My Coy Mistress

by Regina L

Niles & Daphne discover that taking romantic advice from Roz & Frasier is rather risky.

My Coy Mistress          by Regina

Timeframe:  About six months after "I'll See You Again."

                                    Had we but world enough, and time,

                                    This coyness, Lady, were no crime.

                                    We would sit down, and think which way

                                    To walk, and pass our long love's day.

                                    Thou by the Indian Ganges' side

                                    Shouldst rubies find:  I by the tide

                                    Of Humber would complain.

                                                Andrew Marvell, "To His Coy Mistress"

           

            "Roz! How are you?  I'm so glad you could meet me for a coffee—I really do need to talk to you."

            "No problem, Daphne, you know that."

            Roz Doyle studied her friend as Daphne Moon sat down at the small table in Café Nervosa.  Roz contemplated afresh at how beautiful Daphne had looked since her return from England.    Her hair shone, her skin glowed, and she radiated an aura of general vibrancy that seemed to envelope anyone near her.  Good God, that big doily has been the perfect vitamin shot for Daph, mused Roz.  Disturbed at her turn of thought, especially an unexpected flutter of envy, Roz gulped a sip of cappuccino as Daphne took a deep breath and begin to speak.

            "Look, the reason I need to talk to you is that I've gotten rather anxious about something, and I figured you were the one person who could give me good advice."

            "Ah ha!"  Roz allowed herself a Cheshire cat grin.  "Sex, huh?  Don't tell me your lusty little love god is suddenly off his form!  Or is Niles now failing to rise to the occasion consistently?  Come on, Daphne, tell it all!"

            Daphne looked Roz straight in the eye, a flash of annoyance showing.  "Don't be bitchy, you!  For your information, our sex life is fantastic—better than yours, I think—not that I'm wanting to broadcast that fact to the rest of the bloody café, unlike your willingness to share."

            Roz gulped more cappuccino to stifle her grimace.  "OK, yeah, I deserve that.  Great that everything is fabulous.  So what can I help you with?"

            "Well . . ." Daphne paused, and continued in a calm voice.  "You see, I've always been more than a little concerned about boredom kicking in, so even though the sex is wonderful, I wanted some suggestions on keeping it that way."

            Roz leaned back in her chair and allowed the most wicked smile she possessed to spread over her entire face.  "First, Daphne, you have to admit how far you can take this.  Just how vanilla—or kinky—is the younger Dr. Crane?  I've always had some suspicions about where that crazy little neurotic is willing to go.  What about mink-lined handcuffs—I've got a pair you can borrow.  Or fruit-flavored whipped cream—you know he'd love that . . ."

            "Roz, stop it!"  Daphne's eyes glared protectively.

            "Oh, come on, Daphne, think about it!  The possibilities are endless!  If you really want to send him into orbit, you can lay in wait for him in a darkened apartment, jump him, blindfold him, and tie him spread-eagled to the bed--"

            "ROZ!!"

            Roz broke off with a whiskey laugh and patted Daphne's hand.  "I'm sorry, Daph—it's not you, you know, it's Niles.  It's great you two are so happy together, but it still freaks me out when I start picturing Niles doing the deed, especially with you."

            "Fine," Daphne said tartly, "just try to visualize me with somebody else.  Can you help me a little here, yes or no?"

            "Yeah, I can.  Give me a minute to think."

            Roz took a deep swig from her cup as Daphne waited patiently.  After thirty seconds of silence, Roz looked at Daphne thoughtfully.  "A question—which you may not want to answer.  How often?  Honesty is required."

            Daphne giggled as she stirred more sugar into her coffee.  "If you of all people must know, usually at least four times a week since I got back, and oftentimes more, especially on the weekends.  There've been several Saturdays when I barely set foot outside our bedroom, much less the Montana.  Surprised?"

            Roz whistled softly.  "Damn!  You bet I am!  I never would have guessed Niles had that kind of stuff in him!  What the hell are you feeding him—nonstop chocolate and oysters washed down with champagne and liquid protein?"

            Daphne gave Roz a knowing smile then.  "My secret—and I might share if you come up with a good idea.  You first!"

            Roz raised an eyebrow.  "Well, for your information I asked the question to find out if my idea would work, and I think it will.  You see, I read in a magazine article recently that scheduling a date for sex, and then holding off until then, is one of the quickest ways to fire things up—not that you seem to need it.  But if you really want to take Niles to the next level, making him wait a few days to get the goodies again should do the trick.  He'll be climbing the walls by then if he's used to that much, and that means he'll do anything—and I mean anything—you want.  I tried it once for a couple of days, and it did add a real kick, though I have to admit I was the one who yelled uncle.  You like it?"

