Weakness
by Tanya Reed
Here is the end of it. I hope you liked it.
Disclaimer: I still don't own Due South.
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Meg awoke the next morning to the feel of weak sunshine on her face. Usually, she slept late when she didn't have to go to work and kept the curtains closed to aid in that project. Being in Fraser's home, she did not feel it was up to her to decide one way or another, so they stayed open.
She tried to deny the shaft of light that hurt her eyes even through her eyelids. When that didn't work, she rolled over and covered her head with the pillow. Her eyes had caught a glimpse of her clock radio, now the dominant feature of Fraser's bedside stand. 6 am. Nearby, she heard Fraser stir on his bedroll. A smile spread over her face as she imagined him lying there. It was tempting to uncover her head just for the sight of him in his red longjohns.
"Good morning, Diefenbaker," came his voice, clear and unslurred despite the fact that he just woke up. "Good morning, Meg."
"It's still night, Fraser," she mumbled through the pillow.
"Nonsense, the sun is coming up."
She groaned as he started to whistle. Her ears also picked up the sound of him rolling his bedroll. She peeked out as he went to the dresser and finally got her view of him in his night attire.
Ben turned his head and caught her looking. "You might as well get up, now that you are awake."
"Just another hour?"
"We have a very important meeting this morning. We must be prepared."
This was true. Slowly, she took the pillow off of her head and blinked in the new sunlight. She took in the treat of Ben bent over to look in the bottom drawer. That in itself was almost worth waking up at six in the morning.
"Wear your blue shirt," she found herself blurting.
"Huh?" He turned, surprise on his face.
"I like it," Meg admitted, suddenly feeling shy.
"Okay."
Meg watched him a few moments more then got out of bed. Diefenbaker immediately jumped on it and curled up with his head on her pillow. "What are you, lazy or something?" she
grumbled good naturedly, but the wolf ignored her.
Ben shook his head. "City life is making him soft, I must apologize."
"Oh, let him sleep. What would you like for breakfast?"
The look he gave her was so adorable, she wanted to ruffle his hair. After her admission to being a bad cook, he had cheerfully prepared all of their meals and she had done the dishes.
"Don't look at me like that. I can do eggs. And most cereal."
The look turned into a grin, dimpling his cheeks and making Meg chuckle.
"Eggs, please."
"You got it...Ben. Now, you go get dressed, and I'll make you some edible, if not incredible, eggs."
"Yes, ma'am." She was going to correct this slip when she noticed the twinkle in his eyes.
Instead, she just shook her head and pointed to the apartment door.
She decided not to get dressed while Ben was in the bathroom. She liked puttering around his apartment barefoot and in her nightdress. It made her feel at home. In fact, she was so comfortable in his apartment, she was tempted to unnecessarily extend her apartment search.
Meg started humming as she broke the eggs over the frying pan. Her grandfather had loved scrambled eggs and every morning, when she was visiting, she watched her grandmother make them for him.
Ben came back a few minutes later, looking freshly scrubbed and boyish in his blue shirt. She grinned at him. "Look, they're coming along nicely."
He came up behind her and peeked over her shoulder. "Well done, Meg."
"Thank you." She turned around quickly, causing him to step back.
"Oh, I wanted to show you something."
He looked at her curiously, so she pulled at the bottom of her nightdress. A startled, "Meg!" escaped Ben as she pulled it up to just below her breasts. She ignored his momentary discomfort, announcing, "It's getting better."
The surprise drained form his face, and he bent to study the skin of her stomach. Gently, he reached out a finger to trace the bruise. The sensation was tickling, and Meg fought the impulse to wriggle.
"You're right. It's getting lighter."
"Pretty soon I'll be as good as new." She dropped the fabric back into place and went back to her eggs.
Something was stirring in Meg. She didn't know why or how, she just knew that it was there. It was like the sparkle on a rose in the morning or like a baby standing for the first time. It tingled through her, making her want to sing and laugh. She hadn't experienced it for so long that she almost didn't recognize it, and the fact that it resurfaced now in one of the worst points in her career was nothing less than amazing. It was joy. Something about the act of making Benton Fraser breakfast was giving her joy. In that moment, the torment the memory of Burrell brought faded. The memory was still there, clear and sharp, but it no longer had teeth to bite. Joy wiped away the pain.
