TITLE: The Truth Enslaved

AUTHOR: Triest Wright

RATING: R, Language, violence, mild sexual content.

CATEGORY: Drama, Gen, AU in that I've brought her back before DS ended and I accidentally brought Dewey in before he existed cronoligically, beyond that nothing contradicts what was written throughout the show.

PAIRINGS: Fraser/Victoria

SPOILERS: VS, if you haven't seen the episode this story will make ziltch for sense to you, The Deal, JIB, Letting Go.

TEASER: An exploration to a theory that Victoria's motive behind the events in VS was far deeper, and darker, than revenge.

ARCHIVES: Everywhere when finished

THANKS: To all of my friends and the entire newsgroup who have provided me with inspiration, guidance, and tireless beta's even if they had no idea they were helping. Without you guys I never would have made it.

DISCLAIMER: Victoria, Fraser, Ray, Dief, Ray Kowalski, and other characters belong to Paul Haggis, Paul Gross, and Alliance productions along with the original storylines of Victoria's Secret, The Deal, and Juliet is Bleeding. The rest of the web is mine, or Victoria's supernatural character's, whichever came first.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This story is extremely controversial, but I ask you when reading to retain and open mind and reserve judgment until the end. I did this for a number of reasons but the first being to heal Fraser's heart, he's never been one to speak lightly of things and when he said he felt that he had known Victoria "for a thousand lifetimes", and that he loved her he meant it; and that love being broken, no matter what may happen, can never completely heal without mending the break by the person to caused it.

The Truth Enslaved
by Triest Wright

1) IF THESE WALLS COULD SPEAK

March 13, 1996 :::Late Evening:::

Moisture was beginning to build on the windshield of the Riv where Ray and Fraser were losing the battle to stay awake on what was proving to be yet another boring stakeout. Having nothing to say to one another Fraser's head was beginning to droop and Ray just couldn't help himself from doodling in the white film of mist.

Ray suddenly sniffed, and abruptly froze. "What is that?"

"What is what, Ray?"

"That smell."

"I can't smell anything."

"Oh, come on! Can't you smell that?" He sniffed again, leaning back a

little. His nostrils flared suddenly as a hot wave of stench burned its way from the back seat deep into his sinuses, wrenching a dry heave from the very pit of his stomach.

"Diefenbaker!" Fraser scolded as he unrolled his window. "You know better!"

"Your dog did this!? Geez, What did you FEED him?"

"I didn't. It appears to be a recurring problem, but I warned him before we left that he had better contain himself..."

The subject in question answered with a detached whine from his huddled spot behind Ray's seat.

"This is gonna permeate the upholstery!" He'd put up with the hair, the missing doughnuts, the drool, the whining, but this, this was just too much for any rational man to endure. "He's goin' out!" Ray opened his door with an irritated jerk.

Dief whined again, pitifully, and lifted a paw in apology; which the Detective rudely ignored as he popped the trunk and began rooting for that towing rope he kept for emergencies.

Fraser had half a mind to follow, never sure just where Ray's temper would land when it came to matters like this. But before he could act on this protective instinct, the voices crackling over the radio transmitter caught his attention.

"...Full and justifiable retribution will be enacted should my partner be *anything* but satisfied."

The pair where actually posted as backup for an FBI entrapment scheme involving a slippery hitman. The undercover agent working the deal was obviously reconsidering his employment options as was evident in the way his voice quavered.

"Oh, I assure you, he will find no fault. I work a clean business here."

Then again the assassin's cool professionalism could have unnerved the most seasoned of undercover officers...

"Good, it's final then?"

"Certainly..."

A thump sounded, followed by a lighter thump, which caused Fraser to unconsciously look towards the only lit home on the street. The place, if you could turn back time, would have been the picture of Victorian elegance. But now it could only be described as dilapidated. The grass in what was once a well manicured lawn, had grown knee deep before dying during the fall frosts and leaving a less than pleasing lumpy yellow mess. In addition the few remaining shutters barely held onto the split, weathered, warped, and peeling siding. Windows where broken in various places and the roof sagged at a horrifying angle.

The whisper of paper floated through the transmitter as one of the voices sounded again. "The rest will be delivered after the job's done."

Ray opened his door at that moment, his forehead knotted in anger as he started to speak, but the words were lost as a stream of gunshots blasted from within the building.

Fraser was out of the car in a matter of seconds, Dief hot on his

heels. Ray, already halfway to the front door, yelled over his shoulder: "There's one in the back!" Ben noticed the rapid movement just out of the corner of his eye and immediately set pursuit.

With well-trained ease, Vecchio held his weapon at low ready as he cautiously approached the main entrance of the mansion. The front door lay slightly ajar and he tentatively kicked it, eyes sensitive to the slightest movement ahead of him. He continued towards the voices he could just make out in a back room and with a sudden offensive movement turned into the doorway. The agent lay still in the middle of the room, regaining his breath after the impact of bullet to vest. Near him lay another man lay cuffed and on his stomach. On top of this the room was a full of Feds, every shape and sort. However all parties involved were far too absorbed with the task at hand to notice Ray. He could have emptied a clip into them, right then, without a hint of difficulty. "Geez, you guys couldn't find your way out of a wet paper bag with both hands and a roadmap." He shook his head with a silent laugh as he found his way to the backyard.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The suspect appeared quite agile on his feet, but after a minute or so, Fraser had successfully predicted his pattern, and with a quick detour he had him in custody. The two returned to the hideout where a proper arrest was made. The young man was handed over, complete with Fraser's observations on his involvement and he and Vecchio moved aside.

The Feds, as always, took over; but being ever ready for a chance to irritate their counterparts they wouldn't let Ben or Ray leave. Which, having nothing to busy their minds with, was no small form of torture. The atmosphere was always tense in situations like this, but the house itself seemed to add to it that night. Beyond the aesthetic discomfort, it was something intangible...a feeling.

Ray shivered, involuntarily. "I don't know about you Benny, but this place gives me the creeps."

"It does seem to contain a certain negative aura. You know, Ray, the Hindu believe buildings take in the day to day happenings within their walls, whether the karma be good or evil. Many of them hire professional priests to banish the atmosphere should it be unfavorable."

"Yeah. Well whatever it is, I don't like it."

Quite unexpectedly, a noise, faint, eerie, and extremely unnatural,

penetrated the boredom of Fraser's mind and traveled down his spine with a shiver. "Ray did you hear that?" He asked quickly.

"Hear what?"

He held out his hand for quiet as he honed his senses in on the noise. With a careful step, he moved in the direction it seemed to be coming from, towards the kitchen -- or what was left of it, seeing as the water damage in this quarter of the house was severe.

*The Pantry*, Fraser thought, moving forward but stopping, perplexed, as he realized it had been too faint to be coming from directly inside. He started for the yard when the sound hit the air again, a piercing wail that stopped Ray in his tracks and made Dief whine and cover his ears with his paws.

It was alive...that much was for sure. But its origin remained a mystery, until Ben realized the likeliness of a root cellar. He remained quiet as he tiptoed to the pantry, rooting in the utility pouch of his Sam Browne for his mini mag flashlight. Using it to light his way, he stepped into the small room.

Ray considered following, but hesitated as the smell radiated from within. There was something strange about it, and he un-surely hovered in the doorway. Besides he would only be in the way. Yeah, that was it, only in the way...

The Mountie frowned as he continued forward. Beyond the mold, moss, mice and various other scourges of old buildings, was another smell -- dead, yet tangy in its stage of rot. As he scanned the floor with the thin beam of the flashlight, it reflected off something metal and he dropped to his knees to inspect what appeared to be a simple, rectangular stainless steel door. Brand new as it was, it stood out from its surroundings of rotting wood and dirt. Using a handkerchief to prevent marring any prospective prints, he tried to lift the door; succeeding only in jostling it as it was much heavier than he'd suspected. But the disturbance, though slight, sent whatever was trapped inside into a fit of pitiful screams. They where human and the realization made him shiver, as a knot of fear clutched about his stomach.

Fraser quickly steeled himself against the growing sense of panic, and strained to open the door. The terrifying screeches didn't stop and were beginning to attract attention from the rest of the house, but he hardly noticed this as the door gave way and an intoxicating smell assaulted his senses. It seemed to be a mixture of death, excrement, dirt, and damp that stewed within itself, making the air heavy and thick.

Ray had made a promise to himself that he'd stick with his friend through this little exploit, but as the smell from whatever was in that hole invaded his nostrils it sent him running for fresh air and control over his stomach.

Fraser cautiously peered into the opening where a flimsy-at-best set of stairs led to a dirt floor. Swinging the narrow beam outward he found the source of the disturbance huddled in a corner, so emaciated and grimy he could barely make out its human likeness.

"Someone call for an ambulance!" he called to the next room as he quickly shed his belt and tunic. Then using the floor for leverage, he swung himself down so as not to collapse the stairs, and shifted his light around with the utmost care to illuminate the frightened wretch. It flinched, as though it had been struck, and quieted to a sporadic whimper. The almost cartoon-like form of humanity took Fraser aback. It sat, hugging its knees, in a fetal position with it's back turned partially to the side to cover its nakedness. Discolored and misshapen by the bruises, cuts, and filth, the face that turned toward him was dominated by eyes that held a fixed expression of pain and terror Ben knew would haunt his dreams for many nights to come.

Forgetting his own discomfort, the Mountie crouched down onto his knees.

"It's okay, it's okay, I'm not going to hurt you -- not going to hurt you," he cooed softly, gently, as he put the flashlight in his mouth and stuck his hands out, gesturing that he was unarmed. "What happened hmm? What happened?"

The figure stopped digging at the wall and curled its hands in towards its chest.

"I'm going to help you now, just relax.."

He moved forward a bit more and could see that it was a woman.

"There now, we're going to get you all cleaned up..."

He stopped his advance within five feet, continuing to speak in the same reassuring tone. "No one's going to hurt you anymore, your safe now...everything's going to be okay."

She began crying in earnest with hoarse sobs that seemed to play over his heart like tiny daggers.

"You can trust me...look at me?"

She didn't respond, and he moved a little closer.

"Please, look into my eyes, tell me if I'm going to hurt you."

He turned the flashlight so it wouldn't blind her and almost defiantly, she met his gaze. Bitter and piercing as they were, he found something oddly familiar about them. As she searched his face, he watched the tension melt from her body, and she shifted around to look at him more comfortably. "Yes, you see? I'm here to help you. There. now, just let me help you..."

He was now about two feet from her and extended his hand. She cried out a little; almost in defeat, and reached for it. Offering a tiny defeated whimper and a shiver passed through her frail figure before she reached for it, her skeleton-like fingers grasping his with a surprising strength. He returned the gesture with a reassuring squeeze and a smile. Then she leaned on him, her hands clinging to his shirt as she nuzzled closely against his chest, and he realized that her body temperature was dangerously low. Ben carefully slid his arms around her and began talking about nothing. Noticing as he spoke that someone had chopped off her hair with no regard for style, her stomach had begun to distend, an obvious sign of starvation and malnutrition, and below the grime that caked her skin he could make out deep infected bedsores or gashes of some sort, particularly on the ankles. Still whatever the rage these horrors ignited within him, he kept it masked as he continued to speak in a comforting tone, she shivered, and they waited for help.

2: VOICES TRAPPED IN YEARNING

March 16 :::Midday:::

"So he's running for it, right? And he's, like, three feet away when he decides to back off for the center fielder who's gotta be a good 20 feet away! It bounces, and there goes the game, 'n half my paycheck!" Ray paused, poking idly at his plate. "Benny?"

The two men were catching up over lunch at the new diner across from the precinct, but Ray seemed to be doing most of the catching up. Fraser had been somewhere in never-never land since he showed up.

"Hey! Earth to Fraser!"

Ben blinked as his mind shifted back to the present. "Hmm, what? What did you say?"

"Man, what's the matter with you? You've been zoning out on me all

morning."

"I'm sorry Ray. I guess." He ran a thumbnail over his eyebrow as his thoughts shifted back into place. "I guess I've just been having some difficulty sleeping."

"The Jane Doe?"

"Something like that."

"Yeah, that's been buggin' me, too. You know, after we insisted that it *was* in the Chicago jurisdiction, the FBI still moved it to the 9th precinct? I swear Ford would rather cut off his last hind leg then give us something we want."

"I was not aware of that."

"Pisses me off with all the media coverage. For all you'd know, the FBI found her and is handling the case completely on their own."

The woman had been beaten so badly that visual identification was virtually impossible. That and she'd flat out refused to speak to anyone. The police were still waiting on the finger print analysis but the media wasn't, they'd already made her into a tragic celebrity of sorts, launching their own search as to her identity. "Considering what they where trying to accomplish, I don't think the means of her discovery was much of an issue."

There was a tense silence, as Ray ate and Fraser continued to stare off into space. "Hey, you gonna eat that or not?"

