Chapter 3
Frasier was lightly dozing when he heard a noise coming from the other room and went to investigate. Roz was sitting up urgently fumbling for something. Frasier hastily turned on the light to ask her what was the matter but from the look on her face he realized the problem and barely grabbed the trash can in time. He held her still damp hair away from her face as she once again suffered the effects of too much alcohol. She collapsed back into the pillows obviously miserable as Frasier hastily carried the trash can out to empty it before the stench affected the room. When he came back he carried a small glass of water and a wet washcloth, knowing from a few bad experiences how bad she felt now, and how much worse she'd feel later. She barely had enough energy to sip the water, but smiled very weakly to show her appreciation..
He gently wiped her flushed face with the cool washcloth, finally stopping when it had become dry. Just as he rose to go Roz stirred again. "Please, stay..." she mumbled, still trying to get her senses to cooperate.
"Does she mean stay or STAY," Frasier pondered, recalling how she had been dancing with him in the bar. "I'm not sure what she means, but I can at least stay in here in case she needs me" he rationalized, not to mention the couch was still a little damp from his cleaning efforts.
He crawled into the bed stiffly, trying to keep a fair distance away from Roz but before he was even settled she immediately curled up close to him laying her head on his chest. He wondered if she could hear how fast his heart was pounding at her closeness, but she looked like she had pretty much passed out again so he figured it was just an instinctual need for comfort that was leading her to this closeness. He tentatively stroked her hair, easing her back into unconsciousness. The light was still on and as much as he wanted to turn it out, doing so would require completely moving Roz so they just lay there with the light on. Before he realized it he had stopped stroking her hair and had moved on to lightly stroking her facial features, marveling as he had many times before at how beautiful she was. He had known for a very long time that he loved her, but the time had never been right to tell her, plus he knew she would never go for a stuffed shirt like she thought he was.
Sleep was slow to come for Frasier Crane that night as he couldn't help but think, as he had many times before, what a relationship with Roz could be like. He couldn't risk it, she was the best friend he had ever had outside of his family, and he did not want to risk losing that friendship by becoming one of the many men she cast aside after 3 dates. Finally he drifted off into a troubled sleep.
