Fraser lay on the bed, his head bandaged as I sat by the fire beside him. He hadn't moved in over an hour, but I knew he would be fine. Was anyone's head any harder than Benton Fraser's? I think not. It wasn't easy to sit up with him like this. Thirty hours had passed since I'd slept in my own, big bed back in my Chicago apartment.
I was amazed at how quickly my life had changed. Yesterday I was an officer in the Royal Canadian Mounted Police, with two subordinate officers at my beck and call. Sitting by the fire, I was a criminal wanted for murder. All I wanted was a shower and a hot cup of coffee.
"Dad, don't go up there, Muldoon." Fraser mumbled as he began to squirm in the bed I'd managed to rig from four cinder blocks and a sheet of ply wood. He'd taken a nasty blow to the head before falling into the lake. Lake Michigan in December is as cold as a mother-in-law's kiss in Siberia.
Helping him soaked me by the time I found the open packing container.
I'd managed to drag him onto the bank, then he and I stumbled into the nearest packing container at the wharf. Thankfully, Fraser carried waterproof matches and there was more than enough scrap lumber from pallets lying around to use for firewood. I'd had to steal a change of clothes for the both of us from one of the boxes in the back from Taiwan. All or nothing, I had stolen enough for a couple of days. I stretched my luck and found food for the both of us as well. The container was a veritable grocery of imported foods; water, canned fruits, meats and chocolate. I hated doing it, stealing went against everything I stood for, but I wasn't about to let my moral convictions stand in the way of living either. Call it selfish if you like, I intended to reimburse the company after this was all over.
"It's okay, Fraser, rest easy." I ran my hand over his brow, wishing I could get him to an emergency room. His green eyes began to blink as he slowly came around.
"Inspector Thatcher?" He tried to sit up but I laid a firm hand against his chest to keep him down. It wasn't easy, he was determined to get up. Exasperated, I let him have his way.
"What happened, the last thing I remember someone hit me and I was falling into the lake." Fraser felt the knot at the side of his hard head.
"It was Calvin, I found him but you found me before I could apprehend him." I gave him the most succinct version of events I could. Fuzzy, Fraser let the fleece blanket covering him fall to his waist. He looked down at the sweatshirt I'd put on him, the sleeves folded down over his hands. I'd had to get a four XL. The ones actually his size were stacked over my head. Big was better than nothing at all.
Fully awake, he lifted the blanket to see his lower half. "Oh dear." I heard him mutter as he laid the blanket back.
"Don't worry, Fraser, you did that part for yourself." I'd tended the fire while he struggled into a pair of Cincinnati orange sweat pants.
"Thank heavens." Fraser breathed softly, laying back, relieved that his dignity was still intact. Benton Fraser and his dignity and propriety.
"Are you hungry?" I asked, handing over a can of fruit I'd pried open using his hunting knife.
"Yes, thank you." Without hesitation he took the fruit and began pinching out wedges of pineapple with his fingers. I was glad he hadn't asked where the food or the clothing had originated. That line of questioning would have to come later.
"How does your head feel, you've been unconscious for quite a while." I pushed a piece of mango into my mouth, watching his reaction in the firelight. Fraser is beautiful in any light, but by fire he is a sight to behold. The orange, red and yellow tones played against the planes of his high cheek boned face. Shadows fell off his straight nose as he surveyed me thoughtfully for a moment.
"Still hurting, but better, thank you, Sir." To say his gaze can be intense is like saying that wine is intoxicating or that the sea is salty. I felt hotter as he looked at me than any fire could ever warm me.
"Don't mention it, Fraser, and don't call me 'Sir' or 'Inspector', please. I'm not going to be your commanding officer when this is all over. If Calvin isn't caught, I'll be inmate number BR549 somewhere." I felt the weight of the situation hit me like a ton of bricks. Fraser would take me in and I wouldn't fight him on it. He was simply doing his duty, as he always did. Fraser and his unerring sense of justice and duty. I had to admire him for it. He stood by his convictions, accepting the consequences without fail. I wish I had his fortitude.
"We will catch Calvin, I'll see to it." Fraser laid a gentle hand on my knee, squeezing gently as he met my gaze. His touch felt like a heating pad against my skin. I wanted more, but I'd never say as much.
"How do you do it?" I suddenly asked. What did I have to lose anymore? Nothing. It was a freeing realization.
"Do what?" He left his hand on my knee as I sat on a cinder block only a few inches away.
