I'll Be Seeing You	  I'll Be Seeing You 

by Ban Oks  

Disclaimer: All characters described  belong to Alliance, Paul Haggis,
associated Due South writers and performers etc. Please due not sue.  Not
mine just borrowing TYK. 
 For personal consumption only do not use otherwise without *author's*
permission.  

Dedicated to Pat, Bing and Bad Kitty - icky ending for Pat, it's about as
romantic as I can  get ;) 
    

Benton Fraser lay reading his father's journal by the soft yellow light of
his oil lamp. The night wind  breezed coldly  through the open window.
Dief was restless, his lupine frame twisting in fleeting dreams. Benton
replaced the book carefully on his  bedside cabinet and  gazed sightlessly
at the echoing shadows  on the wall.  

A  swell of  loneliness washed  over him but soon gave in to  a baser
emotion. Jealousy. With a deep sigh he finally admitted it to himself.  
He had *acted* the perfect Mountie all day. He had been extremely if not
excessively courteous, diplomatic - and all the other social graces he
used to hide his feelings so well.  

Inspector Thatcher's fiancé had been  pleasant enough; they had even had
an interesting discussion on various  obscure equine diseases, including
his own. But the Patagonian vet intended to take his - he gave a rueful
smile - *his* Meg home with him. Had she ever been his though? Had their
one  brief moment of intimacy perched precariously atop the runaway train
arisen simply through passion of circumstance? He closed his eyes and
relived the scene.  If only Buck hadn't interrupted - perhaps...? 
   
    

"Hi Frasier, I was wondering if you were free for lunch." Detective
Vecchio greeted his friend cautiously, anticipating rejection.  Fraser had
withdrawn into himself lately, unwilling to face up to his friend's
inevitable questioning.  

Ray stood silently in front of Fraser's desk.  A light dusting of  snow
covered his dark winter coat.  He peeled off his leather gloves and waved
one in Fraser's face.  "Hey Benny, anyone in there?"  His tone was light
but his sensitive green eyes betrayed his anxiety.  

At first the Mountie did not seem to register his presence.  He continued
to stare at the paper in front of him - then he closed his eyes and laid
down the pen he had been holding so tightly.  The sheet was headed
"Wedding List."  There was a difficult pause.  

"Sure Ray, thank you kindly for the offer.  I'll just get my coat." Fraser
suddenly seemed to come to life, to appreciate the unspoken sentiment
behind Ray's visit.  Ray smiled broadly and pulled his gloves back on.	

"C'mon then Benny, my treat."  

Fraser had very little appetite.  Ray was nervous, afraid of leading the
conversation into dangerous waters.  Finally Fraser pushed his plate
away.  He had hardly touched his meal.	

"I'm sorry Ray, I'm just not hungry.  I guess..." Fraser's voice trailed
off.  His attention had been caught by a figure looking in the window, a
very familiar figure.   He frowned.  What *was* Meg doing here?  He did an
internal double-take.  What on earth was wrong with her?  She continued to
peer  through the glass searching  intently through the customers.  

Ray was first to react.  He ploughed through the crowded diner trailing
Fraser's apologies in his wake.  But the Mountie reached Meg first all the
same.  He wanted to ask what was wrong but the words faltered on his
lips.  She looked smaller, weaker, as if all her inner strength had
dissolved.  He reached out automatically and took her hand in his.  The
gesture unnerved her completely and she pulled away as if stung.  She
looked instead at Ray Vecchio standing helplessly by his friend.  

"Detective Vecchio" she said softly, almost  whispering, "may I speak to
you - in private?"  

Ray's eyes widened and he half turned towards the Mountie who nodded his
stone-faced assent.  

"Sure, what about  my car?  Benny, if you'll wait in Delaney's.."  With a
curt nod the Mountie strode back into the diner. 
    

Ray led the way to his car which was parked some little distance away,
legally for once.  As he walked along his mind raced through possibilities
<I do *not* want to do this. Whatever it is, it's gotta be pretty bad. 
Must be if she doesn't want Benny involved.   What if she doesn't want me
to tell him?  What if I can't?  He ran his hand nervously over his closely
cropped head and opened the car door for Meg.  

