The Land of Milk and Cheese …
AKA: Wisconsin …
Without any proof, Ray couldn't take Joshua's case to the FBI if he'd wanted to. It was the young man's word against the mayor and his cronies. Ray hated to admit it, but they'd have to take the case on the road. He hoped that Fraser could work his magic despite being temporarily handicapped.
Not if he could just ditch the Inspector. And maybe the wolf.
"Lieutenant Welsh, may I have a moment?" Ray asked with uncharacteristic manners. He wanted Welsh's blessing to leave, hopefully with pay.
"Yeah, Vecchio, what is it?" Welsh laid aside his reading glasses and leaned back in his desk chair.
"I'd like leave to go to Wisconsin, Sir." Ray laid it out plainly.
"Oh?" Welsh said with a raised eyebrow. Working with the Mountie, he'd heard the detective ask for some strange things.
"Yes, Sir, it's the hit-and-run case. You see, the suspect, Joshua Reitman, claims to be a witness to another hit-and-run, this one involving his hometown's mayor and an an old lady. It seems that …"
"This involves the Mountie, right?" Welsh interjected, sitting up straight.
"Ah, yes, Sir, it does." Ray nodded.
"Go, and leave me OUT of the loop. You understand?" Welsh pointed one stubby finger at the detective.
"Yes, Sir, understood." Ray flashed a quick grin before turning to leave.

Dinner …
"Ray, you can't go alone." Ben stated as he looked his best friend and unofficial partner in the eye.
"You won't have back-up without us, Detective." Meg added quickly. Despite her dislike of Vecchio, he'd always backed-up Benton. For him, Meg would do, or tolerate, anything – even Vecchio.
"Oh yeah, 'cause Mounties have more jurisdiction in Wisconsin." Ray quipped. He shoved away a plate of roasted chicken breast and steamed veggies.
"Of course not, Ray. The RCMP only has jurisdiction in Canada." Fraser expounded.
"We're going, Detective." Meg stated. For a long moment, Ray and Meg glared at each other. Ben wondered who would flinch first.
The doorbell chimed, breaking the tension. Meg opened the door, surprised to see Mrs. Reitman on the other side.
"Inspector Thatcher?" the woman asked uncertainly.
"Yes, come in." Meg stepped back to allow the woman inside.
"Mrs. Reitman, what's wrong?" Ben took one look at her pinched face and wringing hands.
"One of my neighbors called, my house burnt down last night. My dog, Lucky, died."
"I'm terribly sorry, Mrs. Reitman. Please, have a seat." Ben let his casted leg down to offer her a kitchen chair.
"Thank you. I didn't mean to barge in, but I didn't know what else to do." She sat slumped in the straight back chair.
"Sounds like a warning." Ray intoned ominously, his fist clenched tightly around his fork.
"Why, Ray?" Ben pondered aloud.
"Someone knows I came here to help Josh. They want me and him to stay quiet about the hit-and-run." Mrs. Reitman wrung her hands harder, turning them red.
"They took a big chance, someone else coulda gotten hurt of killed." Ray shook his head in disgust.
"We will get to the bottom of this, Mrs. Reitman." Meg assured the worried woman.
The three investigators talked with Mrs. Reitman for a while, asking about who she'd told her plans to, if she'd received any strange calls since Joshua ran, etc,.
Ray graciously offered to let her stay in the Vecchio's guest room. Tony, Maria and the kids had gone to Florida to visit relatives, leaving the house quiet.
Around eight, Ray and Mrs. Reitman left for the evening. Meg felt glad to see them go. She wanted an evening alone with Ben.
"What do you want to do? Meg asked casually. She curled up at the end of the couch next to where Ben sat in the recliner. He looked up at her from an old National Geographic magazine, an innocent, puzzled, look on his face.
"Do what, Margaret?" he swallowed hard before asking.
"To pass the time. It's early yet. We could play cards or watch a movie – anything." She purred the last word. Did he not know she wanted him, after they'd been sharing a bed for days?
"Anything?" he repeated, swiping at his eyebrow with that thumbnail.
Meg knew she'd pushed too hard. Ben didn't respond well to overt flirting and sexuality. She'd seen him blush and ramble when met with female advances.
"No wonder he hurts himself every time I enter his office." Meg mused silently, "He never knows what he'll encounter."
"Maybe you'd like to rest. Vecchio will be here early in the morning." She backed off, giving Ben a way out if he chose.
"Yes, rest would be good." Ben almost sagged in relief. Part of Meg felt disappointed. She'd had high hopes.
Meg turned down the bed for Ben and made sure he elevated his leg.
"I'll take Diefenbaker for a walk, it's early yet." Meg felt his frown more than saw it as he watched her leave.
Meg grabbed the least and opened the front door. The wolf-dog trotted out happily. At least someone's hopes had been fulfilled. Sighing, she followed.

Meg walked down the sidewalk, holding the leas as a formality. Most people in the neighborhood had already met Dief.
"What am I doing?" she asked herself. She remembered how easily they'd talked during the rescue and at the hospital. "What happened?" she wondered.
Dief stopped at a bus stop, waiting for Meg to catch up.
"What, I have a shorter stride than Fraser." she groused. The wolf turned his head away, unimpressed.
"I have things on my mind." she argued. When she realized she'd just talked aloud to a deaf wolf, Meg fumed at herself.
"Come on, let's go home." she grumbled.
"What's wrong with wanting to go farther? It's not like hes never had sex. I've read the Metcalf File, they didn't spend three days in that apartment playing canasta."
Dief growled menacingly in his throat at the mention of Victoria Metcalf. Meg didn't blame him.
"I'm not trying to take anything from Ben. We both have a lot to lose; our careers, his friends. This isn't something I do lightly." The more Meg talked, the sadder she felt. By the time she unlocked the apartment door she felt like giving up.
"Margaret?" Ben called from the bedroom.
"Yes, Ben. Dief and I are back." Meg pulled herself together before walking back through the apartment.
When she walked into the bedroom she saw Ben leaning against the headboard, reading Cyrano De Bergerac. He looked up at her, a quick smile flitting across his face.
"Did you have a good walk?" Ben asked, adjusting his bookmark.
"A thrill a second." Meg answered sarcastically. She picked out her pajamas and stalked off toward the bathroom. A few minutes later she crawled into bed beside Ben and pulled the covers over herself. She lay with her back to him.
"Are you certain everything is alright?" Ben asked as Meg switched off the lights.
"Fine, Ben, fine." Her voice came out stern.
"Understood."
Silence fell between them for a time – until Ben spoke again.
"All you have to do is ask, Margaret."
She could almost see him run his thumbnail over his eyebrow.
"Benton," Meg began.
"Otherwise I may not know what you want."
Meg sighed, turning over to her back.
"As you know, my relationship experience is somewhat, well, actually …"
"Benton," she interrupted.
"Yes, Margaret."
"Shut up and kiss me, please." Meg turned on over to face him.
"Gladly, Margaret." They met halfway, kissing tentatively in the dark.
"Thank you, Ben." she said softly.
"You're most welcome." he answered.
"Ben,"
"Hmmm?"
"I feel silly asking," Meg pulled away a bit.
"You have but to ask." Ben reminded her gently.
"Make love to me." She spoke barely above a whisper.
"Gladly," Ben pulled her closer, nuzzling her neck.
*****