Chapter 3.

A few hours later Fraser was laying on his back on his makeshift bed with his hands clasped behind his head. He'd been unable to sleep, despite being very tired and he'd already crept up the stairs once to check on Amy and twice into the other room to make sure that Meg was alright too. He'd also been thinking about Nicole Lavine and her young son. Ray had been absolutely right of course, he had avoided becoming involved, despite his concerns for her situation, because of his preoccupation with Meg. He vowed to rectify that situation in the morning.

He sighed and looked across at Dief who was also still awake. "I don't know what you're staring at?" he said rather curtly. Dief whined and put his head on his paws. "I admit that I may have made an error of judgement, but I'll sort it out. I am expecting her to return to collect her passports tomorrow so I will speak to her then." Dief made another noise in his throat. Fraser propped himself up on one elbow. "Oh I'm so glad that meets with your approval!" he snapped sarcastically, before deliberately rolling over so that he was facing away from the animal. "Go to sleep," he ordered, as much to himself as to Diefenbaker.

Within a few minutes, Fraser finally felt his eyelids becoming heavy, but before he was completely asleep, a noise snapped him back to full consciousness and he sat bolt upright to find Dief already on his feet, pawing at the door. "Amy," he sighed as he heard the little girl's footsteps coming down the stairs. He walked out into the hall to find her standing by the desk crying. "What's the matter?" he asked gently.

"I had a bad dream," replied Amy, tearfully.

Fraser crouched down on one knee and she gratefully ran into his outstretched arms. "It's alright," he tried to reassure her. "Would you like some milk?" he asked, pulling back slightly. Amy nodded silently. Fraser led her into his room and she sat on the edge of his bed. Dief jumped up to sit beside her. Fraser rushed off to the kitchen, returning moments later with a glass of milk. Amy took it from him and began to drink it, the coolness helped to calm her.

"Where's Auntie Meg?" she asked.

"She's asleep on the sofa," replied Fraser, "she, um, wasn't feeling very well." Amy looked a little worried. "I'm sure she'll be fine in the morning. Why don't you tell me about your dream?" prompted Fraser. Amy remained silent. Fraser wished Ray had stayed after all, Ray always seemed to find interacting with small children much easier than he did.

"My arm hurts," she sniffed. Clearly she would rather not talk about her nightmare. "I took my medicine, but it still hurts." She had removed her sling to go to bed, but now she was holding her wrist across her chest, supporting her arm with her other hand.

"Oh dear," replied Fraser, finally feeling that this was something he could do something about, "maybe I can help you with that. Can you show me?"

Amy slipped the wide strap of her nightdress off her shoulder, revealing the full extent of the bruising she had sustained in the accident and she pointed to the areas that were causing her the most discomfort. Fraser felt so sorry for her. He walked around to the other side of his desk and took a small jar out of the bottom drawer. As he walked back towards Amy, he unscrewed the lid and waved the jar under his nose. "Ah," he said. Amy frowned at him. "Now Amy," he began, "I believe that Ray would complain about the aroma of this particular substance, however, I can assure you that it's pain relieving properties are second to none." Amy wasn't sure she understood what he'd just said, but she nodded anyway. "If I apply this to your shoulder you should feel some instant relief." Amy looked suddenly nervous. "It's alright," Fraser said reassuringly, "I won't hurt you, I promise."

Somewhat reluctantly, Amy nodded and as Fraser began to carefully apply the ointment to her bruises. She smiled at him. "It feels all warm," she said.

"Good," Fraser smiled back.

"Why does it smell funny?" she asked.

"Well," he began, but then he remembered that Ray always preferred not to know what was in some of his natural remedies, so instead he said, "some of the ingredients do carry a particularly overpowering pungency don't they."

Amy didn't know what 'pungency' meant, but it sounded like a funny word to her so she laughed. "You're funny Constable Fraser," she said.

Fraser was pleased to see a smile had returned to her face. "You don't have to call me that," he said, "if you prefer, you may call me Benton, as that is my given name."

Amy giggled. "That's a funny name," she said.

"So people keep telling me," Fraser frowned and laughed simultaneously.

"My name only has three letters in it," Amy pondered for a moment, "so can I call you Ben?"

Fraser nodded. "Of course you can," he replied, "some people do prefer to use that contracted version of my name." Amy giggled again. He was using more words she didn't understand, but she didn't really mind, at least he wasn't treating her like a baby like her Auntie Meg did.

"I was dreaming about them trying to get me out," Amy said quietly, her face suddenly serious again.

