On the way home ….
Meg had seen turtles in the zoo move faster than Fraser drove. Dief sticking his nose in between the front seats didn't help either. All Meg wanted was a shower and an uninterrupted nap.
"Fraser, let me out at the front door." Meg pointed to the glass, double doors of her building. Every parking spot along the street had been filled.
"Yes, Sir." Fraser answered, but didn't stop. Instead he turned right, still poking along though someone behind him laid on the horn.
"Fraser, I said the front door." Meg barely kept herself from snapping.
"Yes, Sir, I understand, perhaps a parking spot will open up once we've driven around the block."
Meg pinched the bridge of her nose, reminding herself he meant well and he was doing her a favor.
"The sooner the better." she muttered. Thankfully, Fraser picked up the pace to twenty miles and hour.
Fraser found a spot near the corner, not terribly far from the door. Dief jumped out and found a spot in the sun beside the glass doors. Fraser hovered beside Meg as she let herself into the building then up the elevator to her apartment.
"I take it you're coming in." Meg stated as she unlocked two deadbolts and the knob. She glanced over her shoulder to see the Mountie digging at his eyebrow.
"Why not, he's been brave enough to come this far." she thought.
"Come in, Constable, just for a moment." Meg invited as she turned back to open the door. Quietly, Fraser followed Meg inside. She wondered what he thought of her cozy quarters. Did he like her taste in décor? Meg had seen his apartment; Spartan as it was. How did hers compare?
"Would you like something for lunch, Sir?"
Meg laid her purse on the cherry coffee table and sat down on the navy, velvet couch to the left of the front door.
"No, thank you, I'll eat a bite later, right now I just want to rest." she answered, slipping out of her flats before putting them under the coffee table. Food did sound good but she also felt bone tired.
Meanwhile, Fraser had chosen to investigate the small kitchen to the right of the front door. Meg heard the refrigerator open and close before he came back to the living room.
"Perhaps a grilled cheese sandwich?" Fraser suggested persistently. Meg couldn't resist, feeling guilty when she saw his concern.
"Yes, grilled cheese, I think I have tomato soup as well. Let me look." Meg began to get up.
"Oh no, Sir, I'll find everything, you should rest." Fraser assured her, gesturing for her to stay put.
"Have it your way, Constable." Meg muttered as she settled back onto the comfy couch.
Ben felt strange rummaging through the Inspector's cabinets. He knew, logically, that they didn't harbor any secrets. Still, he glimpsed a domestic side to her. He found fudge in the refrigerator, next to a homemade fruit salad and bottled water.
When he looked into the living room, wondering if the Inspector wanted a grilled cheese sandwich, he saw her sitting on the sofa with her bare feet on the coffee table. He'd never seen her so relaxed, especially around him. The thought struck Ben, I could imagine myself living here with her. He could see himself cooking for her, talking about the days' events before sitting down to eat. A wave of sadness washed his daydream away. Pushing it aside, Ben set to cooking.
Meg stared at the clock for a moment wondering what time the nurse said to take her antibiotics and pain meds. She began looking through the paperwork for times but the size six font blurred without her glasses.
"Stupid glasses," Meg muttered as she fished in the end table's drawer for her spare pair.
Once perched on her nose, Meg's glasses cleared up the fuzzy font.
"Here it is, pain meds four times a day, antibiotics three. I take the pain meds now the antibiotics with dinner and the pain pills again at bed time."
"Sir, dinner is ready." Fraser's voice cut off abruptly.
Meg looked up to see him staring at her, his eyes wide and mouth agape. She pulled her glasses off and shoved them in the drawer in one, fluid motion.
"Ah, grilled cheese, thank you, Constable Fraser." Meg glimpsed dejected resignation on his face a moment before his Mountie mask went back up.
"Grilled cheese, tomato soup and celery garnish. Is there anything else you'd like before I leave?" Fraser asked politely – stiffly.
"There's only one? Aren't you joining me?" Meg blurted out. She'd taken a pain pill and it hit her hard and suddenly. She felt very – mellow.
"I really should be going, you need to rest, Sir."
Dief stood up, ambled over to the couch and laid down beside Meg. The wolf obviously didn't intend to leave.
"Very well," Fraser removed his Stetson and then went back to the kitchen. A few minutes later he came out carrying sandwiches on a plate. He set one on a Styrofoam plate before Dief.
Meg and Dief devoured their sandwiches. Fraser focused on the bowl of tomato soup he'd made a second trip to retrieve.
"That was delicious, I could eat a second sandwich." Meg complimented as she tried to stand. Awkwardly, she fell backwards, back onto the couch. She heard Fraser mutter, oh dear, before he stood up to relieve her of the plate and bowl.
"I do need to rest." Meg admitted. She took a few deep breaths to steady herself.
"I hope I'll be able to go to the consulate tomorrow." Meg thought to herself.
Fraser came back to the living room and sat down to finish his grilled cheese and tomato soup. Meg looked longingly at his as yet uneaten sandwich. The Mountie looked up to see both Meg and Dief eying his food.
"Would you care for half my grilled cheese sandwich, Sir?"
Meg smiled briefly as she nodded. Fraser tore the cheesy sandwich in half. Dief scarfed down the other half from Fraser's hand. He shook his head at his greedy companion.
After washing the handful of dishes he'd used, Fraser edged toward the door.
"I should go, you need to rest," he fiddled with his Stetson, looking down at his boots.
Meg nodded, too drowsy to think clearly. She sat on the couch, content to stay there for the night. Her eyelids felt heavy.
"G' night, Fraser," The last thing Meg saw was the Mountie laying a chenille lap throw over her.
"Good night, ma'am."
Meg would later wonder if his whispered words and feather light caress were a dream.