No one knew what it was like to be Ben. The thirteen year old boy wanted to be like the rest of his class so badly. All he wanted was a mother and a father. Neither of them had to be a brain surgeon or a millionaire, just parents. From the time he could remember his mother had been dragging him from one place to another. He barely settled in school before it was time to leave. Early on he figured what his mom did for a living, she stole things. Every time the news reported a bank robbery or armored truck heist, they moved to a new town.
"Mom, why do we move so often?" Ben asked when he was eight. His mother had took him by the shoulders and looked him straight in the eye. He could still remember how her dark, thick curls felt when she hugged him.
"We aren't like other people, Sweetie, that's why we move so often." She kissed his cheek and smiled. Ben had never understood what that meant exactly. Not until he saw his mother's picture on a wanted add in an old, Alaskan Post Office. At ten years old he read the information written on the flier.
Victoria Metcalf, wanted for bank robbery. Ben had taken the flier down and put it in his jacket's inside pocket. He kept it in his back pack, along with every thing else he didn't want to lose when he moved the next time.
The boy pulled a pocket knife from inside his motorcycle boot as he crouched beside the four wheel pickup sitting in the back of the parking lot, a canvas back pack bouncing on his back. Expertly, the boy picked the lock on the dirty Ford. The truck had been around since before the boy was a twinkle in his mother's eye, breaking in wasn't rocket science. Once inside, the young thief riffled around for spare change or anything handy he could sell at the pawn shop. An often used, well polished gun hung in the gun rack across the back window. Chunks of dirt and gravel littered the floor board as the thief crouched inside the ratty, Ford cab. Blood and chewing tobacco stank up the Indian blanket upholstery. From the depths of the compartment glistened a new hunting knife, it's blade sheathed in a hand stitched case. The teen shoved it in his hip pocket. A leather, bi-fold wallet laying in the glove box held several, large bills. Quickly, the thief shoved them into his jeans and began to crawl out.
"Hey, what are you up to, boy?" A deep, ominous voice asked from behind the thirteen year old's back as his feet hit the pavement, the truck's running boards knee high on him. He turned around and grinned innocently up at a mountain man who looked like one of the local grizzlies. The boy took off on foot, weaving his way through vehicles in the parking lot.
"Maggie, send your dog after that kid, he was in my truck." The mountain man shouted at the petite, blonde behind him. With a keen whistle and a motion, the white dog took off after the kid. "Thanks, Maggie, you've trained that wolf mutt your brother gave you real good." The Royal Canadian Mounted Police woman smiled as she began running behind her dog. The white dog with caramel markings took the running boy down easily, felling him in a stretch of grass near the road. Dog and boy skidded to a stop in three inches of mud, going feet over head as they hit.
"Stop, Aurora, that's enough." Maggie took her dog by the collar and began rubbing her between the ears in her favorite spot. It was the quickest way to calm her down after a chase.
"Just wait until I tell my case worker what your dog did, I could have gotten rabies or something." The thirteen year old boy looked up at Maggie, half his face covered in mud. Two-thirds of the boy was caked in dark brown mud. Maggie raised a skeptical eyebrow.
"What were you doing in Mr. Franklin's truck, young man?" She helped the mud covered teen to his feet as he struggled to free himself and his back pack of the sucking mud.
"None of your business, Santa Clause." Anger flared in the teen's green eyes.
"As a member of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police, I'm making it my business, what were you doing in that pick up truck." Maggie took the boy by the ear, dragging him yelping toward the parking lot where Henry Franklin stood watching the whole scene.
"What do you think, lady." The boy groused.
"Are you missing anything, Mr. Franklin?" The lady in red asked, tightening her grip as her captive squirmed to be free.
"Yea, kid took the hunting knife my wife bought and cleaned out my wallet." Two, dark, beady eyes stared at the boy as he wiped mud from his face. Maggie began unlatched the Ford's tailgate and pulled the kid's back pack off his back. Roughly, she pulled his fleece lined coat off, heedless of his protests. The lady mountie let go of the juvenile's ear so he could dump his pockets. Out came the wad of cash and the hunting knife.
"Hey, that's my knife, you red witch." The kid protested.