She sat hunched against the green leather.  Her eyes focussed on the
horizon.  

"First of all, what I'm going to say - I  do not want you to involve
Constable Fraser.  Is that agreed Vecchio?"  

"But Frasier..." protested Ray, his heart sinking fast.  

"Is that agreed?"  

Ray bounced his hands in frustration off the driving wheel.  

"Listen..Benny.."  

"Is that agreed?" Thatcher's voice seemed to get back some of its steely
character.  

"Agreed" sighed Ray.  

There was a long pause.  Then she began.  It turned out that she was 
being stalked.  That she had been stalked relentlessly for approximately 3
weeks now.  A week after her engagement party she had returned alone to
her apartment to find the first in a series of  "love  notes" pinned to a
parcel containing a set of very expensive silk lingerie.  The "gift" had
disturbed her but she had carried out her own discreet though fruitless
investigations rather than involve the  police.  An intensely private
person Meg felt quite unable to hand over control of her life to
outsiders.  

However the situation had escalated out of control with each note becoming
subtly more threatening, more controlling.  From the detailed contents she
knew she was being followed.  

Meg stopped and glanced quickly at Ray sitting silently beside her.  He
had not interrupted once.  She could feel his disapproval of her actions,
yet also his sympathy.	

"This morning" she continued passing her hand over her face wearily, "I
had to go back to my apartment to collect some papers I'd been working
on.  I needed them urgently.  I had to go  back for them myself, I
couldn't risk anyone finding anything."  By *anyone* Ray knew she meant
Benny.	

"I found this when I  got  there."  She opened her small black handbag
clumsily and produced a crumpled envelope, a couple of photographs and an
equally crumpled note.	

The first photograph showed Meg and her fiancé coming out of a restaurant,
Raul's arm curled protectively round her shoulders, the second showed her
glancing up at Fraser standing guard outside the Consulate.  The camera
had captured the tender look of a lover.  

The note read simply:  

"Is there something he should know?"  

Ray frowned, Meg's reaction seemed out of proportion to her current state.
 

"Raul's body was found at 10.30 this morning.  They say he shot himself. 
He left no note."  

Three simple statements of  fact uttered in her usual ultra-disciplined
manner.  

"Do you want me to tell Frasier about Raul?" said Ray finally, "I mean
about his death.  I can do that for you."  

Meg nodded silently, her eyes were suddenly very bright and she tilted her
head as if trying to will the unshed tears back.  

"Look you need to get some rest from all this.  You can't go back home. 
Listen I know we don't get on too well but you could stay at my place.  I
mean it's not just me - there's ma and ..." Ray was conscious of babbling
but  his offer was sincerely  meant.  

"Thank you detective.  I'd like that."  Meg was bone weary and the thought
of resting in a safe place was too appealing to pass up.  

Ray pulled out his mobile and dialled: 
 "Hey Lynda, it's Ray Vecchio.  Listen can you tell get the Mountie to the
phone?  Thanks."  

"Frasier, it's me..Listen I can't pick you up just yet, somethin's come
up.  You probably better not wait."  Ray listened to Fraser's end of the
conversation.  

"No Benny I can't. Sorry.  See you later."  

"Thank you." said Meg.	

"Yeah" said Ray, putting the Riv into gear and pulling away with rather
more care than the car was used to. 
    

Telling Fraser was every bit as difficult as Ray had anticipated,
especially given Meg's instructions.  Fraser sat at his desk impassively
as Ray stepped through his carefully rehearsed outline of events.  As Ray
ground to a halt Ben  simply said "Understood" and bent his head to his
work, which appeared to be addressing yet more envelopes.  

Ray wanted desperately to say more so he stood there racking his  brains
until  he suddenly noticed what the Mountie was actually doing.  

"Benny!" Ray leaned forward and grabbed a half -written wedding
invitation.  

Without a word Fraser swept the rest of the invitations, written and
unwritten, into the wastepaper basket by the side of his  desk. 
    

