Weakness
By Tanya Reed
I know last chapter wasn't very exciting, but it was needed to lead to this one. I hope you like it.
Oh, also, I have no idea if anything that happens in the next two chapters is legally binding. I made it up as I went along for effect. ;)
Disclaimer: I do not own Ben, Meg, Ray, Elaine, Welsh, the Duck Boys, Diefenbaker, or anyone who was on the TV show Due South.
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Ray was sitting at his desk trying to do paperwork but really thinking about how lousy it was that the good guys always seemed to get the rough breaks. It didn't seem right to Ray that Fraser had been arrested for something that any man--and most women--would have done. It was enough to make Ray want to go to that hospital and shake Burrell until he agreed to drop the charges. He was just working himself into a nice temper when he saw her.
She walked into the station purposefully, her beautiful face a stern mask. He watched her, listening to her high heels click on the station floor. Everything about her seemed calm and composed. Her stylish suit looked out of place among the disorganization of the station.
As she approached, she looked into Ray's face. Their eyes met and he suddenly knew the air of poised calm she held around herself was an act. Her brown eyes were troubled and unreadable.
Ray stood to acknowledge her presence and her steps slowed. Inspector Thatcher stared at him for a moment before coming to stand in front of him.
"Hello, Inspector," Ray commented, studying her face.
She seemed to be fighting to keep it impassive but Ray saw wisps of strong emotion flickering there. His gaze lingered at the dark patches under her eyes. How long had it been since she'd slept?
"Thank you for calling me, Detective." Her voice was cool, expressionless.
"I figured you'd want to know...for Consular reasons."
"Yes, RCMP headquarters in Ottawa has been called and they are going to send someone to replace your public defender." Her voice was tight and he didn't miss the hesitation before the name. "He was pin pointed by Mr...Burrell as his attacker?"
Ray nodded. "Yes, ma'am. The man seemed sure of it. Would you like to sit down and sign the paperwork for his release into your custody?"
She bit her lip, suddenly reminding Ray of a child. An uncertainty went over her face, and Ray almost believed he might have seen fear. He dismissed this quickly as he watched her and waited for her answer. Was she going to leave Benny in a jail cell to rot?
As if making up her mind, Inspector Thatcher gave a sharp little nod. "Not yet, Detective. I have something I must discuss with you first. Is there somewhere we could go to speak privately?"
After a moment of surprise, Ray nodded. "I don't think anyone is using Interview Room One."
He led her down the hallway wondering if she knew that Ray had guessed why Fraser lost it. He was certain she must know why herself. Even the Dragon Lady could put two and two together. That, as much as any political reason, had been why Ray had called her. He was planning on trying to bully her into coming forward about what happened. That way, people could see what Fraser's motivation was. Seeing how weary she looked as their eyes met, Ray had changed his mind. Maybe it would be better to let a couple of days go by first.
He snuck a look at her, following so briskly beside him. Her strong face showed nothing of what she was thinking. Ray shrugged internally as he walked into Interview Room One, ushering her in after him.
Shutting the door, he asked, "So, what's on your mind?"
"Fraser."
"What about him?" He motioned her to a seat and took one himself.
"It's my fault he's in here."
Ray frowned. "What do you mean?"
She sighed. "I mean, it's my fault he's in here."
Ray stared at her levelly, not replying. She gazed back, but after a moment, he could see her mask began to crack. She dropped her eyes.
Her voice was steady as she said, "I want to press charges against Glen Burrell."
"The man who Benny beat up?" Ray feigned surprise. "Charges of what?"
"Assault and battery," she answered softly.
Ray felt himself wanting to smile. She was coming forward without him asking, which was something he hadn't believed she'd do. He knew as well as anyone that the woman sitting in front of him was full of pride and that having someone hit her would not be something she'd want publicly aired.
"Assault of who, Inspector?"
"Assault of me." When she raised her eyes to his, all desire to smile vanished. The mask was completely gone from her face, and the person sitting in front of him was no longer Inspector Thatcher. A jolt went through him as he saw a young woman who was filled with fear and anger. There was sadness there too, so deep and painful that it pulled at his heart. The hurt she had managed to cover with clothing shone naked from her eyes. All the bruises he couldn't visibly see rested there, aching for a soothing touch to take them away. Ray had to stop himself from reaching across the table on impulse to hold her. This was the Dragon Lady?
"Did he..." He let the question trail off, afraid of her answer.