"Then your wife calls you 'Sugar Britches' eh?" Mr. Franklin pulled the knife out to show Maggie the engraving on the blade.
"That's a fine looking weapon you have there, Mr. Franklin, where did Bertha order it?" That launched an conversation about where the best place to order firearms would be. The kid saw an opportunity to run. Aurora bared her three inch fangs and growled deep in her throat.
"I don't recommend that, young man, she's infinitely faster than you are." Maggie rubbed her companion between the ears. With a sigh, the kid stood still while the lady Mountie took the mountain man's statement before escorting her captive to the four wheel drive cruiser beside the Ford.
"Alright, young man, you're going to head quarters with me, if you want to help yourself you'll be more cooperative, starting with telling me your name." Maggie threw a spare blanket she kept in the four wheel drive across the seat for her passenger to sit on. She didn't want a ton of mud on the upholstery. White dog hair was bad enough to clean up after.
"Ben." He answered sullenly, staring out the window.
"Hmm, I have a half brother named Ben, I haven't seen him in while." She smiled at the thought of her older brother. His half wolf companion had sired her own best friend, Aurora. As if on cue, the lady dog poked her pink nose between the seats to look out the front window.
"Big deal." Ben grouched, crossing his arms over his chest, mud and all.
"What's your last name, Ben?" Maggie shoved Aurora back so she could see to back up.
"Might as well not have one, my father is no where to be seen and my mother is a fugitive." He answered, annoyed at having been caught.
"A fugitive, what is she wanted for, Ben?" Concern clouded Maggie's Arctic blue eyes as she looked at the boy beside her.
"She robs banks." Ben sighed, wishing he were anywhere else in the world. "They caught her driving the get away car when she ran over a spike strip and shredded the tires, now she's in prison." The lady Mountie didn't speak for a moment. She couldn't imagine what a life this child had had.
"What about your father, Ben, where is he?" Maternal instinct told her there was no father in the picture.
"I got a letter from my mother, my father is living in Chicago, she never told him about me." The boy spat his answer out, his dark brows drawn over his green eyes like storm clouds.
"Do you know where he is, what he does for a living, Ben, maybe you could live with him." Maggie suggested.
"All Mom sent was a picture." Ben pulled his back pack out of the back floor board and pulled out a dog eared, worn photo. A red light stopped traffic so Maggie took the photo from Ben. In it stood a young man, tall, broad shouldered with a happy smile. A white, self satisfied looking wolf sat on the floor beside him. As pale as she was, Maggie turned a shade lighter.
"Benton." She gasped, surprised to see her brother in the picture. Turning the photo she saw his full name in a flowing,feminine hand. "Oh dear." Maggie gave it back to the boy.
"What's wrong, is he wanted for something too?" The light turned from red to green but Maggie didn't move. As color blind as she was, Aurora knew the light had changed. She pressed a cold, wet nose against her master's arm.
"What exactly did your mother tell you about your father, Ben?" Maggie pushed the accelerator down slowly on the eight cylinder, four wheel drive.
"Nothing, just that he doesn't know about me and sent this picture." Ben looked at the decade old image and wondered why the cop was acting so strange. "Do you recognize him or something, what'd he do, murder someone?" The kid shrugged, he wouldn't be surprised if his father were a murderer.
"No, no, nothing like that, where are you living?" The lady mountie took a deep breath as she drove slowly toward headquarters.
"Fitzgerald Children's Home." Ben hit his head hard against the back of the high seat. Maggie had to get hold of her brother and quickly.
Scene Break
Ray Kowalski plopped his skinny butt down on the roller seat and grabbed the cold, coffee cup from it's usual, handy place. He'd been sitting behind the Lieutenant's desk for three months and still didn't like it. He missed being out on the streets, solving cases and making sure his ass was covered. It had been so much simpler being a detective. Now he had to try and keep the commissioner happy, deal with the detectives and handle all the paperwork. Lt. Walsh sent him a post card from Florida, wishing him the best. Ray groaned every time he looked at the sandy, white beach with a bikini clad blonde leaned back on a towel. When the phone rang he let it ring three times before answering.
