Two days later Fraser hiked to Blue River Point with Dief. Dressed in a cream colored sweater and blue jeans, he reached the crest to find Stacy sitting on the rock cropping, her knees to her chin, starting at the setting sun.
"I thought I'd find you here," he said as Dief settled next to her.
"What do you want, Fraser?" she said, not looking at him.
"Nothing," he said, sitting down. "How are you doing?"
"I'm fine," she snapped.
"I would accept that if I knew it were true," he softly said. She gave him a dark look.
"You want to know what's wrong?" she gruffly asked. He said nothing.
"I'll tell you. I never knew my father. My mother raised me alone. She told me how kind he was, how great he was, that he stood for what he believed," she said.
Stacy stood and walked to the cliff's edge.
"He left her, six months pregnant with me, a widow to raise a child," she said, swallowing.
"And now I think that girl will never see her mother again. She nearly lost her father too," she said.
Fraser stood and approached her.
"I never knew my mother," he softly said. "All I had was my father, when he was home, that is."
"That girl without a mother. I should have killed that guy," Stacy lamented, moving too close to the edge for Fraser's comfort so his grabbed her wrist and pulled her back.
"But you kept her father alive," he said, not releasing her.
Stacy glanced at him, tears forming. He gently folded her into an embrace.
After a moment, she pulled away, embarrassed to have cried in front of anyone, especially another cop and Fraser in particular.
"I think I'm going to head home," Stacy abruptly said, slinging her backpack over her left shoulder. The right shoulder was healing nicely but still smarted.
"I'll walk you home," he said, hoisting his own pack with bedroll.
"That's unnecessary. Stay and enjoy the sunset," she said, turning from him and heading for the trail, Dief at her heels.
"Geez, not again," she muttered, dropping to one knee. She grabbed Dief's muzzle to force him to look at her.
"Stay," she said. He put a paw on her wrist in protest. She rolled her eyes and released him. She glanced at Fraser. He shrugged as he walked toward her.
"Looks like he's not going to listen," he commented. Stacy bit her lip from retorting.
Stacy unlocked her apartment door and turned to Fraser.
"Do you want to come in?" she asked, half hoping he'd say no.
"Thank you kindly, but we've got to get home," he said, his voice trailing off when Dief shot inside.
"Oh dear," Fraser said. Stacy pushed the door open wider and ushered him in. Dief lay inside at the foot of her bed.
"Diefenbaker," Fraser called, his face beginning to redden. Stacy rushed past him to shove her personal belongings into drawers and under the bed.
"I apologize for my wolf," Fraser said, his voice wavering. Trying to not to look around, he went to Dief and kneeled in front of him.
"What is with you?" he asked the wolf. "Protection? Why?"
Stacy glanced at them, pausing in her cleanup.
"What? What do you mean protection? We've been through this already!" she said, borderline frustrated.
"It appears Diefenbaker is convinced you're in need of assistance tonight. Although he won't tell me why," Fraser said, giving Dief a dirty look.
Stacy sighed.
"Unbelievable. I can take care of myself! Tell Diefenbaker I'm fine," she said.
"Ms. Calbot wants us to leave," Fraser informed Dief, who promptly ignored him and put his head down on his paws. Fraser sat back on his heels and looked apologetically at Stacy.
"I'm afraid it's no use. He's not going to listen to me," he said, standing.
"So he's staying the night?" she asked.
"Yes, ma'am," he answered. Stacy glowered.
"Well, make yourself comfortable," Stacy said, walking out of the room. Fraser glared at Dief before following her to the kitchen.
"I really must apologize," he said. "He never acts like this. I don't know what's gotten into him."
"Fraser, shut up," she said, eyeing him. He opened his mouth then shut it.
"You can throw your bedroll next to Diefenbaker," she instructed. He opened his mouth to protest, to say he could sleep in the living room, but she gave him a piercing look. He rescinded and obeyed.
"I will get you for this," he hissed at the wolf, who whined as Fraser unfolded his bedroll. "You know full well what you're doing and I must protest. Don't give me that look. She is not in danger and you know it."
"You mind if I change?" Stacy asked from the doorway. Fraser immediately closed his eyes and faced the window.
Stacy quickly donned a pair of shorts and a sweatshirt.
"You can turn around now," she said. Fraser avoided looking at her, thoroughly embarrassed.
