"Hey. Hey buddy. Spare change?"

Niles paused, head cocked to one side, listening. The streets were fairly busy this evening; it was a popular shopping district and Christmas was just around the corner. He didn't see who was speaking at first, and then the request came again, from somewhere to his left.

"Buddy? Yeah, you in the nice suit. How about it, man? Help me out?"

Turning, Niles spotted him in the entrance to an alley, half hidden in the shadows between two buildings. The man was raggedly dressed, with greasy hair hanging over his forehead and a week's worth of graying stubble on his chin. He smiled hopefully at Niles, revealing teeth that had probably never seen a dentist.

"What do you say?" the man asked. "Come on, it's almost Christmas."

Niles nearly kept walking. He hadn't given money to a panhandler in years; the last time he had, Maris had found out about it and mocked him for weeks. She loathed the homeless. It was force of habit to just keep going and pretend he'd never seen the man, but he hesitated. After all, his divorce from Maris was nearly complete; it wasn't like she would be hearing about this. And it was Christmas, or at least close to it. Why not?

"Sure," he said, turning toward the alley, one hand digging in his pocket for change. The man beamed at him and shuffled forward, and as he moved Niles saw he was leaning heavily on a cane. He made sure to grab a few bills along with the handful of coins, and held them out.

"Thanks buddy," the man said, lifting his hand. He leaned away as he did it, pulling back into the alley a little, and Niles automatically followed, reaching further. He'd taken three steps into the alley before the shadow of the surrounding buildings closed over his head and he realized they were all but invisible in the fading winter sunlight.

Nervous, he started to lower his hand, but it was too late. The man grabbed his wrist and yanked him forward, and then the cane struck him hard in the back of his knee, buckling it instantly. Off balance and with his hand caught, Niles slammed into the alley wall, the side of his face taking most of the impact. His vision blanked for a moment and the next thing he knew, he was being dragged hastily further into the alley. He'd just gotten his breath to yell for help when he was dropped and the back of his head smacked the pavement, dazing him again.

The man wielded the cane like a baseball bat, delivering two stinging blows across his chest and driving the wind out of him. Niles curled on his side, instinctively bringing his hands up to protect his head, and couldn't bite back a sharp cry when three more blows landed on his side and back.

"Shut up!" the man snarled, crouching down close to him. Fetid breath washed over Niles' face and he gagged, curling tighter in on himself.

"Okay," Niles whispered hastily. "Okay, okay, please, take what you want. Please…"

"Your wallet," the man snapped. "Hand it over."

Niles reached for his pocket, but apparently he wasn't fast enough, because the man delivered a swift kick to his ribs that left him gasping in pain.

"I said now! Move it!"

Niles moved faster, ripping the lining of his jacket in his haste to get the wallet out. He held it up and it was snatched from his hand. He lay still, hoping that was the end of it.

"Your watch and your phone. And your keys."

"Okay," Niles said. "I'm getting it, you can have it, please don't…"

The man silenced him with another kick, to the small of his back this time. Niles swallowed the cry of pain that wanted to escape, and handed over his keys and phone. His hands were shaking and he couldn't get the catch to his watchband to come undone and for several terrible seconds he was sure this man would beat him to death for the sin of failing to hand over his watch, but thankfully the man seemed occupied with the keys.

"Mercedes, huh?" he said, sounding pleased. "Always wanted one of those."

"It's yours," Niles replied quickly. "It's an E-320, parked around the corner, you can't miss it. Please just take it and go."

"Shut up and give me the damn watch," he shot back, just as Niles managed to get the catch loose. He held it out, then curled back up, breathless and aching in a dozen places.

There was silence, except for the noise of traffic from the street just a few yards away, and the jingle of the keys in the man's hand. Niles tried to get a grip on his racing thoughts--he's got my keys and my wallet my ID is in there he's got my address he knows where I live and he can get in oh god what if he kills me he could kill me and I never even told Daphne-

Pain blanked out his mental panic attack as the man laid into him with the cane again. Niles struggled to get away, operating on some primal level where he was only interested in moving away from the thing that was hurting him, but he couldn't get up and his shaking arms spilled him back onto the filthy alley floor.

"Don't move," came a voice very close behind him, and Niles froze. Something small and hard pressed against the back of his head and he held his breath, everything in him going cold. Was that a gun? He hadn't seen a gun but maybe it had been hidden and oh god, he was going to die, he was going to be shot right here because he'd been stupid enough to give someone his spare change.

