Disclaimer: The characters' belong to Alliance, the story is mine.
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It was after five by the time he reached the Consulate. He had no idea if she would be there, but it was located between the station and her apartment, so he had decided to check there first. The main building was dark when he arrived, but he fished out his key and entered anyway.
The alarm was not on, which made him suspect that there was still someone in the building. Making his way cautiously up the stairs, he noticed that there were no lights on in any of the rooms. He looked around puzzled. Perhaps Turnbull had locked up and simply forgotten to put the alarm on. It wouldn't be the first time.
Deciding to make one last check of the offices, he knocked lightly on the Inspector's door, before gently pushing against the wood. He had taken a couple of steps into the room when he saw her. Her big dark eyes were watching him from where she sat. He hadn't expected to find her here, especially not huddled on the floor in a corner of the room.
"Inspector?" His voice was soft in the dim light.
"Come to gloat, have you?" Despite her words, there was no real bitterness in her voice, the statement delivered matter-of-factly.
"No," he shook his head, advancing further into the room. "I came to make sure you were all right."
She laughed softly at that. "Always the good officer. Don't you ever get tired of being perfect, Fraser?"
"I'm not perfect, Ma'am."
She shrugged. "Then why work so hard trying to make everyone think that you are?" she asked.
"I don't know," he answered honestly.
Running her hands up her cheeks, rubbing away the last of the tears, she stood.
"Well, as you can see, I'm fine, so you can go back to making the streets safe for the citizens of Chicago or whatever it is that you do when you're not working here. Goodnight, Constable." She turned away from him, the dismissal obvious.
"Forgive me, Sir, but you don't seem all right to me." He knew he was treading on dangerous ground, but finding her here like this, he felt that he had to at least make an effort to get her to talk to him, to let her know that he was there if she needed him.
"Constable, I have some important documents I need to look over, and I am sure you must have more important things to be doing too, so why don't you just go back to the station and discuss whatever it is you feel you need to discuss with that detective friend of yours." Her voice was ice, her tone telling him to leave.
But he couldn't. He made no attempt to move towards the door, or even from the spot he stood on in front of her desk.
"Damn it, Fraser!" She turned on him. "What do you want to know, huh? Yes, I had an affair with a married man. Yes, his wife found out about us, but no, it wasn't what you think. I…" Her voice faltered with the last statement and she put her hand up to her face again, willing the tears to stay back.
"You love him." Fraser finished the sentence for her, his eyes dropping to the floor.
Meg looked across at her second in command. He looked so dejected standing there. He was right, she had loved the man, more than anyone she had ever met before, but it was over and had been for a long time now. But that didn't mean that it didn't still hurt. Some wounds just took longer to heal than others. She was suddenly reminded of the mess she had walked in on when she had first taken over this command. Her deputy's involvement with a woman had left him near-death on a station platform, a bullet from his best friend's gun in his back. Perhaps he understood forbidden relationships better than most.
"I loved him," she corrected softly. "Past tense."
Fraser looked up at her then, his eyes full of compassion. "Loving someone you shouldn't -- it's hard," he commented.
Meg nodded. "Yes, it is."
"How does your cheek feel?"
Meg smiled ruefully at his question. "Sore," she said.
"I'm sorry."
"It wasn't you who hit me."
"No, but I should have been able to stop it." He sounded upset, like somehow he was to blame for her bruise.
"Nobody's that fast, Fraser," she said. "And I probably deserved it."
"No one deserves that, Sir." His voice was soft, but full of feeling. "Especially not you."
She looked at him, her eyes boring into his. "You always want to see the best in people, Fraser, but have you ever considered that maybe some people just don't have that goodness in them?"
"Inspector…"
"No, listen to me, Fraser." Her tone was authoritative, commanding him to hear her words. "I don't deserve your sympathy. I knew exactly what I was doing when I slept with him. I knew he was married, I knew he had a family, and yet I did it anyway. Does that sound like something a good person would do, huh?"
