A/N: Hey, I'm back writing! I've been pretty busy lately, and haven't been able to update much, but I was able to finish this one tonight, so here it comes. The usual: none of the characters are mine, yadda yadda yadda. My personal take on the missing scene from "The Guilty Trippers". Reviews are always welcome :)
She feels comfortable with him.
Even if they're just watching some boring Frasier-like movie, she even feels.. safe with him. She sips her wine, not paying attention at all on the TV, and looks at him. It was almost entertaining to watch him genuinely interested in that movie. She could see he had seen it before; he recited the words, acting the scenes unconsciously. What a weird guy, she thinks, smiling.
And caring, too. Kind.
All the words she had said to him that evening were true. He was a catch. He was what all women look for. He sure was what she was looking for… no, that's crazy, she tells herself shaking her head. He's Frasier. That was the wine talking. She couldn't possibly imagine him as anything more than what he was to her... could she?
She sips again, thoughts swarming in her already tipsy mind. It's not like she had never thought about him in that way. There were moments where she could swear his actions were more than a coworker's, more than a friend's. There were moments where she had felt sparkles running through her body only by looking at each other. There was certainly some… tension around them-
She realizes she's been staring at him for a long time. She looks away, blushing. Frasier was so good for her. He has always been there for her. Proof was tonight. She approaches him discretely, looking for his warmth. He puts his arm around her, without taking his eyes from the movie.
Maybe she's heartbroken, maybe she's just feeling lonely. But his touch lights a fire on her, making her feel safe. There was that word again, she thinks. But it's what Frasier means to her. Safety. Security.
She finishes her glass of wine, and lays her head on his shoulder.
"You're a good friend, Frasier. Thanks for… being here, again."
He takes his eyes off the movie for the first time since it had started, and looks at her, smiling tenderly.
"You're gonna find someone as great as you, Roz. Someone who treats you the way you deserve. Who appreciates you for who you truly are."
She swallows, emerged on thoughts. His attention is dragged to the tv again. A few minutes passed by, silently.
"Frasier?"
"Hm?"
"I... don't wanna be alone tonight."
Her mouth feels dry; she's not sure where she is stepping into.
"Oh, I'm sure you can use Daphne's old room.." he begins, eyes on the movie.
"Frasier?" she interrupts, and looks at him. "I dont wanna be alone tonight." She repeats, hoping to god he gets it this time.
He slowly turns his head to her, with a curious, yet scared look on his face. She takes the glass of wine off his hand, puts it in the coffee table, never breaking the eye contact. She can see he's surprised. He doesn't know how to act. She turns to him. Both do a slow dance, where each move can be dangerous if not done precisely. Frasier puts his hand on her cheek, so close that their noses are touching, their lips inches apart. She closes her eyes and lock her lips on his.
Their first kiss is tender, almost chaste. It feels like forever before their mouths get apart. She opens her eyes, only to find blue ones staring back at her. She puts her hand in his neck, dragging him to her again.
The second time around was different. Eager, passionate. His tongue explores her mouth, and she almost can't breathe. He slide his hands to her waist, pulling her closer.
She feels hot and dizzy. Frasier was nothing like she expected. Sure, they had kissed before, but never in a true situation. Nothing like this, she thought, sinking in his warmth.
They break the kiss, breathless. They look at each other for long a moment before he gets up. She starts to think he is already regretting, wondering if that was a big mistake. He suddenly takes her hand, and helps her get up.
She's confused. What were those mixed signals?
"Roz..." he tries, but his face tells her all she needs to know. He isn't regretting it; he's giving her space. He wants her to decide what their next move is. To make sure she knows he's not taking advantage.
"I don't want to be alone tonight", she finds herself saying for a third time. He smiles, and without letting go off her hand, guides her to his bedroom, closing the door.
She goes to him for the third time, feeling a rush from her body. Her hands search for his skin, as she pulls up his sweater. Never parting their lips, she passes her hands through his now bare chest. He takes off her blouse, and starts to kiss her neck. Oh, her soft spot. Frasier crane does listen, after all.
As he unbuttons her bra, she reaches for his belt. He stops her, pulling her close, pressing her now bare breasts onto him, skin against skin. Going back to her neck, he whispers in her ear, with that low radio voice "There's no rush", and that makes her dizzy.
She throws her hands around his neck, kissing him slowly as his hands draw small circles on her back, giving her chills. Frasier drowns her to the bed, never parting the kiss, and ends up falling on top of her. Her hands goes from his neck to his shoulders, while his mouth makes its way. Opening her eyes, Roz smiles. Feeling not only the fire from his passionate kisses, but the warmth and tenderness she was so familiar with. It was a strange combination, one she had never experienced before, and yet felt completely comfortable with. She moans into his neck as he explores her body, hands and mouth working fully.
She's eager for him. Taking off her skirt, she tries to unbutton his belt again. Frasier stops, letting her go. Roz's surprised. He sits her in his bed, and starts to take off her boots, making her more and more aroused. With his hands on her hips now, he slowly takes off her panties, placing kisses all over her now naked body.
He wants to please Roz, giving her everything she deserves. She moans as he gets where he wants. She passes her hands through his hair, moaning louder, and lusting for him.
"Now", she whispers, and it is all it takes for him to finally get off his clothes. He leans to her, knowing that she is finally ready.
She embraces him, and with their bodies entwined, they start moving in different rhythms, sometimes slow, sometimes frenetic, in a strange dance.
Cause that night, they were just one.
