Chapter 10.
Later that evening, Fraser was stoking the fire and Amy was petting Dief. "You're making too much fuss of him you know," said Fraser with a slight frown.
Dief whimpered. "But he's hurt," replied Amy, ruffling the animal's ears.
"The excessive size of the bandage he managed to dupe the veterinarian into using is purely for the purposes of garnering sympathy," sighed Fraser, glaring at his wolf. Dief whimpered again. "Oh stop it," scolded Fraser.
Amy giggled. She hadn't understood every word Fraser had said again, but she'd got the general idea. "I think I might like to get a wolf when I go home," she said.
Fraser smiled. "Perhaps a small dog might be a more appropriate pet?" he suggested.
"I'm going to write letters to Jason," said Amy.
"That's a lovely idea," smiled Fraser.
Amy's face fell suddenly serious. "Why did that man take Jason?" she asked.
Fraser sat down on the sofa next to her. "Well," he began, "because he misses his own son very much and he thought that maybe he could spend some time with Jason instead." Fraser tried to explain, not sure if he was doing a very good job. "Also, he's taking some medication that made him confused and angry and so he decided to come and take Jason without asking first, which was wrong."
"Did the medicine make him want to hurt Dief and Constable Turnbull?" Amy enquired, trying to understand.
"Yes," replied Fraser, nodding, "I don't think he normally likes hurting people, or animals and now he's taking different medication so I'm sure he won't do it again."
"That's good," smiled Amy. "Ben, can I take this off please?" she asked, pointing to her sling.
"How does your shoulder feel tonight?" he asked her.
"It's OK," replied Amy, "please can I Ben? It's really annoying."
Fraser laughed and unfastened the sling from around her neck. "Don't try to move it about too much," he warned her. "When you go home, you will most likely undertake some physical therapy."
"What does that mean?" asked the little girl as she slowly tried to move her shoulder up and down.
"It means that someone will help you with a series of exercises that will ensure your shoulder returns to full strength as soon as possible," replied Fraser. Amy nodded, slightly nervously. "Don't worry," urged Fraser, "it will be fine." Amy smiled.
"Ben," she said with a slight frown now, "why aren't you somebody's daddy?"
Fraser froze for a second. Her question had taken him completely by surprise and he wasn't sure how to answer. He cleared his throat. "Well," he began, "because, um..." but then he heard the telephone ringing in the hall and raced out to answer it, breathing a huge sigh of relief. It was Inspector Thatcher. Fraser listened carefully as she was speaking particularly quickly this evening. "Oh that is wonderful news," he said finally, "I'll call Amy to the telephone."
A few moments later, Amy was wrapped in Fraser's strong arms, tears running down her cheeks. "Why am I crying?" she sniffed, "I'm so happy, my Mum's awake and she's going to get better."
"It's alright," Fraser comforted her, with a smile, "it's perfectly normal. You've had a lot to cope with and," he added, pulling back slightly and wiping away her tears with his thumb, "I have to say that you've coped remarkably well. You should be very proud of yourself. I'm proud of you." Amy smiled and Diefenbaker wandered over and began licking the back of her hand.
"I'm going to miss you so much when I go tomorrow," sniffed Amy, "I mean, I really want to go and see my Mum and Dad and I want to go home, but I didn't know I was going to be leaving so soon. I wish you and Dief and Ray could come with me."
"I have to stay here at the Consulate," explained Fraser.
"I know," sighed Amy sadly. "Maybe I could come back and visit?"
Fraser smiled. "I'd like that very much," he said. Dief barked loudly and Fraser laughed. "I think Diefenbaker would like that too. You know, your Mum is going to be in hospital for a while and I'm sure that your Auntie Meg will remain heavily involved in your care, so maybe we might see you again sooner than you think." Amy nodded. "Now," continued Fraser, "I think it's time for you to go to bed, your Aunt will be here tomorrow to take you home so you want to be refreshed for the journey."
"Ben, will you tell me a story again please?" she asked.
"Of course," he replied, "I have a particular one in mind that I think you'll find quite fascinating. Do you know the tale of Anartek?"
XxX
"I really think you should try to eat something Sir." Fraser placed a bowl of soup on the table in front of Inspector Thatcher.
"Fraser, I'll eat on the flight back," replied Meg with a sigh.
"If I might be so bold Sir, airline food is not renowned for it's nutritional value," said Fraser, handing her a bread roll.
"The breakfast I had on the flight down this morning was perfectly adequate," retorted Meg.
"I may also add that you are looking particularly undernourished at this juncture," Fraser sat in the chair next to his superior officer.
"Fraser, I've had other things to think about recently," snapped Meg, "eating really hasn't been high on my list of priorities."