            "Actually, I do, rather."  Daphne looked at Roz thoughtfully.  "You see, in a few days it will be the sixth-month anniversary of our engagement, and I wanted to do something special as a surprise.  Maybe I shouldn't tell him what I'm up to.  I could pick the night and plan a fancy dinner at home, and then just put him off 'til then."  She paused to mull over her options.  "Maybe I could find some pretty new lingerie and greet him at the door in nothing but."

            Roz chuckled evilly.  "From what I heard, Niles has a real thing for pirates.  Find a costume, dress up as Anne Bonny, and tape a treasure map to the stair rail.  God knows you've got plenty of places to hide in that cavern he calls an apartment."

            "Oh, my, I'd forgotten that part," mused Daphne.  Her eyes grew smoky as she recalled the rest.  "Poor baby—I really tortured him that night, and didn't even realize!  He was certainly one frustrated little pirate when I kissed that fool Eric."

            "Spare me the trip down Memory Lane, I'm sure we've gone there before.  Sounds like you've got yourself a plan," Roz said briskly.  She leaned forward confidentially.  "So, your turn now.  What are these dietary secrets you've discovered that keep a man going all night?"

            "Well," Daphne smiled sweetly, "first, you need to do a lot of juicing . . ."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

            Two hours later that day, Frasier and Niles Crane sat at the same table Daphne and Roz had occupied.  An irritated Frasier struggled to finish his rapidly cooling latte while trying to deal with his preoccupied brother.

            "For God's sake, Niles, I know it's the six-month anniversary of your engagement in five days, but must you always go overboard with planning?  I have no doubt at all that Daphne will be thrilled with a lovely evening at Le Cigare Volant, and ending with a romantic encounter at the Montana.  Considering the way you two seem to be keeping busy there, how much more could she possibly be expecting?"

            "Yes, you're quite right, Frasier, but I still want to do something out of the ordinary for Daphne.  We've gone through so much to reach this point that this date deserves to be special.  After all, I wasn't sure six months ago that she could come back to America!  Please, you've got to help me with some ideas, my well of inspiration has run dry at the moment."  Niles fixed his brother with an imploring wide-eyed stare that made him look even more childlike than usual.  "I'm sorry to ask for another favor, but I might remind you that I aided you in this department recently, even if you did manage to botch that romance one more time."

            Frasier sighed.  "You know, I've already played Cupid to you two more than once—I don't know how much more I can do!"  Niles's eyes widened again.  "Oh, for God's sake!  Give me a minute to think clearly and drink my coffee, and I'll see what I can come up with. I need to leave for a station meeting soon."

            Frasier sipped at his latte as he pondered the question.  Niles, he realized, was trying very hard not to squirm in his chair, and failing miserably.  Frasier, suffering a sudden attack of jealousy, decided to let Niles twist in the wind for a while.  It was a good four minutes before Frasier put down his empty cup and finally spoke.

            "I seem to recall that there is a new French restaurant, L'Antibes, that everyone is raving about.  Small, beautifully decorated, and with food to die for, particularly the desserts.  I understand the owner is willing to cook something special for romantic occasions if you call.  Why don't you take her there?"

            "It sounds promising—I've been wanting to go there, but we haven't gotten around to it yet.  Isn't it near Green Lake Park?" 

            "Yes, which suggests to my mind that you can throw in a horse-drawn carriage ride to increase the romance factor.  Take her dancing at the Starlight Room after dinner, and then you can sweep her off to the Montana and the piece de resistance of the evening.  Perhaps you can do something special with that as well.  Does this meet your requirements?"

            "I do believe that it does, Frasier.  Thank you, very much—I know I worry too much about these things, but Daphne means so much I always want everything to be perfect."  Niles took a sip of latte and shot his brother a quizzical look.  "On the 'something special' . . . what exactly did you have in mind?  Role-playing?  Or something more radical?"  Niles couldn't keep a smug note out of his voice, the urge to score one on his brother bringing out his vanity.  "I will tell you that it would take quite an effort for Daphne and I to top our usual performance standard." 

            Frasier managed to ignore the shot.  "Don't even ask me to go there!"  He gave Niles a cagey grin.  "You do recall what happened all those merry years ago when I made a similar suggestion?"

            "Of course I do, but it's idiotic to mention it.  That was Maris, and Daphne isn't like that all!" 

            "True, but you need to remember that even if you don't have Guatemalan maids to contend with, an eye patch is still an eye patch no matter where you're wearing it!"  

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

            Later that day, Niles came home in a cheerful mood, having made all the necessary reservations for he and Daphne's anniversary evening on Thursday.  He had also indulged in a small shopping spree, and had purchased a new navy blue suit for himself and more jewelry, as ever, for Daphne.