"Listen up," the man said, and Niles nodded, unable to get words through his suddenly dry throat. "You stay right here for five minutes. Don't move. You try and come after me and you're dead. Got it?"

"Yes," Niles managed, nodding rapidly. "Yes, I've got it, please don't… don't…."

There was one last kick driven into his back and then the sound of footsteps, fading quickly. Niles remained still, face pressed against the ground, his back and ribs throbbing with a hot, fierce ache everywhere he'd been hit. The circle of panicked thoughts had stopped; his mind had gone completely blank. He stared at the wall in front of him as the last of the daylight bled away, and then longer, unable to make himself move.

It was the rain on his face that got him moving, a quick, cold patter of drops, and then more, rushing down around him. Niles rolled slowly onto his back, moaning as the movement brought fresh pain. The rain ran into his eyes, blurring his vision, and the streetlights visible at the end of the alley doubled, then trebled, before resolving into one image again. He took a minute to steel himself, and then sat up, immediately leaning forward and clutching his head in his hands.

It was a slow, painful process, but he managed to get to his feet, clinging to the wall of the alley for support. He stood there for a time, forehead resting on the wet bricks, hands splayed to either side, eyes closed, just trying to gather himself. Rain matted his hair and ran in icy rivulets down the back of his neck, but it seemed to clear his head and for that, he was grateful.

Niles began to take stock of himself. His legs were weak, his knees wobbly, but there was only a faint twinge in the knee where he'd been first taken down by the cane. He could walk. His back and chest were fiery misery, and taking a deep breath was out of the question, but the pain was an overall ache rather than anything sharp or stabbing, so he probably didn't have any broken ribs. His head throbbed and his vision kept going a bit gray around the edges, but the dizziness was passing. He cautiously prodded the side of his face with his fingertips; the place where he'd struck the wall felt swollen and raw.

The cold was the real problem, and he knew it. It was just far enough above freezing for this to be drizzle, rather than snow, but he was already soaked through and getting colder by the minute. He needed to get moving.

If he'd been thinking clearly, he would have walked into the nearest open store and asked them to call for help, but everything in his head felt wrapped up in cotton batting, vague and muffled. The hum of traffic and rustle of the rain mixed with his own harsh breathing to create a soothing buzz of white noise. This was far more comforting than the cold terror had been, and he clung to it.

Niles shuffled carefully toward the end of the alley, not trusting his legs. They threatened to spill him to the ground more than once, and he had to stop after three steps to lean over and lose what was left of his lunch. When that was over, he wiped his mouth, gasping for breath and waiting for the renewed ache in his belly to ease. Then he started moving again.

At the end of the alley, he peered cautiously out into the street, but there was no sign of his attacker, or anyone else. The darkness and cold rain had driven all but the most determined shoppers inside, and the sidewalks were empty save a few hurrying figures, hunched under umbrellas.

Frasier's place was close, only a handful of blocks away. Niles turned in that direction, gathered his courage, and began to walk. It was bad at first; he was shivering hard and his coordination was shot, leaving him staggering more often than walking. After a while though, the shivering faded, and the pain began to fade as well. His vision was getting worse but the street was lit well enough, and he only had to move in a relatively straight line. He even managed to avoid getting hit by cross traffic as he passed through intersections.

By the time he reached Frasier's building, he was mostly numb, and felt as if he were floating along the sidewalk instead of trudging ahead. As he walked into the lobby, a blast of warm air made him stop short, and he stood just inside the door, swaying, looking blankly down at his shoes.

"Doctor Crane?"

Niles didn't react until he heard it a couple more times, and realized that it was his name. He looked up slowly, blinking until the man in front of him came into focus. It was the doorman, staring at him with his mouth hanging open.

"Oh," Niles murmured, his voice creaking in his throat. "Hi."

"Are you all right? You look…"

Niles nodded, opened his mouth, and then shut it again. He couldn't summon the energy to reply, and wasn't especially interested in doing so anyway. He drifted past, floating again, headed for the elevators. The warmth was beginning to creep in, making his fingers tingle unpleasantly, his ears burn, and he hunched his shoulders.

