And flavor – specifically the scents of coffee beans -- was what she sensed when she walked past a door. She turned to it and saw a sign: "Café Nervosa."

She smiled and thought to herself, You might as well go in. It’s Seattle, and when in Rome, do as the... She was thankful the convention was not in Cincinnati or Philadelphia, where she’d have to gorge on chilli or cheese steaks.

She walked to the line at the counter, gazed at the menu, and decided to order a vanilla latte. Not the most adventurous selection, to be sure, but nonetheless likely bound to satisfy. While waiting, she overheard a conversation at a nearby table.

"Strictly based on my phone call with him last night, you would not believe how he raved about this woman," a man was saying. "He views her almost as a goddess, a larger-than-life figure, someone who enthrals his psyche as much as his libido."

"Ah, so what else is new?" a female replied. "You know what Frasier is like."

With that, Zelda’s ears figuratively perked up. She turned towards the conversation and saw a woman in a dark green sweater and gray slacks chatting with a nattily attired, slender man in a dark blue three-piece suit. Curious to learn more, she decided to leave the line and walked to their table.

"Excuse me," she said, "but I heard you mention the name Frasier. Is he that, uh, radio talk host?"

"The very one," the man said. "And I happen to be his brother, Niles Crane."

"And I’m Frasier’s producer, Roz Doyle," the woman added, pulling out a chair and inviting the stranger to sit down. "Do you listen to the show?"

Zelda blushed as she took her seat. "Well, not really since I’m from out of town, but I met him last night and am dating him this evening."

"So you’re the mysterious Zelda!" Niles replied.

"And you’re going out with him?" Roz said. "Should I feel admiration or pity?"

Zelda was now confused. "What do you mean?"

"Frasier’s great to work with and a good friend, but...well, let’s say that every now and then he can be a real witch."

Just to be on the safe side – suppose this guy is really a witch and I don’t know it -- Zelda asked, "In what sense?"

Roz answered, "Snobby, overbearing, pretentious..."

Niles interjected, "And you’re saying these are inherently bad qualities?" With that, he excused himself to use the men’s room.

"Peas in a pod," Roz said to Zelda, pointing at Niles’ empty chair. "At times, he can make Frasier look like Mr. Meat-and-Potatoes."

"I see where you’re coming from. I met their father last night, and he seems nothing like them."

"Their dad’s a real gem," Roz said. "They may not have inherited his tastes, but they did inherit his good nature. If they hadn’t, I wouldn’t be working for Frasier or having coffee with Niles."

"You’re not dating?"

"Niles?" Roz nearly broke into laughter. "Hell, no! But I’ll tell you who Niles secretly has the hots for: Daphne Moon, Martin Crane’s live-in physical therapist. Everyone knows it but Daphne, and sometimes Niles, for that matter."

"One of those relationships," Zelda said with a nod.

"The stuff that screwball comedies are made of," Roz replied. "Think of William Powell or Cary Grant pursuing Carole Lombard or Myrna Loy." That brought a smile to Zelda’s face, as she had faithfully attended all four of those stars’ movies in the thirties and forties.

Roz then looked at her watch. "I need to be over at the station in a few minutes to start preparing Frasier’s show today. It’s been nice meeting you, Zelda. Here, let me order you something before I go."

"A vanilla latte won’t break your budget, will it?"

Roz placed a $10 bill on the table. "This will cover that, what I ordered, and a tip. Niles pays separately." She stood up. "Have a great time in Seattle, and I’ll tell Frasier you said hello." With that, she left the café.

About 20 seconds later, Niles returned from the men’s room. "Briefcase safe and sound, I see," he said. "Where’d Roz go? Off to work?"

Zelda nodded as Niles placed a $5 bill on the table.

"It’s off to my practice. Enjoy the convention...and your date tonight," he said, hailing an attendant to take Zelda’s order.

"Oh, by the way," she said with a smile just before he left the table, "I’m not larger than life. I’m only 5-foot-8, about 5-10 in heels."

The seminar on global warming was intriguing. Oh boy, another thing to worry about in addition to Y2K, Zelda thought, which reminded her to tell Sabrina to refrain from using her powers on New Year’s Eve, as 1999 rolled into 2000 – just to make sure the world wouldn’t accidentally be sent back to 999.

When it ended shortly after 1 p.m., Zelda went into an empty women’s lounge, sat in a wicker chair and pointed at her micro-cassette to turn it into a headphone radio. She then used her magic to find KACL’s frequency and put on her headphones.

"Good afternoon Seattle, this is Dr. Frasier Crane signing on for another day. And while I’m at it, let me welcome the Science Convention of North America to our fair city. We hope all of you who are visiting enjoy the many qualities the Pacific Northwest has to offer. Roz, who’s our first call today?"

