All Due South characters belong to Alliance.

This story is rated PG. Very minor spoilers for The Bounty Hunter.

As usual, thank you, Linda.

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Just One Look

by Ruthie Biermann

He's givin' me that same Mountie disapprovin' look he gave me when I didn't help that bounty hunter chick run a plate cuz of the 'blue flu'. I hate that look. I should do it ta him some time, and I would too.....if I only knew how.

"Fraser, I told ya I'm too busy ta go runnin' in a race with you this weekend." I sweep my hands over my desk to make my point. "Look at all this paperwork I got piled up here. Welsh gave me an ultimet.... ultimater....he said I better get it done or else."

He's still givin' me that look. I wanna kick 'im in the head.

"Ray, it's for a good cause. The more people who participate, the more money they can raise for the local homeless shelters."

"Do not do that, Fraser. Do not do that to me." I shake my head and try to give him that same disapproving look...maybe he learned it at Mountie school.

"Do what, Ray?"

Now he gives me that tilted head, innocent puppy dog look. I mean it. I'm gonna kick 'im in the head.

"That, Fraser. What yer doin' with yer face and yer head...and makin' me feel all guilty."

"Ray, you cannot blame your guilt on me, and I have no idea what you're talking about as far as what I'm doing with my face and my head."

He knows. I gotta get a picture of that. Then I'll practice, and one of these days I'm gonna spring it on 'im and, wham, he's gonna do what I want 'im ta do.

"So, Ray, will you accompany me?"

"Yeah, okay, Fraser. Cuz it's fer charity and everything, not because of that." I point to his face.

He tilts his head the other way and opens his mouth to speak.

"Don't say anything, Fraser. I already said I'd do it. Now lemme get some work done."

He gives me a big smile. Can't help but smile back at him. How does he do that?

"That's wonderful, Ray. You can pick me up at the Consulate tomorrow morning at seven-thirty."

"Oh jeez, isn't it dark at seven-thirty?"

"Of course not, Ray, you know that." He smiles again. "I'll see you tomorrow." He turns to leave.

"Hey Frase, while yer here, maybe you can help me with all these case files." I try that tilted head, innocent, puppy dog 'help me please' look on 'im.

"I'm sorry, Ray, but I really have to get back to the Consulate."

I guess I gotta practice.

***************

I pull up at the Consulate around seven-twenty and there he is waitin' by the gate with Dief. He's wearing his Mountie sweats. I look down at what I'm wearing. Sweats, yeah, but compared to Fraser's they look more like my mom's dustin' rags. But, I feel better today. Got some work done yesterday, and I practiced in front of the mirror last night with that puppy face. I think I finally got it down so I can get Frase to help me with the rest of the case work tomorrow. I know tomorrow's Sunday, but Welsh ain't gonna wanna hear excuses when he asks me for the files.

Fraser's comin' to the car and I lean over and unlock the door.

"Good morning, Ray. How are you?" He asks me while he lets Dief into the back seat.

Gives me that big smile again. I smile back, this time cuz I want to.

"Hey, Frase. Good. How 'bout you?" I turn around and give Dief a few pats.

"Very good, thank you, Ray. Are you prepared for considerable physical exercise this morning?"

"Sure, Frase. I figure it can't be any harder than boxin' a few rounds." We take off into the empty streets. Who's nuts enough to drive around at seven-thirty on a Saturday morning? One Chicago flatfoot and his unhinged Mountie partner, that's who.

"Well, Ray, this will be somewhat more strenuous than a boxing match, as you'll be in constant motion, and the race is, after all, a half marathon."

"Half marathon? So, what's that? Five miles or somethin'?" I ask, wishing I had a cup of coffee.

"Why, no, Ray, a half marathon is 21.0975 kilometers."

I look over at him. "Can ya be more exact, Fraser?"

He looks back at me, innocent puppy look. "Well, no, Ray."

I shake my head and turn back to watchin' the road. "Okay, Fraser, what's that in American?"

"13.10938 miles."

"Uh, what?" I look back at him, expecting ta see him with his goofy 'I just made a joke' expression, but he's serious.

"Didn't I tell you, Ray?" He asks, again with that innocent puppy dog face, but this time he doesn't tilt his head. It still works.

"No, Fraser, you didn't." I try to sound annoyed, but I'm not. I'm pretty sure I can swing it.

"Well, I'm sorry, Ray. Do you feel you'll have a problem?"