Meg lay on Franchesca's rose-patterned bed, sinking slowly as it softly
contoured her aching body.  Mrs Vecchio had been very kind, but had
realised just when to back off.  The house was quiet for once.  Frannie
had gone as bridesmaid to one of her girlfriends in Maine and even Maria
and family had gone on vacation, the details of which had only dimly
penetrated.  

The trouble with silence was that you filled the space with your own
thoughts.  Fraser's reaction to Raul's death seemed to be more important
to her than her own.   Why?  Yet she was afraid to find out.  Maybe she
was scared to examine her relationship with Raul too closely.  He had been
intelligent and kind, thoughtful and gentle.  But had she loved him or had
she given in to his need for her?  Had she simply been escaping her
feelings for Ben?  On seeing the photograph she had realised as surely
Vecchio  how strong these were.  She knew she was avoiding the manner of
Raul's death but felt no acceptance of what she had been told.  Surely
Raul hadn't committed suicide because of her, that was just - ridiculous. 
She twisted away, her body echoing her mind. 
    

Ray entered Meg's apartment cautiously.  He was on edge, half-expecting
the stalker to have gone one step further and be lying in wait.  The door
swung wide and he reached for the lights, gun in hand.	

"Geez Benny!" he exploded, waving the weapon wildly at the Mountie sitting
quietly on the plush velvet sofa.  "I coulda shot you man,  what do you
think you're doin' here?" 
 "And you Ray?" rejoindered the Mountie impassively.  

Ray tucked his gun away and looked quickly round the room trying to figure
out if there was any "incriminating"  evidence.  Nothing was obvious yet
perhaps Benny had found something.  He would wing it until he knew for 
certain.   On the other hand, why was Fraser sitting in wait for his
superior officer - in the dark yet?  Thank God Meg hadn't insisted on
going home.  

"Inspector Thatcher asked me to get some things for her..." was the truth
and the best Ray could come up with, so he tried to go on the attack
before Benny started asking more awkward questions.  

"So why are you here Benny?  You trying to give the Dragon Lady a
conniption?"  

Fraser frowned.  In all truth he didn't know why he was here.  He had set
off from the Consulate, walking aimlessly it seemed until he had landed up
outside Meg's apartment.  The door was unlocked but he had found no-one
inside and apparently nothing disturbed.  So he had waited unable somehow
to move from the place.  

He ignored Ray's question.  "Where is she Ray?" he said softly.  Ray's
eyes slid to the right, then he looked carefully into the distance. 
Benton's heart thudded painfully in his chest.  Had something happened to
Meg?  

"Ray!..tell me.."  

Ray took a deep breath and steeled himself for a fight with his best
friend.  

"I'm sorry Benny, I can't.  She's alright though.  She just doesn't want
anyone, you know bothering her at a time like this."  

"And I'm *anyone*" said Fraser dully, looking down, his shoulders slumped
in resignation.  

"Nah, Benny I didn't mean it like that.." pleaded Ray "but I promised. 
You understand what a promise means don't ya?"	

"Sure Ray.  I understand." echoed Fraser despondently.	

Ray swallowed.  Fraser didn't seem to want to push it.  Still how could he
carry out Meg's instructions with Benny here?  He had to get him out of
the way.  

"Hey Benny, can I give you a lift home?"  This seemed the best option.  He
could return to  the apartment later.  

"I think someone was in here Ray.  The door was open when I got here."	

"Uh yeah, well nothing looks disturbed, did you find something?"  Ray
tried to keep his voice neutral.  "Maybe the Inspector forgot to lock up."
he offered lamely.  

Fraser's eyes widened at this.  Did Ray take him for a fool?  Just what 
was Ray trying to hide?  

"Excuse me Ray, I think I'll walk home." Benton suited his actions to his
words and left quickly, almost brushing his friend aside.  

Ray groaned inwardly.  How was he going to keep Meg's secret and Fraser's
friendship? Slipping his hand into his pocket he retrieved the key to
Meg's writing  bureau.  It was a delicate pretty little key more feminine
than he had imagined her taste to be.  He got up and walked reluctantly
across the room to the elegant walnut figured desk.  Inside he found a
bundle of letters and envelopes, neatly stacked with Fraser-like
precision.  Ray snapped on a pair of thin rubber gloves and produced an
evidence bag into which he deposited the stalker's missives.  

