These hours of the day were by far the most peaceful, Fraser thought as he absentmindedly meandered down the crowded streets. Walking home from work with the thoughts of dinner and a comfortable night in his small yet cozy apartment....SMACK.

His thoughts were interrupted as he felt himself smash into another person. "Oh dear, I am so sorry," he said hurriedly, as he steadied himself.

The woman had shiny, wavy, pale blonde hair, and she was kneeling down to pick up several fallen books that had been scattered on the pavement. She mumbled something incomprehensible.

"Allow me," Fraser said quickly, bending down to help her, but to his dismay they collided again.

"Ow," she muttered, turning away from him so he could not see her face.

"I am so sorry ma'am." Fraser said desperately, blushing with embarrassment. "I was just trying to help."

"Yeah, well," she grumbled. "A lot of help that did."

As she turned towards him, a slightly sarcastic smile on her face, Fraser was suddenly hit by a rush of emotions which he could not begin to make out.

"Oh my god," she said slowly, as her wide silvery blue eyes took him in.

"I-" he started, but he found that he could not speak.

"You-"

"Are you-?"

"We'd better stand up," she said quickly, grabbing the books and getting to her feet.

He nodded and did the same. "Would you-" he gestured hopelessly towards a cafe a few feet away.

She nodded and followed him.

They sat down at the only vacant table, and for a long moment simply looked at each other.

"You look exactly the same," the woman said slowly.

"So do you."

"I can't believe this."

"Me'n either," he said weakly. "I never thought I'd see you again."

"Benton Fraser," she said slowly. "What in the world are you doing in a place like this?"

"Well, I'm actually here to try and figure out if you're who I think you are, because given the circumstances, it appears to be rather impossible."

"No, I mean, what are you doing in Chicago?"

"Oh," Fraser said. "Well, I first came to Chicago on the trail of the killers of my father, and for reasons that don't need exploring at this juncture I've remained, attached as liaison with the Canadian Consulate."

As she threw back her head, laughing, Fraser couldn't help but notice how attractive she really was. Her hair was like corn silk, and her eyes such a distinctive color.

"You always did have a way with words, Ben."

He laughed weakly. "It's good to see you, Cheyenne. Surprising, but good."

"Yeah," she smiled warmly. "Similar sentiments my friend."

"How have you been doing?" Fraser asked, making a stab at a normal conversation.

"Oh you know," she said casually. "I've been good, but sort of nomadic really. I've moved five times within the past two years."

"That must be difficult," Fraser answered.

"A little," she smiled, scrutinizing him with those penetrating eyes.

Fraser coughed, suddenly feeling awkward. "Have you moved here, or are you just visiting?"

"Visiting," she said vaguely. "I used to come to Chicago sometimes when I was a little girl. I'd been planning on coming back for a while now."

"Ah," Fraser said, twisting his hands in his lap. "And where are you staying?"

"Actually, nowhere," Cheyenne said, grinning. "I just got here today. I'll probably check into a hotel later this afternoon, although I really wouldn't mind if you invited me to stay with you."

He laughed, amused. "You're still as witty as ever," he said fondly. "And of course you can stay with me. I would expect nothing less."

"Thank you kindly." She said, imitating him.

He grinned. "I don't know if you'll approve of my living conditions though. My apartment is a constantly being ridiculed by others, and I must confess that it is not very grand."

"Oh, it'll do I'm sure," she said, waving a hand through the air. "I find myself sleeping in my truck a lot lately, so it should be quite fantastic."

"You still have the truck?" Fraser asked, smiling fondly as he remembered the old beat up red pick up truck.

"Oh yes," she grinned. "And it breaks down just as much as it used to, if not more."
"Where are you parked? We can drive up to my apartment. There's a complex nearby."
"Just around the corner. I was actually on my way to the car when you so rudely ran into me." She gazed at him shrewdly.

"Oh," he blushed. She really had always had this way of making him feel uncomfortable. "I am so sorry about that, Cheyenne. I guess I should pay more attention to the direction in which I am going. In the future, I mean."

"Yes, you should," she smiled, getting up. "Come along, Ben. Lets go find my car."