"Oh. No, Ray. I guess I'm not really hungry."

The Italian squinted as he stared into his friend's eyes. "Is there

something you're keepin' from me?"

"No, nothing essential."

"You're onto something. Come on, don't lie da me."

Fraser closed his eyes as his mind wandered three nights back when the paramedics slipped the unknown woman into a waiting ambulance. There had something in her manner, something in her eyes...

Ben sighed and returned his gaze to Ray. "If you must know, I can't seem to get past this -- this feeling that I know her."

Ray laughed. "I think everyone's feeling that way."

"No, it's more than that." Ben insisted, knowing there was more than the media frenzy behind his anxiety. "You see, when I was with her, she was terrified at first. It took me a minute to calm her, and then she looked at me -- I can't describe just what it was in her eyes, but I knew I'd seen her, somewhere, before. However, that didn't strike me as odd as the way she seemed to have the same reaction. It was as though she knew me, and in that instant, trusted me without question. Considering her circumstances, it is hard to believe that she would be emotionally capable of trusting anyone.

"Yeah, but you're a Mountie. People trust Mounties."

"Not all people, Ray."

"Yeah I see your point." He paused for a moment. "Hey, you know it's been a few days, the swelling might have gone down a bit. Why don't you go see her?" He didn't need an answer to that, the look on his friend's face spoke plenty. "Have you had your head checked lately? Whatcha got to be scared of? And since when did fear stop *you* from doing anything?"

Ben couldn't begin to explain what was going on inside him. His heart froze at the idea of seeing the woman again--and it didn't make sense. There was no logical reason for him to fear her, but his instincts screamed otherwise. Still, Ray was right, he was only delaying the inevitable. "I'll go this evening after work. If memory serves, visiting hours are between 10 a.m. and 6 p.m., correct?"

"Hey, don't expect me to remember stuff like that. You need a lift?"

"No, thank you. I think I'll walk. A little fresh air will do me some good." He glanced up as the waitress came to check on them. "Could I get this to go?"

"Sure."

"Thank you kindly."

"I'll keep you updated if anything filters back from the 9th. You'll probably have more luck with the news though." The waitress handed Ray the bill. "But take care of yourself Benny. This case has got 'ugly' written all over it."

"That'll be $12.37, including tax."

"Twelve what? For two burgers and a coke?" He yelled.

"I'm sorry, Sir, but the prices are listed on the menu --."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever." Ray fished in his pockets for the exact

change as he grumbled incoherently.

"Thank you, and come again." The young girl sounded like an automatic voice message as she winked at Fraser who didn't, or pretended not to, notice as he followed Ray out of the diner.

:::Evening:::

When Fraser arrived at the hospital that evening, he'd been faced with a very reluctant and suspicious staff, none of whom had wanted to tell him anything due to the media frenzy the Jane Doe's' story had warranted. It wasn't until he'd tracked down her doctor and explained that his interest in the case was strictly processional, that they gave him her room number and a rough briefing on her medical condition.

She was stable, though there were some complications, and the psychological damage couldn't be assessed quite yet. Beyond the immediate dangers of dehydration, malnutrition and hypothermia, the deeply infected wounds on her ankles and wrists had attracted some attention beyond the obvious risks of gangrene and toxemia. The ER had identified them as burns and a consult had been called. Concluding that a barbaric torture device involving some sort of electrocution caused them. This, combined with the infection, resulted in some minor nerve damage that should hopefully heal with time and physical therapy, but there was always that element of doubt. In addition there were obvious psychological complications but it remained too early in her recovery to properly assess the extent of the damage. In a nutshell, the woman had been to hell and lived to tell about it.

Or had she?

This question twisted itself amongst the others coursing through Ben's mind as he paused outside her room and stepped inside as though treading on sacred ground. He quietly closed the door as he looked around the room.

Aside from the whir of the ventilation system, and the soft hums and clicks of the various equipment keeping her alive, the room was suffocatingly quiet. She lay with her back to him, facing the window and a darkened panorama of Chicago. The thin blanket covering her dipped dramatically at the waist, rising again at an almost unnatural angle to the hip, where her hand lay; the bony yet

aristocratically long fingers curved slightly in relaxation. Someone had been merciful enough to even out her butchered hair, and it now rested around her head in a soft blanket of short black curls.

The sound of his boots hitting the slick tile floor fell like gunshots across the silence as he timidly stepped to the side of her bed. At the sound of his approach her eyes, which had been otherwise fixed on the window, turned to him. Even pinched in pain Fraser could see that they were a striking luminous sea-green. Beyond them however, whatever beauty she might have held was distorted by a mask of distinct bruises and contusions that was extremely painful to look upon, and Fraser felt that pain deeply; even though her doctor had assured him that the damage was superficial and would likely heal with little scarring.

"Hello."

The greeting melted into the air, taking some of the tension with it. Ben noticed a chair and slowly sat down, putting them at the same eye level. He smiled and her eyebrows lifted a little, as though it hurt her.

"Do you remember me?" He asked quietly, keeping his tone gentle as he moved to take her hand, slowly as to not disturb the bandages.

She recoiled from his touch, and jerked away, screwing her eyes tightly shut.

It was then that Ben noticed the tremor, slight but present, in her lower extremities. His heart constricted with pity and he softened his voice further.

"Where have we seen each other before?"

Her hands balled up into white knuckled fists as she hugged them closely to her chest and whimpered with a low, strangled cry. Reminding Ben of the loons that frequented his aunt's pond in the summer, and unnerving him considerably-- Yet the feeling of familiarity remained so powerful that he couldn't force himself to back down. "Please, let me help you..." he pleaded quietly.

He suddenly realized her lips were moving. Curious, he leaned forward to better make out the words.

"Brute beauty and valor and act,

Oh, air, pride, plume, here Buckle!

AND the fire that breaks from thee then,

A billion Times told lovelier,

More dangerous,

O my chevalier!"

For a long moment Ben sat frozen in disbelief as he absorbed the words falling soundlessly from her lips. It was a poem, and one he knew. One he would never be able to forget.

"No wonder of it:

Sheer plod makes plough down sillion

Shine, and blue-bleak embers,

Ah my dear,

Fall, gall themselves,

And gash gold-vermillion."

He shifted his focus to her eyes, now open and swimming with tears as their gazes locked. Then suddenly, with a sharp gasp, he reeled back as truth stabbed him in the heart. He felt the blood drain from his face, and fought to speak through tide of emotions that tore him in two. Only one word escaped in a deadly whisper.

"Victoria."

An intense wave of claustrophobia sent Fraser from the room without another word, stopping in the hallway to catch his breath. With an almost unconscious gesture he put his hand over his heart, and slipped off his Stetson as he turned to face the window to her room.

*Victoria.* The name echoed though his head like a vicious practical joke and he braced his other hand against the sill as his legs threatened to give way.

*Why? How? Where?*

It didn't make sense. NONE of it made sense! This rhetorical train of

thought was interrupted as rapid footsteps penetrated the deathly quiet of the hall.

"Benny!" Ray was breathless from the strain that came from running the

seven flights of stairs it had taken to avoid security and the press. As his friend turned to face him, Ben's hollowed expression of pain doubled Ray's guilt. "You know?"

"Yes..."

"I hoped I could catch you before you figured it out. There were

fingerprints all over the house and that cellar thing. Half of them were hers."

"I should have recognized her eyes. I should have seen it -- but it just doesn't make any sense, Ray...."

Ray's voice sharpened. "Fraser, the other half belonged to Frankie Zuko."

Or maybe it did...

3: THIS PATH I FEAR TO TREAD

March 16 :::Late Night:::

"What do you mean we're off the case?" Ray was livid.

"You're off the case, Detective, and so are Huey and Dewey."

"But it's OUR jurisdiction, it's PERSONAL!"

"Which is why you're going to stay away from Zuko! If you have anything to do with the investigation, his lawyers are gonna cry conflict of interest and any evidence you had anything to do with will be thrown out!"

Ray knew perfectly well Welsh was right, but that didn't make accepting the point any easier. The whole of his soul seethed with an indescribable rage, and he had to focus it on something or he'd surely self-distruct. His nostrils flared as he tried to control his anger. "I swear to God when I get my hands on those two I'll kill 'em, I'll kill 'em with my bare hands!"

"That's exactly what I'm talking about Vecchio. This isn't easy for any of us, but it's hardest on you, and I can't be sure you're not going to do something stupid."

The torrent of rage within him gradually gave way to pain as Ray bowed his head and turned to leave the office.

"I didn't dismiss you Detective. When was the last time you had a

vacation?"

"Um, something like a year, sir."

"You've got another two weeks comin' up..."

"Sir?"

"Just don't get in the way, Vecchio."

Ray smiled slowly. "Gotcha."

"Now get out of my office."

"Yes sir."

March 18 :::Morning:::

"What are you talking about? Who is Victoria?" Frank was, as usual, fairly bursting with questions after spending the night locked in a cell.

"You've been watching the news, you tell me. Do you get some kinda sick pleasure out of watching your handiwork publicized all over the contintent?" Detective Marino was young, and known for his energy and idealistic judgments of people.

"Don't answer that, Frank." Zuko's attorney interjected.

"I have nothing to hide. Are you talking about that Jane Doe they found a few days ago?"

"You know about her?"

"Hard not to. She's everywhere. Are you saying I did *that*?" Frank's look was convincingly appaled.

"I'm not saying anything, what are you saying Mr. Zuko?"

"That I had nothing to do with this! You have no evidence!"

"I dost think he protest too much...?"

"You don't have anything on me! This isn't fair!"

"You're coercing a confession, Mr. Marino. Now, unless you have something substantial with which to justify holding my obviously innocent client here, I will have no choice but to press charges."

"Excuse me Detective, can I speak with you a moment?" ASA St. Laurent interrupted them, poking her firey head into the room.

"Just a minute." Marino growled as he moved savely out of earshot. "What ya got?"

"The hitman the FBI was after owned, or should I say operated, the building the victim was found in. He just heard about the case."

"Yeah."

"You need to talk to Welsh."

"But what about --?" He gestured to the interrogation room he'd been working in.

"Just go, Detective."

As he found his way back to the 27th's bullpen, he noticed the telltale dark coats and balding heads of a group of IA stiffs. What the hell? he thought. "Lieutenant, what's this all about?"

You're in the doors that keep revolving

This silence that keeps screaming

You're in the flashing of the headlights

The things that I believe in.

:::Not an hour later:::

"Would you like anything to drink?"

Ray faced the wiry IA agent before him with an accusitory stare of his own. "I just had a big breakfast, no thanks."

"Well then, shall we get down to business?" He pressed 'play' on the tape recorder in front of him. "Can you account for your whereabouts on the evening of February 27th?"

"Geez, that's over three weeks ago! Probably glued to the tube along with 90% of the rest of Chicago watchin' the all star game. Now what's this all about?"

"It's no secret that your buddy and Miss Metcalfe have a history, but how did you feel during that whole turn of events?"

"You mean now, or the last time she made our lives a living hell?"

"Last time."

"I wanted to kill her, same as everybody else."

"Kill??"

"Oh, I've got her picture mounted on my wall and I throw darts at it before I go to bed." Ray returned sardonically He hadn't appreciated the violent invasion his home, or this 'informal arrest'. That and the fact that he hadn't slept in over 48 hours made patience about number 145 on his list of virtues. "Now, what the hell is this all about? If this is what you guys do for fun, you should be the ones with a probe up your ass."

"We got you this time Vecchio, there's no way out."

You're in the water that I'm drinking

The pills that disappear

The why and when I'm talking

These words you'll never hear

In this world you are with me....

Fraser was undergoing much the same line of questioning across the hall. He'd taken the abrupt appearance of CPD muscle at his building with a grain of salt, but when he was asked to answer some questions 'in an official capacity,' deja vu overwhelmed him, and before he fully realized what was happening, he'd buried himself solidly inside of a protective shell. And here he was again, facing the ASA in defense of a crime he knew almost nothing about.

"How is it, that after nearly two hours with the FBI at the place on Victorville, no one heard anything out of the ordinary but you?"

"All RCMP cadets are specifically trained to hone their hearing in on small noises that are otherwise overlooked. In the wide open spaces many of us work in, this talent proves crucial to run what you consider the most rudimentary of tracking exercises."

"And while you followed the sound, you never thought to alert anyone about your finding or ask for backup?"

"No, Detective Vecchio accompanied me, and I thought it to be a most unnecessary distraction, should my search prove futile."

"Why exactly were you there in the first place, Constable?"

"Again, Detective Vecchio and I where posted as the local backup for an FBI undercover operation."

"And how long had you known about this assignment?"

But I walk this earth alone

And all I've ever known

Is you are right beside me.

Ray rubbed his face with his hands as he sighed. "Something like a month maybe."

"And what did you know about this criminal the FBI was tailing?"

