It was still early when she arrived home and she was grateful that it appeared that Frasier and Martin were still asleep. After retreating to her room, she took a quick shower. Minutes later she wrapped herself in a towel and paused in front of the full length mirror that hung on the wall of her bedroom. The towel fell to the floor, giving her a chance to survey her reflection. She was tall and lean and had curves in all the right places.
As she closed her eyes, she remembered the feel of his hands as he explored her body and the way it felt to touch him.
Quickly she willed the feeling away and began to dress. It was wrong to dwell on something that was a mistake and it was best to pretend that everything was normal. Fully clothed, she made her way to the kitchen and began preparing breakfast. But it was only when she was carrying the food to the table that she was aware of what she had cooked, and how much food she had made.
Like clockwork, Frasier and Martin walked into the living room, clad in their robes Frasier picked up his paper from the foyer and sat down at the table. Martin followed suit.
"Morning Daphne."
"Good morning Dr. Crane."
"You're up early this morning."
"Yes, I... I wanted to make sure your breakfast was ready."
Frasier's eyes widened at the sight of the abundance of food on the table. "Boy, something smells good. I can just feel the calories attacking my body at this very moment!"
The comment made her feel guilty, but she laughed it off. "Don't worry, Dr. Crane. I have your oat bran and coffee in the kitchen. I'll bring it right out. The rest of the food is for your father but you're more than welcome to-."
"What's all this?" Martin declared. His tone was sharp, and she suddenly became defensive.
"What do you think it is old man? It's your bloody breakfast!"
He gazed at the spread on the table and then returned his attention to her, his expression one of disbelief. "All of this is for me?"
"Yes, even though I'm not sure that you deserve it now."
"Yeah, but… a ham omelet, scrambled eggs, toast, bacon…"
"You're complaining?"
He laughed nervously, glancing at Frasier's look of disapproval. "Well, no of course not, but-."
"Well then…"
"Daphne, with all due respect, I appreciate you making all of this food for Dad, but-."
She held up her hand to stop him. "Now, Dr. Crane. I know what you're going to say and I agree with you. But one meal isn't going to hurt him."
"You're right. I'm sorry Daphne."
"Nothing to be sorry for, Dr. Crane. There's plenty if you'd like some."
"No, that's all right."
She smiled in spite of herself. When she felt Frasier's eyes on her, she looked down at her lap.
"Are you all right Daphne?"
"Oh yes, I'm fine. Why?"
"I don't know. You seem…"
She took a bite of her food, trying to ignore the warmth that had crept into her cheeks. "Do I?"
"Well, frankly yes. Is there something you're not telling us?"
She felt her heart begin to race. "T-tell you?"
"Frasier, leave her alone, all right? It's nice to see her happy. Ever since Sherry-."
Impulsively she reached for Martin's hand. "Mr. Crane, about that… Sherry I mean…"
His expression changed. "What about her?"
"I-I'm sorry about what happened. I really am."
"Ah, don't worry about it. We were drifting apart anyway and after the trouble she caused around here…"
She squeezed his hand. "Well, for what it's worth…"
Finally he smiled. "Thanks, Daphne."
"So Daphne did you enjoy your visit last night?"
She wasn't sure what startled her more, the broken silence or Frasier's question. "What?"
"The note you left us said that your friend needed you…"
"Oh right…"
"So did you get everything taken care of?"
Instantly the memory returned… the feel of his body, the way his mouth felt against hers…
"Daphne?"
She blinked, as the image vanished. "What?"
"I said did you get everything taken care of?"
"Oh… yes… thank you."
"Daphne?"
"Yes?"
"Are you sure you're all right?"
"Leave her alone, Frasier! If she needs to talk to you about it she will! I just want to eat in peace, all right?"
She smiled gratefully at Martin. God bless him.
"I'm fine. Dr. Crane. Thank you." She rose to her feet. "Here, let me get some of these dishes out of the way."
"You don't have to do that."
Her eyes narrowed. "Of course I do. It's my job isn't it?"
"Well, yes, but I meant-."
Quickly she began to gather the breakfast dishes. "It's the least I can do after all that you've done for me, Dr. Crane."
Frasier smiled. "It's been my pleasure, Daphne. And if you don't mind my saying so, it's nice to see you so happy. It seems that going to see your friend worked wonders. I feel like I should thank them in person."
She nearly dropped the dishes from her hands. "NO!"
Both men stared at her and she swallowed hard. "I-I mean, that's not necessary."
"Daphne…"
"What?"
"Are you sure you're all right?"
"Bloody hell, why do you keep asking me that? I'm fine!" She snapped her voice dangerously close to breaking.
"Well, okay. But I'm here if you need me Daphne. I'm sorry for prying. I'm just worried about you."
"I'm fine, really. But thank you Dr. Crane."
"Well, I'm glad you have such a wonderful friend."
She sighed, despite the mixture of guilt and happiness that swirled inside of her. "So am I."