Though I've tried before to tell her

Of the feelings I have for her in my heart

Every time that I come near her

I just lose my nerve as I've done from the start

Her hair was sticking to her face, getting in her eyes, and she was brushing it away with an annoyed flip of her hand. The rain was trickling down her neck, sliding across the exposed skin above her ragged old scarf, slipping under her clothes and making her shiver.

Niles held his breath. He found himself paralyzed. His arms fell to his sides, as did his umbrella. His feet would no longer comply, so he stood there in front of Frasier's apartment building, his two-hundred-dollar shoes getting soaked in a puddle of unrelenting Seattle rain. He felt himself waver slightly with the wind, utterly mesmerized by Daphne Moon's sudden and unexpected appearance.

She was bent over what appeared to be a garbage can and she was trying, with a great deal of irritation, to shove two big black garbage bags into it. Her body swayed in time with her movements as she tried to haul one of the bags into the can. Her hips were just slightly outlined through her coat. She persisted, throwing the second bag into the can with surprising strength. She was breathtakingly beautiful, disheveled and in motion and positively tempestuous. She muttered a curse that Niles hadn't even heard before as she got her fingers stuck between the oversized bag and the smallish can. Goodness, she was divine.

With a swift, graceful undulation, she pulled herself free, straightened up and threw her head back, exposing her face to the weeping sky. Delicate rain drops caught in her eyelashes slithered down her cheeks like tears. A smile danced on the corners of her lips and her chest heaved with a contented sigh.

Niles could've stood there forever, unseen and unheard, basking in Daphne's magnificence , reduced to nothing but a shadow – her shadow – and Heavens, what a glorious feeling it was!

But then she shivered again, her small pink nose wrinkling in discomfort, and Niles' legs sprung back to life, propelling him forward, making him step out of his hidden nirvana and into reality's unforgiving harshness. She was shivering in the rain and wind; she could catch a cold.

"Daphne," he called out, his voice shakier than he would've liked.

She turned around slowly, carefully, and her eyes met his.

Electric twists in fiery blue shocks hit Niles Crane with a force that made him stagger and blush deep crimson. He looked away. He always looked away.

"Dr. Crane?" she replied after a moment, pulling up the collar of her coat.

"You must be freezing," Niles held up his umbrella and handed it to her, awkwardly avoiding her gaze.

He felt oddly exposed. The way she had looked at him still sent waves of white-hot emotion coursing through his veins. He couldn't really understand why, but her eyes had spoken to him in an entirely different language this time. Almost as if –

"Thank you, Dr. Crane," she smiled, and her fingers brushed his as she took the umbrella.

Could he tell her? Yes, here, now, it was perfect. He didn't let go of the umbrella. Instead, he gently folded his hand over Daphne's and willed himself to look into her eyes.

It might've been the weather; it was raining, and Daphne found rain awfully romantic.

Maybe it was because of all that chocolate she'd eaten; she had read somewhere that chocolate contains a chemical that causes the brain to feel in love.

Or perhaps it was simply the show she'd watched that morning; Colin Firth was terribly sexy as Mr. Darcy.

Oh, but it was obviously not the rain; it was always raining in Seattle, after all. It couldn't be the chocolate either; she had only had half the portion she usually consumed on days like these. And it wasn't Colin Firth staring at her from across the drenched street: it was Dr. Crane.

Then why was she standing outside on this cold windy afternoon, absolutely awestruck by the man's sudden appearance?

The rain was making his hair stick to his forehead. His coat was already dripping – how long had he been standing there? – and his umbrella lay discarded at his side; it looked like he really didn't mind the wind or the rain. His eyes shied away from her when he noticed she had seen him. His gaze flickered downward, falling onto the shiny pavement.

She called his name. He offered her his umbrella. She took it and thanked him.

"Daphne," he whispered as their eyes met again, "I have to tell you…"

For a single, wonderful second, she was alone with him under the rain. He held her gaze, and she held her breath, and something told her she'd never look at him the same way again.

"Yes, Dr. Crane?" she looked at him with unreserved curiosity, trying to figure out just what was so enchanting about the moment.

He seemed to read something in her expression that made him deflate. "…you're going to catch a cold if you stay out here too long."

She sobered up. Well, it seemed there wasn't anything particularly enchanting about the moment after all. It was just Daphne being Daphne. How silly of her to have thought there could be anything else.

"I suppose you're right," she nodded slowly, struggling to keep the disappointment out of her voice. "Let's get inside."

Whatever magic they had experienced in that moment, they left there, under a cloudy autumn sky, somewhere in Seattle.

Do I have to tell the story

Of a thousand rainy days since we first met?

It's a big enough umbrella

But it's always me that ends up getting wet