Disclaimer: I don't own Due South, I'm not associated with those who do, and I'm making absolutely no money off of this. Triple darn! ;-)

A/N: This is a story that I wrote several years ago, long before I discovered this site. I'd like to think my writing has improved since I wrote this, but I made a few tweaks and touchups so hopefully it's passable. I know I took a few liberties with respect to how the Antiques Roadshow is run, so please forgive me for that. Please R&R! )

"Constable Fraser!"

Inspector Meg Thatcher's voice bellowed throughout the Canadian consulate, reaching every room on the ground floor. Almost instantly, Benton Fraser appeared in the doorway of Thatcher's office, standing at attention.

"I have an assignment for you, Constable," Inspector Thatcher addressed him from where she stood behind her desk.

"Yes, sir?"

Thatcher cleared her throat. "As you may know, Fraser, the Antiques Roadshow is filming two episodes here in Chicago this week."

"I was unaware of that, sir," Fraser admitted.

"Well," the inspector continued regardless, "the appraisers are going to be at the convention centre this afternoon. I'd go myself, but I have an important meeting. And the clock..." Thatcher trailed off.

Fraser was puzzled. "The clock, sir?"

"This clock." She reached down behind her desk and produced an elaborately carved mantle clock. It stood just over a foot high and its design featured what appeared to be human forms twisted and contorted into various odd positions.

"It's a very nice clock," Fraser observed appreciatively, noting that it was probably more than a hundred years old.

"Yes, well, it was bequeathed to me by my grandmother," Thatcher explained.

"Ah, I see. And I take it you would like to have it appraised?" the Constable surmised.

"That's correct," Inspector Thatcher replied, setting the piece down her desk. "I'm curious about its value."

"I see."

"For insurance purposes, of course," she added quickly.

"Of course," Fraser echoed just as quickly.

Inspector Thatcher cleared her throat once again. "Yes, well, I have to leave now. I trust you'll take good care of my clock." She picked it up and handed it to Fraser.

"I'll guard it with my life," he promised her as he accepted the heirloom.

"Good," Thatcher said, satisfied. "You're dismissed, Constable."

"Thank you, sir." Fraser turned and left the office, carrying his new charge with him. Once he was out in the hall, the Mountie paused and looked down at the clock in his hands. Now all he had to do was arrange a way to get to the convention centre.

OoOoOoO

Fraser was waiting on the consulate's front steps when his partner and friend, Ray Kowalski, pulled up to the curb in his black GTO. The Mountie walked briskly over to the car and climbed into the passenger seat, clock in hand.

"Hello, Ray," he greeted his friend happily. "Thank you for coming."

Kowalski peered suspiciously at the object in his friend's lap. "What the hell is that?" he asked, not bothering to return Fraser's greeting.

"It's a clock, Ray," the Mountie answered simply, accustomed to his friend's abrupt manner.

"Fraser," Kowalski began slowly, looking at his partner. "Please tell me you were joking on the phone earlier when you said we were going to the Antiques Roadshow. I mean, we're actually supposed to take that thing to the junkyard, right?"

"No, Ray, I was completely serious," Fraser assured him.

"You mean to tell me that the Ice Queen actually thinks that... that thing might be worth something?" Ray asked in disbelief, taking in the hideous form of the clock.

"Well, why not?" Fraser queried in response. "It's extremely well made."

"It's ugly," Ray said bluntly, as he pulled away from the curb and into the early afternoon traffic.

"It's a fine piece of craftsmanship," the Mountie countered, admiring the object.

"It's grotesque."

Fraser remained unfazed. "It's a great example of skilled handiwork."

"Are you kidding me?"

"Not in the least," Fraser assured him.

"C'mon, Fraser, it's a hunk o' junk!" Kowalski put on the brakes as they arrived at a red light.

"Now, Ray, if you would just take a moment to really look at it, you would see that it's an object of great beauty."

