A lot of our Frasier's group's members are trying their hand at writing for
the first time. All right! This is dedicated to them and to all Frasier
fanfic writers and to all fanfic readers who send feedback in support.
Y'all are going to get us through this looooooong summer. Cheers!
Away from it All (part 7)
It did not feel better to get away from her. Not that Niles felt his problems could be solved geographically; at this point he doubted anything would help except, perhaps, some sort of reverse transubstantiation. He rather liked the idea of trading in this existence for the life of a nice, uncomplicated loaf of bread.
He was tired. God, he was tired. He had barely slept at all during the past three days. His last full night's sleep had been next to Mel. He remembered thinking, as they lay side by side in identical scented sleep masks, that his life - that dark pit of devastation brought on by Daphne's engagement - was finally becoming better.
If he could turn back time he would go to that moment and freeze it there forever. He had not been entirely truthful with Daphne earlier. He did not have to go to Seattle to call his patients; he had everything he needed to conduct business right here in this office. There was only one call he could not make from the cottage because it just did not feel right.
He phoned Mel from the Montana to tell her he would be staying the week at Shady Glen but had not told her he was here with Daphne. He had meant to, but had not. The sin of omission was bad enough when he had made it and that was before spending a week with an engaged woman had become spending a week with an unengaged woman.
What would Mel have to say about that if he called her again now? If he were not so tired he might jump back into his car and drive to the nearest airport. He would take a plane back to Mel and to a world that made sense. Running away may not be the bravest thing he could do but it was manlier than his first choice which was to crawl under a piano, curl up into a ball and wail like a lost toddler.
He was moments away from baying at the moon anyway. How could Daphne do this to him? Niles had placed that call to Mel before going to Frasier's. Immediately before. Mere moments before setting out to his brother's he had told Mel he had made the decision - though not in those words - to stay true to the wedding ring. Although it had simply been reconfirmation of his earlier promise, it had also been a big step. Finally he was resolved on where both Mel and Daphne were to fit into his life.
Then he had gone to Frasier's and they told him the news. Daphne, the woman he was resigned to lose, was no longer engaged.
He was going to be sick. The years of wanting and not having, the months of trying to piece together a heart gashed to bits by her engagement, of trying to put it back into semi-heartshape... now this. Still fragile and still leaking the odd drop of blood, that same heart had proved yet again the eternal ground zero for Hurricane Daphne. Once more she had touched down on the most vulnerable spot, demolishing and scattering the fragments of his being in the process.
His eyes had not left the door since he had come in. He was half afraid Daphne would knock on his door, but she didn't. Was it possible he had found a safe space? The clutched muscles in his shoulders and abdomen loosened slightly. If Frasier were here he would tell Niles to grow up. And since Frasier was not here, Niles was inclined to agree that his brother had a point. There was a huge difference between an office and the underbelly of a piano. One was a place where children hid, the other where adults worked.
Niles opened his briefcase. Daphne could not be his only concern. She could not. He had to call his patients. He wrote a list. Handle the Monday appointments; the rest can be done tomorrow. Call Jennifer and ask her to see the ones who cannot make the week without someone to talk to. Get Daphne out of your mind.
The tough part was dialing, the rest was therapy. Apologies and arrangements were made efficiently in a reassuring professional tone that calmed both his patients and himself. When he was done he sat back in his chair almost fully relaxed and wondered whether it was too late to keep going. Continue with Tuesday's patients. Wednesday's. Thursday's...
Niles awoke with a start. Where was he? It took several seconds to remember. It was nearly 2 in the morning. He must have dropped off in his chair after making the calls. That was unlike him; he usually found it impossible to fall asleep without a lengthy and precise pre-bed routine. Perhaps on top of everything else his narcolepsy had returned and wouldn't that be just dandy?
Niles stretched, his stiff muscles grating painfully against one another. A piece of notepaper fell from his cheek. A list of tomorrow's - today's - patients. All checked off, thank god. He touched his face and found the groove left where he had chosen to use his pen as a pillow. Fingers moving upwards told him his hair was a mess as well. There was a reason for his ante dormire rituals.
If not entirely refreshed, the five-odd hours of sleep had helped. He could now muster the courage to stand up, go upstairs, shower, change and hibernate until the end of the week. He opened the door to his study.
Needless to say it was a bit of a shock to find that the coast was not clear. In the stillness of the late night, the turn of the door handle was enough to draw the attention of the hollow-eyed sentinel who sat waiting for him.
"I thought you might fancy a sandwich," she said. If it was a peace offering, it was made half-heartedly, with barely a wave in the direction of the sideboard. She did not look at him.
