Melting the Ice Queen
By Tanya Reed
Notes: This story was written for het_bigbang over at livejournal. It took me three months to write and it's a little over 53 000 words long. It's the story that got me into the whole Ray K/Meg thing to begin with. It's a prequel to my stories Lunch, Cuddle, Meg versus the Zombie Movie, The Dance, and Respect the Uniform. I don't know if anyone is actually going to read this, but, if you do, I hope you enjoy it. Thanks go to primroseburrows, mark_clark, slumber, leigh57, x_nothing_here, eviinsanemonkey, sl_walker, kalijean, and exbex for helping me with this thing.
Disclaimer: I haven't owned Due South for the twelve years I've written in the universe, and that hasn't changed.
XXX
Ray Kowalski bounced his way up the steps into the Canadian Consulate. The sun was shining, he had the afternoon off, and Fraser and Turnbull had promised to play some ball with him when they got off work. He was a little early, but he was hoping the Ice Queen would let his friends go if they were done their work for the day. She did sometimes, even if it didn't happen very often.
Ray threw the door open to see Turnbull working at his desk diligently. When Ray entered, the tall Mountie looked up and smiled.
"Ray, you're early."
"I know it. The Ice Queen in?"
Turnbull snuck a glance at his Superior Officer's door. A look of real fear flashed over his face.
"Ray," he whispered fiercely, "it is not appropriate to speak that way about Ins..."
Ray held up his hand. "I'll take that as a yes. Is Fraser here?"
"Constable Fraser is in his office finishing up his 10989B Report."
"Any chance the Ice...I mean the Inspector...will let you out early?"
"I'm scheduled for another one point four hours."
"I know. I said early, Turnbull. Early." He drawled the last word out slowly.
"I have no idea."
Ray sighed and said, "I'm gonna talk to Fraser. The Ice Queen lets you go, come get us."
"As you wish."
Ray shook his head as he wandered towards Fraser's office. Sometimes talking to Turnbull was like talking to a wall. Even so, he liked the Constable and had considered him a friend since they'd spent a couple of days together almost a year before. In fact, he was considering asking Turnbull to go see Burning Down the House with him when the movie came to theatres in a couple of weeks.
The back of the Consulate was quiet and more dimly lit than the front. It was also more private, and Ray knew that's what Fraser liked about it.
A year before, Ray would have barged into the tiny, closet-like room that his friend called an office. Today, he stopped and knocked politely, grimacing to himself as he realized that Fraser was slowly rubbing off on him.
"Come in."
"Hey, Frase," Ray said, opening the door.
"Oh, hello, Ray. You're early."
"Yeah. I just went through this with Turnbull. You almost done?"
"I just have to finish this last form, and I am free for the weekend. Inspector Thatcher is leaving early herself and told me once my duties are done, I'm free to go."
"What about Turnbull?"
"He's terribly behind," Fraser sounded disapproving.
"Do you think he'll stop working after Thatcher goes?"
"And leave his paperwork undone?" The shock on Fraser's face made Ray want to laugh. Instead, he just grinned and plopped into the guest chair. "C'mon, Fraser. He can finish on Monday. It's a beautiful day out there."
"I don't think..."
"And what she doesn't know won't hurt her."
"Ray."
Ray just shook his head and tapped his foot impatiently. Fraser's hand flew as he filled in the report. Still, it didn't seem fast enough. Ray hit his head lightly on the back of his chair, listening to the noise. He really wasn't good at waiting.
He started counting rubber ducks in his mind and had gotten as far as fifty-three when there was a polite knock on the still open door.
Fraser's pen stopped scratching and he looked up. Ray turned slightly and saw the Inspector standing in the doorway. He let his eyes drift over her because he knew she hadn't noticed he was looking at her. She was wearing a beige suit that modestly hugged her curves and brought out the creamy whiteness of her skin. Her serious face gave away nothing of what she was thinking, but her normally porcelain pale cheeks held a hint of color.
"Well, I'm off, Fraser," she said. "Are you almost done your 10989B Report?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good. Put it on my desk on your way out."
"Yes, sir."
She nodded at him slightly, then her eyes slid to Ray. "Detective."
