"Thank you, Dr. Crane." She replied some minutes later. "I-I care…"
About you too… He silently finished. When he looked up he noticed that she was crying again. No doubt that Donny had entered her mind once more.
"Daphne, I guess what I'm trying to ask you… badly it seems, is that… well… it would mean a lot to me if you would call me Niles."
His eyes searched hers, hoping for the slightest indication of what her answer might be. But he couldn't read her face. "Daphne?"
Her eyes met his. "I-I don't think…"
He smiled. "You've called me Niles before, remember?" Even if she did not, there was no way that he would ever forget. The Snow Ball… and the kiss. Oh, that wonderful kiss. It almost made up for the fact that she'd called him an actor. The memory still stung, but he had done his best to put it in the past. Still, he needed an answer to his question. "Daphne?"
She looked up once more. "Oh… I-."
"I know it's sudden and you don't have to decide right away. But I wish you would think about it. You're still Dad's physical therapist and Frasier's employee, but in light of all that has happened, I think that our relationship and our friendship are different now. I've always regarded you as a friend and I hope that you regard me as such."
But she shook her head. "Dr. Crane…"
His heart sank. He supposed he shouldn't have been surprised. But it hurt just the same. "Ah, well... I guess I have my answer. I just hoped that maybe-."
She reached across the table and took his hand. "It's just not the right time."
Again her words stung, but there was no sense in risking upsetting her even further. "Of course." He replied. "I understand."
"Dr. Crane, my calling you by your formal name doesn't mean that we're not friends. Why would you question it?"
He sighed deeply. She was right. The question should have never been asked. But there was nothing he could do now than address the situation. However, he did so with remorse. "I'm sorry Daphne. We are friends. Good friends. And we'll always be friends, no matter what. I guess I... Well, you don't seem yourself lately. I hoped that if you felt comfortable enough to call me by my first name, you would feel comfortable enough to tell me what's bothering you. I want to help you."
She was on her feet and standing beside him, embracing him tightly. "Thank you, Dr. Crane. That means so much to me." She squeezed him a little tighter and he wanted to hold her like this forever. But it was wrong. She wasn't his and she never would be. And so he reluctantly drew back.
"I just… I'm sorry, Dr. Crane. Perhaps…"
He smiled sadly. "Well, perhaps gives me hope anyway. Thank you, Daphne."
When they finished their breakfast, she offered to help him clean up, but he politely declined, even when she insisted. "You're my guest, Daphne. You've helped me more than you know."
"But-."
"As the man of the house, I order you to go into the library and start pulling your weight on that puzzle." His mock sternness made her laugh out loud. And it was the most wonderful sound imaginable.
"You've already done the easy parts!" She pointed out, still laughing.
He couldn't argue with that logic. Blame the insomnia. "Now, get to work!"
She laughed and returned to the living room, warming his heart yet again.
Alone in the kitchen he washed and dried the dishes and then put them away in the cupboards as quickly as possible. He peeked into the living room where she was busy working on the puzzle, just as he'd asked. The sight made him chuckle softly.
For a moment he stood and watched her, making sure to stay out of sight. She was so incredibly beautiful and it took every ounce of strength he had inside of him to resist entering the room, sweeping her into his arms and kissing her. Oh God, how he wanted to kiss her. He wanted it so badly. But since he could not, there was only one remedy.
He needed air.
He returned to the living room and smiled. "Mind if I get something from your room?"
She turned her head and nodded. "Not at all."
He left the kitchen and hurried up the stairs. When he opened the door to his room (her room) he could feel Daphne's presence. He ran his hand across her bed, his bed. The bed where she'd slept….
Dear God…
His heart was beating so rapidly that he began to feel light-headed. He needed to sit down. The room began to sway slightly as he sank into the plush chair by the window. He closed his eyes and for a few seconds, he breathed deeply, wanting for his heart rate to slow. Moments later he stood again, suddenly at a loss as to why he'd come into his room.
Oh yes…
He went to his dresser and opened the door, expecting to do some searching for the item he needed. But there it was, folded neatly on top. Now he was confused. He didn't remember putting it there. But it had been a long time since he'd needed extra clothing, so it could have been a simple oversight.
He pulled the sweater from the pile and unfolded it. But as he did so, his nose caught a whiff of an unmistakable scent.
Daphne…