All Niles wanted was to go straight up to bed but when had he ever said no to Daphne? As he walked towards the plate, Daphne's glazed expression sharpened and her posture straightened a little, like an animal sensing the approach of a predator. Niles' own fight or flight instincts would have been more at ease in a roomful of wolves. Or Marises.
He could not bring himself to touch the sandwich. The idea of food made him ill but how was he to back away from the food without initiating conversation? Just because he had been harbouring fantasies of a murder- suicide did not mean he wanted to hurt Daphne's feelings. He hazarded another glance in her direction. Her face was haunted and dark with shadows. She looked exactly the way she had looked at Frasier's, when Niles had so gallantly offered to sweep her up and take her away from it all. Some rescue this had turned out to be.
"You're angry," she said, her voice lonely in the silence.
"I don't know what I am."
"You're angry," Daphne repeated. "I was afraid you would be. How did your brother know?"
"Donny went to the house to pick up his cell phone. Apparently he had left it behind after you two... anyway, he told them."
"Are they angry as well?"
"They are worried sick about you." It took effort to control the volume of his voice. The tide was rising. She was right; he was angry.
"What did you tell them?"
"That I'd spoken to you recently, that I had no idea you had broken up. That you had only said you needed time away."
"All true."
"I didn't want to risk a nosebleed." He did not know what felt worse; that he was snapping at Daphne or that it seemed to have no effect on her. "I brought your music box."
"Did you look inside?"
"No, I... yes." She must have known why he had chosen that moment to mention it. She seemed unfazed by this invasion of privacy.
"So you saw..."
"Your engagement ring and what appeared to be twin wedding bands." He had been so obsessed with his own wedding ring that he had not noticed until he returned from Seattle that Daphne's fingers were bare.
"Donny asked me to pick them up Friday morning." While Niles was busy trying hard not to fall to pieces, Daphne's face and voice remained expressionless. "Then he came to the apartment and... it was over. Just like that. I knew you would be cross."
"How did you... Why did you think I would be upset?" He was but he would love to know why she thought he should be.
"Because I knew how difficult it would be for you to forgive." The first hint of emotion crept into her voice. "Because you would never do anything like this. You are not the kind of man who would leave one woman for another, even if in your heart you knew the woman you intended to marry was not the woman you truly loved."
"Wait a minute," Man? Another woman? What? "Are you saying..." No, it could not be. Niles stared at Daphne. "Are you saying it was Donny who broke things off with you?"
"What? I..." she did not continue but it did not matter. Too many thoughts whirred through Niles' mind for him to pay any mind to outside voices, even Daphne's.
"Why, that is unforgivable!" he sputtered. With no more reason to hold them closed, the floodgates sprang open. If he lived long enough to see the 22nd century, Niles would never get over the stupidity of men. It was bad enough that he himself had let Daphne slip though his fingers, but Donny...Eric, Joe, Rodney and countless others had all held heaven's own treasure in their hands and had consciously cast her away. "When Frasier told me he made it sound... or I just assumed...my god, I'm so sorry."
Niles sat down on the couch next to her. "Daphne, you did not deserve him. If he was such a fool as to think he could ever have someone better than you, then he deserves to lose you. And if he did this to you, so close to your wedding day, he has absolutely no sense of honor or decency."
"Dr. Crane..." Daphne looked stricken.
"Don't defend him, he is worthy of only of contempt." Whatever feelings of ambiguity had plagued him when he thought it was Daphne who had made the decision vanished now that he knew it was Donny. Niles' rage turned murderous. He thought about how happy Daphne had looked when she accepted Donny's proposal. How happy she had always been with him.
"If he wasn't sure he should have never...that bastard. " Donny had seemed crazy about Daphne but now it turned out he was just plain crazy. Mad. Certifiable. Criminally insane. "He is a despicable brute, Daphne. A lying, thieving, blackguard, no, worse, a lawyer with the intelligence of synthetic lint and the ethics of a...
"Dr. Crane, please..." Daphne's voice broke and a veil of red covered Niles' eyes. He wanted to kill. How dare anyone hurt her like that.
"Daphne, that man cannot..."
"Stop, please!" Daphne burst into tears. "This is why I didn't say anything to you, I just knew you would be so cross."
"Oh, Daphne." Niles' heart, so interconnected with Daphne's, broke with hers, which proved as effective as a sobering slap across the face. The veil dissipated. As much as he would like to strangle Donny with his bare hands, Daphne was more important now. Always.
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you, I am," she sobbed. "I didn't lie to you, I just needed some time away. I could not stay in the city a minute longer, not when I felt I'd lost the one man I truly loved."