"Inspector," he replied in the same tone.
She turned and left the room without another word. Seconds later, her stern voice drifted through the open door.
"How far have you gotten, Turnbull?"
"These are finished, ma'am. I still have these to do."
"All of those?" Her disapproval was sharp in her voice. Ray winced in sympathy for Turnbull.
"Yes, sir."
"That could take you all night."
"Yes, sir." Turnbull sounded forlorn.
"It's Friday afternoon. I'm leaving, and soon Constable Fraser will be as well."
"Yes, sir."
There was a pause. Ray sat up straighter, wondering if his plans for the day were about to be crushed.
"Leave it." There was a tinge of annoyance in her voice.
"Sir?" In his mind, Ray could see the look of absolute befuddlement on his friend's face.
"Just this once, do you understand? Go home and tackle the work on Monday. I expect it to be completed by the time you leave Monday evening. Is this understood?"
"Leave my paperwork, sir?"
"Turnbull."
"Yes, sir. I understand. Thank you, sir."
"Dismissed."
"Finished," Fraser announced at the same time.
Ray immediately bounced to his feet. "Then let's go."
Fraser stood up and started tidying his desk. He was still tidying when Turnbull appeared, his face flushed and excited.
"I have been relieved for the day," he announced unnecessarily.
"I am also finished," Fraser told him, grabbing his report.
"Greatness. Now, let's get going," Ray prodded, herding his friends through the door.
"I'm glad we're leaving early," Turnbull commented as they moved towards the Inspector's office.
"Yeah? Why's that?
"After our game, I would like to go out and buy a present for the woman I wish to be my Valentine this year."
"Let me guess," Ray asked in amusement, "Frannie?"
The large Mountie looked stunned. "Yes. How did you know?"
"It's not like it's a secret. When is Valentine's Day, anyway?"
"Sunday, so I don't have much time. I need to find the perfect present. Any suggestions?"
"You can't go wrong with flowers," Ray said absently, looking around as they entered the Inspector's office.
It was neat. Not one thing was out of place. Even what little paper there was on her desk was stacked perfectly. Ray thought of his own desk; sometimes it was so cluttered he had to dig to find the surface. There was something suspicious about a person whose office was this neat. His eyes flicked to Fraser, who was carefully placing his form on his boss's desk. Maybe it was a Canadian thing.
The three men didn't speak until they left the office because that solemn room seemed to forbid any noise. Ray couldn't stay quiet long, however, and as soon as they were outside and he was bouncing down the Consulate steps much as he had bounced up, he asked, "So, why'd the Ice Queen leave early? Hot date?"
"No, Ray," Fraser told him, following at a more sedate pace. "She is going to a little girl's first birthday party."
Ray snorted. "I should have known. Who'd want to go out with the Ice Queen?"
"The Inspector is a lovely woman. If you'd just give her a chance..."
"Are you kidding? Her legs are probably frozen together. If someone wanted to be her Valentine, she'd probably kick 'em in the head."
Ray turned to see both Mounties looking at him with identical expressions of horror. He quietly backtracked in his mind to see what he'd said that would make their faces do that. Oh. Well, he wasn't going to apologize. Until he had proof otherwise, he was going to believe her legs really were frozen together.
"C'mon. Pitter patter, let's get at 'er. It'll be dark soon."
Turnbull's horrified look turned puzzled. "Are we playing outside?"
"The brisk air will do you good, Turnbull," Fraser put in.
"In February?" Ray said at the same time. "Nah. I've got a place I go to."
Turnbull smiled a wide smile that spread across his broad face. "Excellent."
XXX
Three games of basketball later, Ray was tiredly following the man who was rapidly becoming his ex-friend. They were in the mall, going from store to store as Turnbull searched for the perfect gift for Frannie.
Turnbull had insisted that he couldn't find that present alone, so Ray had reluctantly agreed to help. The thing was, he hated shopping for women. It gave him a headache. The absolute joy Turnbull took in the process made it a hundred times worse.
Ray groaned as they stepped into another trinket shop. Why couldn't Turnbull just take his suggestion about the flowers so they could go home?
