The Consulate ….
I took my lunch out of my insulated bag and walked into the consulate kitchen around eleven-thirty. It was just an ordinary day, the city moving and stretching around the red brick building that's a world of it's own. My footsteps were dulled by the Persian style rugs running the length of the hardwood floors into the back of the consulate. The smell of lemon Pledge greeted me as I went along my way towards lunch.
The kitchen was a rather bland affair, with stainless steel, industrial appliances for consulate events. At the window above the sinks hung a pair of curtains with sunflowers and red roosters on them, the only color in the room.
"I should have had the decorator do something in here as well." I thought as I flipped on the lights. With a sigh, I took a sauce pan from the bottom cabinet, opened a can of vegetable soup and poured it in the pan to set on the stove. When I turned the knob on the stove the light overhead went out, as did the clock on the microwave.
"Blasted, I should have hired a more reputable company." I growled as I remembered the bids the electricians had given me when we moved into the new consulate building.
Quickly, I turned off the stove and strode back through the consulate to Constable Benton Fraser's door. Of my two, subordinate officers, he was the one I thought most capable of fixing the problem. His wide range of skills amazed me regularly.
"Constable Fraser, I believe there's a fuse blown in the fuse box, would you look into it?" I spoke as he paused typing his usual set of reports. Fraser stood up like he'd been sitting on a spring board when he heard my voice. He seemed to fill every bit of the small space with his broad shoulders and masked nervousness. I tried to remember I was a Royal Canadian Mounted Police Inspector and not a mushy headed teen when he met my gaze. I had to turn and walk toward the kitchen so he wouldn't see my flaming red face.
"Yes, Sir." He rounded the desk and followed me into the kitchen. I could feel his presence behind me as I walked through the doorway to the kitchen.
"I was about to warm my lunch up when the overhead light and the microwave went dead, it's probably just a fuse." I indicated the sauce pan still sitting on the stove. I watched as Fraser walked over to the fuse box on the wall next to the back door and opened the gray, metal lid. To distract myself, I dug around in the kitchen drawers until I came up with a small flash light. I checked the beam before crossing the room to where Fraser stood studying the various breakers and the labels along side them.
"Here, Fraser." I handed him the flashlight. Turning, he met my gaze, his light eyes locking on mine. We didn't speak for a moment, each of us holding an end of the hard, plastic flashlight.
"Thank you kindly, Ma'am." He said finally, taking the flashlight before he turned to examine the breakers again. It was all Greek to me so I kept silent. I knew Fraser well enough to know he'd probably read an electrician's guidebook from his grandmother's library. I don't think there was a subject he hadn't read something about.
"Ah, I believe this is the problem." Fraser reached out to flip one of the breakers. I had a bad, nagging feeling about it. Something wasn't right about that breaker. Before I could say anything he touched the breaker, a finger of electricity shooting through him, knocking him backwards into the middle of the kitchen floor, past me. I let out a startled scream. Fraser lay on his back on the cold, marble linoleum, his head turned off to the side. The whole consulate went dark, the only light in the kitchen was a shaft through the small window above the sink.
I crossed the room and knelt down beside Fraser. Training kicked in and I felt for a pulse then listened for his breathing. I couldn't find either. I'd seen him stand absolutely still on sentry duty, but Fraser was too still as he laid there on the linoleum. Quickly, I unfastened his Sam Brown belt, lanyard and finally his buttons up the front of his tunic. My mind raced, praying he would be alright. Fraser just had to be alright.
"Please, God, don't take him, not yet." I silently prayed as I gently positioned his head to begin CPR. Moving aside Fraser's uniform, I pinched his nose and began the breathing exercises I'd been taught at countless trainings throughout my career. Then I laced my fingers and began chest compressions, counting as I pressed hard into his warm flesh.
"Inspector Thatcher, what happened?" Turnbull asked when he saw the scene before him on the kitchen floor. I heard his voice, my mind going in a dozen different directions.