The one man. A punch square in the chest. Why, he wanted to ask. Why could she love someone who treated her in this manner and not someone who would worship her until the end of his days? Daphne had crumbled in on herself and was crying into the arm of the sofa. His poor, broken angel.
"Are you sure you have lost him?"
"Yes," Daphne choked out the words between heaves. "He loves someone else. I've lost him forever."
Niles vision blurred and he quickly rubbed his eyes dry. "I'm so sorry," he said. At that moment he would have given anything to get Donny back for her. Damn that man.
"It was my own fault. I never really told him how I felt. I myself didn't know until it was too late."
"I can't believe Donny would...."
"Dr. Crane, please. Can we talk about something else?"
"Of course." If that was all he could give her it was what she would have. But she did not seem ready to talk at all. His burst of fury had subsided, leaving him numb as he tried to take it all in. After a year Daphne was free yet she was not. Her heart was grieving and still tied to Donny, the only man she ever really loved. Niles reached out to her but she turned away and all the anger he thought had evaporated returned with fangs and with a mean appetite, mostly for Donny but for men in general, for Niles himself in particular, he having betrayed her in his own way.
He sat next to her helplessly, watching her cry. For six painful, wonderful years he had been Daphne's confidant in matters of love, someone who always knew whom she was dating and when.
"You are so much easier to talk to than either your father or your brother," she used to tell him. "I always feel I can tell you these things." Lucky him. But for some reason, very likely because he had removed himself from her over the past year, Daphne had not allowed herself to come to him when she so badly needed a friend, even here alone and far from everyone else. For that he deserved his own little platform on the gallows. Right next to Donny.
"Daphne, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I've been very unfair to you, nothing like the friend I want to be." She only cried harder. She obviously was not ready for this conversation but it was killing him to see her cry like this. Killing him.
"Hey, I brought you something," he said. The change of subject worked a small miracle. Sobs ebbed as Daphne looked up and watched him run for his luggage. She actually smiled when he returned with his prize.
"It's London!" she exclaimed. Niles, who had archived millions of mental images of Daphne over the years had never seen her smile through tears and reeled from the serious effect it had on his soul. Weakly, he handed her the puzzle he had dug up at The Montana. "Good lord," she said, wiping her eyes. "It's ten thousand pieces!"
"And I think we should stay put until it's done," Niles' attempt at light- heartedness would have been more effective had it not been croaked.
"Really?" Now, why would she ask that? Sparkling eyes through damp lashes caused another surge that deregulated normal ventricular operation. Generous, good-hearted Daphne, always so quick to forgive.
"Absolutely," he said. She smiled at him again, leaving him weak-kneed. He sat back down next to her. He had no idea how, but it would appear he had finally done and said something right. Daphne was admiring the box as if it were an expensive Christmas gift, rather than a sudden, inspired thought he had had halfway to Seattle.
"It's mostly rooftops," he pointed out helpfully.
"So it is," she beamed. "This will take forever."
"Then we'll stay forever," he said, meaning it but already knowing she would take it only as a joke. A quick shadow of pain passed over her face before the smile returned, softer than before but just as real.
"Thank you, Dr. Crane." The glistening of her eyes became more pronounced.
His arms ached to hug her but her earlier rejection still stung. "Look, about the puzzle, it's quite a big task we have ahead of us, so why don't we both go get a good night's sleep, before we start? Okay?"
"Yes, you're right." Reluctantly, she set the puzzle down. "So, we'll start on this tomorrow, shall we?"
Daphne's conscience started in on her as she waited for Dr. Crane to finish locking up. She knew she was doing a terrible thing. No, not just one. She had probably done more terrible things in these past few days than she had the rest of her life put together.
Breaking up with Donny had been just the start. Almost kissing a married man was yet another proud moment. And now she had Dr. Crane blaming Donny for her broken engagement. She still had no idea how that happened, but it did not change that she had given up trying to correct him. Donny, whom she had already hurt so badly, stood accused of the crime Daphne had committed.
Why had it never occurred to her that Dr. Crane might find out about all this when he went to Seattle? Very likely because she had barely given it a thought herself. She would have never believed she was the type of woman who could forget one man so soon in favour of another, but here she was, with the romantic attention span of someone off daytime television.
She should be grateful that there was a higher power punishing her for her misdeeds, as timely as the alarm on her watch. She had called off her marriage on Friday morning, just a few hours before Mel had telephoned with news her elopement with Dr. Crane. She had not broken up with Donny because she expected a future with anyone else, she had just finally acknowledged that she could not marry one man when all her waking - and most of her sleeping - thoughts were engaged with another.