He was just about to clear out when a sudden thought struck him.  In all
probability the stalker had paid another visit.  But what had he left this
time?  Of course he could have been lying in  wait for Meg and made his
escape when disturbed...hmm...Benny might have looked over the place, but
being easily embarrassed not to say excessively polite he wasn't going to
examine certain places too closely.  Ray figured since he was there he
might as well search a little more  thoroughly... 
    

A stab of pain startled him.  He looked stupidly down at the hypodermic
needle sticking out of his glove.  He pulled it out quickly and watched
mesmerised as a small blob of blood welled up on his palm.  A  brightly
coloured gift tag hung from the syringe.  It swung incongruously as his
hand began to tremble.  Somehow Ray managed to make his eyes focus on the
message - one word - * SURPRISE!*  

Ray swallowed, his mouth was dry and he felt very lightheaded.  Had he
been drugged - or worse? There was a small amount of dark liquid left.  He
thought about driving but figured he was too stressed out to try it, drugs
or no drugs.  He put the syringe down on Meg's dressing table.  He caught
his breath as it rolled almost to the edge, its movement reflected in the
mirror  behind.  

After calling himself in as an emergency Ray returned to the front room
and sank into the sofa, trying and failing miserably, to take his mind off
his predicament.  Should he call his mother and tell her?  No.  He decided
against this - he did not want his mother to worry if it was nothing nor
did he want her to remember a conversation with her son as he was dying. 
Ray shuddered at the thought and crossed himself reflexively.  Father
Behan then?  Last rites over the phone.  <Raymond this is way too morbid. 
You are *not* dyin' here.  Benny would never forgive you.  Besides pa
would probably beat you up. 
    

A loud insistent banging on the door of his apartment roused Benton from
uneasy nightmare ridden dreams.  As he roused to consciousness the exact
details  escaped him but the feeling of dread was strong.  Nevertheless he
leapt quickly and efficiently to the door.  

"Mr Mustafi!  What's wrong?"  Fraser could see immediately that his
neighbour had bad news to impart.  

"Constable Fraser, your friend - Detective Vecchio -  I just got a call
from Lieutenant Walsh.  He's in Cook County..."  

Fraser managed to stammer out a brief "Thanks" before retreating back into
his room.  He dressed quickly even though his hands were shaking.  Dief
studied him anxiously from his recumbent position  by the window.  

"He *will* be alright Dief." said Fraser, trying to calm himself down as 
much as his wolf.  "You know Ray he..." He stopped suddenly, transfixed by
a sudden awful memory of Louis's funeral.  Dief got up and licked his
hand.  Ben managed a half-smile of encouragement and left the apartment at
speed. 
    

"I am not a pincushion!" muttered Ray rather testily to the small
red-haired nurse taking what seemed to be the last drop of blood he
possessed.  The nurse smiled cheerfully and continued.  Ray's mother sat
looking upset in one of the chairs by his bedside.  The other chair was
occupied by a white-faced Inspector Thatcher.  

"Where's the doctor?  When are we going to get the results?" Mrs Vecchio
was asking all the questions Ray would have liked to without looking too
anxious in front of his mother.  He had to be strong for her.  

"Doctor Mallard will be with you shortly." responded the nurse and
departed with Ray's blood samples.  

"I'm sorry.." began Meg, but she was cut off by Ray.  "Nah, it's OK, I
shoulda been more careful.  It's probably nothing.  I mean.." he lowered
his voice "this guy's a real sicko, he's probably got other plans..." Ray
glanced at Meg's stricken face and shut up.  His mother leaned over and
took his hand giving it a brief squeeze.  Ray grinned briefly.	

"Thanks ma, I needed that."  

There  was a soft tap at the door and the red-headed nurse popped her head
round.	

"Excuse me" she said apologetically, "there's a gentleman outside
insisting on seeing 
 Detective Vecchio.  He says his name is Fraser...Benton Fraser?"  

Ray winced.  His mother beamed.  The Inspector half rose from her seat.  

