Ray hated to watch Maggie leave even knowing that she could be staying in the city for a few days. Her Arctic blue eyes lingered on his still handsome face before she turned to follow Fraser out. Part of him wanted to tell the commissioner where to put his Meth task force and leave the office so he and the lady mountie could grab a burger at the corner restaurant. Ray was too close to retirement to pull such brash stunts. He kicked himself for ever taking Lt. Welsh's job in the first place. With a resigned growl, the new lieutenant sat down and began planning a strategy to curb methamphetamine labs in his district of Chicago.
"So what's the deal with you and that Ray guy, Aunt Maggie tells me you work at the consulate as like a personal assistant or something." Ben asked as he trudged along behind Fraser and Maggie but ahead of Diefenbaker and Aurora. Cars whizzed by on their way to a million different destinations. Some of them were as old as the mounties while others were younger than Ben. Fraser slowed his pace to think for a second.
"Over the years Ray and I have solved a number of cases together," Fraser tried to piece together a more concise answer as he tugged on his uniform jacket.
"How did you and Ray start solving cases is what I'm asking." Unbeknownst to Ben, he'd opened a can of worms by asking. As like her brother as she was, Maggie knew better than to ask an open ended question. Telling the tale of meeting Ray Kowalski took the entire fifteen minute walk to the constable's three story apartment building.
"Wow, it looks like a monk lives here." Ben walked into the small, third floor apartment and dropped his bag beside the door. An old radio sat on a card table by the one and only window in the living room. Dark, navy blue curtains covered the three foot by three foot window. A short, brown loveseat and a high backed, leather arm chair were the only seats available in the living room. An almanac calendar hung on a thumbtack by the front door beneath a framed picture of Fraser's parents. Ben eased over to the picture as Maggie set her backpack down beside the door.
"If you're hungry I could make something." Fraser offered as he looked into the ancient, avocado green refrigerator an equally aged gas stove. The kitchen was small, best suited to one person at a time. Dief's dish sat beside the table, under the window leading out onto the fire escape. Looking at the apartment one got the feeling that it was worn or from a bygone era. Fraser lived alone, using the appliances provided to the apartment. It was far from the primitive cabin his father had left him when he died. As long as everything was in working order the mountie figured it would do just fine.
"I'm not hungry, but Ben may want a snack." Maggie answered, walking in to the kitchen with Aurora's food dish in one hand and a bag of food in the other. She set them down and came to stand beside her half brother as he stared into the fridge.
"So, what do you think?" The petite blonde asked, studying Fraser's reaction.
"I think I will have to go to the grocery this evening before dinner." Fraser closed the green monstrosity's door and began rummaging in the cabinets.
"I didn't mean that and you know it, Benton." Maggie leaned against the stove, her arms crossed over her chest, just the way Fraser stood so often. Closing the cabinet door, he turned to look at her.
"I am completely caught off guard, I never suspected, there was never a reason to suspect Victoria was with child." Fraser looked out the window beyond the fire escape. After so long he had almost forgotten how she felt in his arms. Passion and longing had both grown cold in the transplanted Canadian. No one had managed to revive the embers to their full glory in all those years. Fraser had given up hope that anyone would.
"This could be good for you, Benton, he needs a steady, caring influence and you need someone around besides Diefenbaker to care for." Maggie laid a hand on his shoulder. In the last decade or so they'd known each other Maggie and Fraser had gotten as close as half siblings can become. It took one to know one the best and Robert Fraser's children were two of the same kind.
"I hardly have the skills to raise a teenager, Maggie." He lamented. It was hard enough to keep Diefenbaker in line.
"It doesn't take skills, it takes caring." She argued.