Rating: PG-13

Romance, Episode-related with possible spoilers ("Victoria's Secret", "All the Queen's Horses", and "Flashback"), PWP

Note: The tearing up of facial tissue is something that my ten-year old Tortoiseshell cat Amanda has done for many years. And yes, my favorite author is L.M. Montgomery (author of "Anne of Green Gables"). Since Fraser does seem to be very knowledgeable about all things Canadian, I figured he would at least have heard of LMM.
Title and lyrics from the Tara MacLean song "More", written by Tara MacLean and featured on her 1996 album Silence (Nettwerk W2-30106)

By CJD (e-mail address: avonleapei@hotmail.com)

* * *

Meg Thatcher opened the front door of her apartment with a reluctant Benton Fraser behind her.

"Fraser, I am not going to take 'no' for an answer. With the weather being so bad, it will take you forever to get a cab. And if you walk home, you'll catch your death from the cold."

"Actually, ma'am, that's a common misconception. . ."

"Fraser!," Meg cut him off sharply. "You will stay the night in my guest room and that's final. The Consulate's car will be just fine in the parking garage and you can return it in the morning."

By this time, Meg had turned on several lights. Ben had picked his superior officer up at her apartment building before when he'd driven her to official functions, as he had done this evening, but he had never been in her actual apartment before. The decor of it reminded him of her, softly feminine, yet strong at the same time.

"Please, make yourself at ho. . . Rilla!!"

Meg picked up several pieces of shredded facial tissue off the floor near the coffee table.

"I'm sorry, Fraser, my cat, she has this habit of pulling facial tissue out of the box and tearing it to bits. I've tried turning the boxes upside down when I'm not using them, but she somehow manages to turn them over."

"Rilla. That's an interesting name for a cat, ma'am. May I ask how you came up with it?"

Ben stood next to the dinning room table nearly at attention with his Stetson in front of him.

"I named her after a character in one of my favorite series of books from my childhood: the Anne of Green Gables series by L.M. Montgomery. Specifically after Rilla Blythe in the final book Rilla of Ingleside."

"Ah. I seem to remember seeing the name L.M. Montgomery in my grandparent's library but I don't remember ever reading any of her books."

Meg smiled gently.

"It doesn't surprise me. She is generally considered a children's and woman's author. Well. . .," Meg began walking toward a closed door. "Here is the guest room, there should be hangers in the closet if you want to hang up your tunic and your pants," Meg blushed slightly as an unprofessional thought of Fraser out of his pants popped into her mind, "uh, your uniform, and the bathroom is right next door. If you're hungry, please help yourself to anything in the kitchen. There are all sorts of snacks. And you can make coffee or hot chocolate if you would like."

"Thank you, ma'am." Ben was still slightly shocked that he was going to spend the night in his superior officer's apartment.

"It's no trouble, Fraser. My room's right down the hall. Let me know if you need anything."

She turned and Ben watched her walk down the hall to her room. At the door, she stopped, turned, and smiled at him before disappearing into the room and closing the door. Ben let out the breath he'd unconsciously been holding and entered the guestroom. He laid his Stetson on a chair and removed his Sam Browne belt, lanyard, and boots. He had just taken off his tunic, when he realized he was hungry. He also realized it would not be at all appropriate to go in to his superior officer's kitchen wearing only his boxers, especially when he was extremely attracted to said superior officer. So he kept his pants, suspenders, undershirt, and socks on as he headed to the kitchen for a snack.

Meanwhile, in her room, Meg had Tara MacLean's Silence album playing softly on her stereo as she began to change for bed. She'd taken off her shoes, pantyhose, and jewelry. She began to unzip her dress and had gotten it down a third of the way, when the zipper stuck. It would not budge. She could not get it to slide up or down and it was not down far enough for her to be able to slip out of the dress. *Damn, Damn, Damn. I suppose my only option besides sleeping in this dress it to get Fraser to unzip it for me.* The thought of Fraser's hands on her back made her blush.

Taking a deep breath, she opened the door and walked down the hall to the kitchen, where she could hear him.

"Fraser?"

"Yes, ma'am," he said as he looked up from a bag of chips.

"I'm really embarrassed about this and hate to bug you about it, but. . ." She turned her eyes from his before returning them. "But the zipper of my dress is stuck."

"Oh, let me see what I can do."

She turned her back towards him as he stood up from the small kitchen table. She shuddered slightly as she felt his hands on the already exposed skin of her back.

"I'm sorry. Are my hands cold?"

"No, no, there just fine."

They stood there silently for several minutes. Meg held her hair out of Ben's way as Ben gently moved fabric out of the way of the zipper's teeth.

"There we go. There was just some fabric caught in it."

As Ben slid the zipper down, he thrilled at the feeling of her skin against the back of his fingers and the sight of the back of her bra. When he picked her up at her apartment building that evening, she'd come into the lobby with her coat on her arm. He noticed immediately that she wore the same black cocktail dress she'd worn all those months ago when he had asked her out for coffee and she'd accepted.

Meg felt Ben's hands cease their movement and she knew he had finished his task. But she was not ready for it all to end. She wanted his large, strong hands on her bare skin. Without even thinking about what she was doing, Meg reached her hands back and laid them on Ben's thighs. She heard his breath quicken and knew he had gotten her not-so-subtle hint. Ben slid his hands up Meg's arms until he reached her shoulders. Once there, he gently pushed the dress off her shoulders and off her body as he bent to kiss her neck softly. Meg moaned softly and turned to face him, kicking the dress from around her feet as she did so. Ben took Meg into his arms and kissed her as he had wanted to for every day since their kiss on top of the train (except of course for the day he had amnesia). Meg, who now stood in only her bra and panties, delighted in the feel of Ben's hands running up and down her back. She wanted to feel him the same way. She slid her hands up to his shoulders and pushed the suspenders from them. She continued to undress him, removing his pants and undershirt and using her feet to remove his socks, until he wore only his starched, white boxers. They kissed deeply again before pulling away from each other slightly, Meg's arms around Ben's waist and Ben's around Meg's, and looked into each other's eyes.