"Surely I'm not making you that nervous," she said, staring at his flushed cheeks.
"Ah, no," he responded, still refusing to glance in her direction.
"Then what is it?" she asked.
Fraser's hormones were on parade and he blamed Diefenbaker for putting him in this position.
"Nothing," he finally said, sinking down on his bedroll. Stacy temporarily walked out to lock the front door.
"Bathroom's around the corner," she said, returning and flipping off the lights. He sat in the dark, untying his boots before settling on his stomach, head resting on his arms.
"Fraser?" Stacy said, sitting up.
"Yes?" he replied.
"Am I really in danger?" she asked. He was silent for a moment.
"Diefenbaker seems to think so," he said. Stacy lay back down. Eventually she fell asleep, hyperaware there was a Mountie and a wolf in her bedroom.
"Don't leave me!" she screamed, reaching for her father. He smiled and disappeared, leading her mother away.
"You can't go!" she yelled at her mother. Her mother waved and mouthed, "I love you," before turning away.
"No!" she shouted.
"Stacy, wake up," Fraser said, gently gripping her arm as she thrashed around. He sat on her bed, trying to rouse her. Her eyes snapped open, her body trembling and covered in a cold sweat. Diefenbaker had his nose at her thigh and she stared into his blue eyes.
"You were having a nightmare," Fraser softly said. "Was it about your parents?"
Surprised she glanced at him.
"How did you …," she said, realizing she must have been talking in her sleep. "Yes. My mother died last year."
"I'm sorry," Fraser said.
Stacy sat up and scooted back against the headboard, out of his touch.
"She loved me so much, encouraged me to go to school and then the academy. I didn't realize she was slowly leaving me," she said, her eyes welling up.
Fraser started to rise from the bed when she touched his arm.
"Don't go," she quietly said. "Tell me about your father."
He sat down and smiled.
"He was a Mountie and he was gone much of the time. I lived with my grandparents. They taught me more than I can ever thank them for. My father was a good man and he's always with me," he said.
Silence filled the room.
"Why have you never asked me out?" Stacy finally asked, shyly looking at him. He blushed.
"I hadn't found the appropriate time," he said, looking away.
"Thanks for staying," she whispered, crawling out of bed and heading for the kitchen.
Stacy reached for a glass and filled it with water, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes. What was she thinking? She had no right to ask him such questions. She set the glass down and leaned forward on the counter, her face in her hands. Her life was a disaster.
She heard Fraser move behind her.
"Stacy," he said. She turned around to face him. He drew her into his arms and she buried her face in his shoulder. It had been a long time since anyone had held her, stroked her hair, made her feel safe and even loved.
They stood there for a while, just holding onto each other. She eventually lifted her head to meet his gaze. His eyes searched hers before covering her lips with his. When they came up for air, she laid her forehead against his. They were breathing hard and there was tension in the air.
In a split second, Stacy decided to make her move. She took his hand and led him back to her bedroom. Fraser knew he should leave — right now, his brain shouted — but he didn't want to.
Hours later, Stacy shifted to her side in her sleep. Fraser wrapped an arm around her and pulled her back into his embrace, nuzzling her neck. She sighed and he tightened his grip.
They had come close to sharing more than her bed but his conscience had gotten the best of him. She had asked him to stay anyway and he had willingly complied, happy just to hold her in his arms all night. He hoped she would not hate him come morning.
Stacy woke to find Fraser gone. She shot straight up in bed and noticed Dief was still on his bedroll.
It was then Fraser returned from the bathroom. He searched her face for regret. He found none.
"I thought you had left," she murmured as he came to her side.
"That would be rude," he said, slipping back into bed and holding her close.
"Do you think Diefenbaker set us up?" she whispered in his ear.
"I would have to agree. I can't say I'm sorry, though," he replied.
Stacy laughed. They lay there for a while, before she spoke up.
"You realize we have to be at work in an hour," she said.
Fraser nodded and reluctantly got up. She stayed where she was, watching him pull his sweater on and reach for his boots.
"What are we?" she asked. "Is there a 'we'?" He looked up at her.
"Yes," he said, giving her a boyish grin. She smiled back.
Diefenbaker barked, something he rarely did, in agreement.
"Wait until Vecchio gets a load of this," Stacy wryly said.
"Ray?" Fraser asked, tying his boots.
"He'll be so shocked, he'll probably faint," she said.