Here I stand; I can do no otherwise. God help me. Amen.
~Luther.
Monday …
Meg had three days to make a game plan. A female RCMP inspector didn't rise to that rank so quickly without persistence and determination.
Over her lunch hour, and on her personal cellular, Meg made several phone calls. None of them pertained to consular business. Using her cellular phone meant no one would pick up the consulate line and overhear.
"I'm more than just a pretty face." Meg muttered as she pushed the button to disconnect.
Friday …
Eight PM …
"Here you go, Diefenbaker, Alpo and tuna." Ben frowned as he set the wolf-dog's stainless steel dish on the kitchen linoleum. Dief gave a happy yip and profuse tail wags before digging in.
Ben shook his head as he grabbed his own dinner; pinto beans, cornbread and a tuna patty. Bubba George, a homeless gentleman originally from Kentucky, had recently taught him how to cook the southern comfort food. Francesca Vecchio's Christmas gift of a small crock pot would come in handy.
"Constable Fraser," interrupted Ben's first bite.
"Just a moment please," Ben called as he laid aside his cloth napkin to rise.
"Inspector Thatcher," he said, surprised at her unannounced arrival after officer hours.
"I'm not intruding?" she asked, a hint of restrained irritation in her voice.
"No, Sir, I was just sitting down to dinner. Would you like a bowl of pinto beans?" Ben offered, standing aside for her to enter the kitchen.
"No, thank you."
Ben watched the Inspector glance around the utilitarian kitchen. She turned back to him after she noticed Ben watching.
"May I take your jacket, Ma'am?" he offered, relying on manners to see him through the awkwardness. She handed him the thin, red business jacket, revealing her pearl white blouse beneath.
"As you know, I've applied to an adoption agency," she began.
Boy, did Ben ever remember that misunderstanding. How could he forget standing in front of her, heart in hand, offering to father a child?
"Yes, Sir." Ben nodded, pulling out the other kitchen chair.
"Please, call me 'Margaret', this isn't a consular matter. I hope we can talk, ah, person-to-person."
Ben watched her smooth her dark gray skirt over long, tone legs.
"Fraser?" Her voice brought him back to reality with a jar.
"Pardon?" He felt his face and ears burn as her dark eyes studied him.
"I said, may I call you 'Benton'?" She pursed her lips, a small show of annoyance.
"Yes, Ma'am, ah, Margaret." Ben corrected on the fly.
"I received a letter today, a rejection letter." She pulled an envelope from her purse and handed it to Ben.
"Read it." she let out a growl-ish sigh.
"We did everything right, the paperwork, home inspection, background and financial checks, all of it, still, they denied my application."
From the corner of his eye, Ben saw her wipe her eyes.
"Too dangerous an occupation, not a two-parent home. Rubbish." Margaret pronounced harshly.
"Perhaps another agency …" Ben began, trying to be helpful.
"No," Margaret barked, her face tight.
"No, I'd only get the same answer, even back home." her voice softened.
"That's why I came to talk to you," She met Ben's gaze as she worried her bottom lip with her teeth. "I'll pay you for a sperm donation, ten thousand upon successful conception."
Ben felt his head spin and his breathing stop.
"S-s-s-sperm, sperm donation?" He sputtered. Almost immediately Ben bent over, his head between his knees.
"Breathe, Fraser, breathe in, then out."
He felt her hand on his back as spots danced before his eyes.
"Oh dear," he muttered, straightening up finally.
"I'll, ah, I'll have to … to, to, um, think it over." he managed, not meeting Margaret's eye.
"When?" she asked eagerly.
"Monday morning, before my shift." Ben answered, somewhat back to himself.
"Very well, I'll meet you for coffee at the corner cafe, promptly at seven." With a nod, Margaret collected her purse and jacket before leaving.
The consulate door firmly closed, Diefenbaker came out of hiding in Fraser's office. He'd sensed his human's distress but couldn't bring himself to render aid while the female had been there. He sat at Ben's side and gave a pathetic whine of sympathy.
"I take it you heard her proposal." Ben stroked Dief's head gently. The wolf-dog cocked his head to the side, curious.
"She caught me quite unaware, I must say." Ben absentmindedly began digging at his eyebrow.
"I'm baffled at her reasoning. It would seem more profitable, more agreeable, if she wanted a genuine relationship." He shook his head. People around him rarely saw things in black and white as he did.
"I would give her a child if she wanted a proper relationship together." Ben thought to himself with a sigh. Dief gave a sarcastic groan and laid down; sphinx-like.
"Pigs may fly yet, you never know." Ben retorted.
"She won't like my answer a'tal." Ben said aloud to himself.