"It’s a Zelda...oops! Make that Jen from Puyallup."

"Hello, Jen," a notably perturbed Frasier said. "I’m listening."

Zelda laughed heartily at Roz’s joke, even a few seconds later when two other women entered the lounge and stared at her as if she were daffy. She listened to Frasier give advice for a few minutes, then shut off the radio to eat a quick lunch and attend an afternoon seminar on physics.

Meanwhile at KACL, Frasier wasn’t taking Roz’s joke quite as well, and let her know it when he rushed into her booth during the first commercial break.

"Zelda? Just how did you find out about her?"

"Oh, relax, Frasier. She came into Café Nervosa this morning."

Now Frasier was confused. "Do you have some psychic radar that sets off when a woman I’m dating is near?"

"Niles told me what you told him about her, and she overheard us." Roz smiled. "Nothing to worry about; I said nice things about you. She seems like a very bright and lovely lady."

With that, Frasier relaxed a bit. "I left a message for her to come to my apartment at five tonight."

Roz paused. "Why not pick her up at the hotel?"

"When I drove Dad, her, and Herb back from the train station yesterday, it was apparent she had some rapport with Dad and probably wanted to meet him again. So I’ll comply."

"Well, I hope you two have a great date. Oh, and get back to the studio; you’re on in five, four, three, two..."

As the elevator ascended in the Elliott Bay Towers high-rise apartment complex, Zelda, still wearing the dark coat and red dress she’d put on for the convention, was a mite nervous. Not about Frasier’s intentions, since he seemed like a scrupulous fellow, but about how she was presenting herself in this kind of social situation. Sure, she’d been on plenty of dates before, but it had been a while since she had dated someone of Frasier’s apparent intellectual stature. What if, for once, she didn’t measure up?

At last, the car stopped at the 19th floor, and Zelda saw a door reading "1901," Frasier’s apartment, right in front of her. She rang the doorbell, heard it chime, and, within seconds, Frasier himself answered.

"Zelda, you look positively wonderful!" he said as they exchanged perfunctory kisses on the cheek. "Welcome to my abode. Hang up your coat and stay awhile. Excuse me, but I have to return to the kitchen for a minute."

She was impressed with the tastefully furnished apartment, aside from an out-of-place Barcalounger in the middle of it all, and the Seattle skyline in the distance. "Where’s your dad?" she asked.

"Oh, he and Daphne – that’s his therapist – are out getting some groceries," Frasier replied as he disappeared from sight into the kitchen.

"Okay," Zelda said as she took off her coat and looked in the mirror. To her dismay, she saw an ugly, and noticeable, run in the thigh of her sheer suntan pantyhose. How did that happen, she wondered. Maybe it was from sitting in that wicker chair in the women’s lounge.

Fortunately, she knew a foolproof, discreet way of fixing the run; she pointed her finger at it, and in less than a second the stocking leg was magically back to normal. Nobody saw or will know the difference, she said to herself.

Nobody, except a Jack Russell terrier on the sofa named Eddie who had never witnessed anything like that before...

A few seconds later, Martin and Daphne entered with groceries. "Frasier, we’re back! Oh, and I see Zelda has arrived," he yelled. "Glad to see you again. Zelda, meet Daphne."

While the two women exchanged pleasantries and Zelda took in Daphne’s English accent, Eddie got off the sofa to greet Martin, until he saw Zelda standing nearby. The terrier immediately ran away from her to another section of the room.

"That’s not like him," Martin said. "Eddie is usually great around people who visit."

"Maybe he senses I’m a cat person; we have one at home," Zelda said. Well, actually Salem was a witch who had been sentenced to cathood by the Witches’ Council for attempted world domination, but she wasn’t going to mention that.

Frasier came from the kitchen, holding two glasses of wine. "Enjoy some of the best Merlot you’ve ever quaffed, Zelda," he said, handing a glass while looking over her sleek, leggy figure and raising a toast. "To the magic," he said, a word that caught her off-guard, "of science." She let out an inward sigh of relief. "Once we finish these off, it’s time for exquisite dining and chamber music."

Martin, by now in his customary Barcalounger, grinned. "Speaking of magic, Daphne here maintains she has psychic powers."

That unnerved Zelda. What if she unknowingly was a witch hunter? Sabrina now had the same problem at school with a newcomer named Brad, and it only added more tension to the teen’s life.

"You don’t detect anything about me, do you?" Zelda asked Daphne playfully, though it really wasn’t.

"No, not really," she replied, "but give me time."

Let’s hope she was being sarcastic, Zelda thought.

"C’mon here, Eddie," Martin said to the dog, who carefully walked to the chair and jumped in his lap...but not before giving Zelda a stare, as if he knew a secret.