The Princess Margaret Suite …
Weeks Later ….
Meg sat on the queen sized bed, the lights off and the drapes drawn tight. The room was cool around her despite her wool sweater and denim jeans. She didn't feel any of it. The lady Mountie sat staring into the darkness, its' absence of light mirroring her own hollow feeling. She wanted to badly to be a mother, to feel that wonderful, unshakable love between herself and a child. She dreamed of showing her child the world for the first time, exploring that world with them as they grew. Meg had so much love and no one to give it to, no one to share her life with. The older she got the worse that felt. In her teens the world had held endless opportunities. Her twenties were spent pursuing her goals, keeping busy and focused. In her thirties, Meg wanted to slow down a bit, to search for the deeper meaning of her life. Now she felt like there was no meaning to her life.
"Inspector Thatcher, are you alright?" Fraser's voice carried through the closed door.
"I'm fine, Fraser, I don't want any company." Meg said, tears streaming down her cheeks, mascara and all. She wanted to be alone with her pain, and she especially didn't want Fraser to see her crying.
"May I come in?" Fraser persisted, his hand resting on the knob.
"I said I don't want company, Constable Fraser, please go." Meg felt like throwing something at the door, but nothing was handy.
"I'm coming in." He turned the knob and pushed the door open, a sliver of light the only illumination in the bedroom. Meg had come back to the consulate half an hour before from her appointment with Dr. Milton and disappeared upstairs. Turnbull had left and Fraser's shift was over.
"What part of 'leave' do you not understand, Fraser?" Meg held her hand up to keep the light out of her eyes. He could still see the dark mascara stains running down her cheeks.
"I'd rather have you angry with me than for something to happen to you." He closed the door and stepped carefully into the room, turning on the lamp on the bedside table.
"I'm fine, Fraser, just go." Meg sighed as if the weight of the world were on her shoulders.
"Talk to me, Meg, tell me what's wrong." He sat down on the bed beside her, only inches separating them at the shoulders.
"Fine," She slumped a little as she sat there in the dim room. "The en vitro process wasn't successful, this was the second attempt. I don't have the money to try again." Meg's voice was unnaturally devoid of emotion.
"Perhaps you can try again later." Ben offered, studying her.
"No, Fraser, there won't be a next time, I'm not a good candidate." She leaned her head on her hands, fresh tears welling in her dark eyes. "I wanted a baby so badly, I could give a child a good, loving home." She sobbed before she could stop herself. Meg sat up again, wiping her eyes which didn't do much good. She felt Fraser slide his arm around her shoulder and pull her closer. Meg leaned her head against his shoulder and slipped her arms around him. Ben rocked her, letting her cry against his leather jacket. His embrace was warm and comforting.
"There, there, Meg, everything is going to be alright." Ben whispered as he smoothed her short hair away from her face.
"I wish that were true." Meg sniffed, trying to quit crying. She felt so mentally tired.
"There are other options." Ben offered, but it was like throwing a lit match on a wild fire.
"Thank you for trying, Fraser, but I think I should get used to reality." Meg shrugged, yawning.
"Perhaps with a good night's sleep things will look brighter in the morning." The Mountie smiled.
"I don't feel like going home." Meg shook her head, unbidden tears rolling down her cheeks.
"Stay here, tomorrow is Saturday, the consulate will be unoccupied." Ben didn't like the thoughts of Meg going home alone anyway.
"I think I will." A night in a different place sounded inviting. Knowing Ben was just downstairs didn't hurt either. Meg sat up straight. She loved the way that Fraser's hand rested on the small of her back. Quickly, the lady Mountie kicked off her loafers and shrugged out of her black blazer.
Ben stood up and turned back the covers for her. It was a large bed with soft, expensive sheets. He watched Meg slide into bed, fully dressed.
"Don't go." Ben heard her husky voice say as he reached to turn the lamp off. He heard the sheets rustle as Meg sat up. Her dark eyes were wide and so deep.
"Okay." Ben said softly, leaving the light burning.
"Hold me for a while before you go." She scooted over to allow him room. Meg felt like she had nothing left to lose so she might as well gamble and ask for what she'd been dreaming about for months.
Quickly, Ben shrugged out of his jacket and untied his boots before hanging his jacket over the back of the chair at the desk. He laid down on top of the quilt, facing Meg. She slid her arm around his rib cage as he pulled her close.
"Thank you, Ben." Meg figured while she was on a roll, why not go for it.
"You're welcome, Meg." He looked into her eyes as he caressed her cheek with his rough thumb.
"Kiss me," Meg more mouthed than whispered, her heart pounding. "only if you want to." She added, her mind spinning. It surprised her when Ben's lips met hers. Closing her eyes, Meg kissed him back, drinking in the sensation as if it would be her last. She felt his fingers brush the exposed skin across the small of her back, making her arch against him. Hungry for his touch, Meg slipped her hand into Ben's collar and down his back.
