This time I'd better get it right, Dr Frasier Crane thought to himself. This show hadn't gone his way. He'd made a variety of mistakes - calling people by the wrong name, calling the station KALC, spilling yoghurt on the panel just as he was talking to Janice with the eating problem - yep, things were looking good today!

Luckily his advice to Bob hadn't given Frasier any problems.

"Listen to yourself, Bob!" Frasier told him. "You follow her to work, you eavesdrop on her calls, you open her mail. The minute you started doing these things, the relationship was over!" Worried that he sounded too angry, Frasier spoke to Bob more politely. "Thank you for your call," he finished. Avoiding the yoghurt stain, Frasier pressed a button on his control panel, which disconnected Bob and allowed him to speak to his producer.

"Roz, I think we have time for one more."

Roz Doyle, the producer for the show, spoke soothingly into the microphone.

"Yes, Dr Crane. On line 4, we have Russell from Kirkland."

Oh God, Frasier thought. It'd better not be that Russell we had last week who couldn't stop crying. He pressed the button on the panel so Russell was on the air.

"Hello, Russell. This is Dr Frasier Crane. I'm listening."

"Well, I have been feeling sort of, erm, you know, depressed, lately." Russell sounded it too. In her booth, Roz looked at the clock. Only a few seconds left. Maybe there hadn't been time for another caller after all.

"My life's not going anywhere," Russell continued, "and, and, er, it's not that bad, it's just...same old apartment...same old job..."

Roz looked at the clock again. There wasn't any time left. She tapped on the glass to let Frasier know. Frasier realised what she was saying and thought he'd better help Russell quickly. He thought of the perfect answer.

"Er Russell, we're just about at the end of our hour - let me see if I can cut to the chase by using myself as an example. Six months ago, I was living in Boston. My wife had left me, which was very painful." Frasier remembered the scene on the balcony of Melville's. Lilith had hurt him in more ways than she could understand, like Diane had all those years before. What was it with him and women? Frasier continued.

"Then she came back to me, which was excruciating. On top of that, my practice had grown stagnant, and my social life consisted of, of hanging around a bar night after night." Well, his practise may have stunk, but his friends at Cheers didn't - except for the times when Norm wouldn't get off his barstool for hours. In her booth, Roz looked at the clock. There was no choice for her. The news was about to start. Roz pressed a button on her panel as Frasier continued with his speech.

"You see, I was clinging to a life that wasn't working anymore, and I knew I had to do something - anything. So I ended the marriage once and for all, packed up my things, and moved back here to my hometown of Seattle - go Seahawks!" Frasier laughed at this - he didn't usually mention sports on his show. "I took action, Russell. And you can, too. Move, change, do something; if it's a mistake, do something else. Will you do that, Russell? Will you? Russell...?"

There was no reply from the caller. Damn, Roz must have lost him, Frasier thought. He spoke to Roz through the microphone.

"I think we lost him."

"No, we cut to the news thirty seconds ago," she replied. Frasier took off his headphones, annoyed.

"Oh for crying out loud! I finally bare my soul to all of Seattle, and they're listening to Chopper Dave's Rush Hour Round-Up!" The latest bad thing to happen in a bad show. Frasier wondered how bad Roz thought he had done today. Walking into her booth, he noticed she was busy with some administrative stuff.

"Well, the rest of the show was pretty good. It was a, a good show...wasn't it?"

His producer said nothing but handed him a piece of paper with a message on it.

"Here, your brother called," she told him. A quick glance of the message revealed it said, "Meet me in Cafe Nervosa after your show finishes. It's important. Niles." Frasier turned back to Roz.

"Roz, in the trade we call that avoidance. Don't change the subject. Tell me what you think."

Roz pointed to a button on her console. "Did I ever tell you what this little button does?" she asked. Frasier asked her these questions after every show, and she was a bit fed up of this. If she ignored him, she thought, he would stop asking. Frasier though had other ideas.

"I am not a piece of Lalique! I can handle criticism! How was I today?"

Oh God, he'd mentioned some antique or something. Unless she wanted to be really bored, Roz thought she'd better say something. A small smile spread across her face. Frasier had made a lot of mistakes today. Maybe if she pointed them all out, he would never ask her that question again. She turned her chair round to face him.

"Let's see," she began, "you dropped 2 commercials, you left a total of 28 seconds of dead air, you scrambled the station's call letters, you spilled yoghurt on the control board, and you kept referring to Jerry - with the identity crisis - as 'Jeff'.

Frasier had forgotten about those 28 seconds. He tried to think of a comeback, but couldn't. Deciding to change the subject, he picked up Niles' message.

"You say my brother called..."

The Cafe Nervosa coffee house was just across the street from KACL studios, and that was how Frasier had discovered it. He'd wondered in after his first show and Roz had given him a list of pointers to help him out. She had, after all, been in the radio business for the past 10 years. That was 4 months ago, and Frasier was better now than he was in May, but still had things to learn about the radio trade. Anyway, he'd discovered the coffee house just happened to be the regular haunt of his brother, Dr Niles Crane.