She was ashamed that she had put Donny out of her mind so easily. She truly had loved him. She loved him still but not in the way she loved the man who had been her friend for seven years. Her conscience told her that was no excuse. She had accepted Donny's proposal when she felt in her heart she should have broken up with him. They had made wedding plans and plans for a shared forever. Then she had dumped him and only days later sat by passively as the man she loved dragged her ex-fiancé's name through mud. Her mud.
Dr. Crane switched off the last light and followed her upstairs. Now. She should set him straight now. She should just stop here on this step and turn around, do at least one thing right by Donny and let the blame fall where it belonged.
The steps ended and they were in front of his door. Not his door, the guestroom door. The room he had taken in order to give her the nicest room in the cottage. His blue eyes gazed at her. He fidgeted a little, as he always did when she gazed back at him. It had taken seven years to find out why.
Just tell him, once and for all.
"Dr. Crane..." she stopped as he tried to conceal a yawn.
He looked tired. Rumpled. But not upset the way he had been when he returned from Seattle. The scale of his reaction to news of her broken engagement had shocked her. She had seen him angry with his brother, even with his wife, but this anger had been different, and not just because it was directed at her. It was more than anger. Disappointment, she guessed. He had always had such nice things to say about her and he had once even been in love with her. He probably never imagined she could do something so awful as to break her promise to, not to mention the heart of, a good man.
It should not have surprised her that he would react so strongly. She knew how much he valued the sacredness of marriage. His brother claimed that he had been in love with her even when he was with Mrs. Crane - the first Mrs. Crane, that was - but he never showed a moment of impropriety. Quite the opposite, he gave every last bit of effort and then some to save his marriage. How could someone so honorable pardon such dishonorable behavior in anyone else?
As they stood fidgeting in the hallway, Daphne suddenly realized something else, something even worse. Dr. Crane's first marriage had finally dissolved when his wife fell in love with someone else. He knew firsthand about this sort of betrayal; he had lived it. It must have been a terrible shock that Daphne, a person he thought he knew, would treat a man as cruelly as his wife had treated him. Her conscience was right; she deserved every bit of contempt he held for such people.
Yet the look in his blue eyes was nothing like the look they had held earlier that evening. He did not hate her. They were concerned and tired and now, with her pausing in front of his door, a little uneasy, but they were not angry. Earlier he had seemed revitalized, almost ecstatic when he had been able to shift the blame from Daphne to Donny. It was almost as if he needed to believe that there was one woman he knew who was incapable of such actions. Of course, it all made sense now; being newly married the last think he needed was to be reminded that women could and did leave with hardly a backward glance.
It was not right to do this to him, not yet.
"I just wanted to say... I'm sorry I did not talk to you sooner."
"No, it really was not my place..." he stopped. "This is normally where I would insist it was none of my business, but... I care about you, Daphne."
She was going to cry again. At this moment it was impossible to know whether those words were the kindest or the most painful words he could have said.
"Good night," she said, making her escape before everything spilled out. He would find out the truth eventually but for now she saw no good in telling him. She did not want him to despise her for what she had done to Donny. She was already busy despising herself.
She closed the door to her room - his room - and let the tears flow. Everything he had said about Donny was true about her. She was the despicable brute. The liar. Her one small consolation was that they were staying. After seeing his face when he returned from Seattle she had been so sure they would be leaving the next day, if not that very night. She had hardly believed it when he had pulled out that puzzle but knew right away what it meant. They were staying.
Daphne dropped her bag next to her bed. It was the bag she had packed for her trip with Donny, their week in New York. Donny hated New York but had surprised her with the trip because she wanted to go. He had even found someone to take care of Mr. Crane's exercises so her boss would not gripe too much about the unscheduled time off. Some of the clothes she had packed were a bit too dressy or sexy for mountains, lakes and friendships, but most were serviceable.
Dr. Crane, her host, had handed her music box to her before going round to lock up. She did not open it. She had pushed Donny so far out of her mind that she had not thought about what it contained when she asked for it. Three rings, two picked up at the jewelers just days earlier, the other removed permanently from her finger soon after. It was the moment she had held the wedding rings in her hand that she knew she could not go through with it. She had called Donny at work and asked to meet with him for dinner but he must have heard something in her voice because he went directly to the apartment. She had been so sure that she would remember the look on his face until the end of her days, but she had forgotten it almost instantly, replacing it with someone else's.
Two days later, Donny's shocked, stricken eyes were coming back to haunt her. And so it should. She knew enough from life experience that one does not call up someone whose heart she's broken to find out how he is doing. She knew time and distance were the only healers for such pain.
Like the time and distance you are putting between yourself and Dr. Crane, her conscience asked. Shut up, she told it.
Daphne sat on the bed, running her fingers over her music box carving. She may have made a mess of things but it really was too late for her to tell Dr. Crane she was the one who had called off the wedding. After all, if she did she would also have to explain that when she said she had lost the one man she truly loved, she had not been talking about Donny.
