Chapter 3 - Something's Got to Give

Monday morning arrived too soon. Meg had already decided that one thing she needed to do was negotiate an exception to the no pets policy that her building had, because spending the night in Benton's sparsely furnished apartment was charming in a rustic way, but the lack of modern plumbing was not. And she couldn't ask him not to be responsible for his wolf's well being.

Ray arrived to pick up Fraser shortly after nine am and was very surprised upon reaching his apartment to find that Fraser was still not back in uniform.

"You feeling okay?"

"I'm fine, Ray." Fraser said. He had a curiously uneasy expression on his face. "Please, come in, sit down."

"What's up?" Ray took a seat and Fraser sat opposite him.

"Well, I decided that you were right, I need to take some risks in order to give this thing with Meg a chance. But I'm afraid that means... Ray, I have a medical reason to be on leave for another few weeks, and I'm taking them. Then, I am owed some leave, which I was saving to go North for a while in the summer. I'm taking a sabbatical. Just for two months. That should give us time to see if what we have is real."

Ray understood now why Fraser was looking so uneasy. He was dumping their partnership, just like that! Sure, only for two months, but since when would he even think about giving up pursuit of a dangerous criminal?

"So you're not going after Loman with me?"

"Well." Fraser sighed. "I don't see why I can't help in a civilian capacity. I know it's not the same, but I still have a mind, and I can still discuss the case with you. I just don't think I can justify riding along."

"But jeez, Benny, Loman tried to get Inspector Thatcher killed. Loman's guy shot you. C'mon, you're not just going to quit the case on me? Right? Don't you think you're overreacting?"

"I'm sorry, Ray. But I know you can catch Loman. And I will help as much as I can, I promise. I need to find out if this thing between Meg and I is going to last. And I can't put her career in jeopardy while I do that. It's still technically not permissible for us to be together, I'm still bending the rules, but it does put her in a safer position."

Ray rubbed his head. He'd told the Mountie to do whatever it took to make things work, to take a chance. It was better than running off on a train with a crazy, psycho bitch. But he still felt hurt.

"I guess I should be going, then." he said coldly. "Lots to be done."

"Ray..." Fraser said. "I don't like this, but I don't see a way around it. Believe me, I'd rather not abandon the case, or stop being your partner, even for a short while."

Ray smiled. It was nice to hear that. "But for once in your life, you're putting you first? I guess I should be proud of you for that."

"Stay a few minutes and tell me what your plans are for the day?" Fraser asked, ostensibly casually.

Ray considered. It was awfully tempting to tell Mr. 'By the Book' that he couldn't be sitting around wasting time and sharing confidential police information with civilians. It would serve him right for ditching the Loman case. On the other hand, his morally rigid friend was stretching the rules to be able to date his superior and trying to stretch them so he could still be there for Ray.

"All right Benny. You know how Saturday morning I was telling you, Loman's immediate family's been a dead end?"

Fraser nodded, leaning over the table, giving Ray his full attention.

"Okay, well, while you were napping on Saturday, I dug through a list of places Loman used to socialize and shook a few trees. Came up with a name and a picture, some girl he was nailing on the side."

Fraser winced at Ray's description of the young lady.

Ray pulled a photo out of his pocket.

"That's her. Camilla Dawson."

Camilla had bleached blonde hair, long fingernails, red lips, and rather obvious colored contact lenses in an improbable shade of violet.

"Problem is, so far she's gone to ground. Loman's trout of a wife is still holed up in the mansion, so I'm guessing if the blonde's taken off, she might know where he is. He might still want to hang on to her. I just gotta get a break on finding her."

Fraser looked at the photo thoughtfully.

"Ray, that's some unique art that the young lady has on her fingernails."

Indeed, the long acrylic nails were each airbrushed with an image, a blush-worthy (in Fraser's case) rendition of the silhouette of an unclothed woman.

"Yeah, but bad taste isn't a crime, yet, Benny." Ray said.

"No, but I would imagine that the art work is distinct to each nail artist. If you were to canvas some of the nail salons in her neighborhood you might be able to gather some useful intelligence."

Ray made a face. "Well, that's a better lead than I had. But I wish you were coming with me if I have to go door to door chatting up manicurists in the hopes of tracking down some girl who may or may not have a clue as to Loman's location."

"Believe it or not, Ray, I sincerely wish that, too."

Ray stood up. "Guess I'd better hustle my butt over to the South Side. So now you have all this time on your hands, what are you going to do with it? I mean, we both know if you had taken your leave up North like you planned, you'd just have found some criminal to trail across hundreds of miles of tundra. What's Chicago got that compares to that?"

