Solitary Confinement
by Marita Linde
Author's notes: I know this is a short beginning, but I do plan on making this story more than a few chapters long. Fandom: It's about the whole cast. There's some Niles/Daphne, possibly some Roz/Frasier. Thanks: Katie, for reading and commenting.
"Jeez, it's dark out here," she mused, stumbling up the black street, the thump of her steps against the wet pavement an uneven rhythm.
"Well, it's two in the morning. One would assume it would be dark outside." I watched her blink as the bright light from the street lamp shone in her glazed eyes. Her dark eyelashes fluttered quickly, and suddenly she was leaning against me for support while she wretched in the excellently-positioned street garbage can.
"Are you okay?" I asked, more concerned than I would have liked to admit, and watched the way her butterfly hair clip glittered in the yellowy glow of the street light.
She nodded, wiping her face with a tissue, and groaned, "I feel like shit."
"That much is apparent," I commented. "But who wouldn't after drinking eight straight shots of vodka?" She gave me a look and continued walking, teetering from right to left precariously.
"Roz," I said, my voice strained with annoyance, "the car is right here." I patted the silver steel of my dependable BMW, which was parked right beside me, and watched as she turned around and threw me a sheepish grin.
"Right." I opened the door for her and she climbed in, watching me through the window as I walked around to my side of the car. "Thanks again for giving me a ride, Frasier," she said loudly when I was seated. "Don't know where I'd be without you." Upon uttering that old, worn-out phrase, she slapped my knee in what I'm sure she thought was a friendly gesture and promptly fell silent.
It would be ten minutes before I realized she'd passed out.
Reading the paper the next morning, listening to my father munching away happily at his Captain Crunch cereal, I wondered to myself how my life had changed in the past 11 years since I'd moved back to Seattle. Same furniture, same dog, same father (I sighed with discontent as he wiped his mouth with his shirt sleeve). The only thing that had changed, really, was the quality of the relationships within these walls. At least I could be thankful that my father and I now got along.
But I was still alone. No steady girlfriend. No girlfriend at all, really. It was hard to remember the last time I'd even had a real date. I was getting older every day - no, every hour- and I still didn't have a woman to share my life with. The thought, as depressing as it was, seemed like the only thing I could think of these days.
Suddenly the door to the apartment swung open, breaking my concentration, and there stood my brother. Disheveled, panting heavily, looking almost ill, he was clinging desperately to the door frame with a helpless look on his face.
"Niles, are you alright?" I asked worriedly, and hurried over to help him walk to the couch. "You look like you've just seen a ghost." He slumped onto the sofa and leaned against it like he'd been walking for days.
"Oh, Frasier," he moaned, "the most awful thing has happened." He looked up at me with bright, sad, wide blue eyes and breathed, "Daphne has left me."
"What? Why?!" Appalled, I immediately sat down beside him, staring at him intently.
"Oh, calm down Niles," my father said, limping over to the sofa and frowning down at Niles. "She's just driving down to Oregon with her mother for a few days."
"Oh, right, I remember that," I said, rolling my eyes. "Is that honestly why you look half-dead, Niles? Because your wife is going away for a long weekend without you? Please, you'll be fine."
"I thought I would be," Niles admitted, still breathing heavily, "but it's horrible without her. The entire apartment is silent. I've forgotten how to do everything! Suddenly I can't cook, I can't clean, it's like I'm helpless without her."
"Oh, Niles, you're such a drama queen," I chided, walking to the kitchen to get him a glass of water. "You'll be fine without Daphne for a few days."
"Yes, but I'd feel a lot better if I weren't in such an empty house," he said slowly, eying me as I handed him the glass. "You know, if I were around people."
"Niles, you are not staying here with us just because you can't stand to be without your wife for a weekend." I started to walk to my bedroom. "The last time you stayed here, you kept me up all night with your psychobabble, and I need to get a good night's sleep tonight because there's a fresh new female face coming to KACL tomorrow and I can't wait to lay on the charm."
"Fine!" he yelled at me as I disappeared from his view. "I know when I'm not wanted. You're right, Frasier, I'll be fine on my own. I'm not that dependant on Daphne!"