"I shouldn't be doing this." Registered clearly in Ben's mind. His body told him otherwise. Holding Meg this way felt right, it felt natural. Ben knew her well enough to know that she'd tell him if things went too far to suit her. Either way, he figured he'd regret this night.
"I want you, Ben." Meg said when she finally came up for air, her fingers in his hair. She ached for him, his kiss, his voice saying her name.
"You have me, I've always been right here." He answered, rubbing her back, his hand warm through the material of her sweater.
"I want you in the carnal sense." Meg clarified, feeling suddenly foolish. Ben lifted her chin and pressed a soft kiss to her lips. His other hand brushed her exposed skin again, this time sliding beneath her form fitting sweater. Ben heard her gasp.
"I know." He whispered in a deep voice that gave Meg good chills. She began fumbling with the buttons on his shirt, almost giddy. When she finally unfastened the last button, she stretched her fingers to explore his chest then progressed down his abdomen. She felt his breathing speed up, anticipation in his eyes. Nothing mattered, not the consulate, and especially not the regulations. He let her unfasten his jeans, her kisses trailing down his bare chest as she pushed at the denim material. Meg pulled off her sweater, tossing it into the darkness surrounding the bed. She felt Ben fumbling with the double buttons of her dress slacks. Their fingers collided when she went to help him with the confounding fasteners. Slipping out of the dark gray, wool material, Meg slid from beneath the covers as well. Ben's rough hands cupped her face as she lay against him on her side. He looked her deep in the eye, willing her to tell him to leave again. It wasn't too late to quit and pretend that all this had been a vague dream.
Finally, Meg smiled, her fingers running through his short, thick hair. Ben pressed a hot, desirous kiss to her full, wine colored lips. The lady Mountie rolled onto her back, letting Ben take control of the situation. She didn't want to be in charge for once. She knew that if she could relinquish control to anyone it would be Benton Fraser. Meg trusted him more than she'd admit to him or to herself. She knew he'd never hurt her or see her hurt if he could do anything about it.
Achingly slow, Ben began kissing Meg's neck, his body looming over hers. No layers existed between them, either figuratively or literally. They were just two people, alone in the dim light of a forty watt bulb. The consulate, the regulations, the world had all disappeared. Ben let himself explore places on Meg he'd only dreamed about in the privacy of the pre-dawn hours. She responded with every soft kiss, every caress, he gave her. Ben wanted her as much as she wanted him and Meg could feel his hunger. She let him take his time though she was dying to take him inside of her. When their eyes met Meg knew that Ben was taking his time on purpose, drawing out the easy pleasures while he could. She let him, fully surrendering to him. Ben saw the trust in her eyes. No one had ever trusted him as completely as Meg did in that moment. He had her love, Ben knew that, he'd longed for her trust. To receive her trust he knew that he'd have to give her his. There were things about him she would find out, things he'd rather not remember, much less tell. The dark places he'd gone in his soul when Victoria called to him from the train, the places he'd gone in his mind to forget their time together. Ben felt like he didn't deserve a good woman like Meg. How could someone so smart and morally decisive want him?
Kissing his way up her thigh, Ben moved slowly, savoring each sound, each sensation as he prepared to fulfill both their secret dreams. Tasting her lips again, he felt her hands roam his back then down his hip, the heat between them rising. She timidly put the heel of her hand on his hip bone. Looking down at her, Ben saw her need for his permission. Gently, he laid his hand over hers and kissed her. He needed her as much as she needed him just then. Both of them were tired of being lonely, of separating themselves into two different people for the sake of the job.
Ben gently edged his way into Meg. She met his desire with a sharp gasp, her body arching against him. Ben froze for a moment, wondering if he'd done something wrong.
Meg whispered, "Please, Ben, make love to me." Her voice begging him. She heard his ragged breathing as he stared down at her, concern in his eyes. She slipped her thighs around his waist and raised one hip against him. He filled her physically yes, but also emotionally. Both of them wondered why they hadn't done this sooner.
Within a heartbeat he was in control again. Time seemed to stop and the night and need claimed them both. Ben found his rhythm, rocking Meg slowly at first, enjoying the feel of her body pressed against his. Where he was hard she was soft. Meg called his name in a strangled cry of pleasure. Gone was her 'Inspector' tone of voice.
"Meg, sweet Meg." Ben groaned into her shoulder as he held himself back, prolonging her pleasure as well as his own. He didn't want this night to end.
Meg came first, the night's pleasure overwhelming her, a mindless groan escaping her throat, Ben's name on it's heels. The bed frame rattled beneath them, making the sensation that the earth shook even stronger. Ben joined her in brilliant ecstasy a few minutes later. Tears of joy and release slid from Meg's eyes as she lay against Ben's body, his breathing still fast and a bit jagged.
"What's wrong, Meg?" He craned to look at her face, his eyes full of concern.
"I'm happy." She took his hand as she snuggled down against him.
"That's all I ever want." Ben kissed her cheek and pulled Meg closer, his arms circling her trim frame. They laid awake for a while, enjoying the feeling of contentment, the clear skies after the storm. Meg fell asleep first, hogging the sheets. Ben let her, content to be next to her in such an intimate embrace.
