Nine Weeks Later ….
Time passed quickly around the Canadian Consulate. Turnbull made sure not to burn anymore dishes. Inspector Thatcher had a follow-up appointment with Dr. Milton; things were going well so far. Fraser kept a close eye on the Inspector, going out of his way to help her whenever she'd let him. That wasn't very much of the time though.
"Constable Fraser, will you send in the expense reports for the last six months?" Thatcher's voice was it's usual, demanding tone over the phone.
"Yes, Sir." The Mountie found the required files in the drawer opposite his desk. An early snow drifted lazily down from a lead gray sky. Diefenbaker stared out of the window at birds flitting around in the bushes nearby. The old wolf sighed as he turned and watched his human leave the room.
"We'll go for a walk during lunch, alright?" Fraser offered his furry friend. The wolf laid down on the carpet and looked up at him.
"You could go out into the back yard you know." That offer received an eye roll. The consulate's back yard was hardly bigger than three parking spots half covered in crab grass.
"Then you'll just have to wait until my lunch hour, sorry." The Mountie's 'sorry' rhymed with 'story' as he shrugged. Turning, he walked out of his office and down the hallway.
"Here are the files you requested, Inspector Thatcher." Fraser stepped inside her office after knocking briefly.
"Thank you, Constable Fraser, Ottawa wants our finalized expense report earlier this year, the fifth of January instead of the fifteenth." Meg grumbled. She had a dozen open files spread across her desk.
"Why the ten day difference do you think?" Fraser watched Meg for a moment, noting her pale features and tired air. She'd been different for the last few days, more sedentary.
"Who knows, they give me a deadline and I give them what they want." She shrugged, looking up at her junior officer. His usual, professional mask didn't cover his concern when their eyes met.
"Thank you, Constable Fraser." Meg said by way of dismissal. She didn't want him hovering around her office when she felt like road kill.
"You're welcome." Fraser stood for a long moment before turning and leaving her alone to put together the expense report.
Lunch Hour ….
"Come on Dief, shall we take a walk, I'm going to the bakery down the street." The white wolf popped to his paws like an eager puppy.
"I thought you'd be ready to leave." Fraser slipped into his RCMP issue, navy pea coat and adjusted his Stetson. Strolling down the hallway, he stopped by Turnbull's reception desk.
"Constable Turnbull, I'll be on lunch should you need me." Fraser informed him more from courtesy than from duty or regulation. The blond Mountie looked up from mailing list he was using to send calenders with Canadian National monuments to other consulates in the United States.
"The temperature has dropped, Sir, the sidewalks are quite dangerous." Turnbull informed him cheerfully.
"Yes, thank you kindly, Turnbull." Fraser left the consulate.
A stiff wind from the north blew against his cheeks as he and the wolf walked the two blocks to the bakery on the corner. They sold a dozen variety of cookies. Fraser's favorite was maple tarts. The owner, Lola Crabtree, had brought the recipe to Chicago with her from her native Alberta, Canada. She always gave Fraser extra cookies, refusing to take the money he tried to pay her. Lola said she did it because Fraser reminded her of home. She also always gave Dief a meaty dog treat. It wasn't as good as a raspberry cheesecake cookie but the wolf was grateful anyway. He liked the attention.
"Hello, Lola, how are you today?" Fraser greeted the petite woman in her fifties. She wore a red scarf over her graying red hair and an apron over her Maple Leaf's sweatshirt and jeans.
"Hey, Constable Fraser, I'm fine. I've got a new recipe, care to be my taste tester?" Her features spoke of a woman who was enjoying her life, aging gracefully as she worked in her shop and tended to her youngest son, Drew.
"I'd be honored, Lola, thank you kindly." Fraser stood looking around the moderately large shop, display cases of cakes, cookies, and cupcakes stood around the right side and a few tables and chairs sat off to the left. Black and white checkerboard tiles gave the shop a clean, classic feel.
Lola took a paper napkin and snagged a large, chocolate cookie from a wax paper covered tray. It was rather lumpy but smelled delicious. Fraser bit into it carefully, trying not to let crumbs spill onto the floor.
