He nodded. "Would you like to go out on the balcony? We’ll have some privacy, and for Seattle in mid-November, it’s surprisingly balmy."

But before they could do so, Martin emerged from his bedroom. "I just wanted to get a final cup of joe while I finish reading my book," he said. "Zelda, ever read real-life police or detective books?"

Frasier turned to Zelda. "I’m really quite sorry if that sounded as if he were casting doubts on the purity of our relationship," he said softly. "I don’t like thinking that other people are assuming what we have is–"

He thinks other people think you’re a slut, Hilda bluntly told her sister. But judging from the 30-second screen, he doesn’t feel that way, so you’re all right.

Not that I can tell, her younger sister replied. I think his feelings towards you are genuine, and he’s not out for another time in the sack.

That’s good, Zelda said, because if I slept with him again, it’d just be another chaotic 24 hours. Eventually that would catch up with both of us.

Not to mention me in here another day, further spoiling what little life I have, Hilda added.

Martin, carefully holding his cup of coffee, walked past the pair. "Hey, listen," he told Zelda. "I hope what I just said didn’t make you feel unwelcome here. Just as Frasier and Niles have the common decency I always wanted from my sons..."

Zelda smiled and gave Martin a peck on the cheek while grasping his cup of coffee so it wouldn’t fall. "It’s evident from Frasier that you did a great job as a father," she told him, "and for that I thank you."

Martin glanced at his watch. "Heck, it’s past 11:30," he said, shuffling to his room and closing the door behind him.

"Now’s the time," Frasier said, waving his hand towards the balcony and handing Zelda his jacket. "Here, wear this in case it gets chilly out there."

"Still the gentleman, I see." It’s 11:33, Hilda told her sister. Just hold on for 27 minutes more, and you’ll be a full-fledged witch again.

For a few minutes, they simply stared out at the darkened Seattle skyline, without talking; like the night before, there was little to see, though the sounds of the streets below softly resonated through the air. Then, at 11:38 according to Zelda’s watch, Frasier turned to her.

She smiled in response and clasped her hands over the railing. "I believe you’re right. There are many things I’d like to tell you, and probably things you want to tell me, but where is the framework for it? What’s the proper setting? We don’t know what it is yet."

You’re in a purple dress, and he’s reciting purple prose, Hilda said. You’re not believing all this garbage, Zelly, are you?

Zelda looked into his eyes. "Frasier, if I took this job I could be offered and relocated out here, don’t feel I’d be pressuring you to continue this relationship if it isn’t what you want. I like your style, your taste, your intelligence, but above all I want you to be happy."

He smiled at her. "After all these hours you’ve spent with me, it should be obvious that, at times, I’m not the easiest person in the world to get along with."

"To borrow a Gershwin title, nice work if you can get it," Frasier said as Zelda nodded. Both feeling slightly awkward, they retreated to their previous positions watching over the city, her hands folded just over the railing.

I sense he’s thinking about living life with you, Hilda told her sister. No, nothing on the screen; it’s just a hunch of mine.

It should come as no surprise to you that I’m doing likewise, sis. Zelda smiled. He and I, married, albeit a few years from now...

...that I’m a witch? Sure, in time. I mean, Ted did it, Zelda replied,referring to their brother and Sabrina’s father, who had married a mortal woman before they ultimately divorced. I don’t think he’d be intimidated by my powers, nor would he try to exploit me or reveal my secret.

And our mother looks nothing at all like Agnes Moorehead, Hilda quipped. By the way, it’s 11:51.

The silence continued for a few minutes more, while Hilda carefully watched the clock near the 30-second device. It was now 11:57, and all systems seemed go before Frasier’s temporary magic would revert back to Zelda.

Still resting her hands on the railing, Zelda turned her head to look at Frasier. "I think I’ve said this at least once since we met," she said, "but just in case I haven’t, I will say it now. I love you."

Frasier thought about it for a few seconds, and concurred. "Over the centuries, great minds – Freud, Jung among them – have tried to comprehend it, define it, distill it, ultimately without success. Love indeed has an almost magical, mystical power."

Just after the clock reached 11:59 and the day’s final seconds began ticking off, Zelda again glanced at Frasier. "Love is pretty powerful, isn’t it?"

There were about 35 seconds to go before midnight when Hilda looked at her screen, and to her surprise saw only Zelda on the balcony. Where was Frasier? Then she saw something small on the screen fall from a stunned Zelda’s grasp.

Hilda hurriedly pressed the "freeze" button -- and that small item turned out to be Frasier himself. I know where this is going, she thought.

Zelda suddenly heard a "May day, May day" shout inside her psyche. Frasier’s going to say you have him in the palm of your hand, and you’ll accidentally drop him off the balcony! Do something! You have only a few seconds!

Whew, that was close, Hilda told her sister while wiping her forehead in relief. But, did you mean what you just said?

Frasier, who apparently didn’t feel a thing from the magic transfer, rested his chin on his fist in thought for a few seconds, and then nodded. "As much as we obviously love each other, I sense you’re doing the right thing," he told Zelda. "This relationship developed in an incorrect way. Like a poorly cared-for houseplant, we gave it too much water at the start, and now it will never blossom to its potential."

Tell me about it, Zelda and Hilda simultaneously thought.

Zelda nodded in agreement. "In addition, you have your obligations to Frederick, the son with Lilith you told me about. I have mine, especially to my niece Sabrina as she prepares to become a young adult. And there are 3,000 miles between us, and will continue to be, since if I’m offered that job I’m going to turn it down. Could this work between us? Perhaps in the future, but not now."

This is coming off like the end of a comic book, Hilda telepathically told her sister, as if you were Superman and Frasier Crane was Lois Lane. What next? Are you going to wink at the audience?

Hilda, get out, Zelda answered. And using her regained magic for the first time, she zapped her sister out of Frasier’s now-mortal brain and into the bottom of her handbag.