"He's into a whole bunch of trafficking stuff and they got a tip he was gonna do a pro hit for a friend. His hangout's in Chicago so they thought it would happen here, but he skipped down to Louisiana."

"Then how were you still involved?"

"We weren't, but the feds lost him down south and he didn't appear again until about three days before he came up here. They asked us to run backup again since he was planning the other part of the hit."

"So you knew the suspect's stats, the circles he worked, where his hideout was located, and you knew that he was going out of the state?"

"Right."

"And the place is abandoned for what? Three weeks? With only you, your buddy, and a few select agents who are completely accounted for, fully aware of this?"

"As far as I know, yeah. Us and Welsh."

If I love you for a day

And blow my life away

Would you still be right beside me?

The accusatory tone in Louise's voice was beginning to make sense to Fraser as he realized what he was facing.

"So, over the next few weeks, the woman that tried to put you and your best friend out of comission, is beaten and tortured in a condemned hideout that only you and your friend know about. Now, Mr. Fraser, tell me how that works in correlation with this." She pressed the play button on the small voice recorder that lay in the center of the interrogation table. Instantly, a deep and distinctly masculine voice filled the room. Fraser recognized it with a certain sense of horror, as the man from the steakout...the hitman...

"So these two guys come to me saying they need a place that's secured for a couple weeks right? And I ask what for? They tell me they gotta hold someone somewhere low-key while they get their money back from 'im. And I know these guys are cops, but they give me such a good offer, I can't refuse. I do a little background check and see that they've both got shady spots on their record, so I take the deal, givin' 'em a few of my rules. We agree to half up front, half after the job's done, and I leave. When I come back, my money's been hid where it was supposed to be in the attic, but there's no sign of my customers. Hey, I'm used to this kind of stuff -- it comes with the business -- so I have the digits checked, and I find out they're marked on a robbery a long ways back. I've got a meeting set up for that night, so I don't have time to find 'em and get my payment. But I get busted and I'm not about to volunteer any information until I got my stories straight. So, yesterday you guys start asking me questions about this body they've found in my place, but I haven't even seen my lawyer yet, so I don't wanna say nothing. "

Another voice, the interrogator, stepped in.

"How is it that you didn't see these two men when you were arrested or afterwards? You were in close proximity to them for close to an hour."

"They must have never come in the room I was in. If I'da seen those backstabbing sons of bitches I would have told you guys everything right there, but like I said, I just saw their faces full out when you showed me those pictures there..."

Louise stopped the tape.

"It all works out for you doesn't it? You get your revenge, the money, you set up your friend's nemesis to take the fall, and you both come out looking like heroes. Almost too good to be true."

Oh you're in the crashing of the windows

Angel's on the ceiling

You're in the fire in my belly

This mussed up way I'm feeling

You're in the water only label

The sound of 911

The walls that protect me

From the damage that you've done

In this world you are with me...

"This is ridiculous, why didn't this guy come forward before? He was in that place for five hours before they got 'im; tell me he didn't notice something was up." Welsh didn't bother to keep his temper in check as he, Louise, and the Duckboys argued over their next step in the secured space of his office.

"Even if he had, he wouldn't have told anyone about it. Look Lieutenant, it's hard for all of us to admit that we didn't get Vecchio and Fraser when we had the chance, but now we've got witnesses, testimony, opportunity, motive coming out of our ears, and a set of circumstances that are far too convenient to overlook. We can't let them slip between the cracks again."

"What about the Victoria? If Fraser did it, why didn't she identify him on the two occasions he was with her?"

"He could have been in disguise, or Vecchio could have been responsible for the torture. They've made sure we can't find out now, haven't they?"

"Hey, no one said her condition was permanent."

"No one said it's not long term, either. The point is, if we let these guys out, they're gonna run."

"I still can't believe this hitman guy didn't notice them in the three days before this. I want him down here and have him do a lineup." He turned to Huey and Dewey who nodded in silent recognition, both speechless with outrage.

"... And I want so much pressure on Metcalfe's doctor he's begging for mercy. In the meantime, we'll wait and see what forensics comes up with."

"And what about the suspects?" Louise wouldn't let herself get railroaded.

"We'll keep 'em in here 'voluntarily.'"

"Fine, but I want Zuko released with someone on his tail. He's not out of the woods yet, but we got enough harassment claims coming from that end as it is. He finds out we're investigating other possibilities and still keeping him locked up, we'll loose any opportunity to prosecuting him in the future."

~

Fraser held his face in his hands as Ray was brought from his interrogation chamber. Ben hurt, physically, mentally, and emotionally; and the look on his friend's face seared it into place like a brand.

Ray sighed as he sank into his chair. "That woman carries bad luck with her like a broken mirror."

"Can you think of anything?"

"Nope, nothing but what's already on the plate."

"She would talk to me Ray, I'm sure of it."

"You don't know that."

"I know her."

"That's what you said the last time."

"Because I did, Ray. If I could get the opportunity to see her, face to face, I know I could get her to tell us the truth."

"Well from the looks of it, that's not going to be happening any time soon.

The Mountie swallowed, it was going to be a long day.

:::Evening:::

The star witness, Mitchell Sampson, was brought to the precinct and positively identified both Fraser and Ray out of the detailed picture lineups.

At first, the Chief Phyciatrist at County General, had flat out refused any sort of contact with Victoria -- in that she had been showing early signs of a panic disorder . But after facing down Elaine and a hostile police force, he agreed to consider the prospect the next day, so long as Victoria's testimony remained invaluable to the case.

This left nothing to those 'champions' of Fraser and Ray's cause, but the foreboding cloud of forensic evidence. Whispers circulating the department did little to ease fears and they were forced to wait until well after hours , but very few left the precinct. When Louise finally walked into the bullpen carrying her folder, triumphant, there was still a considerable crowd awaiting her.

"Leiutenant, I need to speak with you in private." Her tone was clipped and smug.

"What?" He waved to the crowd outside as he shut the blinds to his office.

"Keys were found in both Fraser's apartment and Vecchio's residence that match the locks to Sampson's hideout. In Ray's basement a box of miscellaneous hardware was discovered, including a set of door handles identical in design and make to the one at the crime scene. BUT..." She pulled a picture of a key from the file she carried, and handed it to Welsh. "It belongs to a safety deposit box in the First National Bank, four blocks from the Canadian Consulate. Inside was close to one hundred thousand dollars in pristine condition bills. The serial numbers were traced, and they match what was left of the cash from the Alaska robbery." She paused for only a moment. "I want arrests, Lieutenant, and I want them now."

But I walk this earth alone

And all I've ever known

Is you are right beside me

If I love you for a day

And blow my life away

Would you still be right beside me?

Oh would you still....be right....beside me?

4: THE BROKEN MIRROR

March 17 :::Late Evening:::

Due to a miscommunication somewhere in the recesses of CPD paperwork, Zuko was released at the same time Fraser and Ray were arrested. As the two were ushered to the processing room, he passed from the other end of the hallway and laughed with that seemed to emit from hell itself.

"Have fun guys, the food's great."

Welsh overtly turned to Huey and Dewey. "I want background checks on everyone that's visited Sampson since he was incarcerated."

"Yes, Sir." They answered in unison as they turned toward the bullpen.

"Not now, Detectives. Go home and get some sleep; we're going to need you running at 110% tomorrow.

The Duck Boys couldn't remember ever hearing that forbidding a tone in Welsh's voice, and more out of fear than heartfelt willingness, the two left to what would undoubtedly be a very long night.

March 18 :::Midmorning:::

With the concrete arrest of the suspect police officers, County General's Chief Phyciatrist Dr. Branston gave in to relentless CPD pressure and agreed to give Victoria's questioning a ghost of a chance. But in order to follow procedure he first needed the patient's permission. They knew her vocal cords had not been damaged in any way, by her frantic speech during and after a nightmare, nor did she seem to suffer from any kind of speech impediment. Her mute status was strictly emotional, and most all emotional crisises could be overcome.

He quietly stepped into the room and cleared his throat. She was facing the window, as was her habit, and made no effort to acknowledge his arrival. "Victoria, the police are having some difficulty pressing charges against the men that assaulted you. Most of their evidence is circumstantial, and with the suspects avidly denying any involvement in the incident, your testimony has proven to be invaluable to their case." He paused as she shifted around to face him, a bit of an improvement in that she hadn't bothered with such a response in the past. "A couple of detectives would like to ask you a few questions if, of course, you feel that you can hadle it. I can also keep it to yes and no questions so you won't have to speak."

But she did, shocking him with a simple word: "Ben?"

"Constable Fraser?"

"Yes, does he want to ask questions?" Her voice was perfectly clear, if a little brusque.

"No, I'm afraid he is one of the suspects." Branston had to admit he himself found it hard to believe the Mountie was capable of such heinous behavior.

Victoria sat up abruptly, nearly detaching her IV. "NO!!!"

Branston quickly grasped her hand. "It's all right, no one knows anything for sure." He could feel the rapid increase in her pulse. "Victoria, they can do this without you. I don't want you overexerting yourself."

She was quiet for a moment. "Can I talk to Ben anyway?"

"I'm afraid not. He is under arrest."

Her eyes darkened and narrowed and snapped with anger. "Son of a..."

"Pardon?"

She shook her head. "Will they be asking questions regarding my involvement in...past...incidents? My record?"

"Not without your permission, In fact I strongly suggest they don't. I don't think you're capable of handling that nature of stress."

She closed her eyes as she thought through the past.

"I'll do it." She said with grim determination.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. I'm obligated to."

The doctor lifted an eyebrow at this, but didn't press further. "As you wish, I'll give you a few hours to think on it should you change her mind." He knew this would be a huge step in her recovery, and not one he would normally permit so quickly--yet she seemed unshakably determined, and was apparently not mentally incapacitated by her condition in any way; leaving him no legal recourse to prevent the interview.

:::Early Afternoon:::

The prospect of facing *any* law enforcing uniform was terrifying to

Victoria. She'd been running for so long deception had fused with instinct, giving her chills just to think about it. But she would be damned if she'd leave Fraser out to dry again.

"You have fifteen minutes, I don't care what she gives you." The

Psychiatrist was explicit with his instructions. "No mention whatsoever of her rap sheet, and I reserve the right to terminate this engagement at any time, is that clear?"

"Perfectly, Doc." Huey sensed victory, having uncovered sleazy backgrounds with two of the hitman's visitors, and it showed in his voice. With an unconscious nod of his head, he stepped into the room, Dewey following close behind.

Beyond the mug shots, and that brief glance on the train platform, the

detective had never seen Fraser's siren up close. But here, even with the extensive bruising and anemic facial structure, he realized just how beautiful she was. "Hello, I'm Jack Huey and this is my partner, Thomas Dewey. We're here to ask you a few questions about your attackers. That is, assuming there was more than one?"

"One leader, I can't even begin to count his buddies."

"Did you manage to get a close look at any of them?"

"Oh yes, most all of them."

"They weren't disguised?"

"No, I was captive for over a month and knew the assailant, quite well

actually."

"Enough for names?"

"Most of them go by aliases, but Frankie was too proud for that."

"Frankie, as in Frankie Zuko?"

"Yes. About 5'10", dark thick hair, dark eyes...traditional Italian pretty boy. You know who I'm talking about."

Dewey pulled Zuko's mugshot from his briefcase and handed it to her. "This guy?"

Looking directly into the snakelike eyes of the man responsible for her life's ruin, started a chain reaction within her emotional core and her chest began to constrict. She quickly looked away from the offensive picture, willing herself not to succumb to the fear. "Yes, that's him."

"We want to believe this as much as you, but the evidence points to...someone else." Huey didn't want to complicate the situation by saying Fraser's name aloud. "See, we can't visualize a motive for Zuko, or evidence of a frame up."

The witness was quiet, phrasing her response as vaguely as possible while still answering the implied question. "I didn't carry out my end of the deal."

"The deal?" Dewey didn't think as he asked the obvious question.

"Our deal. I didn't pull it off and he wanted his money back. The bastard almost killed me, do you think I could ever forget that face? Do you know what it's like to have this done to you Detective? Do you know what it's like when no matter where you go or where you hide, you just close your eyes and he's right there..." Her voice quavered as she spoke, despite the forceful wording. She pressed her hand to her chest as a violent panic attack engulfed her. With her voice reduced to a whisper, she pleaded with them between short gasps for air.

"Pl...ease go aw...ay..."

The culprits of her distress made a hasty retreat, their minds swimming with the breakthrough information and in no mood to face an irate specialist.

"You think that's going to be enough?" Dewey asked once safely outside.

"I don't know, but we're going to have to make it enough." As soon as he had the key in the ignition, his cell phone buzzed.

"Detective Huey...Uh huh...uh huh......She said it was Zuko and she was supposed to do something for him she didn't do...something involving money....yeah never did make sense to me that she had those kinds of contacts 'n she just got out...okay....okay we're on our way."

