His One True Love

Author's Notes: Kind of a comedy/tragedy involving Fraser and Thatcher. Ray is David Marciano, as always in my fan fic. Setting--in my happy little world where Ray came back to Chicago and everything went on just as it should have. Rating---Nothing happens, but somethings are talked of; so maybe- a mild PG. Enjoy.

By Teresa

Detective Raymond Vecchio was becoming worried. For the hundredth time in the past five minutes, he glanced at his watch, then glanced out of the diner's window. Still there was no sign of his friend, Constable Benton Fraser.

"Where the heck are you, Benny?," Ray grumbled.

Fraser was always punctual. Whenever he and Ray were fortunate enough to have lunch together, Fraser was always at the diner by 12:05.

Ray scowled at his watch again. "Twelve ten," he muttered. "Unless he's changed a heaping lot while I was gone, Benny's never this late."

Ray hesitated for only a moment longer, then he scooted to the end of the booth, saying decidedly, "I'm going to go look for the moron."

Just as Ray stood up he spotted a familiar scarlett tunic weaving through the crowded diner. Ray grinned in relief. "Hey, Benny!" he called. "Your dogteam make a wrong turn somewhere?"

Fraser made no response. He marched up to the booth, folded himself into the seat and sat staring blankly. Fraser's Artic wolf, Diefenbaker, was trailing along behind his master. He flopped down onto his haunches, glowered at Fraser then ruffed in annoyance at Ray.

Ray slid back into the opposite seat and uneasily studied his friend's wooden face. His blue eyes were glassy as marbles. His mouth was set in a straight line. His skin shone with a gloss of sweat. Most disturbing of all, Fraser had not even bothered to remove his Stetson; a thing he always did upon entering a building.

Ray spoke cajolingly, "Aw, com'on, Benny. I was only teasing about the dogteam."

Still, Fraser did not respond. He almost looked as if he were going into shock.

A horrible thought flashed into Ray's mind. Fraser always walked to the diner. Could he have caught a stray bullet? Could he have been hit by a car? Or knifed?

Desperate, Ray grabbed Fraser's arm and shook him as he demanded, "Benny? What is wrong with you?"

As if half waking from his stupor, Fraser blinked. With effort he focused his gaze on Ray. He stared at his friend for a full minute before speaking in a dead calm voice, "Inspector Thatcher."

Ray's eyebrows shot high. "The Dragon Lady?" he asked, his voice dripping disgust. "What's she done to you?"

For an answer, Fraser buried his face in his hands and groaned. Alarmed, Ray stared at Fraser. A thought crashed into Ray. "She's sending you back to the armpit of the North! You've barely gotten settled back here in Chicago and she's shipping you off to guard walruses or something!" In fury, Ray slapped the greasy tabletop. "We'll fight it, Benny! We will fight it!"

Once again in control of himself, Fraser answered in a deathly calm voice, "No, Ray. The Inspector does not wish to have me transferred. . . ."

He almost lost control again, but fought his emotions back into submission before continuing. "She desires something. . . .worse." Fraser raised pleading eyes to his friend as he said, "But, Ray, I do need your help."

Mystified, Ray said, "Sure, Benny-Boy. You know you can count on me, but. . ." Ray smiled coaxingly, "you have to tell me what the Inspector has done."

Fraser opened his mouth, but stopped. He glanced around at the crowd and cringed as he said, "I can't tell you here, Ray. Too many people." He jumped up and strode to the door.

Ray grunted in resigned disgust and followed his friend. Growling low in his throat, Dief stalked along behind.

*

Ray drove them to a nearby park. Almost before he could stop the Riviera, Fraser had slipped out of the passenger's side. He loped away and disappeared from sight in a small stand of trees. Fighting to keep his small supply of patience, Ray sprinted after him .

Dief elected to wait in the car.

Ray found Fraser sitting dejectedly on a stone bench beside a high splashing fountain. Breathing hard from his quick paced trot, Ray stood before Fraser and waited.

