As strange events went in Apartment 1901 of Seattle's Elliott Bay Towers, Dr. Frasier Crane had to concede that tonight's were among the strangest that he could recollect. He'd invited his new boss, Tom Duran, to dinner tonight with the family, ostensibly because he seemed like a nice guy, but really because Daphne was experiencing a frustrating dry spell. Little did he know that Tom was gay, and that Tom had assumed that he was as well. Thankfully an embarrassing resolution to the evening had been averted and he hoped that they were still on good terms; after all, Tom was still his boss at KACL, and he was a genuinely nice guy. As Tom was leaving he questioned Frasier on the sexuality of his brother, Niles.

Tom shrugged his way into his coat, turning towards Frasier. "So wait a minute, this Maris guy he kept mentioning is a woman?"

He smiled as he walked Tom towards the front door. "Well, the jury's still out on that one."

They were both startled at a loud, persistent knock at said front door and Tom made a joke. "Niles aggrieved at your opinion of his wife?"

He frowned, wondering who it could possibly be. "I don't think Niles has that much aggression in his body. I wonder who..."

His question was interrupted by a clear voice. "Dr. Crane, this is the F.B.I. Open up, we have a warrant to search your apartment."

In confusion he turned to Tom, who was in the process of removing his coat again. "Tom, what are you doing?"

Tom hung his coat up and turned towards Frasier. "Escaping, with any luck." He gestured towards the door. "They're after me, not you. I've been leading a double life for the last decade." He made towards the balcony, Frasier following in confusion. "I'm an international cat burglar, in Europe and the U.S. I guess since my return here I've gotten sloppy."

"But where are you going?"

"To the roof and from there, who knows? You'd better let them in. Wish me luck."

Frasier watched as Tom went out onto the balcony area and disappeared over the side. The knocking became more insistent as he strode to the front door and opened it. To his astonishment, he recognized one of the Agents stood there. "Good Lord, Agent Cooper. What brings you to Seattle?"

Cooper nodded in acknowledgement. "Your dinner guest tonight, Dr. Crane. Tom Duran is a wanted felon in ten States and three European Countries. May we come in?"

He stood aside as the two agents entered the apartment. "Of course."

The second Agent winked at him. "Cozy little dinner for two, was it Doc?"

"Now now, Albert – no innuendo this early on in the story." Cooper gestured towards his colleague. "This is my partner on this case, Agent Rosenfield. If anything he's usually even more anxious to leave Twin Peaks than you and your brother were."

Albert placed his briefcase on the table behind the sofa. "Much as I'd like to discuss our mutual dislike for that hick town, we have business to attend to. Where is Tom Duran, Dr. Crane?"

Frasier pointed towards the balcony area. "If he's not a bloody smear on the sidewalk, he's somewhere between here and the roof. I was totally unaware of his criminal proclivities until you knocked on the door just now, and he was a dinner guest of my whole family. My father's retired to bed, as has his physical therapist, Daphne, and you must've passed my brother, Niles, in separate elevators."

Albert opened his briefcase and pulled out a pair of white gloves. "Hey, no need to go all defensive about your dinner date; we're all men of the world here." With some difficulty, he proceeded to pull on the gloves. "I hope these work better here than in Dubai. I borrowed them from Ethan Hunt over at the I.M.F and have been dying to try them out."

Frasier looked at the two F.B.I. agents in confusion. "The International Monetary Fund?"

Albert rolled his eyes in disgust. "You know, Doc, if I had a dollar for every time I've heard that I'd have at least..." He snapped his briefcase closed. "Three Dollars, maybe four." He turned towards the balcony to see Martin Crane stood in a nightgown by the corner of the room.

"What the hell's going on here, Frasier?"

Albert walked up to him and flexed his gloved hands. "Excuse me, Daphne, but I have to access Dr. Crane's external gratification zone."

Martin looked at him with a look of revulsion on his face. "You better be a proctologist otherwise I'll have you arrested."

Albert moved past him, with a chuckle, and opened the door to the balcony. "Calm down, old man, any arrests being made tonight will be done by me." He clambered out onto a ledge and disappeared from view.

Martin turned towards his son, gesturing towards Cooper with his cane. "What's going on Frasier, and what's with the travelling circus?"

Frasier grimaced, rubbing the back of his neck. "They're the F.B.I. Dad – they're after Tom, who just so happens to be a wanted cat burglar."

Martin grunted. "Yeah, I had it on authority that he was a bit light on his feet."

"Now, now, Dad – no lazy stereotyping here; It's not the 1990's anymore."

"Yes it is."

Frasier placed his palm on his forehead. "Sorry, of course it is; I'm getting confused with the Meta aspects of this piece."

Agent Cooper coughed to gain their attention. "Perhaps I should explain to your father, Dr. Crane." He held his hand out to Martin to initiate a handshake. "I'm Special Agent Dale Cooper of the F.B.I. We've been tracking a prolific international cat burglar nicknamed 'The Spider' for a number of years, and we've recently managed to confirm that it's Tom Duran."

Martin looked at him in disbelief. "The Spider? What sort of stupid name is that for a cat burglar?"

Cooper raised an eyebrow. "A moniker made up by our Media Dept and, I agree with you, it has an incongruous aspect to it that is troublesome but, at the end of the day, my job is just to catch him – not name him."

"Why not Tom Cat?"

Frasier shook his head in disgust. "They've only just found out that it's Tom, Dad. Now that they do know, any nickname becomes irrelevant."

"I guess so." Martin shook Cooper's hand. "So, have you ever been shot?"