"What?"

"That was Welsh. Sampson and Zuko's attorneys went to law school together. The Lieu's got the FBI pressing Sampson right now. He wants us to go down there with Victoria's testimony so they can work out a plea.

:::

"So, Mitch. Your friends call you Mitch?" The feds had sent in a fresh agent to work out the plea with Sampson -- an aging suit with zero tolerance for games.

"Yeah."

"So you got a love affair goin' for electric chairs here or what?"

"What?"

"Stop it Sampson. We've already got you on conspiracy charges, possession charges, assault, assault of a police officer, solicitation of murder...You name it. Add it to manufacturing evidence and impeding an investigation so you could frame a police officer...That's a one way ticket to fry buddy."

"What are you talking about? I didn't lie!"

"...Not to mention wasting our time. The victim told us everything, now you tell us what *you* got on Zuko, and we might just consider making a deal to keep you out of the barbecue pit."

The suspect turned to his lawyer and they continued in a whispered conference for a good two minutes. "What are your terms?"

"You give us enough to nail Zuko and hold up in court, we'll keep your case out of it and give you a straight twenty-five to life."

"But he's forty-eight, and has a heart condition," The attorney interjected.

"Good, then he'll take less juice."

They went into whispers again, gradually the lawyer started to turn red, and then a ghastly pale.

"It's a deal." Sampson said with a malicious grin.

"Then spill it, little man." Anderson was more than fed up, it was a hell of a deal and they all knew it.

"I'll have nothing to do with this." The lawyer stood and turned to leave the interrogation cell.

"If I were you, I wouldn't let him go just yet." Sampson stated coolly.

The agent lifted an eyebrow and signaled the guards outside to lock the door. The lawyer stood like a deer in the spotlights, so pale he looked on the edge of an all out faint.

"Zuko leased the hideout, he and I are sort of old friends from better days. Anyway, I got busted and this lady showed up outta my cellar, so he sent a message through my lawyer here, of what I was supposed to say if you guys started askin' me questions. Those two cops busted me 'n my boys, I didn't really feel like doin' 'em any favors, so I did what I was told."

"There isn't a record of any sort of lease."

"It was a private thing, under the table. Between friends."

"You didn't think it was at all odd that he was framing police officers?"

"Nah, Frankie's always been stupid when it came to messin' with the cops. Everyone knows he and Vecchio go way back. All I had to do was follow the story, I didn't have anything to lose."

"What about the victim? Didn't you think she'd eventually tell what was up?"

"I thought Frankie had that all figured out, I wasn't supposed to know

anything about that. I don't think he planned on letting her talk..."

Anderson stood as a guard stepped in to remove Sampson.

"Hey is it a deal then?"

"You'll have to talk to Ford about that..." Anderson said with a ruthless grin as the hitman was fairly drug from the cell, screaming obscenities. Out of the corner of his eye he just caught the tips of the lawyer's tails as he fled from the building. Huey stepped into the doorway.

"Aren't we going to??"

"No, he's not worth our time, he'll get his just rewards."

An evil grin spread across Huey's dark features as he turned to Dewey and they headed back to the 27th, bearing information that would not only free their friends but hopefully put the head of west end organized crime behind bars, this time, permanently.

5: TOO MANY TIMES BETRAYED

March 25 :::Night:::

*The Gustafson's are fighting again. * Fraser thought, as he tried again to concentrate on the page he'd already read five times. There was another yell and a crash, as something broke in the apartment below him. Dief shifted with an irritated whine as he woke from his nap.

"I know, but you remember what happened the last time I got involved."

This was followed by another crash from below and Dief let off a yip of

disapproval as he rolled off the bed and wandered to his water bowl.

Fraser sighed as he marked his page and flipped off the desk lamp, swallowing the room in darkness save what small light slipped in from the street.

The argument continued below, words Ben didn't want to hear, but couldn't ignore.

"What about me? Do my feelings mean nothing to you? Does love mean nothing to you?"

His breath caught as a wave of guilt punched him in the gut.

After he and Ray were released, and he'd managed to convince Canadian

authorities of his innocence, Fraser had meant to thank Victoria. He had even gotten as far as her hospital door; but he could never cross the threshold before fear and uncertainty turned him back. He couldn't force himself to face her, there was just too much there, too much water under the bridge.

"It's not easy to forgive, is it Son?" The ghost from Fraser past seemed to instantly fill the room with is presence.

Ben stared at his father's ghostlike form in front of the window for a moment. "Where have you been?"

"Oh, here and there. How have you been?"

"I think you know the answer to that." He folded his arms tightly across his chest and looked away.

"Oh buck up son, you know you made the right decision."

"Have I?"

"She's a murderer Benton. Good God, pull yourself together!"

He swallowed hard. "Why is it so difficult? My mind...I think it's the right decision but...I can't...make her...make it go away..."

"And it never will go away, she will always be with you. But you just have to be stronger than that. Act with your head, learn from your mistakes. 'Fool me once shame on you, fool me twice shame on me.'"

"I know that, but...she just seemed so -- so empty, so broken. When I

realized who she was, my reaction was...shameful. The expression in her eyes -- I just -- can't get away from it. She haunts me."

"We all have our trials in life son, one obstacle or another to overcome. Yours is learning to forgive yourself, forgive her, and accept fate as it comes at you. Accept that you are not going to get a second chance."

Ben tried to speak, but his words congealed as tears clogged in his throat. As a crystalline drop escaped his control and rolled over his cheek, he fiercely rubbed it away, willing himself not to care. Willing himself not to feel.

"You'll come to your senses with time Benton. Just hold out until then, and don't forget the past. Can you remember what granddad used to tell us? 'Everyone makes mistakes, the definition of a man is he who can learn from them, and never repeat them again.'"

"I think it was more in the way of: 'The definition of a man is he who can learn enough from his mistakes to never repeat them again.' "

"Oh, well, memory's slipping you know, age catching up with me."

"Your dead, you can't age."

"Not our position to judge the powers that be. Anyway take heart and get some sleep Son, you need it."

"Thanks, Dad." With his pain forced under control, it came out through anger and sarcasm.

Dief had finished his between snacks snack and jumped back to the bed, licking Ben gently, as he curled up in his place beside the Mountie. Fraser swallowed again as he unconsciously rubbed the wolf behind his ears, and stared at the sparse small flakes of spring snow as they danced outside his window.

May 7 1996 :::Five weeks later:::

"Hey, you know Victoria's getting released tomorrow?" Ray said absently over his typewriter as he plugged away at the week's paperwork.

This yanked Fraser back from the no-mans-land his mind had wandered to. "No. No, Ray, I did not know that."

"Doc finally said she's strong enough to switch hands. I think Ford got sick and tired of waiting."

"She's being transferred to Juliet?"

"Yup, and let me tell you, I'll sleep a whole lot better when she's locked in there permanently."

"Ah." Ben wished he could agree, but had been prison that turned Victoria into the monster she was now. It was a vicious cycle, but then again, it hadn't only been prison...

Ray continued, oblivious to Fraser's sudden introspection.

"Anyway, I have friends that will keep us updated, if it goes to trial we might have to testify."

"I know." He knew, but didn't want to. The thought of assisting in her incarceration tied Fraser's stomach in knots. She'd be charged with first-degree murder and there was a very real possibility of the death penalty under Illinois law.

Ray returned to his game of hunt and peck.

"Um, Ray. That should be an 'a'."

"Oh, don't even start that again, Fraser."

"I'm sorry."

The longing for Victoria had diminished to a bearable point within Ben's soul, but at the slightest provocation it would come roaring back and make up for the calm in between. He knew he had to make his decision, and soon, before he lost any opportunity to do anything. Which would be something that he would almost certainly live to regret. That was the last thing he needed, more regrets. He looked at the clock above Ray's desk. "I really should get going."

"Okay, I'll see you tomorrow. I'm going to need help on that Mendovez case. Oh, and tell the Dragon Lady I said hi."

"Will do. Dief!"

The wolf gave a disinterested grunt as he left his comfortable spot at

Elaine's feet, and followed Fraser out of the precinct.

:::Early Evening:::

Ben tipped his hat at the security guard as she punched in the access code to Victoria's secure room. He had made his decision, and hoped beyond all hope he could retain the strength to stick to it. During the walk to the hospital he repeated the plan over and over in his mind until it was etched in his memory; he'd thank her for helping him, wish her luck, give her the number of that defense attorney he knew, and that would be the end of it.

As he stepped into the barren room he thought again. 'Just stick to the plan.'

She stood in front of the window, staring blankly at the city below her as she unconsciously rubbed at the collar of her periwinkle sweater. As he stepped in, she turned to face him, not bothering to hide the surprise that punctuated her features. She smiled, rather the corners of her mouth turned up a little, as she said, "Hi."

"Hello, Victoria." Very little scarring from the beating remained. Were it not for the drawn expression of anxiety, and the pain in her eyes, she was almost the Victoria he'd known before.

"Ray told me you are to be released tomorrow."

She turned back to the window. "Yes. I still have to see a psychiatrist a few times a week but...I should be okay."

"I see." He paused as he racked his brain for the right words. The only sound in the small space came from her breathing and the monotonous tick from the clock above the doorway. It was as if the anguish in their souls had seeped into the air, and the resulting ambiance compounded his distress. "I just came by to thank you."

She half laughed with irony. "What for?"

"Telling the truth. I wanted to thank you for not..." He didn't finish the sentence, and as it faded out it seemed to belong to the tension in the room.

"Well, I guess you're welcome." Her voice was small and far away, swallowed in memories.

There was a long silence as Fraser wrestled with his emotions. His heart ached to take her into his arms and smooth away that wrenching expression from her face, but his head swam with the past and bitter distrust. A man once bitten, twice shy. Finally he let out the breath he didn't know he'd been holding and spoke, his voice quavering in harmony with his soul. "I'm sorry there's nothing more I can do."

Victoria turned from the window to face her life, formed into the shape of a man. A man she loved so deeply it had destroyed her. He leaned against the doorframe, holding his Stetson with an expression of tortured uncertainty that made it hard for her to breathe. Her voice remained quiet as the words flowed forth unsteadily.

"Ben, it...it wasn't me behind everything that happened. I mean, I could have done a lot more to prevent it. I guess it was partially my fault it started, and I will have to pay the consequences for that, I know. But I never meant for it to go so far."

Ben bowed his head, averting his eyes from her pleading stare should she see his vulnerability.

Her voice dropped another octave, as tears loomed closer. "I do love you, you know."

This was followed by a silence that twisted into her like a knife. She continued staring at him, begging with her brimming eyes until she lost control, and turned back to the window to hide the tear as it slid unchecked down her cheek.

There was another long, awkward silence, as Ben forced himself to ignore his heart and finish his mission.

"You'll be needing a lawyer..."

He heard his words clear but distant, feeling as though they came from

another body and not the one writhing in hidden agony as he was now.

"That shouldn't be a problem. There's not much to do." Her voice was edged with nervous, empty laughter.

She is just going to give in? he thought, as a new wave of pain washed over him. Fraser realized he was hedging, he had to leave, and quickly.

"Well, if you change your mind, here's the number to a very good attorney who happens to be a friend of mine." His words remained detached. "Good luck, Victoria."

Before she could say something that would render his legs permanently

immobile, which he guessed wouldn't take much more than a simple farewell, Ben signaled to the guard to let him out. As stepped softly from the room he whispered "goodbye", and he watched the door close his heart inside.

6: THE TRUTH ENSLAVED

January 23, 1998

The small but numerous flakes of snow fell with all the intensity of a summer thundershower, attacking the city of Chicago with all the force and fury Mother Nature could dig up. The temperature had dropped below zero for the second night in a row, breaking fan belts and freezing the batteries of the few cars that had not been buried in the six inches of snow that had fallen in the preceding 36 hours. The storm was shutting down the city bit-by-bit, leaving it's residents wondering what ghastly crime they had committed to produce such wrath from above. However one woman didn't wonder, a woman quite accustomed to these types of storms, and what in the way of life-transformation they brought to her. Never one to miss an opportunity, Victoria braved an hour of exposure as she painstakingly picked her way through the snowed-in sidewalks. Her heart heavy with fear yet buoyed with the drug of faith, and hope.

The imposing brick edifice of the Canadian Consulate did little to ease her fears as she knocked hesitantly. Just as she raised her hand to knock again, the door swung open. Revealing a sleep-ruffled Fraser in his customary led Long johns.

At first he couldn't tell who the bundle of winter clothing was, until she raised her head enough for him to make out her eyes. For a fleeting moment his heart swelled with some kind of relief and delight, but before he could act on it a cruel hand of reality swept it away. Oh....god...Victoria... He thought, the name freezing his mind into a useless mass of fear. He opened his mouth and then closed it again, like a fish gasping for air. They stood like that for upwards of a minute before Fraser could manage a hoarse. "What are you doing here?" He refused to let himself notice as she flinched. Her eyes looked haunted...tormented but her voice with fringed with hope.

