Ray's GTO …. The Next Day ….
"Hey, Frase, how do you pronounce the capital of Kentucky, Louis-ville or Loui-ville?" Ray asked, a devilish twinkle in his light blue eyes. He sat eating a Philly cheese steak with French onions and dill pickles as they watched an informant slide into a car with a known pimp suspected of human trafficking.
"I believe most people pronounce the capital city of Kentucky as Frankfort, Ray." Fraser peered through the window intently, trying to read the suspect's lips. He scribbled down the conversation on a small note pad.
"You're no fun, anyone ever tell you that, Fraser?" Ray slurped his large, chocolate milkshake.
"Yes, frequently, Ray." The Mountie responded, leaning even closer to the windshield. "That is a rather old joke, my grandmother told it to me as a child when we lived in Shepherd's Crook." The detective just rolled his eyes as he mopped his mouth with a couple paper napkins.
"How are things between you and the, uh, the 'Iron Maiden' these days?" Ray popped a pickle into his mouth that had fallen onto his t-shirt.
"Is he saying 'shrimp' or 'limp'?" Fraser said softly to himself as he tried to concentrate on the conversation going on over a hundred yards away.
"Hey, Fraser, how are things with Thatcher?" Ray wagged his fingers in front of the spy glass Fraser used.
"Inspector Thatcher has decided to undergo in vitro fertilization." Fraser answered, pushing Ray's hand out of his line of sight. The blond detective began choking on his sandwich.
"Thatcher's gonna have a, whatcha call it, a test tube baby?" He said after taking a drink of his milkshake and clearing his airway.
"That is one term for it." Fraser went back to concentrating on the conversation between the suspect and the pimp.
"So, one day she just up and decides, hey, I'm gonna get preggers?" Ray shook his head. "Why doesn't she do it the old fashioned way?"
"There are a myriad of reasons for Inspector Thatcher to choose IVF." Fraser felt a sinking feeling beginning to settle in the pit of her stomach as they talked.
"It's kinda creepy when you get to thinkin' about it, I mean they take a woman's egg and a guy's sperm and do whatever freaky voodoo they do, and put it back in the chick. The whole thing gives me the shivers." Ray shook his head and wiggled his shoulders.
"Not all women are capable of having children by conventional methods, Ray, without IVF they would be barren." Ben looked at his friend as the pimp slid out of the decked out Monte Carlo and began walking down the street to their rendezvous point. Ray fired the GTO up, setting his sandwich off to one side of the dashboard.
"Hold on, Ray, the suspect just answered their cellular phone." Fraser kept scribbling onto the notebook. The blond detective shut the engine off again, trying to figure out how his Mountie friend saw anything at all from this distance.
"So, what's your opinion on Thatcher doin' this thing, don't you got some kind of warm fuzzies for her?" Ray asked, his mind switching back to their conversation.
"I respect her decision, it isn't an easy task she's chosen to undertake, but I'm certain she's up to the challenge." Ben gave his friend a vague answer. He wasn't entirely sure how he felt about it. Part of him agreed with Ray, why couldn't she have a child the old fashioned way? A small part of the Mountie wished she'd never have set him straight when they'd had the adoption misunderstanding. For the briefest of moments he'd thought she'd cast aside the walls that separated them all too often. It was like a shaft of light in a coal mine, and then it was gone.
"Come on, Fraser, admit it, it kinda pisses you off." Ray pestered, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel as he watched his friend's reaction.
"No, Ray, there's nothing to be angry with Inspector Thatcher about, I wish her the best of luck." Ben said honestly. It didn't make him angry, it made him sad. Ray wasn't convinced, he saw the way the Mountie looked at the Ice Queen when she wasn't looking. He had a yen for her, even if he didn't know it, or admit it.
"There goes the suspect, Ray." Fraser pointed toward the chrome wheeled car shining in the afternoon sun.
The Consulate ….
Meg sat at her desk trying to make herself eat a stalk of celery she'd brought to go with tomato soup. No matter how she tried, she'd never liked celery. Cinnamon rolls were tasty though, especially with cream cheese icing.
The lady Mountie gladly put the celery away when the phone rang.
"Inspector Thatcher here." She answered quickly.
"Hey, Nut Meg, how's my girl?" Clara Thatcher's voice rang down the line as she talked to her only daughter.
