No-tell Motel …
Ray cruised the Riv into the lot and parked where he could look at all the doors. Beside him, Inspector Thatcher tapped her fingers on the door frame as she searched the windows for herself.
"Alright, my informant said the hit-and-run driver was on the second floor somewhere, shouldn't be too hard to find him." Ray began, checking his service revolver and the one he kept in an ankle holster.
"You stay with the car." the detective ordered before swinging the car door open.
"Oh no, I'm coming, end of discussion." Meg protested, chafing at being ordered.
"You don't have jurisdiction, you'll be in my way." Ray argued, pointing toward the car Meg had just stepped out of.
"Ha! In your dreams." the Inspector scoffed, matching Vecchio's long legged pace.
"Where are you going, Detective?" Meg demanded.
"To find the driver, Inspector, where else?" He didn't even cast a glance over his shoulder.
"We should begin with the clerk first, narrow the search." Meg informed him, doubling her pace to get in front of the detective. She heard him growl low in his throat, undoubtedly holding his tongue.
"Ugg, you're as bad as Fraser in your own way." Ray huffed, changing directions quickly. Vecchio ceded.
"I'll take that as a compliment, Vecchio." Meg thought to herself, squashing a smile as she trailed behind him.

Meg's Apartment …
Ben loathed using a dishwasher but found it necessary. Thankfully, there weren't very many dishes to be washed. He stored the leftovers and scraped the dishes before putting them into the machine. The slow cooker, pots and pans he quickly washed by hand. A few minutes later and Ben sat down, his leg propped up again. Dief wandered over, sniffing at Ben's exposed toes. Ben felt the wolf's warm breath and tickling whiskers against the sole of his foot. He resisted the urge to jerk.
"Do you think we should wait up for the Inspector and Ray?" Ben asked the wolf, hoping to distract the animal before he decided to lick his foot. Dief seemed to shrug before turning circles on his dog bed.
"I suppose you're right, they are both highly trained law officers. Though I hope they don't turn on each other." Ben admitted. Dief huffed, almost like a human chuckle.

Meg made it to the hotel lobby's front door first and stood still, arms crossed.
"What?" Ray sneered.
"Well, aren't you going to open the door for a lady?" Meg said, glaring at the American detective.
"When I see one I will." Ray shot back.
"Philistine," Meg sniffed, opening the door for herself.
Inside the lobby, covered in dark, wood paneling and golden rod paint, sat the clerk. He barely looked up from his comic book when the bell over the door chimed.
"Yeah, we're …"
"Thirty-eight fifty for the night or twenty for two hours. Use something beside 'Mr and Mrs Smith' on the register." he shoved the sign-in book toward Ray, still not looking up.
"Hey, just a minute …" Ray started again, trying to dispel the man's misconception.
"Take it or leave it, there's other places around for mattress dancin'. Chica here probably knows a few." the clerk glanced over his glasses, his jowls shaking just a bit.
"How dare you, I am an inspector with the Royal Canadian Mounted Police." Meg burst out, her face reddening with anger.
"Yeah, whatever, fetish slut." the clerk muttered to himself, shifting his considerable girth in the chair behind the counter.
Ray's eyes bugged out as he watched the Inspector lunge over the four foot high counter, hands outstretched and her teeth bared.
"Inspector!" Ray caught her around the waist as the clerk bushed himself backward, out of her grasp. She strained against Ray, out for blood.
"Chicago Police Department, we're looking for a young guy, looks like this." Ray pulled a drawing of the suspect from his pocket as Meg squirmed in his other arm.
"Second floor, room 208." The clerk wisely gave up the answer, his back to the wall, barely out of the Inspector's reach.
"Thanks. Might wanna put the comic book down more often." Ray advised him, glowering. The clerk nodded, mouth agape.