Fraser watched as her eyes blazed with anger and regret and pain. He knew what she must be feeling, he knew because he felt the exact same emotions every time he thought about Victoria.
"Just because you made a mistake, it doesn't make you a bad person."
"Tell that to his wife," she muttered bitterly. "Or his children."
Fraser looked away. How could he make her see that this did not affect his opinion of her? That one action in the past did not determine who you are now.
"Do you think I'm a bad person?" he asked softly, half afraid of her answer.
Meg's head snapped up at his question. How could he ask that? She didn't think a nicer, kinder, gentler person than Benton Fraser could possibly exist.
"No, of course I don't."
"Even though I betrayed my best friend and the people I worked with, disregarded the law and the rules I am meant to enforce, and tried to run away with a convicted felon?"
"Fraser…" She tried to say something, but he stopped her.
"No, hear me out. Like you, I knew exactly what I was doing. I knew it would cost Ray his job, his house, his life as he knew it, and yet, when it came down to it, I still chose the wrong path."
"But you tried to stop her in the end." Meg's voice was so soft that Fraser wondered if he should tell her. Wondered if he should shatter her opinion of him. Taking a deep breath, he told her the truth that he had only ever before told Ray.
"I was going with her."
His quiet statement hung in the air, neither person knowing exactly how to react to the confession. Meg simply stood, silently watching the emotions play across his face. The pain and guilt were obvious in his normally peaceful features; his eyes stormy and dark. Meg was suddenly, forcefully reminded of the time on the train and the look in Fraser's eyes as Bolt had disconnected their carriages. She had been forced to stand there – a gun to her head – and watch as Fraser and Frobisher shrunk from view. Even with the rapidly increasing distance, she had seen the look; watched as Fraser's jaw clenched tightly; the same stormy expression in his eyes then as was radiating from them now.
Meg suddenly found herself wondering if he really thought of her in the same way as the Metcalfe woman; felt for her what he had felt for the other woman. She didn't know whether to be flattered or frightened by the thought. Oh God, did he really want that much from her? Or was he simply transferring his guilt and feelings from one relationship on to another? Realising she had no way of getting the answers to any of her questions, and knowing she probably would not like them if she did, Meg started to talk, simply to fill the silence that, until then, neither had been able to break.
"He worked in the legal department in Toronto," Meg began softly, sinking down into her chair. "We worked together on a case this one time and, while there was an obvious attraction between us, nothing happened. I knew he was married and I had no intention of getting involved with him." She paused, gathering her thoughts.
"A while later, we met again at an art exhibition at the museum. He was there with his wife, but she had been called away on an emergency of some sorts and he was just wandering around aimlessly. He didn't really understand art and when we bumped into each other, he asked me to explain some of the pieces to him, so that he could impress his wife when they got home. It wasn't meant to be anything more than that, but somehow we ended up at this all-night café, talking about everything and nothing.
"It was so nice, to find someone who understood me, understood what I was thinking. He had such a wicked sense of humour, and he was so nice, that I just didn't think about the fact he was married." Meg closed her eyes, willing her voice to be strong.
"When he kissed me, I kissed him back. I shouldn't have, I knew his wife would be waiting for him and yet, it didn't seem to matter. I have never felt so completely out of control. It was as if I couldn't say no. He made me feel safe and wanted like no one else ever had."
The tears were steadily dripping down her cheeks again now, but she made no attempt to stop them, knowing it would be pointless.
"In the end, his wife found out. She told me that, unless I wanted her to start explaining this to my superiors, I should transfer out of Toronto as soon as possible. So I left my home, left everything, and ended up in Ottawa, working for Henri Cloutier which was, of course, hell but I guess I deserved that for what I had done.
"Henri would… he would, well, you saw what he's like, but eventually I couldn't take it anymore. And so I ended up here, because I said no, once and for all, and because Henri wanted to show me what he could do." Meg closed her eyes, wishing he would just leave now, let her be alone with her misery.
