Author's Notes:

Dulcey

This began as a small story in an email, and grew from there. It inspired this story, written in countless emails back and forth containing story sections, and comments to each other, usually along the lines of "You can't end there! You suck!" A hundred and thirty pages later, after three months or so, we finally finished. This is in chapters because it's so long-the rest will be up soon. Enjoy.

Danielle's notes:

Well, welcome to our world. I'm very proud of this story and the time spent writing it. It involves wonderful memories, and much laughter as well. Here's to trolls and plus signs. And a special '32' to my wonderful writing partner. ;)

I would like to dedicate this story to the memory of David Angell, one of the people who helped create the two marvelous characters of Frasier and Lilith.

Only Time

By Danielle and Dulcey

I suppose it is generally appropriate to socialize accordingly at one's own dinner party. This, however, is less appealing when the aforementioned dinner party was organized for no purpose other than to take your mind off another, much more distracting concept.

Lilith. And me. In Chicago. Together.

It happened nearly two months ago. And yet... every morning when I wake up, I still reach across my pillow expecting to feel her soft shoulder beside me, and every night when I go to bed, if it so happens that I'm not still on the phone with her, I whisper, "Good-night, my love," just before I drift off... hoping that someday she will hear me.

I scanned the room from my safe corner by the piano, holding my drink and pretending to sip it, and glanced at my watch. Eight thirty-three. I'd probably have to suffer through one more hour, and then I'd be free. Though I would hate to wake her. She'd been sleeping terribly the past few nights, and she wouldn't say why. The more I pursued the issue, she quieter she kept.

Suddenly I heard a distant ringing over the buzz of mingling voices. I thought at first it might be my brain cells frying from boredom, but soon discovered it was the phone on the table in the middle of the room. Voices slowly grew hushed, and by the time I reached the phone, holding it up to my ear, the room was silent.

"Hello?" I stated politely.

"Frasier." She was in an evident downpour of tears.

I panicked, thinking only the worst, all at once. Had something happened to Frederick? Had something happened to *her*? Was she sick? Was she pregnant?

"I'm here, honey. Give me one second," I whispered. "If you'll excuse me for a moment," I asked of the guests, attempting to sound as composed as possible, and quickly stole away to my room, locking the door behind me. "Okay," I told her.

More sniffling.

"Lilith-"

"I had a dream," she blurted.

Slowly adjusting to the light, or lack of it, I loosened my tie, moved towards my bed, and lay down. "Tell me," I whispered.

"I can't!" she sobbed.

"Okay," I replied quickly, hoping she didn't detect the anxiety in my voice. "Okay," I repeated softly. "Then just talk to me."

I heard the ruffling of pillows on the other line, and longed to be in that bed hundreds of miles away, with her. "I'm sorry, I know you have guests."

I smiled and shook my head. "I've been hoping all evening that you'd call. If I hear one more stuffed shirt give accolades to that disastrous production of Turandot, I'll go mad."

She chuckled softly and sniffed again. "Will you talk to me until I fall asleep?"

"Of course I will," I said softly. "You know I'll always be here for you."

I intended to comfort her with this statement, but instead it brought on a new flood of tears. I listened helplessly, unable to take her in my arms and hold her like I wanted. "Oh, honey," I whispered. "Please tell me. I can't stand knowing that you're hurting like this."

Lilith sniffed, and I could hear her bravely trying to pull herself together. "I saw her," she said softly, her voice still quivering.

"Saw who?" I asked gently.

"In my dream," she whispered.

"I don't understand," I said helplessly. "Who did you see?"

She gave a small sigh. "Do you remember when Frederick was about a year old, and I thought I was..."

"I remember," I whispered softly. There had been a few days when we thought she was pregnant, and although we hadn't planned for another child quite so soon, we were ecstatic at the thought of becoming parents again. But it had turned out that we were mistaken, and our disappointment was quickly shelved because it was too painful to think about. We had lots of time, we told ourselves. There would be other children later on. Lilith was crying softly on the other end of the line. "I saw her," she repeated. "In my dream. She had my dark hair, and your blue eyes, and you loved her so much and spoiled her rotten. But she was so sweet...oh, Frasier, we had such a beautiful daughter."

I listened helplessly as she sobbed for the child never born, and the future we planned together, but never had. In the back of my mind, I wondered what on earth had possessed me to move to Seattle, so far away from her.

"Lilith, listen to me," I instructed her. "I want you to do something for me."

She sniffled. "All right."

"I want you to go downstairs and make yourself a cup of tea. Then come back, and talk to me. I'm not going to hang up until you're asleep. All right?"

"Okay," she whispered. "Thank you, Frasier."

I smiled. "You're welcome. I love you, sugar-cookie."

I could almost see her smiling at that old term of endearment. "I love you too, Frasier."

The blankets rustled as she rose from the bed. "God, it's freezing in here," she whispered, toting the cordless phone with her as she made her way downstairs.

