Instrumental versions of Christmas music (recorded by only the best symphonies, of course) filled the living room of The Montana as Niles studied a box of Christmas decorations. It was that time of year again and he wanted the place to look spectacular.
The gold-toned strings of bells and the holly wreaths looked classy, but he had used those last year. No, not those. He'd be hosting a Christmas party soon and he didn't want the guests thinking he had so little imagination that he couldn't come up with anything new.
Niles had just completed the finishing touches when he heard the click of the front door opening. He turned, expecting to see the woman who made his life complete walk in with her usual grace—but she flew in like a windstorm.
"Remind me," Daphne said furiously, "to call Simon and apologize for ever saying he's a bad driver. This early snow is making people drive like idiots! I almost went out of me mind!"
"You're home safe, that's all that matters," Niles murmured gratefully, wishing he could give those drivers a piece of his mind for upsetting his beloved.
"I'm going upstairs to clean up a bit. I must look a fright from this weather," Daphne said.
"Nonsense. You're beautiful," Niles insisted.
Dressed in a faded Manchester United sweatshirt, her hair damp and tangled from the wind and snow, Daphne once would have thought he was only trying to make her feel better, but after so many years with Niles, she knew he meant it with all his heart.
"How are Dad and Frasier?" he asked.
"Your father was surprisingly cooperative today, but Frasier was moping about—"
"As if that's anything new," Niles interrupted teasingly.
"Cam Winston got an article published in Wine Spectator," Daphne explained before going upstairs.
While she was gone, Niles flipped through the mail. Most of it was the business related, but an envelope addressed in formal script caught his attention. He opened the envelope and removed a gilt-edged card.
Dr. Niles Crane and Mrs. Daphne Crane are formally invited
to the 15th annual Opera Society Christmas Ball
December 24th
At the Fontaine estate
A grin overtook Niles' features. Frasier would be beside himself when he learned that his brother and his sister-in-law had been invited to one of the most exclusive social events of the year (Frasier had had a feud with an Opera Society member and quit).
"I wish you'd tell me the joke, I could use a laugh."
Niles looked up to see Daphne gazing at him with an amused smile.
"I'm sorry, I didn't know you were here."
"I'm glad I'm so important to you that you don't even notice me," she teased.
"We've been invited to a dinner and dance for the Opera Society," Niles said. "Did you want to go?"
"Niles, that sounds splendid. We haven't been to a formal dance since the Snow Ball!"
In an instant Niles' mind traveled back seven years to that magical evening. The mere privilege of having Daphne in his arms had been enough to make him forget the gossip and false pity of Maris' high-society friends. And what a night it had been; at the time, dancing with Daphne had been all he had ever hoped for. And here he was married to his loving, beautiful dance instructor, more deeply in love with her than ever.
"Niles? Come back to me, Niles!"
"Eh? Sorry, I zoned out for a minute," he answered.
"Can you believe it's been seven years since the Snow Ball? And now me dance partner is me soul mate!"
Touched by her words, Niles drew her close and pressed his cheek against hers. His life with Daphne was so wonderful that, as silly as it seemed, he imagined on occasion that this was all a beautiful dream that he would wake up from.
December 23rd
The evening of the Christmas ball was perfect, the air crisp with snow. Inside their bedroom, Daphne was dressing; she had bought a new dress but refused to show it to Niles until that night. He waited for her patiently and when he heard that familiar tread on the stairs he turned around. The sight that met his eyes stunned him.
Daphne was in a jade-green satin gown that hugged her curves before flowing into a filmy, ankle-length skirt that moved like water when she walked. She had put her silky hair up and secured it with a silver comb; a sprig of holly tucked behind her ear completed the ensemble.
"Daphne, you look amazing," Niles gasped.
"Thank you, Niles," she answered. She gazed at him in turn, smiling at how handsome he was in his tuxedo and dark green bow tie. "You look very sexy."
Niles helped Daphne into her coat and then took her hand.
"Time to go, darling."