She caught his meaning and replied, "No. He just hit me a few times. Somehow Fraser found out, and..." Her hand moved across the table to capture his. "This is my fault. People have to know, Ray. I don't want to ruin his life. I can't be responsible for that. You've got to help me make them see."
"Can I see..." Ray cleared his throat, not knowing how to phrase his question. "Um...how...some..."
Wordlessly, she nodded and undid her suit jacket. Slowly, she slid it off and Ray saw a wince go over her features. Underneath she wore a small shirt. It bared her arms, one of which she showed to him. She looked at him questioningly, and he nodded. Yes, he saw them. The Inspector looked undecided for a moment, then stood and raised her shirt a little, exposing some of her stomach. Ray's eyes widened at what he saw and he felt bile crawl up his throat.
"Is this enough to proceed with charges, or do you need to see more, Detective?"
He could tell she was trying to use her Inspector voice, but it was as if it didn't fit--as if she were a little girl trying on her mommy's shoes.
Ray cleared his throat before admitting, "They may think you're lying to stick up for Fraser."
"Do these look like lies?"
Once more she turned her arm over and Ray stared at the bruises for a moment in fascination.
When he could finally look into her face again, he asked, "Why don't you tell me what happened?"
"There's not much to tell," she replied, taking her seat again. "I went out on a date. We drank too much. We went to my place. He hit me. I passed out. When I came to, he was gone."
Her words were calm, but Ray could see the tension in her slight frame. It was so stiff, Ray was amazed that something didn't break. When he tried to search her eyes, brown evaded green. She stared solemnly at the table as if it were a puzzle she needed to solve.
"You're going to have to be more detailed in your statement." Ray knew his voice was very soft, but he couldn't help it. This meeting was no longer about Fraser. Somehow during the course of their conversation, it became important to nail Burrell because of her. Meg. A part of him began to understand why Fraser had lost it because of the attack. In fact, Ray was starting to feel a little warm himself. "I will check for any priors, both here and in Canada. He's a dual citizen, so he can be tried as an American. It would be helpful if we could get another woman to testify to the same kind of treatment."
"Yes," she murmured.
"And physical proof would be helpful."
He brows knit together. "Proof? What kind of proof?"
"Um...A doctor's examination and..." He took a deep breath. "Someone should take pictures of your injuries."
The look she threw him was panic filled. "A police officer will have to look at me?"
Sympathy sliced through Ray and he assured her, "No...no...as long as the doctor is reliable and can validate them, anyone can take the pictures."
There was still fear there, but she nodded. Her face had gone white but was set in determination.
"I also want to warn you that the fact that you were drunk may be used against you. They could throw a question at you about how much you can really remember and how you can be sure Burrell was your attacker."
She bit her lip again before asking quietly, "Do you think this will help Fraser?"
"Well," he said honestly, "It certainly can't hurt. At the very least you're taking a sleeze off the street."
"Good. People should know what Gl...What that man is. Fraser is not the bad guy here, and I want everyone to know it. He has to be stopped. I didn't understand that until..." She paused and smiled tentatively. "It's funny how much you realize when a friend is in trouble."
"Yes, ma'am." The title of respect came out easier than it ever had before. He saw courage as he looked at her, despite the fact that she looked so vulnerable it made him want to cry. How hard this was for her was written plainly on her face, and Ray cursed his Italian heritage for not allowing him to distance himself from her situation.
"So, what happens now?"
"Are you ready to give your statement?"
"As ready as I'll ever be."
"Well, then, that's where we'll start." As they rose, he continued, "Then we'll see about getting the world's nicest person released."
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A couple of hours later, Meg found herself leading a newly released Constable Fraser to her car. After a lengthy statement to Ray, who Lt. Welsh let remain in control of her case--mostly because of Meg's refusal to talk to anyone else--paperwork had been signed to give Fraser into the care of the Consulate until his trial. Then Detectives Huey and Dewey had retrieved Fraser. Ray explained to Meg that they were in charge Fraser's case. She studied them critically, not sure if she liked what she saw.
There had been a short, whispered conversation between Ray and Fraser and then a long awkward moment as he had been led to Meg. All she said to him was, "Come with me," and he had followed her meekly. Now they were approaching her Sunfire. She stole a look at Fraser's face and he appeared to be rather nervous.
"Get in," she ordered.
He nodded and obeyed. The two of them sat wrapped in silence, Meg driving and Ben staring out the windows. She wanted to tell him that she had changed her mind about resigning but something stopped her. The knowledge of what happened the last time they were together made a feeling of extreme shyness go through her, and she was afraid to speak. She kept seeing herself cradled in his arms as she gave in and bawled like a baby. It was not exactly the Superior Officer image she wanted to convey.