Niles came here whenever he needed to get away from the big mansion he called home. This was due to his marriage to Maris, a very thin and very mean woman. She often treated him like dirt, but he either didn't notice or didn't care. Frasier could only just put up with Maris, and she him.

Frasier saw Niles by the counter and walked over.

"Frasier! You finally made it."

"What do you mean finally? My show finished 5 minutes ago and I came here as quick as I could." Deciding to change the subject, Frasier asked his brother, "So how's life at home?"

"Yoshi has upset Maris again."

Oh God, Frasier thought, not another Yoshi story. Niles and Maris' gardener was always upsetting Maris somehow - but then again it didn't take much to upset Maris. Frasier made a mental note - again - to remind himself never to allow Yoshi to come up in conversations again.

"Yoshi had this idea of a Zen garden for our garden. Apparently it maintains your inner harmony or something like that. But when he showed us his plans, I realised that a lot of gravel was involved! I couldn't think of asking the servants to rake it up all the time, they have enough to do with Maris as it is, bless their souls, so I said to the gardener, 'Yoshi, I do not want a Zen garden in my backyard. If I want to rake gravel every ten minutes to maintain my inner harmony, I'll move to Yokohama.' Well, this offends him, so he starts pulling out Maris's prized Camellias. Well, I couldn't stand for that, so, I marched right into the morning room and locked the door until he cooled down. Tell me you would have handled it differently, Frasier?"

Niles looked at his brother. Frasier nodded his head. Niles guessed he hadn't been listening. Frasier looked up at Niles and noticed his brother looking at him.

"Oh I'm sorry Niles, I didn't realise you'd stopped talking."

"You haven't heard a word I said."

"Oh Niles, you're a psychiatrist - you know what it's like to listen to people prattling on endlessly about their mundane lives!"

"Touché," Niles replied. "And on that subject, I heard your show today."

Frasier knew Niles was jealous of his fame. Of course, Niles claimed that he was against psychiatry being turned into entertainment, or "McSessions" as Niles had often referred to the time Frasier spent with his callers.

"And?"

"You know what I think about pop psychiatry."

Here we go again, the speech about how my show will cause the end of the world as we know it! Frasier thought. He decided to get in before Niles could start.

"Yes, I know what you think about everything. When was the last time you had an unexpressed thought."

"I'm having one now."

The brothers chuckled. The waitress came over to them.

"You guys ready?" she asked.

"Two cafe latte supremos," Frasier told her. He knew what his brother would want, after all when they were kids they did spend most of their time together. The waitress went to get their orders and Frasier noticed a table that was free. Gesturing to Niles, he moved to the table and sat down.

Niles followed, but didn't sit down. Instead he took out his handkerchief from his pocket and wiped down the chair with it. Good God, he still does that? Frasier thought as his brother offered the handkerchief to him.

"No thank you," he told Niles. Niles sat down.

"So, Frasier. How are you doing on your own?"

"I'm fine! I love my new life here, I love the solitude. I miss Frederick like the dickens, of course. You know, he's quite a boy - he's playing goalie on the peewee soccer team now. Ha, chip off the old block!" Frasier smiled proudly at the thought of his son.

"You hated sports," Niles replied.

"So does he!" exclaimed Frasier, and he laughed, before adding the reason he had signed Frederick up to it before moving to Seattle. "The fresh air is good for him."

Niles laughed slightly, and then stopped as he turned to look at his brother.

"Oh well, this has been fun, Frasier, but...we have a problem, and that's why I thought we should talk."

Frasier knew what Niles was talking about, but thought he'd better ask anyway. "Is it Dad?"

"Afraid so. One of his old buddies from the police force called this morning, went over to see him, and found him on the bathroom floor."

Frasier and his father had never gotten on that well in the past, but this was shocking! "Oh my God!"

"No, it's OK," Niles reassured him, "he's fine."

"What, is it his hip again?"

Niles nodded. "Frasier, I don't think he can live alone anymore."

"What can we do? "

"Well," Niles began, "I know this isn't going to be anyone's favorite solution..." Niles opened his briefcase and took out a few brochures, placing them on the table as he finished, "but I took the liberty of checking out a few convalescent homes for him."

Frasier looked at the brochures. Each had pictures of men and women in their seventies and eighties. Dad was only 61! He wasn't old enough for a home yet. "Niles, a home? He's still a young man!"

"Well, you certainly can't take care of him - you're just getting your new life together."

"Absolutely," replied Frasier. "But besides, we were never simpatico."

"Of course, I can't take care of him."

"Oh yes, yes, of course, of course." Frasier began thinking the home was the best idea when he wondered just why Niles couldn't take care of Dad. "Why?" he asked his brother.

"Because Dad doesn't get along with Maris," was the answer.

"Who does?" Frasier asked. Certainly he didn't! Niles looked slightly offended by this.

"I thought you liked my Maris!"