After many more minutes, Ray spoke coaxingly, "OK, Benny, we're about as secluded as we can get in Chicago. Tell me what the Dragon Lady has done to get you so upset."

Fraser cringed. With his gaze fixed miserably on his boot toes, he mumbled out his terrible news.

Gape mouthed, Ray stood and stared at Fraser. He was so astonished that he did not even notice when a shower of bright fall leaves swirled all around him.

With a great struggle, Ray finally regained control of his voice. Slowly he repeated what Fraser had said, "Inspector Thatcher asked you . . .to go. . .out on a . . .date??"

"Yes, Ray," Fraser groaned, as he swiped one hand across his forehead.

"But, I thought," Ray began, as he scrubbed one hand across his bare crown. "That you two had agreed not to seek a 'non-professional' relationship."

"So did I," Fraser cried, as he looked up to Ray. "But apparently; without even bothering to tell me; the Inspector has changed her mind. Just before I left for lunch. . .and I apologize for keeping you waiting, Ray. . . the Inspector marched into my office and said . . .'Ben'. . .and I knew then that something was up, because she rarely, if ever, addresses me as Ben. . . .'tonight we are going on a date. I will pick you up at seven o'clock sharp.' and she turned around and walked out." Fraser scrubbed furiously at his forehead. "So you see I desperately need your help, Ray."

"I'll say," Ray said jovially as he plopped down beside Fraser. "What do you want me to do?"

Fraser smiled in relief. "Go with me tonight."

Ray had to strangle down a laugh. "Sorry, Benny. No can do." He held up both hands.

"But you said you would help me," Fraser exclaimed in the tone of a disappointed child.

"I will, Benny," Ray said. "I will help you get ready. I will help you pick out the clothes you're going to wear. I will help you decide on a nice resturant, if she ain't got one picked out. I will help you with any needed advice. Heck, I will even splurge and help you out with some cash. But, as for the actual date itself--you are on your own." As he had named off the various ways he would help Fraser, Ray had counted them off on his fingers.

Finished, he made a fist and lightly cuffed Fraser across the chin. "Fair enough, Benny?"

Resigned, but far from satisfied, Fraser said, "Yes, Ray."

Ray lept to his feet and made a great show of studying his watch. "OK, let's see. It is now twelve forty-five. The date starts at seven. . . ."

He looked critically down his long fine nose at Fraser then shook his head. " We got a LOT of work to do."

*

At the first light tap on his apartment door, Fraser scuttled backward. Despite all of Ray's intensive coaching, he knew he was not ready. If he could just make it to the window, he could scoot down the fire-escape to safety.

"Ben?", Inspector Thatcher's voice called to him from the other side of the door. "Hello?"

Fraser reached the window. He fumbled open the latch. He was shoving the window up when the door swung open. He whirled about. She stood there bathed in the glow of the flickering hall light.

Paralyzed, Fraser stared goggle-eyed at Inspector Thatcher. He blurted out what he was thinking. "Red suits you, sir."

She laughed as she passed a ruby nailed hand down over her hip. "This old thing? Why thank you, Ben."

No, she was not wearing her scarlett tunic. Tonight she glittered in a strapless sequined sheath. Ruby teardrops adorned her earlobes. Dark coral beads encircled her white throat. Her shapely legs led down to a pair of red high heels that daintly set off her ruby nailed feet. Red most certainly did suit her.

Thatcher glanced beyond Fraser to the half open window and smiled knowingly. Coming toward him she asked gently, "Ben, you weren't thinking about running away were you?"

"Yes, sir," Fraser blurted. "I mean. . .no, sir. . . .I was just. . . .ummm. ." Fraser faltered to a cotton mouth halt as Thatcher stepped closer and smiled up into his eyes.

"Ben. Darling. This is not the consulate," she said with a smile. "Drop the sir. Tonight I'm just Meg. OK?"

