Disclaimer: I do not own "Frasier" or any related characters. I also do not own the car rental company Hertz. The only parts of this story that I do own are: the plot and the character Brianna.
A/N: I decided to upload this story before leaving for a club volleyball tournament. And thanks for the reviews! Don't forget to review this chapter, though.
Title: Blast from the Past
Rating: PG-13 . . . because I can!!!
Genre: General
Summary: When a woman from the past shows up, she unleashes an "interesting" havoc among the Crane family and friends.
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Chapter Two-Niles Crane!
Brianna Ackland gripped the armrests of her seat tightly as the plane came closer and closer to the ground. She didn't have a problem with the flying part of airplanes; it was the landing part that always did her in.
She swallowed the lump in her throat as the plane's tires gently scraped the ground. The plane bounced slightly, then, as the tires landed on the runway, shook the plane with such a hard thump that Brianna squeezed her eyes closed. The whirring from the plane's engines was blowing in her ears; she did not open her eyes until the captain came on the intercom once again:
"Ladies and gentlemen, we have now arrived in Seattle, Washington. The time is now one fifteen. Please wait until the 'fasten seatbelt' sign is off before getting up from your seats. Once again, thank you for flying with us and have a great day." The intercom shut off with a click.
Brianna sighed deeply, mostly out of relief that the plane had not skidded off of the runway. Every time she was on a plane, she had vowed never to get back on one, but here she was, in a plane and in Seattle. Niles Something . . .
As the plane slowly pulled into the gate, Brianna noticed that her right leg was jiggling nervously. She crossed her left leg over her right leg, in an effort to stop the irritating bouncing. Niles . . . a bird. What bird, though?
The plane was moving rather slowly, and Brianna was dying to get out. To walk on solid ground. To eat food that wasn't comprised of peanuts and soda. Like pizza . . . or hamburgers! She never had to obsess about her weight, and it had always driven her girl friends crazy. She wasn't emaciated, but she also wasn't hefty. She was . . . perfectly average for her height. With her horrible eating habits (wolfing down anything that was placed in front of her), she often thanked God for giving her such a wonderful metabolism.
She glanced out of the window. Although the teenage boy's head was covering most of the view, she could tell that they were nearing the gate. She leaned down and grabbed her bag, placing it gently in her lap. She grabbed 'Salem's Lot from the seat pocket in front of her and stuffed it into her bag, on top of her plane ticket.
Brianna felt the plane give a slight lurch as it stopped, and she felt an urge just to spring up and rush towards the exit. But no; the problem with being seated first on an airplane is that you have to exit last. She moaned inwardly, waiting for the fasten seatbelt sign to turn off.
*Ping* The seatbelt light snapped off, and there was an eruption of seatbelts unlocking. She removed her seatbelt and stood; her head smacked the ceiling over her and she sat back down in her chair, rubbing her head where it had collided with the ceiling. She would simply wait for everyone else to get out of the aisle before she stood up.
She rubbed at her olive-colored eyes; her contact in her left eye had shifted slightly. She fixed the contact and waited patiently. Niles Bird . . .
Finally, she saw a gap in the line of people exiting the plane. She slipped out of her seat and moved step by step towards the exit. As she neared the door, she gave a friendly half-wave to the flight attendants and pilots who were standing by the door, seeing people off. Why they did that, she had no idea. Either to be polite or it was part of their job to act cheery all day. Ugh, what a life.
The smell of the airport hit her immediately as she stepped into it. It was a smell that all airports had, but no one knew exactly what it was. She pushed her way through the crowds, looking up at all of the signs to see where the baggage claim was.
She stood by the metal carousel, looking at it go around and around. Bags were already beginning to appear on the carousel, but so far, she had not seen either one of her bags: a rolling green bag with her initials "B.A." on it, and a dark blue duffle bag with white pockets.
Niles Something . . .
She looked at her arm. Not five days prior, she had gone to Miami Beach to get a tan. Already, the tan was beginning to peel away, allowing her regular skin color to show. She glanced up towards the carousel; her green rolling bag was coming towards her. She leaned out and grabbed it as it went by.
And there was her blue bag. She grabbed it as it went by. Smiling, she threw the blue duffle bag's strap over her left shoulder and used her right hand to pull the green bag behind her.
Niles . . . a bird. Robin? No . . .
She walked up to the Hertz car rental window. "Hi," she said, greeting the young man standing there, who smiled in reply. "I have a car rented, under the name Brianna Ackland."
It had taken a few minutes too long to get her car. Apparently, the man working there had been a trainee, and needed help a third of the way through. But here she was, standing in front of her rented Jeep Liberty, ready to go out and be . . . who she wanted to be. She smiled again; it felt so good to be herself. Finally.
She unlocked the Jeep and tossed her baggage into the back. She walked up to the front door and started the car. She drove around the maze of cars in an attempt to find the exit. She glanced at the clock. The green numbers 2:52 PM shined at her. Okay, she thought, if I get to a library, I can look on an online directory. It'll be easier . . .
Brianna switched on the radio. "I wonder what kind of music they have here," she said to herself. "Hopefully rock or R&B or something . . ."