"Kowalski here," He barely kept from snarling. "Turnbull, oh, sorry, nothin' just sittin here eatin another roll of Tums, why?" Ray rubbed his eyes, tired already and it wasn't ten o'clock yet. "Tell Fraser I'll meet him at twelve, OK." The lanky, blonde mountie was as annoying as he always had been. Twelve years and he hadn't changed his personality one bit. He had however gotten used to the good, Chicago, deep dish pizza and spread his girth. In his late thirties, Turnbull had had to begin working out to meet RCMP regulations. He'd already set his buttons over as much as was allowed according to regulations and they still bulged.
Two hours later...
Ray sat quietly at the Chinese restaurant drinking coffee and watching ladies walk by out the window. He'd been there for fifteen minutes, waiting on Fraser. The Canadian ambassador's top aide was as punctual as he'd ever been.
"Hello, Ray, glad you could meet me for lunch." Harsh, spring sunlight highlighted the strand of gray at the Mountie's temples. If you didn't know where to look, you'd miss it entirely.
A petite, Asian lady waddled toward them, order pad in hand and two menus. She looked like she'd been cooking since the Great Wall of China was constructed. Fraser smiled politely, greeting the lady in her native tongue, Mandarin Chinese.
"Do you know what you want, Fraser?" Ray asked, wondering why his long time friend even bothered to look at the menu handed to him. They both knew what the place had to offer.
"Not yet, Ray, why don't you order first." Fraser skimmed the menu, trying to decide what he felt like eating. Ray ordered the same thing he always did and a coffee refill. Fraser on the other hand began ordering, telling the waitress exactly what he wanted in great detail.
"Geesh, Fraser, you order like a woman, they already know you like your noodles drained." Ray leaned back against the booth seat's black, leather back.
"I'm sorry, Ray, they wait on so many customers during the day, I can't possibly expect them to remember every detail of my specific order." The Mountie acted mildly offended at his friend's criticism, his accent making 'sorry' rhyme with story.
"Ah, never mind me, I'm just grouchy 'cause the commissioner is breathin' down my neck." Ray gave Fraser the rundown on his situation as they waited for their meals to arrive. As always, they ended up solving crimes together, despite Ray's recent promotion.
"I received an e-mail from Maggie earlier today," Ray's eyes perked up at the mention of his best friend's younger, half sister. They'd had an on-again- off-again relationship for the last several years. Neither of them had been willing to give up their duties to join the other. Mostly they spent vacation and holiday time together. It wasn't a perfect solution, but it seemed to work for them.
"How's she doin' ?" The new lieutenant asked, hoping it was news that she'd quit the RCMP and had decided to move south.
"She's fine, she says she's coming down for a few days and has a surprise for me," Fraser smoothed his eye brow with his thumb nail, still wondering why she'd been so vague in the e-mail.
"Ah, probably just deer jerky, elk steaks, pickled bear brains er somethin' else you only eat in Canada." Just the thoughts of the foods Fraser had insisted he try made Ray shudder. Taking a year off to go exploring in the Yukon had been the adventure of a lifetime, but the southern cop had been glad to get back to his McDonald's soy hamburgers and preservative laden french fries.
"Perhaps, she wrote that she'd be in on Thursday, we'll find out then." Fresh, crab Rangoon wafted toward the pair as their waitress shuffled up, tray in hand.
Thursday...
People filled the airport, pushing and shoving to get through customs. It was the most unhappy place Maggie had ever been. She was thankful that she'd packed light. Her pack fit snugly against her back as she 'pardon me' and thank you kindly-ied her way through the line. Ben struggled to keep up with his temporary guardian. She may have been shorter legged but she could move fast.
"Hey, wait, Maggie." Ben puffed out a breath of air as he caught up to his aunt.
"I hope Aurora made it through customs alright, she has the most dreadful temper when she's cooped up." Nothing seemed to perturb the lady mountie, except her dog. Watching them together was something Ben couldn't explain. They seemed to understand each other. He heard Maggie talking to the dog as if she were a person.
"She's doing better than I am, slow down a little will you." The boy leaned his hands on his knees to rest a moment.