Joshua lay back on the bed, trying not to think about the creepy crawlies housed in the cheap hotel room. The cable television had quit the day before and he didn't have the money to go out. He'd used the money his mother sent him to buy a loaf of bread, peanut butter and a few other, non-perishable staples. He still had nightmares, the police chief knocking on the door, dragging him out of the room, the mayor running over him with a huge, fire breathing Cadillac. Waking up soaked in sweat had become a routine for Joshua.
KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK "Chicago Police Department, open up." A male voice followed the heavy fisted knocking at Joshua's door.
"Oh no!" Joshua panicked. The room only had one window, the one next to the door. He headed toward the bathroom, searching for a place to hide.
"Crap," The shower had a starkly clear shower curtain, nothing to hide behind.
"Come on, let us in, we just wanna talk." The man's voice carried through the small, thin walled hotel room. Joshua heard the door slam against the wall.
"I give up." Josh walked out of the bathroom, hands up, heart praying he'd get to see him mom at least once before he died.
"Nicely done, Detective, the young man is terrified." A sharp faced woman said from behind the guy in a suit, brandishing a handgun.
"What, I ain't laid a finger on him." The guy in a fancy suit said over his shoulder, still holding the gun in Josh's face.
"No, but your finger hasn't moved off the gun's trigger either." the woman pointed out, gesturing.
Grumbling, the man holstered his handgun, eying the woman ominously.
"What's your name?" the man demanded, turning back to Josh.
"Josh," the young man stammered, still tense.
"You drive a red, Ford LTD?"
Josh nodded, confused and feeling like he might either wet his pants or lose his supper.
"This Neanderthal is Detective Ray Vecchio and I'm Inspector Thatcher, RCMP. We have reason to believe you were involved in a hit-and-run, driving a stolen vehicle." The woman explained calmly but with an air of authority.
"RCMP?" Josh asked, knitting his brow, unfamiliar with the term.
"Royal Canadian Mounted Police. One of my officers witnessed the hit-and-run. He pursued you." She continued.
"The guy in the red uniform, big hat?" Josh remembered that day clearly. He'd been driving all night and hadn't seen the Astro van in time.
"Yeah, chased you onto a roof top, fell and busted a leg, nearly died." Ray informed him, hands on his snake hips, a glower in his green eyes.
"I didn't know, I just thought he lost me. Is he okay?" Josh asked, feeling even sicker to his stomach. He'd never wanted anyone to get hurt.
"It's a little late to be asking, don't you think?" the detective snorted, rolling his eyes.
"You're under arrest for hit-and-run and auto theft." Ray pulled his handcuffs from the case at the small of his back and stepped toward the young man.
"And don't forget evading a police officer." Thatcher added.
"Mounties don't count." Ray said, daring her to argue.
"An officer of the law is an officer of the law, regardless, Detective." Thatcher glared up at him, meeting the challenge.
"Fraser was out of his jurisdiction, doesn't count." Ray came right back at her.
That started a bickering session that Josh couldn't quite follow. He stood in the middle of the hotel room utterly confused.
"Uh, Detective," Josh began.
"What!" Ray barked before he thought.
"Police procedure says you should call for a uniformed unit to transport me to jail." Josh offered, melting under the intense gaze of the two officers.
"Yeah, I guess." Ray pulled out his cell phone and began dialing.