"Call for emergency services." I demanded between counts, every once of my strength and concentration going saving Fraser. When Turnbull didn't move I turned back and shouted. "Now, call now!" Quickly, the junior Mountie ran out of the kitchen back to the nearest phone. Part of me was glad he was gone, I couldn't handle CPR and Turnbull too.
"Come on, Fraser, fight, you're tougher than this." I begged, tears beginning to gather in my dark eyes. After a second round of breaths I moved to chest compressions again. Fraser groaned, turning his head to one side, towards me. I've never been more glad to see those beautiful eyes than that moment.
"That's it, Fraser, come back to me, stay with me." I checked his pulse and respiration again, my hands shaking like an earthquake. He looked up at me, his eyes blinking as he tried hard to focus. He groaned like he'd been kicked in the chest by a big, Clydesdale horse.
"You're alright, Fraser, an ambulance is on the way." I began stroking his forehead with my fingertips, my tears streaming down my cheeks. I felt so relieved to feel his strong heartbeat and hear his breathing.
"What happened, are you alright, Inspector?" Fraser turned to look at me, his face paler than fresh snow. When he tried to move I helped lift his shoulders. All I could do at first was nod my head like a ninny.
"I'm fine, Constable, you were the one who was shocked." I helped him scoot over to the heavy, oak work table in the middle of the kitchen where he could lean against the leg for support. Fraser rubbed his forehead with the heel of his hand, taking a ragged breath.
"Inspector Thatcher, emergency services are en route." Turnbull's voice could be heard before he reached the kitchen. Diefenbaker was on his heels. I brushed the worst of my tears away from my face, trying to regain my composure. My stomach was in knots and my hands still shook.
"Go outside and flag them down, Constable." I instructed, still kneeling beside Fraser. Dief came to sit beside his human, his head on Fraser's lap.
"Yes, Sir." The junior Mountie took off at top speed for the front door. Turnbull's thunderous steps slammed against the floor as he ran for the front door.
"I'm fine, Inspector, there's no need for an ambulance." Fraser tried to push himself up but I laid one hand on his shoulder to keep him in place. I was willing to take his own lanyard and hog tie him if necessary to get him to the emergency room.
"Fraser, please," I said quietly, tears still spilling down my cheeks but more slowly. "I'll make it an order if I have to." I met his gaze, begging him to listen to me.
"Understood." He let the corner of his lips twitch into a smile. I ran the back of my hand over my cheeks to smear the worst of her tears away. Gently, Fraser reached up and ran his thumb over my cheekbone, nudging the liquid crystal away from my lashes. I pressed my face against his palm, relieved that he was alright. Time stood still as I felt his calloused hand against my cheek.
"Hello, someone called for an ambulance?" A strange, male voice called from somewhere beyond the kitchen. I jumped at the sound, feeling like I'd been caught with my hand in the cookie jar.
"Straight back this way." I felt Fraser's hand move from my cheek as they approached. I was sorry to feel the warmth of his touch leave my skin.
Two men wearing dark, fatigue style pants and blue polo shirts with EMT printed across the chest walked into the kitchen. They set their medical kits down on the linoleum floor. They were a welcome sight.
"Hey, I'm Eric, this is my partner Jason." The eldest of the men introduced the two of them.
"This is Constable Benton Fraser, I'm Inspector Thatcher." I introduced while the younger EMT began pulling out the necessary equipment.
"What happened, Inspector?" Eric asked, trying to distract me from watching as the other EMT took Fraser's pulse and listened to his heartbeat. I was calmer but my hands were still shaking and most likely pale.
Quickly, I recounted the story while the other EMT, Jason, took care of Fraser. I kept trying to look over Eric's shoulder but he kept moving. Turnbull hovered in the doorway near the fuse box and Diefenbaker sat beside the refrigerator, his amber eyes taking in everything. He whined when he saw them help Fraser onto a gurney.
"Constable Turnbull, call an electrician and wait until they arrive, I'm going to the hospital with Fraser." No way were they leaving without me. I had managed to calm down, my brain taking over after the adrenaline rush.