Away from it All (part 7)
It did not feel better to get away from her. Not that Niles felt his problems could be solved geographically; at this point he doubted anything would help except, perhaps, some sort of reverse transubstantiation. He rather liked the idea of trading in this existence for the life of a nice, uncomplicated loaf of bread.
He was tired. God, he was tired. He had barely slept at all during the past three days. His last full night's sleep had been next to Mel. He remembered thinking, as they lay side by side in identical scented sleep masks, that his life - that dark pit of devastation brought on by Daphne's engagement - was finally becoming better.
If he could turn back time he would go to that moment and freeze it there forever. He had not been entirely truthful with Daphne earlier. He did not have to go to Seattle to call his patients; he had everything he needed to conduct business right here in this office. There was only one call he could not make from the cottage because it just did not feel right.
He phoned Mel from the Montana to tell her he would be staying the week at Shady Glen but had not told her he was here with Daphne. He had meant to, but had not. The sin of omission was bad enough when he had made it and that was before spending a week with an engaged woman had become spending a week with an unengaged woman.
What would Mel have to say about that if he called her again now? If he were not so tired he might jump back into his car and drive to the nearest airport. He would take a plane back to Mel and to a world that made sense. Running away may not be the bravest thing he could do but it was manlier than his first choice which was to crawl under a piano, curl up into a ball and wail like a lost toddler.
He was moments away from baying at the moon anyway. How could Daphne do this to him? Niles had placed that call to Mel before going to Frasier's. Immediately before. Mere moments before setting out to his brother's he had told Mel he had made the decision - though not in those words - to stay true to the wedding ring. Although it had simply been reconfirmation of his earlier promise, it had also been a big step. Finally he was resolved on where both Mel and Daphne were to fit into his life.
Then he had gone to Frasier's and they told him the news. Daphne, the woman he was resigned to lose, was no longer engaged.
He was going to be sick. The years of wanting and not having, the months of trying to piece together a heart gashed to bits by her engagement, of trying to put it back into semi-heartshape... now this. Still fragile and still leaking the odd drop of blood, that same heart had proved yet again the eternal ground zero for Hurricane Daphne. Once more she had touched down on the most vulnerable spot, demolishing and scattering the fragments of his being in the process.
His eyes had not left the door since he had come in. He was half afraid Daphne would knock on his door, but she didn't. Was it possible he had found a safe space? The clutched muscles in his shoulders and abdomen loosened slightly. If Frasier were here he would tell Niles to grow up. And since Frasier was not here, Niles was inclined to agree that his brother had a point. There was a huge difference between an office and the underbelly of a piano. One was a place where children hid, the other where adults worked.
Niles opened his briefcase. Daphne could not be his only concern. She could not. He had to call his patients. He wrote a list. Handle the Monday appointments; the rest can be done tomorrow. Call Jennifer and ask her to see the ones who cannot make the week without someone to talk to. Get Daphne out of your mind.
The tough part was dialing, the rest was therapy. Apologies and arrangements were made efficiently in a reassuring professional tone that calmed both his patients and himself. When he was done he sat back in his chair almost fully relaxed and wondered whether it was too late to keep going. Continue with Tuesday's patients. Wednesday's. Thursday's...
Niles awoke with a start. Where was he? It took several seconds to remember. It was nearly 2 in the morning. He must have dropped off in his chair after making the calls. That was unlike him; he usually found it impossible to fall asleep without a lengthy and precise pre-bed routine. Perhaps on top of everything else his narcolepsy had returned and wouldn't that be just dandy?
Niles stretched, his stiff muscles grating painfully against one another. A piece of notepaper fell from his cheek. A list of tomorrow's - today's - patients. All checked off, thank god. He touched his face and found the groove left where he had chosen to use his pen as a pillow. Fingers moving upwards told him his hair was a mess as well. There was a reason for his ante dormire rituals.
If not entirely refreshed, the five-odd hours of sleep had helped. He could now muster the courage to stand up, go upstairs, shower, change and hibernate until the end of the week. He opened the door to his study.
Needless to say it was a bit of a shock to find that the coast was not clear. In the stillness of the late night, the turn of the door handle was enough to draw the attention of the hollow-eyed sentinel who sat waiting for him.
"I thought you might fancy a sandwich," she said. If it was a peace offering, it was made half-heartedly, with barely a wave in the direction of the sideboard. She did not look at him.
All Niles wanted was to go straight up to bed but when had he ever said no to Daphne? As he walked towards the plate, Daphne's glazed expression sharpened and her posture straightened a little, like an animal sensing the approach of a predator. Niles' own fight or flight instincts would have been more at ease in a roomful of wolves. Or Marises.