"When I was your age I trained a dog sled team, we were up at three in the morning and then I walked four miles to school and back in the Inuit village down stream, hard work is in your blood, Ben, embrace it." She smiled at the boy. He raised one skeptical eye brow, not sure how this could be one of his blood relatives. Before Ben could muster his strength, Maggie had begun marching toward customs and the exit.
Scene Break
"Why can't we take a cab again?" Ben asked, feeling cross as usual.
"It's only a few more blocks, we'll be there before you know it." Maggie trotted on down the street, Aurora leading the way, sniffing everything along the way. Twenty minutes later they arrived at the Canadian Consulate. Turnbull stood watch outside. His light eyes never wavered as he stood stock still.
"Is Fraser in, Turnbull?" Maggie asked, knowing he wouldn't verbally answer. "Thank you kindly, Turnbull." Ben looked up at the human statue, wondering how Maggie figured out an answer. Across the street a church bell began chiming loudly. On the last chime Turnbull turned, catching his superior officer's younger sister.
"He's in a meeting with the ambassador, but he should be finished in half an hour, would you care to join me in a cup of tea, with crumpets and jam?" The thought of food perked the mountie's face up.
"That sounds wonderful, thank you kindly." Maggie let him open the door for her as she and her dog waltzed through. Turnbull disappeared inside before Ben could make it up the stairs. He stared at the old paintings on the wall along the hallway beyond the entrance. Hearing him, Turnbull introduced himself with his usual exuberance.
"I'm Constable Fraser's son, Ben." The boy shrugged, moving a strand of dark hair out of his green eyes.
"Oh, but Constable Fraser doesn't have any children." Turnbull insisted.
"He does now." Ben scoffed. Turnbull blinked blandly, not sure of what to do exactly. After a moment of awkward silence he said, "Let me show you to the drawing room and I'll let Fraser know you're here, then I'll bring tea for everyone." Turnbull opened the sliding doors to a very ornate room used mostly to greet foreign dignitaries. Fraser's sister qualified as an honored guest in the junior mountie's book. It was always nice to see someone from the mother land.
Fraser wrote down the list of details to finish before the ambassador to Ecuador arrived as his boss ticked them off. He'd been working for Meg Thatcher's replacement for the last decade and still missed the Ice Princess. Mr. Gordon was a consummate professional but lacked the personality to actually inspire anything other than formality. When Turnbull poked his head into the office Fraser saw the excited smile on his face. He didn't have to tell Fraser that Maggie was in the building, the junior mountie's face did. Twenty minutes later he walked into the drawing room to see two familiar faces. Fraser felt the familiarity more than saw it in the boy sitting beside Maggie, eating a crumpet.
"Maggie, you look well." Fraser took his sister's hand in both of his. Her hand felt like a child's compared to his. Diefenbaker trotted over to where Aurora sat beside the fireplace and began sniffing. After saying hello he settled down beside his daughter and took in the humans.
"Fraser, I'd like to introduce you to Ben Metcalf, he's Victoria's son." He searched the boy's face, traces of his mother becoming evident. Fraser saw her dark hair, her regal bearing and Roman nose. Above that nose he saw his own crystalline eyes.
"Victoria's son." Words were hard to come by. Fraser felt his chest tighten and his mouth go dry.
"Yeah, the bank robber, the one in jail." Ben handed the man he knew to be his father the letter his mother had sent him from prison five weeks earlier. Inside he read her flowing handwriting.
Dear Ben,
This is hard for me to write. I've had nothing but time to think about life; mine and yours. You're a fine, young man who doesn't deserve the way I've raised you. Your father, Benton would have raised you in Chicago so much better than I ever could. He's the finest officer the RCMP has to offer.I should have told the both of you about each other. I'd already lost Benton, I couldn't bear to lose you too. Some day I want you to find Benton in Chicago and get to know the kindest man I've ever had the honor to know. He'll show you how to become the man I know you can become, a man who gives his whole heart and one who stands for what is right, no matter what.
Love, Mom
Fraser read the letter twice before moving on to the picture enclosed in the envelope. It was one from his trunk, one Benton had sent to his father before his death. Robert Fraser would have been delighted to know he had a grandson. It had disappeared from Fraser's things when Victoria left Chicago on the run.
"I knew your mother, Victoria," The mountie began, his voice cracking.
