Angel in Red

Saturday morning while Ben and Dief ate breakfast they heard a knock on the front door.

"Hmm, that's unusual," Ben thought as he jogged to answer it. Opening the door he came face to face with Mr. Mustaffi, who looked irritated.

"There's a phone call for you, Constable Fraser." His clipped accent reminded Ben of a soccer announcer he'd heard as a boy.

"Thank you kindly, Mr. Mustaffi." Ben followed the fifty-something gentleman next door to his apartment and picked up the telephone.

"Constable Fraser,"

Inspector Thatcher cut him off halfway through his greeting.

"I need you to come to Cook County General Hospital. It's important." She gave him specific instructions on what to bring.

Cook County General Hospital Emergency Room ….

Fraser carried a manila envelope under his arm as he walked to the receptionists' desk. The thirty-something brunette greed him with a bright smile on second glance.

"May I speak to Inspector Margaret Thatcher, she called me to meet her here." Ben held up the envelope as proof of purpose.

"Follow me," The receptionist released the door and escorted the off-duty Mountie through the maze of exam rooms.

"You wished to see me, Inspector?" Fraser asked as he stood at the foot of the ER gurney. She looked at him, her lips pursed and eyes narrowed.

"Yes, obviously, or I wouldn't have called. Did you bring the file I requested?" Thatcher fussed with the IV in the back of her left hand.

"Yes, Sir,"

From somewhere to the rear Ben heard a muffled snicker.

"Sorry,"

Fraser whirled around to see a young, black nurse stifling an easy smile.

"I have paperwork for you to fill out." Contrite, the nurse handed Meg a clipboard and a pen.

"Have you contacted your next-of-kin?" The nurse gave Fraser a speedy once over as she stepped back.

Meg noticed her face glow. Ben seemed unaffected by the subtle attention.

"Yes, may I have a moment alone?" Meg dismissed the nurse before focusing on Fraser.

"Next-of-kin, Sir?" Fraser asked, stepping closer to the Inspector's side.

"I've been feeling uncomfortable for the last several days. This morning I drove myself here. Dr. English confirmed my suspicions; appendicitis. I'm to have surgery in a few hours time." Meg hesitated to ask her next question – a favor.

"My family is home, in Ottawa, unable to come. Constable Fraser, would you be my representative, should anything happen?" She studied his face, waiting for a polite bail out.

"It's a routine procedure, and this isn't he first time I've been put under, I assure you, nothing will happen. This is just a formality." Meg rushed to allay his questions.

"I'll do it."

Meg blinked, surprised at Fraser's answer.

"Thank you, Fraser, I'm very grateful." It wasn't easy for Meg to feel indebted to anyone, but especially to her troublesome junior officer.

"You're welcome, Sir." Fraser nodded, his eyes locked onto hers.

To break the silence, Meg quickly walked Fraser through her advance directive; the manila envelope he'd been holding for over an hour.

Meg swallowed hard as she watched the florescent lights go by overhead. A nurse had laid a warm blanket over her but she shivered regardless. The only other time Meg had been under anesthesia was to have her wisdom teeth cut out as a teenager. The thoughts of going under again terrified her. How would she know what was going on?
"Fraser will take care of me. I can trust him." Meg told herself. With a sigh she laid back and let the medical team work.

Ben sat in the operating room waiting room by himself. Dief had gone off to the Vecchio house for lunch and Ray had a shift at the Twenty-seventh Precinct.

"Why would Inspector Thatcher choose me as her representative? She barely tolerates me." He thought back to being fired and the transfer she held over his head.

"If it wasn't for Ray, I'd be in the same situation." The thought chilled the Mountie. Would anyone but the Vecchios mourn him should something happen? What would happen to Dief?
"Feeling your own mortality, Son?"

Ben turned to find his father's ghost sitting beside him. The old man had a steady gaze, an unnerving gaze sometimes.

"Just thinking about the future, Dad." Ben answered, digging his thumbnail across his eyebrow.

"Take care of things now, while you can. I still don't have any grandchildren."

Ben hung his head. They'd had this conversation time and again.

"Now. Before you start, think about it. You're the last of your line, It'd be a shame to let the Fraser name die, Son." Fraser Sr. gestured with his hand, the other resting on his jodhpur clad knee.

"It isn't my fault you left me an only child." Ben snapped before he thought. Hurt in his father's eyes made the Mountie instantly regret his words.

"Just trying to give a little advice." Fraser Sr. sulled up, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Dad …." Ben began.

"Constable Fraser," An OR nurse called before the Mountie could finish.

"Yes?" Ben looked from his father to the nurse who'd snickered in the ER.

"Dr. English needs to speak to you." Now the African-American nurse wore a concerned expression.

Meg found herself standing on a pot holed street lined with rundown businesses. A chilly wind blew against her face. A plastic bag skipped past, carried on the same breeze. Garbage lined the gutter. The stripped husk of a luxury car sat to her right. For a moment Meg wondered if it were one of the consulate cars.

Screeching tires made her turn to the other end of the block. A dull, red Ford LTD fishtailed, barely hanging in long enough to make the turn. The driver, a man with dark hair and a fearless set to his thin face, steered the big car straight for Meg. He accelerated as if he saw no obstacles. Meg panicked, covering her face with both hands. Her whole body tensed, breathing stopped and stomach clenched.

A rush of wind and a deafening crash roused Meg from her breathlessness. Peeking from between her fingers, she saw her bare feet and legs still intact. Her white hospital gown fluttered in the breeze. Nothing had happened.

"Damn," a male voice behind her cursed loudly.

Turning, Meg saw the Ford's driver stumbling out of the wreckage. He'd hit a pothole, throwing the car, then crashed into the stripped luxury sedan.

"It passed right through me." Meg didn't marvel aloud long.

"Stop!" Fraser's voice called as he ran hard after his wolf.

"I can't believe this guy." the driver muttered as he began stumbling toward the nearest building; a five story apartment building.

Meg began shouting, demanding Fraser tell her what was going on. The Mountie didn't bat an eyelash, he and the wolf dodged the wrecked Ford and took off toward the apartment building. Meg ran after them, still shouting at her junior officer. The driver led them up a fire escape and across the roof. Meg wondered how the driver kept ahead of Fraser and the wolf, she could barely keep up.

Meg watched in horror a few seconds later as Fraser jumped several feet from the roof of the apartment building to the roof of another building. His Stetson brim caught the wind and flew backward, off his head. Both men and the wolf made the leap successfully. What happened next chilled Meg to the bone. Fraser ran two strides and disappeared. It seemed as if the red brick building swallowed him whole. One second the red serge clad figure ran like the wind, the next nothing to be seen. Dief continued chasing the driver, oblivious to Fraser's absence.

Meg tried to jump; to get to Fraser. In mid-air she disappeared. The next thing she remembered was an obnoxiously bright light in her eyes and masked people peering down at her.

"She's back, thank you, God." a familiar male voice said.