Thanks for continuing to read. This is a short one. I'll put more up soon. ~Ray K.

Chapter Twenty-one: Sandwiches And Cookies

Fraser didn't take long in the consulate. He said goodbye to Turnbull on the way out, even though he knew the other Mountie couldn't answer him.

"Deli sandwiches okay?" I asked, putting the car in gear.

"Yes, that's fine."

"What did the inspector want?"

"Well... he told me that my time spent with you in the North has been credited to my career as a furlough. Apparently, I was due at least one of those, anyway. I was also supposed to take bereavement leave after my father died..."

"But you worked the case instead," I finished.

"Yes. I have taken a couple of vacations—the time Ray Vecchio and I went to restore my father's cabin, and the time I spent up there right before your arrival at the 27th."

"Okay... so, you're out of vacation days, is that what you're saying?"

He shook his head. "Quite the opposite, it would seem. My previous superiors never minded much if I didn't take regular vacations, but the new inspector is apparently particular on the subject. He insists that I take at least two weeks' vacation before the year is out. One of them will be paid."

"Well, that's nice," I said. "You can do something fun. Or relaxing. Or, if you just can't stand not working, you can help us out at the station like usual."

"I suppose so." He didn't sound enthusiastic. "Now, isn't it time you talked to me about what's been bothering you for the last week or more?"

I was caught a little unprepared, and I'm sure it showed. I couldn't say nothing was bothering me. "Yeah... I guess."

"I won't insist if you aren't comfortable telling me."

Sometimes he was just too nice. "Fraser, you're the only one I could talk to about this stuff. I just... don't know what good it will do."

"It won't do any harm, will it?"

Considering how awkward Francesca seemed to make Fraser feel sometimes, he'd probably be glad to hear that I was interested in her. "Probably not."

"You know, someone was fond of telling me that when you share something happy, you double the happiness. When you share something difficult, you cut the difficulty in half."

"Is that an Inuit saying?"

He shook his head. "My grandmother."

"Hm." I rubbed a hand over my face. "Well, this is kinda difficult. See, I finally got used to thinking of Francesca like a sister, but then Ray came back... and then it was like she didn't really need me as a brother anymore, and I kinda started hoping she might like me to be something else to her."

"I follow."

"But even though you've made it pretty clear you don't want to go out with her, she's still hanging on your every word, spending as much time with you as she can, watching for chances to get you alone..."

"Surely you're exaggerating."

I had to really work on my self-control at this point, because if anything drove me up the wall about Fraser, it was the way he just pretended everything was ideal all the time. Franny still chasing him wouldn't be ideal, so it must not be true. "I don't think I am," I said firmly. "The way you left things with her... you established that you like each other, but neither of you could put any qualifiers on it. She couldn't say, 'I like you and want to be your girl friend.' And you couldn't say, 'I like you, just not like that.' It's those little things that make the difference, and you need to learn to pay attention to them. Understand?"

He was quiet for a minute, and I worried that I might have been harder on him than I intended. Then he said, "Ray said something to me about it when we were at their house... I thought he must be making a mountain of a molehill, but if you see it that way, too..."

"We're just looking out for you. Both of you. You keep dancing around each other and someone's going to get stepped on, you know?"

He nodded. "Very well. For all our sakes, I will try to speak to Francesca about this soon."

"And don't be ambiguous."

"I won't be ambiguous."

"Lay it on the line."

"I'll be as clear as I can."

"Okay." I just hope that's clear enough.

"By the same token, do you intend to make your feelings clear to her?"

Shoot, I'd walked into that one. "Yeah... I definitely need to. But me, I'm not so sure how I feel. I like her a lot, and I'd like to be dating her. And I love her as a friend, for sure. I'd just have to see if there was more there. And I'd rather talk to her about it after you've cleared up your relationship with her, because that will make it a hell of a lot easier for me."

"I see. I will do that soon."

"Good. Thank you. And I know you're usually pretty sensible about this stuff, but just to be sure: please don't say anything about what I've told you to anyone, even Franny. Especially Franny."

"Understood." After a moment, he said, "Now, that wasn't so bad, was it?"

I huffed out a laugh. "I guess not. Guess your grandma might have been right."

We took our lunch back to Fraser's apartment and I set everything out while he took Dief outside for a walk. I tried out the couch and easy chair, and they were even more comfortable than I remembered them being at the thrift store. I could probably fall asleep on either of them.

When they got back, Dief ran up to me and put his paws on the couch, staring down at my sandwich.

"Oh, no," I told him firmly. "At least let me have first crack at it, Mister Greedy."

