The morning of the day her life changed forever, Emily Maxwell entered her apartment to find her boyfriend pulling on a pair of her nylons. She closed the door behind her, hardly giving him a second glance, and stated, "We need to talk."

Ken, a bleach blond, had put on a curly red wig. Laid out next to him on the bed was a red evening gown. One Emily had never worn. He stammered, "I can explain...."

"About what?" Emily asked, then snorted and waved her hand. "Oh, you mean the fact you wear my clothes. I knew all about that."

In height and weight, Emily and Ken were about the same. He had slightly defined muscles, she was short and fat. Still, they could wear the exact same size clothing. They also both had small but wide feet. Their coloring, however, was very different. Emily was fair of skin, the type that didn't ever tan but burned, with grey eyes and mounds of blond hair. Ken had darker skin that tanned well, his hair was naturally brown but as mentioned before, bleached. His eyes were brown, but he covered them with ice blue contacts like the ones Lucy Lawless wore in Xena.

"You knew?" There was a stunned look on Ken's face, his wig was now askew.

Rolling her eyes, Emily said, "Ken, I've known for months. You buy me thongs you know I'll never wear, and yet they still end up in my hamper, obviously worn. My shoes and clothing will be all out of place. I also know the only reason you dated me is because I'm fat and we wear the same size."

Ken tried to protest but Emily waved him off. Walking to the too tiny kitchen to get a drink of water. Though she craved something stronger.

As soon as her thirst was quenched, she returned, slipping the engagement ring Ken had forced on her the night before off her finger. It contained a diamond so large she thought it obscene.
Not surprising as Ken was the heir to millions. She found the box for it and popped it in then held it out to him.

"Ken, it's over." Before he could respond, she continued, "You did something unforgivable. Not only did you propose and not give me a chance to say no even though you know I never want to get married, but you actually said that once it happened - which it never will - you never wanted me to sing again. I'm not giving up what I love for anyone, Ken."

While Ken tried to give her all the arguments as to why she couldn't break up with him,
including the most compelling - she sang at his uncle's club - Emily packed up all of Ken's things. Including the offending thong undies, and several dresses that she had never worn as the color of them was way more complimentary to Ken's coloring, not her's. She then went through his pants and retrieved his copy of her apartment keys, knowing he wouldn't give them up without a fight.

"I'll find another job, though think about one thing, Ken," she threatened, though both of them knew she'd never carry out the threat, "how quickly will your ultra-conservative family disown you when they find out you prance about in women's clothing?"

When Ken, his male clothing hastily pulled over the bra and panties he had been wearing, had stomped out with his belongings in tow, Emily sighed. Then she began to strip off her performance clothes and get ready for bed. Pulling the special darkening curtains that helped her sleep during the day. Noise didn't bother her so much.

Emily had moved to New York from California. It seemed it was the only place a fat woman could get a singing gig. Especially when that woman specialized in jazz, blues, and Broadway musicals rather then hip-hop, rap, or heavy metal. It was hard to get use to New York. Riding the subway or bus instead of driving, the weather, no earthquakes.

Ken had made her move here. He had been visiting California when they met. At first he had seemed so perfect. A nice guy who'd do anything for a woman he was with. Then he convinced her to move across the country. Upset with her when she insisted on choosing a place of her own instead of moving in with him. More then that, she had chosen to live in Brooklyn instead of Manhattan. Sure, it meant a long nightly commute, but the tiny one person apartment in Brooklyn was more affordable on her tight budget. Not by much, of course.

Now she would have to think about moving back with her parents. Though she could get another job, she also knew Ken would make it hard on her.

She found out that Ken hated music. Any music. Last night when he had proposed to her, he had said that she would never sing again, not even lullabies. Bad enough to be tied to one person forever, but to be tied to someone who denied her the very elixir of her life? Sheer horror!

Pulling the blankets over her head, Emily just prayed that Ken wouldn't carry out his threat to have her fired anymore then she'd reveal he liked dayglow pink thongs.

Emily had slept poorly. Worry and fear had ate at her gut. It didn't show, however, and she took the stage that night. Music energized her. Filled her with passion. The rest of the world fell away as she sang and it showed. At the same time she was open for the entire world, she was also far away from them. No one could tell that just a few minutes ago she had been fired and tonight was her last night. That she had barely enough in her savings to see to rent this month.

Her world was falling apart, but no one could tell because as long as she sang, it was whole.

Daniel Gillain's life was about to change that night as well. Though his life was pretty sweet.
Just barely above 50, he had gone from a dirt poor Brooklyn boy to a very wealthy man. A respected man.

He had changed a lot and at the same time very little. As a boy he had been a scrawny thing with a nose too big for his face and unruly brown hair. As an adult he was still thin, one could easily wrap their hand around his ankle and have their fingers over lap. His nose was still large though it now fit his face. Not looking at all out of place. The brown hair was cut shorter and frosted with blond to help hide the grey. Instead of ill fitting second and third hand clothing, he wore custom tailored suits.

All because he followed his passion - music. Daniel Gillain was the most sought after composer and arranger in the world. From classical artists to the biggest name rap stars, everyone wanted his magic touch on their music.

Yet he was not happy. It seemed the last decade music had been on the decline. People no longer appreciated true talent. They just wanted half-dressed tone deaf underage sluts flinging themselves around like dancers at a strip club. More and more often now he had to "fix" songs so some brain dead little twat who had only gotten a contract because she or he had spread their legs could sound like they could actually sing. Even then they needed heavy help from computers.

Music, real music, was dying. Only the few hold-overs kept it going. But they were hardly listened to by the younger crowd. Just made fun of.

There was one place where music, real music, could be found. At the night clubs. The kind that tried to give an appearance, at least, of being semi-classy. Where screaming lyrics wouldn't fly because the patrons wanted to be able to converse over the music.

It was into one of these places he headed, alone. Asking for a table near the stage which currently was empty. The band taking one of their brief breaks. It took a hefty tip, but he managed to get a table that had been reserved for someone else that hadn't shown yet.

He ordered a simple cup of hot herbal tea. A few years ago he had a heart scare. So now he was extra careful about what he ate and drank. Somehow he felt there was something waiting for him around the next bend.

When the band retook the stage he sat back and observed them. With the exception of the singer,
they were all males. Neatly dressed and groomed. They all seemed a little slumped shoulder, like if they were upset about something. Especially the woman.

It was hard not to focus on her. Not just because she was standing at the front of the stage, but because she was so - hefty. Though he was sure she was probably shorter then him - not an easy thing to do since he wasn't very tall himself, in fact he wore very thick soled shoes to give himself added height - she could probably make three of him weight-wise. He'd put her around 250, maybe more, and about five feet, three inches tall.

Still, she was cute with her curly blond hair that poofed a bit like his hair use to in the 1970s.
Only a bit neater as she pinned it back some. A small nose, like a little button, apple cheeks, and a little pink bow of a mouth. She wore a purple dress with a simple but long strand of pearls. It all went well with her pale complexion and her compelling grey eyes.

