Weakness

by Tanya Reed

This one's a short one, folks. I know less about photography than I do about American law, but hopefully, the little bit I put in at the beginning works.

Disclaimer: Due South doesn't belong to me. I don't make any money from it. Trust me.

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Fraser had been sitting alone in the dark. He was waiting, and he knew he had been waiting longer than necessary. The fact was that he was afraid his eagerness would make him hurry, and in his hurry, the result would be less than perfect. That was unacceptable. Finally, he got up from the table and checked the pictures hanging from a line strung across the room. He did not look at the images, just made sure that they were definitely dry. Satisfied, he made his way to the window and lifted the shade.

Just as fading light entered the apartment once more, there was a knock on his door. He ran a knuckle over his eyebrow, hoping that it wasn't Meg returning. He wanted to have the pictures stashed away before she did. That way, she wouldn't have to face them. Reluctantly, he walked to the door and opened it. He smiled with relief at the form on the other side.

"Ray."

"Yeah. Hi, Benny. I've come to pick up the pictures. You done?"

Ben dropped his eyes and motioned Ray in as the smile quickly fell from his face. A desire to burn the pictures, thereby shielding Meg from harsh eyes, went through him. "They're in here."

Ray must have caught something in his voice because he asked, "Are you okay?"

Lowly, he answered, "I'm glad I didn't do this before..."

Ray's hand on his arm made Ben look at him. Concerned green eyes seemed to look right into his soul. "What do you mean?"

Fraser drew a shallow breath as he studied the face of his best friend. How much could he tell him? What would his admission cost? Ben thought back to the small discovery he had made earlier. He loved Ray like a brother, and maybe this was one of the times when showing emotion was strength.

Through a throat tight with wanting to keep his reply in, he said very softly, "I would have killed him."

Ray accepted this with a nod. "That bad, huh?"

Almost overwhelmed by his acceptance, Ben managed a "Yes." He paused, turning his back on Ray and trying to control the anger brought on by the scenes in his head.

He could hear Ray following him, so when he was sure he was in control of his voice and his emotions, he asked, "So, you haven't seen...?"

"Nah. Just a couple. She was upset."

Ben reached the pictures and took down the first one. His eyes scanned it and saw it was one of her back. The hand not holding it clenched reflexively and he glanced at his friend before handing it to him.

"How many people will see these, Ray?"

"I can't lie to you, Benny. There's going to be quite a few. Everyone involved in the case, everyone's lawyers, the judge, the jury. Even the people working on your case might see them, if the fancy lawyer from Ottawa thinks it's necessary. Think The Dragon Lady can handle it?"

Ben didn't even have to think about that. "Yes. She is strong. Even stronger than I thought. What that man did to her, it was worse than just hurting her body. It almost destroyed her. Knowing that she could be taken advantage of, no longer being able to trust herself, it scares her to death. But she's facing it--facing it for me."

"I gotta admit, Fraser, I admired her guts myself this morning."

This made Ben almost smile. For months, he had been trying to get Ray to see in Meg what he saw in her. The Italian refused to look beyond the surface--where he saw a strict, uptight woman who enjoyed bossing others--and really see what she was hiding underneath. It seemed that it had finally happened without any interference from him. His hesitancy gone, he handed the picture to Ray.

Ray took it gingerly, first looking at Ben for permission to look at it. Fraser nodded. The detective's face first turned very white, then took on an almost greenish tinge. As always, his emotions were written there plainly, and Fraser didn't have to know Italian to know that the words coming in sharp mutters were curses.

"Ray?"

"Huh?" He ripped his eyes from the image in his fingers.

"Did you bring an envelope?"

"An envelope?"

"For the pictures."

"Oh, yeah." Rational thought came back to his features, and he reached inside his jacket and retrieved a folded 8 1/2 x 11 envelope.

"Good. I want to have them in it before her return."

"Return? Hmmnnn. I thought that was her car I saw down there."

"She took Dief for a walk." A flash of amusement made Fraser correct himself. "Or should I say Dief took her for a walk."

He handed the next picture to Ray, who said, "How could you stand to take these?"

"I'm not sure I understand."

This earned him a hard look. Ray's face still appeared slightly greenish and his hands shook slightly.

"I mean, if it were someone I..." He coughed, then continued," I cared about, then there's no way I could just stand there and take pictures..."

"What else could I have done?" Ben snapped, surprising both himself and Ray.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

Fraser took a deep breath, then nodded. "Thank you."

Ray's green eyes held puzzlement. "For what?"

"Everything. For taking care of this personally. For standing behind us. For lying for me."

Ray shrugged. "That's what friends do."

Overwhelming gratitude almost made Fraser hug him. Never in his life had someone taken the term friend and used it to mean someone who would do anything to help and protect him. To hide his sudden positive emotion, Ben turned back to the pictures and handed the rest to Ray in silence. The detective forced himself to look at each one, the skin around his eyes progressively tightening.

"Maybe someday he'll have a tragic accident," Ray mumbled as he was shutting the envelope.

"The sooner the better."

Fraser didn't get a chance to reply, as another knock cut him off. The two men shared a look before the Mountie called, "Come in."

Meg entered, looking quite refreshed from her walk. Her eyes were shining and her cheeks were flushed. Ben's heart flip flopped in his chest as she smiled warmly to Ray.

