Meg's House …

The Inspector worked until she knew that Fraser and Maggie were gone before she left the post herself. It wasn't unusual for her to work late hours, especially since the attempts on her life had started. The more witnesses, the better she reasoned.

Tonight was different. She didn't want to face Fraser after the fight they'd had walking back to the post. Meg had made a conscious effort to let her guard down with him and he'd been forthcoming. When he turned the tables on her she'd frozen. She wanted so badly to be herself around him. She wanted that moment on top of the train to repeat itself. Meg thought that if it did, she would wedge the moment wider, explore it.

Sitting in front of her dressing table, staring at her reflection, Meg Thatcher didn't like what she saw. The image of a lost, lonely woman greeted her. Gone was the fire and spirit she'd had before going to Iraq. In her early career, Meg had been driven, determined, and prideful. She'd also been cold and lonely. Years spent being strong and proving that she was a woman capable of the job had turned her into a first class bitch.

What she felt stirring for Fraser all those years ago had threatened to break her facade like an egg shell. He was everything she wanted to be; respected, humble, honest and sought after. People took to him naturally, something Meg both loved and hated about him. She wished he only had eyes for her. With so many people clamoring for his attention, his help, she felt lost in the shuffle. The few times he had opened himself up to her, Meg had pushed him away. She wanted all of Benton Fraser or none of him.

"What were you thinking, Meg, what were you thinking?" She asked herself as she washed her make-up off. She felt as raw and naked on the inside as her face was on the outside after applying the make-up remover. Fifteen years was a long time to hold a torch for someone. Meg wondered how she could think he would be interested in her, what with his new family and the time and distance between them.

Looking at Fraser, she felt those feelings as fresh and strong as the last time she'd seen him in the spring of 1998. He hadn't aged he'd simply, and beautifully, matured. Benton still had that quiet magnetism that sucked Meg in and threatened to drown her for lack of air to breathe. His voice, his stance, his clear, green eyes, all served to shatter her equilibrium. She wanted to lose herself in him, to shed her inhibitions, self-doubt and guilt. Meg wanted to flirt with him and have him flirt in return.

"How could he if he didn't feel the attraction?" Meg wondered as she brushed her hair before she nestled into her queen sized bed for the night. "After what I've done, how could he ever feel anything but disgust or maybe pity for me?" She sighed as she turned off the bedside lamp and tried to settle her mind.

The Cabin …

Fraser fixed a quick meal of leftover mackerel patties sandwiches with pork and beans. They hadn't bothered to stop by the general store for groceries, they were too tired.

"Diefenbaker will be here tomorrow." Maggie said as she poured Aurora's dinner into her aluminum dish on the kitchen floor.

"Yes, I'll be glad to see him. It's been too long since he's been anywhere near the wild." Fraser broke off a piece of mackerel patty and dropped it in Aurora's bowl. The she-wolf looked up at him as if to say 'thank you'. The Mountie nodded. Turning back to his task, he saw Maggie give him a reprimanding expression. When he shrugged she sighed, after all, hadn't she done the same thing the night before?

"From what you told me, Ben was excited to go to camp." Maggie set the table, her thick, blonde hair in a low ponytail, free of her Stetson.

"Yes, he is, it's good that he gets to spend time with children his own age outside of school. I'm afraid that Ben doesn't have many friends in Chicago." Fraser laid out the warmed patties on a plate and turned the stove range off.

"I thought he and Francesca's oldest son, Caleb, were friends." Maggie stopped to think of the boy's name.

"They are, in their way. Caleb often gets frustrated with Ben, especially when they're working on something together." Fraser sighed.

"Ben is a perfectionist." Maggie smiled as she sat down at the table.

"Yes, he tends to involve himself in projects, often to the exclusion of all else." Fraser set the mackerel patties on the table and seated himself.

"Reminds me of someone else I know." Fraser looked up from his plate, his brows lifted at his sister's gentle jab. He shook his head, ignoring her.

"Inspector Thatcher seemed obliging, arranging for Ben to go to Mr. Daniels' camp." Maggie edged into the subject she's been dying to hear about since Fraser and Meg had come stomping into the office earlier that day.

"Inspector Thatcher seems to have changed since we last met in Chicago." Fraser began, knowing exactly what his sister was after.

"Oh, how so?" Maggie watched her brother carefully. She knew from Ray Vecchio and her own Ray that he and the Inspector had a history.

"In the past, Inspector Thatcher would have had a dim view of Ben's accompanying me on this assignment. Mr. Daniels mentioned that she also goes camping with the boys from the camp at least once during the summer, that seems uncharacteristic as well. After lunch this afternoon, she purposely took my lunch bill and paid the more costly of the two. When I tried to correct her mistake, she became upset." Fraser stopped eating, losing his taste for it. That woman could puzzle him like no one before or sense. Even Victoria had been easier to understand.

