The Mountie Song

by Adrienne


The characters belong to Alliance and no copyright infringement is intended. The lyrics to "The Mountie Song" by The Arrogant Worms is used with permission. The song can be found on their CD "C'est Cheese" and I heartily recommend it. The Worms' website is www.arrogant-worms.com.


"Frase, why are we doin' this?" Ray Kowalski, aka Ray Vecchio, asked his Mountie partner as they drove to the club.

"We are showing support for Constable Turnbull's endeavors, Ray." Benton Fraser, Deputy Liaison Officer of the Canadian Consulate, replied.

"And why are we doing that?" Ray continued.

"I promised Constable Turnbull that I would put in an appearance." Fraser admitted. He suppressed a sigh. He didn't want to go any more than Ray did; Turnbull was the most hopelessly maladroit person he had ever met. It was a source of constant puzzlement how someone as uncoordinated and, frankly, clueless as Renfield Turnbull ever managed to graduate from RCMP training.

Now, it appeared that Turnbull had musical ambitions. He was going to be appearing at a club that evening, playing guitar and singing. Fraser nearly blushed for the young Constable. Turnbull was sure to fall flat on his face. Possessing a very good singing voice himself, and able to acquit himself well on a guitar, Fraser could not help but feel sorry for the young man.

Still, it was good of Ray to come along and offer moral support.

Ray parked outside the club and locked the GTO. He was fond of Turnbull in a vague sort of way and he felt sorry for him. Especially since he knew Fraser was sure to be ever so slightly condescending to his junior officer.

The club as a rather nice pub, comfortable and slightly dim. The patrons, being mostly expatriate Canadians, were a goodnatured bunch and Ray and Fraser found seats not too far from the small stage.

Ray ordered a beer and Fraser a Coke, and they settled in to wait for the show. Fraser looked over the crowd and straightened to attention in his chair.

"What?" Ray poked him in the ribs.

"Inspector Thatcher." Fraser stuttered. "Over there."

Ray looked. Thatcher was sitting there, in jeans and a University of Toronto sweatshirt, with a group. She saw Ray and nodded graciously, if coldly. He grinned and raised his glass to her. Her lips thinned and she pointedly looked away.

**

The crowd quieted as the lights dimmed further and a young man in thick glasses took the stage.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. Welcome to the Maple Leaf Club. Please give a warm welcome to Renfield Turnbull."

The crowd applauded politely, as Turnbull took the stage. Fraser groaned and covered his eyes with one hand. Turnbull was in full dress uniform, rather than in casual clothes.

"What's the matter?" Ray hissed to Fraser.

"He should not be in full dress reds while off duty." Fraser primmed up his mouth.

"Yeah, like you don't?" Ray shot back.

"He is going to disgrace the uniform." Fraser said stiffly.

"Yeah, like you don't?" Ray smirked. Fraser glared at him.

"No, I most certainly don't..." Fraser began, but Ray poked him in the ribs again.

"Shut up, Frase. He's starting. Don't be rude." Ray warned, with another obnoxious smirk.

**

Turnbull picked up a guitar and sat down on the stool provided. The self conscious, maladroit Mountie they all knew seemed to vanish under the spotlight.

"As some of you may have guessed, in my day job, I am a member of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police. People often ask me what's it like to be a Mountie and some friends of mine from Kingston wrote a song for me, so I could answer the question." He said easily, then strummed the guitar. He sang with a light baritone voice, surprisingly pleasant.

     "When I was a kid I wanted to grow up 
     and be cop in a province, town or county.
     I thought it would be great if someday 
     I could only ever be a mountie
     I wanted to beat up crooks and make arrests because 
     that's part of the profession.
     But now I sit on my horse and tell American tourists 
     that Parliament's in session.
     I really don't look good in red and my stupid hat 
     flies off my head in every parade."
     "I'm young and strong and have no fear 
     but now I'm spending my career in motorcades.
     I wanna enforce the law, I wanna wear normal clothes
     I don't wanna have to smile for diplomats' home video
     I good at working real hard, 
     I should have joined the coast guard.
     Oh no, the RCMP.
     Is not the life for me."

Ray snuck a look at Fraser. Fraser was looking poleaxed. Turnbull, seemingly oblivious to this, kept singing.

     "I used to think that a mountie had to be 
     honest, loyal, humble, strong and thrifty.
     But even though we don't break ranks, we get no thanks, 
     they took us off the fifty... dollar bill.
     On Sussex Drive in hallowed halls 
     we act like guards in shopping malls, it's such a pain.
     Like someone's plotting the assassination 
     of the Minister of Sports and Recreation, oh that's insane.
     Sometimes I just want to puke on Sergeant Preston 
     of the Yukon, Dudley Do-Right's such a jerk. 
     And though he tries with all his heart, 
     my horse couldn't catch a golfing cart.
     Some days I hate to go to work.
     "I wanna enforce the law, I wanna wear normal clothes
     I don't wanna have to smile for diplomats' home videos
     I good at working real hard, 
     I should have joined the coast guard
     Oh no, the RCMP
     Is not the life for me."