He sighed as he watched his friend carefully study a shelf full of angel figurines. With the way they were going, Ray would be lucky to get home in time for the late news. Bored, his eyes started wandering and so did his mind.
One of the figures on a nearby shelf caught his attention. It was a small, dark-haired fairy, dressed in white, with ice and snow clinging to her dress. Despite her remote face, the features were pretty. Because her only real color was in her dark hair and eyes, Ray's gaze was naturally drawn to them. He squinted at the figure, thinking that she reminded him of something...or someone. When he read the tag, he chuckled to himself. It was an ice fairy. The name alone tempted him to buy it and put it on the Ice Queen's desk. It was pretty enough that she might not take offense.
Thinking of the Ice Queen, Ray remembered his comment about her killing any would-be Valentines. In his head, he saw Turnbull approaching her with a card and ice fairy in his hands. Ray smiled as he also saw the Ice Queen laying her subordinate out flat on the floor.
Of course, his thoughts went even further, she couldn't deck her Valentine if she didn't know who he was. What if she got the request from a secret admirer? What would she do then? Would she still want to kick him in the head? Would she be embarrassed? Ray's mind supplied an image of an outraged Thatcher crumpling an envelope and throwing it disdainfully in a garbage can by her desk. That would be something to see.
"What do you think, Ray?" Turnbull cut into his amused thoughts, holding up two cherubs. "Do you think your ersatz sister would like one of these?"
"My er...what?" Ray blinked in confusion.
"Francesca. Which do you think she'd prefer?"
"I don't know. I'd still go with the flowers."
"Really?" He frowned.
"Yes. Now, can we go?"
"But...but flowers die, Ray."
"And so does love. Let's go."
Turnbull looked almost as shocked as he had when Ray had spoken about his boss's thighs. He sputtered before saying, "It's Valentine's Day! Don't you believe in love?"
Ray shrugged as an image of Stella flashed into his mind. He hadn't been thinking of her as much lately, but sometimes she would suddenly appear and punch him in the gut.
Turnbull shook his head sadly. "Love does exist, Ray."
"If you say so..."
Turnbull looked at the figurines in his hands once more, then threaded his way through the shelves still holding them. Ray was going to follow him when something made him stop. For some reason he couldn't fathom, he went up to the shelf and palmed the small, cold fairy. He just couldn't leave her in the store.
Without stopping to analyze this, he followed Turnbull's retreating back.
XXX
Meg Thatcher was tired. She wasn't even the baby's mother, she was just a friend helping out, and she felt as if she'd been up for days. All-nighters at the Consulate were not half as tiring as helping Nancy chase a room full toddlers and preschoolers. The children seemed to be everywhere and, with even twice the amount of adults that were actually in the house, they still would have needed eyes in the backs of their heads.
She sighed as she reached down and caught one screaming body as it tried to streak by into Nancy's 'no children' zone.
The child wiggled good naturedly, so Meg turned her around and pointed her in the direction of the kitchen.
"It's almost time for cake, Amber."
"Choc'lit?"
"I believe so."
The child changed course and restarted her banshee-like, joyful screaming as she headed for the promise of cake.
Meg couldn't stop the amused smile that came to her face as she followed the rambunctious child.
The others were already gathered in the kitchen, fifteen children and five adults. Nancy stood by the sideboard with her daughter Joy in her arms. The baby was rosy-cheeked with sleepy, droopy eyes and soft blond hair. Her mom bounced her absently, and Meg felt a faint pang of jealousy. She didn't let it show on her face as she met Nancy's eyes across the room.
"I found another one."
"Great. I think that's everyone." Nancy's eyes slid over the group as she did a quick head count.
"Is everyone ready for cake?"
There was a chorus of excited "yeses".
Meg went over to Nancy and asked, "Would you like me to hold Joy?"
"Would you?" She held out the baby, and Meg took her with practiced ease.
"Meg," the baby said happily, and Meg kissed her cheek.
"Hello, Sweetheart."
Just a year ago, Meg had known nothing about babies, though she longed to have one. Through her friendship with Nancy, she had slowly become wiser and more comfortable.
Once Nancy had passed Joy to Meg, she lit the big candle-a bear holding a giant number one- in the middle of the cake. Meg brought Joy over to her high chair and settled her in as the kids sang and shouted the words to "Happy Birthday". By the time Nancy reached the high chair with the cake, they were all watching it with shining eyes.