"Diefenbaker, that's very rude," Fraser scolded.

Dief backed off the couch and sat, not taking his eyes off my food.

I opened my bottle of soda and unwrapped my sandwich. "So, you got everything you need here, or are you still looking for some stuff? You could use a TV."

"I'll need to wait a little while before making any large purchases," Fraser answered. "Most of my readily available funds went into my deposit and the furniture I've found so far."

"Gotcha. Well, if there's anything you need that can't wait, just say the word. What good is having a neighbor if you can't borrow a cup of sugar now and then?"

"I doubt I'll be needing to borrow a cup of sugar."

"It's a... not a saying, but a... a tradition, I guess? People don't really do it anymore, but whenever people talk about borrowing stuff from neighbors, they always use a cup of sugar as the example."

"Ah. Why?"

I bit my lip. "I dunno... that's just what they ended up saying. What would you probably need to borrow?"

"Well, in Tuktoyaktuk, I would think some sort of tool, such as a handsaw, might be what I would need to borrow most often."

I sighed. He was taking all this much too seriously. "Fine. What good is having a neighbor if you can't borrow a handsaw now and then?"

"Do you have a handsaw?"

I glanced to the side. "...No. It's a hypothetical, okay?"

He shrugged. "All right..." He sounded like he thought I was the weird one.

After lunch, we went to see Ms. Tate to tell her that Ray was trying to arrange for her to see her son the following day. She cheerfully told us that Ray had already called her.

"I'm seeing him in the morning," she said happily. "It's all thanks to you."

"I merely did my best," Fraser told her, sounding saint-like. "That's all anyone can do."

"Well, I decided to bake you some cookies to say thank you."

"So that's what that delicious smell is," I said, smiling.

"That's very kind of you," said Fraser, "but you ought to take them to your son instead."

I kept my mouth shut. I had just started thinking that I would get some of these cookies, and now Fraser was trying to turn them down. Diefenbaker made a noise that told me he was in the same boat as me.

"He hasn't earned them yet," she said seriously. "If he gets his act together, I'll be happy to cook for him, but not yet."

Fraser looked uncomfortable. "Well... I'm sure they're excellent cookies," he said, "but as long as I'm involved in your son's case, it's important that I don't accept a gift of any kind from anyone else involved."

I grimaced. I knew why he was saying this—we were all supposed to turn down anything that could be construed as a bribe or payment for our actions. Stuff like that could get messy in court. A few cookies didn't seem like a big deal to me, but I knew he was right on principle.

"Oh, really?" she asked. Her expression and body language said that she was both surprised and disappointed, but covering her disappointment with the surprise.

"I'm afraid so," Fraser said sincerely. "Once all of this is over, I'd be more than happy to sample your baking, but for now it's out of the question."

"I see..." She frowned in thought. Then she looked up at me. "And you're involved in the case, too?"

I was groaning on the inside. After what happened in that interview room, I was definitely very involved. "Yeah. Sorry."

"Well. I guess I'll be taking them to my nieces, then," she decided.

Fraser smiled, seeming just as happy that she had thought of something else to do with them as he would have been to accept them himself. "I'm sure they will enjoy them very much."

She took his hand in both of hers and patted it. "Thank you very much for stopping by. You are very nice young men."

That was no consolation for not getting any cookies, but I tried to look grateful for the compliment. I waited until we were on the stairs to give Fraser my opinion.

"Cookies, Fraser? You really think dear little Miz Tate is going to stand up in court and say, 'I paid this man in cookies to arrange for my son to get a plea bargain...' Or worse, do you think her son will somehow find out about it and tell them, 'My mom gave this guy cookies to punch me during interrogation!' Seriously? We're on her side... what harm can it do?"

"That isn't the point, Ray."

"No, of course not."

"You know how these things work."

"Sure, I do. But it won't kill you to let all that duty, principle and procedure crap slide once in a while. Everybody else does, she seemed really disappointed, and they smelled like damn good cookies."

Dief gave a little bark.

Fraser sighed. "I'm sorry to disappoint her, but if something should happen, I don't think I can impress a judge by telling him how 'damn good' the cookies were. And as for all that duty, principle and procedure crap, as you put it, if you don't uphold it at every moment, how can you call yourself a member of law enforcement?"

I hated how easily he always took the moral high ground. "I know. You're right. You're always right," I grumbled.

"Ray, would you like me to buy you some cookies?"

Ugh, just keep climbing that hill of morality, Fraser. "No. That's okay. Forget it."

Thanks again for reading! Please leave a message after the click. ~Ray K.