v:* {behavior:url(#default#VML);} o:* {behavior:url(#default#VML);} w:* {behavior:url(#default#VML);} .shape {behavior:url(#default#VML);} Disclaimer: Due South and its characters are owned by Alliance. I make no claim to them and receive no profit for using them.   Rated: PG-13   Past, Present, Future Part 1   By: Kelly Ward calico321@yahoo.com   A woman walked through the doors of the squad room and surveyed the activity. The room was filled with police, civilian workers, and criminals waiting processing, but there was no sign of the one man she was looking for. A petite, dark-haired young woman walked toward her, her shirt identifying her as Civilian Aide. "Excuse me," she asked the approaching woman. Francesca seemed startled out of her reverie by the sound. "Yes?" she inquired. "I'm looking for a man," she replied. Francesca rolled her eyes. "Aren't we all?" "I mean a specific man. He's supposed to spend a lot of time here." "What's his name?" "I don't know." "Is he a cop?" Francesca asked impatiently. "Not exactly," she looked confused. "I mean he's a Mountie, but I don't think that's considered a cop, is it?" Francesca's mouth dropped open. "Did you say 'Mountie'?" "Yes," she said. "I know it sounds a little odd, but he's supposed to be here, or at least he was a few years ago. I'm really sorry to bother you." As she turned to walk away Francesca put her hand on the woman's arm turning her back around. "You're talking about Fraser?" "Fraser? Is he a Mountie?" "Well, yes. He works with my brother Ray. They're out right now, but I expect them back any time now. That's Ray's desk over there," she pointed towards the middle of the room. "You can wait there for them if you'd like." "That's really nice of you, thanks," she said as she headed over to the indicated desk. She sat down in the chair on the side of the desk and pulled a book out of her shoulder bag, preparing for a long wait. A few minutes later she heard a commotion coming through the doors and then a cold, wet nose poked itself under her book. "Oh!" she exclaimed, "Aren't you adorable!" She put her book down and started scratching Dief's velvety ears and under his chin. Before long he was on the floor allowing her to scratch his chest. His eyes rolled in ecstasy and he let out a sigh of satisfaction. A pair of worn but well polished brown boots came into view next to Dief's head. She slowly let her eyes travel up the legs then up the bright red tunic to the man's face and let out a gasp. It was like staring directly into the sun. She had ceased scratching Dief's chest so he let out a disgusted yowl and got up, shaking himself as if he had just awoken from a deep nap while walking away nonchalantly. Fraser smiled and said, "How are you today, Ma'am?" She stared for a minute than said, "Are you Fraser?" "Yes, I am Constable Benton Fraser, RCMP, and that wolf you were molesting was Diefenbaker. Can I be of service?" "My name is Marta Reynolds and..." she paused as Ray came up behind Fraser and sat down at his desk. "Hi, I'm Ray, Detective Vecchio, that is. Can we be of service?" Marta frowned, looked back to Fraser and said, "May I speak to you privately?" "Anything you say to me you can say to Ray, but we can go into the interrogation room if that will make you more comfortable." Marta nodded and Fraser led the way down the hallway. Dief saw the precession and followed. Marta sat in the chair Fraser indicated and Dief walked over and laid his head in her lap. "He's just so lovely," she cooed as she stroked his head and rubbed his ears. She then cleared her throat and took a deep breath. "I've come to ask for your help." "What kind of help?" Ray asked. Marta looked from Fraser to Ray and back to Fraser. "Help stopping a jewelry heist." "What do you know about a heist?" Ray asked, slightly skeptical of the mousy woman with horn-rimmed glasses. "I know I planned it and it should go off without a problem so I want you to find out where it's going to happen and stop it first." "I'm sorry Ma'am, but did you say you planned the heist?" Fraser asked. "Yes." "Are you involved in the robbery?" Ray asked. "No," she replied wearily. "I think you have some explaining to do," Ray said. Dief rolled his eyes towards Marta as he sensed the tension in her arm. "I don't mean I planned to do it; I just planned it. Hypothetically that is." "Why?" Fraser asked. "It's the sort of thing I do, not planning crimes exactly, but theorizing things. I have a 250 IQ and I'm able to 'enact' things in my head, using existing information and coming up with a probable outcome. Certainly there are computers that do that, however there are always certain factors that a computer can't calculate like the human equation, which is basically illogical, if you know what I mean. Companies hire me to figure out how safe one product will be or what kind of improvements they can