"Oh Roz, that's it. C'mon, get up."

She rises her head, looking behind her back, to find Frasier looking at her, hands on his hips.

"What are you doing here? Go to your blonde Frasier!" she says, in a crying voice.

"Will you stop crying? For god's sake! Nobody died, nobody got hurt. Now get up and get your coat."

"You have a date, Frasier." She points to the door, where she could sense the girl was standing, waiting for him.

"Well, you're going with me."

"I am not going to your date with you, Frasier!" She sighs, rubbing her nose. "Don't I look pathetic enough without showing up as a third wheel in a public place?"

"Fine, then." He says, with a affected voice, sitting by her side again.

"Frasier? The girl is waiting for you!"

"If you're not going, you left me no other choice but to stay here." He says, looking dramatically to the other side.

"Fine, fine. I'll be your damn third wheel. But only because I'm scared of end up smashed on a post because of Noel's night blindness." She says, getting up.

"You have no choice really, you sent him home." he says, getting up and giving his arm to her.

xXx

It was way too late, and the bar wasn't half as crowded as when they got there. Roz and Frasier were laughing loudly, scandalously, while an obviously annoyed blonde by their side observed, with a grumpy face.

"…And then," Frasier tried to finish, but started to laugh again "Bulldog starts to barf and Noel…" he cracks up, and so does Roz. She leans on his shoulder, unable to breathe from laughing. That seemed to be enough; the blonde gets up, irritated.

"You know, Frasier, it's late. I think I'm gonna go home."

"Oh", he says, trying to look disappointed and failing. He brushes tears on his eyes from laughter, and gets up. The blonde nods negatively.

"Stay, you are obviously having a good time." She's very abrupt and Roz notices that the girl is mad.

"Oh, can I call you tomorrow, Tawny?" He smiles at her, hopeful.

"It's better if you don't." The blonde says, as she leaves. Frasier feels disconcerted. Roz's still brushing off tears from her own eyes. She feels bad for him.

"Ouch, Fras." She sips. "I think I've screwed your date. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have come."

"Oh, don't worry about it. A girl who can't laugh at that hilarious Bulldog story is not worth keeping around anyway."

She nods, finishing her glass. Between the SeaBea cocktails and the drinks she had with Frasier at the bar, she was already pretty tipsy. She looks around, and finds a bowl of cherries. She grabs one by its stem.

"Roz, what was the real reason you were so obsessed tonight? I mean, competitivity goes until certain point but..." He's careful on choosing the right words. "…was there anything else underneath it?

She looks at him, finally putting the cherry on her mouth.

"I want proof that I am good enough."

He's intrigued. She swallows, and slowly takes the seed out of her mouth.

"But you are, Roz. There's no point to think otherwise."

She smiles, sadly. "It's easy for you to say. You know why people think I got the producing job in the first place? They think I slept my way through it."

She takes another cherry, biting angrily this time. Frasier observes, fascinated. It's yet another side of Roz he was starting to know.

"I didn't."

He's surprised by how wounded that last sentence came out.

"I know that."

She looks at him, biting the seed. "Yeah... but to everyone else, I'm just the station whore. Doesn't matter the fact that this is my life and nobody should have anything to do with it. I am not ashamed of the way I deal with my life, but people seem to think I should. That's all they see in me."

He listens carefully, without even blinking.

"I just wanted proof that I actually am good at my job, that I deserve my position. Proof to others and to me. But I wanted too much, I guess."

She puts the second seed symmetrically in line to the first one. Frasier can't believe how deep Roz was being. For the first time, she was opening up for him. He wasn't quite sure what to say to help her, though.

"Perhaps some may think you are the station whore Roz." She looks at him, offended. He continues. "But you can't change people's thoughts. People chose how they want to perceive us, and don't matter what we do, they won't ever take that image off." He smiles, putting a friendly arm on her back. "I don't see you that way, for all that matters."

She laughs. "Who would have guessed. Under Doctor Frasier Crane's eyes, I'm not a slut. The fancy, classy psychiatrist is the one to see more than whom I sleep with. Of all people, you're the one to see the real me."

There's something ironic, almost self-deprecating in the way she delivers the sentence.

"I do see you in a different light, Roz. I think you are wonderful."

She smiles, suddenly shy. She stares at one of the stems, absorbed in her own thoughts for a moment. He watches her, hands on his chin.

"I made a fool of myself tonight, didn't I? Acting like a total jerk."

"Not at all, Roz. If anything, I was the fool. Trying to buy my way into the awards was just... Idiotic. Your apparent competitiveness was quite astonishing, to be honest with you."

She bites the stem, intrigued. "How so?"

"Well, it showed a whole different side of you. I thought by now I could read you, but tonight you showed me there's more. It was surprising." He pauses. "And it was actually really attractive, too."

He feels his cheeks turning red, so he chooses to hide himself behind his glass for a moment, taking a long sip. She looks amused; now chewing her stem, Roz looks at him playfully.

"That's very…" She says slowly, finally taking the stem off her mouth. "…flattering, Frasier." She puts the now perfect knot right in front of him. He stares at it, amazed at how she had done it so perfectly and so quickly. "Thanks."

She sees he is surprised at the cherry trick, and she is satisfied with his reaction. They spend a few moments quietly; Roz chews her stems, one by one, making a line of knots that goes to the balcony to his left hand.

"That's very..." he mumbles. She gives him a look, and he knows he doesn't have to finish the sentence. She gets up, suddenly. Giving him a unexpected kiss on his cheeks, she whispers something in his ear.

"There's a lot you still don't know about me, Frasier."

She walks aways, leaving him alone, longing to know more.