The drive took some time due to the frosty roads, but eventually they came to the beautiful Fontaine mansion.
"Welcome, my revered guests," Mr. Fontaine said grandly as the guests entered.
Everyone filed into the dining room for an elegant supper, but it was the dance Niles and Daphne were looking forward to. It took all their patience to pretend they were interested in the "small talk" of the other attendants.
At last the guests were ushered into the lavish ballroom by Mr. Fontaine's butler. Several splendidly decorated Christmas trees had been placed in the room, giving it a festive air
The band was just warming up when a tall blonde woman came up to Niles and smiled rather pompously.
"Why, Niles Crane, fancy seeing you here!"
"Good evening, Marjorie," Niles answered stiffly. "Daphne, this is Marjorie Nash. Marjorie, this is my wife, Daphne."
Daphne tried not to look too curious. So was the woman who had accepted Niles' invitation to the Snow Ball but had stood him up, just when Niles had been at his loneliest. Yet her indignance was mixed with a feeling of triumph. Marjorie had thrown away her chance of a wonderful time with Niles Crane—and it was she who had unexpectedly found herself at Niles' side that night.
"Weren't you…Daphne Moon?" Marjorie asked, her voice almost scornful.
"Yes…" Daphne said cautiously.
"So, you're her," Marjorie said with barely veiled contempt. "I heard about you and Niles having such a good time at the Snow Ball. You created quite a stir, showing off just to spite poor Maris. Apparently two were very…cozy when you were dancing."
Daphne felt her face grow hot, but the band struck up a waltz rendition of 'O Tenenbaum'. Marjorie's nasty words were forgotten as Niles and Daphne melted into each other's arms and sailed across the dance floor. She even snuck in a kiss as she had almost a decade before—but this time it was a lover's kiss, sweet and passionate.
They made their way through several more dances, their favorite being a tango to the tune of 'Feliz Navidad'.
When the band took a break, they made their way to the refreshment table, breathless but blissfully happy. Their happiness was interrupted, however, when they overheard their names.
"Yes, after Maris he married Dr. Karnofsky—you've heard of her, best surgeon in Seattle—but it only lasted three days."
"We don't know the circumstances of the divorce," someone else said, "but Niles Crane could have done better than Frasier Crane's maid when he remarried."
It took all of Niles' self-control not to go to those gossips and tell them what he thought, but he knew that would only humiliate Daphne more. Best not to make a scene.
Still, he was indignant on his wife's behalf. She was far from being just 'the help' (as if that were anything to be ashamed of in the first place!). As a skilled physical therapist, she had worked wonders for Martin Crane. But it was not only her professional skills; she had been like family to them almost from the beginning.
Niles had had enough.
"Daphne, why don't we go out to the garden?" he asked.
"With pleasure," Daphne said through gritted teeth.
They stopped only long enough to take their coats and ask Mr. Fontaine's permission to visit his garden.
The moonlit garden consisted of a sprawling stone courtyard surrounded by flower beds and softly lit water fountains. The sound of the wind in the pines mingled pleasantly with that of splashing water. Niles and Daphne forgot the cruel comments as music floated from the mansion into the still, peaceful evening. Daphne filled Niles' welcoming arms as they started a waltz. It was as if they were the only two people in the world.
As they danced, Daphne felt her husband's soft lips on her neck and the blissful sensation made her shiver more than even the coldest Washington wind could.
"I adore you, Daphne Crane," he whispered, nuzzling her hair and savoring the sweet scent that was connected to so many hopes, dreams, and memories. "My goddess."
He bestowed a deep, tender kiss on her lips and smiled, happy in the knowledge that, this time, Daphne knew he wasn't acting.
"So, what are you hoping to get for Christmas?" Daphne asked idly, interrupting his thoughts. "Besides me," she added, teasing.
Niles could see the loving expression on her face even in the pale moonlight and was overcome with emotion. He desperately wished he could find the words to tell his wife that her playful words had more truth in them than she realized. No gift could be as precious as his Daphne.