            As the night flowed from dinner to a chess game to a shared bowl of fresh fruit on the couch, Niles began to feel increasingly amorous.  He edged over closer to Daphne and slipped an arm around her shoulders.  She made a small contented noise and snuggled against his chest.  Niles hesitated briefly and thought, Maybe I shouldn't tonight—I don't want her to think I'm a complete sexual obsessive. 

            The scent of Daphne's hair washed over him then, and Niles felt his body reacting with its usual intensity as cherry bark and almonds engulfed him.  He leaned down and began to kiss her, gently at first, but with increasing heat as her lips parted and he began exploring inside her mouth with mounting lust.  Daphne made a small murmuring noise as she responded whole-heartedly to Niles's kisses.  When his hand began to slide over her breasts and between her legs, however, she remembered her anniversary plans.   Uh-oh, I'd better shut things down right now or my surprise won't pack any punch at all.

            "Forgive me, Niles, but I'm a little worn out tonight, and won't be at me best, I'm afraid.  Perhaps another night?  I hope you don't mind."

            Niles masterfully buried his sharp sense of disappointment and gave Daphne a gallant smile.  "Of course I don't mind, my love—you should know by now that I never would presume to make a goddess do something she doesn't want to."

            Daphne stood up and gave him a soft kiss on the cheek.  "You're a dear, and I promise to make it up to you soon.  Good night, then."

            "Good night."  Niles watched as Daphne walked up the stairs, her hair swinging, a slight sway to her hips.  He felt himself becoming aroused again and fought to control the reaction, reminding himself with grim humor that all the practice he'd had in previous years should make it easy.  Once he calmed down, he settled back against the fainting couch and sipped more wine.  His brain began to gnaw at what had happened, like Eddie chewing a bone. 

            That's rather odd—I can't recall her telling me no, ever, since we got back from England.  After her weight gain and the rough start we had, she's always been eager to have sex whenever and however we can.  Is something wrong?  Niles sipped his wine again.  Could she be becoming a bit bored with me?  We do have sex a lot—it's difficult to keep the variety and spice in it if you do.  Time for me to come up with a new variation, I guess.

            More wine slid down Niles's throat, and the ugly little green worm of envy he always battled reared its head again and burrowed into his mind.  Or maybe, just maybe, she's gotten bored enough that she's eyeing someone else.  Frasier never fails to chide me when I get jealously insecure, but what the hell does he know?  He's never had a wife or fiancée that other men stare at while she walks down the street.  That much sultriness is hard to ignore, and when it comes wrapped in such a sweet personality, I'll have to be on guard for the rest of my days to prevent some muscular macho man from stealing her away.   

            Niles tossed back the last dregs of his wine glass as he stood up and stretched.  He shook his head to clear it, and as he did a flicker of sanity returned.  Good God, listen to me!  She turns me down one night and I panic.  More fool I!  He began to thoughtfully move up the stairs and to bed.  I'm quite sure things will be back to normal tomorrow night—it is Saturday, after all. 

     * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

           

            Unfortunately for Niles, achieving a "normal" level of sexual intimacy with Daphne over the next few days proved to be an increasingly elusive goal.

            Much to Niles's surprise, Daphne invited the entire family, as well as Roz and Alice, over for an impromptu dinner party Saturday night.  She told Niles with a chuckle that it was time for him to break out that new Russian cookbook he'd just bought and show that he actually could cook anything.  Niles gritted his teeth, hid his frustration, and proceeded to whip up a meal that Frasier proclaimed one of the best he'd eaten in his life.  Needless to say, after finishing with a hellishly rich orange buttercream torte and numerous vodka toasts, everyone was yawning and heading home for bed—including a sleepy Daphne.  Niles watched her move tiredly up the stairs once more as he thought, Stop worrying—she's tired and needs her sleep tonight.  

            When he reached over Sunday morning after breakfast and began kissing her, Daphne kissed him back gently, stepped away, and said calmly, "I'd love to, but we don't have enough time if we're going to get our errands run before seeing that movie."  They got home late, and a skittish Niles decided not to try again over the next two or three days, for fear of another rejection.

            Monday passed in a rainy, feverish haze for Niles as he sat in his office and struggled to focus on his patients' problems instead of his own.  His run of bad luck continued, however, since seemingly every sexual compulsive in current treatment had an appointment with him that day.  As the endless stream of sexual fantasies poured into his ears, Niles was hard put not to storm out the door and rush home.  His body betrayed him more and more as the day passed and images of he and Daphne performing every sex act known to man paraded through his brain.   What's wrong with me?  It's not unusual for couples to have sexually slack periods, so why the hell am I panicking after only a few days of abstinence?  I need treatment for sexual compulsion at this rate!  Stop thinking that she's bored, that she's found someone else  . . . Sleep did not come easily to Niles that night.                  

