Author's disclaimer: All characters and concepts belong to Alliance Communications. No infringement in intended and no profit is being made so please don't sue me.

Author's notes: This is an interpretation of Fraser that will not please everyone. I think it adds to his character, but not all will agree.

It Happened in Moose Jaw
Rating: PG-13 (??some descriptions of violence, but no sex of any kind) Pairings: None
Genre: Missing scene from Bird in the Hand Summary: Is Fraser capable of violence?

"What is it with Canadian criminals and your right leg, Benny?" Ray Vecchio asked a very groggy Benton Fraser, who was currently occupying a hospital bed.

An IV line delivered fluids and antibiotics to the injured Mountie.

"Huh?" was about the most coherent thought that he could form at the moment, but he was glad that Ray was there with him.

"I mean Geiger stabbed you in the right leg and now they shoot you there too? The least they could do is alternate."

"A Canadian didn't shoot me, Ray. Agent McFadden shot me." Fraser's tongue was thick, but his words were only slightly slurred. His eyes were gradually obeying his command to stay open and focus.

"Ah, it's only a technicality. You got shot over a Canadian," Ray insisted.

"Well I am a Mountie."

"That you are, Benny, that you are." Vecchio was grateful that the bullet had been removed with no complications. The surgery had gone off without a hitch and Fraser would be released sometime the next day.

"Hmm," was his friend's only reply.

"I mean it. Most guys woulda taken out the guy who killed their father given half a chance. Hell, my dad wasn't that great a guy and I'da been tempted. Didn't you even wanna, you know, rough him up just a little?"

Fraser sighed and Ray thought that maybe he'd gone back to sleep when the voice began again.

"I was, you know, just a bit. But I knew that if I started, I wouldn't stop until . . ."

"Until he was dead? Most guys maybe, but not you. I know you, Benny, you're not capable of that, that kind of force." Ray smiled and leaned back in his chair.

A long moment passed and Fraser's eyes were closed.

"But I am," replied the voice with a deadly kind of finality.

Ray felt himself grow cold as a little tingle ran down his spine. His eyes widened as he looked at his closest friend lying as pale as the sheets on the hospital bed.

"You saying you done something like that?" Ray asked, carefully modulating his voice to hide his surprise.

"Something like that, yes," Fraser answered, still as death, his eyes now fixed on some point on the ceiling.

Vecchio was almost afraid to ask, but at the same time he dearly wanted to know what would drive a man like Benny to extreme violence. Sure, the guy was great at defending himself, what with his wicked elbows and quick moves, but he'd never seen Fraser land a single blow more than was absolutely necessary. His use of force was finely tuned and he never used any more than strictly necessary to subdue a suspect. While he was considering whether or not he should ask, it was decided for him.

"It happened in Moose Jaw about five years after I'd graduated from the Academy. It was my second posting and I'd been a cop long enough to know better. My partner, Steve Barclay and I, were responding to a call from a shopkeeper about a disturbance in the alley behind his store. Steve started down the alley from one end and I from the other. It was only about twenty-five feet in from the street that I found her.

"She'd been so badly beaten that I couldn't even be sure of her sex or age at first, she was so small and frail. I called for Steve and he called for an ambulance while I did what I could for her. Her hair was so matted with blood that I couldn't even be sure of its color and her arms and legs were thin and poorly muscled. Remarkably, she was still breathing although I suspected her jaw, nose and cheekbone were broken.

"Some of her teeth had been broken out, but that probably hadn't been too difficult as severe malnutrition had already left its mark on her. The ambulance crew arrived and stabilized her before loading her into the ambulance. She was pregnant, Ray."

Ray started at his name, pulled so suddenly out of the story. This wasn't just another of Benny's Inuit tales; It was a part of the life that the man so rarely spoke about.