"Hi, Mom, I'm fine, how are you and Daddy?" Meg's heart paused a second hoping nothing had happened to her parents.
"Ah, we're fine, I hope I'm not interrupting, I just got back from Marlene's house, her grand kids were running around the yard so I left early, seeing them made me think of my girl, so I called you up." It wasn't unusual for Meg's mother to call her up randomly, thankfully, she didn't make a habit out of it.
"No, I'm just eating lunch right now. I do have some news though." Meg steeled herself for her mother's reaction. "I'm going to a have in vitro fertilization, I'm trying to get pregnant." She heard a gasp on the other end of the line.
"Margaret Anne Thatcher, whatever for?" It was a bad thing when Meg's mother used her full name.
"I want to start a family, Mom, I want a child of my own." Meg's voice came out softly, trying to persuade her mother.
"Raising a child without a father, Meg you'll regret it in the long run." Clara Thatcher's voice was stern.
"I'll still be looking, Mom, I just don't want to wait any longer to have a child, if I find the right guy he'll still love me and the baby." Meg reasoned. "Besides, you practically raised me by yourself, I didn't turn out too badly."
"You have to think of what's right for the child above all else, Meg, and a child needs a father, your father spent a lot of time away with the Force, but he was still influential in your life, otherwise you wouldn't have joined the RCMP just like him." Clara Thatcher said calmly but firmly.
"Mom, I know, but I just want a baby of my own so badly." Meg sighed, wishing her mother were more supportive.
"I know, Baby, I wish I could be happy about this for you. I want to see you happy, but I also want what's best for you, sometimes those two things aren't the same." Meg could hear her mother's worry through the phone, her love and concern as well.
"It's something I feel like I have to do." Meg said calmly, her voice free of the tears blurring her vision as she talked.
"I love you, Meg, call me sometime, we'll have a good heart to heart." There was a weakness about the older Thatcher's voice that Meg couldn't miss.
"I love you too, Mom, I'll talk to you later." Meg hung up the phone sadly. She let fished around in her desk drawer for a pack of tissues to dry her eyes before either of her subordinate officers came back from lunch.
"Yes, Diefenbaker, that was summer sausage, but that's not why they call it that." Fraser's voice rolled up the hall and through the open doors of Meg's office. She tossed the last of her tissues in the trash can before he could pass her door.
"Oh, Inspector Thatcher," The Mountie paused just outside her door, torn between going in and continuing toward his office.
"Constable Fraser." Meg nodded then went back to her soup. From the redness of her eyes and the added huskiness to her voice, the Mountie knew something was wrong.
"Be more of a friend to her." He reminded himself silently. Ben stepped through the door and into her office.
"May I sit for a moment, Sir?" Fraser asked, trying to calm himself. She looked up at him, anxiety clouding her brown eyes.
"Yes, if you wish." Thatcher answered, her spine stiffening. Fraser took a seat in a chair across the desk from her, his gaze sweeping her face then moving on to her lunch still sitting on her desk.
"Is anything the matter, your eyes seem to be irritated." The Mountie began, wishing he could ask the question he actually wanted the answers to.
"I spoke to my mother about my decision, she wasn't very receptive." Meg answered flatly.
"Ah, I see." Fraser nodded, understanding immediately.
"My grandparents weren't supportive of my decision to join the RCMP." Benton volunteered, thinking back to the days of his youth.
"From all accounts your father was a legendary officer, I would think they would have been proud that you wanted to follow in his footsteps." Meg couldn't imagine doing anything else. She couldn't imagine Fraser doing anything else either.
"I don't believe they wanted history to repeat itself." Fraser answered ruefully. His father had been a very solitary man after his mother's death, staying gone for months on end. It was Meg's turn to nod sympathetically.
"I'm certain you've since made them very proud of you." The lady Mountie offered simply.
"I have tried, yes." Benton smiled, feeling at ease with her for the first time since the top of the runaway train. She smiled in return, looking away, her long, dark lashes hiding chocolate brown eyes for a split second. Ben felt like someone had struck him in the gut when she looked up at him again.
The phone ringing in the foyer shattered the spell between the pair. Meg's smile faded. Fraser stood up and jogged toward the desk in the entrance, picking up the handset on the fourth ring. TYK