"I need to talk to you."

"I don't...think there is much to say...if your looking for a legal sanctuary you know I can't help you." The whirling snow that blocked out everything behind her brought back memories he viciously shoved aside in his struggle to keep his voice even.

"Legal sanctuary? Oh! No, Fraser. I'm..." She shivered as a gust of wind bit through her clothing. "It's so complicated...could you just let me in to warm up a minute?"

With a reluctant sigh he stepped aside and allowed her to pass into the small foyer. His lips pressed together in a thin line of frustration as his heart and mind ruthlessly wrestled with each other,

reason and love, trust and loneliness, ashes to ashes.

She stomped the snow from her boots. "Makes you miss home doesn't it?"

"What?"

"The storm, doesn't it make you homesick?"

Fraser tilted his head. "At times."

She sighed as she unwrapped her scarf and removed her hat, letting the static disarray of short midnight black curls free to stick up wherever they chose. "I take it they didn't tell you anything."

His heart jumped and lodged into his throat when he noticed, and remembered the loss of her hair. "If when you say "they" you mean the FBI, no, those involved were sworn to secrecy and the case was sealed." He sounded like a drowning cat, voice tight and thick.

"Oh..." She waited, looking around the entry for some sort of chairs but after finding none, and finding no hint, subtle or otherwise, would win her an invitation upstairs she began to speak, a story she'd re-told a hundred times and was now more a memorized address. "In exchange for my testimony against Zuko I was officially pardoned of all charges, State and Federal. He was convicted on his last appeal about two weeks ago so I'm now sort of an unofficial-official protected witness."

As much as he wanted to blindly believe this he knew better, and stayed aloof; keeping his arms folded tightly across his chest and his face blank.

"You know how my sister rebelled against our childhood and spent most of her life on the street."

"Yes."

"She contracted Hepatitis C while I was in prison and by the time I got out she was hospitalized and on the donor list. It was only about a week later that they found a match. Lucky for us a live match...the woman was clinically brain-dead. But there was another possible recipient on the list, and she was far more qualified for it than my sister. So the doctors left it up to money, thinking the other woman would surely get it since Natalie didn't have any insurance to speak of and contracted the disease in a less-than- innocent way. What they didn't count on was me, and the fact that I still knew where the money from the robbery was, and how to get to it." Victoria licked her lips as her mouth had suddenly gone dry.

"You see originally the money was supposed to had been laundered through foreign banks, but after things went so bad Jolly went hysterical. Both Ed and I were afraid we'd be set up as the scapegoats so we agreed, at his urging, to smuggle it out and he'd hide it with a friend of his who had mob connections and subsequent laundering potential. We didn't count on Jolly finding out only minutes after Ed left, the abuse I took because of it, and the state he could work himself into. Ed didn't have a chance, as soon as he returned Jolly attacked him and there was barely a struggle before Ed was shot. Jolly ran, I never did know where too, and while Ed was dying he told me how to access the money should I ever need to, and gave me the number to a friend who could smuggle me into Canada."

"I see..." By sheer force of will the Mountie forced his voice under control. What was it about her that stripped his defenses so easily? "I thought...I was always under the impression that your other partner was killed in some sort of automobile accident."

"I guess Jolly or someone came back after I left and set that up, they found his body washed up on shore in the arm with a broken guardrail not far from it. The body was almost unrecognizable so I guess they didn't suspect foul play. It was never mentioned in the trial because Jolly wasn't about to bring it up and if I had I would have had to admit to knowing where the money was, and the mob contacts, which I knew, would have been suicide. I had no interest in that money, I never had."

"But you just said you co spirited with Ed to get it away from Jolly."

"It was that or let Jolly take it for himself and leave us to pay for it." She sighed, now finally being free to tell him the circumstances that got her caught up in that robbery. But that was only a side note, there was too much else to explain. "Anyway when Natalie needed the money I knew where it was, and I couldn't let her die so I found Ed's so called "friend" who was none too pleased with parting with it. He had to give me direct funds since they hadn't laundered the original cash yet, so it worked out more that I was borrowing it than taking back what was mine...relatively speaking. I had to sell my soul to the mob to do it basically but at the time I didn't care. The exchange went smoothly and for about a week I was in relative bliss, the operation had gone well...Nat was fully on the road to recovery...then I got a phone call. The so called "friend" had another friend who'd been humiliated and roughed up by a couple of cops in Chicago, and wouldn't luck have it but one of them was the Mountie that turned me in."

Fraser winced with this and began to pace, he needed something something to relieve a little of the pressure building inside him.

She ran a hand absently through her static mass of curls as she sank into a sitting position against the wall behind her. "It wasn't supposed to be so severe. You where going to be set up for the possession and the exchange; but...but I needed more time, and then I saw Jolly that first night. I knew he wanted the money and revenge. I was so scared I just...stayed. That night though when I was planting the money I'd pried open your trunk, figuring it to be a logical place to hide tainted cash. But there was your gun. I wasn't armed so I grabbed it without letting myself think it through." She paused.

"I'd underestimated Frank, he thought my extended time with you was a sign that I was double crossing, and sent a guy after me. So when you ran after Ray that evening he had been waiting and charged in...it was dark and he was disguised...I was so terrified I thought at first it was Jolly so I reached for your gun. I realized too late what a mistake it had been, he attacked me and Dief attacked him ...to defend me I guess. Before I knew just what had happened I had lost the gun and your wolf had been shot. I realized who the guy was then and didn't have a choice but to leave with him..."

He stopped pacing but still refused to look at her. "Why didn't you tell me?"

She snorted. "Seriously Ben, you'd already tried butting heads with Zuko. Where did it get you?"

The question was met by silence as Fraser moved to the window and braced his hands on the sill, blankly staring at the snow.

"I still wonder if he had something to do with bringing Jolly into it. It wasn't two hours after I'd explained what had happened before he had another plan that would 'take care of everything.' I don't think anyone could come up with something so devious that fast. He wanted me to set you and Ray up for Jolly's murder but it was just the last straw. I knew what prison was like, and couldn't imagine doing that to you. But when I started hesitating he called a contact in Seattle to 'Take care of the Metcalfe sister.'"

The Mountie's head sagged even as his shoulders knotted in pain. "Victoria...this is so hard for me to believe. Why in god's name should I trust you? When have you ever done something that was for anything but your own benefit?"

His words hurt but she imagined herself beyond any real feeling. "Since forever, Fraser, I didn't save your life ten years ago to serve myself, I didn't avoid killing you when I had the chance to serve myself." Her voice lowered. "I didn't let you go to serve myself."

There was another taxing silence before she started again.

" When Ray mortgaged his house to get you out Frank wanted to continue with the exchange to get back the money. In order to do that I had to blackmail you into it and at that point I didn't care about Natalie, I wouldn't make you turn your back on your friend. I guess I'd always hoped you and Ray could put your heads together and figure out what was going on, even if it was at my own expense. But I knew that if I made you help with the exchange it would seal your guilt, I wouldn't accept so Zuko cut me a deal. If I could get you to come with me he'd let you out of his net since it had been Ray he was trying to punish anyway. But he knew I was at a self-destructive point, so he warned that my every move would be watched, and since I didn't know the guy we were supposed to exchange the diamonds with he'd guide me through an earpiece. Someone must have leaked the information on where the cash came from, that's the only way I can explain the fiasco with the thief. But the strange thing was when I picked you up, all of a sudden the earpiece went dead and I couldn't see my tail. Then you still refused to go with me and I realized what sitting ducks we were, how easily Zuko could rig the private plane to crash, and even if we did make it to freedom I realized just how it would have killed your spirit to live as a fugitive from justice..." She stopped with a shaky breath, her resolve starting to crumble.

"That's why you kicked me out..." Ben said quietly from the window.

"Yes, I couldn't do that to you. I ran without thinking, but you were one step ahead of me. I was so confused, and scared, and hurting. All I could see was how much I needed you but how you would never trust me again. There was no way to prove the mob's involvement; their lawyer's would have torn apart my credibility in a second. But you kept looking at me..." Her voice cracked and she bit her lip. "I need...I needed you...I needed to be with you...to come with me. For an instant, when you ran to me, I felt...whole. That bullet might as well have hit me too because something inside me died in that moment." She had to stop as memories opened the floodgates of emotional pain.

Fraser turned around to see Victoria's face twisted in pain. He continued his silence though his eyes now glowed sympathetic. There was an inherent honesty to her words, her hurt. Even if she was the world's greatest actress this was still one hell of a show.

It only took a minute or two for her to compose herself, as came from years of practice. When she lifted her head her face wore a guarded expression, eyes hooded and cold. "I never saw Natalie again, they killed her in a freak explosion as soon as she was released from the hospital. I had a few friends from prison that helped me hide but I was running from two very formidable forces, the mob and the feds. It was only a matter of time before one or the other found me. I guess after Irene's death and Sorrento's disloyalty Zuko lost his mind. With his grudge for Ray renewed, he blamed me for Irene's death, and tortured me for it. Finally leaving me locked in that cellar...I guess you know how the rest goes."

He wanted to believe her, oh how he wanted to believe her. "Victoria..." He started and stopped as the words he'd meant to form faded into nothing. Fraser was crumbling, knew it, and couldn't force himself not to show it as he pinched his nose with one hand and hugged his chest with the other. After what seemed like an eternal silence he spoke, the phrase barely audible. "What do you want?"

"I don't...I don't know...Forgiveness? I guess..." She pushed herself up as though bearing a tremendous weight. "I wanted you to know...the truth." She pulled on her jacket unceremoniously.

"I can't let you back out in that."

She smiled now, a sad expression of hopelessness. "I can take care of myself Ben." She dug two business cards from her pocket and set them on the small desk by the door. "If you have any questions here are the number to the Agent who handled my end of the case, my lawyer, and my hotel." She opened the door, pausing for a moment before closing it again and crossing to where he still stood by the window. Their eyes shone with tears as she gently touched his cheek. "I'm so sorry Ben" The apology was barely a whisper. "So sorry."

Her presence was, as always, mesmerizing. He slid a hand around her waist, bringing her closer as the other found it's way over her back. She tilted her head as their lips met in the slightest of kisses and he murmured against her mouth. "So am I."

They stood staring at each other until her lower lip began to tremble. She pulled away roughly as he breath caught with a sob, and ran into the storm, slamming the door so hard it shook the Consulate; and Fraser's spirit.

7) SWEET SURRENDER

The greater Chicago area being in a state of emergency the Canadian Consulate was temporarily shut down, leaving Fraser the much-needed free time he needed to research Victoria's story...in between helping friends shovel their driveways and roofs. He knew the numbers she had left him couldn't be trusted, but using them for a starting point he found his way to more reliable sources of his own. Surprisingly they not only collaborated her story but also gave him instructions to further evidence that would either explain an inconsistency or lead him to another witness...Natalie Metcalfe's doctors, the family of the young woman who was actually killed in the Scagway accident. Thus it appeared, as hard as it was to accept, that she was telling the truth.

Which is how, three days later, he found himself bidden by his heart, at the door of her hotel room and knocking gently.

The tapping jerked Victoria from her book and sent cold fingers of fear through her heart. As quietly as possible she slipped her sidearm from it's place beside the bed and crept to the door, opening it and leveling the weapon at whatever offensive embodiment of humanity stood at the other side. "Fraser!" She cried, dropping the gun with surprise. "What???"

At the sight of her fresh from the shower, shiny eyed, rosy cheeked, and curly haired the Mountie all but attacked her with a brutal kiss. He lifted her straight off her feet as he pulled her into his arms and continued his passionate assault while her pinning her firmly against the door. Drunk with feeling he hardly noticed her hands pushing at him and the small cries of discomfort she could make with her mouth otherwise occupied. Finally she dug her nails into his shoulders. He drew back suddenly, easing her to the floor and rubbing her ribs as he realized he'd knocked the air from her. "Easy, don't panic." He murmured as she struggled for breath and at last regained it with a sort of shuddering gasp.

Doesn't mean much

Doesn't mean anything at all.

"Jesus Fraser!" She breathed again. "You trying to kill me?"

He chuckled softly and kissed her forehead, sliding her into a much gentler embrace and whispering "maybe" into her kiss-bruised lips before claiming them again.

The life I left behind me was a cold room.

I've crossed the last line

From where I can return.

Where every step I took in faith betrayed me.

And lead me from my home...

He took her breath away this time with tenderness, caressing her sides and back softly, his kiss almost magically rubbing away the brutality of his previous attentions. Her heart swelled as she realized what it meant and bent to it willingly as his smell; wood smoke, snow, leather, and the faintest underlacing of old spice, filled her senses. She slid her hands over his shoulders and through his hair, longer than she had ever remembered it as it actually curled through her fingers and began to return the kiss.

