"Fraser, one day you're gonna have to get a new lock on this door. Any lowlife could just walk in here and steal…"

Detective Ray Vecchio came to an abrupt halt just inside the open doorway.

He glanced around the stark, virtually empty apartment.

"Absolutely nothing," he continued, sounding incredulous. "You have absolutely nothing of any value that any self respecting thief might wanna take."

A low lupine grumble from the far corner.

Vecchio rolled his eyes. "Sorry, my mistake. Big market in Chicago for deaf wolves with fast food addictions."

Another lupine grumble, only louder.

The unmistakable figure of Constable Benton Fraser, Royal Canadian Mounted Police strode in to view.

"Now, Diefenbaker, I'm sure Ray wasn't casting aspersions about your value as an individual. Only that you would lack a certain economic currency on the streets of Chicago." Finished adjusting his Sam Brown belt over his bright red tunic, Fraser looked to the Chicago cop and raised his eyebrows. "Isn't that right, Ray?"

Vecchio, a real serious look on his face, nodded vigorously. "Oh yeah, of course, that's right Benny. Don't want the wolf feeling unappreciated. Especially when he's always such a vital part of whatever latest Dudley-Do-Right adventure you end up dragging me in to."

A low wolf snort.

Oblivious to the heavy sarcasm, Fraser, smiling appreciatively, leaned in closer to Vecchio and whispered, "Thank you kindly, Ray. Last thing I wanted was to spend the day with a grumpy wolf." Then louder, "So I take it we are heading to the police precinct?"

Ray nodded. "Yeah. I gotta finish filling out the report on that gang of transvestite bank robbers you and that vitally important wolf of yours busted last week." He turned and started back out of the open apartment door. "And you need to clarify a few things in your statement before I type it up again. Plus there's one real big thing missing. Like how come they all seemed to know you already in that freakydeaky bar."

Fraser followed the grouchy cop out in to the hall, grabbing his wide-brimmed Mountie hat on the way.

"Technically, Ray, those bank robbers were transsexuals, not transvestites. The difference being…"

Vecchio whirled on Fraser.

"Can it, Benny. I know what the difference is, okay?"

Fraser nodded. "Okay, Ray. And as to how the patrons of 'Adams and Eves' know me. Well…" The Mountie chuckled to himself. "It's actually quite the funny story and concerns a young man from Saskatchewan who I met a few weeks ago while out looking for some new food for Diefenbaker, and the attempted importing of illegal Moose meat from…"

Making a face, Vecchio spun on his heel and hurried off down the hallway.

"You can save the transsexual Moose hunter anecdote for the report, Fraser. Let's just get a move on before Lieutenant Welsh decides to turn me in to wolf food, okay?"

"Of course Ray. Sorry Ray. I'm right behind you."

Eyes fixed to Vecchio's fast retreating back, Fraser leaned left and with his hat free hand grabbed the still open front door.

About to pull it closed, he paused.

"Well, are you coming?"

A grumbled whine from inside.

"Of course Ray wants you to come. He appreciates the valuable contribution you make to crime fighting in Chicago."

Another whine.

"No, he wasn't being sarcastic, Diefenbaker. You know very well how important you are to everything I do. I wouldn't even be here if it weren't for you. Now please, can we go?"

A chuff, a grumble, the sound of a body hefting up, followed by the skittering of claws on bare boards.

Diefenbaker, who had saved Fraser's life by pulling him from freezing waters (going deaf as a result) and who'd stuck with him ever since, came trotting out of the apartment. Passing the Mountie, seemingly ignoring him, the wolf headed on down the hall, grumbling all the way.

Fraser watched him go.

He sighed.

"I just don't know. A wolf goes deaf saving your life, then requires daily affirmation as to his continuing self worth."

"Fraser!" A faint but highly impatient voice yelled from the floor below.

"Yes Ray, I'm on my way," Fraser called back.

Closing his apartment door, the one without a lock, the Mountie took off down the hall, his long, heavy booted strides propelling him after his two best friends in the whole wide world.

End