"I have to go, I have to finish a report for Ottowa on our recent rodent
infestation; they seem keen on reviewing the smallest detail of  consular
operations.  I'll call back later."  It was an excuse for Mrs Vecchio's
benefit and Ray knew it.  He nodded to the nurse.  

"It's OK he's a friend, I'd be glad to see him." He turned to Meg.  

"Listen, Call Lieutenant Welsh.  He'll help..." Ray paused and gave her
another chance - "..or you could stay.."  

Meg hesitated for a fraction of a second then shook her head.  "I'll call 
your Leftenant."  This was the best compromise Ray was going to get from
her.  She left quickly, hoping to avoid Benton and almost ran smack into
him.  

"Sorry" she said briefly and hurried on.  

Fraser stood transfixed for a moment, unsure as to whether he should
pursue her or see Ray and find out just what was wrong.  He finally turned
back and entered  Ray's  room with some trepidation.  

"Ah Benton!" greeted Mrs Vecchio, obviously very pleased to see him.  

"Hiya Benny." offered  Ray.  He looked  pale and his knuckles showed white
as  his hands clutched the bedcover.  Other than that though Fraser could
see nothing obviously wrong with his friend.  

"Ma, I gotta talk to Frasier.  You should get something to eat -  please?"
 

Mrs Vecchio rose and patted her son's cheek.  "Later, caro." she said
softly.  She nodded to Benton  and left.  

Fraser's stomach twisted as he waited for Ray to speak but Ray leaned
heavily into his pillow, a sudden fatigue overtaking him.  He seemed lost
in thought and his eyes slowly began to close.  Something was  wrong.  

"Ray!  Ray speak to me.." Benton leaned over and  touched Ray's hand.  He
felt for his pulse.  It seemed to be weakening steadily.  

The door opened behind him and Fraser jumped back startled.  The name
badge read "Dr Mallard", rather short and bouncy with close cropped sandy
hair.  She had entered the room with a "bedside smile" but this  rapidly
disappeared as she assessed her patient's condition.  

Fraser  was shooed out of the room, still none the wiser as to Ray's
condition or the reason behind it.  A crash team appeared out of nowhere
and Ben retreated down the corridor to the visitor's lounge.  He found
Ray's mother sitting on her own looking forlornly at a cold cup of coffee.
 

"Mrs Vecchio"  

"Fraser.  Sit.  Tell me how's my Raymond?"  She patted the seat beside her
and Ben did as he was told.  

"I'm sorry but I don't know anything more about Ray's condition.  Have
you..?  Do you..?" He was unable to continue, dreading the reply.  

Mrs Vecchio took a long draught of her coffee and grimaced.  

"All I know is that my son injured himself with a poisoned syringe. 
But....I'm sure *your* Inspector has something to do with it.  He was at
her apartment when it happened.  Raymond was letting her stay at our
house.  He said she needed to be safe.... he didn't explain why." 
    

Ray's nurse approached Mrs Vecchio alarming  them both.  

"Sorry" she apologised.  "I thought you would like to know that your son's
condition has stabilised.  If you'd like to follow me, Dr Mallard would
like to discuss his prognosis with you somewhere more private."  

"Benton, please come with me."  Ray's mother held out her hand to Ben who
took it gratefully. 
    

However it turned out that Dr Mallard was still unable to predict the
toxicity of the poison in Ray's system since the lab had as yet been
unable to identify the toxin involved.  However Ray had regained
consciousness and seemed much brighter.  The doctor was happy to let his
mother continue her vigil at his bedside.  It was possible that the acute
episode he had just sustained would be the only major effect.  Dr Mallard
tended towards an optimism which Fraser at least did not fully share. 
    

"Constable Fraser!" Benton turned quickly, he recognised Constable
Turnbull's voice.  

"Uh good, I found you." As ever Turnbull was master of the obvious.  

"It's Inspector Thatcher.  She's been arrested.  You've got to get back to
the Consulate, there's an Association of Canadian Rodential Exterminators
delegation from Ottowa due at 5.30..."	

"?!Arrested?!"	

"Yes, for murder I think."  

"You think??"  

Fraser closed his eyes, this was *not* happening.  