"Why are you so positive? You don't know if I killed Anderson or not." I countered. His confidence seemed out of place, naïve even.
"I know you well enough to know you aren't a murder, Meg Thatcher." Fraser answered resolutely, his gaze never wavering.
"You can't know someone that well, Fraser, we're all capable of murder under the right circumstances." I pushed, wishing he weren't such a boy scout.
"If you had murdered Anderson you wouldn't have hesitated to leave me in the lake or at the nearest building before attempting escape." He wasn't backing down but I was softening. He has that effect on me.
"How can you be so certain you know me, Fraser, we barely interact, we can't even let the walls down enough to call each other by our Christian names." I set my fruit down and got up, needing to move from the spot and from the thoughts rolling around my head.
"Instinct." One undeniable word. Fraser had an instinct about me? I almost laughed.
"I wish it were that simple for me, Fraser, my instincts about you are contradictory to how you behave." I scoffed, shoving my hands into the pockets of my sweatpants.
"Oh, how so?" He sat up, his fruit forgotten.
"You said your heart was a runaway once but then you act like you don't have one the rest of the time." I slapped my hand over my mouth. Had that really came out? I groaned, wishing I hadn't said anything to begin with.
"My heart is not my own anymore, Meg." Fraser swung his feet over the side of the makeshift bed and stood up cautiously.
I stopped in my tracks. Was he saying that he'd given his heart to me? I couldn't decide. I knew that I wasn't the only one who wanted him for my own. Why would he give me his heart any way, I'd given him nothing but a hard time and grief. I asked him.
"I didn't pursue you so much to apprehend you, Meg, but to protect you. I couldn't bear it if anything happened to you." Barefoot, Fraser stepped toward me. I must have looked insane, staring up at him, my jaw dropped to my feet. I saw his mouth begin to quirk into a smile like it did sometimes. His arms circled me as I stood stock still, as still as he stood on sentry duty.
"Why haven't you said anything before now, Fraser?" I finally spoke, my brain still whirling.
"Waiting for the right moment I suppose." He ran the back of his hand along my cheek, staring into my eyes. I'd been this close to him only three times before. I know, I'd counted them, relived them.
"Now is certainly not the right time, Fraser." I shook my head. He simply nodded, edging his head to my left as he moved in to kiss me. I closed my eyes and let my brain rest for a while, focusing instead on the feel of his arms around me and the taste of his kiss, sweet from the fruit juice. I let go of all the things weighing on my mind. Kissing him made the world a better place for a moment.
Eventually the kiss was over but Fraser didn't let me out of his embrace. He was still as cold as a supermarket fish stick. We settled down on the makeshift bed together. He pulled my back to his front, his left arm beneath my head and his hand on my shoulder. I had never been held as tenderly as he held me that night. Our bodies fit together like they'd been designed for lying together all along.
"Fraser, how do you know me so well?" I asked as I pulled his right arm tighter around me.
"I see you every day, in every situation, both as my Inspector and as yourself. I hear you late at night, crying in your office." His words touched me. I didn't know that he even paid attention. I had to work hard to keep Fraser reigned in. If I didn't he would get into trouble from our superiors.
"I don't want to be 'the Inspector', Fraser. I hate having to write you up or put you on sentry duty." I turned around to face him. "I can't let a single thing slip or they'll think I'm not fit for command. At least that's the way it used to be." I shrugged, curling up to his chest.
"You and I will find Calvin tomorrow. Tonight it's just the two of us, Benton and Meg." He brushed a strand of my hair away from my face, taking his time.
"Part of me doesn't want to go back to the consulate, Fraser." I confessed. For months I'd been thinking about how much freer my life would be if I left the Force. There would finally be time to do all the things I'd dreamed of doing since I was a little girl. Outside of the RCMP, I might actually stand a chance of having a relationship with Fraser. I care very deeply for him. Seeing him fall into the lake scared me. I couldn't imagine a world without him.
"I understand your reluctance, the Force can be unforgiving." I knew Fraser spoke from personal experience. If they hadn't exiled him to Chicago I never would have met him.
"We should get some sleep, it's been a long day." I changed the subject, wishing we were lying in my bed in my apartment. Clean sheets and soft pillows were preferable to lying on a hard sheet of ply wood using folded sweatpants to lay our heads on. Still, regardless of the surroundings, I was glad to be lying this close to Fraser, looking into his face as the fire warmed us.
Fraser took my hand and pressed a kiss to my fingers.