When he stepped onto the elevator, everyone getting off stared at him, aghast, but for once in his life Niles didn't especially care how he appeared to anyone. He looked at the buttons, a furrow appearing between his eyebrows, and waited for them to resolve into something he could read. When they didn't, he pressed 19 by memory and leaned one shoulder against the wall. The rain and traffic sounds were gone, but the elevator hummed, and his mind was still all gray fog, peacefully numb.

When the doors opened, he stumbled forward and leaned on the doorbell. He rested his head against the door frame and closed his eyes, half-dozing. He'd stopped feeling cold a while ago and the sleepiness was welcoming, entreating him to just slide down the wall and curl up on the floor.

He didn't realize the door had opened until there was a gasp and hands grabbed his arms, pulling him forward. "Doctor Crane! My god, what's happened?"

Niles lifted his head, and smiled. "Daphne," he said. "Daphne…"

"Doctor Crane, Mister Crane, come quick!" she yelled into the apartment behind her. "Help me with him!"

Frasier's voice came next, but it was distant. "Niles! Niles, what… look at you, you're hurt! Daphne, here, get his arm, he's going to fall."

Then he really was floating, Frasier on one side and Daphne on the other, holding him up, his father's worried voice asking him what happened but he was just so sleepy and explaining would be so hard.

There was a swirl of talk around him and he caught only bits of it. Frasier asking Daphne to run a bath, "not hot, just warm, he's in early hypothermia," and then speaking to him, coaxing him along the hallway. "Dad, could you make some coffee for him please? Good and strong." Frasier's arm was around his waist, half-carrying him through the apartment, the water already running in the bathroom ahead of them.

Then he was standing again, swaying back and forth, as Frasier gently stripped his soaked and filthy clothes off. Niles thought that maybe he should protest his brother casually undressing him like a child but he couldn't quite muster the energy. When his undershirt was pulled over his head, he heard a gasp, and then there was quiet. Niles lifted his gaze from the floor, and found Frasier staring at him, one hand over his mouth, his eyes so shocked that a bit of concern managed to pierce Niles' cocoon of numbness.

"What?" Niles asked, frowning slightly.

"Oh, Niles," Frasier replied softly. "Who did this?"

Niles blinked at him and then looked down, surveying his bare chest. Livid bruises stood out in clear lines where the cane had struck, mixed with mottled blotches from the kicks. He could see it, but it didn't seem to connect to him personally. It was like looking at a picture in medical school, clinical and detached.

"There was," Niles began, haltingly. "There was a man… he surprised me…" Then he trailed off, unwilling to continue. Talking about it made it too real. The soothing buzz of white noise in his head was starting to fade and he didn't want it to go. There were too many terrible things circling beneath it.

"The bath is ready if you're…" Daphne began, sticking her head into the room. She stopped and stared, and Niles saw tears well up in her eyes. "Oh," she whispered. "Oh Doctor Crane, oh no."

Niles crossed his arms over his chest, ignoring the painful tug of his muscles. He turned away but that only served to show his back, and he gathered by their gasps that it wasn't an improvement.

"Daphne," Frasier said, and he must have made some kind of gesture, because she was gone when Niles felt his brother's warm hands on his shoulders, turning him back around.

"I didn't want her to…" Niles started, and then wasn't sure how to finish. "It would only upset her," he finally said.

"It's okay," Frasier said gently. "Here, take the pants off so you can get in the tub. You're like ice."

"Okay," Niles mumbled and he tugged at his belt a couple times with uncooperative fingers before Frasier did it for him. Stripped to his boxers, Niles found himself being guided toward the bathroom. Walking was getting hard again and he tried to get that drifting, dazed feeling back but it danced out of his reach.

"In you go," Frasier said, helping him into the tub. The water felt searing on his skin and Niles balked, breath hissing between his teeth in pain.

"Hot!" he yelped, but Frasier held him firmly in place.

"It's barely lukewarm," his brother said, "and you are in the initial stages of hypothermia. Please, Niles. I promise it will start feeling better soon."

Niles gritted his teeth and forced himself to sink lower in the water, his skin prickling with fire, his hands and feet throbbing as the numbness faded. He began shivering violently, and his teeth chattered, all his bruises seeming to wake up and clamor for attention at once.

"Easy," Frasier murmured, one hand on the back of his neck, holding him steady. "I know, shhh, hold on."

Niles heard the door open, and then his father looked in. "How's he doing Fras? I got the coffee ready, you want it?"