"You had better get back to the Consulate  then Constable."  

"Me?!" Turnbull considered.  "Hmm well, yes of course, I'd be glad to
assist in any way.   Thank you kindly Constable Fraser."  With that he
turned on his smartly polished heels and marched away.	

"Benton you had better find out about your Inspector.  I know how much she
means to you and I believe she cares for you too.  Here..." Mrs Vecchio
fumbled in her capacious purse and handed over Ray's mobile.  "I'll ring
you on this if there's any news."  

"Thank you Mrs Vecchio.  I'm sure it's some kind of misunderstanding. 
I'll be back as soon as I can.  Please tell Ray I...Please tell Ray I
need..." 
 "Understood" said Ray's mother. 
    

Fraser assumed correctly that Meg was being held at the 27th  precinct. 
Unfortunately Lieutenant Welsh was out of his office having a heart to
heart with his Commander and he had left orders that no-one, and that
*meant no-one*, would be allowed to see her.  So Benton sat himself in his
usual seat by Ray's desk, fighting a compulsive impulse to tidy it,
checking every so often that Ray's mobile was still working and trying to
will his life back on track. 
    

"Hello Constable Fraser."  Dr Pearson's appearance  was unexpected.  

"I'm sorry about Detective Vecchio.." she stopped abruptly at Fraser's
horrified reaction.  *Not* the best choice of words from a Coroner.  

"No, not that.  He's OK as far as I know.  I'm here to see Lieutenant
Welsh about the Gonsalez case."  

For once Benton couldn't help interrupting.  "Raul Gonsalez.  Possible
suicide - or murder?"  

Dr Pearson's eyes widened.  "Yes, that's right.   But it was neither.  I
performed the autopsy myself and in my opinion his  death  was purely
accidental.  People can be so  careless with guns."  

"Yes." Fraser agreed automatically, thinking of Meg.  She would
be...relieved?  He frowned, had she been held for Raul's murder then?  

Lieutenant Welsh interrupted just then, beckoning Dr Pearson to his
office.  He was obviously  in a foul humour and Ben took the hint to stay
where he was.  

Some minutes later the doctor exited Welsh's office, nodded briskly to
Benton and left rapidly.  The Lieutenant stood by the entrance of his
office watching her  go.  Soon however his eyes lit on the Mountie still
sitting patiently by Vecchio's desk.  

"Constable, if I could have a word.."  He nodded Fraser into his office.  

Fraser stood to attention in front of the Lieutenant, somewhat ill at
ease.  

"Take a seat Constable.  There are some things I think we need to discuss,
your Inspector Thatcher being one of them."  Welsh reached into his desk
drawer, pulled out the bundle of  letters, still in Ray's evidence bag,
and handed them over.  

Ben studied the letters in silence.  After the initial shock he began to
analyse paper, ink handwriting, content, and of course smell and taste, as
thoroughly as he would for any "normal" criminal investigation.  Not that
many of the cases he seemed to get involved in would be classified as
such.  

"I should tell you Inspector Thatcher was most reluctant to share this
information with you Constable.  However I managed to persuade her that
your *special skills* could be of some value in the investigation." The
Lieutenant leaned forward, lowering his voice.	

"I'm sure  you will appreciate how difficult this has been for her in her
present condition.  Uh, you know...?" 
    

"I was aware that she has been under a considerable amount of stress
recently." said Fraser not entirely sure what was being said.  

Welsh coughed awkwardly, leaned forward and continued almost in a whisper
-  

"You mean you didn't know that the Inspector is how shall I put
it..enceinte?"	

<Ancient?! For a moment Fraser had difficulty processing the word.  Then
it struck him.	

"She's p..pregnant!?"  

"Shh" shushed the Lieutenant looking round nervously, as if Meg might
overhear.  

"I shouldn't have told you, but yes, yes she's pregnant.  Apparently her
gynaecologist is slightly concerned about her blood pressure and..." Welsh
trailed off, aware he was gossiping, aware also that Fraser looked as if
he had just been sucker punched by the Incredible Hulk.  

Welsh drew back.  "You won't tell her I told you?"  