The blowing out of the candle was a big affair, with children yelling encouragement. Despite this, Joy seemed more interested in playing with the frosting than anything else. In the end, her cousin Rory was called from the crowd to help. He did so, proudly showing off to his friends before letting out a great gust of air that ruffled Joy's hair. As the candle sputtered and went out, the kids all clapped and cheered, including Joy, though Meg doubted the baby knew what was going on.
Nancy's sister, Rose, came up to her and offered, "I'll cut the cake for you. You look exhausted."
"Thanks." Nancy smiled gratefully.
As Rose spirited the cake away, Meg ran her hand over the top of Joy's head. "I can't believe she's a year old already. It seems like just yesterday I was buying that Mr. Feed Me machine."
Nancy raised her eyebrows. "Mr. Feed Me?"
"Or something like that." Meg shook her head. "On the advice of a friend, I returned it."
"So, when are you going to finally break down and have some little ones of your own? You're so good with Joy."
Meg felt a stab of pain, and she had to look away from her friend's inquiring gaze. "I don't know. I have zero prospects in the romance department. I work too hard to meet anyone."
"And?" Nancy put a hand on Meg's arm. "What's wrong?"
"My adoption application was denied." It had been a couple of months, and she knew she should be over it by now, but it still hurt. "I failed the home inspection."
"I'm so sorry, Meg." She drew her out of the kitchen away from the many sets of ears. "What happened?"
Meg shrugged, letting her familiar mask of cool detachment come to her face. "They said my career was too high risk for a single parent."
"Being a diplomat?" Nancy drew her brow down in puzzlement.
"No, being a member of the RCMP. I'm a police officer, Nancy."
She chewed her lip and gave Meg an apologetic look. "That's right...Sometimes I forget."
Meg couldn't quite keep the sadness out of her voice as she admitted, "Yeah. Me too."
XXX
On Saturday, February 13th, Ray Kowalski woke up with a plan. It had been a fragment of an amusing thought when he went to sleep, but by morning it had blossomed and bloomed.
As he lay in bed staring at the ceiling, he smiled. Why wonder what the Ice Queen's reaction to a secret admirer would be when he had the power to find out? It wouldn't be that hard to mix an anonymous card and note in with the Consulate mail. The only tricky part would be making sure he was there when she received it. Even if he didn't get to see her open it, it would be fun to see her puzzling over the strange envelope. Maybe he'd even get to tease her about it a little. Of course, he thought, frowning, he'd never let her know it was from him or that it wasn't from a real admirer. If he went through with this, he would be doing it for amusement, not to hurt her feelings. He knew she had them in there somewhere, and Ray wasn't the type to purposefully hurt a woman. If she never found out the sentiment wasn't real, no harm would be done.
The first thing he had to do was find a card. It couldn't be too sappy or the funny one he'd normally buy. To sell it, he had to make the whole thing seem real. That meant he had to find a card as elegant and classy as she was. There were a lot of negative things that he could say about the Inspector, but he had to admit that she was pretty and she oozed class. She was like that rich movie star you saw on TV entertainment news—elegant, remote, and willing to slap a restraining order on you if you tried to touch her.
He'd buy some new paper too. Maybe something that was a light pink and smelled nice.
As he dressed, he thought about what the note should say. If it were going to be signed from him, he probably would have said something silly like, "I wonder if your skin is as cold as the ice in your eyes," or "Your glare freezes my heart," or even, "If I'm really bad, will you spank me?"
By the time he was pulling up his pants, he was laughing so hard he almost tripped.
Of course, those words wouldn't do if the note were coming from someone who had fallen in love with her from across a crowded room. They had to be simple and as close to true as he could make them. That left him with elegant, classy, and pretty.
Most women liked being told they were pretty, he told himself, and the Inspector was more than a little pretty. Enough so that saying beautiful wouldn't really be a stretch. Not that he had noticed.
"I suppose I could always comment on the perfection of her ass," he mumbled to himself. Not that he had noticed that either.
The ice fairy stared at him accusingly from his dresser.