"Inspector, that isn't necessary, I'll call Detective Ray to collect me once I'm discharged." Fraser protested. I gave him my best authoritative glare. Fraser knew I'd over rule him if he pushed. He simply nodded and laid back on the gurney. Confident, I strode through the consulate behind him.
The Emergency Room ….
I had walked from one end of the hallway between admissions and the double doors leading into the emergency room a hundred times as they examined Fraser. I knew every crack and speck in the tile flooring. The walls of the waiting room were painted a sky blue. In the corner of the room a television played some half hour comedy I'd never seen and wasn't interested in watching.
No one had told me anything about Fraser's condition since I'd gotten there and I wasn't leaving until I knew he was alright. That was part of their job but that didn't make it any less frustrating. I couldn't get the image of Fraser lying on his back in the middle of the floor, his face pale and his pulse nearly gone. My hands shook for a while after arriving at the hospital.
"You can go inside and see him now." A thirty-something nurse tapped me on the shoulder, startling me.
"Oh, thank you." I whirled around and followed the nurse through the double doors. Fraser sat on the side of the bed, his undershirt on and his uniform pants. His red serge lay across a chair and his boots sat beside it. Relief filled me, he looked pale but much better.
"Inspector Thatcher." Fraser straightened up when he saw me enter the exam room. He slid off the bed and stood at parade rest, his feet bare. It was absurd but I didn't care, he looked like a million dollars to me.
"Good to see you back on your feet, Constable Fraser." I greeted him, noting how pale he still seemed.
"Good feet to be on, Sir." He squeezed his eyes shut a moment. Was it me or was it the jolt of electricity?
"Have you been released yet?" I asked, a smile darting across my features at his mistake.
"Yes, as soon as the paperwork arrives." Fraser looked from me to his boots sitting a little over a yard away.
"Sit down, Constable." I ordered then handed him his tunic off the chair before taking a seat. After sitting, I scooted his boots over to him. They were heavier than my high browns and softer to the touch from daily wear.
"They're twice the size of mine, of course they'd be heavier." I thought to myself as I set them down. "I wonder if he'd take care of me as well as he takes care of his boots?" The stray thought crossed my mind before I could stop it. I shook my head as if to dispel the thought. To let it linger would have been painful.
"Excuse me, if you'll just sign this you'll be ready to go." The nurse I had met earlier said with a weary smile. She seemed tired and ready to leave for the day. Fraser signed his name across the lines with an X beside them and handed the clipboard back to her.
"Do you have someone coming to pick you up, Constable?" She asked, looking from him to me.
"Yes, Detective Vecchio should be here momentarily." Fraser answered.
I turned away at the detective's name, I'd heard the way Ray called me the 'Dragon Lady', or 'Ice Princess', and 'Snow Queen'. I guess I deserved it but I still didn't like it.
"Hey, Benny, how you doin' ?" The detective called as soon as he found his way through the ER doors. He looked a bit surprised when he saw me sitting beside the hospital bed.
"I'm fine, thank you for asking, Ray." Fraser answered, tying his boot.
"You ready to get out of here?" The detective hitched his thumb over his shoulder, his car keys in his hand.
"Yes, please." Fraser's light eyes lit up. Like me, I'm sure he'd had enough of hospitals to last a lifetime during his career.
"Let's go, Diefenbaker's in the back seat waitin." Ray felt a bit anxious about his pristine interior when the wolf was around. He'd probably promised the fur ball a crème horn if he'd behave. I'd done the same on occasion.
"Thank you kindly, Ray, I'm ready when you are." Fraser stood up tepidly, making sure he could stand on his own. I stood up, hoping he wouldn't fall.
"You need a lift, Inspector?" The detective asked magnanimously, turning to me.
"Yes, if it isn't too much trouble, Detective." I nodded, crossing my arms over my chest as I met his blue eyes. Detective Kowalski can be too smug for his own good.
"Sure, no problem, just say where to." The detective shrugged as he swept aside the curtain and started down the hall out of the ER.