"Hmm, this is good, Lola, what is it?" He tasted peanut butter, oats, and coca.
"Chocolate and peanut butter no bake cookies." Lola smiled at him over the display case, gauging his reaction.
"They're delightful, I'll take a dozen if you have them, and a half dozen maple tarts please." The Mountie took off his Stetson and pulled out a twenty dollar bill. Lola counted out the cookies and put them in a box for him.
"What do I owe you, Lola?" Fraser held out the twenty.
"Nope, your money's no good here, Constable, call it a Christmas present." Lola held up her hands, instead pushing the box toward the Mountie.
"I couldn't possibly, Lola, ingredients are costly." Fraser protested.
"I'm not on the street starving, Fraser, I think I can give you a few cookies if I want to." Lola crossed her arms over her chest and pasted on a determined expression.
"I'm grateful, Lola, thank you kindly." The Mountie put the twenty in a Mason jar sitting on the counter collecting for the Salvation Army Christmas programs.
"Come on, Dief, we should be getting back to the consulate." Fraser tipped his Stetson to the bakery owner before leaving the shop. She watched him walk down the sidewalk, his Stetson visible in the crowd.
Back at the consulate, Turnbull smelled the cookies as soon as Fraser walked through the door. His light blue eyes sparkled like a child's.
"You've been to Lola's bakery, Constable Fraser. She makes the best sugar cookies." Turnbull licked his lips thinking of sugar cookies with strawberry icing and sprinkles.
"Yes, would you like some maple tarts, or Lola's new recipe, chocolate peanut butter no bake cookies?" Fraser offered generously, setting the large, white box on the corner of the reception desk.
"Yes, thank you, I'll just prepare a pot of tea to go with them." The junior Mountie rushed to the kitchen. Fraser knocked on Inspector Thatcher's door, listening for her to grant him access. Nothing stirred in the office so he knocked again, this time louder. Silence again.
"Inspector, are you alright?" Fraser opened the door and looked around the office. The files he'd put on her desk were scattered and the desk chair was pushed too far away from the desk.
"Fraser?" Inspector Thatcher's voice sounded muffled. He rounded the desk to see her lying on the floor, blood blanching on her dress slacks. She was trying to get up but fumbled.
"Stay still, Inspector, I'm calling an ambulance." Fraser picked up the phone and dialed 9-1-1.
"I don't know what happened, I felt dizzy then ..." Meg's voice trailed off. Fraser kept one eye on her as he calmly gave the dispatcher all the information she asked for.
"Inspector, the ambulance is en route, stay with me." Benton took her hand, pinning the telephone between his jaw and shoulder as he took her pulse. Meg's dark eyes fluttered a second before she could focus on Fraser's worried face.
"Fraser, I think my baby's gone." She pulled her hand away from his and laid it on her stomach.
"I'm afraid so, Inspector." Fraser hated seeing her lying there, her dream gone and her life hanging by a thread.
The Hospital Emergency Room ….
Ray found his way to the waiting room where Fraser stood looking out the window at the parking lot beyond. An inch of snow had fallen over the course of the day.
"Hey, Fraser, I heard the call over the radio, what's up?" The blond detective's light eyes were wide with fear and confusion.
"Inspector Thatcher." Was the Mountie's only answer.
"What's up with uh, with the 'Ice Queen' ?" Ray crossed against the pastel painted walls to stand near his friend. Fraser turned to look at him reproachfully for a moment.
"Sorry." Ray shrugged, running his hand over his jaw.
"I'm not at liberty to discuss the Inspector's condition, Ray." Fraser's voice was devoid of emotion.
"Come on, Fraser, buddy, you look like you lost your best friend, you need to talk, I can listen. Like uh, like church concession, er whatever." Ray talked with his right hand, the left on his lean hip as he spoke.
"You mean 'confession', Ray." Fraser corrected. He thought for a moment. Ray was undercover so he knew how to keep a secret.
"Perhaps you're right." Fraser sighed, running his left thumb nail over his eyebrow. "The Inspector has recently begun undergoing the in vitro fertilization process. This afternoon she miscarried."
