Blue Eyes Crying in the Rain
by Tanya Reed

This was my very first Due South fan fic. I wrote it waaaay back in 1999. I remember hearing the Fred Rose penned (and sung most often by Willie Nelson) Blue Eyes Crying in the Rain and being blasted with this image (the one Meg has in this chapter. Of course, for me it wasn't real, just really cool. :)). I had to write it. I hope that you enjoy the results of my labour. As usual, I'm including my original notes:

Disclaimer: Characters, setting, show: Not mine. Never mine. Never will be mine. But nobody said I couldn't play with them.

Notes: Thanks to Lisa for reading the whole thing as it was developing. Her comments were very encouraging and helped me not to give up. The story takes place sometime between Seeing is Believing and Perfect Strangers. Two of the scenes were actually researched, but the rest are mostly pure conjecture. Now, on to the story... Oh, oops, thanks to Fred Rose for writing the song that gave me the idea...

-------------------------------------------------------

Inspector Meg Thatcher looked up from her paperwork as her constable entered. Fraser was immaculate as always, his handsome face showing the respect due her position. She especially liked the way his red serge draped his muscular frame.

"You wanted to see me, Inspector?"

"Yes, come in, Fraser. There is a matter we must discuss."

He gave a slight nod and came in the rest of the way. He closed the door behind him, then stood in a stiff, respectful pose.

"I understand that you and Detective Vecchio have been off on another one of your adventures."

"Sir?"

"Something about missing cats?"

"Actually, it was lions, sir."

"Lions."

"Uh, yes, sir. You see, someone had kidnapped two of the lions from the nearby zoo. They intended to..."

"That's enough, Fraser." She lifted a hand to stop the stream she knew was coming.

"Understood."

"Was it necessary to cause all of this damage in the pursuit of these...cats?"

"Well, sir..."

"Yes or no, Fraser." Sometimes he could be so exasperating. Getting a straight answer out of him was like pulling teeth.

"We needed..."

"Yes or no?"

He lowered his eyes. "No, ma'am."

His contrite voice made her automatically forgive him. Of course, she didn't show it.

"The Consulate will pay the damages this time, but next time, you're on your own. Is this understood?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Dismissed."

He nodded in acknowledgment and turned to go. Meg appreciated the move as she watched him from her seat. How could a man be so...so...Fraser?

"Oh, and Fraser." Her mind had been so much on the damage costs plunked on her desk by Lt. Welsh that morning, among other things, that she had forgotten the real reason she had called Fraser into her office.

"Yes, sir?" He turned back around to face her, his beautiful blue eyes looking right into hers.

Meg froze as time stopped.

She felt herself gasp as something almost solid hit her in the gut. The room began to waver and spin around her. She swayed, not hearing Fraser's alarmed question, as her hands felt around for something solid. The only thing in the room that didn't seem to be moving was Fraser.

She peered at him, trying to get her bearings, and what she saw almost turned her blood to ice. It wasn't Fraser. Not her Fraser.

Oh, God.

It was his face, those eyes. They stared at her, calling out beseechingly. The anguish in them tore at her heart. It was his body. Its stoic pose and self controlled features could belong to no one else. The rain fell around him, soaking him. It slicked his hair and his clothes to his skin. The rain was cold. She could feel the coldness as it dripped down her face as well as his. It ran down his cheekbones endearingly. How she wanted to go to him.

The water on his face was not only rain. The realization that he was crying shook her to her core. Teardrops mixed with the rain running down his face. The pain in his eyes, she was causing it. She'd give anything to stop it, if she just knew how. She wanted to reach out to him, to comfort his hurt. Slowly, she lifted her arm towards him.

Then, the flash was gone. As if from far away, she heard Fraser--the real Fraser--speaking, but she couldn't understand what he was saying.

"Wh...what?"

"Are you all right, sir?" In a moment, he was there by her side.

Meg groped for her chair, blinking. "Fraser?"

"Yes, sir. Do you need assistance?"

His hand was a steadying presence on her elbow. How long had that been there? She wanted to lean on him for an instant, but she quelled that impulse.

"No...no, Constable. I'm fine."

Still, he did not let go of her arm until she was comfortably in her seat. As she looked at him, still blinking rapidly, she thought she could see concern in his eyes.

"That will be all, Fraser. I'm not a child."

"No, sir."

He seemed to believe her on this count at least. She waved her hand impatiently. "You may go."

"Understood."

After giving her one more searching look, he turned on his heels and left. Meg watched him go, and it was all she could do to keep her mouth from gaping.

What the hell was that?

-------------------------------------------

It was later that day when Meg, almost recovered from her flash of something heard a knock on her door. Quickly, she ripped the glasses from her face, shoving them in a drawer, and turned from her computer. She ran a hand quickly through her short hair to be on the safe side, then said, "Come in."

A pretty dark face peeked around the door. "You home?"

Meg rolled her eyes. "If I wasn't home, Francesca, would I have said come in?"

"You never know, it could be some Canadian thing."

She came in and shut the door behind her. Languidly, she moved across the room. Meg noticed her shirt was so short that her abdomen was exposed and her jeans were so tight they could have been painted on.

"So, are you done?" Frannie asked, unceremoniously plunking herself down on Meg's desk.

"Sword of Desire?"

A nod. "Sword of Desire."

"You do realize, I don't usually read this type of book..."

"Nah," Frannie said with understanding.

"...But you made it sound so interesting. I wanted to know what happened to the pool boy," She waved her hand," English lord."

"So, did you finish it?"

"Yesterday. What was with that ending?"

