AN: This is in response to Sunday Night Serge's blackhole challenge - which was to have a character who had an unexplained dissappearance from the show meet Nathan. I was going to do one with Gabe Montgomery but it started feeling like a not so short story so I went with this one. Hope you enjoy it!

Riding toward the cluster of buildings that were both familiar and not familiar, James Fremont felt a mixture of feelings. The former coal mining town had changed over the past nine years - the school house being the most noticeable to the twenty-five-year-old. A new schoolhouse had been only a dream of those struggling to keep their town together following the mine accident that had claimed the life of his father and so many others. Though he had left behind friends, James had not tried to talk his mother out of heading to Calgary where her sister and brother-in-law had settled.

They were supposed to have a better life.

Three years later, having saved up enough to attend a university back east, James had stood on the train platform saying good-bye to his mother when a man had ran onto the platform with two Mounties chasing him. Somehow, one of the bullets the man had claimed he fired at the Mounties, had hit James' mother. She had died in his arms.

The next couple of years were not ones he was proud of as he battled depression. His aunt and uncle had let him stay with them. He tried to hold down a job but between his erratic attendance and drinking none of the myriad of jobs he tried lasted for long. Sergeant Thornton had come to see him on his way home from the Northern Territories. The Mountie had encouraged him to stop wallowing in his misery and do something that would make his parents proud.

Not long after that, James managed to sober up enough to attend Sergeant Thornton's funeral. The drear weather felt appropriate as he stood in the back of the crowd. He had not wanted to interact with anyone and slipped away the moment it was over.

Perhaps a visit to the man's grave would be in order once he got settled.

Would he ever feel settled here?

That question had been following him around ever since he had been given his posting. Of all the places he could have been assigned, he got the one place he hoped to never have to return again.

"I can do this for six months," James said quietly as he rode down the main street toward the Mounted Police office. The words were meant to convince him as memories he had long buried started to resurface.

Reaching the Mounted Police office, James reigned his horse to a stop and began to dismount.

"Mountie!" a childish voice called.

Wondering where the sound was coming from, James started to look around as his left leg touched the ground and his elbow made contact with something. A woman's cry had him cringing even as he turned as soon as both feet were on the ground.

"I am . . ." the apology faded as James came face-to-face with his former teacher. She had a hand to her eye and James recalled another time he had given the woman a black by accident. That time he had been fighting with Gabe Montgomery during school hours - in the saloon. It could be considered his first bar fight but definitely not his last. "I am so sorry Miss Tha . . . I mean Mrs. Thornton. Are you okay?"

"James?" Elizabeth asked, recalling her former student despite the way he had changed. "I haven't heard from you in years," she said even as her son stepped beside her and looked up at James with a confused look.

"You hurt, Mama," the boy said, a crestfallen look on his face.

"I didn't mean too and am very sorry," James told the boy. He looked back up at his teacher. "He looks like Constable Thornton."

Elizabeth smiled. "He is my pride and joy, but he is fascinated by all things Mounties. He came running when he saw you and I guess I should have watched where I was going."

"I really am sorry, Mrs. Thornton. Perhaps I should escort you to the infirmary or at least get you some ice."

"I'm fine, though it isn't Thornton any longer. My last name is Grant but as we are both adults now, you can call me, Elizabeth."

"Grant?" James said, a feeling of dread bubbling up. His training officers last name was Grant. Was there more than one Grant in this town?

"Yes, Grant," a new voice said. "As in my wife," a Mountie said, his attention on Elizabeth. "Are you alright?"

"I'll be fine. It isn't my first black eye," Elizabeth told him. She nodded toward James, who was standing at attention, holding a salute.

Turning toward the younger man, Nathan returned the salute. "At ease, constable," he told James. "First impressions are not your strong suit I see."

"I am sorry, sir."

"It was an accident Nathan," Elizabeth told him. "It was as much my fault as his. Besides, you aren't exactly the best person to be talking about first impressions. I seem to recall you ending up behind bars your first night in town."

James bit his bottom lip to keep from laughing. He did not want to dig the hole he was in with his training officer any deeper.

"That was all Bill's fault," Nathan replied sourly. "Let's get you settled, Constable Fremont. I finally cleared out the living quarters, which hasn't been used for years. You can stay there while you're here."

James nodded, as he turned to untie his gear from behind his saddle, already wondering if he was going to make it through his six-month probation period given the start he was off to.