Dawn ….
The next morning Ben woke to the sound of Diefenbaker barking and whimpering at the door to the bedroom. His eyes popped open and he wondered why there was a canopy over his cot. Then he felt Meg wiggle beside him. Her hair stood up all over her head and she looked at him with one sleepy eye before she smiled.
"Good morning." She kissed his cheek before stretching like a cat in the morning sunshine.
"Good morning, Meg." He let a slow smile spread across his face as he watched her move one way then another, finally curling into a ball in the middle of the big bed. Whining at the door pulled Ben's attention away from the mesmerizing sight of the lady Mountie smiling flirtatiously at him from beneath the sheets.
"Go, before your wolf makes Lake Michigan in the hall." Meg wrinkled her short, perky nose at him and smiled.
"I'll be back soon." Ben slipped out of bed, his eyes smoldering as he gathered his clothes.
"Take your time, I'm not going anywhere." Meg giggled as Ben danced around trying to stand on one foot and put his boxers on at the same time. The lady Mountie wondered what other surprises her subordinate officer had in store for her.
Later That Morning ….
Fraser walked Diefenbaker, whistling a jaunty tune as he followed the wolf around the block while he took care of business. The old wolf kept looking back, whizzing half an ounce, then moving on to another clump of grass or stick, taking his time to annoy his human.
"You know very well I wish to get back to the consulate before she can come to her senses." Ben said sternly to his oldest, furriest friend. Dief sighed then finished his business against a dormant forsythia bush.
"Thank you kindly." Fraser nodded toward the white fur ball. Five minutes later they walked up the front steps and into the consulate. Ben half expected Meg to be gone, but he heard her in the kitchen, grease sizzling in a skillet. She cracked two eggs into the skillet then tossed the shells carelessly into the open trash can halfway across the kitchen.
"Would you like some fried eggs, Ben?" She looked up at him for a split second, a smile pulling like the devil on the corner of her lips.
"Yes, two please." He answered, a smile also pulling on his features. She hadn't left and she wasn't unhappy or cross. All in all, it was turning in to a dream of a day.
"Toast or bagel?" Ben asked, manning the toaster on the counter beside her. A pot of coffee bubbled and dripped already. It smelled heavenly.
"Toast, thanks, how do you like your eggs?" Meg watched Ben bend over, looking in the refrigerator for the butter, his jeans taunt across his scrumptious butt. She nearly forgot about the eggs frying in the pan until she felt hot grease hit her thumb, just enough to wake her up.
"Over easy." He stood up, butter bowl in hand.
"Me too." She chirped, sounding like a school girl. Ben paused, wondering if he were dreaming. Was Inspector Margaret Thatcher standing in the consulate kitchen frying eggs for his breakfast? Ben shook his head, stranger things had happened- to him even.
The pair sat down at the small kitchen table in the corner of the industrial kitchen, each with a plate of fried eggs, toast, and coffee. Ben waited until Meg had started eating to tie in on his own breakfast. It was late for him, but then he'd spent several hours in her arms that he usually spent sleeping. Meg glanced over at him, taking great pains with her breakfast, her mind turning events over from every angle. For once she let her heart take the lead, her head was the reason behind her loneliness.
"Last night was ..." Meg began slowly, taking a deep breath before meeting Ben's open, expectant gaze. "I hope it wasn't the last." She laid her silverware down, puffing her cheeks out before releasing a breath. That had come out sounding so dumb. Truthful but still dumb.
"I very much hope it wasn't the last as well." Relief surged through Ben as he laid his silverware down. Timidly, he took Meg's hand, squeezing her fingers for a second.
"It won't be easy, keeping our relationship separate from the consulate. For once, I hate my rank." Meg admitted, more to herself.
"I don't." Fraser's words popped out. Meg looked at him incredulously.
"If you weren't an Inspector you never would have been assigned to the Chicago Consulate." Ben reasoned. Meg rolled her eyes and laughed.
"How are we going to handle it when we disagree, professional objectivity isn't my strong suit." The lady Mountie changed the subject, tackling the tough questions first.
"Communication, we keep the lines of communication open between us." Ben suggested. He'd already thought of what a relationship with Meg would be like, the ups and the downs.
"Are you certain you're up to the challenge, Ben?" Meg looked him squarely in the eye. If he hesitated or seemed unsure, she'd let him bow out gracefully before trapping him in a relationship.
"Yes, eager actually." Ben smiled, picking up his fork. Meg blinked, surprised at his answer.
"You don't have to do this, Fraser, I understand if you have reservations, I haven't been easy to work for." She warned him, studying his reaction across the table. A million questions crossed her mind; Will this last? Will it go anywhere? Does he love me?
"I have no reservations, Meg, I understand the consequences of taking on a relationship with you, both of us have been independent for quite some time, it will require some adjustment, for both of us." Ben leaned forward, meeting Meg's questioning gaze. New worlds were opening up for the lady Mountie as she looked deep into Ben's green eyes.
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