He could not bring himself to touch the sandwich. The idea of food made him ill but how was he to back away from the food without initiating conversation? Just because he had been harbouring fantasies of a murder- suicide did not mean he wanted to hurt Daphne's feelings. He hazarded another glance in her direction. Her face was haunted and dark with shadows. She looked exactly the way she had looked at Frasier's, when Niles had so gallantly offered to sweep her up and take her away from it all. Some rescue this had turned out to be.
"You're angry," she said, her voice lonely in the silence.
"I don't know what I am."
"You're angry," Daphne repeated. "I was afraid you would be. How did your brother know?"
"Donny went to the house to pick up his cell phone. Apparently he had left it behind after you two... anyway, he told them."
"Are they angry as well?"
"They are worried sick about you." It took effort to control the volume of his voice. The tide was rising. She was right; he was angry.
"What did you tell them?"
"That I'd spoken to you recently, that I had no idea you had broken up. That you had only said you needed time away."
"All true."
"I didn't want to risk a nosebleed." He did not know what felt worse; that he was snapping at Daphne or that it seemed to have no effect on her. "I brought your music box."
"Did you look inside?"
"No, I... yes." She must have known why he had chosen that moment to mention it. She seemed unfazed by this invasion of privacy.
"So you saw..."
"Your engagement ring and what appeared to be twin wedding bands." He had been so obsessed with his own wedding ring that he had not noticed until he returned from Seattle that Daphne's fingers were bare.
"Donny asked me to pick them up Friday morning." While Niles was busy trying hard not to fall to pieces, Daphne's face and voice remained expressionless. "Then he came to the apartment and... it was over. Just like that. I knew you would be cross."
"How did you... Why did you think I would be upset?" He was but he would love to know why she thought he should be.
"Because I knew how difficult it would be for you to forgive." The first hint of emotion crept into her voice. "Because you would never do anything like this. You are not the kind of man who would leave one woman for another, even if in your heart you knew the woman you intended to marry was not the woman you truly loved."
"Wait a minute," Man? Another woman? What? "Are you saying..." No, it could not be. Niles stared at Daphne. "Are you saying it was Donny who broke things off with you?"
"What? I..." she did not continue but it did not matter. Too many thoughts whirred through Niles' mind for him to pay any mind to outside voices, even Daphne's.
"Why, that is unforgivable!" he sputtered. With no more reason to hold them closed, the floodgates sprang open. If he lived long enough to see the 22nd century, Niles would never get over the stupidity of men. It was bad enough that he himself had let Daphne slip though his fingers, but Donny...Eric, Joe, Rodney and countless others had all held heaven's own treasure in their hands and had consciously cast her away. "When Frasier told me he made it sound... or I just assumed...my god, I'm so sorry."
Niles sat down on the couch next to her. "Daphne, you did not deserve him. If he was such a fool as to think he could ever have someone better than you, then he deserves to lose you. And if he did this to you, so close to your wedding day, he has absolutely no sense of honor or decency."
"Dr. Crane..." Daphne looked stricken.
"Don't defend him, he is worthy of only of contempt." Whatever feelings of ambiguity had plagued him when he thought it was Daphne who had made the decision vanished now that he knew it was Donny. Niles' rage turned murderous. He thought about how happy Daphne had looked when she accepted Donny's proposal. How happy she had always been with him.
"If he wasn't sure he should have never...that bastard. " Donny had seemed crazy about Daphne but now it turned out he was just plain crazy. Mad. Certifiable. Criminally insane. "He is a despicable brute, Daphne. A lying, thieving, blackguard, no, worse, a lawyer with the intelligence of synthetic lint and the ethics of a...
"Dr. Crane, please..." Daphne's voice broke and a veil of red covered Niles' eyes. He wanted to kill. How dare anyone hurt her like that.
"Daphne, that man cannot..."
"Stop, please!" Daphne burst into tears. "This is why I didn't say anything to you, I just knew you would be so cross."
"Oh, Daphne." Niles' heart, so interconnected with Daphne's, broke with hers, which proved as effective as a sobering slap across the face. The veil dissipated. As much as he would like to strangle Donny with his bare hands, Daphne was more important now. Always.
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you, I am," she sobbed. "I didn't lie to you, I just needed some time away. I could not stay in the city a minute longer, not when I felt I'd lost the one man I truly loved."
The one man. A punch square in the chest. Why, he wanted to ask. Why could she love someone who treated her in this manner and not someone who would worship her until the end of his days? Daphne had crumbled in on herself and was crying into the arm of the sofa. His poor, broken angel.