"Meg," Ben whispered as though someone might hear him and disapprove, "are you sure?" These were the first words either of them had spoken since Ben had freed Meg's zipper.

In reply, Meg released Ben from her hold and unhooked his arms from around her. She stepped back slightly and reached behind her back to unhook her bra. Like Ben's undershirt, she tossed the bra carelessly away. She stepped back towards Ben. He could feel her bare breasts pressed against his bare chest and again wrapped his arms around her. Meg slid her hands around Ben's back and slipped them into his boxers. She placed a hand on each buttock and squeezed gently.

"What does that tell you, Constable?"

"I take it that means yes."

Without a word, Meg removed her hands from Ben's boxers and taking one of his hands in one of her's, led him down the hall to her bedroom. Once inside the room, she closed the door in the face of a very upset cat.

* * *

THE NEXT MORNING

The first thing Meg saw when she woke up the next morning was the peacefully sleeping face of Benton Fraser. She still could not believe last night had happened. She pinched herself on the arm and discovered her dream had really come true. Meg was just about to touch his beautiful face when the telephone rang. Reluctantly, she rolled to her other side to answer the phone. As she picked it up, she glanced at the clock on her nightstand and noted the time: 9:30am. Who could be calling her at 9:30 on a Saturday morning. She hated being called before 11 on weekends.

"Hello? Turnbull," Meg instantly slipped into her 'Inspector voice', "why are you calling me this early in the morning on the weekend? Haven't I discussed this with you before? Yes, I know Constable Fraser did not return the Consulate's car last night. No, there is not need to call his apartment building. No, Turnbull, I do not hold you responsible." A hand slipped around her waist and laid itself on her stomach. Meg glanced over herself and smiled at Ben. "No, Turnbull, I do not think Constable FRASER got into an accident on his way to return the car." Just as Meg said "Fraser", Ben had nibbled on her shoulder. Meg tried steadied her voice for the rest of the sentence and then turned and mouthed the word "Ben!" at Ben. Ben stifled a chuckle. "Good-bye, Turnbull."

Meg hung up the phone and turned to face Ben.

"I take it, Meg, that Turnbull was disturbed to find that I did not return the car and feared you would seriously hurt him."

"Yup. What was with that bite to my shoulder? Surely Turnbull noticed my change in tone. He is going to think I picked someone up last night."

"Actually, I picked you up last night, to drive you, that is." Ben winked at Meg. "Besides, it will give him something to think about. I know I enjoy thinking about you."

Ben pulled Meg on top of him so she lay with one ear on his chest. As Ben slowly ran his hands up and down her bare back, Meg thought of a verse of a song she'd listened to the day before on her CD player.

"Ben?"

"Hmm?", Ben said as he reached up to kiss her shoulder.

"Last night, after we made love, you said you loved me. Did you mean it?"

"After which time are your referring to?," he said with a twinkle in his eye.

Meg's head shot up and she poked him in the ribs as she said, "Fraser!!"

Ben leaned his head back as far as he could and chuckled while continuing to rub Meg's back gently. Meg looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Would you mind telling me what is so funny?"

Meg slipped off of Ben's body to prop herself on her side beside him with her elbow. Ben turned his head to look into her eyes.

"Meg, you've known me for long enough and know me well enough to know that I mean what I say and that I don't take making love, which is truly what we did last night, lightly."

"So, I take it that means yes," she echoed his words from the previous night.

"Yes, Meg, that means yes. In fact, you are only the second woman I've ever said those words too. It ended . . .," Ben turned his head to momentarily look at the ceiling before turning back to Meg's dark eyes. "It ended badly with the first, but I know that won't happen this time."

"Victoria Metcalf was the other woman. Am I right?"

Ben looked back at the ceiling and closed his eyes.

"Yes, Victoria Metcalf was the other woman."

"Ben, I'm not upsetting you, am I?"

He turned his head back towards her face.

"No, no, no, It's, uh, it's OK. In fact, I want to share this with you."

Meg inched closer to Ben and wrapped her arm around his waist. Ben lay on his back and looked at the ceiling as he told Meg the entire story of his relationship with Victoria Metcalf: from their time at Fortitude Pass to the way she haunted him for 10 years to her return and near destruction of his life to his recovery from Ray's bullet and his continuing recovery from his emotional scars. He told her things he had never told anyone before, including Ray.

When he finished, Ben looked back to Meg's eyes. Through his own tear filled eyes, he saw tears in her eyes.

"Thank you, Ben. Thank you for sharing that with me."

She leaned forward and gently kissed his lips. She pulled back and looked into his eyes.

"Ben, uh, may I, I mean, could you. . ."

"You want to see the scar from the bullet?"

"Yes, if I may."

"Yeah, yeah, it's all right."

Ben took Meg's hand in his and brought it up to his lips and kissed it. Releasing the hand, he slowly sat up and turned his back towards her. Meg nearly gasped as she saw the bullet scar for the first time. Slowly, she reached out the hand Ben had just kissed and laid it on the scar. She felt Ben shudder slightly. In response, she removed her hand and leaned forward to softly kiss the scar on Ben's back. Meg slowly slid her lips toward the shoulder closer to her. As she reached the shoulder, Ben turned towards her and pulled her on top of him as he lay back down. Looking deeply into Meg's eyes, Ben whispered three words.

"No, thank you."

"I love you, Ben Fraser."

And in that instant, Meg Thatcher knew she had finally found the more she'd been looking for for so many years.