"Fraser, I could stare at that thing all day and it would still look just as ugly as it does now," Ray declared, his opinion unfaltering.

The Mountie sighed, but decided to drop the subject for the time being. The light they were stopped at turned green and Kowalski stepped down hard on the gas, causing Fraser to grasp the clock more tightly as he was thrown back in his seat.

Ray shrugged his right shoulder and gave his neck a snap as they sped down the street. The detective couldn't believe that he was making a trip to the Antiques Roadshow. But then again, he always seemed to end up doing the oddest things when Fraser was around. He cast a quick glance over at his friend and Thatcher's precious heirloom. "I can't believe I let you talk me into this," Ray marvelled out loud. "I'm gonna spend the whole afternoon staring at a bunch of old furniture 'n stuff."

"Oh, it's much more than just old furniture and knickknacks, Ray," the Mountie informed his partner. "I'm sure many of the items we'll see today will have fascinating histories."

"Yeah, well, I never was much of a history buff," Ray grumbled, determined not to show any interest in the upcoming event.

"Well, I'm sure something there will catch your fancy," Fraser said confidently.

"I doubt it." Ray cranked the steering wheel hard, squealing around a corner.

Fraser was once more forced to get a firmer grip on the clock as he was thrust into the side of the car. When he was sitting upright again, Fraser straightened his hat on his head and turned to look at his partner. "You know, Ray, your driving really leaves something to be desired."

Kowalski stepped down even harder on the gas pedal. "Look, Fraser. I'm an expert at driving. You don't criticize an expert."

"I'm sorry, Ray," Fraser apologized. "I don't mean to criticize you. It's just that, as an officer of the law, you should really be setting an example."

"I am setting an example."

"Of what?" Fraser asked incredulously.

"Of driving with style," Ray replied with a smile.

"Ray, really --"

The detective raised a hand to cut off his friend. "Fraser, am I not doing you a favour by driving you and the Ice Queen's twisted clock to this Roadshow thing?"

"Yes, Ray, you are," the Mountie admitted.

"All right then. No more negative comments about my driving or I'm turning around and going home, capisce?"

"Ray, it's just that --"

"Hey!" Ray said sharply, holding his hand up again. "I mean it."

"All right," Fraser conceded. "As you wish."

"That's better," Ray said with a satisfied nod. With that, he turned sharply into the parking lot of the convention centre.

OoOoOoO

A few minutes later, Fraser had paid their entrance fees and the two men were directed through a set of double doors. As they entered the large room where the event was being held, Ray was surprised to see crowds of people already present.

"All these people are here for the Antiques Roadshow?" he asked, amazed. He had expected to see a small crowd of old folks, but instead there were throngs of people, young and old.

"Apparently it's quite a popular event," the Mountie replied, looking around.

Just then a middle-aged woman approached them, smiling cheerily. "Good afternoon and welcome to the Antiques Roadshow," she greeted. Then she looked down at what Fraser was holding. "A clock? Clocks go in the lineup over there by the man in the green shirt." She pointed them in the right direction.

Fraser tipped his hat at her. "Thank you kindly, ma'am," he said politely. Then he and Ray proceeded across the room.

Once they had taken their place in the lineup, it didn't take long for Ray to become antsy. After looking at his watch for about the tenth time, he asked, "Just how long is this gonna take? Cuz the sooner we can get outta here, the better."

Fraser turned to look at him. "You know, Ray, if you would just give it a chance, I'm sure you would find this to be an illuminating experience."

"Illuminating? Standing in line is supposed to be illuminating?"

"Of course not, Ray," Fraser said in his don't-be-silly voice. "It's what will come at the end of the line that will be illuminating."

"Yeah, but how long's that gonna take?" Kowalski asked, craning his neck to try and see how many people were ahead of them.

"Patience, Ray," Fraser counselled him.

"I'm no good at patience, Fraser, you know that."

"It's a virtue, you know," the Mountie reminded him.

"I don't care."

"Just a few more minutes."

"Hmmph," was all Ray had left to say.

