A/N: This story is for Melinda to thank her for all of her support and friendship! *hugs*

As Rebecca listened to the beautiful love song that Russell was playing for her on the piano, she knew that this ridiculousness had to stop. He was a sweet boy and very talented but it would never work between them. Besides, she was a woman and women her age simply did not date men like Russell.

He wasn't even a man, really. More like a boy.

What would people think, seeing them in public together? She shuddered at the answer and she absolutely refused to date a man whom people would think is her son.

No...

Despite Sam's so-called encouragement and Carla's sarcastic remarks, Rebecca had to end this as soon as possible.

But the song Russell sang seemed to have no end. It was definitely romantic; there was no doubt about that. It would hurt him even more if she were to interrupt him.

And so she stood behind the bar, subjected to words that touched her heart. No matter how hard she tried not to let them in.

The song ended and she applauded lightly along with the Cheers crowd, horrified when she found that she was also blinking back tears.

What was this, high school? How could she possibly be crying over something so silly? Who cared if he was singing about her lips, her eyes, her hair, and how he'd longed to kiss her? Her heart beat faster and she willed it to slow down. If only her brain would have given her heart the message.

This had to stop, now.

She took a deep breath and stepped out from behind the bar.

"Russell, may I have a word with you?"

As expected, he smiled warmly and rose from the piano.

"Of course you may, Miss Howe! In fact, you can have as many words as you like, and as many songs as you like! They're right here!" He pointed to his chest. "In my heart, just like you!"

At the melting sighs of the women seated around him, Rebecca rolled her eyes, and grabbed Russell by the arm.

"Hey, where are we going?"

"To my office."

"All right, Rebecca!" Sam shouted, ignoring the death stare she shot at him before slamming the door.

"Something wrong, Miss Howe?"

"Just sit down, Russell."

He did as she asked and stared into her eyes. "I'd do anything for you, Rebecca."

In annoyance she crossed her arms. "Oh, so it's Rebecca now?"

"Well, I figured that we could remain formal when we're in public but when we're alone, it's perfectly all right to go on a first name basis."

"Russell, let me be straight with you. There is no we!"

"I don't understand."

She sighed and sat down taking his hand. "You have to stop this crush!"

"But why?"

"Look, you're attractive, charming, sensitive and there are so many women out there for you. But I'm not one of them! And for God's sake, paint over that mural with my picture on it in your hotel room!"

"But I love you!"

"You're not even 30 years old and I'm... Well... the age I am and it just wouldn't work! And you just met me so there's no way you could be in love with me. It's just a crush, and it has to stop. Do you understand?"

He hung his head in defeat. "Yeah, I understand. I guess my songs didn't mean much so I'll just leave you alone."

"Russell..."

He took her hand and kissed it, then kissed her cheek. "I'm a better person for having known you, Miss Howe."

"Russell, wait..."

As she watched him walk out the door, she had the strangest urge to go to him and apologize. But it would only hurt him more.

It was best this way, telling him up front and if he came into Cheers again, she'd just deal with it. Besides, he lived in Florida which is a heck of a long way from Boston so there was no chance of running into him after he returned home.

She wasn't sure how long she sat there, staring at the door. And that damn song wouldn't leave her mind. It was time to take drastic measures.

Aware of the glances of the Cheers gang as she walked through the bar, she hurried as quickly as possible.

"Hey, Rebecca where are you going so fast?" Sam called.

"Your pantyhose have a run in them? Carla quipped.

Normally Rebecca would have come back with a sarcastic remark but she was on a mission. And no one was going to stop her.

"I have to go out!" She called to the patrons and staff.

"Where are you off to, Rebecca?" Frasier asked.

"None of your business!" Rebecca said in a sing-song voice. And as she reached the door, she could hear Lillith saying something about her answer being a sign of distress.

Well, just because Lillith was a big shot psychiatrist didn't mean that she knew everything about people.

Jumping into her car she pulled out of the parking lot and headed for the hotel. What was the name of it again?

And it was then that she realized she'd left it at home. Why she'd written it down she had no idea but she wasn't about to go back to Cheers and ask Woody. How could she possibly explain that she was inquiring about his cousin?

Minutes later she was rushing into her apartment. When she glanced into the mirror she cringed. Why on earth had she picked this dress?

The green was nice but it did nothing to highlight her eyes. And Russell may have found it attractive but it just wasn't right.

So she rummaged into her closet until she found a black dress with a red flower pattern. It was perfect. Not to dressy but not too casual.

After checking her appearance once more, she grabbed the paper with the address of the hotel and ran out the door.