She looked sad, until the music started. Then suddenly everything changed. Her eyes began to sparkle. Her shoulders straightened. Though the song she sang was at the same time angry and sad, she was obviously enjoying herself. Passion escaped out of the slightest movement of her head in huge waves.

And the voice! Oh! This was the voice Daniel had always dreamed of composing for. A bit rough around the edges, yes, but that could be fixed with some practice. She was a soprano with quite a range, even down into low notes many sopranos he knew could never hit clearly. It rang like a bell with a touch of operatic vibrato. For one song she was sultry, for another bright and cheerfully innocent.

Then she sang one of his songs. One so obscure hardly anyone sang it. Hardly anyone knew it existed. It was a song not unlike the famous Peggy Lee hit, Fever, but with more to it, and a little more historically accurate. No references to an 11 year old Pocahontas getting all hot and bothered for an abusive and much older John Smith for example. The was she handled it - with both buckets of passion, yet oodles of reserve. Like a woman who wants to give into temptation,
and yet just can't because of moral constraints.

When she looked his way during that song, Daniel would later admit to a friend that his pants suddenly grew three sizes too small.

This - this is what all the health food had been for. All the exercising and constant monitoring of his heart. Here was his muse. Christine Daae to his Erik. Here was someone with whom he could resuscitate the dying world of music.

For any woman whom he normally wouldn't even be caught dead with that could give him such a reaction, such uncharacteristic fantasies, must be the reason he was born.

That night, Daniel's life began to change.

"We're gonna miss ya, Em." Rupert said, slapping her on the back like if she was just one boys.
"Best singer we ever had."

The other boys in the band were a little more friendly. Heart felt hugs were shared around. Even a few tears. And some teasing of Rupert's uncomfortableness with being touchy-feely.

"Shame that Ken has to be such an asshole." Kevin said, shaking his head. "Millions of dollars and no soul."

Emily offered a weak smile. The fact was, her mom had tried to warn her, but Emily had been so swept up in the idea of finally making a comfortable living singing - fame did not interest her because of the tabloids - that she had let Ken drag her here. It didn't take her long to figure out she was being used, but by then she had a small fan base and was happy because she was doing what she loved. "Well, thankfully a few other clubs have tried to steal me away and I called earlier, they're still interested in hiring me. So I won't be jobless, just not getting paid as much."

Cindy, a waitress, stepped into the kitchen where the band had gathered to eat once last meal together. "Em, there's a guy out there who insists on seeing you. He just won't leave and we really need to close up."

Sighing, Emily gave everyone one last hug then headed out. In the main area of the club stood a man who was vaguely familiar. She remembered him as sitting at Ken's regular table - for a man who claimed he hated music, Ken was sure good at faking it to get what he wanted - but somehow she knew him from somewhere else too.

Whomever he was, he seemed excited, darting forward like a humming bird to a flower.
Grasping her hand. "Do you know what you are?"

Too drained from flushing all her anger and sorrow through her singing, Emily replied, "As of that last set - unemployed."

"Good." The man said, holding her remarkably tiny hand in both of his larger ones. "That means you're free to be mine."

Feeling a touch nervous now, Emily futilely tried to remove her entrapped hand. "Look, Mr -
whomever you are - I just got out of one bad relationship...."

"Oh - Oh no!" The man laughed. "I don't mean that way!" When he smiled his blue eyes twinkled with boyish glee. There was something charming, sweet, and at the same time heart stopping about that smile. "I probably should start with my name, which is much more recognizable then my face. I'm Daniel Gillain."

The name sent thrills of shock and awe through Emily's entire body. She had, after all, just sang a Gillain original tonight. How many times since she first discovered her love for music had she fantasized about someone like Daniel Gillain or Sir Andrew Lloyd Webber hearing her, liking her? And it finally happened.

"I see you get it now." He said, now grabbing her other hand, he could feel her shaking and she looked ready to faint from shock. "I want you - your voice. You, you will bring back everything good and magical about music. Through you I shall work miracles. I'm going to work with you until your voice has reached levels you only dreamed about and I'm going to write songs for you,
and when you sing them angels and devils will weep. The stone gargoyles themselves will sob from the beauty."

Emily knew she shouldn't be swept in. After all, Ken had pulled many lines not unlike that.
However Ken hadn't made it clear that he wanted to use her. It was obvious that in his way,
Daniel Gillain did want to use her - but only for her voice, for a shared passion - not so he could dress up in her clothes.

"Alright." Emily said. "But how does this figure in with my being unemployed?"

Daniel thought about this for only a second. "From now on, you work for me."

"Again, and this time try to not over think it." Daniel said. "And stop that."

"Stop what?" Emily asked, a confused look on her face.

"Mentally beating yourself up." Closing the piano lid, he stood and walked over to her, stepping behind her. Placing his hands on her shoulders he began to massage them. "Now look," he said directly into her ear, "you don't need to impress me, you've already done that. Your voice knows where to go, you have to trust it, trust in yourself." Under his fingers he felt her tension ease, but only slightly. "Come over to the couch. We're going to get nowhere if you insist on being so uptight."

After placing her upon the couch and making her take her shoes and socks off, Daniel went and retrieved a bottle of wine and two glasses.

"Oh," Emily said, suddenly nervous again, "no thanks. I get drunk way too easily. One glass is enough to cause me to make an idiot out of myself."

"Good." Removing the cork, he poured two glasses. "Of course you're suppose to let it breath,
blah blah blah, but to me it still tastes the same." He sat down next to her and watched her sit up really straight, growing stiffer. "Relax."

Taking a sip so tiny it wouldn't have quenched an ant's thirst, Emily quickly put her glass to the side. Reaching over her, Daniel grabbed it up and put it back in her hand. Then guided it to her mouth and wouldn't let it be until she took a bigger - though not by much - sip.

"Now of course you know not to drink any alcohol before singing." Daniel said, sipping his own wine before reaching behind Emily and massaging her neck. "But I think you're not going to relax around me until we get to know each other as people before we're teacher and student. So you'll start. Tell me about this bad relationship you got out of."

There was something magical about Daniel's fingers, Emily decided, something that was more intoxicating then wine. Before long the entire story had tumbled off her lips. How Ken had picked her up right in front of her parents. How her mother told her not to trust him, but she hadn't listened. At 29, living at home, Emily had felt like a total loser. Ken had made her feel like a winner. Like a success. He basically swept her off her feet and away to New York, getting her the singing job at his uncle's club. Then she started to notice that her clothing in disarray,
moved around, or gone all together. Ken started buying her things that would suit him more then her had he been a woman. Then he proposed - though it was more of a steamrollering. He had never paid attention to Emily's "No" and "No fucking way." Shoving the ring on her finger. The speech afterwards.