"I don't want to miss a moment of tonight." He whispered. If that's the way he wanted it, I'd gladly stay awake for him.
"You slept in your cot last night, I was on the run." I said, giving him mock annoyance.
"You could have joined me." I saw his eyes dance as he gently teased me.
"I didn't know I was invited to or I would have." I giggled. For a moment I'd forgotten why we were in this predicament. All I could see was Fraser and feel his warmth filling me to the brim.
"Consider it a standing invitation from now on." Fraser and I kissed, moving his arms around me, pulling me closer.
We may have shared a makeshift bed but the night was tame between Fraser and I. Twenty minutes later I was asleep, dead to the world.
I don't remember drifting off, but I do remember waking up, still in his arms. The fire had burnt down to embers. Fraser lay on his back. I lay with my head on his chest, my right arm throw over him. I woke to the sound of someone dragging their boot heels nearby.
"Fraser, someone's here." I hissed, lying still, listening for more movement. I saw his eyes fly open but he didn't move otherwise, also listening.
"Calvin?" I heard him ask into my ear. All I could do was shrug. I'd only heard them, not seen them. Quickly, Fraser pressed a kiss to my forehead and gently slid out of our bed. I slipped out too. Following him, we made our way to the entrance of the packing container.
"It's a homeless person." He whispered, easing his guard.
"We should be going." I motioned back toward the fire. Fraser nodded, turning to follow me. It didn't take either of us long to get ready. Fraser redressed as I stood guard at the container's entrance. I kept my huge sweatshirt on. It was cold in my business suit and heels so I'd ditched my skirt for a stolen pair of sneakers and a sweat suit.
When Fraser joined me at the entrance of the container I felt his hand on my shoulder. Looking into his eyes, I saw he'd made a decision. I sighed, it was time to face the music.
"I'll go, Fraser, don't worry, I won't resist arrest." I managed a smile. He ducked his head, looking at his boots.
"I'm sorry, Meg, it's only temporary, I assure you." He looked up at me again.
"I know, Fraser, you always get your man." I tried to crack a joke, playing on the RCMP stereotype. A small smile pulled at his full lower lip, the one that tempted me to kiss him every day.
"Maintiens le droit."He corrected me softly as I leaned up against the side of the metal container.
"Defend the law." I echoed in English, smiling. Leave it to the French language to make such a rough, tough motto sound romantic.
Needless to say, Fraser and I walked all the way back to the twenty-seventh precinct where Detective Vecchio was on duty and waiting for us. The balding Italian came sauntering up to us, his eyes dancing and a sly grin on his narrow face.
"Morning, Inspector, Where you been all night, Benny?" Ray stopped in front of us, his hands on his hips.
"While trailing Inspector Thatcher I was rendered unconscious. I fell into the lake but she was somehow able to rescue me. We spent the night in a packing container at the wharf." Fraser answered adroitly. The smile on Detective Vecchio's face grew wider. I was ready to spit nails.
"You arrested your boss, didn't ya, Fraser." Detective Vecchio nodded like a bobble head doll.
"Yes, Ray, she is a suspect in an ongoing murder investigation, I was duty bound to bring her to the local authorities." Fraser seemed almost confused at his friend's jab.
"Detective Vecchio, have you received any information on Anderson's murder?" I leveled my most hateful glare at him.
"Yeah, one of our patrolmen caught Calvin running from the wharf. I've been working him over for the last hour. He confessed." The Italian detective sounded so smug as he spoke.
"I doubt a career criminal simply confessed to murder, Detective Vecchio." I didn't believe him for a minute.
"He sure did, especially when I told him I'd let you be the one to escort him back to the great, white north." Vecchio turned to me, his eyes cold as an iceberg.
"You are free to go, Inspector Thatcher." Fraser turned to me, a genuine smile spread over his handsome face.
"Thank you kindly, Fraser, I'll see you back at the consulate." I nodded, glad I'd get to go home and clean up. There would be no end to the paper work my frame up had caused.
"Yes, Meg," I stopped in mid step, "ah, Inspector Thatcher." Vecchio laughed while Fraser winced, his eyes closed.
"Good day, Ben." I said with a smile, just like I called him by his first name every day. I saw Vecchio slap Fraser on the back while the slender detective laughed his nonexistent butt off.
I took a very long, hot shower when I got to my apartment. It felt great to be a contributing member of society again, with fluffy towels. I dressed in a pair of khakis and a blouse to see to the long list of phone calls I had to make at the office. After our night on the ply wood, I figured Fraser would take his sweet time getting back to the consulate. I was right.