I tried to smile. Lilith was always getting cold faster than anyone else. I remembered how stifling it used to be in that house during the summertime. And I only loved her all the more for it. "Put on a sweater," I suggested.

There was a pause, as I imagined the corners of her mouth forming a slow, seductive smile. "How do you know I'm not already wearing one?"

I sighed good-naturedly and shook my head. "Blue satin... no, no-black. Sleeveless. Little ruffles around the top and bottom..."

"It's purple."

"That would have been my next guess."

I smiled to myself as she made her way about the kitchen. "Mint Passion," she muttered to herself.

"I beg your pardon?"

"The tea."

Oh. Right. "Don't get something with caffeine in it," I reminded her. "What does the back of the box say?"

She turned the box around in her hands and flipped a light switch. "Guaranteed to satisfy your nighttime needs."

I couldn't resist. "I once considered getting that tattooed on my... arm."

A quiet chuckle. I breathed a sigh of relief to see her allowing herself a moment of joy. She filled the kettle with water and set it on the stove. "You don't need to have it in writing," she informed me. "I know it's true."

We were silent for a moment as she took a mug and sat down at the table to wait for the tea. I realized I should have kept talking, as she began to sniffle again. "Lilith," I whispered, "I'm sorry we didn't get to have more children."

"Me too," she said softly. "Why didn't we?"

I didn't know how to answer. "I suppose because we were so busy with Frederick, and our careers, and then our marriage hit the rocks and it was too late."

"You're right," she whispered. "I suppose it was all for the best."

I imagined her sitting at the kitchen table, staring into an empty coffee mug and twisting the ring on her right hand the way she always did when something upset her. "Don't ever say that," I lectured her. "I have no regrets about the time we spent together. You are a beautiful, strong, incredible woman, and I'm so lucky to have married you."

"I don't regret it either," Lilith agreed. "Only that it ended how it did."

"Or that it ended at all." There was a pause on the other end of the line, and I knew I had said something I shouldn't have. "Lilith, I'm sorry."

"Don't be," she said softly. "You should never be sorry for what you feel."

"I know we can't go back," I admitted. "We're not the same people we were when we were married."

"No, we can't," Lilith agreed. "But that doesn't mean we can't go forwards. Three months ago, I never would have dreamed that you would have called me to ask my advice on your love life. Or that we would be this close again."

I smiled. "You always know just what to say."

There was a shrill whistle in the background. "Sounds like my tea's ready," Lilith said softly, getting up.

As I waited for her, I rose and poked my head out the bedroom door. The party was still going strong; obviously they didn't need me. I couldn't have been more thrilled. June was still flirting with poor Amos; I felt awful for abandoning him like that. Nonetheless, I couldn't help but laugh at the scene.

"What's so amusing?" Lilith queried, before I remembered she was still on the other line.

I slowly shut the door and crawled back onto the bed. "Oh, this wildly... shall we say, outgoing, young woman from the wine club... she's all over every man out there. Now she's cornered Dr. Hart... poor man's about as timid as they come."

The soft clinking of her spoon against the cup began a steady rhythm. "Every man including you?" she asked softly.

"Oh, certainly," I replied. "I can't even walk in the door without her offering to take my overcoat, and jacket, and... anything else she can get her hands on."

"Oh." Silence. "Then why did you invite her?"

I smiled. "She's a good distraction. For the others, I mean. Whenever someone starts to bore me, I simply guide them in her general direction. Problem solved."

She sighed melodramatically. "Oh, Frasier, I know you better than that. You mean she's there for when *you* get bored."

I propped myself up indignantly on a pillow. "Well, I never-!"

"No, you always!" Her voice softened and she let out a quiet laugh. "Come on, Frasier."

I twisted a loose pillow thread around my finger. "She's not... altogether uncharming," I admitted.

"Pretty?"

"Oh, baby."

I could almost see her eyes rolling.

She stirred her tea once more and set down the spoon. "Why don't you ask her out? And stop fidgeting."

I released the thread on command. She was good. Really good.

"I... I couldn't."

"Why not?"

"Oh, I, well..." And now to think up a plausible excuse... "My timing would be all off. I wouldn't know how to say it."

She shifted positions in her seat, and I had a sudden flashback of how the tiny strap of her nightgown used to slip off her shoulder whenever she leaned over the table. One of the smallest memories I missed most.

"You just need to find a nice segue," she instructed. "For instance, when she's helping you to a charge of public indecency, you could mention how much more appropriate it would be if you'd spent at least ten minutes of the evening together first."

I couldn't help but smile. Her sarcasm managed to mask nearly every bit of sincerity. "Thank you, Lilith, but no."

"You can't mope over Lana forever."

"I'm not moping." I wasn't moping. "I'm just disappointed. And angry. At myself. At... what I can't control," I finished quietly.