"He wanted to take away the one thing that made life worth living for me." Emily hadn't even noticed that she was halfway through her second glass now. All she knew was that Daniel had gotten her to put her feet in his lap and he was massaging them. She was feeling dizzy and silly.
"So I dumped him, then I got fired. I should've listened to mom."

"Normally I'd agree with you." Daniel said, teasing for a moment and tickling rather then rubbing, watching Emily squeal wildly and try to pull away. Then he went back to the massage.
"But if you had, then I never would've heard you sing and you wouldn't be here. So really, it's a good thing you didn't listen to your mother."

Chuckling, Emily finished off the second glass and put it down. Her eyes were glazed over and her face flushed. It was obvious that she was quite drunk. Just like she had said, she just had no head for alcohol. Relaxed was an understatement for her now. In fact, she felt very sleepy.

Slipping out from under her feet, Daniel got up and cleared away the glasses. Then he brought a large bottle of water and a bottle of sublingual b-vitamins. "Here, this'll help prevent the hangover."

Forcing herself to sit up, Emily nearly fell over, giggling, she took the bottle of vitamins first,
but then handed it back because it was still sealed and she couldn't open it. Daniel took care of that and shook two out, handing them to her. She nearly dropped them but managed to get them under her tongue. Then she sipped on the water.

"Next time," she slurred, "it's your turn to get drunk."

"Deal." He replied and sat down next to her again. "So shall I tell you my life story now? Or do you think you'll even remember it?"

"Go for it, stud." Emily said before swigging some water, some running down her chin. "If I don't remember you can always tell me again."

"You weren't lying when you said you get drunk easily." Daniel decided to take a bit of a childish approach to this and laid himself down, his head now in Emily's lap. Maybe by acting like this he could get her to relax more in the future. He had to admit, her - extra padding - made it a comfortable place to rest. "Well, I was born and raised in Brooklyn." He began.

From there he weaved his tale. The story of a young, awkward boy with too much nose and too little muscle. The boy's father was a mix of Irish Catholic and Jewish, raised the former, but in all reality an atheist. The boy's mother born to Russian Jewish immigrants. Who married the father in rebellion. The father was a drunken lout. The mother a musical genius who never got a chance to bloom because she married too soon. The boy remembered the knock down, drag out fights. Tending to his mother's injuries. Both of them cleaning up the father when he had drunk too much - which was almost every night.

Why the mom didn't just leave the boy didn't understand. Maybe she didn't want her mom saying "I told you so." Or maybe it was because it was a different time and people found this perfectly acceptable. Eventually though the father did something unforgivable and gave his seven year old son a black eye. The mother took herself and the boy to the grandparents.

After that life was hard money wise, but happy. The boy was given an accordion as a Bar Mitzvah gift and he learned to play. From there he started learning to play the piano. Then he was composing simple little songs. The boy grew into a man. Shy and fumbling at first. Not great at or into sports, artistically creative, people stereotyped him as homosexual. He even gotten beaten up more then once because of it. But the thing was, he was not gay. Had anyone ever bothered to find out, they'd find a man who loved women. Even got married to one once,
but it ended after a year when he realized that they were just too different and he had only married her for her looks.

He started out writing commercial jingles. In his spare time writing a musical based on an original idea of his. When it was done a friend with a very off Broadway theatre put it on. It was his first hit.

From there life was a series of major ups and major downs. Love affairs with female musicians and singers that never worked out. A brief, regretted foray into drugs. Accusations of fatherhood that always turned out to be wrong or flat out lies - and the surprise of bitter disappointment each time.

Then the past few years in which he felt music, real music was dying. To be replaced with tone deaf whores and computer altered voices. Until he walked into a club and heard a voice that he believed could bring back real music. Her voice. Her passion.

"I just have to smooth off the rough edges. Teach you how to hold back on the emotion just enough to tease the audience. Make them think you're about to give them everything of yourself but hold it off until the end. Work the crowd."

By now Emily was much more sober. Though not entirely so. She had cried at some parts of his story, laughed at others, he had a magical way of telling a tale that made the listener feel like they were part of it.

Emily got up and went to the bathroom, then cleaned herself up a bit before teetering back to the couch and falling back upon it. When she did this her hand slipped behind the cushion. She grunted and pulled out a teddy bear. It was a small, white bear, just plain cotton, no fur.
However he did have a rainbow colored coat, a tiny prayer shawl with a blue Star Of David on both ends, and a little black yarmulka on his head. A fan of stuffed animals to begin with, Emily cooed over the little bear.

"Oh he's adorable!" She said. "How'd you get stuck behind the cushion, little guy?"

Daniel shook his head, though he found Emily's cooing a bit sweet. "I put him there."

"You did? Whatever for?"

"Because I hate him!" He said, laughing. "He was a gift from a friend who tries so damn hard to look like she's not racist, homophobic, or anti-Semitic, she comes off looking exactly like all those things. It's amusing in a way, but also annoying."

"Well, I think he's just the sweetest thing I ever saw." She giggled. "I think I'm in love."

"Then keep him. Please." Daniel said, still chuckling. "I don't even keep a kosher household anymore. I don't have any idea where I put the prayer shawl my grandmother made me. It's somewhere in this place."

"Don't you believe?"

Daniel thought about it. "I do - but I'm not sure what I believe in. I do feel there is defiantly a God. Something bigger then man. To me, music is a miracle that was created by a higher power and given to man as a gift. The whole religion issue though - I'm not sure. What about you?"

Emily shrugged. "I'm kind of like you. I mean, I was raised to believe in God, Jesus, all that, but so much of it is self contradictory, and some is downright mean. I'm sure there's a God, I'm not sure that He - or She - really approves of religion." She hugged her bear, it disappeared in her cleavage for a bit. "But I'm sure God would approve of something this adorable. Look at that sweet little face." She checked the tag for a name but found none. "You need a name - I dub thee - Herschel." At Daniel's raised eyebrows she said, "I worked in a library for awhile and we had a bunch of books about a man named Herschel. Herschel of - something I can't pronounce, it began with an O though."

"I remember those stories. My grandfather use to tell me them. My favorite was the one where he tricked his miser of an uncle into doing a good deed."

"Where he says that the uncle's silver candle sticks died! Oh that one is the best."

Once Emily was completely sober, he took her back over to the piano. This time she was a lot more relaxed. Though the wine had made her voice temporarily rough. Once she was fully rehydrated she would sound much better. All that really mattered though was that she was no longer trying to impress him.

When she went home, the teddy bear Herschel in tow, Daniel grinned a big, goofy, boyish grin.
There was nothing like the euphoria that followed listening to good music. Even sex wasn't as heady. Intoxicated on the sound of Emily's voice, he sat down at the piano and began to compose.