"Please," Frasier said, nodding. "It will help warm him up." He took the steaming cup of coffee from his father's hand.

"Dad," Niles said, "wait."

Marty got closer, and then stopped, going pale as he got a good look at Niles. He fumbled for his cane and clutched it, leaning heavily, and closed his eyes for a long moment. "What do you need?" he asked quietly.

"The… the man who did this," Niles began, forcing the words out between his chattering teeth. "He's got my wallet, my keys, he can find out where I live and get in and… and…" He stopped and pressed his lips together tightly when he heard his voice break.

"I'll take care of it," Marty said. "I'll make a few calls. We'll get the bastard, don't you worry about that."

Niles nodded. "Thanks Dad."

Marty's face softened. He squeezed his son's bare shoulder and then smoothed his hair back from his face, an old gesture Niles remembered from when he was a little boy and he'd come home crying after some encounter with a bully. Niles shut his eyes tight and swallowed, and when he opened them again, he was alone with Frasier.

"Here," Frasier said, handing him the coffee. "Sip it slowly."

Niles did as he was told, the warmth spreading from his throat down into his chest, making him feel awake for the first time since he'd gotten out of that alley. He got half the cup down before his hands were shaking too badly to hold onto it anymore, and he passed it back to Frasier. He covered his face in his hands and bit his lip, forcing the tears back.

Frasier's hand was on the back of his neck again, soothing and strong, and Niles leaned into it, forcing himself to take deep breaths.

"Okay," Frasier said. "I'm going to warm up the water a bit, you ready?"

Niles nodded, not trusting his voice. He watched as dirty water drained away until the tub was only half full, and then shivered again as new, hot water poured in from the faucet. The aching in his hands started again but it wasn't as bad as the first time, and he settled lower in the water, letting the heat reach his bones.

By the time he was clean and had finished the coffee, Niles finally felt warm. The bath had eased his bruised body as well, although the pain was certainly not gone and his ribs protested loudly as Frasier helped him up. He managed to walk under his own power to the bedroom, where his brother handed him a set of clean sleep pants and a soft bathrobe. He was relieved to be left to dress in privacy.

The bed looked appealing, but Niles knew he couldn't just collapse. His family was out there and he'd made them wait for their answers long enough.

He took a deep breath, and opened the door. Daphne was waiting for him, her face firmly set in determined good cheer. "Doctor Crane," she said, smiling at him. "Feeling better?"

"Yes, thank you," he said. "I'm sorry about… that you had to see that. I didn't want to upset you."

Daphne's lower lip trembled but she quelled it and put a gentle hand on his shoulder. "I'm just so glad you're okay."

Niles was startled when she hugged him, but he sank into it gratefully. He could feel her arms around him, cradling him carefully, wary of his bruises. One hand stroked slowly up and down his back, the other carding through his hair, and he felt the tears threaten again. Pressure built in his throat and prickled at his eyes and he clung to her for one long, sweet moment. But he couldn't afford to indulge himself in this; there was no way he could keep a hold of his emotions right now and if he started crying he'd only set her off as well.

He pulled back and followed her into the living room, settling onto the couch. He swallowed a grunt of pain as he tried awkwardly to find a position that didn't hurt.

The family gathered quietly around him, and when he looked up, they were all watching. He nodded to himself, then looked down at his hands, laced together in his lap to keep them from trembling.

"I was doing some shopping," he began, his voice just above a whisper. "There was a man in the alley, asking for spare change. I reached out to hand him some and he pulled me in and knocked me down and he…" Niles stopped to take a deep breath. "He had a cane and hit me with it and he, uh… he kicked me and he took all my things. My wallet and my phone and my watch. And he had a gun, I think, and he held it up against my head and I thought he was going to… I thought he was going to k-kill me, but he didn't."

Niles scrubbed his hands over his face, wincing when he bumped the bruise over his eye and cheekbone. He didn't look up. He didn't want to know how they were looking at him. Pity, probably, or even scorn for falling for such an obvious trick. "After it was over," he continued, "I got up and I walked. Fortunately I wasn't that far away from here." He shrugged, staring at the floor between his bare feet. "That's pretty much it."

He felt like he was pretty steady, until Daphne sat down beside him, put her arm around his shoulders, and said "Oh, you poor man. You must have been so scared." He looked at her, at her beautiful brown eyes, filled with compassion, and he burst into tears.

