"No one, absolutely no one, makes crab like this place. It defines exquisite," he replied. "In this category, you can have San Francisco and Baltimore, and, dare I say, Boston too."

The evening had been as sparkling as the champagne Frasier had ordered. It began with a trip to the top of the Space Needle. "A bit touristy, I must admit," he said, "but at twilight it is magnificently romantic." Then they went to Frasier’s favorite seafood venue, where the conversation between the two was as dynamic as the food. On tap was a visit to a concert hall for a touring chamber music quartet.

"Oh, I do," Zelda said, not telling him she had attended concerts since the days of Bach.

She nodded, impressed. Pavarotti’s very good, she thought, but he’s no Caruso, and knew that firsthand. Then again, we’re not playing ‘Can You Top This?’

Just before they planned to leave, a silver-haired man in a bow tie stopped at Frasier’s table. "Frasier, I know how much you love this place, and I do too," he said, "but you really should try that new Thai restaurant near the university. The peanut sauce is to die for!"

Frasier smiled. "Zelda, I’d like you to meet Gil Chesterton, KACL’s restaurant critic and man about town. Gil, this is my date, Zelda Spellman, in town for the science convention."

Gil bowed his head to her, and she smiled. "Science? I’m guessing you two have some special...chemistry."

They enjoyed the concert from front-row seats. "There is nothing that quite matches the intimacy of chamber music," Frasier said. "It’s a feast for the ears."

Once it ended, Frasier was ready to hail a taxi to take Zelda back to her hotel, but she surprised him by saying, "Let’s head back to your place. I want to compare that balcony view of yours to the Space Needle." With that, she kissed him on the lips.

They entered his darkened apartment and tiptoed to the balcony, Frasier gingerly opening the door. "To be fair, there isn’t much to see of the skyline this late at night," he told Zelda as they looked over the city. "Most everything is dark."

"You mean--"

Zelda nodded. "Yes," she said sensually, caressing Frasier’s neck. "I want to stay the night, and..."

Once in the bedroom, Zelda looked at Frasier’s analog electric alarm clock; the hands read a minute or so before 11:30. Good, enough time to evade the midnight rule, she thought as she and Frasier hurriedly began taking off their clothes. Watches, rings and other jewelry were quickly tossed on a bedroom table. Then clothes were dropped to the floor, with Zelda stripped to bra and pantyhose and Frasier down to his underwear.

They stared into each other’s eyes, embraced, and began removing each other’s undergarments. This stage was so much easier in the age of stockings and garter belts, Zelda thought, recalling a fling in her flapper days, while Frasier struggled to pull off her pantyhose.

Eventually the hose came off, Frasier turned out the light, and the two tumbled into bed, successfully enjoying each other for several minutes. When that was all finished, Zelda glanced at the lighted alarm clock; it read about 11:45. Even though she now was without her powers, sort of a strange feeling to any witch, she smiled, knowing she’d beaten the deadline. Enjoy your short-lived powers as you fall asleep, lover boy, she said to herself while Frasier closed his eyes and went to sleep.

Or tried to; he felt unusual, for some reason he couldn’t fathom. After a few minutes, he got up, discreetly put on his underwear and a bathrobe, and went to the kitchen, where he was surprised to see Martin, drinking coffee.

"Very good," Martin nodded, getting up to return to bed. "Oh, by the way, adjust that ancient alarm clock of yours about 25 minutes. The building had a power failure while you were out. We fixed all the other clocks, and would’ve taken care of yours if you hadn’t locked your room. Jeez."

Checking the time on the watch, he adjusted the alarm clock and put it down. To her shock, Zelda saw the time was now about 12:25 or so -- which meant she and Frasier had completed their lovemaking at approximately 12:10.

Oh my God, she thought in horror. We did it past midnight! My witch powers are gone for nearly 24 hours, and now belong to...Frasier Crane!

"Sure," he said, "use my bathroom." He pointed, a gesture that suddenly filled Zelda with dread, since he didn’t know his "gun" was now loaded. "If you want more privacy, turn on the fan to muffle the sound."

She did just that, hoping it would be strong enough to prevent Frasier from eavesdropping, and called Hilda, even though it was now roughly 3:30 a.m. in the east.

"Hilda?"

Hilda caught on, and wasn’t perturbed. "Well, it’ll be midnight out there soon, and you’ll have your powers back. Be patient."

"There’s a three-hour difference between there and here, not four. Look at your alarm clock."

Hilda did, and suddenly understood her sister’s predicament. "You mean...you broke the midnight rule?"

Hilda nodded. "I can see where that could cause problems."

"Anyway, mix his haughtiness with magic and there’s no telling what could happen," Zelda said, hoping he couldn’t hear her above the fan. "Someone who isn’t an expert on opera could find themselves transformed into another species."

"Like when Sabrina sneezed and temporarily gave her powers to her teacher Mrs. Quick, who briefly acquired her powers and turned Willard Kraft into a monkey," Hilda recalled. "In retrospect, I loved it."

"That good-looking investment banker down the street."

Zelda paused. "That’s it! You’ve just given me an idea on how to keep Frasier Crane on the straight and narrow while he has my powers."

"Listen, I’ve got a better, safer idea. Now I want you to head over to the Other Realm, to the Witches’ Science Alliance, where I’ve been assisting on a project..."