Luckily for the detective, the line moved along quickly and they soon found themselves at the front of it. An appraiser motioned them toward him, then shook their hands and introduced himself as Richard Tillbury. Taking the clock in his hands, he looked it over carefully, hmmming and haaaing enigmatically as he did so. Finally, he finished his examination and looked up.

"This is quite an interesting piece you have here," the appraiser complemented.

"Why, thank you kindly," Fraser said, sounding as pleased as if it were his own clock.

"Would you mind if we did the appraisal on camera?"

Fraser suddenly became flustered, "On…on camera?"

"That's right," Tillbury confirmed.

The Mountie was now looking distinctly uncomfortable. "Well, I... er..."

"He'd love to," Ray jumped in with a smile, clapping a hand to Fraser's shoulder.

"Wonderful!" the appraiser exclaimed enthusiastically. He picked up the clock and motioned to Fraser and Kowalski. "This way, please."

"Ray!" The Mountie's voice was barely more than a whisper but he sounded extremely alarmed. "I can't go on television!"

"Sure you can, Fraser. Take the plunge. Live a little dangerously."

"Perhaps you could go in my place," Fraser suggested hopefully. "You'd be much better suited to --"

Ray didn't let him finish. "Forget it, Fraser. They want you. Besides, the Ice Queen is your boss, not mine." He put a hand on Fraser's back. "It's a done deal, buddy. Now, go." He gave the Mountie a small push in the direction that the appraiser had gone.

Obediently, Fraser walked over to the table where Mr. Tillbury was now waiting with the clock. A cameraman was also waiting with his equipment, ready to film the appraisal. Before sitting down, the Mountie turned back to his partner and handed him his Stetson for safekeeping.

"How do I look, Ray?" Fraser asked worriedly, tugging at his red tunic.

"Perfect as usual," Kowalski reassured him, and the Mountie began to relax. "Except your hair's kinda..."

"Kind of what?" Fraser began to panic again and furiously tried to flatten his hair with the palm of his hand.

"Fraser!" Ray sounded exasperated.

The Mountie immediately stopped when he was doing and looked at his partner. "What?"

"I was kidding!"

"Oh." Fraser blinked a couple of times. "Oh. Right. Well, in that case I guess I should..." He trailed off as he looked at the vacant chair beside him.

"Yes, you should," Ray agreed.

"All right then." Clearing his throat nervously, Fraser straightened his tunic one last time and took a seat beside the appraiser.

Once the cameras were rolling, Tillbury turned to Fraser and started up conversationally, "So, tell us. You're a Mountie, are you not?"

"That's correct," Fraser confirmed with a smile.

"May I ask what a Mountie is doing here in Chicago?" the appraiser asked, curious.

"Certainly," Fraser replied.

Behind him, Ray rolled his eyes heavenward, knowing what was coming next.

Oblivious to his partner's reaction, Fraser continued. "I first came to Chicago on the trail of my father's killers and, for reasons that don't need exploring at this juncture, I have remained, attached as liaison officer with the Canadian consulate."

"And you brought this clock with you?" the appraiser prompted.

"Ah, no. I've actually brought it here on behalf of my superior officer. It was bequeathed to her by her grandmother."

"I see," Tillbury said in a voice that suggested that Fraser was rather different from all the other people he had worked with on the Roadshow. However, he quickly continued on with the appraisal. "Well, what we have here is a prime example of superior clockmaking, crafted in Paris around 1860 by a rather eccentric man named Henri Chacier..."

The appraiser went on to give more history about the clock, praise its original design, and to comment on its relatively good condition. Finally, he came to the part that Ray was waiting to hear.

"Do you have any idea about its value?" Mr. Tillbury questioned Constable Fraser.

"Well, actually," Fraser began in his fountain-of-knowledge voice, "considering by whom it was made, it's age, condition, and originality, I expect --"

"Fraser!" Ray hissed in his ear. "Just say no!"

