Chapter 6

It had been almost six months since Niles had gone to dinner at Frasier's. When Frasier had returned to Seattle, they saw each other maybe a dozen times a year. Niles was with Maris, and Frasier hadn't been a part of his life for a while, so it was hard to remember to make time for that relationship. And Martin... Well, Niles hated to admit now that once Frasier had begrudgingly agreed to take him in, Niles had cut back his visits a lot. Before, Niles struggled to connect with his father, and they spent a lot of time sitting in awkward silence for that one hour a week, making tedious small talk.

When he separated from Maris two years ago, Niles started to finally reconnect with his family. They had become closer, but after he quit his job as a psychiatrist and opened Persephone six months ago, Niles withdrew again, not wanting to hear the repeated concerns: from Frasier trying to talk him back into psychiatry, and from his father who thought floristry was a bad career choice. Niles knew it came from a place of love. He just didn't want to hear any of it.

But he also knew that he was always welcome to visit. Which was why he was here tonight.

He rang the doorbell. It was answered almost immediately by a woman in her mid forties that Niles didn't recognize.

"Uh, hello. I'm here to see Frasier?"

"Hi. Dr Crane said you might arrive before I left. Cut it close though." She indicated the bag slung over her shoulder. "I'm Marjorie, your father's new physical therapist. And apparently..." She shot a quick look over her shoulder, confirming that the room was empty before adding with some irritation, "Dr Crane's errand girl."

"Oh," Niles had a feeling that this therapist wouldn't last long either if Frasier didn't either pay her more or boss her around less. "Niles Crane. Nice to meet you."

"Likewise." She turned back around as Martin entered from the hallway. "I'm just leaving now, Marty. I'll see you Monday."

"Have a good weekend, Margie." Martin noticed Niles as he entered and shut the door behind Marjorie. "Hey, Niles. Glad you could make it."

"Hey, Dad. How are you?"

"Pretty good. Frasier will be out once he's done talking to Freddie on the phone." Martin started heading to his chair, before spotting what Niles was holding. "What's that? Dessert?"

"Uh, yes. I'll just put it in the fridge until after dinner."

Niles headed into the kitchen, Martin following close behind. "Looks good."

"They are. They're English scones." He lifted the small bag in his other hand. "I've got strawberry jam and clotted cream to go with it, too."

"Oh ho." Martin grinned, excited, before glancing around. "Your brother's busy for another ten minutes at least." He stared at the scones again. "Maybe we can have one before dinner. Frasier won't know."

Niles started to open his mouth to protest the idea of eating dessert before dinner, then shrugged. "Why not. I'll get a spoon."

He unwrapped the plate and selected a scone, pulling it apart, spooning the cream and jam on the two halves before handing the plate to his father. After a brief hesitation, Niles prepared one for himself as well. They stood in silence for a moment, eating. Martin spoke first.

"These are really good. Where did you get them?"

"I, uh... know someone who runs an English tea room near me. She bakes them fresh every day."

"Daphne, right?" Martin's mouth was full as he said it, but Niles' heart still skipped at the sound of her name.

"Yes. How-?"

"Frasier told me about her." Martin finished his scone, and eyed off the plate with the remaining scones. Niles covered the plate again.

"Just one for now."

"Oh, fine." Martin grabbed a beer from the fridge and headed back to the living room. Niles cleared up the evidence of their illicit snack, then followed. "So," Martin reclined in his seat, and stared at Niles expectantly. "Tell me about Daphne. Frasier said you were thinking about asking her out?"

Niles was about to reply, to deny that she was anything more than a friend - especially after this afternoon - when Frasier appeared.

"Oh, Niles. I didn't hear you arrive." He glanced around. "Dad, is Marjorie still here?"

"Nope, she left when Niles got here."

"Damn. I was hoping to ask her to pick up some coffee for the morning; we're almost out."

"She's not back till Monday, Fras. Doesn't work weekends, remember?"

"Oh, right. You know, Catherine was happy to work Saturdays. I miss her."

"So do I, and maybe if you weren't so cheap, she'd still be working for us."

"I'm not cheap, Dad. I was paying the appropriate amount for your care. And a little extra for the additional duties."

"Well, 'little' is right. So little, you barely notice it's there."

Frasier bristled at Martin's sarcastic tone. "Look, if you don't like how I conduct things with people in my employ, perhaps that money can be put towards something else. Something that starts with 'R', and ends in 'home'."

Martin stood up incensed, his voice getting louder as he spoke. "Oh, that's the same threat you use every argument - rest home, rest home, rest home! If you're gonna send me to one, just do it! I'm sick of having to live with a stingy miser like you, anyway!"

"Stingy miser?!" Frasier was now shouting as well. "Just because I like things done a certain way doesn't mean they're entitled to a 25% raise for something I could do myself!"

"It does if you aren't the one doing it!"

Niles sunk back as far as he could into the couch, completely forgotten about as they argued. Nothing had changed in the last six months. They argued like this every other week, it seemed. When Niles spent time with Martin, it was stilted conversation and awkward silence, but with Frasier it was loud arguments and passive aggressive niggling. The three of them were so different, they butted heads when together for any amount of time.

I can't stand this shouting.