The two soon settled into a routine that never seemed boring. Emily would come by in the afternoon. They would work for a couple of hours, then have a light dinner, followed by a walk.
She'd return to his penthouse where she now had use of an extra room. After a few more hours going through various songs he was arranging or composing, she'd bathe and change into her performance clothing. He had gotten her a late shift singing job at a friend's club. If anything needed cleaning she'd drop it of at the same dry cleaners Daniel sent his suits. That way she could pick it up on her way to his place.

Two comfortable months passed this way. Then one night at the club Ken showed up, his shallow friends in tow. They took a table at the front near the stage and as soon as Emily came out, they began to boo and catcall. Making comments about how they hoped the stage wouldn't collapse.

Ignoring them, Emily sang. They grew louder. People tried to shush them, the staff tried to eject them, but they threatened lawsuits. The police had been called but they were handling a big tour bus accident and it would be awhile before any could get there.

Daniel arrived with his date during all this. His date was more his type of woman, dark haired and slender, closer to his own age. She was a former model turned lawyer who specialized in copyright law.

"Oh what awful men." She exclaimed.

Daniel's eyes turned dark and he excused himself, walking over to Ken and his group. Though Ken was far younger and stronger, Daniel didn't care. "Would you shut up and let Emily sing,
you bitter cretin?"

Only now did Emily stop singing. In fact everything stopped as Ken and his group stood up. Ken only topped Daniel by an inch, but his friends were all close to six feet tall or taller.

"Oh look, everyone." Ken snorted, recognizing Daniel from some party his parents had forced him to go to a few years back to find a "suitable mate", "Emily's found herself a Jew boy faggot to defend her."

Emily snarled. "Shut up, Ken." He had never spoken like this during their relationship, he knew she hated bigotry.

"Shut up yourself, you fat, ugly, tone deaf bitch." Ken snarled right back.

Daniel could take the insults to himself, he heard worse and much more creative. He could not,
however, take the insults to Emily. Grabbing the pocket of Ken's pants, he pulled down hard.
The pocket and half the pants ripped away, exposing that underneath Ken was wearing silk women's panties trimmed in delicate lace. Even his own friends gasped in shock. Ken's face turned bright red as he realized he was busted.

Then a woman called out, "I've got a pair just like that, only in powder blue."

That started everyone laughing. Even a few men dressed as women. Not so much at the fact that Ken was wearing women's undies, but because the hypocritical bigot had been exposed. Too embarrassed to threaten a lawsuit now, Ken gathered up his torn pants and rushed out of the club. His friends sheepishly paying their bill. After a minute one turned to Emily and apologized,
saying that Ken had talked them into this claiming she had been cheating on him and gave him a STD. Then they left.

Daniel's date came over and hugged and kissed him passionately, exclaiming he was a hero.
Somehow Daniel felt awkward having this woman do this right in front of Emily.

And for some reason, jealousy curled in Emily's gut.

Forcing it to stay there and not show, Emily pasted on a smile and said, "Chivalry is not dead,
folks. Thanks, Daniel, for slaying my dragon."

Then, channeling her jealousy, she began to sing again. A rather angry sounding version of Cry Me A River. It was very effective. Yet for the first time ever, Emily still felt the emotions she had been trying to purge through her music.

And Daniel decided this would be the last time he'd go out on a date with the lawyer.

The next couple of weeks things were a tiny bit strained, but once the music started going they would both relax and return to their normal relationship.

Emily was strong in ballads and opera-like numbers, but weak in faster things. So Daniel started working her harder on those. Setting aside those she did best for the album he wanted her to make. There was still work to do, however, before she was ready.

Three weeks after the club incident, Daniel appeared again in time for her last performance of the night. When she was through he decided to escort her home as she had revealed to him that Ken had made several threatening phone calls.

On the way Daniel pointed out places he remembered from his childhood. Corners he had stood on with friends, singing silly versions of classical songs that he re-wrote. Places that no longer existed that he had worked at when going to college.

When they got to her building, however, there were police cars outside, and Ken in one of them.
Emily turned pale. It was only when Daniel put a hand on her back that she was able to move again. Drawing strength from him.

The police took them up to her apartment. Ken had broken in and spray painted it with all sorts of slogans. He had ripped up the majority of her underwear, especially her white cotton "granny panties" that she preferred to wear. Some of her favorite books and her sheet music was also destroyed.

What really stung though, that caused her to start sobbing hysterically, was a pile of grey ashes.
It finally took Daniel resorting to firmly smacking her across the face - how it pained him to do it - before she finally snapped out of it to reveal that the ashes were the cremated remains of her beloved dog. Now Daniel could see that amongst the ashes was ripped up pieces of pictures, all containing the image of a cocker spaniel.

Not even letting Emily take clothing with her, just Herschel, the only thing Ken hadn't damaged,
Daniel ushered her out. The police would finish their investigation and gathering of evidence.
Daniel was already calling people who could help put the place to rights. Particularly someone who could make sure all the remains would be returned to their urn, and this time sealed up so they could not be spilled again.

Emily he took to his penthouse, with a stop at a friend's clothing store to get her a nightgown,
underwear, and clothing for the next day. He'd buy her more tomorrow. Emily moved like a wooden puppet. Not even protesting the buying of clothing though she always had before, as it reminded her too much of Ken. And when she tumbled into bed, it was only after Daniel plied her with brandy. Half a glass, however, was more then enough to get her snoring.

Daniel sat at the piano, sipping his own brandy. Fingers running over the keys lightly,
mindlessly. Examining his feelings. He had been upset at Ken's abuse of Emily the other night,
embarrassed when his date kissed him in front of her, and now he felt angry and fiercely protective of Emily. If Ken hadn't been locked in the car, would he have done a lot worse then expose Ken's underwear choices for all the world to see?

The biggest question was - why? Why did he care so much? Was it just because of her voice? Or something more? The way she made him laugh with a silly comment. Her obvious longing to be absolutely perfect when singing. The way her eyes shined when she sang, or when he touched her.

Good Lord, was he falling in love with her? No. He couldn't be. She wasn't his type! She was half his age to start with. Her physical appearance was not appealing. She could be childish and stubborn. Sometimes she was a downright slob.

Yet when he peaked in at her later, finding her cuddling with the little teddy bear, his heart melted inside his chest. It was all he could do not to walk over and take her in his arms, kiss the tears that still seeped from her eyes in her sleep away. Make love to her.

Love. Not sex. He wanted to make love. It was the first time he had even thought of it that way.

He closed the door and pressed his forehead to it. Wrestling with his feelings. Then, he decided it was time to take a nice, cold shower.

A week long one.

A week turned into a month. Daniel just found he couldn't let Emily go. He kept finding excuses to get her to stay another night, and another night. Soon he just gave up all pretenses and moved her in. She wasn't anxious to go back to her apartment anyway.