"I do," Frasier replied, trying to cover up his dislike of his sister in law, "I...I like her from a distance. You know, the way you like the sun. Maris is like the sun." Under his breath, Frasier added, "Except without the warmth."

Niles didn't seem to hear. "Well then, we're agreed about what to do with Dad," he said. He picked up one of the brochures and read what was on it. "Golden Acres: We Care So You Don't Have To."

"It says that?" Frasier asked, surprised.

"Well, it might as well!"

Frasier suddenly felt very guilty. He knew his father couldn't live alone any more. Dad had fallen over quite a lot since he was shot in the hip 2 years ago in a convenience store. The injury had forced Martin to use a cane whenever he walked anywhere for the rest of his life. The guy responsible, David Hicks, had been banged up for it, much to the Cranes' delight, but what if the next time Dad fell something really bad happened to him and no-one was there to help him?

Frasier also thought about his relationship with his father. Back in Boston, when he had first entered Cheers, no-one apart from Diane had liked him, but he had kept going back there and eventually become one of the guys. Maybe if his Dad came to live with him, their relationship would improve too.

"Alright, I'll make up the spare bedroom."

"Oh you're a good son, Frasier," said Niles.

"Oh God, I am, aren't I?" Frasier felt a bit depressed. Was he making the right decision? He cradled his head with his hand as the waitress arrived with the coffees.

"2 cafe supremos," she said, placing them on the table. "Anything to eat?"

"No," Frasier told her, "I seem to have lost my appetite.

"I'll have a large piece of cheesecake!" Niles told her happily. The waitress wrote it down and went to get it as Frasier glared at Niles.

"I don't see why I agreed to this," Martin Crane muttered. "I was doing OK on my own."

"No you weren't," Niles told him as he pressed the button for the 19th floor in the elevator. The door closed and the elevator started moving upwards. "You were on that floor for 2 hours. It's just as well Frank popped over or you could have been there longer."

"Yeah, well, Eddie isn't going to like it," said Martin.

"We'll discuss Eddie later," Niles said as the elevator stopped at the 19th floor. The doors opened and Niles picked up his father's suitcases. They got out and walked to Frasier's apartment, which was directly opposite.

Frasier had done well for himself with regards to his home. The apartment - number 1901, Elliott Bay Towers - had a wonderful view of Seattle. In fact, that was the reason Frasier had bought the place. Niles rang the doorbell.

"Can you hear piano music?" he asked his father.

The music stopped and Niles heard footsteps approaching them. He guessed Frasier had been playing the piano again. The door opened and Frasier stood there, with a smile on his face. Niles guessed it was a fake smile.

"Hi!" Frasier said, laughing. Niles entered the apartment, carrying Martin's suitcases. Martin himself followed his son in.

"We finally made it!" said Niles enthusiastically. Martin however did not look that enthusiastic at all.

"Ah Dad, Dad, welcome to your new home!" said Frasier as he hugged his father. "Gee, you look great!"

"Don't BS me, I do not look great," Martin told his son. "I spent Monday on the bathroom floor. You can still see the tile marks on my face." Martin sat down as Niles muttered to Frasier, "Gives you some idea about the ride over in the car."

"Well, er, here we are..." began Frasier as Niles put down Martin's suitcases. Martin put his leg on the table as Frasier continued, knocking over one of Frasier's many glass ornaments. Frasier managed to catch it and placed it on the small folding table next to his Wassily as he continued. "Well, rest assured the refrigerator is stocked with your favorite beer - Ballantine - and we've got plenty of hot licks and coleslaw... "

Noticing his father still had the same expression on his face, Niles tried to make him smile. "Mmm!" he added with fake enthusiasm.

"...and I just, er, rented a Charles Bronson movie for later." Frasier finished.

Martin sighed. "Let's cut the 'Welcome To Camp Crane' speech. We all know why I'm here. Your old man can't be left alone for ten minutes without falling on his ass, and Frasier got stuck with me. Isn't that right?"

Martin was right, but his sons didn't want him to know that. They glanced at each other before both saying, "No, no!"

Frasier added, "I want you here! It'll give us a chance to get reacquainted!" If he was hoping to make some progress, he was wrong, as Martin replied with, "That implies we were acquainted at one point."

Niles decided that Frasier and his father needed a few minutes alone. Picking up Martin's suitcases, he said, "Well, um, listen, why don't I take Dad's things into his new bachelor quarters so you two er, scoundrels can plan some hijinks!"

As Niles went to what was now Martin's bedroom, Martin turned to his eldest son.

"I think that wife of his is driving him nutso!"

"Yes, we Crane boys...sure know how to marry 'em," Frasier replied, thinking back to his 2 marriages to Nanette and Lilith, and his 2 "almost marriages" to Diane and Candi, the woman whom he'd agreed to marry just 24 hours after meeting her when he was on the rebound from Diane. Frasier went into the kitchen and called to Martin, "Let me get you a beer, Dad. So, ah, what do you think of what I've done with the place, eh?" Returning to the main room with a can of Ballantine's, he told his father, "You know, every item here was carefully selected. This lamp by Corbusier, the chair by Eames, and this couch is an exact replica of the one Coco Chanel had in her Paris atelier."