Fraser pulled the strap of her nightdress back into position. "I see," he said, "I imagine it was a terrifying experience for you." Amy nodded. "Do you remember the accident or did you sustain a concussion?" Amy looked puzzled. "Did you get a bump on the head?" he clarified.

"No, only on my shoulder," replied Amy. "I remember that they had to cut off the roof of my dad's car and pull me out. My dad was screaming...I wish my mum was here..." Amy started to cry again and Fraser sat beside her on the bed, wiping his hands on a towel.

"Has your Auntie Meg told you what's happening with your mum?" Fraser asked gently, but he had a feeling he already knew the answer.

"No," replied Amy shaking her head. "She just said she and my dad have got to stay in the hospital, but I didn't have to, so she was going to take care of me for a while."

Although Fraser understood why Meg had avoided the subject, he felt that at eight years old, Amy was old enough to understand the basic truth about what was happening so he proceeded to tell her, in the most appropriate language he could think of, all about her mother's situation. He tried his best to be honest without frightening her. Amy seemed to take it all in and she asked a few questions that Fraser was able to answer which seemed to put her mind at rest. Finally she asked the one question that Fraser had hoped she wouldn't ask. "Is my mum going to die?"

Fraser took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, but I don't know Amy," he said, wrapping her hand in both of his, "but I do know that she has lots of doctors taking care of her and they are doing everything they can to stop that happening. We just have to wait and hope. We'll know more soon."

"Why didn't they let me see her?" asked Amy.

"Well," began Fraser, "sometimes it can be somewhat frightening to see someone you love when they're hurt. There will be lots of machines that are looking after her and if you don't understand what they're all for it can be a little overwhelming." Amy nodded again. "Is there anything else you'd like to ask?" added Fraser.

"Why does Auntie Meg treat me like I'm dumb?" she asked.

Fraser frowned. "I'm sure she doesn't," he protested.

"She does," replied the girl, "she said my mum was fine, but she's not fine. Why did she lie to me? I knew she was lying."

"Amy," Fraser really didn't know how to answer that one, "your Aunt hasn't seen you for a few years and perhaps she hasn't realised how grown up you are now? She was trying to protect you. She didn't want to see you upset."

"I don't think Auntie Meg and my mum like each other," she sighed, "my mum says Auntie Meg is too busy being a Mountie to be interested in us any more."

Fraser closed his eyes briefly and then opened them to look directly at Amy. "Amy, your Aunt loves you very much." Amy shrugged with her one good shoulder and yawned. "Let me take you back up to bed," said Fraser scooping the little girl up into his arms.

"Can't I stay here with you?" she asked, sadly.

"The bed in the Queen's bedroom is much more comfortable than my bed," replied Fraser as he carried her up the stairs, with Dief bounding ahead.

"The Queen's bedroom?" replied Amy in amazement.

"Yes," said Fraser, smiling, "didn't your Aunt tell you? This bedroom is reserved for the Queen when she visits, but it's alright for you to sleep here tonight as we're not expecting Her Majesty in Chicago for a while."

"Wow!" Amy's eyes were wide now.

Fraser pushed open the door of the bedroom with his foot and carefully laid her down on the bed. "How does your arm feel now?" he asked.

"Better, thank you," replied the girl.

Fraser pulled the covers up over her and tucked them in. "Good night," he smiled. "You know where I am if you need anything. Come along Dief."

As he turned to go, Amy called out to him. "Ben," Fraser turned back, "please can you tell me a story?"

"A story?" Fraser thought for a minute, ignoring the sarcastic whine coming from Dief, "I think I can manage that," he smiled as he sat on the chair next to her bed. "A long time ago," he began, "there was a young Inuit girl named Nilak." Dief whined again and slowly backed out of the door. Fraser continued with his story. "Every day, Nilak would walk through the forest to the stream..." and he proceeded to tell her the one story that he remembered his mother telling him when he was a little boy. Amy was asleep long before he finished, but he finished it anyway and then almost immediately, he too fell asleep in the chair.

XxX

He awoke a few hours later, just as the sun was beginning rise and was pleased to see Amy was still sound asleep. He crept out of her room and back down the stairs to his office where he found Dief asleep on his bed. "There you are," said Fraser, deliberately loud enough to wake the animal. "You may get off now," he instructed and Dief jumped down, somewhat reluctantly.

Fraser began to get dressed, folding his red longjohns tidily and placing them on a chair. He opened the door to his wardrobe and reached in to get his uniform. "Morning son!" came a cheery voice. Fraser groaned to himself and stepped into his father's office.

"Good morning Dad," Fraser tried to sound equally as cheery as he slipped his red tunic on and began fastening the shiny buttons.