He started to learn more about her now. She was a reader, for instance. A rabid one. She had Harry Potter - the British editions - Artemis Fowl - also British published, Lord Of The Rings,
The Chronicles Of Narnia. She had Sherlock Holmes, The Phantom Of The Opera - even an out of print Sherlock Homes/Phantom cross over called The Angel Of The Opera. She had Dracula,
The Hunchback Of Norte Dame, Les Miserables. There was Shakespeare and Stephen King,
Anne Rice, Fred Saberhagen. And there was lots of romance novels. Some that involved vampires, some with men hideously scarred. There was a whole series of romance books by one particular author, one Karen Marie Moning, who seemed to specialize in stories about fairies,
Scottish Highlanders, and time traveling druids.

In fact, when she wasn't singing or playing around the internet, she was reading. He often found her curled up on his couch with a book. Sometimes so absorbed in it that he couldn't even get a response out of her. In a way it was a bit frustrating. He felt like he could dance naked in front of her and she wouldn't even notice.

One night on her night off, he went out with friends. When he returned he was drunk. He hadn't drank like that since his heart attack, but he couldn't help it. All he could think about was Emily,
curled up on his couch, her nose in a romance novel, face flushed as she read a steamy sex scene.

He wanted to make her face flush like that. Nibble her plump neck, kiss that tiny nose, tickle her feet and watch her squirm like she did that first day. He wanted her beneath him, singing out his name.

So when he came back and found her still curled up reading, he walked over and tugged the book out of her hands. Considerate enough to put her bookmark in place before sitting down on the couch and slowly laying himself down on top of her.

"You always," he said, grabbing her hands and kissing them before pinning them above her head, "have your cute button nose stuck in a book." With that he kissed said nose. "I know better places you can stick it."

Emily was shocked, but found herself unable to resist - she didn't want to resist. "Daniel Gillain,
you're drunk." She said, shocking herself when she heard a giggle in her own voice. He was nibbling along the right side of her throat, she moaned. If confronted she would've admitted she had wanted this for a long time. She had a huge crush on Daniel. She didn't think it was love,
but she was sure it was a crush.

Daniel kept her arms above her head with one hand while moving the other down to roughly palm her breast as he kissed her. Working at it until he could feel her nipple grow hard even through her shirt and bra. Then, he moved it a bit and wiggled his fingers in her ribs. She laughed and squirmed as he tickled her, and he moaned deeply as her squirming nearly brought him to the edge.

Eventually, however, even as he suckled her nipples through her clothing, making her gasp, he suddenly stopped. Soft snores coming from him.

Daniel was so fucking drunk he had fallen asleep!

Thin as he was, he was surprisingly heavy. Emily managed, finally, to slip out from under him.
She got him arranged comfortably on the couch, taking off his shoes, socks, and belt. Making sure his shirt wasn't buttoned too high. Then she got a blanket from his bed and covered him up.
Finishing it up by placing on the coffee table two big bottles of water, the b-vitamins, and a bottle of painkillers.

She checked him through the night. Knowing about his heart problems, she wasn't going to take any chances. When he got up to throw up and use the bathroom, she helped him in there. He was still drunk, but couldn't remember what he had been doing earlier. Then she took him back to the couch as it was easier for her to deal with him there then his room. Here she could sit him up and force him to drink water and take the b-vitamins. Wearing nothing but boxer shorts now. He looked older, more human then he did while dressed in his suits. And it was all she could do not to start kissing his chest and remind him of his rough attempts at drunken seduction.

Come morning he was hung over and she sleep deprived. They both decided to skip lessons that day. He couldn't remember a thing from the night before. He did notice bruises on Emily's neck that reminded him of hickeys. Jealousy reared up in his chest but he refused to ask her where she had been. She seemed so sad about something he didn't want to start a fight with her.

As for Emily, she felt sick. Last night she had been totally prepared to take advantage of Daniel's drunken state. Now today he only seemed to glare at her. Maybe he did remember and was just totally disgusted with himself? Oh she was an idiot to think that a man who had and still could date super models would want a big old fat, ugly, stupid cow like herself! He had been drunk and probably too horny to care what he poked so long as he poked something warm and female.

She had to face facts, Daniel would never want her. Ever. All he cared about was her singing.
Maybe it was time to find another place to live.

And yet she really didn't want to. Even if she couldn't have him, at least she could be near him and have his music.

That night and Emily's "bruises" was not mentioned in the passing time as New York fall turned to New York winter. Emily's first winter in New York, in fact. Daniel was shocked when she came out of her room, wearing a light weight jacket that might've kept her warm in a California winter, but not in NYC. He dragged her out to the nearest shop and bought her a long, warm winter coat as well as some proper winter clothing.

They were getting close to being perfect enough to record her first album. Daniel wanted it completely polished before she went into the studio. It was important that not one note or breath needed massive computer alteration. If his muse was to bring the music back into music, he needed her to be a goddess behind the microphone.

At the same time, Daniel didn't want to give her to the world at all. He selfishly wanted to keep her all to himself. Keep her in his penthouse, a Christine Daae to his Erik. To go walking on Sundays while he wore a mask to make himself look completely normal. To spend their nights singing together.

He wondered how he could tell her how he felt. If he should. She didn't want to marry, ever, she had said that. She feared she put so much of her heart into her music, she had no room to love anyone the way they deserved. The music would always come first with her. The way it had always come first with him.

The first week of December, he received a phone call that caused him to groan. He looked up at Emily who was standing by the piano, flipping through a book of sheet music.

"Remember that friend - the one that gave me that damnable bear? Well, she's throwing her annual winter holiday party." He shook his head. "Every year she throws this party that's suppose to incorporate all holidays that fall in December, making a mish-mash of them that's more insulting then if she just threw a regular Christmas party. And of course as usual she wants me to sing The Driedel Song."

"So don't." Emily said, shrugging, "Pretend you're going to, then get up there and sing a song about the miracle of Hanukkah and the oil. If there isn't one, compose a simple one."

"And what will you be singing?" He walked over to the piano, meaning to sit at it, but instead found himself leaning against it, looking at her.

"What do you mean? I wasn't invited and I'm sure your date won't want me tagging along"
There was a slight note of bitter jealousy in her voice. This caused Daniel's heart to soar.

Moving now, he placed his hands on either side of her, pinning her against the piano. "You are my date." He leaned in and kissed her.

Emily was shocked and thought she was dreaming. However when she put her hands on his waist she knew it was real. He tangled his hands in her hair and pulled her head back a bit so her mouth was more open to him.

When did he decide to do this? When he heard the jealousy in her voice? When she looked at him? No, it was when he opened the newspaper a second ago and saw she had been circling apartment listings. She was planning on moving out! Well, he wasn't going to let her. He kissed her, branding her as his. Not only did she not resist, she responded back with the same passion she put into her singing.

It had never been like this. Emily's first boyfriend had only liked to take her from behind, caring about his own pleasure and not her's. Ken had been cold and passionless. Doing it only in the dark as if he was unable to look at her. Daniel started stripping her right there at the piano.
Whispering heated words into her ear.