"No. Do you feel I'll have a problem?"

He doesn't answer. I look over at him and he's staring out the windshield.

"Fraser."

"Oh, sorry, Ray. Well, the fact that you haven't been training can be a factor....."

I interrupt. "So yer sayin' you don't think I can do it?" Now I am annoyed.

"No, no, of course not, Ray. You're.....you're relatively fit,." he says. I see him eyeing me up and down out of my perf.....peripher.....side vision.

"Relatively, Fraser? Relative ta what?"

He looks back out the windshield. "Well, relative to the average man your age."

I don't say anything for a minute. He doesn't think I can do it. Then I speak. "Okay, Fraser, we'll see how fit I am."

"Yes, I'm sure we will."

***************

We get there and I park my car on the grass next to the sign that says "No Parking". Of course, Fraser has to point that out to me. There he goes, stating the obvious again. I tell him I got a permit to park on the grass. He gives me another one of them Mountie looks, this one says, "of course you do Ray, but I don't believe a word you're saying and you know it." That's another one I gotta practice.

We walk over to where all the runners are warmin' up. Damn, there's a lot of 'em. Actually, it's nice to know so many people came out fer charity. I guess the weather helped. It's a cold, dry day. I'm startin' ta feel really good about this.

"We need to register and obtain numbers, Ray," Fraser says to me, and I follow him to the tables.

I can't help but notice there's a lotta good lookin' women here. Now I'm feelin' really good. Fraser and I sign in and get our numbers. He pins the paper on his sweatshirt and then takes my number and pins it on me. I'm too busy eyeing all the talent to really notice. I look over to the sidelines and see I'm not alone...Dief found some cute, fluffy little mutt to cozy up to. Hmm, her owner's not bad either.

"Let's jog a little Ray, so we can warm up and then stretch," he says as he takes my arm and starts guiding me over to a clear spot.

"Hey, Frase, shouldn't we save our energy?" I wanna stay where the women...I mean, the people are.

"Ray, if you don't warm up and stretch, you can injure yourself," he says as he keeps pulling me.

I give in. So what else is new. "Okay, Fraser, whatever you say."

We start to jog slowly. I look over at Fraser and he's looking straight ahead, like he's concentratin'.

"Hey, Frase, gotta ask you somethin'."

"Yes, Ray." He glances over to me and then back straight ahead.

"I get the feelin' you don't think I could finish this race," I say, while I gracefully avoid a hole in the grass.

"Ray, we discussed this in the car. I feel your abilities are quite adequate."

I stop joggin'. He keeps goin'.

"Fraser!" I shout.

He doesn't stop but makes a U-turn and comes back.

"Yes, Ray."

"We're warm enough, let's stretch now."

"As you wish." We both start stretchin'.

"Okay, Frase, so what does that mean?"

"What does what mean?" He sits on the grass and keeps stretchin'. I sit down next to him.

"Adequate," I say.

"Adequate, Ray. It means satisfactory, sufficient, accepta....."

"I know what adequate means, Fraser. But what do you mean?

He looks at me like he doesn't wanna hurt my feelins', and then he rubs his thumbnail along his eyebrow like he always does when he's sorta nervous. "Well, what I mean is, you may very well finish the race but I'm quite certain......"

"That I can't beat you?" I ask, interruptin' him.

He smiles. I don't smile back. "Well, Ray, I've been training for this event for the past two weeks, so......"

"So....yer quite certain I can't beat you." I interrupt him again.

He stops stretchin' and looks at me, real serious, like I'm issuing him a challenge or somethin'. Which I am.

"Yes, Ray. I'm quite certain you can't."

So, the Mountie can't resist a challenge. "Okay," I say, "why don't we make this interesting?"

"If you're referring to a wager, Ray, gambling is illegal in the state of Illinois, unless, of course, we bet for candy....or air."

I smile. "'Kay, Frase. How 'bout this? If you win, I buy ya breakfast all next week."

"So, it would follow that if you win, I buy you...."

"Nope, I got somethin' else in mind fer you."

He raises an eyebrow. "And that would be?"

"If I win, you finish my case files tomorrow."

He smiles like he knows I'll be buying him breakfast fer a week.

"Fine, Ray, you have a bet." He leans forward and we shake on it.

I get up and hold out my hand to help him up. He takes it.

"Ray, you didn't really stretch very much. Don't you think....."