"I rode with her to the hospital while Steve followed with the cruiser. She regained consciousness en route and when I leaned over to reassure her - - I'd never seen such terror in anyone's eyes. I hope I never do again. She screamed and thrashed until I finally moved away for fear she'd harm herself in her panic."

"God, I hate those cases," Ray murmured by way of encouragement.

Fraser's thumb came up to smooth over his eyebrow in a gesture that Ray recognized as unease, but his quiet voice soon continued.

"It was some time before we heard anything, but a doctor finally gave us a preliminary report. Her attacker had kicked her repeatedly with heavy boots, rupturing her spleen, fracturing her skull, facial bones and ribs. Her ribs punctured her lung with subsequent blows. She lost the child she was carrying and he'd . . ." Fraser broke off and looked at Ray.

"He'd raped her." Vecchio supplied, the viciousness of the attack twisting his stomach.

"Yes," Ben answered, then added, his voice deep with sadness and contempt, "She'd briefly regained consciousness and the doctor told us her name was Joy. While she declined to name her attacker, several of the emergency room personnel recognized her from previous visits. They suggested that we speak to her husband."

"The doctor told you that the husband did it."

"Well no, not in so many words. He just told us that she'd been treated there previously for similar, less severe injuries. Based on the severity of the beating, Steve and I had already suspected it was someone close to her and that she'd been dumped in the alley to make it look like a random attack." Fraser paused and looked at Ray, briefly returning from his recollection to explain.

"She wasn't dressed for an outing Ray. She had no coat, hat or gloves and no one in Moose Jaw goes outside in early spring without them. And while we found her in a rather depressed part of town, violent crime wasn't common."

"So you tracked the bastard down, right?" Ray prompted with all the enthusiasm of a ten year old.

"Well tracking, per se, wasn't really necessary Ray. A few brief inquiries of their neighbors confirmed that an argument had taken place, though they were reluctant to say much more. I, um, gained entry to Mr. Jasper's apartment and it appeared that he'd decided to leave town." Fraser paused and sighed, "There was blood in the bathroom."

"Steve? What about him?" Ray asked, wondering if the Mounties had ganged up on the guy.

"He'd gone home for the night, our shift was long over and he had a family. He wanted to stay, work the case, but I told him that I'd take care of it, file the report and go home myself."

Ray noticed that Fraser's eyes had gone slightly unfocused where they stared at the ceiling and his breathing was quick and shallow.

"What happened, Benny? What'd you do?"

"There was only one way out of Moose Jaw for someone with no car and little money. I found him at the bus station hiding in one of the bays, waiting for the bus to White Horse. It was as far as he could get with the money he had. He was unremarkable in appearance, rather dirty and unkempt, but when I identified myself, he almost bolted. I . . . informed him, that his wife was in the hospital. He didn't have much to say about it, but I looked at his feet. There was blood on his boots."

Fraser swallowed, dry throat clicking and Ray held the cup while Ben sipped from the straw. Neither of them questioned that it was unnecessary as Fraser's hands were both free.

"Thank you, Ray." He fidgeted with the blankets, cleared his throat, trying to postpone his confession.

Ray waited patiently. He knew that Benny would finish after coming this far.

"You know, I remember every moment with perfect clarity, Ray. I just looked into his eyes and saw. . . nothing. No shock, no love, no concern . . . no regret. I felt something inside me give and I punched him right in the stomach . . . hard. I really thought that was all I'd do, but he dropped to the ground and began begging for mercy. All I could think of was how his wife had most likely begged for him to stop.

"It was like I could see it all in my mind's eye, her cowering, pulling her thin body in on itself to protect her unborn child as best she could, while he administered blow after blow until he'd dumped her in the alley like so much trash. I'd like to say it was blind rage on my part, but there was nothing blind about it. I was extremely conscious not to mark his face, and concentrated most of my blows on his ribs and kidneys, calculated them for maximum effect. I didn't stop when I heard his ribs break under my fists; I just changed sides. I kept picking him up and hitting him, letting him drop."