Meg turned from the eggs, after shutting off the burner, to see Ben back to, setting the table. She watched him for a moment before letting her new found sense of joy propel her forward.
He jumped at the feel of her arms around him. Wrapping her arms even tighter at his startlement, she buried her face in his back, taking a deep breath. He smelled like nothing else she had ever known.
"Meg?"
"Did I ever thank you for trying to protect me? For opening your home to me? Not many people would have cared that someone beat up their bitchy boss..."
"You're not a..."
"...and even fewer would give up their beds for her. Thank you, Ben."
Softly, he replied, "Did I ever say I'm sorry? I took a vow to protect you as my senior officer and as my...my friend. I broke that vow when I allowed that man to lay rough hands on you. I should have been able to stop him. I'd do anything to turn back time and stop him. I'm sorry, Meg."
She loosened her hold and firmly turned him around. Looking into his eyes, she said, "You told me that this wasn't my fault, now I'm telling you the same thing. The one at fault here is Glen."
For the first time, saying his name didn't make her voice shake. "He hurt me, for no more reason than he wanted to lash out and hurt someone. His desire to bring me pain is the only thing to blame."
She lifted her left hand and trailed it slowly down his face. His expression lightened, and the sad look left his eyes.
"You are just about the sweetest man in the world, Benton Fraser."
Any comment he would have made was cut off by a knock on the door. A thrill went through Meg as Ben bent down and gently kissed her cheek before going to answer it. Her fingers went to the place that seemed to tingle from that soft caress, and she knew she must have a goofy grin on her face.
"Morning, Benny, Inspector," Ray said, coming in.
"Meg," she corrected.
"Huh?"
"I am no longer an Inspector, Ray. I've been suspended."
This stopped him short and the grin dropped from his face. "What?"
"Yesterday, before we called you about the Armstrong woman. Now, sit down and have some eggs."
Ray hesitated, looking perplexed. "Why were you suspended?"
"We were both suspended, Ray," Ben offered, sitting at the table.
Meg put some eggs in his plate, then in her own and the one she grabbed out of the cupboard for their friend. She then sat down and looked pointedly at Ray until he did too.
"We were suspended," Meg finally answered his question, "Because the RCMP, and Henri Cloutier in particular, frowns on anyone who makes waves. Fraser has charges pending against him, and I am pressing assault charges."
"But you were the victim."
Meg raised burning brown eyes to his green ones. "And your point is?"
"That's like punishing you for being hurt."
"Yes, I know."
"I suppose," Meg was surprised by the sudden venom in his voice, "that they'd rather you swept it all under the rug and pretended it never happened. Just to save their reputation, they'd let a criminal go free."
"That's the gist of it, Ray," Ben admitted, after chewing and swallowing. "These are very good, Meg."
"Thanks, Ben."
"That sucks." Then Ray blinked. "Meg? Ben?"
"Well," Meg said, just a tad defensively, "We can no longer use Constable and Inspector."
A grin came to his face again and a twinkle to his eyes. "Of course not. Oh, and, hey, if you need someone to tow your boss's car out of an 'illegal' zone, or something like that, just let me know."
"Ray!" Fraser looked shocked, but Meg grinned back.
"You got it."
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Around nine o'clock, there was another knock on the apartment door. Meg and Ray were playing cards at the kitchen table--quite loudly--and Ben was watching in amusement. The two of them seemed to be enjoying themselves, their former tension almost nonexistent.
At the knock, the two of them swept up the cards, making them into a deck, while Ben went to answer the door. He opened it to see a young woman, probably in her late twenties, with dark hair and a shy smile.
"Good morning, ma'am."
"Um...do I have the right place?" She had a soft, pleasant voice. "I'm looking for Margaret Thatcher."
"Yes, please come in."
As she entered, Meg came forward, giving the nervous woman a smile. "Hi. I'm Meg Thatcher. This is my...my..." She trailed off, raising her eyebrows questioningly to Ben.
"I'm her friend, Benton Fraser. And this is Detective Ray Vecchio from the Chicago Police Department."
Ben looked to Ray, finding that the detective's eyes had widened and a silly grin was planted on his face. He came forward and shook her hand enthusiastically.