"Yeah, in the Biblical sense apparently." Ben snickered. Maggie jabbed her nephew in the ribs with one stiff finger.
"I knew Victoria, there was no, she never said anything about, about you." Fraser wanted to shake his head, to clear the cobwebs out.
"She never told me about you either, it was Maggie here that figured out the connection." The teen hitched his thumb at the lady mountie standing beside him.
"How did find him, where?" Fraser sat down in an arm chair, trying to steady his reeling mind.
"He was caught stealing out of Mr. Franklin's truck, Ben had his hunting knife and the contents of his wallet." Maggie explained. Concern snapped Fraser back to reality.
"Stealing, oh dear." How many times had Fraser dealt with boys just this age who'd stolen? Now the shoe was on the other foot. "What ever for?"
"I wanted to get away from the children's home, no one misses me there." Ben shoved the rest of his crumpet into his mouth, swallowing loudly.
"Victoria, your mother," Fraser paused, trying to wrap his head around the idea of having a son, of his one weakness having his child, "her letter sounds like she cares for you." The mountie looked at his sister, both of them recalled how Bob Fraser had reacted to the revelation of having a daughter.
"If she cared so much then why did she keep on driving for bank robbers, holding up armored trucks, I'm in the eighth grade and been in seven different schools." A spark ignited in the boy's hard, green eyes as he spoke. Fraser felt the hurt in his voice. Victoria was many things but Fraser wondered how maternal she was.
"I knew that woman was still going to be trouble, never gone." Fraser sat up like someone had goosed him in the ribs. He hadn't heard that familiar voice in a dozen years. Looking around it took a moment for Fraser to find the old man. He found him, standing in the corner, wearing his red uniform and chopped off, funeral Stetson. Fraser looked to Maggie, hoping she saw him too. The wild, excited expression in her Arctic blue eyes told him she did.
"My mother is not 'that woman', you old geezer." Ben saw both Fraser and Maggie shaking their heads at him. Turnbull jumped on the switch in conversation.
"Victoria's been gone for nearly fourteen years, Son." The junior mountie looked distressed, his brows furrowed and his lips pulled into a thin line. A quiet voice in the hallway caught Fraser's attention, it was a good excuse to send Turnbull out of the room.
"I believe Mr. Gordon called for you, Turnbull." Fraser motioned toward the door. Like Pavlov's dog, the blond mountie rushed to the ambassador's office, leaving his compatriots to talk. Once the door was firmly closed Fraser got to his feet.
"What are you doing here, Dad?" Fraser spoke first, his eyes wide and wild as he watches the old ghost saunter into the middle of the room as if her were commanding the entire Canadian army.
"I came to help, Son, seems you have a problem on your hands," Bob Fraser looked down at his grandson, studying the boy's face.
"Another relative I don't know?" Ben looked to Maggie for an explanation.
"I'm your granddad, my boy, Robert Fraser, formerly of the RCMP, just like these two." With a stubby finger Robert pointed to his two, grown children who both wore formal, red serge uniforms.
"If you're retired then why are you wearing that red, Santa suit?" Ben pointed out, wishing he'd never laid eyes on Mr. Franklin's nasty, Ford truck. Benton began massaging the bridge of his nose, laughter making his shoulders quake.
"He's the reason I came to Chicago initially, I came searching for the man that killed him, eventually I discovered that it was his partner (Insert Name Here)," Fraser would have continued telling the story but his father waved him off.
"You all are so weird." Ben sat back against the floral printed couch, arms crossed across his chest. Annoyed, the boy began toying with his mildly imperfect eyetooth with the tip of his tongue. Maggie had seen him do that often since she'd taken him under her wing. Regardless of parentage, he was troubled. Ben had been forced to grow up too soon.
"You still haven't told me why you were found stealing from Mr. Gordon, Ben." The mountie called the boy by name, feeling the taste of unfamiliarity on his tongue. For a moment Fraser wondered if Victoria had named him Benton or just Ben.
"I told you, to get as far away from the children's home as I could, I hate that place." The spark in the boy's eyes revived.
"Were you trying to runaway from the children's home to get to Chicago, Ben?" Maggie's voice spoke softly, with the care and concern of a mother.