"Nothing matches!" exclaimed Martin.

"It's a, it's a style of decorating, it's called 'eclectic'." Martin looked at his son in a "what the hell does that mean?" look, so Frasier thought he'd better define it. "Well, the theory behind it is, if you've got really fine pieces of furniture, it doesn't matter if they match - they will 'go together'."

"It's your money," Martin said, taking another sip of his beer as the doorbell rang. His son went to answer it, passing the windows offering the view of Seattle. Noticing Martin staring at the view, Frasier wondered what he was thinking.

"Dad, what do you think of the view, hey? That's the, er, Space Needle there!"

Martin was slightly insulted by that. Of course he knew what one of Seattle's prime landmarks was! You couldn't exactly miss it.

"Oh, thanks for pointing that out," said Martin, before sarcastically adding, "Being born and raised here, I never would have known."

Frasier decided to ignore him as he answered the door. A deliveryman was there with his father's prized possession. One of the 2 things that Frasier really didn't want his dad to bring with him.

"Delivery for Martin Crane."

"Oh, in here!" Martin called as he got up.

"Coming through!" the deliveryman called back as he quickly wheeled Martin's possession into the room. Frasier looked on in horror. It was - The Chair.

His father's armchair was a horrible mix of green and brown, and had duct tape all over it. Well, it was 25 years old at least, but it looked horrible. Martin loved his chair though and had wanted to bring it with him. Frasier looked on in further horror as Niles returned.

"Excuse me," Frasier said to the deliveryman, "excuse me...wait a minute!"

Ignoring him, the deliveryman asked Martin, "Where do you want it?"

"Where's the TV?" Martin asked. Frasier sighed. You couldn't exactly miss the TV. Wait a minute, Dad didn't want to...

"It's, it's in that credenza," Niles told Martin, pointing to it.

"Point it at that thing," Martin told the deliveryman, but something was in the way. Frasier's Wassily.

"What about this chair?" the deliveryman asked.

Niles thought for a second. He wanted this moving in day to go as smoothly as possible for his father, so he said to the deliveryman, "Ah, the chair..... here, let me get it out of your way." Niles lifted the Wassily, and the deliveryman placed Martin's chair in it's place.

"Niles, Niles, Niles!" Frasier wailed. "Be careful with that - that's a Wassily! Oh look Dad, as dear as I'm sure this, this piece is to you I, I just don't think it goes with anything here!"

As the deliveryman left, Martin sat down on his chair with a smirk on his face.

"I know! It's eclectic!" Feeling good about himself, Martin reclined his chair, knocking over the small table next to it. The glass ornament from earlier once again had to be rescued by Frasier. Frasier appealed to his brother.

"Niles, Niles, will you help me out here?"

"Ah, you're gonna have to run an extension cord over here," Martin told his son, "so I can plug in the vibrating part."

Frasier knew he was beaten. There was no way he could ask Martin to take the chair away now. "Yes, yes, that will be the crowning touch," he muttered before noticing Niles heading for the door.

"Well, now that you two are settled in," Niles announced, "I've got to run. I'm late for my 'dysfunctional family' seminar."

Frasier wondered if Niles was telling the truth or just being witty. Niles was half way out when he stopped, as if he had forgotten something. He turned back to his father.

"Dad, have you mentioned Eddie yet?"

Frasier's jaw dropped. Not Eddie! The second thing Frasier hadn't wanted Martin to bring with him. Eddie was Martin's Jack Russell terrier that loved to stare at Frasier, thus really annoying him. Eddie had used to stare at Niles, but then Eddie had found out Frasier was the oldest and started staring at him instead. Thanks to Niles telling him...

"Eddie...?!"

As if on cue, Niles closed the door, saying "Ta, ta," as he went. Frasier turned to his father.

"Oh no Dad, no, no, not Eddie! "

"But he's my best friend!" said martin, before asking, "Get me my beer, would you?"

Frasier gave his father a can of beer as he continued trying to convince his father that bringing Eddie was a bad idea. "Ah, but he's weird! Gives me the creeps! He, he does this stare at me..."

"Ah, it's just your imagination."

Yeah right, Frasier thought. I imagine hell every time I visit you and that, that four legged demon.

"No Dad, no, no!" Frasier told his father, "I'm sorry, but I am putting my foot down. Eddie is not moving in here."

He sat down as Martin turned to him. "Why not?" Martin asked.

"Because this is my home and I don't want him here."

"Hey, this is our home. Besides, you let me bring my chair."

"That was a concession! I always intended to let you bring one thing with you! And your chair doesn't stare at me."

"Neither does Eddie. If he lives here, he'll get bored of looking at you. I know I am, and I've only been here 5 minutes."

I should have said no, Frasier thought as he and his dad watched the movie he had rented. I should have stuck to my guns.

Martin had convinced Frasier that Eddie wouldn't stare at him if he lived with them, but the dog continued staring at Frasier throughout the entire movie.