I sent Turnbull home at six o'clock, shooing him out forcefully so I could work in peace. He meant well, but it was hard to concentrate when fielding a million questions. I had to write my incident report, taking great care to gloss over the part where Fraser and I fell asleep beside the fire in each other's arms.
At nine o'clock, after the sun had set and the neon lights of the city began burning passionately outside, I heard the front door of the consulate open then close. I poked my head out into the hallway to see who it was.
"Fraser, hello." I began cautiously. Seeing him gave me butterflies, especially after our intimate conversation.
"Meg," He smiled, saying my name slowly. I love the sound of it coming from his smooth voice.
"How is your head?" I asked, moving closer as he slowly advanced. The hall was dimly lit around us.
"It's fine, thank you kindly." He answered, rubbing the knot still raised on the side.
"I was worried about you." I shoved my hands down in my pockets, trying to hide the shaking as I took a deep breath. I saw surprise flicker in his eyes as we got to within arm's length of each other.
"Fraser, about last night," I began, wanting to be honest for both our sakes.
"The invitation is still open." He gestured with his hand. Those words caught me off guard. I thought we would bury the previous night like we had the runaway train incident.
"Oh, yeah?" I went blank, sputtering, my heart pounding. "I'll definitely take you up on it." I managed. It didn't sound very suave, I know, but he'd blown my mind.
"Good, I expect you to." Fraser walked slowly away, leaving me stunned in the hallway. He wanted me in his bed!
I stood there in the hall like something stupid before returning to my office and cleaning my desk top for the night. Quickly, I shut down the computer and switched off the light before locking the front door. When I tapped on Fraser's office door I heard him bid me enter. I opened the door to see him sitting on the side of the bed dressed in antiquated, red long johns. I'd heard he wore those but I'd never seen them for myself. I had to cover my mouth with my hand to stifle a giggle. He looked down at his legs and knew what I was laughing about.
"Ah, Fraser, I couldn't picture you in anything else." I sat down on the side of the cot with him.
"I have a spare pair." He slipped his arm around my shoulder and whispered in my ear. I was tempted to tease him, telling him I slept in the nude but decided against it. I still felt shy about being in such close proximity to him, much less teasing him like that. Instead, I laid my hand along his cheek and kissed him, something I planned on doing for a long time to come.
We settled down on Fraser's cot, talking and letting our guard down for the first time since we'd met. Once he opened up, Fraser was warm and had a subtle, rather sneaky sense of humor. We had wasted so much time being subordinate and superior officers. It felt good to just be two people getting to know each other.
Sometime after midnight I rose to leave the consulate, leaving Fraser a note. It wouldn't do for Turnbull to find us in the bed together first thing in the morning. Fraser woke up as I was writing the note to leave in his top desk drawer.
"Meg?" He peered up at me, his eyes squinted. I smiled, pen in hand.
"I was just going to tell you good-bye until the morning, we can't have Turnbull finding out just yet." I sat down in his chair as he slipped out of bed. He seemed to be concerned about something, I could tell by the set of his jaw and the way he studied me.
"I don't want to keep the way we feel a secret, Meg." Fraser finally said. I was taken back, I hadn't meant that we should.
"Of course not, Fraser, but I want us to tell people, not have them hear it as a nasty rumor." I tried to clarify myself. He nodded, his eyes crinkling as he smiled.
"You understand?" I rolled the chair over to the side of the cot and took his hands in mine.
"No secrets, Meg." I saw the resolution in his green eyes. If I didn't stand beside him on our relationship, it would hurt Fraser worse than anything I could do. We were going to see some thin before we saw the thick, but if we stayed together it would be alright.
"No secrets, Benton." I leaned my forehead against his, wishing I could dive right back into bed with him and not have to work the next day.
"Good." He kissed me. I love his kisses.
"We'll tell Turnbull and the rest together tomorrow, okay." I assured him.
"Tomorrow." Fraser then whispered those three words in my ear, surprising me to no end. I never thought I'd hear 'I love you' from anyone, especially Benton Fraser.
"I love you too." I slid out of the chair and hugged him, tears filling my eyes to stream freely down my cheeks.
Eventually I floated home, I didn't care if they told me I had to resign from the Force. As long as Benton Fraser loved me, I'd be happy anywhere, doing anything.
Fraser didn't let me escape from custody and I wasn't about to let him escape from love.
The End
Author's note: This does not reference a specific episode. My muse is fickle, not specific.