Sweet.....Sweet Surrender

Is all that I have to give.

Her hesitance at returning touch turned something inside Fraser and he noted to himself to make this about her, to take away at least a little of that lost and embittered look in her eyes.

She watched as he moved along her jaw line with a trail of light kisses, stopping at the pulse point of her neck to tease and prod the tender skin with his tongue. She swallowed hard as a surge of love ran though her.

You take me in

No questions asked.

Her skin was like silk, flavored with soap, salt, and that unique and exotic taste that was just her, driven by this he parted her soft pink robe and slid it from her shoulders. The room was slightly chill and he brought her body close to his to ward it off as he continued remembering with his tongue.

You strip away the ugliness that surrounds me.

Victoria gasped softly as he dipped yet lower. Her hands slid out of his hair and under the collar of his jacket, slipping it off before dropping lower to his waist and slowly under the soft knit of his sweater; Her fingers creeping softly over the firm smooth muscles of his belly as they moved up.

Are you an angel?

Am I already that gone?

Fraser broke away from her reluctantly as she pulled his sweater and undershirt over his head in one fluid movement. Without missing a beat he dropped and slid an arm behind her knees, sweeping her into his arms and with a series of easy steps set her across the bed. She reached to cup his cheek as he crawled next to her, but he caught her hand midair and slid her fingers into his mouth with a low groan. His tongue learned them anew in what had become a sort of erotic ritual. Only after he'd explored every millimeter of her fingers did he release them to kiss down along her palm and tease the pulse point at her wrist.

Oh I only hope that I won't disappoint you.

When I'm down here on my knees....

What was it about the fingers that heated her blood like a forest fire? She could manage only this coherent thought through the haze of lust that clouded her mind, until the glorious touch of his tongue reached the rubbery circles of the scars. "Oh god, Victoria..." She heard, the stress in his voice hurtling her back to reality. Her eyes opened to see face constricted in pain. "Shhh....it's okay Ben."

"No...no it's not." His voice was strained.

She pulled him down onto her, bringing them face to face as she traced the outline of his skull with her thumbs. "Don't think about it, don't ruin this..." They kissed, a gentle brushing of lips. "It's over."

He groaned into her hair as she ran her fingers along the sensitive skin of his sides as he st

straddled her and pressed their hips together.

And sweet.....sweet surrender!

Is all that I have to give...

She cried out softly as she pressed against him and he moved his mouth lower...

I don't understand...

How this touch of your hand.

Ohhhhh I would be the one to fall.

It hit Ben suddenly as she responded so virulently how much he missed this, how much he needed it. It had been two and a half years and he was a man in his prime, he couldn't let her go again...he couldn't.

I miss the little things

I miss the simple things

Oh I missed everything everything about you.

With every ounce of willpower she had left she force him off her and unceremoniously removed his jeans. Then as she moved back up their eyes met and they stared at each other as though suspended in time. Neither wanting to ever forget the moment.

It doesn't mean much...

Doesn't mean anything at all.

The life I left behind me is a cold room.

Now robbed of any pretense or humor Ben gently rolled back atop her, framing her face with his arms as he brushed her lips one last time with his tongue and lost control.

Sweet...sweet surrender.

Is all that I have to give!

8: MEMORIES TRAPPED IN TIME

"Nice to know you still don't lock your doors." Victoria said with a smile as she walked into Ben's office.

"Old habit." He replied with a smile as he moved from his desk and pulled her into a hug.

She returned it, falteringly: "What was that wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am leave without a whisper thing this morning?"

"Sorry, I had to work and I didn't want to wake you." He leaned back slightly as he realized what she was wearing; a knee length red silk evening dress and heels that nearly brought her to his same height, her hair carefully gelled into place, and makeup dark and sultry. His stomach twinged as he realized she was planning something...

"Hmmm...well...I might forgive you." She returned, any seriousness the phrase might have held negated by the humor in her voice.

"If?"

"You take me to le fleur de leis." She smiled impishly as she toyed with his collar; it was a highly coveted French restaurant.

He chuckled. "You drive a hard bargain."

"Well?" She put on her innocent damsel-in-distress look and ran her hands over his chest. He was wearing his brown serge and it sent her hormones reeling.

Ben stiffly cleared his throat separated himself from her, knowing full well that if he didn't move they wouldn't be moving...for a long time. "I'll just...change into dress uniform and...we'll go."

" 'Kay, I'll be downstairs." She winked as she left his office and fairly skipped down into the foyer, until she heard a familiar whine behind her. " Oh Dief..." She whispered her voice full of guilt.

The wolf tilted his head questioningly, the presence of his master's mate putting his instincts on alert. He whined again and took a hesitating step toward her. Remembering little from their last meeting but discomfort and the vet.

"Dief..." Victoria murmured as she knelt and carefully scratched between his ears. "Thank you so much....so much."

Though he couldn't remember the occasion that granted him the praise, Dief was never one to turn aside a compliment. He barked happily and licked at her face, wondering if there was anything in the way of doughnuts in her purse..

The moment ended suddenly as a skinny street-wise looking guy with spiky blonde hair, piercing blue eyes, and a nasty attitude walked in the front door. Victoria virtually jumped out of her skin and gasped as she reached for the gun usually at her waist, and finding it not there.

Ray stared for only an instant at the beautiful woman before him before his mind opened the right file and he put a name to the face. In a split second and running off solid instinct he drew his gun and yelled "FREEZE!!!"

Victoria also switched to instinct and dropped to the floor just as a bullet whizzed above her, smashing through the wall. She screamed "FRASERR!!!" as she rolled toward him and onto her feet, completing the maneuver by throwing a shoulder into his stomach and flattening him against the wall. Then, again before he could respond, she spun with a deadly accurate kick that threw the weapon from his hand.

Kowalski yelled and jumped her like a dog in a fight, tackling her to the floor and pinning her arms to her sides. She quickly moved to draw her knees up between his legs but anticipated it dug his knees into her thighs to hold her legs still. Having the advantage of weight he managed, barely, to hold her as she screamed with pain struggled to get away.

All of this transpired in a manner of seconds before Fraser barreled down the stairway. The scene before him caught his mind between humor and danger "It's okay Ray!" He called above the din of curses and cries the two were making. "Let her go!"

"Tell 'er to stop hittin' me!"

"Victoria this is my partner, Ray Kowalski."

She was far too preoccupied with the fact that her legs were being crushed to Fraser's words. Finally, with a burst of fight-or-die strength, she managed to wrench her hand away from his grasp and land a solid punch to Ray's jaw. The force of the impact knocked him off-balance and consequently off her legs which she promptly brought to her chest, mindless of the unladylike posture.

"What the hell's goin' on Fraser?" Ray asked, incredulously as felt his jaw to see if it was broken.

"I should think that would be rather obvious, Ray."

"Ray?" Victoria said, her perception beginning to clear as the pain faded.

"Yes." Fraser pulled her into a sitting position. "He replaced Ray Vecchio..." The Mountie's voice trailed off as he noticed her starting to tremble and gasp for air. "Victoria are you Alright?"

She shook her head as a terrible weight settled on her chest and the blood drained from her head. She struggled for air in fast, short breaths and she grabbed her chest.

Fraser immediately recognized the symptoms of a panic attack and put his arms around her from behind, forcing her to sit straight and ease pressure on the lungs. "Easy...easy, breathe nice and slow..."

Ray watched, baffled at the tenderness in Fraser's eyes and the concern in his voice as he helped the woman that had just about killed him through some sort of breathing seizure thing. There was something sacred about it and even though his temper seethed he kept silent.

The attack gradually lessened its grip and Fraser let her go as her breathing returned too normal. "Are you taking medication for this?"

"Yes." She answered, her voice quiet, spent. "Some things can override it."

"Wait a minute Fraser you knew she was here??"

"Yes."

"And you haven't arrested her???!!!"

"I can't, Ray. She's a federally protected witness."

"What the hell??????"

Ben sighed and rubbed his temples. "It's a long story..."

"I'm sorry....Ray." She said his name hesitantly. "I thought you were...someone else."

"Yeah." The puzzle began to fit itself together in the cop's head. "You got proof you're a "witness"."

"You know I can't carry that with me, but I have numbers..."

"Actually she does, I called the agent in question myself...and a few others." Fraser interrupted.

Victoria stood with a wince, pale and still visibly trembling. "You should tell him, Ben. I'm...I'm going to go lay down." She then limped toward the stairs and his office.

"Yer just gonna let 'er up there alone?"

"Yes, I'm sure she thought you were sent to kill her."

"Good luck."

Fraser cracked his neck as he turned to Ray, who still stood with his arms defiantly crossed and face fixed in a look that could kill. A bruise had already begun to color along his jaw line and he sighed. "How much did the report tell you?"

"That she was in the can for ten years for driving the getaway car in a robbery or somethin' and you turned her in so she came back after she got out and tried to take you and the other Ray down...said she killed her partner?"

Ben nodded and set into the long and complicated explanation of her record and what the record didn't say.

~

"So you really believe this Frase?" Ray asked much later, now sitting against the wall across from Ben who was seated on the stairs.

"Yes....I don't...I don't know how much I can trust her. She wasn't wholly innocent but..." He couldn't quite bring himself to state aloud the reason he'd accepted her back into his life, couldn't quite bring himself to admit he needed her. "She doesn't have anywhere else to go."

Ray could see through Fraser's words, but keeping his distance in the guy way he let it drop. "How'd ya find her anyway?"

There was a hesitation before he spoke. "The plane she escaped Alaska in crashed and I tracked her and her companion, the pilot, from there. The pilot deserted her but I continuously underestimated her survival abilities and didn't catch up until a blizzard forced her to hole up on the lee side of a mountain. I found her there but by that time the storm had completely closed us in, so we kept each other alive over the next two days and nights. When the storm broke I arrested her and it took us four days to get to the nearest outpost." He paused. "That last night we'd camped just outside of the village..." He shifted uncomfortably. "You see I don't, I didn't, entirely blame her for her...her anger, her need for vengeance when she returned. You see that night, after we...She asked me to let her go. I couldn't...promise that...as much as I wanted to. I was still young and my head was full of the code of justice and duty, so I convinced her of it...and promised that I'd do everything in my power to help her." He swallowed. "She was imprisoned and expedited quickly, the case having gained more than it's fair share of attention. That and my superiors looked down on her as another corrupt American... they scared me off, and I never saw her or made an effort to see her after I left her at the outpost."

"She ever tell you why she helped what's-his-name with the robbery to begin with?"

"No, she's alluded to it. I know she was living with him, Jolly at the time...and I know he was violent. She came from a very dysfunctional family, her mother died in childbirth with her sister and her father was an alcoholic fisherman who...used her...in more ways than one."

Kowalski ran his fingers through his hair, which was already taking on a new stage of experimentalism after the fight. "What about Vecchio?"

"I don't...think that would be prudent...just yet." Ben looked at him curiously, this being one of the few times he'd actually ventured to mention the former Ray Vecchio. "He isn't much of one for forgiving, I'm afraid that that meeting would end tragically before a word has been spoken."

He smiled. "All right Frase. Now how you gonna explain that..." he pointed to the bullet hole in the wall. "...to the Ice Queen?"

Ben stood to see what his friend was gesturing at and gasped. "Oh....dear...."

"You got any pictures or anything?"

"Yes!" Fraser dashed into Turnbull's office and returned with a picture of the previous years' musical ride and a countersink tack, and immediately began busying himself with mounting the picture in the proper order of Mountie precision.

Ray chuckled and turned for the door. "Be careful Frase, K?"

"Wait, Ray, what did you come to see me about?"

"Oh just got a case thingy I wanted you to look at; it c'n wait. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Alright goodbye, Ray..." Ben tilted the picture one last time to check plumb, and with another satisfying crack of the neck set up the stairs for what would undoubtedly be a long night.

9: SEA OF WAKING DREAMS

February 3 :::Night:::

Tangled in the white sheets of the hotel bed and bathed in the glow of candles, Victoria proceeded to work the knots from Ben's shoulders and back with deftly skilled hands. The room was contentedly quiet save the occasional pleased groan Fraser emitted as she administered to a particularly sore spot. As she finished and snuggled down beside him he simultaneously covered them with the downy comforter and pulled her close to him, burying his face in her hair as he slid his fingers between hers. "That was wonderful."

"Mmm." Her response was distant and quiet.

There was a long space of quiet before he kissed her ear and timidly whispered. "I love you, Victoria."

The phrase couldn't have come at a more in-opportune time, and Victoria tensed as a flood of emotions ran though her, love, pleasure, fear, anger, ...pain.

Fraser sensed the change and shifted gently to see her face, the eyes brimming with tears. "What's wrong?"

She exhaled violently, and inhaled with a sob as she pressed her forehead onto his shoulder. "Too much Fraser....too much." The words were barely whispered as she fought for control.