"Double latte please," Niles asked the waitress at Cafe Nervosa. He was waiting for Frasier. He had something to tell his brother.

Frasier's social life had been affected by Martin moving in. He had had to give up tickets to everything he had planned this week as he was worried about what Martin and Eddie were up to. Niles wanted to help, and reading the paper this morning he had found a solution.

"Niles, there you are!" Frasier called to his brother as he ran into the Cafe. "I'm sorry I'm late. Just as I was leaving, Dad decided to cook lunch by the glow of the small kitchen fire. Oh Niles, this last week with Dad, it's, it's been a living hell! When I'm there, I feel like my territory's being violated; when I'm not, I'm worried about what he's up to. Look at me!"

He showed Niles his shaky hands. "I'm a nervous wreck! Gotta do something to calm down..."

Frasier went up to the counter. "Double espresso, please!" he told the waitress. He went back over to Niles.

"Niles, you don't still have the brochures from those...those rest homes, do you?"

"Of course I do," Niles told him. "Don't forget, Maris is five years older than I am."

She lives in a sort of rest home anyway, thought Frasier. She always has people doing stuff for her!

"But you really think that's necessary?" Niles added.

"I'm afraid I do," Frasier replied. "I don't have my life anymore. Tuesday night I gave up my tickets to the theatre, Wednesday it was the symphony...

Frasier's coffee arrived as Niles remembered something. He had the solution to Frasier's problem, but all this week he had received free tickets from his brother. He was going to get one last thing from him before helping him. "That reminds me. Weren't you going to the opera on Friday?"

Frasier reached into his pocket and pulled out some tickets. "Yes, here." Niles said his thanks as Frasier continued with. "Niles, you don't suppose there's a chance that you and Maris could..."

"Funny you should mention that," Niles said. This was what he had wanted to talk to Frasier about. "Maris and I were just discussing this. We feel we should do more to share the responsibility."

"You mean you'd take him in?" Frasier asked hopefully.

Niles chuckled. "Dear God, no! But we would be willing to help you pay for a home care worker."

"A what?"

"You know, someone who cooks and cleans and can help Dad with his physical therapy."

"These angels exist?"

"I know of an agency - let me arrange for them to send a few people over to meet with you."

Frasier was the happiest he'd ever been since that time last week when he and Niles had last sat down at cafe nervosa to discuss Martin. "Niles, I can't thank you enough! I, I, I feel this overwhelming urge to hug you!"

"Remember what Mom always said: 'A handshake is as good as a hug.'"

Frasier remembered plenty of times when his mother, the late Dr Hester Crane, had hugged him or Niles or their father, but merely added to Niles, "Wise woman."

"Well, Miss Edwards, we will contact you." Frasier spoke to the 38 year old woman standing in the doorway. "Looking at this resume, I must say I have never been more impressed with a human being in my life!"

Frasier closed the door on her and she walked off. He turned to his father.

"Now what was wrong with that one?" Miss Edwards had been the 5th person Martin had taken a dislike to. Frasier wondered if Martin was just doing this on purpose, since he had been against the idea in the first place.

"She was casing the joint."

"'Casing the joint!' She spent two years with Mother Teresa!"

"Well," said Martin, "if I were Mother Teresa, I'd check my jewellery box."

The doorbell rang. Person #6. As Frasier went to answer it, he said to his father, "Oh, this is the last one. Can you please try to keep an open mind?" He opened the door.

"Oh, hello. Caught me with me hand in the biscuit tin!" She took her hand out of her bra and shook hands with Frasier. "I'm Daphne - Daphne Moon."

"Frasier Crane. Please come in."

"Thank you," said Daphne as she entered the room. She spotted Martin in his chair.

"Er, this is my father, Martin Crane," Frasier told her. "Dad, this is Daphne Moon."

"Nice to meet you," smiled Daphne - and then she spotted Eddie sitting on the couch. "Oh, and who might this be?" she added.

"That is Eddie," muttered Frasier darkly.

"I call him 'Eddie Spaghetti'," Martin told Daphne

"Oh, he likes pasta?"

"No, he has worms."

Trying not to get angry at the fact that Martin hadn't told him about the worms, Frasier invited Daphne to sit down. "Er, have a seat, Miss Moon."

"Daphne," she replied, meaning she wanted to be called that rather than 'Miss Moon'. "Thank you." She sat down next to Eddie and looked at Martin's chair. "Oh, will you look at that, what a comfy chair! It's like I always say: 'Start with a good piece, and replace the rest when you can afford it.'" Martin smirked at his son. At least someone likes this chair!

"Yes..." Frasier said to Daphne, trying very hard not to make a comeback to his father, "well, er, perhaps you should start by telling us a little bit about yourself, Miss Moon."

"Well, I'm originally from Manchester, England."

"Oh really? Did you hear that Dad?" Frasier asked his father.

Martin was fed up of his son treating him like a child at time. "I'm three feet away," he answered. "There's nothing wrong with my hearing."

