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Benny and Ray 25 Lunch Break Rated PG Dee Gilles

This morning, I finally got the news that I had been waiting on for six months. I was going home.

Back to Ottawa. Getting out of this Godforsaken hell-hole of a city. American cities were so dirty; I don't know how the government tolerated these blighted urban conditions. Last month, we were in the South Side, putting on a happy face for the Canadian government, showing that we cared about the welfare of our good neighbors to the south. Yeah, right. I was repulsed. The condition of the school Turnbull, Fraser and I visited was deplorable. If this were typical conditions at American schools, then the U.S. was rapidly going right down the loo. And I had no intentions of being flushed down with it.

Fraser, of course, had no objections at all. He did his talk on the history of Canada, answered a lot of questions that revealed American kids' astonishing ignorance of a country whose border was less than a half day's travel by car. He even knew one of the kids in the class. Willy was his name. God only knows what the connection was between the two of them.

And Turnbull. Well, Turnbull was just Turnbull. Nothing sank through that thick skull of his. The man was always obliviously happy, no matter what. Lately he had been fixated on yet another show about spoiled American teenagers. He was entranced by one of the actresses, who it turns out was the daughter of one of the richest men in America. He had some idea about being destined to be hers some day. What a moron. `As if', as the kids today say. I was constantly catching him watching reruns of that show, and neglecting his duties. I finally had to ban the television during working hours.

I am so glad to get out of here. It's like the RCMP was sending its rejects and misfits to the States, and I, for one, was tired of dealing with this group of freaks. I hated to think I was indebted to Henri Cloutier for this new position, but...desperate times called for desperate measures. Besides, Henri would be two provinces away, in Regina, so he should give me no trouble.

I finished the `thank-you' email to Henri, and hit `send'. I hope he didn't think that too impersonal. I mean, it's not like I was going to call him. He might start getting the wrong idea, again.

Now was a good break to grab my lunch from the fridge. I had a ham and cheese sandwich, and pasta salad, with a small cottage cheese and some Wasa crackers. I took it back to my desk to eat, so that I could go online and search for homes on the Ottawa- area market while I ate. My sister lived in Hull, and I very much wanted to be near her, preferably in the same neighborhood. It was going to be nice to see her on a daily basis. It would be just like it was when we were in college. Except this time, there'd be no sharing of lovers. At least I should hope not. Her new husband was a chubby redhead. Not my type at all.

I heard the front door open and looked up through my open door. Ray Vecchio walked by, headed right for Fraser's office. A few seconds later, he walked by again, Fraser in tow. Fraser stuck his head through my open door. "Back in an hour," he said.

"Hey," Vecchio coolly said to me. That man. Most days I just couldn't see what Fraser saw in him. He was the most annoying man in the world most of the time.

I had announced this morning that I was leaving, and was met with much surprise, but I can't say that I saw any disappointment either. I know I haven't exactly been endearing to anyone here, but I think I've been fair and reasonable. It would have been nice to have seen one long face today.

After the announcement, I had pulled Fraser into my office and shut the door, which automatically made him very, very nervous. I wasn't sure if that was because he thought I was going to reprimand him or kiss him. "At ease, Constable," I said. He relaxed just a hair.

I let Fraser know that if he wanted to, I would recommend him for transfer as well. There were vacancies at Regina, Banff, and Uranium City, any of which would be happy to have him.

A look of wistfulness crossed his face for a moment before he responded. "Sir, thank you, but Chicago is my home, now."

I was not surprised, but then again, I was. "You don't want to take some time to think about it, Constable? I can wait."

"No, sir. There's nothing to think about. You know that I am in the midst of getting my citizenship papers approved."

I studied him, as he gazed above my head, a polite blank look on his face. "Is Ray Vecchio worth all this, Constable?"

Fraser finally met my eyes. "Yes, sir. Worth more."

"As you wish, then, Constable." I shook my head in puzzlement. Vecchio must be extremely good in the sack was all I could figure. "Actually, option two that I had in mind was that you stay here and replace me. I could give you a very good recommendation, if you like. I think I owe you that much, Fraser."

Fraser actually blushed, and tugged at his collar. "Well...actually sir." He cleared his throat. "Actually, I had intended to be leaving the RCMP in the near future. I don't think it would be fair to begin a position that I may have to abandon in short order."

"What??!! This is Vecchio's idea, isn't it?"

"Well, sir, it was rather a mutual decision."

"My ASS! Vecchio put you up to this!"

"Sir! No! We both felt that there would be more opportunities for me in law enforcement, i.e. actual police work, if I joined the Chicago Police Department." Did I detect the faintest hint of accusation in his pointed look at me?

"Fraser." It came out exasperated, so I stopped. This was not the tone I meant to set. I tried again. "Sit," I said gently.

He sat in the proffered chair in front of me, but he still appeared to be `at attention'.

"Have you thought about this carefully, Fraser?"

"Of course sir."

"I don't know that you have, Fraser. You'd give up a prestigious and rewarding career to go walk the beat in some...some ghetto where there's a good chance you might get shot on any given day of the week?"

"The people who live in the poorest areas are good people, sir. They need police protection just like any other human being is entitled to."

I let out a big sigh. Fraser was so...so Pollyanna sometimes. I was afraid that would be the thing to get him killed.

"You're right, of course. But Fraser, do yourself a favor. Just wait a few more years."

"I can only wait so long, sir. The age cut off for entrance into the Academy is forty. And the younger I am, the better chances I have to pass physical tests and medical exams."

"Then wait just two more years. Then, you'll be able to draw some pension. If you leave before twenty years, you get nothing. And I know you can use the money, Fraser. We all can. Just tell me you'll think about it. Talk it over with Vecchio."

"You're right, I'm sure," he said softly.

"Just don't mull it over too long. I'm out of here in thirty days, so they're going to be immediately searching for my replacement. There isn't much time to get your name on the list and all the proper documentation forwarded on to Ottawa."

I finished my lunch in short order, and spent the rest of my lunch break searching for homes. I placed a call to my sister to have her drive by a charming little English-style cottage that was two kilometers from her house. Just as I was logging off, I heard the front door open, and Turnbull, who was manning the front desk, greeted Fraser. Seconds later, Ben was at my door, hat in hand.

"Something, Constable?"

"I discussed the current situation with Ray over lunch, and he agrees with me staying on for the time being. I would very much appreciate you recommending me for the position of Chief Liaison Officer."

I nodded and smiled, genuinely putting him at ease. "Consider it done, Constable."

He nodded sharply. "Thank you, sir."

"Oh, and Fraser?"

"Sir?"

"I just...want to say `thank you'. I feel that I've been remiss in showing you appreciation during my time here. And for that, I'm sorry."

"Sir, think nothing of it." He gave me a full smile, a genuine one from the heart, and actually tipped his hat to me. Well damn. That's all it took to get a smile out of Fraser? I should have been nicer to the man. I should have been nicer, and maybe now he'd be living with me instead of Detective Vecchio. Missed opportunity. Story of my life.

Ben Fraser could be heard humming to himself for the rest of the afternoon. I didn't have the heart to give him guard duty this afternoon. Instead, I sent Turnbull, who, despite the ban on television, snuck a small set into the men's toilet to watch his favorite show.

Finis