Fraser snapped his head back when Turnbull mentioned the Yukon and Ray nearly fell off his chair with laughter, snorting beer through his nose.

Fraser, for once, did not even think to helpfully thump Ray on the back. He was too busy trying to keep his temper in check. Heedlessly, Turnbull repeated the chorus.

     "I wanna enforce the law, I wanna wear normal clothes
     I don't wanna have to smile for diplomats' home videos
     I'm good at working real hard, 
     I should have joined the coast guard.
     Oh no, the RCMP
     Is not the life for me."  

Then Turnbull finished up with a flourish as Fraser was ready to arrest him for treason.

     "Oh, no, it's not the life for me
     Oh, no, it's not the life for me, m-m-me, m-m-me, m-m-me, 
     m-m-me, m-m-me, m-m-me, m-m-me, m-m-me, m-m-me, m-m-me,  
     m-m-me, m-m-me, m-m-me...."

The crowd exploded in laughter and applause. Fraser was outraged. How dare Constable Renfield Turnbull, who was so privlidged to serve in the Royal Canadian Mounted Police, make fun of it? How dare he sing - in public! - such treasonous, scandalous, treacherous songs? Turnbull always seemed so proud of his uniform; clearly the Consulate and the RCMP had a viper in their midst.

He glanced over to Thatcher and caught her eye. The smile on her face vanished and she got up from her chair.

"Fraser, what on earth is the matter with you?" She demanded.

"Sir. Constable Turnbull must be reprimanded severely for such behaviour. I cannot believe that he would sing such a...." Words failed Fraser. He was so angry that he forgot to be anxious around Thatcher.

"Oh, lighten up, Fraser." She said scornfully. "Haven't you ever heard of the Arrogant Worms before?"

"The Arrogant Worms?" Ray snickered.

"They're a novelty band out of Kingston." Thatcher rolled her eyes. "The Mountie Song is a big favourite in RCMP circles. Nobody but a complete doofus would take offense at it." Thatcher sniffed contemptuously and walked back to her table. Ray was suffering from laughing too hard.

"Doofus?" He snorted. "Fraser, your commanding officer just called you a doofus."

"Ray..."

"I thought Turnbull was the only doofus in the Consulate." Ray continued.

"Ray..."

"Who'd a thought Turnbull was more on the ball than you, Fraser?" Ray continued.

"Ray, I fail to see the humour in the situation." Fraser's cheeks were crimson.

"Yeah, I know." Ray retorted. "That's why the Ice Queen called you a doofus."

"Ray, I think we should be leaving now." Fraser said shortly.

"Hey, no way. Turnbull's pretty good." Ray protested. Caught between excruciating embarrassment and the remnants of outrage, Fraser stayed, his arms folded disapproving across his chest.

Although Turnbull played and sang several more very funny and very Canadian songs, Fraser refused to bend. Ray ignored him and frankly enjoyed himself.

**

The next day, Fraser was still rather upset. Ray asked him why.

"You know why, Ray." Fraser said stiffly.

"Is it because of the song that hit at one of your sacred cows? C'mon, Fraser, Thatcher was right. Lighten up."

"It was undignified."

"It was funny, Frase. You can't take a joke?" Ray countered. "Or are you upset that Turnbull can sing as well as you can? Or that he actually showed talent?"

"What are you implying, Ray?" Fraser asked quietly.

"All I'm saying is, I think you have your nose out of joint because somebody you think of as a complete idiot showed he has a sense of humour and can sing." Ray replied, now serious. "You're so used to seeing Turnbull as inferior to you that you can't deal with him bein' successful. He was good last night, Frase. So get your head out of your ass."

Fraser was silent. Ray was right. He was more upset than the song really warranted. Jokes about Mounties were made all the time and they had never bothered him before. He had made a few himself. To have Turnbull make the joke, though, and to have Thatcher reprimand him for being unfair to Turnbull was a whole new experience. He was going to have to think about that.

As a result, Fraser found himself complimenting Turnbull on his success as soon as he saw the younger constable.

"Thank you, Sir." Turnbull flushed, pleased. He turned a little too fast to return to his office and crashed into the bowl of flowers, sending it to the floor.

"Turnbull!" Thatcher's voice came from the inner office and Turnbull straightened, bracing for the dressing down he was about to receive. Fraser smiled to himself as he went into his office. Things were back to normal.

END

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Adrienne ar895@freenet.carleton.ca