"Hi, how are you? Miss Armstrong, is it?" She nodded. "I'm the detective working on Meg's case. Please sit down here at the table."
Miss Armstrong glanced at Meg, who nodded encouragement, so she followed Ray to the table.
"She looks scared to death," Meg murmured.
"But determined," Ben added. He had seen a hint of steel behind the timidity in Miss Armstrong's dark eyes. Then, raising his voice, "May I offer you some refreshments, Miss Armstrong?"
"Janesta, please. Um...May I have some water?"
"Certainly."
As Meg joined the two at the table, Ben rushed to get their guest some water. She sat in her chair, staring at the tabletop, her finger rubbing at some spot only she could see.
"Is it all right if Ray stays, Miss...Janesta?" Meg asked, causing her to look up.
"Yes, it's okay." She glanced at Ray. "He seems nice."
"He is," Ben assured her, placing the glass on the table.
"Thank you, Mr. Fraser."
He nodded politely and took the last chair. Silence descended as all four waited expectantly.
Eventually, Meg placed her hand on Janesta's arm.
"You wanted to help?"
"Yes. I was scared before. I'm not anymore." She looked fiercely into the other three pairs of eyes, her mild brown ones giving way to a spark of anger. "Just because he's rich doesn't give him the right to do whatever he wants." Her jaw tightened. "It doesn't give him the right to hurt people."
Meg's voice was soft as she asked, "Did he hurt you, Janesta?"
"I was flattered, you know? A rich guy taking the time to pay attention to me. And he treated me real good, just like a lady. I'm used to men who just want one thing. It was nice." She ran a hand over her forehead as if to erase memories. "Then one night, he just got mean. I begged him to stop, but he just kept...hitting me. I looked into his eyes, and it was like he never even heard me--like there was nothing there." She looked down at her hands. "When Lori--that's my daughter--saw me the next day, she started to cry. I cried too, and I wanted to...to lash out. Mom convinced me that I'd probably be the one to get hurt, so I pretended it never happened. That was a little over a year ago."
Ben felt anger wash over him again at this simply told story. His mind had been so focused on Meg's pain that he didn't stop to think of all the others that must have come before her. He ached for them. His anger quickly turned to surprise when Meg leaned over to clasp the woman in a hug. Not normally a physical person, it was the second hug he had witnessed her giving that day. Janesta looked as startled as Ben felt, but she returned the hug.
"Would you be willing to testify to this?" Ray asked.
"Yes, if it will help. I kinda feel responsible for what happened with..."
"Meg," Meg supplied.
"Yes, Meg. Maybe his money won't get him out if there's two of us."
"Would you come with me and make a statement?"
"I guess so. If that's what you need me to do."
"That's the next step."
Meg added, "We're going to get him, Janesta. You and I are going to make him pay for hurting us."
"And maybe I won't feel so weak anymore."
Meg stood, squeezing the young woman's shoulder before whispering, "You and me both."
Ben heard the words intended for Janesta's ears alone and winced inside. He wanted so badly to show Meg the strength he saw in her. If it would have worked, he would have done just about anything to make it so. The sad thing was that no one could make Meg believe in her strength but Meg.
Ray, seemingly oblivious to the thoughts of the others, got up and reached for his jacket. "Well, let's get at it. Ready, Miss Armstrong?"
"As ready as I'll ever be detective." She stood up, tucking a dark strand behind her ear. "I'm sorry this happened to you, Meg."
"Me too. Thank you so much for coming forward."
A sunshiny smile that turned her pretty face to beautiful went over her features.
"Thank you for being so nice to me."
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Meg watched Ray and Janesta from the window as they got into Ray's car. Ben was standing beside her, so close that she could almost feel his skin against hers. It was a pleasant distraction, and one she refused to pull away from as she would have when she was his boss. In fact, she almost gave into the temptation to lean slightly to the right, closing the gap.
"Ray will care for her," Ben said, misinterpreting Meg's pensive look.
"Yes, I know." She turned to him. "He's a good friend. I'm glad I had the opportunity to know him better."
"He has done a lot for me. He's what makes Chicago seem almost like home."
Meg smiled, thinking that without Ray, Ben might not have been here when she arrived. The thought of Chicago without Ben was almost unbearable.