Ben strengthened his hold on her as he scolded himself for moving too fast. He past week had been a heaven he hadn't known existed, and as usual he ruined it. "I'm sorry."

"No!" She looked up quickly. "Not you, it just...I don't know...the whole situation. It's too...perfect."

He relaxed slightly. "I know..."

"I guess...It's wonderful but too much because I know it can't last forever, and I'm so...afraid of it not..."

He pressed his fingers to her lips. "Shhhh...don't think about that Victoria. Don't let yourself think...just...feel."

His words settled her a little. As she settled back into his arms Fraser found the opportunity to ask the question that had been burning in his mind for twelve years: "Victoria I don't, I need to understand...Why did you go along with Jolly?

"You mean...with the robbery?"

"Yes."

She sighed. "You sure you want to know?"

"Yes."

She bit her lip. "I have always wanted to be an artist, since I was a little girl. But that meant college, which was never an option in our house. So I got in with a scholarship but that doesn't pay for tuition, room and board...I had to get a side job but what they don't tell you about getting a full scholarship is that you have to take classes and retain a GPA that eats 12 to 14 hours out of your day." Her mind went blank as it always did at this point, the humiliation and self-hatred the memory induced wiping it clean.

"Tell me..." He pleaded gently. "I'll understand."

"Ben you don't..." She sighed. "A friend told me about a strip club she worked for and thought I'd...do well...she set up an audition. I was hired and it paid incredibly well for what little work I had to do. I gradually became a sort of...commodity; and was surviving. But then Natalie left home and started getting in trouble...My landlord knew what I was doing and would show up at the club sometimes, he absolutely repulsed me but he tipped well and always offered more if I'd go out with him. I couldn't find another place for the same price so I dealt with it. Then Natalie came to me needing help. I couldn't see another option so I asked him what he wanted and what he'd pay...and we worked out a deal." Didn't matter what the provocation, she couldn't say aloud what the terms of the deal were.

"You really loved her didn't you."

"Who?"

"Your sister."

"Yes...she was all I had. Jolly never counted what I did for him against my debt. So when he came to me with his robbery idea in need a good evasive driver and claiming I owed him upwards of 50 grand I had little choice. I didn't know Ed well, he did business with Jolly, but I think he kind of took pity on me...which is part of why he risked what he did...afterwards."

She related this in the same detached tone she reverted to whenever recalling something particularly painful.

The story tugged at Ben's heart, despite being over-emotional and his voice showed this in the underlying pain. "Why didn't you tell me before?"

She bit her bottom lip. "I didn't want you to think...I was..."

"I would have understood..."

"No you wouldn't, Fraser. You know that."

He stared at the window, knowing she was right, and hating himself all the more for it. "That fact aside, I'm not one to repeat my mistakes."

"Mistake?" Victoria lifted her head to meet his eyes, dark and snapping with desire; and before she could respond he engulfed her in a powerful kiss.

February 5 :::Night:::

Stars glittered off the gently rolling waves of Lake Michigan as the air snapped with the clear night's cold. Victoria and Fraser, both more or less oblivious to the chill, walked along the icy, deserted beach. "Reminds me of Ninilchik." She said wistfully.

"Homesick?"

"Not really...I don't miss the memories." She smiled. "But I miss the beauty, I always wanted to capture it in paint but after I went to Anchorage I never made it back."

"Some..." The blast of a gunshot cut him off.

Victoria dove toward Fraser in a split-second reaction, sending them both to the ground. Another bullet whizzed overhead as he whispered "trees" and they began crawling toward them. The attacker emptied a round above and around them before they reached the shelter of the small forest that surrounded that side of the lake. "Jesus." She whispered as they slid behind a thicket of willow. She turned to Ben, and noticed that he was holding his arm. "Oh god! You're hit!"

He shrugged. "Flesh wound, did you see him?"

"No...." She had an inkling of who it was but the prospect was too horrifying for her to fully admit it yet. The bullet, from the first shot, had entered his arm at an angle from the back, just barely missing the bone and exiting through the other side. "Dammit." She muttered as she ripped off a piece of his undershirt and tenderly wrapped it around the wounds.

"Shhhh." He whispered as a twig snapped not far along the trail they'd just followed.

Victoria carefully unholstered her gun and released the safety as her eyes struggled to see through the darkness of a moonless night. Another twig snapped, at what couldn't have been 50 feet away and she shook her head just as a bullet tore through the thicket a few feet beside them. "He must have info-red goggles." She whispered in Fraser's ear. "I can't see a damn thing."

He nodded and gestured toward the parking lot a few hundred yards away and then to her gun.

She nodded and handed him her keys before shooting into the blackness before them. The assassin returned fire but as she moved constantly in an elusive pattern from tree to tree he couldn't manage a direct shot. However with each firing of his weapon Victoria could hear the direction it was coming from thus increasing her accuracy and conserve what precious ammunition she carried. It took less than three minutes to cover the distance to the parking lot, though it felt more like an eternity in hell. Gradually they reached her car, and she peeled out onto the road.

She constantly watched her mirror and gripped the wheel with white-knuckled hands as she sped along the winding highway. Within ten minutes they reached a small slumbering town and she parked inconspicuously at the backside of a gas station. Without missing a beat she shifted and started to pull at his ruined pea coat. "Here, let me get a decent look at that." She said, her voice small with barely contained tears.

"It's all right." He assured her as he shrugged off his coat.

"No it's not all right Fraser." She argued as she helped him. "I just about killed you again, I'm stupid, reckless, selfish, and...

He cut her off with a short, tender kiss. "It's all right, Victoria."

"Don't...don't." She bit her lip and shook her head as she uncovered the blood-soaked tunic of his uniform. With a strong jerk at the button edge of his sleeve she tore it up the arm, exposing the wound completely. The bullet had been small, 9 mm at most, making the entry wound a minor blip, but the exit had tore through muscle and opened a hole the size of a quarter on the upper side of the arm. It bled profusely and she quickly stripped off the layers of her clothing, using a turtleneck to clean up what she could and the undershirt as a fresh compress.

Fraser watched in a kind of fascination at the dance of erotic compassion she was performing It was enough to almost make him forget the pain but as she re-bandaged it he couldn't help but cry out as he seemed to feel it down to his toes.

"You need to get to a hospital."

"No.."

"Don't argue Fraser, that's not going to stop bleeding without stitches and I don't know what the bullet was made of..." She quickly re-dressed herself and pulled back onto the road. "If we take the highway we should get there in an hour...hang on for me okay?"

"Look Victoria as much as I appreciate this you can't be seen in such a..."

"Shut up okay? Just shut up. I know...and I don't care."

The edge to her voice scared him and he grudgingly kept quiet during what would prove to be one of the longest rides of his life.

10) STILL WATERS RUN DEEP

February 3 :::Late Night:::

Victoria leaned against the wall of the phone booth as she silently prayed her party would pick up.

The shrill buzz of a phone interrupted Stan in the midst of what had been a wonderful Stella-dream. He tried to ignore it, clinging to the dream desperately but at the fourth ring he jerked up and answered it with an irritated. "What?"

"Ray?"

"Yeah?" The voice was familiar, and as the cobwebs cleared from his mind he placed it and sat straight up. "If you hurt him I'll kill you, I swear to god I'll kill you."

"Ray please, we were attacked out of nowhere, I'm sorry I didn't see it..."

"I knew it, where is he?" Kowalski was all ready getting dressed.

"He's with the doctor right now." She swallowed. "He was hit in the arm..."

" 'N they didn't hit you eh?"

"No, the first shot hit Fraser and we ran from there..."

"You expect me to believe that???"

"Yes, Ray please. I know who it was and he's dangerous."

"So are you, I shouldn't have listened to Fraser..."

"Look Ray I need your help, I don't want risk anyone else's life in this but if I have to I will. I know this guy though, I recognized the firing pattern...he...he found me for Zuko before."

"Firing pattern? What the hell?"

"I shot him between the legs Ray, he has a personal vendetta against me which means he's going to go after you and Fraser too."

He hesitated, if she was telling the truth it had the potential to be a very serious situation, but if not he could be walking into a trap... "Where are you?"

"County General ER."

"I'll be there in fifteen minutes." He slammed the phone down and walked out.

~

Ray entered the ER waiting room expecting nothing, but when he caught sight of Fraser and Victoria he sighed with relief. The drive to the hospital had calmed him considerably, and he hadn't been looking forward to bringing her down. In fact, as he watched her fret over Fraser like an obnoxious something softened inside him and he loudly walked over to them

"Ray!" Ben exclaimed in obvious surprise.

Victoria willingly offered and explanation. "I called him, I have a plan."

"I take it you recognized him then." He offered.

"Yes, the firing pattern was the same as the guy Frank hired to find me, or the only one to succeed. He's known as The Needle because he's ruthless, crafty, kills without blinking, and is harder to find than a needle in a haystack; and I removed what makes him a man."

Fraser's eyes widened.

"I survived ten months with the best and worst of both worlds after me, you can't think I gave in without a fight."

He shook his head, remembering all to well the Victoria he'd found a year ago.

"How bad is it?" Ray asked, gesturing to the bandage on Ben's arm.

"Flesh wound." The Mountie refused to let it be an issue.

"Okay we don't have a lot of time here or things will start to look suspicious. I have two choices, either run to the cops and he'll disappear until the chase has died down and then return to finish the job...and believe me he learns from his mistakes. Or I can lie low until I think he's left and then leave Chicago for one of the many hiding places in the world, and he'll simply wait me out and follow me there."

"The FBI..." Ben went to say.

"No, this man is evil, Frank's silent right-hand man. He's killed more people than you know and isn't going to stop until someone stops him; but the only way we're going to do that is to beat him at his own game. Now the good news is he's obviously frenzied with revenge to go after someone who knows so much about him. I'm sure missing me tonight wasn't an option on his planbook."

"So what ya' thinkin'?" Ray asked.

"Something like this..."

February 4 :::Early Morning:::

The dream was vivid and horribly real. She was in Kuala Lampur again, watching Needle walk toward her but as she went to run she found she couldn't move her feet. Panic gripped at her throat as she tried to remember where she'd put her gun. The crowd all turned to face her at once and they all had Zuko's face. She screamed as the ground began to move. "Come with me..." She heard and looked to her side to see Ben running toward her just as The Needle leveled his gun. She screamed again as he pulled the trigger...

Victoria sat up with a gasp, struggling to breathe as the nightmare faded away. She turned to Fraser, who she gratefully hadn't awakened. The pain pills must have been strong as the comforter had nearly slid off him completely. As she went to pull them up her eyes caught the ugly round scar that stood out from the pale perfection of the rest of his back. She'd seen it before but hadn't let it bother her as there was usually something else at hand...but now as she already was besieged by guilt it hurt her anew...her life was a walking war, she thought with a frustrated sigh.

Winter here's cold

And bitter

It's chilled us to the bone...

The high-pitched wail of a police siren temporarily filled the silence of the room as Victoria swung out of bed. The rush of adrenaline she'd been running off of all night gradually giving way to an all too familiar depression.

I haven't seen the sun for weeks.

Too long,

Too far from home.

How could she have been so blind? So stupid as to think he wouldn't be hurt too? Mechanically she swallowed her pills, knowing they wouldn't help when out of no-where the memory monster attacked.

"You must really hate me, for what I did."

"Hate, Love, those to emotions pretty much cover it."

"What aren't you telling me?"

"Nothing..."

"What aren't you telling me!"

"Jolly's out..."

"You son of a bitch you set me up I should have shot you!"

"I should have let you go."

"Well you're going to now."

"I can't....I can't....I can't..."

I feel just like I'm sinking

And I claw for solid ground.

I'm pulled down by the undertow.

Never thought I could feel so low.

She stood up as her soul constricted with pain.

Oh darkness I feel like letting go.

How much can the human heart endure? She wondered, feeling slightly nauseous. Why can't something, anything, for once in her life be easy? Then, out of nowhere, she found herself praying. A marvel of it's own in that she'd given up on god years before.

With all of your strength

And all of your courage

Come and lift me from this place.

She turned to Ben, his ever-peaceful form bathed in the ethereal glow of city darkness.

I know I can love you much better than this.

Full of grace...

Your full of grace...

My love.

No she had to leave, her presence was a danger to anyone around her. She was a walking pariah.

It's better this way

I say

Having seen this place before...

He'd tried to convince her that it wasn't necessary but deep down they both knew it wasn't a matter of choice.

Where everything we say

And do.

Hurts us all the more.

It's just that we've stayed

Too long,

In the same old sickly skin.

Her hand went to her heart as she walked to the window, she'd brought this on him with no one to blame but herself. An ugly, horrifying truth she didn't think she could bear to live with.

I'm pulled down by the undertow

Never thought I could feel so low.

Oh darkness I feel like letting go!