By Tuesday afternoon, Niles was an utter nervous wreck.  His latent jealousy simmered as the daily round of patients continued to enflame his nerves to the breaking point.  It was when he found himself reaching for the phone book to check the listings for a private investigator that it hit him that his mental state was unbalanced, to say the least.  Niles picked up the phone with a shaking hand and dialed Frasier's number, praying desperately that his brother was in.

"Frasier Crane.  How may I help you?"

"Frasier!  For God's sake, can I come over and talk to you?  I think Daphne and I are in the middle of a fresh sexual crisis here, and I'm about to lose what little sanity I have left!"

            "What's wrong?"  Niles felt a little comforted by the genuine concern in his brother's voice.

            "I'm not sure!  All I know is that Daphne keeps telling me 'no' every time I make anything resembling a sexual move, and don't you dare tell me 'You've had this problem before, I'm sure it will cure itself soon'!  This is not one of your misbegotten radio McSessions!  She's never turned me down a single time since we came home from England, and now suddenly she won't accept more than an occasional kiss!  The only explanation I can think of is that she's found someone else—not that I would blame her considering what a nerve-wracked mess I am!"  

            Frasier's deep sigh put Niles's teeth on edge.  "Niles, we both know from long experience in our chosen field that couples almost always go though times when they are having less sex than usual.  Don't you think you're overreacting more than a trifle to assume Daphne is cheating on you?  I find that an unlikely situation, to say the least." 

            "Goody for you, Frasier.  I just know I'm terrified of losing her.  Can I come over to speak with you, or not?"

            "Of course you can.  I do feel obligated to warn you that not only is Dad here watching a hockey game, but that Roz is here working on a new production project with me.  You may not want to discuss this in front of them, which is why I stepped into the master bedroom when I realized what you were calling about."

            "Oh, to hell with it!  I don't doubt Roz knows everything already—she's the one who probably found Daphne a real man from her stable of studs!  And Dad can enjoy doing his little song and dance about how 'everything will work out, son.'  I'll be there in ten minutes!"  Niles slammed down the receiver and rushed out.

            A few minutes later, Frasier opened his apartment door to behold his wild-eyed younger brother.  Niles looked considerably the worse for wear, with his tie and suit jacket off and his hair disarranged from the hands he kept running through it.  His shirt was partially unbuttoned, and one suspender kept slipping off his shoulder.

            "Congratulations, Niles.  Eight minutes flat from your office to here—a new land speed record for that particular route."

            "Spare me the ever-present dosage of sarcastic wit, Frasier," snapped Niles.  Glancing around the living room as he gasped for breath, Niles ignored a stunned Martin and stared at Frasier once more.  "Where is she?" Niles hissed.

            "Who?  Daphne?"

            "No—Roz, that shameless wench!  I'm sure Daphne has confided in her, and that she knows exactly what is going on here!  Where is she?"  Niles's voice rose in mounting hysteria.

            "She's in my bedroom checking on Alice, she put her down for a nap a little while ago.   Will you please curb your temporary insanity?  I daresay Roz knows as much as Dad and I do, which is to say nothing at all!  Now will you sit down and attempt to give me a clear and succinct summary of your supposed problem with Daphne, if you can?"

            "Of course I can, though relating it will scorch my mouth the same way Socrates' hemlock would."

            Frasier looked over at Martin; they exchanged eye rolls.  Frasier sat down beside Niles on the couch and laid a hand on his shoulder.  "If you are done with classical metaphors, please begin."

            "It all started last week one night, when Daphne turned me down for absolutely the first time since we came back home . . . "

As Niles's mournful recitation continued, Martin began shaking his head, a wry grin creeping over his face.  Frasier was torn between concern for a potential problem and amusement that his little brother was still so crazy in love after so many years.  Eddie, in the meantime, was trying to soothe the distressed human by licking Niles's hands while sprawled on the couch.  No one noticed a curious Roz standing next to the coat rack, listening avidly while keeping an ear cocked for Alice's voice in the bedroom she just had emerged from.

" . . . So, do you both see why it is I'm so afraid of the worst?  No other explanation makes the least bit of sense to me, and I don't think this is mere paranoia!"

"Yeah, right!"   Martin's laugh rang out as he looked at Niles with affectionate exasperation.  "Son, you've been married before, so I shouldn't have to tell you this, but I'm going to anyway.  No matter how hot-blooded a woman is, she'll have times when she's not that interested.  It has nothing to do with you—it's just how God the heavenly electrician wired women.  After those two tiny ice princesses you married before, you ought to be used to it."