"Ah, no," Fraser finished abruptly. "I have no idea."

"Well, I think it would be safe to say that this clock would fetch between ten and twelve thousand dollars at auction today," Tillbury declared with a smile.

Ray let out a low whistle.

"I hope your superior officer will be pleased," the appraiser finished.

"I'm sure she will be," Fraser assured him. "Thank you kindly."

The two men rose from their chairs and shook hands. Then Fraser collected Thatcher's clock and moved off with Ray close at his side.

"Wow!" Ray exclaimed as soon as they had emerged from the crowd that had been watching the appraisal. "That thing's worth twelve grand?!"

"Apparently," Fraser confirmed.

Ray raised his eyebrows and gave his head a quick shake. "Wow," he repeated.

The two men slowly began to make their way through the throngs of people who were milling about the large room. After dodging around a woman carrying a large lamp, Ray quickly made his way back to Fraser's side. "You know, Fraser, you were right. I'm starting to see the beauty in that clock now."

The Mountie looked carefully at his partner. "Ray, I hope you're not suggesting that you've taken a liking to the clock simply because of its monetary value."

"Nah. That would be kinda shallow."

"Yes, it would," Fraser agreed.

"It's more like the value that's been placed on it has caused me to look at it more carefully. You know, to see it in a new light," the detective explained. "I'm beginning to appreciate its originality and quality craftsmanship."

"Ah," Fraser intoned, somewhat skeptically.

"What?" Ray asked defensively. "You don't believe me?"

"I didn't say that," Fraser said noncommittally.

"Look," Ray continued, still trying to convince his friend. "I'm really starting to notice it's... er... finer points."

"Well, in that case would you be so kind as to hold it for a moment while I assist this lady with her chair?" the Mountie requested, referring to an elderly woman who was having difficulty dragging an ornately carved chair across the floor. Without waiting for a reply, Fraser handed the heirloom to Kowalski and took off.

For a moment, Ray stood there looking down at the clock in his hands and trying desperately to see the 'beauty' and 'finer points' that he had been going on about only moments before. To be honest, all he really saw were dollar signs.

Giving up, he looked around for Fraser but saw that the Mountie was full swing into his Boy Scout routine. With a sigh, Ray resigned himself to browsing around the various tables. After a few minutes, a particular table caught his eye and he moved toward it. Various old toys, including toy versions of classic cars, were set out on its surface. Having walked almost the full length of the table, Ray came across a man who was packing pieces of an old Lionel train set back into a box.

"Hey, I used to have a train set like that," Kowalski said to the man, setting Thatcher's clock down the edge of the table so he could take a closer look.

"Really?" the man said with interest.

"Yeah," Ray replied. "Hey, how much did the experts say it was worth?"

"About fifteen hundred dollars for the various cars I have here. But I've got more at home as well."

"Wow." Ray was getting really interested now. He was about to say more when someone suddenly ploughed into his back and nearly sent Ray face first into the tabletop. "Hey!" Ray recovered quickly and spun around angrily to confront the culprit. "Watch what you're --" the detective cut off his own sentence abruptly, shocked by what he saw.

A man with long, scraggly brown hair had swiped Thatcher's clock and was now darting through the crowds toward the exit!

His hand going immediately to his gun, Ray yelled at the top of his lungs,

"FRASER!!!"

OoOoOoO

Pushing free of the crowds of people, Ray yanked his gun from its holster and started off at a run. He crashed through a set of double doors and out into the convention centre's parking lot just in time to see the thief round a corner into an alleyway. Without delay, the detective followed, running at full tilt.

It became obvious almost right away that the robber was familiar with the neighbourhood, which made things much more difficult for Kowalski. The thief darted between buildings, ran down narrow alleys, and jumped low walls and fences. The path of the chase twisted and turned so many times that Ray quickly lost all sense of direction. After several minutes it became clear that the thief was winning out. Even with the rather cumbersome load of the clock, he was continuously increasing the distance between himself and the detective.