"What do you think." Ben answered sullenly, not looking at anyone in the room.
"When I was a boy, growing up in the high Yukon, I would often wander the woods around my grandparents' house, hoping to see my father's dog sled team coming down the path, my mother had died and my grandparents did the best they could, but I longed to see my father, to know he loved me." Bob Fraser harrumphed as he stood by the window, looking at the barren trees outside. "It's only natural." Benton gazed steadily into the boy's eyes. A knock on the door announced Turnbull's return.
"Constable Fraser, sorry to disturb you, but you have a phone call." Turnbull spoke in a loud whisper as he stuck his head in through the sliding door.
"Thank you, Turnbull, take a message for me, please." Fraser dismissed the younger mountie.
"Forgive me, Sir, but it's long distance, it's a Ms. Victoria Metcalf, I thought you may wish to speak with her." Fraser motioned for Ben to follow him to the small office down the hall from the drawing room. The boy slowly rose to his feet, annoyed and kinda worried about talking to his mother after so long.
"Fraser here," the mountie listened to the woman on the other end, the one that had a way of blurring his usually unerring vision.
"Fraser, this is Victoria," She paused, not knowing what to say.
"Why didn't you tell me you were with child, Victoria?" Benton didn't sound as angry as she'd expected, but then she considered the source.
"I knew you'd search Heaven and Hell to catch me, Ben." he could hear the knowing in her voice. They knew each other better than anyone else, knew how to punch the buttons no one ever found. Benton felt the pain of her leaving as much as if it had been the day before, not fourteen years ago.
"Yes, I suppose I would have. I would stood beside you." Fraser turned his back to Ben, speaking low.
"Hard to stand with someone when you're lying flat of your back in the hospital wounded, I hope your partner has improved his aim." Victoria hears the silence on the other end and wished she hadn't said anything. "Is Ben there, I called the home to check on him and they told me that a relative had taken him to see his father." Talking about Ben was safe, it didn't open old wounds.
"Yes, here he is." Fraser handed the desk telephone to the boy, his worry evident on his thin face.
"Hi, Mom," It had been too long since he'd heard his mother's voice. She only got so much phone time and usually all they could get through to each other was an 'I love you'.
"Yeah, I met my aunt Maggie first, she's the one that brought me down here, she's real nice, she has a dog that's part wolf." Fraser listened as the boy's voice gained excitement. He wondered if he'd sounded like that as a boy. They talked for a moment before Ben said good-bye and handed the phone back to Fraser.
"Benton, take care of him, there are people out there that would like to get their hands on our boy, they may think he knows where some of the money is, I was wrong not to tell you about him, as much as I love both of you, I wanted my freedom more and I knew you'd find me, no matter where I ran." Fraser took a deep breath before speaking again. The old pain had crept back in, feeling like his body did when the weather changed for the worse and his knife and gunshot wounds ached.
"I'll take care of him, Victoria, you have my word." She knew that the mountie's word was absolute, nothing would stop him. Fraser hung up and pasted on a carefree expression.
"So what happens now?" Ben paused, unsure of what to call the man standing in front of him.
"I will have to see about that, Ben, right now I'll escort you and Maggie to my apartment." Fraser smiled, looking him in the eye. Together they walked down the hall to the drawing room where Maggie and Turnbull were discussing a Curling match on television. Aurora and Diefenbaker sat in front of the set, just as interested in the cold sport as the humans.
"Constable Turnbull, I have to leave the consulate for a while, I'll be back this afternoon." Fraser repeated himself, tapping the junior officer on the shoulder.
"Oh, yes, Sir, I'll inform Mr. Gordon." The younger mountie snapped off the thirty-six inch, flat, plasma screen and stood at attention, his brass buttons straining to contain their burden.
Scene Break
Fraser walked behind his sister along the broken, cement sidewalk. Diefenbaker and Aurora trailed along behind him, exploring the world through their sensitive noses. The constable let his thoughts drift as he walked. He didn't know what to do with a child in the best of times, but what was he to do with a thirteen year old boy? Benton wanted a family of his own. Instead he had a best friend, a wolf and a half sister. Life was comfortable, routine, without a family waiting at home. It was also lonely as hell. Benton would never have considered that his biological clock ticked, much less that he had one at all. Instead he kept himself busy working cases with Ray and attending to his duties at the consulate.