"Oh, hello, Detective."

"Inspector."

"Fraser, does your wolf know every donut shop in the neighborhood?"

This got a laugh from Ray, who answered, "Yup, and every other neighborhood in the city."

"Ray!"

"It's true, Benny."

"I bought him one," Meg continued. "I hope it's all right."

"He is on a diet, but one is okay for a treat."

Still grinning, Ray stated, "I'd better go. Ma's holding diner for me. Have a good night."

"Good night, Ray."

Ben watched in curiosity as Ray stopped when he was passing Meg. The Mountie's excellent hearing picked up the soft question and her murmured answer. There was slight contact as her hand settled on his arm, then Ray turned and waved before leaving.

"You know," Meg admitted, "I think I'm starting to like him."

"The feeling seems to be mutual."

A flash of surprise went over her delicate features. "Really?"

"Yes."

He studied her face as she absorbed this, intent on the expression in her eyes. She was skilled at keeping her face impassive, but she didn't always have control over what seeped into her eyes. Their eyes met, and both of them blushed and looked away.

"I suppose I should be going."

Ben saw reluctance go over her face and spoke before taking the time to think. "Why don't you stay here tonight?"

"Fraser!" she exclaimed, her mouth falling open.

It hit him suddenly what it sounded like he was suggesting. Flustered, he blurted, "I...I, uh, often sleep on the floor. Dief takes the bed, but I'm sure he wouldn't mind sharing with you..."

She bit her lip in that endearing way she had, and he saw that she was tempted. "I don't think that would be appropriate."

She was right, of course, but he was disappointed. He would love to go to sleep knowing she was there, hearing her breathe and smelling her unique fragrance--and he didn't want her to be alone.

"Understood."

He watched Meg bend down to give Dief a final scratch before retrieving her purse from the sideboard. She opened it and took out her keys, looking at them as if she'd never seen them before. Her eyes rose to Fraser's face and he gave her a short nod. Meg nodded back and turned. Her hand reached out and touched the knob. Then she went completely still.

"Fraser?" she whispered.

"Yes, ma'am?"

"Does that offer still stand?"

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Meg sat comfortably, perched on the edge of Fraser's bed. In the long flannel shirt that had replaced her serious suit, she felt more comfortable than she had since she was a child. A cup of tea--when he discovered she preferred it to coffee, Fraser went out and bought some tea bags--was warming her hands. Diefenbaker was curled behind her, offering comfort and warmth from the other side.

A feeling of contentment had settled over Meg as she sipped and watched Fraser prepare them a late supper. The voice in her head had not made an appearance since she entered, and despite the fact that she wasn't wearing much more than Fraser's shirt, she felt completely at ease.

She was starting to like the place. Despite its rundown look, it was immaculately clean and Fraser's presence filled it completely, even when he was gone.

Fraser turned and caught her staring at him. A blush tinged his cheeks, but his voice was steady as he said, "It shouldn't be more than a few minutes."

"It smells delicious."

"Thank you kindly, ma'am."

She got up and went to the kitchen area. After placing her tea on the table, Meg started looking through the cupboards for dishes.

"Not much here, Fraser," she said conversationally.

"We don't often get company."

"I think I know what I'll get you for Christmas. Nothing fancy, mind you, but something simple and serviceable."

He didn't answer, but that didn't bother her. She took out the dishes and set the table, trying to make it look nice. Fraser had turned his back to her again, and a stray thought about what it would be like to wrap her arms around him and bury her face in the soft folds of his shirt flitted through her mind. It was a good thought, although she quickly banished it. She blamed it on the feeling of domesticity that had settled around her.

"Are you warm enough, ma'am?" Fraser asked, coming over to pull her out a chair.

Meg sat obediently and answered, "Quite warm, thank you. It's a comfortable shirt."

"It's my favorite," he admitted with a little smile that showed dimples.

She couldn't help but return a smile like that. Pleased, Fraser went to the stove and retrieved a pot. Meg took a deep sniff of the stew as Fraser ladled it into a bowl for her, and her stomach growled.

It was as delicious as it smelled. She wasted no time in telling him. His eyes lit up with her praise, making her happy she had given it.

He joined her at the table and the two of them started eating their food with gusto. Meg felt like she hadn't eaten in years, and the fact was the past couple of days she'd been eating about as much as she'd been sleeping. She remembered some sort of sandwich the day before, but couldn't remember if she'd eaten anything since.

The hot stew tingled in her belly almost as if her stomach were saying thank you. Meg ate several pieces of thickly sliced homemade bread with it. She wondered if Fraser had made that himself too.

As her stomach filled, Meg began to feel drowsy for the first time in days. It hit her suddenly and she put down her spoon, blinking rapidly. A huge yawn escaped her. She snuck a peek at Fraser to see if he heard it, but he seemed oblivious. Rubbing her left eye, she blinked a couple more times, then she reached for her spoon again.

The next thing she was aware of was a pair of strong arms lifting

her up out of her chair.

"Fraser?" she mumbled.

"You fell asleep in your chair, ma'am."

She accepted this and snuggled deeper against him. He smelled wonderful, and she could get lost in the feeling of belonging that came from being with him.

The arms tightened, and Meg sighed. She was fast asleep before he even put her in the bed.