Fraser shook his head.  That was the last thing he would be able to
discuss with Meg.  

"Do you want to see her?"  

"Does she want to see me?"  

Welsh nodded.  "Yes.  You're  to meet her in her office at 3.00 p.m. "on
the dot".  Good luck Constable."  

"Thank you sir."  

It was quarter to 3.  Fraser exited the building at speed. 
    

Fraser made record time.  It was 3 minutes to the hour	

"Ah Constable Turnbull.  I have a meeting with Inspector Thatcher.  She's
expecting me.  Do you know if she's in her office?"  

"I'm sorry no.  I am unsure as to the Inspector's location at this present
time.  Would you care to wait?"  

Ten past  3 came and went.  Turnbull was driving Fraser slowly insane and
*where* was Meg?  

The door opened.  Fraser half rose from his seat.  At last!  

It was Ray.  

"Hiya Benny!  Welsh told me I could find you here.  How's the Inspector?" 
Ray looked remarkably cheerful for someone just back from the dead.  

"Oh it's you Ray." was all Fraser could manage.  His disappointment showed
clearly in his face.  He pulled Ray's phone from his pocket and handed it
back.  

"*I'm glad to see you're alive Ray*" said Ray in a hurt tone taking his
mobile.  

"Sorry Ray.  I don't mean...Inspector Thatcher said she would meet me at
3.00 p.m. and it's.." he checked his father's watch "12 minutes past now. 
I *am* happy to see you're feeling better."  Fraser shot Ray a quick
apologetic smile.  

"Well gee Benny.  She's not *that* late."  

"Actually" interrupted Constable Turnbull who had been eavesdropping. 
"Inspector Thatcher is exceedingly particular about her timekeeping."  

"He's right Ray."  Fraser glanced ceilingwards and sighed.  "For once" he
added sotto voce.  

A highly unpleasant scenario began to play in Ray's mind:  

"Er Benny,  I'm sorry but well, you know about the stalker..do ya think
he's got hold of her?"	

"Stalker?" queried Turnbull.  He shut up quickly.  Constable Fraser had
that *look* on his  face. 
    

Half an hour earlier:  

Meg started up the Consulate stairs.  Her steps were leaden.  She was not
looking forward to her forthcoming interview with Fraser.  How could she
look him in the face.  He would have read all the stalker's letters, all
the minutiae of her life exposed, all the sick rambling fantasies.  She
shuddered.  

"Hello Meg." said a familiar voice behind her.	

She jumped.  <This was no good.  She was way too nervy  She turned slowly
trying to show she was in control.  

"Why Henri, I didn't  realise you were coming to Chicago."  She tried to
keep her tone polite and distant.  

A self-satisfied smile played across the porcine features of RCMP Counsel
Henri Cloutier.  He stretched out his hand and caught her arm.	

Meg tried to shake him off, rather surprised at his action, but he held
her arm tighter and began to draw  her down the stairs.  

"Oh I think you're coming with me, my dear.  After all you wouldn't want
something to happen to Constable Fraser would you?  Hypothetically
speaking of course."  Cloutier was at his most unctuous.  

A horrible realisation dawned.  Henri Cloutier was her stalker!  Meg's
heart thudded painfully in her chest.  Had Cloutier kidnapped Ben or
worse?  She realised his pride had been wounded during the Eggman case but
she had thought she had successfully *deflected* his attentions - with
Benton's help of course.  The way he had tried to lie for her was a
particularly fond memory, and he did make a good omelette, if slightly
burnt.	

Against her better judgement, but fearing for Ben's safety, she allowed
herself to be guided into Cloutier's car.  

They drove for 20 minutes in complete silence until finally Meg could
stand it no longer.  

"What have you done to Constable Fraser?"  

"Why nothing.  I presume your precious *Constable* is still waiting for
you at the Consulate.  I'm sure he was quite punctual.  3.00 p.m. *on the
dot* wasn't it?"  

He had bugged her!  Just how much of her life had he eavesdropped on - her
conversation with Ray? with Lieutenant Welsh?  

"I hear congratulations are in order.  I presume the late Dr Gonsalez was
the father?"  