Fraser made an unreadable face, his lips contorted somewhere between a smile and a look of intense anxiety.

"Since the solution that I have found to continue seeing Meg is tenuous at best, and rather temporary, I believe I will be - what is the phrase? Ah. Looking for 'career opportunities' outside the Force."

Ray did a double take.

"Benny, you cannot be serious!" he exclaimed. "I mean, I can allow you need some time to adjust here, but you don't really think that you have to leave the force? Just keep things quiet, who's going to care? Who's going to tell? It's not like Turnbull's going to drop a dime on you to Ottawa."

Fraser shook his head. "Something has to give. The reasons for the policies on commanding officers not fraternizing with their subordinates are sound, even if currently distasteful to me. It's not just the power dynamic. You and I know that none of this has anything to do with Meg having control over my career. I might be able to ignore that, although I would hate to be violating protocol so thoroughly.

"But the other reasons. What if something happened, Ray? What if I had to choose between saving Meg or preventing harm to a civilian? What if someone threatened to hurt Meg to prevent me from doing my duty? Or did the same to me to influence her? My judgement toward Meg and hers toward me cannot possibly be professional, cannot possibly be calm and rational if we are lovers."

He stopped, and Ray could see the familiar tide of red rising up his face.

"Huh. Benny, you're the only guy I know who runs up against a rule that's stopping him from doing what he wants and says, 'Hey, maybe they have a point.'"

"Well, Ray," Fraser countered, looking puzzled, "people don't just go around making rules for the fun of it. They usually have a good reason."

Ray snorted. "Uh-huh, and that's where we'll have to disagree. I know plenty of petty little dictators who get off on making up stupid rules. What about that dogcatcher?"

Fraser paused for a moment with his mouth open, and then shook his head. He wasn't in the mood for one of their philosophical arguments.

"It's just in this case, there are so many ways that Meg could get hurt, either her career, or... worse."

"Well. If that's the way you feel, I guess you have to do what you have to do, Benny. But you - not be a Mountie? That's crazy."

Fraser looked rueful. "Does it make sense that I'd dive in front of a bullet for Meg, but I wouldn't consider giving up the uniform? But, Ray..." he shook his head sadly.

Ray bit his tongue. Hadn't Fraser said that Meg said she'd fight for him? So how come he was the one who had to make all the sacrifices? Except that was just like Benny. That was what he would do. Whatever it took to make the situation right. It seemed like whether or not the two Mounties ended up together, there was heartache of some kind in Fraser's future.

"How 'bout I drop by after work today and tell you what I found? Of course, I'd promise to call you if we get Loman, but since you still won't get a phone in this place..." he teased.

Fraser smiled, grateful for the change of subject.

"That'd be great, Ray." he said.

After Ray left, Fraser walked downstairs with Diefenbaker, bought a newspaper, and went to the park. Reading through the employment section was a novelty. Not that he really expected to find anything that would do. It was hard to imagine anything more suitable than the job he already loved.

Fraser flipped through the paper and enjoyed the sun on his face. It was good not to be moving. Hiding how rough he felt was instinctual, like a wounded animal protecting itself. There was no point letting other people worry about what couldn't be helped. But being able to relax out of sight of his friends was a relief. He turned the pages slowly. He'd been working two jobs for so long that the prospect of a day with no urgency to do anything was daunting, especially since he couldn't fill it with useful activity like maintenance around his building.

At about the same time, Meg Thatcher was sitting in Lieutenant Welsh's office down town having an uncomfortable conversation.

"You're telling me, off the record, that you're in a relationship with Constable Fraser, and that as a result, he's dropping off the face of the planet right when we could use him to track Loman?" Welsh said.

"Effectively, yes." Meg squirmed under his direct gaze. "I know I probably haven't used the best judgement in this case, but-"

Welsh sighed. "But anyone who wasn't blind or biased could see that things were going to get to this point sooner or later." he said, unsentimentally. In his experience, the heightened danger and excitement of certain parts of law enforcement, combined with the truly horrendous work hours that made dating normal humans unlikely, quite frequently led to situations like this. He had observed Thatcher blow up unnecessarily at Fraser on time too many to be deeply surprised by this outcome.

"I suppose you could say that. I can't say I saw it coming myself." Thatcher said. She appreciated that so far he wasn't making official noises about the whole thing.

"Vecchio's worked without a partner before. He can make do for now. Especially with the Bureau here to keep him busy. I'm not thrilled, but then I do realize just how lucky we've been to have additional head count in the form of Constable Fraser's shining countenance at no additional stretch to my budget, so I can't complain too much."

He looked at her with a witheringly severe gaze. "But just be careful. He's a damn good officer, and you're no slouch at what you do. Try not to screw things up, for god's sake."