"Understood," replied Fraser, "however now that your sister is on the road to recovery, you can begin to rectify that. She will need you at full strength, she has a long and difficult time ahead of her."
Meg sighed. "I know that Fraser," she replied quietly. "She was pleased to see me. I realise that she has a brain injury, but she recognised me this morning before I left and..." her voice trailed off as she thought hopefully about the prospect of rebuilding her relationship with her sister. "Are you certain that you and Turnbull can manage here without me for a few weeks?"
"Of course we can," smiled Fraser, reassuringly. "I will also update you on the progress of the works taking place in your apartment, as soon as I have had a chance to speak to the contractors."
"Thank you," smiled Meg, who hadn't even thought about the state of her home in the past few days. "I'll try to divide my time as best I can," she continued. "You I trust, but Turnbull..." she trailed off.
"Constable Turnbull is a very capable and courageous officer," Fraser assured her, "his recent actions while protecting a young child demonstrate that."
"He does have a rather large contusion on his forehead," agreed Meg and Fraser nodded. Just then they heard the front door open and the sound of footsteps running down the stairs.
"Ray!" Amy almost leapt into his arms as he stepped into the hallway. "I was hoping you'd be here."
"Hey, I wasn't gonna let ya go without sayin' goodbye now, was I?" grinned Ray. "Have ya packed all your things?"
"Yep," nodded Amy, "I can't wait to see my Mummy, I'm going to give her the biggest hug in the whole world."
"Sounds good to me," smiled Ray. "Where's Fraser, I mean Ben?"
"He's in there with Auntie Meg," replied Amy, pointing to the kitchen.
Ray went to find them. "Er, hi," he said gingerly as he walked into the kitchen. "How was the flight?"
"Fine, thank you Detective," replied Meg, as she ate her soup, much to Fraser's satisfaction.
"And you're sure ya wanna fly back today?" enquired Ray. "Flyin' always takes it outta me."
"Ray the flight time between Chicago and Toronto is approximately an hour and a half," Fraser pointed out, "not really the most exhausting of journeys."
"Yeah I know buddy," agreed Ray, "but ya got all that time wastin' at the airport beforehand, makes me kinda weary."
Meg managed a small smile. "I just want to get Amy back home as soon as possible," she explained. "I can't begin to express my gratitude to the two of you for taking care of her, even if she did become embroiled in a kidnapping." Meg's smile faded.
"Ah, yes," agreed Fraser, "I am so terribly sorry about that."
"It's alright Fraser," Meg smiled again, "I should have guessed something like that might happen. I look forward to reading your report."
Fraser wasn't entirely sure what the Inspector was trying to say with that comment, but he decided that it was best to leave it there.
A short while later, Fraser and Ray stood outside the Consulate as Meg berated the taxi driver for being ten minutes late. Amy was down on one knee hugging Diefenbaker, who had decided that he was really going to miss the child. He had quickly come to realise that he actually enjoyed the amount of affection she freely offered him. Perhaps he was going soft in his old age? Dief wasn't sure he liked that idea.
Amy stood up and threw her arms around Ray. "Thank you for helping to look after me," she said.
"C'mon kid," grinned Ray, as Amy let go of him, "ya were no trouble, right Fraser?"
"None at all," replied the Mountie and Amy hugged him tightly.
"I'll be coming back really soon, I promise," she said, "Auntie Meg said so."
Fraser looked at Meg with his eyebrows raised. "When she needs a place to stay, I wouldn't be happy if she was anywhere else," she said, then adding. "I'll continue to telephone every evening, if you're agreeable to that. I have become..." she paused, searching for the most appropriate way to finish her sentence. Eventually she said, "I have become comfortable speaking to you with such regularity, on a personal level I mean."
Fraser was quite taken aback at her honesty. He too had come to look forward to her telephone calls each evening. He had been happy to act as a friendly ear for her as she coped with the distress of not knowing whether her sister was going to survive, but now that situation was over, the thought of continuing to have friendly chats was both unnerving and exciting at the same time. He swallowed hard and ran a finger around the starched collar of his tunic. "Thank you kindly," was all he could manage to say. Ray glanced up at him, trying to suppress a smirk and then he and Fraser took a step backwards as Meg and Amy got into the taxi and with one final wave, they headed off to the airport. As soon as the taxi disappeared around the corner, they turned and headed back into the Consulate.
"I should get back to the two-seven," sighed Ray as Fraser closed the door behind them.
"Yes Ray," agreed Fraser quietly as he stood in the hall.