Daphne began to take all sorts of things out of her handbag, including a brush, a glass and of all things, a sponge! Finally, she pulled out a piece of paper which she handed to Frasier.

"I've only been in the US for a few months, but I have quite an extensive background in home care and physical therapy, as you can see from my resume," she told them. Frasier quickly glanced over the resume. This woman seemed good at her job. She was still very weird though. Maybe giving her this job would make her a bit more normal...

Daphne was still talking. "I..." Suddenly she stopped and turned towards Martin. "You were a policeman, weren't you?" she asked him.

"Yeah..." Martin replied, amazed. "How'd you know?"

"I must confess - I'm a bit psychic," Daphne told an amazed Martin and a very sceptic Frasier. "It's nothing big, just little things I sense about people. I mean it's not like I can pick the lottery. If I could, I wouldn't be talking to the likes of you two now, would I?"

She laughed at her own joke. Always a bad sign, Frasier thought, but Martin was impressed.

"Yes...," Frasier said again, "perhaps I should describe the duties around here. You will be He was interrupted by Daphne as she turned rapidly towards him. "Oh wait a minute, I'm getting something on you. You're a florist!"

A florist? Frasier thought. She's too kooky. She just guessed lucky with dad. She's not working in this, my house!"

"No, I'm a psychiatrist," he corrected her.

"Well, it comes and goes," Daphne replied as she packed up her bag. "Usually, it's strongest during my time of the month... though, I guess I let a little secret out there, didn't I?"

"It's safe with us," Frasier told her. Or at least until he told Niles about this kook he almost hired! They'd have quite a bit of fun with this! "Well, Miss Moon...I think we've learned just about all we need to know about you, and a dash extra!" Frasier walked to the door to show Daphne out - for the last time, although neither she nor Martin knew this yet. He hoped Martin would act like he had with the previous 5 applicants.

"You're a dog, aren't you?" Frasier looked up. Daphne was laughing at Eddie. Wow, some powers.

"Well...we'll er, we'll be calling you, Miss Moon," Frasier told her as he opened the door.

"Oh why wait? You've got the job!"

Frasier was shocked. Why did his father always act the opposite to what Frasier wanted?

"Oh, wonderful!" Daphne said happily.

"Er excuse me, excuse me?" Frasier interrupted. "Aren't you just forgetting a little something here? Don't you think we should talk about this in private? "

"Oh, of course you should, I completely understand," smiled Daphne. She picked up her bag and stood up. "I'll just pop into the loo - you do have one, don't you?"

"Yes," said Frasier, slightly darkly.

"Oh, I love America!" Daphne said as she entered the bathroom. Frasier turned to his father as soon as she shut the door.

"Dad, what do you think you're doing?"

"You wanted me to pick one. I picked one."

"But she's a kook! I don't like her!"

"Well, what difference does it make to you? Martin asked. "She's only gonna be here when you're not."

Frasier sighed. His father was after all just doing what Frasier had asked him to do.

"Then...what's my problem?" he said, covering up his anger. He called into the bathroom. "Daphne!"

"You've been retained," Frasier told her.

"Oh, wonderful! I had a premonition!"

Yeah right, Frasier thought, before adding, "Quelle surprise."

"I'll move me things in tomorrow."

Frasier was horrified. Moving in? Not another person in his house! Especially not Miss Freakazoid!

"Oh, move in? Oh I'm sorry, there must be some misunderstanding, er, this isn't a live-in position."

"Oh dear," Daphne told him "Well, the lady at the agency..."

"The lady at the agency was wrong," Frasier added quickly - she wasn't going to use this as an argument! "This is just a part-time position. I'm, I'm afraid it just won't work out."

"Hold on there, Frasier, let's talk about this!" Martin got out of his chair and walked towards his son.

"Dad, there's nothing to discuss!"

Daphne sensed she should get out of the way for the time being. She made an excuse. "You two should talk about this. So I'll just pop back in here and enjoy some more of your African erotic art." She started to go back into the bathroom when she was stopped.

"Daphne, Daphne - I think it would be best if you leave."

"Oh well, alright then," she replied, heading for the door. She sensed a big argument was coming up between the men.

"Don't be alarmed. We'll contact you," Frasier told her. He couldn't resist adding, "If not by telephone then through the toaster."

Daphne left the apartment. Luckily the elevator was there waiting, as two women and a man got out. As she went down to the lobby, Daphne thought about her new clients. They seemed a bit strange, a bit kooky at times, Dr Crane especially appeared to be one of these "pansy men", as her brothers would put it. A guy who hates sports and likes flowers. Mr Crane seemed alright though - in fact, he looked a little bit like a man who used to live down the road from her in Manchester.

Back at the apartment, the argument had began as soon as Daphne had left.

"Dad - I'm not having another person living in this house!"

"Give me one good reason why not!" Martin told his son.

Not wanting to give the real reason, Frasier replied with "Well, for one thing, there's no room for her!"

"What about that room right across the hall from mine?"

Oh dear God, she can't have that room! "The study? You expect me to give up my study - the place where I read, where I do my most profound thinking?"