She didn't speak for a moment, evidently wondering if she was supposed to know what that meant. "What can't you control?" she whispered at length.

I took in a deep breath, but held it there. I couldn't say this. Not to her.

"Frasier-"

"I can't control the fact that whenever I'm with a woman, all I can think of is that I wish it were you!"

The other end of the line was silent.

"I'm sorry," I quickly apologized. "I wasn't thinking." Yet more silence from her end of the line. "Lilith, are you there?"

"Yes, I'm here," she said softly. "I'm just thinking."

"About what?" I questioned.

"Frasier, I don't think we should go down this road right now," she said quietly. "Remember what happened in Chicago."

"Right," I sighed. "Although it's ironic, when you think about it. Here we are, talking until all hours of the night, we know each other better than anyone else, and yet we can't even sort out what went wrong in our relationship."

Lilith chuckled softly. "That's typical of all psychiatrists. We can solve everyone's problems except for our own."

I smiled. "You can say that again. How many hours did we spend helping Sam with his many girlfriends? Or Woody and Kelly? Or anyone at Cheers, for that matter?"

"Hundreds, I'm sure," she laughed. "Can you imagine how rich we'd be if we'd charged them?"

"We could have bought that house on the Cape that we wanted," I added. "Or that condo in Maui that was for sale."

She gave a small sigh, and I realized that once again, I had said something best left unspoken.

We sat in silence for a moment, not knowing what to say to each other, but unwilling to end the conversation.

"I was too afraid," I suddenly blurted out.

"Afraid of what?" Lilith sounded confused.

"In our relationship. I was afraid of getting too close to you, so I held back. I never let you know how much I really loved you."

"Oh, Frasier," she whispered. "I knew you loved me."

I didn't say anything. Something made me believe her; I knew she wouldn't lie about something like that. "I did," I affirmed softly. "So much." Suddenly I began to wonder, why all of a sudden the past tense? "I... I do now," I corrected myself. "I want you to know that. Always. Nothing will ever change that."

Soft sniffling came from the other end of the line.

"Lilith?"

"I'm sorry," she breathed. "It's just one of those moments where..."

I blinked away a tear. "You wish you could just..."

"Reach out and touch you," she finished. "Frasier, I'm so afraid I'm never going to see you again."

"Oh, honey, that's-"

"But I'm more afraid of what will happen whenever we do see each other again," she whispered.

To be entirely honest, so was I.

"When the time is right..." I whispered, "I want to see you again. I..." I lowered my voice, as though the entire world were listening. "I need to see you again."

She stopped on her way up the stairs and, from what I could tell, slouched down against the wall. "You do?" she breathed.

I nodded, then realized I was on the phone. Nice work. "Yes."

Silence. I almost wondered if I should start to regret what I'd just said... "When the time is right," she repeated.

Yes. When the time was right. Would the time ever be right? There was so much I wanted to say to her, but the only words rolling around on my tongue were... is it now? Is it now? Is it now?

"Is it-" she began, stopping herself.

My heart skipped a beat, and there was silence.

"Frasier..." Her voice quavered, barely audible. "When we were in Chicago, after you fell asleep that night... I wrote you a letter, saying some things I could never have the courage to tell you... and explaining why I wouldn't be there when you woke up."

My forehead crinkled in bewilderment. "But you-"

"Yes, I was still there when you woke up. I threw out the letter. I couldn't go through with it."

I felt my face turn ashen.

She choked back her tears long enough to take one breath. "Frasier, it was a suicide note."

"Oh my God." I drew a ragged breath. "Oh, God, Lilith."

"I'm sorry," she whispered tearfully. "I didn't mean to upset you."

"Oh, God." At this point, my legs gave way and I slid to the floor, clutching my knees to my chest with one arm. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't know how," she said softly. "It's rather complicated."

Something wet splattered onto my hand, and I realized I was crying as well. I wanted to hold her, and never let her go, but the most I could do was clutch the phone until my knuckles turned white. "What would I do without you?" I whispered.

She sniffed. "Now I've made you cry as well."

"Oh, Lilith, why?" I asked, trying not to sound as upset as I felt. "Why?"

"I'm not even sure," she whispered. "All I could think was that there wasn't any reason for me to go on."

"What about Frederick?" I asked. "He needs his mother, especially now. He loves you so much. *I* love you so much. I'd be lost without you, Lilith."

"I know," she said quietly. "I have a wonderful son, and you're the best friend anyone could ask for. I don't know why that's not enough."

"Oh, God." I took a deep breath, trying to slow down my pounding heart. "Lilith, you're not still..."

"No," Lilith answered softly. "I couldn't do that to you and Frederick. I love you too much."

"That's good," I said with relief. "Lilith, I want you to promise me that you won't do anything to yourself without calling me first."

"Frasier, isn't that a little silly? I'm fine."

"No, it's not," I insisted. "Promise me."

"All right. I promise."

