Chapter 4
LATE MORNING
"Owwwww"
Frasier awoke to hear a loud groan as Roz began to wake up, probably with one of the worst hangovers of her life he surmised. He was careful not to move, deciding to let her wake up at her own pace, not to mention with her lying virtually on top of him it would have been rather unsettling. He figured she'd roll off as she was coming to, giving him the opportunity to slip out of the bed unnoticed. Much to his surprise she didn't seem the least bit shocked when she opened her eyes to see him there.
"Morning," he said softly, not wanting to aggravate her headache.
"Oh my head," she moaned, then paused to take a look at the situation. "Mmmm..." was all she said as she curled close again, running her fingers over Frasier's chest lightly as she closed her eyes again. Frasier almost squeaked in his response. "Roz what are you doing?"
"What do you mean, didn't we...." her voice trailed off as she tried to remember what had happened the night before, but nothing came to her. "Tell me what happened, all of it," she demanded, holding her temples.
Frasier started with the call from the bartender, and told her the whole story, with the exception of how she had danced with him.
"Oh no, Daphne saw me like this." Roz was obviously embarrassed.
"She was glad to, besides it was either her or me." Frasier tried to put a positive light on it as he stroked her back trying to keep her calm. "So want to tell me what happened?" He suggested after a few minutes of silence, the body heat between them driving him to distraction.
"It's so embarrassing," Roz hesitated.
"How much more embarrassing can it be than last night?" Frasier reasoned.
"True." Roz groaned, before taking a deep sigh to begin her story. "It was a guy of course. A friend set us up, and he was really good looking and seemed so nice. When I saw him heading through this part of town I asked him where we were going and he said to a motel. So of course then I asked him about dinner and why we were going to a motel instead of his place. I was starting to feel a little odd, you know how the hairs on the back of your neck stand up when something's not quite right? Anyway he said that he just wanted to cut to the action and forget all the preliminaries. He said that the word on the street was that I would jump in the sack with almost anyone." Roz paused trying to hold back the tears that were beginning to threaten.
Frasier pulled her slightly closer trying to comfort her, yet remaining silent while waiting for her to continue.
"I told him that I wasn't a hooker and I refused to be treated as such, I was getting mad by this time you know, and then he said that as far as he had heard I was better than a prostitute because I didn't cost anything. Which of course made me smack him and tell him to let me out of the car. That's when things got scary. He laughed and said no way, he wasn't going to let me go before he got what he wanted. So I waited until he slowed down for a stoplight and jumped out of the car. And of course it had to be in the worst part of town... that's when I ran into the bar. I was so humiliated that all I wanted to do was wash away the pain." Roz finished, once again starting to cry as the memories came flooding back.
Frasier held her close, rocking her in a soothing motion. Thankful the outcome hadn't been worse.
Roz didn't say anything for several moments as she regained composure, finally sitting up she reached for a tissue.
"Is my reputation really that bad?" She asked quietly.
"Oh Roz, he was a jerk, your reputation may be a little blemished, but people aren't calling you a prostitute." Frasier tried to console her, but knew she wanted the truth.
"A little blemished?" Roz looked up in surprise, "What do you mean."
"Well Roz, it's no secret that you're not exactly an old-fashioned girl." Frasier tried to put it gently, though still winced as he saw a flash of pain go through her eyes.
"So you're saying I'm a slut too?"
"No that's not what I'm saying..." Frasier started trying to extract himself from the sudden hole he seemed to be in.
"Then what are you saying?" Roz demanded.
"Roz, just calm down, you're being oversensitive. You've dated and slept with half of Seattle, what do you expect your reputation to be?" He retaliated, immediately feeling regretful at the hurt he saw in her face.
Roz was silent for several moments digesting this latest piece of information. "Leave." She finally said flatly.
"What?"
"I said I want you to leave, I need some time to think." She said again as she pulled away from him and started to stand up.
"Roz, wait I didin't mean..." Frasier began.
"I know.. I know, you're right, well not about the half of Seattle part, but you're right." Her shoulders sagged slightly. "Thanks Frasier, you were a good friend to come get me like you did, but now I need to be alone. I promise I'll be OK." Roz assured him.
"Well, Ok, I guess." Frasier was hesitant as he picked up his clothes and started pulling them on over his shorts and the t-shirt. "Oh did you want this t-shirt back?" He asked, wondering if she would say anything about keeping it.
"No, that's ok, you can keep it. It was yours after all, I just kept it for....... well never mind. I'll see you tomorrow Frasier." Roz walked him to the door.
"Kept it for what Roz." He asked quietly, he had to know.
"Because it was loose and comfortable." She finished quickly, not meeting his eyes as she opened the door.
Frasier knew that wasn't the truth but sensed it was not the time to press for details, so without saying a word he exited. Leaning against the door for a moment after it shut behind him. Almost tempted to go back in, especially when he heard the muffled sobs coming from the other side of the door before they faded as Roz moved away.