Ray looked at him for a moment, suddenly aware that some of the sparkle had gone from his buddy's blue eyes. "Er, y'know, maybe we should work on the McDowell report together? I mean, ya were there too and y'know how I use the wrong words sometimes."
Fraser smiled, touched by his partner's empathy and spoke quietly. "I'd like that very much Ray, thank you kindly." There was a moment of silence between the two friends.
Then Ray spoke again. "Quiet here, ain't it," he said. Fraser nodded sadly. "Back to my place?" suggested Ray.
Fraser's eyes immediately regained some of their shine and he smiled. "Right you are," he agreed, "but you must allow me to cook dinner this evening, we have indulged in far too many take out meals of late."
"OK buddy," agreed Ray, "but, er, we may have to call into the grocery store on the way. I don't think I've got much food in right now."
Fraser frowned and shook his head. "You know Ray, feeding oneself is a basic necessity. There are some very simple yet delicious recipes that you could follow that, while taking very little time to prepare, provide more than adequate sustenance."
Ray laughed. "Thing is buddy, me and cookin', er, not a good mix."
XxX
Later that evening, Ray was putting the finishing touches to his report about the arrest of Steve McDowell and Fraser was busying himself in the kitchen. "Do you have more than one wooden spoon Ray?" Fraser called out.
"Um, I didn't even know I had one wooden spoon Fraser," replied Ray with a shrug. Fraser shook his head and rummaged around in a drawer for an alternative.
"I spoke to Stella y'know," said Ray.
Fraser immediately stopped what he was doing. "You did?" he replied with surprise. "I mean, I realise that you and Stella regularly converse, but I assume by the inflection in that last statement that it was a particularly personal conversation?"
"Yeah," replied Ray, quietly. "She felt some kinda, I don't know, like I think she saw that McDowell got screwed up by his divorce and they had a kid too and maybe, maybe..."
"Do you believe that she felt a personal connection to the situation?" enquired Fraser. Ray shrugged. "But you and Stella didn't have children," Fraser pointed out somewhat gingerly. He knew how much Ray had wanted to have children when he was married to Stella.
"Yeah," replied Ray, quietly, "and thank god we didn't huh. That coulda been us, draggin' a kid through a bitter divorce. That woulda sucked Fraser, sucked big time. I just don't know what I..." he went suddenly quiet.
"Ray, I don't think you would have got yourself into the same situation at Mr McDowell, if that's what you're suggesting," Fraser said, walking back from the kitchen area and sitting down next to Ray.
"Y'don't know that buddy," said Ray, looking at the floor. "If we'd had a kid, don't ya think Stella woulda just used him or her as some other way of gettin' to me?"
"For one thing Ray," began Fraser, "I can't envisage Stella as a mother, so I think your argument is moot, however I do think you're underestimating her."
Ray smiled ruefully, "Maybe," he said.
"However," continued Fraser, hesitating slightly, "I can quite clearly see you as a father. You were very natural with both Amy and Jason."
Ray closed his eyes. "Too late now, don't ya think?" he whispered.
"That's just silly Ray," retorted Fraser and Ray snapped his eyes open and looked at his partner. "You are in your mid-thirties, you have plenty of time left for procreating."
Ray laughed. "Procreatin'?" he said, "is that what they call it in Canada?" Fraser shrugged. "Anyway Fraser, I don't think I could handle it, y'know. Bein' a dad I mean."
"Why do you say that?" asked Fraser with a frown.
"Responsibility buddy," replied his friend. "Freaks me out. I was shakin' when Amy fell over and grazed her knee. Stupid. Like I, er, like I felt guilty for lettin' it happen or somethin'? Then when Jason was havin' his asthma attack, jeez..." Ray shuddered at the memory.
"Ray the situation with Amy and Jason was rather different," replied Fraser, "we had parental responsibilities thrust upon us with very little warning. The decision to bring a child of your own into the world is usually undertaken with very careful consideration."
"Not always buddy," grinned Ray.
"Well, you're right of course," agreed Fraser, "but that aside, under regular circumstances you would be far more prepared, both physically and mentally, for the arrival of your offspring."
"Hey, I never prepare mentally for very much of anythin' these days," shrugged Ray. "Anyway, it takes two to tango, right? So I don't need to worry anytime soon."
"Are we discussing dancing now Ray?" said Fraser, completely confused at the apparent shift in the conversation.
Ray grinned. "No buddy, I'm talkin' about procreatin'."
"Ah," mumbled Fraser, making a mental note to remember that particular expression to avoid any unnecessary future misunderstandings. He got to his feet and headed back towards the kitchen to check on the dinner.
Ray walked over to his bookcase and began scanning along his video collection. "So what movie do ya wanna watch tonight?" he called out to his friend.
