A/N:It was bound to happen and here it is: my first Due South Fic. Not entirely new to writing fanfics, though. What can I say? I loved Due South when it ran for the first time (waaaay back in the nineties), and I love it to this very day. Every now and then there are reruns of it on tv.

The usual disclaimer: I don'town the characters, not making any profit,blablablabla. On with the story.

Oh, before I forget: I'm writing English but my genes are Dutch, if you see anything that's not correct (grammar/syntax etc.) let me know. Thank you kindly for reading. Hope you'll like it.



An Unwieldy Matter


The man in worn-down clothes stumbled a little as he pushed his litter-filled trolley forwards. Somewhat unsteady it veered off course and it hit something. The gray bearded drunkard controlling it looked to see what had caused the obstruction. Muttering something barely audible he took a sip of the bottle of liquor he was holding. He blurred eyesight could just make out a red blur with brownish and black tints. He decided to take a closer look and swayed round the trolley to have a gander.

'I know you', he said as he stood in front. He took another sip while spilling some of the content of the bottle. It streamed down the corners of his mouth. He wiped it away with the back of his hand. The motion made him sway even more and he lost balance and tipped over and landed with his face on the red, woolen tunic.

'Well, damn, 'cho problem?' He squinted his eyes a little. 'You one of them Canadians...', he stated and started poking with his finger on the chest of Constable Benton Fraser of the RCMP, who stood guard outside the Canadian Consulate. The drunkard started pulling on his Sam Browne. 'You with the horsies, where's the horse now...'

The Mountie didn't move.

The drunk bum got a little confused, took another sip and started to yank at his arm. 'Those Canadians, funny though...could have sworn this one's alive...'


oOo


He was rudely interrupted when a green '71 Buick Riviera pulled up, and honked.

Detective Ray Vecchio got out.

'Bennie, how are things today', he started talking even before he was fully out of the car. 'Entertaining the low lives again?' Ray looked at the drunk bum whose clutched the Mountie's arm. 'Thisssis my one... you find y'own.'

'Hey, smartass, look around, this ain't Ottawa.'

'S-so...'

'Mounties aren't exactly on every street corner in Chicago, finding another will be difficult. And I know him longer than you have. So get lost. Besides he won't say anything.'

'He ain't real...'

'He's standing guard. What for I don't know, but it's his job. He gets paid to do this. Must be something Canadian.'

The drunk bum started to poke Fraser. 'Don't know though, this might be some statue...'

Ray couldn't really deny Fraser did indeed seem like a statue. 'Sure and I'm taking this statue with me to the station.'

'What for?'

'Public offense. His Canadian toes are on American soil.' The bum looked at Rayas ifhe saw water burning. Ray shook out a Wrigley chewing gum and started to unfold the package. Then he stuffed it in his mouth and looked at the drunkard with a bored look.

'Okay. Let's make a deal. If I tell you that in exactly five minutes this one's alive, you beat it?'

'S-sure'


oOo


Then the clock struck noon and Fraser turned to Ray. 'Standing guard is not entirely ceremonial, in fact it serves quite a number of purposes, like safety for instance...'

'You have to protect the consulate?'

'Well, naturally. As a part of Canada, I'm obliged as a member of the RCMP to make sure those inside and concerned with are safe.'

'Like someone would attack the Canadian Consulate', Ray commented. 'Hey, bum. We had a deal.' The drunkard just stared at them, wide-eyed and decided to take the whole bottle at once and get on his way fast, stumbling while he hurried away..

'I do recollect in 1997 there was an incident in Reykjavik where there was a breach of security into the premises...', Fraser continued.

'What, an Ice Bear got hot headed and stormed in?'

'Well, no, Ray. It was actually a reindeer, but...'

'That's not a breach of security, Bennie.'

'It's an approximation...'

'No, Bennie it's not. It's a moose running through the garden.'

'Reindeer', Fraser corrected.

'Whatever. It's not like this reindeer had some grudge against Canadians, besides reindeer don't pack guns.'

'It nevertheless called for immediate attention to prevent further escalation.' Ray rubbed his brow. 'Can we go now?'

Fraser nodded. 'My shift has ended...'

'So we can go?'

'We could, yes. Whereto anyway?'

'Somewhere more thrilling than standing rock solid in front of a building and functioning as some drunk wino's punch bag', Ray added.

'It does serve other purposes I can explain, for instance...'

'Bennie?'

'What, Ray?'

'I don't care, just go.'

'Understood.'


oOo


He walked towards Ray's car. 'My Canadian toes were on American soil?'

'What?'

'You said my toes where on American soil.'

'I had to make something up.'

'Ah, Understood.'

Ray turned the ignition key of his car and drove off. 'And they were.' Fraser looked at him confused. 'Your toes', Ray clarified.

'I see.'

'That's your answer? I see?'

'I think 'I see' is a perfectly appropriate answer to it, Ray.'

'No, it means a whole lot more. You never say 'I see' without meaning something else.'

'I see...'

'There, you're doing it again. This is not a neutral 'I see'...'

'Red light, Ray...'

Ray yanked at the steering wheel to take a sharp right turn. Other cars pressing their horns, screaming brakes. 'Where?'

Fraser was quite uncomfortably pulled from the left to the right with this sudden move. 'About thirty, make it forty meters back.'

'Seems like I missed it', Ray said.

'Yes, apparently you did.'

'I'll be more careful in the future.'


oOo


Finally they made it to the station, and walked into the bureau. Fraser rubbed his brow somewhat with his hand while the other one held his Stetson behind his back as they walked through the hall.

'Just out of curiosity, why would my toes be bothering the American Public?'

'Bennie, they weren't. It was something I made up. You know what? Forget what I said about your toes. There's nothing wrong with your toes and they are more than welcome to step on American Soil.'

'Thank you kindly.'

As soon as they stepped into the bureau Francesca was at Fraser's side. 'Say, Ben, you don't happen to have anything planned for tonight would you?'

Fraser rubbed his brow again. 'Not that I'm aware of, no.'

'How does just the two of us sound, you know candlelight, Ossobuco al Funghi, you in that red serge, me in, well...something suiting. Nothing ordinary, I mean, not that there's something wrong with ordinary, it's just...'

'Common?', Fraser offered. Francesca's face lit up. 'Yes, common. That's not what it should be.'

'I see.'

'Well?'

'Well, what?'

'How does it sound?'

'It sounds like a bad plan Frannie', Ray cut through. 'A really bad plan.'

'I was asking Fraser.' Francesca's face was annoyed.

'And I'm answering it.'

'What, you're his spokesman now?'

'In matters like this, yes. And in any other matter probably too.'

Francesca rolled her eyes and walked away.

'Thank you kindly, Ray.'

'Anytime, Bennie.' It was then the door of Lieutenant Welsh' office swung open. 'Vecchio, I need you here, now. And bring the Mountie.'