Frasier chimed in as soon as Martin paused to take a breath.  "For the first time in my adult life, I have to agree completely with Dad, Niles.  What would possess you to think that Daphne would so much as look at another man, much less become involved with him?  She adores you more and more every day—the way she looks at you proclaims that fact to the world at large.  Now will you just calm down, go home, and talk to Daphne about this?  I am positive your problem will resolve itself if you do!"

"Oh, please—you don't ask an already condemned man to arrange his own execution," moaned Niles.  He dropped his woebegone face into his hands, fell back against the coach, and prepared to launch into full cry once more.  Roz realized that, no matter how amusing this spectacle was, she could not take another round of classic Crane self-pity.

"Niles, knock it off, will you?"  Roz's sharp exclamation caused all three Crane men to snap their heads around.  Ignoring their surprised expressions, she strode down to stand in front of Niles.  Still standing, she cupped his chin and pulled his face up so she could stare directly into his eyes.

"Listen to me very carefully, Doctor Demento," said Roz, her voice pure steel.  "There is nothing wrong.  Daphne loves you, and no, there isn't anybody else—I know that for a fact.  Go home.  I guarantee that you and Daphne will be dancing the horizontal mambo within twenty-four hours if you do."

 "Why should I trust you?" Niles snapped.  "It's not as though you've ever wished me well, Miss Doyle—quite the contrary."

"Because I know about these things.  Because I care about Daphne and want her to be happy.  Because, it might surprise you to hear, I care about you too, even if you are the frilliest lace doily I've ever met in my life.  For all you know, she's got some big anniversary present planned for you in a couple of days.  Now go home, and relax!"

Niles stared at Roz for a long beat as she let go of his chin and stepped away from him.  He stood up very slowly, straightened his slumped shoulders a miniscule bit, and gathered the tattered remnants of his dignity around him like an old cloak as he picked up his tie and suit jacket.   His voice was pure weariness.

"I suppose you all may very well be correct, and that my insecurity where Daphne is concerned has made me behave badly.  On the other hand, I wouldn't be shocked in the least if she announces soon that she has no desire to deal with a single one of my complexes ever again.  I shall go home now, discover my fate, and take it on the chin like a real man.  I am very sorry to have interrupted your evening.  Good night."

As the front door slammed shut behind a drooping Niles, Roz burst into hearty laughter.  "God, what the hell was that?  I thought he outgrew this nuttiness when he finally hooked up with Daphne!  That was the bad old days all over again!  Thank God everything is fine, or he'd be impossible!"  Roz took a swig from her wine glass and starting laughing again as she turned to face Frasier and Martin.  The chilly gazes they were fixing her with cut her laughter off abruptly.

            "Roz," Frasier rumbled in his deepest tones.  "What exactly do you know?  Something about the phrasing of that speech to Niles tells me that Daphne has raised matters with you quite recently.  I want to know what is going on here, and I want to know now!"

            "Me too," added Martin, all warmth drained from his voice.

            Roz cleared her throat, which suddenly felt very dry, and drank more wine to moisten it.  She gathered enough quick Dutch courage from it to stare at both men and give them a flippant grin.  "Well, for your information, Daphne and I talked over coffee at Nervosa a few days ago.  She wanted some advice on keeping the spice in her sex life with Niles, so I gave her a couple of suggestions."

            "And these were . . .?"  Frasier lowered his voice still further.

            Roz sighed.  "Do we really have to go over the gory details, Frasier?  I mean I love talking about sex, but not with you and Martin, frankly."

            "Yes, I want the details!  You seem to have helped create a major problem here, so consider this the price you pay to help repair it!"

            "All right, all right!"  Roz drank more wine, sat down on the couch, and carefully put the glass down on the coffee table.  "Daphne was terribly anxious to do something special for their little informal anniversary in a few days, and we did some brainstorming together.   The one idea she really liked was stopping the sex for a few days so it was more exciting when it happened again.  Daphne decided to postpone sex 'til the night of their anniversary—you know, big sexual fireworks would be part of the celebration then.  She also decided not to say anything to Niles, so everything would be a surprise."  Roz's face took on a defiant look.  "It sounded like a good idea at the time.  How the hell were we suppose to know that Niles was so nutty about sex with Daphne that he'd go into complete meltdown when he had to wait a few days to get it?"

            "Oh, isn't this just lovely! "  Frasier sputtered.  "I want you to go into the study, call Daphne right now, and clear up this misunderstanding!  Firstly, I cannot cope with Niles in this kind of hysteria until Thursday, and secondly, I helped him make his own plans for Thursday night, which he will not appreciate changing!  Go, call Daphne now, Roz!"

            "I'm going, I'm going—take a chill pill, will you?"  Roz sauntered off to the study, leaving Frasier and Martin to shake their heads at each other in disbelief.