He returned her smile, a soft one that didn't quite dimple his cheeks. It made warmth go through her, knowing that he smiled for her alone.
"You should smile more," she told him gently.
"Likewise, ma'am."
Impulsively, she reached out and took his hand, leading him away from the window. A part of her was afraid he'd repulse the action and snatch his hand away. Instead, his fingers gently squeezed hers. Meg's newfound sense of freedom made her even more bold, and she surprised him by suddenly leaning her body against his.
"So," She searched her mind for the appropriate American word. Oh, yes. "Roomie, what do you want to do today? It seems as if we are on forced vacation."
Ben's eyes widened and he looked as if he wanted to pull at his collar. Without serge, which had been between them the last time they were this close, Meg's awareness of Ben's body tripled. She could feel his muscles move as he shifted, and heat seemed to invade her senses. His body was lean and hard from his day to day activities with Ray. Meg quietly breathed in his scent, still reminiscent of Needsfoot Oil despite his absent Sam Browne.
Ben cleared his throat. "Uh...What would you like to do?"
She was again pleased that he did not pull away. "I don't know. Something having absolutely nothing to do with the legal system. I mean, we've been given a lot to think about. With Janesta's testimony to back me up, Glen could actually get jail time, and Ray told me about the sheer volume of character witnesses willing to stand up for you. Coupled with my testimony, you have a chance of coming out of this virtually unscathed. This is all good news, but I'd like one day--just one day--to forget we're accused and accuser and do something uncharacteristic and fun. Does that make sense?"
"Actually, it does. How would you like to take a long walk in the park?"
She frowned. "That's not out of character--at least for you."
"You're right," he agreed," but I'd still like to take a walk in the park with you."
The look on his face melted her, and she bet he knew that it would. "All right, but then can we do something wild and spontaneous?"
"Like this?" he asked, humor in his voice and twinkling from his normally shuttered eyes.
Puzzled, she was going to ask him what he meant when her hand suddenly felt forsaken. His fingers slipped from hers, but before she could protest, Meg was suddenly encircled in his arms. Unexpected sensations caused her to gasp.
Still shocked, she blurted, "Benton Fraser, are you trying to seduce me?"
His laugh made Meg's toes tingle. She didn't think she had ever heard a more wonderful sound. Her own arms went instantly around him and she was hugging him as if he were a large teddy bear.
"Seduce away, just promise me that I'll hear that laugh for the rest of my life."
The stillness that stole over the body in her arms made Meg aware that she might have said something wrong. Quickly, she ran her comment through her mind and realized what she had intimated. They had just become friends, openly at least, and already it seemed that she was trying to go even farther. Though that possibility was something Meg was beginning to understand she wanted, she did not want to push Ben towards something he might never be ready for.
Meg pulled away slightly, intending to apologize. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean..." Something in his eyes made her words stop.
"Once more your heart beats the same as mine," he whispered, leaning forward to brush his smooth cheek against hers.
She forgot how to breathe. Oh, she knew that it had something to do with lungs and air, but suddenly how to get one in and out of the other was beyond her. A tremble went through her, and Meg closed her eyes as Ben's lips brushed against her cheekbone.
"No more bruises here."
Meg's ability to think was quickly going the way of her knowledge on how to breathe.
"Only tenderness," he continued, nipping her nose and finally coming to rest against her lips.
A joyous burst like nothing she had ever known shot through Meg at that gentle touch. She wanted to grab him, prolong the kiss until her body sank into his, but it was already over. He was pulling away. Her body screamed in agony and anguish, protesting the loss of him.
To show her she wasn't being abandoned, Ben picked up her hand again. He caressed it with a thumb before speaking.
"Shall we go for that walk? I'm looking forward to the wild spontaneity that will follow."
Meg blushed as she found herself doing so very often around this man. She nodded, not speaking, and the three of them--for Diefenbaker followed behind--went out the door. It hit her then, knowledge that was comforting and made the trial ahead seem unimportant. She was in love with Benton Fraser. She loved his eyes, his lips, his hair; his heart, his soul, his occasional ramblings. Everything that made him who he was. And now she had proof that he cared for her as well. What did anything else matter compared to that? Whatever happened, would happen, but she was not afraid. Whatever happened, they would face it together.
THE END