend you an ear and instead it seems I've run my mouth. But I don't judge you, Daphne. I would never dare. You can't help the way you feel."
"I should've come clean earlier," she wept. "But I kept stalling because I was so sure that I could will these feeling to go away. If anything they've gotten stronger. Oh, Dr. Crane--what am I going to do? I waited and I waited and now I'm afraid it's too late. It's all gotten so complicated."
"It doesn't have to be." Daphne felt his weight settle beside her again and the strings that strung her tightened substantially. "Donny's a big boy. He can handle rejection just as well as anybody else. You don't have to marry him if you don't want to."
Don't say it, her mind thought. Don't encourage me when I'm this vulnerable.
"Who is he then?" Niles asked soothingly, and her heart screamed in confusion as he began to stroke her back.
"Who is who?" she choked.
"Your somebody else?"
And Daphne could bear it no more.