"You're painted on my heart, darling
Stuck to my thoughts with passion's paste
And though I love you so, darling
My brain is sure this love's a waste"
Daphne was awake, but did not open her eyes. She could tell it was morning, because she had that distinct feeling that one got in the morning. The one where you knew you were supposed to be up and doing things, but you weren't, so the guilty feeling in your subconscious woke you up and you just stayed in bed until the last possible moment...
It was a Friday, and it felt like 9:26am, perhaps. She was supposed to be starting on the laundry right now, but she didn't really want to. She didn't really feel like doing anything, which was a first for her. There had, of course, been days when she wanted to procrastinate, but never days when she didn't want to do anything at all. She wondered why that was, and let out a yawn. Then, deciding that she might as well get up now, she opened her eyes.
And saw Dr. Crane.
She didn't move, and -- thinking quickly, as she always tried to -- assessed the situation. Her head was on Dr. Crane's chest, and his arm around her waist. For a moment, she panicked, terrified of what might have transpired... and then she remembered. She remembered her keys being in her car and Dr. Crane driving her home. She remembered him dancing with her, and staying with her when she realized she was locked out...
She glanced up at him, being careful not to move too much in case he was still sleeping. That was the appearance he gave -- deep and peaceful sleep. Those eyes of his closed and his breathing slow and steady... Daphne was going to try and get up without waking him, and she carefully began to sidle away... but then:
"Please stay,"
She tilted her head around to look at Dr. Crane again, and found that his eyes were still closed, but his lips were bent down into a grimace.
"I know you have things to do," he said. "and I know this is probably very uncomfortable... I just need to live this moment a bit longer, is all..."
She drew a breath and held it... and the slow rhythm of his heartbeat paused as well. He was so calm, quiet, and subtley charming... His gentle intonations and and almost child-like hope -- she didn't want to see the look he had in his eyes last night ever again. As she stared up at him, her breath eased back, and his heartbeat did the same.
"Alright, Dr. Crane. I'll stay..."
Anything to make you happy for a few moments longer.
She relaxed slightly, focusing on the soft thumping from his chest. Beat. Beat. Beat. Beat.
"In my dreams," he said, sounding as though he were lost in one at the moment, "we spend most of our free time just like this. Sometimes on a lawn, sometimes on the sofa... but wherever it is, this is the exact position we're in."
That sounds lovely...
"And sometimes I read to you," he continued. "poetry and things. It's a very nice thing to imagine when I'm feeling particularly down."
I really must ask you to read to me sometime. I'll bet you'll tell marvelous stories to your children...
There were a few minutes of absolute silence, the two of them just breathing and being. And contrary to what Dr. Crane had said, this was not awkward for Daphne. She felt as comfortable as she might be by herself. Dr. Crane didn't feel exactly like Dr. Crane anymore...
The door to the other Dr. Crane's apartment opened, and Mr. Crane stepped out with a small grin on his face.
"Hey, Daph," he said cheerfully. "Hey, Niles. I hope you don't mind me interrupting, but I though it might be time for one of you to get started with work..."
Daphne sat up and rubbed her eyes. "Alright, alright..." she muttered. "I'm up, old man..."
And with that, she went inside to have a quick shower and get started with her work.
"So..."
Niles opened one eye and looked up at his dad. "So, what?"
"So... That looked like fun,"
"Not so much fun as... well... in reality it was something for my fantasies to use as building blocks. But it felt somehow fulfilling,"
"That's 'cause you're in love, son."
"I know..."
He did know. He had known for six beautifully tortured years, and yet nothing ever seemed to change. In the end, she always left. Always.
"Niles... I really hate to bother you about this," Martin Crane said, sighing. "but did you ever think you should just... I dunno... Tell her, and kiss her hard on the mouth?"
"...What?"
"Worked in old movies, is all I'm saying."
"Dad," Niles said. "I appreciate your advice, but this is Daphne. She isn't some Scarlett O'Hara or Jane Eyre... she isn't the type to fall head-over-heels because of some groundbreaking kiss."
Martin laughed. "I guess you're right," he said with another smile. "but You've tried nearly everything else, haven't you? You've tried being gentlemanly. Maybe she's already nuts for you, but she just needs a smack in the face to get her to realize it..."
Maybe, Niles thought. Maybe...