"That's my girl." I wanted to hug her, and once again, was frustrated to no end that I could not. "I'm being selfish," I joked half-heartedly. "I couldn't stand not having you in my life."

"Oh, Frasier, you're not selfish," she replied. "You've always been there for me, no matter what. You're missing out on your own party to talk to me tonight."

"Lilith, it wasn't even a choice. There's nothing I'd rather do than talk to you."

"Really?" She was being completely sincere, and it broke my heart.

"Oh, Lilith," I whispered. "I wish I could make you see how wonderful you truly are."

While it hadn't been my intention, this comment only spawned more tears on her part. While I was searching for words to remedy this, she grew quiet long enough to say, "I'm sorry."

"No apologies," I insisted softly. "We should make an agreement to stop saying 'I'm sorry' as often as we do." I reached up to the bed and pulled a pillow down to the floor where I was bunched up. "I know this is all still... unfamiliar... but we have to remember who we're talking to. We were married for five years... I think we know each other better than we'd even like to admit."

She sniffed and stirred her tea. "You're right," she answered quietly. "I suppose," she continued, lowering her voice, "I just wish that the one person who knows me that well could at least be on the same side of the country with me... that's all."

I closed my eyes. I, too, wanted nothing more than to be close to her. Not just for one night in Chicago, but always. I opened my eyes and looked around the dark, empty room. I longed for her to be curled up on the bed. I missed opening the closet door and seeing her clothes next to mine. I missed spending occasional Saturday mornings in bed, alternately napping, talking, and... finding other ways to pass the time. I didn't want to go to bed anymore wondering if I would be able to sleep that night.

"Frasier?" she whispered, reacting to my silence.

"I'm sorry, I... I was just... thinking."

She sighed softly. "I know. It's been on my mind all day."

Had I missed something? "What?"

"To be honest, I didn't even think you'd remember," she went on quickly. "I mean, we haven't actually *celebrated* our anniversary in nearly ten years. I guess it doesn't even count as an anniversary anymore..." she finished in a whisper.

Anniversary...

Oh, dear God.

Today... the fourteenth... of course. How could I have forgotten? "Oh, Lilith..."

There was a substantial silence, until it was broken at length by her half-hearted attempt at a chuckle. "You forgot, didn't you?"

"Of course I didn't!" I exclaimed in an attempt to convince myself as well. "You just caught me off guard, that's all."

"Frasier." Only one word, but the meaning was crystal clear.

"All right," I confessed. "I'm sorry. I forgot."

Her voice trembled a bit. "Well, it's not like we're married anymore. You're allowed to forget these things."

"Oh, Lilith," I whispered. "Anniversary or not, I've still been thinking about you all day. Who knows?" I joked. "Maybe Daphne's rubbed off on me, and now I'm psychic as well."

"Do you remember our third anniversary?" she asked. "When you surprised me with that trip to Hawaii?"

Oh, baby, did I ever. Two weeks in paradise, with clear blue waters and warm sun...not that we got out much to experience them much. I laughed softly. "How many places have we been to, and not seen anything outside of our hotel room?"

"Too many to count," she chuckled. "But I wouldn't have had it any other way."

I would have kissed her if she'd been in the room with me. As it was, all I could do was smile. "I still say that the best anniversary present you gave me was for our first. When you told me you were expecting Frederick."

There was a sniffle on the other end of the line, and I could have kicked myself. What had I brought up children for? "I'm sorry, Lilith."

"No." I could hear her trying to fight off the tears. "Don't be sorry. Frederick was a wonderful gift for both of us."

"He was," I said with a smile. "How's he doing?"

"He wants a tattoo," Lilith informed me. "On his left arm."

I almost dropped the phone. "A TATTOO?" I yelled. "He's still a little boy!"

"He's fourteen," Lilith reminded me. "He'll be driving in two years."

"You don't mean to tell me that you're going to allow our son-our baby-to-"

"No, of course not," she assured me. "It's just a phase he's going through. We've got a good son."

"We do," I agreed. "I wish I hadn't missed out on so much of his childhood."

"He really loves you, Frasier," Lilith whispered. "I know he misses you."

I choked back a tear. "I miss him too," I said softly. "He means so much to me." I pulled my pillow back over to me and began twisting the thread again. "And so does his mother," I whispered.

At this moment, a loud thumping came on my door, and without warning Dad stuck his head in, Eddie in one arm, cane in the other. "Frasier!"

I looked up. "Dad, I'm on the phone." That was me, Captain Obvious.

He shot an evil look towards the direction of the living room. "That girl... May or April or whatever the hell her name is-"

"June."

"Yeah, well, she's all over me!"

I sighed. "Why don't you just go back to your room where you were before?"

"Where do you think she is?!" he retorted.

I heard Lilith chuckling quietly over the phone, and I smiled. "Sorry, angel, just a moment," I whispered into the receiver. "Dad, just introduce her to Mr. Casely, he's been eyeing her all evening and Lord knows she won't turn down anything male that moves."

