Late Evening ….
Meg had changed into jeans, an RCMP sweatshirt and tennis shoes before taking a walk around the block. She found herself outside the consulate, still feeling awful for being a bitch to Patricia and for being jealous of her friend. Yellow street lights illuminated the brick building as the Canadian flag snapped proudly overhead. It symbolized so much of Meg's life; her career, ambition, goals, priorities. The Force had been her constant companion since joining after finishing school. More of her life had been spent serving her country than doing anything else. It wasn't enough at the end of the day. Even if she saved the world, at the end of the day Meg's arms were still empty.
"Inspector Thatcher?" Fraser's voice broke into Meg's thoughts as she stood beneath the street light staring absently at the building.
"Oh, Fraser." She whirled around, surprised to see the Mountie in civilian clothes and his Stetson.
"It's late, was there something you needed?" Fraser stepped into the circle of light with Meg. She seemed preoccupied and somewhat upset.
"I needed to clear my mind, I ended up here." Meg took a deep breath, trying to paste on a neutral mask.
"Would you care to join me for a cup of coffee?" Ben nodded toward the cafe down the street, his hands behind his back as he stood at parade rest, even in jeans.
Meg didn't answer immediately, trying to decide. She didn't want to be alone, but she didn't want to share her troubles with Fraser either.
"It's unprofessional I suppose, I shouldn't have put you in that position, my ap..."
"I'd love a cup of coffee, Fraser, thank you." Meg cut him off before he could apologize again. Apologizing meant he felt sorry and he'd done nothing to be sorry for.
"After you." Benton gestured for Meg to take the lead. Dief groaned, catching his human's attention.
"I'll meet you back at the consulate in a while." Fraser said in a low tone. The wolf just turned and walked up the sidewalk to the consulate.
"How do you know he'll be there when you get back?" Meg asked, trying to make conversation so Fraser wouldn't ask her anything.
"Trust, over the years we've earned each other's trust." Together they began strolling down the sidewalk toward the cafe. Pools of yellow light from the streetlights illuminated the way.
"The way you and the detective have earned each other's trust?" Meg continued, shoving her hands into her pockets.
"Yes," Benton answered thoughtfully.
"I've seen the way you quarrel with Detective Vecchio, ah, with Ray, how do you trust someone you can't get along with?"
Fraser paused, trying to decide the best way to answer her double entandre.
"Ray and I may disagree but we know when the time comes either of us will do whatever it takes to protect the other, regardless of personal differences. He's my friend, I have faith in that." Benton held Meg's gaze when she looked up at him.
"Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of of things not seen." Meg quoted Hebrews chapter eleven, verse one.
"Exactly." Fraser sounded pleased to hear her quote.
"The cafe is still open." Meg avoided the awkward silence between them as she stepped quickly toward the small shop.
Estelle's Cafe was still open, a brisk business keeping the place hopping until nearly midnight. It was a nondescript place, a few tables against one wall, a display case of pastries and an array of coffee paraphenalia taking up the bulk of the space behind the cash register. Fraser opened the door for Meg to walk into the heavenly smelling cafe. She waited almost five minutes for him to quit holding the door open for other patrons. Finally, Fraser joined her at the end of the moderate line. They stood in silence, both examining the menu board behind the register.
A few minutes later the Mounties took their coffees and bear claws to-go. Fraser ordered a second bear claw for Dief, to share the next morning. Walking back to the consulate, the pair kept their thoughts to themselves, instead enjoying the uncrowded streets and nice weather.
"Would you like to sit on the steps, Margaret?" Benton asked, hoping to maintain the cordial feeling between them.
"I didn't want to go in either." Meg brushed off the top step before sitting down on the cool cement.
Fraser studied her out of the corner of his eye for a moment. Meg still seemed distracted, in a quite different mood from the one she'd left the consulate in. He wondered what burdened her.
"Is there anything you'd like to talk about?" Ben wondered if she'd had a spat with her mother since leaving the consulate. Overhead the Canadian flag snapped in the wind.
"I just needed to get out of the apartment, clear my head, I'm fine, Fraser." Meg gave him the same answer she'd given him earlier.
"Understood." Fraser answered crisply.
"It's not like that," Meg set her coffee down on the step, leaning back to look up at the sky. With a sigh she began again. "I had a fight with a friend, some things were said that shouldn't have been."
"You are still upset with your friend?" Fraser said tentatively, trying not to say the wrong thing.
"I'm upset with myself mostly. Patricia has a husband, a beautiful daughter and I am so envious I can't see straight. I've worked hard for my position, for respect from fellow officers. I've tried to serve my country honorably and I'm jealous of a housewife. Patricia and I had so many dreams when we were younger." Meg leaned back on her elbows, still staring up at the neon lit sky overhead.
"Have your dreams changed since then?" Benton asked, holding on to the openness between them, the free and easy communication. Meg turned to look over at him, her dark eyes misty.
"Not changed, so to speak, I suppose I've added to them. I wanted to be an RCMP officer now I want to be an officer and a mother." She ran her fingers through her short hair, coffee forgotten.
"You'll be as fine a mother as you are an officer, Margaret." Benton reassured her, his light eyes staring at her profile against the wrought iron railing behind her. Meg let out a dry, rueful chuckle.
"Some would say I'm not a very good officer." She took a deep breath. She'd overcome so many obstacles to become a Inspector. People perceived Meg as so many things she wasn't, all of them nasty.
"I disagree." Two words that made Meg feel better, especially paired with the sincerity in Fraser's eyes and the warm hand he laid gently over hers for a brief moment.
"How do you always see the good in people, Fraser, it mystifies me. I've treated you and Turnbull awfully and yet here you sit, making me feel better." Meg's wine lips twitched as she quickly blinked her misty tears away.
"My grandmother taught me to treat others as I would have them treat me in return." Benton squeezed her fingers gently, letting a real smile brighten his face. He held her gaze for a long moment, trying to determine the emotion he saw there. Whatever it was, Benton felt his heart speed up.
Meg felt Fraser's calloused fingers against her smaller hand. He was so warm, so different from the stiff, professional officer she'd come to know since arriving in Chicago. She'd wasted so much time trying to force him out of the Force, trying to ignore him, trying to deny her emotions and attraction. Fraser was her friend because he wanted to be, not because of anything she'd done, or what he would gain. He wanted to make her feel better.
"Thank you, Fraser." Meg nudged him with her shoulder. Then it struck her, she'd called him 'Fraser'.
"No, I meant thank you, Benton." Meg nodded confidently, saying his name like a friend.
"You are most welcome, Margaret." Benton smiled, nudging her back playfully.
They talked for a little while longer before Fraser insisted on calling a cab to take Meg home. She insisted that she would be fine, but let him call a cab anyway. It was nice to be taken care of on occasion. TYKTYKTYK