"Thatcher wants a test tube baby, why, can't she do it the old fashioned way?" Ray squirmed in his coat at the thoughts of it all.
"That isn't the issue, Ray. Inspector Thatcher nearly bled to death in her office." Fraser's low tone grew a fraction louder.
"Sheesh, that's awful, she's gonna be alright though?" Ray asked, his arms crossed over his chest.
"Yes, with a blood transfusion and bed rest. I'm concerned for her." Fraser straightened up.
"Constable Fraser?" A woman's questioning voice broke into the conversation.
"Yes?" Fraser turned on his heel to see a young nurse standing in the doorway of the waiting room.
"Inspector Thatcher's asking for you, come this way please." She spoke softly, her blonde hair French braided away from her girl-next-door features. Fraser found his Stetson and followed her toward the emergency room.
Meg lay on a hospital bed, a blanket over her feet and a gown on. One hand lay on her lap, an IV taped down across the back. She looked pale and fragile lying in the bed propped up, her eyes closed.
"Inspector Thatcher?" Fraser spoke quietly but enough to rouse her. Meg's dark eyes opened slowly, her long lashes like black lace against her alabaster skin.
"Constable Fraser, the doctors say I'll be here a few days, you'll need to finish the expense report. I was scheduled to attend a dinner party tomorrow night, will you call and tell them I won't be attending?" Meg tried to remember what else it was she'd meant to tell Fraser but couldn't, her brain felt foggy from loss of blood.
"Don't worry, Inspector, I'll attend to everything in your absence." The Mountie spoke quietly, fighting the urge to take her hand and press a kiss against her forehead. Meg seemed so small, much smaller than usual.
"Thank you, Constable Fraser." Thatcher reached out to touch his arm but pulled away at the last second.
"You're welcome, Inspector, any time." She saw a warmth in his eyes she'd never seen before. Fraser's face could be masked, but his eyes betrayed him every time.
"Inspector Thatcher, we have a few more tests we'd like to run." A business faced man in his forties spoke before opening the curtain surrounding the exam room.
"I'm afraid you'll have to excuse us." He turned to Fraser.
"Yes, I'll be in the waiting room." Fraser looked to Meg for permission to leave. She nodded almost imperceptive.
"So, how's Thatcher?" Ray asked as Fraser exited the emergency room.
"Inspector Thatcher is doing better, they are currently running additional tests, she'll be in the hospital a few days." Fraser informed his unofficial partner.
"You need a ride back to the consulate?" The detective offered, pulling out the keys to his classic GTO.
"No, thank you, I believe I'll stay until after they've admitted Inspector Thatcher, thank you though." Fraser frowned for a minute before his expression went back to it's usual passivity.
"Call me if you need me, buddy." Ray slapped Fraser on the back before he left the hospital.
Four Hours Later …
"Constable Fraser, she's asking for you again." The blonde nurse spoke from the doorway again.
"Thank you kindly, Miss." Fraser didn't even see the flirty smile the nurse gave him, he just went on back to the exam room.
"Constable Fraser," Meg made the head of the bed raise her to a sitting position.
"Yes, Sir." He opened the curtains and stepped inside the white cocoon.
"Why are you still at the hospital?" She asked, puzzled. Between IV fluids and blood, the Inspector was beginning to feel better but sadder.
"I wanted to make certain you didn't need anything before I left for the consulate." Fraser wasn't being exactly truthful. He wanted to stay with her until visiting hours were over, to hold her hand and listen if she needed to talk.
"I'm fine, Constable Fraser, there's an adequately trained staff of doctors and nurses to see to my needs." The 'Inspector' tone was creeping in to her voice.
"Yes, Inspector, I understand." Fraser wanted to protest but knew it would only upset her and that wouldn't be good for her vulnerable health.
"Dismissed, Constable." Meg found herself saying those words out of habit.
"Call should you need anything, Inspector." With that the Mountie left the exam room and walked slowly toward the exit. Every nurse along his path watched Fraser walk past. He didn't notice any of them.
TYKTYKTYK