"When are you goint o kiss me?" Meg breathed against his ear. Ben's feet stopped in place on the dance floor. Meg pulled back just far enough to see his surprised expression.
"Kiss, but you're my … Not that I don't … You see, however regulations state …" Ben didn't get to finish.
"Neither of us is in uniform, or on duty or even at the consulate. It's just a kiss." she whispered, her dark eyes gazing up at him seductively from beneath thick, jet black lashes. She watched him watch her as she slowly ran her tongue over her full, red, bottom lip.
"Just a kiss," Ben hesitated, returning to her eyes, "isn't enough."
Meg gasped, blinking in amazement. Not enough? What did he mean?
"Are you certain? A night together, it seems very hasty." She couldn't string together a thought, or a sentence.
Ben's eyes drifted away, his jaw tightening.
"I'm not handling this right." Meg realized, "I'm pushing him away."
"Ah, the song has finished." Ben's hand released Meg's and he stepped back from her.
"Fraser, tell me what you want." Meg caught his wrist before he could turn away. She saw the pain she'd caused in his blue eyes. Ben had been nothing but a gentleman and a professional to her since they'd met. Now she'd hurt him.
"To remember," he answered, sadness in his voice.
"You hold that against me, don't you?" Meg saw the answer in his eyes. They searched hers, delving into her soul, her conscience and making her squirm. He saw too much.
Ben moved out of the way as the music began again. Partners began swaying, moving in sync around the room. He and Meg stood rooted to the tile.
"What do you want me to say? I made a mistake. You scare me. I don't trust myself. I'm weak, I'm petty, I'm selfish, I'm in …" Meg closed her eyes, cursing her big mouth for almost giving away her heart.
An exuberant couple swung into Ben as he stared at Meg. He excused himself. After they moved on he quickly swept Meg into an embrace, guiding her toward an empty table in the corner.
"I shouldn't have said anything, it's late." Meg perched on the edge of the undersized chair, her heart racing. She couldn't see a way out. Ben didn't deserve to be treated the way she had treated him.
"Love can be dangerous, it can consume you from the inside out, it attracts, it repels, it changes the landscape. I want to feel alive again, somewhere outside of a handful of fading memories."
Meg listened to his voice, saw the way he studied her, exposed himself to her, his breathing quick, his words tumbling.
"Ben, will you take me home? Will you hold me for a while?" Meg asked, her voice low and full of vulnerability.
Ben stood, taking her hand. He still didn't know if holding her would be enough. He wanted to lose himself in her. He wondered for a moment what waking up with her would feel like.
"I'll escort you home." Ben whispered, his hand on the small of her back.
"You didn't answer me, Ben." Meg balked, despite the warm, urghing hand on her back.
Ben swallowed, looking down at his boots.
"You don't have to if you'd rather not. I was too impulsive." Meg spoke softly.
"I hit a brick wall every time." she lamented silently.
"Allow me to buy you coffee first." Ben offered, wanting to escape the crowded dance floor.
"Okay, lead the way." Meg gestured.
Shoulder-to-shoulder, they walked out of the dance hall, onto the busy sidewalk. Fraser pointed to an all-night greasy spoon across the street. They scurried across the two lane street, avoiding traffic.
Fraser held the door open for Meg. Gathering her gown's skirt, she swept inside. All eyes were on the well dressed couple. Fraser led them to a booth in the back.
"There's no avoiding the issue this time." Meg spoke, leaning across the table. She met his gaze and held it, determined to have the truth between them.
"What can I get ya?" a thirty-something waitress asked, speaking mostly to Fraser.
"Two coffees, thank you kindly." he answered quickly. The waitress slowly walked away, glancing back at the Mountie.
"Ben," Meg said sternly, making him meet her dark eyes.
"Yes, I do hold it against you. I've tried to forget. I can't forget. You can't have it both ways. I can't handle it."
His blue eyes bored into hers, his voice bright with passion. What had she done to twist him like this, she wondered. Meg had been deliberately detached at the office and kept her distance otherwise. None of that had kept her from remembering their time bound together in the horse car, in the egg hatchery, or coffee after the NAFTA fiasco.
"What do you want, Benton?" Meg asked, twisting the tulle of her embroidered, maroon skirt.
Still staring at her, he answered, "You, all of you, at the consulate, after work, I want to know I mean more to you than just a subordinate." He looked away, his shoulders slumping.
"Our superiors …" Meg began.
"Are over four hundred miles away," Ben cut her off, snapping his gaze back to her face. "I'm right here." he said more softly. "I love you enough to defy our superiors' regulations. Do you care for me at all?" he asked before sliding out of the booth seat. He put down an American five dollar bill and left the restaurant. Meg sat there, numbed to the core, horrified.
"Best go after him, honey," the waitress said as she set down two cups of steaming coffee. "You don't go you'll regret it." She shook her head sadly, dark eyes filled with loneliness.
"Regret it, yes." Meg mumbled before sliding out of the booth seat. She gathered her skirts and ran to catch up to Fraser. His longer stride had give the Mountie a head start on Meg. Her strappy, four inch heels didn't help.
"Ben! Wait." she shouted, barely audible over evening traffic. She shouted again but he didn't even flinch.
"I know you heard me," Meg grumbled. When she shouted again it was straight out of her inspecctor persona. "Constable Fraser! Halt!" This time he did stop, but didn't turn around. She watched as his back straightened and his feet come together at attention. Coming around him, Meg dropped her skirt and threw her arms around his neck.
"Screw Ottawa, I love you." she said, out of breath from running awkwardly down the sidewalk.
"You love me?" Ben breathed, searching Meg's face for honesty. Was she just saying that to appease him? Would she let him down like Victoria had, like his mother had?
"I love you, Benton Fraser." Meg rose up, placing a gentle kiss against his lips.
"I don't want you holding anything against me except your body." she whispered as he slowly slid his arms around her.
"I can do that." he whispered, stroking her back.