Fraser stood at ease, hands clasped behind his back although he wasn't in uniform. It was after midnight, but he knew he wouldn't be alone on the roof much longer. It was all right. Something in him yearned for company, and although Ray wasn't exactly what he was hoping for, he would do.
He was suddenly unutterably weary. He breathed out deeply, leaned forward and braced his arms on the ledge of the roof, stretching out his legs and back. His case was over, the little girl and her father reunited and protected, and perhaps, just perhaps, he could engage in his reflections sitting down.
Seven years old, and already he was a stronger man than I'll ever be.
Or maybe not.
He straightened, and returned his body joint by joint to his customary at-ease position. From where he stood he could see out over the city.
You don't have to help my dad anymore. He's the bravest man in the whole wide world.
He had become accustomed to Ray's driving style, so he recognized the sound of squealing tires and the bump of wheels forcibly ascending a curb not designed for that purpose. Ray's voice, in its staccato urban-Italian rhythms, floated up to him, as did Dief's bark. Fraser wondered if Ray realized he had adopted Fraser's own habit of speaking to the wolf as though he were a human.
The voices faded and a few moments later the roof door was flung open. "Tell you what, Benny," the detective panted. "I've gotten more physical exercise and less sleep since I met you than I did in the Academy. It's after midnight."
Dief trotted to Fraser's side and sat. Fraser rested a hand on the soft white head and kept the other firmly clenched behind his back. "I know, Ray. I'm very sorry."
"Forget it." Ray crossed the roof to stand next to Fraser. He glanced up at Fraser's face, then followed his gaze out, over the rooftops. He was quiet for a moment, but since that wasn't Ray's natural state, Fraser didn't expect it to last.
"So, ah…what are we lookin' at?"
"Canada."
"Isn't Canada like four hundred some miles away?"
"Yes."
"So, you're homesick. I get that."
"I suppose I am. But for the moment I'm here, and that's fine with me, Ray."
"So what's up? You didn't want to get dinner, and then the wolf scratches on my door and tells me I should come check on you." Fraser slid his eyes toward Ray, and Ray shook his head. "Yeah, I can't believe I just said that, but that was basically what he was communicating. I knew it wasn't an emergency, because the wolf wasn't…ah, I don't know, urgent enough or something. But he also wasn't gonna let me go to bed."
"I'm sorry you are missing your sleep, Ray. Diefenbaker may have overreacted. I'm quite fine."
Ray waved a hand. "Forget it," he said again. "I'm here now. So, what's on your mind, Constable?"
Ben cocked his head slightly, trying to figure out a way in to the subject. It felt very personal—yet Ray was his friend, and as far as Ben could recall, the only person he could truly talk to.
"May I ask you something very personal, Ray?"
Ray snorted. "Knock yourself out. I'm an open book."
"You were married, but you don't have any children."
"You're thinking about that little girl."
"Yes."
"Okay, right." Ray ran his hand over his thinning hair. "It was the cop thing. I mean, Ange knew about the life, or I thought she did. But there was this bank job that turned bad, hostages involved, and I was on it, and one of the uniforms took a bullet. We'd been talking about having kids, but she said that even if she could handle it eventually if I died, the cop who went down had two teenaged daughters. I think that was what did it, you know? She was prepared to be a cop widow if it came to it, but she couldn't stand the thought of having to tell a 14-year-old that her daddy won't ever come back."
"Understandable."
"Yeah, I know, but I always wanted a big family, and now I got no family."
Dief whined and moved from Ben's side to Ray's. Ray petted him much as Ben had, fondly and absently.
"What about you, Ben? One of your players ever get past the goalie?"
"Oh, I didn't know you were interested in hockey, Ray. Yes, I have been on many teams where my players scored, even against accomplished goalies. Thank you for asking."
"Quit being an idiot."
"I'm sorry, Ray."
"You know very well I was speaking metaphorically."
"Ah."
"And don't say ah. You know what I mean. Did you ever get a girl pregnant?"
Ben thought of the very few women he had been intimate with. He would have married any one of them, even—he shook his head. He wasn't going to think about her. Anyway, he had always protected them, because he never wanted them to feel pressured or to put them in a situation they weren't happy with.
"Not that I'm aware of."
"You sure? Not even that one you were so into…the one with all the darkness or whatever?"
Ben froze. He swallowed hard. "I thought you were asleep."
"Yeah, that's my mad undercover skills."
"I didn't want—"
"Bull crap. A guy says something like that, he wants someone to know it. He wants someone to know him. I know you, Benny."
"Yes, Ray, it seems you do."
"So, darkness lady?"
"It would have been…" Ben paused, thought. "Bad. To bring a child into that relationship."
"Not the maternal type, huh?"
"No, not exactly."
"It was a stupid question anyway."
"What was?"
"About you getting a woman pregnant."
Ben frowned. Dief whined and lay down on top of Ray's feet. "I'm afraid I don't follow you, Ray. It seemed like a perfectly logical question to me."
"It ain't all about logic, pal. If you were a dad, the whole world would know it. And you sure as hell wouldn't be stationed in Chicago and investigating cases with me at the 27. You'd be out on the tundra or whatever showing your kid how to hunt and track and read scat or whatever it is Canadians do." He blew out a breath and rocked back on his heels. Diefenbaker looked up at him in disgust, stood, and returned to Ben's side. "Fact is, Benny, if you were a dad, we never would have met."
Ben shifted slightly and looked out over the city. Chicago didn't feel like home to him, though he could appreciate new experiences and new kinds of people. But Ray was right, he'd never raise a child here if he had a choice. Children meant home, and home was Canada.
Maybe Ray did know him after all.
Ben tilted his head, genuinely curious. "What do you think would have happened when my father was murdered? It's hard to imagine not looking into that."