Meg kept peeking at Fraser out of the corner of her eye. Sometime since she had spoken to him early that morning, he had changed into his street clothes. She found it rather unnerving, as if another barrier had toppled between them. For once, though, that might be a good thing.
As she drove, Meg recalled Ray's words to her at the station. Just thinking of it made a kazillion butterflies go into flight in the pit of her stomach. A knot of stress gathered at the back of her throat, causing her to swallow several times.
"Fraser?" she said softly.
He turned to look at her, his honest eyes showing nothing but respect and trust. This made her braver even before he spoke. "Yes, ma'am?"
"Did Ray...um...did Ray tell you?"
"Tell me what, ma'am?"
Meg cleared her throat and swallowed again. "I'm pressing charges against Gl...uh...against him. You were right this morning. I can't hide from this. Just because I feel ashamed doesn't mean I can have the luxury of pretending it didn't happen. I owe this to every woman that came to be on the other side of his fist before me...and I owe it to you."
"Me?" He blinked.
"Yes, Fraser. I'm the one who dragged you into this." She held up a hand to stop his protest. "Don't try to deny it, you know it's true. If you can face these incompetent American courts because of me, the least I can do is stand up to that man for you."
He gave a slight nod of acknowledgment, so she continued, "Ray said to make my charges...um...stick, it would be helpful to have another woman come forward. He also said that there were two things that I could do to make my case stronger. I'd like to get them over with today."
Meg put on her blinker and drove to the side of the road. She wanted to give him her full attention when she asked him. There was puzzlement in Constable Fraser's eyes, but Meg ignored it.
"Fraser, can I count on you?"
"Of course." There was no hesitation in his answer.
She almost smiled. "Ray's first recommendation was that I see a doctor. A doctor's report detailing my injuries and pin pointing the probable date of their occurrence as the night of my date with Glen will back up my story. I've made an appointment for this afternoon, and I was wondering..." She paused a moment, suddenly terrified. Still, Meg pressed on. "...I was wondering if you'd come with me. I'm afraid I won't be able to concentrate on driving after the...uh...the examination."
In the moment before he answered, the breath caught in Meg's throat.
"I will accompany you and drive you home," he agreed.
A line appeared between his brows, so she hurried to assure him, "You don't have to. It's not an order."
His hand crossed the space between them and rested on hers. The shock of his touch almost made her forget her own name.
"I'm coming."
She accepted his firm reply with a slight nod before turning her eyes to their joined hands. Her gaze lingered there as she wondered if she was strong enough to continue her request. Nervously, Meg chewed her lower lip, not sure of how to phrase the important question.
"There was a second thing?" he prodded.
"Yes," she whispered, still unable to look at him.
"Ma'am?"'
"He thinks I should have physical proof of my injuries to back up the doctor's report."
"Which means?"
"Pictures."
"Pictures?"
Taking a deep breath to harden her resolve, she looked up into his eyes. The warmth she saw there made her fear melt away. "I need someone to take pictures of my injuries. I want you to do it."
He took a short, sharp breath, pulling his hand from hers. "I don't think...Wouldn't you...it's not..."
Meg looked at him, searching for signs of repulsion or disgust. All she saw there was embarrassment and uncertainty.
"This, of course, is not an order either. You're probably wondering why I chose you for..." Her voice trembled a little as she thought of the trial ahead. Clearing her throat, she paused to steady it. When she was sure it would not betray her again, she continued, "..for this and not a woman. Someone I'd feel more comfortable with."
He nodded, his gray-blue eyes wide.
"Well, for one thing, I believe you deserve to see what you might have risked jail for. How else are you supposed to know if it was worth the price?"
He mumbled something she didn't quite catch, and Meg had a feeling she wasn't supposed to. An intensity had suddenly come to his eyes, and they trapped hers. It was then that she decided that he should know her other reason as well.
"The truth is, Fraser, I had another, almost as important, reason." Her cheeks colored slightly, and only the power of his gaze kept her from looking away. "You are the only person in Chicago that I trust without question. I don't want someone...someone I can't trust to...to..."
A shiver went through her and she immediately felt his hands on hers again. With a gentle caress, her anxiety lessened and she knew she had made the right choice. If there was anyone in the world she could trust not to take advantage of her bared body and soul, it was Benton Fraser.
"Will you?"
"Yes."
"Thank you."
Meg put her car in gear and drove back into traffic. When her right hand was done its task, Fraser took it up again. He held it as they drove to the hospital in silence.