"She is different than I remember her. Constable Hansen told me some things about Thatcher today that surprised me. He said that she's always helping the people of the community. Before we met with Mr. McConaughey, he also warned me that McConaughey could be 'abrasive' is the way he put it, and that he had tried to have Inspector Thatcher removed from command of the post. I don't believe Constable Hansen is the one behind the attempts on her life. He seemed to have a high regard for her." Maggie watched Fraser's reaction.

"She hadn't told me anything to that effect. The Inspector did say that she'd seen ambush tactics like those used this morning during her assignment in Iraq. She wouldn't elaborate." Fraser leaned back against the straight back chair. As if it hadn't been a harrowing enough day.

Maggie hated what crossed her mind but thought she should say it anyway. "Benton, do you think Inspector Thatcher is being completely honest with us? I tend to believe that there's more to this than she's willing to say."

Fraser sighed, he'd thought the same thing. Things weren't as simple as they'd been in Chicago. Meg had been a career officer then as well, but her assignments had been straightforward, nothing covert about them. Fraser knew that if he were to solve the mystery, he'd have to know more about her time in the Middle East. He resolved to find out the next day.

Two-thirty AM …

"Thirty-two Down on the Robert McKenzie" began playing from Fraser's pants pocket as he lay sleeping soundly in his cot. The Mountie lay dreaming of being in a high speed pursuit, Ray Vecchio's Buick Riviera fish tailed as they turned a hard left and began accelerating. Slowly, Fraser came up out of the dream when Ray tried to turn the radio off and it wouldn't quit.

Fumbling, Benton fished his cell phone out of his trousers and answered, wiping sleep from his green eyes.

"Hello?" He growled sleepily, his mind coming back on line enough to hope Ben was safe at the camp.

"Fraser," Meg's voice sounded strained. "I'm sorry to call at this hour, I had to know that you were alright." She took a deep breath, trying not to sound completely insane at two something in the morning.

"Is it Ben?" Maggie's voice sounded sluggish as she leaned her head into the room.

"No, it isn't him." Ben held a hand over the mouth piece and whispered loudly.

"Oh, okay." Maggie could have cared less who it was after that. She knew that if it had been Ray, her phone would have rung. Sleepily, she dragged herself back to her bed and promptly fell back to sleep.

"Maggie and I are fine, Meg. What's going on?" Fraser closed his bedroom door so as not to disturb Maggie.

"I'm sorry, Fraser, I shouldn't have called. I'll see you tomorrow at the post." He could hear her let out a jagged sigh.

"Meg, stop, what's wrong?" He persisted, fully awake now and in his usual state of Meg induced confusion.

"It's stupid, Fraser, really, never mind." From the extra huskiness of her voice Fraser suspected she'd been crying.

"Whatever it is distressed you enough to call and check on Maggie and myself at two-thirty in the morning, tell me, please." Part of him thought that if she were going to disturb him at the butt crack of dawn, she was going to explain herself fully.

"I had a nightmare, okay." She answered defensively.

"I take it that I or Maggie one played a part in it?" Benton persisted, pulling his blanket over his feet.

"Yes, I saw you and young Ben dying in the dessert from an IED explosion. All of the sudden I was back there again." Ben heard her sniff, her voice shaky. "I apologize for waking you and Constable Kowalski, tell her for me, will you?"

"I will, do you want one of us to come by and keep you company?" Fraser offered, he knew he wasn't going to get back to sleep any time soon.

"Thank you kindly, but no." She didn't sound very convincing. Benton didn't know if he should push it or not. They hadn't exactly left things between them settled.

"I don't mind, Inspector." Fraser winced, knowing he should have called her 'Meg'.

"I'm certain you don't, Fraser, but there's no need. I'm fine. Have a good morning, I mean night." She stumbled. He heard a muffled groan, meaning she'd covered the phone's mouth piece.

"Good night, sweet dreams, Meg." Benton wished her, his voice a lower register that would definitely inspire better dreams for her.

"You too, Benton." She responded half a second before he heard the dial tone.

Shaking the cobwebs out of his head, Benton ended the call on his phone and put it back in his trousers pocket. He ran his fingers through his hair. It was too early to get up and he knew he wouldn't get back to sleep so he laid back down and stared out the window for a while.

At Meg's …

The Inspector hung the phone up as soon as she said his name. The way Benton had said 'sweet dreams', surprised her. She felt like a teenage girl for a moment, savoring the sound of his voice as it caressed the single syllable of her name. He could have said the alphabet and she would have weakened in the knees.

Meg lay back in her big bed, remembering the sound of his voice until she fell asleep. It wasn't the first time she'd had that nightmare, but it was the first time Benton had been the star of the horror show. The nightmares had torn her apart for several months after returning home to Canada. One of her saving graces had been living in Spencer Falls, where the tallest building was two stories tall and not metal and steel monstrosities like the ones around the oil plant. Spencer Falls was as far from Iraq as humanly possible.

For the rest of the night Meg dreamed of being back in the Chicago Consulate, Fraser and Turnbull waiting on her hand and foot. They were silly, comforting dreams. Just what the doctor ordered.

Author's Note: Definition IED n. Improvised Explosive Device