"I brought dessert!" Niles blurted out. He didn't even realize he was yelling until he said it, he just wanted to stop the fighting.

Martin stopped whatever retort he was about to make to Frasier, and glanced at his other son, who had all but disappeared into the couch cushions. He took a deep breath. "You did. Thanks Niles, those scones are good." Martin turned back to Frasier, giving him a cold stare. "I'm... going to my room to freshen up. Let me know when dinner's ready."

Martin disappeared down the hall. Frasier huffed in annoyance once he had gone. "See what I have to put up with?"

"Well, you seemed to be antagonizing him just as much as he was you." Niles had sat back up now the shouting had stopped.

"Oh, don't you start. You've avoided having to look after him for years."

Niles went to defend himself against that remark, then stopped. He didn't have the energy, and Frasier was right. "I know. I was selfish. And now I can't, not with my apartment being upstairs."

"How convenient for you," Frasier retorted dryly.

Niles didn't rise to the bait. "Well, if it's so bad living with him, why don't you look into the rest home option? No one can say you didn't try living together."

Frasier sighed, and went to pour them both a drink. "Because, it's not that bad. Not really. We have become closer, and we've made progress with our relationship, but then..." He gestured towards the hallway. "We end up fighting about something inane, and we're both too stubborn to back down. So it escalates more than it needs to. Especially on the weekends, when we're both home by ourselves all day."

Frasier handed Niles a sherry, who sipped at it, realizing it had been a while since he indulged in one. "Have you tried apologizing to Dad?"

"For what? I'm not in the wrong here. And it's not like he will ever apologize to me."

Niles sighed. Frasier was so close to self-realization, yet so far. He moved on. "What's for dinner?"

By the time dinner was ready, Martin had returned to the living room on his own. There was a momentary tense silence, before the two seemed to come to some sort of silent agreement. They sat down to eat, a peace of sorts falling over the three of them. Niles mostly listened to them update him on what had been going on the last few months, although he would hurriedly change the subject if it seemed like Martin and Frasier were about to start arguing again. It seemed to do the trick, and further fighting was avoided.

Frasier talked about Freddie, who seemed to be excelling at school, and about the general insufferableness of Lilith. Martin talked about his therapy and about his dog, Eddie. Frasier seemed to disdain the animal but, while Niles wasn't a fan of Eddie, he didn't dislike dogs or other animals the way Frasier seemed to. He and Maris even owned a couple of German shepherds for a few years, although they weren't exactly pets the way Eddie was to Martin. They were owned specifically so Maris could show them in conformation events, and her interest with that was superficial at best. Once her interest had fully waned, the dogs were sold to a breeder friend of hers. Niles had missed them, briefly, but he had learned not to get too attached to things when Maris was involved. A rule that I should have applied to Maris as well.

By the time dessert was served, both his father and brother seemed to be in a better mood, and their full attention returned back to Niles.

"So, how's the shop?" Martin asked as Niles came back out of the kitchen with the scones and their accompaniments.

"Great. Never better." Niles didn't bother going into the intricacies of running a business. He ran his own business before with his psychiatry practice, and no one wanted to know whether or not it was profitable then. He didn't see how this should be any different.

"There's a big market for flowers, then?" Martin had helped himself to the scone, and was happily adding the jam and cream as he spoke.

"Absolutely. A lot of people buy flowers for various occasions. Anniversaries, weddings, special occasions-"

"Making up after an argument with their wife," Martin offered helpfully.

"That too," Niles smiled. This seemed to be going well. Maybe I can get out of the night without them interrogating me.

Frasier had prepared his own scone, and taken a bite. "These are rather good, Niles. Where did you get them?"

Martin responded before Niles could, between mouthfuls, with a knowing smirk. "Daphne made them."

Frasier joined his father with that look. "Oh? And how is Daphne, Niles? Tell us about her."

So much for that. Niles should have known they'd ask about Daphne. Perhaps he did. And perhaps he wanted to talk about it, and that was why he was here tonight, for the first time in months. "There's not much to tell. We're friends. She's English, and runs a tea room near me."

"We know that already, Niles." Martin said, hinting for more. "So, you like her? Is she pretty?"

Niles glanced at his brother, who was equally interested. "Well?" Frasier prodded.

Niles sighed. "All right. I like her. A lot. But we're just friends. Nothing more."

"Have you tried asking her out, Niles? You'll never be more than just friends unless you take initiative." Frasier was stating the obvious, as usual.

"I was going to. This afternoon, actually. But..." Niles felt the hurt well up in his chest again. "I found out she has just started seeing someone else before I could."

Frasier made a sympathetic noise as Martin responded. "I'm sorry, son."

Niles waved it off. "It's okay. I should have asked her out sooner."

"Well, you know for next time, Niles," Frasier said. "But it's great to see that you're finally ready to re-enter the dating scene."

Only with Daphne. Niles couldn't imagine going out with anyone else.

Niles sat listening to his father and brother talk for a little longer as they attempt to bolster his spirits. Despite the rough and awkward start to the evening, Niles was glad he came. They didn't exactly succeed in making him feel better about the fact that right at that moment, Joe and Daphne were together on a date somewhere, but knowing that someone cared about his hurt feelings over this helped.

Especially because he couldn't tell Daphne.