"Parenting can be tough Son, but I'm sure you'll soon get the hang of it," Bob Fraser said, pouring himself a cup of tea.

"Parenting?" replied Benton, incredulously, "Dad, she was only staying here for one night."

"Still," Bob went on, "you did a reasonable job with her."

"Oh well, thank you for the high praise Dad," replied Benton, sarcastically.

"There's no need to take that tone with me," said Bob, "I may be dead, but I'm still your father. I could still have you across my knee you know."

"Dad, you never had me across your knee when you were alive!" exclaimed Benton, adding quietly, "you were never there."

"Well, there was that one time," admitted Bob.

"Ah," replied Benton, suddenly remembering. "I'd rather not talk about that, if you don't mind."

"It was a misunderstanding on my part," agreed Bob, "I realise that now, but the girl's father was none to pleased with you either."

"We were practising survival techniques," Benton insisted.

"Well, you can understand how it looked," shrugged Bob.

"Dad, we were seven years old!" Benton was getting annoyed now.

"You're a Fraser, Son," replied Bob, "we've always been early developers."

"Dad!" exclaimed Benton, uncomfortably, "can we please move on?"

"The Québécoise and her son need your help," said Bob, changing the subject as he sipped at his tea.

"I know Dad," sighed Benton, "I should have been more proactive yesterday."

"You'll need the Yank to get involved," added Bob.

"Do you believe that Miss Lavine is involved in criminal activity?" asked Benton, trying to ignore his father's spectacular ability to insult Ray by avoiding the use of his name.

"Surely that's for you and the Yank to determine?" shrugged Bob.

"Ray and I will do everything we can," replied Fraser, with heavy emphasis on his partner's name.

XxX

A short while later, Fraser was busying himself in the kitchen. Turnbull had arrived for work, but Fraser had managed to find some errands that he hoped would keep his colleague away from the Consulate for most of the morning. He heard a noise and, quickly assembling a few items on a tray, he walked along the hall to the reception room. Knocking softly on the door, he heard a muffled "Mmmm," in response and entered the room.

"Good morning Sir," he said softly, placing the tray on the coffee table. Meg was sitting up, with one hand over her mouth and the other poised to grab the bucket.

Fraser crouched at her feet and lifted the bucket. "Are you in need of this?" he enquired.

Meg took a deep breath and shook her head slowly. "I thought...but...no," she said, quite relieved. Fraser put the bucket back on the floor and reached across to the table.

"You should drink this," he said, passing a large glass of water to Meg, "you are terribly dehydrated." Meg nodded and took the glass from him. "I also took the liberty of bringing you some bananas," Fraser continued, "they are high in potassium and your levels will be low at this juncture. Bananas are also a natural antacid which should help with the nausea and contain a high level of magnesium, so will ease your headache."

Meg looked at him as she sipped at her water. The last thing she felt like eating was a banana. In fact she didn't feel like eating anything at all. "Thanks," she managed to say.

"There is also a mug of coffee which I've sweetened with honey as your body will absorb the natural sucrose much faster than from regular sugar," Fraser went on, "and there is a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice as you need to replenish your vitamin C level."

"Fraser, please," sighed Meg, slightly annoyed at the amount of fussing, "I really appreciate all of this, but I think I'd just like some aspirin."

Fraser shook his head. "Sir, combining aspirin with the amount of alcohol currently in your bloodstream could be potentially very dangerous." Meg looked completely confused. "Both are anticoagulants and if you were to be involved in an accident, you could bleed to death as your blood would fail to clot."

"Fraser!" exclaimed Meg, "I am not planning on having an accident, I'm just going to sit here for a while until the room stops spinning."

"Understood," replied Fraser, getting to his feet. "In that case I'll leave you alone, unless there's anything else you need?"

"I think I've got more than enough here," Meg looked towards the tray that Fraser had brought her. Fraser turned to go, but Meg called him back. "How's Amy?" she asked.

"Still asleep," he replied, "she had a nightmare last night and she was experiencing some pain in her shoulder."

Meg sighed. "They told me she was having nightmares in the hospital," she explained. "Not surprising really," she added.

"Indeed," said Fraser and turned to leave again.

"Fraser," Meg called out again, "um, I'm not sure I remember...um, did I...um..."

"Sir, it's quite alright," Fraser tried to reassure her, but before he could say anything else, they heard the front door open and Ray appeared. He gingerly poked his head around the door.

"Er, hi," he said, a little nervously, stepping into the room, "How are ya feelin' Inspector? I brought ya some bananas...oh, I see ya already got some," he laughed and put the bananas down on the coffee table.