"Yes, sir, Meg, sir," Fraser gulped as he stared down into her glistening brown eyes.

Thatcher held back a laugh. "Ben, you act like I'm here to torture you."

"Yes, sir. You are, sir," Fraser forced through stiff lips. "I mean. . .I am . . . . I mean you're not. . . I mean. . .you. . . " A bead of sweat trickled down his temple.

She smiled coyly. "Well, see if you think this is torture." Softly, she touched her lips to his.

Drawing back, she asked, "Now, did that hurt?"

Fraser's whole body had gone rock rigid. He could barely answer. "No, sir, Meg, sir."

Thatcher moved in again, purring, "Well, how about this?" She twined her arms around his neck and firmly pressed her lips to his.
Drawing back once more, she found Fraser staring like a deer in a semi-truck's headlights. Thatcher knew that if he had not been standing with his back to the wall he would have toppled like a felled tree.

Amused yet exsasperated, she exclaimed, "Ben! Really!" Suddenly hit with inspiration, Thatcher leaned closer into Fraser. Slowly sliding her arms around his waist she whispered into his ear, "Remember the train?"

The train.

A deep buried memory erupted to the surface of Fraser's consciousness.

His fixed gaze moved down to lock with Thatcher's. He wrapped her into his arms and pulled her tight to him as he covered her mouth with his.

She gasped; partly from surprise but mostly from pleasure. She had tried over and over to convince herself that she had not wanted this; but in her heart of hearts she knew she had longed for this for ages. Snuggling closer into his embrace she tightened her arms about him and let the passion of the kiss race through her like a runaway train.

How long they stayed locked in each others arms she did not know and she certainly did not care.She intended to enjoy it as long as possible; all the while hoping that this kiss would lead tonight to other things she desired.

Thatcher was almost too weak to stand when Fraser at long last broke the kiss. She clung to him, murmering in wonderment, "Ben. . .oh. . .Ben. . ."

Once again he pulled her to him. He just brushed her lips this time. Tenderly, he nuzzled into the shimmering locks of her dark hair. His lips came close to her ear. His breath was tingly warm on her skin. Slowly, he drew a long breath.

And then, he said it.

*

Ray thumped the black plastic bag down into the trash can, then banged the lid back on. With a huff, he scowled down at Diefenbaker, before stating, "Franny can always wiggle out of taking out the trash."

Dief yipped agreeably.

Gazing thoughtfully at the wolf, Ray continued, "You could have stayed, you know. Best friends ain't allowed, but wolves are different."

Dief retched harshly.

Ray chuckled in agreement. He then glanced at his watch. "Seven-twenty," he murmered. "Wonder how the moron and the Dragon are getting along? Guess they're at that fancy resturant. . .or somewhere. . .by now." He grinned wickedly at Dief.

Dief gagged.

Laughing, Ray led the way back into the Vecchio's house. He stepped into the kitchen and held the door open for Diefenbaker and . . . .

"Fraser??" Ray lept back with a startled yelp.

His friend had indeed followed the wolf inside.

Recovering from his shock, Ray slammed the door and demanded, "Fraser! What the heck are you doing here? You're supposed to be on your big. . . . ." Ray's voice trailed away as he looked fully at Fraser. All the color was gone from the mountie's face. All the color that is except for a smudge of red lipstick on the corner of his mouth and a pink handprint burned onto his left cheek.

"Benny?" Ray said with a gasp of disbelief. "What the heck happened?"

Anguish brimmed in Fraser's eyes as he struggled to answer.

With patient understanding, Ray laid a hand on Fraser's shoulder.

Fraser tilted his face up as he squeezed his eyes tight and gritted his teeth.

Ray waited, keeping his hand on Fraser's shoulder.

At last, so soft as to be almost inaudible, Fraser whispered one sentence,

"I called her. . . . . . .Victoria."

At least I didn't kill anybody this time! All standards disclaimers.