Once he started, he couldn't seem to stop, and the next thing he knew all three of them were gathered around him, murmuring soothing things, and he had his face pressed against Daphne's shoulder and his brother's hands were warm on his back and his dad was smoothing his hair. Niles sobbed until his voice gave out and his bruised ribs were one hot ache and even when he finally quieted, they were all still around him, keeping him safe.

Niles didn't expect to sleep much, but after his brother wrote him a prescription for some powerful muscle relaxants and painkillers, and Daphne ran out to the all night pharmacy to get it filled, he found himself feeling much better. He could barely stay away long enough to make it to Frasier's room, and was asleep before Daphne had even finished pulling the covers over him. If he'd been more coherent, he surely would have appreciated the way she tucked them in, or the soft touch of her hand on his face before she left.

He woke up once in the early morning, long enough to stumble into the bathroom and then back to bed, but he wasn't fully awake until much later the next day. The sunlight was angling in through the window behind the bed, the cool amber light of a winter morning. Niles blinked, dry-mouthed and dizzy, and smiled when he saw that some angel had left him a glass of water and another painkiller on the bedside table.

Probably Daphne, he thought, drinking half the glass in one go. It was the kind of thing she would do. He was hurting enough to take the pill, but only reluctantly; it made him act like a giggly drunk and he knew it. He'd taken something similar years ago for a back injury and it had made him so giddy that he'd sat at the foot of Maris' bed, composing romantic poetry at her while she wore her earplugs and coldly ignored him.

Niles sighed, remembering it. Only one of many such memories, but all the more bitter now that his marriage was over.

There was a soft knock at the door, and then it opened, Daphne leaning in. "Doctor Crane? Are you up?"

"I'm up," he replied, offering her a wan smile.

"Make sure you take your medicine," she said, sweeping briskly into the room. "Doctor Crane says you're to have a dose every twelve hours for at least the next three days. I can give you an extra half pill if you really need it."

"No," Niles said quickly. "No, thank you, one is plenty. Just took it. Thank you so much for leaving me the water, that was very considerate of you."

She beamed at him, and Niles felt his spirits lifting. "Aren't you sweet! You must be the most good-natured patient I've ever had."

"I'm not really a patient."

"Hush," Daphne replied. "Let me pamper you a bit, you deserve it and it would make me feel better."

"Well," Niles said, returning her smile. "If it would make you feel better."

She laughed and sat beside him on the bed, giving him a quick hug. Niles closed his eyes and breathed in her scent. Strawberries today, with a hint of almonds. He remembered lying in the alley with a gun to his head, thinking of all he hadn't told her, and he shuddered, his breath catching in his throat.

"Are you all right?" Daphne asked, watching him with concern.

Niles nodded automatically, and then paused, sighing. "No, to be honest, I'm not."

"Well of course not," she said. She was stroking his back again and Niles leaned closer, his skin tingling beneath her touch. "Nobody would be all right after something like that. Silly of me to even ask such a daft question. When I think of how that horrible man hurt you, well I'm not a violent person but I can't help wishing terrible things on him." She turned and looked at him, studying his face for a long moment. "I know I said this last night, but I really mean it. I'm so glad you're okay. I don't know what I'd do if…"

She trailed off, and Niles took his chance. He put his arms around her and she pressed her face into the crook of his neck, her other hand coming up to curl around his arm. He held her, the familiar and beloved scent of her hair wafting up at him, and relished this chance to be close. It was a simple, quiet comfort, just having this moment of peace with the woman he loved, even if she didn't know it.

He wasn't sure how long they sat like that, but Daphne pulled back eventually and wiped her face. "Right," she said, "I came in here for a reason, and it wasn't to cry on your shoulder like a silly girl."

"Not silly at all," Niles said. She smiled at him, and it was on the tip of his tongue to tell her everything, to say she could stay right here with him, that he would be happy to hold her every day for the rest of their lives. But he only smiled back instead.

"Roll over," she said, "and get that robe off."

Niles caught his breath and laughed nervously, a high giggle that he could never seem to hold back around her. "What? I… that is, if you… okay!"

She laughed. "The look on your face! I'm going to give you a massage, that's all."

"Oh," Niles said, feeling a blush creep up his neck until even his ears were hot.

"Don't you worry, I'll be very gentle," she said, spreading a little lotion on her hands. The scent of sandalwood filled the room and Niles settled obediently on his stomach.