"Thank you Detective," replied Meg, a little embarrassed as she was beginning to remember Ray being there last night. "I would like to apologise for my behaviour," she added.

"No need," Ray shook his head, "been there, done that. Too many times, believe me. Not, er, not so much these days though."

"I can assure you that I don't make a habit of it," insisted Meg.

"I know, you're a Mountie!" grinned Ray and Meg managed a small smile. "Look, I get it, there were extrenu, er, extran, um, what are those circumstances Fraser?"

"Extenuating circumstances," confirmed Fraser.

"Yeah, those," agreed Ray. "Where's Amy?" he asked.

"Still in bed," replied Fraser, "she had a somewhat difficult night, unfortunately."

"Poor kid," Ray shook his head, "do ya want me to run up and check on her?"

"Thank you Detective," smiled Meg. "I just need a few more minutes." Ray headed upstairs to see Amy. Fraser peeled a banana and handed it to Meg who sighed and took it from him. She felt incredibly foolish after last night and her headache felt like it was getting worse. She took a bite of the banana.

"Have you given any more thought to the possibility of returning to Toronto today?" Fraser asked.

"Fraser, I'm not going back," replied Meg, determinedly, "I told you that. I'll admit I do feel somewhat guilty about that decision, but that's my final decision. I can't be there, if she does wake up I'm the last person she'll want to see." Meg took another bite of the banana.

"Sir, if you don't mind me enquiring..." began Fraser, somewhat nervously, but Meg interrupted him.

"It was a typical family argument Fraser, if that's what you're asking," she said.

"I'm sorry," replied Fraser, "but I thought that perhaps..."

"You thought that considering that she may be dying, perhaps I should try to forget about it you mean?" Meg interrupted again. Fraser shrugged. That wasn't exactly how he would have put it, but it was exactly what he meant. He'd never had any close family and the thought of having a sister and then not speaking to her for four years was not one that he could comprehend. "Look, Fraser," Meg continued, "really you don't understand." She sighed and choked back the wave of emotion that had suddenly and unexpectedly washed over her. Fraser looked at her with concern. "When my mother passed away, we agreed that Lizzie and Gary could continue living in her house. They'd been living there for over a year to care for my mother anyway and Amy was so young it seemed only right. I still own half the house technically, but I don't need the money. It wasn't that at all, but Lizzie seemed to think that it was."

"Then what was it?" Fraser prompted gently.

"She cleared out all of Mum's things," replied Meg. "All of our memories, things from our childhoods, things that were Dad's, I couldn't believe it. She just threw it all away."

Fraser was quite shocked. She knew that Meg liked to display an air of cold heartedness at times, but Fraser knew she wasn't like that really, not underneath. Ray had given her that nickname that amused him so much, the Ice Queen, but Ray didn't really know her at all. Fraser had seen glimpses of the real Meg Thatcher and he knew that it didn't take much to melt her. However, from what she'd just told him, the nickname might be more suitable for Meg's sister. "Did she give you a reason?" he asked.

Meg shook her head and threw the banana skin down on the tray. "She said if I'd been there to help her with the sorting out, I could have had whatever I wanted, but I was too busy with my career. That's always the thing she throws in my face Fraser, just because I have a successful career and she doesn't."

"May I suggest that she has a career," replied Fraser, "she is a mother. As I understand it, that can be quite a demanding job at times."

Meg laughed. "I wouldn't know," she replied, "and I've talked myself out of the idea of ever finding out for myself now," she smiled and picked up the glass of orange juice.

"You know, Sir, people deal with grief in different ways," suggested Fraser, "perhaps your sister felt that by disposing of everything that reminded her of your mother, she could cope with the loss?"

Meg shrugged. "Perhaps you're right," she said and took a sip of her juice, "but anyway, there was more too it than that. We both said a lot of things in anger and maybe there was an element of grief talking too, who knows? It's too late to repair our relationship now Fraser."

"What about Amy?" asked Fraser, "it's not too late to build a relationship with her. In fact, I think she would welcome it." He paused for a moment, before continuing. "She was asking about her mother last night. I took the liberty of answering some of her questions."

Meg nodded. "Thank you for doing that. I just couldn't," she sighed, "I couldn't find the right words."

"I understand," replied Fraser,, "but I would say that, in my experience, children appreciate it if you are honest with them."

Meg nodded. "I think I'd better go and see Amy." Meg got to her feet and then suddenly wished she hadn't. Fraser quickly handed her the bucket, but she waved it away with her hand and took some deep breaths. "I'm alright Fraser," she said, trying to convince herself as much has him.