Grumbling bitterly, Dad made his way back into the hall before returning once more with a bewildered crinkle in his face. "Who are you talking to?" he asked.

"Lilith."

His jaw dropped. "AGAIN?"

I rolled my eyes. "Good-night, Dad."

He looked down the hallway both ways, leaned in towards me and whispered, "Frasier... I know some people who can help."

"Oh for God's sake, Dad!" I hurled a pillow at the door, and he quickly exited to the hall and shut it behind him, shaking his head melodramatically as he left. "You there, moon-pie?" I asked softly.

"I'm here. Your father never fails to amuse."

I sighed. I wanted so badly for her to be here with me, lying next to me on the bed, holding my hand. It was enough to make me hang up the phone and call the airlines right then and there. "I'm sorry everyone can't love you as I do," I told her. "They don't know what they're missing."

"Oh, Frasier," Lilith said softly. "You always know what to say."

I smiled. "That's my job. Someone has to take care of you."

She laughed. "Better you than my mother. Would you believe she called me today to ask if I'd starched the laundry properly?"

I chuckled. "Same old Betty, it sounds like. How is she, anyhow?"

"Crabby." Lilith answered. "And nagging."

"In other words, same as always." I grinned. "You know, I've always wanted to introduce her to Dad, to see what would happen."

Lilith giggled softly. "That would be something to see. I don't think they would last more than two minutes in the same room without killing each other." She paused for a moment. "Either that, or they would get along famously, and tell all the mortifying stories from our childhoods."

I shuddered. There were plenty of skeletons in my closet that I didn't want anyone to discover, least of all my ex-mother-in-law. I didn't even want to think about how she would laugh at the time the football team pantsed me at the homecoming dance my junior year, or when Cody Kelly stole my swimsuit after a poorly performed swan dive, shall we say, liberated it.

Lilith's voice cut into my thoughts. "You're thinking about the swimming pool incident, aren't you?"

My jaw dropped. "I never told you about that!"

She laughed. "Maybe I can read your mind."

"I never told you," I insisted.

"Yes, you did," she told me. "Years ago. Remember that party at the Taylors, when you had eleven martinis?"

"Oh, God," I groaned. "I didn't intend on ever letting anyone know about that."

"Would you believe you told the entire room?"

I slowly hit my head on the wall. "I can't believe it."

"Oh, Frasier, I'm just teasing you," she laughed. "And I've never told a soul about that."

"Well, thank you for that." I began playing with the thread again.

Lilith gave a small sigh. "It's just..." she trailed off.

"It's just what?" I asked.

"Nothing."

"Lilith."

"All right," she sighed. "I was just thinking about that party, and even though I was so embarrassed back then, I'd give anything to have you sing an aria from La Boheme and pass out on the couch again, if it meant we could be as happy as we were back then."

I let myself fall back against the bed, and let out a quiet sigh.

"Frasier, I'm-"

"I wouldn't mind passing out on the couch, if I knew you'd be there beside me when I woke up," I told her, and for a moment there was silence. "I miss that," I went on softly. "Having you take care of me."

She drew in a slow breath. "You do?"

"Every day," I whispered.

At length, she rose from her position on the stairs and quietly crept back to her room. "Frasier?"

"Oh, dammit, my pillow's unraveling," I muttered randomly. I looked down at the cushion, and sure enough, the thread had become a mile long and the pillow was now missing an entire tassel. "I'm sorry, love, what did you say?"

She chuckled softly. "I... I don't know."

"Come on."

I heard the familiar creaking of her bed as she crawled into it, and suddenly wished nothing more than to be curled up in it beside her. "I was just... thinking. But never mind. I shouldn't have been."

"Lilith..."

"Just forget I said anything."

"Please. Tell me," I insisted, although my anxiety was rising by the second.

"I was just... thinking... that..." She stopped.

"That..."

"If you ever... I mean, if we ever... I mean, next time we-that is, if we-see each other... again. Someday. I just... hope you'll let me take care of you then. Because I miss it too," she concluded, her voice dwindling to a whisper.

"Someday..." I echoed absent-mindedly. I didn't want it to be someday. I wanted it to be now. I was ready. I was ready to see her again. I wanted to start over. Forget what happened last time... I knew this was right. It would work.

But how could I tell *her* that?

...I couldn't.

I got on my hands and knees and awkwardly reached under my bed, fumbling around for the shoebox I kept down there. This box was the reason I had forbidden Daphne to clean under there, or even look, for that matter. At last, I found the familiar, beat-up box and pulled it out, reaching inside for the contents with one hand while cradling the phone to my ear with the other.

And there they were. Honeymoon photos. I had unintentionally packed them in with my things when I moved to Seattle, and never had the heart to throw them out. We looked so happy in these photos, which were absolutely ridiculous; Lilith brushing her teeth, me with a bottle of Tequila, and an absolutely priceless shot of Lilith's expression when she woke up after a nap on the beach to discover that I had buried her in sand.