"I have no preference," replied Fraser, "you choose."
Ray nodded and turned his attention back to his videos. Then something else caught his eye. "Hey look what I found!" he exclaimed, pulling a book from the shelf. He took it into the kitchen to show Fraser. "This is that book of poems from high school I was tellin' ya about," he explained, handing the book to Fraser. "See, I told ya I had it somewhere."
Fraser immediately turned to the contents page. "What's The Point? by Stanley Kowalski, page twelve," he said aloud, turning to the correct page. He cleared his throat and began to read Ray's poem. "What's the point of trying, when nobody cares? What's the point of caring when nobody's there?..."
"Jeez buddy," Ray interrupted him, looking rather embarrassed, "don't read it out loud."
"Sorry Ray," Fraser apologised and continued to read the poem silently. When he'd finished, he closed the book and looked at Ray in mild surprise. "That really is excellent Ray," he said, "you really have an ear for the rhythm of language."
"Had, Fraser," Ray corrected him, "I was a kid when I wrote that, it was a long time ago. Mr Parker had to correct a whole bunch of spellin' mistakes before it was printed too." He laughed as he remembered.
"Ray, the technicalities of a piece of writing can be corrected by anyone with a working knowledge of the structure and rules of the language and a good dictionary, but the content is entirely yours," Fraser tried to explain. "Your ability to convey your sentiments using words is remarkable, not everyone can do that. Have you considered returning to it as a hobby?"
"I don't have time for hobbies buddy," laughed Ray, "besides, I already told ya, I was a kid then. It was for school, I didn't exactly, er, choose to write poems!"
"Alright then, how about a journal?" suggested Fraser. "As you know, my father kept journals and I have garnered both knowledge and comfort from reading them. I truly believe that everyone needs a hobby Ray. You may find it relaxing at the end of a stressful day? I often play my guitar for just such a purpose."
Ray shrugged. "I never really thought about it like that," he admitted. "My idea of relaxin' after a bad day is a beer and a game on TV."
"Neither of which can be considered relaxing, in the true sense of the word," Fraser pointed out.
"So ya think I should, er, write a journal so when I'm dead, my kids can read about all the crap I have to deal with every day?" asked Ray.
"Well, I wouldn't have put it quite like that Ray," began Fraser, "but returning to our previous topic of conversation, it would be a wonderful legacy for you to leave for any future offspring. My father's journal is very precious to me." Fraser fought a sudden wave of emotion that threatened to overwhelm him.
Ray gave his partner a friendly slap on the back when he noticed that look in Fraser's eyes. "When ya put it like that buddy," he smiled as he spoke, "maybe I'll think about it." He walked back over to his bookcase and replaced the poetry book in the space he'd removed it from. "So, what about you, anyway Fraser?" Ray called over his shoulder to his friend.
"What about me?" asked Fraser, as he returned to stirring the sauce. "I do have a journal although I admit that my entries are somewhat sporadic."
"I wasn't talkin' about that Fraser," Ray grinned. "Do you wanna have kids someday?"
Fraser thought about the question for a moment. "Ray, it's not something I've ever really thought about," he replied.
"Oh c'mon Fraser, ya must've thought about it?" insisted Ray.
Fraser stopped stirring and looked back at Ray. "Hypothetically?" he asked.
"Yeah buddy," agreed Ray, grinning. "Do ya, hypothetically, wanna have kids of your own?"
"Well," began Fraser, "as you've already pointed out, I would first require a dance partner, so to speak."
Ray shrugged and nodded. "OK, go with me on this buddy," he said, "let's say that, er, hypothetically speakin', ya wound up with a beautiful girl and ya tango all the time and ya got a house in the suburbs, or an igloo in the Yukon or whatever," Ray frowned slightly, realising that he was entirely unaware of what Fraser's idea of domestic bliss was. "Do you wanna have kids? Do you, Benton Fraser, wanna be a daddy?"
Fraser closed his eyes, slowly moistened his lower lip with his tongue and tried to imagine what his life would be like if he were a father. He thought about his childhood and he realised that he couldn't draw on experiences with his own father to guide him into parenthood himself. If he were to become a father, he would have to work it all out for himself. That thought was a little terrifying, but the more he thought about it, the more he relished the challenge. He knew he could be a better father than Robert Fraser had ever been and suddenly it hit him exactly how much he wanted to prove that, how much he wanted to experience being a parent, to experience the highs and the lows and everything in between. The responsibility of bringing a new life into the world was almost overwhelming, but at the same time, he knew that the rewards would be immeasurable. He opened his eyes and looked at Ray. "Yes I do Ray," he said, seriously, "I really do."
THE END