Meg flinched, but refused to answer.  She was as furious as she'd ever
been.  How *dare* this oily creep invade her life again!  Her eyes
narrowed as she began to plot her revenge.  

The car ground to a halt in front of The Whinging Pomme, a new
French-Australian vegetarian restaurant.  Incredibly Cloutier appeared to
be taking her to dinner.  

"This will make up for our *interrupted* meal, my dear.  I'm sure you'll
enjoy the food and of course, the company.  Do try the Rotisserie de Roo,
it's delicious...Of course I'm sure you'd be extremely disappointed in
Fricassie de Fraser?"  

Point taken Meg accompanied Cloutier to the table.  

The meal continued in a leisurely fashion.  Cloutier took great pleasure
in tormenting his "hapless" victim, gusting puffs of his foul smelling
cigar in her direction.  

Meg could stand it no longer.  She pushed her chair back and half rose
from her seat.	

"And just where do you think you're going?" 
 "I have to go to the Powder Room.  I assume you'll allow me that
courtesy?"  

Cloutier gave a smug smile.  He felt sure he had her just where he
wanted.  As long as she thought Fraser was in danger she wasn't going to
do anything *stupid*.  

"Of course my dear.  Do hurry back.  I do so enjoy *your* company."  

Meg  hurried to the Rest Room, still trying to figure a way round her
predicament.  

"Ya know, that guy Les really bugs the heck outta me!  Whaddya think -
this blue polish go with my uniform?"  Two of the waitresses had
apparently decided to make use of the public facilities.  

<Bugs! - was she still being bugged by Cloutier?  Yeck, scratch that
thought..still.  It must be on or in something she wore all the time.  But
what?  

"Hey Jeannie ya got the time on ya?"  

"Sorry Nesta, no can do.  Hey lady you got the time on ya?"  The blonder
of the two turned to  Meg.  

"Er yes, it's 4.21." she said slowly, realising that her watch was the
most likely candidate for the device.  She quickly leaned over a sink  and
turned on both taps to full.  Well it seemed to work in the movies.  

"Thanks lady" said Jeannie looking curiously at her.  

Meg took off her watch and held it out, hand closed over the dial,
hopefully muffling sound even more.  

"Listen, I'd like to play a practical joke on my friend.  I'll give you
this watch if you'll loan me your uniform.  Cloutier had already taken her
purse from her.  

Jeannie and Nesta exchanged glances.  Jeannie shrugged.  

"Sure, this is my last day in this joint anyways.  Keep your watch
though.  You got a really neat suit there."  

<OK.  Cloutier might get suspicious quickly if the waitresses continued to
chat about her behind her back	

"Here take my tray" said Nesta.  

"Thank you kindly" said Meg struggling somewhat into Jeannie's well
contoured uniform.  The watch went "in a safe place".  

Meg hurried past Cloutier who was exchanging trenchant views on the
quality of the wine with one of the  waiters.  He ignored her completely. 


She went right to the Manager's Office and strode in.  Surprisingly it was
empty, but there was a phone.  She dialled the Consulate quickly, hoping
that Turnbull wouldn't let her down this time.	

"Deputy Liaison Officer"  

<Ben!  It was Ben!  That lying conniving swine!! 
 With help on the way, Meg felt entitled to a little revenge, which
contrary to popular belief is a dish best served piping hot.  At least in
Cloutier's case.  

Marching into to the kitchen she scanned for a suitable dish.  

<Ah, perfect  

"Shark flambe Sir?  Oooops!!  Clumsy me!  Sooo sorey." 
    

Not too much later...  

"Well."  

"Well.."  

Fraser took Meg's hands in his.  This time she held on in a comfortingly
tight grip.  

"Au revoir Ben." said Meg smiling up at him.  "I'll be back in about three
months.  I'm taking an extended leave of absence till Cloutier's trial. 
I'm going to stay with my sister Mary.  I need some time to myself - to
come to terms with things.  A baby's going to mean big changes in my
life.  But I'll be back.  If you can wait that long I think you and I,
well..you know...could try..?" she ended hopefully.  

Ben raised her hands to his lips and kissed each one softly.  

"I can wait." 
    

THE END