"Frasier?" Lilith repeated.

I snapped back to attention. "Sorry, jelly-bean. I'm here."

"Do you think we could ever work things out?" she asked softly.

I wanted to say yes. I wanted to take her in my arms and kiss her and tell her I'd never leave her again. But I couldn't say it. "I hope so," I whispered, hoping she could find some comfort in that.

"I saw the Sheldons a few weeks ago," she told me. They had been friends of ours back in Boston, and their daughter Katie was two months older than Frederick. "They have three more children. Did you know that?"

"No, I didn't," I answered. "I'm happy for them."

Lilith sniffled. "I am too. It's just that seeing them made me remember everything we had planned to do."

"Like have more children?" I asked softly.

She nodded. "Yes, and take Frederick to see Europe, and buy that summer home on the Cape. Everything we wanted to do when our children were older."

"And grow old together," I added quietly. "Spending long, peaceful days together, and looking forward to our grandchildren visiting."

"I wonder if we'll ever get to do that," she mused.

"I don't know."

There was a long silence. I flipped through more snapshots. Me looking like a lobster with the horrible sunburn I'd gotten on our second day there. Lilith soaking wet after I'd thrown her into the ocean. A photo someone had snapped of us singing karaoke together in a local bar.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

I now discovered the rustling of photos was more audible than I had thought. "I'm just... nothing. Looking at pictures."

"Of what?"

"Our honeymoon," I answered nonchalantly, much too engrossed in a candid shot of the two of us making out on the beach at night... some imbecile surfer had snatched up my camera while we were thus occupied and began snapping wildly. After chasing him half a mile down the beach, I retrieved my camera, and had doubles made.

She gasped. "You have those?"

"Of course I do!" She was silent, and I put down the picture. "...Lilith?"

"I looked for those after you left," she whispered. "I couldn't find them, so I'd assumed you'd thrown them away."

I choked back a tear. "I could never..."

"I want copies."

I tried to smile. "I'll get them made tomorrow."

I tried to imagine her face light up, as it tended to do at preciously random moments. "Thank you. Although... instead of mailing them, it might just be cheaper to-" She stopped herself.

"Email them?" I suggested.

She was silent for a moment, until I almost felt compelled to say more. "Um... yes."

"That's not what you were going to say, is it?"

"No." The bedcovers rustled, and took a deep breath. "Are you going to the APA conference next month?"

Oh, God help me, I certainly was... a week in Los Angeles surrounded by a bunch of stuffed shirts spewing out opinions and interpretations their latest finds in pop psychology. Eight lectures, two benefits, and a dinner at the end of the week. I was only going because I'd heard the author of a remarkable new book I'd just read was going to be speaking there. Otherwise I would have rather driven to hell in a fast car and stayed there.

"Yes," I replied sulkily. "Dr. Bradshaw is going to be there... I think you told me you were as fascinated with his book as I was-"

"I already have my ticket," she blurted.

A thousand thoughts raced through my head, and I found myself incapable of putting any of them into words. I was exhilarated. I was nervous. I was euphoric. And I was terrified. Oh, God, was I ever terrified.

"Frasier?" Lilith asked. "Are you all right?"

"Oh. Yes. All right. Fine," I stuttered.

"I meant, are you all right with this?" she whispered.

"I will be," I answered softly. "You just caught me by surprise."

"What are we going to do?" Lilith asked. "About everything."

"I don't know." I had never entertained the possibility of ending up at the same conference as Lilith. If I had, I might have had an inkling of what to do. As it was, I sat picking lint off of my carpet and flicking it across the room. My God, when was the last time Daphne vacuumed in here?

"Frasier, don't do this," Lilith admonished. "Don't freeze up on me. I..." Her voice died down to a whisper. "I can't bear it."

"Of course not," I tried to assure her, still flicking lint. "We'll just have to avoid temptation, that's all."

"That's what you said last time." She was right. We had tried to hold ourselves back during our Chicago encounter, but hadn't even made it through the night.

"It'll be different this time," I tried to convince her. "We'll be in lectures all day, the evenings will be filled with conference activities, and there will be hundreds of other shrinks around. If we don't go off by ourselves, we'll be fine."

"I suppose you're right," she admitted. "It's like they say, there's safety in numbers."

It was a perfectly logical plan, with only one flaw. I hated it. In the months since Chicago, I'd dreamed about being alone with Lilith, of smelling her perfume and running my fingers through her dark silky hair. What I hadn't dreamed about was making polite conversation with her while a dozen brainless quacks tried to convince us of the healing powers of Caribbean sand.

"You don't like it much, do you?" Lilith asked quietly.

I shook my head. "No. But if that's what we have to do, so be it."

"Are you as scared as I am?" she whispered.