The hotel was the most awful place she'd ever seen. How could anyone possibly stay here? Still it obviously served its purpose.

The elevator slowly took her up to the fifth floor and she immediately went to room 506. She went to knock, but stopped when she heard loud music coming from his room.

Please don't tell me that he has a woman over...

Determined to do what she had to do, she knocked loudly on the door.

"Russell? It's Rebecca! I know you're in there and whoever is in there with you... Um... just tell them to get out... Um... for a minute! I have something to talk to you about!"

After several more attempts, the music finally stopped and she heard his voice.

"It's open!"

Her hand trembled as she turned the doorknob and went inside.

"Russell, I have something to-."

She stopped in her tracks, gasping at the sight.

"Oh hey, Rebecca!"

Russell was sitting on a ladder, painting the wall. But it wasn't the painting that was there before. Instead of Rebecca's picture it was Carla's. And the letters of Carla's name that were painted above did little to distract the eye from the fact that the likeness was barely dressed.

"Wh-what's this?"

"It's Carla!" he said with a smile as big as Boston. "Isn't she beautiful?"

"I-I guess. But what about-."

"Oh... Right. Well, on my way home, I thought about what you were saying, about how we are incompatible and it wouldn't work out between us. And I realized that you're right. Suddenly I realized that I couldn't stop thinking about Carla and how incredible she looks in that apron when she's serving drinks. What a woman."

"But Carla's..."

"Yeah, I know. She's probably too old but hey, a guy's gotta live a little right? And like you said, there are plenty of women out there for me. Now all I have to do is write her a song."

"A-a-song?"

"Yeah! And it'll be even better than the one I sang to you! Wanna hear it?"

"Um... No. Listen... I-I'd better go. H-have a nice trip home!"

"Actually I'm staying a little longer."

"H-how long?"

"Six months, if they'll let me."

"I'm sure they-well, I should be going now. Goodbye, Russell."

"Goodbye Miss Howe."

The tears blinded her eyes and no sooner had she closed the door and stepped into the hallway, when they unleashed themselves like wildfire.

She sobbed into her hands, hating herself for being so stupid. For getting so attached to a man that she couldn't have.

It always happened this way. When they wanted her, she didn't want them but once she changed her mind, they were gone. And now she was going to have to listen to ridicule from Sam and the gang at Cheers, accompanied no doubt from unwanted advice given by Frasier Crane and Lillith Sternin.

But deep down she'd know what they meant. She always hated "I told you so."

She leaned her head against the wall when suddenly she heard the door open.

Embarrassed she brushed her tears away and turned to see who was there.

"Rebecca? I thought you left. What are you still doing here?"

"Oh... I just... I think I forgot something."

"You mean this?"

He handed her the brown leather purse she'd been carrying, and although she was grateful to him for retrieving it, she wanted more.

So much more.

"Have a nice night, Miss Howe and don't work too-Miss Howe? What's wrong? Why are you crying?"

He opened the door wider for her to come in and made her a drink as she sat on the sofa that she could only guess doubled as a bed.

"I don't know... this is ridiculous, feeling this way about someone I just met!" She cried, sipping the scotch he'd gotten for her out of the mini bar. "You're so young! But when I heard those words, something touched my heart and I can't get you out of my mind. But it seems that you've already moved on, so I'll just go."

She rose from the sofa but his hand on her shoulder encouraged her to sit down again.

"Rebecca wait. I don't love Carla. In fact I don't even really like her."

"Then why did you paint her picture on your hotel room wall? Which is illegal by the way."

"It is?"

"Um, I'm pretty sure."

He took her hands in his. "To tell you the truth, I was so heartbroken when you dumped me, that I picked the first woman I thought of to take your place. But now I know that no one can ever do that."

"Oh, Russell..."

Without thinking, Rebecca threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly, blissfully aware of the sandalwood cologne that he was wearing.

And when they drew back from one another, their eyes met, bringing them closer and closer until he was wrapped in her arms, kissing her again and again.

Breathless, she drew back and stroked his hair.

"Russell, would you do me a favor?"

"Certainly, Miss Howe. I'd do anything for you."

"Um... Okay... I'll give you a choice. You can either sing me that beautiful song or you can kiss me."

He thought for a moment. "Man, that's a hard decision to make, Miss Howe! Kissin' or singing, that's like asking a guy to choose between eating and sleeping! It can't be done!"

"All right. Then you do one and I'll do the other."

"I don't understand."

"Just start singing."

"Your lips dropped by..."

Before he had even finished the first line, her mouth was on his kissing him repeatedly.

And to her amazement, he kept singing.

THE END