She pressed the SEEK button. Classical music filled her ears. She grunted in disgust and pressed SEEK again. A woman's voice came on over the speakers. ". . . and I'm so afraid of meeting him at the divorce court, because I know that he'll win custody over my kids, and I don't want to lose them!"
Brianna rolled her eyes. Some woman ranting about her problems over the radio; it must be a radio psychiatry show. A man's voice responded: "Well, Cecile, you shouldn't be afraid to confront your husband! Go down to that divorce court and fight for your children! If your husband really is as bad as you say he is, he shall not succeed."
"Okay. Thank you!" Cecile replied. Brianna shook her head. Taking advice from a radio psychiatrist . . . it was just a way for cheap people to get free mental help. Oh God, she thought, rubbing her forehead. I sound just like my mother.
"Okay, well, that's all the time we have today," continued the radio psychiatrist. "This is Doctor Frasier Crane wishing you all good mental health."
Brianna's eyes opened wide. Niles Crane! That was it! She had to get to a phone book, a library, something! She knew that he would help her. They had had a pact. But Frasier Crane . . . wasn't that his brother? His brother was a radio psychiatrist? She remembered that Niles had desperately wanted to be a psychiatrist. I wonder if he ever did it.
She saw out of her window that there was a telephone booth standing on the side of the road, a phonebook handing by a metal chain on the inside. She quickly parked the Jeep and hopped out of the car, walking (quickly) towards the phone booth.
She slipped inside the booth and slid the door shut behind her. Niles Crane, she repeated in her mind, flipping to the "C" names. "Niles Crane, Niles Crane," she murmured, letting her finger glide down the list of names. "Well, there's Frasier Crane and a Martin Crane, but no Niles Crane. He must be unlisted . . . or he doesn't live here anymore."
Great. She nearly shut the book. Wait, she thought, looking down at the name "Frasier Crane." Maybe he'll help me, since I know his brother. She pulled a pen out of her pocket and scribbled Frasier's address down on her hand. She looked at the phone number. It wouldn't hurt to just call Frasier, would it? I mean, the worst he could do was say no. Or call the cops on her. Good thing that she was in a phone booth, so he couldn't trace the call back . . .
Why was she thinking about Frasier trying to track her down? All she wanted was to find his brother. She pulled out her wallet from her pocket and took out a quarter. She slid the quarter into the slot and carefully pressed each number. She held the phone to her ear with her shoulder as she zipped up her wallet and slid it back into her pocket.
The other line began to ring . . .
* * *
Frasier Crane was sitting in his apartment, reading the newspaper when the telephone rang. "Daphne, could you get that?" he called into the kitchen.
Daphne Moon came out from the kitchen into the living room. She shot Frasier an angry look that he did not see, but it made her feel slightly better nonetheless. She picked up the phone. "Crane residence."
A young woman's voice replied: "Hi, umm . . . is Frasier Crane there at this moment?"
"Yes he is," replied Daphne. "One moment please." She pulled the phone away from her ear. "Dr. Crane," she whispered, causing Frasier to turn around and look at her. "There's a woman on the phone asking for you."
Frasier laid down his newspaper. "Oh really?" he asked, half-smiling. "And what did she say she wanted?"
"She did not say," replied Daphne. "Would you like me to ask?" She brought the phone back up to her ear.
"No, no," insisted Frasier, holding his hand out for the phone. "I'll ask her. Hello?" he asked, after Daphne had handed him the phone and returned to the kitchen.
"Hi, is this Frasier Crane?"
"Yes it is."
"You probably don't remember me. Well, why should you? I never really knew you too well." There was a slight pause before the woman continued. "Anyways, my name is Brianna Ackland. I was in your brother Niles' sophomore class at Auburn High School."
"I see," replied Frasier, his eyes squinting in confusion. "Oh, I think I remember you. Were you a red head? And were you really tall?" he asked.
"Yeah, that was me. Umm, the reason I called was . . . does Niles still live in Seattle?" she asked, sounding even more anxious than she had at the beginning of the conversation.
"Yes he does. Why, may I ask?"
"Well, I'm sort of embarrassed to say, but . . . I've been living with my parents, mostly my mom, because my dad died, for the last ten years and I got sick of it. My mom never let me be who I am and I just . . . snapped! So, I was calling to ask your brother if he could help me with my little . . . problem. He and I were pretty good friends in high school."
Frasier rubbed his eyes. This Brianna Ackland really did have a problem. But what could he do? "Brianna?" he asked.
"Yes?"
"Would you like to come by my house? Well, where are you?"
"I just arrived in Seattle about an hour ago, not even. I have your address. I'm in a phone booth right now."
"A phone booth?" Frasier repeated. "Well, get out of there and come on by!"
There was silence. "Thanks, Frasier. I'll be right there."
Frasier heard the phone click, and he thought about what he had just done. What if this woman wasn't who she said she was? Well, then he wouldn't let her in. He stood up, adjusted his suit, and began to mix up some drinks to serve when his "guest" arrived . . .
To Be Continued . . .
A/N: I'm sorry that the chapter was so short, but I wanted to put this chapter up before I left for my tournament. And remember to review. Thanks!