"I appreciate your concern. And... I'd appreciate it if you could keep it between us."

Welsh tapped the side of his nose. "That's a given, Inspector. Just get things sorted out."

Get things sorted out? Meg smiled wryly to herself as she strode out of the police station, refusing to look as if she come with hat in hand in to ask a personal favor.

She'd never planned to have something like this to sort out. That wasn't part of what was supposed to happen. That wasn't part of running a tight ship, playing by the rules, doing what had to be done. That wasn't part of Inspector Margaret Thatcher's swift rise through the ranks - which had already been set back by the move to Chicago.

Meg drove back to the Consulate. Every glimpse of a red shirt, or a tall, dark haired man made her think of her own sweetheart. It felt strange, the bubbly sensation of a growing new love. She hadn't felt this way, she hadn't allowed herself to feel this way, not since - not since Paris.

Arriving back at the Consulate, Meg shut herself in her office. There was a pile of paperwork from the two shooting incidents. It was important that she fill it in carefully to make sure that all of Fraser's hospital bills would be covered properly, and to make sure that Ottawa understood that he had been acting correctly when he got shot in the side while not on duty. That incident would come under a lot of scrutiny.

No matter how much she tried to concentrate, Meg's mind drifted back to Paris, inevitably comparing the two situations. She'd been so very young and stupid, and he'd been another student, an artist named Rafael. He couldn't have been more different from Ben, with scruffy clothes, long wavy blond hair that he wore tied back in a leather thong, and a rebellious attitude. He'd called her his muse and told her to lose her provincial morality and be free with him. He'd painted her and seduced her in the process.

He'd been her first lover. He'd been so persuasive and brilliant. It'd been like being drunk on champagne for as long as it had lasted. It was only after she walked in on him with another woman, an older Frenchwoman, and he'd told Meg that she couldn't really expect him to be satisfied with just her inexperienced, prudish ways (after all she'd given him!) that she realized Rafael didn't love her in return, had been using her, for money, for sex, just getting what he could from a naïve young woman. She'd been crushed, and when she returned to Canada, she had guarded her heart closely.

The men she'd told Ben about during the carriage ride were the safe options she stuck with after the mistake of falling in love with the selfish Rafael. They were the suitable choices who were supposed to align with the career and the life that she wanted. Men of the right social status and income. They might have hurt her, but they'd never broken her heart. She never let them get close to it. Now she'd left herself wide open to be just as shattered as she was after Rafael, only, this wasn't some silly schoolgirl infatuation as she'd later come to think of Paris. This was different. Ben might be the one, the love of her life. They just had to make it work.

Ben was an unsuitable match by the standards she'd set for herself, but he wasn't selfish, no one could ever say that. He wasn't trying to change her or manipulate her. He was so different from anyone she'd known before. She just hoped he was as crazy about her as she seemed to be about him.

The memory of a certain look in Ben's eyes made Meg's breath hitch in her throat. One thing she'd forgotten about falling in love was how distracting it was when she had to settle to routine tasks. Once she had started to think about that look, it wasn't long before her daydreams progressed elsewhere and any chance of immersing herself in paperwork flew out the window.

Meg came over to Fraser's apartment after her day at the Consulate was done, with a quick stop on the way to pick up a present for Fraser. He greeted her at the door with a kiss. It was amazing to her how quickly she was becoming accustomed to that, how quickly it seemed like she couldn't do with out it.

Even after they had shared intimate moments, Meg more or less expected that Fraser would still be somewhat physically distant, restrained. It seemed to be in his nature. It surprised her, although she found it utterly endearing, that reality seemed to be the reverse. Whenever they were in proximity, he seemed to crave the small gestures of touch, his hand brushing against hers, or if they were standing close, he would lean down and kiss the back of her neck, his lips just grazing her skin. She was still making sense of him, but from what she could tell, he was unused to being treated with free physical affection and was dizzy with the newness of it.

The other thing that surprised her was how much he smiled. It turned out that he had a brilliant smile, the kind that made her heart flutter. She thought it was probably a good thing she hadn't seen much of it before or she would have only fallen for him even faster. He had always seemed formal and solemn in her presence, but now he would light up so easily. Like now, when she walked in and set her shopping bag down on the table and said, "I missed you today, Ben." It was the first time she'd used the familiar diminutive of his name, and his eyes sparkled with obvious happiness as he told her he'd missed her too. It woke in her an answering smile. It seemed so long since she'd had reason to smile genuinely so much, not the readily mustered faux bonhomie of the diplomat.

"I brought you a present." she said. She was nervous, there was no telling how he'd take it.