"Ah, use the can like the rest of the world!" was Martin's comeback. "You'll adjust!"

That was it. Frasier blew a fuse. He erupted at his father.

"I don't want to adjust! I've done enough adjusting! I'm in a new city, I've got a new job, I got separated from my little boy which in itself is, enough to drive me nuts. And now my father and his dog are living with me! Well, that's enough on my plate, thank you! The whole idea of getting somebody in here was to help ease my burden, not to add to it!"

Oh dear, he'd said it. And he knew Martin was hurt by that comment.

"Oh, d'you hear that, Eddie? We're a burden!" Martin told the dog. Frasier decided he'd better calm his father down.

"Oh Dad, Dad you're, you're twisting my words! I meant burden in its most positive sense."

Martin thought that was a pretty stupid thing to say. He replied with, "As in: 'Gee, what a lovely burden'?"

"Something like that, yes!"

Martin decided it was time to get some words of his own in. "Well, you're not the only one who got screwed here, you know. 2 years ago, I'm saving toward retirement and some punk robbing a convenience store puts a bullet in my hip. Next thing you know, I'm trading in my golf clubs for one of these!" He shook his cane, a thing which even 2 years later he was still secretly ashamed of. He'd only gone in to get his partner a drink, after all, and he had been the one who'd suffered. "Well, I had plans too, you know. And this may come as a shock to you, sonny boy, but one of them wasn't living with you."

"I'm just trying to do the right thing, here. I'm trying to be the good son," Frasier pleaded.

"Oh, don't worry, son. After I'm gone you can live guilt-free knowing you've done right by your papa."

"You think that's what this is about? Guilt?"

"Isn't it?"

"Of course it is!" Frasier erupted. He calmed down a bit when he spoke next. "But the point is, I did it! I took you in! And I've got news for you - I wanted to do it!" Frasier was on the verge of tears by now, although he didn't let Martin know this. "Because you're my father." The same father he'd told his friends at Cheers was dead, because of an argument they'd had. Frasier didn't want their relationship to get that bad ever again. All the same, he felt Martin should take some of the blame. "And how do you repay me? Ever since you've moved in here it's been a snide comment about this or a smart little put-down about that. Well, I've done my best to make a home here for you, and once, just once, would it have killed you to say 'thank you'? One lousy 'thank you'?"

He looked at his father expecting a thank you, but Martin said nothing. He just looked at Frasier, and then to Eddie.

"Come on, Eddie, it's past your dinner time," he told the dog, and Eddie followed him into the kitchen. Frasier was furious. His dad was so selfish! He grabbed his coat and walked to the door.

"I'm going out!" He left, slamming the door as he did so. Martin came back out of the kitchen. He realised Frasier was right. He had been a bit selfish. He had to make it up to him. But not now. The time wasn't right yet.

Martin looked at the clock. It was 1.17. Frasier's show would begin at 2. Then it would be time.

Of all the times he could have gone, it had to be now. Just when Fiona had called in with her bedwetting problem. Frasier had wondered if he had ever held on for that long.

Slamming the door behind him, Frasier rushed back to the studio and sat on the chair.

"They have got to move the bathroom closer to the studio!" he snapped as he put on his headphones. He hit the on air button..

"We'll be right back after these messages," he said in a much more politer tone of voice. Roz was amazed at how Frasier could switch from one tone of voice to another in just a few seconds. She was also amazed at how quickly he could switch back...

"Can't I put that on tape?" Frasier snapped at her, angry again.

"What's eating you?" she asked as she entered his booth. Frasier sighed.

"Oh, I'm sorry. It's just this thing with my father and this, this person he wants to hire. I thought I'd started my life with a clean slate and a picture of what it was going to be like, and then, I don't know..."

"Ever heard of Lupe Velez?"

That was unusual, Frasier thought. Normally she just lets me moan and moan...

"Who?" Frasier wondered who or what Frasier was on about.

"Lupe Velez - the movie star in the '30s," Roz explained as she sat down on the desk. Upon Frasier's puzzled look, she continued. "Well, her career hit the skids, so she decided she'd make one final stab at immortality. She figured if she couldn't be remembered for her movies, she'd be remembered for the way she died. And all Lupe wanted was to be remembered." Frasier was about to ask how this connected to him when Roz carried on with the story.

"So...she plans this lavish suicide - flowers, candles, silk sheets, white satin gown, full hair and make-up, the works. She takes the overdose of pills, lays on the bed, and imagines how beautiful she's going to look on the front page of tomorrow's newspaper. Unfortunately, the pills don't sit well with the Enchilada combo plate she sadly chose as her last meal. She stumbles to the bathroom, trips, and goes head-first into the toilet...and that's how they found her."

Frasier still couldn't see the connection. "Is there a reason you're telling me this story?" he asked as Roz got up.

"Yes," she replied. "Even though things may not happen like we planned, they can work out anyway." Roz headed back towards her booth.

"Remind me again how it worked for Lupe, last seen with her head in the toilet," Frasier asked her.