"More," I replied. "But not nearly enough to keep me away."

"Me either," she agreed. "Seeing you again will be worth whatever happens."

I wanted to kiss her, but since we were over three thousand miles apart, all I could do was laugh softly. "I couldn't agree more."

Lilith sipped her tea and sighed. "I don't know if I can wait two weeks," she mused. "I've missed you nonstop since Chicago."

"Lilith," I stated, summoning all my courage, "I don't want to stay around hundreds of other people the whole time. I want to take you out somewhere... at least once. To dinner, or... wherever. Just us. Alone." I paused, wondering if I had said too much, and suddenly thinking I shouldn't have said anything at all.

"I was hoping you'd say that," she whispered shyly. She cleared her throat, attempting to snap out of the moment we found ourselves in, and went on. "So what room are you going to be in?"

"Three thirty-five," I replied.

Silence.

"You're four doors down from me," she informed me.

I gulped. "Well," I began shakily. "Won't that be... convenient." Wait a minute. "I mean, for when we-if we... when I take you out to dinner, or if we... wanted to go down together... downSTAIRS, that is, to the... uh, the lectures..." Oh, yes. Smoothly executed, Frasier.

"I know what you mean," she answered quickly, most likely for fear that I would only be getting worse with each blunder I made.

I grabbed my pillow began on a new tassel. "Things are... things are going to be different," I said quietly, not quite sure what I meant, but saying it more to convince myself than her.

"Different from what?" she asked.

That was a good question. "I... I don't know," I admitted.

She was silent for a moment. "You know what I wish?" she whispered after a spell. "I wish they could be just like they are now... because this is perfect. I don't want to be terrified of being alone with you."

"Are you?"

The spoon clinked against her glass. "No. I'm not."

My heart skipped a beat. She wasn't. She wasn't?

"I want nothing more than to be alone with you," she went on, with a fortitude I wasn't expecting. "But I know we need to... wait. Timing, and all that..."

This time, instead of skipping a beat, it sank. "Timing," I echoed softly. "Right." Of course. Stop it, Frasier.

"How did this happen?" Lilith asked quietly.

"How did what happen?"

"Everything!" she exclaimed. "We never used to be afraid. We could talk about anything and everything, but now...we're so frightened of losing the relationship we do have that we don't say half of what we're thinking."

"I know," I said softly. "I suppose that's what happens after almost ten years of living across the country from each other."

Lilith sighed. "Whatever it is, I hate it. I feel like I keep losing more and more of you, and I'm scared that soon there'll be nothing left."

"Don't say that," I whispered. "You know you'll always be important to me."

"Do you think this time will be different?" she asked.

"I don't know," I said softly. "I hope so."

"If it turns out like Chicago did, I don't know if I could stand it," Lilith said so softly that I had to strain to hear her.

Warning bells went off in my head. "Oh, God, Lilith," I whispered. "I can't make any promises about what will or won't happen in Los Angeles, but no matter what, I'm always going to be here when you need me."

When she answered, her voice shook just the tiniest bit. "Why are you so good to me, after everything that's happened?"

"Because I love you!" I exclaimed. "And not just because you're the mother of my son, although Frederick was the best present anyone's ever given me. I love you because you're so strong-willed and amazing and beautiful. You're the most incredible person I've ever known, and I've been blessed to
have you in my life."

There was a pause on the other end of the line, and I was beginning to wonder whether I had said the wrong thing. "Lilith?" I asked nervously.

When she spoke, it was clear she was crying again. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to hear that."

"Oh, sweetheart," I whispered. "I'm sorry I haven't said it more. If it matters, I think it every single day."

She sniffed. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Well, you'll never have to find out," I assured her. "You know I'll always be here for you."

For a moment, she didn't say anything... if we had been face to face, she probably would have been staring at me with her 'How can you say that?' gaze. "But that's just it," she began. "How can you be here for me? I can't even hold your hand, or hug you, or kiss you... hearing your voice gets me through the day, but..."

"It's not enough," I finished for her.

"No... it's not." She sniffed quietly. "Let's not think about that. Tell me what you did today."

I sighed noticeably. "Lilith..."

Her voice possessed a newfound resolution. "We're complaining that we can't talk to each other," she stated. "I know it's not true. Talk to me."

Why was this so hard? What was I so afraid of? "I went to the bank," I suddenly blurted out. Oh, nice, Frasier. Very romantic.

She chuckled. "Good. Remember how you'd always ask the teller for a lollypop for Frederick when he was too young to even eat it, and you'd bring it home to me instead?"

"If I didn't eat it myself first," I reminded her. "And you know what happened this morning? This woman didn't speak a syllable of English, naturally... just my luck. So instead of making a deposit, apparently I ended up opening two new checking accounts."

"Two? Oh, how convenient." I could almost see her smiling.

"Indeed," I noted. "Then I decided to go to the video store to rent a foreign film I'd heard marvelous things about... and decided against it when I discovered the twenty dollars in late fees on my account."