Fraser opened the bag and pulled out the box inside.

"A cell phone?" he said with surprise. "Thank you, but I've never really felt the need..."

Meg ran her fingers through her hair. "Actually, it's not really for you. Well, it is for you. It's just that it's more for me. I would like you to carry it. Benton, I don't think I could stand knowing that you could be running into danger and not being able to contact you. After last week. God. It's hard enough knowing how close I came to losing you." Her voice shook slightly.

Fraser's eyes widened with comprehension.

"Understood." he said gently. He opened the box. The phone was clearly state of the art.

"I'll pay the account, of course." Meg said briskly.

Fraser scratched his eyebrow. "That won't be necessary." he said. His tone of voice was neutral, but Meg knew immediately she'd crossed a line. He did have his pride. Even if she was asking him to carry the phone as a favor to her, he wouldn't want any hint of being a kept man. He was certainly not the sort of man who would use her for what he could get out of it.

"Of course not." she said. "Well, there are details on how to set up a plan and an account in the front of the user's manual. I hope you like it. It would help you keep in touch with Detective Vecchio, too."

Fraser smiled. He was grateful that she was making the effort to respect his existing partnership with Ray. She hadn't always been very nice to Ray. Not that she'd always been nice to him, either. But this gave him hope that she realized that Ray was very important to him. Ray and Meg had quite a bit in common, in his opinion. They just both needed to figure that out.

Ray chose that moment to arrive. He was looking rumpled and cross as he burst in, barely knocking at the same time as entering the room.

"Benny, the day I've had- " he began, then he saw Meg.

"Oh, Inspector Thatcher, sorry, I should have expected I'd see you here." His smile was thin.

Fraser raised an eyebrow. "Meg brought me a present." he said. He held up the phone.

"Wow. Dragging Benny kicking and screaming into the twentieth century, I see!" His thin smile changed to a genuine beam of approval in Meg's direction. "Lemme get the number for that. It'd be nice not to have to send smoke signals."

"I don't believe it's connected yet, Ray." Fraser said. "But trust me, you'll be the second to know."

Ray looked back and forth between Thatcher and Fraser. They probably wanted some time alone. 'Welcome to being a third wheel, Ray', he thought to himself. But he did have a reason for being there.

"Anyway, I just came over to let you know how things went on the Loman case. Need to give you a heads' up. Agents Whitman and Thoreau are going to want to talk to you again tomorrow. Welsh asked me to make sure you can make it down to the station by nine."

"But I already gave my statement about the whole affair." Fraser said.

"I know Benny. I don't know what they're getting at, but I figure your track record for noticing stuff... I think they're hoping if they give it long enough they'll shake something loose."

Thatcher's brow lowered. That didn't sound like friendly cross-agency co-operation. That sounded like trouble.

"What about Ms. Dawson?" Fraser asked. "Did you have any luck locating her?"

Ray exhaled in a frustrated snort. "Not exactly. I was canvassing her neighborhood like you suggested in the morning, but those damn Bureau guys had me chatting up Loman's associates, who we already interviewed, all afternoon."

"That sounds frustrating." Fraser said.

"Yeah, not really a whole lot of use." Ray shrugged. "Anyway, I better leave you two crazy kids to it, huh?" He smirked, watching the predictable flush begin on Fraser's neck. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do, Benny."

Fraser coughed, lost for words for a second, then said, "Just a moment, Ray. We haven't eaten dinner yet. Perhaps we could all go out and get a bite to eat?"

Fraser knew Ray had a perfectly good home cooked meal waiting for him. That wasn't the point. The point was that Ray had gone out of his way since the very first week Fraser had arrived in Chicago, alone and lonely, to be there for him and make sure he wasn't always in absolute solitude save for the wolf. Fraser wasn't about to ditch him just because he had other company now.

"Yes, I think that would be a good idea, Detective. You look like you could stand to unwind." Meg said. It wasn't easy to be gracious when her inner six year old was screaming 'mine, mine, mine', but as much as she would like to slam the door on the world and be with Ben, she could see that he was trying to protect his friendship with Ray, too.

Ray was surprisingly touched. Apparently Fraser had learned something aside from 'try not to get shot in the spine' from the whole Victoria incident. Like that it wasn't so good to shut a friend out the moment there was a woman in the picture.

In their efforts to undo old hurts and create new connections, none of the three had any foreboding that the peaceful night out was the calm before a storm that was gathering over their heads.

Author's Note: Whew. Heavy on the exposition there. I extrapolated Meg's life in Paris from a few words in The Mask. I love that episode! Thanks for reading, and I hope you're enjoying it, and a huge thanks to those who take the time to review. It's very helpful!