Frasier woke a short time later and was on the phone for hours, trying desperately to contact the airlines once more. But each time he tried, he was told that there were no available flights to the Emerald City for several days.

"Several DAYS?" He yelled into the phone. "Dear God, what is so important about Seattle that you can't find one single flight? This isn't a leisurely trip for God's sake! It's..." His voice trailed away, leaving a painful ache in his chest. It was no use shouting at the reservation agent. As he'd so often told his patients, angry outbursts rarely got a person anywhere.

"I'm sorry, Sir." The reservation agent said. "Apparently there's some sort of sporting event taking place in Seattle. Quite honestly I've never seen anything like this before. Must be some game. We've never had a demand for Seattle flights at this time of year. Not since I've been working here anyway."

Frasier sighed deeply. "The Sonics... Damn! I should have known!"

"Excuse me, Sir?"

"Nothing, Nothing." He grumbled.

Damn it. His father could be dying and his brother was scared and hurting. But because of some ridiculous basketball phenomenon Frasier couldn't get a flight to his childhood home! It should be against the law for airlines to discriminate against non-sports fans; especially in a situation as dire as this one.

Had they no shame?

Suddenly he wished that the Sonics had never won that absurd championship. The fact that they won a game at all was a miracle in itself.

How he knew about it in the first place was an even bigger miracle, for he was the last person on earth (with the exception of Niles) who would watch a basketball game, let alone pay attention to sports at all.

If it weren't for the fact that he'd been watching CNN just days before, he wouldn't have known about it at all. But he was anxious to see the news story about the scandal involving a professor at Harvard Law School.

He knew it was wrong to watch such drivel, because most likely the story was fabricated. But for some reason it fascinated him and he found that he couldn't get enough of it.

So against the protests of his friends at Cheers, he'd insisted that Sam turn the station to CNN where he was disgusted to find that instead of the news story he'd been so anxious to catch, he was subjected to endless banter about the beloved Seattle Supersonics and the story of their rise fame that resulted in their glorious victory.

The Boston Globe headline practically screamed the word Seattle Supersonics Win Championship, and he cringed at the thought of what the Seattle Times or the Seattle PI's headlines must look like. If Boston had gone to this much trouble to emulate the Sonics, once could only wonder how Seattle was celebrating.

His father had to have been ecstatic to say the least. The man lived and breathed sports and was forever coaxing his sons to do the same. Fortunately Niles and Frasier knew better than to participate in such nonsense.

Frasier could just picture his father, Martin Crane, sitting in that God awful green patterned excuse for a chair elated beyond measure as he cheered on his beloved team.

The thought of that hideous chair made Frasier's stomach churn. There was no way he would ever allow a piece of furniture that atrocious in his home. And thank God he would never have to.

"Sir, are you still there?"

"What? Oh, yes. Yes." He said, suddenly realizing that he was still on the phone.

"I'm sorry. There are no flights to Seattle. Although..."

Forgetting all about the basketball game, Frasier focused his full attention on the phone conversation. "Although... what?"

"Well, I could get you a flight later today, but..."

"But what? Please? I'll do anything! I... I'll pay anything!" He pleaded. "Just... tell me what I have to do!"

She sighed deeply. "I'm not really supposed to do this, but you seem upset."

"I do, do I?" He yelled. "Well that's where you're wrong because you haven't seen me upset! Not by a long shot! And speaking of shots... While you people are... counting your profits... my father is lying in a Seattle hospital... d-dying! You see... he was...um...is... a Seattle police officer...um... homicide detective and, well... Oh, it doesn't matter how it happened! The point is that my little brother, a well-respected psychiatrist, is there all alone, beside himself with worry and I'm here in Boston... helpless! How do you think that makes me feel?"

"I'm sure that's upsetting, Sir."

"Upsetting? Upsetting? Is that all you can say?" He yelled. "Upsetting is when your girlfriend or boyfriend dumps you or you lose your job! This is... my father and... Well, we haven't gotten along in years. In fact, I haven't seen him since Niles married that... that shrew of a wife... Dear God, what could he possibly see in that woman?"

"Sir? Sir?" The reservation agent interrupted

"WHAT?" He yelled.

The reservation agent took a deep breath. "Sir, I am extremely sorry about your father and I hope he makes a full recovery."

Touched by her words, Frasier felt himself begin to relax.

"Thank you. And I'm sorry for my emotional outburst. I just feel so... helpless. But I guess there's nothing I can do. I'll just call Niles and explain... somehow."

Reluctantly he moved to hang up the phone when he heard the tinny voice of the reservation agent calling his name.

"Yes?" He said carefully.

"Like I said before, there is one thing I can do. I'm not supposed to do this and I could lose my job, but-."

"I swear, I won't breathe a word." Frasier assured her.

"Well... I do have a flight that leaves at 4pm, but it's a bereavement fare... Thirteen hundred dollars... and it's not a direct flight. In fact, there are two stops. One in Dallas and one in Phoenix. It might take several hours to get there."

"I'll take it." Frasier said without hesitation. "Although I must admit that thirteen hundred dollars for a flight to Seattle is rather high."

"I know, Sir."
"A-and stops in Dallas and Phoenix?" Why... that would take me all day! I-I mean... I wouldn't get there until..."
"I know it's long, but that's all I can do. I'm sorry, Sir."
"No... I'm sorry. I guess getting there is the most important thing. I'll inform my wi-my soon-to be ex-wife and my son that I'll be leaving this afternoon. And then I'll call my brother."
"I'm happy to help you Sir."
"Thank you so much. May I have your name?"
"Oh... It's Melinda."

Frasier smiled. "Melinda. What a beautiful name! And I have no doubt that your looks are just as lovely because your personality certainly is."

He could almost see her blushing through the phone.

"Thank you, Sir. M-may I have your credit card information, please?"
"Oh... Of course."
After giving Melinda the information and getting his flight information in return, he thanked her profusely and hung up the phone.

He was grateful that he had packed earlier for he was certainly not in the mood to think of such things now. Instead his mind was on his family.

He may not have been close to Niles or his father, but suddenly he realized how much he missed them.