Weakness
by Tanya Reed
Disclaimer: I do not own Due South, and I am not making any money from this story.
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The next morning, Fraser puttered around his kitchen, trying to be quiet. Dief was lying on his bedroll, which he hadn't rolled up yet, with all four legs stuck in the air. It was rare for the wolf to sleep in such and undignified manner, and it caused the usually stoic Mountie to chuckle.
Just a few steps away, Fraser's bed was rumpled and occupied by his still fast asleep superior officer. She had conked out the night before just after nine and hadn't moved all night. If not for the faint sound of her breathing, Fraser would have been worried. Exhaustion seemed to have caught up with her at last.
His eyes avoided the bed, afraid that he would glimpse something inappropriate. Occasionally, the temptation would get too strong and he'd sneak a peak. Her face was angelic in sleep. All the walls she had worked so hard to place there fell away, making her look very young and innocent.
These thoughts led to other thoughts. Something about the Inspector was different. The night before, after her walk, she seemed so--what was the word?--at ease with him. Her attitude had shifted, just slightly, and Ben had no idea why or what it meant. It wasn't that he didn't like it. On the contrary, the sight of her perched on his bed, drinking tea and patting Diefenbaker had thrilled him.
Ben's musings were interrupted by a knock on his door. He hurried to answer it, not wanting the Inspector to be disturbed since she had an hour left to sleep.
"Morning, Benny!" Ray said heartily when the door was opened.
Ben put a finger to his lips and led Ray into the room. The detective looked puzzled, so he whispered, "She's still asleep."
Ray's eyes got big as he asked quietly, "She's still here?"
"Yes."
"Oh, man. What happened?"
"After you left, we ate and then retired," Fraser said innocently, though he knew what Ray was thinking.
"Together?"
"Of course not, Ray."
The detective looked into the other section. "She's asleep all right. I take it you won't need a ride to work."
"Inspector Thatcher will probably be willing to drive me. If not, I'll walk."
"I still can't believe she slept here." Ray shook his head.
"She was tired. Do you want me to come by the station later? I am off at noon today."
"No!" Ray said quickly.
Ben drew his brows together. There was an almost panicked note to his friend's voice.
"Is something wrong?"
"I don't think you want to go to the station," Ray said, turning away and running a hand over his head. "It's not a good place for you right now. You see, Elaine is a real good friend of Burrell's--he used to visit her over summer vacations or something when they were kids. You and the Dra...um...the Inspector are not very popular with her right now. I think it's better if you just let her cool off for a couple of days."
"If you think that's best."
The Chicago cop brightened. "Of course, that don't keep me from coming to get you at noon. You still up for it?"
"That would be fine, Ray."
"I wish I would have known you didn't need a ride this morning," Ray commented, making himself a coffee.
"Why's that?"
"I would have slept in."
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Meg Thatcher woke to the smell of pancakes. She was in a deep, dreamless sleep when the smell beckoned to her. Half of her body fought against it, but the part that liked pancakes decided she had slept enough.
She swam slowly towards awareness, feeling warm and safe. The smell of pancakes and a soothing masculine scent invaded her through her nose, and she embraced them. As she came closer to consciousness her sense of touch awakened. There was something soft against her skin and something firm but pliable against her back.
It was sound that finally fully waked her. She lay there with her eyes closed, listening to someone moving around quietly. Memory came back and she realized that she was in Benton Fraser's bed. She should feel scandalized--horrified, even. Instead, what she felt was relaxed content.
There had been no nightmares. For the first time since the attack, she had slept completely through the night with no disturbing dreams to haunt her. Surrounded by his shirt, his bed, his presence--him--Meg had managed to find some peace at last. With a sigh, she opened her eyes and shifted slightly. As small as her movement was, he must have heard it because he said, "Good morning, ma'am."
She stretched luxuriously, replying, "Good morning, Fraser. Something smells great."
"Pancakes. I hope you like them."
"I love pancakes."
Meg felt herself start to grin and didn't fight it. No 'Inspector face' this morning. After all, Fraser had seen her naked, battered, and weak. What was left to hide from him? This knowledge, discovered on her walk the night before, made her feel free. To be able to be completely herself was a pleasure she hadn't had for a very long time.
Sitting up, Meg hugged herself, enjoying the feel of his shirt. His favorite shirt. She watched him move about the kitchen, almost disappointed that he was already in uniform. And it was the brown uniform that showed off his chest and shoulders.
When Fraser turned, she noticed he had a tray in his hands. On it were pancakes, syrup, orange juice, milk, and toast. He brought it in to her, asking, "Did you sleep well?"
"Better than I have in years."
He smiled shyly. "I'm glad."
She reached out and took the tray from him. "Thank you."
"You're welcome."
He was going to go back into the kitchen area, so she gestured to the bottom of the bed. "Sit here with me. I won't bite."
A slight look of embarrassment went over his face, causing her to grin wider and think of something definitely naughty. He took her suggestion, though, and settled by her feet.
"Mmmmm." She said appreciatively a moment later, when she tasted the pancakes. "These are great."
"It's my grandmother's recipe."