Ray kept looking at me in the rear view mirror as we drove from the hospital to the consulate. I imagine I was still pale, I certainly felt pale. Let him wonder, it hadn't been him trying desperately to keep Fraser alive.
Detective Kowalski let me off at my apartment building then took Fraser to the consulate. Fraser kept looking at me with the same worried expression I guess was on my face. I could barely look him in the eye. I couldn't look at him without seeing him lying on the floor. Fraser had almost died and I felt responsible.
Later that evening ….
I sat on the couch, a newscaster saying something about the Bulls and their current record. It all washed over me, I hadn't heard a word of it and wouldn't have cared if I had. All I could think about was Fraser. I'd almost lost him and by something so inane, so stupid, as checking for a blown fuse. I felt guilty. If I'd checked the fuse box myself or called an electrician like I should have, Fraser wouldn't have been hurt.
"I almost lost him." I said to myself as I sat curled up in an arm chair. That thought scared me worse than if Ottawa decided to transfer either of us. Time would be on our side if one of us were transferred.
"I wonder if he's alright?" I thought as I stared straight ahead. On impulse, I stood up and grabbed my keys and purse. I just had to see for myself that Fraser was alright. I didn't care that I was wearing a paint splattered Mickey Mouse sweatshirt or that I'd slipped my feet into a pair of white tennis shoes beneath my faded jeans. I quickly swept my hair away from my eyes with a couple bobby pins.
At the Consulate ….
I tip toed down the main hall of the consulate, just wanting to peek in at Fraser to see if he was alright. Then I planned on going back to my apartment. I didn't turn on the lights, electricity was how this whole thing had started in the first place. I paused at the open door of Fraser's office. I couldn't see anything inside but heard Dief growling low in his throat. When the desk lamp turned on suddenly, I gasped.
"Dief!" Fraser said authoritatively. The wolf turned and went back to his pallet near the cot.
"I didn't mean to wake you, my apologies." I looked around the room then at Fraser who sat with his blanket covering his red long johns. He began to stand up but I shook my head.
"Is there something you needed, Inspector?" Fraser asked, looking me over from head to toe. I guess I looked odd wearing ratty street clothes.
"I came to, um, I came to make certain that you were alright after what happened this morning." I said truthfully. I stood uncertainly in the door way, still clutching my keys. Seeing Fraser in his pajamas made nearly every coherent thought leave my already muddled brain. The only thought left was how good he looked in red.
"I'm tired but otherwise quite well, Inspector, thank you kindly for coming to inquire." I don't imagine it wasn't hard to see my indecision but Fraser didn't let on.
"Is there something else?" The Mountie asked softly, running his thumb behind his ear lobe.
"No, Fraser, nothing, I should leave you to rest now." I felt my insides quiver under his gaze. Those light eyes looked straight through to my heart and I knew it but Fraser would never say anything. I had ordered it that way after all. Not a day went by that I didn't regret that order.
"You're welcome to sit for a minute if you wish, I wanted to thank you." Fraser stirred, pulling out his desk chair for me, his blanket still draped across his lap. I slowly crossed the room and sat down in the swivel chair facing him. I felt like a ninny now that I knew he was alright.
"There's no need to thank me, Fraser, I should have called an electrician." I shook my head, guilt eating at me. I couldn't meet his gaze so I stared at Dief instead. The wolf had laid back down and was snoring softly. I wished I could sleep that easily and soundly.
"I disagree, you had no way of knowing there was a defect in the fuse box." Fraser leaned forward, trying to catch my eye. "The electrical shock may have been too much for another person. You saved my life, Inspector Thatcher, I'm eternally grateful." Fraser watched me a moment, I could feel it. I forced myself to look at him then I took a deep breath before speaking.
"You would have done the same for me if the situation had been reversed." I felt relieved but still guilty. I exhaled a deep breath before I stood up to leave. If I didn't get out of the consulate I knew I'd end up doing something stupid. Part of me wanted to throw my arms around his neck and pull him close.
"You should take tomorrow off to rest and recuperate, Constable Fraser." I swallowed hard and tried to sound like I didn't want to cry.