"Hey, Frase, you're helpin' the competition. I guess you really like the idea of doin' a shitload of paperwork on a Sunday."

"Language, Ray, and, no, I'm just concerned about you injuring yourself."

"Thanks, Frase, but I got it covered." I turn to walk over to the start line, callin' over my shoulder, "Ya might wanna think about sharpening all yer pencils tonight, Frase, cuz yer gonna need 'em tomorrow."

I glance back at Fraser and now he's giving me one of my favorite Mountie looks, the one that says, 'your ass is toast'.

***************

The runners are all lined up now, we measure about twenty people across and six people deep. They put the shorter runners up front, so me and Frase are almost in the last row, on opposite ends. I look over and see Dief, still occupied by Miss Fur Face, and her cute owner is with some guy. Oh well. Gotta get my mind on the race anyway. I look over to Frase...he's still stretchin'. I guess he feels me lookin' cuz he turns to face me and gives me a big smile. I gotta keep myself from smiling back, hafta rattle his cage....dammit, I'm grinnin' from ear to ear right back at 'im. I gotta find out how he does that.

The starter pistol goes off and in about sixty seconds we're seriously into the race. I'm feelin' good and strong. Can't help but notice that Fraser's about even with me. I gotta resist the urge to move ahead, gotta save my energy.

I'm pretty much still surrounded by other runners. I look around and I'm surprised to see all different age groups. The guy next to me looks about sixty-five....I pull ahead. Can't have a sixty-five year old guy even with me. I look over and find Fraser; he's just a little ahead of me. S'okay, I'm good with that. Now I look over to my left, and there's a kid about fifteen years old runnin' right next to me. He looks at me and makes the same face I did when I looked at the sixty-five year old. He pulls ahead of me. Oh jeez. I guess everything is relative.

We been running about half an hour now and the mile marker says four miles. I like that people are lined up on the sidelines cheerin' us on. There's even people holdin' out cups of water. At first I was just takin' them from good lookin' women, but now I'm startin' to feel it, so I'm grabbing cups from any outstretched hand. The sixty-five year old is still next to me. The fifteen year old dropped back about a mile ago. Can't help but smile at that. Fraser's still a little ahead of me. I guess he feels me starin' again cuz he turns his head back and finds me. This time he doesn't smile. Now the Mountie's tryin' to psych me out. Must mean he's gettin' tired. I wink at 'im and he winks back. Now I'm psyched out.

Now we been running a little over an hour. The last marker said nine miles. About four to go. The runners are really thinned out now. Most of them are back almost outta sight range. There's five of us all running about the same speed, including Fraser and the sixty-five year old. 'Cept I make sure I'm a little ahead of him. I'm really gettin' tired now. I look over to my left, and there's Dief, trottin' along with his new girlfriend, watchin' me and Fraser. Her owner's nowhere to be seen. I guess Dief charmed her into letting him take off with her pup.

I hear a woman on the right scream someone's name, "Billy", I think. I look over and see a little kid run right out in front of Fraser. He manages to avoid the kid but falls hard, on his knees. I run over to him with two other runners, the sixty-five year old and a woman. The fifth guy keeps goin'.

The little kid's okay, his mom runs out and grabs him.

Fraser's a different story. He's on all fours, his head down. Dief sprints over to him and starts licking his face.

"Frase, you okay?" I kneel down next to him. I can see blood and pieces of flesh on the concrete. I help him sit down on the ground.

"I'm fine, Ray," he says, and I see him wince from the pain. He looks at me. "You need to finish the race. The more miles you run, the more money you'll raise for charity."

"Ferget the race, Frase, yer hurt," I say.

His sweats are shredded at the knees and he's bleeding pretty bad. Some first aid guys arrive and start talkin' to him to make sure he's okay. Meanwhile, the other two runners who stopped take off again.

Fraser looks at me, trying to hide the pain. "Ray, please, I'll be fine. Finish the race." I recognize the look he's giving me. It's his sincere, 'I'm your friend and I'm asking you to do this because it's important' look. It's the same look he's given me before but not many other people.

"You sure yer gonna be okay, Frase?" I ask him, tryin' not to notice what the first aiders are doin' to 'im. Whatever it is, it hurts, cuz his face is crinkled up.

"Yes, Ray. Now go ahead."

I squeeze his shoulder and smile. He smiles back...sorta, I guess you'd call it a pained smile.