Frasier shook his head in disgust, again, and for good measure rolled his eyes as well. "Oh please, can we not have a discussion of each other's war wounds, otherwise I'll be forced to show you the scar on my arm where I had my U.S.S. Indianapolis tattoo removed."

Martin looked at him in confusion."I thought it was your penis that had the tattoo?"

"Wrong film, Dad."

"Oh, okay." Martin turned towards Cooper with a frown. "Say, I don't suppose your middle initial is B by any chance?

Cooper smiled, letting out a little laugh. "As matter of fact it is, but don't worry, I'm not him."

Martin beamed. "You know, I was part of the Seattle taskforce that investigated at the time."

Much to Frasier's relief, his father's recollections were interrupted by the sound of approaching stiletto heels. He turned to see Daphne looking at the three of them in confusion. "Ah, Daphne. This is Agent Cooper from the F.B.I. He's trying to apprehend Tom Duran, who it turns out is a wanted career criminal, a cat burglar in fact."

Daphne frowned. "A cat burglar? And I thought he had no interest in pussy."

Martin grimaced. "Jeez Daphne, even I hesitated about going with that gag."

"Oh, sorry." She bent down. "I just popped back in to pick up my lucky bra, though it wasn't so lucky tonight."

Frasier had another retort on the tip of his tongue but a disturbance above the balcony stopped him.

A couple of seconds later, Agent Rosenfield dropped into view and stepped back into the apartment. He looked at Daphne. "Well that's a bust."

She defensively crossed her arms in front of her chest. "And who the hell are you?"

Albert looked in confusion at the three men in the room before looking back to Daphne. "Agent Rosenfield. No slight intended, ma'am, I was referring to these." He held up his hands and proceeded to remove his gloves. "I borrowed them from Ethan Hunt at the I.M.F. but they don't work. "

She frowned. "The International Mon..."

Frasier held up his hand. "Stop right there, Daphne, I've already used that line."

"So who's Ethan Hunt then? Is he the American equivalent of Gareth Hunt?"

All four of them looked at Daphne, varying degrees of confusion on their faces, but it was Agent Cooper who spoke up. "I think I speak for all four of us, Daphne, in asking who, on God's green earth, is Gareth Hunt?"

She placed her hands on her hips, as if the answer should be common knowledge. "He's a British actor, of course. His best known role was as a member of the New Avengers, where he played the role of Gambit."

Cooper began counting on his fingers. "Let's see. Captain America, Thor, the Incredible..."

Albert stopped his partner in midstream. "Sorry, Coop, but those were the original Avengers. There came a time when Marvel wanted Wolverine in every conceivable team so they created the New Avengers for that purpose. I don't know who Gambit is, though."

Frasier coughed."I can help you there. Gambit was a member of the X-Men, a Cajun by the name of Remy LeBeau."

"Well, you'd know all about that team."

Daphne tutted in disgust. "What are you lot wittering on about? I'm not talking about that New Avengers, or the bloody X-Men for that matter, but the New Avengers from the 1970's."

Martin piped up. "So let me get this straight. There are two I.M.F.'s, two Gambit's and also two New Avengers. Anything else I've missed?"

Cooper snapped his fingers. "Two Dr. Crane's." He looked at Frasier. "In fact, we need to be getting down to the lobby, where your brother almost certainly is, seeing as we've locked down the entire building and need to start a comprehensive search." Together with Albert, he walked to the front door of the apartment. "There are agents on the roof, Dr. Crane, so if Tom Duran should happen to make his way back here, please advise him to give himself up quietly."

Frasier nodded as the two agents left. "Of course Agent Cooper and it was nice to see you again despite the circumstances." He discerned a snort from Agent Rosenfield as he closed the door after them, before turning back to address Daphne and his father. "Well, I hope that's the excitement over for one night."

They all looked towards the balcony area as a small noise presaged the arrival of Tom dropping back onto the balcony and re-entering the apartment. Martin shook his head in disgust. "That all depends on Twinkletoes, doesn't it."

Tom pointed upwards "Nice to see you again too, Martin. The roof's swarming with agents, so I've been listening to some of your conversation. I remember, from my time in England, that Gareth Hunt can be used to substitute for a rhyming swearword that starts with the letter C."

Frasier looked from Tom to Daphne. "Is that right?"

She nodded. "We're not all as genteel and well-spoken as Hugh Grant or Dame Maggie Smith, you know." She turned to go back to her bedroom. "At least we don't shorten the name Michael Hunt in order to get a cheap laugh. Good night, everyone."

After a round of good nights, Frasier scratched his head "Michael Hunt? Mike H... ah yes, I've seen that film."

Martin took that as his cue to say good night, and a few seconds later it was just Frasier and Tom. "So what are you going to do, Tom, the building is pretty much secure."

Tom smiled. "Well my usual preference is to slip down the back way."

"I beg your pardon?"

Tom retrieved his coat from the stand and proceeded to put it on. "The service elevator – I take it you have one?"

Frasier opened the door to the apartment and pointed down the hallway. "It's just round the corner there, on the right. But surely the feds couldn't be that incompetent?"

Tom smiled as he began to make his way down the hallway. "They've given a cat burglar the nickname of 'The Spider' remember? I think all bets are off. Good night Frasier."

Just before Tom turned the corner, Frasier raised a finger. "Tom, one last thing – if there's still a double bed in the service elevator that reeks of perfume – well, let's just say that I was a bad boy."

Tom grinned. "I never doubted it for a second."

As Frasier re-entered his apartment he leant back against the door and contemplated the view outside the balcony windows. "My god, my life's turning into an absurd sit com"