"I know." Frannie sighed. "How could he go back to England and not take her with him? I was so mad. And it was such a great book."

"Maybe she'll write a sequel."

"I hope so. I hate sad endings."

Meg studied the woman sitting on her desk, now looking a little downcast. There was no one else in the world she could imagine herself having so little in common with. Not to mention they were both attracted to the same man. By all rights, the two of them should be indifferent to each other, if not enemies. The funny thing was, Meg liked Francesca Vecchio, and the spicy Italian seemed to like her.

They had worked on a case together about a month before and, despite their different backgrounds, for a moment they had shared a vision. Afterwards, Meg had asked to borrow the book that had started it all and suddenly--to both of their surprise--they found themselves friends. Meg couldn't believe that the first real friend she had made in Chicago (not counting Fraser, of course, but he didn't know that she considered him a good friend) was someone like Frannie. She had been shopping more times in the past month than she had since moving to Chicago.

Her mind going back to the book, Meg reached into the deepest drawer in her desk. She searched under all of the papers and folders she had piled on top, finally coming up with Sword of Desire. Two sets of dark eyes glanced at the cover and they sighed as one. There, the pool boy and his lover sat curled together in passion. He was buff and young with long, flowing hair, but each of them saw a handsome, soft spoken Mountie there instead.

"So," Frannie asked, burying the book in her purse. "What are you doing this afternoon?"

"Working, Francesca, as you should be."

"Come on. You're the boss. Take some time off."

"If you'll remember correctly, the last time you said that, we ended up being gone for five hours. Turnbull was ready to call out the hounds. Lieutenant Welsh almost fired you."

"But we had fun, didn't we?"

"Well, I suppose," Meg admitted. "I'm a little busy here, but I wouldn't say no to ordering Chinese. Are you hungry?"

Frannie smiled warmly. "Sure, I could eat. Will...uh...will Fraser be by this afternoon?"

Meg gave her a soft, rare smile. She completely understood where Frannie was coming from. "Actually, I think he's out with your 'brother' somewhere. He spends more time at your job than he does at his."

"Good for me."

"Indeed."

Meg picked up the phone and ordered the Chinese food, while Francesca found the rarely used second chair and pulled it up to her desk.

"You know, Meg, I really like those green curtains. They go really well with the room."

"I like them too." She didn't mention that she had discounted them until Fraser told her they matched her eyes.

"You strike me more as the type who would prefer red or blue over green."

"I usually do."

"Oh! I almost forgot. I brought you another book."

"Another book?"

"Yes. It's called Date with Destiny."

"But, Francesca, I don't like..."

Frannie drew her brows together and waved a hand. "Now don't give me that crap. I know a romantic heart beats in that chest of yours, Meg Thatcher, I've seen it for myself. Don't you deny it. And you enjoyed Sword of Desire. You'll enjoy Date with Destiny too, and you're going to read it, capiche?"

Meg gave a short nod.

"Good. It's about this woman who sees this man everywhere. She hates him...or at least thinks she does, but every time she turns around, there he is. Okay, so she moves to this town and low and behold--there he is! There is just no way she can get away from this guy."

"Did she try a restraining order?"

Frannie gave her a stern look. "Just read the book."

She handed it over the desk and Meg took it, quickly hiding it from view. She would read it, yes, but she wouldn't promise to enjoy it.

"The idea of two people destined to be together...it just gives me shivers."

"There's no such thing as fate, only achievements and mistakes."

"My God, Meg. You are so cynical."

"Not cynicism, reality. There's no..." As Meg was about to launch into a speech on practicality, her mind flashed back to what had happened to her that morning. there was no rational explanation for it, but it had happened. She had seen...

"Meg?...Meg?...Inspector Thatcher?"

"I'm sorry, Francesca...Can I confide in you?"

Frannie shrugged. "Sure. Blow."

"What?"

The dark Italian rolled her hand. "You know go."

Meg drew her brow together in puzzlement. "Do you mean shoot?"

"Whatever. Unburden your soul."

"Something strange happened to me this morning." Meg got up and began to pace. "I'm not one to speak about my personal life, but this really shook me." She turned to see Frannie raise her eyebrows at her. "Yes, I can be shaken up. I'm not the Ice Queen that Ray seems to think I am..."

"You know about that?"

"I do have ears, Frannie. Anyway, it was so strange. I was talking to Constable Fraser when it happened..."

She could tell Frannie was immediately enthralled. "What? What happened?"

"You're going to think I'm crazy."

"No, I won't. I swear." Frannie put one hand on her heart and one in the air.

"I saw...I don't even know what I saw." Meg started pacing again. "It was like someone had taken a photograph--no, not even a photograph, it was too real. It was like someone had taken another Constable Fraser and put him over top of our Fraser. I saw him, but it wasn't him. It was like a...um...memory of him. I don't know how else to explain it."

"Wow. What was he doing?"

"He was standing in the rain." She didn't tell her that Fraser had been crying.

"That's amazing. What do you think it means?"

"Too much work, not enough sleep?"

"No, Meg. It must mean something. Maybe you know Fraser from before."

"What do you mean?"

"Like a past life or something."

"Don't be ridiculous."

"No, don't you see? It fits."

"Francesca, I believe in previous lives about as much as I believe in destiny."

"You live a sorry little life, don't you?"

Meg was hurt. "There's no need to insult me."

Frannie was passed it already. "I wonder how you knew Fraser before. I wonder if I was there. This is so cool."

"Can we just change the subject, please? I feel like a moron."

There was a knock on the door. "That must be our Chinese."