Title: Jumping

Author: Tu

Rating: Pg 13/ R (language)

Season: Any

Disclaimer: I don't own Due South. And I'm broke, so please don't sue me.

Author's Notes: This is a work in progress. All the characters not on the show belong to me. The story takes place after Call of The Wild. Both Ray's are present, as well ass Fraser Sr. popping in from time to time. Fraser has also been promoted for Constable to a Corporal. This story hasn't been betaed so all mistakes are mine. Reviews are welcome.

Fraser skidded to a halt and looked over the cliff. The water below churned and frothed as it slammed against the rocks. Behind him, he could hear the sounds of his pursuers getting closer and closer. Fraser looked around him for another means of escape. He could see the frayed ends of the old rope bridge hanging down the other side of the cliff. He ducked as a bullet whizzed past his ear. He knew he would have to jump. Fraser drew in a deep breath as he calculated the odds of surviving the jump unharmed. Fraser turned as his pursuers burst forth from the forest. He stumbled backwards toward the edge of the cliff. He's eyes widened in shock at the two men at the front of the group. He opened his mouth to speak, just as he ran out of ground and tumbled over the edge of the cliff. He looked up helplessly as he fell down. Looking at…

A wet nose and a wimpered awoke him. Fraser bolted up from sleep. He threw his legs over the edge of his bed and thrust his head into his hands. Drawing in deep ragged breaths, he tried to calm down. He knew it was only a dream, yet he was still shaken. For the last few days he had been having the same dream, over and over again. He was always running from a group of pursuers. In the dream the same two men would come forward from the group. And just as he was about to say whom the two men where, he would fall of something, and awaken. Fraser knew that the dreams had meaning in his everyday life, but he was reluctant to delve deeper into what they may mean. Fraser sighed as Dief shoved his head between his arms and licked his face.

"I'm fine. It was just a dream."

Dief pushed his arm and whined.

"No, I'm sure I'm fine. This is just a temporary problem."

Dief barked sharply at him and pawed his arm.

"No, I don't need to talk to Ray about it. And, frankly, I wish you would respect my wishes and stop trying to tell him about it."

Dief turned his head and looked at him.

"Don't give me that, you and I both know you've been trying to get him to say something for the last week."

Dief turned and lay down in a huff on his blanket.

"Don't sulk."

Fraser pushed off his bed, and made his way over to the window. Pulling back the curtain, he winched as the light from outside streamed in the small opening. The neon glare of the dinner sigh across the street filled the room. Fraser sighed as he looked out upon the street. Chicago, was just as loud, dirty, bright, and dizzying as he rembered. He hated that his new apartment didn't have access to the roof via a fire escape. He missed the quite of the Consulate at night.

The nine months away had been a godsend. As he and Ray had searched for 'the Hand Of Franklin', both had been able to forget the past and heal the wounds that ran through their lives. After five months of trekking across the Northwest Territory, Ray had returned to Chicago, and Fraser had headed to Toronto for Muldoon's trial. For four months, he had worked at the main RCMP Headquarters as he awaited the guilty verdict on Muldoon. A part of him knew, that although Muldoon had admitted to murdering his mother, he would more than likely never stand trial for her murder. After all, in the eyes of the law, the attempted murder of hundred's of thousand's out weighed the death of one woman years ago. Sergeant Frobisher had tried to make him feel better by saying that Muldoon would pay for his mothers death, but both knew the odds were that Caroline Fraser's murder would go un punished. Fraser had felt a sense of justice, when Muldoon had been sentenced to multiple-life sentances with out the possibility of parole. It seemed as if, for the first time in three years, Fraser's life was back in his own hands. He should have known better. Not two days after Muldoon was sentenced, Fraser was standing in the office of Inspector John O'Neill.

Fraser stood before the desk of Inspector O'Neill and waited for his new posting. The man had yet to look up at him and acknowledge his presence. From the stacks of files on his desk, Fraser knew that he had a lot of applicants to go through.

"Corporal Benton Fraser. Says here that you were first in your class. Multiple honors, citations and medals. Extremely high arrest record and case clossier record. Stationed mostly in the Territory, I see. Extremely well versed in local customs and well loved by the locals." O'Neill said looking over his records," Is this correct, Corporal? You have a wolf for a partner?" O'Neill looked up at him.

