Someone--Jacqui?--suggested a B7/Frasier crossover a couple of days ago. The thought percolated (sorry) through my mind at work today, so here goes:
Avon and Vila in Seattle ------------------------
"I'm cold, I'm wet, and I'm miserable," Vila said, shivering. He leapt back into a puddle as a car swished by in the rain. "Can't we take cover before one of these Space Rat choppers runs us over? I don't like the look of them. Or the sound and the smell of them for the matter. I've got a weak chest, you know."
"It matches the rest of you, "Avon said. "But I agree--this place is somewhat unpleasant." He looked around. "Ah, this ought to suit you, Vila--The Cafe Nervosa."
"Oh, ha ha," Vila said weakly, but it did look warm and dry in there. They pushed through the doors, shrugged off their environment slickers, and hung them up.
"Ah, that smells good," Vila said
"Real coffee if I'm not mistaken."
The place was crowded, but Avon steered Vila to a small table with four chairs, two of which were occupied by a balding man and a slightly younger fair-haired man.
"Of course you may sit here," the older man said, irritated. "Most polite of you to ask."
"I saw no point in it. The chairs are obviously vacant." Avon returned.
Vila wriggled his toes uncomfortably and started to remove his wet boots.
"Oh, dear God!" the older man said.
Vila stopped, intimidated. "All right, all right, keep your hair on," he muttered.
A young woman came over. "What'll it be?" she asked, bored.
"I'll have a double-decaf latte with skimmed milk," the younger man said.
"One wimp's special," the girl muttered as she noted that down.
"And I'll have a cappuccino with low-fat," the other man said.
The girl looked at Avon and Vila questioningly.
"He'll have the wimp's special," Avon said, "and I'll have a double-shot short black made from freshly-ground java." Vila, stunned by Avon's expertise in the arcane lore of coffee, forgot to be offended.
"One wimp and one defibrillator," the girl said and went off.
Vila smiled at the other two men and held out his hand. "I'm Vila Restal."
"Pleased to meet you. I'm Frasier Crane, and this is my brother Niles." The other two looked unaccountably nervous. Perhaps the cafe was really was a hang-out for those of a cautious disposition.
"Who are your friends, Frase?" an attractive woman called out. "No room for a little one, then?" She turned a dazzling smile on Avon and Vila. "I'm Roz. You're new here, aren't you?" Avon looked expressionlessly back at her, and Vila smiled amiably.
"They must be from out of state, Roz, as you've haven't slept with either of them."
"Shut up, Niles." Roz leaned over Avon. "Nice outfit. Are you a biker? I've been out with quite a few."
"I'm surprised you use the preposition 'out'."
"Shut up, Niles." Roz did not take her eyes off Avon. "It's been a while since I felt the thrum of a powerful engine between my legs."
Avon lifted an eyebrow. "It may be a while longer yet."
Unabashed, Roz turned her attention to Vila. "What sort of uniform is that? Do you work for a utility? I go for men--"
"You go for men period, Roz," Frasier said impatiently. "For pity's sake, get a chair and sit down."
Roz pulled a chair up very close to Vila, yelling to the waitress for a cappuccino. "You're cute," she said.
"Pick on someone your own size, Roz," Frasier said. He smiled at Vila and Avon. "I do apologise. I believe you're from England by your accents. I'm sorry, I didn't catch your names."
"Vila Restal."
"I--ah--still didn't quite get that."
"I'm Vila and he's Avon. And we're just passing through Seetle."
"It's Seattle you fool," Avon hissed. "There are three syllables."
"Ah, I think I have you placed," Frasier said. "Cambridge, I believe."
"London Dome, both of us" Vila said, puzzled.
"You mean the Millennium Dome?"
"Ignore him." Avon said. "It's much easier."
"I have an idea," Niles said, "We have reservations for La Paris and the opera, and as Daphne can't make it, we have a spare ticket. Perhaps you might be interested--Avon, isn't it?"
"That depends on the cuisine offered at La Paris and which opera it is."
The Crane brothers looked at each other and smiled. "A kindred spirit," Frasier said. "A man of discernment," Nile said.
"What about you, Vila?" Roz said.
"Oh, don't worry about me," Vila said sadly. "Story of my life, this is."
Roz placed her hand on his thigh, and he jumped slightly. "I could show you the sights of Seattle."
"He may like to see more than the inside of your apartment, Roz," Niles said.
"Take him to a restaurant," Frasier suggested. "What do you like, Vila? Steaks? You could take him to that 'all you can eat' place Dad likes so much."
Vila paled. "I'm a vegetarian."
"Don't worry, Vila," Roz said, hooking her arm around his in a grip Vila didn't think he could break. "I'll look after you. And it's 'all you can eat' at my place anyway."
"Uh, I've just remembered--I think I have to clean out the glycolene tanks. Don't I, Avon?"
Avon bared his teeth in a predatory smile. "Of course not, Vila. You enjoy yourself. I know I shall."
Nico
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