Author's Note: This idea came to me a while ago, and I've finally gotten around to writing it down. The next chapter will be longer, and should be up tomorrow (maybe Monday at the latest)

Disclaimer: I do not own Frasier

Frasier and Daphne were watching out the balcony window, Daphne attempting to entice Martin back to his telescope, when the phone rang.

"I'll get it," Frasier said, growing weary of the physiotherapist's game.

"Hello, Doctor Frasier Crane."

"My, but you answer your home phone formally," came a stoic voice from the other end of the line.

"Lilith," Frasier replied in recognition. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"No need to sound so bitter, Frasier," Lilith's voice softened. "Frederick wants to talk to you."

"It must be nearly eleven p.m. in Boston, what's a child of three doing awake?"

"He had a nightmare, I tried to soothe him myself, but for some reason he keeps insisting he wants you."

"I can't imagine why," Frasier replied sarcastically.

"Stop it," Lilith warned. "Hang on."

There was a brief mumbling from the other end and then a tiny voice entered his ear.

"Daddy?"

"Yes, Frederick, I'm here. What's wrong?"

"I'm scared."

"What are you scared of?" Frasier questioned patiently.

"Senator Thurmond," Frederick whimpered. "In my closet."

"Now, Frederick, I'm certain that you were just having a dream," Frasier responded. "Did you get your mother to look inside your closet for you and show you he's not there?"

There was silence on the other end, for what Frasier could only assume was his son asking Lilith to check the closet.

"She's looking now," Frederick came back on the line.

"Good, she'll show you that all that's in your closet is clothes, and toys."

There was a brief pause, "Did I wake you up, daddy?"

"No, Freddie," Frasier replied. "I was just sitting here with Grandad and Daphne."

"Tell Grandad I love him," Frederick said. "And that I liked the gun he sent me. Well, I think I did. Mother smashed it with a croquet mallet and said only fools play with guns."

"I'll tell him," Frasier affirmed, rolling his eyes at his ex-wife's rash reaction to the gift.

"Mother is back," Frederick whispered. "She says it's empty."

"Good," Frasier replied. "Now, are you going to go and try and get some more sleep?"

"What if she's wrong?"

"Is your mother ever wrong?"

"Maybe, just this one time?" Frederick whimpered, clearly afraid to go back to his room.

"No listen to daddy," Frasier soothed. "It's just a bad dream, I promise you. Senator Thurmond is not in your closet."

"Okay, daddy."

"That's a good boy," Frasier smiled into the phone.

Frederick stifled a yawn.

"Okay, yes, you go back to bed."

"I love you daddy," Frederick mumbled sleepily.

"Yeah, I love you too. Listen, I'll see you next weekend."

"Okay, good night."

"Okay, bye bye," he hung up the phone.

Martin looked up, "How's Freddie?"

"Oh, Frederick is fine," Frasier replied, returning the phone to its shelf. "Oh, he sends his love. He said to thank you for the toy gun you gave him. At least what he can remember of it before Lilith smashed it to bits with a croquet mallet."

Season One, Episode Five

Martin: How's Freddie?

Frasier: Oh, Frederick is fine. Oh, he sends his love. He said to thank you for the toy gun you gave him.
At least what he can remember of it before Lilith smashed it to bits with a croquet mallet.