So, I take off. I got about four more miles ta go and I'm way behind the other three runners. Now I really gotta win this. I don't know why, but I hafta do it for Fraser. I think about our bet. The hell with that. All bets were off when Fraser got hurt.

I guess determination counts cuz I just passed the two runners who stopped to check on Frase, and I'm catchin' up to the first guy. I look over and there's Dief again, running with me, but he's alone now. I guess Fraser sent him to let me know he's okay.

We got one more mile to go. I'm really draggin' now. I'm neck and neck with the first runner. I take a good look at him now. He's about my age, and he's got a real determined look on his face. I grab some water and drink, tossing the paper cup aside. Okay, less than a mile to go. I take a deep breath and pick up speed. Gotta win. Thank god for dancin'...it's helpin' me get through this. I look back at the other guy who's starin' back at me with a stunned expression. I guess he thought he had it in the bag. Ain't gonna happen.

I got a quarter mile to go. The people on the sidelines are all screamin' now. They're cheerin' me on. Feels good even though I really feel like shit. I look over and the other runner's back and he's smilin'. It's not a Fraser smile, it's more like 'it ain't over yet so watch yer ass' kinda smile. I look away and really put everything into it. I'm breathin' real hard now, almost gaspin' fer air. My legs are startin' to cramp up bad. Okay, so Fraser was right...again. I shoulda stretched more. People are screamin'. Dief's barkin'. Almost there, about an eighth of a mile. The other guy's right next to me.

I look ahead. I see the finish line. I can see Fraser sitting next to it, his knees all bandaged up. He's watchin' me, looking worried, concerned. I guess he notices the pain in my face, damn those leg cramps. Our eyes meet and his expression changes. Now he's giving me that "do it for me, I believe in you" look. Damn, that Mountie's got more looks than anybody I ever met. So, I wink at him again, and he winks back. And I give it my all, and the guy next to me starts giving it his all. And the Mountie's lookin' at me and Dief is barkin' and the people are screamin'. I'm keepin' my eyes on Fraser. He's keepin' his eyes on me. Just a few more yards. Fraser calls my name and I'm there...I hit the ribbon and break it. People are cheerin' and runnin' up to me. Someone gives me a bottle of water and holds my arm up. I'm surrounded by people now. But my legs are killin' me and I gotta sit down. I manage to get over to where Fraser is and I collapse next to his chair, rubbing my aching calves. He lowers himself down to the ground and moves my hands over to my right calf while he massages the left. He smiles at me and I smile back. Cuz I want to.

***************

I'm sittin' at my desk with a cup of mud, uh, coffee, muddling through my case files. It's about nine-thirty in the morning and I been here about half an hour. No one else is here and I like it that way. I think about Fraser. I took him to the emergency room and they patched him up. Nothing too bad, just some deep scrapes. He should be good as new in a few weeks.

I wonder how he feels today cuz my calves and my knees are killin' me. Been popping aspirins like candy. I think about our bet. Fraser insisted that I won, and he wanted to come here today and work on my files. I said, no way, that all bets were off when he got hurt. He tried all kinds of looks on me, but I stood my ground, and I scored this time. I guess practicing Mountie looks in the mirror helped too.

I get up and go to the break room for more coffee. When I come back, I stop short. There's Fraser, sittin' in his chair in front of my desk, goin' over a file. He looks okay...guess he's been takin' the pain pills the doctor gave 'im. Dief runs up to me and I pet him for a second, but I'm more interested in yellin' at the stubborn Mountie. I hurry over to him.

"Fraser....."

He looks up at me and smiles.

I smile back. Didn't want to that time.

"What'cha doin' here, Fraser?" I ask, trying to sound ticked off. But I'm actually happy to see him.

"I came to assist you, Ray," he says, and he looks down at the file that's open in front of him.

I drop down in my chair which my knees tell me was a mistake and grab the file away.

"Frase, we talked about this. We pulled the plug on the bet when you fell. Ya don't hafta help me."

"I'm not here because of the bet, Ray. I'm here because you're my partner and my friend, and I want to help you with your case files."

"No, Frase. Yer hurt and you should be home restin'. Now take yer wolf and go home." I give him that Mountie disapproving look, the one I practiced fer almost an hour, the one that could make Dief drop a donut in mid bite.

"I knew you'd come around, Ray," he says, and takes the file back from me.

I guess I need a lot more practice.

The End

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