Meg's Apartment …
Ben sat on the couch, his leg elevated on the arm. A lamp behind him gave enough light to read by. He'd found a copy of Bury My Heart At Wounded Knee by Dee Brown on Meg's bookshelf and decided to determine what she saw in the book. It wasn't about Inuit culture but the Mountie enjoyed it anyway.
Somewhere around two in the morning, Ben heard the key in the door and laid the book aside. Meg had returned safely. Relieved, he folded the lap throw he'd pulled from the back of the sofa and waited.
Dief raised his head when he noticed his human moving. He faintly smelled the alpha female and his human's friend; no big deal. Neither of them brought sweets when his human was around.
"Well, I believe him." Meg's voice declared as the door swung open. She threw her keys into her purse and hung it on a nearby kitchen chair.
"And I say he's hidin' somethin', no one's that clean." Ray argued, not even looking at Fraser.
"I disagree," the Inspector countered, sliding out of her shoes and jacket.
"Name one." Ray snorted in derision.
"Constable Fraser, Constable Turnbull, and myself all have clean records." Meg walked into the kitchen and pulled a bottled water from the refrigerator.
"Name an American," Ray persisted.
"How did the search go, Ray?" Fraser asked when he and the Inspector came back into the living room. He missed bickering with Ray.
"We found him, Fraser, gave up." Ray answered, chest swelling.
"Only because he thought you were going to shoot him." Meg added with a raised brow.
"Better I shoot him than you talk him to death." Ray turned around, glaring at the woman.
Meg didn't back down or move a centimeter. Instead she glared back at him, her lips pursed as she contemplated verbally shredding the detective.
"Benny, you taken your meds?" Ray turned to his friend.
Ben's eyes danced with amusement but he stifled a smile. Ray sensed danger and foiled the Inspector. She couldn't argue with him if he was asking about her Mountie.
"Yes, Ray, I have, precisely at eight PM." Ben answered informationally.
"It's late, I still have to report to work tomorrow." Meg stated.
"Yeah, okay. Come down to the station tomorrow and sign the paperwork." Ray reminded the Inspector as he opened the door to let himself out.
"You mean later today, Detective." Meg corrected him – for spite.
"Yeah, whatever." Ray muttered as he shook his head before closing the door.
Meg turned to Fraser, who'd sat watching the whole exchange in amusement. He didn't sense any malice between his friend and his boss, thankfully. He didn't relish being monkey in the middle of them.
"It's time for bed, Benton. Do you need any assistance?" Meg asked, her tone softening.
"Would you be so kind as to turn on the light for me, it's difficult with these infernal crutches."
"Gladly." Margaret smiled at him as she walked toward the hall leading to the bedrooms. She flipped on the switch to her spare bedroom and stepped aside for Benton to step through.
Ben stopped in front of her, inches barely separating them. He gazed into the depths of her brown eyes. She smelled wonderful and he noticed how her eyes seemed droopy.
"Blast this broken leg, I could take her to bed this minute." He thought silently.
"What?" Meg said, looking up at him, an innocent expression on her face.
"You are exquisite." He softly said, his finger touching her cheek. Meg only smiled and shrugged.
"Did I make you uncomfortable?" Ben asked when he saw her cheeks pinken.
"No, it's just that you've never complimented me so openly before. There's no bomb, no speeding train or semaphore." She shrugged again, this time meeting his eye.
"I've wanted to." Ben admitted.
"Oh?" Meg prompted, her expression coy as she leaned against the bedroom door. Without her heels she had to look up at Benton.
"Your hair, your eyes, the way you smell so good, those lips," He ran his thumb across her bottom lip a moment before leaning down and placing a soft kiss there.
Meg let out a contented sigh after he pulled away, her eyes closed. Ben studied her for a minute, memorizing her. He'd rarely seen her happy and relaxed. Without asking, he knew their hearts once again beat the same – runaways.
"Kiss me again, please." Meg whispered, eyes still closed.
Ben quietly chuckled as he leaned in for another kiss. This time Meg's arms slid up around his neck. She let him lead the way, ceding her mouth to his exploration. Halfway through she sighed again.
"I take it you're pleased then." Ben said as he leaned his forehead against hers.
"Yes, very pleased." Meg finally opened her eyes. Timidly, she stroked the sunburnt half of his face. Most of the dead skin had peeled away, leaving soft, new skin. She felt a bit of stubble along his jawbone. For a moment she wondered what Ben would look like with a neatly trimmed beard.
"We should get to bed, it's quite late." Ben whispered, rocking slightly on his crutches.
"My bed is bigger." Meg offered with a teasing grin.
"Mmm, yes, that would be more comfortable, wouldn't it." Ben grinned back at her.
With a little maneuvering, Ben and Meg made it to her bed. He threw back the covers as she changed in the walk in closet. She stepped out wearing a spaghetti strapped top and loose, red pajama pants. To Ben, she couldn't have looked better if she wore a silk negligee.
Meg switched off the light and slipped into bed beside Ben, laying on her side facing him.
"Sleep well, Ben." she said as she laid her hand on his chest.
"You too, Meg." he said with a kiss to her palm.
"I love you," she mouthed in the darkness.

Yeah, pretty much a useless, mushy scene. I couldn't help myself. ~