It's amazing how smart he can be, but still he needs simple things explained to him, Roz thought to herself. She could see exactly what the connection was.

"All she wanted was to be remembered," she told Frasier. "Will you ever forget that story?" She returned to her booth and signalled to him. Showtime.

Frasier put his headphones on and hit the on-air button. "We're back," he told Seattle. "Roz, who's our next caller?"

Roz quickly checked. "We have Martin on line 1. He's having a problem with his son," she told him. This Martin guy seemed really keen to speak to Frasier. He'd said it was very important. Wondering if she was doing the right thing, choosing Martin over that transsexual agoraphobic, Roz put Martin on the line.

"Hello, Martin. This is Dr Frasier Crane. I'm listening," Frasier said to the caller.

"I'm a first-time caller." Frasier froze. It couldn't be...could it? It sounded like his father, and had the same name as his father.....

Frasier decided he'd better say something, or those 28 seconds from last week would come back to haunt him. "Welcome to the show," he told his father. "How can I help you?"

"I've just moved in with my son and er, it ain't working. There's a lot of tension between us."

"I can imagine," said Frasier. "Why do you think that's so?" Frasier really wondered what his father would say. Who would he blame?

"I guess I didn't see he had a whole new life planned for himself; and I kinda got in the way."

That was a surprise! Frasier hadn't expected his father to say that! He decided he'd better admit to his part in this as well. After all, Martin hadn't planned for all this to happen either.

"Well, these things are a two-way street. Perhaps your son wasn't sensitive enough to see how your life was changing."

"You got that right!" Martin suddenly said, a lot louder. "I've been telling him that since I got there!"

Frasier had to smile a bit - just a very tiny bit. "I'm sure he appreciated your candour."

"Well..." Martin paused. He seemed to be thinking about this. "Maybe sometimes I oughta just learn how to keep my trap shut."

"That's good advice for us all," Frasier admitted, knowing that he should sometimes take this advice himself. "Anything else?" he asked.

"Yeah. I'm worried my son doesn't know that I really appreciate what he's doing for me."

"Why don't you tell him?" Frasier asked.

"Well, you know how it is with fathers and sons, it...I'd have trouble saying that stuff." That was true. Martin Crane wasn't very good at admitting his feelings to other people, particularly other men.

"Well if it helps, I suspect your son already knows how you feel," Frasier told his father. "Is that all?"

"Yeah, I guess that's it. Thank you, Dr Crane."

Frasier smiled. "My pleasure, Martin."

Martin suddenly spoke up again. "Did you hear what I said? I said thank you!" In her booth, Roz couldn't resist smiling at that.

"Yes, I heard..." Frasier told him. Roz disconnected Martin and spoke to Frasier.

Ah, Frasier thought. Back to familiar territory. He started speaking to Claire.

"Hello, Claire. I'm listening."

The woman on the other end - who for some reason sounded very much like Sarah Connor from that Terminator movie his father had watched last night - sounded very distraught. "I'm a, well, I'm a mess!" Claire was almost in tears. "8 months ago my boyfriend and I broke up, and I just can't get over it. The pain isn't going away...it's almost like I'm in mourning, or something... "

"Claire, you are in mourning," Frasier told her. He had been going to say something like there were plenty of other fish in the sea, but his conversation with his father had taught him something. "But you're not mourning the loss of your boyfriend. You're mourning the loss of what you thought your life was going to be. Let it go. Things don't always work out how you planned. That's not necessarily bad. Things have a way of working out, anyway." He quickly glanced at Roz. "Have you ever heard of...Lupe Velez?"

Frasier grinned at Roz. She sighed.

Oh God, she thought, that's all we'll hear of for at least a few days. She switched to line 3 to see who should speak to Dr Crane next.

"Hello, my name is Scott and I wish to correct Dr Crane's method of solving the problem of Andy who phoned in earlier. For Dr Crane's information, Beethoven's Unfinished Symphony never helped me get over my girlfriend leaving me for my sister....."

Roz grinned. This caller sounded like fun. Once Claire had hung up, she told Frasier, "We have Scott on line 2..."

"Terminator 2 OK, Dad?" Frasier asked his father. "We watched the first one last night, maybe we should watch the second now."

"Nah," Martin said. "Duke lent me a video we can watch. Look at this!"

He handed Frasier a video.

"World's Naughtiest Highway Blunders 6? But Dad..."

"I hear one of them is from where you used to live in Boston. A Corvette. Duke said that one was a classic..."

A Corvette? Frasier thought. He remembered the time Lilith had bought Sam Malone's Corvette from him, and driven it very, very wildly.

"All right then, let's watch," Frasier said as he sat down next to Daphne on the couch. No sooner had the video started though than Eddie jumped up and started staring at Frasier. Frasier was about to yell at the dog when he put his paw on Frasier's leg.

Frasier looked around.

I guess things don't always work out the way you planned, he thought, but I think we'll all be OK. He sighed with content and resumed watching the tape with his new "family".