Hi,

Just a couple of quick things. Firstly this is my first ever Due South story so reviews would be really appreciated. Also this story has not yet been beta read.

My disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with Due South. But oh a girl can dream! :D

Enjoy!

Saying Goodbye

"Benny they're gonna ask me for my shield".

Nine Years. I've worked my ass off for nine years for what? For damn near nothing that's what. One mistake and it's all over. How could I have been so stupid? For her in that moment I'd have done anything.

God I wish I could be more like Benny. He'd never have done this for a woman. Benny? Oh good going Vecchio! Ruined your Career, made yourself a laughing stock and lost the best damn partner you've ever had. I'm gonna miss him. He has to be the most infuriating, annoying, irritating man I've ever known. But it's the damndest thing. Before him I was a loudmouth cop that thought he was the best Chicago had to offer. Man, I was arrogant back then. Benny didn't just help me get my massive ego back under control. He showed me what a good cop looks like, taught me to be a better person. He's put my life in danger more times than I can count. Never asks me about it; just does it. But it's the weirdest thing. There's no-one else I trust like I trust Benny. I can't explain it. But I think I'd follow just about anyplace he led. I never would have guessed it then. But asking him back to my place for one of Ma's home cooked feasts the first day we met turned out to be one of the best decisions I've ever made. I wonder how he sees it. Guess I'll never know now…

What am I gonna do? I'm a cop! My whole adult life I've been a cop. It's all I've ever wanted to be. Where do I go from here? This morning I could imagine my life 10…20 years from now. A few more lines on my face, a few less hairs on top and a few more grey round the sides, the Riv parked at the side of the road, you know been around a bit but still looking like the perfect lady she is, Benny immaculate in his Mountie uniform and that damn hat, the only nod to the last 20 years a slight grey tinge to the hair at his temples; Dief (God love him) long gone but his kid (maybe even grandkid) a little rounder and a little slower but still indulging in his favourite fast food crap….cheeseburgers, but most of all the three of us still putting away every kind of creep, low life and scum from where ever we could find 'um. Now that's all gone. Now all I can see is a big black nothing…

Benny tells me he's sorry. Sorry? Like that's gonna help. He doesn't say anything, why doesn't he say anything? Scream at me, shout at me, tell me how incredibly stupid I've been, cos he's Benny that's why. Understated, Stoic, Strong, God so many words I could use to describe him, but not a one that would really do him justice. How am I gonna say goodbye to him, to any of them? Trying to imagine walking out of the precinct for the last time is hard enough. The chewing out to end all chewing outs in Walsh's office, packing up my desk in an old, crappy cardboard box that stinks of stale liquor and musty files (the remnants of the case evidence that used to reside there), the long, slow walk through the office, dozens of pairs of eyes on me, boring into my back, the pity and awkwardness tangible but no one says a word. Nine years of nothing coming to a stark and silent end...

It scares me just thinking about it. But saying goodbye to him…is almost unthinkable. So much I'd like him to know. How much he has changed me, how much I value his friendship, how much I respect him as a cop and as a man, how much I'll miss him. God so much to say but I can't even put the first sentence together. I've always had something to say, usually a load of crap to try and talk my way out of what ever trouble I was in. Even so words have never failed me. So why now when I need them the most are they hardest to find? I know I have to get in the Riv, go back to the office. But I can't make my legs move. It's like my body knows how much I don't wanna do this and is blocking me from getting in the Riv...

Geez the number of times I've been on the Carpet in Walsh's office you'd think I'd be used to it by now. All of the times I've looked down the nasty end of some punk's 45 special, all the times I've been on a date, trying to melt a woman's heart with the old Vecchio charm and walked away solo after a right hook to the jaw, all the times I had to go looking for my waster of a dad three sheets to the wind down the pool hall, and my body chooses now to develop fear provoked paralysis. Go Figure! I guess I'd better go face the music. This is it Vecchio; now or never, SAY SOMETHING…..

"Benny… there's something I gotta say."