"Are you sure you have lost him?"
"Yes," Daphne choked out the words between heaves. "He loves someone else. I've lost him forever."
Niles vision blurred and he quickly rubbed his eyes dry. "I'm so sorry," he said. At that moment he would have given anything to get Donny back for her. Damn that man.
"It was my own fault. I never really told him how I felt. I myself didn't know until it was too late."
"I can't believe Donny would...."
"Dr. Crane, please. Can we talk about something else?"
"Of course." If that was all he could give her it was what she would have. But she did not seem ready to talk at all. His burst of fury had subsided, leaving him numb as he tried to take it all in. After a year Daphne was free yet she was not. Her heart was grieving and still tied to Donny, the only man she ever really loved. Niles reached out to her but she turned away and all the anger he thought had evaporated returned with fangs and with a mean appetite, mostly for Donny but for men in general, for Niles himself in particular, he having betrayed her in his own way.
He sat next to her helplessly, watching her cry. For six painful, wonderful years he had been Daphne's confidant in matters of love, someone who always knew whom she was dating and when.
"You are so much easier to talk to than either your father or your brother," she used to tell him. "I always feel I can tell you these things." Lucky him. But for some reason, very likely because he had removed himself from her over the past year, Daphne had not allowed herself to come to him when she so badly needed a friend, even here alone and far from everyone else. For that he deserved his own little platform on the gallows. Right next to Donny.
"Daphne, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I've been very unfair to you, nothing like the friend I want to be." She only cried harder. She obviously was not ready for this conversation but it was killing him to see her cry like this. Killing him.
"Hey, I brought you something," he said. The change of subject worked a small miracle. Sobs ebbed as Daphne looked up and watched him run for his luggage. She actually smiled when he returned with his prize.
"It's London!" she exclaimed. Niles, who had archived millions of mental images of Daphne over the years had never seen her smile through tears and reeled from the serious effect it had on his soul. Weakly, he handed her the puzzle he had dug up at The Montana. "Good lord," she said, wiping her eyes. "It's ten thousand pieces!"
"And I think we should stay put until it's done," Niles' attempt at light- heartedness would have been more effective had it not been croaked.
"Really?" Now, why would she ask that? Sparkling eyes through damp lashes caused another surge that deregulated normal ventricular operation. Generous, good-hearted Daphne, always so quick to forgive.
"Absolutely," he said. She smiled at him again, leaving him weak-kneed. He sat back down next to her. He had no idea how, but it would appear he had finally done and said something right. Daphne was admiring the box as if it were an expensive Christmas gift, rather than a sudden, inspired thought he had had halfway to Seattle.
"It's mostly rooftops," he pointed out helpfully.
"So it is," she beamed. "This will take forever."
"Then we'll stay forever," he said, meaning it but already knowing she would take it only as a joke. A quick shadow of pain passed over her face before the smile returned, softer than before but just as real.
"Thank you, Dr. Crane." The glistening of her eyes became more pronounced.
His arms ached to hug her but her earlier rejection still stung. "Look, about the puzzle, it's quite a big task we have ahead of us, so why don't we both go get a good night's sleep, before we start? Okay?"
"Yes, you're right." Reluctantly, she set the puzzle down. "So, we'll start on this tomorrow, shall we?"
Daphne's conscience started in on her as she waited for Dr. Crane to finish locking up. She knew she was doing a terrible thing. No, not just one. She had probably done more terrible things in these past few days than she had the rest of her life put together.
Breaking up with Donny had been just the start. Almost kissing a married man was yet another proud moment. And now she had Dr. Crane blaming Donny for her broken engagement. She still had no idea how that happened, but it did not change that she had given up trying to correct him. Donny, whom she had already hurt so badly, stood accused of the crime Daphne had committed.
Why had it never occurred to her that Dr. Crane might find out about all this when he went to Seattle? Very likely because she had barely given it a thought herself. She would have never believed she was the type of woman who could forget one man so soon in favour of another, but here she was, with the romantic attention span of someone off daytime television.
She should be grateful that there was a higher power punishing her for her misdeeds, as timely as the alarm on her watch. She had called off her marriage on Friday morning, just a few hours before Mel had telephoned with news her elopement with Dr. Crane. She had not broken up with Donny because she expected a future with anyone else, she had just finally acknowledged that she could not marry one man when all her waking - and most of her sleeping - thoughts were engaged with another.
She was ashamed that she had put Donny out of her mind so easily. She truly had loved him. She loved him still but not in the way she loved the man who had been her friend for seven years. Her conscience told her that was no excuse. She had accepted Donny's proposal when she felt in her heart she should have broken up with him. They had made wedding plans and plans for a shared forever. Then she had dumped him and only days later sat by passively as the man she loved dragged her ex-fiancé's name through mud. Her mud.