"Yes, Sir."

"I see." O'Neill looked Fraser up and down, frowning at him. "According to Inspector Thatcher, you are, and I quote 'an asset to the Royal Canadian Mounted Police. As well as an asset to the essential workings of the relationship between Canada and the state of Illinois, as well as the Chicago Police.' I also have a glowing letter of recommendation from a Lieutenant Harding Walsh, as well as letters from the Mayor of Chicago and the Lieutenant Govener of Illinois. Not to mention summaries of the multitude of letters the RCMP and Canadian Consulate have revived praising you. It seems that you are extremely well liked in Chicago."

O'Neill leaned back and laced his fingers together. He looked at Fraser and sighed." That being said, Corporal Fraser, I am at a bit of a loss about what to do with you. Your last posting here in Canada does not want you. No station anywhere in Canada wants you. There are no openings here. None of the Consulates want you. In truth, it seems that only Chicago wants you. It seems that no one has forgotten that you turned in one of your own, not once but twice. True the Gerard tried to run, but most think you should have just let him. I knew your father, in a sense. We went to the Academy together. He was a fine man, and a fine Mountie. You are just like him. Both of you are cut from the same cloth.

Both putting duty above all else, family, your own safety. You, son, truly are the last of a breed. Sadly, you're also becoming a dinosaur. These kids today, would never track a man for days on end."

O'Neill sighed and picked up his pen. "I'm sorry, Corporal, but I have no choice but to send you back to Chicago. Sadly, the man sent to replace Inspector Thatcher is not going to like you. Inspector Thaddeus Raines is one mean, backstabbing, ass kissing, son of a bitch. He has made no bones about the fact that he thinks you're a discrace to the force. He was in the group that tried to get you fired, after you brought Gerard in. Then when you started helping the Chicago Police department, his group wanted you reprimanded. The shooting incident didn't help you any. In his eyes, you're a loose cannon that the RCMP needs to cut loose. He look's at you as, and I quote,' an offence to the good name and reputation of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police and should be dealt with in a harsh and swift manner'."

"I see. Sir, if I may ask, why is Inspector Raines in Chicago?" Fraser asked.

"The same thing you are, Corporal. He's been, for lack of a better word, exsciled to Chicago. The good Inspector crossed the wrong people and was sent there to cool his heals. You on the other hand were a victim of politics of the worst kind. While you have excelled and adapted to your situation, Raines will direct all his anger and hate at you and the other men under his command. The fact that Chicago is the only place I can send you is a minor thing. Lt. Walsh has asked for your continued collaboration with the 27th presinct and has been granted it by the RCMP. Raines can't do anything about that."

O'Neill grabbed a stack of folders and handed them to Fraser. "These are e the new Constables assignee to Chicago. There are ten in all. Two of them have had other postings. The rest are fresh out of the Academy. It seems, Corporal, that you and the Chicago Consult have become a sort of hot spot for Mounties. There has been an increase in request for postings there. It seems that these young individuals think that they can be, in a sense you. Raines will eat them alive. That is why I need you in Chicago."

'Understood, Sir." Fraser tucked the files under his arm.

"Benton, I am truly sorry about this. I know you were hoping for a posting in the Territory. As mush as you may hate to hear this, it will take time. At least you have people who want you in Chicago." O'Neill waved him out of the room.

O'Neill had not been kidding. Inspector Thaddeus Raines had not even finished unpacking his office, when he told Fraser what he though of him and what he wanted to do with him. Raines had also managed to insult every contact, suppler, and pretty much anyone and everyone who had dealings with the Consulate, with in a week of his arrival.

He had banned any members of the Chicago Police department form the premises unless investigating a crime. Ray had not taken this well. He had tried to bann Diefenbaker but had run into a problem. O'Neill had listed Diefenbaker as a member of the RCMPCanine Division. He had turned the entire 27th against him in a matter of moments when he insulted Fraser in front of them. He had banned any member of the RCMP from 'inhabiting' the Consulate. So Fraser had had to find a new home.

tbc