            "I'll give you boys this—even when I think one of you has settled down for good and that life will finally be quiet, you both manage to surprise me again.  I'm going to bed—this damn hip is killing me tonight."  As Martin hobbled towards his bedroom, he paused to look back at Frasier.  "One more piece of advice, son, for both you and Roz—when Niles and Daphne come to the two of you, and ask for romantic hints, just say no.  You'll both be a lot happier if you do."

            Frasier sighed.  "Yeah, Dad, maybe so.  Good night."

            "Good night."

            Frasier watched Martin disappear, and then sipped sherry while a thoughtful expression settled on his face as he waited for Roz to emerge.  Ten minutes later, she walked out of the back hallway, chuckling merrily.

            "Yes, I got hold of Daphne, and problem solved—I think her show will be tomorrow night now.  That way Niles calms down and his plans don't change.  Happy now?  I sure as hell hope so, and I'll be damned if I give advice to either Daphne or Niles from here on out!"

            Frasier gave a dry laugh.  "Dad was just suggesting that you and I should stop giving them advice, that it's more trouble than it's worth."

            "That's an understatement!"  Roz's face closed, and the reflectiveness on it mirrored Frasier's expression.  "On the other hand . . . have you ever asked yourself how well-meaning your advice to Niles really is?  I mean, it's great that they're so happy, but sometimes I can't help feeling a little jealous, that they found something together I never will.  I know when Daphne was telling me how spectacular her sex life with Niles actually is, I couldn't control that nasty little twinge of envy."

            "You shouldn't say 'never', Roz."

            "Maybe—but I doubt it, if I haven't found a man to devote myself to by now.  Of course, he might be sitting right in front of me, but I doubt that too."  Roz pinned an artificially bright smile on her face, and lifted her glass in a mocking toast.  "Here's to we pragmatists!  May we enjoy endless dates with no chains to tie us down!"

            "Here, here," Frasier murmured.  As the two of them drank, their eyes met each other's over the edge of their glasses, and they mutually suppressed uneasy speculations—regarding both jealousy and never-to-be-explored possibilities—that reared up to plague them.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

            Daphne hurried down the street Wednesday morning with an umbrella clutched in her hand and a preoccupied expression on her face.  She had seen Niles off to work earlier with a sunny smile that hid the guilt eating at her when she saw how heavy-eyed and sleepless he looked. 

            Roz's phone call the night before had been an unexpected jolt.  When the two of them cooked up her little surprise, Daphne had never contemplated how Niles would react to the sudden loss of sexual intimacy, however brief it might be.  She was kicking herself mentally now, realizing that she should have foreseen what Niles would think in light of their previous history.  How could I have been so blind?  Oh well—it's done now, and tonight is my chance to make it up to him completely.  If I do this right, he won't mind a bit what he's felt lately!  Thank goodness Roz told me about Niles's plans—this way we won't step on each other's toes.  Daphne chuckled a little despite her worries when she recalled Roz's description of Niles's total meltdown at Frasier's.  It was the old Niles from what she told me.  Rather nice I can still drive him that crazy!

            She hurried down the street towards Pike Place Market, mentally plotting out the evening's menu and pondering her options.  She also needed to find something to wear for the main event of the night, she knew, but she found herself rejecting Roz's suggestions of various sex stores she could go to.  That sort of toy and lingerie shop just didn't seem classy enough for Niles; he always had such beautifully impeccable taste.  Daphne wanted to make her surprise as special as possible, and that meant something out of the ordinary, something as elegant as the man it was intended for  . . .

            Daphne, absorbed in her own thoughts, realized she was on the verge of knocking down a woman emerging from a small shop to her right.  She stopped dead and gasped, "Oh, I am so very sorry!  Me mind was elsewhere, I'm afraid—please forgive me."

            "That's quite all right, dear—I'm fine."  As the smiling woman unlocked her parked car, Daphne's eyes rested on the window display of the shop.  She caught her breath, enchanted at what she saw.  A gorgeous, colorfully beaded bra and belt gleamed on a mannequin, accented by the equally colorful skirt. 

            Her curiosity piqued, Daphne stepped back to get a look at the sign above the door.  "BELEDI—Seattle's Store for Middle Eastern Dance," it proclaimed in ornate lettering.  Her eyes widened as she stared at the costume once more, seized with a sudden imaginative notion.

            "Why, that would work, wouldn't it?  An Arabian Nights fantasy—Niles will love that, he's always adored lavish things—this is perfect, really," Daphne murmured softly to herself as she clicked open the shop door.

                                                * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

            The clock in Niles' office struck six as he brooded over an unread medical journal on his desk.  He jumped slightly as Mrs. Woodson knocked and put her head around the door.

