As promised, Donny delivered a financial settlement proposal to Niles promptly the next morning. It was more than fair, and frankly more than he had hoped for. It would be enough to pay off his remaining legal debts and, given a little time, move him back into the Montana. He signed it and faxed it back before he could lose his nerve.

Maris signed it without complaint-in fact, without a single word. They met in a small office used specifically by her law firm as a mediation room, because it was considered neutral territory. Her lawyers lined one side of the table, while Donny and Niles sat alone on the other side. She was impeccably turned out as always, wearing a tailored silk suit, with a gauzy scarf wrapped around her perfectly coiffed hair, and large sunglasses hiding most of her face. She didn't look at Niles, and turned her head with a haughty sniff when he said hello to her.

It was a small rejection, merely the latest in a line of many, and he didn't expect it to sting as much as it did.

With the settlement done, only the formality of the court date remained, and he didn't need to be present for that. The decree would be summarized and reviewed by the judge, he'd add his stamp of approval, and then it would be final. Donny secured a court date for the following Thursday, a day ahead of his promised time frame.

Then Niles went home, back to the Shangri-La. It was only mid-morning but he'd canceled his appointments for the day. He was in no frame of mind to give competent therapy to anyone.

He was halfway through his second glass of wine when there was a soft knock on the door. Niles cast a disinterested glance at it and tried to decide whether he wanted to get off the couch. The reality of his divorce felt like a weight on his chest, pinning him down. By all rights he should be happy to finally be free, but the bleak future of bachelorhood was all too real. If he'd thought he still had a chance with Daphne, he'd be delighted to be single, but maybe it was foolish to keep clinging to that slender hope.

He tilted the glass and swallowed the rest, his head spinning a little from the influx of alcohol on an empty stomach. He hadn't slept well for days, and his appetite had been sporadic at best. He did all right when it was lunch at the office or dinner with Frasier, but when he was alone at the Shangri-La, food just seemed to take so much effort.

The knock came again, more insistent this time. Niles sighed and got to his feet. He scrubbed a hand over his face and shook himself slightly. Then he shuffled to the door and opened it, to find Daphne on the other side.

"Niles," she said, and then stopped, as if she wasn't sure what to say next. Her hands were knotted anxiously in front of her, but her small smile was hopeful.

"Daphne," Niles whispered. He stepped back and waved her in, and she walked into the apartment. He saw her glance at the open wine bottle on the coffee table, and the glass beside it, and he winced. It wasn't even lunchtime yet. That wasn't going to look good.

"It's not… I don't usually," he said, and waved at the wine.

"It's all right," she said. "I understand."

He nodded, and took a cautious step toward her. "I'm glad you came to see me."

"I'm glad you waited for me to be ready," she replied. "I'm sorry I… the way I stormed out last time, I didn't really give you a chance to explain."

"No, it's not your fault," Niles said. "You had every right to be angry. I'm the one who's sorry."

She flashed a smile at him, guarded but kind, and he took another step toward her. "I hear your divorce is going well?" she asked.

He nodded quickly. "We signed everything today, this morning. It won't be official until Thursday but that's only procedure. The real work is done."

She wrapped a gentle hand around his wrist and drew him closer, then slid her arms around his waist. He sank gratefully into the hug, his own arms fitting easily around her. He buried his nose in her hair and breathed as deep as he could. The relief was a physical thing, a lightness on his shoulders and white noise in his head, making his knees watery and his throat ache. "Thank you," he murmured.

"For what?" she asked, her voice a warm puff of air against his ear. He shivered and held her tighter.

"I can't tell you how much I missed you. How much I needed this."

Her hand stroked up and down his spine, leaving a trail of heat on his skin. "I missed you too," she admitted. "That's why I had to come back, to talk to you. I told myself that if I stopped missing you after only a couple weeks, it wasn't meant to be. But I couldn't stop thinking about you."

"Oh, Daphne." He nuzzled the skin of her neck, tasting salt and cotton, and she made a soft sound, more of a sigh than a word. He kissed her again, more deliberately this time, a line of delicate touches along her jaw to a spot just behind her ear that made her tremble.

She pulled back and gave him a stern look, but her face was flushed and her eyes sparkling. "Now, listen," she said. "You be honest with me from now on. I mean it."

"I promise," Niles replied.

"I always thought I'd never get involved with a man who was separated," Daphne said. "Too much of a mess, too much chance I'd just be a rebound for him."

"You're not," Niles said. "You could never be just a rebound. You're so much more. I wish I'd met you first. I wish I'd met you fifteen years ago. I feel like I've already missed time that I should have been with you."

She nodded and leaned into him, rubbing her cheek on his shoulder. "The first time I saw you, I had the oddest feeling that I knew you, that you were familiar. That I was supposed to know you. Everything was so perfect and then I found out you were married and it was all a lie…"

"It wasn't a lie," Niles told her earnestly. "None of it. Everything I said to you, about the way I feel, what you do to me, every word was true. I shouldn't have hidden my divorce from you, I know that. And I won't hide anything from you again. Ask me anything, I'll be honest."

He met her eyes, then took her hand and brought it to his lips. He kissed her knuckles, turned her hand, and pressed another kiss to the inside of her wrist. She watched, and he could hear her breathing speed up.

"I believe you," she said, and drew her hand back. "Now, I've got to go to work. But if you come over to my place later, I'll make you dinner."

"It's a date," Niles said, beaming. "I'll bring the wine."

She nodded, got two steps toward the door, and then spun on her heel. Niles had time to notice the gleam in her eyes and the predatory tilt of her smile, and then her arms were around him. They kissed until he was breathless and dizzy, swaying on his feet, his heartbeat thundering in his ears. Then he rested his chin on her shoulder and closed his eyes, feeling the cool silk of her hair soft on his face.

"Are you smelling my hair again?" she asked, sounding amused.

"Yes," he said. "Every chance I get."

She gave a low, throaty laugh. "Well, I did ask you to be honest, glad to see you're taking it seriously."

"Very," Niles replied. "Mmm…" He slid one hand down her back, his fingertips brushing the bare skin just below the hem of her shirt.

"I really do have to go to work," she scolded him, not very convincingly.

"Uh-huh," he said. Her skin was warm, and he traced small circles at the base of her spine while he pressed another line of kisses to her throat.

"Niles…" She pulled back reluctantly. "Later. But… not much later."

He nodded, then drew her back in for one more kiss. "You taste even better than you smell," he mumbled, half drunk on the feel of her in his arms.

She laughed. "And what do I smell like that's so appealing anyway?"

Niles closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Cherry bark and almonds."

END