Finally, Kowalski came out from between two buildings and found himself in the middle of yet another alley, but his quarry was nowhere to be seen. Ray carefully scanned the alley in one direction, then the other. Nothing. He checked behind all the dumpsters, but still he didn't find the thief. A couple of rats and a lot of rotting garbage, but no thief. And no clock.

"Damn," he cursed under his breath. He looked about him once more, realizing that the thief wasn't the only one he had lost sight of.

Where the hell was Fraser?

OoOoOoO

Glancing over his shoulder, the thief realized that he had finally shaken his pursuer. He smiled smugly to himself, stopping for a moment to catch his breath. Then, with the stolen clock tucked under his arm, he set off again, walking with a confident gait.

However, he had only gone a few paces when he stopped short. Constable Fraser had just rounded the corner and now stood at the alley's entrance, only twenty feet away.

"Excuse me, sir," the Mountie began, standing straight and firm with his eyes looking levelly at the felon. "That clock belongs to a member of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police. Kindly place it gently on the ground and step aside."

The thief hesitated, momentarily worried. Then he relaxed, noting that the constable held no weapon. The thief let out a short laugh as his confidence returned. "You're kidding, right?"

"No," Fraser replied. "I'm quite serious. Now, I'll ask you once again to please relinquish the clock."

"And just who's gonna make me?" the robber taunted cockily.

"I am."

The voice came from behind the thief, who then spun around to see Ray approaching slowly, gun drawn and ready.

"Now," the detective instructed, "do as the Mountie said."

The crook glanced over his shoulder and then back at Ray, trying to figure out if there was any possible way for him to escape.

"Now!" Kowalski barked.

Slowly, the felon set the clock on the ground and took a single step to the side.

"Good," Ray said, taking a step closer. "Now turn around and put your hands behind your back," he ordered, but the thief hesitated, still thinking about making a getaway.

"Do it or I'll jump Bogart all over you!" the detective threatened, and this time the crook obeyed. Kowalski quickly moved in and handcuffed the felon before placing his gun back in its holster.

Picking the clock up off the ground, Fraser looked at his partner and smiled. "Thank you for coming, Ray."

The blond man shrugged. "Ah, well, you know... I was in the neighbourhood." Grabbing onto the back of the thief's jacket, Ray gave him a shove and started down the alley.

"Ray, Ray, Ray, Ray," the Mountie called like a broken record until Kowalski finally stopped and spun around.

"What?" the detective asked, annoyed.

"The car's this way." Fraser pointed in the opposite direction.

"Oh. Right." Ray shoved the prisoner in Fraser's direction and started walking again. "I knew that."

OoOoOoO

Once the robber was safely shut up in the back seat of the GTO, Fraser and Ray regarded each other over the roof of the car.

"Well, Ray, despite the interruption, I hope you were able to find something that interested you in the display today."

In his mind, Kowalski was thinking about how he should give his dad a call to see if he still had that old train set hanging around, but out loud he said, "You know, Frase, no offence, but it just wasn't my kinda thing."

The Mountie nodded, not expecting to have heard otherwise from his partner. "No offence taken, Ray."

"Although," the detective went on, "I am glad we managed to recover the clock."

"Because you know now that it's worth a lot of money?" Fraser assumed.

"Well, yeah, there's that," Ray admitted. "But more because I was worried."

"Worried?"

"Yeah. I mean, if you'd had to go to the Ice Queen and tell her that her twelve thousand dollar heirloom had been stolen... well, I might have been attending a funeral tomorrow," the detective explained.

"Ray," Fraser said, sounding pleasantly surprised, "I'm touched by your concern."

"Well, don't be," Kowalski said bluntly. "I didn't mean I was worried about you, I meant I was worried about having to wear a suit and tie."

"Ah," Fraser said, but he could see that a grin was tugging at his partner's mouth. Still looking across the car roof at his friend, the Mountie smiled broadly in return.

"Understood."

The End