            "Dr. Crane, I'm leaving now.  Oh, I nearly forgot—Miss Moon called when you stepped out a half-hour ago.  She wanted you to be sure and come home soon tonight.  She said she had something very important to discuss with you."

            The words sounded in Niles' ears with the clarity of a death knell.  Oh my God, this is it—it's over, she's got someone new, I'm history at last!  He steeled his voice and said tightly, "Very well, Mrs. Woodson, thank you.  I'll see you tomorrow."

            The drive home was the purest sort of agony, every fear he'd ever held about losing Daphne swimming to the surface of his consciousness.  All of the advice from the night before—Frasier's, Martin's, Roz's—drowned in waves of paranoia.  Oh God, not Daphne—please God, I'll never pray for anything else if she stays with me---don't let it be what I think it is . . . As his car moved closer and closer to the Montana, despair took him over completely.  It was a sheer act of will for him to park the car in the garage and climb out.  He moved like a zombie, blind to the world around him.

            Niles walked slowly up to his apartment door and sighed deeply.  I always knew it couldn't possibly last forever, that she'd get fed up with me eventually, he thought morosely.  My darling goddess has decided she can't deal with a perpetual bundle of nerves.  He turned the key in the lock reluctantly and threw open the door.

            He blinked in surprise at the darkness that greeted him.  The only light came from the fireplace and a few small candles flickering on the stairs.  What the hell is this? Where's Daphne, for the love of God?  He peered more closely at the stair rail, and realized two notes were taped to it.  Tossing his coat and suit jacket onto the fainting couch, he strode over and tore off the first note from the lower post.  Unfolding it, he read:

Be brave, very brave.

           

Niles snatched at the second note, written in the same Arabic-looking type and taped farther up the rail, and read with mounting eagerness:

Come upstairs & enter the Cave of Wonders,

O my lord and master.

            Niles felt his heart thump in his chest and his breathing grow shallow.  Oh, my God, what is she up to?  Is it what I think it is?  Lord have mercy-- He seized the stair rail and walked carefully upstairs.  He edged down the hallway to the bedroom door, seeing then the gleaming light through the slight opening and smelling the faint aroma of burning incense.

            Niles pushed the door open with a trembling hand.  As his eyes devoured the sensual spectacle on the other side, his knees began to buckle and he grabbed the door jam to prevent a complete collapse.

            Candle flames danced everywhere, illuminating the bedroom with a warm rosy glow.  Lengths of brilliantly colored dyed silk were draped over the bed and windows, creating the illusion of a desert tent.  He spared a quick glance at the small table in front of the fireplace, covered with delicious-smelling food and with wine—Cloudy Bay Sauvignon Blanc, he realized—chilling in an ice bucket.  His attention was completely reabsorbed, however, by the reclining figure nestled among velvet pillows on the bed.

            Daphne was dressed in a Middle Eastern bra and belt, multicolored jewels and beads glittering in the candlelight.  Her split skirt had endless layers of shimmering silks, and one shapely leg was curved provocatively on top.  Her wrists and ankles sported dozens of delicate gold bracelets, matched by the gold chains dangling between her breasts.  She gave Niles a completely beguiling smile, and he realized that the heavier makeup she wore, far from cheapening her looks, endowed them with exotic elegance. 

            As Niles continued to stare in stupefied amazement, Daphne chuckled softly.  "So, do you like your anniversary surprise?  Can you forgive me for making you wait for it?"

            Niles's jaw dropped.  "This is why you've been telling me no for the past few nights?  You've been planning this all along?"

            "Yes," admitted Daphne.  "I got some advice on those lines, that a little waiting puts an extra zing in the sex." 

            "Our Miss Doyle, no doubt—it bears her hallmark beyond question," sighed Niles.

Daphne smiled gently.  "I should have told you what I was doing, but the surprise would have been spoilt then, and I did so want to surprise you!  Please forgive me for hurting you—I never meant to do that, you know."  Her eyes clouded up with guilt.

Niles sat down on the edge of the bed and slid his arms around Daphne.  Their mouths met in a long, lingering kiss.  When Niles finally pulled away, he looked at the lavish trappings again.  "You are forgiven completely, because you did surprise me—magnificently, I might add.  I'm very curious—where did you find all this?  Especially the outfit, it looks ravishing on you."

"There's a little shop near Pike Place Market that sells Middle Eastern dance gear, including costumes.  When I told the owner why I wanted everything, she said I could bring it back the next day."  Her smile was openly seductive now.  "But she also told me that she offers regular belly dancing lessons there, and I think I may start taking them.  It will keep my figure in good shape, and give me something to entertain you with—particularly since she told me that the muscle control she teaches has certain . . . side benefits."