"Oh, from our movie week!" she exclaimed. It had been a most memorable time. A few weeks ago, Lilith and I rented all the same movies-old romantic favorites and the occasional volume from the satirical Red Shoe Diaries-and watched them together, all week.

"Right," I said. "Of course, the highlight was when the cashier proceeded to list all the movies I owed money on, loud enough for the entire store to hear."

She burst out laughing. "Oh, Frasier."

"I was mortified."

"You think that's bad?" she challenged. "Frederick found my pile of movies by the door. I had to tell him it was research for the lab."

I grinned. "Did he buy it?"

"Who knows."

My heart suddenly stopped, and I fell silent. "Lilith..." I began. "We're..."

She took a deep breath. "Yes... we are."

I knew we could talk to each other. I knew that wasn't gone. And suddenly, I wanted to take her in my arms and kiss her the way I used to, years ago, in front of everyone, at random moments...

"Thank you, Frasier," she whispered.

"Roxane, adieu! I soon must die!" I whispered, quoting from one of our favorite movies. " This very night, beloved; and I feel my soul heavy with love untold. I die! No more, as in days of old, my loving, longing eyes will feast on your least gesture-ay, the least!"

"I love that movie," Lilith said softly.

"I mind me the way you touch your cheek with your finger, softly, as you speak! Ah me! I know that gesture well! My heart cries out!-I cry 'Farewell'!"

"The soul, it was your soul," she whispered, continuing on with the scene.

I shook my head. "I loved you not."

"You loved me!" she insisted.

My voice shook. "No!"

"See, how you falter now," she said softly.

A tear ran down my cheek. "No, my sweet love, I never loved you."

"Things dead, long dead, see! how they rise again!" she said quietly. "-Why, why keep silence all these fourteen years, when, on this letter, which he never wrote, the tears were your tears?"

There was a long silence. "Wow," I finally said. "How many times have we seen that movie?"

"Three times last month," Lilith answered. "Or hundreds, if you count when we were married."

"I hadn't seen it in years," I mused. "Probably because it always reminded me of you." There was no reply from her end of the phone, and I began to wonder if I'd said the wrong thing. "Well, I told you about my day. How was yours?"

She sighed. "Rather ordinary. I went to work, came home, helped Frederick with his homework. Nothing special." She paused for a moment. "Actually, there was one notable incident. Guess who I ran into?"

I shrugged. "I'm horrible at guessing. Who?"

"Carla's son, Ludlow."

I remembered him right away. My mentor's son with Carla, whom Lilith and I had babysat for a few weeks while attempting to decide whether or not we wanted children. "Lud!" I exclaimed. "What's he up to?"

Lilith smiled. "He's going to start college soon. Apparently he got a scholarship to some school in Connecticut. He said to tell you he's sorry about the hotfoot incident."

I laughed. "Well, no harm done. My God, I can't believe he's in college already."

"I can't believe Frederick's almost fourteen," Lilith said quietly. "It seems like just yesterday he was a baby."

I sighed quietly to myself. "I feel like I've missed so much," I reflected. "Where has the time gone? What have we been doing? It seems like everything's just flown by in a blur."

"Well, do you think it would have gone slower for us if we'd been together?"

"Not slower... just better," I whispered. It wasn't long before I knew that was something I should have confined to my inner thoughts. "I mean-"

"It's getting late," she stated calmly, stirring her tea. "You should get back to your guests."

"I don't want to," I whined.

"Well, go anyway," she insisted in a tone that almost made me suspect she wanted to be left alone, until she added, "Call me later?"

I smiled, before blinking back a tear. I hated saying good-bye to her, even if it was only for an hour. It only reminded me of all the previous times I'd had to say good-bye... when I left for Seattle, when I came home from Chicago... and every single time we spoke on the phone.

"You don't have to say good-bye," she whispered, and a chill ran down my spine... to think we knew each other just that well.

"Okay. I'll talk to you soon." She answered in agreement, and as I was about to put down the receiver, I stopped. "Lilith?"

"Hmm?"

At the risk of saying yet another thing I should have kept to myself... at the risk of tearing down the wall of casual conversation we were attempting to build... "I can't wait to see you."

"Me neither."

When I finally mustered the strength to leave my room and return to the living room, I noticed something rather odd. Everyone was gone.

Dad walked in from the hallway. "Oh, there you are. Everyone got bored and left."

Fat chance. "What did you do to them?!" I exclaimed.

"Nothing! I was just showing them some of Eddie's new tricks."

Ah. That explained it. Well, there was always a shred of hope left... "What about June?"

"Went home with the caterer."

My jaw dropped. "The Hungarian girl?!"

Dad smiled wickedly. "I guess she likes foreigners."

I marched straight back to my room and grabbed the phone, punched '4' on my speed dial, and waited for one ring... two... three...