"May I inquire as to what else is on your mind, Inspector?" Fraser sat up as I pushed his swivel chair beneath the desk. My hands clutched the back of the chair tightly and I stared at his desk blotter for a long moment-frozen. He could read me so easily.
"Perhaps talking will alleviate your anxiety." Fraser gently nudged.
How could I not tell him when he sounded so concerned, so reassuring? I gripped the chair until my fingers turned white. I couldn't believe what I wanted to tell him, the thing I'd been dying to make myself tell him for months.
"I couldn't lose you, Fraser." Words spilled out like water overflowing from a sink. I swallowed, heart hammering. "I realize now how much I would miss you, how much I depend on you." I clamped my jaw shut before completely made a fool of myself. My head spun and I pulled out Fraser's desk chair again. I was determined not to cry, not in front of Fraser, not twice in one day.
"Inspector Thatcher, I'm fine, everything is fine." Fraser got down on his knees in front me.
He took my wrists and gently pulled my hands away from my face. I took deep breaths to remain calm.
"You scared me, I thought you were dead." I said the last word softly, searching Fraser's face. I couldn't maintain a professional demeanor on this one. When Fraser had fallen off the train I hadn't seen his cold, near lifeless body. It hadn't seemed real. I hadn't seen any of his injuries until now.
"That's a natural reaction, Inspector, I'm certain it was traumatic seeing a fellow officer thrown violently across the room." Fraser's logic made me raise a skeptical eye brow. He was taking the naive view.
"Not a fellow officer, Fraser-you." I spread my hands emphatically, wishing I could just blurt it out.
Fraser's eyes widened when he realized what I meant. "Oh, I see." He shifted on his knees, his brows knit.
"I shouldn't have said anything, Fraser, it's time I leave." I started to get up, feeling disappointed but knowing it was to be expected after lowering the boom on him.
"Inspector, sit, please." Fraser raised a hand to delay me. I could see him struggling within himself. I wiped my eyes with my fingertips but I wasn't crying exactly. That would make it harder on both of us and I knew it.
"I," Fraser paused, uncertain, "I, we, we share similar sentiments." He couldn't say it any better than I could. It took me a moment to decode what he'd said. He didn't want to lose me either.
"You're as concerned about me as I am about you?" I asked quietly, leaning forward.
"Yes, more than concerned actually." Fraser admitted, staring intently at me, hope in those beautiful eyes.
"Can I actually tell him how I feel now, will he understand?" I wondered silently as I looked into his crystalline eyes. They reminded me of the clear skies of home, of the wilderness.
"I care for you, Fraser, deeply." I managed, feeling relieved. It was an understatement but there it was, out in the open.
"As do I." The Mountie leaned forward and pulled me against his chest, my head resting against his temple. Fraser smelled so good, he felt so good, so solid against me. He was real and he was alright.
A wash of tears slid down my already chapped cheeks. I slipped her hand up to my face, trying to stem the water works. That's when my hand brushed against his chest and I heard him hiss in pain.
"What, what's wrong?" I pulled away, afraid again.
"Nothing, it's just a bruise." Fraser shook his head as he laid his hand over his heart where my hands had pressed down hard to save his life hours before.
"How did you bruise your chest, Fraser?" I tried to remember what he might have bumped into when he landed on the floor. Nothing sprang to mind.
"CPR often leaves the recipient with bruises." Fraser tried to make it sound light. I knew it must have been a nasty bruise from the way he reacted.
"I did that, I'm so sorry, Fraser." I leaned back against the chair, head tilted back to look at the ceiling.
"A bruise is better than the alternative." Fraser said matter-of-factly.
I let out a dry chuckle. He sounded like he was talking about hockey instead of life and death.
"Did I say something amiss?" The Mountie looked at me like a puppy who'd just been caught chewing on a slipper.
"No, Fraser, it's just that you're the only person I know who'd be so factual about a near death experience." I tried to suppress a laugh but didn't do a very good job of it. I saw the way his eyes sparkled. We both laughed. Afterward was a long, awkward pause.