Ray shrugged. "Youda looked into it. If the kid was safe, and if you could get back to the Great White North fast enough, youda come down here and yeah, maybe we'da met, but that woulda been it. One case. Even if you put that turncoat Mountie behind bars and all the Mounties were mad at you, even if you had to resign your Mountiehood, youda gone back to be with your kid."
In the distance, Ben could see the lake shimmering under the lights coming from the city. In all the time he'd been in Chicago, he and Ray had never gone out on the lake. He shook his head, ignoring the canine eye roll that came from Dief. This was the problem. He was completely self-sufficient, as many officers of the law were—had to be. If you added to that a good friend who understood the life, most of the time an officer could hardly ask for anything more.
But not all the time. He knew Ray felt it, too. Sometimes a best friend wasn't enough to stem the flood of loneliness that threatened to overwhelm you. Sometimes you needed a woman, a home.
Children.
A little blonde cherub who would say My daddy is the bravest man in the whole world.
A duty that transcended law.
He was afraid to ask the question. He didn't want to know either way.
Dief whine, whoofed softly as if to say You don't want to go there, friend.
"Ray."
'Yeah, Benny. Jesus, don't you have any chairs up here? I been standing up for like twenty straight minutes."
"I'm sorry, Ray. I don't usually spend this much time up here." And of course, it was an exercise in discipline to require himself to stand despite physical and emotional aches. But it was hardly fair to ask that of someone else.
"Yeah, so what were you gonna say?"
"Do you think…" He paused. He didn't know how to say it. It was too deep, even too deep for feelings, so deep it was under all the other emotions that he also didn't let himself feel very often.
"Spit it out, Benny."
Fraser took a deep breath. He was going to have to break open a small piece of his vaulted past. But he could trust Ray. That was one thing he didn't have to worry about.
"A long time ago, I loved a woman."
"Right. The darkness lady." Ray sat down on the edge of the roof and stretched out his legs. It was a more intimate position, because Ben had to either look in his friend's eyes or deliberately avert his gaze.
"Yes. I met her because she committed a crime, and although I loved her, and I believe she loved me, I turned her over to the authorities."
Ray whistled. "That's rough, Benny. But not surprising."
"No. But Mr. Pike made a different choice. He was willing to break the law in order to care for the person he loves."
Ray nodded. "I get it. You were wondering if you'll ever love someone enough to be willing to break the law for them."
Leave it to Ray to cut to the heart of the matter. That was, of course, exactly what he had been wondering. "Yes."
"I sure as hell hope not."
"Oh."
Ray surged to his feet. Dief scrambled back away from Fraser in annoyance, then crossed to a dark corner of the roof and curled up again.
"Don't be an idiot," Ray snapped, pacing away from Fraser and back again. "I'm not saying you couldn't love someone that much. Or that you'll never find someone who's worth it. Or that I don't want you to."
"Oh."
"First of all, I never, ever want to see you batting for the other team." Ray shook his head. "Crime-wise, I mean. You're too damn good a cop. We need you fighting for truth, justice and the…er…North American way.
"I see. Thank you, Ray."
"Second of all, you start breaking laws for the sake of love, then something's wrong. It's not you."
Ben shoved his hands in his pockets. "I suppose not."
Ray ran his hand over his head again. "I'm not explaining this very well."
Ray was right, but it seemed rude to say so.
"Okay, let me try it this way. Say I was dating someone, right?"
"Right. You are dating an imaginary woman."
"No, that's not what I—"
"Sorry. You are imaginarily dating a real woman."
"Uh, yeah. I think so."
"What does she look like?"
"She's gorgeous. Long blonde hair, legs up to here, curves in all the right places—"
"And she's dating you?"
Ray shoved him. "Shut up. Yeah, she's dating me. It's just an example, Benny."
"Understood, Ray." For some reason, the shove made him feel better.
"So let's say that we're dating, but she wants me to start wearing pastel sweaters and penny loafers, to learn to play the lute, and to start writing her sonnets."
"Interesting."
"And she gives me a cute nickname. She starts calling me…uh…Jelly Bean."
"Jelly Bean?"
"Yeah." Ray slid a glance up at Ben. "She thinks it's cute. So, then she starts talking about me quitting the force and going to work as a…stock broker. No, wait. A nurse."
"So, she wants you to be a pastel-wearing, lute playing, poetry writing nurse called Jelly Bean?"
"Yeah. And I'm thinking of marrying her. So, you're my friend, right?"
"Right."
"So what do you do?"
"Wish you happiness?"
"What? You're just going to let me marry that bitch?"
"Well, you obviously love her."
"But she doesn't love me, Benny! She loves a pastel-wearing, lute playing, poetry writing nurse called Jelly Bean!"
"Ah, yes. I see your point."
"And that's what I'm talking about with you!" Ray pumped his fist triumphantly. "A Benny Fraser who would break the law isn't the Benny Fraser I know and love, pal. I'd do everything I could to get you away from her."
"Thank you, Ray. I wonder, though…what if there were a child involved?"
"For God's sake, Benny," Ray snapped. "This is getting really boring."
Ben frowned. Were his deepest hopes and fears really that boring?
"Look," Ray said. "You'll do the right thing for the kid, because that's what you do. You know it and I know it. All right?"
Ben stood up a little straighter. "Yes, Ray. Thank you."
"Can we go sit down now? It's almost one in the morning. I'd kill my mother for a cup of coffee right now."
"I don't have any coffee." Ben turned to him. "But I would gladly brew a cup of bark tea, if that would suffice."
"I guess it'll have to." Ray strode away, not waiting for Ben, mumbling under his breath as he walked. Diefenbaker made a noise and followed after him.
"Thank you kindly, Ray."