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Roz felt a little bad accepting Daphne’s offer to come in for a bit, given that Daphne was in a bathrobe looking more ready for bed than company no matter what she said. But on the other hand she also wasn’t in a rush to get home to her babysitter two hours ahead of schedule. Alice was already asleep, which meant the only thing she would gain from going home right now was the judgemental gaze of the babysitter who would know her date had been a dud. And Daphne offering her a little massage as she sat down on the couch was the highlight of her evening.
Niles, also wearing a robe, came in from the kitchen to join them. He greeted Roz as he moved behind the couch towards Daphne.
“Poor thing had a bad date,” Daphne told him as Roz relaxed into the way she was working the tension out of her neck.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Niles said from a little ways behind her. “Well now that Daphne is helping you relax, do you want to join us in a little mélange?”
Daphne’s hands were still on her neck, warm and firm, but the tension Daphne had worked out of her muscles came roaring back in a new and perplexing format in the long seconds that followed what Niles had offered her.
Through her shock she managed to ask, “What?”
She never, not in a million billion years, would have expected that kind of invitation from Niles and Daphne.
Neither of them were the type. Or exactly her type for that matter. Which was admittedly a broad category. But still. Niles was always such an unbearable snob, obnoxious and fussy. He’d mellowed a bit since she’d known him, most notably since he got together with Daphne, but he was still well outside the type of men she went for. Not her type. End of story. And Daphne, well. Roz was definitely bi enough to have thought about it, once upon a time when Daphne casually dropped the information that she had dated a woman or two in her time. Roz generally preferred men (a tragic truth) but women weren’t off the table. Not by a long shot. And if she had to choose between the two of them, she’d pick Daphne. But she didn’t have to choose between them. That was the whole point. The invite was for both of them. Together. Tonight.
Her personal experience with such things was limited, by her definition, which she assumed was expansive compared to the other two people in the room (though the fact that they had brought it up at all meant her assumptions needed some adjusting). There was that stretch in college where both she and one of the guys she was seeing were both also seeing other people and one night Todd introduced her to one of the guys he was dating. Sven. One thing led to another and all three of them ended up dating off and on for a month or so. And by dating she meant having sex. Lots of sex.
There were a few more college misadventures that were hardly worth mentioning. And that time she fucked a couple while she was on vacation. She had spent a few days playfully flirting with them by the pool and then one evening they invited her to join them. And they were hot and they asked her and she’d never see them again so what the hell.
She saw Niles and Daphne all the time. At least once a week. At least! If it was awful and awkward she wouldn’t be able to escape from it, even if she wanted to. And if it was good? Then the three of them would have to walk around for the rest of their lives knowing that was a thing they had all done. So there was no way. No way at all. She was stunned they’d even brought it up—
And then Niles handed her a bowl of fruit salad and the world made sense again.
Of course they weren’t asking her that. This was Niles and Daphne. She laughed at the absurdity of it all and how mundane the actual offer was: Fruit Salad.
That sounded more like Niles and Daphne.
Roz laughed, and then laughed harder when Daphne asked what was so funny.
“I thought—” Roz paused to steady her giggles because imagine. IMAGINE. Niles and Daphne of all people. ”I thought you said ménage.”
And then all three of them were laughing. Because it was funny. It was the funniest thing that had happened to her in weeks.
“Well the fruits do mix a little promiscuously,” Niles joked.
“I was thinking,” Roz said, still giddy with relief at having the universe make sense again. “‘Oh my god, what are they saying?'”
“Rest assured, we would have offered you something more than fruit salad to get you in the mood,” Niles said, and Roz smiled at his determination to remain a good host even in such an outrageous theoretical scenario as Daphne and Niles settled into a chair to the right of the couch Roz was sitting on.
“You know what?,” Daphne said after a moment’s consideration. “She didn’t say no.”
“You’re right,” Niles said, turning from Daphne to Roz. “She didn’t.”
“Only because it was so weird,” Roz said. “I didn’t know what to say. Of course I was going to say no. Besides, you two are the last people I would ever expect that kind of invitation from.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Daphne asked, a little affronted.
“Oh you know,” Roz said with a wave of her hand, “It’s not exactly your area.”
“How do you know?” Daphne asked. “It could be.”
Roz turned to Niles, “Hey Niles, you ever had a threesome?”
“No,” Niles answered.
“I rest my case,” Roz said, rolling her eyes for good measure.
“There’s a first time for everything,” Daphne said.
“Yeah, but not with me,” Roz said. “Don’t get me wrong, I was flattered, but it still would have been a no.”
Daphne looked put out but it was Niles who spoke, “We’re all adults here. Why wouldn’t you want to have a ménage with us?”
“For starters,” Roz said with a slight grin. “You haven’t asked me.”
“All right then,” Daphne said. “What if we did?”
“Oh please, I’ve heard your stories,” Roz dismissed Daphne before glancing to Niles. “And your made up stories.” Niles balked and Roz took a piece of pear with her fork and ate it. She couldn’t resist taking the shot at Niles, even though she was well aware of the upswing in quality of Daphne’s stories since she and Niles started sleeping together. “And it’d be too weird,” Roz concluded.
“Maybe not,” Daphne looked thoughtful as she sent Niles into the kitchen for a bottle of wine.
Once the kitchen door swung closed Roz said bluntly, “Niles couldn’t handle it.”
“You’d be surprised what he can handle,” Daphne replied without missing a beat.
“Please. Neither of you are the type. Nothing against either one of you but you couldn’t handle it.”