"Well, then, thank you, Mrs. Fraser, wherever you are. I haven't tasted pancakes like this since...hmmn...the summer I stayed with my aunt and uncle in Alberta. I was twelve."
When she looked up from her breakfast she noticed that Fraser was beaming. All he said was, "How are you feeling?"
"Wonderful. There's a kind of freedom in embracing one's own fallibility." She didn't mention that waking up to his dear face hadn't hurt either. "And thank you for letting me stay here last night."
"You're welcome."
"My apartment is a scary place to me right now," she admitted, surprised at how easy it was. "I see him everywhere. Feel him. I'd be happy if I never had to set foot in there again."
He nodded in understanding.
"Fraser, if I ask you a question, will you answer me honestly?"
"Of course, ma'am."
"That's right, I almost forgot who I was talking to." She placed her fork on the tray so she could give him her full attention. "Do you think I'm being unreasonable?"
"I beg your pardon?"
"I mean, do you think I'm being foolish? It's not like he...he...um..well, you know what I'm trying to say. Do you think it's childish to be so disturbed by the fact that he beat me up? Should I be stronger? Is this fear and disgust I feel wrong?"
"It's not wrong if you feel it. This has been a horrible blow to your self esteem. Something about this attack torments you. Your fear is very real." He reached out and put his hand on her knee. She could feel his heat through the blankets that separated them. "Some months ago, a similar thing happened to me."
Meg's mouth fell open. "You?"
He nodded. "Yes. A criminal that Ray had known since childhood. He did not like my objections to his..." He looked at her questioningly, "...squeezing?...the local residents. When he was through with me, I looked much as you do."
Meg self consciously drew the top of her shirt closed. "How...What happened?"
"I was terrified for a long time. I no longer felt safe here, or anywhere."
"So, you understand."
"Yes, ma'am."
She picked her fork back up and began eating again. "These are really good pancakes."
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Meg sat in her office a few hours later catching up on paperwork she'd mostly been too distracted to do for the past couple of days. Her trip to her apartment to change had not been as bad as she feared, and that was probably due to the fact that Fraser stood in her livingroom. The memories seemed to flee from him, and 'the voice' hadn't come back. Now, if she could just have Fraser with her every time she had to go home.
The thought made her smile. Waking up to his grandmother's pancakes every morning seemed nothing short of heaven. Meg wished she could cook like that.
Just then, the phone rang and she saw it was the in-Consulate line.
"Yes, Ovitz?"
"There's someone here to see you, ma'am."
"Who is it?"
There was a murmuring as he seemed to ask the question. The reply was sharp, causing Meg to frown. Whoever it was didn't sound very happy.
"Inspector? She won't give her name. She just demands to speak with you."
Irate persons were nothing new to Meg. Deciding to take a chance, she said, "Send her in."
Not more than two seconds after she had said that, a woman barged through her office door. Dark eyes snapped in an indignant face, and Meg searched her mind for a name. Oh, yes.
Elaine.
"I want to talk to you," she said.
"Obviously. If you didn't, you wouldn't be here. May I help you?"
"How could you do this?"
"I beg your pardon?"
The pretty African American woman scowled slightly. "I heard about the lies you've been spreading."
Meg raised an eyebrow. "Indeed?"
"Listen, lady, I don't know what your game is." She began to pace, kneading one hand with the other. "But there's no excuse for what you've done. What do you have against him? Did he say something that insulted your pride? I've seen the way you do and say things to purposely hurt Fraser. Is this one of your power trip things? Are you getting some sort of perverse pleasure from this?"
Meg stood and said quietly, "I don't believe you know what you're talking about."
Elaine stopped her pacing and stated, "Glen Burrell is the most gentle man I know. He would never hit someone in anger. I know that and so do you. I don't know why you've got this little revenge thing going, but I want you to stop it."
"You don't..." Meg opened her mouth to protest, but Elaine quickly cut her off. The Inspector had been about to tell her everything she had told Ray in the hopes that her words could protect Elaine.
"And what was that on the phone the day before yesterday? You actually pretended that you were concerned when you knew that Fraser had reacted violently to your lie. That's something that makes this even worse. You dragged Fraser into this. You were even probably counting on his reaction, and of course he'd believe you because you're his Superior Officer. He's too trusting, and you took advantage of that..."
Meg knew her 'Inspector face' was as good as it had ever been. She could feel the mask as if it were an actual, physical thing. On the inside, she wasn't so calm and cool. Was the woman even listening to herself? How could she know anything about what the past week had been like? How could she assume Meg was a liar and that petty without having known her?
Stubbornly setting her jaw, Meg vowed to herself that she would speak no words to Elaine that she didn't have to. Hopefully, the civilian aide wouldn't have her faith broken the hard way.
"Are you quite finished?"
"No." Elaine shook her head emphatically. "I want to know why you did it. Why do you want to destroy Glen?"
"Well, Miss Bresbriss," She finally remembered Elaine's last name. "I guess that is just the kind of person I am."
"What kind of answer is that?"
"The answer you wanted." Meg sat back in her chair as if dismissing her. Turning her eyes back to the paperwork, she continued, "Now, if there's nothing else, I've got work to do."