do. But in my free time I get bored. TV is so mundane and I've read so many books I've had to start wearing glasses. I've started surfing the net..." "Pardon me, but doing the what?" Fraser asked confused. "You know, going online...the Internet? Haven't you ever used computers before Constable?" "Yes I've used computers but I've never gone inline." "Online," both Ray and Marta corrected at the same time. "My apologies, online. Please forgive the interruption. Continue." "Anyway, like I said, I've been spending a lot of time online and in chat rooms. Not really genius level stuff, but it passed the evening hours. Well, one night someone in the chat room asked me what I did and I tried explaining it in layman's terms, when almost immediately this woman gets really interested in what I have to say. She even suggests going into a private chat room. After a while she asks if I could plan a robbery to see what steps needed to be taken to avoid one. She claimed her father owns a jewelry store and was concerned to the point of paranoia about getting robbed. She thought this could calm him down. I figured that would be no problem and had her Email be the specs of the store. It took me about three hours and I figured the perfect way to do it. So I Emailed it to her. But her response was very strange. I even printed it out for you. When I tried to contact her after, all the messages were returned saying user unknown. That's when I knew I had to track you down." Marta pulled the piece of paper out of her shoulder bag and handed it to Fraser.     Thank you for your help. It will come in real handy. If you're ever at the 27th district of the Chicago PD look up a Canadian Mountie for me. Tell him he made a choice once and he will have to pay for that choice for the rest of his life.   VM     Ray noticed Fraser went pale at the paper and snatched if from his hands. "Son of a Bitch! It's her, isn't it? I can't believe her gall!" Steam was practically coming out of his ears as he stormed around the interrogation room. Marta shrank back in her seat, eyes wide open. Dief made a little woof of inquiry at Fraser whom apparently, although still there physically, was no longer in the room.   ******************* It can't be, it can't be, it can't be, Fraser kept saying to himself as his friend, Detective Vecchio ranted about how horrible Victoria was. For a moment he was numb, then he grabbed the back of the chair he was closest to and jerked it out from under the table and sat down heavily in it. He took a deep breath and then leveled his gaze across the table at the frightened woman who was staring at Ray as though he would pounce on her any minute. She finally noticed Fraser staring at her and met his gaze. "Is he ok?" she asked. Fraser took a moment before forming his words. Was it possible she really didn't know what she had done? "He will be fine. But please, I must be certain that this is for real. This is a very serious situation you have just described." "I swear that's exactly how it happened. Will you please tell me what's going on?" Constable Benton Fraser, RCMP, lowered his head and let out a raged sigh. Ray, who had apparently finished venting his aggression at the absent women, turned to Marta and said, "Several years ago a woman named Victoria Metcalf was involved in a bank robbery. Benny tracked her down and arrested her, but not before falling in love. He had to choose love or duty. He chose duty. After she was released from prison she came to town, seduced Benny here, and then tried to get us both arrested. That was of course after she torched his father's cabin in Canada, and let's not forget shooting Diefenbaker." Dief seemed to shrink from the memory and nudged Marta's hand for comfort. Ray continued, "We were able to figure out what was going on, almost too late, but by then she'd blackmailed Benny into helping her buy stolen diamonds with money from the bank robbery. Yet he still loved her," Ray looked a Fraser with a combination of pity and incredulity. "She asked him to run away with her, and I wound up shooting him in the back." Marta was startled by this last revelation, and she looked from one man to the other. Fraser looked up at Ray and it seemed all the pain they had gone through was back. Would they really have to go through all this again? He closed his eyes and seemed to steel himself to the task. There were more important issues at hand then his personal life. "Ms. Reynolds, we will need all the information you have that can lead us to the location of the intended sight of this robbery," he said to her. "Well, I don't really know much. I think it is in Chicago. Her profile said that's where she lived." She closed her eyes and thought for a moment. "She said it was on a corner; had both a storefront door and a rear entrance to an alley; opened at 9 am, closed at 6 pm; had several employees, but only two closed the store." She opened her eyes and looked exasperated, I'm really sorry, but other than the floor plan, I don't remember anything else." Ray and Fraser looked at one another. Fraser said, "Could you draw it for us?" Marta paused for a moment, then said hesitantly, "Well I'm not very artistic, but I'll try."   *******************   Ray drove the Riviera will Fraser sat silently staring out the window. Dief was in the backseat not unaware of his human's aura of misery. He periodically would lean over and nussle Fraser's ear, but this received no response. "Um, Benny, are you going to say anything at all to me? I'm sorry I got so hot under the collar in there, but she still boils my blood. I didn't mean to reopen the old wounds." He looked over hopefully. Fraser looked at Ray and said, "I'm not angry at you. I think I know the store." Ray was suspicious at his friend's insistence this wasn't bothering him, but said, "Where do you think it is?" "I don't want to say anything right now." He looked at his watch; it was 6:15. "According to Marta's plan it would have happened by now if it was scheduled for today, so I think we should just call it a night. Can you drop me off at the Consulate? I've some paperwork to finish for Inspector Thatcher by tomorrow morning." "Sure, Benny. I think a good night's sleep is what we both need. We'll start fresh in the morning and get this figured out, right?" Fraser just nodded his head and continued to stare out the window. Ray knew that his friend must have been having some heavy thoughts to be so quiet. Surely he would have heard some Inuit story by now. Ray pulled the Riv in front of the Consulate and Fraser got out with Dief. Before turning to go inside he looked pointedly at Ray and said, "Everything will be fine, Ray, you'll see." Then he stood up, turned on his heel and marched smartly up the stairs. Ray shook his head unable to imagine what his friend was going through at this time. He put the car in gear and drove away lost in his own thoughts.   *******************   Fraser went directly to his office and sat down at his desk. He stared at the wall for a full five minutes before he heard his father's voice. "I know what you're feeling, Son," Fraser, Sr. said. "No, Dad, I don't think you do." "You still love her don't you?" Fraser closed his eyes. "You mean do I think this time we can get away together? No, that's not what I'm thinking. I'm thinking that when faced with the choice of duty or love there really is only one true answer. If love doesn't lead you down the same path then there's something wrong." "Then why didn't you and the yank go stop that robbery?" Fraser looked at his father and said, "It was too late, she meant for me to fail. There was no way to stop her." "Then by not trying, you have just forsaken you duty! You gave up without even trying. That's not the son I raised." "You didn't raise me Dad," Fraser said wearily. Normally he looked forward to bantering with the spirit of his dead father, but tonight it seemed as if he were debating his own conscious. "I won't have her look at me that way again. She hates me! I can't do anything about that, and I'm sorry if I can't face it either..." Just then the phone on his desk rang. "Canadian Consulate, Constable Benton Fraser speaking. How may I help you?" It was Ray. "Benny! You'll never guess what! There was a robbery tonight! Somebody tipped off a beat cop who happened along at the time and they got 'em." "Them? There was more than one?" Fraser asked. "Yeah, there were a couple of guys, and another one, possibly a woman, who got away. I bet that was her!" "You're probably right, Ray." "Benny...Did you tip off the cops?" Ray seemed embarrassed to ask. He didn't want to imply he didn't trust his partner, but it seemed too much of a coincidence. There was no answer for so long Ray was worried the connection was broken. Then Fraser said quietly, "Good night, Ray. I'll see you in the morning," and he gently hung up the phone. She was still out there trying to hurt him, make him look the fool running after shadows. Fraser swallowed the lump that had developed in his throat. What Ray didn't know was that the woman who got away from the jewelry store was not Victoria, but Marta. She was part of the grand plan to make Fraser suffer, but why? And how had she met Victoria? It really wasn't important. What is important was that Fraser had had the forethought to do a little background checking on Marta Reynolds. While she did possess genius level IQ and worked as a freelance theorist, it was she who's father owned a prominent jewelry store in Chicago and who for certain social disgraces had been disinherited six months ago. Fraser tiredly rubbed his eyes. "I'm sorry, Son," Fraser, Sr. said standing before him. Without a word Fraser rose from his desk and went home.   The End.