“And why not? We’re not as innocent as all that.”
Roz ate a piece of melon and chewed long enough to mull over how best to answer. “You’re endlessly fascinated by each other. And that’s great! I’m happy for you both! But you don’t need a third, and my idea of a good time isn’t watching two of my friends fuck.”
And of all the things Roz was expecting Daphne to say in response to that, “I wouldn’t waste you on watching,” was not on the list. But that was what she said. Which meant Daphne was actually thinking about this. She was sitting across from her actually thinking about the logistics of a potential threesome. And now that Daphne was, Roz was, but she needed to put a stop to that because it was too weird to consider, even as a joke. Which this had to be. The punchline was coming. She knew it. The alternative was too strange to consider.
“You’d really be comfortable with me—” Roz paused where she could have said ‘having sex with’ and edited it back. “kissing your husband?”
“With my permission? Sure. Assuming I got my turn,” Daphne’s voice was a little lower than usual, and she was speaking with an intention Roz had never heard her use with her before.
“With him?” Roz deflected, still certain Daphne was just leading her on, that the punchline was coming any moment now. “Or with me?”
“With you of course,” Daphne laughed. “I can kiss him whenever I want.” There was a slight edge in the way she said kiss that had the same coded meaning as when Roz said it and that settled it. Daphne was flirting with her. Roz was an expert on such things and there was no other way to interpret this.
This was not how she had seen her evening going.
Because here was the thing. Daphne was, well, Daphne. And Roz found herself staring at her as Daphne kept talking, trying to let her brain get up to speed on the actual conversation she was having with her right now. Daphne. Her good friend Daphne. Who was married to Niles.
“Who knows,” Daphne continued, still talking like this was a normal conversation to have on a whim over fruit salad. “It could be fun. And if it ever happened you’d be in full control. And Niles is very good at following orders.”
“Hey now!” Niles said as he returned with a bottle of wine and glasses on a tray, his ears turning red before the colour crept into his cheeks.
Roz accepted her wine and felt no need to reassure him from his embarrassment. As if Niles’ submissive side was in any way new information to her. Please, she’d known that about him from the moment she watched him dust down a chair before sitting in it, many long years before Daphne was able to confirm just how submissive he was when Daphne wanted him to be.
“I was just saying,” Daphne said to Niles as she shifted to make room for him to sit in the chair beside her. “That were the three of us to ever proceed with such activities, theoretically of course, that Roz would be in control. Fair's fair and all that. And that would leave us to surrender to her whims together.”
“Um,” Niles squeaked.
It would never happen and it would be too weird but watching the two of them process that idea together and then look back at her, well, quite frankly, Roz was starting to see the appeal.
And there was something about the original proposition, which wasn’t a proposition at all, but going off the theoretical alternate scenario they were discussing, the original context of the invitation was… something. She had a bad date and they offered. That was it. It wasn’t a big deal or planned (she wasn’t even supposed to be there at all). It was just a casual offer to join them for the evening. And there was something sweet about that. Something that, even amongst the shock and weirdness, she’d considered? Was considering? Maybe?
She smirked at the thought. It would almost be worth it to show up at work tomorrow and be able to answer Frasier’s “What did you do last night?” question with “Daphne and your brother” just to see the look of horror on his face. If she was feeling petty that day she’d make sure to say it right before he went on the air for maximum amusement.
But no.
No way.
It was too weird.
And it was time to put this conversation to bed, as there was no way the three of them would be joining it there.
Roz leaned forward, considering them both before she spoke. “All right, it could be fun. But it would be too weird. Because at the end of the night you’re still married and in love and I’m still your friend. I wouldn’t want to jeopardize that, so even if you did ask me, it would be a ‘thanks but no thanks’. But just for the record,” she paused for a moment, letting herself embody her most no-nonsense self, all assertive and confident and dare she say dominant, before she continued, “If we ever did do it, which we won’t, but if we did: I come first, both metaphorically and literally. I know you two are obsessed with each other but if we do this, you’re working together to get me off. I’m not your accessory or your witness or your experiment. I am the reason you’re doing this tonight. I am the centre of your combined attention, and only when I am satisfied will I release you from my command. Understood?”
Daphne put her hand on Niles’ knee, somewhere between giving him permission and steadying them both, the two of them looking thunderstruck and something else. Turned on. That was the something else.
God, they really would just let her boss them around.
“But it will never happen,” Roz finished as she picked up her wine glass, casual as could be, as Niles and Daphne watched her with the undivided attention her previous tone of voice had demanded, even though she had dropped the intensity when she let them off the hook. “Because you two aren’t the type.”
“Right,” Daphne agreed in a daze.
“Not the type,” Niles echoed from an identical trance.
That was that. They were all free to go back to how they had been before tonight, like this conversation had never happened.
Except that they weren’t back where they started. That much was obvious as Daphne and Niles tried to compose themselves enough to pick a new topic of conversation as Roz watched them struggle and made no effort whatsoever to help them. Roz returned to her fruit salad, skewering a grape with her fork and eating it as if the new understanding between them wasn’t news to her. She hadn’t thought about any of this stuff before tonight, but it was clear they had all learned something from this little mix-up.
They now knew with certainty that if Daphne and Niles ever asked Roz for a threesome (which they wouldn’t), Roz would say no. They would have assumed as much before, but now they all knew it to be true.
But if Roz ever asked Daphne and Niles for a threesome, they would say yes.
And now they all knew that too.