"I want to make love to you on every surface in this place so you can't look at anything without thinking of me and getting hot and bothered." He nibbled her jaw line before returning to her ear. "I want to bind you with silk scarves like in those books you read and make love with you with my tongue until you plead for me to stop, and I won't."

He didn't care about the fact her breasts sagged. He didn't care about the belly, or her stretch marks. He found every part of her lovely. He could manipulate her breasts so he could suck both nipples at once, for instance. And Emily was almost obsessive with keeping her body clean and nice smelling.

Their first love making session was right there at the piano. He held his own needs back, but saw to her's. Then he led her into the bedroom.

Emily had seen the bedroom before, peeking in when the cleaning service came by. The majority of the room was simple, understated. However the bed was huge. A giant four poster bed, the posts carved with musical notations. It was both inviting and threatening at the same time. It sat on a raised dias. On each post was what Daniel had talked about, long silk scarves. Each with a loop that could easily be placed about a wrist or ankle.

It was this bed Daniel laid her upon. Tying her to it. Then he finally removed his own clothing.
And Emily didn't care how thin he was, or that once undressed he looked older then he looked while dressed. To her he was the most handsome man in the entire world.

He did to her everything he had said. When he finally entered her it was earth shattering.

The best part though was when he held her afterwards and whispered in her ear, "I love you,
Emily. I don't know when or how I fell in love with you, but I did."

For the first time, Emily felt it, she felt real, true love. She knew it because without even thinking about it, she said, "I love you too, Daniel. I love you more then music."

At that very moment, Daniel Gillain was the happiest man in the entire universe.

The day of the party arrived. It had been decided that Daniel would sing an original composition about the miracle of Hanukkah just like Emily suggested. While she would do O Holy Night.
Songs sure to offend their overly sensitive hostess.

Emily wore one of her performance outfits, a blouse and skirt combo in a dark purple color. It was sure to stand out amongst a sea of boring black cocktail dresses. Daniel had presented her with a long gold chain with a small crucifix pendant. Admittedly more to shock their hostess then anything. Her real gift would be a strand of pearls, but that would be held off until Christmas.

After he placed it around her neck, she turned around and held out a box to him, decorated in blue and white. "So you can shock her too."

When he opened it, he found inside a yarmulka, like Herschel the bear's, but bigger of course.
Under it though was something that struck him speechless. It was the prayer shawl he thought he lost. It had been laundered and an old rip he remembered causing skillfully mended.

"Wh - Where did you find this?" He said, holding it in his hands like if it was the most delicate,
precious thing in the world.

"Under your bed." Emily said.

"Our bed," he corrected.

"Our bed. I found it when looking for that nightgown you insisted on kicking under there."

"Well, that nightgown is utterly hideous." He chuckled, tears in his eyes. Then he put on the shawl and cupped Emily's face in his hands. "Thank you," he whispered before kissing her. "It's the most wonderful, thoughtful thing anyone's ever done for me."

He was still beaming when they entered the party. Amber, the hostess, was in a state of utter shock and kept sputtering that either of them were wearing religious "gear". She was even more shocked though because Daniel was dating someone so - so fat! There was a bevy of slender babes who wanted to hang onto his arm, and yet he was with that little cow. And here she had invited some of her single friends in hopes to play matchmaker.

Well, it didn't stop Amber. Every chance she got she tried to drag Daniel away and introduce him to her friends. But as soon as he got the chance, he'd escape them and return to Emily's side. A few of the ladies tried going over to him and blatantly put themselves on display. Glaring down their plastic noses at Emily.

Emily won hands down every time.

The entertainment included all sorts of secular songs, most sung by half drunk, off key people.
So when Daniel took the stage most party goers were relieved.

And when he sang most looked to Amber who was utterly shocked. How dare he offend people with a song about religion?! Worse still was when that pig of a girlfriend took the stage and dared to sing about Jesus Christ!

Yet the guests weren't shocked or unhappy. Daniel was a great singer and it was nice to be reminded there was a spiritual reason for the celebration. As for Emily, why her voice was so good it would make angels weep! So all except the rejected women and Amber herself applauded thunderously.

Really, in the end it was only Amber who was offended. However one of the women Daniel had turned away got so incredibly drunk she started to cause a scene.

"I don't see why he's with that big, fat, ugly sack of shit." The woman declared, making sure she looked right at Emily. "Tone deaf hog. She's so fat I bet he can't even find her vagina. Probably fucks her in the belly button instead!"

She went on like this for awhile. Some people tried to hush her, others insisted Amber remove her, but Amber was too pissed off at Daniel bringing religion to her party. So it was Daniel who decided they would leave.

But it was Emily who went over to the drunken bitch and dumped a cup of eggnog on her dress.

"I may be a fat cow, I'll give you that, but I'm not tone deaf and at least I'm not a brain dead boring whore who tries to steal another woman's man. Grow up, you little twit."

The woman tried to attack Emily, but she simply stepped out of the way. The drunken one went sprawling, and people applauded. Especially when Emily - careful to not apply her full weight of course, but just enough to push the woman's head down into the sodden carpet, stepped on the back of her head.

Meanwhile a man, tall and balding, had stepped next to Daniel. "She's a dynamo, Danny." He said. "And that voice! Where have you been hiding her? Nevermind - the real question is, when will you bring her down to the studio?"

For a moment Daniel didn't know what to say. He hadn't even thought about the record in awhile. Rather he had thought about a very different future with Emily by his side. If she made a record it would mean touring. First in small clubs, then bigger venues. He might not see her for weeks at a time. He was already getting close to 60, with a heart problem, was he willing to risk what little time they might have together?

Yet when she came over and Mel began to talk to her about a recording contract, about making her a star, her eyes shined and danced. Not the way they looked when she looked at him, but in a different way. How could he deny her something she wanted so badly just to keep her by his side? It was wrong, selfish.

"We have the songs picked out," Daniel said, even as he spotted Amber making a bee-line for them to kick them out. "And well rehearsed. Call me. We need to go." He rushed her out of there before Amber could reach them. Chuckling. "Thank you, I'll never be invited to one of her functions again." Daniel smiled. "You were wonderful, a lot of people said it was great that we were so brave to defy her."

Emily smiled back, "There were an awful lot of jealous women in there, a few jealous men too."

"Of course there were jealous men. Because I had you and they didn't."

"I meant they were jealous of me having you, silly." Emily stood on tiptoe as the elevator made it's way down and kissed the tip of his nose. "You're considered a sex god, you know."

"Mmm - good thing I finally found my goddess." With that Daniel kissed a lot more then Emily's nose. When the elevator finally got to the bottom, there was much rearranging of clothing and flushed faces.

It was hard to figure out a way to top finding the prayer shawl his grandmother made him. What did one get for the man who could have anything he wanted?