Famous last words.
by Marita Linde
Author's notes: I know this is a short beginning, but I do plan on making this story more than a few chapters long. Fandom: It's about the whole cast. There's some Niles/Daphne, possibly some Roz/Frasier. Thanks: Katie, for reading and commenting.
"Jeez, it's dark out here," she mused, stumbling up the black street, the thump of her steps against the wet pavement an uneven rhythm.
"Well, it's two in the morning. One would assume it would be dark outside." I watched her blink as the bright light from the street lamp shone in her glazed eyes. Her dark eyelashes fluttered quickly, and suddenly she was leaning against me for support while she wretched in the excellently-positioned street garbage can.
"Are you okay?" I asked, more concerned than I would have liked to admit, and watched the way her butterfly hair clip glittered in the yellowy glow of the street light.
She nodded, wiping her face with a tissue, and groaned, "I feel like shit."
"That much is apparent," I commented. "But who wouldn't after drinking eight straight shots of vodka?" She gave me a look and continued walking, teetering from right to left precariously.
"Roz," I said, my voice strained with annoyance, "the car is right here." I patted the silver steel of my dependable BMW, which was parked right beside me, and watched as she turned around and threw me a sheepish grin.
"Right." I opened the door for her and she climbed in, watching me through the window as I walked around to my side of the car. "Thanks again for giving me a ride, Frasier," she said loudly when I was seated. "Don't know where I'd be without you." Upon uttering that old, worn-out phrase, she slapped my knee in what I'm sure she thought was a friendly gesture and promptly fell silent.
It would be ten minutes before I realized she'd passed out.
Reading the paper the next morning, listening to my father munching away happily at his Captain Crunch cereal, I wondered to myself how my life had changed in the past 11 years since I'd moved back to Seattle. Same furniture, same dog, same father (I sighed with discontent as he wiped his mouth with his shirt sleeve). The only thing that had changed, really, was the quality of the relationships within these walls. At least I could be thankful that my father and I now got along.
But I was still alone. No steady girlfriend. No girlfriend at all, really. It was hard to remember the last time I'd even had a real date. I was getting older every day - no, every hour- and I still didn't have a woman to share my life with. The thought, as depressing as it was, seemed like the only thing I could think of these days.
Suddenly the door to the apartment swung open, breaking my concentration, and there stood my brother. Disheveled, panting heavily, looking almost ill, he was clinging desperately to the door frame with a helpless look on his face.
"Niles, are you alright?" I asked worriedly, and hurried over to help him walk to the couch. "You look like you've just seen a ghost." He slumped onto the sofa and leaned against it like he'd been walking for days.
"Oh, Frasier," he moaned, "the most awful thing has happened." He looked up at me with bright, sad, wide blue eyes and breathed, "Daphne has left me."
"What? Why?!" Appalled, I immediately sat down beside him, staring at him intently.
"Oh, calm down Niles," my father said, limping over to the sofa and frowning down at Niles. "She's just driving down to Oregon with her mother for a few days."
"Oh, right, I remember that," I said, rolling my eyes. "Is that honestly why you look half-dead, Niles? Because your wife is going away for a long weekend without you? Please, you'll be fine."
"I thought I would be," Niles admitted, still breathing heavily, "but it's horrible without her. The entire apartment is silent. I've forgotten how to do everything! Suddenly I can't cook, I can't clean, it's like I'm helpless without her."
"Oh, Niles, you're such a drama queen," I chided, walking to the kitchen to get him a glass of water. "You'll be fine without Daphne for a few days."
"Yes, but I'd feel a lot better if I weren't in such an empty house," he said slowly, eying me as I handed him the glass. "You know, if I were around people."
"Niles, you are not staying here with us just because you can't stand to be without your wife for a weekend." I started to walk to my bedroom. "The last time you stayed here, you kept me up all night with your psychobabble, and I need to get a good night's sleep tonight because there's a fresh new female face coming to KACL tomorrow and I can't wait to lay on the charm."
"Fine!" he yelled at me as I disappeared from his view. "I know when I'm not wanted. You're right, Frasier, I'll be fine on my own. I'm not that dependant on Daphne!"
Famous last words.