"Robe off, remember?" Daphne chided him, and then her hands were at his shoulders, pulling the robe away until he was wearing only the loose fitting sleep pants Frasier had loaned him. Niles muffled another nervous laugh in the pillow, his skin singing in anticipation. He was shirtless on a bed with Daphne! Certainly the circumstances were not quite the way he'd imagined but at this point he'd take what he could get.

The first touch of her hands had him melting into the blankets. "Just relax," she said, and then she chuckled. It was a warm, throaty sound that made Niles sigh happily. "Oh, you're already rather relaxed, aren't you?"

"Must be the medication," Niles mumbled, grateful for an excuse. Although it wouldn't exactly explain the parts of him that weren't quite so relaxed. Lucky for him he was lying on his front.

"That's good," Daphne said absently. She seemed distracted, her hands sliding over his back, lingering to stroke along his spine and gently trace his ribs. "Just tell me if it hurts, okay?"

"Mmm-hmm." Niles wriggled a little, and Daphne moved with him, her steady warmth a comforting presence in the bed beside him. Her fingertips moved in small circles, an expert touch that soon chased away any remaining tension. Even then she kept going, aimlessly wandering over his back and sides, until one hand came up and her fingertips trailed through his hair, smoothing it down. Niles felt her breath on the back of his neck and goosebumps prickled all the way down his spine.

"Are you cold?" she asked. "I can get a blanket."

"Not cold," he said, his voice slurring a little. "Just you."

"What?"

"You do that to me. Every time you touch me that happens. Sometimes just looking at you…"

Daphne's hands stilled, and Niles replayed the last few words in his head, his heart thumping as he realized what he'd just said. That damn medication! Maybe she'd believe it was just the pills talking. He started to turn over, and then froze, remembering his body's other reaction to her touch. He couldn't blame that on the pills.

"Doctor Crane?" she asked, an odd note to her voice that he couldn't interpret. Was she angry? Shocked? He wished he could see her face but she was behind him and he didn't dare turn around just yet.

"Um," he said, grasping for the right words. "Could we, uh… can we just pretend I didn't say that?"

She was quiet, and Niles held his breath, hoping he hadn't just ruined things. "No," she said softly. "I don't think we can."

"Oh." Niles closed his eyes and bit his lip. Well, at least that particular bucket of cold water had solved his little problem. He sat up, turning to face her. She was looking down, refusing to meet his eyes, her hands knotted anxiously together in her lap.

"I'm sorry," he said, hearing the obvious fear in his voice but unable to control it. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. Please don't take that the wrong way, I just… you're so…"

"Niles," she said, and he gaped at her, astonished to hear her use his name. A flutter of hope stirred in his chest and he willed it down firmly.

"Daphne?"

She finally met his eyes, and smiled, and said, "I'm glad."

"You are? I mean… wait, are we talking about the same thing here? Because this is important."

She nodded. "Yes, it is. And we are. I'm glad that you… that you feel that way. I've kind of suspected it for a while but you never said anything and I always thought, what if it's all in my head? Wishful thinking? And you know, you're Doctor Crane's brother and I work for him if I said something and got it all wrong that would just be horridly awkward and I'd have to leave and I don't want to leave, I love it here, and, and… I'm babbling, aren't I? Please say something."

Niles stared, his mouth working but his mind spinning in neutral, unable to grasp what she'd just said.

"You…" he said, "you mean…"

Her eyes were impossibly warm. "Oh for god's sake," she muttered, and then she leaned forward, cradled his face very carefully in her hands, as if he were precious, and kissed him.

Niles had imagined this moment so many times, but never quite like this. When he pictured it, he was always the one who swept her off her feet with a grand romantic gesture, or came to her rescue, or confessed his feelings over a quiet candlelit dinner for two. He would never have come up with this scenario in a million years.

"Daphne," he said, kissing her lips, her neck, the sweet line of her jaw. "Oh, Daphne."

She pulled back for a moment and regarded him steadily, her eyes half-lidded and dark. "So does that mean you do love me too?"

"Yes," he said, and the relief of finally saying it out loud was enormous, a great weight off his shoulders. "Yes, yes, oh Daphne, there's so much I want to tell you. So much I've wanted to tell you for so long."

"There's time enough for that later," she said, kissing him again. "For now, I have everything I need right here."

End