"Oh?"  Niles felt his whole body—one part above all else—snap to attention.  "And what benefits are we talking about, my love?"

Daphne slid off the bed gracefully and pulled Niles to his feet.  "I can't show you as long as you're in all those clothes."  She laughed as she began unbuttoning his shirt and taking off his tie.  "Don't you agree?"

She undressed him painstakingly in the flickering light, her hands caressing him sensuously as she removed each piece.  An increasingly aroused Niles found himself fighting not to pick Daphne up and fling her onto the bed.  He didn't even complain when his Armani suit ended up in a rumpled heap on the floor.

Once he was completely naked, Daphne pushed him back onto the pillows and knelt beside him.  As Niles lay there, he stared up into Daphne's face, mesmerized by the intent expression on it as she leaned over him.

"So, ladylove, what are you intending to do?  Feed me nectar and ambrosia in endless quantity?"  His voice shook a little despite his bantering tone.

"Not yet, darling, I thought you'd want to satisfy your other appetite before eating anything."  Her husky voice melted him totally.  "First, I want to give you a massage, and then we'll see what happens.  It is your evening, after all, since you're the lord and master for the moment.  Who knows?  Maybe we were master and slave in some corner of Araby in a previous life, too, along with the other!"  She paused.  "You're not too angry I didn't say anything sooner, are you?"

"Of course not!"  Niles gave Daphne a teasing grin and closed his eyes.  "Do with me as you will, my dearest odalisque."

 Daphne began at his neck and worked her way down with almost agonizing slowness.  Between her touch and the cherry almond scent of the massage oil, it didn't take Niles long to become convinced that fainting wasn't far off.  After she stroked the last few inches of his body, she sat up, an impish sparkle in her soft brown eyes.

"Well, it looks like I used a little too much oil in some spots!  I guess I'll just have to clean some of it off . . ."

As Niles opened his mouth to speak, he felt her lips kissing the areas where her hands had been before.  When he felt her swirling tongue connect with its ultimate goal, velvet on velvet, he moaned, all conscious thought gone, and gave his whole body up to pure sexual sensation at last.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The better part of an hour later, Niles slumped in a chair at the table.  Tired, but pleasantly so, he sipped the honey-sweetened mint tea Daphne had brewed while he nibbled at dates and slices of passion fruit.  For one of the few times in his life, he had neglected to put on a dressing gown.  He gazed lustfully at Daphne where she was curled up on the bed.  With her drooping eyelids, mussed hair, and bruised mouth, she looked like a sleepy child who had played much too hard before bedtime.  Her elaborate costume lay in a wild tangle with Niles's suit on the rug.  She caught his look, smiled, and lazily pushed the hair out of her face.

"Rebuilding your strength for another go-round, are you?"

"You bet I am, my love!"  Niles lifted himself carefully and walked back to the side of the bed.  "Are you suddenly having doubts about my ability to rise to the occasion more than once in a single evening?  Remember, a high-strung temperament has its advantages!" 

Daphne giggled.  "Not hardly—especially with what I can see right now!  You know, don't you, that most women would never believe me if I told them what your actual sexual capacity seems to be sometimes?"

Niles climbed on top of her then and straddled her, pinning her to the bed.  "And have you told someone—like Roz, perhaps?" he drawled.  "The truth, now!"

"Why, yes I did, as a matter of fact."  Daphne somehow managed to look demure even while lying naked with her arms held down above her head.  "She was certainly startled—and maybe a little jealous."

"I should certainly hope so, " murmured Niles.  "If she wasn't, then I'm not pleasing you enough, am I?"  He kissed Daphne, and then began to slide his lips downward, savoring her gasp as his tongue flicked over one nipple.  "It's your turn now to be a helpless prisoner of lust.  After all, you were the one who told me six months ago we'd wasted too much time over the years, and then you make me wait for several nights?  Punishment time, my sweet, for playing the coy mistress too long."

 "And what punishment is that, my darling?" whispered Daphne.  She groaned as Niles's mouth strayed farther down across her soft mound, making her arch up passionately.  She heard his laughing reply before she was completely overwhelmed by desire.

"Why, to get no sleep until sunrise, and maybe not then!  Are you ready, love?"

Now let us sport us while we may;

                                    And now, like amorous birds of prey,

                                    Rather at once our time devour,

                                    Than languish in his slow-chapped power.

                                    Let us roll all our strength, and all

                                    Our sweetness, up into one ball:

                                    And tear our pleasures with rough strife,

                                    Thorough the iron grates of life.

                                    Thus, though we cannot make our sun

                                    Stand still, yet we will make him run.

                                                Andrew Marvell, "To His Coy Mistress"