Almost as though bidden by a supernatural force, Ben woke to see her silhouetted against the window. Holding her chest and bent as she was made her look pitifully old and broken, and all at once he knew why. "It's okay Victoria." He said softly as he stood up.

His voice startled her but didn't fail to convey it's meaning. "I know."

"It's okay..."

She started to shake her head as her eyes again filled with tears.

He drew her into his embrace with an unprecedented tenderness as he continued to whisper. "It's okay...it's okay..."

Her will broke with a gut-wrenching sob and he lightly rubbed her back as she let go and years of pent-up pain washed forth in a torrent of emotion.

The force of it rocked Fraser while at the same time filling a hole in himself he didn't know existed. Without being able to completely put his finger on it he knew, without a doubt, that things would never be quite the same between them again.

11) I WON'T FEAR LOVE

February 8 :::Morning:::

Victoria paced the room, tense with worry, as Fraser, dressed for guard duty, watched her from the bed.

"I can't do this anymore Ben."

"Let's hope you won't have to."

She shook her head and resumed her pacing just as a light knock sounded from the door that led to the adjacent room. She nearly cried out with relief as she opened it to find a stout elderly man in a suit. "Thank God!" Victoria exclaimed as she stepped forward to hug him.

"Good to see you too Victoria." He said with a chuckle, returning the embrace.

"Fraser this is Special Agent Tyler. You might say he took me under his wing when I was transferred to DC."

"I see." Ben extended his hand. "Pleasure to meet you sir."

"And you son, you got quite the gift here."

Ben turned the same color as his uniform and Victoria deftly changed the subject. "So Ford let you in on things?"

"Yes, little squirt didn't have a choice; the higher-ups know the Zuko bust is mine."

"Everything's gone according to plan then."

"If that's what Detective Vecchio gave us yes." He stepped inside his room and returned with a large briefcase. "Everything you need and need to know is there, destroy the tapes and the player after you're done listening. But don't open it while Mr. Fraser is still here, it too dangerous to let him know the details."

Ben shifted uncomfortably, still finding the idea of leaving Victoria to risk her life alone almost more than he could bear. But he understood the strategy, and frankly had no choice.

"The train will leave this evening, and every 'passenger' will be enforcement of one sort or another. We aren't leaving anything to chance."

She nodded.

"I gotta get going. The more time I spend in here the less ambiguity this meeting has. I'll see you tonight, let's pray under better circumstances."

Victoria nodded again, afraid of her voice while Fraser said his goodbye. As the door slowly closed they turned to each other. "I guess you have to go now."

He nodded, a lump forming in his throat.

His eyes were innocent light blue they turned when he was distressed. "I'm going to be okay..." She wished she could make herself believe it more, if anything for his sake.

He stepped forward suddenly, placing his hands on either side of her face as he guided her into a gentle but deep kiss, imprinting the moment permanently in his brain. The kiss seemed to go on forever until he finally forced himself to pull away. In a voice hoarse with emotion he dropped his hands and whispered "Be careful, Victoria."

"I will."

He couldn't look at her as he stepped slowly, and then faster away and out of the room.

February 8 :::Late Night:::

An odd mixture of peace and apprehension filled Victoria as she walked into the train station that held so many memories. She hadn't noticed anyone following her as she'd walked from the hotel but she knew The Needle could rarely be recognized. The platform was virtually vacant, it being close to midnight...a perfect spot for ambush. The ticket-holder smiled at her as she asked for passage on the 12:15 to Indianapolis. "Awfully late for a lady like you to be out." It was code for the coast is clear. She smiled back, signaling that she understood.

The experience was new to her, actually trying to get shot at; and taking her time as she walked across the platform to the ladies room made her feel more than a little like a rat in a trap. Though strangely nothing happened. As she stepped inside and into one of the stalls she looked simultaneously at the heating shaft and custodian's closet where she knew agents were waiting inside, just barely making out a movement behind the louvers.

He didn't come, and Victoria began to earnestly fear that he wouldn't as she pretended to be flustered and run to the train. As she boarded she shook her head, signaling that she hadn't seen anything to the other agents in the car that posed as passengers. She searched each of the five faces, not recognizing any of them, and tensely took her seat near the back. One of the officers, a tall Norwegian with white-blonde hair and more freckles than skin stood and walked toward her, thinking that he had a message she moved to shift over just as he lunged and in one smooth movement had her arms pinned in a one handed grip and wrenched her to her feet.. She heard a signature click even before she felt the circle of cold steel pressed to her temple. In an instant she knew was a dead woman.

Within seconds the other men had their weapons drawn, one of them yelling "FREEZE!."

"Guns on the floor or she dies."

It was Needle all right, she could have recognized that voice anywhere...it haunted her dreams. Victoria didn't struggle and stood limply still. "Go ahead guys, my life isn't worth yours." She winked, begging them with her eyes to comply. She knew not only would he kill her but also in a round of shots he'd finish the rest of the men in the compartment and everyone else he ran into until he'd reached his waiting mode of escape.

Blessedly they understood and obeyed, even as he told them to move into the next car, and then guided her off the other side of the platform. "Thought you could outsmart me didn't ya?" He growled in her ear. "I have to hand it to ya it was quite the crafty little plot, but you forgot one of the key rules in this business dear."

She shook her head. "The man in the waiting room."

"Smart girl, too bad you couldn't choose your loyalties."

"All right so you kill me, then what? What have you accomplished? You know life means very little to me now."

"Oh I'm not gonna kill ya, not yet. I've got better plans."

A new terror gripped as the outer-group of officers saw them and went to fire. In a matter of seconds all six were down or dying but during the rapid fire-fight her captor had to shift his position, slightly, but enough for her to wiggle her arm and free a knife to slide into her fingers.

He now fired repeatedly in his customary five shot five pattern as he worked them up the stairs. No one tried to follow in such a contained space and as they reached the sidewalk he rapidly turned around, taking her with him.

A car stood before them, it's back door open, and she took a deep breath as she let the knife slide down so he was holding the handle.

He released her arms as he went to shove her into the car.

She whirled, knocking the gun from his hand as she stabbed the knife into his back just below the shoulder blade.

He grunted as the impact sent him sprawling onto the sidewalk, and looked at her as she recuperated the gun and smiled.

Not know what it meant she closed her eyes and fired. There is about a 60 second reprieve from the time you kill someone until the horror of what you've done hit's you. She kept her eyes closed during those seconds until her stomach started to churn. Gradually she opened them to see what was left of his skull spattered over the rapidly growing pool of dark on the sidewalk...and barely made it to the snow bank before she threw up.

12) COLD COMFORT

February 9 :::Extremely early morning:::

For once Fraser actually encouraged Ray as he recklessly ran red lights and broke speed limits. All Ford would tell them was that things hadn't gone according to plan and there had been casualties. 'If one of 'em's her it's gonna kill 'im." Kowalski thought as stole a glance at Ben. He looked like he couldn't decide whether to faint, puke, or cry. "She's gonna be okay Frase."

"I didn't get a chance to make it up to her..."

"Make up what?"

"Everything...she's been though. What I put her through."

"Hey look I really don't know much about what happened ya know? But it looked to me like you'd made it up to her and some more. You didn't have anything to make up."

Fraser rubbed his eyes with one hand as the other clutched his hat.. "Oh god Ray..."

"Frase don't go there, we don't know yet."

Soon, but not nearly soon enough they reached the hullabaloo of flashing lights and people outside the train station. Bright yellow crime scene tape skirted the area and a young officer headed them off as they tried to cross under it. Ray flashed him his badge without a word as he shoved him aside. An ambulance was parked about fifty feet from the west side exit and Fraser broke into a run. Just in front of the exit a black Mercedes was parked, and on the concrete next to it the medical examiner was just zipping up a body bag next to a huge pool of blood with bone fragments and something else near the top. The Mountie stopped, on the edge of a heart attack, and opened his mouth to find he couldn't form words.

Ray reached the scene right behind him and stopped short. "Who???" He barely managed to spit out, gesturing to the dark pool.

"The mob guy. What do you guys have to do with this?" The field ME asked.

Fraser gasped as he let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. "The woman is..."

"Victoria's a friend of his." Ray finished.

"Really? I guess the FBI set up some kind of entrapment scheme with her but somehow this guy got the details and killed and disguised himself as one of their agents. He tried to make off with her but she killed him before he could get her in the car. He didn't know she had a knife and she finished the job with his gun...unfortunate for him he was using black widows...."

Ray realized what the bone and other stuff was and gagged.

Ben nearly cried with relief. "Where is she?"

"I think the director's got her in his car. Hey Jack!" She yelled to a uniformed officer nearby. "Where'd they put Metcalfe woman?"

"The director went off with her up at the parking lot that way." He pointed to the backside of the building but Fraser had already taken off.

~

Victoria drifted in and out of a disturbed sleep. The car wasn't much in terms of comfort and she was still suffering from the after-shocks of adrenaline. She'd just drifted off again when hard footfalls outside woke her up. The windows had fogged over so she had to open the door get out to see what was going on, and nearly collided with Fraser.

It only took him a second to react and he hauled her into his arms; managing only a strangled "Victoria" tilted his face into the soft fragrant curls of her hair.

She slid her hands in his coat and around his back, seeking comfort in his warmth.

"Are you okay?" He asked at length.

She nodded, unable to speak as she tightened her hold.

Ray cleared his throat behind them. "Uh, you guys wanna ride home?"

"Do you have to stay?" Fraser asked into her hair.

She moved nothing but her head in an eager "no".

"Yes, Ray, I...we would."

" 'K I'll bring the GTO around..."

As soon as he was out of earshot Ben whispered. "They told us things hadn't gone according to plan and there had been casualties." His voice strained. "I thought...I couldn't imagine." It finally cracked. "I love you."

She sniffed against his shoulder and held him closer, if that was in any way possible. "You know why I had to do this Ben, I'm sorry."

They stood the rest of the time in silence, just holding each other. Fraser would later liken it to coming home after a long and harrowing journey. Nothing more to do or say, no more bridges to cross, just peace and contented quiet.

February 10 :::Evening:::

"You never told me what happened to the real Ray Vecchio." Victoria asked over the remains of their Chinese take-out.

Ben hesitated, then forced himself to move beyond his distrust. "A well known member the Iguana branch of the mob was killed during an FBI raid, Ray bore a striking resemblance to him and was offered to go deep undercover to personify the individual. Stanley Kowalski came in as his replacement."

"Stanley Kowalski?" She giggled. "Stella.....STELLAAAA!!!!"

"Apparently his father had a 'thing for Brando'. Ironically, his ex-wife was also named Stella."

"So if he's masquerading as Vecchio shouldn't he be driving that Green thing?"

"Well....errr....umm......"

"Oh god you didn't..."

"Yes, it's resting peacefully in a very protected dock off the Lake they call Michigan."

She busted out laughing. "You mean RUSTING peacefully...He's gonna kill you two when he gets back."

"He is, I'm afraid...I can only hope that after the first few blows he'll listen to reason." He joined in on the laugher.

She watched spellbound as his face lit up, Fraser was never much in the way of humor but when he did laugh he glowed. "You guys look like your getting along pretty well. For as opposite as you are...I mean at least you and Ray had something in common."

"Well there's more to him than he leads on. Things have gone quite well between us, discounting the incident about the transfers..."

"You got a transfer notice and didn't take it?"

He looked at her a little puzzled. "Yes, the Canadian government tries to frequently transfer their Consular staff...lest they become to 'Americanized' and loose their objective. The option comes around every four to six months."

The cogs of Victoria's brain instantly started turning as she began to say a way out of the terrible mess they were in. Over the past two days they'd lived in a sort of suspended reality, neither willing to face the ugliness of the truth that she had to leave...and soon.

February 12 :::Early Morning:::

With a heavy heart and a sigh Victoria looked at the slumbering man beside her. She'd tried to work up the courage to tell him she was leaving, but just couldn't bring herself to it. She couldn't bear the goodbyes...or worse trying to convince him that leaving was the right thing. So she carefully dressed in silence and pulled her bags from the closet. She'd written a note the day before and left it in the depression her body had made on the bed along with the little soap sled-dog she'd taken that horrible night three years ago. But just for good measure she read the note again:

Dear Ben,

I'm sorry I had to leave this way but we both know we couldn't have followed through with it any other way. I can't tell you exactly where I've gone but I can say that next time you are given the offer of a transfer take it, and ask to go home. The north misses you Ben and I'll miss you along with it.

I hope you understand how much I appreciate your forgiving me. You've given me reason to live, and for that I am, and will be, eternally grateful.

Good luck and take care of yourself love,

Victoria

An unwarranted tear trickled off her cheek and onto the paper, smearing the ink of her name. She stared at him then, memorizing every last facet of his peaceful and sleep-rumpled face before dipping to kiss him on the forehead. "Don't forget me." She whispered into the darkness as she carefully and quietly closed the door.

THE END