Now Emily had never had many female friends, but after the party she was suddenly bombarded with requests for lunches and shopping expeditions with the wives of many of the men there. If it was because they honestly liked her, if they just thought they looked thinner by comparison, or if it was because she had done to the drunken woman what many have been tempted to do to her and women like her, all Emily knew was that suddenly she was popular. She took very few invitations, however, as she had to think about work and the upcoming record.

Some of these women suggested things that Daniel could easily buy himself. Others suggested a form of sex that terrified Emily and Daniel had never expressed interest in anyway. So it wasn't until it was nearly too late that she got the idea. Both of them had come down with bronchitis,
Emily with a milder case because she religiously took her vitamins, herbs, and minerals. She tended to them both with hot mustard plasters and steam. Chicken soup, however, while served,
was out of a can and Daniel whined about this like a baby.

"My grandmother use to make the best chicken soup," he said hoarsely, "with matzah balls so light you thought they'd fly out of the bowl and into outer space."

Being the first to get over the cold, Emily spent her free time taking a crash course in cooking.
Especially chicken soup and matzah balls. Come Christmas Eve - Emily was a crying wreck.
Daniel had gone out to get something, barely over his own illness, in fact he was still coughing.
The soup was perfect, but the matzah balls were sinking. Like little mini, round Titanics.

By carefully following the recipes her teacher had given her, she had made everything else almost perfectly. A few of the potato latkes for instance were a little on the burnt side and some more raw then cooked, but after that she got them just right. It was really just the matzah balls that refused to cooperate. Even though she had followed the recipe to the letter.

When Daniel found her sobbing, out of ingredients, he couldn't help but chuckle and kiss her tears away. "It doesn't matter, puddin' pop." He began to dish up the soup, which was now more matzah sludge then chicken soup, "What matters is you cared enough to try. You just need more practice. Besides," he took a spoonful and forced it down, having to pause and chew it a little,
"it still tastes good. No, no, don't start crying again. I don't need any gift but you."

When he finally calmed her down - mainly by eating a full bowl of "soup" - it really wasn't bad,
it had a good taste and all, it was just the texture was hard to swallow - he took her out to give her one of the two gifts he got her. The pearls would wait until tomorrow, but this gift would have to be given tonight.

A beagle pup sat on the floor. A big bow around her neck. He had meant to get a cocker spaniel,
but the little puppy had looked so sad. He had found her at an animal shelter, her brothers and sisters already gone. People had turned her down because of the fact the puppy was missing her hind leg, it had just never formed, and she was the runt of the litter.

Emily was head over heels in love. One look into those brown eyes and she was gone. She forgot all about her soup disaster as she sat on the floor and allowed the puppy to lap all over her tear stained face.

There was talk of a name. Daniel wanted to give her a non-human one, Emily insisted on a human one. Finally the name Roxy was settled on and Roxy soon grew groggy on a big bowl of the sludgy soup.

"She really should have puppy food," Daniel said as the three of them sat on the couch, watching It's A Wonderful Life.

"It's Christmas Eve," Emily said, "she'll have puppy food for months. How often will she get Emily's Own Matzah Sludge Chicken Soup?"

"Every time I get a cold, I imagine." Daniel teased before going into a brief coughing fit. Roxy stirred for a bit then farted. "Ug!"

"I'll take her out - no, don't you dare." Emily pushed him back down on the couch. "You're not going out again until that cough is gone. Even if I have to tie you to the bed. And remember -
payback's a bitch."

When Emily was gone, Daniel leaned forward and rubbed his chest. Hoping it was heartburn.
Knowing it was not.

"Beautiful, Emily, just beautiful." Mel leaned back in his seat and temporarily cut off sound between the booth and them so they could talk without Emily hearing. "This record is going to make us a lot of money, gentlemen."

"I don't know," said Buddy, Mel's business party, "maybe if we got a sexy young girl to lip-
synch it would. But to put that - that beast on the cover? On stage?"

"Hey, she's got a pretty face. So what if she's got some meat on her bones?" Mel had always been more about talent then looks. After all, he wasn't exactly gifted in that department.
"Besides, Daniel would be royally pissed off at us and Daniel Gillain pissed off is not something I want to see ever again."

Emily sat back, watching the men, though not able to hear them, she knew somehow what they were fighting about. Sipping her water she sighed. It always came back to her weight. Though she tried and tried to lose it, it never seemed to come off. Not enough at least. Not enough to have satisfied mom, who continuously harassed her, even now over the phone she did it.
Defiantly not enough to satisfy a society that only approved of thinness in women.

She wasn't good enough. Not pretty enough to be a singer. Not pretty enough to be Daniel Gillain's girlfriend. Emily's heart ached.

The new year began with the release of the record, tv appearances, singing at various New York venues. Songs were picked and practiced for the next album. To be performed while on tour.
Things were moving fast now and suddenly she and Daniel were only together for singing and sleeping. Sex was almost non-existent now. Their daily walk was gone, instead it was just Daniel and Roxy.

More then that, Emily was pulling away. Suddenly she was laughing less. She grew cold and distant. Pulling away when he tried to get close. Her eyes looked haunted sometimes.

The album was selling well to older people. Rumor was that people like Michael Crawford were interested in doing duets with her. However younger people and the media was always making fun of her weight. Some tone deaf skank on American Idol covered one of Emily's songs, but it was arranged country and western style. Simon Cowell was shown covering his ears and looking sick. The people voted for the talentless twig anyway simply because she was thin. All three judges ranted about this and Cowell actually walked out of the studio, calling American teenagers "Bloody fucking idiots."

Emily just grew more withdrawn. The only time she was her old self was when she was singing.

Ken sold a fantasy version of their brief time together to the tabloids. Emily grew irate and without even asking Daniel's advice, went on tv. Announcing first of all her private life was no one's business. Stating, "I don't do drugs, I don't molest kids, I've never committed a hit and run. Therefore, you people should be ashamed of yourselves." She then cleared them up and told the truth about her miserable time with Ken. Most people believed her, many did not, and almost everyone was offended about her rant about her right to keep her personal life private.

Then the touring began in earnest. Emily grew more distant. There was trouble when she found her guitar player doing drugs with an underage girl. She had him fired and thrown in jail. After that she insisted on random drug tests on everyone working on the tour. They ranted about her acting like a spoiled diva. She responded telling them that if they really loved music then they shouldn't touch drugs.

Daniel joined her on tour when he couldn't stand being away from her a moment longer.
Bringing Roxy with him. Emily's eyes lit up only briefly, but then she over heard someone making fun of her weight again and she withdrew deep inside herself.

They were in Vegas when Daniel came to a decision. He waited until the last night of the tour then the next morning while Emily picked at her breakfast, he pulled a ring box out of his pocket.

The proposal did not get the reaction he wanted. Instead they began to fight when Emily said "No." Daniel tried to stay calm at first, but Emily didn't want to be calm.

"You know I don't believe in marriage!" She shouted.