Dr. Crane switched off the last light and followed her upstairs. Now. She should set him straight now. She should just stop here on this step and turn around, do at least one thing right by Donny and let the blame fall where it belonged.
The steps ended and they were in front of his door. Not his door, the guestroom door. The room he had taken in order to give her the nicest room in the cottage. His blue eyes gazed at her. He fidgeted a little, as he always did when she gazed back at him. It had taken seven years to find out why.
Just tell him, once and for all.
"Dr. Crane..." she stopped as he tried to conceal a yawn.
He looked tired. Rumpled. But not upset the way he had been when he returned from Seattle. The scale of his reaction to news of her broken engagement had shocked her. She had seen him angry with his brother, even with his wife, but this anger had been different, and not just because it was directed at her. It was more than anger. Disappointment, she guessed. He had always had such nice things to say about her and he had once even been in love with her. He probably never imagined she could do something so awful as to break her promise to, not to mention the heart of, a good man.
It should not have surprised her that he would react so strongly. She knew how much he valued the sacredness of marriage. His brother claimed that he had been in love with her even when he was with Mrs. Crane - the first Mrs. Crane, that was - but he never showed a moment of impropriety. Quite the opposite, he gave every last bit of effort and then some to save his marriage. How could someone so honorable pardon such dishonorable behavior in anyone else?
As they stood fidgeting in the hallway, Daphne suddenly realized something else, something even worse. Dr. Crane's first marriage had finally dissolved when his wife fell in love with someone else. He knew firsthand about this sort of betrayal; he had lived it. It must have been a terrible shock that Daphne, a person he thought he knew, would treat a man as cruelly as his wife had treated him. Her conscience was right; she deserved every bit of contempt he held for such people.
Yet the look in his blue eyes was nothing like the look they had held earlier that evening. He did not hate her. They were concerned and tired and now, with her pausing in front of his door, a little uneasy, but they were not angry. Earlier he had seemed revitalized, almost ecstatic when he had been able to shift the blame from Daphne to Donny. It was almost as if he needed to believe that there was one woman he knew who was incapable of such actions. Of course, it all made sense now; being newly married the last think he needed was to be reminded that women could and did leave with hardly a backward glance.
It was not right to do this to him, not yet.
"I just wanted to say... I'm sorry I did not talk to you sooner."
"No, it really was not my place..." he stopped. "This is normally where I would insist it was none of my business, but... I care about you, Daphne."
She was going to cry again. At this moment it was impossible to know whether those words were the kindest or the most painful words he could have said.
"Good night," she said, making her escape before everything spilled out. He would find out the truth eventually but for now she saw no good in telling him. She did not want him to despise her for what she had done to Donny. She was already busy despising herself.
She closed the door to her room - his room - and let the tears flow. Everything he had said about Donny was true about her. She was the despicable brute. The liar. Her one small consolation was that they were staying. After seeing his face when he returned from Seattle she had been so sure they would be leaving the next day, if not that very night. She had hardly believed it when he had pulled out that puzzle but knew right away what it meant. They were staying.
Daphne dropped her bag next to her bed. It was the bag she had packed for her trip with Donny, their week in New York. Donny hated New York but had surprised her with the trip because she wanted to go. He had even found someone to take care of Mr. Crane's exercises so her boss would not gripe too much about the unscheduled time off. Some of the clothes she had packed were a bit too dressy or sexy for mountains, lakes and friendships, but most were serviceable.
Dr. Crane, her host, had handed her music box to her before going round to lock up. She did not open it. She had pushed Donny so far out of her mind that she had not thought about what it contained when she asked for it. Three rings, two picked up at the jewelers just days earlier, the other removed permanently from her finger soon after. It was the moment she had held the wedding rings in her hand that she knew she could not go through with it. She had called Donny at work and asked to meet with him for dinner but he must have heard something in her voice because he went directly to the apartment. She had been so sure that she would remember the look on his face until the end of her days, but she had forgotten it almost instantly, replacing it with someone else's.
Two days later, Donny's shocked, stricken eyes were coming back to haunt her. And so it should. She knew enough from life experience that one does not call up someone whose heart she's broken to find out how he is doing. She knew time and distance were the only healers for such pain.
Like the time and distance you are putting between yourself and Dr. Crane, her conscience asked. Shut up, she told it.
Daphne sat on the bed, running her fingers over her music box carving. She may have made a mess of things but it really was too late for her to tell Dr. Crane she was the one who had called off the wedding. After all, if she did she would also have to explain that when she said she had lost the one man she truly loved, she had not been talking about Donny.