"Benton, do you hear me?" Maggie smiled, waving her hand before Fraser's glazed eyes.
"Pardon?" The mountie snapped to attention.
"Would you like to introduce Ben to Ray before we get to your apartment?" the lady mountie studied her half brother, wondering where his mind had taken him off to so far away.
"Yes, right, I suppose Ray would enjoy meeting you." Fraser took a deep breath before speaking, as if the extra oxygen cleared his mind.
"Who's Ray, another crazy relative?" Ben rolled his eyes, tiring of the show and tell round his aunt insisted on.
"Ray Kowalski is a friend of ours, he's a police lieutenant here in Chicago." Fraser answered dryly. Ben just rolled his eyes and followed along.
Fraser led the way through the newly remodeled police precinct. After more than twenty years, the place had been painted something other than mint green. Fresh, butter cream walls radiated warmth in the mid-morning light through high windows. The bull pen had changed very little over the years. New, flat computer screens shone in uniform rows down both sides of the large room. With a nod to several detectives, Fraser made his way to the lieutenant's office and pecked on the door. As usual, Ray sat behind the desk, telephone parked on his ear and a cup of coffee in his hand. When he looked up his expression eased a bit. With his free hand, Ray motioned the Canadian into the office. Following him was Maggie, two dogs and a teenage boy. Maggie and the dogs were expected, but the boy threw the lieutenant for a loop.
"Yes, Sir, I'll do that. You have a good day." The middle-aged detective feigned courtesy with his superiors. Hanging up he ran a hand over his face as if to clear the bad experience from his mind.
"Who have we here?" Ray stood up and walked around the desk to hug the lady RCMP officer warmly. Maggie wore her hair shorter than the first time they'd met but hadn't changed much since then. Her blue eyes still had a way of giving the detective the warm fuzzies every time she glanced his way while her smile made him lose all sense of time.
"Ray, I would like you to meet Ben, my son." Fraser watched his best friend do a double take as he held his hand out for the boy to shake. Mouth agape, Ray asked,
"Son, how, when?" Ray strung a few more interrogatives into the sentence before Fraser could answer.
"I told you of Victoria Metcalf?" Fraser didn't have to say anymore, Ray had gathered the rest from what Fraser and Francesca had told him. A dozen things crossed the new lieutenant's mind as he looked more closely at the boy. Sure enough, the dark hair and bone structure betrayed his parentage, but still, it was hard to imagine Fraser having a child, or doing anything that having a child required for that matter.
"Yeah, that chick that robbed that bank, the one Ray Vecchio shot you in the back for." Ray summed it up rather nastily. Fraser winced at the mention of the old wound. It still gave him trouble from time to time.
"Yes, for lack of a better summary." The constable drew himself to his full height, one thumb nail smoothing an eyebrow. It was one of the few signs Fraser had to show his annoyance.
"My mom shot you in the back?" Ben's eyes widened in awe. He'd never known someone who'd been shot before.
"No, I was running along side the L-train, in an attempt to catch up to your mother. Detective Ray Vecchio, who later went into deep cover for the FBI, thought mistakenly that Victoria had a handgun as she stood on the bottom step of the moving train. His aim went amiss, resulting in a severe gunshot wound to my lower lumbar region." Fraser explained in his usual, wordy fashion. It took a while to get used to, but most people did.
"Wow, that stinks." Ben shrugged, a new respect evident in his tone. "Do you do that kind of thing everyday?" The three cops looked at each other with knowing expressions.
"At least once a week it feels like." Ray answered. Wherever Fraser went he had a tendency to find trouble. His best intentions usually ended up leading him and whoever accompanied him into unusual and often dangerous situations.
"So, is the kid here for the ten cent tour or is this a permanent arrangement?" The lieutenant sat down, motioning for his company to have seats as well.
"I have a lot to consider before making any decision about what's best for Ben." Benton answered, his thoughts already a million miles away.
"Hello, the kid is right here and he can hear you." Ben interjected, annoyed at being talked about while still in the room.
"My apologies." Fraser grimaced. It was quite a quandary.