Fraser fell silent and looked at his friend, the only sound in the room the whir and click of the IV pump. The gray-blue eyes were dull and haunted and Ray was sure that it wasn't solely due to the effect of the drugs.

"I don't know how long it went on. Probably no more than a few minutes because he was screaming like a banshee and people came running. I half dragged him out to the cruiser and took him to the hospital."

"How bad was it? He didn't . . ," Vecchio didn't want believe Fraser'd actually killed the man.

"Die? Oh no, no, I'd uh, well, he had a concussion and a number of broken ribs, badly bruised kidneys. Several broken fingers and a few other miscellaneous things. Nothing nearly as severe as he'd done to his wife."

"So. . . I've always wondered. . . did it feel good? To give a little back, 'ya know?" Ray asked, knowing that Ben would be honest with him.

Fraser shook his head before answering, "No, not really. It wasn't enough, Ray. There was nothing I could do that would be as horrible as what he'd done to his wife. I would have had to beat him to death and I couldn't do that. He was such a, a . . . coward, Ray. I guess that's what enraged me so. I was ashamed that I'd allowed myself to . . . lose control like that."

"So what happened after that? I mean to you?" Ray asked.

"After I dropped him off at the hospital, I went to Steve's house and turned myself in. He didn't believe me, thought that I was exaggerating, but I made him call the hospital to verify my story for himself. Then he told me to go home, that we'd talk to our commanding officer in the morning." Fraser rubbed his eyes, exhaustion finally taking over.

"I must have written ten different resignation letters over the course of the night and thought about what my father would do when he found out what I'd done. I wasn't sure I could ever face him again. Being a Mountie was the only career I'd ever considered and I couldn't imagine what I'd do after being discharged. I'd be lucky if I was allowed to resign and not do prison time for assault. I arrived early for my meeting with the Sergeant but Steve had arrived even earlier and had already spoken to him about the case. I went in, placed one of the letters on his desk and stood at attention. He just looked at me for the longest time. When I asked for permission to speak, it was denied.

He said, 'Fraser, your request for a transfer to the Yukon has been approved. You are to report to the RCMP barracks for immediate reassignment. Dismissed.' As I was leaving his office, however, he said that the incident regarding Mr. Jasper would be handled internally and that I was to never speak of it again. Officially my record reports nothing other than I was unable to adjust to such an urban setting."

"Wow. And that was it?" While Ray knew that such things happened in Chicago with a fair frequency, but was a bit surprised to hear it happened in Canada as well.

"Well, Steve did tell me that while I'd been damn lucky, the commander had been rather pleased, considering Ms. Jasper's condition."

"Did you ever hear anything about the outcome?"

"Steve wrote me several months later and said that Mr. Jasper had plead guilty to attempted murder and was doing time in prison. Mrs. Jasper eventually recovered from her physical injuries. It was discovered that she'd been abused since childhood and required considerable psychological help to return to anything resembling a normal life." Ben's voice had become almost a whisper.

"Did you ever tell your dad, Benny?" Ray asked quietly.

"He alluded to it once. Apparently the story had made the rounds and though I wasn't specifically named, he knew. He said that while the incident was unacceptable and unworthy of a peace officer, he hoped the young Mountie had learned a valuable lesson. He added that the man must have reported the incident honestly and shown extraordinary remorse for his actions. We never discussed it again."

Fraser dropped off to sleep again. A few minutes later a nurse entered the room to check on her patient. She made a few adjustments and spared a glance or two at the exhausted man occupying the chair next to the bed.

"He's going to be fine, you know. You should get some rest yourself, it's been a long day for both of you."

"Yeah, I know," Ray smiled at her, "but I'm good for a while yet. I promise, I won't be much longer."

"Okay," she agreed as she dimmed the lights in the room.

Ray watched his friend for some time, thinking about the complexities that comprised Benton Fraser. Before long, he slept as well.