"You said you loved me! What we have is exactly like a marriage without the rings and paper"
He yelled back at her.

"So why can't we keep it like that? It's working, isn't it?"

"No it's not! You've grown distant, cold."

"And you think marriage will fix that? Damn it, Daniel, I'm working constantly, I'm tired."

"Maybe you're just tired of me!"

"I'm not good enough for you!" She roared suddenly.

There was dead silence. Roxy was cowering in the corner. Daniel rubbed his chest and left arm respectively.

"So that's what it's about?" He whispered. "It's because of what people have been saying.
Emily, I don't give a flying fuck about your weight. I love you. I'd love you even if you were as wide as a cruise ship." He gasped then. Pain shot through him.

"Daniel? Oh God!" Emily ran to the door and shouted. People came running. She shoved Roxy into her drummer's hands. Then she knelt next to Daniel and rolled him onto his back. She couldn't find a pulse or feel him breathing. As someone dialed 911 she began to perform CPR.
Sobbing as she compressed. "Don't die, Daniel, a world without you in it isn't worth living in.
Damn it, Daniel! I love you!"

As many people having CPR performed on them do, at one point Daniel vomited. Emily rolled him on his side until it stopped and cleared out his mouth and throat. Someone tried to hand her latex gloves but she shook her head. Both she and Daniel were allergic to latex.

Then suddenly, Daniel was breathing on his own. Paramedics were arriving. They had to pry Emily from him and Roxy was placed in her arms to keep her from chasing after him. The ring box laid on the floor, the ring had fallen out and been trampled into the vomit pile on the carpet.

Daniel's business manager had never liked Emily. He had always viewed her as a whore looking to use Daniel. Of course, if confronted, Leonard would admit he was just jealous. For years he had harbored a secret love for Daniel. He was everything Leon wanted. Tender, sensitive,
artistic, funny.

And sadly, despite what ignorant people thought, Daniel was also completely, undeniably straight. Leon would never stand a chance.

It didn't stop him from standing in front of Daniel's hospital door and deny Emily entrance. He may never have Daniel the way he longed for, but he could keep the woman who owned Daniel's heart away.

Daniel could hear every word. Emily demanding to be allowed to see him. Leonard calling her names. Saying Daniel didn't want to see her. That it was over.

Daniel tried to call out, say it wasn't true, but there were tubes in his throat. He couldn't do anything more then grunt. And write down four words for Leon when he came back in.

"You bastard. You're fired."

The press tried to follow Emily at first. Find out why she had moved back to California, why she canceled the rest of her tour, the second album, and took a job as a janitor of all things. Her only answer was that the music had no meaning anymore.

It didn't for Daniel either. When he entered the penthouse to find Emily's things gone, only Roxy left behind with a note from Emily that she couldn't be trusted with things she loved, he was suddenly deaf to music.

Then one day a phone call came. It was Emily's mother.

"You get your old, skinny ass out to California and get my daughter back." She demanded before hanging up.

"Hey, Roxy, how'd you like to go see mommy?" Daniel asked the beagle. When Roxy responded by jumping up on the now dusty piano bench, throwing back her head, and howling, Daniel knew that was a yes.

Emily's mom looked a lot like Emily, only slightly thinner - though not by much - several inches shorter, and of course much older. She was only a few years older then Daniel, however. Which made him feel a little creepy since they were sitting across from each other, talking about his relationship with her daughter.

"Emily's father doesn't approve of this," Lisa was saying. "But Ed has never understood love very well." She sipped her tea before continuing. "All I know is my little girl won't sing anymore. She can't smile. There's no light in her eyes. At night she lays in her bed, hugging that teddy bear, crying."

"I miss her too. I wanted - still want to - marry her." He sighed. "My pride says to not beg. My heart says grovel. Having your blessing does help."

"I won't lie, Daniel, you're not what I would've chosen for Emily." Setting her tea down, Lisa looked him straight in the eye. "You're age is the biggest factor against you. However, when Emily was with you she was happy. Something our little girl rarely is except when she's singing - and since she can't sing without you...." Lisa pulled something out of her purse and pushed it towards Daniel. It was the ring box, containing the ring he had proposed with. "One thing Emily's always dreamed about is being serenaded."

"I think I could manage that."

Mel called daily. He was the only one not threatening a lawsuit for broken contracts. Of course,
he was the only one who understood. Which was why he was trying to help. He arranged for the apartment, the job, and distracting the press.

He also arranged for the band to be there when Daniel showed up under Emily's window - and even a small upright piano. Daniel chuckled and handed Roxy off to Emily's poor put upon landlord.

Emily was laying upon her bed, cuddling with Herschel who was now quite worn and tear stained. She should've been at work, but her boss called to tell her that the building was closed due to a bomb scare. So she just laid there on her bed, hugging her teddy bear, thinking of Daniel. She swore she could even hear him singing.

Then she realized she could hear him singing. Running to her window, she looked out. There,
blocking one of the apartment building's sidewalks, was Daniel and the entire band. Part of her,
the part that had believed Leonard when he said Daniel didn't want to see her ever again, the part that still insisted that she wasn't good enough for him, wanted to slam the window and ignore it.

She told that part of her to shut the fuck up.

Unlike New York, fire escapes were not on all apartment buildings in California. Of course most apartments in Orange County were rarely higher then three stories. Emily was on the second. So she waited until the song was done and motioned for Daniel to wait. Then, without even realizing how awful she looked from all her crying and moping about, she rushed out and down.
Straight into Daniel's arms.

Music came alive in both their hearts again. More then that, for the first time in months, they both felt that they were home.

"No more fights." Daniel said. "I still want to marry you, but if you would rather live together,
we can do that too."

"Oh we're getting married. No way am I going to be that stupid ever again." She kissed the tip of his nose. "Now where's my dog?"

Roxy was ecstatic. They were a family again! The three legged pup, pretty much a full grown dog now though she'd never get very large, frisked about their feet then insisted on them coming down for kisses.

"You have to tour with me," Emily declared. "Both of you. I won't put up with being separated anymore. And if your doctor says you can't tour with me, well, then I'll just sing in New York exclusively."

"Agreed," Daniel replied, kissing the tip of her nose now. "And no more thinking you're not good enough for me." Then, leaning in close to whisper, he said, "You know, my doctor suggested I get plenty of exercise...."

Emily blushed because so many people were staring. Then she took Roxy's leash, then Daniel's hand. "If you'll excuse us, folks, we need some private time." Softer, she said, "You know I don't have any....."

"Neither do I. Are you willing to risk it?"

"For you? Yes. But if I get pregnant and it's a boy, I hope he has your nose."

"God forbid!"

"I love your nose. You wouldn't be you without it."

"Just get in the apartment, oh fiancé of mine." Daniel said, lightly slapping her butt. "We have catching up to do."

"Is this the wrong time to say I want a Star Trek themed wedding?"

The End