"I'm sorry." His tone was not what she had been expecting. It held no blame, no contempt for her actions. In fact, it was slightly rough, and he sounded upset.
Meg lifted her eyes to his, half-dreading what she would see there. She didn't want him to hate her, she didn't even want his pity. She just wanted… Hell, she didn't know what she wanted, which was half the problem. Letting her eyes drop away from his again, she sighed, wondering what he would do next.
"Meg."
That was not what she was expecting. He had never used her given name, especially not the shortened version of it, and especially not in that tone. She looked up, finding herself suddenly breathless as he moved to kneel in front of her chair. His fingers gently brushed away her tears, mindful of the bruise on her cheek.
"You deserved so much more than that. What Henri did was unfair and you should not have been punished for saying no. I would give anything to take that pain away."
His words only succeeded in starting her tears again. After everything she had done to him, everything she had said, he was still here, telling her she was a good person, telling her that he cared. She closed her eyes against the emotions that were threatening to overwhelm her, and then almost stopped breathing as she felt his lips gently touch her face, capturing every tear she cried.
Fraser couldn't believe he was doing this, kissing her like this. She was upset and he was taking advantage, he knew that, but he couldn't help himself. There was so much pain in her eyes that he just wanted to take some of it away, show her that she was worth so much more than what Henri had tried to make her into.
Pulling away, he looked down, though his hands remained softly touching her face. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I…"
He was cut off as her fingers came to rest on his lips, silencing his apology.
"I know. Thank you," she said.
They stayed like that, both needing the intimacy of the moment. Neither wanted to pull away, and yet Fraser knew he could not stay there like that. She was hurting and vulnerable, which meant that now was not the right time. The truth was, she was his superior, which meant that there was never going to be a good time, but Fraser tried to ignore the voice inside his head, mocking him with that fact. Eventually he managed to take his hands away from her body. Pulling back slightly, he looked her in the eyes. Her tears had stopped and there was a kind of peace in her eyes that hadn't been there earlier.
"I should take you home." Fraser's soft voice broke the silence.
Meg looked away. After everything they had been through, everything they had just confessed in the past few minutes, he was behaving as though he was still just her junior officer. Perhaps, a small voice inside reminded her, that was all he was willing to be. Driving her home, when home was the last place on earth she wanted to go at that moment. What was there to go home for anyway? Her empty apartment only served to remind her how completely alone she was. Meg couldn't bring herself to face him or the look that would be in his eyes at what she believed was her obvious weakness, a weakness female superior officers could not afford to have. Standing up, she moved away as he got to his feet.
"I'm fine, Constable. You are dismissed," Meg said, reverting back to her official persona, not knowing how else to deal with what had just happened. She just wanted to be left alone. She was upset and hurt and not thinking clearly, and all she wanted to do was curl up into a ball and shut out the world.
Fraser watched her walk to the window, feeling her move further away from him both physically and emotionally. He hadn't meant to upset her, he just knew that she was not as composed as she would have liked, and he did not want to take advantage, no matter how much he may have wished to hold her in his arms again.
"Ma'am, I…"
"Please leave, Constable. I am quite capable of looking after myself." Her tone was sharp, brusque, and left no room for argument.
Fraser still made no attempt to leave. His mind was spinning, trying to figure out how to fix this. He didn't want to leave her like this, believing something that wasn't true, but how could he stay without upsetting her further?
"Please, Ma'am, if I could just explain…"
"I think I understand perfectly well, Constable." Meg turned to face him, her eyes filled with pain and shame. She refused to meet his eyes, not wanting to see the scorn in them, telling her how stupid she had been. She already knew that, damn it! Looking at a point somewhere over his left shoulder, Meg took a steadying breath.
"I apologise for making you uncomfortable, Constable, it will not happen again. As for now, I think it would be best if we just carried on as though this did not happen." Pushing her hair back behind her ear, Meg turned to pick up her coat and bag, intent of getting out of there before she made an even bigger fool of herself than she already had.
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A/N: I hope people are enjoying this, more coming soon.