"May I see the bruise?" I felt bold and shy at the same time. Fraser looked at me in surprise.
"Of course." He began unbuttoning his long johns down to his stomach. Pulling out of one sleeve, I saw the purple and red bruise down the left side of his chest. Timidly, I reached out to touch the edge. I could feel the warmth of his skin beneath my fingertips. Fraser watched my fingers as I outlined the palm sized place. Very gently, I laid my hand where it had been only hours before. His heart beat steadily against my hand. It was hard to breathe, hard to focus as he laid his hand over mine.
"I'm sorry, Fraser." I said quietly, meeting his gaze.
"There's nothing to be sorry for, you saved my life." Ben's voice was quiet and warm, making me a good kind of crazy.
"Um, I should let you rest." I felt the battle between the half of me that was Meg and the half that was Inspector Thatcher.
"My superior officer gave me the day off tomorrow." Fraser smiled, brightening his face. Inspector Thatcher lost the battle. I'd never heard Fraser crack a joke before. He still had his hand over mine.
"You should still rest, Fraser." I was the one who needed the rest. He pulled my hand away from his chest and held it. I'd nearly lost him, lost him forever. I wanted to give in, to take care of him.
"I'm quite recovered." He moved closer, still holding my hand. "Please allow me to thank you." I couldn't breathe, couldn't think or move. With the softest brush of his lips Fraser kissed the back of my hand. It was a good thing I was sitting, because my knees felt like pudding. My mind went back to the train, to the feel of his arms around me even if we were handcuffed together. I don't know what it is about Fraser that makes me breathless, light headed even.
"You're welcome." I managed to whisper. His steady gaze and close proximity made me weak. Fraser stood up on his knees, reaching up with his free hand. I closed my eyes and felt his fingers in my hair, pulling a bobby pin from the front locks.
"You were about to lose this." He pressed the bobby pin to my free hand.
"Oh, I hadn't noticed." I breathed. Looking back, I must have sounded like a ninny. Fraser pushed the stray strand of hair behind my ear, his fingertips tickling.
"You can keep it." I said, sounding like a real simpleton. Fraser smiled. I hung my head, feeling embarrassed.
"It's been an exhausting day for the both of us." He pressed my hand closed around my bobby pin and sat back down.
"It has, hasn't it." I laid my hand against my red and burning cheek.
"Good night and pleasant dreams." Fraser got to his feet, his blanket still in place. I stood up too. Together we stepped to his office door.
"Wait," Fraser said softly, his hand on my forearm to turn me around. When he did I saw hesitation in his features. I met his gaze expectantly. Before I could speak he stepped forward, leaned down for a kiss, turning his head to my left and slipped his arms around me. Our lips met and I I felt myself stumble backward against the door frame. Time stopped, the universe stopped, as we kissed. I could have lost myself for eternity in that kiss, in that perfect moment. I felt a physical ache when Fraser pulled away first.
"Thank you for saving me, Meg." He whispered as he stepped back. If the door frame hadn't been holding me up I would have sank to the floor in a boneless heap. Didn't he realize he saved me everyday? Didn't he see how he affected me? I'd learned so much from Fraser, about life, about myself. I'd never be able to tell him exactly how I felt, there simply weren't words in any language to describe these emotions of admiration, gratitude, love, respect, and hope, to name a few.
"You're welcome, Benton." I whispered in return. Somehow, I made myself walk out of his office and down the hall. I hadn't ordered this 'contact' forgotten, but I knew it wouldn't happen again for a very long time just the same.
Later that night after dressing for bed I looked in the mirror at myself. I still had the bobby pin Fraser had pulled out of my hair lying on the dresser. Looking at my reflection I noted that there had been two bobby pins in my hair. I still wonder if Fraser kept the other or if I lost it somewhere. The Inspector Thatcher part of me is certain that I lost it, but the Meg part of me says that bobby pin is somewhere in Fraser's things, safely tucked away with other precious mementos.
I hope to find out someday.
The End.